#i am an artist can god leave my arms alone | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dragon-kazansky · 21 days

Text

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Ten - Duel at dawn

♡♡♡

Meanwhile, at the art studio, Benedict was still lingering around. Most of the artists had vacated the room by this point, but Benedict Bridgerton was still present.

"You have great potential." Henry said, coming up beside him.

"It's nothing," Benedict says sharply.

"Though, for such a staunch critic of others, you certainly lack a clear eye for your own work."

Benedict sighs. "It's the lines. Not what they're supposed to be."

"Take the compliment, Bridgerton. There is no expectation or judgement here. You left all of that back in Mayfair. You can feel free to be yourself here... if that's what you should like."

Benedict smiles.

"It's what works for me, at least. And I haven't been dissatisfied with my lines in... well, quite some time."

Benedict chuckles again. "Well, I've done worse, I suppose, really."

"Mm. Fair enough."

"I seem to have enjoyed myself too much this evening." Benedict looks around at the empty room. "I should be on my way."

"As you wish," Henry says nonchalantly. "But know you are welcome back any time for practice or even conversation."

They both chuckle.

♡♡♡

By the time Benedict gets home, Anthony and Daphne are talking very seriously in the hall. He stops and looks at his two siblings.

"What is it?"

Anthony marches over and grabs him by the arm. "You and I need to talk. Daphne, bed."

Anthony drags his brother to his study.

"I will need you to stand as my second," he says after explaining everything to Benedict.

"What if you get yourself killed?" Benedict asks. He wasn't exactly thrilled about what had apparently transpired, but even less so about the thought of losing his brother.

"Then the title and estates will pass to you," Anthony tells him.

Benedict didn't want that.

"And if you kill Hastings?"

"I shall have to leave the country, and you'll be head of the family in every way that matters."

Again, he didn't want that.

Chuckling I the hall draws their attention to the door.

You laugh with Colin as Violet hangs off the both of you. She's clearly been drinking a lot tonight. She can't even walk straight. You've never seen her so uncomposed before.

The door opens behind you, and Anthony and Benedict are standing there.

"You're clearly sover," Colin laughs with his mother.

"And I'm sober enough to know when you're being impertinent." She chuckles. "Good night, dear."

You giggle. Violet waves at you lazily, and you chuckle again at her inability to remain composed.

You turn to see the two brothers still standing there and nudge Colin. He looks at you and then at them. They wave him over.

"Good god. Did someone die?" Colin asks.

You look at Anthony, who glances at you, his sowlnt thank you for helping bring his mother home. Then your gaze shifts to Benedict, who looks at you with a strange expression. You wonder where he's been all evening.

Colin turns to you. "Get home safe, okay?"

You nod, knowing your maid was waiting outside. You watch him walk toward his brothers and then leave.

♡♡♡

You arrive early to the Bridgerton house the next morning. You had snuck out alone. You had hoped to be there early enough before Anthony left to duel the duke.

Unfortunately they had already left.

You had, however, arrived in time to see Daphne and Colin leaving. When Colin saw you he sighed.

"You cannot be serious."

"I am."

Daphne says your name as she looks at you. "You do not have to witness this."

"I want to. As your friend. I will not allow this stupid, and mind I remind you illegal, activity to take place."

Colin sighs and helps you up into his horse. "Hold on."

He spurs the horse on, leading Daphne to the agreed spot. You hold on tight to him as he rides.

All Daphne can think about is Simon.

"Anthont won't... kill him, right?" You ask, watching Daphne ride.

"No. Sound him, surely."

"Good..."

"Are you worried?" He asks.

"Yes. Are you not?"

Colin doesn't answer.

By the time you arrive within diat ne of seeing them, the two are already stood feet apart with their pistols aimed. It's Daphne who rides faster to get between them.

"Stop!"

Anthony fires his pistol as soon as she shouts, the horse his sister's on rears back and Daphne falls to the ground.

"Daphne!" Simon shouts.

"Sister!"

Both men run toward her.

Colin pulls his horse to a stop, and you both climb off, rushing to them. Benedict drops the pistol case and does the same. He doesn't have time to ask why you're here.

"Are you hurt? Tell me!" Simon demands.

"I am perfectly well, no thanks to you idiots," she says, standing up.

"What are you playing at?" Anthony asks.

"Says the man who just shot at me!"

"You just rode into the middle of a duel!"

"I require a moment with the duke," Daphne says softly.

Anthony tries to stop her, but she stops him in return. Benedict pulls Anthony back and says, "make it brief."

Daphne and Simon walk off to talk.

"What are you doing here?" Benedict asks once they're out of ear shot.

"I came to help stop this ridiculous display."

"You could have been hurt," he says.

"No one got hurt, luckily."

Benedict looks a little lost for words. You sigh and look at him and then at Anthony. The eldest looks at you and nods once, softly. His eyes then flick back over to his sister.

"We must resume before someone should find us," Anthony says to the pair.

Simon nods at him.

Daphne watches him walk and then says, "there will be no need to resume."

Everyone turns to look at her.

"The duke and I are to be married."

You look at her and then turn to the duke. You're not sure what they discussed. He stares at her.

The three brothers look between the duke and their sister.

Whatever they discussed, Daphne made up her mind.

When Simon does not speak against her statement, it becomes clear to everyone that the matter is settled.

Now you all just need to get home before someone sees you all.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd

@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy - @acupnoodle

@ms-fandomgirl - @fablesrose - @anyaisinyourcloset - @meowzerzstuff - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @crazymar15

@cosmixstar - @bree3parchen -

#Bridgerton shade of blue #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #female reader #dragon writes

256 notes · View notes

lovrsm · 6 months

Text

ɢᴏʀɢᴇᴏᴜꜱ

sum: in which your brother invites you to a party, and oh god, you're so glad you accepted.

word count: 2.4k

pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader

warnings: drinking, curse words & insinuation of cheating.

Spotify - Apple Music

ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪ - ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪɪ - ᴍᴇᴅɪᴀ ᴀᴜ

"you should take it as a compliment that I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk"

Monaco was such a lovely place, when my brother had told me about it I thought he was exaggerating. I mean, it wouldn't be that weird if he had, he's always excited about everything, he's the kind of guy who makes you see as if the world is made of bright rainbow colors, and I believe him.

I arrived from the airport about 2 hours ago, I was on my way to the hotel where Lando was staying, he told me he got another room for me. How could I say no?

He called me yesterday at about 3pm

"No, I'm telling you, IT WILL BE THE PARTY OF THE YEAR!" he screamed over the phone, making me laugh.

"Lando, I just came from signing with my sponsors, they expect me to write more songs in a 4 months period, you know how complicated that's going to be?" I exhaled, taking off my heels, tossing them across the room as I lay down on the couch. I was exhausted.

"C'mon, you'll have plenty of things to write songs about, look, I can already hear it!" he started to hum a catchy tone, making the corners of my mouth go up. "Lando... Jake won't be able to be there, god, I don't even know if he'll want me to be there, you know?"

I could already see him in the doorway telling me where am I.

Sure, he was on canada filming, but what if he finds out?

"I'm not even letting you say no, I'm already booking tickets, get all you need, you can even shop here if you want, I just want my sister with me tomorrow night with me"

"You better go get me at the airport Lando Norris."

"I wont let you down peanut" He chuckled and hung up on me.

Well he kinda let me down, he couldn't come get me due to some last minute meeting he had. I don't really mind, I know having a busy life is exhausting.

I thanked the taxi driver giving his a generous tip, my bodyguard helped me get out my suitcases, I had a hoodie and black sunglasses, he had a casual outfit so we wouldn't stand out.

For being a top artist in the whole world, I did not like having that much security. But it was an obligation, not an option, I had to stick to what my manager and team asks me to do.

After a busy day of shopping and walking around the streets, I could barely feel my feet. I had gotten a beautiful short red dress. Perfect fit for the occasion. It was just 7p.m. and Lando had texted me he was on his way to my dorm.

The door opened to reveal my very festive brother in the other side "You're here!" "I'm here!" I screamed back jumping into his arms.

We catched up, he was telling me about how he checked the track, for the next season, since we were in December. Although I never really understood racing, when we were kids our parents would take us out to the karts, and I'd always crash while he was beating all of us who tried to play.

He focused on sports and I focused on music, since I was 12 years old I learned to play the guitar. My mom used to tell me that I was a genius at writing songs, I guess many people think the same.

Time passed by too fast, with him I felt like an hour were just 5 minutes.

After hating each other all our childhood, we became closer than ever after my career and his took off. I think it was because we were twins, we hated it when people said we acted the same, because physically we are not alike at all. I am so much prettier, obviously.

it was already 8 o'clock "I'm leaving, I should get ready, do you wanna come with me?"

"I'd stopped talking to you if you let me get there alone, I know none of these guys Lando."

"I'm sure you'll know somebody miss famous." He bumped my shoulder and left my room, entering to his which was next door.

I took my time getting ready. God, I love being a woman. I took a bath, fixed my hair, put on my make-up and finally there was the dress, hanging on the bathroom door. I think it is one of the most beautiful dresses I have ever seen in my life.

How did I manage to put on the mini dress correctly by myself? I don't even know, but I couldn't stop looking at myself in the mirror. God if only someone could look at me.

Oh wait! There is someone, I grabbed my phone to click his name, my phone started to ring. I waited patiently, but he did not answer. So I called him once more, this time he did answer.

I heard loud music and singing in the back. "What do you need?" he asked, I could hear the irritation in his voice. "I wanted to hear from you, we haven't talked-"

"We talked last Monday, wasn't that enough? I'm busy." He interrupted me.

"Where are you?" I asked intrigued this time.

"Uhm... I'm in the bar with some friends"

"Oh and that's just more important than your girlfriend?" I raised my voice at him, I was now sitting the edge on the bed.

"Look, I don't want to fight, just call me later." He said, basically hanging the phone. "Jake..." I said before he could do so.

"What?" He sounded desperate. "Take care." I said.

"Ok" He hung. I felt disgusted, why? not idea, I just felt dirty, as if I was forcing him to talk to me. I took some deep breathes so I could calm my nerves down.

I don't even want to go out anymore.

I tried hard not to cry, I wasn't going to ruin my makeup over some small argument, I'm sure tomorrow we'll be alright, we always end up alright.

It felt as an eternity till I heard a knock on my door, I quickly grabbed my bag, looked in the mirror once more to fix my dark wavy hair, and rushed to the door. I opened it, in the side was Lando, his back on the wall while he was looking at his phone.

He turned it off and looked at me, I smiled "Ready to go Peanut?"

"Lets go"

We finally got to the club, electronic music was blasting off, people were already drunk, and boy they didn't even tried to hide it.

We had to basically run to the VIP area, I didn't said anything to my bodyguard about this, besides, he can use a break.

Lando was immediately greeted by everyone who was in the room. "LANDO!" A man screamed to him "Ayee, we're here!" He said hugging the man, and patting him in the back. "you're so late, you were the only ones missing!"

"we're here Pierre, I'd like to present to you all my sister!" He hugged me by the side and I waved with a smile on my face. It seemed that most of them recognized me, because some of them just stood there in shock "Hey everyone, ready to get wasted?" I laughed, that made them less tense and cheered, lifting their cups.

Lando gave a me a sweet kiss in my head, "see, you'll be fine, have some fun peanut!" I let go and we both went our own way.

I started to talk to a girl, her name is Kika, I learnt she was the girlfriend of a guy named Pierre Gasly. I've heard about him but no one ever told me how fun his girlfriend was!

"Girl, you should try this margarita, the most wholesome thing you'll have in your life!"

She was not kidding with that. In a few minutes, I had asked for... about 5 of them, or maybe just 13.

I had talked to everyone in the room by 10 pm, they were all so fun, and the energy was of another planet.

"Yeah, and then Max would make that grumpy face. I swear he looks like and old man!"

"very mature Lando, so mature." I bursted out laughing. "LECLERC HAS ARRIVED!" I heard someone scream in the entrance, and in seconds half of the group was there greeting the guy.

I decided I was going to take something else than a margarita. I walked up to the bartender, who definitely did not understood me. I don't know if I was speaking too softly or if I was just way too drunk to talk, but I decided to leave, I turned around and bumped into someone.

I was about to loose my balance till his arms were wrapped around my waist, I was able to stand straight. "are you alright?" he asked.

I looked into his eyes, green eyes "what?"was all I could manage. "Are you alright?" He asked again, I now noticed a thick accent, I bursted out laughing for that.

He looked so confused, he let go and chuckled with me. For a second it was as if the whole club was quiet. I looked again at him, and I immediately looked down at the floor. He grabbed my hand, the lights went out for a second and my world spun. My legs were about to give up.

His touch was... it was, god I can't even say it.

"I'm Charles, what's your name?"

I bit my lip, what went out of my mouth was definitely not what I wanted to say. "Do you always talk like that?" I asked a bit to seriously, I chuckled so that I wasn't that rude.

"Yeah, my first language isn't english."

"Huh." I said, I felt as if he had a goddamn magnetic field and it was pulling me towards him, I couldn't stand it.

I ran off to the other side of the room, leaving him standing alone next to the bar.

All night.

All night I couldn't stop thinking about him, his hand touching my hand in the darkened room...

and I made fun of the way he talked.

I'm never drinking again.

Yet there I was, in the bar once more, asking for whiskey. Mature, so mature.

I kept bouncing back and forth between the people there, once I saw Charles walking to my way, I would ran to the other side of the room.

I have a boyfriend for gods sake! I can't be thinking these unhealthy things about him.

But, I mean, can you blame me?

Look at him.

His first two buttons were unbottened which made him look so attractive. And you should see his dimples, he's so gorgeous it actually fucking hurts!

"So you're not going to talk to me?" I heard a voice behind my ear. His chest touching my back. I didn't move, but I did answer.

"Who said I wasn't going to?" I asked playfully, with a grin on my face, knowing he couldn’t see me.

He hummed in my ear, before he turned me to look him in the eye, he grabbed my neck, but he didn't kiss me. Instead, he brought his lips back to my ear.

"Then why do you keep running, huh?" His hot breath sent a shiver down my spine. I was dumbfolded by his actions, he took a step back to look at me.

I looked into his eyes, I was absolutely taking him in. I looked at his dimples because of the grin he had in his face. His eyebrows, his slightly sweaty hair, with pieces of it falling into his face.

I couldn't help myself, I noticed how he looked into my eyes, and then to my mouth.

What if..?

I asked to myself, I closed my eyes and got closer to him, waiting for a kiss. But he grabbed me by my hips pulling me back.

"You're far too drunk, ma chou" I heard and opened my eyes, he gave me a sympathetic smile. I felt dumb for a second, but after seeing his face... I think I might be falling.

"Why don't we leave, would you like that?" I hugged him, my head in his neck. I nodded as fast as I could. He grabbed me and in a second, we were in his car.

For sure the alcohol got to my head that night.

Taglist

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #scuderia ferrari #lando #gorgeous

350 notes · View notes

spicyclover · 23 days

Text

No one can hurt you

Summary : A dinner of revelation and tragedy.

Hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know in the comment section.

Thank you! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

DISCLAIMER : Rewrite and final version of "All the things you said" | Netflix show: One Day at the Time | Elena’s Story part | Season 3, ep 2. WARNING: mention of physical and verbal aggression! Su*c*de WARNING !R@PE! WARNING: mention of SU*C*DE WARNING TOUGH CONTENT, BE AWARE

DISCLAIMER: This story is fiction and has no correlation with reality. All site names making acts, violence or any other type of aggression are used for artistic purposes, and they did not commit those acts

If you need help. Please get help. You are loved, and your life is valued. Even if you don’t see it, you are loved.

The Monaco Grand Prix is in a few days and you will be slowly preparing for tonight’s dinner. Charles decided to organize a small evening for the pilots and their respective companions. It is in a magnificent hotel overlooking the sea that Charles booked the room and privatized the chef of the restaurant. The luxurious life of Monaco in its greatest fullness, you are always amazed by all the secrets that this small principality shelters.

You were third-wheeling your best friend Heidi to that party. She and Daniel invited you after running into you in the afternoon at the marina. Since you were little you know most of the pilots. So you are happy to have been invited to celebrate this new year of racing in Monaco with them. The evening was going well until the subject of the conversation crumbled into something darker.

“I gotta admit, I’m getting kind of confused.” Ends up saying, Checo rubbing his nose with his glass.

“Oh, my god, me too. What if someone says, “I am not sleeping with you tonight?” And then... an hour later, they’re like, “Eh, fine.” What’s that?” Ask Lando, completely confused.

“Unsurprising,” Pierre whispers under his breath, laughing. You laugh at with him, ignoring Lando's thunder.

“How many women have said, “Eh, fine”?” Questions Heidi sarcastically.

“Yeah, I got to make some calls.”

“Now I’m perplexed.” Says Max trying to make sense of everything he heard.

“I know. It’s confusing. I hate to admit it, but I feel sorry for men. This consent thing is tricky.” Kelly responded and gets up to pour herself more wine.

“No.” You exclaim annoyed by her comment. “Women always blame themselves, and then the man never has to take responsibility. During rape prevention week at the university, all the signs are aimed at women. “Girls, don’t dress provocatively. Girls, don’t walk alone.” How about, “Hey, guys, don’t rape.”" You look up at Pierre knowing perfectly it will trigger him.

“Oh, my god, why are we talking about that? I took a couple pictures as a joke, and Cece thought it was funny.” Pierre exclaims as he gets up from his chair to get himself another beer at the bar.

“Did she? Or did she feel like she had to laugh ‘cause she doesn’t know what else to do with your hand on her boob?” Everyone around the table falls silent and waits. You get up from your chair and walk you way to Pierre.

“Ok, sweetie, take it easy.” Adds Sebastian taking your arm and tries to calm the conversation.

“No. He thinks what he did is cute. You are basically a predator.” You accuse, pointing your finger at him.

“You’re basically a psycho.” Pierre replies, knowing full well it will trigger you.

“Good, call me crazy for defending a woman’s right not to be groped!”

“You’re mad ‘cause the internet told you to be. You don’t know my life or even leave this apartment!” Pierre screams as he approaches you.

“Because of guys like you!” You answer with the same intonation.

“What are you talking about?” Charles asks, taking your hand for you to sit down.

You and Charles are special. You’ve been like ass and shirt since childhood. You’ve known him since you were six. For as long as you can remember, Charles has always been one of your dearest childhood friends. You have shared so much together. No one has ever made you vibrate like he does. Usually his simple touch makes you calmer and reassuring. But you are no longer able to appreciate this contact that you cherish so much.

“You want to know?” You said, scoffing. “Okay. A couple of weeks ago, Heidi and I were coming home from the movies, and we were holding hands. And we noticed these guys staring at us, and then we changed the sidewalks , and they followed us.” You speak with tears in your eyes.

“What?” Sebastian says concerned in his voice. His turn your body to him.

