#they already said they like my portfolio

[thrill-seeker-if]

guys i just submitted my super cool resume pls pray that they are blown away please pray that i get the internship yall

[catwafers]

does anyone have the time to bring me down and can i sleep all night long, to the drums of the city rain

(not ship art)

[despairforme]

[deadtower]

me after spending the past 12 hours or so in a blinding panic of anxiety like. hm. things are really gonna be okay, huh

[boygirlctommy]

desperately throwing my animatics at my portfolio please let me into your animation program, school

[azsazz]

Midnight Muse (Part 14)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 3,355

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Masterlist]

Notes: Okay I'm a lil sad for my baby azzy in this part 😭

_________________________________________

“Listen kid,” the tattoo artist across the table from him sighs, and Azriel already knows what’s going to come out of his mouth.

This interview hadn’t been going well since he stepped through the door to Steppes Ink. The guy who was supposed to be conducting the interview for an apprenticeship at the parlor—a lanky lad tatted up with the worst ink Azriel’s ever seen…is that a clock dripping blood for fucks sake?—had forgotten he was even giving an interview today.

He—Brad? Chad? Something or other, he suspects—hadn’t listened to a word Azriel said when he spoke about his time tattooing. That it was his passion. That he wants to make a career out of it. Instead, the guy had kicked his sneaker clad feet up onto the edge of the table and flipped through his portfolio, not allowing Azriel to speak on his work.

He’d seen the look the fucker had given him when he’d pulled his portfolio out of his bag. The way he stared openly at his latex gloved hands as he held the book out, stuffed full of drawings and pictures of tattoos he’s given both at parties and his art focused study groups.

Azriel thinks it’s an impressive show of skill, but this fucker doesn’t.

He doesn’t even want to apprentice here anyway, not after all of this, but he’s running out of tattoo parlors to apply to in town. He’s not against driving out to the next town over because he has a reliable source of transportation, but driving all the way out after his classes is something he’d rather not have to do.

Azriel sets his jaw. He’s more than ready to pack his things and leave, maybe swing a fist at the fucker on his way out. He had been ready to go when the second comment out of this shithead's mouth was, “Taking cleanliness to a whole new level there, ey kid?” In response to his gloved hands. He’s glad he’d worn them, because he knows if he hadn’t, it would’ve been something much more insulting spewing from his lips instead.

He’s had better interviews with the same result. The fact that he keeps putting himself through this shows his determination, but Azriel would be lying if he said that the plethora of no’s he receives wasn’t disheartening. He feels like he’s come a long way since his accident, when he’d essentially had to relearn how to hold his pencils, charcoal sticks, and tattoo gun.

All of that pride he felt is slowly deteriorating like an ages old painting.

“I think you’re very talented with your sketches, but it’s not translating into your tattoos,” the man starts, scratching his patchy beard. He sucks his teeth, but it doesn’t help get rid of the cluster of food jammed between them that Azriel has been talking to for the past forty minutes. Yeah, he really does not want to work here. Not only is this guy disgusting, he’s seen at least three violations the second he walked into the parlor alone.

Imagine if he had to put up with this shit everyday.

The man continues, because he doesn’t really know how to shut up. “Your lines are all jagged, and we can’t have that. I’d be happy to look at your work again next semester when you have a little more experience.”

No. Fucking. Thanks.

Azriel grinds his teeth because he doesn’t know what else to do. How many times has he heard this line before? He knows, Mother help him he fucking knows that his lines aren’t the straightest, but he’s come a long way, and his more recent tattoos aren’t suffering because of it. 

Why won’t anyone just give him a fucking chance?

“I understand,” Azriel nods, and it takes a lot more effort to keep his tone neutral when he replies.

He’s thankful that the guy can’t see how white-knuckled his fists are under the table.

“What made you want to get into tattooing, anyway?” The man flips his portfolio shut with a harsh snap. The way he says it makes Azriel feel like he’s about to be told that he should find a backup plan. He has one already, but this fucker doesn’t need to know that.

Who does this guy think he is anyway? He has a bleeding clock and a lion head on his arm for fucks sake. It even has a mechanical eye. And he’s sure that if he lifts the sleeves of his cut off flannel, he’ll be showing a plethora of gears forever marked onto his pale skin, too.

“Every tattoo has a story,” Azriel answers, because it’s something he believes with his whole heart, and maybe, just maybe, this fucker can relate to that.

The idiot has the audacity to cock his head, questioningly. “Is that so?”

“The one’s I get do,” Azriel responds stiffly, and he hopes that this interview is over because he can’t bear to sit here a moment longer. What’s with all of the follow up questions? He’s already said no, so why the fuck is he still interrogating him?

Azriel is being looked at like he’s some dumb college kid with no idea what he wants to do with his life, and he fucking hates that. He knows exactly what he wants to do once he graduates, and that’s to be a tattoo artist, hence trying to find an apprenticeship at a local shop. Right now, he’s starting to wonder if all of the shop owners have meetings together where they talk about the kid in black gloves and tell each other not to hire him. 

Either way, he’s beyond fucking annoyed.

“Well, I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me,” Azriel says, gathering his things. The guy looks at his gloved hands again and he knows that the question is on the tip of his tongue so he hurries, shoving his portfolio into his bag and standing from his chair. 

“No problem kid. Like I said, work on it and maybe next semester—” 

“Right,” Azriel forces a smile like he’s never had to before. It feels like cutting steel, and he’s sure it looks more threatening than genuine. “Thanks.”

He dips out of the shop before the fucker can ask anymore questions.

He’s glad he didn’t even care to remember his name.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The wind against his body and the rumble of his motorcycle makes things slightly better.

Azriel tries to let the interview roll off of his shoulders with the current pressing against his body, but it just isn’t happening. 

Usually, he enjoys the ride. The way taking the curves a little too fast makes his heart stutter in a rapid pace, the smooth asphalt beneath his wheels wiping his worries away, but there’s something about tonight that has him feeling like he’d rather just put on some music, wallow in his bed, and work on his sketches.

He’ll show that fucker.

It had gone shittier than all of the other interviews he’s had. Four, to be specific. Four interviews, where three of them had mentioned his shaky linework, two of them had told him to come back next semester, and one had been conducted by a total fucking idiot.

His hands are shaking now, memories of the accident dredged up from the way the last interviewer was staring at him. He can still feel his beady gaze on his hands, like he was some fucking specimen to be examined under a microscope. Maybe if Azriel had peeled back the latex and showed him the damage of his scars, the guy would’ve left him the fuck alone.

He knows that that’s not how it would’ve gone, though. Guys like him always ask more questions, and Azriel does not want to repeat that story to someone like that.

His gloves are still on, clenched tightly around his handlebars. He can’t ride like this, needs to stop, but he’s two blocks from his apartment now and he just wants to be home.

The fact that he can still feel the phantom touch of your body pressed up close to him every time he rides his bike now helps distract him. It subconsciously eases the trembling in his hands, and Azriel relaxes only slightly. He still doesn’t like you, but the way your thighs had pressed so firmly around his body had felt like being completely doused in warmth. He hadn’t even needed his jacket while the cold rain pounded down on the both of you, because with your chest pressed tightly against his back, your hands around his waist, he was nearly sweating.

He wonders if you had felt the same. Like there was lightning zipping up your rigid spine. If your heart was thundering as loudly as his. If you just wanted to keep going like he did, pass the town up and go on to the next—

Azriel nearly passes the apartment building whilst he’s distracted. Cassian’s big, beat up bronco is a red flag waving at him from its usual spot in front of the building. Literally, the crimson rust bucket is an eyesore, and he’s surprised they haven’t gotten any complaints from the landlord about it bringing the value of the building down.

He jerks to a stop and backs his motorcycle up in front of the truck. Always parking in the closest to the corner, Cassian had said, so that no one can block him in. Azriel hadn’t known if it had been a slight jab from when he’d trapped your and Feyre’s moving truck in on your first day here, but he’d laughed nonetheless.

There are people wandering in and out of the building. Giggling groups of girls and guys carrying racks of beers on their shoulders, hooting and hollering, eye-fucking the girls in their short skirts as they wait for the elevator. There’s parties up and down the building all weekend, and Azriel prays that for once, Cassian has decided to wander down a few floors to find a fuck instead of hosting another party.

His prayers are not answered.

When Azriel shoves through the stairwell out onto the fourth floor, the music hits him like a fucking truck. It’s bass-heavy, blaring down the hall like a goddamn rave. Internally, he groans, shoving his way through the people loitering in the hall, ignoring the more than interested looks he receives from a group of girls, staring him down like a pack of hungry hyenas.

Fuck, he really doesn’t want to deal with this right now.

It’s late enough that the pregame should be finishing soon, but knowing Cassian, it’s only just beginning.

Azriel had stopped off at the local diner for something sweet to take his mind off of the awful interview. It hadn’t helped his shakiness at all, the anger coursing through his veins, not even when his favorite waitress Rita had brought him a small fry on the house and put an extra cherry on top of his shake, then proceeded to sit with him for a bit to check in.

He loves Rita. He, Cassian, and Rhysand used to frequent the diner often during freshman year, when they had no transportation and were broke art students. Rita had always taken care of them, but now, the tradition seems to have dwelled as they’ve gotten older and are able to attend bars and have the money for restaurants that don’t only serve smash burgers and shakes. 

Azriel’s pretty sure he’s the only one that still visits out of the three.

His apartment is packed to the brim. He can smell the alcohol and sweat in the air, the stench of it makes his nose scrunch. He could use a fucking drink right now, he thinks, but he doesn’t do it often because it only makes his hands shake more and that’s the last thing he needs right now.

Upon first glance he doesn’t see either of his roommates, and then Cassian is barrelling through the crowd as if he has a sixth sense for knowing when Azriel enters a room.

“Hey, man,” Cassian grins wildly, throwing his arm around his shoulder. The drink in his cup sloshes precariously close to the rim of his glass, and Azriel grimaces. His roommates eyes are blurry with drink, and he’s swaying a bit, leaning his body weight against him. Hopefully, he hasn’t tripped and crushed anyone with his sheer size, because it wouldn’t bode well for the person trapped beneath the behemoth. “Are you setting up tonight? There’s these two chicks that want to get tatted up. Underboob.” Cassian waggles his eyebrows and grins like he’s just caught a glimpse of heaven. “Matching.”

“Not in the mood,” Azriel grunts, pushing past his roommate. He hates every second of shoving through this crowd, bodies plastered against his own like the ink on his arms. He wonders if the loud music is bothering you on the other side of the thin wall, and then he shoves that thought straight from his mind because he doesn't care.

He does care that it’s bothering him, though.

Azriel digs his keys from his pocket. The lock on his door was added after their first party and he’d found a couple right about about to fuck on his bed.

He’s the only one that gets to do that, even if he hasn’t touched another girl in months. He’s been too much of a surly bastard to even want to pursue a girl, and he knows they wouldn’t want him touching them with his fucked up hands, despite the glowing eyes feeding off of his appearance in the hall. 

Someone bumps into him and he nearly smacks his head into the door. Azriel chokes back the growl threatening to crawl from his throat, and decides against whirling around to bark at whoever’s run into him. His grip on the knob tightens.

There’s a soft light emitting from his room when he opens the door, the lamp beside his bed glowing. Azriel releases an exasperated huff, trying to ease the tension in his shoulders, but it skyrockets when he notices the lump tucked tightly into his covers.

It’s you, and you’re in his bed.

Two thoughts pass through his mind so quickly he can hardly discern one from the other.

One, what the fuck are you doing in his bed?

And two, who the fuck let you in his room?

Okay, so the second question is easier to answer than the first. It’s obvious that Cassian must have let you into his room, because he’s pretty sure the fucker had made a copy of the key the second day he’d put the lock on his door. Azriel hadn’t let him in when he’d been trying to get him to smell four different colognes he got as samples in a magazine, so his roommate took it into his own hands to make sure Azriel could never be in his room in peace.

The first question, however, makes no sense. You live right next door for fucks sakes, so what the fuck are you doing here?

Azriel stares. He can’t help himself, he’s frozen in the doorway until Cassian’s belting voice complaining about the pop song that the playlist has switched to snaps him from his stupor. He ducks inside of his room, shoving the door shut behind him, and flicking the lock.

He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing. 

He’s staring at your sleeping form like you’re only pretending to sleep, armed with a weapon and hoping he comes closer. You’ll pop out at him and scare the shit out of him and then Rhys will fall out of the closet laughing and Cassian will burst through the door, falling to his knees in hysterics.

But you’re not moving. You’re curled up on your side, and a metal mixing bowl sits on the table next to his bed, the small stack of books that is normally stacked there spilled haphazardly, one face down on the floor. 

There’s a glass of water next to the bowl, and Azriel doesn’t like that it sits so close to his books, despite it being only half full.

His bag falls from his shoulder and he slings it over the back of his desk chair, all while keeping his eyes pinned to your sleeping form. His dark sheets rise and fall shallowly with each breath you take, your lips parted slightly, unbothered by the intrusion and the loud music shaking the walls.

You must be used to it by now.

This is weird. This is so fucking weird that Azriel doesn’t even know what to do with himself but his feet move him closer to the bed against his better judgement. No, this is fucking beyond creepy now, with him looming over you like this, watching you sleep.

His fingers itch and he rips the gloves off of his hands, tossing the latex into the trash by his desk. His fingers flex, and Azriel gulps down a fresh breath of air now that his sweating hands can breathe. 

Doing so doesn’t stop that feeling, though. The one where he wants to feel that familiar pencil in his hand, charcoal coating his fingers. There’s a blooming in his mind, inspiration swiping the foulness of his interview away. He need to grab his sketchbook and flip it to a clean page and start drawing the curve of your—

No. He scolds himself, shaking his head furiously and backing away. He trips over your shoes, discarded in a pile on the floor, but he doesn’t eat shit. Maybe if he did it would help clear his mind from this. The way your presence has painted over his tainted night, when he should be more angry to see you occupying his space, but instead, he feels more intrigued.

Fuck. He shouldn’t be looking at the way his sheet is draped across your body. You’re still clothed, and Azriel is more than thankful for that. He shouldn’t be admiring your quiet, peaceful side, not when he’s so used to seeing that crease between your brows and frown tugging your lips whenever he’s around. He shouldn’t be brushing the strand of hair falling across your face behind your ear—

Azriel jerks his hand away from you. He hadn’t realized that he’d moved closer, had been leaning in like what? Like he was going to caress that smooth skin of yours? No, that’s not happening. Now or ever.

He bolts from his room, but not before making sure he locks it behind him. He feels frantic again, like his skin is stretched too tight over his bones. He needs to find Rhys because the music is making his head spin and he’s so, so close to spiraling right now.

Stumbling through the living room to the other side of the apartment, Azriel reaches Rhysand’s door. He hopes it’s unlocked, because being alone right now sounds even better than having to be around anyone right now. 

It’s fucking locked.

Azriel pounds on the door. There’s an urgency to it that Rhysand must hear, because he’s cracking the door open a bit and Azriel is met with his glowing violet eyes and naked chest. 

“What’s up Az? I’m a little…busy at the moment.”

He doesn’t need to peek over his shoulder to know that Feyre’s waiting for him in his bed right now.

“I, ah—nothing man. It’s nothing,” he mumbles, turning away from the door. None of his questions are being answered. If everyone's over here, why is no one at your apartment? Why aren’t you in your own bed? “What the fuck,” he grumbles, scanning the crowd of gyrating bodies in the middle of his living room.

He spots Cassian somewhere near the middle, a group of girls rubbing their bodies up against his. They’re so close together they look like a pack of sardines, and Cassian is their king. He’s laughing, making suggestive eyes at at least three of them.

Sometimes, Azriel wishes he was that carefree. 

With nothing else to do, he makes his way to the kitchen. 

