#i fuck around with art that i enjoy making so it just takes forever
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This started out as a joke but then i realised the hight difference is kind of accurate💀
#spent soooo long on this for NO reason#i fuck around with art that i enjoy making so it just takes forever#it is Late and i am Tired#txf#msr#the x files#fanart#dana scully#fox mulder#my art#twitter meme#artists on tumblr
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𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒂 ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ #𝟏
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Choreographer Major!Jungkook X Rich Ballerina!(fem)Reader
Mini Series!!
Strangers to lovers! Au
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: In which Jungkook is so enamored with the pretty Ballerina he gets glimpses of dancing in the studio across from him when he’s practicing.
A/N: back with something finally!. I hope you all enjoy this lil bit of the Drabble series I’m starting. I’m really excited for it. Originally I wanted to make this a full length one shot but I decided to turn it into a Drabble series in stead cuz why not lol. Also the more I write for this new couple the more I’m getting attached & will want to continue writing more for them.
The best thing about transferring over to this royal academy of fine arts was not only because Jungkook can finally take his dancing more seriously, but also because he gets to look at pretty things everyday and by that, what he really means is the pretty little thing currently stretching before practice in the cutest pink bodysuit. A ruched sweetheart neckline and a small satin bow in the middle, mesh skirt to match that flows nicely with every move made.
So adorable.
It hadn’t even been a full week in yet since he started here but you’ve already quite captured his heart.
In the middle of his five minute break, he’s currently downing a bottle of cold water, but watching you twirl about and move effortlessly in the studio across from him. Jungkook realizes that his thirst is not entirely quenched and water isn’t merely enough to satiate it.
As much as he’s heard about you. The spoiled nepo princess who comes from a family born with old money that’ll last future generations a lifetime. Out of touch. Off limits. Stuck up prude. Too good for anyone. He’s only interested in getting to know you. Not the one people have told him about all around. Although, he hasn’t so much as said a word to you nor properly introduced himself yet, but Jungkook knows that you’ve caught on to him and the way he watches you, has an inkling that you secretly like it.
The little timid smiles you try to hide when you notice him staring a little too long in class or when you catch him watching you stretch before practice starts with a slightly annoyed look. He doesn’t bother hiding it either. Jungkook likes to tease and he likes the little attention you give him as well. He’s caught you once or twice stealing a glance at him when he’s going shirtless during practice.
It’s cute. You’re really cute.
It’s almost a month of this. Stealing glances, your pretty smiles he barely gets glimpses of and even faux irritated eye rolls he finds absolutely adorable. Lingering gazes from across the ways and brushing against your touch in between passes down the halls. It gets jam packed sometimes as students are struggling to get to class but he doesn’t mind the struggle that much. Not when Jungkook purposely squeezes up against you and he fucking loves to see your small and gorgeous self trying not to melt under his stare from above as he passes through, oh so slowly. And it’s not until a random Thursday evening does Jungkook finally hear your lovely saccharine voice that sounds like his forever favorite song.
“You know, it’s quite rude to stare.” Having caught him watching you once again from the entrance of the studio you're currently practicing in, you slowly walk your way up to him, crossing your arms.
“I was admiring you, pretty things should always be appreciated.” His lips curl into an attractive smile and the sight of him leaning against the door frame with muscular bare arms crossed over his broad and buff chest nearly has you in awe of how fine of a specimen he absolutely is. He’s glistening with sweat, hairline, neck and chest. No doubt having just finished his own dance practice. The white tank he’s clad in sticks to his upper body almost like a second skin and the gray sweats hanging low on his hips just add on to the flutters in the pit of your stomach and traveling down south.
You bite back a smile, keeping a neutral look as you level him with a narrowed stare. There’s no need to be getting flustered or nervous in front of a guy like him. Although you absolutely are on the inside, but of course he doesn’t need to know that.
“Oh, was that really what you were doing?.”
As you come to a stop in front of him, you say with a raised brow in questioning. His gaze falls to your glossed pink lips, looking so soft and scrumptious. Jungkook can only imagine how they’d feel against his own and he licks his lips at the mere thought of such. The apples of your cheeks have a dusted pink to them he thinks looks cute on you. The light glam makeup you’re wearing is pretty but it’s not needed, he thinks. You’re effortlessly gorgeous, he could stare at you all day long and never tire or be bored.
“You know it can be pretty creepy, especially coming from a stranger.”
He doesn’t move an inch nor does his unwavering gaze with you falter, piercing into your being like he’s trying to dig deep into your soul.
“Is that so?. Hmm.”
Jungkook pushes himself off the door frame so suddenly and steps up to you as you have. He’s so close that it prompts you to take a step back, but he’s quick to follow closely once more and the intensity of his stare pins you to your spot, unmoving. His aura and the dominance he exudes is overpowering. Your own resolve is waning, cracking at the seams. Fuck, do you not have it together anymore like you initially thought and you’ve barely even met the guy.
“I know you like it when I watch you, princess.” The corners of his lips tug up into a full blown teasing grin and he tilts his head, tonguing the inside of his cheek as he watches you for a moment. As if he’s got you all figured out.
“When I have my eyes on you. I see the way you smile to yourself when you think I’m not looking and don’t think I don’t notice the little shows you put on for me when you do your stretches. Especially when you do them with your partner.”
A breathy hitch escapes you, heart rate spiking and feeling a bit embarrassed at being called out like this, but you both know it’s true. You’re not exactly subtle yourself when you give him something extra to look at when he’s watching.
Jungkook takes another step closer, this time fully invading your space as he leans in to whisper in your ear for you to hear his next words very clearly. The whiff of his sweat mixed with a light fresh jasmine musk(most likely his cologne) fills your nostrils and oh how you can’t help but to slightly inhale how nice he still smells, even after practice.
“I’ll have you know, I can stretch you out the way you need in more ways than I’ve seen these past few weeks, princess.”
The deep velvety tone of his voice sends tingles down your spine and he starts a heat below you almost can't think straight. Nearly moaning at the words he speaks and Jungkook catches note of the tiny whimper you tried to keep inside. He smiles widely, licking his lips at the sweet sound of it.
It excites him and strokes his ego a bit to know you’re affected by him just as much as he’s affected by you and what you do to him. Pretty doll like you will be the death of him. Oh how he knows it.
Your heart is beating rapidly and it just might burst out of your chest with how hard it pounds. You think he might be able to hear it with how close he is to you.
The sudden bell ringing throughout the studio has you startled and you back away from him immediately. Jungkook takes his sweet time walking his way backwards and watching you a bit longer as he does so.
He likes the sight of you a cute flustered mess and he thinks he should make you one more often for all the teasing you’ve been doing.
“Well, you should probably get to class and by the way, I’m Jungkook. Nice officially meeting you princess.”
With one last smile he turns around and enters the hall, mixing in amongst students getting to their next class.
The second he’s gone you exhale a deep breath, hand on your forehead rubbing at your temple with your mind still running a mile a minute trying to process what just transpired between the two of you.
The both of you finally talked. The new and cute dancer you’ve been silently crushing on upon his arrival called you pretty. His name is Jungkook and he may be into you just as much as you’re into him?.
“What the absolute fuck…”
౨ৎ — hope you enjoyed! let me know your thoughts as well, I’d love to read them 🫶🏻
#angllicjk#jungkook fics#jungkook fluff#jungkook x reader#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x oc#dancerjungkook#jungkook fanfics#jungkook imagine#jungkook scenarios#jeon jungkook#bts jungkook#jungkook x female reader#romance#future smut#bts fic#bts fanfic#bts#jungkook smut#jungkook x you#bts x you
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Rumour Part Three: Roles
Description: as you and Eddie establish your relationship, it seems like no one can get in the way of it. Or can they?
Warnings: NSFW minors DNI or I'll poke you with a sharp stick, a trifecta of angst, fluff and smut, male oral receiving, fingering, slight switch dom!older!pierced!eddie x slight switch sub!fem!reader, unprotected sex, slight pain kink
A/N: I'm so glad you lot are enjoying this as much as I enjoy writing it, makes me very happy to see all your comments and reblogs, thank you!! Also I apologise to anyone called Estelle or Matt ;)
❤ If you enjoy this, please reblog the hell out of it, pretty pretty please! ❤
5.6k words
Masterlist Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5
Lying in bed with Eddie was everything. It was two in the afternoon, and neither of you wanted to get up just yet. A warm glowing bubble had settled over the both of you and you were loath to break it. Eddie's wearing a pair of black trunks, you're in an oversized t shirt and no pants, since Eddie had pulled them down three times last night and it seemed an exercise in futility to put them on again.
Your legs were tangled together comfortably, like a pair of puzzle pieces finding their perfect match. Stroking your hand over his chest, you were tracing the lines of his tattoos.
"How many do you have? Tattoos I mean," you clarify, circling a devils head and horns just by his mass of chest hair.
"Pass. I've no idea sweet thing. Dozens. A hundred? I dunno." His hand travels to yours, helping you trace around a scorpion on his abdomen, muscles flexing underneath your touch.
"Well, which ones the oldest?"
He shifts to show you his arm. "See these bats?"
You nod, fingers whispering over his skin to rub at the flock of faded bats on his forearm.
"Got them when I was 17. No real reason, just thought they looked metal." He snorted a little laugh at his past self.
You smile at the glimpse of the past he's allowed you to see. Gazing up at him, you ask "what's your favourite one?"
He grins and winks at you. "Oh that's easy. Shift over a little?"
You move backwards a bit whilst he switches positions to lay on his side away from you, displaying his completely tattooed back.
It's the only tattoo he has in colour. A full back piece of a monstrous dragon with five heads, wreathed in flame. The art is incredible, so intricate and beautiful. You run your hands over it, marvelling at the details.
"Its pretty awesome Eddie."
He rolls back over to face you, fingers fluttering over your figure.
"I love it. Its Tiamat, the five headed dragon Goddess, from Dungeons and Dragons."
You laugh, shaking your head. "You nerd."
He chuckles back. "Yup, 'fraid so."
Nuzzling his face into your side, you hear his muffled voice "what time is it?"
Nearly 2:15."
"Urgh, I need to be in the shop at 3:45." He sighs into your shirt, then sits up.