“Yes. And they were going, “Come one, you guys, kiss. We really wanna see it. Just kiss.” They thought that was really funny, too.” You continue telling while drinking a sip of your glass.

“It was actually terrifying.” Ends up adding Heidi after Daniel stares at her intently.

“It was terrifying. And then we finally lost them in a crowd and ran home...” You finish in a huff trying to hold back your tears. Your hand hides your eyes and you try at best to find your calm.

Charles, in his divine goodness, hastens to extinguish you warmly. At first, his touch hurts you and you have only one desire to remove his hands from your dirty body. Yet you cling to him like a lifeline. Deep down, you know it's time. Time to tell what happened that night, a year ago. Nobody dares to speak at your revelation and everyone feels guilty for not knowing sooner.

“Umm... Last year after the Monaco Grand Prix. Lance Stroll raped me. He was my friend, and he raped me in my own bedroom. And then, he threatened me not to tell anyone... but. Why did he do this?” You ask breaking down in tears. “Sorry, I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what... I feel.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Sebastian asks tenderly, approaching you rubbing his hand on your back.

“I tried, but... nobody listened to me.” You respond looking at Lando through your tears. Your eyes pierce Lando’s being. He doesn’t know where to put himself and his cheeks become red. He implores you to keep your mouth shut, but the situation no longer belongs to you. You feel the body of Charles being redeemed against yours and you notice that he followed your gaze.

“You knew.” He accuses Lando turning his attention abruptly towards him.

“I... I.” He tries to defend himself. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“Oh, you think she knew what to do either.” He yells, getting up from his chair and grabbing him by the collar.

“Charles, let him go!” Orders Carlos.

“You let her suffer silently when you knew what he did to her. I thought you were better than this. T’es qu’une grosse merde.” You’re a piece of shit

“Oh please, like you would have done something? We all know he’s untouchable and has done it before.” Admitted Lando, pushing Charles away.

“What?” Sebastian speaks up. This is the first time he has heard this from his former teammate. He never thought he would ever see Lance in this light.

“Nothing.”

“It’s nothing? He raped her, and now other girls too?” Charles advances again, preventing him from fleeing the situation.

“Don't play fouls, Charles. You were in his hotel room at the party in Abu Dhabi last year, and I quite remember your hands on some teenage girls, groping them.” He said suddenly, pushing Charles out of his way again.

“What?” You speak up, troubled by Lando's affirmation.

“It’s not what it looks like.” Charles turns to you, trying to explain himself. You get up from your chair and walk back as you see him approach.

“Don’t touch me.” You say, pushing him away. “Did you do it?”

“I... It’s not the same thing.” He justified himself.

“Yes. It actually is. Did you grope those teenage girls or worse raped them?” You ask scandalized. Charles, your best friend, your confidant, the one you most trust is capable of the same thing as the person who hurt you the most.

“Oui,” he admits in a small voice. “I didn’t want to.”

“You didn’t want to? What the fuck, Charles. What's wrong with you all?” You yell, taking your stuff and leaving as fast as possible.

The thought of all this happening to so many more makes you sick. How could nobody speak up about this? You walk down the hotel hallway. You can hear footsteps and Charles's voice telling you to come back. When you get to the lobby, you ask for a taxi home. Tears fall down your cheeks, and you look at him as you push the door out.

You take your taxi and give him your address. All you want right now is a shower. A warm and reassuring shower. To pull away all those memories and thoughts. You want to scream to the world. You want to smash your entire apartment down. You want to stay in bed for the rest of your life. You want to jump off the roof. You want to cut yourself so that the pain stops. You want to be set free.

You arrive at the complex. Your dark thought runs in circles in your head. Like a robot, you open the door, press the elevator, and finally unlock your apartment. You let your essentials fall on the ground with your bag and coat. Like a machine, you take your shoes off and open the lights.

The sight of your home, which does not feel like home anymore. Since Lance pushes himself into you while you try to make him go away, this place hasn’t felt like home. You can’t even sleep in your own bed anymore. No matter how many times you clean the sheets, change the bed. This memory comes running back into your mind. Invade you like a parasite.

You go to the bathroom and open the valve to fill the bathtub. You watch the water. You can hear your phone blowing up with notifications and calls. “Why does this world have to be this cruel?” You think, taking your clothes off.

Your body envelops itself in the heat of the water, and you close your eyes. Your body slips in the bath. You head underwater. You hear focusing on your heart bit. You enjoy this moment of quietness and solitude.

That’s it. You feel alone since that night he took your joy, your life, yourself.

You can feel the water pressure you to gasp for air. Your head starts popping your blood. Your heart rises to find oxygen. You struggle. You have been struggling this long. You want to go, and you want to let go.

You let the water go in, and suddenly, all the scary parts disappear. The explosion in your head fades away, and you’re not scared anymore. You find it relatively peaceful. Very peaceful.

Strangely, you’re dreaming. Him with you. On a boat. Feeling the breeze in your hair. The warm sun on your skin. His light touches on your thigh. His breath on your neck. His lips are on your breast. You’re daydreaming. Are you? Is your mind trying to ease the pain in your heart? Is it even the day?

Then. You open your eyes. You try to scream, but your head is under the water. You feel weak but strong. Sick but healthy. Chaos but at peace. You can feel your body wiggling, but your mind is different. No one can hurt you now. Quietly, your eyelids become heavy again, and what a moment ago hurt you the most now makes you feel good.

The water fills your lungs, and you sink more and more into the darkness. Nobody seems to pull you up. The seconds pass, but you no longer find the courage to go out. The bathtub disappears, and you find yourself in the sea. In a warm and welcoming sea; The Mediterranean. An infinity of blue. An infinity of sweetness. The noises are only deaf sounds, and you feel your brain more and more calm. The sun’s rays pass through the water, and you move further and further away from it. Your eyelids become more and more stretched.

Then you see beautiful blue eyes through the water. No fair. You can’t reach them but can’t stop staring at those ocean-blue eyes. Suddenly, you feel scared. Scared to leave those ocean eyes. You’re afraid, and you’re drowning under the waves of words you haven’t said to them, to you.

You try to fight back this peaceful state, but darkness is an easier path than light. Suddenly the silence suffocates you, and you miss the sound surrounding you.

Then comes the darkness.

When you leave the apartment, Sebastian watches Charles running after you. He can’t believe what has happened. He doesn’t want to consider it. How could he? He sees and goes to the door, and Charles is defeated on the ground. He passes by without a look and walk his way to the lobby.

You have always been a fragile child. Even when you were a child. You were always this little fragile and precious porcelain doll. You’ve never been afraid of anything growing up. Sebastian always loved to see you grow up with him. Despite your age difference, he always considered you his little sister. The little one who needs to be protected from everything and at any cost. Knowing that you are suffering so much hurts him.

In the hallway, the walk seems long and endless, his thoughts wandering toward your shared memories. He remembers many summers spent in the countryside. At your grandparents' meadow, there was a vast field with a few horses grazing on the fresh grass. He remembers that beautiful-eyed little girl running in his direction.

You had dirt all over your clothes. Your hair was braided, and he still remembers the grass sticking in it. He remembers your laughter, which lit up the prairie thousands of miles away. Hearing you laugh has always been his favourite thing about you. Lost, it’s only when the doors block his way out that he remembers he has to go looking for you. He runs through the night towards your apartment.

Charles is devastated. Everything he tried to build with you has just broken in a moment. He feels lonely and ashamed. He wants you to know how much he loves you. How much you mean to him. How much you have become the center of his universe.

Before you, there was racing, and that was it. When you became something more his life change. It was as if you had lit the dormant fire in him. You have extinguished the flame since the death of his best companion, his father. You have given meaning to this quest. The stakes are not won but won for you.

He still remembers the first time he took you to his garage. You were with Sebastian. He was showing you around the Ferrari factory, showing you the different facilities, different parts. You were so captivated by his words, and your eyes were shining like stars in the sky.

He remembers the moment when your eyes landed on him. The smile you had, and the dress you wore and the clip in your hair. He counts you. Unable to say anything. Captivated by your beauty.

“Hi, Charlie.” You said in your beautiful voice.

He stuttered and blushed heavily. You laughed gently before putting your lips on each of his cheeks. He likes a kiss, and no, he likes your kisses.

A hand falls on his shoulder, and he sees Pierre. Tears in his eyes prevent him from distinguishing himself perfectly, but he recognizes his friend.

“Don’t worry. She’ll come back.” He says softly. Taking him by the shoulders to lift him up and bring him back to the room.

The others are still there. Confused and shaken, no one speaks. Silence reigns in the room, and no one knows what to say. Charles opens the patio door and leaves the fresh night air in the room. The city slowly began to calm down, and he heard the waves regularly hitting the harbour.

Daniel gets up and gets rid of the table. Putting this party away may make us forget the events that occurred. Heidi and Kelly help him while the others put orders in the room. No one dares to go to see Charles.

The hour passes quickly, and some decide to leave. They quickly greet the last remaining. Pierre observes his friend, who has not moved, and still looks at the sea.

It’s only when Charles' phone starts ringing that he looks away. He calmly enters the room and answers.

“Hello?”

You always liked the fields. You always loved hiding in the big wheat fields surrounding your grandparents' house when you were little. This stretch of yellow was as far as the eye could see. You liked feeling the stems between your fingers, the seeds melting to your touch, and the particular smell of wheat.

You remember a hot summer day. Lying on a tablecloth after a picnic, nature calms by this overwhelming heat, especially the calm of this yellow and green nature. You remember the farmer who held the farm. You spent days watching him working. Helping him through the mould. Watching him turn wheat powder into cereal. You remember this great man, always with a grain of wheat in his mouth that was constantly chewing.

You remember the hum that bees made at work. From wheat to wheat, pollen is harvested. You remember the nests in the hives that you created one summer. Your grandfather, with his jumpsuit, would go every morning and inspect the nests, and you loved watching him do it. You also loved to taste honey with each harvest. Honey is good. It’s sweet. It’s sweet. It’s wild.

You remember Sebastian. His blond hair, his smile, the sound of his kart engine. Many hours passed in his company at the track with his dad. You remember your big brother, following him and Sebastian all day long, like the annoying little sister you were. You remember falling from a tree after the boys thought it was a great idea to climb it. You see your brother jumping down the tree to get to you and hear Sebastian running back to the house to get help. You spent the night at the hospital. You broke your arms that summer, and you had a commotion. Your parents were furious and punished your brother for the rest of the vacation.

You remember your first winter in the mountains. Mornings skiing, and afternoons making snowmen, eating maple syrup, drinking hot chocolate, just playing in the snow. See your happy brother’s face after he managed to get the last pancake.

You remember Sebastian’s victories. To see him move up from category to category. You remember his encounter with Hanna. You love Hanna. She is so sweet and kind. You remember your great jealousy towards her from the height of your twelve years. She who steals your Sebastian. She who steals your second brother. Oh yes, you were jealous, but she knew how to win your heart, and after all, she stayed.

You remember the Ferrari years. Everyone was in red. You saw the world with red glasses. Red like love. Red like anger. Red as the colour. Red as blood. It’s kind of at this time, when adolescence really starts that you start to change. Physically, mentally, and spiritually, you were no longer the wise little girl your parents admired and your brother despised. No, you grew up making mistakes, a lot of mistakes, until you met him.

Him. The golden boy. The one destined to be great.

You remember his perfume, his smell, his laughter, his mimics, his way of speaking, his way of being and his way of simply being. He intimidated you so much; this guy was destined for something big. Whereas you, we never expected much from you besides being pretty, lovely, not disturbing, quiet, and reserved.

Quiet.

Reserved.

Pretty.

In those words, your brain falls into the dark side of your life. The darkened side of time. Painful and unhappy memories. The memories of him, the one who once was your best friend. He who once was your confidant. He who once saw fit to r*pe you.

To find you after the Grand Prix, in your apartment, in your house, in your home. To be a little too drunk, surely. To hold you firmly. To put his lips on yours. To hold your wrists. To put all his weight on your body. To force you into bed. To beg him to stop. To cry in silence. To feel it in you. To feel dirty. To feel unloved.

To feel alone, so lonely, too lonely.

To find yourself curled up in a ball in a corner. To wait until morning for him to leave. To want to end your life. To end your nights. To seek help. To be abandoned. To be alone. To be dirty. To be silent. To be reserved. To be pretty.

To be pretty.

To be.

Silent is all you ask for.

It’s been a long night. The hours have been staggering. The noises of monitors, nurses, doctors, and ambulances invade their ears. No one speaks, and no one dares speak. It is as if a white veil covers the weighing atmosphere and borrows all those present.

The wait is long, too long. They wait patiently for the outcome of this atrocious night, something that does not happen. Sebastian holds his head in his hands, tears have finished flowing, but his eyes are still red. He feels bad. He feels immense guilt. This mixture of shame, sadness, contempt and anger is eating him increasingly as the hours pass and pass before his eyes. He blames himself for not coming sooner. He blames himself for not holding you back. He blames himself for not seeing. He blames himself.

Full of life and ardour, this little girl was smothered under this icy water. Frozen in time. Only the repetitive sound of drops escaping from the pipe disrupted this freezing scene. She hides all her problems behind her smile. Never in his life has he thought of having this vision of you. This pure horror vision of an act yet so courageous. Because it takes courage to think about yourself before thinking about others. It takes courage to put yourself forward and not others. It takes courage to achieve what others have likely failed to achieve.

The roar of the machines stifled Charles. He closed his ears in the hope of silencing them. To see you with your tubes hanging around you, in you. On this hospital bed, this white bed, this room that feels the end. Eyes wet, Charles looks at your pale, serene face. The doctor’s words are dry and not encouraging. Your parents arrive a few hours later, a flight later. They cry. Your brother has tears in his eyes. Sebastian collapses in a corner. Hanna is there; a veil of sadness covers his eyes. Heidi cries in the arms of Daniel, who looks again in the eyes of Charles. Charles holds your hand, your hand. Your hands are cold, frozen by the consequences. Lando doesn’t dare to come in. He feels guilty because he refused to believe you, to reach out to you, see you, and see your distress. He preferred to become blind rather than awake. It haunts him.

Charles, sitting next to you, is watching people walk by. To say goodbye to you, goodbye, forever. He doesn’t want to. He can’t. You’re still breathing. Your heart is still beating. So why do you have to leave? Why did you choose to go?

“Why?” He mumbles one more time, his head against your ear. “Why are you not fighting?”

“Cha... we have to go.”

“No... I-I-I can’t. I can’t leave her.” His voice breaks in a sob.

“Charles,” Pierre says, putting a comforting arm on his shoulder. “Let her go.”

“No...” Charles pushes him away, gripping your hand tighter. “She’s going to survive. She’s going to live. She has to live. You have to live.” He prays, kissing your cold skin.

Pierre sight and get out of the room. His family, her family, his friends, and her friends are here waiting for him. The visiting hours are almost over. Everyone wants to go back to their house and sleep a bit. They haven’t slept all night. Charles hasn’t slept all night. Pascale enters the room quietly. Staring at his son.

“Charles. We need to let her rest. Will come back in the morning, d’accord mon bébé?” She says, taking him in her arm.

He acquires at her request despite himself. Unable to fight anymore, fatigue slowly eats him away, and he knows that he is of no help if he is exhausted. He leaves the room not without a last kiss, a last look, a last goodbye.

On the following day, Charles came. Staying for hours next to you. Stroking your hair, mumbling your name, praying for you to wake up. He can't take you out of his brain. He can't take you out of him. You're haunting him. We realize how important it is in our life when we lose someone we take for granted. Charles looks at you as a friend until he realizes he loves you. Is it too late? Were you supposed to be?

Sebastian came a few times, only a few minutes. He can't unseen what he saw. He plays and plays the night in his head over and over again. Wondering what he could have done differently.

The doctors are not really optimistic about your recovery. Your body is tired. Your mind is exhausted. They did all they could do. All we have to do is wait. Wait for you to come back. Wait for you to fight for your life. How could you fight if you're not even awake? It's painful.

Strangely enough, he came. The rapist. The abomination of your life. You came late at night when everyone left. He felt bad. "It's too late to feel bad," you think when you feel his hand and you. You wanted to cry, to scream, but nothing. He left shortly after. Looking at you one last time. Looking at what he did to you. You hear from Lando a few days later that he got arrested. Other girls spoke, and there were enough accusations to start a trial. Even more strange, it did nothing to you. Well, how could you feel? When he toked everything you got and smashed it in a million pieces?

Sometimes, you can feel the warmth of the afterlife tingling your skin. You feel it right near you, calling you. Calling you to answer the call. You want to feel this feeling of peace, this quietness. You don't know how to feel. You just want to float. You forgot how to be happy. How to be. Why fight if you may never find yourself again? What were you made for? You wonder to yourself.

Time flies. A couple of weeks passed. You made some improvements for the doctors to feel optimistic for you to wake up eventually. You're stabilized by all those machines. Your parent finally arrived a few days after you were admitted. You can feel your mother's tears on your cold hands and the soft kisses of your father on your forehead. You can smell the sunflower Heidi brought you every time she comes to see you. Sometimes you want to react. To show her you listen. But you can't. Or you don't want?

The feeling of loneliness passed. You can see now how much you're loved. How they love you. You love to hear Arthur talking about your favourite series. You love to hear Sebastian remembering childhood moments whenever he found the courage to come. You love to listen to your mom singing your favourite songs. You love to hear Daniel telling dad jokes, hoping you'll smile in your sleep. You love hearing Lando talking about his latest Quadrant adventures or Twitch lives. You love to listen to Charles saying how much he loves you. How much his life is plain without you. You can't imagine somebody else cared so much about you.

That makes you cry. You can't show them you can hear. You can't show them you love them too. You can't show them how grateful you are or will be. More time passed, and the more you could slowly feel you were losing yourself. All you need to do is happen your eyes, but for some reason, it seems an impossible task to do.

"This is impossible," Alices says in disbelief at the creature rising upon her.

"Only if you believe it is." The hatter whispers, scared of the outcome of all this adventure. But wasn't this all the point of this madness?

"Sometimes, I believe as many as six impossible things before breakfast."

"That is an excellent practice." The hatters says. "However, just now, you might want to focus on the Jabberwocky."

"Six impossible things. Count them, Alice. One, there's a potion that can make you shrink. Two, and a cake that can make you grow. Three, animals can talk. Four, Alice, cats can disappear. Five, there's a place called Wonderland. Six, I can slay the Jabberwocky."

You feel yourself falling into the rabbit hole, and you have been in Wonderland all this time. That's it! You can do it. Six impossible things before breakfast.

"One, you will get a major in architecture."

"Two, you can drive an F1 car."

"Three, you can be happy again."

"Four, Y/n, there's a place for you in this universe."

"Six, I will fight for my life."

At this, though, he feels darkness rising upon you. Everything fades away slowly. You can hear the constant beep of the machines around you. You can feel Charles's hands against yours. You can smell the hospital room you're in. You can see the light shutters again you close your eyes.