He needs a fucking drink.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Midnight Muse Taglist: @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumbers @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakurafrost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r

[joonipertree]

idea for the Boxer!Katsuki and Artist!Reader AU! What if, ON TOP OF a rly bad day w college and being overwhelmed w work, we lost our paints :( n we luv our paints so we cry, but katsuki’s there to make us feel better and get us a new set :3

Thank you so fucking much for this. Idk if you knew but I'm actually making a portfolio for art school and Ive been crying every other night because of how stressed I am and how much I feel like I'm a bad artist. So writing this was cathartic

Part 1, Part 2

Tags: Dom/sub undertones, reader acting out and Bakugo being stern, a peak of what kind of shit I want with older men hsjsjsj, fluff, hurt/comfort, soft katsuki

Katsuki was one of the last people you wanted to see when you're in a bad mood. And that might sound terrible but it's because you never wanted to show such a harsh, negative side of yourself to someone you cared about. You were very much a 'feel and then reappear more regulated' type of person. But Katsuki never let you go home on your own anymore, picking you and dropping you off even on days where he had something to do.

So you trotted towards him with a scowl and no energy to fake anything and he noticed instantly, his own concerned scowl mirroring yours.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." You said and opened the door, closing it a bit too loudly. You cringed at the sound but buckled yourself in and turned away before the man got in the driver's seat.

"You're shit at lying."

"Fuck off."

Instant regret, a deep inhale from your part as you tensed.

Fuck.

His large hand came on your thigh and you stiffened, all he did was give it a warning squeeze before pulling away. The message was clear. 'Watch it'.

"I'm not willing to discipline you until I know nothing horrible happened but you do know I don't like that shit from you right?"

You said nothing.

"Give me an answer, doll."

"I'm an adult."

"Yeah, you are. And you're a smart one that knows that we have rules. That I'd be taking you over my lap if you talked like that."

Tears pricked your eyes but you blinked them away, not willing to turn your head to show him.

He knew anyways and he dropped the subject, starting the car and driving off.

Katsuki pulled to a stop at a place that wasn't anywhere near your apartment. You were confused as he got out of the car. Your eyes followed him just as he entered a boba shop.

Oh.

A couple minutes later, he came out with a drink for each of you. You remembered when he said that there just wasn't any point of it, that it seemed stupid and too sweet. But pretty soon, he had his own usual order, which was just Brown Sugar boba tea with the sweetness to a minimum.

Katsuki gave you the drink without even looking your way, sipping on his own. You stared at it for a total of ten seconds before timidly taking a sip. The sweetness broke you out of your sour mood, eyes blinking as you focused on the flavour of your favourite tea. The boba was chewy and soft and it grounded you a bit.

Only after you took a sip, did Katsuki start the car and drive.

When you reached home, the apartment the two of you had started sharing a month prior, Katsuki only gave you time to take off your shoes and put down your bag before he had you over his shoulder.

You struggled, hitting his back and asking him to let you go but he didn't listen...not even feeling it.

And when your ass plopped itself onto the couch, your attempt at running away failed when he easily manhandled you in place.

"I'm not patient enough to coax it out of you, so tell me why you're upset. I'll make it better."

You wanted to refuse but the tears were already dripping down your face.

"I'm so bad at art. I'm so f-fucking bad at it. I don't-" you sobbed and his arms were instantly around you, pulling you onto his lap as you cried into him.

"There's so many deadlines and so many things I have to do and nothing is working. And I don't even know if I'm cut out to be an artist. I'm not good enough, I was never good enough for it. I'm gonna fail-- Katsuki I'm so tired."

Your boyfriend rocked you back and forth, giving you kisses everywhere he could reach, on the side of your face and your head and your hair. And you let the tears fall, hiccuping violently and sobbing without restraint.

"I even lost my fucking paints and I can't live without them and I saved up for them and I'm just doing everything wrong."

You let Katsuki envelope you, squeeze you and warm your inside as you let it all out.

When your sobs died down, Katsuki didn't stop peppering kisses everywhere. It took him a second to speak.

"I didn't know shit about art. It all seemed like fancy, time consuming pictures to me. Hell, even now I don't know shit. But when I saw your art, I felt stuff I thought I didn't know how to feel. And that was the first time I realised that maybe life didn't have to be as shitty as it was. Maybe things didn't have to be ugly."

"When we went to those art galleries, yeah they were cool and pretty but not gonna lie, nothing ever left me speechless like your art did. And yeah...I'm biased as fuck, especially because I thought that the look in your eyes was the prettiest out of everything. That sounds cheesy as shit but you make me feel cheesy as shit."

You had stopped crying, left drained and nuzzled against Katsuki while you looked for an anchor to hold onto. And he held you.

"I like seeing you paint the most though, I like how you focus...I like how you curse under your breath, I like how you grin when something looks right, I like how you scan art supplies before you buy them. I like your paint stained hands and your paint water mugs even when I've accidently taken a sip from them. I like that how you laugh when I do that shit. I love that look of pride you have when you're done and staring at it.

It makes you happy so even if I don't understand the point of it, it means a lot to me because of that. So, whenever that thing stops being fun for you, and really stops being fun for you, I'll support you if you wanna stop. But I gotta keep seeing your work, baby, cuz it's like the inside of your head and it's really neat."

You let a few more tears drop, sniffling and looking into his eyes. There was no ingenuity, only pure emotion. And you let him kiss your tears away, you let him pat your head and you let him make you drink water and feed you.

Because it was never a burden for him to do those things, but a priveledge.

The very next day, the same set of paints were in your bag. Brand new and untouched. Along with three different watercolour paper books. 100% pure cotton, 350 gcm.

With a note that said 'you're still down for a spanking for that shitty mouth of yours. Don't make it a habit.'

[gorgeouslypink]

hey guys! in my previous post, i said that if you needed to vent, you could do so in my asks and I read every single one of the asks and to be honest, I was so teary eyed. everyone's stories were so heartbreaking and their feelings were so raw and genuine and honestly, it reminded me a lot of my old situation and how much i struggled and it made me want to do something, which is why I'm making this post.

this is going to be a 3 day challenge to improve your void concept so you can really get into the void! read through it and modify it how it best suits you. also, a lot of this was taken from my anon's success stories so trust me, you will succeed.

day 1: choose a subliminal for the void state and you're going to listen to it as much as you can for the entire day. a lot of my anons succeeded with this one, this one, and this one and if you're in a position where you just can't listen to any sounds, use this silent field. if you just can't listen to subliminals, then do this exercise how many ever times you want. (yes, you can do the exercise and listen to subliminals).

basically take this day as a subconcious repgramming day, don't worry about anything else. try staying off tumblr and just doing fun stuff and if you really are addicted to tumblr/void, then read all my proof portfolio links. but basically all you're doing this day is letting the affirmations sink into your brain so that your subconcious beliefs are aligned with the 3d you are trying to create.

that night, i want you to do this shifting hypnosis video (no you wont shift if you dont want to) and basically after she finishes talking, affirm your void concept affirmations (the void is easy, i always wake up in the void, etc ) over and over. you might actually end up entering the void or waking up in the void from this alone but even not, it takes you a pretty deep meditative state where you can really reprogram your subconcious mind.

day 2: this day you're going to be repeating day 1's activities except instead of the shifting hypnosis (unless you really ended up liking it), anytime you want, you're going to do this instant manifestation portal meditation, because it just feels so good and works so well so honestly, don't be shocked if you end up waking up in the void this day.

day 3: this day repeat whatever it is that made you feel good from the 2 previous days and then that night, do this parallel reality meditation. it's basically just a meditation to put you into your ideal state but they worded it as shifting to a parallel reality in which you exist as your ideal state but yeah, it's just a powerful tool to help you enter a state of having your ideal void concept and always entering the void easily. honestly if you don't want to do the entire challenge but want just one powerful thing to do, i recommend this. just try it out and trust me, you won't regret it.

i feel like this challenge comes off as a lot but it's just because i explain too much. here's a simplified version:

day 1: listen to sub or do reprogramming exercise and then at night, do hypnosis video

day 2: listen to sub or do reprogramming exercise and then do instant manifestation portal mediation (yes you can do hypnosis video again if you want)

day 3: listen to sub or do reprogramming exercise and then do parallel reality meditation (basically meditation to enter ideal state)

anyways, don't be shocked if you commit to the challenge and end up not being able to finish it because you already entered the void before the 3 days are up and if you do successfully complete it, your void concept is going to be so good and you already know you're going to enter the void so easily.

i really hope all of you do this or atleast your own version of it and i really wish the best for everyone 💗

[loveinhawkins]

Up until recent events, Eddie hasn’t really put much thought into flashlights—save for that time he had to take out the batteries in the T.V remote to get his to work, back when the power went wonky last summer.

But now? Oh, as soon as he’s through with this whole nightmare, Eddie’s gonna find out whichever saint invented the damn things and start a petition to get them a federal holiday. That’s gonna be his whole… raisin something, something—he thinks it’s French, Buckley will know.

Fucking wondrous creations.

… Okay, he might still be a little jittery.

So sue him. It’s either run with his increasingly stupid train of thought or have a thoroughly justified panic about—well, there’s just so much to choose from: the ash in the air, the apparently sentient vines on the ground, how it’s so fucking cold and dark—

Jesus H. Christ, calm down.

It’s not all that dark anyway—or at least, it’s not as dark as it could be. Steve’s lighting the way, flashlight in hand. Honestly, Eddie thinks he should get it preserved, like in one of those glass cabinets in museums, complete with a plaque: This bulb somehow survived a journey from the depths of a lake into an alternate dimension, and all for the low, low price of…

Well, Eddie doesn’t know how much it cost. He’ll workshop the whole plaque thing.

In his reverie, he stumbles carelessly, nearly pitching over right into Hive Mind territory.

“Ah, shit,” he whispers.

Steve’s hand must move because the light drifts over—ends up illuminating much more of Eddie’s path than Steve’s.

“Thanks,” Eddie says—glances sideways to find Steve already looking at him.

“Think I’m the one who should be thanking you,” Steve replies.

His hand flexes, as if he’d gone to twirl the flashlight before catching himself; Eddie has a very faint memory of Steve doing the same with pencils in class and fights a private smile.

“You gave me it,” Steve continues. “I would’ve just… gone right in without thinking.”

It’s said self-deprecatingly, but Eddie would argue that Steve’s impulsivity (his courage) is an admirable character trait, even if it sets his heart pounding.

His own problem is that he thinks too damn much, until the window of opportunity has almost been and gone.

He was the only one to hesitate before diving into the lake: he knows all too well how that could’ve made its way onto the increasingly long list of moments that haunt him.

He could’ve been too late, could’ve not found the Gate at all—and then, would only have been able to pathetically swim back to the kids and tell them that their heroes were gone.

The light skips onwards just a little, encourages Eddie to look up from his feet. He blinks a few times to try and adjust to the darkness looming ahead. There, the indistinct outline of trees, and he’s drawn back to a classroom again, to the soporific noise of chalk on a blackboard, to…

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.

“The hell is that from?” Eddie wonders, and he doesn’t realise he’s also said the quote aloud until Steve speaks.

“S’a poem. Robert Frost.”

Eddie clicks his fingers. “See, that’s why you actually passed English.”

Steve rocks his hand back and forth, so-so.

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Don’t play coy now, Harrington.”

“I’m not, I passed by the skin of my teeth, dude.” Steve looks into the distance as he walks, like he’s being drawn back to some place, too. “I was meant to, um, submit a portfolio thing, and I just… didn’t.”

“Like stories and shit?”

Steve smiles. “Mm-hmm, and shit. Poems, too.”

“So why didn’t you…?”

Steve just shrugs in reply so Eddie changes tack—rolls his eyes expansively, but only at himself.

“Fucking Frost. Ugh, why can I remember that shit now, but when a paper’s in front of me, it’s just…” Eddie mimes an explosion in the back of his head, gone.

“Well,” Steve says, chuckling, “if the, uh, lovely atmosphere of this place jogs your memory, we’ll make some time, get you to write an essay.” He grins at Eddie, teasing and charming in equal measure. “We’re nothing if not productive.”

“Sure, that’s one word for it.”

Joking aside, Eddie finds that the mention of school calms his heart somewhat: to think of the foreboding sights around him as part of a story. Maybe it’s a control thing, like his campaigns. Dress shit up, put a film on top, then you don’t have to look at it directly.

He suggests as such to Steve in a longwinded ramble, and gets a thoughtful look in response.

“Like the Shire? And Mordor?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “Yeah, exactly.”

Steve nods slightly. The movement dislodges some particles in his hair—and yes, it helps, Eddie thinks, to believe it’s just freshly fallen snow.

“Yeah, that sorta never really worked for me?” Steve’s voice goes up at the end, almost apologetically, although for the life of him, Eddie can’t work out what he’s apologising for. “Like, when the kids ran with all the D&D stuff, the uh… analogy? Metaphor?”

Eddie gestures at himself with one hand, I failed English.

Steve laughs. “Yeah, whatever. Dustin and Lucas keep hashing that one out. Anyway, it didn’t exactly… help. Help me, I mean. Just made everything more…”

He sighs heavily.

Eddie thinks he understands. All his bullshit is just a veneer, after all: it doesn’t truly mask the fear.

“Hey, maybe you could give it a shot,” Steve adds. The light dances for a second, like he’s just barely resisted twirling the flashlight again.

“What?”

Steve smirks—juvenile, light-hearted, almost like he’s about to challenge Eddie at the school gym, like, bet you can’t make that shot from center court, Munson.

“You could write a poem. Make sense of…” Steve gestures around them.

“Harrington, as I keep reminding you, I failed English.”

“Yeah, so? I’ve heard Henderson go on about your campaigns, dude, s’not like they come from nothing.” Steve looks Eddie up and down in exaggerated scrutiny. “You look like the kinda guy who loves a theme.”

“Oh, really,” Eddie says flatly. He can’t hide his smile even if he tried.

“That’s what I thought, every time you’d come into class late: oh, here he is. The symbolism.”

“Jesus Christ, Harrington, shut up.” Eddie steps into Steve’s space just to shove him away (just to touch). He thinks that if he were to try his hand at poetry, it’d be horrendously self-indulgent—something about how he might not be the one holding a flashlight right now, but he’s certainly carrying a torch.

“I don’t work for free, Steve. You’ve gotta do one, too.”

“A poem for a poem, huh?” Steve says. “Sure. It’s a deal.”

And yeah, they might just be saying anything to pass the time. But Eddie chooses to believe otherwise; there’s still a pensive flicker in Steve’s eyes that makes him think he might just get lucky, that Steve might even dig up some old stuff from his abandoned portfolio.

It’s a nice thought—something to look forward to, at the end of all this.

He considers Steve, and even though he knows it’s not snow, he can’t help but turn the particles into flakes in his mind again, into something prettier, safe—almost as if Steve’s presence has softened the danger.

He wants to stop here, suddenly. Linger. It doesn’t make sense. But it feels like time is…

A gentle nudge—a warm elbow to his side.

“C’mon, daydreamer,” Steve says. “You can write down whatever you’re thinking later.”

Eddie snaps out of it with a breath of a chuckle, follows Steve’s light again. Keeps moving forward—past the ash, and the vines, and the trees.

The woods won’t be forever.

After all, he’s got promises to keep.

[mattsenthusiast]

𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖞 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖔𝖓 𝖈𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖗𝖆~ Matt Sturniolo

Word count: 5330

Summary: The reader gets hired as a photographer for her favourite band. Matt can’t help but be extremely interested in the girl, which leads to him making a bold move on stage.

Warnings: smut smut SMUT, smut with plot though, BDSM; slapping, hair pulling, tying up, blindfold, pain kink, exhibition kink and breath play if you squint, sub!Matt and dom!Reader, mommy kink, nicknames, use of vibrator, oral (m and f receiving), degrading, praising, finger sucking, cum feeding, face sitting, semi-public sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys), p in v, the bands name being ,,The Fingerers” is hilarious

————————

The feeling that was flowing through my veins probably could not be described with words. One of my favorite bands ,,The Fingerers” was having a show in my city, so how could I pass such an occasion? But just being there would not give me the satisfaction I needed, since I was a professional photographer, why not send my portfolio to the venue with proposition to be a scene cameraman?

