#what do you mean I sketched these months(?) ago

[bullet-prooflove]

Right Place, Right Time - Nick Torres x Reader

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond @brownskinbaby22 @kgkslgohogkdlslgk @divergent146 @delightfulbelieverwerewolf @kotlclover2021 @lapricot @stxrryswvrld @whateversomethingbruh

References to Where Evil Grew and Companion piece to Red Rag

You’re working alone in the basement when Nick finds you. It’s gone past eight pm and you’re standing in front of the large glass workspace you sometimes use as a conference table, sorting through decades old, blurry crime scene photographs. You’re trying to match them against the half assed A1 crime scene sketch that you’ve blown up for the occasion.

The case you’re working is from 92 and requires a lot more time and attention than you originally thought because of the shoddy work undertaken by the previous agents.

You’ve stayed late tonight because it’s quieter in the evenings, less interruptions. Being the Senior Field Agent means you’re a conduit of information for the younger agents trying to make their bones down here. It can be both time consuming and frustrating.

“I thought you were out on an op tonight?” You murmur, tilting the picture in your hands 45 degrees to the right in the hope that it will make more sense.

“About to head out.” He says, his palms coming to rest upon the surface of the table as he studies your process. There’s an art to what you do, how you put the pieces of a puzzle together after so long. You have an affinity for it.

“You slept with Sawyer.” He states quietly.

It takes a second for the words to filter through to your brain, your eyebrows furrow into a frown before you set the glossy image down upon the table.

“I did.” You tell him tipping your head up to meet his gaze.

“Is that all you’re going to say?” He asks you, shrugging his shoulders.

“I’m not sure what you want me to say.” You return, your hands coming to rest upon your hips. “It was over a year ago, we bumped into each other at a bar, had a few drinks…”

You don’t need to say anything else because he knows how it goes. He’s done it before, many times. His brain just can’t comprehend the fact you did it with Sawyer, that he’s only hearing about it now.

“I’m not going to apologise for a one night stand I had, before you and I were even a thing.” You inform him, your attention straying back to your work.

“I don’t expect an apology. I just…” He says tilting his head away as he struggles to find the words. “We were close back then I don’t understand …”

“Do you remember what was going on around then?” You ask him, your knuckles rapping lightly on the glass. He takes a beat, his mind scrolling back eighteen months.

“Katy.” He says softly.

“Yea.” You murmur. “It was a couple of nights after you closed her case.”

Your sister Katy had disappeared off base when you’d recieved your first posting with NCIS. She had taken after your father, heading into the service, raising through the ranks. You’d worked that case unofficially day and night and when you came up dry just like everybody else, you’d become the girl whose sister vanished into thin air. You couldn’t take the pitying looks, the sympathetic words so you’d taken the first undercover assignment that was offered to you, and then the next one, and then the next because becoming someone else was a lot easier than dealing with your reality.

That’s how the two of you met, working UC operations together. When he’d come out of deep cover, you’d been the first one he contacted. You’d gotten out a year earlier, been assigned to Violent Crimes before you made the move to Cold Cases.

Katy’s body had been found early last year along with those of three other sailors. Nick had worked the case, along with the rest of his team. He had been the one to break the news. Until then you had held out this hope, this stupid fragile hope that she’d had enough of the navy life, that she’d spirited herself away to Nashville the way she’d talked about when she was a teenager.

“She had this amazing voice,” You had told him that night, your fingertips tracing over a polaroid you kept on the fridge. “She used to sing Alison Krauss all the time.”

The news had decimated you, it felt like someone had plunged their hands into your chest and torn your heart right out. They’d caught the guy, a serial who’d been operating in the area at the time, but your sister was gone, and you had to come to terms with that.

“I needed to blow off some steam.” You tell him honestly. “With someone who wasn’t complicated.”

“We were complicated.” He says knowingly, coming to lean on the work surface beside of you.

Eighteen months ago he’d been trying to get sober, starting therapy. Gibbs had just left for Alaska, Bishop not long before. He’d experienced too much loss in such a short space of time, it had knocked him off balance.

“We were.” You agree. “I was a mess, I couldn’t…”

You trail off before finding the words, your arm brushing against his.

“I didn’t have anything left to give,” You explain before gesturing between the two of you. “And we deserved a proper shot.”

“Wrong place, wrong time.” He says, capturing your hand, his fingers entwining with yours. “I’d like to think we’re in the right one now.”

“Yea.” You say, your cheek coming to rest on his bicep. “I think so too.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[mooseymi]

A while ago, I thought I might draw all 8 of them but actually I can't count to 8 and then I forgot I was an artist

[starrysharks]

remember that i'm ALIVE but minty isn't unfortunately

[lightbulb-warning]

this is getting ridiculous there's so much stuff i wanna draw i need to clone myself immediately

[the-kipsabian]

OKAY i wanted to talk about this a little cause looking these side by side made me emotional so like

that first one is the first thing i drew this year. early january, i was really happy with that at the time. im not gonna get deeper into that lol

that second one i did yesterday (july 29th)

im. just

roughly almost seven months. look where we are now

like im not saying im perfect or anything, far from it and i fully accept that cause lmao im me, but on my standards at least this is like. fucking leaps and bounds better now than what i thought was my peak months ago

the moral of the story is kids, draw for yourself. keep at it even if you think you suck. try stuff, look at things, learn bits by bits. just draw even if its something nobody else will ever see. just keep at it. thats literally the only way you get better. and even when you hit the point where youre like “thats it, ive peaked” (like seriously ask the squad, ive said that so many times this year with like every piece i crank out lmao), keep fucking going. you can only get better by doing stuff even if you love what you already do (which, btw, disclaimer is fucking great if you do!!), use that as a motivation to get even better

art is a journey. i honestly dont think it can ever be done, theres always gonna be someone who works faster and does things “better” (im using quotations cause thats your vision, just remember everyone is on different levels and skills, its not comparable), has the style you want, does this or that or is more popular, etc... it doesnt matter

be the fucking best you can fucking be. and be fucking proud of the fucking progress that you make

night out

[owliellder]

The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x Painter f! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author Note: You know how each president of the U.S. gets a painting at the end of their term? I'm thinking like that. Plus, my favorite hobby is recreating renaissance art, so I figured this was a good fit (hopefully).

Cross posted onto AO3

Session 1: The Sketches

It was late at night when Leon made his decision to retire fully.

He had gotten home over an hour ago from reviewing mountains of paperwork, most of which pertained to missions that other agents have gone on or will be going on.

Younger agents. More energized agents.

The fact that he hadn't gone on a full mission since San Francisco was driving him up the wall. But that's what he wanted. He requested to hang back the last two years.

Both Chris and Claire had fully retired themselves right after San Fran, Claire being the first to retire to focus on her growing family with Chris following suit only a few months later. Jill was still around, but she was doing similar work that Leon was, only she was in a completely different department which was states away.

Of course Leon still talked with them all as regularly as possible, he'd go insane if he didn't, especially with Claire having a couple kids now. He wasn't the greatest with children, but it was refreshing seeing his friends achieve such normalcy. He wanted them to have the best life they could away from everything.

Having turned 40 a few some months ago, Leon was having a bit of a mid-life crisis. The mission to San Francisco a couple years ago had made him realize just how much toll the job itself had taken on his body. After being assessed and allowed home a few nights after returning from the mission, his body ached; joints creaking, back nearly thrown, just... tired.

Don't get him wrong, he was always tired after missions, but this was different. This wasn't just the regular aches and pains he dealt with after being tossed around like a rag doll, this was age.

Deep in his mind, Leon was still that 21 year old boy in Raccoon City. He never got the chance to properly grieve and move on, his mind forever changed by that event. Mentally, he was stuck there and had been this entire time.

It had taken the man this long to truly recognize the fact that he's older now. He's not that boy from Raccoon City anymore. He hadn't been in a long time.

What was he do to now? Leon had wanted so badly to serve and protect the people, but not like this. Not like he has for the past 29 years.

He spent his most formative years fighting unimaginable horrors, watching people suffer, watching people die. You don't just come back from something like that.

And unlike the friends he's managed to keep close, Leon didn't have someone he trusted. Hell, he barely trusted himself most days.

So now here he was, sitting drunk in his shower with his legs pulled up to his chest, his arms resting atop his knees while the water pelted down on him, silently mulling over everything he's ever seen and done during his time as an agent.

The water had grown cold at this point, Leon having quickly lost track of how long he was sitting spaced out like that for. Thankfully, he'd already cleaned himself before he ended up sitting down, so the hardest part now was just standing back up to get himself back out.

It took him a couple more minutes before he finally hoisted himself up with a tired groan, both his knees popping from being stuck in position for such a lengthy amount of time.

Once out of the shower, towel loosely wrapped around his waist, Leon stared at himself in the mirror; busy studying the crow's feet on both outer corners of his eyes as well as the prominent bags sitting under them, the smile line around his mouth, his now brown hair, the stubble on his face and neck that's he's neglected to shave, and just how exhausted he looked.

How has he never noticed any of this before? Why's he look so different now?

Settling into bed after this brutal realization was a tough task. The man followed his nightly routine of taking four Tylenol and two of his prescription sleep meds before setting his a/c 65 degrees Fahrenheit. He learned quickly many years ago that tossing and turning at night would make him overheat and sweat.

But tonight, nothing Leon did could ease that sinking feeling in his chest, that feeling of unfulfillmemt and shame weighing on him more than ever before.

The poor man barely slept at all last night, hangover evident by the way he was still slightly uneven on his feet as he leaned over the center island in his kitchen, head between his forearms while his hands sat clasped together.

Leon knew what he had to do. He's been feeling it ever since Chris and Claire made their departure, but it was so easy to deny. How was he suppose to give up the one thing that made him important? Sure the stress of his work was heavily tasking on the mind and body, but it's what gave him purpose. He felt useful doing what he did.

The man showed up for work late that day, barely having managed to dress himself. He didn't know exactly who to go to in this scenario, but everyone seemed surprised that the Leon Kennedy would show up for work in some ratty t-shirt and grey sweatpants. The stares were making him incredibly uncomfortable and he was quickly regretting showing up at all.

After sitting in his own office for awhile to avoid the looks and whispers, Leon eventually sauntered over to his superior's office, an almost solemn look on his face as he let himself in after knocking.

Needless to say, Leon was relieved his superior knew this was coming. Slightly offended, but relieved nonetheless.

It had been a long time coming, and it was only a matter of time before Leon threw in the towel, especially since he was now just working behind the scenes instead of on the frontline.

He was allowed to return home for the rest of the day if he wanted to, which Leon quickly took. He really didn't want to be in that building for much longer.

As soon as he returned home he went right back to drinking. And as ashamed as he is to admit, he even cried a little, half empty whiskey bottle in one hand while the other was clenched tightly into a fist as he gripped the pant leg of his sweats.

There wasn't anyone Leon could talk to about this. Chris and Claire had their own respective partners to come home to after retirement, but Leon? Leon had nothing besides a dingy and cold two bedroom house with only the basics inside, including his alcohol cabinet.

The man didn't even give himself time to date, only the occasional one night stand with randoms from the bar. He was too afraid that he would endanger anyone he allowed into his life like that, not to mention he'd been betrayed one too many times to trust in someone that way again. It was his way of keeping himself and everyone else safe.

The therapists he was assigned throughout the years all had the same concern regarding his love life, and deep down Leon was just as concerned, but he rationalized it with that hero complex he developed.

But he just couldn't rationalize it anymore. Leon was alone. He was alone, sad, and afraid.

About a month after Leon's retirement was processed and announced, word spread quickly throughout numerous government branches. There was a celebration set up at the White House to honor his service as a field agent.

The President had separated him and Leon from the party to slowly walk through the many hallways in the building. The old man could tell just how bothered the now ex-agent was by his retirement, so he figured now would be the best time to talk to him about his final task.

"You know," The President spoke up after a couple minutes of the two walking in silence, prompting Leon to slowly turn his head to listen. "I'm sure you've heard it so many times tonight, but you truly were one of the best agents I've ever seen."

Leon chuckled quietly, shaking his head a bit at the compliment. He had heard it a lot tonight, but obviously it was different coming from him.

"I'm serious. This county, probably the entire world, would've been in shambles if not for your hours spent." The President continued, slowing his walking to a stop.

"It means more than you know." Leon responded simply, voice a bit gravelly from the few drinks he's had. He took a couple steps more before stopping as well, turning around to face the prominent old man.

The President sighed, giving him a sympathetic smile while nodding. They stood in silence for a brief moment before the old man spoke up again, pointing lazily down the hall. "Follow me, I've got something I want to show you."

From there, the two wandered further down the halls until eventually reaching one hall that had lights more centered towards the walls, highlighting the picture frames that sat evenly spaced out amongst them.

Leon seemed a tad confused until he was able to focus on the first painting they walked by. He knew each president got a portrait painted after their full term was served, but the man in this painting wasn't a past president.

He stopped walking to stand in front of the painting, admiring the details it had before glancing down at the bottom of the elegant frame, a placard reading a name he didn't recognize. What he did recognize, though, was the word Agent that sat in front of the man's name.

While zoned into the placard, Leon didn't register the gentle hand that had been clasped on his shoulder, the President's voice breaking through his trance. "For as long as there's been bioweapons, we've had agents fighting to stop them. But only a few agents have truly outdone themselves. Agents like you."

Leon blinked a couple times before turning his head to look at the hand on his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed. He wasn't quite understanding what he was saying.