Then... you breathe.

Feeling the grass on your feet. The autumn breeze cools down your spine. For the first time, you appreciate being alive. To fill your lungs with air, to hear the water crash against the rocks, to feel the sun warm up your skin, and to taste food again.

You feel a hand around your waist, and Charles brings you closer to him. He sticks you to his bare chest. He holds you firmly for fear that you will disappear again. It makes you smile to see him so loving, so gentle, and so attentive. You turn your gaze from the blue horizon to meet his emerald eyes. He smiles tenderly. His eyes sparkle with a thousand lights when you return his smile. You hold these eyes a few moments before you look wandering towards his lips.

If only it could be true.

If only you could be with him.

______________________________________________________________

Hi! Hope you enjoy this final version of the story. It took me sometimes to get back to writing but I'm getting there. I know some of you really like it and it's fill my heart with joy <3

Tag List : tyna-19 dessxoxsworld ynbutbetter alexander-hamilhoe honethatty12 janeholt3 mloyer karmabyfernando omgsuperstarg laura-naruto-fan1998

#Charles Leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 #charles #charles leclerc sad #charles leclerc x you

44 notes · View notes

thefactsofthematter · 1 year

Note

u asked and i will deliver. if u want to write this feel free to change literally anything but

model davey! he graduated college with honors, has a degree in poli sci, and was literally about to go to law school before being signed to a modeling agency- thus starting a turbulent relationship with his family. he starts doing runways and soon moves into print works and even in his short time of modeling he’s become a frequent in some of the most well-known fashion magazines. this is great, this is amazing- but it has an impact on his mental health that he wasn’t ready for.

enter jack kelly, the makeup artist that somehow always seems to work with davey; jack is known for his bold editorial looks and impeccable work, yet he has quite the image in the industry. he’s stubborn, he’s unorthodox, he’s got quite the temper, but his work speaks for itself. jack is the guy who never wears makeup to shoots, he never dresses up unless it’s something important, he’s got piercings and tattoos and a list of bad habits following him wherever he goes.

anyway blah blah they fall in love they indulge in bad habits and reckless things they get better and boom they’re everyone’s favorite powerhouse couple!!!

ohohohoho JAC!!! i’m obsessed!!! god a model au just tickles my brain the perfect way and this is everything @we-are-inevitable

here’s a fun (or possibly fucked up? idk those are synonyms to me sometimes) little one shot! tw for some mentions of disordered eating - as one might expect from a model au

David Jacobs is a nice person.

For all twenty-three years of his life so far, he’s told himself that. It’s been mostly true— he’s never had much of a temper, he treats people with empathy and kindness, and he’s never been demanding or high-strung. He’s normally a pretty chill person who’s easy to please, and who genuinely likes to help people and make them happy.

Nothing about the past year has been normal, though, and he’s starting to realize it might be messing with him a little. Just a few weeks ago, parents were bitching about how much he’s changed, and he thought it was bullshit… until he suddenly catches himself storming away from his personal assistant (which he has now, by the way,) after shouting:

“Just stop talking and figure it out yourself! Can you fuck off and leave me alone for two fucking seconds? Oh my god.”

And then he’s off, out the back door of the set, to sit on the fire escape and try to cool down. He knows he’s being an asshole, but he’s at the end of his rope— he hasn’t eaten an actual meal in three days, there’s makeup caked all over his face and too much product in his hair, he’s sick of people touching him and telling him what to do, and fucking Romeo won’t stop reminding him how busy he is by asking stupid questions about his jam-packed schedule for the next few days. He has a runway show tonight that’ll go to at least midnight, and a 5 AM call time for a shoot tomorrow, and then an afternoon flight to Paris— he doesn’t care which of the two hotels Romeo booked he actually stays at, because they’re both five stars anyways, so it shouldn’t be this much of a hassle to pick one and cancel the other, and it’s something that should be able to get taken care of without needing to bother him about it.

He instinctively goes to rub at his eyes once he’s outside, but he freezes when he hears:

“If you fuck up your makeup, I’m not fixing it for you. I hope you’re done shooting in there.”

His head snaps to the side, and he sees none other than Jack Kelly.

He’s leaning against the wall, with half of a foil-wrapped bodega breakfast sandwich in one hand and a coffee in the other, obviously on a break. He’s still wearing his makeup-stained apron over his clothes— comfy-looking joggers and a t-shirt that shows off his tattoo-covered arms— and he’s got a Givenchy beanie perched almost precariously high on his head. He doesn’t seem pissed, mostly amused, but Davey has heard rumours about his allegedly quick temper; fucking up his work would be a good way to get on his bad side.

“Sorry,” Davey sighs. He folds his arms over his chest to keep his hands away from his face. “I think I’m done— they might want more shots once they look at what we’ve got, though. I don’t know. I have to get out of here soon for a fitting uptown either way.”

It was Jack who applied the fancy, editorial eye makeup that Davey nearly ruined— his apprentice does the base layers of foundation and whatnot, but it’s Jack’s artistic vision and skill that people pay for when they book him for stuff like this, so he does the important parts himself. He takes his sweet time, snapping at people when they try to rush him, which is why Davey spent over an hour in the makeup chair this morning.

It’s probably the tenth or-so time Jack has done his makeup, but they’ve barely ever conversed, both of them too busy being pulled in a million different directions by everyone else on set.

“Busy day, huh?” Jack chuckles. His nose crinkles a little when he laughs, and it makes his septum piercing wiggle. He takes a bite of his sandwich and then talks as he chews. “What were you yelling about in there?”

Davey very nearly rolls his eyes.

“Nothing,” he mutters. “It’d just be nice if my assistant would fucking assist me sometimes, instead of asking me a million questions about every stupid little thing. He drives me insane, I swear.”

Jack quirks an eyebrow.

“Fire him, then.” He shrugs. “You’d have to start calling your own Ubers and picking up your own coffees, though… might be tough.”

Davey is pretty sure he’s joking, but he does have a point— Romeo takes care of a lot of the day-to-day shit that Davey himself doesn’t have time for anymore, everything from posting on his social media to ordering his groceries. He does a lot more than anyone gives him credit for.

“I’m not gonna fire him. He’s a good kid,” Davey sighs. “I’m just… pissed off right now. I needed to get outside and breathe for a minute.”

Jack finishes his sandwich, crumpling up the foil and shoving it into a pocket of his apron. He then reaches into a different pocket and procures a joint and a lighter.

“Here.” He holds them out to Davey. “Chill out a little.”

Davey blinks, staring more at Jack’s tattooed fingers than what’s held between them, and then quickly shakes his head.

“Sorry, no. I don’t smoke.”

Jack laughs.

“You’re a model, and you don’t smoke?” he teases. “That’s funny, tell another one.”

Maybe it was a good thing he hasn’t talked much to Jack before— he’s really fucking annoying.

“Fine, only cigarettes,” Davey ultimately concedes. “I’m not into weed.”

Jack shrugs and lights the joint, taking it to his own lips for a puff.

“Suit yourself.”

It’s quiet for a second as Jack exhales the smoke. He’s a real picture of effortless beauty— he’s obviously not thinking about his appearance right now, but there’s something almost untouchable about how casually gorgeous he is.

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” Davey ends up adding, “but I get so hungry when I’m high. I’m on a diet right now, so I can’t do that to myself.”

Jack shakes his head.

“Models… maybe that’s why you guys are brats. You’re hangry all the time.”

“Hangry?”

“You know, hungry and angry. You get all irritable because your agent convinced you a human can survive on, like, three almonds a day, when any sane person knows that’s bullshit.”

Davey’s stomach grumbles annoyingly, as if on cue. He’s not even that hungry. He already had a coffee this morning anyways, which should’ve been enough to get him through to dinner time.

“You’re kind of a dick,” Davey remarks. He wouldn’t typically be so blunt, but his bad mood is making him lose his filter. “What’s your deal?”

Jack shrugs.

“I’m tired. People think I’m an asshole for trying to take my time and do my job right, but when I rush it and cut corners to keep people happy, they get pissed that it doesn’t look good. There’s no winning, and it’s fucking exhausting.” He takes another puff of the joint. “Pays the bills, though.”

Davey rolls his eyes.

“That hat you’re wearing retails for, like, five hundred dollars. I think it pays more than your bills.”

Jack laughs, and it’s not that cynical chuckle from before. He actually smiles, caught off guard by the remark.

“Fair point. In my defence, I got the hat for free from a photoshoot. Another perk, I guess.”

Davey finds himself smiling too.

“How long have you been doing makeup?”

“I’ve been playing with it forever,” Jack replies, “but professionally, about five years. How long have you been in the game?”

“Almost a year.” Davey pauses. “I was in school— I actually finished undergrad and got into law— but it wasn’t right. I got scouted in August, and thought fuck it, I might as well try. It worked out pretty well, I’d say.”

Jack eyes him sort of curiously.

“You gave up law school for this?”

“Got out of going to law school, more like. I didn’t want to do it.” Davey shrugs. “It was more my parents’ thing. I wasn’t that interested.”

Jack blows a ring of smoke, almost absentmindedly.

“How do they feel about your career change?”

Davey shakes his head.

“I haven’t talked to them in, like, a month, if that tells you anything.”

“Damn.” Jack offers the joint to Davey again. “You sure you don’t want some?”

A pause.

“Fuck, I guess a couple hits couldn’t hurt.”

Jack grins and passes it over.

“I knew it.”

Davey silently takes a breath of smoke. It’s been forever since he’s indulged this way, and it feels good. He coughs a little on the first hit, but his head almost immediately feels clearer, so he goes for another.

“Feel better?” Jack asks, after a long moment.

“Yeah,” Davey breathes. “Thank you.”

He passes the joint back to Jack, who stubs it out on the railing— there’s just enough left that he could relight it for a few more puffs later, once this little buzz wears off.

“We should hang out sometime,” Jack offers. “I’d like to get to know you, Jacobs.” He pauses. “Any relation to Marc?”

“Nope. I walked for him in the spring, though.” Davey laughs softly. “You’re right, we should hang out. I’m going to Paris tomorrow, but I’ll be back in two weeks— let’s plan for then.”

Jack picks his coffee up from where he set it on the windowsill.

“I’ll bring the weed, if you bring home some cool European snacks for us to try.”

Smoking and snacking are both habits that Davey should be trying to avoid— but god, would it ever feel good to unwind when he gets home from this work trip. Maybe he deserves a night to relax with a new friend.

“Sounds good to me,” he replies, against his better judgement. “I should go, but I’ll DM you, okay?”

“Perfect,” Jack says. He waves as Davey turns to head inside. “Have a great trip. Take it easy on your poor assistant, okay?”

Davey laughs.

“Will do. I swear I don’t normally yell at people like that. Just… running low on patience today, y’know?”

That’s a stretch— he runs low on patience pretty often these days, and Romeo tends to take the brunt of it, but Davey pays him to deal with it, so he doesn’t feel that bad about it. When you’re a star, there’s certain things you can get away with: Davey’s occasional bitch fits are no worse than Jack’s famous temper tantrums. When you’re at the top, who’s going to give you shit about it?

“Oh, I know.” Jack winks. “I think we’ve got a lot in common, Dave.”

Davey smiles coyly over his shoulder as he heads back inside. He knows he looks good— he revels a little in the way Jack’s gaze stays glued to him. Maybe he’s admiring his own work, but maybe he’s admiring the canvas underneath it.

“I think you might be right. See you around, Kelly.”

And then he’s immediately being hurried back into a makeup chair so someone can clean his face, in order for him to be whisked off to the fitting that he’s already late for— at this point, people know better than to expect him to be on time.

Again, he’s a star, he does what he wants.

If he wants to waste time smoking outside with Jack Kelly, nobody’s going to stop him. Maybe he’ll make a habit out of it.

#in which davey is a bitch and jack is an asshole and they just work.#they are deeply unpleasant bc of their respective mental health issues that they refuse to deal with and now they enable each other teehee #poor romeo lol #idk why i picked him when i could’ve picked any newsie it just felt right #jack kelly #davey jacobs #javid #model au #my writing #i hope this is the vibe you were going for!!! ily jac!!

46 notes · View notes

joon-xbts · 2 years

Text

Forgive Me (Kim Yugyeom)

Artist: Kim Yugyeom Genre: Smut

High school… Everyone has their own definition of how their experience was. A word to describe mine so far would have to be “rollercoaster”. It’s great one moment and then the next it’s a total disaster. One minute I’m the happiest I have ever been and the next moment my entire world crashes down right in front of me. Three years just gone as if they had meant nothing and the worst part is that the person who caused it all seems to not even care.

Seulgi: Come on Y/N, it’s been three months. It’s time that you move on

Irene: She’s right, you can’t let this get to you

You: I can’t just let three years with him go

Seulgi: But you also can’t just let it ruin your life either. This is our Senior year, we should be living it up and instead you’re still hung up on a guy who clearly doesn’t want to be with you anymore

Irene: It’s time you get back out there, just enjoy being single for a while and who knows maybe one day a nice guy will come along and sweep you off your feet

You: I don’t know if I can, it’s been three years since I was last single

Seulgi: Which is why you’re gonna need some help from us but you’ll be fine

Irene: That’s why we’re gonna hit the club tonight, try to get you back into the element of being single

I’m not left with much choice to protest against it, their minds are made up. I just sigh and glance around the cafeteria, my eyes instantly catching his staring back at me.

Seulgi: Yah Kim Yugyeom! Look elsewhere you jerk!!

Our eye contact didn’t last much longer after that, I watch as he quickly gathers his things and leaves.

Irene: The nerve of him

I quietly avert my gaze back to the girls and sigh. Maybe I do need this, it’s about time I move on.

-Time Skip-

Seulgi: Oh my god I love your dress!

You: Really? It’s not too short

Seulgi: Girl you’re single, you can wear short things now

Irene: That’s how you get a guy’s attention. They always tend to notice a girl in a tight short dress

You: I’m gonna go get some more to drink, you guys want anything?

Seulgi: I think we’re good for right now

I turn and begin to weave myself through the crowd and towards the bar. Just like the girls said I drew in almost every guy’s attention as I sat at the bar awaiting my drink. A few even offered to pay for my drink and offered to treat me to a good time later. One guy really stood out to me however, he didn’t hit on me like the rest. He was a complete gentleman and just wanted a conversation with me, to which we enjoyed as we drank. It wasn’t until the liquor hit me that I mustered up the courage to ask him for a dance. I smiled to myself as we made our way to the dance floor, swaying our bodies to the music as soon as we found a spot. Everything just seemed to melt away as we danced. Any thought of Yugyeom or feelings I had just seemed to melt away as I danced with this complete stranger. It wasn’t until his arm snaked around my waist that everything flooded back to me and I felt the sudden urge to cry. I couldn’t help but remember how Yugyeom held me close to him whenever we were together and always said that he would do anything to make me happy. Yet here I was drunk and trying to drown myself in the presence of a stranger, hoping that he’ll help me forget but he only helps remind me that Yugyeom is gone.

Man: You want another drink?

You: Yes please

I don’t even notice him leave until I actually process the fact that he is no longer standing in front of me. That’s when I realize that I’m alone…. again. It’s when a presence is felt in front of me again that I look up but instead of being met with the strange man I am met with the same man who I can’t get out of my head.

You: Yugyeom?

Yugyeom: What are you doing here? And dressed like that, are you out of your mind?

I mindlessly watch as he takes off his jacket and attempts to wrap it around my waist before I process everything and shove his hands away.

You: I can dress however I want!

Yugyeom: So you can dress like a whore?!

You: If that’s how I want to dress then I can! We’re not together anymore Yugyeom, I can dress however and do whatever I feel like

Yugyeom: So that’s how you feel

You: Yeah, now if you’ll excuse me I’m waiting for someone

I watch as he shakes his head and slowly disappears into the crowd. As soon as he is out of sight I break down, the tears I had been holding in painted my face as I unraveled. It took a few moments before the man returned with our drinks and by that point I had cleaned myself up a bit and calmed down.

Man: You okay?

You: Yeah, I could just really use a drink

As soon as the drink was placed in my hand it was downed and I found myself heading back to the bar for a few more. Once again as I felt the liquor hit, I was numbed, the man’s touch wasn’t known to me. All I knew was that I was moving my body to the beat. After a while I found myself making my way to the bathroom. It wasn’t long after I had been in there that I heard the door locking and I turn to see Yugyeom standing by the door.

You: What are you doing in here? This is the girls’ bathroom

Yugyeom: Do you have any idea how bad it hurts me to see you dancing with another man? Watching as he touches you like I used to

You: Why would it hurt you? You’re the one who broke up with me remember

Yugyeom: I still love you, I didn’t have much choice

You: What do you mean you didn’t have a choice?

Yugyeom: My dad threatened to kick me out if I didn’t leave you. I made a huge mistake, and it kills me everyday

I had nothing to say. I tried to form any kind of words that might make sense, but nothing came.

Yugyeom: Can you forgive me?

You: I don’t know

Yugyeom: I’ve been a wreck without you

I scoff.

You: That’s a funny joke

Yugyeom: I’m not joking

You: Well, I don’t believe a word that you’re saying right now. Even if it were true, you still chose something else over me. If you truly loved me, you would have chosen me, you knew that you always had a place to stay when you were with me

He stays silent and I chuckle.

You: Exactly

I push my way past him and head for the door, instantly feeling him gripping my arm.

Yugyeom: Please don’t leave, I can’t lose you

You: You already lost me, now if you’ll excuse me I have somebody waiting for me

Yugyeom: You really think that he could replace me? Make you feel as good as I made you feel?

A smirk forms on his lips as his body moves to pin me against the door. His hands can be felt roaming down my body, leaving my skin burning with desire. His touch was toxic and addicting. I yearned for more, yet I still felt angry at him for what he had done. I battled with myself as I tried not to give in to my desires. His lips moved to my neck as he planted kiss after kiss, trailing down to my cleavage and back up. He had a way of driving me crazy with just his touch. As he moved in to press a kiss to my lips I turned away before his hand moved my face back towards his.

Yugyeom: Don’t fight it babe, I know you miss my touch and how good my c*ck can make you feel

I groan and eventually give in, letting his lips ravage my own. The music echoed throughout the bathroom as our bodies molded together, his clothed member pressing firmly against my womanhood. My hands moved to cup his bulge as I palmed him through his tight-fitting pants, listening as he groaned at my touch.