I didn’t expect much but it was always worth a shot. So when I actually got an email back saying that they would gladly hire me for the time of the concert, I was on cloud nine.

The thought of being so close to them was overtaking my mind. The show was still a week ahead, but it didn’t stop me from planning stuff the whole time. I made sure that everything was perfect- from my equipment to my appearance. Come on I couldn’t pass a chance to look my best in front of the Sturniolos. They were insanely attractive so I obviously had to reach their level if I’m going to stand next to them. Also I can’t hide the fact that I have a thing for the guitarist Matt.

And here I am now, standing in the backstage and about to meet all three of the band members. I anxiously swayed from one leg to another and began fidgeting with the hem of my skirt that reached to my mid thigh.

I was very pleased with my outfit. It was an all black, considering that it was a rock concert and I didn’t want to be too out of place with some light colored clothes. I had a corset top that was paired with the skirt. I wore a big leather jacket over it to add this outfit a little bit more personality. The base was paired with fishnets and high, massive boots that made me taller than I already was and I also added some chains to top it all.

I felt super good with the way I looked today and it was definitely a big confidence boost.

Suddenly I was pulled from my thoughts when I heard the door opening and saw three familiar faces in the frame. Nick was the first one to enter the room, when he noticed me there he immediately started talking to me.

,,Hey! You must be the photographer for the show, am I right? I’m Nick and these two behind me are Matt and Chris” he said while pointing to the guys. I looked at them and Chris gave me a wave and smile while Matt just stared at me with his arms crossed on his chest.

Holy fuck and did he look hot as hell. His black, sleeveless shirt was exposing his toned, tattooed arms and collarbones that were begging for me to just bite into them. He also had a leather jacket draped over his right shoulder and a necklace dangling from his neck. I scanned down and my eyes landed on his hands, his fucking long fingered and ringed hands. I was sure that one touch from them could kill me and make me never want to have anything or anyone else touch me. He looked like an absolute daydream. My gaze landed on his face and my breathing stopped for a good second, he was wearing a fucking eyeliner that perfectly compliment his features. My heart could surely be heard from across the room.

I cleared my throat to get back to reality and looked back at Nick ,,yes I’m y/n I’m a big fan of your music guys, I can’t wait to take some damn good pictures for you” I laughed slightly to seem less awkward and he smiled back at me.

Chris walked up to Nick ,,Okay so we need to set up and we’re ready to go in a few. See you there” he gave me a quick hug and walked past me. It wasn’t long until the two other guys followed his lead, but I couldn’t help but notice Matt’s eyes piercing into me as he walked by. My mind was sabotaging me with all of the thoughts that were wildly running through it.

When I turned around and I couldn’t see them anymore I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Fuck this is going to be a long night.

Since I still had a bit of time before the show starts I decided to check if my camera was working. Just as I was about to snap a test picture I saw Matt appearing from the back of the curtains. He was humming a song, not looking into my direction at first, but when he picked up one of the last speakers and turned around to leave, his stare landed on me. He stopped right in front of my camera while I hit the button and the familiar snapping sound was heard. Without any word he just walked away with a smirk placed on his lips.

I looked at the photo I had just taken and fuck the camera was working well. Maybe a little bit too good even, I couldn’t pull my eyes from the sight on the screen. His damn arms are going to be the death of me tonight. I took a deep breath and looked at my phone to check the time. There was about 5 minutes left until we have to start so I took my camera, extra lenses and batteries just in case, and made my way onto the stage.

The venue was prepared fabulously, the lights matched perfectly with the vibe of the band and a screen behind the instruments was showing a big writing that said ,,The Fingerers” in a sharp font.

The boys were already in their places, waiting for the material to be lifted in less than three minutes. Chris was adjusting the microphone in front of him, Nick was hitting invisible drums with his sticks and Matt was tuning his guitar.

I gave them one last smile before making my way to the side where I was supposed to start filming.

The curtains were being lifted as the guys started playing their first song of the night. A huge wave of screaming fans could be heard along with the music. I was glad that I had some headphones on my head because otherwise a headache that would appear later would kill me.

I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t looking at Matt the whole time, the way his fingers swiftly ran across the strings of the guitar was filling my mind with so many unholy thoughts. I could feel myself becoming wet and had to press my legs together for a bit of friction.

I didn’t even notice when the first song ended and they smoothly transitioned to another one. I needed to take some individual shots of them all so I made my way towards the middle, starting with Nick and his drums. I made sure to catch a good shot of him head banging to the beat and spinning his drumstick in his right hand.

I started walking backwards and turned the camera towards Chris. At that exact moment his eyes were closed as he was gripping the base of the microphone, but when he opened them he turned his head towards me and smiled. After a second his whole body was turned into my direction and he took a step closer. I couldn’t say that it didn’t make me internally screaming because it definitely did.

Then suddenly I felt someone’s back being pressed to mine. I tilted my head slightly to the side only to see Matt’s face being inches apart from mine. I bit my lips and pulled the camera’s attention from Chris to him.

His hair was sticking to his forehead from the heat of the room and his eyeliner was slightly smudged as well. It was time for his guitar solo, but then he did something that I would’ve never expected. He looked right into my eyes and winked at me as he slowly made his way onto his knees, without breaking the eye contact. He flawlessly played the song while throwing his head back with his lips slightly parted.

If I wasn’t weak before then I definitely was now. I was practically fucking him with my eyes. The lust on my face was so visible and the wetness in my underwear was begging to be taken care of. The solo was coming to an end and right when he played the last cords he slightly lifted his body while still being on his knees and threw his head and arms to the back.

Not even five seconds passed when he looked back into my eyes while panting heavily and smirking sinfully. His hands made their way to the back of my thighs, right under my skirt to help himself stand up. Our bodies were so close I could feel him pressing against me. I let out a quiet gasp as he laughed and walked away, getting back to playing.

Matt was such a heavy distraction for me during the show. The glances and smiles he was sending me could easily put me into coma, but I had to stay on the ground for the sake of getting the money from my job. I was so focused on him to the point where I didn’t even realize that they played three other songs and it was time for a break. As the curtains were getting closed I started to make my way to the backstage, just to be stopped by someone. Of course it was Matt, how could it not be.

,,hey guys I’m gonna go to the van really quick because I need to get something. You don’t mind going with me, do you?” he said while looking into my eyes. The eye contact was so intense, I couldn’t even bring myself to let any words fall from my mouth so I just nodded my head. Just after I made that gesture he took my hand into his and led me somewhere to an unknown for me direction.

,,uhhhh sorry but I think the parking lot is on the other si-“ I got cut off by being pressed to a door and feeling Matt’s lips on mine. The piece of wood behind me was soon opened and he dragged me inside of the room, that later turned out to be a bathroom.

His lips were moving against mine smoothly yet so roughly. I could feel his teeth biting my bottom lip and our noses bumping together. If kissing Matt wasn’t a drug then it absolutely should be counted as one. I couldn’t pull away even if I wanted to. One of his hands was on my neck and the other one was grazing the skin under my shirt. We were panting heavily as my hands made their way from his neck to his hair. In the heat of the moment I pulled on it and I was cut off guard from the noise that has fallen from his mouth.

He just fucking moaned

This situation made me separate from him, as a smirk appeared on my face. ,,Looks like someone has a thing for having his hair pulled. I wonder if there’s more things that I can get out of you” I moved closer to his ear, so I can whisper to it. ,,Maybe if I slapped your pretty face then you’d enjoy it too, or if I tied you up and put a blindfold over your eyes so you’d have no control of what’s happening, would you like that? I bet you’d take it so well, like a good boy that you are. You’ve got such a innocent look in your eyes but deep down, you’re just a fucking slut, that would do anything just to have his face buried into something.” The words full of praise yet so degrading were flowing out of my mouth so effortlessly. It was easy to talk like this to a man that just looks like he could be destroyed.

His lips were open now and he was quite literally speechless. I couldn’t help but chuckled at his state and took an advantage of it and turned us around, so now his back was pressed to the door. I took one hand from his hair and brought it to his black pants. It was clear that he was already hard. As i was palming his clothed dick, my lips made its way to his neck as I started to leave wet and warm trail of kisses on his neck. And oh boy when I tell you that he was vocal. His moans and whimpers were music to my ears.

,,please, pleasee- fuck” he struggled to speak ,,If you don’t stop soon I’ll cum into my pants ma, please” he was begging so beautifully and it only encouraged me to keep giving him pleasure.

,,hmmm but you’d like that baby. Getting all dirty in your underwear and then having to get everything done for the night with that mess. You’d feel and remember what I did to you and then at the end of the day you’d beg me to take care of that for you.”

,,I get all wet just by imagining you like this. Fuck I wish I could just ruin you right here and now, you have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this. Every time I’ve watched your shows I would touch myself to the image of you and your dick poking out. Do you get turned on by performing? Do you come just from the sensation of being watched and praised?”

,,mfm fuck, yes” he whimpered painfully and he broke the eye contact.

,,yes what? You need to address me properly slut” I added and harshly grabbed his face, so he was looking up at me.

,,yes ma’am, yes I do find pleasure in being watched, please fuck I can’t take it”

I only smirked at this and went even faster. All I could hear from him were broken noises, that he couldn’t even try to keep in his throat. I stopped touching him for a moment, just to unbuckle his pants, but just as I was about to do it, we heard a knock on the door.

,,hey guys I heard a noise from there and just wanted to check if everything is alright? We’re about to get back on stage” a familiar voice asked. It was one of Matt’s brothers- Chris. I looked at the man in front of me and smiled mischievously. I started to palm him again and mouthed to him to be a good boy and answer his brother.

,,yeah- mmmm, yes we’re about to get out just, fuck, just give us a minute” he sounded so pathetic, barely being able to keep those louder noises in. All we heard was unsure hum of agreement and then a fading sound of footsteps.

,,you did so good, now we have to go back. But first let me just” I took a step back for a moment and reached under my skirt. When I found two strings on my hips that I was looking for, I pulled them down, making my panties go down my legs. Matt’s eyes widened as I stepped out of them and put them in the air to give him a better view ,,now you’re going to take care of them since I was so good for you.” I demanded as I put the piece of fabric into his pocket. A visible blush was place on his face and the bulge in his pants looked even more painful now.

,,Come on sweetheart, you have a concert to finish” I pet his shoulder, giggled slightly and started to make my way out of the room. He took a deep breath and followed right behind me like a lost puppy.

***

It was time for them to play their last song of the show. The lights were flickering, only adding the sensuality to this already arousing situation. The heat of the crowd make sweet drip down my neck and the dirty lyrics that were sang by Matt now were going straight to my core.

The fact that I didn’t have my underwear on was not helping at all. Besides the fact that I had a strong urge to just touch myself in front of all of those people, I found my gaze wandering to the place where I put the lace fabric. If you looked close enough, you could easily spot them in Matt’s left pocket, peaking just a little bit.

Oh I’m going to fuck this man so well after this ends

The minutes that felt like hours were passing by, when the finally awaited moment came. Nick played the last beats of the song on his drums and right after he finished, the fans went crazy. They were screaming and cheering for their lives, and I’m not going to lie that if I was there I would be doing the same. The boys lined up to bow and Matt straightened his arm to show me to go and stand with them. When I reached my destination I was met with his hand landing on my waist, putting a horny grip on it.

,,please go to the room 244. I’ll come to you right after I help the guys carry the equipment and tell them that I’m tired” he whispered to my ear and licked right below it. Just as the curtains were closing, he turned me around and tucked the card to the hotel room into my bra.

,,will do baby” I winked at him and ,accidentally’ brushed my hand against his hard on. Before he could even show me his reaction I moved past him ,,it was really nice working with you guys, you’re all amazing and I hope to meet you again in the future, you know hit me up if you need to take some pics” I sent a smile into their direction and went to the backstage to grab my bag.

After taking all of my belongings I started to make my way into the room. My head full of filthy scenarios that I would love to put Matt in and just make him cry and beg for mercy. I didn’t even realize when the door of the elevator opened and I got out of it.

I admired the beautiful design of the corridor. And holy shit, it must be expensive to rent a hotel here. The floor was decorated with beautiful, red carpet and the walls had multiple paintings on them. The frames were shiny and gold, just like the knobs on the doors. It took me a few seconds before I finally saw the number I was looking for. Gorgeous 244 was visible on the dark wood and I pressed the card that Matt gave me to the small screen. As it let out a quiet beep noise I opened the door and was met with darkness and a strong scent of expensive perfume and mint.

I turned the lights on and the inside had the same vibe as the corridor, golden elements and red, silky sheets. It was extremely spacious and had a big window that led to the balcony. There still was enough privacy though, because I was on the sixth floor. The king sized bed was facing a huge mirror with a shelf right next to it.

I kept admiring the space for a few more moments before I heard the door open. I was met with the sight of Matt, his make up smudged from the sweat and his hair a complete mess. He leaned on the doorframe with his arm crossed as a made a ,come here’ motion with two of my fingers.

He immediately obeyed, his eyes never leaving mine. As he was right in front of me, I grabbed his face and put my lips on him. The kiss even hotter and more desperate than before. He was grinding against me for some friction and lord I could already feel how huge he is.

I didn’t want him to get too confident though so I led him to the bed and pushed him, so he was laying on his back. His pink lips swollen from the previous make out and all I can say is that he looked like a wet dream.

,,I can finally have you all to myself sweetheart, spread out just for me and fuck you look so good on red” I couldn’t even hide my neediness, I was hungry for him and I knew that he felt the same way.

,,don’t think that it would be that easy though Matt. I’m so glad that I prepared myself and took more of my equipment, not just the camera” I took my bag that I put on the floor next to the bed and started to pull out ropes, blindfold, lube and a vibrator ,,it’s not much but once you come to my house with me I’ll make sure I treat you even better.”

With that being said I made my way on top of him, his lips immediately chasing to mine but I stopped him.

,,no touching baby, unless you want me to add more to your punishment, because of the shit that you pulled on the stage. You teased me with no permission and expected me to do nothing? Now be good and take your shirt off for me” I warned and I could see his eyes growing even darker with lust. He lifted the material from his chest and threw it somewhere across the room. I could see his whole body tensing from under me, flexing his slightly toned arms.

After admiring him for a moment, I took the long roped and put his hands to the bed frame. He gladly let me do it, not protesting once. A beautiful knot was being made on his wrists as I finished my work with a little bow.

,,is this okay love?” I made sure and kissed his neck.

,,yes it’s incredible, it feels incredible. Please make me feel good mommy please I need it. Need it so bad”

My eyes widened at the new nickname that fell from him but I wasn’t complaining. It got me a new wave of confidence to pleasure my boy.

,,poor baby, all worked up and I didn’t even touch you. The way you’re so sensitive is so pathetic yet so hot you have no idea. You were made to be used by me.” With that being said I slapped the side of his face. He was clearly caught of guard but the noise that me let out showed that he really enjoyed it.

,,now I’m going to put that blindfold over your eyes. You’re not going to be able to control anything and you’ll just lay here and let me have you however I want. Is this okay with you?”

,,yes you can do whatever you want. My body is all for you fuck” he whined out.

Nothing else had to be said and I tied the fabric around his head, making sure it’s not too tight but also puts some pressure.

,,if it gets too much just say ,red’ and I’ll stop. Otherwise I’ll just keep going so remember it baby” I kissed him one last time before staring to unbuckle his belt.

I was doing it slowly on purpose to keep him worked up. I then moved to his zipper and pulled it down with a harsh motion, so it rubbed right against his dick. He moaned loudly at the contact and lifted his hips up for some more.

I had to push it down in order for him to follow my rules ,,If I remember correctly then I asked you not to move, you’re such a slut that can’t even control himself” the degradation was getting straight to his bulge, making it aching even more.