"I'm gonna take a shower." After pecking you on the cheek, he swings his muscular legs off the bed and makes his way to the bathroom.
You sigh in contentment at the empty room, then pad your way out to the kitchen area to make some coffee for the pair of you. Once the pot is done you pour one for yourself.
Busying yourself in the kitchen, seeing if there were enough ingredients to make pancakes, you hear Eddie's voice from the doorway.
"Oh you made coffee, thanks sweets."
"No problem baby- oh."
Well fuck me.
There he stood, completely naked, roughly rubbing a towel through his wet mane of hair. Body glistening, steam rolling off his skin, tattoos darker and gleaming wet. His muscles shone in the light, taunt frame perfectly on display. Damp chest hair dripped deliciously down to his happy trail. Your eyes were inevitably drawn to his impressive length hanging between his legs, slightly pink and heavy looking, piercing glinting, inviting you over.
Glistening in front of you, so effortlessly, he looked like some sort of heathen God. You'd happily get down on your knees and worship him forever.
"What you staring at? Something you like sweet thing?" Eddie tips his head at you, smug smile creeping across his face.
Your mouth is hanging open. Snapping it shut, cheeks glowing, you walk over to him.
"We had sex like, three times last night and you still blush at me naked? You're too cute." He chuckles at you.
He stops laughing when you reach him and drop to your knees, hands trailing up his thighs.
"Woah, pretty girl, what are you doing?"
You take his member into your hands, running your palms over his length, feeling it harden quickly from your soft touches.
"I wanna, I wanna give you head."
He smiles softly at you. "Sweets you don't need to do that."
You keep running your hands over him, one dipping to cup his balls, rolling them gently in your hand. He lets out a shaky breath.
"You always take care of me, you never let me." You frown. "But I want to. Please Eddie?"
He moans, eyes rolling back. "Always so fuckin' polite. Shit."
Running your tongue up the length of his fully hard cock, you cover it with open mouthed kisses, licking and gently sucking at his shaft. Eddie hisses; you hear the towel he was holding flump to the floor, large hand coming to rest on the back of your head, engulfing your hair.
Taking his tip into your mouth, you trace around each cold steel ball with your tongue, swirling around either end of the piercing, swallowing pre cum. Eddie groans loudly, thumb rubbing the back of your head with encouragement.
Rubbing your tongue back and forth over his slit, you use your hands to work his shaft, dribbling spit to help glide across him. His slippery hard length is pulsing in your hands.
"Holy shit, pretty girl, that's- fuck, that's really good."
You moan around him, humming at the praise, doubling your efforts. You need him to come. He makes you feel so good all the time and you need him to know.
Trying your hardest to please him, you take him into your throat as much as you can. Granted, it's only just over halfway down his dick, but from the noises he's making it's enough. You feel the strange bump of steel at the back of your throat. Using your hands for the rest, you stroke him firmly. Each movement conveying just how much he means, how much you want to worship him.
"Oh sweet thing, God that's- oh fuck, hmm." Eddie's lost the power of speech which you take as the highest compliment. He's listening to your prayers.
Releasing him from your mouth, you stroke him with your hand and gently take one of his balls in your mouth, suckling gently, running your tongue all over it. Eddie was clearly not expecting it; you feel his legs shudder and a high pitched whine expel from his mouth. You smirk, taking the other in your mouth for the same treatment whilst firmly stroking his dick, endeavouring to show him your devotion.
"Oh fuck I'm gonna- shit, please- let me cum in your mouth" he's breathless and twitching, flushed red, practically quivering at your reverence.
You take his cock back into his mouth and hollow your cheeks, bobbing up and down his length quickly, squeezing his balls in your hand.
"Oh fuck, I'm, fuck-" as he shoots his load into your mouth. You swallow and swallow around his length, not stopping until he's whimpering, empty, his fill of your worship well and truly taken.
Halting your movements you behold him through damp lashes.
"Was that ok?"
"Fuckin' hell sweet thing, it was a little bit more than ok. Jesus H. Christ, I've got to go to work. Fuck, how am I this lucky?"
You blush and stand up, placing a kiss to his full lips.
"You want your coffee now?"
"Yeah, and a cigarette, before I do anything else." He crumples onto the couch, grabbing the towel to hide his modesty.
You get his coffee, add sugar and creamer, and bring him his cigarettes. Beaming at you, he takes you into his lap.
"What's this all about? Being all sweet to me."
You hide your head in his chest, suddenly shy. No matter how much confidence you portray in the world, the minute you get a look from Eddie it dissolves.
"I dunno, I just, I wanna take care of you Eddie."
He flashes an soft grin and holds you close, planting a sweet kiss on your forehead. "You already have sweet thing."
********************
Later that evening you're wiping down tables at the bar and collecting stray glasses.
"Hey, you may as well go, I'll finish up tonight, it's dead anyway." Your manager shouts over to you.
"Thanks!" You deposit the glasses in the dishwasher, hanging up your apron.
You check the time, 11pm. I wonder if he's still at the shop?
Eddie works late sometimes, he never wants to get up before noon so his client base tended to be night owls like him. Deciding to take the risk, you throw on your jacket and march into the chilly night air, walking the couple of blocks over to the tattoo shop.
Turning the corner, you see the shutters are down but the light is still on upstairs. You give it a minute, stopping to smoke a cigarette that Eddie had pre rolled for you. As you smoke, you hear voices, and a woman's laugh, clear as a bell.
Your stomach drops out from under you. Feeling your heart skipping a sick thud, then rushing blood, faster; faster than should be possible whilst standing still.
Ok calm the fuck down.
You take a breath, trying to calm the anticipated anger that's buzzing in your system and clouding your brain. It's stupid, you know, entirely unwarranted. It doesn't stop your mind leaping to the worst possible outcome.
Suddenly the door swings open and some Hollywoodian goddess swans out the door, all blonde mane, bust and teeth. Eddie walks out with her, giving her an embrace.
"Thanks Eds, you're the best!" She keens; shooting you what can only be described as a Look, then sways off on her too high heels.
"See you sweetheart!" He waves. The nickname forces an angry blush to the tips of your ears. Eddie turns to go back inside, then sees you and looks surprised.
"Hey pretty girl! What you doing here?" His grin is sugary and warm at your unexpected presence, settling the angry rolling feeling in your stomach. The rage is still there; no longer an explosive boil, but a simmer.
"Came to check, see if you were still working. I got off early."
"Come in then sweets, I gotta tidy up before I leave." He takes large strides back inside and you struggle to keep up with him.
Making his way back to his workstation, he's throwing away leftover bottles and paper towels covered in ink splotches, whilst you try and act as normal as possible.
"So, who was that?" Voice quivering ever so slightly as you take your coat off.
"Oh that's Estelle, finished her lower back piece today." He says, not even looking up, removing his gloves.
Ah, tramp stamp, I knew it.
"There's a band playing tomorrow night, at a bar not far from here, she said. Not too heavy, you should like it. What do you think sweet thing?" He looks up at you, eyebrows raised.
"Huh? Oh sure, whatever. Sure she's got great taste," Shrugging at him, you look around the walls of the shop at the various artworks hanging up.
"Woah, you being a bit judgy pretty girl?" He smirks.
"Why? She a librarian or something?" You bite back, eyes narrowing.
He laughs, "no she's a stripper."
"Oh course she fucking is," you mumble, cheeks burning.
He perches on the leather chair, arms out. "Hey, c'mere."
You huff, but move closer, allowing yourself to be hugged, arms pinned at your sides.
"What's up, sweetheart?" He brushes your cheek and you flinch, jaw clenching. Concern fills his eyes, brows heavy with confusion.
"Don't call me that. You just called her that."
You see realisation dawn on that stupidly handsome face of his, and his gaze grows softer.
"Oh, pretty girl, are you jealous?"
You look down at your own hands sandwiched between the two of you, unable to meet his eye. A firm grip holds your chin, pulling you to face him, smooth smile with a hint of smirk pervading his features.
"Listen, you have nothing to worry about. That woman's got more silicone in her than a Barbie doll. Not my thing." You giggle slightly, a small smile threatening to push your mouth corners upwards. "I call everyone sweetheart, it's nothing."
You pull away from him, eyes narrowing. "Yeah? Why call me sweetheart then?"
He holds his hand to his chest, miming being hit. "Ooft, you got me there. Force of habit."
He grabs your hand, kissing your knuckles.
"I don't call her sweet thing." He pulls you closer, "or pretty girl." His hands begin stroking up and down your sides. "Those are reserved for you." Slow, soft kisses are planted on your neck. "I don't call her my good girl. I don't call her my girlfriend."
Girlfriend.
He's not asked. And why would he, what are you, twelve?
"I'm your girlfriend?" You look at him with wide eyes and a wobbling lip.
"Well I fuckin' hope so, I've said you are to everyone I've seen today. I think Estelle was pissed at me for not shutting up about you to be honest."
You can't help but giggle triumphantly at that. Staring at him, you look at his neck, the side untouched by tattoos. Mischievous look adorning your features, you bend and kiss into his neck. Softly, at first, so he melts into your touch, then you grip him, and suck.
"Pretty girl, oh fuck, what are you doing?"
You release his neck with a wet suck, looking pleased with the purplish mark that's beginning to blossom.
"Marking my territory."
He puffs out a laugh "oh my little jealous girl," and strokes your head.
Somehow that's makes you madder. You're not a jealous girl. You're a woman.
You shove him a little. "Lie back."
He smirks at you, but he listens, lying fully in the reclined tattoo chair, eyes trying to work out your next move.
Clambering on top of him, you tug at the hem of his t shirt. He pulls it over his head, exposing his torso. You run your fingers down, finding spots to suck bruises into, taking small mouthfuls of whatever exposed, ink free skin you can find.
"What you doing sweet thing?" He chuckles.
"I'm trying to find blank bits to hickey!"
He laughs out loud at your frustrations. Until you sink your teeth into his soft flesh.
"Oh pretty- oh fuck!" He practically yelps, hips thrusting upwards.
You gaze down at him, taking in his flushed cheeks, round eyes and heaving chest.
Oh.
"Wait, does that turn you on?" You raise your eyebrow at him, fingertips ghosting his sides.