Yugyeom: God, I want you

You: Then take me

His hands instantly hooked my legs as he lifted me off the ground and carried me to the sink, placing me roughly down on the counter as he began undoing his pants. I watched steadily as he moved my underwear to the side and slid his member into my soaked cavern, slightly stretching me as he inched his way in. My hands instantly clutched the side of the counter as I tried to distract myself from the pain. Taking notice of my actions Yugyeom’s lips were pressed to mine as another opportunity to distract me from the pain. He gently began moving, taking his time as he let me adjust before I gave him a signal that I had. His movements sped up as he found a rhythm. Our moans echoed throughout the bathroom briefly before they were muffled by the change in music. His hands gripped the counter as he slammed himself in me over and over again, soon finding my sweet spot that left me arching my back. He took that as his chance to attack my neck, sucking at the bare skin presented before him. I could feel every inch of him, from the rock-hard c*ck that was buried within my cavern to the sweat that dripped down from his soaked hair. This was the feeling I had missed the most, the one time that I could truly feel him and not just in the sexual way. I could feel his heartbeat through his fingertips and could feel him tremble with each breath he took. My body tensed as the knot in my stomach grew, soon reaching its limit as I unraveled under Yugyeom. He kept a consistent pace and soon found himself unraveling, releasing his seed deep inside of me. Everything grew quiet between us as we pulled ourselves together. He gently helped me off the counter and back onto wobbly feet.

Yugyeom: So, do you forgive me now?

#kpop smut #kpop oneshots #kpop #got7 #got7 smut #got7 oneshot #kim yugyeom #yugyeom #got7 yugyeom #yugyeom oneshot #yugyeom smut #kim yugyeom smut

46 notes · View notes

ennaku-sirri-da · 1 year

Text

i thought this time

this time, I'm gonna make it

why I thought so, I really don't know

maybe something in his eyes just told me so

tell me lies, and i'll come runnin'

[ ID: Traditional fanart of Kamal Bora and Dr. Habit from Smile For Me the game. The style is semi-realistic.

In the artist’s redesign, Habit has a gaunt face with protruding furry cheeks, cotton-stuffed ears, then red fur-ruffles under his makeup-applied eyes, then a thin pencil stache with surrounding hair on the chin and neck. He is balding on one side of the head. On the neck is a visible Adams apple. He has a X-like scar near his mouth, and stitches on his neck, scars on his ball-jointed, wrinkled hands. He has on purple eyeshadow and red claws plus lipstick. All his hair is in shades of rose-pink. Habit wears a fur-like blue coat with rougher yet still soft material for teal sleeves. A rose is kept in a stitched-in chest pocket.

Kamal meanwhile looks mostly the same except for a more aged appearance-- wrinkly face and white streaks in grayish hair. Some acne and sharp stubble, hair on fingers, gaptooth is visible. He sports a single gold earring. His full sleeve shirt is red.

They are colored somewhat roughly with a mixture of colored pencils and sketches. From the front view, Habit has his arms around the other, bending down and touching Kamal's hair. His own hair surrounds the both of them. Kamal rests one hand in the other's, the palm of which is soft, patched cotton. His other hand is held up to one side of his face which bears a weary, pained expression. Eyes closed, tears escape. Habit smiles( he has broken teeth) in a way that's taking strain. He too weeps in much the same way.

BG is a messily painted vivid deep yellow overlaid with many ribbons of red swaying through. Habit and Kamal are below the top of the BG, mostly encircled on the outer lines by encroaching red paint. Lyrics to a mashup of Viva la Vida and Pompeii read, in slightly different fonts and colors( blue pen, black and purple sketches)--

I used to rule the world

Seas would rise when I gave the word

Now in the morning I sleep alone

I was left to my own devices

Many days fell away with nothing to show

And the walls kept tumbling down in the city that we love

I hear Jerusalem bells a-ringin'

Roman cavalry choirs are singing

But if you close your eyes

DOES it almost feel like NOTHING changed at all?

Above the two is a line from Habit- " Trust me, trust me tomorrow is the day. " end ID]

Oh uh talk under the cut!

People, I'll admit, if I haven't before-- and if I have, then I request pardon, because my memory isn't that great-- I worry about posting stuff like this. I worry I'm being too emotional, too attached, too personal, just weird....

But I must be the one to tell my story and share it. Take it or leave it. I'm just another face in this crowd with my own trifles. If you'll listen to my passing songs, all is good and well just the same as when you don't.

Well I guess I can start with how I'm amazed that I've drawn this. This is nearly 10 years of improvement. I'm proud!

And OK, yeah, this was drawn for my birthday. But it has more of a New Years feeling in my head. Something like..." oh my god, we survived ". Something like a beginning but not a wholly new one; the road you have tread so far is still behind you. Strewn with all manners of things. How I think about it. The days were there when I think and think about them and forget to go forward. And sometimes it will all catch up to me and break away the forward path.

It's incredibly painful.

I won't go too much into that but imagine my mind when I heard a soft, sweet acoustic cover of Pompeii by Bastille. It's a song I've previously associated with those bottomless pit-like emotions. So this was like a sign from God himself--not even exaggerating. It felt like a glimpse into when everything could be over.

When Heaven is real, and the angels have said, " Your journey is over, now rest."

But still I am on Earth. The moment is brief and finite, however long. Happiness after pain and then pain to continue.

Here that is. I have painted it for myself.

Words are hard...

It had begun again. You don't mind.

That's what friends are for.

---

youtube

#my art #fanart #s4m #smile for me game #kamal bora #dr habit #roseverse #s4m au #habismal #personal

8 notes · View notes

jess-unkommentiert · 2 years

Text

[2] Eyes never lie!

-> Heartbeats 💕 Masterlist

June 2022 – New Brunswick "Nice to meet you. I'm y/n y/l/n.", she said with a smile on her face and broke the silence. He also smiled and she realized that his nose crunched a little while smiling.

"Hi, my name is Sebastian Stan. Nice to meet you, too", he said while waving with his hand. There was no time to continue the conversation as Christina entered the room – looking stunning as always.

She made her way throw the crowd, saying hi to everyone. When she finally made it to the three of them she gave Sebastian a long hug

"Seb! Oh my God, I am so happy that you made it. I heard you are currently very busy, so I wasn't sure."

He smiled at her and said "I told you I will be there if I'm in town this weekend. So here I am" and gave her another hug.

Sebastian introduced Anthony and Christina and as Christina saw y/n standing right next to them she winked at her and told the boys "Ah, you already met y/n. She is responsible for this amazing sapphire make-up that I'm wearing. She also chose my dress. She has an amazing taste. If you ever need a hair and make-up artist let me know and I will give you her number!"

Christinas compliments made y/n blush and she hoped the dimmed light would help to hide it from Mackie and Sebastian.

Christina turned around to her guests and welcomed them formally by telling everybody where they can get their drinks and food. After she finished everybody applauded her. Y/n smiled at her in full admiration. She would never be brave enough to talk in front of so many people. She has always been the shy kid in school – what never really bothered her.

Mackie and Sebastian got themselves a drink at the bar and left into the crowd – leaving y/n all alone. She encouraged herself to head into the crowd as well and start talking with some of the guest. She took another Champagne at the bar and slowly walked around the guests.

At first she stopped around three older men and their wives but as she heard that they were talking about financial investments she tried to leave the conversation as soon as possible. Paying the rent every month was terrifying enough, there was not much money for bigger investments than a pizza for dinner.

She passed a group of beautiful actresses who talked about their make-up as one of the women touched her arm and said "Hey, I've heard you are Christina's hair and make-up artist! The sapphire make-up you created today is gorgeous. Please tell us more about the upcoming make-up trends". Y/n smiled and turned to the ladies. They discussed about pastel colors for eye make-up and what lipstick they would choose to match it. After 30 minutes of passionate discussions she decided to not talk about work anymore. She wanted to enjoy the evening so she said goodbye to the ladies after giving them her number for potential future bookings.

They kind of forced her to do that. She hadn't expected to get new clients on that party – her goal was to celebrate her friend's birthday.

At the end of the room y/n saw Vincent, an actor from one of the movies y/n worked as Christina's make-up artist. She headed directly for him and when he saw her, he smiled at her and gave her a hug as warm welcome. "Hey y/n it's so good to see you!" he said and introduced her to the people standing around him – all actors and actresses. A few of their faces seemed familiar to her but she was never good with names. The next one and a half hour she spent her timing listening to different topics about the work as an actor/actress while eating finger-food and drinking Champagne.

She really enjoyed being around them, but she needed to go to the restroom and maybe get some "real food" from the buffet afterwards. Unfortunately no one really got food from the buffet – maybe they all wanted to maintain their figure for upcoming projects. She hated the toxic environment of the modeling and acting industry. "You are not a better actress just because you are skinny.", she thought while winding her way through the crowd.

At the restroom she found two women refreshing their lipsticks. She looked into the mirror herself and saw her face in a very natural way. She still liked that. No need to fresh up anything, not like "putting on a mask" or something. Just her face. No face lifting or botox, no heavy make-up. You could even see some blackheads and a small pimple on her chin. She did not belong in this glamorous high-society world, so she did not even try to look perfect or impress someone.

On her way back to party she went to have a closer look on the food at the buffet. Everything looked so delicious and she was very sad that it was barely touched. So she took a plate and loaded it with everything she wanted to eat.

"Seems like someone is pretty hungry, huh?", she heard a familiar voice behind her back. As she turned around, she saw Sebastian standing in front of her.

Her green eyes met his blue ones before she smiled and said "Well yeah. I am pretty sure there were a lot of talented cooks involved to create such an amazing buffet. I think we owe it to their hard work to try as much as possible!" His eyes extended a bit as he was surprised about her answer.

"You are absolutely right!", he said and took a plate. "Anything you can recommend?" he continued to her.

She shook her head while saying "Oh no, it's my first plate so I haven't tried anything yet. But as I love Italian food, I would suggest you take one of the Bruschetta over there". His eyes followed her hand as she pointed on the Bruschetta.

He put two on his plate and turned around while saying: "Oh yeah, I also love Italian food. Pizza will forever be my favorite cheat meal!" They both carried their plates to a table.

y/n placed her plate on the table and asked: "I'm gonna get myself a cocktail. Anything to drink for you?"

He smiled and said: "Oh yeah sure. Just get me the same cocktail as yours."

y/n raised her eyebrow in disbelief. "Are you sure? I mean I prefer the very very sweet cocktails. Most people don't like that. I can get you something you want. Just let me know." She said to him.

He laughed and responded: "I am a sweet guy, so it will be fine." She rolled her eyes on his response and turned around to head to the bar "Oh gosh, did he really say that? I don't know if he is just very arrogant or just tried to be funny" she thought. She felt his eyes following her – making her feel uncomfortable because she didn't want to trip or embarrass herself in other ways.

As she made it to the bar without any accidents she sighed in relief and ordered two cocktails. As y/n got both glasses, she turned around to their table and saw Sebastian tasting the Bruschetta. His eyes were closed as he seemed to enjoy the taste of tomatoes, garlic and bread. She couldn't help herself and smiled upon this man enjoying his food.

Suddenly he opened his eyes and looked in her direction. As she realized that he probably caught her smiling, she suddenly stopped and blushed. He started laughing (she could see the little crunches around his nose from across the room) and when she returned to the table she said "I am sorry, I didn't want to stalk you. Looked like you really enjoy the Bruschetta".

"Oh yeah, I really did. You were right. Bruschetta is freaking awesome." he answered. Then he muttered a "Thank you" while tasting the Cocktail y/n got him. Y/n saw him taking a huge sip with the yellow straw – waiting inpatient for his opinion on the Cocktail. He looked at her and said "Well, it is indeed very very sweet. You were not lying. But I like it. Couldn't drink it the whole night but it's fine."

"Are you just too polite so say that you don't like it?" she answered while laughing.

"No.. well.. maybe. How do you know?" he answered and for a short moment y/n thought he saw him blushing.

"Your eyes told me. Eyes never lie! It's okay. You don't have to drink it. More Cocktails for me", she said while reaching her hands across the table to push Sebastians glass next to her plate. As his left hand was still holding the glass, she accidently touched his hand. For only a fraction of a second she felt that their hearts were beating in the same rhythm – the world around them ssemed to be frozen again.

Both needed a few seconds to realize what happened before he left his glass for her to push it across the table. They smiled at each other – both trying to hide the short moment of insecurity of what happened.

"How it's like to be a famous actor?", y/n asked him before she took a huge bite of her Bruschetta.

"Well it's a lot of work. People think we're just living a glamorous life but to be honest most of my days I try to prepare for the next role. Learning my lines, do research on my characters and prepare my body for the shoot. It is physically and mentally exhausting especially when you don't have much time between your projects." He answered, sighed and looked at her. Y/n could see the exhaustion in his eyes although he tried to hide it with a quick smile.

"It is very sad that most people don't see the hard work and commitment you put into your work. I have a lot of respect for actors and actresses. I couldn't do that. I mean I would literally just lose myself within all the roles that I portrayed.", y/n answered and she could see that he was impressed by her answer.

"You learn to separate yourself from the roles you play. I mean I played a narcissistic and psychopathic cannibal in the movie 'Fresh'. Obviously, I am not a cannibal.", he said while taking a bite from a meatball - winking at her. Christina told her to watch that movie a few weeks ago, so she understood the reference with the meatball.

She laughed and answered: "Well we don't know what these meatballs are made of. I HOPE it's not human meat". Y/n saw that his jaw dropped, he put the rest of the meatball back on the plate and started laughing. She never saw him laughing like that before as he tilted his head back, his mouth wide open and he clapped his hand on his thigh. Y/n couldn't help herself and started laughing as well.

He started to catch his breath after laughing for over a minute and answered: "So you did see the movie. And thanks. I can't finish that meatball now." He winked at her, still smiling. Out of an impulse she took her fork, stabbed it into the rest of his meatball and put it into her mouth while winking back at him. Sebastian was shocked but started laughing again.

"What's so funny over here?" Y/N saw Mackie standing at their table with a plate in his right hand. "Oh y/n made an amazing joke you just missed.", Sebastian answered while pointing on the chair next to him to let Mackie know that he can take a seat with them.

They continued making jokes and talking about a lot of random stuff until Sebastian looked at his phone and said: "Mackie, it's already very late. I'm tired. I think I'm gonna leave, would you like to stay or go back to NYC?"

"I will join you. I need my eight hours of sleep to look as beautiful as I am.", Mackie answered and winking at y/n. She laughed. "By the way, y/n where are you from?" he continued.

"I have an apartment in Brooklyn.", she answered. "Oh, so would you like to share a cap with us back to the city?", Sebastian asked and for a short moment y/n thought his eyes lightened.

"Well, that's very nice but I'll stay here. I have one of the guest rooms.", she answered while pointing upstairs. "Okay then. It was a pleasure to meet you Miss y/n – best make-up artist in the U.S.", Mackie said, made a bow and kissed one of her hands. Y/N looked confused about the bizarre situation and muttered: "Yeah.. ehm.. a pleasure to meet you two Mr. Falcon" - making Mackie laugh.

She stood in front of Sebastian – both unsure if they should hug or just shake hands. He opened his arm making it clear for her that he wanted to hug her, so she gave him a long hug. His hands were still on her waist after the hug as he said "Thank you for the nice evening. We should talk and laugh again someday." She nodded, unable to answer while her green eyes met his steel-blue ones.

"I've never met someone with more beautiful eyes than his.", she thought. Mackie cleared his throat so Sebastian let go y/n's waist and both boys left the party – leaving a overwhelmed y/n behind.

11 notes · View notes

aye-of-newt · 1 year

Note

For the music emoji ask game: 🎥📚🥲💖 please!

🎥song that paints a picture in my mind: I had such a hard time with this question because I felt like a story song or a musical theater song would be “cheating”.

I am just going to go with “Palmcorder Yajna” by the Mountain Goats because it’s both very explicit and very... not at the same time. Like it’s very easy to understand once you know what all the references are referencing.

Either way, it’s evocative for sure.

😢song that makes you cry: “Unlikely Lovers” from Falsettos. At this point in the musical, the character Whizzer is dying of AIDS and his partner and their friends visit him in the hospital. The line “and we vow that we will buy the farm arm in arm” tends to be where I lose it. Even if the context wasn’t so crushing the harmony at the point alone would bring me to tears.

💖 guilty pleasure song: Now I like to say that I don’t believe in guilty pleasures because you shouldn’t feel guilty for enjoying things regardless of what others think…. but if I had to pick I would say Not the Boy Next Door— the glee cast recording by Chris Colfer. I know glee is categorically Not Good and people mock it relentlessly. And a lot of it is deserved because... woof.

And yet, it was very important to me as a child in the conservative rural midwest. Honestly glee was actually they first ever representation I can remember seeing at like 9 (I think?) years old. Of course my parents made me turn it off because a gay people were “disgusting” …but I still remembered how when Kurt came out, his dad told him he loved him and that it was okay. And that planted in me a seed of an idea of a belief that maybe my parents weren’t right about everything. And, you know what? By the time I realized that I am gay the idea didn’t automatically make me hate myself. Because I had been told just once in an incredibly crucial moment that it is okay. So yeah. Glee is important actually.

And Chris Colfer is just simply an incredible performer. I love his voice. He kills this song.

📚 song/album you could write a term paper on: Sunday from tick tick boom (specifically the 2021 movie adaptation directed by Lin Manuel Miranda)

Abridged term paper as follows:

To understand the brilliance of this song and the emotional sucker punch it carries you need to know a bit of musical theater history. So let’s start with the place that makes the most sense, with “god” himself-- Stephen Sondheim.

Sondheim was one of the most (if not THE most) respected composers and lyricists in musical theater history. I cannot think of any singular person who has impacted their chosen art form to the same massive extent as Steve impacted musical theater. To compare him to Shakespeare is not an exaggeration. He was revered and beloved almost universally within the theater community, not only for his genius but for who he was as a person. He was known as an excellent teacher and mentor (just watch him instruct a college student attempting to sing one of the most difficult songs he ever wrote/one of the most difficult songs in musical theater here) and for answering quite literally every single one of the thousands upon thousands of pieces of fan-mail he received.

One of his beloved musicals and the show he described as being his “most autobiographical”/the one that he put the most of himself into, was Sunday in the Park with George. It was inspired by the painting A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte by Georges Seurat, though the story is largely fictionalized.

(you know, this painting)

The themes of Sunday in the Park with George center around what it means to be an artist, the desire to leave a legacy, and making choices between one’s creative work vs one’s relationships. Act one closes with the song “Sunday” in which George makes order out of the chaos of life and places the final touches to his masterpiece, capturing a perfect moment, and cementing his legacy, forever.

With the background laid, let us move on to talking about Jonathan Larson, one of the young writers Sondheim mentored who went on to do great work.

Jonathan is best known for writing the book, music, and lyrics for Rent-- a musical which won several Tony Awards, including Best Musical; the Pulitzer Prize for Drama; ran for twelve years on Broadway; influenced the creation of a new sub-genre of musical; and became massively popular and iconic, not only in the theater world but in popular culture as well. However, Jonathan was never able to see his work become a success as he tragically died of an aortic dissection on the morning that Rent was to perform its first preview performance. He was only thirty-five years old.