Finally, I pulled his pants down in a swift motion, right along with his underwear. And when I tell you that he really was big.

He was about 8 inches long and really girthy. There was a vein that sat on the right side of it. The tip was red and leaking with pre-come. The sight of his was incredibly beautiful to a point where I just wanted to suck him off forever if that meant that I could be near him.

My eyes wander a bit up to his v line and I was met with a black ink decorating his pale skin. I couldn’t help myself and started licking and sucking along it. I could sense that his sweet spot was on it by the whimper that was ripped out of his throat. I decided to mark this place with a purple hickey.

Licking my way down to his thighs I was getting so close to where he needed me yet so far. He was tugging on the rope from impatience and neediness and I found it extremely amusing. I finally lick the side of his cock right to the tip.

,,fuck ma your tongue’s so warm, keep going please”

I chuckled and started to suck on his tip. He was enjoying it just as much as I was. I took him about half way in when I decided to reach for the vibrator right next to me. My eyes were literally glowing from the idea and I turned it up to a medium setting, putting it to the base of his dick.

His breathing sped up from this unexpected feeling and it was only going faster and faster as I put the toy to his tip.

,,please too much mmm, I’m going to cum if you don’t stop” his whole body was shaking and I just put the vibrator on a higher setting.

The screams that i was getting out of him were followed by a white liquid shooting out onto his stomach. He panted heavily as the first orgasm of the night washed over him. Matt was expecting me to pull the toy away but I didn’t. I just kept it at his still rosy tip as my other hand stroked the rest of his dick.

I knew he was already extremely sensitive from one orgasm so it would be easy to over simulate him.

,,im going to make you cum so well until you spent and dry. And then I’ll still lick you up to make you clean, do you understand?”

,,yes- yes mommy I understand please I’ll take everything you are willing to give me”

As he finished the sentence another string of cum was splashed onto his abdomen. I finally turned the vibrator off and threw it onto the bed.

Two of my fingers made its way into the pool of come and I dipped them into it. Then I brought it to his lips and slightly tapped them ,,open up for me”.

And that’s what he did. I put my digits into his warm mouth and he closed them and sucked onto my fingers, tasting himself from them.

It was definitely a sight for sore eyes. I pulled my fingers out and bent down to lick the rest of his cum from his stomach.

,,since you’ve already tasted yourself, now you have to also taste me” I made my way up to straddle his face. The fact that I already didn’t have my underwear was extremely helpful in this situation ,,put that pretty mouth of yours into good use now” those were my last words before I sat on his face. The sensation of his nose on my clit immediately made me throw my head back with a long whine. He stuck his tongue right into my core and started tracing circles over it.

He definitely knew what he was doing. I swear I could see stars from how good it felt. I started to grind onto his face, practically cutting his access to the air, which only hade him groan into me.

,,holy shit Matt you’re doing so good sweetheart, just a bit more, I’m almost done- yes yes right there” I made sure to leave little words of encouragement to let him know that he’s doing a wonderful job.

I put my hands into his fluffy curls to steady myself and he moaned. This brought me to the edge and I came all over his face.

,,mmmm baby you did amazing I’m so proud of you, made me feel so good” small whispers were leaving me as I took my time to steady my breathing. Finally, I lifted myself up to see the mess that I left on him, but to my surprise not only did his face was white but also his stomach, yes again.

,,awww did you just come from giving me head I can’t believe it. You’re even bigger whore than I thought” even tho I couldn’t see his eyes I knew he had tears in them from the humiliation. His face all red and he tilted his head to the side to hide it into his shoulder, since his hands were stuck above him.

,,ah ah no hiding there” I took his chin into my hand and turned it my way. After letting go of it I reached behind his head to untie the blindfold and take it off. ,,now listen carefully, I’m going to ride you and you’re not going to pull your eyes away from me. I need your dick buried deep into me more than anything”

With that being said I took off my shirt and bra to give Matt a show. His gaze immediately landing on my boobs and I could see his hands and mouth trying to reach for them.

I took the lube that I put on the bed earlier and squeezed some onto my hand and stroked him a few times before taking his dick and sinking right onto it.

We both moaned in unison and his face twisted in pleasure. It was already tears stained and with black make up running down his cheeks. After adjusting to his size for a moment I started moving up and down on him. The air was filled with the sound of our moans and skin slapping together. Sweat was dripping down my forehead as I went faster.

,,fuck you’re so tight around me ma I can feel you squeezing my dick” he whined out. I knew he was not going to last long because of his previous orgasms.

My hands were rubbing up and down his stomach and my nails were leaving red trails of marks on there. Those will stay on there for a long time and remind Matt who he belongs to.

With a few more moves of my hips I say his eyes roll into the back of his skull and his head being thrown back. The feeling of him shooting his cum deep inside me brought me to edge as well and I came right after him. I rode out our highs for a minute and lifted up from him.

,,wow that was intense” Matt chuckled breathlessly and smile was crippling onto his face.

,,I know baby, but you did so good. Such a good boy for me” I kept telling him sweet nothings while untying his hands and leaving soft kisses along his bruised wrists ,,now let me take care of you, I’ll run you a bath and you just rest here”

,,thank you so much angel. You’re incredible for me holy shit how did I even get so lucky tonight”

With those words being said I passionately kissed him on the lips and made my way to run the bath.

————————

I hope you enjoyed and that the grammar is not that bad😜 not proofread

[gimmethatagustd]

wanna make a movie | kth

The one time you fucked Taehyung was a fluke, and it will never happen ever again in a million years. Never ever ever. Right? RIGHT??

» pairing: taehyung x reader (from "wanna fuck on camera")

» genre: BTS | 18+ | frenemies to lovers | smut | a bit of fluff kinda

» wc/date: 3.7k | september 2022

» warnings: i meannn they're making a sex tape soooo | cunnilingus | unprotected vaginal sex | fingering | tae's pull out game strong 💪🏽 | cumshot | tae is Annoying but Hot | i definitely didn't edit this LOL SORRY

» notes: shoutout to this person for the video, we owe them big time 🤪 i recommend reading "wanna fuck on camera" first, but this can work as a standalone

» masterlist | ao3 | send me ur thots 👅

» what was jai listening to? movie star - cix

The Wannabe-Photographer Chronicles (mini-series) Masterlist

“I already told you I’m not posing for nudes, asshole. Is the one you took of me not enough for you? Hmm?”

Taehyung grinned as he popped out the flip screen on his camera. “I don’t want to take photos of you. I want to film you.”

He was such a piece of shit. He really was. Since your ridiculous entanglement with Taehyung during Hoseok’s birthday party, Taehyung hadn’t left you alone. It was worse than before; he suddenly believed fucking him gave him a free pass to get on your nerves even more than he had to begin with. 

You hated it and you hated him. That was all there was to it. 

Crossing your arms against your chest, you glared at the man as he fiddled with the camcorder. This was infinitely worse than the film camera debacle. You didn’t even want to consider what he’d done with the photo of you cumming on his fingers. The thought of him having it made you shiver. 

“Film me doing what?” You immediately regretted the question when it left your lips and Taehyung’s eyebrows shot up. The smug, shit-eating grin on his face was almost unbearable. 

“Well, babe-” 

“Do not call me that.” 

“Well, Y/N.” He gave you a pointed look. “I need to diversify my portfolio and the only thing I’m missing is erotic art.” 

You scoffed and crossed your legs. At this point, you were a pretzel sitting on the edge of Taehyung’s couch. “You’re disgusting.” 

“Thank you,” he said with a sweet smile. “But I promise what I have planned isn’t as ‘disgusting’ as you probably think.” 

You didn’t trust him for shit, but you liked the idea of hearing what he had to say even if only to shut him down. You were looking for every reason to shit on his massive ego, maybe because you were embarrassed that you gave in to him when you said you wouldn’t. 

It was a fluke, though. A moment of bad judgment. You were thinking with your pussy. But not anymore. Nope. 

Fool me once, shame on you.

“What are your twisted little plans then, TaTa?” You shifted slightly when Taehyung moved to sit down next to you on the couch, forcing you up against the arm of the couch and giving you very little room. 

“Have you ever done a striptease before?” 

“I fucking told you I am not doing nudes.” 

Taehyung swiftly grabbed your jaw and turned your head to face him. The forced action made you gasp quietly, just enough to release a breathy sound when you exhaled. He watched you for a moment with the tip of his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek. “Fucking listen to me, yeah?” 

You could do nothing but nod, your eyes glued to his parted lips. 

“I don’t need you to be naked. I just need some shots of you taking off your clothes.” You opened your mouth to protest, but Taehyung squeezed your jaw tighter. “Headless shots, okay? Nothing identifiable. No nudity. Think of it as like an OnlyFans teaser, but make it hipster. Slap on a grainy, sepia filter. Or maybe a soft pink glow. I haven’t decided yet.” 

You were barely listening to him, most of your focus on how his hand had slowly let go of your face and migrated down to your throat. Your heartbeat spiked beneath his fingers. 

“Why are you asking me to do this?” 

Taehyung pulled away and returned to examining his camera settings. “Everyone I know who’d be down to do this would try to fuck me. Considering the theme, and everything. It would be so distracting.” He looked up at you through his fluffy bangs with a sparkle of mischief in his eyes. “You’re hot and would never fuck me, as you’ve made very clear.” He paused for a moment, tapping his finger against his lips. “Well, not a second time.” 

And there was that stupid fucking boxy grin again. 

“Oh shut the fuck up.” You were tired of playing games. “How much are you going to pay me?” 

“Depends on how good the shots are.” 

“Whatever. Let’s get this over with,” you huffed. 

Taehyung hummed in acknowledgment but didn’t make a move to get up. His fingers brushed along the outside of your thigh until he reached the waistband of your leggings. You fought the urge to squirm in your seat, instead doing your best to mindfully breathe and keep your fists squeezed against the couch cushions. 

“What are you wearing under here?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You challenged him through gritted teeth. 

Taehyung leaned forward until his breath caressed the side of your face. “I’m about to find out.” 

With that, Taehyung stood up and held his hand out for you to take. You swatted him away, perfectly capable of getting up on your own and following him into his bedroom. To say his bedroom looked like a porno setup was no exaggeration. A large studio light stood in the corner, the head pointed toward the bed. Another camera sat on a tripod on the opposite side of the room, though it was pointed away from the bed. LED lights wrapped around the high ceilings cast the room a soft lavender glow. 

“Are you kidding me?” You stood in the doorway with your hands on your hips. 

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Do you see how small my apartment is? I have nowhere else to store my equipment when I’m not using it. Relax and come here.” 

Grabbing you by the shoulders, Taehyung positioned you in front of a standing mirror that stood against the wall directly across from his bed. He took a step back to examine your placement, making a few adjustments until he got you where he wanted you. 

“Satisfied?” Your skin was tingling from his firm touch as he shuffled you around. It was just your body reacting to skin-on-skin contact. That was all. It was just… nature. Science. Whatever. 

“Very,” he said with a wink that you did a poor job of brushing off. The burning heat of embarrassment creeping up your body only intensified as you watched Taehyung sit at the foot of his bed. With his camcorder in hand, he leaned back far enough to get the angle he wanted. It was harmless, really. He was just a struggling artist trying to make his mark in the world, that’s all. And you were half-heartedly helping him. 

So if that was the case, why was watching Taehyung’s biceps flex as he held the camera and his thighs spread making you wet? 

You cleared your throat and looked away from the man splayed out on his bed like he was the one being filmed, not you. “What am I supposed to do now?” 

Taehyung reached up to run his fingers through his hair and flip his bangs to the side. All you could think about was how you knew tugging on those wavy strands would make him moan. 

“Start with your shirt. Wait, no, not like that.”

You had one arm out and froze. “Like what?” 

“Do it sexier.” 

“What the fuck does that mean?” 

“Oh, come on. Stop relying on that silver tongue and seduce me.”

Was it possible to feel like all your blood had drained out of your body and that all the blood in your body had gone to your head? 

“Fine,” you snapped, readjusting your shirt. The positive side to all of this was that as you slowly lifted your shirt over your head, you could revel in the fact that you knew Taehyung wanted you and he could never have you. 

Well, never again. 

But maybe that made it even better. He got a taste and you were denying him more. You had all the fucking power! 

You put in a little more effort to be sensual as you let your shirt fall to the floor. The red lace bra you wore lifted up a bit, exposing the underside of your tits, but you didn’t move to fix it like you normally would. Instead, you ran your hands over your exposed skin, even your own light touches causing goosebumps to form all over. It didn’t help that it was cold in Taehyung’s apartment. You wondered how high quality his camera was. If it was even half decent, it would pick up on how see-through the fabric was over your tits. It left little for the imagination, but Taehyung had already had your nipples in his mouth. 

The little asshole was leaned back again, shifting slightly to capture your best angles as you reached for the waistband of your leggings. You made the mistake of looking at his face rather than the camera lens. His tongue swept over his bottom lip as you slid your leggings down; you quickly looked away. 

This was just a favor. A favor for an art project. That was it. 

Bending at the waist meant you exposed the fact that you were wearing a rather skimpy thong - red lace, just like your bra. Adjusting your stance made your thighs rub together and you fought the urge to look down for fear that your underwear would be stained a dark red from how wet you were. 

A quiet groan from the bed made you look up at your photographer once again. His bottom lip was bitten between his teeth, but he immediately released it when he saw you looking. The two of you locked eyes as your bodies froze. 

“Why are you fucking wearing red lace?” 

You opened your mouth to speak but your brain couldn’t think of any response aside from the truth. And there was no way you were telling him the truth. There was no way you were telling Taehyung that you’d worn a matching set just in case something happened. Because nothing was supposed to happen.

Instead, you deflected. 

“Why are you hard right now?” 

You both looked down at the very prominent bulge that had grown in Taehyung’s jeans. He used his free hand to palm his cock and attempt to adjust it into a more comfortable position. 

“Why are you wet right now?” 

Now it was your turn. You finally dared to look at yourself, not surprised but still horrified to find your arousal soaking through the flimsy material of your thong. 

Taehyung lifted slightly so he was propped up on his elbows, the camera still positioned on you. You really prayed he wasn’t planning to use any audio for this video. Like as if that’s what mattered at the moment. 

“You’re so into this,” he said smugly. 

“No, I’m not.” Your rebuttal was weak, so weak it felt foreign coming from someone with a “silver tongue” like you. But when you watched Taehyung get up from the bed, your rebuttal wasn’t the only thing about you that was weak. 

“You’re not?” Taehyung pointed the camera toward your thighs as he reached down to press his thumb against your clit through your thong. You let out a shaky moan and felt more of your arousal soak your thong. “Sounds like you are. Feels like you are.” Taehyung fully palmed your pussy, pressing his fingers against your entrance. The action made your legs tremble and you squeezed his bicep for support. 

“Fuck you,” you hissed and dug your nails into his skin. 

“Heard that one before.” He shot you a wink. “And to think you got mad about the photo I took of you. If I’d known you’d get this wet for me so quickly, I would have brought this with me instead.” 

His taunting reminded you of the camcorder he still held in his hand. It was pointed downward as Taehyung hooked his finger into the waistband of your thong and pulled it down just enough for his fingers to dip inside your wet folds. 

“Taehyung,” you moaned when he thrust two fingers inside of you. The squelching sound your pussy made was sure to have been picked up by the camera. 

“Yeah, baby? You like that?” He pressed hard into your front wall repeatedly, the fluttering sensation making you reach for his shoulder with your other hand to stabilize yourself. “Like being my little movie star?” 

You wanted to cry when he pulled his fingers out of you, and your entire body shuddered when you felt him wipe his fingers on the inside of your thigh. The worry that he was only going to tease you to rub the whole thing in your face flashed into your mind, but it was quickly squashed once Taehyung was pressing the camera into your hands. 

“Like this.” He positioned you to point the camera downwards. 