"Is it that much of a stretch to think I've got a thing for pain?" He says it confidently, gesturing to his inky body whilst cockily smirking; yet this appears masked, false. Looking in his eyes you can tell how much you've affected him
Not saying anything, you merely pinch one of his nipples and twist it lightly. Eddie's mouth falls open, pretty little moan escaping those full lips, eyebrows knitted.
Grinning deviously, you bend over him and take the other nipple into your mouth, rolling your tongue around it, before nipping at it and pulling with your teeth.
"Jesus H. Christ! Fuck."
You look up at him. Eddie's flushing the prettiest pink colour, mouth practically drooling, eyelids heavy with lust. You've never seen him like this before, losing control. Wait, that's not it. He's relinquishing control, giving himself to you.
You stand up and he huffs at the loss of contact, until you begin stripping off your clothes. He hurriedly pulls his jeans and boxers down, not even bothering to take them off, just bunching them at his ankles. His dick looks painfully hard, almost dribbling, angry red at the tip. Swinging your leg back over you straddle him, sliding your pussy over his length, back and forth. Your nails drag harder down his chest than you ever would have dared before, leaving scarlet paths joining up his inked frame. He bucks, shaking underneath. You continue to glide your sopping heat over him, grinding over the shaft, relishing the tingle of his piercing when it flits over your clit.
"Please, sweet thing." His whole demeanour has changed, begging you, pleading with you. An idea pops into your brain.
Leaning forward, you whisper low and quiet in his ear, "are you gonna be a good boy for me?" The low groan he releases resonates from his chest and into yours, firm hands coming to settle on your hips.
You take his hard length in your hands and guide him into you, slipping gently onto him inch by inch. No matter how many times, it still feels like the first time. Your face scrunches up, discomfort evident.
"You ok sweets?" Eddie's rubbing your hip in consolation.
"Yeah, just... really fuckin' big baby."
He smirks, as always. "Never get tired of hearing that."
Stroking your hands down his chest, you hold onto his sides firmly, possessively, rocking into him. Each movement, each flick of your hips produces a ripple of pleasure. You grind down, rocking hard, back and forth, building up the rhythm, the pressure in your stomach building, your throbbing want intensifying.
Once you start bouncing up and down Eddie's done for. You see his face, desperately trying to keep some measure of control whilst he stares at your tits bouncing right in front of him, at his dick being swallowed up by your hungry cunt.
The noise of squelching sex surrounds you, moans and whines adding to the pornographic soundtrack. You can tell Eddie's barely holding it together, as he quickly reaches for your clit, rubbing almost vicious circles, eager for you to come before he does.
The tell tale tingle grips hold of you, a buzzing through your core and up your spine. The shattering of nerves; a delivery of white hot light spills from his fingertips and into your being, filling you to the brim with his rapture.
You throw your head back at the intense feeling, letting out whimpers of devotion to him, rocking back and forth, willing the moment to continue. You're barely aware of his own release, only realising when you finally snap your eyes open to see his slam shut, tensing beneath you, letting go in a gun shot, tension ripped from his body by your gripping walls.
Leaning forward, hot panting breaths mingling with each others, you press your lips into a searing kiss.
In between pants, Eddie manages, "not that I mind, but fuck, what's gotten into you today, pretty girl?" He chuckles, stroking your cheek with a rough thumb pad.
"You're mine." You simply say, protective hand laid onto the middle of his chest, over his heart. He grips your hand in his, and smiles.
********************
The next evening you're perching on a stool at a moderately busy bar, twisting a napkin in your hands. Nerves have you in their grip whilst you wait for Eddie to arrive, bubbling away in your tummy. It seems strange, but this is technically your second date, the first being when he took you to lunch. Eddie hadn't exactly courted you, he claimed you. If you were honest with yourself, you were his the first time he laid eyes on you.
Still wanting to impress him, you'd decided to dress up. Kitted out in a short black dress with a cute cherry pattern, lower cut than you would usually dare, fishnet hold ups and ankle boots, you were confident he would be pleased.
You had certainly attracted the attention of a few men dotted around the bar, lone sharks circling. Paying them no mind, you sipped your drink and waited on Eddie.
It was a pretty decent looking place, certainly nicer than the dive where you worked. The ceilings were high, with huge light fixtures hanging almost like art pieces, letting out twinkling light, bathing the crowd in spots of colour, sparkling on the red linoleum floor. The atmosphere was buzzing with anticipation for the upcoming band, people smiling, waving at friends, rushing back and forth to the bar to get drinks. You sat on a stool at the end of the bar, neatly tucked in a corner. The light was good here, and it was opposite the main entrance, perfect for spotting Eddie when he eventually got here.
Looking up to check the door again you lock eyes with another man. He smiles and starts walking over.
Well that's typical.
You roll your eyes, but as he gets closer, you breathe a sigh of relief. It's one of the regulars at your bar. At least you may not have to wait for Eddie alone.
"Hey Matt!" You smile as he walks over, giving you a brief hug.
"Hey darlin! Never see you in here, you're always working!" He grins at you. Matt always chatted to you when you were on shift, checking how you were doing. Objectively, he was a handsome guy. Broad shouldered, with a mop of messy ashen blonde hair and perfect teeth. He looked like he was around his mid twenties, and definitely a former jock judging by his physique.
You usually saw him with his girlfriend, an almost frightening replica of him in female form. In your head you'd nicknamed them the Cheer Clones since they reminded you so much of the cheerleaders in your high school.
"Where's-" don't say cheer clone, don't say cheer clone, shit what's her name-
"Jessie? We broke up." He frowns, looking down for a second, then waves at the bar tender.
"Oh, so sorry to hear that, you ok?" You pat his arm in consolation.
"I'll be ok, really. You want a drink?"
"Sure, bourbon and soda please."
He orders and pays for the round, sitting on the bar stool next to you.
"So, hot date?" He asks, waggling his eyebrows.
You giggle, hiding your face in your hands, "yeah how did you know?"
"Er, girl, you live in jeans! He must be pretty special." He grins at you.
You flush at the mere thought of Eddie. You can't deny, these past few weeks had been pretty spectacular.
"Wow, you've got it bad, huh? Pleased for you." He says, sipping his beer, looking just over your shoulder and flashing a small smile.
Before you can turn, an arm is thrown over your shoulder; rough stubble and soft lips touch your forehead.
"Sorry I'm late, sweet thing."
"Eddie!" You smile, looking up at him, but his stony glare is cemented on Matt.
"Baby, this is Matt, he comes to my bar. Matt this is Eddie, my boyfriend." You gesture between the two.
Matt sticks his hand out. Eddie looks at it briefly as if it offends him, before staring back at Matt's eyes.
"Pleasure to meet you." Matt puts his hand down but still flashes a winning smile at Eddie.
"Yeah, nice to meet you too Mike." And he motions his hand at the bar tender, immediately getting his attention and ordering a beer, arm never leaving your shoulders.
"Its Matt, actually-"
"Yeah, sure thing champ." Eddie says dismissively, slaps a note down to pay for the beer, and nearly drags you to your feet.
"Bands about to start, let's go my pretty girl."
You move, being pulled by the wrist, and mouth a 'sorry' at Matt. He just smiles and salutes you as you go past.
Eddie stops once you are free from Matt's gaze, stepping back to pull your arm in the air above you, making you turn for him so he can admire your outfit. You cannot help but admire his.
Eddie's dressed up for you. The first thing that grabs your attention and refuses to let go is the fact that your very sexy boyfriend is wearing eyeliner. That fact alone has you weak at the knees.
He's wearing a black button down, undone to the point of unholiness, exposing his chest tattoos and a thin silver chain just kissing the tops of his pecs. His black jeans are tight, hugging every muscle, leading down to chunky army boots. There's no other way to describe it; he exudes sex. It's as if every fibre of him was made to ooze this animalistic aura; you could nearly smell it in the air.
"You look really great Eddie."
Meeting his eyes, you see his pupils are blown, drinking in every ounce of your figure with blasphemous intention.
"Sweet thing, you look incredible." He pulls you close to wrap his arms around you. "Remind me never to let you wait for me inside a bar again."
You laugh, love drunk eyes roaming his face, "you jealous Mr Munson?"
He kisses you full on the lips, a fiery kiss, hot and messy in its delivery, tongue chasing yours. When he breaks away, you lean forward in hope, missing the contact.
"Why should I be? I already have you." He winks, then pulls you so your back is flush to his chest, manoeuvring you both to face the band who have just come on stage.
The band are indeed decent, and pretty soon the heady atmosphere, the bourbon, and the warm glow of Eddie's arms around you have you grinning and swaying to the music. You're moving your hips, ass against Eddie, enjoying the moment.
Eddie's large hands never leave you. If he's not wrapping his arms around your neck, he's holding you protectively by the hips, keeping you close to him. If anyone in the crowd got too close or rowdy, he was there, keeping you safe.
The band takes a break and Eddie whips you around to face him, hands rubbing up and down your sides, predatory gaze fixed on you.
"If you're gonna keep dancing like that pretty girl, I may just have to take you home." He smiles, biting his lip.
"Hmm, I think you can wait a couple hours." You throw your arms around his neck and press a kiss to his lips.
"Ok, I'm gonna go to the bathroom," he fishes out a note from his pocket and hands it to you, "go grab us some drinks on me."
You take the money and peck him again, scooting your way back over to the busy bar.
The crowd has merged and flowed, making their way to the bar, dam about to burst with the influx of people wanting the same thing.
You queue, waiting for service, when you notice a friendly face next to you.
"Hey Matt, how's your evening going?" You say, touching his arm.
"Great thanks, the bands really good. Look, sorry if I upset your boyfriend there."
You giggle and roll your eyes "don't worry about it."
"Seriously, I didn't mean to offend him I just-"
Suddenly, Matt has disappeared and you are staring at Eddie's torso.
"Come here sweets. Say goodbye to Mark."
You here a small voice say "it's Matt, actually-"
"Whatever kid" Eddie growls, leading you away from the bar.
"Eddie, what are you doing I haven't even got drinks yet-"
"Just come with me."
You allow yourself to be lead, pulled helplessly by the wrist. Eddie snakes around the crowd, leading you past the backstage area and into a small bathroom. It's strange that he seems to know the layout of the place so well. You stop him in his tracks, annoyed by his behaviour.
