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#but instead all I can do is look at the VERY few pictures I have of him
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ARTISTS! PICREW FOLKS! ECT!
I have a challenge.
I am going to, using my magical powers of description and poetic word choice, describe myself.
You should try to draw/make me based on what I describe and mention me in the post/reblog this post with the picture!
No pressure but if you see this and aren't an artist but know someone who may be, perhaps reblog and mention them? Just if you don't mind :)
However, do not (and I can't stress this enough) use AI art for this. I do not support the use of AI art at all and I do not want to interact with jt whatsoever
(it's gonna be in the third person bc I can write like that better)
(also sorry for my weird similies)
He stood there in front of the mirror, somehwat awkwardly, observing himself. He was 5'6 - no idea why he had that memorized, but oh well - and built like a tree. That is, if that tree was in fact not a tree but a stick with limbs. He had Fluffy red hair that fell to his shoulders when it was wet but rested normally a few inches above. How he hated that hair; Utterly untameable and never sat quite right. He had disproportionately long legs, not so much that it stood out normally, but if it was mentioned you could see it and when wearing skirts or shorts his long expanse of leg seemed to stretch on forever. He had very little muscle, and as he flexed experimentally in the mirror, he snorted - He looked like he was built with pencils. His shoulders and hips were the same width, that is to say quite narrow and somewhat awkwardly thin; it matched the rest of him, but he couldn't help but wish that he was bulkier. His neck was functional if not a little short. Attached to it, as with most humanoids, was his head. He wore thick rimmed round glasses both because they had to be with how thick his lenses were and they hid more of his face, which he was quite insecure about anyway. His ears were ever so slightly uneven, leading to his glasses never quite sitting right on his face and usually resting on his nose. Oh, his nose; the only thing he didn't despise about his face. Not that it was a specifically good nose - One of the nostrils were a bit bigger than the other and it was sort of small - but it looked the least weird out of all his facial features. Resting below his nose was a septum ring, the same black one he'd had on since he got the piercing only because he couldn't be bothered to change it. Continuing down past his lightly freckled face was his mouth, as was to be expected. He had pale lips to match his equally pale skin, the two only differentiated by a slight pink tinge on the former and the assumption that he was not in fact a snake and did have lips. He had eyebrows slightly darker than his hair, although to tell the truth he sometimes would use mascara to make them darker because of his fragile masculinity and his need to fit traditional male standards of appearance so as not to be misgendered. His face overall was the shape of one of those Japanese watermelons that had started to become squared but only very barely before escaping its clear plastic prison. He wasn't insecure about his height, but that didn't stop him from always wearing platforms; he just liked how they looked. He was currently wearing his favorite outfit, consisting of a black tank top that went a few inches up his neck, an olive and dark green striped button up not fulfilling its namesake over top, and some pale dark green cargo pants. He hated wearing jewelry, as it was just one more thing to lose, but he always had on a chain with a gold ring holding a small clock face; His partner had asked him out with it, and he kept it with him because he knew if he set it down in his dump of a room it would be lost to the ether the second he looked away. He also had his ears pierced, but rarely wore earrings and instead always had on a pair of headphones to help with the constant anxiety from noise. He had tried to wear headphones with earrings in the past but found it extremely uncomfortable. As he stepped back from the mirror, he realized his internal monolog was extremely monotonous, and decided to stop observing himself.
Thank you to @annotated-catastrophe for the original idea!!!!
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hoardlikegoldenirises · 9 months
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something a little silly
(he's not actually angry at the "drugs" thing, just busy trying not to die)
oh i almost forgot
transcript of my bad handwriting:
Page 1 Panel 1: 2013, 1:38 pm (sfx: DING DING DING)
Panel 2: 9th period, 1:40 pm
Peter's internal thought bubble: "Oh shit my meds"
Panel 3:
Student 1: Hi, Mr. Parker!
Peter: mm-hm
Panel 4:
Student 1: Mr. Parker? Hello?
(Student 2: Huh?)
Panel 5:
Peter: Hm?
Student 1: What are those, tic tacs?
Student 2: No, he's doing drugs!!! (In class!)
Text pointing to Peter's hand holding his pills says "PTSD medication"
Peter: HKFGH (choking noise)
Page 2:
Panel 1:
Student 1: Are you okay?!
(Student 2: oh fuck)
Peter: COUGH COUGH
Panel 2:
(sfx: WHEEZE)
Peter: It's not DRUGS!
Panel 3, Peter cont.: Well, I mean, it is drugs, but it's prescription—it's medication. OK?
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Does anyone else process people’s faces in parts rather than as a whole?
 I notice a lot of the time I think people look alike when they’re not widely considered to actually look alike because what I’m really picking up on is ‘they have the same nostril shape’, or are similar in one specific area of the face, but not actually their face overall. Likewise, when people talk about ‘celebrity lookalikes’ or things like that, 90% of the time they do NOT look alike at all to me, because it’s like, yes maybe BROADLY their face is aligned similarly (like they have a similar amount of spacing between nose and mouth, eye placement, forehead size) and maybe the same hair color, but the features THEMSELVES individually do not actually look alike (different nose shape, eye curve, mouth width, teeth size, etc.). 
I’ve been thinking about the disparity in why my conceptualization of who looks alike or not seems so different from other people I talk to, and I think it’s maybe that I hone in on specific spots and see the face as like, a bunch of tiny features instead of seeing the whole.. It’s very hard for me to ‘zoom out’ and have an “overall summary” view,  instead my mind just perceives a collection of minor details but not one cohesive image, I guess? 
#WHICH actually makes sense considering that I also experience this weird thing.. I don't know how to describe it. It's like.. with every#person I talk to - once I've been around them enough- at some point I will be looking at them and I'll have this epiphany sort of#feeling like all of a sudden everything has fallen into place and I finally 'see their face for the first time'#I don't know how to explain but it's just like.. I'll be watching them talk or looking at them from afar or something and a#ll of a sudden my brain is just like 'OH... thats' WHAT YOU LOOK LIKE.. like#how you would look in a drivers lisence photo or somehting. how OTHERS would see you. how you look when people may just#pass you in a crowd. a zoomed out compilation of only the arrangement of your face. thats what you LOOK like.''#It's like I'm randomly able to see them from another perspective instead of my own (focusing in on little details of their face etc.)#I 'zoom out' and suddenly see them how they are and am able to understand that#And this can happen sometimes months or years after I've known someone. But it's not like I don't know what they look#like before then. I don't have face blindness or anything like. I can recognize people but it's just.. I usually recognize them#from a bunch of tiny little details compiled together as well as other information - instead of just having a quick easily referencable#'complete' image in my head of them. I wonder what this has to do with?? or is this normal?#I do have pretty strong aphantasia and can't form images in my head. maybe I recognize from details because it's not like#I can have distinct stored 'pictures' of what people look like. like if I think of the people I know right now I can't see any of them in#my mind at all. but I CAN cognitively know like a few specific details like 'upturned nose' mouth with slight curl at the end. small#square teeth. pointy nostils. etc. etc.' .. I know them when I see them of course. but I can't 'see' them actually without#them being in front of me or etc. Only recall the details that make up their face. OR also - So I don't have Autism as far as I know#(I could have been misdiagnosed but I think I have a combintion of other things that merely presents similarly in some ways) but I do have a#lot of similar symptoms/score very high on traits in psych testing/etc. and I saw a vdeo on youtube a while ago called 'Understanding Visual#Perceptions in Autism' or something and it talked about how autistic people may often focus in on details of an environment or very small#niche things rather than conceptualizing imagery as a whole (instead of seeing the whole room and thinking about what the room is#and the whole space you focus in on seeing one chair and thinking about the pattern of the fabric. etc.) Which I do aboslutely do that 100%#always so maybe it's just an extension of me percieving the world in that zoomed in 'details first' sort of way??#like if my brain works similarly to that then maybe Im kind of just doing the same thing with peoples faces as i would with viewing a room#ANYWAY . not sure if it's aphantasia or something else but I find it interesting how I seem to see that stuff differently than most people#I come across and if anyone else also views faces in this more fragmented small detail trait way. AND if so. why you think that is. etc. :0c
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prozach27 · 2 months
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ickadori · 6 months
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++ 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘
[summary] wrio missed his wife, and she missed him just as much. two simps in love.
[cws] fluff. fem reader -> wriothesley’s wife. reader is a mondstadt native. kissing.
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Wriothesley’s cup of tea pauses halfway to his mouth as there’s a knock at his office door. His fingers tighten unconsciously around the handle, that incessant throbbing at his temples that had been dying out suddenly tapping into its nth life.
He contemplates ignoring it; pretending he didn’t hear it and indulging in his fresh brew, but he’s never been one to shirk off his work, no matter how inconsequential the task.
He sets the cup down rougher than necessary, and the legs of his chair scrape loudly against the floor as he pushes it back from his desk and stands to his feet. Someone better be dead or on the verge.
It was an unspoken rule that Wriothesley wasn’t to be bothered at this time -a quarter after five until six- because it was official tea time, a very, very important time in his day that let the inhabitants in Meropide see his most agreeable side… although he had heard talk from a few gossipy guards and prisoners that his ‘pissy attitude’ this past month had nothing to do with his interrupted tea times, but rather that his wife had gone back to Mondstadt to visit family.
“You know how he gets when he doesn’t see her after a while—downright scary. I’ve never seen a man look so enraged and distraught at the same time.”
“He put me on pipe restoration duty —don’t laugh, it isn’t funny! Worst job in the whole place, I swear— for the next six months all because my wife dropped by with a bento on my break. Apparently no one can be happy when his missus is away.”
“I caught him staring at her picture the other day, y’know the one he keeps in that chain around his neck, and sighing like some schoolgirl. I nearly thought my daughter had somehow gotten herself arrested and thrown down here when I heard all those lovesick sighs.”
It was all hearsay and speculation, of course. Wriothesley could manage just fine with you away - he was a grown man, a weathered man, a man who could function fully without the company of his wife.
That’s right, he thinks to himself. He’s been doing just fine in your absence, a bit quicker to anger than usual, but with the looming threat of being turned into a big, sopping puddle right below his feet, could you really blame him?
The door is wrenched open, strands of black and gray flying back from where they rested against his forehead due to the strong gust of wind he created.
“What is it now?” He nearly hisses out, but he manages to get a reign on it last minute, the words coming out a bit strained instead. He eyes the guard standing in front of him, their eyes flitting between the crease between his brows and the floor. “Spit it out before I—”
He stops abruptly when he hears a voice that he knows intimately well, and had he possessed any shame when it came publicly displaying the love he harbored for you, he would have been a touch embarrassed at the speed of which his frown smoothed out and the throbbing in his head disappeared, a sparkle in his eyes as his shoulders lose a bit of their tension.
“Oh? He has? Thank you for telling me, Sigewinne. I’ll get right on that.” You come rounding the corner with the small doctor at your side, a knapsack in your hands, and had Wriothesley been any less sane, he would have swore that he could feel the rays of the sunshine beaming down on his skin and fresh air filtering into his lungs when you turned your gaze to him, scornful as it was.
You’re fitted in a dress that’s customary for the women in your homeland to wear, and flowers are weaved into your hair, and the ring on your finger seems to shine a bit brighter.
“Wriothesley.” You march up to him, eyebrows knitted together, and push your finger against his chest. “What is this I hear about you acting like a tyrant?”
“You look beautiful.” He breathes out.
“And going to the Pankration ring? You know those poor people don’t stand a chance against you. That’s just bullying.”
“Let me take your bag, it looks heavy.”
“And you haven’t been eating right, either! Look at your face — you’ve lost weight!” He transfers the bag from your hands to his, and when his fingers brush against yours, he finally lets a smile bloom on his face, being met with a huff. “Don’t smile at me. I’m mad at you.”
“Can’t help it, happy to see you.” You falter a bit, corners of your lips twitching, but you hold strong, choosing to save face in front of the onlookers—always put up a good fight, especially when others are looking, is what he had told you once upon a time. “I’ve missed you so much.” It comes out in a low murmur, eyes locked onto yours and refusing to stray, even when you decide that his gaze is a bit too heavy for the setting and avert your own.
“I-well-you…just get inside your office.”
He’s nice enough to hold back a chuckle, instead stepping to the side so that you can shuffle past him and inside. Before he shuts the door, his gaze turns icy and his smile thins out as he lets his eyes sweep over everyone present. A resounding groan is heard, the unspoken promise loud and clear, and then he’s pushing the door shut and turning on his heel.
You’re on him in a second, arms wrapped around his waist as you bury your face into his chest. He returns the hug just as quick, thick, burly arms circling around your shoulders as his head dips down so he can stuff his nose into your hair and breathe your scent in.
Your voice comes out muffled as you try to speak, and he loosens his hold on you a bit, allowing you to pop your head up so you can look up at him. There’s a halfhearted pout on your lips, and his response is a reflex as he leans down to give you a peck once, twice, three times before moving on to place one on the tip of your nose.
“You were supposed to let me scold you out there, birdie. Now everyone’s gonna know that I let you off easy.”
“Let me off easy? I’d say this is the meanest you’ve ever been to me,” he gives an exaggerated expression of hurt. “You haven’t even told me you missed me, or that you’re happy to see me, or that you’ll never leave again because you couldn’t stand being away from me.”
“You’re so dramatic.” You smile despite yourself, and he kisses you again, scarred hands moving to cradle your cheeks. You part with a gasp for air, and its his turn to smile when you stretch up to reconnect your lips, the lack of air not deterring you in the slightest.
“Breathe, sweetheart…” He rasps against your lips, and you suck in a breath, eyes slowly blinking as you tug at the material of his shirt. There’s a rush of emotions that washes over him at the unspoken confirmation that you missed him just as much as he had missed you, and he lets his hands wander down to settle on your waist, fingers flexing as they squeeze at the flesh there through the material of your dress.
“Well, well, well,” he starts, and you blink out of your stupor to don a guilty expression. “Looks like you haven’t been eating right, either, hypocrite.” He lightly pinches at your side, and you squeal out a laugh as you lightly bat at his hand.
“Have I told you that I missed you, and that I’m sooo happy to see you, and that I’ll never, ever leave again because I can’t stand being away from you?” You flutter your lashes up at him, direct that heart-stopping smile up at him, and for a split second he thinks that the primordial sea has broken the seal and reduced him to nothing but a puddle at your feet.
“Careful now, words like that are liable to kill a man, and this place isn’t fitting for a sweet girl like you.”
“Oh? Then maybe I should leave earlier than I intended t—” He quiets you with a kiss, and you laugh into it, earning a gentle nip on your bottom lip. Your teasing smile settles into something sweeter, tender, vulnerable, and it mirrors him perfectly.
You both speak your next words in unison.
“I missed you.”
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yandere-daydreams · 4 months
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Not-So-Scary Moments With The Yan. Genshin Boys (Sumeru + Fontaine Edition).
Characters: Alhaitham, Neuvillette, Kaveh, Tighnari, Cyno, and Wriothesley.
Word Count: 2.7k.
TW: Borderline Shitposting, Prolonged Imprisonment, Varying Levels of Emotional and Physical Abuse, Codependency, Mentions of Stalking, and Unhealthy Relationships.
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Alhaitham
It took Alhaitham about ten minutes to drag himself out of bed, his staggered footsteps audible through the thin walls of his apartment.
It took twenty for him to haul himself through his morning routine – water running somewhere in the distance and porcelain clattering against marble countertops as he washed his face and tried to work some life into himself. Alhaitham usually wasn’t so lethargic, but he’d had a rough week. There’d been a sudden influx of paperwork for the Akademiya’s sole scribe, and every second he didn’t spend buried under new legislation and requests for increased budging was, instead, dedicated to one of his many personal research projects. By the time he’d gotten home last night, it’d been all he could do to make sure you hadn’t starved to death and drag himself to bed.
He usually would’ve kept you waiting for a few more minutes, but an agitated grunt marked an end to his normal patterns. In a moment, he was braced against the doorway to his own study, his eyes narrowed half-hearted towards where you sat in his leather-padded chair, your feet propped on his desk. There was an book open in your lap – one of his, something about metaphysics and ley line abnormalities and how both tied into the Inazuman politics. He eyed it wearily before speaking, his voice still deep with exhaustion. “Where did you put my hearing aids?”
His tone was accusatory, his irritation visible. You put on your sweetest smile. “Where did you put my novellas?” you signed, thinking for a moment before adding, “Bitch?”
“They aren’t ‘novellas’, they’re—” He cut himself off with a scoff. “They’re filth. I don’t want you rotting your brain with smut.”
“The plots are very—”
“The plots are half-baked excuses for paper-thin characters to fondle each other in locations you can tell the author didn’t take the time to properly research and—” His gaze flickered to you, his frown deepening. “Why are you smiling like that?”
“You’ve read them?”
There was a long beat of silence.
Finally, he let out a labored sigh. “The dozen or so I couldn’t be bothered to throw away are in a cabinet underneath the kitchen sink. It’s locked – the code is your birthday. Now, where are my aids?”
“You fell asleep with them on last night,” you said aloud, abandoning his glorified textbook and pushing yourself to your feet. His hand shot to the side of his head, finding the metallic cuff only slightly displaced by having spent the better half of the night on his head. As you passed him, you paused, pressing a kiss into the corner of his scowl and pretending to ignore the muffled groan he let out in response.
Neuvillette
Of all the sights you thought you might see after arriving in your wonderous new nation, the Iudex of Fontaine standing over your drained bathtub with a look of potent remorse written across his expression was not one of them.
You’d imagined yourself strolling through the walls of the Opera Epiclese in vivid detail, been able to picture exactly what you might’ve seen standing below the Tower of Ipsissimus or above the bottomless pit that was the entrance to the Fortress of Meropide, but even after you’d found yourself in the smothering care of Monsieur Neuvillette, you never would’ve been able to conjure this sight. He usually insisted that you bathe together, going so far as to have an in-ground tub that could’ve easily been mistaken for a hot spring installed in his (until recently neglected) personal residence to better indulge the habit. Thankfully, the trial he’d been presiding over had run long today, and you’d been able to save yourself an hour of his calloused hands running over your body, of his eyes burning into your skin with a nearly inhuman focus. You knew he’d be disappointed. Irate, even, depending on how his trial swung.