“Wha-” 

Ignoring your confusion, Taehyung dropped to his knees, dragging your thong down your thighs as he went. The camera shook in your hands as he threw one of your legs over his shoulder. You could have came just from the way he looked up at you from between your thighs. How many times had you imagined this moment? More than you were willing to admit. And for all the fantasizing, you were lucky that it was even better than what you could have come up with on your own. He brushed his bangs out of the way and tilted his head so you had a clear view of his face as he ran his tongue flat against your lips. 

“Oh fuck,” you moaned. 

Taehyung reached up to grab your hand, stabilizing the camera. “Hold still for me, okay baby? You gotta hold still.” When he spoke his lips brushed against your skin, causing your arousal to stick in thin strings to his glistening mouth. 

Once your shaking subsided, Taehyung’s hands slid down to grab your ass. With his grip on you tight, he pulled you against his mouth. A hard suck to your clit made your hands tremble. By the time Taehyung began swirling the tip of his tongue around your clit in tight circles, you were shaking again. He had to reach up to hold your hand to stabilize the camera again. 

“I-I-I can’t,” you began to sob and shake your head. You had to wrap your fingers in Taehyung’s waves to focus the pressure of your building orgasm into something other than squeezing the fuck out of the camera in your other hand. Of course, each tug of his hair made Taehyung’s lovely baritone voice moan into your pussy, the vibrations pulsing through every nerve in your body. 

“Yes, you can.” The words came out breathy and hoarse in between hard sucks and kitten licks against your clit. You were close to believing in his faith in you until he slipped two fingers into your soaked pussy. 

“I’m…” You paused to suck in a deep breath as he pumped a mind-numbingly fast rhythm against your g-spot, “I’m gonna fall over.” 

“Nuhh uhh.” Taehyung scooted forward, pushing you backward until your back hit the mirror. 

You leaned against the mirror for support as your orgasm ripped through you so violently you would have dropped the camcorder if it weren’t for Taehyung holding it up with you. He kept his eyes focused on you as he licked one final stripe up your lips, cleaning up your arousal until he was the one messy with it all over his face. 

“God, I wish you’d let me record your face when you cum,” Taehyung groaned into the back of his hand as he wiped his mouth. He reached out to take the camera from you and laughed at the way your hands shook. “You have no idea how fucking beautiful you look.”

You should have been upset. Taehyung now had footage of himself eating your pussy. Sure, no one would be able to tell that it was you, but still… That was something very intimate. 

Yet you couldn’t deny the way your heart fluttered when he’d called you his movie star. Hearing “beautiful” come tumbling from his filthy lips wasn’t too bad, either. 

“No chance in hell, creep.” You crossed your arms against your chest to punctuate the statement. You didn’t have a chance to say anything more; Taehyung quickly shut you up with his lips slotted against yours. You allowed him to lick at your mouth and swirled your tongue against his, humming at the taste of yourself on him. 

“Always so difficult.” He tossed the accusation at you as he pulled away. Using his free arm, Taehyung scooped you over his shoulder. “Y’know, the meaner you are to me the more I want to rearrange your guts.” 

You let out a gag as Taehyung tossed you onto the bed, bouncing into place in the middle. “You did not just say that.” Whatever else you wanted to insult him over died on your lips as you watched Taehyung strip. 

“Come on, Director. Take a video. It’ll last longer.” 

He gestured to the camera still recording as he unbuttoned his jeans, his taunting parallel to how harsh you’d been to him at Hoseok’s party. You were mean to him, but only because he could take it. And maybe, just maybe, you had the hots for getting him riled up, just as he did for you. 

It felt unbelievably dirty recording Taehyung as he stood at the end of the bed with his thumb rolling precum around the tip of his cock, but something about it made your pussy flutter to life once again. It didn’t help that he shot the camera a wink as he did one final pump before he was kneeling on the bed in front of you. 

“Turn around,” he commanded, twirling his finger around to direct you. 

“I liked you better when you were crying and begging for me like a good boy.” 

You glowered at him as you turned around. Taehyung’s hand quickly came down to press down your back, forcing your upper body into the mattress and keeping you on your knees. He spread you out as far as he could, the mattress muffling a groan when you felt him hook a finger in your pussy just to make you shake. 

“I can still be a good boy for you like this,” he whispered against your skin as he bent down to kiss along your spine. You shivered in response, biting your tongue to keep in your moans as you felt Taehyung swish his cock around your slickness. “But since you don’t want me documenting your gorgeous face, your fat ass will have to do.” 

Before you could snort another insult towards his disgusting behavior, Taehyung sunk his cock so slowly you could hear the gushing sound when he bottomed out. 

“Fuck, you sound so good, fuck.” Taehyung moaned as he began thrusting into you, each wet slap of his hips colliding with your ass fueling his desire to speed up. 

You twisted around to watch him lift the camcorder to the perfect angle to capture the way your pussy sucked him in with ease, each pullback evidence of how tightly you gripped him. Throwing your dignity to the wind, you decided to play the part. Hooking your legs with his, you ground against him as he thrust into you, forcing your bodies against each other even harder as you established an equal rhythm. 

“Shit, just like that,” Taehyung moaned, removing his hand from your waist and leaning back slightly to let you take over. “Fuck yourself on my cock, baby. Fuck, yes.” 

“Touch me, Tae.” As much as it was a moan, it was most definitely a demand. 

And like the good boy he promised to be, Taehyung quickly brought his free hand around to play with your clit. The stimulation was enough to push you over the edge a second time, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t purposefully scream a little bit louder than necessary just because you were on camera now. If Taehyung knew, he seemed to not care. 

If anything, it made him even more vocal. And maybe he was putting on his own show because instead of releasing inside of you, he quickly pulled out of you to pump his cum all over your ass. 

“Y/N…” Taehyung slowly got up from the bed to get a washcloth to clean you off. You tilted your head to watch him, smug with the satisfaction of seeing that he wobbled a little bit as he walked. Even his hands shook when he worked to clean you up. 

“What?” You sat up once he was done, wincing at the slight ache of your thighs from how hard he’d pounded into you. 

Taehyung sat on the edge of the bed with the dazed look of a man who’d just gotten the soul fucked out of him. “I think I’m in love with you.” 

You snorted, but Taehyung leaned forward to cup your face. 

“I’m so serious right now.” 

“You’re just fucked out.” 

Taehyung pouted, eyebrows deeply creased. “This is post-nut clarity. I know what I’m about.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the seriousness of his expression, especially as he sat with his softening cock and his messy hair, cheeks and lips still pink. It was so unbelievably endearing and you fucking hated it. 

“This isn’t funny, Y/N.” 

All along, your (alleged) goal was to damage Taehyung’s ego. And now that you had the opportunity to, the little creep was tugging at your heartstrings in a way you hadn’t expected at all. 

“You don’t have to love me back,” he said with a sigh. “I just needed to get it off my chest.” 

Reaching for his hair, you tugged Taehyung mid-moan into a slow kiss that meant less about being sexy and more about taking away the stressed look on his face. Your fingers skirted along his jaw, holding him in place as you deepened the kiss. 

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” You kept a hold of his hair even after you broke the kiss. 

“Yes, thank you.” Taehyung grinned and you felt your stomach flutter once again. 

Pulling him close, you pressed your lips against the crook of Taehyung’s neck. The feeling of his strong arms holding you close made you tremble. “You’re lucky I’m into guys who are assholes.”

Maybe it wasn’t the “I love you” someone else would expect, but Taehyung understood you better than you knew.

The Wannabe-Photographer Chronicles (mini-series) Masterlist

all rights reserved © gimmethatagustd on tumblr & ao3

do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work  

@taegiblr @aislinnstanaka @bbtsficrecs @coffeebooksandromantics @confusedbansheee @ekjalxd @fan-ati--c @furryfortae @haliiimede @highly-functioning-mitochondria @jeanjacketjesus @jjkeverlast @jlm-ykhw @jwlmnbt @klitklittredge @koobsessed @lemonadecandycandy @mishahs @miss-jupiter @moonchild1 @moonleeai @nch327 @nonbinary-demonbrat @notbotheredtho @notsooperfect @parkdatjimin @polipiper @reliablemitten @rjsmochii @saweetspoiled @seoul-soul-127 @stillinedwardcullenera @sugarwithtea @unsureofwhathappens @veronawrites @wobblewobble822 @xjoonchildx @yoongukie-ff @yu-justme @taerifin

[spookypete-94]

Take a Picture

Scareactor!GhostxFem!reader

Reader is a professional photographer hired out at a haunted theme park where she catches the eye of one of our favorite masked men.

Inspired by a TikTok I saw that I can not find for the life of me! Will do a part 2 tomorrow if time allows it. Feeling festive :)

Happy Halloween!!

"$1,500."

"For the weekend??" Y/N asked eagerly. After starting her own business, money was tight. Wedding season had slowed down from the change of seasons, and senior pictures would be her next pick-up in the spring.

"For the weekend," the manager of the theme park said before continuing, "if things stay busy and the weather is good, we will ask you back for the next weekend. Does that work?"

"Absolutely!" Y/N said, without any hesitation. Fuck yeah! Was what she wanted to say.

"Great, shift brief starts at 4 PM before the park gets dark. If you want to attend to see how we operate, you are more than welcome."

"I'll be there." Pleasantries were exchanged before the phone was hung up. She felt like she was riding on cloud 9. Gathering her camera equipment, flashes, and extra batteries and a few lenses, nearly skipping out the door to her car. The money would be nice, but how many people get to take pictures at a Halloween event at a theme park for their portfolio as well?

The autumn air was crisp on her skin, the sky bright blue with Toy Story clouds in them. This felt promising for her, and she loved the feeling. She gave up her hated job and moved on to her dream career as her own boss, making her hobby into her life choice.

Pulling into the theme park, she immediately noticed the dark aesthetic, further feeding her anticipation for the next two nights. The black metal gates at the entrance decorated with twinkling purple lights. Seeing what appeared to be a group of workers, she gathered her things and followed them I'm.

"Y/N?" Someone asked as she walked through, assuming it was the person she talked to on the phone.

"Yes," she said, sticking out her hand to shake the other person's

"Thought so with that camera around your neck, come with me, have some information and papers for you to sign before you get started." The woman turned on her heel waiting for y/n to follow.

"My name's Kate. Basically, we want jump scare shots if you can get them and some candids of the actors. We will take your pictures at the end of the night and place a watermark on them. If the customers want to buy them, then they can. Sound good?"

Kate kept walking at a fast pace, heading to what looked like an office.

"Yeah, totally," she nodded.

Once inside, she sat down and signed the proper paperwork.

"Stay out of the actors' way if you can help it. They can get pretty into it and don't want you hurt. Wear this mask," she said, sliding a black and red formal mask to her. "I've already shown them this mask so they understand you're here to photograph, not to be scared. Alright?"

"Got it." She said taking the mask and looking at it. It was flat black with red sparkles outlining it. Black ribbon used to tie it back.

"They should all be in the meeting room, I'll lead you there and then you should be good to go."

Standing up once more, she followed Kate. Heart pounding in her chest, ready to get started.

It was almost like a locker room, men and women scattered through it. Most were in actual costumes that would frighten anyone, fake blood spattered across fabric or skin. Full masks of different creatures on their shoulders.

One of them caught her eye, however. He was shirtless but wearing black pants. Red over his tattooed arms and hands, making it look like he had freshly killed someone. His eyes were brown, like the leaves in the trees right now, the only feature she could see of his face from the skull mask he had on.

Instantly, her breathing hitched. It was like her heart stopped, making her stand still. Awkwardly moving in, realizing that people were watching her move now.

She tried to make herself small, standing in a corner. Listening to who was designated in what area and when everyone would rotate around, trying to pay attention to the map. Her eyes kept wandering over to the large man that was built like a Greek God, finding she wasn't able to control herself. The brown eyes glanced over to her, making her hair stand on end. He caught her staring at him.

"Take a picture. It'll last longer." The voice in his chest rumbled.

She couldn't quite place if he was making a joke about her, or if he was upset with her for staring.

"S-sorry," she stuttered out quietly, turning to face the speaker once more. Shortly after her apology, the meeting was over. He walked past her, shadow looming over, making a chill across her skin.

Kate must have seen their interaction. "Don't mind him. He comes across gruff sometimes but mostly just sticks to himself."

Y/N nodded, readying herself, doing one last check through things ready to get the night started. Tying her mask around her face, she walked out into the main courtyard.

It started off amazing. People come through the gates in waves. Laughing to herself when people were scared by the actors, but then stopping her with them when they wanted their picture taken. It was beautiful to her, even as it was creepy. People were having a good time spiking their adrenaline, and she got to capture it. It made her earlier embarrassing moment go away. She had completely forgotten about it... until it was shift change, and there he stood. Making her stomach feel like it had just rolled.

Underneath his mask, he was smiling. Seeing the fear strike her face. It was what he lived for... but she was untouchable... for now.

She told herself to move past it. Getting paid was important. It didn't stop her. She took her photos of him in awe of his ability to just intimidate his victims, bolting after them, making them run away. His chuckle in his chest made her body heat up in such a way. Heart throbbing at the sight of him.

The night is coming to its end. The clock striking midnight at the park, the bells rolling off in the distance. It was like it signified something to him. She watched his head turn around to her, his eyes wicked. Taking large steps, he approaches, rolling his shoulders in the same manner that he did when he picked his next target. Her eyes were wide, and she turned and tried to run, unable to process what he was doing. He grabbed her arm and pulled him to her, where he then backed her up into the corner of a garden and a doorway. Hands now on either side of her head, all she could do was look up at him and breathe. Even that was hard to do.

"You get your picture, finally sweet girl?" His voice rasped. "Get my good side, did ya? I get to take pictures of you next, right?" He said, taking the camera of her shoulders and lifting it over her head. He snapped a few photos of her before leaning in further, lips now brushing her ear through his mask.

"Would like to take different photos of you...if you're interested." With that, he turned on his heel, walking away now. Just leaving her alone with her thoughts... all she could think was-

And I get to do this again tomorrow.

part 2

Simon Ghost Riley Masterlist

[apocalypse-shuffle]

BLACK NOIR | EARVING (the boys)

────────────────────

────────────────────

“Promotion” (Black Noir x Fem!Reader)

| Being Black Noir’s new handler and him becoming obsessed with you since Mr. Edgar himself assigned you to him.

| SFW, vought employee!reader, (TW: Noir is kind of stalking the Reader, who’s uncomfortable but adapting mostly)

| 1k+ words

“You want me to…what?”

“Be Noir’s new personal handler.” He fans his hands out on the table with a shrug and gives you a disarming smile. “You’ll be expected to parlay direct mission instructions from me, accompany him to said missions and stay with the deployment team. I expect you to give written reports on his performance at the end of every day, active mission or not…”

Your eyes continue to widen as his barrage keeps going. This job would require you to be present for everything short of Noir wiping his ass and even then you’ll be outside the restroom.

Mr. Edgar finishes, gives you an expectant look, and you clear your throat.

“And, what if I don’t want the new position?”

“I don’t see why not.” He shrugs, “I mean unless you don’t think you’re good enough for the promotion. Then I suppose I’ll just have to tell Ashley her recommendation was for naught.”

You laugh.

“No no, that’s fine. There’s no need to tell her anything…” you gulp, watching the man just look back at you before taking a second more to inhale, “…ex-cept that her recommendation payed off.”

He tilts his head and it feels like his eyes are boring through your own, boiling your brain to mush. Your voice is small as you push the rest of your words out in one exhale.

“And that I’ll be starting my new position tomorrow. Sir.”

You stretch a smile across your face and hiss out a sigh of relief as that finally gets the man to respond.

He instantly reanimates, reaching atop his desk to hand you a secure black portfolio made from hard plastic.

“That’s great. I’m glad you decided to take on this new journey, Ms. L/n. May it serve you well. Have a good day.”