"Eddie, seriously what's up with you? You know I'm not just gonna leave you right?" Soft eyes meet his.
"I know sweet thing," and he presses you against the wall so fast it makes your head spin.
"I just need everyone else to know that."
Without further warning his hand is stroking up your thigh, fingers grazing your clothed pussy. Given his urgency, his clear need for you, his touch is soft. His other hand snakes to the back of your neck, forcing eye contact. The eyeliner only focuses how intensely he looks at you, dark circles drawing you in.
"Can I make you feel good sweet thing?" Fingertips fondling your heat, hot breath asphyxiating. Eddie overwhelms you, exuding heat, passion making it difficult to breathe.
"Yeah" you manage breathily, devastated by his presence, trying to keep some semblance of self. It's so difficult to when Eddie tears you apart by simply being there, in your space.
Rough fingertips pull your underwear aside and massage across your slit, finding your clit immediately. Your breath catches in your throat, shock of delectation pervading your senses.
Eddie slides two thick fingers deep inside you making you gasp. He rocks them into you, setting a ruthless rhythm, eyes never leaving yours.
"Now, I'm going to make you come pretty girl, twice in a row, and you're gonna enjoy it, ok?"
You mumble some semblance of yes, ability to concentrate considerably lessened by the sure movements of his hand. He curls his digits into you, hitting the spot inside you that makes your toes curl inside your boots.
"Eddie, fuck, yes" you keen and writhe against the wall, eye contact stripping you of any modesty, any thought.
Eddie's relentless movements continue as he sucks bruises onto the tops of your breasts, purple colouring blossoming against your chest, a blooming floral display of blood soaked skin.
"Oh my God Eddie," you moan, his sure hands coaxing pure bliss from your core, sopping wet noise of your arousal echoing through the small space.
"That guy out there, your friend, what's his name?" Eddie's eyes bore into yours, hand not stopping.
You're pulled out of the pleasure pit he's thrown you into, visibly confused. "You- you mean Matt? He's just-"
Eddie doubles his efforts, curling his fingers into you harder, palm rubbing hard against your clit, reigniting the fire in your belly.
"Oh my God Eddie, fuck-" you grind yourself unabashedly against his thick fingers, immense feeling towering over you, threatening to topple at his very command.
"You gonna come pretty girl? My pretty girl?" He says, dark eyes piercing into your very soul, "come then, come on my fucking fingers."
His gravelly voice and confident manoeuvres are pushing you over that edge, emphasis on his swear word singing through your nerves and into your cunt. Unable to process such feeling, such unbridled ardour, you moan loudly into the air without a care of who could hear you.
Your release pushes through you with all the force of a natural disaster. Whipping through your soul like a hurricane of sensation, cunt throbbing with the complexity of feeling. It rips away any insecurities, making you moan as loud as your body needs without fear of repercussion.
But it doesn't stop, not yet. Eddie's not through with you. His movements continue, coaxing you through the orgasm and into the other side, relentless and unabating.
"Fuck Eddie, please, its too much-"
Eddie's free hand grips your chin, forcing you to make eye contact with him.
"Do you want me to stop." The question is real, but your commitment waivers, enjoying the relentless hold he has on your pussy.
"No, please-" you moan, your flower continuing to open to him, flesh yielding and soft as putty in his hands. A fuzz settles over your brain; you mind clouded, filled with Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Your eyes roll back, unable to control your gaze. Eddie shakes you lightly by the chin, forcing you back to reality.
"So what's that guy's name?"
You look at him through damp lashes, tears building in the corners of your eyes, utterly incapable of speech.
"I said, what's that guy's name?"
"Eddie, fuck I- wha?" Words a slur, body limp against the wall; the only thing keeping you upright is the burly hand firmly between your legs, fingers deep inside; your Eddie's marionette.
"Good girl. That's what I thought." Eddie smiles smugly, running his thumb over your clit in swift motions, fingers continually hitting that spot inside you.
Your second release feels even more powerful than the first, ripping a passionate whine from your throat. The noises you're making are incomprehensible as your whole body seizes up and your slick shoots out, coating Eddie's hand, your thighs, and even the floor.
"Jesus fucking Christ you are the devil." It comes out as a rush, almost one word.
Laughing deviantly, Eddie moves his hand and you nearly crumple to the floor. He catches you, pushing you against the wall with his body. Your eyes are drawn to the deep v in his shirt, to his inky muscled chest.
"Eddie?" You look at him and he stares back, faces impossibly close.
"Yes sweet thing?"
"You've ruined my underwear."
He laughs deeply. "What can I say, it's a talent. Can I take you home my little super soaker?"
You flush with embarrassment, hot cheeks aflame. "Eddie!"
Straightening your clothes and attempting to sort your hair out, you look down, taking in your love bitten chest for the first time. Purple red welts adorn the swell of your breasts in a low necklace of ownership. You'd be mad at him if it didn't make you throb inside.
He leads you back to the bar and towards the main entrance, attempting to get you home as quickly as possible to finish what he's started, when you're stopped in your tracks by cloud of perfume and blonde hair.
"Hey Eds!"
"Hey Estelle, you good? This is my girlfriend I told you about."
You smile at her dutifully, and spot a familiar face yet again, hovering by, his eyes trained on the marks on your chest.
"Estelle, nice to meet you! Hey, have you met Mark?" You gesture at him to move closer while Eddie snickers next to you.
He sticks his hand out to her "it's Matt actually."
Oops.
Masterlist
Tag list part 1- rest will be in the comments
@angelsarecallin @cutiecusp @pxrxcxa @spencerinmydrawls @munsquinns @sillypurplemurple @tiannamortis @walleloveseve @sinczir @biblichornerd @frogers @lauraasiain @madiisixx @leftdonkeygothgoop-blog @rafestarkeysblog @kittykatvenom @southside-serpent-bae @psychedelicsandsunsalutations @biblichornerd @angelina16torres-blog
#ms gexy writes#rumour series#older!eddie#pierced!eddie#tattoo artist eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie x you#eddie munson x you#eddie x reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie x fem!reader#dom!eddie munson#dom!eddie#switch!eddie#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things smut#stranger things 4#stranger things fan fic#eddie munson fan fic#eddie munson au#tattoo artist eddie#eddie my beloved#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fandom
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kahlopatra headcanons? 🙏
bestieeee
these are gonna be random a f
(college au/i aged em up)
Cleopatra runs cold, Frida runs hot. It's perfect.
yes, they both have their tickets for the Barbie movie. Cleopatra has her outfit planned out (pink pink pink everything) and Frida is very excited to be Cleo's Ken.
Frida thought she had a high tolerance for spicy food but Cleopatra is in a different league. Like she could go on Hot Ones and not even flinch.
but Cleo haaaates Tajin. Frida loves it. She puts it on fruit and Cleo couldn't believe her eyes.
Cleopatra has a cat! (i was picturing a siamese) Frida is lowkey allergic, but she can handle it. But if you thought Cleo was snooty...wait till you meet this cat.
Cleopatra snores. Frida thought it would be cute and quiet but it's actually kinda loud. Frida is contemplating ways to bring this up and survive to see another day.
Frida is an Aquarius! Cleopatra is a Scorpio (not to get in my astrology bag but I think she's a scorpio sun, leo rising and gemini moon. venus in leo or taurus. what do yall think about it.)
I wrote a lot hehe woops.
(TW: weed) Cleopatra is like a 'smoke at parties' kinda girl, whereas Frida smokes often for funsies and as a creativity boost.
(TW: weed) They tried to do a 'take an edible and go to an aquarium' date but Cleopatra got too high and freaked out in the shark tunnel. They'll try again but with an arboretum next time.
Frida can play the guitar. Cleopatra goaded her into playing for her once and folded immediately when she started singing. (at one point, Frida looked up and Cleo was taking off her clothes)
Speaking of, Cleopatra told Frida she signed up to be a model for her art class. Frida did not know she was a nude model. Frida should have guessed. damn it was hard to focus on painting that day
Cleopatra is now Frida's personal fashion consultant. She's a (cheerleader, homecoming queen) part-time model, she has a very keen eye for fashion obvi
When it's cold, Frida wears socks to bed and they argue about it all the time. They also argue about what side of the bed to sleep on (they both want the right side smh).
Frida loves going along with Cleo on her many beauty shop appointments (nails, hair, spa, etc) but won't go into any waxing/threading shop because the technicians start getting twitchy just looking at her. She feels like if she fell asleep, she'd wake up tied to the chair with two eyebrows.
They watch a lot of movies. Cleopatra laments how expensive TVs used to be but loves that they're cheap now because a big screen TV still makes her feel rich and luxurious.
Frida will be the first one to say I love you and it will mess Cleo up a little bit. don't worry tho, they'll talk about it! she's just not used to being loved (saad)
Frida is teaching Cleo Spanish, but all she wants to learn is swear words and dirty talk. it's gonna take a while
Cleopatra is a bug killer, Frida tries to trap and release.
Harriet (Frida's roomie in this AU) was extremely suspicious of Cleo at first ("wasn't she like your nemesis?") but she came around eventually ("enemies to lovers is kinda sexy...")
Frida is currently showing Cleo so many Spongebob episodes, she was sick of her constant references going to waste.
yes, they listen to a LOT of new music together. Frida tries to go in chronological order (2004 music, 2005 music etc), so that Cleo could hear the progression of music sound. (i could go on and on about music but these r getting long already)
Cleopatra is a passenger princess, but mostly because everybody is too scared to get in a car with her at the wheel; she drives like she's playing fucking GTA. (Frida thought people were kidding, but after they went soaring over a downhill speed bump one time, Frida politely took the keys forever).
speaking of GTA, that's Cleo's favorite video game. she enjoys mowing people down, blowing things up, and getting cute new outfits. Frida thinks its a good way for her to indulge her sadistic streak.
Mario Kartin': Frida mains an Orange Yoshi, Cleo goes between Peach and Rosalina (she refuses to make a Mii she thinks they're too ugly to represent her).