You hadn’t expected him to be so… sulky about it.
Half-lidded eyes, a slight pout tugging at the corner of his lips as he lingered idly in the doorway between your shared bedroom and the in-suite bathroom. Steam and silence laid heavy in the air – the latter you were eventually forced to break as you fiddled with the hem of your robe. “I’m sorry,” you muttered, hoping more to break the tension than to make him think you were genuinely apologetic. “It was getting late, and I didn’t know when you were coming home. I didn’t think you’d take it so personally.” When he didn’t respond, you braced yourself for the worst. “If you’re angry, please say so. I… I’d rather get this over with now, if it’s all the same to you.”
His expression softened. He let out an airy sigh and, with only a moment of hesitation, closed the space between you. “I’m not angry.” A pair of lean arms wrapped around your waist, his face soon buried in the crook of your neck. You heard him inhale, and did what you could to suppress the shudder that ran up your spine at the thought of him basking in your scent. “I’ve just been… looking forward to it, I suppose. Your taste relaxes me.”
Immediately, you went rigid. “My… taste?”
“Mhm.”
“Neuvillette,” you started, very slowly, giving your own mind time to catch up to the dread slowly building in the pit of your stomach. “Have you been drinking my bathwater?”
He was quiet for a not inconsiderable amount of time.
Finally, he pulled away from you just far enough to speak. “…no?”
For your own sake, you decided to believe him.
Kaveh
“Kaveh.”
“Not now, treasure.”
“Go to bed.”
“I will, in another hour.”
“You need to get some sleep.”
“I’ve already told you – I’m fine.” He narrowed his eyes, expression contorted by concentration. “Knight to B4.”
“Kaveh,” you repeated, leaning across the table. “You were showing me your blueprints.”
“Oh.” He blinked several times, looking over the sheet of blue paper marked with chalk drawings and near indecipherable hand-writing. “Were you impressed?”
Your frown irked, but you swallowed back your exasperation and pushed yourself to your feet. Slowly, you took him by the hand and, when he failed to protest, guided him out of his own seat and towards the room you were usually restrained to, when he wasn’t home. He’d kept himself awake for the past two nights, every moment of the past forty-eight hours devoted to finishing his proposal for a wealthy commissioner’s summer mansion before its upcoming deadline and, now that the coffee had been drained from his system and his adrenaline had been given time to fade, he was practically a shell of a man – all dark circles and hunched posture and disheveled blonde hair.
Sleep deprivation was, by far, the worst thing he could inflict on himself. At least he was happy after he drunk himself into oblivion. This was just depressing; as miserable for him as it was for you.
With a dutifulness you shouldn’t have had to show to your lover-turned-stalker-turned-captor, you brought him to his bed and watched as he collapsed onto it, what little strength he had to hold himself up immediately dissolving. With a sigh, a roll of your eyes, you turned to leave, but a hand lashed out from the crumpled heap and caught you by the wrist. “Stay with me?” His voice was muffled by layers of sheets and blankets, but clear enough. “Please?”
Usually, his bids for affection were met with bitter neutrality or, on your worse days, spiteful condensation. Usually, you would’ve torn yourself out of his hold and made sure he knew that he’d ruined any chance of living out his little domestic fantasy the second he decided his obsession was worth more than your happiness. Usually, you would’ve hated him that much more for daring to ask.
But, he could barely hold his eyes open and when you failed to immediately recoil, the sloppiest, most lovesick smile you’d ever seen plastered itself across his lips. It was his turn to pull you forward, this time; to drag you onto his bed and into his chest. With a satisfied sigh, he slotted his chin against the dip of your shoulder and draped his arms around your waist – an old position. A relic of better times you’d never been strong enough to completely dicard. “When it’s time to draw up the plans for our home,” he mumbled, only half-audible. “I won’t so much as breathe until its perfect.”
You opened your mouth, but didn’t say anything.
He’d already fallen asleep.
Tighnari
He glanced once at the thick packet of ink-marked parchment you’d slammed in front of him before looking back to you, his expression disparaging. “And this is supposed to be…?”
“A custody agreement,” you answered, grinning. “Alhaitham put it together during his last visit.”
“We don’t have any kids.”
“It’s for Collei. If I ever leave you,” and, to be clear, you would be leaving him, as soon as you figured out how to get away from a man who poisoned your tea whenever you so much as suggested entertaining a future that didn’t include him, “I want weekends and summers.”
“She’s nineteen.”
“Which is why we’re letting her pick who she wants to spend holidays with.” You tapped the front page with your knuckles. “Honestly, dear, if you weren’t going to so much as read the documents, we could’ve scheduled this for another day.”
His ears twitched, his tail sweeping across the floor in irritation. “Even if this was legally binding – which, by the way, something assembled by a scribe would not be – I would never give you weekends. That’d be too much travelling for a girl in her condition, and I don’t want her to feel like she comes from a broken home. Moreover, according to Regulation #531 as passed by the Grand Sage last year, you would have to get Collei’s signature before—”
“Check page twenty-seven.”
You watched him scowl as he thumbed through the pages. A second later, his ears flattened against his scalp, and he took to muttering under his breath. “Traitor.”
“If you don’t want your aggression towards the dependent party used against you in court, I’d suggest you sign on page four, seventeen, and thirty-two.”
You left his villa half an hour later with a with a new imprint of his fangs on the side of your throat and a signed document in-hand.
Cyno
“You have kidnapped me.”
“Technically, I was only—”
“You’ve blackmailed me, imprisoned me, and tortured me.”
“You can’t still be hung up on—”
“You’ve branded me with your name, forced me into your bed, and made me play out all your delusional, fucked-up fantasies—” You took a deep breath, pursed your lips. “—but if you show up to a black-tie event wearing that, it will be the worst thing you’ve ever done to me.”
He looked down, as if considering his attire for the first time. He was in his usual uniform – which was to say, shirtless and barefoot, his hair windblown and a fine layer of sand still coating what little he was wearing. You could only be thankful his polearm wasn’t slung across his back, but you knew he’d make it past the door without it. “The way I dress has never been a problem before.”
“There’s a difference between hunting down rouge scholars and going to a banquet being held by a literal god. Archons, Lesser Lord Kusanali herself might be there.” You gasped, dragged your hands over your face. “Everyone who’s ever gone to the Akademiya will absolutely be there.”
For all his many faults, he could never stand to see you in pain. There was a brief delay, a moment of unsure shuffling, then his arms were wrapping around you, his chest slotting against your back has he pulled you against him. “It’ll be alright,” he muttered, speaking into your shoulder. “If anyone so much as attempts to insult you—no, if anyone tries to talk to you at all, I’ll strike them down in the blink of an eyes.”
His comfort was stale, but you forced yourself to relax. At least enough to speak. “You know,” you mumbled, letting your hands drift to your temples. “Dehya was hired by an up-and-coming scholar, a few weeks ago. I’m not sure how long her contract was, but there’s a chance we’ll see her tonight.”
There was a beat of silence, then another.
“Cyno?”
“I’ll change.”
Wriothesley
You could hear him trudging up the metallic stairs to his office; his footsteps heavy enough to drown out the soft music flowing out of his century-old gramophone. His head emerged from the curving staircase, first – his hair somehow more disheveled than its usual state of barely-tamed chaos – then his chest, his tie undone and his collar terribly mangled, as if he’d spent all day indulging the worst of his nervous habits. He was baring his teeth, his pale cheeks flushed with anger and his eyes narrowed into a pointed glare. It wasn’t quite the reaction you’d hoped for (in your wildest dreams, he would’ve managed to sink his beloved fortress before he ever reached you), but it was close enough.
You moved to stand, to greet him with the warm embrace he usually demanded, but he was already in front of you, already pinning you to the back of the lounge you’d been splayed across with a single fist planted less than a hair’s width above your shoulder. “You,” he growled, leaning in close enough for his breath to fan over your skin. “Do you know how many journalistsI had to deal with today? They were everywhere. I couldn’t go a step without tripping over some— over some glorified tabloid.”
“So, your meeting with Monsieur Neuvillette went well?” His scowl deepened, and you let out your most faux innocent laugh – a chiming, bubbling thing he’d never been able to stand. “You shouldn’t scowl like that, love. All those photographers will have to find a new model if you manage to give yourself frown lines.”
He jolted, but forced himself to shut his eyes, to let out a long, ragged breath. When he did face you again, he’d regained a degree of his composure – just enough to meet your smile with his own tight-lipped grin, more teeth than anything. “I’ll let you off easy if you tell me how you did it now. Before I decide it’d be faster to strangle an explanation out of you.”
“I didn’t break any rules, if that’s what you’re worried about.” You paused, folded your hands over your lap. “It was all thanks to our great and benevolent duke. Contacting people outside of the fortress has gotten so much more efficient ever since you decided prisoners should be able to send letters without administrative vetting.”
He buckled visibly, his shoulders falling as he lean towards you, his face soon buried in the dip of your shoulder. “You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.” There was a raspy chuckle, a hand on your thigh, squeezing just hard enough for his anger to shine through the playfulness of the gesture. “I think I’ve earned the rest of the day off, and I think you’ve earned—”
The door to his office swung open before he could finish, a masculine voice calling up from the voice below only a moment later. “Your grace, t-there’s a reporter here to see you! She says she’s been told not to leave until she speaks to your partner!”
“That’ll be Charlotte,” you half-sung. “She seemed like such a nice girl in her letters. It’d be a shame to keep her waiting.”
When he failed to answer, you brought up both hands and cupped his face, cooing as you used your thumbs to quirk the corners of his mouth upward.
“Just remember to smile for the camera this time, alright?”
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beegalactica · 1 month
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hot girl tips to be more productive
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With a million things to do, where do we find the time? Sometimes it can be so easy to just procrastinate, not do your work and keep pushing it back till it's too late. Let's not do that anymore.
5-minute rule - start small. If you've been putting something off for a long time, trying to commit 1 hour to it can be challenging. You can't do a marathon without a warm-up first! Could you set a timer for 5 minutes to do that task? After 5 minutes if you want to continue, go for it; if you don't, that's okay, because at least you've done 5 minutes today, which is better than 0. Tomorrow or later in the day, try to challenge yourself to do 7 minutes this time, then 10, then 15, and you will get into that rhythm.
Eliminate distractions - it's all because of that damn phone 🙄 but seriously, tech and social media can have such a tight grip over our productivity and our attention. If you cannot control your usage, set app timers that lock the app after you use it for a certain amount of time or delete the app. I've been using a minimalist phone launcher called 'OLauncher' that removes all my icons and makes me manually have to type and search for the app. In the time it takes me to search for the app, I get to ask myself, "What am I looking for? Do I need to use it for something specific or do I just want to scroll?"
Schedule properly - note down all your commitments and non-negotiables in an app like Google Calendar and make sure all your big events are displayed there. Some people can fall into the habit of planning every second of their day, but I instead delegate a few tasks to each day and give myself any time within the day to complete them, the important thing being not when I do them, but that I do them in the end.
Write to-do lists - now this doesn't just mean in-app lists, which are very useful. Physically write them out. I use a scrap piece of paper and I write: "Today I WILL..." and then list all the things I want to get done. Having it written down helps me commit to it more and the feeling of ticking it is so satisfying.
Know your WHY - Why are you doing this? Why do you want to be more productive? Why do you want to study more? Always look at the bigger picture. Where do you want to be and how will your productivity help you get there?
Celebrate your wins - whether you completed all the things on your to-do list or just one, be proud of it. Some days, you will feel super motivated and fly through all your tasks, and other days you just want to stay in bed and do nothing. Making an effort is the first step to your success.
No matter whether your goal is to complete a project, get good grades, get into the school of your dreams, or just get your work out of the way so you can focus on other things, tackle it little by little. Just 20 minutes every day for a week is better than trying to do 140 minutes worth of work on the last day.
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ms-demeanor · 25 days
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Hello,Do you have any tips for recovering from internet brain rot? It's like my patience has dried up and if there's a huge amount of text (even about topics I'm very interested in) that I have to read, I get annoyed and just don't interact with the material at all.
I have multiple tips!
TL;DR (Because of course I generated a wall of text): Take a break from the internet, create a schedule for getting yourself used to reading longer texts, take breaks while reading, and perhaps reconsider how you interact with The Internet and the world in general.
Here are the basic "to reduce the brain rot just don't interact" tips:
Take a break. Give yourself time off from The Internet (for these purposes The Internet is the social media industrial complex; clickbait news, recommended videos, social media sites, etc. You don't have to totally check out of email or your local news site, just get away from the huge time sucks). I'd say to take at least one day a week where you're online for less than an hour a day, and to maybe work up to doing a week-long break from whatever the main agents of rot are.
Once you've identified the main agents of rot, give yourself a time limit or set up rules for yourself. I don't let myself look at social media in bed, for instance; no staying up late on my phone, no scrolling before I get up and start my day. I don't give myself a strict time limit anymore, but for a while there I was very firm about "you only get to go online 4 hours a day" with myself.
Don't comment (or at least only share the things you really want to share). If you feel the need to argue, or if you feel pressured into sharing something, don't. Step back, maybe even open the post in a new tab or send it to yourself, and come back later. If you've been thinking about it and have decided it IS something you care enough to talk about, share it. If you look at the tab and feel stressed out or still feel reactive, close the tab and walk away.
Go out and interact with the real world in a non-work capacity for a few hours a week; take walks or go shopping or go out and take pictures of insects. Touch grass so that The Internet is not the only thing you're doing with your downtime.
Here are the "work on reading longer texts specifically" tips:
Set a reading goal for yourself. Maybe you want to read one New Yorker article a week, maybe you want to read all the way through news articles, maybe you want to read novels like you used to in high school. Figure out what your actual goal is and articulate that goal to yourself.
Set up a practice schedule and gradually increase the amount of time you're reading. Don't go from short tumblr posts to a novella, go from short tumblr posts to slightly longer news articles, then to slightly longer essays, then to a novella. You can do this in literal paragraphs if you want to - maybe your goal for your first day is to read five paragraphs in a row, and the second day is seven, and the third day is ten, etc, until you are comfortably reading for longer amounts of time without counting paragraphs. (Try this with books from gutenberg.org; read a classic you haven't read a few paragraphs at a time and if you find yourself going over your paragraph count, let yourself run with it. If you finish a book, good for you, find another one and start again.)
Set up a maintenance schedule. If your goal is to read longer news pieces, try to read a longer piece every week and try to read to the end of every news article you open. If your goal is to read novels or longer nonfiction, try to read a book a month (maybe setting aside dedicated time each week to read, maybe Thursday evenings are book time now). If you find yourself falling back into old habits, take a break from The Internet and do some more rigorous practice for a while.
If you find yourself getting frustrated while you are reading you can also take a break! Read until you get frustrated and then *instead of switching to a different page or closing the article* close your eyes or look out the window or away from the screen for thirty seconds (count 'em! count out the time in your head) and then continue reading. You can also take a longer pause and sit and think about why you're getting frustrated. Is it the subject matter? Is it just looking at this text for longer than a couple minutes (if you are experiencing FOMO because you're reading for another few minutes instead of scrolling, the harder tips at the bottom are going to be important to you)? Are you comfortable? Are you reading this text to procrastinate from something and the procrastination is making you nervous? Are you trying to read to the bottom of your dash and reading a long post is taking up more time than you want while scrolling? Are you bored? Genuinely and very seriously: are your eyes straining and does your head hurt (if this is the case when is the last time you had your eyes checked or your glasses prescription updated)?
Here are the much harder "examine yourself and reassess your reactions to things" tips:
Work on re-training your attention span.
Identify something that you enjoy and find deeply engaging, and schedule some dedicated time for that thing. Set a literal timer (it can be a short amount of time at first) and sit down and do the thing without switching to a different website or opening up an app on your phone. This can be re-reading or watching a couple episodes of a show you like or listening to your favorite album while you sit down and draw. What's important is to spend a longer time focusing on doing something you DO like before attempting to spend a longer time focusing on something you DON'T like.
When you're starting on things you DON'T like, start with things you mildly don't like, or that feel tedious but aren't actually unpleasant. One way I do this is by transcribing poetry; I look up poems that I connect to and I transcribe them into a notebook that I have for that purpose. I enjoy having the finished product, but I don't enjoy the process, so it takes some effort to stick with it. Maybe there is a boring book you have been trying to get through, maybe you need to detail your car, maybe you've been trying to take up embroidery - these are good things to make yourself pay attention to (having music or a podcast on can help, but avoid watching videos or opening social apps)
When you're okay at that kind of thing (doing something not actively unpleasant) work on your attention span for things you ACTIVELY don't like. I don't think you should be a masochist about this, but you should work on being okay with doing unpleasant things for a sustained period of time. All of us have to do unpleasant stuff sometimes, and it's better to be able to pay attention to it for an hour at a time than it is to put it off forever.
This leads into the next Big Tip which is:
Work on being less reactive
Find something that you dislike; I'm going to use conservative talk radio as my example.
Expose yourself to the disliked thing for short periods of time (under ten minutes, maybe under five minutes).
Work on moderating your emotions during the time spent exposed to the disliked thing. If it makes you angry, work on intellectualizing the anger without becoming agitated by it. If it makes you sad, work on accepting that sadness without letting it drag down your mood. This isn't precisely about becoming numb to stimuli, but it is about being more in control of how your emotional reactions impact you.
Analyze the disliked thing. Why does it make you angry? Is that on purpose by the creator of the thing? Would it make someone else angry in the same way? How would you explain the anger to a neutral third party?
Consider responding instead of reacting. Let's say you're seeing a lot of very sad and upsetting things online and it's making you sad and upsetting you. You re-share these things because you don't feel like there's anything else you can do or you get angry when you see people sharing incorrect information, perhaps you argue with people about this. Now try looking at the upsetting things through the lens of point number four. This has upset you; how has it upset you? And once you've thought about how it upset you and have articulated that to yourself, find out what you can DO. I cannot make conservative talk radio go off the air, but I can support the groups harmed by conservative talk radio; thus there is no point in me getting upset and angry about conservative talk radio when I could be helping the people they target instead.
And that gets us to the last big tip which is:
Ask yourself if you are spending your time in a way that is enjoyable and edifying.