The President took his silence as a cue to continue, his sympathetic smile turning into a happier one as he gently tugged Leon's shoulder to get him to start walking again. "The D.S.O. has produced some of the greatest agents since Benford created it back in 2011. You were amazing before, but you've outdone yourself time and time again."

Leon still wasn't quite understanding, really only half listening as he kept his eyes trained to the numerous portraits of agents as he slowly passed them.

The two stopped in front of the last painting in the hallway, only a few spots away from leading into another hallway. It was Chris and Claire in this painting. Chris was sitting down in a chair while Claire stood next to him, hand resting on back of it, both of them smiling.

He studied the painting for a minute longer before whipping his head around to face the President, who was still smiling, as the realization slowly settling in.

"I-" Leon struggling to speak, glancing back at the painting before quickly looking back at the old man standing next to him.

The President simply nodded his head, smile widening with a gentle laugh. "Right. The painting process takes a bit of time, but I think you've more than earned this."

The ex-agent had so many questions. Firstly, why hadn't Chris or Claire mentioned this? But more importantly, he gets to have his own portrait painted?

"The painter knows all about you. She's excited to meet you." The President started down the hall again, Leon not far behind, still stuttering out nonsense as he attempted to form even a sentence. "I'll give you the information you need to get started with her. I have it written down back in my office."

A painting?

A painting. A painting for him. A painting to honor him. What?

Leon was once again sat on his couch, blankly staring at the small business card with a date and time written on it in pen. He'd read the info on the card so many times already, wanting to make sure he got absolutely nothing wrong.

Apparently he didn't have to call and confirm, all he had to do was show up to this random address at a specific date and time, which was soon. In a couple days kind of soon. Also, he thought he was reading the time wrong, but no, it was four in the morning, not four in the afternoon. What an odd and rather inconvenient time.

Even after memorizing the business card front to back, Leon would be lying if he said he didn't forget about meeting up with this mystery painter. He'd been rather aloof the past couple months, it was hard to pull himself out of that funk. He'd been staying up late and sleeping in even later, so hitting snooze on his alarm a good few times was just muscle memory at this point.

It was almost 5am when he realized where he was suppose to be, eyes shooting open as he yanked himself out of bed, desperately trying to clean himself up enough to be at least presentable.

The man was mentally chastising himself the entire drive. It was a short drive, which he was surprised by, and the building seemed quaint; red brick with large windows that sat on what looked like either a second or third floor.

He parked his bike right near what he assumed was the main door, pulling off his motorcycle helmet before knocking and waiting.

The last thing Leon was expecting was you to unlock and open that door; young and pretty, so pretty...

"Mr. Kennedy?" You asked, eyebrows raised slightly with a small smile. He nodded, just barely noticeable, reaching a gloved hand up to wipe at his eyes as he caught himself staring.

Your smile only widened at his nod, stepping aside to allow him into walk in. It took him a minute to realize you were still talking, shaking his head out to refocus himself.

"-again, really, no need to worry about being late. I was trying to work with your schedule but I should've known it's changed up a bit by now, right?" You lead him up a set of narrow stairs, though he was mostly following the smell of your perfume. It was such a light smell but he definitely picked up on it.

You opened a door immediately to the left of the stairs, letting Leon follow you inside. The sun was just starting to rise, shining through the large windows in the open room.

The place was cluttered, yet organized. Crowded, but that just made it all the cozier to Leon. His house was bare and lacked any sort of personality, but this... this place was covered in you.

"I'm glad you like it in here." You said in a quiet voice, looking up at him as he took in your workspace. He was smiling ever so slightly, which you mimicked with a smile of your own. "I try to make it welcoming in here, my apartment is the same way.."

Your voice trailed off as you walked over to a mostly put together set up near the back of the room where the only wall without windows sat. There was a chair sitting close to the wall, the same chair Chris was sitting in for his portrait with Claire, along with your easel sitting empty a few feet away.

Leon stood frozen, only moving his head around as he took everything in. He followed you with his eyes as you fumbled around with something, eventually producing a blank 24" x 36" canvas that was still wrapped in thin plastic.

His mouth made an 'o' shape as he pulled himself from his small trance once again, beginning to slowly make his way over to the set up you've made. He placed his helmet down on the floor beside the chair.

After placing the canvas on the easel, you walked back over to where you'd gotten the canvas from before grabbing a heavily used sketchbook. It was a large one, the paper a light brown instead of white.

Leon had only just realized that there was a faint sound of some form of classical music playing from somewhere in the room, glancing around for speakers before looking back over at you.

"I'm not getting started today, we're a couple steps away from that, so don't worry about appearance just yet." You said softly with a breathy laugh, quickly making your way back over to where he stood next to the plush chair in your setup, his hand feeling over the worn maroon fabric.

Leon nodded silently, moving to sit down once you requested he did, furrowing his eyebrows as he watched you drag over a small table. You worked fast, that's for sure.

Eventually, you'd set up a little tabletop easel to sit on the table you'd dragged in front of him, grabbing your swivel chair to sit in as you placed your sketchbook on the easel, open to a blank page.

"I just need to get some basic ideas of your facial structure since that's most important when it comes to these kinds of paintings. You're gonna be wearing a nice tuxedo when I do the second- no, third sketch for the final painting, but this is just for me to get a feel for you and vise versa." You rambled quickly, pulling out a pencil from one of your pockets before fully sitting down on the chair, bringing your legs up to sit criss cross.

"Uh.. Alright..." Leon responded, clearing his throat a bit. He didn't really understand what you'd said, you spoke a little too fast for his tired brain to keep up, but it seemed like whatever you were doing was necessary so he just rolled with it.

He was left a little speechless again at how you just began sketching, glancing up to his face and down to the page you were working on over and over. "...do you need me to, I don't know, pose or something?"

The way you kept looking at him was making feel a little uneasy. Granted he's never been in this sort of situation before, this whole process was very unfamiliar to him.

"No, no. You can move your head around and stuff. Get comfortable." You waved off, eyes wrinkling as you smiled at him. Leon nodded again, deciding to take the opportunity to look around your workspace again.

It really was a cozy space. Full of color and life, even the curtains you had lining the windows offered so much pattern and detail to the room. The back of the room where the two of you sat was more cluttered with less decor, but the front of the room was a whole different story with those massive floor pillows, blankets of all sorts strewn about, that big fluffy looking area rug, it was all so... homey. It was even inspiring him to decorate his own house a bit.

The sound of your pencil scribbling on paper and the faint sound of the classical music playing was all Leon could hear for awhile, eventually letting out an anxious sigh before beginning to talk. "So... a painter, huh..?"

"Oh yeah, I've been doing this since I was little. Obviously I wasn't that good back then, but I really improved after high school." You immediately responded, voice a little louder than his. Clearly the topic excites you. "If you want, I can hand you one of my other sketchbooks to look at while I do my thing over here?"

Leon patted his hands against the arms of the chair before nodding to the side, pursing his lips slightly. "Mm, sure. Let's see what ya got.."

As soon as he agreed, you stood up and shuffled over to the corner of the room where some desks sat arranged in a makeshift cubicle. You opened a drawer and pulled out a couple sketchbooks, still as raggedy as the one you were using now.

Walking back over, you carefully handed them to him, which he slowly took after meeting your eyes for a brief moment.

Once you made your way back to your chair, he placed both sketchbooks into his lap, opening up the one on top first. The man flipped through them silently as you began to sketch him out again.

You'd zoned into your work, adding just a bit of shading to your sketches to help emphasis some features when Leon cleared his throat again. You leaned to the side to look at him, your smile quickly returning when you saw his baffled expression.

"These are... wow, okay, how old are you?" Leon asked, head jerking upwards to meet your gaze once more. You just giggled in response, using the pencil as a fidget before returning to sketching.

"Sorry-uh, I don't mean to come off as rude or anything, but to be honest, I was expecting you to be some old lady when I saw the portraits you've done." Leon was quick to try and explain, probably misinterpreting your lack of response for unease.

Your giggle turned to a small laugh, leaning to the side once more to look at the man. "Well, I'm glad I could surprise you a bit. Hopefully I don't look old."

Leon groaned and wiped his hand down his face. "Again, sorry. Didn't mean to imply." He shook his head and looked back down at the two sketchbooks sitting in his lap, continuing to flip through them.

It was only a couple hours until you decided you got a good enough feel for drawing his face. Grabbing the sketchbook, you stood up, pencil still in hand, looking down at the sketches you made as you slowly walked over to him.

The man noticed you standing up, quickly moving to close the sketchbooks you'd given him in favor of seeing your new sketches.

"I... I think this'll be enough today. I don't want to keep you too long." You said, handing him the sketchbook. Leon took it from you, careful not to smudge anything as he finally got to see what you've been doing for the past two hours.

He furrowed his eyebrows as he studied the sketches you'd made of his face, seeing all the different angles, even the smile, how'd you get his smile?

You seemed to grow nervous the longer he stared at your sketchbook in silence, his intense look making it seem as if he didn't really like them. "Are they... Are they okay?"

Leon jostled the sketchbook a bit in his hands before standing up, now towering over you as he kept his eyes on the paper. "Just okay? These are beyond amazing."

You let out a small breath you didn't notice you were holding, heat rushing to your cheeks as you smiled at his compliment. "Oh, thank you.. I'm sorry, normally sketches don't take this long but it was stressed to me that your portrait was very important so I wanted to get everything as perfect as I could.."

"Seriously, you're a mad woman if you think these wouldn't be good." Leon chuckled, handing the sketchbook back to you. He kept his eyes trained on you, even after you turned to look down and close the sketchbook. Only a fool would miss that blush on your cheeks, it looked good on you.

"Anyways, when should I come back for the next.. uh..." Leon paused, crossing his arms loosely as he struggled to think of the word.

Luckily, you finished the sentence for him. "Session. Again, this painting's importance was stressed to me a lot, so probably the next time you're available?" You talked while you shifted the small table back to where it had originally sat under one of the numerous windows, tossing the sketchbook down on the chair cushion.

"Alright, since it's importance has now been stressed to me as well, I can probably clear up some stuff in my schedule. How's tomorrow sound?" Obviously, Leon had a completely free schedule, but you didn't need to know that.

"Tomorrow works great! The sooner the better!" You laughed, placing a gentle hand on his bicep as you walked past him to grab a sticky note. "I'll give you my personal number, just let me know when you're thinking of coming over and I'll meet you here, okay?"

Leon looked at your number before pocketing the note, nodding his head with a smile of his own. "Sounds good. Same way out?" He pointed to the door that you brought him in through, bending down to pick up his motorcycle helmet right after.

You confirmed with a thumbs up, now drinking water from your water bottle as you'd forgotten too while focused on drawing. You felt bad for not offering him any water while he was here, but you won't forget next time.

The man gave you a curt wave before leaving the room, quietly shutting the door behind himself.

You had to admit, you've worked with a very small handful of agents since it takes a lot for them to earn their own portrait, but Leon Kennedy had to be the one of the most handsome men you've ever worked with. Maybe even one of the most handsome men you've ever seen.

Lucky you pay attention to detail, cause you definitely didn't see a ring on his finger.

[fcwoso]

Personal tattoo artist · Mapi León

Summary: Mapi helps reader to overcome her fears but not without a cheeky proposal (fluffy)

MASTERLIST

María has always loved tattoos. It didn't matter if she was the one getting them or someone else, it was something she felt passionate about. She saw the body as a canvas, one that would tell it's own story as time passed by. The drawings and words each represented something, a thought or a feeling. Even if it referred to a miniscule moment. It wasn't a surprise when she announced that, that would be the career path she'd follow when her time as a soccer play would come to an end. On one side it was a scary thought, football is all she has been doing for most of her life.

"Amor (love), come on. You trust me, right?" María pouted as she put her sketchbook down. The book was filled with her creative ideas, she even dedicated a few pages to you. Sketches that reminded her of you, ones that she'd love you to get tatted. The Spanish woman pulled you closer and nuzzled her face in your neck. You could feel her sighing for the umpteenth time this evening, but not before she left a trail of kisses on your warm skin. She wasn't really frustrated, she just loved being a bit dramatic.

The evening started out relaxed. María had training in the morning which meant you two had the rest of the day to spent together. After Googling for a nice place to eat, you decided to go to a restaurant not far from your appartment. Unfortunately once arrived at the place, you stumbled upon a poster that said the place was under reconstruction.

The mood was pretty much killed after that but María came up with the brilliant idea to cook something at home. The muscles in her legs were still aching and all she wanted was to have a nice meal and watch a good show, was what she said. In reality she prefered cuddling on the couch with you. Her muscles were completely fine, she felt great even.

The now empty plates were placed on the glass table in front of the lovers while the tv was still on in the background. "Yes, cariño (honey). Ofcourse i do. It's just that i'm scared i'll regret it." You admitted. A few weeks ago you two went to visit an old friend of hers. That friend is a tattoo artist and offered you to get a tattoo of your choice. You actually had something in mind but backed out last minute. It was this intense fear of regret that kept your mind wondering if it was a good idea to continue, so you didn't.

María's hands found yours as she noticed you were actually worried. It really wasn't that big of a deal, but she didn't want to downplay your emotions. Your thumb grazed over the rose that was displayed on her palm. The rose was her own work, it was a piece she was proud of. And so were you, you were so proud of her courage. The exact courage you were currently missing.