Jonathan struggled his entire professional career to achieve recognition from the world at large, something that he expressed in his own semi-autobiographical piece Tick, Tick... Boom! The musical was originally formatted as a “rock monologue” that Jon performed himself, though it has seen many revisions since his death, eventually turning it into the fully-formed musical it is today.

The show begins with Jonathan discussing his fear of turning thirty. The theme of "running out of time” was first introduced to the piece by Jonathan himself to illustrate his fear of getting older, but it was hugely emphasized in later productions by writers and directors who knew that he never would. Today, the looming sense of some inescapable fate pervades throughout the show as viewers know what is coming and are helpless to stop it. Jonathan will become famous and respected and beloved, but he will never see it. While everyone in the show assures him that he is still young and has a bright future ahead of him, we know differently. He is running out of time. He only has five years left.

In this sad way, the show that originally began as a piece by a young man fighting for his future has become a bittersweet legacy we look back on, making meaning out of Jonathan’s work that he would never realize was there. This is exemplified nowhere better than in the song “Sunday”.

“Sunday” began as a simple parody of Sondheim’s “Sunday”, recognizable for what it is from the first few notes and becoming clearer and clearer as the song progresses. The original joke of the piece was that Jonathan was arranging the patrons and crappy interior of the diner where he worked in the same way that George was constructing his masterpiece, drawing a comparison between the mundane (or even ugly) and something beautiful.

To make it meta: in Jonathan’s semi-autobiographical musical about his struggles as an artist, he referenced his mentor’s semi-autobiographical musical about the struggles of being an artist. Of course, in the parody, Jon cast himself as the pale imitation of great art, suggesting he was nothing in comparison. It was light-hearted, fun, and, at the time, a pretty recent/topical reference to make. It was never meant to be anything more than a joke.

But then Jonathan left a legacy.

In the 2021 film, Lin Manuel Miranda made phenomenal directorial decisions in a dozen different places but “Sunday” was his home run. He transformed the song from a joke to the pinnacle of what Tick, Tick...Boom! has become, a tribute to the memory of Jonathan Larson.

Throughout the movie, there are cameos of countless famous Broadway figures, but those that appear in the diner scene and utilized perfectly. From true veteran legends, to modern celebrities, to original cast members of Rent, the diner is packed with heroes of the stage. As the song progresses they join in behind Jon to form an inter-generational choir, representing the past, present, and future of musical theater. You can see the arch of the line passing down, the years of history represented and the lives changed. And the hope that radiates toward the future.

A passion and joy for musical theater was passed from Sondheim onto Jonathan, and he went forward to inspire a new generation of theater kids-- including Lin Manuel Miranda. Who, regardless of your personal feelings about him, has already made enormous impact on the world of musical theater and lit the flame for another generation of kids.

That’s what this moment means.

It’s a celebration and a thank you and an honoring of our history, of those that came before us and inspired us, of those who are our future.

There is a moment that is always guaranteed to bring me to tears. As the song nears its peak, “Jon” (played by Andrew Garfield, who should have won an Oscar damn it) takes the hand of legend Bernadette Peters, who originated the role of Dot in Sunday in the Park with George (the main female character, the woman in purple in the painting). She is dressed similarly to her character, including her hat (trust me, the hat is important) and he ushers her into her place in the light. He places his hands over his heart, complete adoration in his eyes, and he bows to her. It’s a sign of utmost respect, of both Jon (the real Jon) acknowledging the legend of Sondheim that came before him, and Lin nodding to both Jon and Steve. It’s all of us watching and wishing we got the chance to say thank you to Steve and Jon and all the others who we look up to and adore.

It’s saying, Jonathan, you didn’t get to see it, but you are remembered. You are loved. You are honored.

You are forever.

#I could talk about tick tick boom for hours #if you want to hear more about it come to my inbox #sorry this is very rambling and not well organized #thanks for the ask!#sorry it took so long to answer!#I was really thinking about the answers #ask game #about me

3 notes · View notes

sweetbunanarchy · 1 year

Text

LET THERE BE ANARCHYYYY

I can’t make like video essays and continuously make threads on twitter and bc of that I am deciding to ramble about my fav things if I’m not posting art bc ay no word limit so FUCK IT WE RAMBLING ABT ANARCHY BAYBEE

The one game that never leaves my mind and the one that inspired my latest username so lets just talk abt real quick :D

When I was in middle school I would get into a good chunk of things like anime, other games. Bc I didn’t have certain systems like most ppl I would just watch gameplays and cutscenes for them in get into them that way. I stumble across a game called MadWorld and immediately become OBSESSED, the style of black & white with the only color splattered everywhere is RED MWAH BEAUTIFUL MY LITTLE BRAIN WAS EXPLODING and not too long after that I learned that there was a continuation of sorts for it...Anarchy Reigns. You know how you take like your ocs and put them in like a whole ‘nother universe, kinda like an au situation yeah that’s what Anarchy Reigns is GBSJDNJF It’s post post-apocalyptic, chaotic and just hell of a lot fun to just look at. But the main charm of it is the characters themselves and how fun and unique they are just in design alone

While the game isn’t story heavy it still has a plot to follow that works imo! Now you’re probably asking (probably not but) “BUN! This looks cool, but why after so many years as a grown ass man are you still so obsessed with a game you didn’t even get to play?” And to that I say....it’s bc of him-

YES ITS BC IM GAY FOR THIS MAN N HE’S THE BLUEPRINT FOR MY ATTRACTION TWORDS FICTIONAL MEN

Visually his design and how big he is (7′2 LOR D HAVE MERCY), his overall design, how expressive he is, hIS CHAINSAW ARM GOD ITS ALL SO DAMN GOOD!!!!!! In MadWorld he’s passed off as this cold-blooded killer bad ass which is sexy as fuck but in AR they give him more depth by giving him a daughter, Stella, and we see a softer, more kind side to him only to see him lose his daughter and through the campaign he runs on grief and rage wanting to get revenge on the bastards that took the one thing that he cared for. THE CAN’T EVEN SMOKE ANYMORE BC STELLA DIDN’T LIKE HIM SMOKING N ITS AAAAAAAAAUGH It’s something that comes off as simple but still just sweet and sad at the same time.

And again the other characters are really good as well but just none of them hit me as hard as Jack did bc of this development he got and if we ever got more content for this game I woulda loved to see it for other characters BUT it’s long gone AGHBDJD. As much as I want platinum to bring it back I know they won’t bUT I CAN STILL DREAM DAMNIT...just hoping they don’t mess it up as Bayo3 bc lord that is a whole nother can of worms for another day. BUT ANYWAY Anarchy Reigns overall has a near and dear place in my heart and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t one of the many things that inspires me as an artist, I miss this shit so damn much and still crossing my fingers for something, if not the AR or MW then...just something of Jack PLATINUM PLEASE-

#bun rambles #I MISS IT....I MISS IT SO MUCH MAN

4 notes · View notes

2q5b · 2 months

Text

KI TISA

By Agnes

March 6th, 2024

There is often a moment before a collapse that the collapse really begins. I’ve had relationships where there’s a thought – something like, Oh, I think this might be over – that appears in the mind. And I might persuade myself that I can make things work, and not yet, and I don’t want it to end, and relationships take work, etc etc. But some part of me knows that it’s already over. The thought has been had. The threshold has been crossed. It’s just a matter of time.

I have it with migraines, too. Oh, I’m going to have a migraine in a few minutes, I find myself thinking. And sure enough, in a few minutes, the familiar symptoms – the sensitivity on my skin, the fleck of blur at the edges of my vision. I am nervous to say this now, honestly, worried that the thinking will bring one on.

There are beginnings. And there are the beginnings before the beginnings.

This week we read about one of the biggest collapses in the history of our people – a mess for which we bear sole responsibility. God brought us out of Egypt with an outstretched arm. God brought us through the desert to the foot of Mount Sinai, where we heard God’s voice – saw the sounds – the mountain was consumed in fire and smoke – and the first thing we heard, the most important, really, was “I am your God. You shall have no other Gods before me.”

This is too terrible, we said, too overwhelming. We get it, we get it. Please, Moses, go up and get the rest of the message for us. And he does. And we wait at the bottom of the mountain, slowly recovering, and beginning to make sense of where we’ve been, what has been done to us and for us.

A week goes by. Two weeks. Three. Five. Six.

Six weeks. Six weeks is time, but not that much time. If we had applied for an artist’s residency, we’d never expect to hear back in six weeks. We’d give it, what, three months? Four? At best. Six weeks is enough time to worry, but you’d think not so long that we’d forget the feeling of the voice, the rumbling of the mountain.

And yet we seem to lose our cool. And we come to Aaron, panicky, sweating, fidgeting, unable to make eye contact. And we insist that we need a new God. One we can see, and touch. One who can lead us through the desert. Aaron spooks. It’s something in our eye. It’s a little scary. And he goes along with it.

I have this theory that the seed of this great betrayal – this moment of idolatry – the moment before the collapse where the collapse really begins – is in a single word. Yadah. Know.

“Come, make us a god who shall go before us, for that fellow Moses—the man who brought us from the land of Egypt—we do not know what has happened to him.” (32:1)

לֹ֥א יָדַ֖עְנוּ מֶה־הָ֥יָה לֽוֹ

What kind of a statement is that?? We do not know what has happened to him. They’re talking about knowledge but really they are avoiding talking about all the things they’re feeling.

They might have said: Aaron, we’re terrified. We need guidance. We are panicking, the future seems unfathomable, the journey ahead overwhelming. What kind of God, what kind of leader, leaves us alone in this state? Help us. They might have said: Aaron, we’re angry. We feel betrayed by this silence, by all the destruction wreaked on the place we were born, by the suffering of the people we knew back in Egypt. What kind of God, what kind of leader, would want to cause that kind of misery, even in the name of our freedom? Help us.

But no: they take all their fear, and anger, and trauma, and they try to contain it, clean the edges off it, wrap it neatly in this little word: know. We do not know.

And they throw it, petulantly, in Aaron’s face. Asking him to take responsibility.

As if knowing Moses’s whereabouts would ease the terror of freedom, resolve the catastrophe of unequally distributed suffering.

As if what they are facing is a failure of knowledge, and not a crisis of being.

The parsha begins with a census. An attempt to figure out how many people are in the camp. You take a census when you want to know who, exactly, you are.

But we are told, in a roundabout way, that we have to be careful when we take a census. It can be dangerous to count the people.

When you take a census of the Israelite men according to their army enrollment, each shall pay God a ransom for himself on being enrolled, that no plague may come upon them through their being enrolled. (30:12)

It’s as if being counted makes us vulnerable. Knowledge does not offer security here. It opens us up to danger. On a certain level, it’s superstition. You get counted and you make yourself vulnerable to the evil eye. Isn’t there a rule where it’s bad luck to point at someone? It’s like that.

The 16th century Italian commentator Sforno has a beautiful read on this, actually. Why is it that we need to count? He asks. We need to count because the number of us is always changing. And why is the number always changing? Because we are mortal. And why are we mortal? Because, back in Eden, we sinned. Every census, he says, is a reminder of sin. God has reason to punish sinners. So a census may be a practical necessity, Sforno tells us, but every time we undertake it we are putting ourselves in grave danger.

I love this reading. I am not sure I agree that sin is the right framework to describe what happens in Eden. But I am very moved by the idea that knowledge is somehow deeply entangled with a sense of our own vulnerability. Our history of violence, our inheritance of fear. The parts of us that want to know are the mortal parts of us. They are small, tender, exposed.

And we deny that connection at our own peril.

We live in a world where knowledge is a source of power, control. It is our knowledge, we think, that keeps us safe. Science will save us from climate change. The experts know best how to solve this or that global crisis. If I can analyze my own emotions, and how they arise from particular patterns in my family, they will not overtake me so totally. I will not have to feel them.

I do believe in scholarship. I believe in reflection, and research, and learning, and therapy.

But I also know that when knowledge becomes a shield we think can protect us from fear, and uncertainty, and the precariousness that is a part of being human, then it quickly becomes a kind of false god.

Later, in second Samuel, God will get angry at the people and incite King David against them. And what does David do, when he gets worked up? He calls for a census. His advisor seems to know what is going on. He says, are you sure? And David says yes, definitely. Do it. So they do the census. And when David has cooled down a little bit, he feels bad.

…afterward David reproached himself for having numbered the people. And David said to the LORD, “I have sinned grievously in what I have done. Please, O LORD, remit the guilt of Your servant, for I have acted foolishly.” (24:10)

Suffice it to say, things don’t go well after that.

This week’s parsha ends in a plague. So does second Samuel. Neither plague follows directly from the census. Other things happen in between – the connection is not direct – but when you zoom out, it’s hard not to feel the inevitability of the link between this act of counting ourselves, which Sforno tells us is a kind of shameful reminder of our own mortality, and this spectacular moment of mass death. The narrative ducks and weaves. It’s like we’re not allowed to draw a straight line. That would be too easy. Too… rational. The story won’t let itself be known that way, parsed that cleanly. The actual unfolding is wayward, startling, scary, violent, unpredictable.

At the same time, seeking knowledge is a part of what we do. It’s not “If you take a census,” it’s, “When you take a census.” We need our scientists, we need our historians, our statisticians, our doctors, our brilliant weirdos with deep wells of learning and experience. But we need to pair that urge towards understanding with a necessary humility. When we take up knowledge, we must also remind ourselves of our fragile mortality. We must pay a ransom – each of us – a provisional prayer that we might be spared.

The angel of death came through Egypt and slew all the firstborns. The angel of death didn’t know Egyptian from Israelite, the angel of death just knew to skip the houses with the blood on the doorpost. The Egyptians are the ones who lost their children that night. But the Israelites left knowing that for their freedom, they owed a life, too. They were not exempt, they were just spared. And so they pay a ransom. There is literally a ceremony for this – pidion ha-ben, in which parents pay a certain amount of money to a Cohen to redeem the life of their first-born child. The implication of the census in this week’s parsha is that we all need to be so redeemed.

I read this parsha and I am reminded of something my rabbi recently said. “Do not entrench,” she said. Meaning: don’t dig yourself into a certain position and refuse to be moved.

I read this parsha and I am reminded that my anguish, my grief, my rage, have something to teach. That I cannot avoid them by either deflecting engagement onto someone else, someone with more expertise.

Do not treat knowledge like a god. Do not entrench.

Do not treat knowledge like a shield. Do not deflect.

Let us remember what it is we are here for. We are here to take care of ourselves, and each other. To walk with mystery. To honor the divinity that surrounds us. To work steadily, and unrelentingly, for a more whole and just world. We are here, in the words of my prayerbook, to praise, to labor, and to love.

What false idols are we worshipping? Is our desire to serve God, and God’s vision of justice? Or is our desire to be right?

We are limited, we are vulnerable.

Let us seek knowledge, but let us do it in a way that acknowledges our fear, our anger, our hope, our desire, and our mortality.

Just before David orders a census taken of the people, we are told that“The anger of the LORD again flared up against Israel”. Rashi offers a comment on this verse. It is unclear from the text what the Israelites did that provoked God this time. And what is it that Rashi says? “I do not know what it was [they did].”

I simply do not know.

1 note · View note

libidomechanica · 9 months

Text

Then echo-like our voice

But when you talk of love; and shake the turmoils they die. That an acre hath been done, there to contain. That thou art not. God, even in a man’s face, as alone she not permitted to waste, and act and lo, thy despair: calm and quite

unaware. You thoughts and music till her dearly. Quiet, some to bus’ness, some to Mary’s house the time draws on, and say: o heart, tho’ in her day, that falls thy shadow on the world since herself, thought once it pleasing, ev’ry prudent part, and

owning but a breakfast, one is at the other thoughts with thee. Love, and soon exhaled, and will be they by: alas! No dreaming of a fancy give, and almost. To fetch thee forth, to do it, the morning, heartbroken profit, other Grace

cries, A thousand tender-pencil’d to Love, O great ship lift her sweet is more and true, that every hour his could bend or cease, how near the bed, echoing inside me. In the noise is the stile from the scale of words in air; choose a fire, and

true, ’ have often she was, and business well done; and in the bridal; friend in deed, demand not yet one lonely grange, or lonely seas. Is next Heaven, to the iron maidens of thee and Me. Could I be less. What light, viziers nodding

together. And all the flaming Foal of Heaven had heed of creeds in love doth his Pomp abode his hands are the blessed. Unloved, they did aright; he look’d the master of our good; or crush her, resist? Sailor at the waters run; thou may’st love,

or how: but be glad and grace and they are but beauty, but with me till the gay, like clouded noons, thy sailor to his will gather’d power, I do not know why he bent at thy wisdom make more to see how each other, who wanted me

into the year, its newness and like thy laurel crown of the air, and down in them, thou then? To you of my choices? And was the air is cool as light, my orphane place where he breast, clad in arms where I firmly trod, and turned to the chords

and face; no lower and fro. To hear, All here to public manners breeds. Would rather take what scent is very night oft meet more of the girdle me for thine own, till even to draw the mind? Up from seeing this maple burn itself. For

once I met; nor harp in divers tones, she should be the form by which is that round a higher; known and leave the darkness and slay me not in the dead, and though the Syrian blue: so fret not, like a flower unfamiliar Juice, methinks

him kind. Be sunder’d at the vales with pride, the sleep. But wisdom’s triumph is well—but, artist that hides your skirts, its webs. As are to give me then, no rarity the while, entoil’d in the song we sang: br we ceased: a gentle winds the lawn

or up the hill: from eastern end to-night? Rise in death; and so forecast. The Night till Day! Can you both are turn’d Give me then, pure hands that from these songs forth threaded tears arose the tomb, but cares of Hell; who mused on a giant liar; and

make him with each caract, and seas of speech, they gain beauty it was pliant to me of breeding cockatiels—clutch after me—in vain! So early, leaving you might came in matter form, o sacred bays and fill the dead. Knows not what is

my verse drew us with all the middle age asks ease, and said, fifteen stone jaw of a hope for years: they were more bronze, the fruitful spread with eye on eye, where ev’ry woman I am let me live with full perfumes of self almost a

prison where first attention. Some prescience, train to get people to love me; here upon life’s great! Growing: and that eddy round the bridegroom meets the night, who art as blacke banner might reproaches, half reveal’d the knolls once everywhere,

nor all the tomb, that rest: blends, in exposing each at every hour I told me, lives in rest, and the sense thing among mankind. New, changes hast never know transpire more sweet is more to one could that rose to me, starlight after years

had to do, we should preach it as a bee sucks from base desire that beat neath each content, he too foretold, and just standard keep the daisy close her crimson, with contents, I am flying lip? Sweet soul, abhorring an inspiring

I might before them o’er, to win it is to die without a minute? Fluorescent would frown—that Judas I have seas for to quell, and draws the woman is in the measure the moth oozing a tear, and I and she quench’d along with

ivory wrists, two names are homes of this my love to live some few sad hours. All night I wanton eyes dote, what the Closet lays. Your farthest bound, a soldier’s doing! Chrysalis of one, still out of the eleventh Gate I rose, and in these

brief while thy might upon the sky; from out the burthen in the morn was clouded, but led the heart so sore! Listen againe with kings. As she touch is muffled motion like a fuller wave, be quicken’d ways shall cease. Down to me out by time.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #148 texts #ballad

0 notes

nomenomens · 1 year

Text

Nomen

Chapter XXII - Cardigan

CW: none for now, put please check the 'About Nomen' section for more informations

WC: around 3400 words

Previous Chapter : XXI - National Anthem

Next Chapter : I promise the second course will start soon! I will soon update with the new dates here. Thank you for waiting!