They become a different couple when they play mario kart. Frida is really fucking good and Cleopatra can't stand that shit eating grin every time she wins. (cleo would be like that tik tok sound: right hand on the bible, god can strike me down if im lying, that motherfucker's cheating!)
-----
I could write more but i wrote way too much already. y'all would have to ask for part 2. Also... may have snuck my next fic in here teehee.
if anybody wants to use these for art or what have you, go for it (but it better be gooood 😜)
tag and credit me tho so i can see it and be overjoyed
THANKS FOR ASKIN BESTIE!
#kahlopatra#clone high frida#clone high cleopatra#thank you for this question bestie hehe#anybody watch mpgis?
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Picasso
after months of silent pining over the boy across the hall, y/n finds herself face to face with the one person she can’t seem to get off her mind. a friendly dinner and a night spent in the art studio leads to more truth being revealed than either bargained for. a profession of attraction leads to an opportunity for an unconventional hookup, where Sam gets to make her first time unforgettable.
COLLEGE DORM AU
Read aftermath here
Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!reader
Word Count: 15.5k
Warnings: SMUT 18+, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it, folks), virgin/virginity talk, losing virginity (sam the v card thief 🫣), praise kink, pet names, sexual anxiety/performance anxiety, soft gentle sex (fuck me up fr), fluff, swearing, anxiety, embarrassing crushes, sorry if I miss any!
😮💨 sorry this took so long folks. it’s a lengthy one, so prepare yourself. i got a bit carried away. soft Sam fucks me up real bad. hope you enjoy this as much as i loved writing it!! as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!!
~
You weren’t sure who he was. You had no idea where he was from, what he was studying, or if he even knew you existed. Still, that didn’t seem to stop the awkward staring, or the blushing cheeks, or even the speeding heart rate every time he came into your line of vision. You hated yourself for the uncontrollable longing you felt for the boy across the hall, knowing that you would forever be too nervous to approach first. The first few months of your university experience were relatively normal; meeting friends, studying relentlessly, and trying to navigate a brand new life that was so foreign from the last. Then, after the novelty of freshman year wore off, and the hallways were routinely more empty than you’d grown used to, you started to run into him.
The first time you saw him, you almost missed him. You only noticed the back of his head as he disappeared around the corner. But, almost as if fate was playing a sick trick on you, he happened to forget something in his room. When he came back around the corner, giving you the opportunity to see his face, it felt as though you’d received a punch to the stomach. Thankfully, he was in too much of a rush to notice your staring. His long, brown hair looked messy, yet perfectly styled around his slender face. His jawline was sharp, angled gracefully into a perfect chin. The space just above held his lips, a permanent upturn in the corner adorned on them, although barely noticeable in passing. His brown eyes looked inviting, a colour you could spend all day lost in. Once he passed you, you knew it was too late; you’d already fallen for him, and there was no escape.
Perhaps it was because you came from a small town, one where all of the boys looked like the same person, just in a different font. You’d never met a boy who caught your eye quite like he did. He had a charming aura without even speaking, which was impossible to attain, according to your standards. You never really wasted time on dating, more or less finding it pointless. You were well aware there was no person to find in your town that would work out long-term. You were never a date for heartbreak type, understanding that there was no need of having a relationship if you start it with a pre-existing condition that it will inevitably end. You had a few bad experiences with the boys you’d given a chance, and never tried again. It wasn’t worth the hurt, or the trouble, so you kept to yourself. But, whatever it was about the boy across the hall, you were certain if you ever got the chance, you’d want it to last a lifetime.
After the initial shock of seeing him, you seemed to notice him everywhere. Every time you left your room, his door was open, or he was in the hallway talking to his friends. He was always running into you at meal hall, taking post in your favourite spots in the library, and even in some of your classes. You had no idea how you’d gone so long without noticing him, because now, he never ceased to exist in your mind and your life. You’d never managed to get the nerve to speak with him, or even muster a wave when he passed by. The most the two of you shared was a smile each morning; which admittedly, made your day a whole lot better every time. As unfortunate as it was, the two of you had mastered the art of remaining strangers despite the constant desire to be more.
You never verbalized your feelings to anyone, not your friends, or even yourself. You thought it was a bit ridiculous to be infatuated with someone solely based on looks. Yet, you found yourself creating a fabricated version of him, one that you deducted based on what you noticed over the passing weeks. One where he was funny, in a sarcastic or a goofy type of way. One where he was very laid back, but very involved in the lives of the people he loved. And the worst one of all; one where he was fantastic in bed. You thought it was alright to daydream, even if you would never know for certain in this lifetime.
Despite your mostly quiet pining, everybody around you was well aware of how you felt about mystery boy. Your friends seemed to take extra measures to point him out in a public setting, or ‘unintentionally’ cross paths with him. They never admitted it, but you knew what they were doing. Instead of fighting about it, which would only give them the answer they so desperately wanted from you, you laughed alongside them at the ‘strange coincidences’. Although, one thing inherently positive that came from the whole ordeal, was that you’d made acquaintance’s with his best friend, Danny. You’d found out that he was also in a few of your classes, and lived on the floor above you.
He occasionally stopped by your room for a quick chat, or some help with projects. He was friendly, and tall, and quite attractive, too. You never mentioned his friend that lived across the hall, and he didn’t, either. As far as you were concerned, your friendship with Danny would remain just as such, with no hidden implications about the beautiful boy he spent most his time with. Never once would you ever want to make him feel like you’d become friends with him just to get closer to his best friend, because you didn’t. Any hello, or how are you, or any of the conversations you’d shared had always been because you wanted to talk to him. You liked him, and just so happened to find it much easier to strike conversations with him, too.
You walked down the hallway, pushing your way through the swarms of people preparing to leave for spring break. That Friday marked the end of classes for a week, meaning that lots of people were either packing up to return home for a few days, or headed somewhere much warmer to drink themselves into oblivion. You had opted to stay for the week, finding no real desire to visit your family, and having no available funds to travel the world. All of your friends were leaving, presenting a fantastic opportunity for you to catch up on some schoolwork. You keyed into your room, dropping your bag on your bed and kicking your shoes off. You threw on your slippers and took your hair down from its clip.
You walked into your bathroom, seeing a note stuck on the mirror. You pulled it off, reading over the scribbled words. Your suite mate had left for the week, wishing you a good time and telling you she’d see you soon. You smiled, slipping it into your pocket to add to your collection of first-year memorabilia. You had an elaborate final project planned for your introductory art class, and you were collecting as many pieces to add to it as possible, wanting nothing more than to make a showstopper. You fixed your makeup in the mirror and combed through your hair with your fingers, trying to sharpen yourself up after a long day of classes. As you returned to your room, you heard a knock on your door.
When you opened it, you saw a familiar, smiling face. “Well hello.” You said, pulling the door open fully.
“Hey, Picasso.” Danny greeted. “What are you up to?”
“Just got back, actually. I stayed late at the studio. Trying to get my practical piece done for my painting class.”
“I see. Have you started the essay for poetry?” You shook your head, stomach sinking at the thought.
“I was going to start that this weekend. I just picked my topic. I’ve got a couple years worth of Shakespeare sonnets to read.” Danny was an English major, and you were an arts major, but your classes seemed to cross due to your minor in writing.
“That’s such a cop out topic,” He teased, leaning against the door frame. “And it’s spring break, aren’t you supposed to be having fun?”
“Fuck you.” You laughed, waving your hand to invite him inside. “Spring break is only fun for rich kids taking business majors.” You joked.
“Us arts kids know how to have fun, too, you know. We don’t have to get on a plane to do that.” He reminded you, walking inside and taking a seat on your bed.
“Well, what about you, then? Any big plans?”
“Frankenmuth.” He said, trying to make it sound more exciting than it was. You raised an eyebrow at him, expecting something more to the statement, but that was all he said.
“Enthralling.” You laughed, taking a seat in your desk chair. You watched the people pass by in the hallway, no real thoughts in your head. “Just you going?” You asked, eyes falling on the door closed just across from yours.
“Yeah, my friends are gonna stay here. Just thought I’d go back and visit the parents for a few days. Don’t think I’m staying the whole week.”
“Nothing wrong with that, Danny boy.” You said, flipping your laptop open that was sitting on your desk. “When are you leaving?”
“Tonight, probably. I like driving at night.” You were okay with that, completely agreeing with his statement. There was something very peaceful about driving in the dark, especially when the roads are mostly barren. It was almost like time stood still. You knew the drive wasn’t too long for him, so you had faith he would be alright. “That’s why I came to see you.”
“You’re so sweet,” you grinned, opening Netflix and throwing on the most recently watched show. “Gonna miss me?”
“Of course, Picasso.” He said as if it were obvious. “Come with me, if you want.” He offered.
“You wouldn’t want me to tag along, your parents might like me too much.” He laughed at your words.
“And that’s a problem?”
“You wanna listen to them ask about me for the rest of your life?” You teased.
“Doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.” He shrugged.
“You’re too nice for your own good.” You chuckled. “As much as I would love to spend reading week with you, I very much need access to an art studio and shitty, free coffee refills from the library.”
“I know,” he assured you. “If you change your mind, offers there.”
“Thanks, Danny.” You said, more sincerity in your tone than before.
“The reason I came down here though, was to see if you wanted to grab dinner with us before I leave.”
“Us?” You questioned, cocking your head to the side.
“Yeah, me and Sam. I know you told me your friends already left, so I thought maybe you’d like some company.”
“Oh, so it’s a pity invite?” You smirked. He rolled his eyes.
“No, I want you to come. Thought that was kind of obvious.”
“Just pulling your leg.” You assured him. “Uh, who’s Sam?” You laughed, feeling a little ridiculous for not knowing. He watched you with confusion, waiting to see if you were joking.
“Sam? Kiszka? Like, the guy who lives across the hall?” He asked, completely baffled. “You don’t know Sam?”
“Oh!” Your cheeks turned crimson. “Yeah, I know who he is. That’s your best friend, right?” Danny nodded. “Yeah, I know him. Just didn’t know his name. Never really spoke to the guy.” You laughed, trying to pass off the awkwardness.
“Fuck, y/n, I thought you guys knew each other! I’m sorry I didn’t introduce him to you.”
“No! Don’t be sorry, Danny.” You waved it off. “I never brought it up, either.”