"You know, it's okay to feel that way." María engulfed one hand of yours in hers while the other one travelled to your chin. "I just don't want you to regret not getting it". She softly placed a kiss on your lips and smoothed out the frown between your eyebrows. It's true, it's been a couple of months since you've started talking about this tattoo. Your lips found hers again right after she pulled away, missing her reassuring touch. Her eyes twinkled as she stared at your face, a child-like smile growing on hers.

"Just a reminder, i can do the job as well." María said with raised eyebrows. She wrapped her arms around your waist, you could feel her getting excited at the idea because of the way she was almost restricting your blood flow. "I mean..." You wondered. It's María. Mapi. Your partner in crime. How would you ever be able to regret this tattoo?

She did have the equipment for it, she had the skills as well. "Princesa." María stood up firmly and placed her hands on her sides. "I believe in you." You started giggling, not being able to take her seriously because of the look on her face. "You're lucky you're cute." You said. Eyes following her frame when she made her way out of the living room. She came back with another book, a smaller book than the one she was drawing in earlier.

"What's that?" You asked, curiosity growing bigger by the second. "Oh, this old thing?" Maria huffed and laughed nervously. A few strands of hair were covering her face, she started to scan the pages of the mysterious book. "Escúchame (listen), i have this theory." You couldn't help but laugh at her behaviour, your fingers stroking her short hair back behind her pierced ears. "You should go for something totally different, you don't want to get a tattoo you've had major doubts about."

"Okay, but what does this book have to do with it?" You asked, still not fully understanding the purpose of it. The book was quickly placed in your hands by your lover. The woman next to you started to grow shy under your stare, which is unusual for her, feeling as if she had just exposed one of her biggest secrets. "These are sketches i've never shared with anyone. I'm sure you'll find one that perfectly suits you." María admitted with a soft smile on her face. You couldn't help but pull her closer in your arms, leaving a couple of kisses to the side of her face and on her now slightly red cheeks.

"Thank you." The sincere words were very much appreciated by the footballer. "I'd love to share some other ideas, though." The Spanish woman gained her confidence back in a matter of time. You suddenly found yourself sitting on her lap, legs on each side of her strong body. Her hands wandered around your waist and eventually rested on your thighs that were covered by one of her joggers. "There's this really cool name, something along the lines of Mani, Mapi?" She began. One of her hands moved and rested on your lower back, you quickly understood what she was proposing. "Yeah, there's no way i'm getting a tramp stamp."

[harmonictechnicality]

*based off this awesome art right here by @chocoarts - the sketch on the left in particular :)

It doesn’t take long for Steve to get used to Eddie’s raised-by-wolves levels of affection. The hair chewing and the shoulder nibbles and the freckle licking. It’s never classified normal stuff - definitely not stuff he ever did with dainty Hawkins High girls, that’s for damn sure.

But still, it takes no time to get used to it. Full on expects it, by now. The most notable time that Steve is expecting it is on their one year anniversary.

Two months prior to the Big Day, Eddie's spontaneity and Steve's boredom led to an impulsive stick-and-poke tattoo on Steve's forearm. Eddie wanted to give Steve a simple crown. Told him it was to reclaim the stupid nickname from high school, make it his own.

'Overthrow all the teenaged bullshit. Kick trauma in the metaphorical ass.' Eddie had said after completing it, smiling up at Steve. 'It's what kings do best.'

After that day, Steve decides to add on to his impulsive tattoo and surprise Eddie with it. He gets one small bat, just like the ones on Eddie's arm. Gets it right next to the crown, side-by-side. The same way they all fought together a while back.

As soon as Eddie sees the addition, he tackles Steve, linebacker style. Steve is ready for it, totally braces for the aggressive affection. Fucking loves it. Expects it.

However, Eddie doesn't just stop there. Oh no. He climbs up Steve's body, tightly wrapping his arms around Steve's neck. Wraps his legs around Steve's upper arms even tighter.

Which... how the hell did Eddie get so flexible? And when the hell did Eddie get so flexible? Like, yeah they do some semi-contortionist stuff in the bedroom, mostly when they're hyped up on sugary soft drinks.

But this? This is... new. Wild.

He clutches on to Steve like he's a goddamn tree trunk. Some rare tree species that's in grave danger of being chopped down from the rainforest or whatever. He’s making lots of pleased sounds, singing maybe. Hard to tell for sure.

Steve holds Eddie firmly, hands underneath his thigh, his back, anywhere that he can get a solid grip. Keeps him safe from whatever corporate bulldozer that dares to take down their weirdly amazing love.

"Shit, I'm crazy about you." Eddie nuzzles into Steve's hair. "Like... totally and completely."

Steve laughs, comes out a bit strangled from the way Eddie is clinging to him. "Guessing you like it, huh?"

"Duh." Eddie slides off, connecting their hands on his way down.

"It represents-"

"I know what it represents." Eddie interrupts, his expression softens from the reminder, the difficult topic they're both skipping around. "You don't have to say it."

He does though, Steve has to say it. Needs to say it the same exact way Eddie had said it to him two months ago.

Because yeah, they act tough about what went down that night. But that doesn't mean they should just be stuck in a cycle of Acting Tough. Pretending to be okay all the damn time.

So Steve takes Eddie's arm, the one that's covered with tiny bat silhouettes. He holds their two arms together and carefully brushes over each tattoo design. Tells Eddie to reclaim the stupid scars that litter his body.

"Fight off all the inter-dimensional bullshit. Kick trauma's metaphorical ass." Steve smiles up at Eddie, who suddenly looks serious, focused. "It's what heroes do best."

"Steve." The seriousness is wiped clean off of Eddie's face. It's quickly replaced with a gentle grin. Relief reaching over his furrowed brow. No more worry lines. No more grimace. He looks at ease. Content, maybe.

And as much as Steve enjoys making Eddie feel content, he wants him happier right now. So he switches up the energy, tries to lighten the mood a little. Steve hooks his fingers into Eddie's front pockets, readying to pull him in.

It's predictable, been his go to make-out move any time they're standing up. This is a special fucking day, however, and that calls for a Special Edition Make-Out Move.

So Steve digs each hand deep into Eddie's pockets, wiggles them around a bit. Watches Eddie's cheeks go pink, blotchy red in some places. Steve moves all of the coins and lint and questionable items out of the way, making room.

He takes deep breath, then yanks the seams at the very bottom of each pocket, flipping the material inside out. Sticking straight up from his jeans.

Eddie is all red now, flushed down to his neck. "What the..."

Steve tugs on the flipped out pocket seams, jolting Eddie closer. He lands on Steve's lips, colliding a bit roughly. For a second, they're too busy smiling to kiss properly. But Steve slides his hands up Eddie's chest, around his neck, scratches the tiny hairs on the back of Eddie's head, and that's it. That's all that it takes for them to get lost in the kiss.

Eddie's mouth opens, biting the center of Steve's bottom lip. Breathes out the warmest air as he lets go, returns to a softer approach. Steve licks over the spot, soothes the pulse that Eddie left behind.

"That was... different. " Eddie laughs. He swipes his tongue over Steve's cupids bow, traces an outline until Steve is laughing too.

"Bad different?" Steve asks.

"Not at all." Eddie shakes Steve by the shoulders like he’s nuts for asking such an outrageous question. "Besides, different is right up my alley, babe."

"I'm highly aware."

"Didn't realize I was such a bad influence on your freakier side."

"What can I say?" Steve shrugs, steals one of Eddie’s rings to twirl around his finger. "I'm very easily persuaded."

They head over to the couch, kissing haphazardly as they flop down. Eddie tugs and twists at the fabric of Steve’s shirt, stretching it out. Wrinkling it. Steve couldn’t care less if it gets ruined because Eddie will be the one ruining it.

Eddie sighs into the kiss. Not a sexy sigh either (which are obviously Steve’s favorite of the sighing variety). It sounds more shocked. Disbelief or something.

Steve angles his head away from the kiss to see that Eddie’s eyes are open, wandering all over Steve’s face. It’s pretty cute, seeing Eddie too busy just staring to even shut his eyes mid-kiss. Like his schedule is too jam-packed up with Gawking, has to multitask during their make out sessions now.

"Kinda can’t believe it." Eddie finally says, still staring.

"What?" Steve stares backs. Makes it a staring contest. Doesn't tell Eddie though cause he wants to win.

Eddie motions toward his pockets that are still turned inside out. "After one whole year, you still keep me on my toes with shit like that."

"I do?"

"Sure do. You're something else, babe.”

"I am?" Steve blinks.

Damnit, he lost the one-sided staring contest.

“Yup.” Eddie nods, transitions to chewing on a chunk of Steve’s hair like he always does. Sometimes, he’ll make mooing sounds. Especially after sex, when he’s at his goofiest. Most comfortable.

It’s fucking unreal how Steve has learned all of these quirks. How he waits for them, anticipates them. Every bit feels familiar to him now.

"You're unexpected in all the best ways, Harrington."

Steve tries not to gush at that compliment. It's not one he gets often.

Eddie stops chewing on Steve’s hair to kiss his cheek instead. The kiss is powdery-sweet, miles away from his usual eagerness. Still perfect somehow. Just like the weird stuff is somehow perfect too.

That's kind of who they are together. Weird and unexpected.

In all the best ways.

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

The creator had a :

star eyed child

+ a quick sketch

Wc: 500

Cw: birth process but it's glossed over

With lips tight as a tomb the archons could only stand beside you as your stomach swole and the child kicked you awake during the last month.

“Should I fetch you your tea? The doctor said it would help with the birth” Raiden signals at Nahida to get it from the side table as furina rubs the top of your stomach.

“The doctor should be here soon,” Nahida grabs the freshly brewed tea, the dark liquid swirling around as she urges you to drink.

“Barbatos should be close” and as if zhongli predicted it venti barges in with a bunch of white dressed people.

None of the five archons had any knowledge or experience with birthing or newborn reception; they stayed quiet and still on the seat, a nurse even having to rip furina away from your side.

Now fed up one of the nurses hurries them out, archons be damned if they hinder the patient's attention.

“won't you bunch go for fruit or juice? Yep? Thanks” and without missing a beat she slams the door closed leaving them outside.

14 hours pass by and the doctor and a nurse come out.

“Everything checks good, both of them are healthy and stable so I will take a last look while the nurses finish cleaning the little boy”

Now breathing calmly the five minutes pass quickly until they are allowed in, you are seated on the bed drinking a sugary drink from a straw with the newborn on your chest.

“Want to meet the baby? I'm still unsure about the name” the baby was snuggling to your chest and dressed in a simple long shirt with a few tufts of hair poking out.

“he is very cute” furina exclaims hunched besides the bed, her finger pressing on his cheeks causing the baby to open his eyes, an upset look on them

You laugh a bit at the side eye he was giving them “He is quite grumpy, isn't he?” but nobody else was laughing as they were focused on his deep blue eyes.

Star pupils. How interesting

“Didn't the tsaritsa have a harbingers who had star eyes?” Venti suddenly jumps up, nervous about recognizing those eyes

“And why are you jumping so quickly? Only guilty criminals jump when they see evidence”

“didn't one of your civilians have similar eyes? I think I remember one from the tavern you forced me in”

“No, I don't think so” Venti gulps as all the archon's eyes are on him. Why did he even open his mouth

“Every time you open your mouth you incriminate yourself deeper, you must be gifted there”

He believed in you Kaeya when you told him you were only flirting and nothing more.

“What do you mean I'm an uncle?”

“Oops?”

“Where are they now? Don't tell me you are a deadbeat”

“Sumeru, they left almost a year ago”

“you would never dare…”

“...yes”

“Retribution!”

“What do you think about naming him ‘aster’ because of his star eyes?” Nahida plays with the baby who only wants to sleep, he is so grumpy he reminds her of someone

“I don't think it's a boys name”

“Then what about Zappu? It means star of stars”

“Aww that is cute, I might think about it”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not changing my OC's sexuality?

i really like making OCs. sometimes i write a story with them or draw some comics about them, but most of them don't get anything more than my initial character introduction art. a while ago one of my mutuals asked if she could use one of my OCs as a D&D character. i'll call my mutual "liz" and my OC "stella". i agreed. over the next two months or so liz would occasionally commission a $5-10 sketch of something that happened during one of the D&D sessions featuring stella. drawing these was fun, and i enjoyed how liz was fleshing her out and developing her personality, and i began to appreciate stella more.

recently i drew an F/F pairing of stella with another one of my OCs in the middle of a passionate kiss. liz messaged me, saying that she plays stella as AroAce and romance repulsed like she is, and would never kiss someone like that. i thought liz was asking in a round-about way if she had to change D&D stella's sexuality, so i said she could do whatever she wanted with stella in her campaigns. well. i guess that's NOT what liz meant, because she sent me a wall of text saying that since i had abandoned stella and liz "adopted" her i should respect what she decided about the character since stella was equally her creation, so could i please either delete the post from my blog or add an update where it's revealed that stella was "just experimenting" and realized she was romance repulsed. honestly, i thought liz was just joking (because who the fuck says that) so i said "i'll see you in court for the custody battle". but liz doubled down and DEMANDED i make stella AroAce.

i was really annoyed at first but now i'm conflicted. on the one hand, stella clearly means a lot to liz (more than me tbh) and she's right about how much of her personality she created, though "equally her creation" is pretty generous. on the other, it's my fucking OC!! i should be able to draw art of my characters kissing if i want!! am i just being petty by refusing to canonize stella as AroAce? am i the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

[angiesmagicspace]

The Met and the Aftermath

Pairing: idol! Hongjoong x reader

Genre: smut, fluff

Word count: 5.7k

Warnings: mile-high club, oral (male and female), unprotected sex, breeding, dirty talk, name-calling (princess, baby, slut, etc.), semi-public touching, slight voyeurism, possessive behavior, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, unless its intentional)

Summary: Honjoong dream finally came true, and he can share that dream with you, his lovely girlfriend. Although one comment from his favorite designer made him forget about going to the after-party. Instead, he held the after-party in your hotel bedroom, only for the two of you.