We all have limited time in our days and limited time in our lives. If you are finding yourself frequently frustrated online, it's a good time to consider whether you want to be spending so much time online.
If you feel like The Internet has become a rat race in which you can't read more than a few paragraphs without getting frustrated, there's a good chance that not only are you spending too much time on The Internet, but you're also spending it on doing things that you don't particularly like.
A realization like yours, Anon, that you are getting frustrated with any longer texts, can actually be really helpful because it provides a good opportunity to look at what you're engaging with and consider the questions:
Is this something I enjoy?
Do I feel good when I do this thing?
And that's a great way to figure out how to get rid of things that are leading to your background frustration. Maybe that looks like paring down the list of blogs you follow, maybe that looks like unsubscribing from some youtubers and podcasts, maybe that looks like uninstalling apps, maybe that looks like blocking a whole bunch of people and terms on your socials.
I don't think that everything we do has to help us grow as a person or expand our consciousness or anything like that, but I do think it's important to prioritize doing things that you like and doing things that you feel good about.
Like, I'm not doing something *wrong* if I spend an afternoon on Youtube watching drama channels every once in a while, but if I come out of a few afternoons of watching youtube drama channels feeling restless and anxious and like I wasted my time - even if I enjoyed myself while I was watching - it's probably a good idea for me to take a break from drama channels and see if there's something I can do instead that will make me feel better.
ALSO, A NOTE:
You are an animal that requires significant enrichment in your enclosure.
Think about tigers. Tigers in captivity are going to be excited to get high-value treats for any reason. They will eat and enjoy the treats. But if a tiger in captivity is only given the treats and never given any other form of activity to engage with, it is not going to be a happy tiger. If you start putting their treats in a pumpkin or a puzzle feeder or giving them toys to play with, that is going to be a much happier tiger.
Please give your brain things to play with that are more than just treats (though it does need some treats!). Make yourself a happy tiger. Your brain need a puzzle feeder, not a treat button.
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harryspet · 3 months
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bambi eyes (5) r. cameron
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[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, obx special guest appearances, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
A/N: Will tag people later, for now I must sleep :) Enjoy!
word count: 3.9k
In which Rafe loosens his leash, but actions come with consequences.
Rafe told you to get dressed and to wait at the front of the house. Truthfully, you liked it better when Rafe picked out your outfits. That way, you knew exactly what looked good on you and that you wouldn’t make some kind of fashion faux pas. You decided on a pink fitted top, a matching skirt, and an adorable pair of brown boots Rafe bought you for Christmas. You completed your look with a bow at the top of your hair and an array of colorful bracelets you put on each arm. 
You spent a while watching men in dark clothes walk the perimeter of the yard and through the forest on the sides of the property. At first, you were quite scared to see them, but Rafe explained that they worked for him. This led you to ask even more questions. Weren’t they cold out there? We should offer them some snacks? Could I make them cookies? Rafe shut down your curiosity quickly, emphasizing that you were not to say a word to any of them. 
When the door to the enclosed porch opened, you expected to see Rafe. You closed your drawing book and turned your head to greet him. Instead, Rafe’s friend Barry greeted you. You’d heard them going back and forth all morning, usually, their conversations were tense, but you assumed they must’ve come to some type of agreement. At the sight of you, he smiled, flashing his gold tooth. 
“Country Club’s little princess,” He sang, “How are you, baby?”
You smiled nervously, still not super used to being around others. It had been a few months now since Rafe brought you to Tannyhill and almost all of your social interaction had been with Rafe and Lana. 
“I’m good, I . . . how are you?”
He walked in front of you, his hands behind his back as he looked you over, “Oh I’m just peachy. Whatchu got there?” 
You glanced back towards the door, wondering if Rafe was far behind him. Looking back down at your lap, you said, “I was just drawing a little bit. Rafe told me to wait here–”
“Drawing, huh? You an artist?” Your eyes tilted back up to him. 
“Not an artist,” You said quickly, “I just like to . . .”
“What kind of stuff do you draw?” He asked, and you sensed sincerity in his tone, “You know, I used to draw a lot when I was in school. Nothing serious, but I couldn’t help it; my mind would just wander, and then my paper would have a bunch of doodles on it.”
He kneeled down in front of you, and you hesitated for a moment before you opened the book. You showed him your page of doodles. You drew a lot of what you saw, including doodles of Rafe, and things you saw around Tannyhill, “That’s Lana, ain’t it?” You nodded, “Impressive. Most people ain’t good at drawing faces. Not you though.”
“Thank you,” You said, “You don’t draw anymore?”
He shook his head, “Not very often. I should.”
You agreed, “You should. Sometimes, Rafe will draw with me. Well, mainly we’ll color together. He likes it when there’s already a picture, so he doesn’t have to come up with it himself.”
“He’s pretty bad at it, anyways, ain’t he?” Unexpectedly, a giggle left your lips, and you raised your book to cover the bottom of your face. 
“I should go look for him–” You made a move to escape, but Barry placed both his hands on the arms of your chair, effectively trapping you. 
Barry hadn’t touched you, but you felt you might get in trouble just for laughing at his joke, “You don’t like my company or something?” You shook your head immediately. 
“Sorry, that’s not what I meant . . .” 
“You’re sweet; I can see why he likes you,” Barry held his eyes on you and you felt the skin on your face heat up with embarrassment, “You know, you ever get tired of him, or he pisses you off – which he will, then you can call me. We can run away together.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, “I don’t have a phone.”
Barry smirked at that, “Ask anyone on this island who Barry is, and they’ll point you in the right direction.”
Running away with Barry was the last thing you wanted to do. Rafe had his bad days but you hadn’t considered trying to leave. Barry also barely knew you but you decided to think positively. Afterall, Rafe trusted Barry. You assumed his intentions must be good, “Okay,” You agreed, “When you come back next, maybe you can show me some of your drawings.”
“You want to see them. Really?”
“Yes,” You said, “It’s only fair.”
Barry nodded, “You make a good point. I gotta come back soon and try more of your desserts. That cake you made … I ain’t tasted nothing better.”
“You have to,” You rushed out excitedly, “Rafe and Lana say everything I make is great, I can’t tell if they’re honest.”
“I’m as honest as they come, sweetheart,” You grinned at that, “A good friend is honest.”
“You want to be my friend?”
“I mean, only if you want me to.”
“I do.”
“Don’t tell Rafe though–”
Your conversation was interrupted when the poor door opened, and Rafe appeared, “Don’t tell Rafe what?” His gaze was sharp, and luckily, it was mostly directed at Barry. You watched as Barry stood and stepped back from you. 
“Nothing man, we were just talking about about Kildare. You’re going to let me help show her around, right?”
Rafe’s brooding look turned to amusement, “She’s not gonna step foot on your side of the island. Thanks for the offer though.” 
There was an awkward silence, and you felt some tension building until Barry finally said, “Alright, I’ll see you soon, Bambi,” You waved as he turned on his heel, “Rafe.”
Rafe watched as Barry walked out the front door before he held out his hand, summoning you. You hurried from your chair, moving in closer before you grabbed ahold of his hand. It was his cue to you that he would be leading you somewhere, and you were expected to follow. 
“He touch you?” Rafe asked, leading you out the same door. You watched as Barry pulled around the horseshoe driveway in his sports car. He walked you to his large truck, opening the passenger door, “Bambi.”
“Uh …no,” You stared. 
Suddenly, you were the furthest from Tannyhill’s front door than you’d ever been. 
“Good, get in, Bambi.”
“I’m leaving . . . you’re leaving with me in the car? Your car? Right now? Today?” 
“Yeah,” He said, unsure of himself, “Get in; I’m already starting to change my mind.”
You jumped in excitement, “Really? Where are we going?” Rafe helped you as you started to climb in. He leaned over you, fastening your seatbelt for you, “You aren’t taking me back, right?”
“No, sweet girl,” Rafe assured you, “As far as where we’re going, it’s a surprise.” 
You couldn’t contain your excitement as you settled into your seat. As you pulled past the gates at the end of the long driveway and onto the road, you couldn’t help but feel like all your faith in Rafe had paid off. 
“Who’s that, Daddy?” You asked, noticing a black car that had also pulled out of Tannyhill and was following closely behind. 
“No one, Bambi,” He brushed your question off, “So, uh, what were you two talking about? You and Barry?”
Your eyes were focused on the huge trees that hung over the road, beautifully dripping green moss from it’s branches. Between the trees, you saw huge mansions with big gates and long drives just like Tannyhill. 
“Drawing,” You said briefly, “He said he would show me some of his work.”
“He’s full of shit.”
You turned to Rafe who was gripping the wheel with one hand, “Daddy … I don’t like it when you curse.”
“Bambi, I–” He held his tongue, sighing before he reached over to place his other hand on your thigh, “I’m sorry, sometimes work makes me lose focus. What I mean is that Barry is my friend but … he likes to mess with me, you know? So he might say something to you knowing that it would bother me.”
“He seemed like he meant it,” You said, “Would it bother you if we were friends?”
“Guys and girls can’t really be friends,” Rafe explained, “Especially not with little girls like you, okay?”
“But why–”
“Because I’m telling you right now. I appreciate that you are kind to Barry but he wouldn’t be a good friend to you. If I’m going to protect you, and as your Daddy, I should have a say in who your friends are.”
You opened your mouth to argue but quickly shut it. It didn’t make much sense to you why men and women couldn’t be friends. Why would Barry offer to be your friend if it wasn’t appropriate? You supposed that you never had any male friends before, and most men you’d been around wanted a similar thing from you, “Maybe you’re right, Daddy.”
You drove over bridges with water on both sides of the road and through more neighborhoods with huge houses. Fifteen minutes into your drive, you arrived at an area with a grocery store and lots of stores that you assumed were also for shopping. 
Rafe pulled his truck in front of one of the storefronts. You unbuckled your seatbelt, sitting up further in your seat so you could read the sign, “Fig . . uuure eight …ball …it.”
“Ballet,” Rafe corrected you, “Figure eight Ballet Company.”
Confusion spread over your features, “I looked into it; they have adult classes for beginners. I thought it might be something fun for you to do once a week.”
“Me?” You pointed to your chest, “Dance classes?”
“If you don’t want to, that’s okay,” Rafe rushed out, “It’s good exercise, and you can also do it at home. And it’s a chance to meet friends, friends that are girls, preferably.” 
“Oh,” When you looked at Rafe, it seemed like he was desperately trying to read your expression, “I’d be so nervous. And I wouldn’t be good at it.”
“I think people just do it for fun and to learn something new. And I wouldn’t just leave; I would walk you in and pick you up. Not today; I just wanted to take you by and see what you thought.”
“... It could be really fun …”
“And you’d make quite the adorable ballerina.”
“Maybe I could try one class . . . and if I liked it, you would take me every week?”
“Every week, as long as you continue to be a good girl,” Your nervousness started to melt away into excitement the longer you thought about it, “And while we’re out, I thought we could do some shopping. My research has informed me you’re going to need shoes, tights, a leotard, and a skirt.”
You practically leaped over the center console to hug him, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Daddy!”
Rafe pulled you in close, “Anything for you, sweet girl.”
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Rafe didn’t need to get his hands dirty anymore; he could hire people to protect him or kill for him. As he settled into his new life with you, he started to miss some of the adventures he experienced in his early 20s and late teens. There were no more brawls or treasures to steal. He hadn’t realized he needed an outlet for the negative energy that seemed to boil up inside of him sometimes. Now, what he knew is that he needed to keep that side of him as far away from you as possible. 
Killing JJ would’ve satisfied that part of him that has been begging to come out of him for years. He would’ve felt a rush like no other, power and control that he hadn’t felt in so long. He hadn’t brought himself to do it yet, teetering on that line between sanity and insanity. The Pogue was always a good competitor, and Rafe wasn’t surprised that he was still fighting. Rafe liked that about JJ. 
Still, Rafe wanted to see him break, and he was patient enough to wait for it. 
“What would you do to see her again?” Rafe asked as he kneeled over JJ’s bruised and battered body. 
The pogue coughed, and blood-spattered on the boat cabin’s floor. 
The silent treatment followed, but Rafe was used to talking to himself, “I know she’s not over you, but how long do you think she’ll wait before she moves on? Six months? A year? I mean, she’s a wild one; I’m sure she won’t want to stick around this place for much longer.”
“Fuck you, Rafe,” JJ’s favorite words. 
“Maybe you just don’t love her like I thought you did,” Rafe taunted, “I mean if you did, you’d be groveling at my feet, right?”
JJ’s eyes pinched tight as Rafe’s words sounded like nails on a chalkboard. 
The silent treatment followed again, and Rafe considered what his next steps might be. Removing limbs? That could be fun for a while, but if he hadn’t surrendered at this point, what would make him crack? 
“Fine,” Rafe looked down at his bloody knuckles, “I won’t bother you anymore today, but I do have something I want you to contemplate in your hours of silence. Consider the idea that I let you go, and you see Kie again instead of bleeding out here and your body being chopped into pieces. I want you to think, and I mean really think, about what you might do to make that happen. And don’t think of it as sacrificing your morals or making a deal with the devil … think of it as securing your future, okay?”
Rafe tapped his hand against JJ’s sore cheek before he stood and left. He heard no quippy comeback from the Pogue. At least Rafe had successfully beat that out of him. 
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Rafe’s eyes snapped open and was awakened from his sleep when he felt a soft finger poking at his cheek, “Wha…” Groggily, he reached to turn on his bedside lamp and found you, dressed in a onesie that made you look like a brown bear,  standing beside his bed, a sniffling mess, “Hey, w-what’s wrong?”
Immediately, Rafe reached out to grab you, and you proceeded to climb onto his large bed, “I-I had a scary dream,” You hiccuped, “Y-You sent me away a-and I was alone again and Master he was so mad at me b-because I-I didn’t make you h-happy–”
Rafe shushed you, pulling you into him, “It wasn’t real, okay? Look, you’re here with me right now.” 
“It felt real,” You whimpered, and Rafe’s lips pulled into a thin line of frustration. He wanted you happy, and he wanted to give you much more than you ever had, and it pained him that you thought he might hurt you in that way. 
“I . . . I wouldn’t ever do that, Bambi,” He brushed tears from your cheeks and caressed your face, “I’d fu- … I’d rather die than let you go. And I’d kill anyone that tried to take you from me. Anyone, okay?”
“You’ve hurt people before,” It wasn’t a question; Rafe could see it was an observation she’d made. 
“Yes,” He admitted, “But I haven’t hurt you, have I?”
“You saved me.”
Rafe nodded, “That’s right, sweet girl. I saved you. I’ve hurt people, yes,  but I-I’m not a cruel person. I wouldn’t do something like that. And you make me so happy.”
Rafe watched as you blinked away your tears and tried to stop yourself from frowning, “What if I don’t always make you happy?”
“You make me happy by breathing,” Rafe tried to assure you, “You’re smart and beautiful, and you deserve nice things. I never had anyone in my life that made me feel like I deserved anything. I never even felt like I deserved to be loved. I don’t want you to ever feel like that.”
“I love you, Rafe,” You were trying to reassure him now, and Rafe was grateful. He loved those words on your lips, and he felt in his heart that you meant them, “And . . . I like being loved by you. So much.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes,” Rafe felt you press your forehead against his before you pressed your lips softly against his, “Thank you . . . for everything. Uhm, did I scare you?”
“No, no,” Rafe’s mind was mostly on the thought of your lips, “I like being woken up by cute bears.”
Rafe pulled you in again for a kiss. Softly, your lips moved together, and Rafe explored your mouth with his tongue, slowly deepening the kiss. Rafe was already growing hard, and he cursed in his mind, frustrated by how easily you got him going. 
“You still sore from earlier?” He asked. 
“A little bit,” You spoke shyly, “You were kinda rough…”
Rafe thought back to you, bent over the arm of the couch, taking you deep, but that just made his cock ache even more. 
“But I’ve trained that little hole well, haven’t I?” Rafe asked, pressing the length protruding from his boxers, against your stomach, “You can take more, okay?”
You nodded, although Rafe’s question was rhetorical. Rafe didn’t like you sad, but he certainly like seeing your teary face. Your pajamas were the cherry on top, including the convenient little flap on the back that allowed for easy access, “Turn around on your side, little girl,” Rafe commanded gruffly, “This will help you sleep.”
“Daddy…” You whined as you did exactly as Rafe ordered. 
“Right here, not going anywhere,” Rafe pushed his crotch into your ass, bringing his lips close to your ear. He ground against you as he carefully pulled down the front zipper of your onesie. He needed to feel your nipples between his fingers, your breasts in his large hands. He also needed your pussy dripping for him, knowing he couldn’t fuck you when you were already sore without any lubrication. He reached into your onesie, finding your mound easily, and began to rub circles over your sensitive area, “Daddy needs you so badly.”
You squirmed, but you were tightly pressed against him. He teased you, moving back and forth from your clit to your breasts. He’d rub your breast until you were aching below, and when you started to feel close, he’d go back to teasing your nipples. 
He got you to a point where you were so stimulated that you were already orgasming with three slow and deep strokes inside of you. You were convulsing around him, unable to contain your moans, but Rafe wrapped his hand around your mouth and continued to pump inside of you. It certainly wasn’t as rough as earlier, but Rafe could feel you squeezing him tighter, “You feel how happy you make me, Bambi?” Rafe grunted, “Daddy wouldn’t want to cum in any other pussy than yours — Jesus.”
Rafe finished inside of you. He hadn’t lost all of his energy, though, moving his hands back to your clit, as he filled you up. He didn’t stop until your legs were shaking and you were cumming again. 
“Thank me.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” You spoke breathlessly. 
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Now that your Daddy was allowing you out of the house, there were new rules for you to learn. Of course, you weren’t allowed to talk to strangers unless they were girls you met at dance class. You had to go by Y/N, Y/L/N, and Rafe had given you an ID to carry around when you couldn’t be together. If anyone asked who you were to Rafe, you could just say that you were his girlfriend and you’d moved in with him a few months ago. That wasn’t far from the truth, so you didn’t imagine that would feel like lying. 
A few days after he showed you the ballet company, he let you tag along to run errands with him. For most of the time you sat in the car, watching him pump gas, stop at different businesses, and shake hands with men who seemed amused by every word Rafe said. You noticed people tended to stare at him, especially as the two of you walked through the grocery store together. 