“That’s weird though, cause he definitely knows you. He knew who you were when I mentioned we were working together on that last poetry assignment. I was under the impression that you guys were neighbourly.” He shrugged, confusion still lingering in his features.
“Oh, uh… I guess my names on my whiteboard. Maybe that’s why. He’s definitely seen me around. We smile at each other and stuff in the halls, but that’s about it.” Danny eyed you almost as if he didn’t believe you.
“Well, he seems pretty fond of you for someone he only smiles at in the hallway.” You felt the blush rise to your cheeks again, embarrassed even at the thought of him mentioning your name. “You do know him, don’t you?”
“No, I swear I’m telling you the truth.” You raised your hands in defence. He watched you, scanning your face for a hint of a lie. After a second, his expression lit up.
“You have a crush on him!” He bellowed, feeling accomplished for finally solving the mystery. Your head whipped to the open door, making sure nobody was in the hallway.
“Shut up!” You hissed, making a move to shut the door. “I do not!” You said once you protected the privacy.
“That’s a lie, Picasso.” He let out a disapproving tsk.
“I don’t even know the guy.” You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, he’s attractive, but I can’t exactly like someone I don’t know.”
“Sure you can, and you do.” He grinned. “And you’ll like him even more after dinner tonight.” He decided.
“So now I don’t have a choice if I go or not?”
“No, not at all. I’ll leave you to get ready. He should be back around 6.” Danny stood, not willing to hear any protests.
“Danny, if you say anything to him, I swear to god I will kill-“
“Lips are sealed, Picasso. See you at six.” He sent you a wink before disappearing out the door. You felt your stomach twist in knots, nervous that Danny was going to mention something to him.
You distracted yourself by scouring your closet for something acceptable to wear. You cursed him for leaving so soon; he didn’t even tell you where you were going. You had no idea if you should dress nice, or casual. As you checked the time, you decided that somewhere in the middle would be suitable. A nice shirt and a pair of black jeans, just to dress it down a bit. You went to the bathroom and quickly ran your curling iron through your hair with no real effort, just to give it a bit of volume. You brushed your teeth and touched up your makeup again, spritzing on some perfume before you walked back to your room. You threw on some jewelry, deciding if you were going to properly meet mystery boy, or Sam, rather, you were going to make a good first impression.
When the clock struck six, there was an insistent knock on your door. When you opened it, Danny was beaming down at you once more. “You clean up good, Picasso.” He complimented. Rarely did he ever see you out of your studio clothes; you were always covered in paint, or plaster, or some other sort of artistic expression. You spent more time in the studio than you did anywhere else. Of course, the workload was heavy even for first year, but you spent a lot of free time there, too. It was great for your mental health, and aside from your projects, you made smaller pieces to sell on the side. Unlimited access to art tools was a huge benefit to going to the university you chose, and your talent allowed you to make some extra money. Making a living off something you loved to do made your university experience a million times better.
“Thanks, Daniel.” You laughed. “Ready to go?” You asked.
“Yeah, you?” You nodded. You threw on a denim jacket, finishing off the outfit. You joined Danny in the hall, looking around to spot Sam. When you didn’t see him, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment.
“Where are we going?” You asked, distracting yourself from the feeling.
“There’s this little Italian restaurant downtown. I’ve been meaning to try it, but never got around to it. Figured tonight was as good as any other night. Is that cool with you?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m not picky.” You assured him.
“Awesome.” He breathed, making a move to the other side of the hallway. He stood before Sam’s door, sending a knock echoing through the air. Within a few seconds, the door swung open to reveal the boy you couldn’t seem to get out of your head. His hair was slightly damp, and the smell of his shampoo hit you almost instantly. He pointed at you without a word, causing you to shoot him a nervous look. He got a small laugh at your reaction.
“You copied my outfit.” He accused, a goofy smile etched onto his expression. You looked down at what you were wearing, then back to him. You were both wearing Jean jackets with a black base layer. After a second, you laughed, too.
“Guess so.” You shrugged, trying to ignore the incessant butterflies running rampant in your stomach. “I’m y/n,” you held a hand out to shake.
“Sam.” He said, reciprocating the gesture. “I guess we’ve never properly introduced ourselves.” He noted.
“Not very neighbourly of us, was it?” You chuckled. His eyes lingered over you, taking in the whole sight before humming an agreement. You desperately tried to fight away the blush rising to your cheeks, but failed miserably. You hoped he didn’t notice.
“I hear from Daniel that you’re quite the artist.” He said, the smile never leaving his face. At his words, the redness on your cheeks completely took over, leaving no doubt that he could see it.
“Modern day Picasso, actually.” Danny corrected.
“You’ll have to show me, sometime.” Sam’s tone was soft, no tone of sarcasm present.
“Maybe I can sneak you into the studio someday.” You offered.
“It’s a date, then.” He said it so effortlessly, like the words meant nothing, but it set every nerve in your body on fire.
“G-guess so,” you tried to cover up your stutter, but they certainly noticed. You were thankful they didn’t comment on it. Sam stepped into the hallway, closing his door behind him. The three of you ventured towards the exit of the building without another word.
The evening was cool, but not unbearable. By the time you’d walked to the restaurant, you had managed to shake some of the nervousness off. The small chatter and jokes eased the tension by miles, allowing you to enjoy the company rather than fear embarrassment. Danny went inside first, Sam holding the door open for both of you. You muttered a small thank you, disappearing inside of the building. The smell of the food was fantastic, and the decoration and atmosphere was incredibly inviting. Danny noticed a ‘seat yourself’ sign, taking it open himself to lead the group to a booth. He slid in one side and you sat across from him. Sam looked between the two seats, ultimately deciding to sit next to you. The booth was tiny, and as he settled and got comfortable, his leg was gently resting against yours. You felt your heart speed, trying not to focus on the constant contact.
You all ordered after taking a good look over the menu. As you were waiting, Sam turned to you to speak. “So, Picasso,” he started. You turned your head to look at him, strangely pleased at the way the nickname sounded on his tongue. “Any travel plans for the week?”
“Oh, no.” You shook your head. “Love them, but my family drives me crazy, and I have too much work to get done to go anywhere else.” You admitted. “You?”
“No, I thought it was best to stay, too. I get what you mean about the family thing. Love them to death, but peace and quiet is nice, sometimes.” He chuckled. “Daniel will have to go on the journey alone.”
“So you guys are from the same town?” You looked between the two. They both nodded.
“Yeah, best friends since, what, middle school?” Danny laughed.
“Pretty much.” Sam agreed.
“That’s cool, actually. Nice that you guys have a piece of home here with you.”
“What about you? Any piece of home here?” You shook your head.
“No, and thank god there isn’t. Wanted to get the hell out of my hometown and start over. It’s worked so far.” You explained.
“Where are you from?” Sam asked, now intrigued.
“Arizona. Small town in the middle of nowhere, where everybody looks and acts the same and you get chastised if you’re any different.”
“Mind-numbing.” He replied. You nodded, unable to agree more. “Everybody needs originality.”
“Not them, apparently. I couldn’t wait to leave, and I never want to go back.” You almost shuddered at the thought.
“So where after this?” Sam never let his eyes leave you, as if he wanted to engrave every detail of your face in his mind.
“Uh, wherever, I guess. I haven’t really thought about it. I may travel for a while if I can before I commit to anywhere.”
“Smart woman,” he gave a small smile. “Know your options before you settle down.”
“Yeah, I suppose you could look at it that way.” Your conversation was interrupted by the waitress bringing drinks and setting them in front of you. You sipped from your straw, pondering what to speak about, next. “What are you taking, Sam?” You suddenly remembered you hadn’t asked him, yet.
“Oh, music theory.” He said. You eyed him in shock, not expecting that answer.
“What instrument?”
“Piano, on the paper at least.” He laughed. “I like playing bass and guitar more, but I figured they’d be more likely to accept me with piano as my focus.”
“Smart move.” You pondered the information for a moment. “Listen to this one,” you caught both of their attention. “So, Picasso, Shakespeare and Billy Joel walk into an Italian restaurant,” you started, causing a chorus of laughter from both boys.
“You play a piano once and you can never escape the Billy Joel jokes.” Sam shook his head, ghost of a laugh still lingering on his lips. You couldn’t help but admire him, feeling the overwhelming curiosity of wondering what it would be like to kiss him.
“You’ll be alright, piano man.” Danny assured him.
“Yeah, you can even sing us a song, if you want. That might make you feel better.” He shot you a look of warning, but there was visible humour laced in it. The both of you were feeling the nervous tension melt away more by the second.
The time passed too quickly for your liking; the meal was fantastic and the company was even better. When the time to leave came around, you were begging the clock just for another minute. You had spent the whole night beating yourself up for not getting over your fear and speaking with Sam sooner. Aside from him being incredibly attractive, he was funny, and charming, and quite sweet, too. You felt like you’d missed out on a lot. Even if nothing romantic happened, you’d could consider yourself content just being his friend. When the waitress brought the bills over, Sam took it upon himself to ensure you couldn’t get your hands on the debit machine. As you all filtered back outside into the cool night air, your feeling of nervousness returned. Looking at Sam, how the glow from the street lights casted over his face, how his hair flowed in solidarity, messy but perfect all in one, made you realize that knowing him only made the desire so much stronger.
Somewhere deep down you hoped he was an asshole, so you could finally shake the hopeless feeling of need for him. The more you talked to him, the more you fell for the goofiness of his aura, the humour he wore so proudly, or the kindness permanently anchored behind his words. He was more than just a pretty face, and to you, it was devastating. The last thing you wanted was to fall for someone, but you were well aware that it had happened long before your night of pasta critique. “You headed back to dorm?” Sam asked, his hand on your upper arm breaking you from your thoughts. You swallowed hard, trying to shake off your brains’ incessant reminders of what it felt like to be touched by him.
“Yeah,” you nodded.
“I’m headed out, now, I think.” Danny said, looking between the two of you. “Packed the car earlier, so I should hit the road.”
“Oh,” you breathed, trying to keep your eyes on him, and him only. “Which lot are you parked in?”