Authors note: It took me a month to write this, so I hope you like it as much as I do. This is not proofread but honestly I couldnt care less.

Masterlist

Your request

The first Monday in May, for some a day like every other, but for the fashion world it means Met Monday. And for you, it means another year of waking up bright and early so you and your beloved boyfriend Hongjoong can rate the outfits on the red carpet. It's something both of you enjoyed very much. Every year, you would witness the passion and admiration Hongjoong has for fashion. He would watch the whole event with a notebook in hand just so he could write all his opinions on the outfits and the designer's name for each one. Sometimes he would stay up even after he had seen all the outfits and sketch his idea for an outfit for this year's theme. Every year you wish he would get an invitation, but sadly not many K-pop idols are invited, it's usually maybe five every year. And every year he would remind you that even if he got invited, he would love to go with his members and not alone. Even though everyone around you thought that no matter what, he deserved to go alone or with someone.

Surprisingly, a few days after this year's Met gala, his manager called him to a meeting about something very exciting and essential. Hongjoong was very nervous walking out of the apartment to go to that meeting; even though he knew it wasn't anything bad, the whole secrecy about it scared him a bit. While he was in a meeting, you went on with your day, not thinking too much about it. In the evening, you were at home just chilling in the living room when Hongjoong burst through the door with the biggest smile on his face. “Someone is in a good mood. How did the meeting go?” you asked him while slowly approaching to hug him. “Babe, you won't believe what happened. Try to guess, I will give you a hint. It's something I wanted all of my life.” he blurted out, almost jumping from how excited he was. “I don't know, they finally found a way to make you taller.” you giggled while he just frowned. “ Ha ha very funny now be serious the answer is more simple than you think.” he encouraged you. To him, it was only logical that you would make a connection between his joy after the meeting and the gala you two watched a couple of days ago. “ I want to be right about my guess, if my gut isn't tricking me, someone was invited to the Met,” you said a little unsure, because what if you were wrong, and now he's just going to be disappointed. But to your surprise, he just smiled even bigger, silently confirming your guess. “ Oh my God, Hongjoong, that's amazing. I am so happy for you, oh God, you must be so excited.” you practically screamed in his face, hugging him as tightly as possible. “Thank you, baby, I am so excited about this. Though I am the only one out of the group that has been invited. Although they did allow me to bring a plus-one, I really want you to be my plus-one. Will you give me the honor of bringing you as my plus-one?” he explained everything in a matter of seconds, he was talking like he was in a rush or something. His fast talking didn't give you the time to really process everything. I mean, it is a huge deal to be invited to an event like this, this was huge for him but also for you. It wouldn't be your first public appearance with him, but you never attended an event of such significance. But despite your initial fears and thoughts, you knew he wouldn't forgive you if you didn't go. “Of course, I will go with you. I would never miss something so meaningful to you. But also I will get a chance to be dressed in a fancy gown and jewelry.  I would be a fool if I said no to such an offer.” you say to him, already imagining the whole event even though it's a year away. “Now that you have mentioned dressing up.  I already know the designer that will be dressing both you and me for this spectacular night.” he said excitedly, “You know how I went to that Balmain show a month ago, well it seems like Olivier really liked my opinions and style, and he is the one that decided to invite me among other celebrities.” You knew how huge this was, a lot of brands would buy entire tables and fill them with celebrities they like, meaning that Balmain and Olivier choose him, particularly because they also believe that he deserves this. You didn't know what to say, so you just hugged him, feeling like a proud mom. 

After this big announcement, your schedule turned upside down. Both of you needed to find some inspiration for what you are going to wear because everything you will be wearing that night will be hand sawn in the next few months. Also, all the jewelry will be made in that time, so everyone needed to act quick. You never realized how much time the preparations for the Met Gala take this much time. Of course, you heard every celebrity bragging about how much time was needed for their outfit to be made, but you never really thought about the numbers they were mentioning. Hongjoong took matters into his own hands, trying to find the perfect inspiration for both of the outfits. You weren't allowed to know the theme, at least Hongjoong tried to keep it a secret from you. All you knew is that the outfits needed to be dark and seductive, which to be honest already sounded like a nightmare to you. You really are attracted to Hongjoong, sometimes even the little things he does can turn you on. So knowing, that you will need to deal with a night full of him just being in his element dressed in some sexy suit, it didn't really bring you peace.

At the beginning of June, you had your first meeting with Olivier in Paris. Of course, Hongjoong needed to be extra, so he rented a private jet for you two to go there. At first, his need to be extra seemed like he just wanted to be a diva, which you understood. But on the day of the flight, it was very clear why he wanted the two of you in the private jet. That morning, you woke up to the feeling of his hands slowly caressing your ass, which wasn't very surprising at first. The realization hit you when he pulled you very close to him and started kissing you and slowly almost unnoticeably he started grinding on you. To your surprise, he didn't go any further, but that also really annoyed you because now you were the one who was desperate for a good fuck. When you got to the airport, you were greeted by his manager and some security, for now, no more people were needed since it was only a meeting to discuss outfit ideas. You entered the jet, and it was very spacious, there were about six seats but also a little secluded sleeping area. Soon everyone was seated and the flight to Paris started. At first, you, Hongjoong, and his manager made some small talk, mainly talking about Honjoongs outfit ideas and how it's a pity that this trip will only be a day maybe two. If you were being honest, this meeting could've easily been a video call. But Olivier insisted on you two coming to Paris to spend some time with him, also, so he could take the measurements, so they can start the sawing process as soon as possible. After a few minutes, the manager suggested you both go rest a bit, since this whole trip and jet lag will be very tiring for all of you. 

You and Hongjoong went to the sleeping area, as soon as you went in Hongjoong closed the door to that area with a devilish smile on his face. “Joong what are you planning? I can see it in your eyes, so spill it already.” He just smiled as he slowly hovered over you on the bed. “Well baby, we've both been busy ever since I got invited, and we will be even busier in the next few months. So why don't we make the most of our time on these trips? You know, we can just enjoy each other's company every given chance.” He was very seducing, you got to admit, but the entire idea of fucking wherever and whenever with whoever outside to hear you kinda scared you. “Joongie you know I want you as much as you want me. But we are in the air with both your manager and security in the room next to us. Don't you think it's a bit risky to do something like this?” That's when his entire demeanor changed, his eyes got darker and his smirk got bigger. “Baby, I don't really care where we are or who can hear us. If I want to get a taste of that sweet little pussy of yours, I will do it, no matter the circumstance.” Those words send a chill down your spine, you could feel yourself getting wetter and that's when you decided to not care at all and just succumb to your boyfriend's idea. You grabbed his hair, yanking him down, pulling him in a passionate kiss. You could feel him smiling but also moving his hands all over your body, pulling your shirt up, slowly caressing your stomach up to your boobs when he violently ripped your bra in half. Pulling away from the kiss, you moaned, that action alone leaving your pussy throbbing and your mind hazy. He pulled your shirt up, revealing your hardened nipples, in that process he made sure to kiss each boob and give it the attention it deserves. Every move he made now was just a successful attempt to make you even wetter than you initially were. He slowly kissed down your stomach, pulling down your sweatpants and panties, which were soaked and almost see-through at this point. While kissing your thighs, he forced your legs apart, revealing the most gorgeous sight to him. First, he just kissed your pussy everywhere except where you needed him, teasing you in the most painful way he could. You started whining and bucking your hips up, trying to get him to stop and finally give you the pleasure you required. “Slow down, sweet girl, I am just starting my meal, I don't want to get too full so soon.” He grinned, and you felt like he was mocking your desperation, but soon you felt his tongue slowly licking from your entrance up to your clit and focusing on it. He made sure that you felt every move of his tongue. It felt like heaven, you didn't even realize how much you wanted this until this very moment. His mouth felt amazing on you, tongue slowly circling around your clit, while his hand slowly moved to your entrance. “Oh how I missed this sweet pussy,” he slowly pulled away, replacing his tongue with his fingers, “I missed your sweet taste and how you always manage to get wetter in a matter of seconds.” He slowly pushed his fingers inside you while kissing you, so you can taste yourself on his tongue. “Seems like you have gotten tighter since the last time we had some time for ourselves,” he commented while moving his fingers in and out of you, trying to find your sweet spot. Suddenly a very loud moan escaped your lips, and that's when he knew that he was doing just the right thing. He kept pressing on that spongy spot inside you, all while trying to muffle your moans into the kiss. Pulling away from the kiss, he went down to your pussy again, giving it all the attention it needed. That was all it took for you to see stars, the moment his tongue came in contact with your clit was the moment that pressure in your lower belly was released. You were still in a moment of bliss, too focused on the pleasure you felt to even notice that Honjoong came just from eating you out. “Oh my God, baby, look what you have done to me. Made me look like some horny teenager cumming in his pants.” he chuckled while slowly laying next to you. “I'm so sorry baby, I promise to make it up to you whenever you say.” you knew that keeping this promise would be harder than it looks like. You were his pillow princess, always the one that gets to feel the pleasure first, so knowing that there will be a day when the roles will be switched made you a bit anxious. “I would say don't make promises that you can't keep, but I would really like for you to keep this one.” he chuckled as he slowly snuggled beside you, already falling asleep.

Before you knew it, you were in Paris on your way to the hotel to freshen up a bit before you meet with Olivier. You felt uneasy being in the car with the manager and security, knowing what you two did on the plane. On the other hand, Hongjoong was unbothered, making small talk with his manager about the meeting and just overall being very casual. You didn't have much time when you entered the hotel room, so you quickly showered and changed your outfit, and off to the meeting you went. The meeting was very nice, Olivier was really excited to meet you, he mentioned that Hongjoong tends to talk about you a lot, which made your heart flutter. Most of the meeting consisted of Hongjoong talking about his idea for the looks, and Olivier mostly agreeing with everything. You were quite surprised when Hongjoong mentioned a dress with a very high slit for you. He is usually against showing you off, because he tends to be very possessive of you, just like he is possessive of everyone around him, even his own fans. But you weren't against that idea, nor was Olivier, he even commented how it would be a shame to not show off your beautiful figure. This comment made you blush really hard, Olivier works with models and a bunch of celebrities like the Kardashians, so this comment made you feel fantastic about yourself. After a three-hour meeting, which still could've been a video call, you all said your goodbyes. Sadly for all of you, there was no time to explore Paris, not this time. Hongjoong had a really packed schedule right now, preparing a new album and a tour takes a lot of time. So after the meeting, you went straight to the airport to go on your flight back to Korea.

In the next few months, everything got really hectic. Hongjoong would spend most of his days in the company working on everything that needs to be finished before the tour. Meanwhile, you focused on your work as much as possible. You two didn't really see each other.  Sometimes you would wait for him at night and even then both of you were too tired to even speak, so you would just cuddle or maybe try to watch something, but most times you would fall asleep at the begging of whatever you were watching. You missed Hongjoong a lot, you would think that you are used to these periods of not seeing each other, but it's hard. Of course, you would text each other during the day, but nothing can change the physical aspect of your relationship. You missed cuddling him and kissing him, but most of all you missed your passionate nights together. Sometimes you tried to satisfy yourself, but that just didn't work, nothing could ever feel as good as your boyfriend. You tried distracting him while he was working by sending dirty texts and photos, but that wasn't successful. He would reply with the same energy, but that wouldn't last very long or give you enough encouragement to try to make yourself feel good. At one point you just gave up, hoping that at least when he goes on tour, and you go with him of course, you two would have some time for intimacy. And you weren't wrong at all, of course, most of the time he was busy with rehearsals and filming interviews, but most nights he would be full of adrenaline after the concert, and he would use that energy on you. That's how you found yourself in the position you were in right now, naked, covered in hickeys, while he kept thrusting in and out of you. Every thrust felt heavenly, he was hitting the spot every time while slowly kissing your neck and telling you how good you feel around him. “Oh love, you feel so good around my cock, always so good for me.” you just moaned at his words, not being able to form any thoughts let alone full sentences. Everything about this felt so good, you were on cloud nine, literally. “I'm…. I'm going to cummm” you silently screamed, not being able to produce any sound louder than a whisper. “Oh yes, princess, cum for me, show me how much you missed this.” his words sent you over the edge you came on his command like always. Not much later, he was also cumming inside you, your pussy squeezing him and milking him for everything he's worth. Afterward, you two just lay there enjoying each other's presence. “I'm sorry for not being able to spend more time with you, I hope nights like these can replace it.” he apologized even though he knew that you don't need him to. “Baby, you know that I'm not mad at you, and believe me if this is how you apologize maybe I should be mad more often.” you laughed as you hugged him throwing your leg around his waist and taking in his after-sex scent. “Oh, don't worry, I will find reasons to apologize like this even when you aren't mad.” he chuckled, hugging you back as he slowly calmed down his breathing and fell asleep slowly.