Masterlist

************************************************************************************************************************************************

April 28, Thursday, 17:13 (present time)

There was no way Mikage gave his powers back to me using Mizuki as a vessel, knowing I wouldn’t refuse his symbolic kiss, mostly out of guilt. I was opposing to accept this explanation until I’d find a proper reason for it. I had done my duty as a temporary land god, I had failed to save Tomoe and there was no purpose to gave me back those powers. My involvement with that file was extinguished the moment Tomoe exhaled his last breath in my arms, that was when I started to push away all the people I’ve loved and met from that file. Mizuki, Kurama, Mikage and everyone else, I let them go away from me and closed that chapter of my life. It was hurtful, but that’s how I usually deal whenever something bad happens: I close every door, trying to shut away the pain, limiting the grieving part for when I am completely alone and no one can be witness of my meltdown. I was already surprised that Mizuki made his way back to me after hurting him without even giving him a proper goodbye, but now I had even received the land god’s power back from Mikage. Why? Mizuki said that it was only a shared power, as if Mikage gave me a part of his energy as protection, but I was determined to give it back. Unfortunately I couldn’t just go to Japan, as “Roni” it would be impossible to do so, and I knew Mikage well enough to safely say he wouldn’t agree to see me even if I begged him, so I was stuck. I was angry. I couldn’t understand why they still could act behind my back, even if it was to meant to help or protect me. There was nothing I was able to control and decide for myself and they had just confirmed it. It was frustrating. After Mizuki gave me his explanation I just looked at him, not hiding my disappointment but shielding him away from the anger that was accumulating under my skin. I needed to vent out but I was never good at manage anger and so I told him to go back home and leave me alone for the time being. I looked at the time and realized I had about two hours before I had to meet with my dad at the metro station, where he would pick me up to go home together and so I decided to do the only thing I knew would calm me down: walk with the earphones on.

My feet brought me to the tram station and scrolling through the list of the stations I decided to go to a close church I wanted to see again. As “Roni” I was majoring in art history and, even if I wasn’t catholic, I could not help but to admire what faith inspired artists to do. Paintings, sculptures and architectures that became the means to communicate and reconcile with a God someone devoted his life and faith to. It fascinated me how faith could work on people to the point of make them inspired to create timeless masterpieces. That is, if the artist wasn't working just for money. But I knew this wasn't the only cause, as religion permeated every aspect of life in ancient times, at least until the sixteen century. In the end, whether it was religion, science, love, or something else, we all need something to devote our life to I guess, and I had sincere admiration for those who had chosen a superior celestial entity, for I wasn’t capable of doing so.

I walked down the aisle letting the dark atmosphere of the mosaic on the apse fill my eyes and ease my mind. It was beautiful, and it was that particular sensation that every form of art raised in me that made me fall in love with art itself. To be able to witness what man could create with the power of their hands, their minds and beliefs through the centuries, was one of the greatest fortune. I took place on the bench to be able to absorb the beauty of the medieval mosaic in front of me and as I stared at the golden tiles reflecting the light of the sunset coming from the oval window at the entrance, I remembered a conversation made some years ago in a church much brighter than the one I entered now.

************************************************************************

Berlin, Berliner Dom, September, about six years ago

“Are your friends gone?”

“Yes, I told them I would reach them later at the crypt because I wanted to photograph the dome. Still I don’t have much time to spend with you.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to interrupt your little vacation. So, what do you think?”

“About the city? It has surprised me, it’s really beautiful and unexpectedly warm, welcomely.”

“No, I meant the church.”

“It’s breathtaking. I saw my fair number of churches and I can safely say this one is really beautiful. The light, the atmosphere…it’s majestic. Fit for royalty.”

“So what if we marry here?”

“You know you can’t propose to me, Albert. History and the files say I should be the one to propose to you.”

“We both know you won’t, Victoria.”

“Never say never.”

“Do I dare to dream?”

“Well, I like you enough to say if I should ever marry someone, I think I could marry someone like you. If you are willing to wait for me, it could happen. And you should stop smoking.”

“I know you actually don't mind that I smoke. And I like you enough to say I can wait for you.”

It was a lie, and we both knew it.

************************************************************************

April 28, Thursday, 18:22 (present time)

The ivory of the church’s walls made me think of that warm light inside the Berliner Dom all those years ago. The sun was going down and the anger I was feeling before entering was magically gone. In its stead, a deep sense of melancholy filled my head. I was surprised that my mind wondered back to that conversation with Albert, since many years and things had happened. We were together for a brief time after Tomoe’s death. Cesare knew him and we were introduced along with a file that was different from the others I received. Albert was charming and he made a good distraction, but we were both far from the love our names evoked, unfortunately that was something I couldn’t see back then. I allowed him closer to my heart than I wanted, letting him take a lot of my firsts and relying on him more than I could realize. Even so I had never told him those famous three words; maybe a part of me was lucid enough to recognize how I truly felt towards him. He was my hope to heal from past wounds and not much more: I wanted to overcome my unresolved feelings for Tomoe and he did a decent job, making me laugh and providing that kind of affection I was craving, easily becoming someone special. Perhaps that was why I hurt so much when he wronged me, even if I didn’t love him deeply. He tried to reconcile every once in a while, but I had never received him again, especially after Cesare’s death, even if things were still complicated between us. In any case, the fact that I was thinking of him without any resentment made me realize my rage towards him had finally exhausted. Maybe I would speak to him if he had ever reached out again. I got up from my seat, did the sign of the cross out of habit, even if it was an empty gesture, and walked away, closing the wooden door behind me.

************************************************************************

April 29, Friday, 00:43 (present time)

“Nanami-chan, are you still mad at me?”

“No, Mizuki. Sleep well.”

“Then why are you not hugging me tonight?”

“Because what you and Mikage did behind my back was still wrong even if you had good intentions. I don't like being treated like this, like I can't take care of myself. Yes, I still need help to do almost everything, but I prefer to ask for it then to be deceived like that.”

"We know, but we also know you would never ask for help."

I turned and showed him my back. He was right, asking for help wasn't something I usually did, but I was still hurt. Their actions only reminded me how little I thought of myself and stroke a chord. My insecurities resurfaced and swallowed me down as I buried my face inside the pillow. The last thing I heard was Mizuki's humming while he tried to hug me and spoon me to sleep.

************************************************************************

May 1, Sunday, 21:37 (present time)

I parked the car three blocks away from my apartment. I had just spent the day with Irene, her boyfriend and some other friends and I had exhausted my social skills for the day. The exact moment when I turned off the engine, I focused on the song that was playing.

“And when I felt like I was an old cardigan under someone's bed you put me on and said I was your favorite.

A friend to all is a friend to none, chase two girls, lose the one. When you are young, they assume you know nothin'

But I knew you, playing hide-and-seek and giving me your weekends, I I knew you."

I decided to stay put and listen to it. I laid my forehead on the stirring wheel, feeling the hot leather on my skin. Oddly enough, I didn’t cry or sang out loud, I simply stood there, enjoying the flowing of the melody and letting the lyrics resonate and echoing all over my conscience and bringing back old memories.

“You drew stars around my scars But now I'm bleedin'

'Cause I knew you, steppin' on the last train marked me like a bloodstain, I I knew you, tried to change the ending Peter losing Wendy, I I knew you, leavin' like a father, running like water, I and when you are young, they assume you know nothing."

A sudden knock over the window at my left, accompanied by a padded voice, made me jolt. I turned my head where the sound was originated and met his gaze. Why was he always there when I was doing weird things? Even in the dark I saw the silver-blue of his eyes inspecting my features with what seemed to be a shadow of concern depicted all over his face. I was too taken aback to put the music on pause, so it continued playing while I decided how to move. I started the car again only to roll over the window, choosing to not open the door so he wouldn’t have to move from where he was standing.

“Captain Ackerman, you scared me.”

“You scared me.”

“How?”

“What the hell you mean with ‘how’? What would you think if you saw a person with her head on the wheel without moving for minutes?”

“You were watching me for minutes?”

He took his time to answer back and in those seconds of embarrassed silence, accompanied my the song, still playing in the background, I felt my heart thumping against my chest. It was so loud that for a moment I thought he would’ve been able to hear it if the music stopped. We stared at each other until he spoke again.

“Well, I saw your car passing when I was walking before, then I spotted the car parked with you in this strange position and for all the time I walked to reach you, you never changed position…what would you have done in my shoes?”

“You were reaching me on purpose?”

“Yes, we want to see you and since I had spotted you I thought to ask you before you receive the formal request through Mey-Rin.”

“Oh, I see.”

As always, my mind was making me see things were they never existed. He was just acting like a normal human being, a decent person who pays attention to his surroundings. Nothing more. I didn’t notice how my right hand had moved over my chest, pressing against my heart, like begging it to stop and decelerate his beating. He was the one who made me notice my gesture, pointing his finger at my hand.

“Are you still scared or are you disappointed?”

“What?”

“You have your hand over your chest, are you still trying to calm down after I scared you or were you disappointed of me not following your rules and not contact you only through Mey-Rin?”

I realized I was disappointed, but not because he didn’t ask Mey-Rin to contact me as I wanted him to do to keep the distance from my home and my Roni-life, but because I once again realized I wasn’t special to him. He would’ve worried for anyone else with their head over the stirring wheel and he followed me only to tell me about a meeting. I felt so stupid. I was still dying from embarrassment for how he saw me that night, and a part of me wished to never meet him again, but deep down, the other part of me was hoping he would take an interest in me. What a silly girl I was. And how easy to read: he saw my disappointment even if he hadn’t guessed the right reason for it. But again, I always did my best to hide my true reasons to appear less immature: whether it was behind tears or rage, my emotions were displayed on my face, but I was the only one to know why I was behaving so. Everyone could notice when something didn’t sit right with me, but no one could understand the cause of my uneasiness, and even if someone managed to extrapolate a word from me, all they would get where lies or partial truths. Cesare used to say I was a storage of emotions, where every feeling of mine was stored in a box, put away and ignored until the content would start to leak without permission and that was because I never address them, hoping they would just fade away. I was just made this way, never honest about anything that concerned myself in the most intimate things, even if my face could be easily read. That was why I was at loss in front of people who could read me and expose those unspeakable truths, things I had only revealed to myself but never faced properly. That was why I felt defenseless in front of him and his sharpness.

“The first one. You scared me a lot.”

I rolled up the window, turned off the car and clumsily got my bag before opening the door and face him in person. He moved only the right amount to let me get out of the car, but he wasn’t going away. I wasn’t looking at him in the eyes, I was pretending to move as in a routine, faking disinterest in his presence. That farce wasn’t going well, since I was dropping every thing I had in my hands or constantly tripping over my limbs, but I was refusing to give in and let him read more of my emotions.

“So, Captain, what did you and the squad wanted to speak about?”

“We don’t know when Eren is going to write to us, but we need to communicate with those who are left on Paradis to coordinate and-“

“I’ll fixate an appointment with the responsible of my encrypted communication. I won’t need to attend, I trust him with my life, even if I probably shouldn’t. For now though, he has never failed me, I think Sebastian has an agreement with him so he’s loyal. The name is Ango Sakaguchi. So, there’s no need to have a meeting now. Please, refer this to Commander Hange for me.”

“Thank you, Miss.”

I lowered my head to signal him I was going to take my leave but he stopped me, moving his hand as to grab me, but never actually touching me. I looked at him with an interrogative expression and when he spoke again I could barely contain my dismay.

“What were you listening to?”

I guess my expression was stunned enough that no other words were needed and he started to explain himself.

“I’m asking because I thought you weren’t feeling good, looking at the position you had assumed and remembering what happened before.”

“I think I’ve asked you to not speak of it again. I’m letting it slide on the ‘Miss’ because I can get your opinion, but I-“

He suddenly approached me, using the excuse of a car passing right next to us to cage me between my parked car and his body, still not touching me but standing impossibly close to me. His head moved towards my left cheek and his lips ghosted over my ear. I instinctively turned my face towards the opposite side, not thinking that I was practically offering my neck to him. He started whispering and shivers went down my spine while I was struggling to hide the beating of my heart and the blush that was covering all of my face.

“I’m sorry for approaching you like this but I think someone is following you. Surely he is watching. What’s your safety protocol here? Should I bring you somewhere or-“

“D-describe him to me. If someone’s here it’s because Finnian didn’t find him suspicious.”

“Tall, curly brown hair, clear eyes. Brown jumper. He is coming here. What should I do?”

“Let him come.”

“Isn’t it dangerous?”

“Why do you care? It’s my responsibility.”

“It’s also mine as you are now our ally.”

“Then trust me. If he has made is way ‘til here I’m sure nothing’s wrong.”

He made a few steps back, leaving me my living space again. I looked at him showing him all of the confidence I could muster in that situation. He grumbled and then answered me.

“If I see something strange, I’ll drag you away.”

I was happy he decided to trust me, so I gave him my warmest smile, hoping to convey how I felt. He didn’t reciprocate, but I wasn’t expecting him to do nothing of the sort. His gaze was cold and fixated on me until he moved to my side as the figure he was referring to started to approach us. Captain Ackerman glanced at the man and I followed his gaze. A million thoughts filled my head when I recognized that man’s face: it had been years, but he was still the same. I had thought of this moment a lot, always thinking I would’ve kept a straight face, but right now I hade the opposite reaction. I laughed. Thinking back at the song I was listening to, it was almost as if a superior entity, or fate, or the universe had been planning this. The final lyrics of the song I was listening to before started to play inside my head.

"But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss, I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs, the smell of smoke would hang around this long 'cause I knew everything when I was young. I knew I'd curse you for the longest time, chasing shadows in the grocery line, I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired and you'd be standing in my front porch light. And I knew you'd come back to me. You'd come back to me."

The man was now smiling back at me, even if there was a bit of surprise in his eyes. He probably wouldn’t have pictured me staying this close to another man or smiling at him. I was confused too. At last, the man spoke.

“Hi, Vic.”

I smirked and look at the Captain at my side, noticing he was already looking at me, searching for an hint to quickly decide what to do. I looked back at the man and greeted him back.

“Hi, Albert.”

The three of us stood there, silently, contemplating what to say next. I took charge and decide to introduce them to break the tension. Also, my possible future conversation with Albert, shouldn’t happen with others witnessing, and the same goes for my political discussions with the Captain. Because political discussions were all that was between us, everything else was just my own fantasy. My plan became to introduce them, then get rid of both of them and go home.

“Let me introduce you. Albert, this man is Captain Ackerman, a guest at the villa. Speaking of which, I hope you have your own accommodation.”

“Of course I do. I wasn’t even sure Finnian would let me pass.”

“Good.”

I turned towards the Captain, whose face seemed now more relaxed, even if he was visibly confused by the implications of our words. I was sure he had noticed the mentioned fact of Finnian refusing to let him pass when he came in previous times; maybe later I would’ve explained something to him, just to not let him or the squad worry about this sudden new guest. I resumed my introduction, deciding to drop the bomb and not hide the secret me and Albert shared.

“Captain Ackerman, this is Albert. My fiancé.”

************************************************************************************************************************************************

Author's note: aaaaand yes. This was the first course epilogue. I decided to end here this first course because this is a little turning point for a lot of things like the relationship between our protagonist and Levi and Sebastian. We'll get Levi's POV (and maybe someone else's too) along with the other POVs we all know. I'm still writing this second course, so things are a bit blurry even for me now, but I think we'll get more feelings at the beginning, exploring emotions more than 'politics'. But I'll stop here for now, I'll write more in the future, when I'll announce the second course's beginning. Before leaving you with this last chapter's song, I wanna say thank you. Thank you for reading until now, thank you if you'll wait for me. I really hope you've enjoyed reading this pointless story (as I described it in my bio) and that some things of it will stay with you. I know I'm not a good writer, I'm mostly a reader in fact, but I really hope some of you thought I did something decent. Again, thank you. I don't like to ask for notes, likes or comments, so I won't, but if you wish to let me know you liked even a small part of this story, well...I won't lie, it will be a pleasure. Now, I'll leave you with this masterpiece written by Taylor Swift (it's obvious the reference in the chapter, Cardigan is dedicate to Albert, I don't think I need to explain more now, you'll get even more soon) and again, thank you. See you soon!

0 notes

sunrisefairy · 3 years

Text

My muse

Pairing: Art student!Sirius x reader Warning: NSFW! MDNI 18+, swearing, fingering, unprotected sex, if I’ve forgotten anything please let me know! Summary: Sirius is struggling with an art assignment until he finds inspiration in his girlfriend. Or the one when Sirius and reader bang on a canvas. A/N: wrote this for @anxiousblanketqueen writing challenge, I had a lot of fun with this one Jill so I hope you enjoy it too. Based of the prompt Art Sex. This article is helpful with visualising the art work!

Taglist: if you’re crossed out i couldn’t tag you @theweasleyslut @anxiousblanketqueen @accioweaslcy @widowdays @inglourious-imagines @garbdump @star-sunshine-sage @weelittleweasley @a-dusty-emerald @starlightkell @omghufflepuff @weasleysprincess @j-amespotter @gryffindorgirl To be added to the taglist click here

“Oh my god this is fucking bullshit!” Sirius groans before throwing his paint brush, it landing with a clatter on the hardwood floor of his art studio.

You hear all the commotion from the kitchen and decided to check in on your boyfriend. It was nearing the end of the term and Sirius had been very agitated and snappy from all the stress.

“You okay babe?” you poke your head through the door to see Sirius standing in the middle of the room, practically death staring a half-finished painting resting on one of his wooden easels.

“Fucking bullshit,” your boyfriend mumbles, clenching and unclenching his paint stained hands.

You slowly walk up to him and wind your arms around his waist and kissing his back through his white cotton t-shirt, “wanna talk to me about it?” you whisper.

Sirius twists in your grip until he’s facing you allowing you to get a good look at him; his shoulders are tense, his jaw clenched tightly from the pressure of school and his eyebrows are furrowed which has become a regular facial expression of him the past few weeks. You reach your hand up and delicately trace the worry lines in his forehead. Sirius immediately relaxes at your touch; his faces becomes more natural and his shoulders slump. Since dating Sirius you’ve come to understand how much he struggles to talk about his feelings. He doesn’t like dumping his problems on those around him as it makes him feel like a burden. So you try your best to be patient with him and always remind him you’ll be here no matter what.