“Did people always stare at you like this?”
“They used to stare at my Dad; he used to be the King of this place,” You nodded, twirling the ribbon in your hair as Rafe pushed the cart along, “I don’t think people expected me to come back.”
“Well, since you’re Dad is gone. I guess you’re the King now,” You flashed him a smile. 
“Maybe so,” Rafe conceded. 
“Oooh, look!” You pointed at something in the refrigerated section that caught your eye, and your feet were already moving towards it. As soon as you pulled open the glass door, you felt Rafe’s strong hands around your bicep, stopping you. You whipped back to see eyes narrowed at you and his serious face.
“You can’t just run away from me like that,” He snapped, “Jesus . . . don’t do that, okay?”
“I’m sorry,” You squeaked, “I just saw . . . they have so many types of iced coffee. They have peppermint, and caramel and mocha-”
“Coffee isn’t good for you.”
“You let me eat sweets all the time, and those aren’t good for me,” The words came out before you could stop them. You couldn’t help but feel frustrated. Rafe offered you the world, but at the same time, he controlled so many aspects of it. 
You’d pissed him off; you could immediately see it in his face. His hand still on your arm, Rafe leaned closer to you, “You’re going to stand right next to the cart for the rest of the time we’re in here, and you’re not going to say another word, okay? I don’t want to hear it.”
You let the door go just as Rafe let your arm go. You crossed your arms, knowing you had no other choice than to keep your mouth closed. Rafe didn’t have much to say after that, and you let him brood on his own. 
You were standing near the fresh produce; Rafe was picking out the vegetables that Lana had written on the grocery list when you saw a woman approaching your cart. She had caramel skin and pretty curls that were tamed by a messy bun on top of her head. She was holding a small shopping basket, but she didn’t seem to have any care for any of the items inside as she stomped closer to the two of you, red in her eyes. 
“Rafe Cameron!” She didn’t seem even to perceive you as she stared Rafe down. You watched his reaction closely and how his contempt quickly switched from you to her. 
“Kie, long time no see,” He didn’t express much emotion other than through his eyes, making him appear stoic. 
The woman, Kie, didn’t hide any of her emotions, “I know what you did.”
“What’s that?” Rafe tilted his head. 
“You know what exactly I’m talking about,” She pointed a finger at him, tears in her eyes, “Your day is coming–”
He proceeded to talk over her, “Hey, let your Mom and pops know Cameron Development is still interested in working with them. I have the perfect property for their next restaurant. I mean, an absolutely gorgeous spot.”
“Fuck you, Rafe,” You covered your mouth in shock. 
“It was nice catching up with you too, Kie,” He winked as the woman walked away. 
You watched as Rafe’s hands squeezed into a fist and then how tightly they wrapped around the cart’s handle. 
“Daddy-”
“Let’s go, Bambi.”
“Rafe-”
“I didn’t want to hear it before; I definitely don’t want to hear your mouth now. Let’s go.” 
You bit your tongue and fell back into step with him. You supposed a king couldn't be loved by all his subjects.
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PART 6
Please reblog if you enjoyed and let me know what you think/predictions for the future!
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cherryredcheol · 3 months
Text
"angel"
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tldr: all the way mingyu uses the petname he calls you.
a/n: this is my first fic ever, please be kind.
coos: when he’s trying to get what he wants.
“angel” he looks at you from across the store. you turn your head and wish you hadn’t. As soon as you catch those eyes, you know its over for you. You don’t even know what he wants and you’re already prepared to do anything to give it to him. 
“wear these matching outfits with me?” he asks with the biggest grin on his face. you laugh, immediately nodding along to his idea, knowing how happy it would make him. 
“i can take cute pictures of us and set it as my wallpaper on my phone,” he rambles on, browsing the rack for your size in the unisex shirt he just had to have with you, “...been needing a new one.” 
groans: when you get up to leave. 
“annnnngeeeel” you hear from deep within the sheets. you thought he was asleep, that's why you pecked him so lightly on the cheek before pulling the covers off yourself. you did not expect his gruff voice to hit you so early in the morning. you actually were not expecting to hear it at all today since you had to be at work early. 
“stay a few more minutes. take a shorter shower, do less skincare, just stay in bed,” he begged. how could you say no to him? so you concede. tucking yourself back into the bed. he takes this moment to pull you in tight. 
“mmmm,” he hums. you feel the vibration in your back, where his warm chest was practically enmeshed in you. “sorry about your skin care in advance”
yells: when he needs your attention right this second. 
“angel!” he shouts when he looks up and you weren’t watching him like you promised you would be. The practice room was echoey so it was louder than he intended but it got your attention. You turned away from Seungcheol, brow raised, holding a finger up politely to pause the conversation you were engaged in. 
“you missed my move!” he pouted, stomping his feet very dramatically as he huffed across the room to you. you looked at him ready to apologize and ask him to show you again in a second when his hand wrapped around your wrist. 
“come on,” he said with a little determined frown, brows creasing. he leads you directly to the mirrored wall up front. “sit right here and watch me kill this. you’ll be so proud i finally got this down.” 
moans: when you’re behind him.
“angel” his eyes flutter shut as he feels your soft lips press behind his ear. your arms were wrapped around his waist just so and he could smell your perfume, making his head spin. 
“should we go home?” he felt you nod against his back and he smiled. he knew what this meant when you were needy like this. he knew his night was far from over and he was happy to leave this stuffy party anyway. his shiny new shoes pinching his toes in a way that was starting to become uncomfortable. 
“hey guys?” he said catching his wonwoo and jun’s attention. “i think we’re going to head out” he turned slightly, showing the guys how you clung to his back, wrinkling the front of your emerald dress. eyes closed contently with a little smile on your face. “see you later.”
sings: when he gets home. 
“angeeeellllll” his voice carries across the apartment as he flings the door open, expecting you to be right there with a little smile on your face, waiting for him. what he saw instead was nothing. a dark apartment. upon further inspection, he saw a faint light coming from the living room. 
“I can’t believe it,” he muttered to himself, turning on the lamp next to the couch. he was secretly hoping to wake you up so he could spend time with you. it had been a long week away from you in Japan and he missed you. the night was still young, it was practically still dinner time. 
“well, well, well…” he said, hands on hips when you opened your eyes. he smiled when his plan worked. “wake up you lazy bones. it’s time to hang out with me” but when you turned on your puppy dog eyes and reached up for him, who was he to refuse a cuddle on the couch? he guessed you could hang out in the morning. 
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fatuismooches · 3 months
Note
Could you please write about the Harbingers spending time with the reader on their birthdays? But maybe they send what they did with you as a letter to the Traveler like the in-game feature? :D
♡ 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬' 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ♡
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synopsis: The Traveler naturally expects mail in their inbox whenever the Harbingers' birthdays roll around. However, they didn't expect it to be so... lovey-dovey, and all about you.
includes: all harbingers w/ gn! reader
notes: I've finally finished it! I've been wanting to write something similar to my voice line post for a while, so here it is - the Harbingers sending birthday mail, except they're very down bad for you :3 Includes a letter, a photograph, and attached items with the letter! (Sorry to the Pulcinella fans, I was too lazy to write him in.)
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“Home…”
Sender: Pierro
It is my birthday today. Normally, I would have continued on my day as usual, but [Name] had another idea in mind, going so far as to get the Tsaritsa herself to block the door to my office and then dragging me away. It seems they were planning this for a while… The last birthday I celebrated was the year Khaenri’ah fell. What purpose did today serve when my homeland and people were gone? As the years went on, it began to slip my mind and I nearly would have forgotten the date, were it not for [Name]’s question a while ago. I thought nothing of it, but I did not think [Name] would have taken this so seriously.
They knew I would enjoy anything so long as it was with them, yet they had the entire day planned out. Claiming that I needed some fresh air, we walked through the Snezhnayan streets, the normally biting frost a bit warmer than usual. Casual browsing at some new stores that opened up. [Name]’s attempt at starting a snowball fight. And lastly… grocery shopping.
When we got back, they wouldn’t let me help or look. But I could tell from the smell exactly what they were making. It turns out that they managed to make a dish from my home country. I am not sure how they managed to get a hold of this recipe… I must have mentioned it offhandedly and they improvised from there. Of course, it’s not an exact replica, but nonetheless, it tasted delicious. Just for a few minutes, I was taken back to my previous home. That home will never come back, but I have a new one now.
And now the day is almost over. Despite their best efforts to stay awake until the end of the day, they succumbed to their sleepiness, now lying on my lap. They were supposed to read me something they made, but perhaps I’ll find out what that was tomorrow. 
Tomorrow will be back to normal again. But that is alright. I still do not believe I deserve a day like today but, if this is what [Name] desires, then I shall not refuse them again. I’ll look forward to the next birthday just as they do.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Pierro and you in it. The Harbinger is seated at a table with a homemade dish in front of him. His giant coat and mask are placed off to the side, revealing scars from long ago. You’re glued to his side, trying to feed him by holding the spoon close to his mouth. Pierro is a grown man, the Traveler thinks, he does not need you to feed him… However, he looks quite content with this arrangement so the blonde won’t question it any further. In fact, he looks as if he’s right at home.
Attached Items:
Ancient Khaenri’ahn Dish [A meal unique to Khaneri’ah that has long been forgotten by the world. Although you clearly struggled to make it due to a lack of experience, even the Traveler can taste how much of your love was put into it.]
Khaenri’ahn Story Book [A book that contains numerous fairy tales and various stories originating from the lost nation, written by none other than Pierro himself, and illustrated by you. Apparently, it was born from you begging him to tell you stories from his home, and eventually, the Harbinger began to write them down so you could read them instead of bothering him so often. However, it made the problem worse as now you bother him to read them to you. How sweet.]
“A Day Off.”
Sender: Dottore
[Name] has convinced me to go back to Sumeru with them for a couple of days. I couldn’t care less about this day, but they were adamant about spending the whole day with me, and that they “will not be spending my birthday in a dark gloomy lab again.” 
My research has regrettably halted for a bit, but I suppose this was not a bad idea. This was the first time in many years that either of us had stepped foot back into Sumeru - we had not been back since I was expelled from the Akademiya, besides my segments of course.
[Name] and I trekked the same path we used to walk during our studies at the Akademiya. It was a good spot for studying and conducting experiments without any disturbances - that was until they started following me around. They were a nuisance at first… but eventually, [Name] began to help me deconstruct a variety of machines, which was helpful. And then would laugh at me whenever I ended up breaking them. 
Ever since I met them, [Name] has always said a lot of strange things, but their most recent comment was that they wanted to drink the blue liquid in the vial I carry around. They think it looks… tropical and vibrant. Of course, I refused them. But I had a feeling that if I didn’t provide them with it, they’d try and get it themselves. I was not interested in having to inject an antidote into them, so I came up with a solution.
I know that I am no chef, but this goes outside the realm of cooking. It wasn’t hard to create a sweet drink that would be to [Name]’s liking with the same color. They were more pleased than I thought and demanded that I make it for them more often. I do not care much for nourishment, but perhaps I’ll try my hand at it more often. They have insisted that I send you some, too. So, Traveler, is it to your liking as well? Even if it’s not, I do not care, so don’t bother telling me.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Dottore and you in it. Despite how much the Traveler has explored Sumeru, they can’t seem to pinpoint the location where it was taken. It must really be a secret place, just for the two of you. Dottore’s mask is on his lap, revealing crimson eyes and scarred skin. You seem to have fallen asleep on his shoulder, as your eyes are closed, though your mouth seems to be agape, perhaps mumbling some nonsense in your sleep. Dottore’s expression is exasperated, but there is a certain fondness in his eyes, one that the Traveler can’t distinguish, or rather, they refuse to believe it. Did the Kamera have an editing function now? Because surely, the photograph must have been forged or something, because there was no way The Doctor could ever have such a tender look in his eyes… 
Attached Items:
Strange Blue Concoction [Some kind of legitimate drink that’s the same color as the vial Dottore carries around. According to [Name], it is quite delicious, but would any sane person dare to try anything from The Doctor of all people…? Who knows, these two might be trying to poison the blonde.]
Assortment of Ruin Guard Parts [Parts from Ruin Guards Dottore created and assembled himself. A wide variety of parts are here, including Chaos Cores, Circuits, and Devices. Wait… they seem to all be damaged and broken. Hey, did Dottore just send the Traveler his useless parts?!]
“Care For A Show?” 
Sender: Columbina
Hello dear Traveler! How are you?~ Today has been such a wonderful day. Why, you ask? Because it’s my birthday of course! ♪ The one day when I have the ability to drag my beloved [Name] wherever I want, with no resistance. Normally they protest for quite a bit, telling me I have a mountain of work to do but, they don’t need to worry their pretty little head about that. ♫ Is it that much of a crime to slack off to spend time with one’s beloved? But oh, that little routine of ours is something that I do cherish.
My dearest [Name] took me to a play. We were among the first to see it, as it was the opening day. You know, they always tell me that as a Harbinger, I should be more conscious of how I present myself. But is it really a problem to sit in their lap instead of my chair? It’s not like anyone can see us all the way up on the balcony seats, hmm? ♬ Moving on though~ The play was quite an interesting story. 
It was of an angel who fell in love with a mere human, despite how taboo it was. When the two were caught, the angel had to decide - would she rather retain their purity and remain in the heavens or fall down, stripped of her divinity to be with her human? Well, if you want to see the ending, you’ll just have to come to Snezhnaya and watch it yourself. ♪ But do tell me Traveler, if you were in a situation like that, what would you choose? … I already know what my choice would be.
Ah, but that show was not even the best part! After that, [Name] put on their own performance for me, just the two of us. It was beautiful of course, the way they convey their choice of art is always worthy of praise. But, they always seem to seek my feedback and criticism… they told me they want to keep improving to make me even more pleased but, how many times do I need to explain to them that I already believe their craft is beautiful? Nevertheless, I do indulge them, if only to satisfy my love. Why don’t you take a look at one of our collaborations, Traveler? It is quite good if I do say so myself. ♫
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Columbina and you in it. The lighting in the theater is a bit dim, so your figures are a bit faded but, the Traveler can still make out the two of you. The two of you have separate chairs but, Columbina is practically spilling onto yours, her head comfortably resting against your chest. You seem as though this is normal for you, which it probably is. Wait, is Columbina sleeping? It seems she probably got bored during the intermission… That’s why you specifically chose your clothes to double as a blanket for your wife.
Attached Items:
Music Score [A music score composed by both you and Columbina. The two of you performed it perfectly together as a present to your wife. Of course, it’s bound to be mesmerizing considering Columbina’s participation. So hauntingly beautiful, that in fact, it might end your life before you get to the end… is that an exaggeration? Well, it seems like the Traveler will have to take that risk.]
Pair of Tickets [Tickets gifted to the Traveler and Paimon. There’s no name on it or any expiration date, so it can be used to watch a single play in Snezhnaya for free, with the best seats in-house, so pick carefully. These things are quite expensive, so don’t go losing them now! Otherwise, Columbina and [Name] might ban the traveling duo from the theater…]
“An Excellent Day.”
Sender: Capitano
Today is my birthday. However, I have never been very adept at celebrating this day. I realize that it is the norm to celebrate one’s birthday, but I have never felt the need to. Though, ever since I became a Harbinger, my recruits have always wished me well today. Unfortunately, when the bolder ones ask me what I have planned, I have nothing interesting to respond with, always prompting them to urge me to do something… In the hallways, I always hear conversations along the lines of even though being a Harbinger is busy, I deserve to do something nice on my birthday. But in reality, it does not bother me at all. Is it really that strange not to do anything on one’s birthday?
When [Name] found out how I normally spend my birthdays, they shared a similar sentiment and promised to make this one “the most eventful and fun and best one I’ve ever had.” They said that since this is our first year together, they need to make my birthday an excellent one. Although I tried to reassure them they needn’t try so hard for me, they were insistent. However, true to their word, I would say my birthday did end up being an excellent one.
One thing about [Name] is they never fail to teach me something new. In this case, they taught me what it means to celebrate a birthday, and I’d say I learned a lot. As stated by them, there is no exact or definite way to celebrate. It is what you make of it. And they, knowing the kind of man I was, chose the activities accordingly. (There were a few mishaps but everything went well for the most part. It is not customary to break a few knives while cutting cake, so I feared that I may have ruined things, but [Name] reassured me it was normal.)
So all in all, today was an excellent day. However, I am faced with a problem now. What should I do when [Name]’s birthday comes? Should I do the same thing they did for me? But would they think that is low effort and unoriginal? I do not wish to disappoint them. Traveler, do you have any ideas? Also, please ask Tartaglia for me as well. The last time I spoke to him, he tried to ask me for a duel.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Capitano and you in it. The snowy forest terrain looks as picturesque as ever, but what really draws attention is the man and his lover in the middle. Mostly, the Harbinger who has a squirrel or two perched on him, not to mention the few birds that made their nest in the fluff of his coat. And even some cats? Where did they come from?! Well, it’s best not to question it. It’s rather endearing. Rather, one should question how silent and unmoving the Captain is in an effort to not disturb all the animals. Just ignore the deer in the background waiting for some attention too.
Attached Items:
How To Celebrate Your Birthday Pamphlet [A collaboration between Capitano’s Fan Club and [Name]. The fan club loves you immensely because you help to put their long-awaited plans into action. The numerous activities in this guide (blowing out the candles, feeding each other cake, gift giving, lots of affection, etc) were written out by the club and dutifully carried out by you. There were also birthday punches, but Capitano was confused as to why you were tickling him.]
Capitano and [Name]’s Picture Book [Don’t tell anyone this, but Capitano has a tendency to name all the creatures of the forest near his mansion. At first, he went there to train, but decided against it after seeing all the animals around there, because he doesn’t want to scare them away. What he did not expect was to befriend all of them… you came across him one day talking to them after searching for him. How can he tell them apart? Even you don’t know. But this book is dedicated to all of his animal friends, with pictures taken by you of course. So if the Traveler happens to visit Snezhnaya someday, make sure to be nice to these little guys!]