The rest of the tour went smoothly, with a lot of sightseeing and a lot of long nights with Hongjoong in your hotel room. The next stop was Paris and you knew what that meant, it was finally time to try on your dress and Hongjoongs suit for the gala. You were excited, to say the least, you have seen the sketches of the outfits and they were stunning. Yours was a black floor-length dress with a lot of diamonds and a diamond necklace to top it off. As for Hongjoong, his outfit was just a simple black suit, but there was a twist, he won't be wearing any dress shirt underneath just suit and that's it. Just imagining him in that made you excited and wet. But you needed to stay calm and collected, you really didn't need anyone at Balmain to know how horny you are for your boyfriend. 

When you got to the fitting, you met Olivier and some of the seamstresses that made your outfits. Your outfits were on the hangers with your jewelry laid out in a velvet box, everything was like a dream, you were speechless just looking at the outfits. “Someone is mesmerized by the dress I see” commented Olivier looking at you. “How could I not be, the dress is magical. Thank you so much for making this dream come true.” you hugged Olivier as tight as you could. “It's my pleasure, truly. You just need to be careful, one of my dresses was responsible for Kim's daughter, I do not want to be responsible again.” he chuckled winking at you and Hongjoong. You just laughed, Hongjoong on the other side was very confused but smiled. “I will leave you two to try on the outfits, just call if you need help, and when you are done.” Olivier went into the other room with the seamstresses, leaving you two alone. “I see you are very happy with the dress. I'm glad we succeeded in making something you really like.” Hongjong said, while taking off his clothes to try on his suit. “Baby, the dress is so beautiful, I couldn't be happier about it. Thank you so much.” you thanked him while taking off your clothes. “What did Olivier mean when he said he doesn't want to be responsible again? You know, that comment about Kim's daughter.” Hongjoong asked as he fixed some parts of his suit. You knew that he didn't know much about celebrities like the Kardashians, so it seemed normal that he asked. But how do you explain this without it seeming like you are asking him to make you a baby. “Oh, about that, well Olivier made the dress that Kanye bought for Kim's birthday, and well let's just say that Kim got more than that dress as a present for that birthday,” you explained shyly. “Please help me with the zipper,” you asked him, and he practically ran to help you. “What do you mean, she got more than a dress?” I don't get it,” he asked again, zipping your dress up and helping you put on the necklace. “For fuck's sake Hongjoong, they made a baby that night and Kim said that it was because of that dress,” you said, a bit annoyed for having to explain such a thing. You looked up in the mirror in front of you to look at the dress, but the first thing you saw was your boyfriend smirking at you. “ Oh, so that's what he meant by that. I'm just confused why he said it like it's a bad thing,” Hongjoong explained rubbing your hips, looking at you“ I don't think that it would be a bad thing to claim my baby, show everyone that you are mine.” You gulped as Hongjoong's hands went around your lower belly, caressing it like you are already pregnant. “Well, maybe it's not a bad thing, maybe that was just a warning or a prediction,” you commented, already feeling your panties getting wet, but also feeling Hongjoong get hard behind you. “So you wouldn't mind if we played around without any protection. It's already making me hard just thinking about feeling all of you on my dick. I can't wait to fill you up after the gala.” he said, pushing you against his hard-on, making you whimper desperately. You couldn't contain yourself, the whole idea of him cumming inside of you made you extremely aroused. “You know we need to call everyone when we are done, but I can't go in front of them in this state, plus you owe me if I remember correctly.” Your mind immediately went to the flight when you joined the mile-high club. With that in mind, you just went down on your knees ready to give him the best blowjob of his life. “Oh, my obedient little slut knows what she promised. I will remember this, don't worry.” He unbuckled his pants, and you pulled down his boxers, wrapping your tiny hand around his much larger dick. He threw his head back the moment he felt your hand on the head of his dick. Putting his hand on your head, he slowly guided you closer to him. You opened your mouth, leaving tiny kisses on the head of his cock as you rubbed his base. “Princess, you know it's not your place to tease, give daddy what you owe him, and be a good slut for him.” You knew that you will regret it if you do not listen to him, so you immediately opened your mouth, wrapping it around him. Taking all of him inside was a crazy idea, but you made it your priority right now. He felt himself touching the back of your throat and your cheeks hollowing around him, which made him feral. Throwing his head back, he bucked his hips into your mouth. “Oh yes, baby, that's right. You're going to swallow it all, milk me for everything I'm worth.” And that's exactly what you did, you brought your hand to his balls, slowly massaging them to make him cum faster. Not long after that, he was cumming down your throat, making the most erotic noises. “Oh my God, baby, that was amazing, my love.” He praised you, giving you a hand to help you stand up. He wiped the corners of your mouth with his thumb, pushing it inside your mouth later, so you can suck off everything from it. “Brush your hair a bit, I'm going to call everyone in to finish the fitting.” He kissed you before going out of the room to call Olivier and the seamstresses in. The rest of the fitting went smoothly, there was no need to change anything, so you were done in half an hour. After that, you two had some free time, so Hongjoong decided to take you shopping for some gifts for his family and yours.

Finally, the day Hongjoong dreamed of, feels funny thinking this since usually people say this about their wedding but well. Hongjoong and you arrived in New York on the morning of the gala, probably the worst plan ever, but you don't have much of a say in these plans. You had breakfast at the hotel when you arrived, after that the preparations started. There was about thirty people in the hotel suite, you got your hair, make up and nails done all at the same time. The goal was to get you both ready on time, everyone worked like you were already late. Hongjoong was paranoid about being late, so he made a plan with the manager to do everything as fast as possible. Honestly, you were also kind of scared, not of being late, but of people's reaction to the two of you on this event. Him being there seemed natural, but what if people wanted someone from the band with him and not you. But there wasn't much time for what ifs, you needed to get dressed and go to take some pictures before leaving the hotel. As soon as the last flash went off, everyone was rushing to get the two of you in the van and to the gala. There was a lot of pressure and stress with everyone around you, but you calmed down the moment you felt Hongjoong squeeze your hand and smile at you. The ride wasn't too long, it almost felt like you teleported there. When the van stopped, make up and hair touched you up one last time and off you go to the carpet. There were a lot of celebrities already there before you, that gave you a bit of peace, knowing that all that rushing wasn't worthless. The moment you two stepped on those stairs camera flashes were everywhere, honestly you thought you are going to go blind because of them, but everything went smoothly. Hongjoong gave a couple interviews talking about how important and meaningful this is to him, which designer made your outfits and many more questions. Soon you were in the museum, you went through the exhibitions and sat down on the table that was assigned to you. When you sat down, you felt yourself relaxing, finally some peace without rushing anywhere. Hongjoong made some small talk with some people that were at your table before the performances and dinner started. To be honest, you didn't really know who were you sat with, but I guess that is the protocol for people who are invited for the first time. Everything was great when dinner started, until you felt Hongjoongs hand on your thigh, squeezing it and caressing it. You looked at him, but he didn't budge, he looked so calm eating like nothing is happening. He in fact didn't stop caressing your thigh, going higher and higher every time. You pushed his leg with yours, but he didn't even look at you. He just pushed himself closer to you and whispered in your ear. “Baby, stay calm please, nobody needs to know that I'm getting you ready for our after-party.” That sentence alone shocked you, you remembered Olivier's comment and how it inspired Hongjoong. You tried to stay calm as his hand went closer to your pussy. You were soaked by the time his hand was on your pussy. He massaged around your clit before he moved your panties to the side and slid his finger inside. The performances started at that moment which made you relived since everyone was watching them and not you. Hongjoong pumped his finger in and out of you very slowly, making sure to press on your g-spot every time he went in. You needed to cover your mouth with your hand to stop yourself from whimpering or, even worse, moaning at that very moment. He continued playing with you until performances were over, the moment they stopped he pulled his finger out, brushing it on his pants. “This is exactly how I need you wet, bothered and in need of some good fucking. The moment this is over, we are out, rushing to our hotel. Understood.” he whispered, and you just nodded slowly, trying to collect yourself so no one notices the change in your demeanor.

As soon as the dinner was over, Hongjoong rushed you to the van. Everyone was talking about the after-party, but you knew very well that's not where you two were rushing. When you entered the van, everyone was screaming and congratulating you, it seemed like the internet really liked you two on the carpet together. That was a small relive for your thoughts, but not for the ache between your legs. When you got to the hotel, the staff already packed their staff and were on the way to their rooms, which left you and Hongjoong alone in your suite. The moment Hongjoong closed the doors, your lips were on his, kissing him hungrily. He just chuckled, he got you just how he wanted, you were wet and needy. You made your way to the bedroom, where he helped you to get out of your dress, but he ordered you to keep your heels and necklace. He took off his suit in a matter of seconds, he pushed you on the bed, kissing your neck and down to your lower belly. “Are you ready to be marked as mine for everyone to see. I can't wait for you to be pregnant and full of my baby.” He rubbed your clit slowly before pushing two fingers inside you. The pleasure wasn't strong, you needed more, you craved his dick inside you. You squeezed your walls around his fingers, trying to give him a hint that you required more. “Someone is very needy. My baby mama is craving something bigger than my fingers, huh.” You could only moan at his words, already too far gone to say anything or form any thoughts. “Don't worry, I will make sure to get you full and pregnant by the end of this night.” He took off his boxers, pumping himself a bit. “Come up princess, spit on my cock and stroke it. I need this to be comfortable for my baby mama.” You propped yourself on one hand, spitting on his dick and stroking him to make it wet. As you did that, you looked him in the eyes, which turned him on even more. That dazed look in your eyes gave him confidence, he knew that only he can make you feel and look like this. He went down to kiss you and push you to lay down as he positioned his cock on your entrance. “Oh Hongjoong…. Feels so good, so full.” You moaned like never before, the stretch gave you just what you needed. “ Yeah you're feeling full baby.” He continued thrusting inside you, the tip of his dick brushing on your g-spot, making you see stars. Stroking your clit, he latched onto one of your nipples while his other hand massaged your other boob. “I can't wait to see your boobs full of milk for our baby.” He covered all of your sensitive spots, your stomach felt like it's going to burst. “Now mama, I need you to cum for me. Cum for daddy, so he can breed you nice and full.” Every word was punctuated by his thrust, every thrust made his tip slam into your g-spot, that was your limit. Your pussy started squeezing his dick, he rubbed your clit faster and that's when that pressure in your lover belly was released. You came all over him, he continued thrusting, feeling your pussy squeeze him trying to keep him inside. Throwing his head back, he came inside you, his tip touching your cervix. “Oh yes, mama, keep everything inside. Don't you dare a single drop to leave your pussy.” He slowly took himself out, pushing one finger inside you to keep everything inside. He laid beside you, stroking your hair with his other hand. “Thank you, daddy, for filling me up.” You smiled at him, as he kissed your forehead. He pulled his finger out and went to get a towel to clean you and your panties. “Daddy is now going to clean you up. I'm going to try to be gentle, I know you are sensitive.” You just nodded, as he slowly cleaned you and put some panties on you. “Thank you baby. I can't wait to see if we made a baby tonight.” He laid down, hugging you closely. “Me too. Hopefully for the next year we will need three invitations.”

[answer2jeff]

not a lot, just forever.

carmen's opening up, but he wishes you'd do the same.

warnings: fluff + angst. fem!reader who is also a big reader (mostly poetry) and occasionally journals. unestablished relationship (friends to lovers, mutual pinning.) very touchy-feely. writing is overly detailed and so painfully poetic you might vomit.

word count : 2.4k

hey. i think i left my book at ur place. 11:15pm.

sorry, just got home. i can bring it over now 11:36pm.

oh yeah that'd be great! thank you. (sorry for the inconvenience) 11:38pm.

no worries 11:41pm.

lmk when ur here. xx 11:45pm.

Carmen had some idea of what that meant: xx. He knew what it meant when girls signed notes with xoxo in replacement of red kiss marks and strokes of long acrylic nails through their secret lovers hair—not that he ever received one, no. But your occasional visits practically felt just as intoxicating. If the order was x-o-x-o, and the worded statement being hugs-and-kisses, then xx must've been hugs, right? Two hugs. Like the one you shared the first time you met at Natalie's baby shower. He smelled like authentic Italian cologne with a hint of cigarette smoke diluted by dish soap and warm water. His grasp was hesitant, but ever-all-consuming once his shoulders relaxed. It was like metamorphosis. The way he wrapped his arms underneath while you tossed yours up around his neck, his gold chain feeling cold and hard against your skin, unlike the rest of him.

He was an under-hugger. He kept the ones he cared for unsuspectingly close to him. Such physical touch felt familiar. Maybe you'd just remembered stories and inside jokes about him through Natalie so well his tenderness and anxious nature was fitting to the idea of him you had in your head.

That was almost 6 months ago. And surprisingly, you'd become pretty good friends. Not that either of you really did friends at your age...but somehow it worked. You'd come to realize that he was so much kinder than anyone painted him out to be. And yet, you never really talked about yourselves.

Not in a way that really mattered, anyway.

The articles you'd written, the interviews you conducted with snobby assholes, the dozens of freelancing jobs with horrific schedules you had before, what you loved about writing and what you hated about the world around you—those were topics of discussion. Carmen's favorite restaurants he ever expanded his career with, the odd relationship he had with his sister that flipped like a rusty switch after highschool, candle scents he loved and bought over and over again despite their poor quality wicks, the first time he got drunk and how he swore he'd never let another drop of alcohol touch his tongue—those were normal methods of late night conversations.