You don’t dare drop your smile as you take the offered portfolio and shove it under your arm.

“Right.” You take a moment to mourn the loss of your old job before nodding, “Thank you for the opportunity, Sir. You have a good day as well.”

The older man nods back at you, attention immediately gone back to his computer monitor afterward. You blow out air from your nose and then turn on your heels.

It’s not until you’ve left the board room that it hits you.

“Shit.”

The man had just played you. Goddamn Edgar and his resoluteness. Once he’d decided to “ask” you about the upgrade in position he never intended for it to be an actual request.

You rub your temple and head to the restroom. At least you had the rest of the hours in the day before tackling your new job.

You hunker down in the stall after peeing to look over the papers Mr. Edgar gave you. As you're skimming through a whole lot of shit marked “classified” or “redacted” you have the stray thought to be glad that Translucent’s creep ass wasn’t here to ogle you and be all in your business anymore.

Thank the higher power for small mercies, you suppose.

All the snippets of information you're gathering are kind of baffling. Legal name: Earving (of all things), biological male, six foot two, African-American (that’s fun; may be the reason he took such a liking to you too, not many black people made it to the top floors of Vought after all). You dog-ear a packet about some sort of imaginary animals he sees in his mind before looking over a page about a severe peanut allergy. Hmm.

By the end of the day you’ve nearly gotten all the way through Noir’s portfolio, and you’ve also worked up an itch to get out of your skin that means you’re not working overtime worth a goddamn.

At six o’clock on the dot all of your crap is already quite thoroughly packed, your former workspace - barren thing that it already was due to regulations - was cleaned out and ready for the next poor soul, and you’re in the elevator heading for the sub-level garage.

Dead stare locked onto the floor numbers you become acutely aware of the bags weighing your eyes down.

“Fuck,” you sigh.

Black Noir's Personal Handler.

Despite Mr. Edgar’s clear efforts it was more than a little known open secret that personal handlers rarely got to retire. Madelyn Stillwell’s death might’ve been something none of you dared discuss for fear of either Edgar or - heaven forbid - Homelander catching wind and putting you back in your place, but it was a pattern of the job that you all were well aware of.

Though you’d take Mr. Edgar’s culling over whatever Homelander could possibly come up with.

Something about his blonde, blue-eyed, ass didn’t sit right with your spirit.

Far as PR and wrangling went though, short of maybe Starlight, any wrinkles Black Noir managed to make would be the easiest to smooth out.

Plus, even with you and Noir having some form of a pre-established relationship it was in no way dependent or built upon you being Noir’s emotional epicenter like Madelyn and Homelander’s weird…dynamic was.

You had seen and heard far too much in your years working for Vought to think for a second that there wasn’t something dark and twisted going on with The Seven, but Noir still seemed mellow in comparison to the rest and their constant ego trips and dick measuring.

You had zero clue how letting the fully covered man teach you a few notes to a song at the Christmas party when everyone was drunk off eggnog and watered down booze and sitting with him when he was crying on the floor once led you to this.

Sure the silent man and you had somewhat hit it off - so far as you were one of the few non-supers he didn’t intimidate or just flat out ignore - but to be made so intimately in charge of him seemed like a bit much.

Noir had seemed endlessly patient with you as he played for you and then eventually decided he’d teach you how to play the piano yourself, the sides of your bodies’ shifting incrementally until you were pressed flush to one another in both of yous concentration, so you could really only hope he kept that same levelness with you as his handler.

You bank the corner, work bag and portfolio on the same arm, and fish out your keys so you can unlock your trunk and shove your shit inside.

Hope truly was the name of the game here unfortunately. You could only hope Noir kept up his “good” streak, and that that streak wasn’t just a farce that you were now in charge of covering up. Hope that he didn’t end up getting angry or reckless and making you one of those *redacted* cases with a ‘cause of death, unknown’ attached to your name, because you could do nothing to stop him if he wanted to kill you.

Shiver racking up your spine and turning your blood to static, you snap your trunk closed, turning to leave when—

“—Fucking Christ!”

Eyes gone wide and spit having nearly choked you from your sharp inhalation before your exclamation, you do your best to appear composed as Black Noir himself steps out from a conclave of shadows to stand in front of you.

The Devil, you find yourself thinking. Had he been following you this whole time?

For his part Noir doesn’t move aside from cocking his head to the side.

Steadily, you force calmness onto yourself. Ignoring that your voice is too high when you call his name.

“Black Noir,” you say, trying to seep the professionalism back into your tone while smoothing down the creases in your pantsuit, “surprised to see you here. What can I do for you?”

The smile you offer him feels wonky even as you command the muscles up, but it’s the best you can do with your heart hammering against your chest as if it wants to run off and leave you behind.

For a couple more beats the man doesn’t do more than size you up presumably before finally - as you were weighing the pros and cons of just getting in your car despite his presence - raising a hand to point at your trunk.

You catch on to his meaning fairly quickly, your smile dropping to something more natural whilst you huff a tiny laugh.

“Oh yeah, guess Mr. Edgar must’ve told you. I’m your new handler - you know, if you had one before that is. I don’t…actually know…” you trail off, shifting on your heels when Noir only continues to keep his stillness.

“Mhm,” you mutter, rocking backwards, just staring until finally Noir shifts and there’s suddenly a pad and pen in his hand.

He flips casually to a clear page before starting to write and you’re fairly sure this is the first time he’s ever actually ‘talked’ to you.

Huh.

Not long after does the pad get flipped over and brandished to you. You click your teeth together.

‘Edgar says you’ll do good,’ he scribbles, writing absolute chicken scratch and letters far too large on the medium sized pages, before flipping the pad back to himself and writing some more.

‘Believe in you!’ and a whole bunch of smiley faces is what meets you once he lets you see.

You blink. Noir puts the pad back wherever he had it initially to give you two thumbs up.

You muster a slightly bigger half smile for his efforts.

“Thanks Noir,” you say, words more sincere than you’d been expecting.

A nod and an eternity more of silence and staring is what he gives you in response.

You’re getting ready to shift, to awkwardly relay that you’d like to be getting home soon, when Noir stiffens suddenly - and isn’t that startling, a man so tall and so strapped with sharp explosive deadly things going so alert like that - head tilting like he’s listening for something.

A few seconds go by like that where he doesn’t do anything else and you fight to keep yourself still, smile gone and part of your lip caught firmly between your teeth.

Then Noir’s giving you a nod and leaving just as silently and unseenly as he had come.

You wait another two-three beats before scrambling into your car. The sound of your lock engaging sounds like salvation and the steering wheel feels like a lifeline as you grip it with stiff nearly foreign fingers.

God.

You force a deep breath into your lungs, make sure it comes out more steadily than it came in.

At least Mr. Edgar didn’t dump you onto Homelander’s lap. Something in you shrivels up and dies at the mere prospect. You nod, your hands flexing on the steering wheel.

This was definitely better.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!

This is a semi companion story to “Pandora’s Melody” if you’d like to check that one out as well.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

[daughterofcain-67]

𝒞𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒟𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃: 𝓅𝓉 1

(Dean Winchester x Artist/Bartender!Female Reader)

(𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 2) (𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 3)

��𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You’re an artist that fell in love with a mysterious boy right before college. Then he left without any way to contact him. Decades later you’re an artist/bartender and you’re surprised to see who comes walking through the door.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none that I can think of.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: I have no idea who actually did the cover art for The Prince of Thorns, King of Thorns and Emperor of Thorns by Mark Lawrence, the comic illustrations of the Maximum Ride series by James Patterson, or Cinder by Marissa Meyer. But I loved the artwork for the cover art and illustrations, so they deserve all the credit for their creativity. ((The artwork and references to the books is just to use to build Y/N’s portfolio, I do not own any of the artworks.))

It wasn’t easy being an artist. And it didn’t help that you seemed to be a starving artist at that. Everything seemed to have been done already. You supposed that your creative mind wasn’t as unique as you originally thought it would be.

You had countless sketchbooks in your home, just on one of your many bookshelves, purely dedicated to the sketchbooks you’ve had over the years. You’ve been sketching and drawing for as long as you can remember. You picked up on using water color and oil pastels sometime in high school when you were being experimental with your styles. But over the years you found that your luck expanding on your career was sort of a fifty fifty shot.

When someone hadn’t commissioned you to paint a wall of theirs, or if you weren’t working on a cover for some author - which was also another rare opportunity - You spent your time working at a bar in Wisconsin. It was some way to make some money after all, plus you did get to meet some pretty interesting people.

As for tonight, it was just another Thursday night for you and you were on your break. With that being said, you had your sketchbook out and you were sketching yet again.

Lately, in your personal sketchbook, you would draw the familiar face of a man you used to know. One that probably didn’t even remember your name, but you’d always remember his. You’d always remember his beautiful eyes that reminded you of the green forest, or the way his smile would light up any room he’d step into. You could remember the smell of his leather jacket, or the way that unusual pendant looked a little too good around his neck. You could still remember the sound of his laugh, or the flirtatious little tone and his mischievous smirk. He was a man you knew you could never forget, even after all these years.

“Drawing that mystery man of yours again, Y/N?” A work friend of yours named Danielle asked.

You glanced up at her while she adjusted her glasses and sat in front of you, “He’s no mystery.. just a memory.”

“You know, if you really can’t forget about him then maybe you should look for him.” She suggested and you shook your head.

“That’s not possible. Even when we first met during the summer before my freshman year of college, he was always traveling around with his father. It was a part of his career. And if anything, the guy’s still going it. They always traveled around the country.” You explained and Danielle pouted a little.

“You mean you can’t even track down what business it was? Not even by phone number or anything? Some company they ran.” She said and you rubbed the back of your neck.

“Did he even tell you what kind of business he was a part of?” You shook your head.

“No… he was really secretive and he always told me he didn’t want to freak me out. A part of me wonders if he didn’t trust me. Then after like two weeks together he ghosted me.” You admitted.

“And you’re still obsessing over him? Come on, you’ve really got to let it go. If he was that much of a douche to ghost you and if he didn’t even leave you a way to contact him, then you have got to move on.” Danielle told you and you knew deep down she was right.

You looked down at the picture again of your ‘mystery man’ as Danielle liked to call him. Just as you were about to put the pencil to your paper once more, Danielle’s hand got in the way and she dragged the book across the table and rotated it so she could take a look at your work.

“Okay, this guy can’t actually be real. No one is that attractive.” She said with a chuckle before she looked up at you once more.

“So what did you say his name was again?” She asked as she handed you the sketchbook again.

“Dean… Dean Winchester.”

“Dean… Not a bad name I guess. Better than like Brad or something.” She laughed.

“Any chance that he’s a reader? Maybe he’s seen your cover art on some books.” You shook your head.

“No, he’s not much of a reader. His brother is a reader though so.. maybe? Although who knows if Sam would read any of the books I’ve done the artwork for.” You shrugged, unsure if Sam read any fantasy novels or science fiction.

“His brother’s name is Sam? That’s a little anticlimactic isn’t it? Is it short for something?”

“I don’t think it’s anticlimactic. Simplistic. And no, I don’t think it’s short for anything, but I never really asked Dean about it. Never met Sam.”

“Hey! Y/N! Danielle! Y’all can’t leave me by myself, I just got here!” A second voice said and that was your other friend, Callie. She had a bit of a southern twang in her voice that was definitely different compared to your other coworkers.

You and Danielle both laughed and you got up from your seat. You closed your sketchbook and went back to the back of the bar to put your sketchbook in your backpack. Then you began to resume your shift. The sooner the night was over with, the sooner you could go home and maybe check your emails and see if anyone has reached out to you for any projects.

The next several hours went by and it was closing time at the bar. You walked out of the bar with the two coworkers.

“Have you two heard the news yet about the Nelson’s wife?” Callie asked and you glanced over at her, brow arched upward.

“No. I didn’t even know something happened.” You said.

“Well apparently when Mr. Nelson came home last night, his door was opened up and there were some kind of freaky claw marks on the door. When the boss went inside he saw that his wife’s guts were literally outside of her body. But you wanna know the weird thing of it all?”

“There’s a weird part? Just when I thought things couldn’t get any better!” You asked.

“Ha ha, very funny.” Callie replied, not finding your sarcasm amusing at the moment.

“The weirdest part was that her heart was missing. No weapon was found, no evidence of some kind of fur if it really was an animal attack. The police have searched the place top to bottom to find any clues or evidence of an animal attack. But honestly I’m surprised the bar was even opened tonight.” Callie continued.

“That explains why I hadn’t seen the boss tonight. He must be going through a lot. I couldn’t imagine losing my boyfriend in such a horrific way… and to actually see his wife like that? I can’t imagine.” Danielle said and you frowned a little.

As difficult as it was to learn about the loss of your boss’ wife, you didn’t think that your boss would be missing that much. The Mrs. didn’t exactly have a great reputation after all. She was a bit of the town harlot to put it lightly. It was common knowledge that she had been cheating on her husband for the past three years with several men.

“How is Mr. Nelson taking it?” You asked.

“Well as far as I know he’s been at the sheriff’s office all day for an interrogation. You know how it is, always suspecting the spouse first. I don’t know if he’s actually had the time to really mourn.” Callie replied.

“Well… surely it’s just some freakish accident. It couldn’t possibly happen again. The same animal wouldn’t strike the same town twice, right?” You said.

“I wouldn’t think so.” Callie said.

“Well just incase that animal is still around… make sure you get home safe! Why don’t we create a group text now just to make sure we all get home okay.” Danielle suggested.

“Honestly… that doesn’t sound like a bad idea.” You said and pulled out your phone.

Once the three of you were on the group chat, you split off into your different vehicles to go home. You made it to your apartment and shut the door behind you. You tossed your bag on the couch before you plopped on the furniture, then you reached for the remote and turned on the television.

There wasn’t anything good on TV so you changed the channel to Boomerang and watched some cartoons. They were playing the old episodes of Scooby-Doo and you smiled to yourself. You hadn’t watched this show in years and you felt nostalgic watching it. Then your mind wandered off to the old days. You started to think about the summer with Dean.

You shook your head, deciding that Danielle was right and you really should forget about Dean. It’s been years and you never saw Dean again after the best two weeks of your life. It wasn’t worth thinking about. So you grabbed your computer and checked some emails to see if anyone’s reached out.

Evidently there was an email for some author named Marissa Meyer. She was emailing you to compliment your illustrations for James Patterson’s Maximum Ride comics and for the cover art of some other books. Honestly you were surprised. She was writing to see if you’d be willing to do some cover art for one of her books. She emailed you the plot of whatever story this would be and she said the title she planned was Cinder. It seemed to be an interesting plot so you started typing out the response, letting the author know you’d be willing to make the cover art and that you just needed a deadline for it.

Shortly after you sent the email, you started looking at some inspiration photos on Google and Pinterest and that was when your phone started ringing. When you glanced down, you saw that it was a group call with Danielle and Callie. You smiled and you answered the phone before you lifted the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” You answered.

“Oh good, you answered!” Danielle exclaimed on the other line and you chuckled.

“Don’t worry, no animals have broken in to attack me yet.” You clarified and Callie laughed.

“See, I told you there was nothing for you to worry about. She’s probably getting ready to draw something and you broke her concentration.” Callie said and you hummed a little.

“Haven’t started just yet. Though about water coloring though.” You admitted since it had been a while since you’d used that medium.

“Well next time send a text! That was the whole reason why we made the group chat, remember?” Danielle continued and you grinned.

“Sorry for worrying you. I’m alright, and I’m glad both of you are alright too.” You insisted.

“Are both of you working tomorrow night?” You asked.

“I know I am.” Danielle replied with a little bit of an exasperated sigh.

“I’m not. I’ve got the rest of the week off.” Callie spoke up.

“The whole week? So we’ll see you when, Monday?” You asked.

“Yep. Needed a little me time and what perfect time would that be than having the weekend all to yourself?” She said.

“What about Dylan?” Danielle asked, referring to Callie’s boyfriend.