“They’re Annoying…”
Sender: Wanderer
It is that time of year again when my birthday rolls around. You know very well I do not care much for this day, but once again, there are always annoyances at my every turn… Both Lesser Lord Kusanali and [Name] always prove to be a thorn in my side on this day. In the past, I usually spent my birthdays under the sakura trees in Inazuma, visiting [Name]. But, things have changed now. I no longer am who I once was, and my relationship with [Name] is no longer the same. They have forgotten me, and our past together… but Lesser Lord Kusanali has forced us to interact again numerous times, leading to our current relationship. Lesser Lord Kusanali always pats my back, saying that time will lead us back to each other… how irritating. 
Speaking of her being irritating, she decided to tell [Name] that today was my birthday, a horrible decision. Now, they’ve run all over Sumeru looking for me, until they finally found me in the House of Daena. Panting and gasping for air, all I could hear was them sincerely apologizing over and over for not knowing my birthday. They promised they’d get me a late birthday gift, even though I kept repeating that it was unnecessary. Unfortunately, it has always been hard to get things through their thick skull. All I know for sure is that Lesser Lord Kusanali definitely planned this and that she will tease me to no end the next time I see her… 
Still, they dragged me through Sumeru City. According to them, they knew I wouldn’t like anything too fancy, so they brought me to an alleyway. Your typical textbook dark and narrow one. And at the end were… cats. Many of them. [Name] turned to me with a smile and said they bet I didn’t know about this secret kitty haven, and that it was a perfect gift for someone like me. I do wonder if Sumeru’s sun has made them crazy sometimes.
But, this birthday wasn’t as boring as I thought it’d be. So… that’s nice, I guess. Actually, Lesser Lord Kusanali had assigned me a paper to write. A paper on [Name], on my own birthday. She said that she wasn’t going to read or check it, but it was for my sake. How preposterous, right? How would anything like that help me?
But tonight… I feel as though I’ll make some progress on it.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Wanderer and you in it. The puppet is at the top of the ladder in the House of Daena, searching for books (most likely forced to by the Dendro Archon), but your figure can be made out at the bottom. You seem to be waving and beckoning him to come down, so he can have a good time with you for his birthday. Wanderer doesn’t seem very excited about it, but… he will always indulge you, the person he can’t deny he loves. Hmm? Why is he using a ladder instead of his Anemo powers? Well, perhaps the puppet doesn’t like drawing attention to himself.
Attached Items:
Essay Concerning Inazuman Society and Politics [An essay Wanderer has written during his time spent in Vahumana. What, did the Traveler really think he’d send the essay he wrote about [Name]? However, Paimon couldn’t make it through the title page, and even the Traveler struggled through it. But, it seems to be your favorite essay of his, considering all the notes you made in it, not to mention the noodles you drew when you got bored… Wanderer probably scolded you for that but, it’s never in bad faith.]
Tricolor Dango [A plate of dango that [Name] brought for Wanderer as a treat. It seems that they are unaware of his dislike of sweet food… But the puppet did not want to hurt their feelings considering the thought and effort they put into his birthday, so he did not decline it.]
“A Lavish Tea Party.”
Sender: Sandrone
Unbeknownst to me, [Name] recently had a variety of sweets from Fontaine imported. It seemed like they tinkered with my bots once again, to get them on their side so I would remain in the dark… they can be such a hassle to deal with sometimes. However, this means that their skills are ever improving, as I’ve been improving my Automatons to be much more complex. As expected of my assistant. Speaking of, they’ve also imported some other things that I’ve been wanting for a while. Hopefully, they’re up to standard this time, or they’ll have to be returned. Ugh, I hate dealing with the Ninth whenever that happens…
Though back to the subject, it seems that [Name] has once again needlessly gone out of their way, since today is my date of birth. Although I don’t like being distracted from my research, and I see no need to waste time just because I happened to be born today, this break that [Name] has prepared for me isn’t too bad. I have not attended a proper tea party in far too long. The fools I have for agents can never set it up correctly.
[Name] is not someone who dresses up very often, but they always make the effort to match their attire with mine. Something that other people should learn from, but alas. Though, I wish they did it more often. Not even the most well-crafted doll could match their beauty. Have I told them that? No, they should be smart enough to figure that out by themselves.
Regardless, I must cut this letter short. After this, I want to work on an Automaton with [Name]. I have held off on it because they have expressed interest in it, and since we are together now, it is the perfect time to work on it. I was expecting them to get huffy at me working today, but it seems that they are pleased to work with me. I wonder why.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Sandrone and you in it. A wide array of treats and sweets are plated on numerous platters, along with ceramic tea cups waiting to be filled with piping hot tea. The surrounding robots are also fashioned in a similar style as her, perfect attire for the tea party, holding additional trays of desserts. (Can these robots eat too?) You’re pouring your wife her favorite kind of tea as you’ve already set her plate, while she sits patiently with her hands folded. Despite Sandrone’s doll-like features, one can see a small smile on her face.
Attached Items:
Instructions For A Perfect Tea Party [Sandrone’s set of instructions as to how a perfect tea party is conducted. Some of the rules seem nonsensical and impossible to many, which is why no Fatui agent can ever live up to the Harbinger’s expectations, as she will not accept anything less than what she desires. However, you are the only person who has managed to fulfill all the rules to a tee, which is one of the reasons she greatly favors you. Sending this list to the Traveler and Paimon is also her way of saying they are never invited as they will never be able to fulfill the rules in a way that satisfies her… how rude!]
Clockwork Toy of Sandrone [A Harbinger toy from Leschots Clockwork Workshop in Fontaine. They seem to have dabbled in making toys of the Harbingers as they said they would, and who better to start with than the machinery genius herself? Of course, Sandrone can point out numerous flaws with the design and components, and probably criticized it heavily to you, but you still seem to love it, because it’s of her! Unfortunately, your wife doesn’t like that very much… why settle for something inferior when you could have it in much higher quality? So the Harbinger decided to make a toy of herself that lives up to her standard. The Traveler can have the faulty one…]
“Another Year Passes…”
Sender: La Signora
In the past, I used to be quite fond of birthdays. In Mondstadt, I would always celebrate it with him every year. But after he died, birthdays left a bitter taste in my mouth, and I never dared think about doing anything on this day ever again. How could I, when he was no longer by my side? But today is my birthday again, and I find myself happy. Why? Because of [Name], the person who taught me how to love again. Admittedly, I pushed away the idea at first. But after some more reflection, I decided it wouldn’t be fair to [Name]. The past is the past, and the present is the present. If [Name] wants to make me feel special on my birthday, then who am I to stop them?
And indeed they did pamper me. They always pamper me but, today it was much more than normal. Breakfast in bed, massages, hair brushing, helping me put on my clothes, opening doors for me, fancy dinner and wine after work. I don’t think there was a single moment where they weren’t trying to do something for me. It gave me a good chuckle, which made them embarrassed. But truly, it made me happy. I had… forgotten what it feels like to be cared for on my birthday. It’s a foreign feeling but, I hope that the foreignness eventually goes away after some time.
However, I must tell them that there’s no need to overexert themselves just because it is my birthday. Although I do enjoy the extra treatment, it does neither of us any good for them to fall asleep before the night is even over. But, that’s okay. There is always next year, yes?
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Signora and you in it. You are fast asleep on the Fair Lady’s lap, a peaceful expression on your face. A similar one is on Signora’s, as there is no one else around, and she can let her guard down around you. There are a few of her flame moths scattered around the room as well, a few on the two of you. As her blonde hair spills onto your face and body, one can only guess what she is thinking.
Attached Items:
Tea Break Pancakes [Despite Signora’s history with her home nation, it’s said that she still enjoys the cuisine from there. So, you like to cook her food from there whenever you can. It might not be as good as a professional’s but it provides her a taste of home. A taste of your love, which is her favorite flavor.]
Rose [It’s no secret that roses are Signora’s favorite flower. Beautiful yet thorny, alluring yet dangerous. There are many kinds of roses with all sorts of meanings in this world, but you two have been seen exchanging only one kind - a red one. Whatever could it mean?]
“Birthdays…”
Sender: Pantalone
When I was a child, birthdays did not mean much to me. After all, how could one focus on their date of birth when it seemed like life was full of nothing but curses and suffering? It was only another day of working to survive. But when I met [Name], they changed that. With them, the day began to have… meaning. Purpose. It wasn’t anything grand, but they made it special, distracting me from another day of poverty. Even with their meager earnings, they never failed to gift me something, even if it was of little to no value, or not the best quality… I cherished it. No one else had ever thought of me so much. When I look back, every time my birthday came around again, my love for them only grew more.
Now that we are adults, my only wish is to repay their kindness and spoil them with as many gifts as they deserve. However, there are a few issues with this. There are times I find myself more disappointed with the world than usual because it has yet to create something that would be a suitable gift that would be on par with my love for my dear [Name]. However, whenever my spouse gifts me something, their thoughtfulness never ceases to amaze me. How is it that they always manage to gift me something wonderful and touching? When I questioned them about this, they raised an eyebrow and gave me a strange look. It seems that I will not learn their secret anytime soon. How unfortunate.
Not to mention, dearest [Name] gets upset when I spend “ludicrous amounts of money” (their words) on them, especially on my birthday, so they’ve “forbidden” me from doing so today. They are rather persistent on this, and their long lectures and expressions are rather amusing, so I’ll indulge them… for now. Do you think they realize I’ll just spend double the amount the next day? Regardless, birthdays are always well spent with [Name], and I plan to enjoy this one fully, just as I have in the past because they are the one who makes my birthday a day worth celebrating.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Pantalone and you in it. The two of you are taking a walk in Snezhnaya, browsing stores and the like. Even though it is Pantalone’s birthday, he seems insistent on trying to buy out a few stores for you once again… so in order to prevent him from doing that, you’ve hidden yourself in his coat, stopping him from walking properly. The Harbinger seems rather entertained by your antics and your head popping out of his coat… he should make you do this more often. It’s perfect for head pats.
Attached Items:
Pantalone’s Spare Change [As it is his birthday, Pantalone is feeling more generous than usual, so he is sending a bit of funds to the Traveler. There is no need for any repayment, take it as a symbol of the Fatui’s goodwill. (However, it would do good to proceed with caution… this is the Ninth, after all.) Opening it up, the duo expects to see an average amount of money, but instead are presented with a couple of million Mora… if this is what Pantalone is willing to send to the Traveler, how much does he spend on [Name]?! Paimon doesn’t want to imagine the number!]
[Name]’s Guide to Gift Giving [A piece written by you to detail how you always choose the best gift for Pantalone, unbeknownst to your husband. Opening it up, the Traveler is very curious as to how you manage to win over the Harbinger every time, a man who has everything he could possibly want at his fingertips. But instead, only one sentence is written on the paper - “I don’t know how I do it either.”]
“Appreciation.”
Sender: Arlecchino
Birthdays were not very much celebrated in the House of Hearth, especially when the former Knave was around. However, that changed when [Name] came along. Years ago, I still remember when they gifted Lynette her first tea cup set. Freminet, a collection of spare parts that he ended up using to make another clockwork toy. And probably the biggest hassle… gifting little Lyney a white rabbit. However, I do appreciate my lover’s efforts. The children always look forward to their birthdays much more now, some even going as far as to drop hints about their desired gift and give puppy eyes to [Name] when the time rolls around. I have to remind my children not to get greedy, and to be grateful for what they already have…
I also remember the first birthday they gifted me something as well. A part of me expected it, considering the way they behaved, but still, it was an… unfamiliar feeling, to be gifted something. And, it was also the day little Lyney and Lynette presented their first amateur magic show to me. Of course, they had much to improve on, but looking back it was a suitable birthday gift, considering how much I’ve seen the two grow now. Needless to say, I appreciate [Name] very much, for what they have given me and my children.
My birthday has come once more, and [Name] is celebrating it as they always feel the need to. Really, even if they did nothing, I would still appreciate it, considering all they’ve done. The sweets they gathered this time were exceptional, and we had a lovely chat, before taking a walk through Fontaine. They say that the flowers that grow in the wild are always the prettiest, especially the Rainbow Roses.
Ah, last of all, if you could do me a favor, that would be greatly appreciated. You have been in Fontaine for a while now, yes? It would be a great help to me if you could point me to some good operas. [Name] and I have watched many in Snezhnaya, however, we don’t often have the chance to watch any in Fontaine, with our work and all. Thank you. And please, do not bore me or waste my time.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Arlecchino and you in it. You two are sitting in a field in Fontaine somewhere, with Rainbow Roses to the side. One of them has been tucked into the Harbinger’s hair, while you seem to be focusing on creating… a flower crown? Despite the pinkness of the rose greatly contrasting with Arlecchino’s whole dark red, black, and white look, she seems to not mind your antics and waits patiently for you to complete your work of art. Of course, as a Fontainian, she knows very well what Rainbow Roses symbolize, and won’t turn down the physical manifestation of your feelings.
Attached Items:
List of Yummy Hidden Gems [A list of great places to buy sweets from in Fontaine, courtesy of [Name], passed on by Arlecchino. Sure, Hotel Debord and Café Lutece do have some excellent sweets, but there are many hidden restaurants and bakeries that provide delicious treats as well! Do stop by and give them a try. Arlecchino favors many of their products. If one needs a similar list for the other nations, do tell.]
Slice of Birthday Cake [An exquisite slice of cake cut from Arlecchino’s birthday cake. She doesn’t care much for the tradition, but [Name] always buys one anyway as an excuse to treat the children from the House to something nice. You know you shouldn’t spoil them so much, but you can’t help it!]
“Splash!”
Sender: Tartaglia
Hey comrade! How have you been? Sorry if my handwriting isn’t the best. I sparred with [Name] for my birthday, and they really roughed me up. Not that I mind, I asked them to go all out. Normally they don’t like fighting with me, because they always insist they don’t like hurting me, but they couldn’t say no to me today. You know, I would like to see the two of you fight. It would be an exhilarating experience.
But anyway, after they patched me up, we took a dive in Fontaine’s waters! You know, whenever I visit Liyue, we often go to cool off in Yaoguang Shoal, but Fontaine’s oceans are so much different. The scenery, the terrain, the greenery, the wildlife… good thing I bought them a waterproof Kamera. Speaking of wildlife, [Name] and I befriended a blubberbeast. [Name] instantly fell in love with the creature, and I feel as though they gave a bit too much attention to it, but, seeing them smile is the best gift I could ever ask for. Maybe I should gift them a plushie of it? However, it is a bit amusing that something that looks as defenseless as that could pack such a punch!
Did you know this, Traveler? Apparently, Romaritime Flowers represent loyalty. [Name] gifted me a bouquet which I was initially confused about since I usually give them flowers instead. But after some quick research, these flowers mean unbreaking oaths. It was a bit ironic really, for I should have gifted them instead as I always swore to be loyal to them, my family, and the Tsaritsa, but it was a wonderful gift. Not to mention the delicious meal they prepared. They’ve been busy researching the best Fontaine recipes for me, so I could make them for Teucer and the others back home, but maybe I should just drag them to Snezhnaya so they could do it instead… I never leave anything but empty plates whenever [Name] cooks for me, but they’ve packaged some for you too, Traveler!
Next time we fight at the Golden House, I’ll bring [Name] along too. Do you think you can hold your own against both of us at the same time?
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Childe and you in it. You two are under the sea, with a Blubberbeast between the two of you. The creature is nudging you while Childe looks on amused. It seems that it’s been begging for some more attention, food, and head pats. Maybe some tummy rubs too. Apparently, you named it Big Cutie, because well… it’s a big cutie! Unfortunately, it seems to have a little bit of a grudge against the Harbinger because he accidentally attacked it.
Attached Items:
[Name]’s Special Macarons [Rainbow Macarons but with a special twist from [Name]. On the top and bottom of the sweet treat are… faces? Very detailed ones too, with colored hair and eyes! Ah, the faces are none other than [Name], Childe, Teucer, and all of his other siblings! Oh, and macarons of Traveler and Paimon were made as well, how kind! Childe says they’re quite delicious, and he is a great cook, so they must be.]
Freshly Caught Fish [Fish caught by Childe. It seems that the two lovers also went fishing after diving a bit, as one knows how much Childe loves to fish. Sadly, your fishing skills still pale in comparison compared to his and you barely caught anything… That’s alright though! No matter how long it takes, he’ll always happily help you hone your skills!]
2K notes · View notes
explicit-tae · 3 months
Note
ik it would be very out of character but i’d LOVE to see ungodly hour’s jk react to oc admitting she likes (or loves 🫣) him!! knowing him he’d cry
thank you for your amazing work !!!! ly<3
honestly let me just write about it
Ungodly Hour
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Word Count: 3.413
Warning: dirty talking, oral sex (f), alcohol intake, intoxicated/unprotected sex, fingering, creampie, overstimulation, riding, love confessions,
“Okay,” Jungkook enters the living room hastily as you arrive, a gift bag in your hand. “I finally finished it.”
“You know you didn’t have to make me wait until you were done.” you tell Jungkook as you sit on the couch. “I’ve had the gift for weeks now.”
“We couldn’t exchange gifts until mine was complete.” Jungkook says.
Jungkook had insisted on waiting to exchange gifts. You knew he was making you something - he kept it hidden in an extra bedroom that he locked to assure you didn’t peek. He also refused to look at whatever gift you got him and prompted that you take it out the house so he himself would be tempted. 
“Well,” you hold out the gift bag - it’s medium sized and a sparkly blue. “Merry Christmas.”
Jungkook notes that you’re nervous as he takes the bag and he isn’t sure why. He would be happy with whatever you gave him - even if he was surprised initially that you told him you got him a gift. He would often think about what it was.
Jungkook opens the gift bag and takes out the rectangular box. He sees the bottom first - it’s a solid yellow color. He flips it around to inspect it, the rest of the sides being black. His eyes capture the name on the top of the box. His eyes widened. 
“Y/N…?”
Now Jungkook understands why you’re nervous. His eyes flicker to you in disbelief. “This camera is expensive!” he gasps. “How did you know-”
“I saw it on your wishlist.” you say, licking your lips. “When you let me borrow your laptop, you left a few tabs open.”
You weren’t going to admit that you were snooping for answers. Jungkook seemingly had everything there was to get and buying a gift for him was becoming difficult. 
Jungkook opens the box gently, his eyes softening at the camera. “You must’ve spent a lot on it…” he says, trailing off. He knows the exact price and knowing that you spent thousands on a gift for him pulls at his heart strings. “Thank you.”