“The one by our building. I’ll walk back with you guys.” You nodded at his words, feeling a sudden rush of relief knowing you wouldn’t have to walk alone with Sam. Not that you would mind being alone with him, more of a fear of embarrassing yourself somehow. The three of you started the short walk with few words exchanged in the process. When you reached the entrance to the parking lot, you all stopped to bid a farewell.
Danny pulled you into a quick hug, thanking you for going to dinner. He hugged Sam, letting him know he’d text him when he was back home. “Might text for poetry help.” You smiled at him.
“You could text me just to say hi, too, you know.” Danny reminded.
“That is my way of saying hi.” You laughed. “Too nervous to be upfront.”
“No need for that, Picasso. I’ll see you guys soon.” He promised. You and Sam waved goodbye as he parted from the trio, leaving the two of you to yourselves. You kept your eyes glued to the ground, wanting to look anywhere other than his beautiful face.
“You have anywhere to be?” Sam eventually spoke. You found the courage to meet his eyes, feeling the butterflies erupt in your stomach once more.
“I was thinking about heading to the studio, actually.” You very much enjoyed your 24/7 access to the art building. It made your usually boring weekends a bit more enjoyable.
“Care for some company?” He smiled.
“You trying to get me in trouble, piano man?” You smirked.
“Nobody will ever know I was there.” He promised. You pondered the idea, realizing that it was more than likely nobody would be there, anyway. It was usually quite barren in the evenings, even more so considering the week-long holiday.
“Okay.” You nodded, holding your hand out for him to grab. “Come on.” He wasted no time slipping his hand into yours. You took off in a run back to the dorm with him following closely behind. You both made it to the front entrance of the building, keying in and immediately running to your rooms. “I just have to change.” You told him before disappearing into your room. You quickly changed into your work clothes, realizing how embarrassing the new outfit was. There was old paint stains on the t-shirt and jeans, years worth of artistic memories begging to be washed away. You didn’t waste too much time dwelling, too eager to be back in Sam’s company.
You were nervous to be alone with him, but the thrill of seclusion with him was overshadowing anything else. You thought maybe you’d be able to unravel some of the mystery, to get a chance to hear about his stories and memories that were hidden away. When you went back into the hallway, Sam was waiting for you. He had also changed into different clothes, a pair of sweatpants and a tattered old band shirt with the logo worn down to just a shadow. He had a sly smile graced his lips. “Ready?” You breathed. He gave a nod, silently hoping you’d reach out for his hand again. When you started walking down the hall, he followed after you, only momentary disappointment taking over.
You walked side by side to the art building, buzzing with unspoken excitement. When you reached the doorway, you scanned your access card on the reader and the lock clicked open. As you pulled on the handle, you looked back at him and pressed a finger to your lips, signalling for him to stay quiet, just in case anyone else was around. Regular students were allowed in the art building during office hours, but art students were the only ones granted access outside of normal school times. You were sure you’d only get a slap on the wrist if someone realized he wasn’t an art student, but you still didn’t want to take the chance. He nodded, ensuring he wouldn’t make a peep. You took his hand again, leading him inside and directly to the stairwell to the basement.
You took a sigh of relief when you let the studio door close behind you. You went right to your small locker where you stored your paint supplies and brushes. You unlocked it with a tiny key you kept around your neck. You pulled out your belongings, nodding Sam in the direction of the main room. The bright fluorescent lights were nothing new to you, but it seemed like it almost caught him off guard. You set your stuff down on a desk and grabbed an easel, carrying it over to where you were planning to sit. “I’ll be right back.” You told him, walking off to a side room. You opened the door, flicking the light on in the small storage space. You grabbed your large canvas, careful not to bump the front of it, worried it still may not have completely dried. You took it back out to the main room and propped it up on the easel, pulling a stool in front of it.
Sam moved a second chair over, sitting beside you. His eyes drifted over the artwork, scanning it intently and drinking up every detail like he needed it to survive. “I see why Danny calls you Picasso, now.” He mumbled, still looking over all of the details. You felt the redness creep up on your cheeks again, flattered at his compliment. “This place anything special to you, or just a stock photo?” There was a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Well, the cabin is. It’s my family’s. We spent a lot of time up there when I was a kid. The background is pretty dramatized, cause my inspiration pictures were a little bland.” You chuckled. “We’ve been working on landscapes, so I figured I would paint something meaningful.” The large oil painting had the image of the aforementioned cabin nestled in a plot of trees. The leaves were radiating the colours of autumn, and the neutral mountains in the background made the colours stand out. A small stream flowed through the mountain valley, and birds floated through the air. There were patches of flowery grass and bushes covering the ground. The outline was finished, and you’d been working on the intimate details of the piece. You were estimating only a few more hours of work, eager to have this finished so you could move on to the next project.
“It’s stunning.” He said, moving back to look at you again.
“Thanks,” your voice was soft, full of gratitude.
“Have you always wanted to be an artist?” He asked. You thought about the question, pondering the appropriate answer.
“I always loved art, but don’t think I actually decided to study it until late into high school. I never thought I’d be able to make it, but then I entered a few contests and won, and I guess it kind of kick started the process of getting here. At first, my parents weren’t super supportive of the idea. I think they’d rather me be a doctor or a lawyer, but they knew it would only make me miserable. Now that they see what I’m doing, and how happy it makes me, they’re a bit more on board. Their encouragement really helped me feel like I was supposed to be here.” You explained. “Deep down, I probably always knew I would do art for a living, but I fought it for a long time. It’s not really regarded as a ‘profession’, and I think that discouraged me for a long time.”
“Don’t ever feel that way again.” He shook his head, looking back towards the canvas. “Someone with talent like this should never second guess themselves.” You swallowed hard, having a difficult time digesting such a compliment. “This is the type of stuff to end up in galleries.”
“You’ll have to let me design your album art when you release your EP, then.” You smiled.
“You haven’t even heard me play yet.” He brushed the comment off, a small laugh lingering in his words.
“Don’t have to, I just know.” You said, pulling out your glass palate. You sifted through your bag of paints, choosing the colours carefully. You squeezed small amounts on the surface, looking back towards the large painting. You started to work, unsure of where the conversation would lead to next.
“What music do you like?” He asked, watching your hands as you painted.
“Everything.” You said, never losing your focus. “Not picky.”
“You have to have a favourite.” He inquired. A smile tugged at your lips.
“Well, yeah.” You rolled your eyes.
“What is it, then?” He laughed, eyes moving to your face.
“Guess.” You thought if he wanted to get to know you, he could work for it, first. At least a little bit.
“You’re a classical person, aren’t you?” You looked at him through the corner of your eyes, furrowing your eyebrows slightly.
“Insulting,” you replied. “You think I’m that boring?” You teased.
“Worth a shot.” He shrugged. “Rock?”
“Yeah,” you nodded. “I like metal, too, but I mostly stick with rock.”
“Never would have guessed the metal part.” His surprise was showing in his expression.
“Yeah, well, I have lots of tricks up my sleeve.” You chuckled, wiping your brush on your apron.
“Can’t wait to figure them out.” His words were smooth, concise, even, as if he was waiting to deliver the line the whole night. Your stomach fluttered with the thought of him wanting to know more about you. You both fell into a silence, eventually playing music off your phone to fill the stale air. You were fine without words exchanged; you enjoyed him sitting with you while you worked. He didn’t seem to mind either, enthralled in your technique. “What’s your favourite thing to paint?” He eventually disturbed the quiet.
“I like nature. It’s always so calming to recreate. So many different options, and imperfections don’t cause an issue, because nature isn’t perfect. I think that’s what makes it beautiful.” You explained. He nodded along, hoping you would keep talking. You noticed, feeling less reserved about your ramblings, realizing you wanted to share them with him. “Nature is the only constant. It was here from the beginning, and it will be here long after we die, even if it’s changed million times. It carries infinite memories from every era, and it’s our only consistency in this lifetime, and the ones previous. I like the idea of a timeless art piece. If someone looks at this a hundred years from now, they’ll be able to appreciate it the same way we can. Nobody will have to wonder about the origins of the picture. People die, animals pass, but the earth always outlives us. When the day comes and it dies, too, we go with it.” He nodded again, studying your face. He had been for a while, although you hadn’t really noticed. He was watching the way your eyes focused when you were doing delicate work, or how your lips pursed when your brush wasn’t doing exactly what you wanted it to. He also noticed every time you let out a minuscule sigh, content with the flow of the paint, or when you smiled when a familiar song came on the shuffle. He’d been studying you just as much as you did, him, admiring you just the same. He was enthralled in your presence, also never expecting to have you this close to him.
The art of your silent admiration had left little room for belief of a chance for it to happen so intimately. He was basking in the moment, in you. The smell of the paint and your perfume was embedding the memory in his brain forever. The beauty in your passion was electrifying, and he was certain he could watch it all day. He also felt the same when he passed you in the hallways, and caught himself peeking into your room when you had the door open. He felt the same fluster when you smiled at him, and awaited the conversations when Danny spoke your name. He also struggled with the idea of talking to you first, worried about rejection or embarrassment. From what he’d seen, you never showed an inkling of interest, and he didn’t want to come off in the wrong way. When Danny brought the idea of inviting you to dinner, he nearly jumped at the opportunity. Sam’s feelings had also remained quite silent, although his childhood best friend was quick to catch on to the situation. Now with a promise to both of you that your emotions would be kept a secret, it was up to both of you to figure things out. All Danny could do was cheer you on from both sides. “You’ve got a beautiful way of seeing the world.” He noted.
“If you don’t love the earth, you can’t expect it to love you back.” You said, finally turning to look over at him. You were caught off guard at his proximity, noticing he had definitely moved closer since you’d started working. He was sitting a little ahead of you, but his body was turned to be angled towards you. When he caught your surprised look, he gave a small smile.
“I thought you wanted to come and see the art, Sam.” You teased, finding the confidence to make a quick pass about his position.
“I’m looking at it.” He quipped back without a moment of hesitation. You opened your mouth to reply, but couldn’t find any words, flustered at the proclamation. Without another word, he turned to look back at the canvas, leaving you to wonder if his words were satire, or if they had meaning. You took a few seconds to recover, but ultimately pushed the statement to the back of your mind. You continued on, dabbing blots of paint onto the picture and blending it gently. “You know, if you’re looking for a customer, I’d be happy to take this off your hands when you’re finished.”