“He said he was… busy with something.” Callie said.

“You know, Danielle, you and Chris may like this one restaurant on South drive.” Callie said, talking about Danielle’s boyfriend and you felt like the odd one out, not having gone on a date in about three years.

“I’ll let the two of you talk about your boyfriends and your little date ideas.” You said and you were about to hang up before the both of them started talking to you to not hang up.

“Woah woah woah! Why don’t we get you hooked up with someone?” Callie asked.

“Yeah, that would be fun! I mean it’s been a while so what’s the harm in it? We can take you to the bar after work this Saturday night.”

You arched a brow before you looked at your bag that still had the sketchbook with the pictures of Dean in it. You supposed maybe going out this weekend maybe help you get over the memory. Dean was more of a phantom of that summer anyway.

“I suppose that could work. I get off at six. I can get home and get ready by seven or something.” You replied.

“Oh good! Maybe on break tomorrow you and I can go looking for some cute dresses for you to wear!” You cringed at Danielle’s words and you used your free hand to rub the back of your neck.

“Great.” You muttered with nervous laughter.

“Hang on, guys. I have to go. Dylan is calling me.” Callie groaned with some sort of annoyance in her tone and you wondered if everything was alright. However before you asked, she hung up.

“Wonder if she’s alright.” You said since Danielle was on the other line.

“Honestly I think she and Dylan have been in a bit of a rough patch recently. I wouldn’t be surprised if they break up by the end of the month.” She sighed.

“Rough patch? What’s been going on?”

“Well from what Callie’s ranted about, Dylan is developing some trust issues ever since she told him she didn’t want to live together.”

“What? They’ve only been dating for like a month and he wanted to move in?”

“Something like that…”

“Well you’re being awfully gracious for giving them the end of the month to end things. I’ll give them a week and a half if that.” You chuckled.

“You never know. Anyway, it’s getting late. See you tomorrow?” Danielle said.

“I’ll be there.”

Dean rubbed the back of his head as he walked down the stairs. Then he tied the strap of his robe around his waist as he made his way into the library just to see Sam reading a book. Not much of a surprise there. But this time it didn’t seem like it was a research book in his hands.

“Whatcha got there?” Dean asked, hearing his brother hum in response.

“It’s a fantasy series by Mark Lawrence. I’m reading the second one called King of Thorns.” Sam spoke.

“I didn’t exactly take you to be a fantasy ready. Always thought of you as more of a realist.” Dean admitted as he sat down across from his brother before he moved the laptop across the table. Then Dean opened it up so he could see if there was any new cases that sounded like his and Sam’s thing.

“Charlie recommended the book to me. Said that it was pretty good. Like it’s not Lord of the Rings good or Harry Potter good, but she thought it was worth the read nonetheless.” Sam said.

Dean hummed as he looked over at the book again and he caught a glimpse of the front cover, “Cover art’s pretty good.”

“Yeah… Charlie said the artist has done quite a little bit. She’d done the cover art of this trilogy and the illustrations for some sort of comic series based off some YA science fiction books. I think her name is.. oh hang on I think her name might be in the book.” Sam said as he flipped to the back.

“Oh here it is. Cover artist, Y/N L/N.”

Dean’s gaze shot from the book in Sam’s hand to Sam right after he read the name. That was a name he hadn’t heard in years. Felt like centuries really.

“Let me see that. I want to get a better look at the cover.” Dean said and Sam put his bookmark between the pages and handed the book to him.

As Dean looked at the cover, he admired the work. He suddenly began to recall that summer when he was a couple decades younger. Still fresh and when John was still around. He remembered meeting this beautiful girl in Wisconsin. You, in fact.

That was the best two weeks of his entire life. He remembered how great of an artist you were, how much he loved looking through the sketchbooks you showed him. He remembered you telling him way back when that you wanted to be an artist. Seems like you’ve come quite a ways if you’ve done some illustrations and some book covers.

“Has this artist done anything else?” Dean asked curiously.

“Since when were you interested in art?” Sam asked with a smirk as he leaned in, his arms folded in front of him on the table. Then the look of realization went across his face.

“Wait… Y/N. Isn’t that the girl from-“

“Wisconsin? Yeah.” Dean said and he chuckled.

“Honestly the best summer I’ve ever had.” Dean admitted.

“Why didn’t you ever go back to visit her? Is she a hunter? Maybe she could help us on some hunt sometime.” Sam said, trying to be encouraging but Dean shook his head a little.

“No, she wasn’t a hunter. In fact she was far from it. When I met her, she hadn’t even started college yet. Just graduated high school. She had no idea of the darkness in the world that we deal with and well… I wanted to spare her from it.” He said.

“Sounds like you had it bad. Dad wondered why it took you two weeks to end the case. He said it was awful long for you.” Sam smirked.

“Honestly, yeah. I did. if I wasn’t a hunter, I might have stayed. Maybe even go to summer school or work as a mechanic there to make a living just to stick around while she was on her campus. She was a sweet girl but I knew if I stayed, monsters would come and I didn’t want her exposed to that kind of shit just because I stayed around. I finished the case in a week but I stayed the extra week before I had to decide to move on.” Dean continued.

“Do you ever regret it?” Sam asked.

“Honestly, I don’t think she would even remember me.” Dean replied and handed the book to Sam yet again. Sam took it and set it down on the table beside him.

“I think she’d remember… anyway, as far as I know she’s just illustrated for that series and the covers for this series.” Sam said but he pulled out his phone to search your name.

“Here’s something… She’s painted some walls in the local elementary school building as well as a pediatrician’s office. But honestly I think that’s the only commissions she’s had. Other than that, based off her social media she’s just working in a bar.”

“A bartender? A girl of her talent should be working for some comic company. Maybe even character designing for some animation studio.” Dean said with a bit of surprise.

“Well, sometimes people aren’t always that lucky in life. But I agree with you, she is good.” Sam sighed as he closed out his phone before putting it back in his pocket. Then he turned his attention back to Dean who was looking back at the computer screen in front of him.

“Find anything worth while?” He asked his older brother.

“Well speaking of Wisconsin…. Turns out some bar owner’s wife was found dead. Police are calling it an animal attack but there wasn’t any evidence of an animal left behind. Then again there wasn’t exactly any evidence of humans either because apparently, intestines were outside the poor woman’s body and her heart was missing.” He said.

“So… werewolf maybe?” Sam suggested.

“That’s my first thought. We might as well head that way and check it out for ourselves.” Dean said and Sam nodded before Dean decided to get up so he could take a shower and get dressed before going on the hunt.

When Dean made it into his room, he decided that’s before he’d get dressed he’d look for something.

Honestly he wasn’t even sure if he still had this amongst his memorabilia. He didn’t exactly carry ugh outside of his pictures of his parents, Bobby and Sam and himself when they were younger. But when Dean opened up the auto man at the end of his bed and started looking through old pictures and papers, he moved his father’s journal to the side and then he found a black folder.

Dean let out a breath of relief as he pulled the black folder out and he sat down on the bed. The field was made of paper and it was a bit worn with the years of being moved around since they went from motel to motel a lot. Then Dean opened up the folder and he was pleasantly surprised to find that what he was looking for was still inside.

Inside of the folder there was a sheet of sketch paper with a drawing of both you and him on it. It was an old picture, Dean’s hair was longer and he didn’t quite have bags under his yees from the years of losing sleep because of a hunt. Then there was you, and you were even more gorgeous in person. Your talented hand didn’t give you justice on paper.

In the picture, you were wrapped up in his arms while the two of you sat down on a blanket in the grass. Both of you had a peaceful expression as you looked out at the lake. Dean could still remember the way you felt in his arms, remembering the moment you had drawn in the picture. It was the second to the last night that he spent in Wisconsin.

Dean smiled at the memory, knowing that even after so many years you still had a piece of his heart. But then reality started to get to him and he wondered if you had been married after college graduation. Did you have a family of your own? Dean calculated and by this time you had to be in your mid thirties like he was, right? Most people were arrived by then if they were lucky, and any man would be lucky to have someone so special like you.

Honestly Dean couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you still thought about him once in a while. Maybe late at night when you were watching a movie drinking some wine and drawing one of those covers Sam showed him, he wondered if you thought about him.

Dean put the picture back into the folder and placed it on the night table beside his bed before he grabbed his bag and some clothes to pack up. Then he got his other pair of jeans and a shirt to wear before he headed off to the shower.

Two days had gone by and that was the night you were supposed to go out with Danielle and Callie to some sort of club or whatever. Honestly you weren’t sure if dancing was your thing. You weren’t in your twenties anymore after all but when you were texting Danielle about it all she told you was that it was something to put you out there, give you something fun to look forward to this weekend.

At the moment you weren’t really focused on your little outing that night. You were a little more concerned about the fact that you hadn’t heard from Callie in the last couple of days.

It wasn’t like Callie. She typically texted you and Danielle at least once daily whether she texted some sort of joke or sent a picture of some silly picture first thing in the morning before going about her day and living her life on her days off. But it had been two days and you found it odd that she hadn’t sent any memes, jokes, or even talked about going out that night.

When the door opened you happened to glance up and you saw Danielle running in with a frantic expression across her features. When Danielle made eye contact with you, you realized she was rushing over to the bar to meet you.

“Y/N, have you heard from Callie lately? I saw her boyfriend this morning and he was out at some diner and he acted like he was just fine while he was sitting beside some girl.” She rambled, catching you off guard with how fast she was talking.

“What? No I haven’t, wait he was with another girl?” You asked.

“Yeah and you wanna know what else? I heard Nelson was visited by two guys in suits. I think the FBI is looking into it. Maybe they caught a glimpse of something with Nelson’s wife and they’re looking into it.”

“But the cops already talked to Nelson. That was the whole point of him not stopping by the bar at all like two days ago. Why would the FBI need to talk to him again? Poor guy’s already been through enough.” You said.

“Well, honestly I don’t think Nelson minds. I bet he’s a little glad he doesn’t have to deal with the constant heartbreak of his wife bumping ugliest with different men every other night.”

“Oh come on, that’s a little bit of an exaggeration.” You tried to give the former Mrs. Nelson the benefit of the doubt.

“Would you really be surprised if it was that often though?” Danielle smirked, you rolled your eyes a little before you started putting some of the clean glasses away to prepare for customers.

“Do you think the FBI will come here to see if we know anything? You know the manager’s out of town this week. What do we tell them if they happen to come in?” Danielle asked, starting to get a little worried, not much to your surprise.

“Danielle, breathe. If they come in and you spot them, just send them to me. I’ve got it covered. Not that they’ll ask anything we have any knowledge about anyway.” You said and Danielle took a deep breath before exhaling and nodding.

“I’m still worried about Callie.” She said.

“Well think about it… if you and your boyfriend broke up, are you going to want to spend a lot of time on your phone for the first couple of days? Or are you going to want to sleep and isolate for a while before you start making public appearances again.” You reasoned.

“I don’t know…”

“I’ll tell you what. After we clock out tonight, we can go over to Callie’s house and check up on her and make sure she’s alright.” You insisted.

“Okay… yeah that sounds like a plan.”

“Now… why don’t you go ahead and clock in and we can get the show on the road. They may not even come at all, and Callie will more than definitely be alright.” You insisted and Danielle nodded.

With that being said the two of you got to work. You were busily serving different customers at the bar with different drinks. Some you were used to making but apparently there were some visitors and they wanted something fancy. Two preppy looking guys had just walked through the door and made themselves comfortable at the bar. They looked like they were the country club type of guys.

“Hey, Miss! Can I get a Boulevardier cocktail over here?” One of them said. He had waved ginger hair and he was wearing a blue golf shirt.

“Yeah and I’ll have Vieux Carre cocktail, Darlin.” The other said. He was blond, hair parted to the side and he wore an orange golf shirt with white stripes.

These people must’ve had the worst taste in clothing, and an even worse taste in drinks. You couldn’t even try and pronounce these things and you weren’t even sure if you had the right ingredients for these stupid sounding drinks.

“Sure. I’ll get right on that for you fellas.” You replied and went to the back to get the glasses. Then you pulled out the phone to see what the heck those drinks were. Luckily for you, you had some similar ingredients, but you weren’t working in a fancy bar so you had some pretty basic drinks, they’ll just have to deal with generic.

You grabbed what you needed and started to make the drinks and you thought you heard Danielle’s voice followed by two gruff sounding voices. Yay, more customers.

You were too focused on making the drinks but that was when Danielle started walking towards the bar with the two men she was talking to.

“Y/N? I’ve got a couple of agents that would like to speak with you.” Danielle called.

When you glanced over you saw a familiar green pair of eyes, the ones that you’ve drawn numerous times. They’ve changed though, like they’ve seen so much more. But seeing Dean there… it was like everything in your world stopped and you accidentally dropped the glasses you needed.

The sound of the glass shattering on the floor snapped you out of it.

You immediately started looking for a broom but Danielle started rushing over to help you, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll get it for you. What did these guys order?”

“Thank you… Some cocktails with fancy names. I’ll send you the recipes.” You said as you wiped your hands on the apron.

“You okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” She said and you nodded a little.

“Yeah, I’m okay… I’ll tell you later.” You told her, not wanting to be wrong if your suspicions are correct.

You nibbled on your bottom lip softly before letting it go and you walked over to the two federal agents.

Dean was straightening up his tie uncomfortably. All these years later and he still hated these damned monkey suits but then he felt Sam nudge his arm and when Dean looked up, he could feel his breath taken away.

No, it couldn’t be you could it?

You looked so beautiful, time seemed to have done wonders for you and Dean almost found it hard to breathe at the sight of you.

Of all the towns this case had to take place in, it just had to be the one you lived in. Have you heard anything about the case? You didn’t know about all the ugliness out there yet, did you?

“My friend said you wanted to speak with me? How can I help you?”

God your voice brought back so many memories, but Dean couldn’t dwell on them. Besides, you probably forgot about him so what was the point? Still… it was eating at his mind.

“Um… yeah… Agent Peart, could you get us a couple of drinks and maybe talk to one of the other bartenders?” Dean said.

Sam looked over and raised a brow skeptically. Dean was lucky Sam didn’t really question it and the younger Winchester walked off, giving Dean the time to be alone with you.

“So Ms… L/N, right?” Dean asked, almost hesitant.

But he watched the corner of your lips turn upward into a smile, “Yes, Agent Winchester.”

Dean couldn’t help but smile at the fact that you did remember him after all.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d recall…”

“Dean, it may have been a few years since that summer but I’m not old enough for dementia.” You joked.

Dean couldn’t help but laugh a little and the two of you found a place to sit at the bar table. It’s been so long since he’s been this close to you and it felt just like it did before.

“So how’ve you been? How’s your father and the business?” You asked, Dean remembered that he never told you the exact truth. You had a lot to catch up on he supposed.

“Dad um… well he passed several years ago. About five years after that summer, actually.” Dean said and he watched the way you began to frown.

“I’m sorry to hear that… I remember how you used to talk about him and how close you were.” You told him and he gave a bittersweet smile.

“Things well.. they changed in the five years after. A lot did actually. But my brother and I actually take care of the family business.” He told you and you lifted a brow.

“If you’re an agent now, how do you have the time for a traveling business?” You asked and he felt his palms get clammy, knowing that might be a difficult thing to answer.

“Um… well… Agents like me and Peart aren’t always in one place, so I still travel a lot anyway and when I’m off duty I handle the business as much as I can.” He tried to explain in the most believable way possible.

“You never did tell me what kind of business your dad started. I was always so curious.” You said and Dean wished he could tell you the truth.

“Actually… I need to ask you a few questions. I’m sort of on a case and I don’t really have a whole lot of time to catch up this time around.” He admitted softly.

Dean felt his heart sank at the way your shoulders seemed to slump a little before you looked down at your glass of brandy. He wished he could spend as much time with you as possible, but he couldn’t afford to lose anymore people. People have already lost their lives because of him and he couldn’t afford to do that to you too. He couldn’t handle it.