You give Jungkook a smile. “I can finally quit my job now that I’ve spent a few checks on a gift.” you say, joking with Jungkook to lighten the mood. 
“You can!” Jungkook smiles back with a nod.
“Just kidding.” you sing-song. “Don’t be so gullible.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes and snorts. He places the camera beside him. “Always teasing me with a good time.” he murmurs. “Now for yours.”
Jungkook had wrapped the canvas neatly. It’s a decent size, you noticed, maybe 11 inches all around. Your heart is beating with anticipation as you unwrap it.
Jungkook awaits your reaction, his own nerves hiking. “Do you…like it?” he murmurs. You haven’t said anything and instead have been analyzing the painting silently, expression unreadable.
The painting is full of life, emotion. The scenery is what you initially noted, a mountain of flowers that seemingly went on for miles by the way Jungkook had painted it. The flowers are colorful, different shades of yellow, orange and pink. The sky holds bright gray clouds, covering the sun that appears to be setting. What captures your attention fully are the hands. Both pairs of hands are connected by the pinky with one wrist sporting a gold watch and the other a bracelet while the arms are painted to appear out of the canvas frame.
“This is us.” you say aloud, glancing up at Jungkook. It was a picture you and he had taken a few weeks back. You recall telling Jungkook that it was one of your favorite pictures of the two of you together that didn’t showcase faces. 
Jungkook nods. “It is.” he agrees. “You said it was your favorite picture so I painted it.”
Your throat tightens at his words.
Fuck Jeon Jungkook, you think, because this was entirely too much for you to handle. Your mother didn’t raise a weak woman who felt like she was seconds away from crying tears because of how happy she felt.
You blame it on your period that must be nearing - even if you never cry on your period. 
“Thank you.” you murmur to Jungkook, glancing away shyly to avoid his gaze. “I love it.” you say sincerely, and the admission causes Jungkook to smile.
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“You’re d-drunk.” Jungkook snorted before full on laughing as you stumbled through his bedroom door.
“Fuck you.” you retort, plopping yourself down onto Jungkook’s large bed. “So are you.” you slur back.
Jungkook doesn’t deny it.
This is what happens when you drink with friends - more importantly, Jimin. It was nothing new, Jimin always insisted on going into the new year buzzed - this time, they all just went a little overboard. Luckily, Jungkook had agreed for the party to be at his apartment so he could just walk down the hall to his bedroom.
Of course, Jungkook would soon come to regret it because that meant that he would have to clean the mess they made in the morning - but you were with him, so that was a plus.
“Not as drunk as you.” Jungkook closes the door behind him, along with the loud music and laughter of everyone just down the hall in his living room. “Told you to not challenge Jimin.”
“Fuck Jimin…” you murmur to yourself, more so because Jungkook was right.
However, you wouldn’t say you challenged Jimin - he was the one who came to you with a whole cup of alcohol declaring that you were, in his words, too much of a coward to drink.
It was a complete set up, Jungkook knows this, but the only thing he could do was assure you had water and a lot of greasy food ready for when you were going to need it - and luckily he was there to do so. You’re sure you would’ve been passed out long ago.
Jungkook squints his eyes at you, an attempt to get a look at your lying figure. You and he had matched tonight - an idea that was yours. You wore a long sleeved-black dress with a deep v cut that stopped mid thigh while he wore a compressed black shirt (by your request ) and ripped jeans. 
“Do you need to throw up?” Jungkook asks, stumbling  closer to you when he hears a low moan-like whine. “I told you not to drink so-“
“Shut up,” you sit up and look directly at Jungkook. “Can I sit on your face?” 
Jungkook stops in his tracks, his doe eyes widening slightly. Yes is what he wants to say - he loves the act of pleasuring you. However, he’s unsure if he should be doing anything with you in your intoxicated state. 
“You’re drunk-“
“We’re drunk.” you correct, eyes narrowing at him - and also focusing on him all of the same because the room was still spinning. 
“True.” Jungkook murmurs to himself, trailing off. “Still, I don’t want to take advantage-“
“Save the theatrics, Kookie.” you’re already tugging your underwear off, the lacy material falling right by his bed. “Unless you…”
You don’t finish your sentence and Jungkook titls hisnhead. “What?”
“…unless you suddenly don’t like me anymore.” you whisper, and slowly, your eyes widen as if you had figured out the biggest secret. No other world conspiracy was important - not the Bermuda triangle, not whoever the fuck Jack the Ripper is or whether if Atlantis was ever real. No, not even your favorite cold cases could be as important as this new revelation of Jeon Jungkook not liking you anymore. 
“Now you’re extremely drunk .” Jungkook cackles. “Of course I like you!”
It brings Jungkookk back to when you were convincing him that you liked him, now it was the other way around. His heart swells with your drunken ramblings and overall cute appearance. 
“You don’t.” You cross your arms over your chest. “You refuse to have me sit on your face.” you say, and Jungkook realizes that he truly spoils you like everyone claims he does - you never got told no to mainly anything. 
“So who gets to sit on your face?” you ask with narrow eyes. “I bet-“
“Don’t say that girl's name.” Jungkook cuts you off before you can get started. “You know you’re my girl, Y/N.”
“So you hate me.” you deadpan, saying the words matter-of -factly. “All of a sudden you aren’t obsessed-“
“I am!” Jungkook interrupts, raising his voice. He couldn’t believe that this was a conversation that needed to be had and if he remembered this sober, it’s something he was definitely going to tease you about. 
“Hm.” you uncross your arms and stand to your feet. “I'm going to go party with Jimin.” 
Jungkook steps in front of you. “You aren’t wearing any underwear.” he states. “That and you’re already had enough to drink-“
“If you aren’t going to fuck me,” you wave your hand in his face to stop his speech. “then I’m going to go out there and drink with Jimin.”
If Jimin knew that he was the person that would be used against him it would cause ultimate chaos in the groupchat and in his friend group. 
Jungkook licks his lips. He doesn’t have time to entertain his and your friends any longer. He can only imagine how it would look if he chased after you because you wanted to be drunk and petty. The room is already spinning for him as it is for you and he knows that it wouldn’t be a good idea. 
“You’re such a bitch…” Jungkook murmurs, tone low. It’s a tone that you’re all too familiar with - and you know that you had Jungkook where you wanted him. “Get on the bed.”
You do as you’re told, laying on Jungkook’s bed and open your legs, dress hiking up entirely. 
Jungkook drops to his knees and hooks his hands beneath your thighs. You yelp when he snatches you closer to him. His lips place themselves onto your inner thigh and he presses a kiss. “I spoil you too much.”
Jungkook kisses closer and closer to your heat and he does so to tease you. “You looked so good tonight.” He couldn’t help but cave, wanting to give you whatever you wanted of him. 
Fingernails dig into your skin as Jungkook speaks against your skin. 
“You did, too.” you hitch your breath when you feel Jungkook's lips directly against your clit. 
Jungkook kisses it gently. “Thank you, baby. So needy.”
Your back arches when you feel it, wet tongue sliding directly up your clit. He dips it between your folds, holding you directly still so he can pleasure you like you desperately wanted him to. 
Eyes flickering up, Jungkook grunts. So beautiful, he always thinks of you. You couldn’t help but grow spoiled because he never told you no for anything. However, it wasn’t something he could help - you don’t ask for much to begin with.
The room continues to spin, but you no longer care. Your body erupts with arousal and it clouds your being entirely. You should’ve never drunk as much as you did, but there was no taking back the past. Besides, you cannot remember being filled with lust when you would drink prior - you’re unsure why you appear so insatiable.
“Feels so good, Kookie.” you moan, hips buckling against the rhythm of his tongue. The top half of the dress constricts your body entirely and you cannot wait until you can get out of it. “So, so good.”
Jungkook's eyes are as dark as can be and he’s positive he is a man starved right now. The alcohol runs through his system and causes his movement to be sloppy, but capable. His tongue completely savors your arousal, suckling on your clit to dipping between your folds and now, plunging it inside of you entirely.
“You must want me to fuck you.” Jungkook disclosed. “Your pussy’s clenching around nothing.”
How correct Jungkook was and you’re far from sober, so there was no snarky remark for you to retort with. You were beyond your regular self - you weren’t going to deny anything because you truly, desperately wanted Jungkook.
Your sober self would surely be screaming at you when your intoxication wore off.
Jungkook would lean back a bit every few minutes, his lips and chin fully coated in you. His tongue would still be flicking against your swollen clit and he’s truly doing this as an act to tease you further. He likes when your breath - that you’d be holding - would release when he gave you a bit of a teasing break, all before he devoured you once more.
“Kookie,” you moan Jungkook’s name so lovingly - it’s hard not to want to be between your legs for hours. His hand is bruising the skin of your thigh to hold you against his tongue. “wanna cum.”
Jungkook’s eyes stare into yours, a silent telepathic moment that tells you that he wasn’t stopping you from cumming. But he is also not a fool when it comes to you or your body and soon, you feel your pussy - so greedy to be stuffed and full - stretched out with his fingers.
Jungkook loves your whimpering and moaning - more so when you don’t hide them from his ears. There’s a party right outside his door where people are all huddling to celebrate the new year, and here the two of you were forgetting about them entirely. 
Jungkook plunges his fingers deep inside of you. He hits the familiar sweet spot he knows so well, your thighs quivering in the process. His tongue licks circles around your clit, fingerings thrusting rhythmically. Your moans bounces off the walls and louder than the muffled music in the background.
Jungkook doesn’t mind when your hands grip his hair tightly because he just knows that you’re going through it - and he has no intention of stopping until you’re cumming on his tongue. It’s close, he notes, the way your walls are clenching around his fingers greedily and your cries grow louder and louder in contrast to the way your fingers grips into his hair.
Jungkook allows you to ride against your own high, laying his tongue flat against your clit and allowing you to grind against his tongue, fingers plunging deep inside of you. Your high comes hard, body twitching and Jungkook allows it all to happen, determined to make sure you are satisfied completely before he stops.
You feel dizzy when your high slowly comes down, your forehead lined with sweat and your body completely flushed. Your body molds itself against Jungkook’s soft sheets, your breathing slowing down.
“Where are you going…?” you ask Jungkook when you no longer feel his presence before you. Your eyes flutter open. 
“Nowhere.” Jungkook responds sincerely. “We should get you out of this dress for bed-”
“Bed?” your senses peak and you jolt upright, eyes narrowed once more. “I want to ride you first.”
Jungkook snorts and stumbles back a bit at your sudden action. “You’ve already came so hard, baby. Are you sure-”
You aren’t listening to Jungkook in the slightest. You’re tugging the dress off of you entirely and getting naked right before his eyes. 
Jungkook is but a man and there isn’t much convincing he needs - especially not when you’re tugging him towards you needily. You connect your lips to his while pushing him against the bed. Jungkook loves how needy you are - how much you express that you want him. Of course, he knows that you do any other time - but this time it’s different; getting to witness just how much you want him is a feeling he never knew he craved.
Your fingernails dig into Jungkook’s clothed shoulders as you slowly feel him inside of you. You push him backwards so that he’s laying on the bed, your hips rising and falling.
“Fuck,” Jungkook groans, hands firmly on your hips. You’re going so fast, fully determined to cum once more - and Jungkook couldn’t be upset. Your face displays just how good you felt in this moment. “your pussy feels so good, baby.”
Your pussy clenches around Jungkook as if responding to his words. By the time the pair of you were done, you were going to be bruised entirely with Jungkook’s hand marks. 
Jungkook finds it hard to look at you - not when you looked so completely fucked out and beautiful. He’s unsure where your stamina appeared - maybe you were just that fucked out and drunk; that you didn’t care that you were overstimulating yourself (and him). 
Jungkook clenches his eyes shut to get the image of you out of his head, but all it does is follow him in his thoughts. Your naked figure using him to pleasure yourself, your bouncing breast to your creaming pussy dripping all over him and making a complete mess.
Jungkook is so hot - so beautiful himself. He’s hissing to himself with clenched eyes, experiencing pure bliss just as you were. His forehead is covered in sweat and a few strands of hair are sticking to it. 
Jungkook feels a hand upon his cheek and his eyes open. They're so dark and full of lust - similar to your own. Your eyes connect to his and Jungkook swallows, adam’s apple bobbing.
“Drunk Y/N is so needy.” Jungkook jokes, voice deep and raspy. “Drunk actions are sober intentions.”
Jungkook begins to thrust upwards, matching your rhythm. His thrusts are brutal, fully determined to satiate your hunger for him. His eyes never leave yours, the pair of you stuck in an intimate, lust-filled moment.
“I-I’m gonna cum again!” you mewl, breaking eye-contact first to shut them tight. The familiar sensation bubbles into you again and Jungkook only fucks into you harder, pounding with all his might; how the both of you could be drunk and full of stamina is beyond him.
Your walls are squeezing around Jungkook and within seconds, your juices squirt around Jungkook entirely, fully coating his abdomen. “I-I-” Your body is twitching, your head pushed back when Jungkook hears your words. “I love you.”
Jungkook is still for a moment, completely silent. He’s contemplating if he heard you correctly and before he can speak, you repeat yourself. “I love you.” it’s low and a bit slurred, but Jungkook hears it entirely.
“You’re drunk.” Jungkook laughs it off, cheeks flushed and heart beating out his chest. He doesn’t want to call you a liar - you wouldn’t have said it if it wasn’t true. However, you’re drunk and maybe you meant to say you loved the way he was fucking you -
“Shut up,” you say, walls tightening on Jungkook’s cock. “I do love you.”
You yelp when you feel your back hit the soft mattress, all without Jungkook removing himself from inside of you. The room continues to spin for you two, but neither of you could bring yourselves to care. 
“You’re going to forget you said that.” Jungkook begins to thrust, holding you close in his embrace. “Gonna deny it until the end of time.”
“I love you.” you repeat and Jungkook’s pounding only increases. Skin slapping echoes off the wall and the two of you are so entranced in the moment that neither of you notice the music dying down outside the room. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too.” Jungkook whimpers with a shake of his head. His thoughts are consumed by your words - the love confession. 
Jungkook could never get tired of hearing it and at this moment, you don’t get tired of saying it. You repeat it over and over again as Jungkook continues to fuck inside of you. You’re creaming his cock, a white ring forming around the shaft and Jungkook couldn’t get enough of you.
I love you.
I love you.
You love him, Jungkook’s thrilled at the revelation. His head drops back as his body tenses up, his thrust becoming sloppy. “Say it again, baby.” he pleads with a choked whimper. He needed to hear you say it again, as selfish as it was - he’s unsure how long it’d be before he could hear it again.
“Fuck,” your pussy is seeping with arousal and staining his sheets, your clit swollen and pulsing. “I love you, Kookie.”“Oh, shit…I love you, too, baby.” Jungkook continues to stretch your pussy completely until he’s shooting hot cum directly inside of you, a hand directly on your stomach as he does so. He’s panting, the both of you covered in sweat and bodily fluids.
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hee-pster · 5 months
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。゚゚・。・゚゚。
゚。 𝟛𝔻 ゚ 𝕒 𝕝𝕖𝕖 𝕙𝕖𝕖𝕤𝕖𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕒𝕝 . .
𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: birthday boy!heeseung x best friend!reader
𝕘𝕖𝕟𝕣𝕖: smut, idiots in love
𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: after so long of waiting, Heeseung finally gets the birthday gift he has been wishing for — you, and the three words he’s been dying to hear from you.
𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 5.7k 😇
𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: big d*ck!heeseung, h*rny heeseung, mast*rbation, or*l s*x, finger*ng, teasing, edging, choking, rough s*x, bathroom s*x, unprotected s*x, creampie, a lot of kissing, pet names, slight c*m play, a lot of describing I’m sorry idk how to shut up, lmk if there’s more
𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕤: firstly I’m sorry bc I said I wouldn’t write an article but I ended up doing just that, and secondly I know hee’s bd has already passed but please for this once pretend as if it didn’t for me 🥲🙏🏼 it’s been so long since I’ve last written something with this length so I feel like I’m a bit crusty, but I hope you’ll like it regardless 🥹🥹 please lmk what you think after reading, enjoy 🩷🩷
⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ︶  ⊹  ︶︶    ୨୧  ︶︶  ⊹ ︶
Heeseung has a birthday wish for this year, a kind of unique one. 
You see, there’s not actually some “thing” he wants, but there’s a some “one” instead — someone very special, you, his best friend. 
Cliche you may think and trust me he knows, but god can he stop himself from loving you, from imagining gut wrenchingly cute scenarios with you every time you two come eye to eye. 
And though there’s plenty of cuteness, that’s not all there is because sometimes — by sometimes a mean concerningly often, he just cannot control his mind from going further, deeper into the delululand, where things escalate to r-rated scenarios that are so good that he fucking drools wishing they become true. 
He hates it, I promise he does, but gosh he loves it even more — he loves how the mere thought of pleasuring you is enough to get him jacking off the whole night, just like right now, on the night of 14th October.
There’s less than three hours left for his birthday and he’s there, naked on his bed with his phone in his hand, restlessly jerking the shit out of his rock hard dick to your insta feed, thanking the gods for blessing the earth with your existence.
Because you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, he’s in love, from your head to your toe, truly, madly and deeply. 
“Fuck, I love you,” he whispers in a weak whimper, rubbing his hardened shaft thoroughly, pressing his angry head for more stimulus,  “I love you so fucking much y/n, why can’t you notice me?”  
Really though, why can’t you?
Isn’t it obvious from the way he looks at you, from the way his breath hitches every time you look at him, or from the way he stutters each word that he speaks at your near presence? 
He’s quite literally fighting for dear life only to function properly around you, which is too embarrassing to admit but even more embarrassing to deny at this point, he’s helpless. 
He wants you. 
He needs you. 
He craves you. 
“Notice me, please.” he begs against his screen before giving your picture a bitter kiss, that’s his only wish for his birthday — a chance, a chance to show his undying love for you. He doesn’t even ask for you to accept it or accept him, all he wants is to have the freedom of not filtering his feelings for you for a single night, if that’s all that he can get.
And god he could give everything for that night to be tonight, his birthday night, which is only a few hours away.
A few hours — that’s more than enough time to prepare the world’s bestest birthday gift ever, at least in your case it is, because you’re almost completely done. 