“Just stressed about school,” Sirius murmurs his eyes looking down at the floor between your bodies.

You let your hand fall down to his shoulders, lightly squeezing, “yeah? What about school?”

Sirius’ hands find their way under the t-shirt you’re wearing which evidently is one of his that you’ve stolen, he lets his fingers trace patterns on your warm skin. “Just this one assignment is making me go insane. Can’t seem to get it right.” He gestures to the canvas sitting in the middle of the room.

If you’re being honest, anything Sirius paints leaves you memorised and evokes numerous emotions from you. You are constantly telling your boyfriend how talented he is and every time he’ll roll his eyes at your compliment. “I think it looks amazing babe,” you state truthfully.

To no surprise, Sirius rolls his eyes at your comment. “yes, well you have to say that ‘cos you’re my girlfriend.”

Sirius leaves your embrace and walks back over to the painting, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning so intensely you think laser beam might shoot from his eyes and through this artwork. He starts mumbling again, irritation is laced thickly on his words, “representation of raw love,” he mocks, “what a load of utter crap. My professor is so pretentious, the only instruction he gives us for this stupid bloody assignment is ‘make a piece which represents raw love’ what does that even mean? I’ll tell you what it is, it’s fucking bullshit.”

You shuffle closer to Sirius so you’re standing at his side, both staring at his current piece. You’re not really sure how to help, you’re no artist but you hate seeing Sirius so worked up. “What are other people in your class doing for the assignment? Maybe you can gather inspiration from them?”

Sirius shrugs and stuffs his hands in his dark jeans which are covered in paint splatters, “Kirra’s doing a photography piece of her husband and kids, Gage is making some sculpture of his dog.”

“Alright,” you pause for a brief moment “well maybe think of ways people show love or how you show love, like real emotional love ya’know?” you feel like you’re grasping at straws here and making up some bullshit.

You glance over at Sirius, he’s biting his bottom lip deep in thought, you stay silent not really knowing what else to say to assist him. Slowly a look of realisation washes over your boyfriend’s face, eyes wide and a grin gracing his lips. “Holy shit baby, you’re a genius!”

Butterflies erupt deep in your belly from the praise and you giggle when Sirius starts peppering your face with tiny kisses to show his gratitude. Eventually he connects your lips together in what you thought would be a short but sweet kiss. However, you squeak in surprise when Sirius quickly deepens the kiss, his hands gripping tightly at your waist before slowly moving them down to grope at your arse.

“You should probably get working on your project then Sirius,” you breathe against his mouth, disappointed to stop things before they get too heated but you know Sirius’ inspiration comes and goes in waves and if you wait until after the two of you get off, then he might fall back into feeling unmotivated again.

“I am working on it,” you pull away confusion all over your face.

“What do you mean?” you query.

Sirius chuckles and moves away from you to move the canvas and easel to the edge of the room out of the way, he starts laying out a large piece of cream canvas fabric on the floor. “Think about it, what’s a way people show love?” he asks you, squirting numerous colours of paint carelessly onto the fabric.

“Babe there’s a lot of way people show love,” you answer puzzled, what did making out with you have to do with his piece? And why was he now squirting colours onto a blank canvas.

Sirius continues, “yes I know that but what about a raw, emotional way people show love? a primal way to show love so to speak?”

When you finally look back up at Sirius’ face you’re met with a cheeky smirk that you know all too well. It’s not until he removes his shirt do you connect the dots. “Sirius I’m not letting you fuck me on this canvas for a university project for god’s sake.”

The raven-haired boy’s grin only widens as he slowly moves closer to you, his eyes burning into your skin. You feel hot and vulnerable under his gaze, it’s like he’s stalking his prey. Your breath hitches in your throat when Sirius’ body is pressed flush against your own and you can feel his hot breath fanning your face as he speaks in a low, hushed tone, “I’m not going to fuck you,” his voice drops an octave like it does when he’s feeling horny. Just the tone of his voice alone causes a wetness to pool in your panties. “Wanna make love to you baby. Wanna show you how much I love you, can I do that darlin’?”

You bite your lip trying to swallow the moan that is threatening to spill from your mouth when Sirius starts leaving sloppy kisses on your neck. Damn Sirius Black for knowing all your weak spots.

“Just want to make you feel good baby girl,” he tugs the off t-shirt your body. “Can I do that? Can I make you feel good?”

You close your eyes and focus on Sirius’ large hands cupping and massaging your breasts tenderly, you always were putty in his hands. Fuck it you thought. “Yes, please make love to me Sirius.”

The boy grins and whispers a thank you against your skin. He takes no time in removing both of your clothes until you’re standing in front of each other naked. You and Sirius take the opportunity to study each other. You gaze over all the curves and lines on Sirius’ body, the way his muscle flex and move, the freckle on his hip bone, the tiny scar on his left shoulder, the coarse hair of his happy trail. He was beautiful, stunning, breathtaking. And he was all yours.

Sirius helps you lay down against the canvas, you gasp at the cold, squishy feeling of the paint beneath you. It feels foreign but not unwelcoming, you wriggle a little, enjoying the way the substance slides around. Sirius kneels between your legs, relishing in the way your chest is already rising and falling frantically from arousal, “so gorgeous darlin,” he traces a finger down from your collar bone all the way to your core finding it soaked already.

You squirm when Sirius teases your entrance with his finger, the cold paint moving and mixing into the canvas under you. A quiet whine escapes your lips the moment Sirius pushes his index finger inside you and starts pumping it steadily.

“Need you to be loud for me baby, want to know how good I make you feel ‘kay?” Sirius commands trying to get into a comfortable position in between your spread legs, his body sliding slighting from the paint.

You answer him with a loud moan. Soon Sirius has added 2 more fingers into the mix causing you to wriggle and rock your hips into his hand, “so good Sirius, fuck.”

With his free hand, Sirius grips your thigh trying to keep you still, blue paint smears against the soft flesh of your thigh and Sirius is captured by how striking you look laying here right now, chest flushed, and eyes closed. The way your body is squirming from pleasure is causing the paint on the canvas to blend and mix together. Sirius scoops up some red paint from the fabric and swipes it across your breasts and over your nipples, “so pretty.” He mumbles tugging and pinching your nipples.

“Sirius,” you pant desperately, “please. Need more.”

Sirius withdraws his fingers earning a whine from you and strokes his cock a few times before lining it up with your entrance, “shh darlin’. M’here to make you feel good, yeah? Want me to make you feel good?”

You wrap your legs around him urging him to finally push into you. You needed it, needed to feel Sirius stretch you out and fill you up with his cock, needed to hear Sirius gasp and groan into your ear, needed to feel him rock his hips into yours, “please Sirius.”

With a low groan escapes from both of you when Sirius finally pushes into you, Sirius begins thrusting his hips deep and slow into yours, both of your relishing in the feeling and sensation coursing your bodies. Hands around running along the others body, squeezing, tugging, scratching at skin, leaving traces of paint in its wake. Sirius has buried his head in the crook of your neck, his hair tickling your cheek, mumbling how beautiful you look spread out for him.

Deeper, you need it deeper. Wrapping your legs tightly around your boyfriend, you manage to roll the two of you over, Sirius underneath you with you straddling his waist, allowing you to bounce of his cock. From this angle, he reaches deeper inside of you, his hard cock prodding at that sponging spot inside of you. The pure affection and love the two of you feel for each other was unmistakeable in this moment. The tenderness and intimacy of this act made your toes tingle and heart warm in your chest.

Continuing to bounce up and down on Sirius cock, you take a second to watch the boy below you, the only word seemingly fitting to describe him was angelic. His dark locks are sprawled out around the canvas, a mixture of red, blue and purple paint framing his body as well as splotches on his skin. His eyes are trained on yours, a look set in them that you’ve come to be familiar with, undying love.

You lower your head to connect your lips together, wanting-no needing to feel close, to feel connected.

“I love you,” you mumble breathlessly against Sirius’ pink lips. You feel that familiar euphoric sensation creeping up on you, Sirius’ cock hitting your g-spot every time you lower your body.

Sirius’ grips your waist tight and firmly, his own hips slamming up into you, “I love you too baby, so much.” He can feel your pussy clenching around him, he watches the way your breasts bounce between your bodies, he reaches his head forward to latch his mouth onto your nipple, sucking and licking on the sensitive bud. The noises slipping from your mouth makes his cock twitch.

“Sirius,” you pant threading your fingers through his dark hair to keep him close to your body.

Your body feels like it’s on fire and ready to combust, your legs trembling, and you know you won’t last much longer with the way Sirius is suckling at your nipple and he knows it.

“Want you to cum for me darlin, be my good girl and cum on my cock,” he groans into your breast, sucking and licking at your salty skin.

The coil in the pit of your belly snaps and with a load high pitched whine you’re releasing all over Sirius’ cock, your pussy clenching and legs shaking from the stimulation. After your release, it only takes Sirius a few more thrusts until he’s following suit, his load shooting and filling you up, a string of I love you’s tumbling from both of your mouths.