But what about your dream to publish a novel? Or the memoir you read that completely changed your views on love as a whole. What about Carmen's uncle being his only friend his entire life? Oh, how he would've become a starving, broken artist if he ever believed he had enough talent for it. Hell, what about the girl you met in middle school who mysteriously moved away and shared all her secrets on the true meaning of life, death, and everything in between? Why didn't you ever talk about those things? Maybe it was too close, too personal. If he knew you too well, maybe he'd see you as you saw yourself.

Carmen had been thinking about those colored pencils you bought him for his birthday and can't get himself to tell you he uses them every day. Not just to illustrate his dishes...but you, sometimes. Your hair, your smile. He used that photo you begged him to snap of you staring out your window melodramatically with a bowl of pasta carbonara and a glass of bubbling champagne in front of you as reference. How could he ever show you the endless amount of pages containing the essence of your existence in that goddamn sketch book?

Questions. Questions. Questions.

Thoughts of potential ate away at your patience with every pacing step you took around your bedroom.

Answers. Answers. Answers.

—

"Do people even have deep conversations over pasta and wine anymore?" You trace the pad of your middle finger against the rim of your glass, your elbow propped up on the counter so your chin can rest in your hand.

Carmen draws his eyebrows together, the little crinkle in his forehead showing. You glance up at it and struggle to stifle a growing smile. He cocks his head before barring his bottom lip behind his teeth, picking at the skin with the tips of his fingers. That signature pose; where his left arm is crossed against his chest and his hand holds the elbow of his right arm. It's a habit you almost immediately picked up on. It told you time and time again that he was nervous.

Thinking. Contemplating.

"Is that, like—" he breaths a chuckle, but it comes out more as an accidental huff than anything. Smug bastard, he is. Especially when he drags his gold chain across his neck as it loops around the finger that once picked at the dry skin of his mouth.

"Your way of..asking me for a deep conversation over wine and pasta?"

Ah. He's called you out. The one thing he couldn't shake was his annoyance when you were so completely and utterly vague about your wants, your needs, your desires. Hell, Carmen Berzatto would wrap a lasso around the moon, or any planet you put your claim on, and drag it down so it could be yours and only yours. Only if it meant you'd stop feeling so complacent. You knew this. At least to some extent. His little favors buttered you up until you a mushy mess of adoration. What really scratched at your urges and your patience was how blissfully unaware he was of his show of affection toward you. Part of you feared that if you ever told him how much it caressed that bruised, fruit fly infested, rotted spot of your heart so gently it felt like a kiss, despite the sting, he'd stop.

"Y'know what? Yeah. I'm asking."

You shrug your shoulders and stare down at your nearly finished bowl of penne with vodka sauce. Stabbing a stack of pasta onto your fork and the clinking sound of the metal banging against the ceramic bowl seemed to fill the silence before Carmen finally spoke again, though with much hesitation.

"Okay," he barely whispers, nodding his head and fumbling to take a seat in the barstool underneath the counter. Sitting across from you gives him the constant justification to just look at you.

Starting off this session with a question was quite a kicker.

"Y'know Sade Zabala? Author of that book you brought back for me."

Carmen blinks slowly. He pretends to dig deep in his memory to identify the name, wondering if you'd ever mentioned her. But he fails, pulling his lips taught, so as to say 'I've got nothin.' The sound of your dramatic sigh and the 'tsk' sound of your lips separating makes his palms sweat.

"She's a wonderful writer. A poet. I mean, really, her book Coffee and Cigarettes was one of the most gut-wrenchingly beautiful and altruistic collections of.. of love, pain, rejuvenation—all of it."

If he was completely honest, he doesn't have a clear image of what those words meant. But it doesn't seem to matter what comes out of your mouth or how you phrase it. Your use of specific language fascinates him. There is nothing else he can do in this moment but nod and allow the corners of his lips to curl into a smile strong enough to make the apples of his cheeks go pink.

"I'll tell you one line of one of the greatest poems she had ever written in that book. In the humble opinion of yours truly, of course."

"Sure," he assures you. "Of course, of course."

"Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway."

Saliva pools in your mouth as you speak the quote, the taste of every vowel washing down your throat as if you dedicate them to Carmen himself. Which, in bare and naked truth, you do. The only thing you could ever ask of Carmen was to let himself tear himself open with the hope and belief that you would crawl into his fears and convert them into profound discoveries. And the trust that you would not stitch him up with your own hands, but rather clasp your fists around the circumference of his wrists as he carefully closes the wound his trajectory of life has created.

"Wow." Carmen's eyes go another centimeter wider, the language still processing in his mind. He interprets it over and over again.

"I know. And—" you set your fork down so you can have complete focus as you recite your following question, "I was just wondering what you'd say if someone told you that, y'know? What would you tell them?"

Vulnerability, he thinks. Fuck.

"I mean...fuck that's—that's a good question. Um.." he chews on the flesh of his bottom lip once again, looking above at the warm glow of the light that hangs over your island counter as if he'll find the answer up there.

"I don't even like the good stuff about me, so. I'm not sure how to, like, articulate that? Is that the word?"

Now the quickening pace has started.

"And what do you think the good stuff about you is?"

Probing questions like this are somewhat too-close-for-comfort inquiries for friends. But Carmen would be stupid to mind it. He relishes in it, actually. With much guilt. But it's tainted with the secret pleasure of being cared for by someone he so deeply valued the opinions and thoughts of.

Since the first day you met, Carmen knew he would never go to anyone else for some piece of mind. For some sanity. Or even just for someone to explain the method to his madness. You understood it—what he believed.

"I care a lot, I think. But that's not always practical. It hardly ever is now that I think about it."

"You do. You care so much." You soften your tone, hesitantly reaching for Carmen's tattooed hand that rests on the cold marble counter.

"Sometimes it freaks me out."

"Like, this whole thing, the—the restaurant, where my life is right now, it makes me crazy. But it also keeps me..."

"Human," you finish.

"Yeah, human."

Though it takes him a couple seconds for his digits to not second guess themselves, he gently takes your hand in his. The slow pace in which he intertwines his fingers with yours is enough to kill you.

"Can I tell you something?" Carmen asks.

"Anything."

"You take good care of me. Of everyone, really." . His thumb gently rubs your warm skin, the rough and calloused mounds over his fingerprints soothing you. A deep breath moves in and out from his lungs as he meets your eyes again. This time, he won't look away.

"It's like you were made to just be good."

You smile, but you're not convinced you're certain on what he means. "Thank you, Carm. But—good?"

"I don't know. You're warm. I'm—I'm not like that. I'm not warm."

This, this is where truths as bare as untraveled paws of loyal dogs that roamed the streets in search of security uncover themselves.

"What? Of course you are." You lean forward, feeling your heart pound so hard it could leap out of your body.

"I don't think I am."

To think—no, to know that Carmen Berzatto cannot share at least one feature of his layered soul he genuinely likes. God, that pains you. You could write a million sonnets listing every little thing you adored about your friend.

"Carmen, you—" you sigh, your head dropping for a fraction of a second. "You have such a big heart. You're not cold or...or out of reach, or anything like that, okay?"

Even with Carmen's tendency for rage and his tattoos that displayed yet another callback to his culinary career—his way of speaking: so gentle and unsupported, you're certain that he is something so much greater than just a chef. He took care of people too. His staff, his clientele, his family—of you. Whether it was home cooked meals when you were sick, or when you needed to complain about Natalie. Carmen listened. Not as her brother, but as your friend. You don't really remember when you started to regularly see each other during his leisure. Either at the restaurant, or a coffee shop next door to your complex, and eventually his living room.

"This is so fucking selfish, but—"

No, Carmen. You could never be selfish.

But you let him be hungry. You want him to be hungry. Starving for reassurance. Because you'll feed him until the empty space in his existence is filled.

"I just wish you'd look after yourself the way you take care of me. Like, fuck, hearing you look at yourself and point out all this shit that nobody notices—which I wish they fucking would—because I notice them and I still love those things about you is..."

Oh, what a beautiful mind you've always had. He'll always store all the love you can't have for yourself in his own heart. Your wit, your intelligence, your smile, even down to the way you have to readjust the grip of your fountain pen as you inscribe your thoughts into your journal

"Wrong." He completed his thought with just one word. "I don't like it. It makes me sad," he says again.

That breaks you. So much that a tear sure to be followed by many more wells up in your waterline. The glisten of the salty liquid in your eyes startles the wonderful man across you. You can see the immediate guilt in his face, his blue eyes filled with concern and regret. But you shake your head, holding onto his forearm as he raises his hand to your cheek to catch the falling tear. Fuck being friends. Fuck small talk. Fuck jokes and laughs and cigarettes and poor communication that just ended in silence.

This was here and now. There was no going back.

With that, you cupped Carmen's own cheek, leaning closer and closer to his lips before he desperately kissed you. His free hand anchored itself on your shoulder blade while yours crawled to the back of his head to burry itself in his golden curls. Your taste was everything. Salty with pasta with a sweet aftertaste that echoed from your fruity lip balm, followed by a final twinge of bitterness from your glass of red wine. He tasted of comfort, of acceptance, something you'd never felt against your tastebuds from the previous years of the dating pool. With every separation of your lips to swallow gasps of air, the further the two of you hovered over the counter in a needy attempt to get closer.

You didn't need answers. Not a lot from him either. Just him. Forever.

tags: @lemmejustpulloutmylightsaber @sexyyounglatinoboy @febris-amatoria @diorrfairy

[issamultistan]

fuck the attitude. | park sunghoon

paring: highschool!sunghoon x fem!reader

wc: 2,905 (two thousand, nine hundred, five)

warnings: nsfw content, cursing, mentions of alcohol/drugs and the use of them, not proofread

contents: dom!sunghoon, brat-ish!reader, partygirl!reader, (at first) shy!sunghoon, mean!sunghoon, sunghoon has four fwbs, mentions of hyung line and txt's yeonjun, dirty talk, degradation, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, creampie, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, nipple play, spanking/slapping, fucking in a strangers bed???, use of “sweetheart” , “slut”

notes : INSP BY THIS??? CAPTION??? HELLO D-D SUNGHOON WAS TO HOT PASSING AWAY I NEED HIM OHMYGOD. this was supposed to be a horny thought but i got carried away... LMAOOO

also the way this a year old 😭😭 sorry i disappeared on y’all fr … I ALSO FORGOT TO ADD EVERYONE IS LEGAL 18 OR OVER 18 !!

“what?” sunghoon questions when you abruptly disturbed his concentration.

“c’mon it'll be fun, hoon!” you smile at the male. sunghoon grimaced when he heard the endearment, were the the two of you that close?

well, no.

it all started back in the beginning of senior year, only a few months ago, where you first met sunghoon in your sketching class. he was very quiet at first, too quiet for your tastes. i mean, you were the school renowned party girl. you could be seen at any party that your high school held, no matter if you knew the hosts or not. on the other hand, sunghoon was very different from you. he kept to himself, only having a few close friends, yet still was known as the “pretty prince on ice.” after all, he was amazing at figure skating. your personalities were so different; at least at first.

when you asked sunghoon to attend a party with you, sunghoon nearly wanted to run out of the classroom and never talk to you again. why would you want sunghoon to tag along some stupid party with a bunch of horny and drunk adults?

“okay, no. i am not going to a stranger’s party.” sunghoon drops his sketching pencil to look straight at you. “i don’t wanna go.” he finalizes.

you groan quietly, “why can’t you have some fun? i’m sure heeseung, jay, and jake are gonna be there too.” you smile at sunghoon when you mention his friends. he knew you were going to drag them in soon enough.

“i told you, y/n. no. besides, i have practice.” park sunghoon was lying straight out of his mouth. he only had practices sunday through thursday, but of course, you didn't know that. closing up your notebook you took a good look at the boy across from you.

“no wonder you’re a virgin.” you say, barely above a whisper.

“excuse you?”

a slight laugh exits your mouth, “i mean, if you never go to parties, you surely have never dicked a girl down before. if you have, you’re probably terrible at it and you probably haven't even drank or done drugs.” you chew on your bottom lip as you see sunghoon’s face contort from disgust to anger.

park sunghoon was mad. like really mad.

before the boy could say anything, the school bell rang throughout the campus building, cutting off any words that could've left sunghoon’s mouth.

when you packed up your stuff, you lean against your shared table, “i saw how you got mad, if you wanna prove me wrong, pull up to daniel choi’s house. i wanna see you there, hoonie.”

a slight smirk appears on your face to the point sunghoon wanted to smack it off. the fake sweetness that laced your words got him even more annoyed too. oh, he’s going to prove you wrong.

he’s sure of it.

after the small conversation you had with sunghoon, you wondered why he got so mad. like of course he would since you insulted his sex status, but what made him nearly yell at you? it surely couldn't have just been he was a virgin, right? or the fact he didn't drink or do drugs? it was genuinely the first time you saw sunghoon experience another emotion other than just neutral. even if it piqued your interests, you simply swatted it off your mind.

“hey, y/n!” a voice calls out from you down the hall. you look back and you see jake sim, a friend of yours and sunghoon.

“oh hi, jake! what's up?” jake rarely ever talks to you, even if the both of you had the same calculus class last period.