Your hair is done, your makeup is done, your fit is done . . all you’re missing is a perfume, and for that you reach for your half used Dior bottle, to spray yourself with Heeseung’s favorite scent ever. 
And voila, you’re all set, looking like one of Victoria’s Secret angels, glowing like a fairy inside your black, completely see through lingerie that you have bought specifically for tonight. 
Yes, you’re the birthday gift that you’ve prepared for your best friend, Heeseung, who you have been dying to fuck since forever. And thanks to Jake, your mutual friend, you finally know that you can.
You see, it was painful — so unbelievably painful for Jake to watch the two of you constantly make complete fools of yourselves each time you had to stand on the same ground while trying to deny the obvious sexual tension between you, instead of simply accepting it for the sake of everyone’s mental health, especially Jake’s.  
So he, being the bigger person than you and Heeseung combined, decided to do you both a favor by telling you, the lesser coward one in his eyes, about how hard of a crush his best buddy has for you, in hopes of putting an end to this misery once and for all. 
Don’t get him wrong, Jake is fully aware that he has no business butting in but, knowing how big of a loser Heeseung tends to be when it comes to things like romance, he just couldn’t sit and do nothing anymore. 
He had to do something, so he did, to give his friend of ten years the actual best birthday gift ever. 
And long story short, his plan worked, which is why Heeseung is minutes away from being the literal happiest man on earth, though he’s completely clueless about it as he moans and chants your name in broken whines, making a complete mess on his mattress as he cums all over it, pearly strands of his load spilling everywhere including his thighs, sheets and even his bedroom floor. 
Geez, if you can make him orgasm this hard with only the thought of you, he can’t imagine just how great you would feel to actually have on his cock, he’s weak. 
While violently panting, he falls back on his bed flat, “Fuck, this felt so good,” he thinks to himself out loud, not knowing that he’s about to experience the real deal in 3D. 
And then, just when he decides to go get a quick shower to clean up, his doorbell rings, which freezes him on the spot on his way to his bathroom. He checks the clock, it’s eleven pm, who the fuck decided to visit him this late on a fucking saturday night? 
Maybe Jake? He thinks to himself as he grabs his shower towel from the shelf and wraps it around his waist quickly, thinking that he’s right with his guess as he takes quick steps to get to his front door before the bell rings again. 
He really really hates how loud that thing is, gosh. 
“The fuck do you want Ja-” he stops mid-sentence after opening the door, because once the light bulbs on and reveals the true identity of his late night visitor in all it’s gorgeousness, it also proves how wrong Heeseung was with his guess.
It was not Jake with the corrupted conception of time, it was you — the reason why he’s wet with sweat and short of breath. 
 “Y/n?” he murmurs your name, brows coming together and forming a handsome knot on his forehead as he stares at your half frozen figure standing in front of him, wearing nothing but a trenchcoat and a pair of high heels. 
And this is probably the stupidest thing to think while you’re literally shaking from the cold, but fuck, you love it when Heeseung frowns. 
You actually love everything he does, including how he’s currently displaying his half naked body to you right now. 
Speaking of which, you wonder why he’s there with only a shower towel around his waist, and why on earth is he gasping for air? Did he just take a shower and run to get the door? But his hair looks dry, you shake your head, or maybe he was about to get one?
Oh, he better be.
Perfect timing, you think to yourself, as you step inside before you freeze to death, now he’s got a company to help him wash up — not necessarily to speed up the process, but you know, to make the whole experience more fun. 
“Not very happy to see me, hm Hee?” you ask playfully as you push the door behind you, before walking up dangerously close to him. And he has to say that your makeup, it looks super cute, especially your lashes, he loves them a lot. 
Please don’t think he’s a weirdo for thinking this way but gosh, he really hopes that whatever mascara it is that you put on, it’s not a waterproof one. Because I mean, you know, in case you let him do things that will lead to him ruining the whole look in the making. 
Yes, he wants to watch your mascara running down your pretty cheeks as you choke in tears on his cock okay? Since for some reason, he has a weird feeling that it’s exactly what you’re here for — just like he also has a weird feeling that you’re wearing nothing but your underwear underneath your beige trench coat.
“On the contrary,” he responds, shooting you a flirty smirk, “I couldn’t be happier to see you Y/n,” he says, stepping closer to decrease the barely existing gap in between your bodies, “I was just thinking about you.”  
So fucking shameless, you think, classic Heeseung. 
“You were?” 
“Mhm.”
“What were you thinking about?”
He bites his lips to contain the widening of his smile at your question, he knows that the towel around his waist and the sweat dripping down from his neck is enough to explain everything to you, yet you’re here, still asking as if he has any patience whatsoever left to watch you play dumb anymore.
He has had it with you honestly, he really has. 
“Stuff.” he shortly replies, shrugging his shoulders, watching as your pupils widen under his dim lights with pure excitement. Oh you so know what he means by that, he can see it in your eyes, and he really just wants you to quit playing around and take off that coat already. 
It’s obvious that you’re wearing nothing but your underwear underneath it anyways, a very fancy one at that he may say, a sexy lingerie being his best guess judging by the outline of the straps that he can trace through the thin layer of fabric now that you’re close enough.
He knows he’s right, and he knows that you wore it for him, as a birthday gift he supposes, which is truly a dream come true. Hence why he’s so impatient, but to his luck, you seem to be quite dedicated to being your most stubborn today. 
“What kind of stuff?” 
Oh come on Y/n, he thinks, sighing exasperatedly as he moves even closer and tilts his head to avoid bumping his nose on yours, “Stuff that you came here for.” he then says, whispering his words right against your lips.
Fucking bold of him, you’re surprised — pleasantly surprised.  
“What do you think I came here for?”
“Why don’t you remove that coat and show it to me yourself?”
And your heart fucking stops. 
The way he talks to you, the way he looks at you, the way he stands so close to you that you feel the heat of his skin makes your heart rush inside your chest, and although you really want to hide how flabbergasted you are, you just can’t. 
Because Heeseung seems to be aware of everything now, finally, and the least he can say is that having this much power on you feels surreal. 
You’re the girl of his dreams, his ‘impossible crush’ in his own words yet here you are, holding your breath as he removes the said coat from off your shoulders and drops it next to your feet on the floor instead, leaving you in nothing but your almost fully see through, quite exclusive black lingerie.
Guess I was right, he thinks to himself as he eyes you up, and god damn, you look out of this world. 
At the groundbreakingly beautiful sight before him, Heeseung ends up only being able to stare, his jaw hitting the floor. Trust me, he also really wants to close his mouth, and use his words to express his thoughts but first, just give him a minute to control his drooling please. 
Because he literally just wants to eat you — devour you, in better words, he can’t help it.
“Y/n, you’re so . . fuck . .” is what he manages to voice out before he forgets how to speak, because honestly, there’s no vocabulary out there which can do justice to the way you look, no matter how hard he searches for it. 
You’re just fascinating, enough to make him roll his eyes, enough to make his dick twitch. 
“I’m so what? Pretty?” 
“Prettiest,” he corrects you as he cups your cheeks, oh you’re bold too, which only doubles his urge to fuck you, “all for me, right?” 
As you give him a soft nod, he breathes out a tender ‘good girl’ before finally connecting his lips with yours — safe to say he unleashes a million butterflies inside your stomach by doing just that, and this is only the beginning of just how good he plans to make you feel tonight. 
With an arm around your waist, and a hand supporting your ass, he then lifts you up as the kiss deepens and becomes sloppier, messier, so much so that in no time, you begin to gasp in each other’s mouth.
Yet neither of you pull back, not you, especially.
Because as much as you need air, you need him even more. You’re burning in flames for him, in lust and desire, it’s like he’s all that there is for you, and beyond him, you can’t perceive anything else. Just like how you don’t even realize being carried to his bathroom, until your back hits against the cold walls of his shower. 
Yet even the freezing chill you feel on your bare skin fails to separate you from his sweet lips, and in that very moment, you realize just how starved you were up until now. 
His touch, you have been starving for it, and now that you’re finally feeling it, you just crave more. 
You crave more of Heeseung, with your whole body, with every single cell that you own.
And unsurprisingly, Heeseung experiences the very same. 
He wants to be gentle, he wants to be so very delicate with you, except he can’t really shush down the voices inside his head that tells him to just throw you around, and fuck you till your eyes go white at every single available surface possible. 
God, he has been holding back for so long, he’s at the brink of exploding. 
Which is why he clumsily slams you back flat against the wall with no real intentions of being so rough, murmuring out a small apology into the kiss as he, after struggling for a couple minutes, finally manages to get rid of the towel that has been weighing around his waist since the beginning of the night.  
Once the pillowy material plops onto the floor, his dick springs free from underneath it, causing his swollen head to hit against the back of your thighs due to how fast it bounces up. It tickles a little, but only then you come to the realization of how unbelievably hard he actually is. 
Along with how big he must be to reach where it does right now. 
Like, we’re talking about approximately 7 inches here, if not more, according to your calculations.
That’s fucking huge, you think to yourself, as he positions his thickness right under your slit, and then begins to grind against your middle over the very thin fabric of your clothes.
And hah, you must be a math genius now because he indeed feels humongous — 7 inches humongous at the very least, you may say, you’re fucked.  
Because how on earth is that gonna fit in? 
With a moderately loud splash, the water begins to pour down through Heeseung’s shower head, and successfully manages to distract you from your worries for a short while with its warmth.  
Then he lets you down on the floor carefully, after stealing one last peck from your lips. And it makes you shiver with excitement, the way he looks at you straight in the eyes as he rests his forehead on yours I mean — suddenly you’re less anxious and much more eager, if that’s even possible. 
“Gosh Y/n, you drive me crazy,” he mumbles, with a voice so low that it makes your pussy clench around thin air as he brings a hand to cup one of your tits over your drenching underwear, “you’re so fucking beautiful, I feel like I’m dreaming.” 
And he’s so sweet, you feel like crying.
It’s actually ironic how he calls you beautiful whilst being the one with the cutest flushed cheeks, big doe eyes, pink plump lips and an adorable button nose. And the more you look at his face, the more you become aware of just how perfect it would feel as a seat — I mean, imagine the friction that nose can grant you, gosh, the thought of it alone has you pressing your thighs together. 
You want him so bad. 
Fuck it, you need him so bad, even if that means you’re gonna get your vocal cords torn, or your pussy ripped — you simply don’t care. 
You have to have him — down your throat, in your cunt, wherever available, it does not really signify, you just have to do something. 
“But you’re not dreaming,” so you say, placing your hands on each of his broad shoulders as you pepper him with kisses starting from his neck, going up to his jaw, sucking purple little spots on his honey skin, “I’m here and I’m very real, do you want me to prove it?” 
You see, he would answer that question with a very heartful yes, if only he could actually speak instead of choking on his own moans right now — props to you for beginning to rub his highly sensitive, stiffened cock without a warning. 
“Shitshitshit, baby—” he hisses as you press on his cum leaking head, and you feel lucky for being able to witness such a blissful moment as you proceed to lick his leak off your fingers, giving him a visual feast by doing so.
Oh he wants to fuck you so bad, god, you have no idea what you’re doing to him. 
You make him feral, you make him feel like he’s losing his mind with the way you manage to still look so innocent, so angel-like as you kneel down before him, hands firmly wrapped around his thick base, stroking him as you teasingly kiss his angry tip.
Your makeup is ruined, your mascara is staining your cheeks black but you’re breathtaking, so bold holding the eye contact, he can’t help but to twitch inside your petite palms.
You’re so hot, and he’s so weak, enough to cum just by looking at you.
And when you lean in, to lick him from base to top, he almost actually does, which is why he stops you almost immediately before you get the chance to give him a proper suck, and lifts you up back on your feet by using the hand he has entangled in your hair. 
He can’t cum just yet, not before he fucks that pretty pussy of yours. 
And the second you stand up, you find yourself pushed back against the wall, this time with his hand around your throat as he quite literally shoves his tongue down your mouth. 
The way he kisses you feels suffocating, especially combined with the pressure he applies onto your neck, you can’t even breathe properly let alone kiss him back.
You’re struggling real hard, and he’s very well aware of that — in fact he thinks it’s adorable how you scratch his forearms in desperation, while trying to contain your balance on the slippery floor.
Honestly, despite making him slightly worried about your well being by the end of the night, the fact that you’re such a mess already turns him on even more, to the point where he wants to rip that sexy lingerie off your body using his bare hands.
Except, he actually does.
One minute you’re standing there, on your tiptoes trying to reach his height inside your drenched bra as Heeseung massages your boobs over it and the next, you no longer wear one as he pulls it off your chest, then throws it onto the ground, not bothering to deal with the clasp. 
Shit, that was so hot, you think to yourself, but also so unnecessary.
Because that was an expensive fucking piece, which costed you more money than you currently have on your bank account.
Yeah, fine, maybe you’re a little too broke nowadays, alright. 
But still, you can’t believe it’s all ruined now — you can’t believe it’s nothing but a useless piece of lace anymore, fuck, you had so many plans with it, and so many things that you wanted to try. 
RIP . . .  I guess. 
“Shhh, I’m just unwrapping my gift babe,” Heeseung says just then, as if he can hear your thoughts, I mean he doesn’t really have to, when all that’s in your mind could be read through the expression on your face. 
You’re sad, understandably, but there’s no need for you to be. 
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll buy you new ones,” he whispers as he caresses your lips — the ones that he made bleed due to how much he bit and sucked on only mere minutes ago. 
“We can pick them together, as many of ‘em as you want, yeah?” 
Well shit, you can’t say no to that. 
That’s a very generous, very kind offer, you’d be a fool to decline. Because him paying for your lingeries is one thing, but him also helping you pick them? Fuck, just imagine how things can escalate starting from there. 
I’m talking about you and Heeseung, locked inside one of those tiny cabinets that people use to try some clothes on, him covering your mouth with his hands to shush down your moans as he fucks you from behind — bending you against the mirror for an even better view as you wear one of the pairs he has picked for you . .
Well, you are an exhibitionist, and you love the odds that this hypothetical situation has for public sex. 
So of course, your answer is an easy yes. 
And he can see it clearly, from the sheepish smile that grows bigger and bigger on your pretty face. 
“What? Like how that sounds?” he then asks, sliding a hand from your face down to your heat, sneakily tugging his fingers inside of your drenched thong. 
“Mhm, very,” you reply, hugging his neck to pull him close, letting him hook his other hand under one of your legs to gain himself more space as he lifts it up. 
“Good . .” he sighs, fanning his hot breath against your chin as he rubs his knuckles over your erected clit, and your reaction — the way you let out the most beautiful whine he’s ever heard, gosh, he wishes he could record that. 
“Ah shit, Heeseung—”
“Yes, angel?” 
“Fuck me,” you beg, pecking his lower lip as you grind against the back of his hand, in desperate need for any type of friction that you can get — god, you can’t stand this anymore, you want him,
“Fuck me now, please.” 
And he doesn’t need to be told twice.
“Anything you want, princess.” so he says and with a single move, drags your panties down from your ankles, before he tosses it next to your no-longer-in-function bralette on the floor. 
And just by doing so, his view gets ten times better. 
Because it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that your pussy is quite literally the prettiest one he’s ever seen, including the ones from his favorite porn collection — geez, he licks his lips, he’s fucking drooling. 
You look delicious, you look mouthwateringly appetizing, so much so that it becomes not a want, but a need for him to get on his knees and have a quick taste just to quench his thirst. 
But don’t get me wrong, him being quick doesn’t mean he’s inefficient by any means, the volume of your moans alone is a big proof of that. Because hell he’s so good with his tongue that it’s unbelievable, you’re lost for words, screaming his name with an empty brain. 
And the more he stays there, head buried into your slit, the more it starts to feel as if his tongue was specifically made to perfectly glide in between your folds. 
Everytime that wet muscle of his brushes past your hole, you become a little more insane. It's dangerous how your self respect and dignity hangs by a thin thread, ready to completely dump your body any minute now. 
Which happens faster than you can blink once he lands an intentional sharp smack on your clit, stimulating every single nerve you own in perfect harmony. 
“Fffuck, Heeseung!” you shriek, spasming against his mouth, “that felt so good,” you shamelessly confess, craving some more, “do it again, hit me, please.” 
Oh my gosh you’re embarrassing. 
However, you don’t really care. 
You don’t really care about anything besides Heeseung, who seems to be highly amused by your sudden request. 
“Do what? This?” he retorts before he slaps the same spot as previously, loving how your whole body jerks at such a simple yet impactful move. That’s fucking adorable, he thinks, as he rises back on his feet to give you a small peck on the lips. 
You’re the cutest, he’s a simp. 
And you probably both look dumb on the outside, giggling under the pouring water like two stupid lovers, unable to keep your curious hands to yourself but that’s the beauty in the moment, according to you at least, because of how everything feels so sincere, so natural, as if you’ve been dating for years. 
“Pussy slapping? Really? That’s what you’re into?” he teases as he hugs your waist, “Never thought you would be the kinky type.” 
“Shut up,” you say, nudging his nose with your own, feeling shy under his gaze all of a sudden, almost too much to even defend yourself, “it’s not my fault that it feels good, okay?”
God, he wants to bite those red cheeks of yours now, you need to stop being so endearing. 
“Yeah? Feels that good, hm?” 
“Mhm, so good.”
“How about this, then?” he asks as he grabs your right leg by the thigh, lifts it and splits it up to the side, then wraps it just above his hips as he fixes himself in your middle, thus having a perfect reach to your pussy, “Does this feel as good?” 
With that, he begins whacking his stiffened, veiny shaft against your hole, while pressing the swollen, red tip of it against your clit. And yes, it does feel as good — hell, it feels even better but, you no longer have any patience nor strength to bare any more teasing, you fucking need him inside you.  
“It’d feel even better inside of me,” so you say, begging him with your eyes, using his greatest weakness against him with zero guilt, “please Hee, put it inside me, please.” 
Sexy — so fucking sexy, he thinks as he watches you pour your heart out for his cock, and trust me, if it was any other time, he’d let you have it easily.
But because it is his birthday, he needs you to put in more work, he wants you to show him how far you can go beyond the lines of sweet talk if you want him that desperately. 
He wants you to lead him on. 