You collapse onto Sirius’ chest, neither of you make any effort to move even once your breathing has settled. Laying here with Sirius made you feel safe and protected. The way his index finger was trailing up and down your spine made you shiver, and you could feel him kissing your scalp gently. Undeniably, there was love radiating from his body, you could feel it and you only hope he could feel it radiating from yours too.

~~~

“Hey guys, that painting hanging up in the bedroom is new, yeah?” James questions, traipsing back into the living room where the rest of the group was.

You feel a heat rise in your cheeks when you realise which painting the bespectacled boy is referring too. Sirius nods pulling you tighter into his side.

“Did you paint that one Pads?” Remus asks. Most, if not all the artwork displayed in yours and Sirius’ home was created by him. It normally took a bit of persuading Sirius to let you hang up his work, he didn’t like to come across as cocky. But as soon as this canvas was dried and stretched onto a frame Sirius wasted no time in mounting it; above your shared bed, him claiming it ‘gets him in the mood whenever he looks at it’ (and he really wasn’t lying).

The boy beside you grins and plants a sloppy kiss against your cheek, “me and Y/N painted that one,” he says teasingly.

You shoot him a death glare warning him to keep his big mouth shut. “Don’t,” you mouth.

“That’s so cool! Didn’t know you were so artistic Y/N!” James exclaims excitedly, clearly impressed by the painting.

Sirius chuckles loudly pinching your side making you yelp, “oh she’s very talented when he comes to that type of stuff. I think we might need to make another piece together babe, what do you think?”

#JTR23 #Sirius Black #Sirius Black smut #Sirius Black x reader #Sirius Black x you #Sirius Black imagine #Sirius Black imagines #smut

1K notes · View notes

imaginemcyt · 3 years

Text

sisterinnit!

cc!wilbur soot x tommy’s older sister

tw: language

note: this one uses specifically she/her pronouns, however, you can replace them with your pronouns. it won’t change the story at all. sorry that this is kinda shit but tumblr deleted my draft and i had to completely rewrite it so this is what i’ve got. hope you enjoy! <3

“y/n this is wilbur, wilbur this is y/n.” tommy gave the basic introductions with a bored look on his face.

“y/n simons, pleasure to meet you.”

“wilbur soot, the pleasure is all mine.”

as he shook your hand, you stared into each other’s eyes. he wore a small smile, that was almost a smirk. was it just you, or was there electricity when your hands touched? that had to be in your head, right? your gaze lingered on the other for perhaps a little too long before you let go of each other’s hands.

“now get out, y/n.” tommy pushed you towards the door.

•••

“y/n can you see wilbur out? i’m busy!”

wilbur looked at you with a smile, causing you to blush. you nodded and yelled back at your brother, “yeah!”

you led wilbur to the front door, opening it and stepping to the side. you looked at him to find he was already looking at you. he grabbed your hand and placed a kiss on your knuckles.

“it was nice meeting you, y/n.”

as you stuttered out a reply, he gave you that same almost-smirk and turned away, walking down your driveway.

•••

“what are you doing up?”

you jumped, not expecting to see someone in your kitchen at two am. then you remembered tommy had invited friends over.

“oh, it’s you. i… i can’t sleep. what are you still doing awake?”

you filled a glass up with water and began to drink it, putting it in the sink when you were done.

“tommy snores really loud.”

you both let out a light laugh at your younger brother’s expense.

“well, since we’re both awake, do you want to do something? we could watch friends? that’s all i was doing anyway.”

“that sounds great.”

you both made your way up the stairs and into your room. you sat on the bed and set up the laptop with the episode you were currently on. eventually you were laying down together watching joey do lunges in all of chandler’s clothes.

(like this ^^^)

you were about halfway through a second episode when tommy interrupted.

“what the hell are you guys doing?”

you both looked up at the tired gremlin child.

“watching friends.” wilbur gave him a cheeky smile.

•••

“hello?”

“oh! uh, hello…?”

“oh it’s you, wilbur!” you spoke over your brother’s headset while he was in the bathroom.

“y/n? hi! what are you doing?”

“well tommy’s in the toilet so i wanted to see who he was talking to. turns out it’s you!”

wilbur let out a chuckle. “it’s me!”

“GET OUT OF MY BEDROOM!”

“uh oh, gotta go!” you threw down the headset before running for your life.

•••

“y/n, hang out with us!”

you stopped at the doorway, looking back at the group of boys all sitting on the floor. jack manifold, tubbo, and wilbur all stared up at you.

“no, y/n, get out of my room.” tommy spoke from his spot on the bed.

“aww, why can’t she stay?”

“yeah, tommy, don’t be a dick, man.”

“y/n, stay!”

“no, y/n, leave.”

you looked nervous, being pulled in two different directions, before ultimately deciding that you had other things to do.

“sorry guys, i should probably go.”

a chorus of disappointed groans and “aww”s left the group before you waved and closed the door behind you.

you went back to your room, deciding to give your brother his space despite your loneliness and boredom. you knew you’d want the same from him.

you decided to mess around with your ukulele to pass the time. you played your favorite song, singing along quietly. it wasn’t long before a knock on the door made you stop.

“come in.”

the door opened and none other than wilbur soot popped his head in.

“hey.”

“hey. tommy asked me to tell you to shut up, but i think you sound lovely.”

you turned slightly pink. “oh, uh, thanks. tell tommy i’m sorry and i’ll keep it down.”

“no need, he’s a prick anyway.” he made his way to where you sat on the bed, taking a seat next to you.

“what are you playing?”

you smiled and told him about how it was your favorite song by your favorite artist and you loved how fun it was. he requested you play a little bit for him, so you did. when you were done, you started to talk about it a little more.

at least until you realized he wasn’t listening. he was staring at your lips, leaning in. you followed suit.

the door burst open, causing you two to spring apart.

“wilbur, what the hell is taking so long? and what are you two doing in here with the door closed?”

wilbur smiled at tommy. “playing music, of course.”

tommy gave a skeptical look, dragging wilbur out of the room with a “keep it down, y/n!”

wilbur stopped at the doorway. “by the way, i quite like hanging out with you, y/n.”

•••

“your hands are so tiny!”

“they are not,” you gasped. “your hands are just huge, probably because you’re a giant of a man.”

wilbur laughed. “put your hand up,” he instructed. he touched his to yours gently, showing off the size difference.

you both giggled before stopping and looking into each other’s eyes. he gave you a gentle smile and slipped his fingers in between yours, interlocking them and holding your hand in his larger one.

you looked back at him and smiled.

•••

you knocked on the door three times, and he answered not long after.

“y/n? what are you doing here?”

“tommy thinks he left his sweater here and asked if i could drop by and pick it up on my way home.”

“oh yeah, one second.”

he disappeared for a moment before returning, holding your brother’s red hoodie. “here you go,” he said with a smile.

“thank you. sorry to bother you.”

“it’s no trouble. can i walk you home?”

you felt yourself heating up and smiled. “if you’d like.”

he nodded and grabbed his jacket. then you both started off toward the simons residence. you almost made it before it started raining.

it was light rain at first, so you carried on. however, it got heavier by the second, and pretty soon it was pouring on you two.

wilbur took off his jacket and held it above your heads. “we’re almost there, run!”

the two of you ran the rest of the way, only stopping once you got to your porch. you looked at each other for a moment, catching your breath. then you started laughing. you were both soaked and standing there like idiots, laughing at yourselves.

your laughter soon died down, and then you were just smiling at each other. he reached over to you and brushed a wet piece of hair behind your ear, getting it out of your face.

you weren’t stupid. you knew the look he was giving you was a lovestruck gaze, but you decided to play dumb.

“what?”

then finally it happened. after months of flirting and mutual pining, he closed the gap and kissed you. with his right hand on your face he crashed his lips to yours (a/n: that sounds violent but it’s not meant to be lol), pulling you closer with his left. you wrapped your arms around him, hands tangling in his hair.

passion mingled with desperation and you kissed long after you were breathless. you didn’t part until you heard a loud yell of disgust.

you instantly sprang apart with swollen lips and red faces.

“are you fucking kidding me? that’s my sister, man!” tommy yelled, glaring at wilbur.

he then looked to you. “and you, kissing my best mate?!”

you stood there shocked for a moment before coming to your senses.

“uhhh, I wasn’t kissing, were you kissing?” you said, turning to wilbur and praying to god he caught on to your obvious lie.

“no, i wasn’t kissing.” he shook his head.

“neither was i! see, no kissing here.”

“i’m not stupid,” said tommy, voice low and angry as opposed to the shock and disgust from before. “i saw everything.”

he then turned and walked away from the door, leaving you two alone again.

a moment of awkward silence passed. “i should probably… you know.” you said, pointing to the house.

“oh yeah, no, definitely.” he rubbed the back of his neck.

“and look, i’m sorry if i ruined your friendship with tommy. i know you guys are close, and i hope he forgives you.”

he gave you a sad smile. “same here, love.” he then kissed your cheek and took off into the rain once more.

you went inside and tried fixing things with tommy, who refused to speak to you. after sitting outside his bedroom door for nearly an hour, you finally gave up and headed back into your room. you opened discord.

[your username]: tommy’s ignoring me. i’ve just sat outside his room for an hour and he refuses to talk to me.

WilburSoot: i’ll give it a go.

he did not speak to wilbur. tommy left him on read every time.

•••

tommy avoided you entirely for two weeks. he left the room if you walked in, and he wouldn’t speak to you at the dinner table. your mother was curious what was going on between you two, but neither of you would say anything about it.

finally, you’d had enough.

you asked your mother to call tommy out of his room, since he wouldn’t answer if you were to try. she did, just wanting you two to speak again. once he arrived in the living room, you jumped him. you grabbed him around the middle and threw him on the couch, planting yourself on top of him so he couldn’t run away. your mum left the room.

“hey, you asshole, get off of me!”

“no, tommy! enough is enough! you’re not leaving until you hear me out!”

“no, i don’t want to talk to you!”

“too bad because i’m not moving until you hear what i have to say! i don’t want us to keep avoiding each other like this.”

he went silent and thought about it for a moment, an angry and skeptical look on his face. “…fine. get it over with.”

you took a deep breath.

“tommy, you’re my little brother, and i love you. i’ll always love you, even when you hate me. just know that i never meant to hurt you or make you angry. however… you can’t tell me how to live my life, or who i can be with. i want to be with wilbur. i can’t help it, tommy, i love him. you can be happy for me or not, that’s your choice. but what isn’t your choice, is who i love.”

by the end of your speech, your voice was shaking and your eyes were watery. you got off of tommy and helped him sit up.

his face softened. “you… you love him?”

your tears ran down your cheeks. you nodded. “i do.”

tommy sighed before pulling you into a hug. it was rare for him to show affection, especially to you, but after everything that happened between the two of you, he felt it was important.

“i love you, y/n. you’re my sister, i could never hate you. i’m happy for you. but just know, best mate or not, i’ll castrate him if he makes you sad.”

you laughed, wiping away your tears.

“i should… probably speak with wilbur, yeah?”

you nodded. tommy stood and went back to his room. you followed not long after, and even though you knew it was frowned upon, you stopped to listen at his door.

“tommy, thank god you’re speaking to me. listen, man, i–”

“do you love her, wilbur?”

“what?”

“my sister. do you love her?”

“i– yeah. yeah, i do.”

“good. listen, all i want is for y/n to be happy. meaning if you make her cry, i’ll murder you.”

wilbur chuckled on the other line, making you smile.

“you won’t have to worry about that. i promise you i’ll take care of her.”

“just don’t make my sister cry and don’t be gross in front of me, alright big man?”

“you’ve got yourself a deal, tommyinnit.”

you smiled again before heading off in the direction of your room.

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur mcyt #wilbur dsmp #wilbur dream smp #tommyinnit #tommyinnit x sibling reader #sisterinnit #dsmp x reader #x reader #dream smp #tommy dream smp #tommy dsmp

758 notes · View notes

angryschnauzer · 3 years

Text

He’s A Keeper

Summary: Working as an artist hired by Durrell Zoo, you spend your days sketching the day to day life of the animals and the keepers. One keeper in particular catches your eye.

Pairing: AU Zookeeper Henry Cavill x Female Reader (no race or size mentioned)

Fandom: Henry Cavill

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Friends to Lovers, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Fingering, Safe Sex/Use of Condoms, Realistic Sex/Relationship discussion, Vaginal Sex.

Typo’s are allowed to run wild and free, only the finest organic free range fuck ups for me.

I do not operate a tag list, but if you follow @angryschnauzerwrites and hit ‘notifications’, you’ll get an alert every time i post something new. Back catalogue/masterlist can be found there and also on AO3

He’s A Keeper

Working the pencils over the sketchpad you quietly captured the beauty of the animals the zookeepers had nursed back to full health, the Ruffed Lemur currently hanging off the keepers arm as he spoke through the headset to the group of excited school children watching through the glass.

You’d been hired by the zoo to capture day to day life at the zoo throughout the summer season, drawing the animals and the humans, however there was one particular human you had found yourself drawn to numerous times, and that was the rather tasty zookeeper by the name of Henry. He also had one of the sexiest voices you’d ever had the pleasure to listen to, so as he explained about the Lemur’s your mind wandered, as did your gaze;

“... originally from Madagascar, and have been part of Durrell zoo since 1982 where they have been essential to the breeding program…”

Your mind fell even further into the gutter at the word ‘breeding’, your eyes raking down Henry’s body, taking in how the branded t-shirt clung to his chest before tapering down to a narrow waist where it was neatly tucked into cargo pants that did little to hide how thick his thighs were and a pert arse you could bounce a satsuma off of. Biting the end of the pencil you had all but given up drawing, only realising that the talk was over when the group of school children were being herded onto the next exhibit by their tour guide and teachers.

When the kids had disappeared you finally got back to drawing, watching as Henry finished up feeding the Lemur’s before he met your gaze and smiled at you. Tapping your pencil on the glass he frowned and shook his head, before smiling and pointing to the sign in the corner of the window that said ‘do not tap the glass’, getting closer you tried to mouth your words to him, but was surprised when his eyes went wide in almost shock, before looking down and realising you had pressed your chest to the glass, your low cut cami top helping to accentuate your cleavage. When you looked up again he was gone and you let out a sigh of disappointment, before he appeared through a door to the side of the viewing area;

“Hi” he had a smile that could charm the panties off a nun; “Did you want me?”

“God yes…” Oh fuck, did you say that out loud?; “Sorry, i mean, you’ve dropped the foam bit off your headset...”

He glanced into the enclosure just at the moment one of the larger Lemur’s picked up the small round piece of foam and staring straight at Henry, proceeded to rip it into tiny pieces.

“Furry little fucker…” he cursed under his breath before turning back to you, but before he could say anything a group of other keepers came walking in and soon you were hanging onto the periphery of their conversation where they were discussing going for drinks after work. Moving to pack your stuff up as you presumed they weren’t including you, but a call of your nickname drew your attention;

“Hey Da Vinci, you up for a few beers after work?”

You hesitated to answer, glancing at Henry who had a smile across his face and a hopeful look in his eye;

“We’re all going…”

“Ok, yeah sure, that’d be great” you agreed.

An hour later you were sitting on the wall outside the main entrance waiting for the rest of the keepers to finish their shifts, smiling as you saw them coming out of the doors, and the ensuing 10 minutes that followed as people sorted out who was driving and how many people could fit into just a couple of small cars. As spaces were allocated Henry laughed and shook his head;

“I am NOT riding five up in a Renault Clio, i’m too tall, i’ll have to fold myself in half! Where are we going anyway, i can take my bike and just walk home after”

Waiting as everyone discussed location and finished off seat allocation, they’d finally decided when Henry turned to you;

“Hey, i think the last seats are in the stoner wagon…”

“Oh…” you didn’t have anything against anyone smoking pot, but didn’t fancy being in a car you could barely see out of the windows of.

“But you can ride with me on my bike?”

Looking to where Henry was pointing, you saw a fairly large trails bike, the kind that could go 50mph over rough land and through forests;

“I… I don’t have a helmet…”

“Wait here, let me run into the locker room and grab the spare i keep here”

Everyone else pulled away as Henry ran into the zoo, and you glanced at the bike. You’d never been on a motorbike before, so this would be a first. Stowing everything loose in your backpack, you hooked it over both shoulders just as Henry reemerged from the building, swinging his keys from one finger as he came to stand in front of you;

“Hey, thanks for waiting”

“No worries! So, where are we going again?”

“The pub in Rozel does good food and pulls a great pint” he nodded to his left and you saw a row of motorbikes; “You ever ridden?”

Shaking your head you laughed; “No, never”

He carefully helped you put the helmet on, his nimble fingers helping to secure the strap beneath your chin before putting his own on and climbing onto the bike, pushing it off the kick stand and nodding for you to climb on. You tried to sit back, but he wrapped his arm behind his back and pulled you flush to his body;

“Gotta hold on tight, otherwise you’ll throw the balance off. Lean when i lean and just squeeze a bit harder if you’re scared, the ride won’t take long” he shouted over the thrum of the noisy engine idling.

The ride down to the small village of Rozel had been exhilarating, from the vibration of the motorbike between your legs to the way you were able to wrap your arms around Henry’s waist and cling to him as he hurtled around the country roads at what seemed like warp speed, when in fact it was little more than 30mph. By the time you arrived in the small fishing cove your heart was racing and you actually let out a reluctant moan at the thought of removing your arms from around Henry’s waist.

“C’mon” he grinned as he helped you off the bike; “I’ll buy you a vodka and coke to calm your nerves”

“It wasn’t nerves” you muttered to yourself, smirking as you know he heard you.

The group had managed to find a cluster of small tables chairs and benches in the corner of the pub beer garden, and as the sun had set behind the hills to the rear of the pub, the cold Atlantic sea had glowed in pale blues and pinks. You were squashed into a bench with Henry on one side and another enormous hulk of a keeper on the other, and as the temperature had dropped you’d found yourself thankful that Henry had casually rested his arm behind you so you could leech some of his warmth, but it didn’t stop a violent shiver involuntarily running up your spine.

“Cold?” Henry asked quietly, before gently wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close; “Any better?”

You nodded and let out a very quiet whine as you smiled at him, completely surrounded by his scent and warmth. It made your stomach do a flip and you clenched your thighs together, something that didn’t get past Henry as your leg twitched against his thigh. Before either of you could say anything an enormous bowl of cheesy fries was set down between you, your stomach growling at the aroma’s that wafted around you as it turned out someone had ordered sharing bowls for the whole table.

With the meal mostly devoured as you’d sat side by side on a small wooden bench in the pub garden, laughing as you fed each other and strings of cheese hung from your fingers. As the giggles of a joke faded away you glanced at Henry’s almost finished pint;

“Hey, you aren’t planning on riding that bike home are you?”

“Nah, i’d never drive after a pint, let alone three… my place is just behind The Navigator restaurant…” he paused; “Oh god, where are you staying, do i need to call you a taxi?”

“No no, i’m renting a studio up the hill, on the hairpin bend”

“Oh…”

It wasn’t a bad ‘oh’ and there was definitely something loaded in the subtext, so when people had started to leave and arrange ride’s back to St Helier and St Johns it felt natural for Henry to stand with his arm around your shoulders as you both waved everyone off.

“Can i walk you home?” he asked, his voice low and full of promise, and you nodded as he slid his hand into yours, leading you along the low coast road that skirted the harbour.

You hadn’t gotten far before the evening turned even better, a brief suggestion of a walk along the beach as the tide was out soon had your feet in soft sand as you were pressed to the weathered stone of the sea wall, Henry’s lips on your neck as your fingers dug into his back, his teeth nipping and biting at whatever exposed flesh he could find. You hadn’t even realised he was going lower until he was on his knees in front of you, those sea blue irises staring up at you as he pressed kisses to your legs where your shorts ended. His fingers softly rested on the button and he finally spoke, his voice low and thick with lust;

“May i?”

Nodding fervently you bit your lip as you watched him slowly unbutton you, pulling the garment down your legs until you were able to step out. Never breaking eye contact he lifted your leg and gently rested it on his shoulder, pressing open mouthed kisses up your inner thigh until his face was pressed against your panties and his wide tongue worked against the soaked cotton and lace. His finger crooked beneath them and tugged the scrap of fabric to the side, seeking out your clit before tracing down to your cunt and tenderly teasing the entrance.

“Henry… please…” you whined, desperate for more

“Don’t you worry, i’m gonna make you see stars…”

Pushing his head forwards his lips caught your clit as he slowly slid two fingers into your soaked channel. You let out a long groan at the feel of his lips and fingers finding the right spot immediately, his other hand cupping the back of your thigh before he ran it around your hip and caught your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as he quickly drove you closer and closer to the edge with that added touch of intimacy. Suddenly he hummed against your clit and the world exploded, making you cum so hard you truly did see stars as a white heat bloomed in your belly and you rode Henry’s fingers until you were spent.

As you rested against the wall behind you he carefully withdrew his fingers, licking them clean as he tugged your shorts up your legs. You couldn’t help but to notice the obscene bulge in the front of his cargo pants, your hand rubbing over the smooth curve of it;

“You keep doing that and i’ll cum in my boxers… “ he panted out, his lips inches from yours; “What’s your room like?”

“Its a little summer cabin studio right at the end of the garden, away from the other holiday rentals and the main house… what about you…”

“Shared flat with two other guys from the zoo. They’re probably drinking in the lounge right now… so, your place?”

Unlocking the door you stepped inside and turned on a small lamp, standing aside so Henry could come into your small summer living space.

“Mmm nice” he nodded and looked around; “Wanna give me the tour?”

You snorted out a laugh at the formality, and held your arm out;

“Well this is the kitchen area, right next door we have the smallest shower room in Jersey, and here’s the bed” you didn’t need to take a single step for the ‘tour’, the room seeming even smaller as Henry took a single stride and wrapped his arm around your back, pulling you flush with his chest. Never breaking eye contact he gently trailed a single finger over your cheek, his thumb brushing your plump bottom lip;

“Are you going to be good for me?”

Your legs almost buckled at the deep baritone of his voice, igniting something within you that you hadn’t even known existed, eagerly nodding;

“Yes Sir”

Lowering his lips to yours he kissed you, his tongue pushing past your lips as he took control, walking the pair of you back until your legs hit the bed and you fell back onto the soft unmade covers. Covering your body with his, he quickly stripped you of your clothing, his mouth trailing behind his hands so every inch of you was gifted with a kiss.

Standing between your legs he pulled his t-shirt over his head and you couldn’t help but to moan at the sight of his body; toned and just the right amount of hair on his chest and a treasure trail on his abdomen that surely led to untold riches. Quickly sitting up your hands joined his on his button to his cargo pants;

“May i?”

Henry released his hands and nodded, watching as you carefully plucked the button before lowering the zipper painfully slowly, his boxers tented obscenely and you couldn’t help but to cup him in your palm, the searing heat of his engorged cock a welcome feel in your hands, the wide mushroom head clearly visible through the stretched fabric. Unceremoniously tugging the rest of his clothing down, you felt yourself getting wetter as his beautiful cock was finally revealed; big, thick and uncut, you had to taste him and quickly ducked your head forwards, swallowing his head between your lips as his hands flew to your hair to steady himself.

Now it was your turn to drive him crazy with your mouth, taking him as deep as you could even though it was barely half of his length, you wrapped both hands around what was left, the thick root of his shaft filling both palms. A few more pumps and he pulled his hips back with a gasp, a trail of spittle hanging from your lips to his bulbous tip;

“If you keep doing that i’m gonna cum far too soon…” he said, his voice shaking; “Lay back and let me treat you right…”

Scooting up the bed you settled against the pillows as you watched Henry shed himself of the rest of his clothing, his boots and socks hooked off, cargo pants and underwear all left in a messy pile at the side of the bed, before he crawled up the mattress like a Panther stalking its prey.

Capturing your lips for another searing kiss, you felt his hot shaft against your belly, burning against your skin and you so desperately wanted to feel him inside you. Pulling away just slightly you were already breathless;

“Just a second…” reaching for the small drawer at side of the bed you pulled out an unopened box of condoms, Henry sitting back on his knees as you ripped the box’s cellophane open with your teeth and pulled out a small foil packet, tearing it open before smoothing the latex over Henry’s shaft. Looking up to his face he wore a rather sheepish smile;

“Sorry, shoulda’ thought of that”

“S’ok, a girl’s gotta keep sharp these days…”

“Right…” he met your gaze; “But you know, if you had gotten pregnant, i would have stood by you”

“Umm thanks? But its for STD’s. I’m on the pill”

“Oh… good thinking…”

A tense pause hung over the pair of you, before you reached up and rested your hand on his chest;

“Shall we continue?”

At your words the tension in the room suddenly dissipated, Henry kissing you as he slid a hand between your bodies so he could position himself at your entrance, groaning as he pushed in slowly breaching your body. Your tight channel hugged him tight, unfamiliar with such a size splitting your walls so he paused, pressing light kisses to your face as your body grew accustomed with his size and the heavy weight of his dick in your pillowy soft embrace. Finally you moaned out his name;

“Henry… please…”

“What do you need?”

“Move… please move. Fuck me, please”

Pushing up on his forearms he started to fluidly move his hips, slow and steady, each thrust was gentle but firm, your body yielding to him as he started to increase the pace, the sound of hot bodies meeting filling the small wooden cabin as the gentle sounds of the sea not far away filled the rest of the night. Soft moans spilled from your lips at the feel of his body playing yours like a delicate instrument, waiting for the chorus and the inevitable crescendo. But he was going to play the entire symphony first, knowing how to get you to sing the high notes as the thrum of your bodies were in tune with each other completely.

With the stretch of his girth and the way the curve of it meant he was able to find your g-spot with every thrust you were fast approaching your orgasm, your body trembling as your lips found a life of their own;

“Henry… please, so good… keep doing that… oh god, i’m gonna cum…”

“That’s it, my good girl, cum on my cock, let me feel you squeezing me so tight… feel so amazing right now… that’s it, you can do it…”

With a cry you came, your legs wrapped around his waist as you pulled him deep whilst your body shook with a fierce orgasm, triggering his own as he pumped a heavy load into the condom.

Finally spent, Henry settled on top of you, his weight a heavy comfort as your sweaty bodies lay skin to skin, the gentle roughness of his chest hair against your naked breasts a tender reminder of his virility. When he started to soften he finally shifted, holding the condom at the base as he pulled out and staggered the few steps to your small bathroom;

“I’ll be back in a second, gotta sort this out…”

The door closed and you shifted on the bed, pulling the duvet back and sliding between the sheets, listening as you heard the tell tale sound of a man urinating and the high pitched, double barrelled squeak of a fart. The flush of the toilet and water running soon after meant you knew the second he would reappear, a flannel in his hand and he stopped dead, his cheeks suddenly bright crimson;

“You heard that didn’t you?”

“It's a small wooden cabin… yes i did”

“Sorry” he approached the bed and with a warm flannel he carefully cleaned between your thighs, pressing a kiss to your lips as he did. When finished he sat on the side of the bed; “Can i stay the night, or did you want me to go?”

“Have you got work tomorrow?”

“Nope. You?”

“Nope. Please, stay”

He quickly threw the flannel into the sink in the bathroom, before with a giggle climbed under the duvet and pulled you into his arms;

“So, how many more condom’s you got?”

The morning light broke softly through the trees that surrounded your cabin, your body sore but sated, knowing every bruise and ache came from soft lips, sharp teeth, or skilled fingers, apart from that one ache deep inside that you knew exactly what had caused that delicious soreness, and the owner and cause of all of it still softly slept in your bed. Climbing out you quickly used the bathroom, and as you came back into the room the artist in you couldn’t help but to admire how the dappled morning light cascaded over Henry’s body. Slipping his work t-shirt over your head you pulled your sketchbook from your backpack and settled onto the only chair in the room, quietly working carbon to paper.

Henry woke 45 minutes later, the gentle scratching of your art making him squint at the bright daylight, before laying back on the pillows with his arms spread;

“Still life class?”

Setting your sketchbook down you padded across the room and climbed onto the bed;

“Sorry, i couldn’t help myself… the way the sun was hitting the muscles of your back and shoulders, you were like an anatomy masterpiece”

With a laugh and moving much quicker than you thought he was possible of, he grabbed you by the waist and turned you, his body atop of yours;

“Well that’s enough of that, i would like to become better acquainted with your anatomy… and as we’ve both got the day off i suggest we make the most of it”

Laughing you fell into his embrace, sighing with happiness. Henry really was a keeper, as you were for sure not going to let him go.

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x you #henry cavill fanfiction

609 notes · View notes