“hoon’s mad at you.” a slight downturned smile hooks his mouth as he says his words.

you rolls your eyes at him, “i wonder why.”

jake sighs, “he won't say what got him so mad, he just kinda said it was your fault.” the boy shrugs his shoulders as the two of you enter into class.

as the two of you sat down to whatever seat you wanted, you purse your lips, “all i said was he was a virgin because he never went to parties.”

the blond boy stares at you weirdly, as if you said something offensive. “you said what?”

“it’s not that big of a deal, he just can’t take a joke. like if i said that to you, you’d take it lightheartedly, right?” you look at jake expectantly.

“y/n, it doesn’t work like that… besides, what do you know about hoon?” jake scoffs at your previous words.

“let’s see, he’s quiet, ice skates really well... and that’s it. he’s really plain.” you laugh at your own words.

“yeah, and if you were closer to him you’d know he has like four girls on his dick right now.”

what.

“sunghoon? park sunghoon. mr. pretty prince on ice? no way.” your mouth twisted a bit at jake’s sentence. was he really being serious?

“you didn't know? he has a lot of friends with benefits type relationships. all of the girls he’s fucked always say he’s like a sex god.” jake whispers as he sees more students enter into the once empty classroom. “if you don’t change your attitude, he's probably gonna fuck it outta you.” jake jokes before the class bell rang, signaling classes were slowly going to go into session.

for the rest of class, you couldn’t think of a single thought about calc. all you could think was sunghoon.

four friends with benefits? fucked many girls? a sex god? he’d fuck your attitude out of you? what other secrets did sunghoon hid from you? well, you didn't have to take long because just in a few hours, you’ll see.

the clock strikes 21:35 (9:35 pm), meaning daniel’s party would start soon. daniel, or previously known as yeonjun, was an alumni of the current high school you were attending. you first met him in year 9 (freshman) year when he was in year 12 (senior). he quickly became the older-brother-type friend that you would become closer to as the years pass. even though daniel was committed to his college courses, he still had that high school wild party side in him. so every once in awhile, he’d host parties at his (insanely large) house.

as you take a look at the time, you start to get ready, texting your friends now and then, deciding what to wear. once you finished getting ready, you take a glance at the clock again. 22:18 (10:18pm). perfect.

you finish yourself up and met your friends outside as all of you drove to daniel’s house. even if you were already having fun with your friends, a particular someone stayed in your head. butterflies were swarming your stomach as you kept on thinking of jake’s words, “if you don't change your attitude, he’s probably gonna fuck it outta you.”

what were you thinking? it’s not like sunghoon was going to fuck you... unless?

the smell was just putrid. sex, alcohol, drugs, sex, alcohol, did you say sex yet? it was only half an hour into the party and yet you can see multiple people passed out on daniel's living room couch, a bunch of horny teenagers trying to suck their faces off, a group trying cocaine for the first time, park sunghoon looking so fucking hot, and— park sunghoon? didn’t he have practice?

too dumbfounded by the way sunghoon looked, daniel spotted you. “y/n!” you nearly knocked daniel down by jumping into his arms and hugging daniel. “you’ve grown so much! how’s been senior year?” he asks, trying to stabilize himself from nearly falling back first.

“it’s been great, danny.” the nickname brings a wave to nostalgia as he gives you a red solo cup of some random alcohol you could care less about.

time passes and you surprisingly haven’t drunken much nor did any lines of coke, smoked a blunt, touched molly— you get it. instead, you kept an eye out on sunghoon. as said he has specifically four girls he has his hands constantly. what a player. you internally roll your eyes at the man only a few feet away from you in the kitchen. sure, he was attractive. it’s not like he could pound you until your brain is fucked out in the best way, making sure his cock is brushing so deep in your pussy— what the fuck.

daniel thankfully interrupts your stupid thoughts by pushing you another cup of alcohol, “drink?”

you smile at his completely drunken state, “thanks, danny.”

“i think that should be enough for tonight, sweetheart.” the deep voice made you flinch, making your back hit the person’s chest. it's none other than park sunghoon, in the flesh, looking obnoxiously hot.

“who are you to decide how much i drink?” you quirk an eyebrow at the taller boy, taking a liking to the nickname.

“i just think that some people shouldn’t drink too much.” sunghoon says nonchalantly.

before you can properly retort back something witty, daniel stands on the kitchen counter. “i’m just gonna say this once because i’m probaby gonna be wasted soon but let’s do a cheers because i say so!” daniel was wacked out of his mind but, it was a funny kind of wacky. you raise your cup along with everyone else in the room and cheers with daniel. you take a glace back at sunghoon and instantly regretted it.

as he rose his cup, he bites his lower lip attractively, making his dimples become prominent to the eye. he then downs his drink in one fast gulp, sighing from the alcoholic drink afterwards. “you’re staring too hard, sweetheart.”

“i’m not.” this time you were the one lying out of your mouth. “why would you care? didn’t you have practice to attend? or your little girlies?”

a scoff comes from sunghoon, “sorry i lied, sweetheart. i don’t need them either, i have better things to do.” he presses a hand against the counter next to you, practically caging you in his body.

“like me?” you joke at first.

“yeah, like you.” a smirk appears on his face as he looks down at you. sunghoon knew too well what he was doing. the eye contact was unbearable, your breathing became ragged, and your drink moving around in your cup due to how shaky your hands have gotten. you bit your lip to silence yourself of saying anything more embarrassing.

“where’s that little y/n that teased me for being a virgin, huh? because all i see is a little slut just begging for my cock in her.” sunghoon playfully moans in your ear as he says the word “begging”.

gluping down the nervousness you try to think of something to say, “i’m not begging unless... you... i don't know... fuck the attitude outta me.” you mock sunghoon by moaning “fuck” and restating the words jake told you earlier.

“oh, i will.”

sunghoon immediately pulls you to a random room upstairs in daniel’s house and pushes you towards the bed, making you bounce lightly on the mattress.

“i’m gonna fucking ruin you.” and that’s what sunghoon did. stripping you from your jeans and panties, he latches his lips over your clit, sucking harshly at the bud. your hands find his black roots, pulling him closer to your cunt.

“so fucking needy, aren’t you? you’re so cock hungry for me, huh? haven’t even done anything but sucking on your stupid clit.” sunghoon mutters against your labia. his voice vibrates against you in the best way possible.

“fuck— yes i am— only for you!” you weakly murmur, unable to create full sentences with the amount of pleasure sunghoon provided. his strong arms wraps around your thighs, pushing you down to the mattress. your legs also find their way around his head, making his tongue fully insert itself into your hot cunt. lapping at your juices, in just a few minutes, sunghoon’s face became all messy. your voice raises in pitch as you sputter out, “coming— sunghoon!”

even if your high came crashing down, sunghoon smirks against your cunt, “yeah that’s right, come for me, say my name when you come.” a smack against your ass rippled through your veins as sunghoon kept on devouring you whole. with that, sunghoon bores his eyes into your as he flattened his tongue right on your cunt. you couldn’t look away. it was too much, you were so close coming undone over sunghoon’s tongue again.

“no— sunghoon— too much— want your cock.” your voice trembled but you tried everything you could to at least sound coherent enough.

“hmm? too much? don’t you mean too good? you’re gonna take everything i give you, got that?”

you felt like you were on cloud nine. even if sunghoon was just eating you out, he looks good doing it. a little too good. a smug smile as he eats you out, his nose and mouth all up in your pussy, and his strong arms hooking under you to make sure you don’t move. everything was so attractive.

with one last flick of his tongue, you came for the second time that night. you weren’t the one who would have multiple orgasms but, you might just have to try it because of sunghoon.

in such a short amount of time, you came twice. all from sunghoon eating you out. jake wasn’t joking around. sunghoon is like a sex god.

your thighs immediately clamp up after sunghoon removes himself from your pussy. he raised up to take off the layers he had on him but he laughs at you once he sees you trying to regain breaths, “awhh, is my tongue too much for you sweetheart? i didn’t even finger you. this stupid little cunt just loves coming, huh?”

one of his hands fiddle with his jeans, taking them off, while the other slides to your slick cunt and slaps it a few times. each time more and more of his saliva and your cum splats on his hands, causing him to get impossibly harder.

“i’m gonna fuck you, gonna fuck you so hard you’re crying for me to fill you up.” sunghoon grunts as he presses his tip on your opening, gaining the wetness on his cock. you simply moan back, you wanted his cock. you wanted to go dumb on his cock. that was all you needed.

once his cock fully slides in you, he takes no chance and starts roughly thrusting into you. it didn’t take that long for you to start moaning his name again. the bed was rocking to his motions, your hands on his chest trying to have some balance while his hands are secure on your thighs; pushing them along to his pace.

“ngh— sunghoon, fuck! more please, please sunghoon i need more—!” you mindlessly babble. you were experiencing so much pleasure, you didn’t even know you wanted more. your brain and your heart were jumbled up together.

“yeah? more? you want more you needy slut? alright, i’ll give you more.” hoon starts peeling off your top and bra, fighting the urge to just rip them off. he then grabs your sensitive nipples and twists them. the shocking pleasure has you nearly screaming for sunghoon. there’s so much happening, you couldn’t care if anyone could hear you outside.

“does it feel good, y/nnn?” slurring his words near the of you name. “look at you shutting your eyes, you love this!” sunghoon laughs as he kept on having a stable pace. his cock is so loose in you and the tip is practically abusing your cervix over and over.

sighing, moaning, groaning, grunting, whimpering was the only thing left in the room. along with sunghoon’s cock in you, of course. you were at the brink of that knot completely snapping in your stomach. it was so close; it was right there. tears even start dripping down to your cheeks, not in sadness or pain. but in delight.

the waves of pleasure were crashing down soon. they were waves crashing slowly. you needed those waves where they’d crash down fast. third orgasm was even better than the first.

“sweetheart, you’re crying? crying on my cock? fuck— you’re desperate to come.” sunghoon grunts as another bead of sweat starts dripping along his hairline. he was on the edge too, he needed it as much as you. a barely heard “mhmm!” escaped your lips as a response.

“god— sunghoon! use me— wanna have your cum in me— please!” you creak out. sunghoon laughs at your poor attempt of talking.

the warm, nearly silky feeling of my white strings of his cum was all in your pussy. snug, full, and filled. sunghoon’s arms gives up and falls right besides you.

“don’t ever say i’m a virgin again.” sunghoon groans as he takes his thrown off t-shirt to clean off yours and his cum off of you and him.

“i was just joking! hoon— fuck. you are a sex god.” you can’t help but laugh a bit.

“sex god??? who told you that.”

“… jake.” you reply.

“whatever, at least i got to prove it to you that i’m not a virgin.” hoon rolls his eyes at you.

“yeah but, i sure don’t think we can still be friends after this.” you sigh, looking at the ceiling above you.

“who said we were?”

“what?”

“who said we were just friends?”

who knew sunghoon wanted to fuck from the start?

kpop masterlist !

© issamultistan | tumblr

[kittyslvs]

NOTHING NEW ; SATORU GOJO

pairing: satoru gojo x fem reader word count: 1k (1029) summary: she always gave him everything, and never received anything. mari´s note: i wrote this about two weeks ago, but i got stuck. maybe if i upload it, inspiration will come back to me and there will be a second part lmao

After Suguru's incident, Satoru was never the same, it was logical. He felt alone and with no one to listen to his lament; a lie.

Lie, because y/n was always there for him; as his friend, as his lover for a few nights, as a classmate; but Satoru always took every sign of affection from the girl, and threw it away; because what she gives to him, means nothing. Nothing new to the young girl, but it ached in every nerve in her body just the same.

Y/N knew about this, but she always hoped that Gojo's attitude would change, and apparently after that, it did, apparently.

The white-haired man always called her at the end of the night, and she, hopeful that he would finally see what she had to give him, she always went, again and again; but she always came back with the thought of "tomorrow will be the day". It wasn't.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months; the hope and affection for him was waning. It seemed that y/n was the white-haired man's plaything of personal satisfaction and relief; y/n felt like shit, she felt that her personal worth was reduced to whatever a man wanted to give her, crumbs.

She had tried to talk to him about the situation, but the brave Satoru Gojo always evaded her, getting angry or ignoring her for days, only to call her back and go back to his routine.

At this point, she felt like a living dead, nothing new.

the clock on her wrist read 1:50, she had no reason to be awake at that hour; if not for the "recent" argument with the boy. Her face was full of tears, her eyes swollen and her cheeks red; she blamed satoru, but more she blamed herself for allowing him to have that effect on her.

And the stupidest thing was that they had been there before, in that fight, in that moment. Honestly, y/n felt she no longer had dignity; she had lost it when she accepted his haughty attitude countless times.

Y/n grabbed her phone, wiped her tears and left her room on her way to the kitchen, her steps were slow and listless; she felt that if she stayed in her room a moment longer, she would die. For Satoru was so audacious to go to her house three nights ago, take her with fake "I love you's" and more to her room; but, he was drunk, she wouldn't do that with him being almost unconscious, that's when Satoru pushed her, throwing her to the bed and started to take out everything he had inside of him.

"Please 'toru, you're drunk" the girl spoke while holding his face, so that he would stare at her. "You can barely stand on your own."

Apparently the latter was the worst insult for Satoru, who stared at her with rage in his eyes, took a few steps back and pushed the girl, who fell on her bed, surprised by the man's reaction.

"Don't you dare say that, I can hold my own, I can do everything by myself" as he spoke he staggered softly and pointed at her with anger and repudiation. "I am not like you… Of course not, I'm not a person who can't stand on his own, who needs someone to give him false declarations of love to feel enough. I will never be you." As his words went on, so did the woman's tears run down her cheeks. Although Satoru's voice was slightly stuttering, he could not hide his hatred for the young woman.