And thus, “Put it in yourself.” he replies as he reaches for your hand, then brings it over his cock, urging you to take action and make the first move.
So you do, shaking with both thrill and anxiety as you point his tip at your hole, hissing at the stretch you feel once you allow the first few inches to slip in.
And god, you feel so full already, he’s so big.
Taking in a deep breath, you decide to close your eyes and ignore the sting around your walls as you let more of him in, trying your best to not let his size intimidate you.
You just need to calm down and let your body adjust to the feeling, that’s all.
But fuck, you’re so nervous, and Heeseung is not blind.
He can sense how stressed you are from the instability of your breathing, and it shatters his heart to see you struggle so much, therefore he decides to help you out.
So he drags his empty hand to your clit, then begins to rub it slowly using two of his fingers, drawing slow yet precise circles on where you’re the most sensitive.
“Shhh, relax,” he whispers, resting his lips on yours, “take your time, no need to rush, okay?” 
You nod, hugging his neck, wanting him closer — needing him closer. In his words, you find the comfort which you seek, and the softness of his tone makes you melt in his arms. The only missing piece is his kisses, and you know that once you have them, you’ll be good to go, wiped clean out of all your worries. 
So “Kiss me,” you say, asking for them sweetly, knowing there’s no way he can say no to you, not when you’re sending chills down his spine with the way you wrap around him. 
I mean, he’s not even halfway in but still, he feels so good — too good buried within your wetness, head dizzy from your warmth and knees wobbly from your tightness. 
And it only gets better once he feels your tongue swipe along his lower lip, asking for permission to slide inside, which he then grants with a guttural hum of pleasure.
In the sigh of relief you both share as your tongues meet, lays many emotions — desire, frustration, fear, desperation and love, the most powerful one.
The kind of love that turns your pain into pleasure once he finally pushes his whole shaft through your folds, poking your cervix with his throbbing tip, begging for you to milk him dry. 
“God, Heeseung—” you moan at the delicious stretch as he begins to pump himself in and out with the gentlest thrusts, leaving you wanting more and more after each time he empties your cunt to fill it again.
“I know baby, fuck, I know—” he groans breathlessly in between kisses, and shit he can’t do this, he can’t hold himself back anymore. 
Thus, he removes his hand from your clit, and hooks it under your other leg, lifting you up from the floor seconds after doing so. 
And with only that, he manages to triple the amount of pleasure you feel — it’s crazy how a slight shift in angles can make such a huge difference, you’re going to lose your mind. 
“So deep—” you shriek, digging your nails on his shoulders as he sinks further and further within you, “f-fuck Hee, it f-feels great!” you scream, throwing your head back, giving him just enough space to fit his head into the crook of your neck. 
“Great, yeah?” he smirks, gliding his tongue under your jawline, slamming his cock inside you strong enough to make you sob.
Wait, are you really about to cry over his dick right now? 
Oh my god, what is wrong with you? 
A lot, apparently, though none of it matters as long as Heeseung stays right where he is — deep inside you.
“G-great, y-yeah,” you sniffle with your tears flowing down your cheeks, “more, give me m-more, please.” you beg, and what you ask, you shall receive.
You see from then on, Heeseung wastes no time before starting to straight up pound himself into you, filling the room with the lewd echoes of skin hitting on skin. 
And blending with your weak whines, it easily becomes his favorite sound on the face of earth, leaving him saying “Louder baby, shit,” as he fucks you mercilessly against the wall, “Scream my fucking name.” 
Needless to say, you do just what was asked of you, using the last drops of your energy on chanting Heeseung’s name, telling him that you’re close — so close and pleading for him to not stop.
But don’t you worry, he doesn’t plan to anyways, not until you cream his cock to its root.
He wants to be soaked with your wetness, he wants to drip your cum from the tip of his cock — he wants you to make a mess on him just like he did a couple hours ago, on his bed, while jerking off to your pictures.
He’s chasing the same feeling as then — the burning knot inside his stomach, he’s dying to experience it once more now that you’re actually there, in 3D, and not just behind a phone screen. 
Oh he wants you to witness that champagne confetti so bad, his champagne confetti. 
And the good news is that . . you don’t have to wait any longer.
Because approximately ten minutes later, Heeseung begins to lose the perfect rhythm of his pace and the more fucked up his thrusts get, the harder your pussy clenches, enough to make him curse your name under his breath, god he’s twitching so much inside you — he’s gonna cum. 
 “Shit, Y/n you’re so . . fuck . . you’re so tight, ‘m gonna —”
“Do it, please, cum inside me” you urge him, without any hesitation whatsoever, “want you to fill me up, every drop, want ‘em all inside me.” 
And waterfall, he’s fucking exploding. 
A few nice words from you is all it takes, and there he is, spilling his load right into the heart of your warmth. 
He’s literally shaking from how good he feels, struggling to stand still on his feet as he holds onto you even tighter for support, both arms strongly hugging your waist while he sandwiches you between the wall and himself, mumbling endless ‘thank you’s in your ear. 
Ugh, and he sounds so sweet like that, so vulnerable but so yours. 
He is mine, you think to yourself and you’re right, he is, which is why you wrap your legs tighter around his hips and finally just let go, sealing this moment with the best ending ever by allowing your arousal to wash over the both of you. 
“Happy birthday Heeseung,” you whisper, voice cracking from how intense your high was, “thank you for being the best thing in my life,” you shyly confess, digging your nails deep into his skin, using them to leave his back covered in many delicious scratch marks. 
But the very best part of your confession, you saved for the last. 
The three words that you have kept for yourself thus far, you’re now finally ready to share them. 
So, “I love you,” you say, as the clocks strike 00:00 right on time — perfect, “I love you, all of you, with all of me.”   
©hee-pster on tumblr, do not plagiarize.
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@heesuncore @ikeuizm @heeseungism @heedeungieluvbot @hoonspot @4imhry @seuomo @jaeyunology @jak-ey @brownsugarbaybee @gobighee @subhoonie @gyulune @enhastolemyheart @skzenhalove @heeseongism @reivrze @jaysmsworld @enhypens-hoe @foxdaisy @cha0thicpisces @mesopret @heeflrt @yoursjaeyun @gegeetime @ham-st4r @duolingofanaccount @excusememissiloveyou @heesterical @kimochiloveshee @parkhonnie @enhabordercarnival @ramenoil
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colleendoran · 1 year
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How Do I Do Stuff
The question was phrased a little strangely, and I don't want to embarrass the person by posting exactly what was said, but I'll answer it and hope this clears everything up.
I do almost all of my drawing by hand. No, I don't trace in Photoshop. Not a judgment on those who do, but I come from a generation of artists who did not use Poser programs or other digital tools. We learned to draw using a technique called the Sight Size method. I know a lot of people assume everyone - including the old masters - traced everything using optical tools, but while it is true some people did, it is just as true that most didn't, and you can draw with great accuracy if you learned how to draw the old fashioned way.
Sight Size breaks everything down into its barest components of geometric shapes and you build from there. Once you learn it, you never forget, and it applies to everything you will ever draw.
I learned it using a set of Famous Artist Course books my mom had since she was a kid, and they are still the gold standard. They're often on ebay. If I were you, I'd buy them.
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I actually find using figure reference really annoying because I like exaggerations and modifications from reality in my final work.
This page from Neil Gaiman's Chivalry was drawn and painted without figure reference of any kind.
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I don't know why people assume I trace all the time. If you were to try to use photographs to replicate these figures, you would find they are slightly off. There is no tracing here.
This is not to say I never use reference. This page, for example, was referenced from a photo of my mother. Isn't she pretty.
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But this page of Sir Galaad was drawn and painted without reference.
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He's pretty, too.
If he were real, I'm sure a lot of people would be very happy about it. But he's not. And had I reference, the art would have gone a lot faster. I had a time trying to nail this face that is very alive in my head but doesn't really exist.
Back in the ancient days, all cartoonists had to learn to draw and paint extemporaneously because reference was limited and digital tools didn't exist. While some high end artists had photography studios and professional models with costume and sets on hand, small fry like me were limited to what was in the house or available at my small local library, which was no bigger than a few rooms of my current house.
Artists kept extensive "morgue files" or "swipe files" which were collected from magazine clippings and photographs so we would have as much of what we might need on hand for quick reference. These ephemera collections could get unwieldy. I have thousands of photographs I've simply never sorted. I finally dumped most of my files this past year.
Have I ever traced anything? Of course, especially if I have to re-use a shot or setting over and over. Making extra work for myself is just silly. It's my job to make pictures, not to perform magical feats, like copying one shot after another over and over without making a mistake.
However, for almost 15 years of my career, I refused to copy or trace anything, and did not even own a lightbox. On the one hand, that forced me to learn to carefully examine what I saw. On the other hand, it was a stupid hill on which many deadlines died.
Only after I realized many professional artists had lightboxes and overhead projectors did I finally break down and get one.
The one thing I use my lightbox for more than anything is for tracing my thumbnail sketches to the final drawing paper. Instead of trying to capture the liveliness of the original sketch by copying what I see - only bigger - I blow the thumbnail up to the size I want the final art to be, then I trace over the thumbnail using a lightbox onto the final drawing paper.
Here's a look at thumbnails from the graphic novel Neil Gaiman's Snow, Glass, Apples.
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I enlarged these on my computer to fit onto 11"x14" paper, and traced the thumbs before finishing the art which was drawn in pen and ink and colored in Photoshop.
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While I obviously made some changes, the essence of the thumbs is there in the final work. Tracing my thumbs retains some of the looseness of the original sketches, which is often lost otherwise.
So, there is a valid purpose to tracing at times, though in my opinion, too much tracing can weaken drawing ability, substitute for developing skills, and make the work kind of stiff.
If you want to, I'm not your judge. But it's weird to me that people think I must be faking my skills in some way.
Ironically, the word cartoon comes from the Italian word cartone, which is a large heavy sheet of paper - also, the origin of the word carton.
Preparatory sketches were made on this paper which was then transferred to the final work surface via either tracing or by stamping little holes in the paper through which dust was sprinkled, recreating the contours of the drawing for the artist to follow.
So the origin of the word cartoon comes from a process often used...for tracing.
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theangelictarot · 2 months
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what makes you different from your future spouse's previous partners 🎥🫣📺🍿🛋️✨
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Welcome 2024, I took a long awaited break from readings while I could because life is speeding up for a lot of us!!! Things are happening and changing right before our eyes. Manifestations coming in. Cutting ties. ETC. We hit 500+ !!! I said I’d do something for hitting that mark and I meant it. I am going to give a FREE reading to one of my followers!
GIVEAWAY RULES:
You have to be engaging with the posts. All you have to do to enter is…. Comment which pile you’re from and let me know how it resonates ( : May the odds be forever in your favor. Enjoy the reading(s) 📖 I’ll be posting two PAC readings as a welcome back ;) YAY
DONATIONS Through CashApp: $DivineBaddiee
OR
TIPS ( :
Pile I:
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Right off the bat 🦇 I’m getting that you two could’ve went from enemies to lovers without even knowing it? Some type of rivalry against love being real and it being a facade to give people hope. However, you were willing to let loose and change your perspective even if it was for one night! Like the girl from “27 Dresses” in the image. You’re willing to try it THEIR way instead of being a plain jane. Seeing it through their eyes. Once you do you’ll see that it isn’t so bad! It’s just different and new. It is a huge change from your normal routine but you seem to handle challenges with ease. They may be a tornado of a person and you’re completely unphased and untouched by their outbursts. You “handle” them well. They enjoy this. You don’t make them choice, you allow them to have free will. Many times in the past others could’ve said “pick them or me” and it’s like between lifelong friendships and them… ONLY out of selfish reasons. That isn’t fair. You transform them into beauty. Beauty and the Beast. The fact that you enjoy being pursued, it makes them feel worthy. It’s what they were taught. They could be older than you. Following what they were taught. It’s rare to find someone like you in these different generational times. I’ll end with, your confidence! it’s a turn on, they aren’t used to having someone that’s confident with their looks. They’re usually always having to reassure their partner, not that they won’t still reassure you!!! If anything they’ll do it more freely due to you already being secure within yourself.
Pile II:
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The picture kinda speaks for itself if you’ve ever seen Clueless. Age-Gap. You could be older or younger than them. They’ve never dated outside of their range and i’m feeling like neither have you!!! It’s very interesting because both parties are content but it has come up a few times about how you two even crossed paths, given the differences. You’re younger, firm skin, silky smooth hair. It’s little details that they notice about you. They seriously OBSERVE you. Heavy. You look different than anyone they’re used to/tend to be around. Again, I don’t see that this person goes around actively looking for younger or older to date or pursue. It just happened for you two. You could be from pile I, thats for some of you. You could be in college or living at home. This is very different for them. They’ve never not lived with their partner in quite some time. It’s difficult to spend the day together THEN parting ways in the evening/night. They feel like they can overpower you (in a good way) being able to feel dominant with zero issues. Always a sense of balance throughout the connection. The chemistry is on FIRE 🔥 If you were to be in a room full of people, others would be able to feel/see the steaming coming from your guys bodies!! You’re very very passionate with them, especially in the bedroom. You teach them how to s l o w d o w n. Others may cause you two to go through OR will want you two to experience trails and tribulations within this connect because of how different it is. Many won’t approve but WHO. THE. FUCK. CARES?! If you’re happy, then be happy!!! How you handle yourself through all the turmoil!! Drives them w i l d.
Pile III:
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You aren’t as gullible! lol, they’re used to their partner going along with whatever they say or do/want them to do. Not you, you can sense bullshit from a mile away and it has them looking the same way he looks in the image. AHAHAH “How to lose a guy in 10 days” movie is significant. Your person!!! They discovered that they do like the idea of monogamous relationships. You could’ve been their first real relationship after a large period of time. You made them feel, feelings. They were instantly attracted to you, like magnets. They wanted to be glued to you. VERY out of the box for a player. You heal them, with others they were just getting it on ( ; to release but with you it’s not just sex or a one time thing like you both could’ve originally agreed on. They don’t have to hide themselves from you. You put up a good fight for whatever you want. Relationship and nonrelation related. Headstrong with compassion. Free spirited, you don’t need them for your happiness. You both choose each other. No trauma bonding. You’re a very attractive person! On top of that… they see the temptation that comes towards you. People may hit on you right in front of them! Which causes them to get jealous. TOTALLY out of their fortę. They’re the “insecure” one (usually their partners tend to be the insecure ones.) It’s hard for them to trust you due to these occurrences and their mind soaring. They feel as though you’re going to cheat on them and be unfaithful. Breaking their heart after opening up for the first time in like …. Ever. They didn’t want to tell you this because it took me hours to finish this simple reading but they’re scared to open up. You may not have even known this until now.
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eternally-racing · 2 months
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not private, not secret | oscar piastri
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wc: <1k (short n sweet 😌)
pairing: oscar piastri x reader
genre: fluff
pairing: oscar piastri x reader
summary: you and oscar have kept your relationship secret for this long, but oscar can't help but celebrate with you for his very first formula 1 win.
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You were well accustomed to being a shadow in the McLaren garage. It’s the way you and Oscar had decided you liked it best.
There was no pressure from the media, no mean comments on social media, and the less prying eyes into your relationship, the better. Only a select few people on the team knew that you were Oscar’s girlfriend, the rest easily bought up the lie that you were the daughter of a very rich investor in the team who wanted to be at every race. It usually wasn’t that hard to keep quiet, but today was a big day and you could feel your heart pounding out of your chest at every turn. For the first time in his Formula 1 career your boyfriend was leading the race, and with only a few more laps to go you were praying that today would be the day that his dream came true. As you looked to the pit wall you could see Andrea’s foot nervously twitching against the foot rest of his chair, he felt it too. This would easily be the biggest moment of Oscar’s career if it comes true, and there are only a few more laps to go. 
It’s a moment you never want to forget as the checkered flag comes out for Oscar’s car. You can’t stop the tears leaking out from your eyes as you hear the jubilation on his voice through the radio. This is a moment that both of you imagined for so long, but the reality of the situation surpassed all of your expectations. It’s a full celebration with the team as everyone is thoroughly overjoyed. You’re swept up with thinking about Oscar that you don’t even notice the other papaya car cross the line after Oscar. It’s a 1-2 finish, there’s not much more a team could ever wish for in a race. McLaren hasn’t felt joy like this in years. There’s a full sea of papaya out in front of the podium to greet the race winner, and you’re not sure where you fit into things - you blend in easily with the crowd while simultaneously being swept up in it. You’ve made a couple of friends in the garage and stick closely to them as the party already seems to be beginning on the paddock. 
You’ve never seen Oscar like this before - he takes a minute in the car before getting out (you can only assume he was wiping his tears of joy, even if he is too stubborn to admit it). You have your phone out taking a couple of pictures yourself - you know that there’s 1000s of cameras around that are also pointed at your boyfriend, but you want to remember what it feels like to see this moment through your eyes. 
After hugging his engineer and the rest of the team members, you can see Oscar’s gaze start to wander around the paddock, and it’s only once he changes directions do you figure out that he’s looking for you. There’s cameras flashing and the live TV feed clearly following over his shoulder, but your eyes are only locked on each other as Oscar reaches out for you. He stays in your arms for long enough that people can probably get the hint that you’re someone special.
“I really couldn’t have done this without you love, thank you” Oscar says with tears pooling in his eyes. This is his “I made it moment”, and he wants nothing more than to share it with you. There’s so many words that you want to say, but you find yourself speechless as you stare into Oscar’s eyes. Instead, you go with the action that you’ve dreamt of doing ever since you started dating. It’s your first helmet kiss of what will be many more to follow. Oscar warned you that it wouldn’t taste very good, especially given the dusty race conditions of the day, but it brings such joy to your heart to be able to celebrate with him.
When Oscar’s up on the podium he points to you as he lifts the trophy up to the cheers of the crowd, mouthing an “I love you” to you down below that you know will make the rounds on social media. But you don’t care one bit about that anymore. People could throw all the hate in the world your way, but there was nothing like the pride of celebrating your boyfriend’s first f1 win.
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author's note: was in a bit of a writing slump working on pt.2s for a lot of my other fics so i just wanted to write something short and sweet! hope u all enjoyed it :) My ask box is still open as always if you have any requests. Until next time! - Em <3
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