“What is it you want to know, Agent?”

The switch to the professionalism in your tone pierced Dean through the heart. Maybe he should have asked Sam to keep him some company after all, but from the looks of it he was busy interviewing someone else and writing notes down like the nerd he was.

“The owner… did you have many interactions with his wife?” He asked and he watched you shake your head.

“No. Too busy working. Plus she seldom came here anyway. She was more of a promiscuous woman than anything else. Nelson knew that better than anyone else.” You sighed.

“Nelson.. do you think he’d ever want to take revenge on his wife or pay someone to do it?” Dean asked, making this seem like routine questions - in a way they were still important for a hunter’s case. Who knows, maybe Nelson could he the werewolf he was looking for.

“And risk losing the bar because he’s in jail? No. He was hurt by his wife’s actions, yeah. But for a while they tried to work on it, but then they separated for a month. After that they started living together again before the affairs started up again. And from the looks of it he didn’t have the time to deal with his adulterous wife if she wasn’t willing to change. But there were rumors of a divorce.”

“Do you think Nelson had any enemies? Someone that wanted to get to him through the Mrs?” Dean asked.

“Look, Dean. I don’t keep tabs on my boss and his wife. I don’t care about that kind of thing. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have customers to serve and you have a murder to solve. Don’t let me keep you.” You said and abruptly stood up and walked away to get back to work.

Dean rubbed his face before pinching the bridge of his nose, “Well that looks like it was a disaster.”

Dean heard the sound of his brother’s voice and he rolled his eyes a little before he got up.

“Let’s get out of here and compare notes…”

“You okay, Man?”

“I’m fine, Sam. Let’s just go.” Dean stated and he pushed his chair in before they walked out of the door after putting some cash on the table top for the drinks.

Once the two of them got into the car, Dean started the Impala and when he was pulling out he started to drive to the hotel, then Sam started to talk again.

“So why were you so in a rush to leave? What the hell happened back there?” Sam asked, causing Dean to grimace a little but he knew his brother wouldn’t let it go until he knew what was going on.

“You remember the girl we were talking about? The cover artist?” He said and Sam nodded.

“Wait, that was Y/N? Why don’t we go back? You two can catch up! It’s just a werewolf case, a milk run. I can handle this and give you time with her.” Sam said; and as much as Dean appreciated the willingness, he knew his chances were probably gone.

“Oh no… what did you do?” Sam asked when Dean went quiet.

“Why is it always something that I did?” Dean asked and Sam scoffed.

“Because, Dean. As smooth as you are with women you’ll never see again, you always screw up with the ones that matter and you let them go. Why are you trying to let this one go?”

“Because I can’t have what happened to Jo and Lisa happen to her. Even though Jo was a hunter, she still got killed! Lisa didn’t have experience with hunting, never wanted anything to do with it, and she just got in trouble just by knowing me.” Dean said sternly, beginning to speed because he wasn’t exactly focused on the road.

“Dean! Slow down! We aren’t on a roller coaster!”

Dean heard his brother’s panicky voice and he eased on the gas and tried to focus on what he was doing and eventually they made it to the hotel. Luckily there weren’t any cops on the road so he didn’t get pulled over or anything on the way. But he turned off the car and Sam cleared his throat a little.

“Sam, I don’t want advice on this one. It’s better to just let this one go.”

“Dean, come on. I know for a fact you still have that picture she drew for you. And you said it yourself, that was the best summer of your life! You deserve to experience that kind of happiness again. Especially since things seem to be so calm right now. No angelic wars, no apocalypses, things are quiet and you deserve a break.”

Dean was still quiet.

“And you still aren’t going to tell me what down at the bar, are you?”

With a grunt, Dean stepped out of the car and started making his way up the stairs to get to their designated room.

Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373 @nancymcl @jackles010378 @hobby27 @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @blackcherrywhiskey @prettyinplaid94 @globetrotter28 @suckitands33

[vilevampirez]

long list of funny things abt my experience doing emote commissions for mike

first of all I wasn't expecting to get commissioned at all (my commissions weren't even open, I just made an exception for mike) let alone by MIKETHELINK of all fucking people, so I had nothing prepared. I had no portfolio, commission sheet, nothing. I had never made any twitch emotes, so I had no examples to show either. meaning that when barbmine showed up in my dms asking if I took emote commissions, first I lost my fucking shit, then I panicked and rushed to find the most recent emote-like illustrations I had, including animation, and the most recent animation I had on hand happened to be a viewtiful joe one lmao. the animation in question 👇

(the usernames on the watermark aren't even accurate anymore..)

I have some experience taking commissions but they'd always been for friends of mine, this was my first time getting commissioned by a real "client" and the client was fucking mikethelink tazercraft of all fucking people . I know he "found" me through Mine, she sent me a dm first asking for commission info, saying she would show it to mike later. the thing is that when she said that she also implied that she was in touch with other artists too, so I was like "oh ok I'll send my stuff but I probably won't get chosen lol" and then a few hours later I got two twitter notifs, one saying that mr. thelink tazercraft was now following me and another was his DM. to say I almost had a heart attack would be an understatement

later I found out Mine had made a tweet asking for artists to reach out/people to rec artists for mike's twitch emotes. that post had around 40 comments. many people had been recommended more than once. I wasn't mentioned by anyone once, and in fact, I had no fucking idea that post even EXISTED until way after the fact. I have no idea how I ended up getting this job

mike happened to contact me on a day where I was severely sleep deprived. our entire business conversation took place while I was half-panicking, half-almost-passing-out. I don't know how I survived

at many points during our conversation I gave a lot of leeway for mike to give up on commissioning me, implying multiple times that he would be better off commissioning a different artist. and it's not because I lacked confidence (though a bit of that too, of course), but because of my lack of experience. I was very open about that to him, so many times I expected him to second guess his decision to commission me. unexpectedly, he was really insistent. I think partially he didn't want to go through the trouble of finding and contacting a different artist, but also I guess he just liked my art that much (??!?)

I definitely undercharged him lol. it's not that I don't value my work, it's just that I was absolutely not prepared for any of this shit to happen and didn't have enough time to think

I use adobe after effects for animating mike's emotes. I already knew how to animate (though I had never animated anything big), but I had never used after effects before. I even told mike this before accepting the commission, but he just said it was easy and I could totally do it, and I was just like "fucking hell. fine". and look, I know my limits, I knew I'd be able to learn after effects with relative ease. if I thought it'be too much for me to handle, I wouldn't have accepted the commission. it just that to this day I'm still shocked that mike commissioned an artist who HAD NEVER USED THE TOOL NECESSARY FOR THE COMMISSION HE WANTED.

due to the point above I was pretty apprehensive about animating the emotes, but now I'm glad I got this opportunity bc it reignited my passion for animation that had been dwindling for a long time and I've been learning a lot while working. also with every new emote I figure out how to use a different feature of after effects and it makes the job a little bit easier

before giving my payment information I came out to him to avoid confusion with my legal name being different from the name on my socials. he was very chill about it and always used the right name and pronouns for me whenever he mentions me on stream

fun fact: I was reached out to by another big (brazilian, not in qsmp) youtuber for a commission but I had to refuse because I had too much on my plate already (still do..)

my favorite emotes are the devil one and the nerd one

I made his twitch avatar and banner too! I'm really proud of the avatar. the banner was absolute hell

I'm a lurker (and nowadays a vod watcher since I've been busy w/ uni work) but I do watch every single one of mike's streams, so just know that I'm always seeing you guys use the emotes :3

[korizzybee]

Hii i have a request for Grover underwood (he is my fav) and the request is basically him with a daughter of apollo. And they are sucha sunshine couple but the reader is definitely dramatic and after years of liking eachother they start to dance and yk kiss and confession. (Also maybe percabeth literally loosing their shit bc they already act like an couple bit they. are. not and mayyybeeeee the reader is mean to everyone but him?) oh and female reader please 😊😊 thank you so much i hope you have a great day❤️❤️❤️

“Ugh, Finally!”

Pairing: Grover Underwood x Black!fem!reader

Synopsis: after years of dancing around each other, they both finally gain the confidence to confess.

Warnings: none, y/n is daughter of Apollo, implied bisexual y/n, this takes place post-HoO

You have been at Camp Half-Blood for seven years now, but never in those seven years have you once gained the confidence to confess your feelings to your long-term crush, Grover Underwood.

It’s been a year since Gaea was defeated and summer was coming to an end. You’d be leaving for college in New Rome with Annabeth and Percy. You’d said your goodbyes to your siblings, a ton of them were crying and begging for you to stay just a while longer.

Will had to scold them for you, making you chuckle. Though, before you leave, Chiron decided to host a party in honor of the first demigods at Camp Half-Blood to be going to college in New Rome.

You were dressed in a long and elegant golden satin, your h/c curls pulled into a tight bun. Will was currently doing your make up, his focused face was just the most adorable thing to you. (Not that you’d ever admit it to him). “And done.” He said, putting everything away in your small make up bag.

“You look so beautiful, Y/N.” Annabeth said, she was getting herself ready in the Apollo Cabin. She wore a long dark red glittery dress and her black hair was done in goddess braids. “Thanks, Annabeth.” You said to your best friend. “Trying to look good for Grover I see.” She teased, making you roll your eyes at the girl.

“Whatever, shut up, I didn’t get all dressed up for him.” You said to her. Though, the thought of him seeing you in something like this made your heart race. “What about you getting all dressed up for Fish-for-Brains?” You teased, you watched her face flush slightly. You laughed at her reaction, shaking your head slightly.

The party was held by the lake, as you and Annabeth arrived there, the scenery left both of you breathless. The nymphs had done an amazing job at decorating and cooking. There were streamers and fairy lights shining soft colors hanging from around the nearby trees, a group of water nymphs were in charge of the music. And you saw Juniper handing out drinks to people.

You saw Percy talking with Connor Stoll. “Look,” you tapped Annabeth on her shoulder. “There’s Percy, let’s go over to him.” You said to the slightly shorter girl, pulling her softly by her arm. Connor noticed the two of you walking over and tapped Percy. As he turned around, the boy’s face went as red as Annabeth’s dress.

You gave Annabeth a smirk, even though they’d been dating for years, Percy still acted like a giddy middle schooler when it came to her. “Annabeth, hey, you uh- you look amazing.” Percy said, trying to find the words that best complimented the girl’s attire. “Thanks Percy, you look nice too.”

You went and stood beside Connor Stoll who gave you an amused smile. “You picked that dress out for her, didn’t you?” He asked you. “I did, Annabeth was never really the type of girl to be into all that glitz and glam. So, when she came to me asking for help, I decided to give it to her. Only, under the condition she’d help me with my senior portfolio.”

You said to the younger boy with a smile, crossing your arms over your chest. He let out a chuckle, “yep, that sounds like something you would do. Anyways, you have a good eye for fashion, you look nice.” He said to you. “Thanks, you do too, I suppose.” You said to him. “You wouldn’t have seen Grover around, have you?” You asked him.

Connor smirked at your question, which made you sigh in annoyance. “Don’t look at me like that, because I know exactly what you’re thinking.” You said to him. “Out of all the people here at camp, I never expected you to fall for someone like Grover. Not judging, but I always imagined you with someone like Clarisse or any Ares kid. Your personalities just match more.”

You pretended to gag. “Ew, what? Clarisse La Rue? There’s no way in hell I’d be caught dating that crazy girl. She’s too obsessed with pleasing her dad and being the best fighter at camp to understand how to love someone. Don’t get me wrong, she’s very attractive and I would date her, just under different circumstances.”

“When you say ‘different circumstances’ do you mean if you weren’t practically in love with Grover?” He asked you with teasing smile, nudging your arm slightly. You rolled your eyes at the shorter boy. “This right here is why you don’t have a girlfriend.” You said to him. “I’ll go find Grover on my own.” You said, walking away. “It’s not like you have a boyfriend or girlfriend either!” Conner Stoll yelled out to you as you widened the distance between you two.

You’d been searching for Grover for an hour now, and no one had seen him around. Sure, parties were never really his thing, but you thought if he wasn’t coming to see you, he’d at least come to see his best friends, Percy and Annabeth. You were starting to give up hope on seeing him at all tonight.

You walked through a secluded part of the forest, softly humming to yourself, now holding your heels in your hands. You’d never been a nature person until Grover, at first you only pretended to be interested in it to have something in common with him. Over time though, you started to genuinely enjoy it yourself, often walking through this part of camp to clear your mind when stressed.

You caught a soft light in the corner of your eyes and decided to walk towards it. Your footsteps quiet as you went to inspect whatever it was. Your eyes widened as you saw Grover sitting on a log, a small lamp beside him. You forgot satyrs tended to have great hearing as Grover turned around to face you. “Y/N?” He said.

“Grover…hey.” You said quietly, walking over and sitting next to him. “Hey.” He said back. He was wearing a dark green suit, his brown skin and dark curly hair glowed softly in the light. ‘So he was at the party, I must’ve just not noticed him then.’ You thought to yourself. “Why are you out here by yourself?” You asked the boy. He smiled at you.

“You know parties have never really been my thing, I mainly came because Percy asked me to.” He said truthfully. “Oh.” You said, a slight pang in your chest. ‘So he didn’t come to see me.’ “I also came to see you too.” He said, looking at you with his usual smile. “Oh.” You said once more, your cheeks slightly burning.

“Sorry, I had too overwhelmed with the setting before I could actually see you, so I came out here to calm down.” He said apologetically. “It’s okay, Grover, I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable there waiting on me anyways.” You told him. “Thanks.” He said. There were a couple beats of silence before Grover broke it.

“Sooo..college huh? And in New Rome as well.” Grover said, a bit awkwardly. “Yep, I’m also going to help Reyna find a new augur for Camp Jupiter since Octavian’s gone now.” You said, playing with your hands in your lap. “I guess while I’m gone, you’ll be bringing more kids into camp, right?” You asked, even though you already knew the answer.

He nodded. “Yea, I wish I could come with you, Percy, and Annabeth though.” You smiled and looked down at your hands. “I wish you could too. I mean, we’ve always just been a little group, the four of us. So now it feels weird not having you there with us.” You told him. “Yea, I feel the same way, it’s going to be weird not stopping you and Percy’s arguments anymore.”

“Y/N/Grover I-“ you both spoke at the same time, turning towards each other. “You can go first.” You both said in unison again. You then sighed in annoyance. “How about I go first?” You offered. Grover nodded in agreement. “We leave tomorrow morning and..I didn’t want to leave without telling you how I feel about you, Grover.” You said softly.

“Grover, I love you, I’ve liked you ever since you helped me with my chores in the strawberry fields. You’re also kindhearted and easy to talk to, I feel like I don’t have to have a constant wall up around you, guarding my feelings.” You told him. You felt his hand touch yours.

“I like you too, Y/N, ever since I saw you stand up to Ares alongside Percy.” He said with a smile. “You’re so much more different than me, yet it feels so right to be with you. Your fiery personality and your passion for being a great fighter are what makes you, you, and I love it. I’m glad to have been by your side these past seven years.” He told you. “I’m sorry I wasn’t with you during the party.”

You turned your head towards the lights in the distance, you still hear the faint music from it. You stood up and brushed off your dress, holding your hand out for him. “Well, we don’t need to be at a big celebration party with all the other campers. We can have one right here, just you and me.” You said as he grabbed your hand and you helped him up.

Grover placed his hands on your waist and you wrapped your arms around his neck. You both swayed slowly to the faint music in the background. “Does this make us boyfriend and girlfriend now?” He asked you. You laughed softly as his question and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Yes, Grover, yes it does.”

Your moment was cut short by a certain black haired girl and blonde boy standing by the trees. “Ugh, finally!” Annabeth said as Percy chuckled at her side, a hand on her shoulder. “Go away you guys!” You yelled at them, Grover laughed, feeling slightly embarrassed.