Seconds passed in silence, Y/n staring painfully at Satoru, as he stood in front of her face; the man sketched a smile and grabbed her cheeks, being drunk and angry he did not mediate his strength.

"Look at you, youre weak, I am your weakness and I always will be. No matter how many times I use you and discard you at dawn; you will always return to my call, isn't that sweet?" He ended with a chuckle as he roughly wiped away the young girl's tears.

Y/n felt humiliated by her great love. She looked at him with tears in her eyes and with the little strength she had, she removed her dirty hands from his face, took her own hands to that area, backed as far as she could on her bed and began to whisper.

"Get out of here..." she could barely understand herself, but she knew that he was listening to her, who only approached her with slow steps and a smile on his face.

"I didn't hear you, can you repeat that?" he spoke with sarcasm in his voice, thanks to the liquor in his system.

The young woman gritted her teeth and smeared her nails on the palm of her hand, to look at him with the same hatred he was directing at her.

"I said go away!" she shouted as she threw a pillow at the man's face. "You're not strong, you're nobody to come and say all that to me and in my own house! Or don't you remember who was there for you after what happened with Suguru? Who was feeding you? Because you were so depressed you could hardly speak. Or that you don't remember" finally y/n was able to respond to his attack. "You and I are the same, Satoru" She finished by unburdening herself a little with him, who had a face of stupefaction and regret. They spent a few minutes in that position, both standing there staring at each other, with many things to say but not wanting to fight anymore.

Y/n broke the silence, with a whisper-like murmur, his voice trembling from the crying produced by the albino.

"I think you'd better leave, Gojo" he in response turned on his heels and walked out of her room, then out of her house. And that was when she was finally able to let out her pent-up emotions, crying for a long time.

She still couldn't believe Gojo's cynicism, and it pained her to know that everything he said was true, "drunks and children don't lie".

uploaded 28/11/2023 ; 3:41 pm like and repost if you like it !!!

[dreamwritesimagines]

Garden of Secrets - Extra Scene 3

Married.

He was married now.

Benedict hadn’t stopped pacing in the room ever since he and Charlie had got there in order to get away from the chaos of the hundreds of guests his family had apparently decided to invite to the wedding breakfast. Judging by the way his wife of two hours had walked away from him the moment they had reached the house-

His wife.

Jesus Christ.

He still couldn’t believe they were actually married. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on, and when he first saw her walk down the aisle, he was quite certain that this was a dream.

Now he understood how Paris felt in the presence of Helen.

Or how mere mortals felt in the presence of Venus, for that matter.

“She—she married me,” Benedict said and Charlotte absentmindedly turned a page in his sketch book, barely casting him a glance. If it were any other time, he would have asked her opinion on his latest sketches but now—

Now he couldn’t even bring himself to worry about whether his sketches looked good or not.

“I know Benny,” she said. “I was there, as the maid of honor.”

“I’m a married man now.”

“Yes you are.”

“To her.”

“Mm hm.”

Dear God, it felt as if the room was getting warmer by the second. His hand shot up to loosen his cravat a little and he took a deep breath.

“I don’t know the first thing about being a good husband, how did I—” he pointed at the door. “Goddamn Anthony was supposed to marry first, not me!”

Charlotte looked up from the sketchbook and thought for a moment, then shrugged her shoulders.

“He will when he falls in love,” she said, crossing her legs as she laid on her back, holding the sketchbook up so that she could see the pages while lying down on the sofa. “Why are you panicking?”

“I’m not!”

“Yes you are—aw Benny! You sketched her!”

Benedict pressed his palms on his eyes, then dropped his hands.

“Charlie.”

“Yes?”

“What if I turn out to be a terrible husband?”

Charlotte lowered the sketchbook to shoot him a glance.

“I don’t really know much about terrible husbands,” she said. “I haven’t seen or heard about what they do.”

“And you will not,” Benedict said. “Your future husband has to talk to me after your father.”

Charlotte shrugged her shoulders again. “I’ll make sure to let him know,” she said airily and smiled when she turned the page. “Has she seen these?”

Benedict swallowed thickly and shook his head. “No.”

“You should show her!”

“…Yeah maybe later.”

“I think she’d like it,” Charlotte said. “I mean look at all this, it’s like—"

“Charlie,” Benedict cut her off. “I mean it. What if I’m a terrible husband and she hates me?”

Charlotte rolled her eyes and sat up in the sofa. “She could never hate you Benny, you two are in love!”

Benedict’s heart skipped a beat as guilt washed over him just like it did every time he had to lie to Charlotte. He knew he had to, Anthony had given him an earful when he had figured out he hadn’t told Charlotte the story about his sudden engagement but…

He couldn’t find it in him to break Charlotte’s heart with it.

“Yeah,” he managed to say. “We are but— what if she wasn’t?”

“What if she wasn’t in love with you?” Charlotte scoffed a laugh. “Well then she wouldn’t have married you, easy as that.”

Right.

It was supposed to be as easy as that for sure.

“I honestly don’t understand why you’re so stressed about this,” Charlotte said. “You love her, do you not?”

“Of course I love her,” he said, without even a second of hesitation and Charlotte motioned at him.

“There you go.”

Truth to be told, Benedict could hardly believe there was a time when he wasn’t in love with her, when he had no idea of her existence. It was as if his whole life before her was a waste; or merely the waiting process until meeting her.

It felt absurd, really. All this time he had read about love, tried to paint it, tried to understand it while she was right there, hidden away from his gaze until just a couple of months ago.

And he still couldn’t tell whether she loved him, or whether she would love him. It was nearly torment as she told him it would be, yet he still couldn’t help but hope...

That she would love him.

He was no fool, he could see that the desire was there. Even before their kiss in the garden or their first dance; it had been there for a while. That fire he was feeling whenever he so much as looked at her or inhaled her scent or touched her hand, even in those stolen moments where her glare turned into a tentative softness—

But that wasn’t love.

And today something had changed.

At the chapel and even on the way back home, he could see that she was trembling and it had taken his all willpower not to hold her. She had more or less thrown herself out of the carriage as soon as it had stopped, and the message was clear as day. Benedict had a feeling that pushing her to talk would backfire terribly no matter how much he wanted otherwise, and he knew her well enough to know that she wasn’t going to tell him anything until she wanted to do so.

He had hoped she would at least start trusting him a little after saying their vows but so far, this whole day had proved him otherwise.

He ran his hand through his hair and let out a breath.

“Has she told you anything?” Benedict asked and Charlotte looked up from the sketches.

“Hm?”

“Has she told you anything today? Before the wedding or after?”

“Well I’ve barely had the chance to talk to her after the wedding because you dragged me here,” she reminded him. “And before…I don’t know, she was just nervous. Who wouldn’t be?”

“Right,” he said as he started pacing again. “I feel like I should’ve read books or something.”

“On what?”

“How to be a good husband, I’m sure some idiot somewhere wrote a manual about it.”

“I don’t think you need a manual.”

“It certainly feels like I need a manual,” Benedict said as he brushed a hand over his face. “Half of the time I can’t even tell what she’s thinking, and now we’re married and some day I will say the wrong thing or do something wrong on accident and will lose her forever—”

“Benny,” Charlotte cut him off. “Stop. Just answer me one thing.”

“What?”

“You’re in love with her, yes?”

“She’s the love of my life.”

“And you’d do anything for her?”

“Anything. I would die for her.”

Charlotte repressed a smile and tilted her head.

“And you want to make her happy?”

“There’s nothing I want more in life,” Benedict said and shook his head. “Everything else but her comes second.”

Charlotte thought for a moment and shrugged her shoulders.

“Sounds like something a good husband would say or think,” she stated. “I think you’ll do just fine, and you know how I’m always right about everything.”

Benedict felt a small smile pull at his lips. “Thanks Charlie.”

“Anytime,” she said with a grin and turned her head when someone knocked on the door.

“Ben?” Colin’s voice carried into the room before the door opened. “Lottie, hello. Ben you’re needed, come with me.”

Benedict heaved a sigh. “I greeted almost everyone downstairs—”

“It’s not the guests.”

Benedict pulled his brows together. “What? Who then?”

Colin cleared his throat and pointed back with his thumb. “Your wife just passed out.”

Benedict’s heart dropped, his breath getting caught in his throat and he stared at Colin for a moment before rushing past him out of the room with Charlotte following him suit.

[ageingfangirl2]

A Reason To Come Back! Shanks (OPLA) Part 2

Reader is a mermaid who washed up close to death in Luffy's village and made a home for themselves. Shanks comes back and tries to convince y/n to join his crew. Shanks x Female Reader.

Part 1

Y/N

'Then join my crew!' Shanks said in a carefree manner.

That was four months ago, you didn't quite believe Shanks would go through with his promise, so you said yes.

After that first meeting, you went back to the tavern with Shanks to meet the rest of his crew, after stopping at your house to get some dry clothes. Shanks had so many questions about mermaids just like Luffy did and you tried to answer all of them. Maybe Luffy was right about him being a good guy, he gave off the vibe of someone you could trust but wouldn't want to cross.

You were nervous meeting the rest of his crew since pirates were primarily male, but they quickly put you at ease and were amazed at just how much booze you could put away, turns out that was a pro of being a mermaid. One of the newer crew tried to hit on you and it was then you revealed apparently what Shanks suspected when he heard you laugh, and that was your ability to compel. Let's just say the rest of the crew would never let the guy live down the humiliation you put him through.

Before he went to bed Shanks told Luffy of the promise he'd made to you. At first, the boy was upset that you wouldn't be joining his crew but was happy you'd both be pirates one day.

It did feel nice to let loose, laugh and have fun around others. And Shanks kept his eye on you the whole night. Maybe returning to the sea one day might just happen for you. You sketched a rough drawing of the jolly roger you'd seen during your escape, and it turned out Shanks and his crew didn't like that crew already so were all on board to help you.

During those four months, you kept yourself busy, fishing, helping around the village and keeping an eye on Luffy. You also had started putting things aside in case Shanks kept his promise and you had to join his crew which didn't seem that bad.

Today you'd just finished swimming and were returning to your house when you saw a familiar red-haired pirate sitting on your porch.

'SHANKS!' you call out.

SHANKS

I should have known y/n wouldn't be at home. They weren't in town when we arrived so I assumed they were swimming in the cove. Other than Luffy and myself no one else had been to the cove to see her mermaid form, it was her private space.

'SHANKS!' y/n calls out.

I look up to see the red-haired girl walking up the path towards me smiling and dripping wet. It was very unusual to see someone with the same hair colour as myself but y/n explained mermaids either got the colour from their mother or father or could get a mixture of both but y/n got her mother's red hair and tail.

I stand up and embrace y/n, who hugs me back. She was a lot smaller than me, but that didn't mean you should underestimate her, 'I told you I'd come back. You get younger each time I see you.'

y/n blushes at the compliment and playfully shoves me back, 'How old do you think I am Shanks?'

My face drops, this was a trap women liked to set to trip men up, 'err I don't know maybe early twenties.'

y/n grins, 'Such a charmer, we're the same age Shanks, mermaids just age slower and appear more youthful.'

I was shocked by her answer but also relieved. I said the early twenties to not sound awful when y/n could easily pass for eighteen or nineteen. At least we wouldn't have a kid on the crew with us.

'I didn't come to ask your age y/n, I came because I have something for you.'

y/n tilts their head and their eyes widen, 'what do you have for me? How's the arm by the way? Still getting used to only having one?'

Before leaving last time I'd lost my arm rescuing Luffy. I had no regrets and would do it again. It was tough but I was slowly adapting.

'Some days are harder than others but it will take time,' I reply honestly.

I reach behind me and under my cloak pull a wrapped-up piece of black fabric before handing it to y/n. y/n slowly unwraps the fabric and gasps loudly.

'You did it Shanks...this is the jolly roger I saw...thank you...' y/n stumbles over their words, tears pricking their eyes, 'what happened?'

It warmed my heart to see her get happy and emotional staring at the flag belonging to the ship that killed her family, 'they had a lot of enemies, and my crew simply pinned them against each other until they were no more. You're free to return to the sea y/n.'

y/n puts the flag down and throws themselves at me, causing me to grunt at the sudden impact but y/n wasn't that heavy so I was able to catch her as she hugged and clung onto me, 'you kept your end up so I'll keep mine, looks like I'm joining your crew Shanks.'

I laugh and put y/n down, 'Welcome to The Red Hair Pirates. I think you'll fit in nicely.'

It turned out that y/n was already packed, ready for the day to arrive. The rest of the crew and Luffy were waiting at the tavern, so we headed down there with y/n's belongings.

'I'M GOING TO MISS YOU SO MUCH Y/N!' Luffy shouts in y/n's face as soon as we enter the tavern, but y/n simply smiles and ruffles his hair not fazed by the loudness.

'I'm going to miss you more,' y/n replies and squeezes his cheek.

I clear my throat behind them and they both look up at me, 'What about me Luffy, won't you miss me?'

Luffy grins like an idiot, 'Of course, I'll miss you Shanks, you made me want to become a pirate but how many mermaids am I going to meet in my life?'

y/n sniggers, 'and since I'm now a pirate mermaid I guess you're number two in his eyes Shanks or should I say, captain.'

I roll my eyes but embrace the situation. Things were going to be a lot more interesting with y/n on the crew.