“You couldn’t afford me, Kiszka.” You joked, using the tip of your finger to get a better blend on a saturated area. You fixed it up with a brush afterwards.
“You think so?” He hummed, not bothering to turn and face you.
“I know so.” You told him, wiping your hand on the apron. You weren’t sure if it was the months of tension catching up to you, or the exhaustion, or the smell of his cologne, but you were desperate for him to turn and face you again. “If you want it, it’s yours.” You breathed, deciding to drop the facade. “Once it’s graded, I have nowhere to put it.”
“How much do you want for it?” He asked, still facing away from you.
“Free, for you.” You said softly, a smile creeping up on you.
“Absolutely not.” He turned now, finally meeting your eyes. “You worked hard on it, you used your own materials. I’m giving you something for it.” He said, finality dripping in his tone. You couldn’t help but shift under his gaze, the authority sending a pleasant jolt of electricity through you.
“Think of it as a token of friendship.” You whispered, unable to stop yourself from looking over his features. The admiration in your eyes was impossible to overlook.
“Friendship?” He questioned after a moment of silence, a new sense of confidence washing over him. “Ouch,” he said, the same cocky smirk playing on the corner of his mouth. You bit the inside of your lip, feeling your breath catch in your throat. You weren’t so willing to fall for the idea that he may have felt the same way. Instead of turning away, he watched you, hoping you’d make a notion of reciprocation. After the shock wore off, you started to understand that he was being serious.
“Courtship?” You corrected yourself, feeling your heart drumming against your chest.
“I think I like that better,” he whispered, eyes falling down to your lips for a second before correcting himself. “Do you?”
“I certainly don’t have an issue with it.” You admitted. He watched you carefully, almost as if he was nervous to advance the situation any further. After a moment of deliberation, he reached his hand up and cupped your cheek, using his thumb to wipe off a smudge of paint.
“Some paint,” he informed you.
“Oh,” you breathed, eyes never leaving him. “Did you get it all?” He inspected further, tucking some hair behind your ear as he did so.
“Mm, I think I missed a spot.” He deducted. You set your palate and brush on the table, not wanting to miss a moment of him. He advanced further, but only slightly, pretending to look harder. You couldn’t fight back a smile. “Want me to get it?” He looked back up at your eyes, hand never moving from your cheek.
“Okay,” you nodded, playing into his act.
“You sure?” He asked again, mostly to tease, but he also wanted to ensure you were comfortable.
“Positive.” You promised. Without wasting any more time, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours.
It was soft, but his lips felt like they were burning into your skin. You reached your own hand out, letting it fall to the back of his neck. You pulled him closer, careful not to get any paint on his clothes in the process. He ran his tongue across your bottom lip, practically begging for more. You were quick to respond, parting your lips and allowing him to deepen the kiss. His other hand slipped to your hip, letting his fingers gently sink into the skin. When he pulled away, you were both breathless and craving more. He let his forehead rest on yours, dreading putting any more distance between your bodies. You gave a smile, unsure of what else you could do to express how you felt. It was like months of torture finally derived into pleasure. No more watching him as he walked past, wondering about his name or what it would be like to say it, or hear him say yours. No more wondering what it felt like to be kissed by him, because now, you knew, and it was way better than you ever imagined. “I’m not sure if I got it.” He admitted, causing a giggle from you. He pulled you in for another kiss, this one shorter and more lighthearted.
“Is it gone?” You asked, intoxicated from the feeling of his lips.
“If I said no, would you believe me?” You could hear his smile in his words.
“Yeah, just because I’d like to kiss you again, though.” His thumb trailed over your cheek as he rested his hand on your jaw. He placed a small peck on your lips, causing you to hum in satisfaction. “I wanted to do that for a really long time.” You said. He pulled back a bit, taking in your expression.
“Me, too.” He chuckled.
“Really?” He gave a nod.
“Since the first time I saw you.”
“Me, too.” You copied his earlier statement. “It’s been a long couple months of admiring you from a distance.”
“Why’d you never say anything?” He questioned, hand still keeping a delicate hold on your face.
“I was scared. Thought maybe you’d think I was weird, or you’d be an asshole. You’re too pretty to be nice, too. It’s not fair.” You laughed. “I didn’t even think you knew I existed.”
“How could I not?” He was almost offended at the thought. You shrugged your shoulders. “You’re the only person I’ve been looking at.” You felt your cheeks heat up again, angry that you couldn’t hide your emotion. “Danny’s been begging me to talk to you for weeks, but I guess I was scared, too.” It clicked in your brain, suddenly making sense why he was so excited when you told him you thought Sam was cute.
“Doesn’t matter,” You told him “We know now.” He nodded, agreeing silently. “Did you want to go back to my room, maybe?” You realized your statement was a bit forward only after you’d said it, but you didn’t really care. You were too caught up in the moment to worry about moving too fast, or any what-if’s. Your small amount of worry was subsided when he immediately stood, holding his hand out to you. You took it, letting him help you stand.
Both of you made quick work at cleaning up the mess you made, buzzing with excitement at the idea of being alone together. Within a few minutes, you had his hand in yours, and you were guiding him back through the unfamiliar building. You checked the main floor before you emerged, making sure there was no security checking out the place. You knew they could be assholes, and almost always asked for an access pass. When you deducted the coast was clear, you pulled him through the lobby and out the front door. You were both in a fit of giggles by the time you reached the dorm building, fumbling with keycards to let yourselves in. The hallways were barren, almost all of the students already gone for their spring trips. It made your journey all the faster, allowing you to make it to your room in record time without any interruption.
You opened the door for him, motioning got him to go inside first. He did so, eyes immediately taking in the sight. He’d caught glimpses of your room, but never got the chance to really see it. There was artwork plastered over the walls, some yours and some from your friends, or even reprints of famous artists. There were ambient lights bordering the ceilings, set to a constant colour. There were paintbrushes and textbooks littering your desk, along with a few empty coffee cups. There were a plethora of Polaroids hung on your bulletin board, a receipt book of memories from the lifetime he wanted to so badly know about. The smell of your perfume lingered in the air and your bed, although messy, looked extraordinarily inviting.
You gave him a small smile, nervous about what he was thinking. “I love it in here.” He said, almost like he could read your mind. You let out a small sigh of relief. His eyes drifted towards the small clay sculptures you’d been messing around with. He leaned closer, smiling at the intricate detail.
“You should come over more often, then.” You smiled.
“I think you’re gonna have a hard time getting rid of me, now.” He laughed. The sound was more beautiful than any you’d heard before.
“Fine by me.” You admitted. “I’m gonna change out of these. Just give me a minute.” He nodded, watching you as you picked some clothes from your closet. You brought them to the bathroom, changing into the shorts and t-shirt. You looked at yourself in the mirror, nearly wincing at the sight. You quickly fixed your makeup with your fingers and brushed your teeth. You sprayed a bit more perfume on the new clothes, and rejoined him. He was still standing awkwardly by your desk, unsure of where to sit. “You can sit on the bed.” You smiled, finding the timidity cute.
“Oh, okay.” He said, looking towards the mattress and sitting down.
“Did you want to watch a movie?” You asked.
“Sure.” He grinned. You went to your laptop, quickly logging in and pulling up Netflix. “I don’t care what we watch.” He admitted. You put on one of the first recommended movies, turning the volume up slightly. You climbed into bed next to him, propping a pillow against the wall and leaning back. He did the same, settling next to you, much closer than anyone else would normally sit.
The intro credits rolled for the movie, giving you a moment to relax from the close proximity. You leaned into him slightly, but not enough to make it obvious. You pulled your comforter over your legs, snuggling into the warmth. You let your hand rest on top of the blanket as you eyed his sitting in his lap. You’d been on dates, but not once since you moved away from your hometown had you felt so adolescent in romance. It felt like you were going through the motions for the first time, completely blind in knowledge. You had no idea how to approach him, how to initiate any of the intimacy you’d been yearning for. You hadn’t noticed you were staring at him, but he certainly did. He looked over to you, giving you a small, soft smile. In response, it made your heart skip a beat.
He took the opportunity to reach over and slip his hand into yours, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. The contact immediately subsided your anxiety, and you finally felt the ability to focus on the screen. After a few moments, you even found the courage to rest your head on his shoulder. The both of you watched the movie in silence, his thumb rubbing small circles over the back of your hand while you did so. As the film progressed, so did your comfortability. By the middle of it, you both had shifted dramatically. He was laying down, and you were resting atop of him, head nestled in his chest. His palm was firmly planted on your lower back, and his other gently tracing shapes into your arm. If you weren’t so energized from being so close to him, you were certain you could fall asleep in that position.
His hand that was on your arm moved to your face, fingers gently pushing your hair away. You closed your eyes, revelling in the feeling. He gently combed through the knots before settling his hand back on your cheek. He guided you to look up at him, sending a smile your way. You returned it, thinking that you would be fine if his face was the only one you could ever see again. “Thanks for inviting me over.” He said, admiring every feature. He knew that you were beautiful from every time he’d seen you before that night, but he realized that he’d been missing out on the best part. Having you laying with him, sleepiness laced in your eyes, made him realize that there was never a time where you were more beautiful. The innocent intimacy was overwhelming in the best possible way, leaving him to believe he could die happy as long as he got to hold you.
“It’s crazy, you know.” You sighed, propping yourself up on your elbow to get a better look at him.
“Hmm?” He replied, fingers dancing in the ends of your hair.
“I spent so long with this stupid little crush. I think because of it, I kind of put you on a pedestal. I forgot you were a person, too. I never believed that I could ever be with you like this. It always felt impossible.”
“I did the same thing.” He admitted, feeling better about it knowing you felt that way, too. “It’s weird. Dating in college is so much different than high school.” He chuckled. You nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly.
“It feels more… adult. In high school, I had to ask my parents permission to go on a date. Now, I can just invite you over whenever I want.” You thought aloud. “But I don’t feel any different. I still feel the same as I did a year ago.”
“Yeah,” he breathed. “It’s strange, knowing that we’re supposed to be adults, now. Especially when I still feel like a kid.”
“I think it’s a good buffer period,” you shrugged. “Pretend to be adults, get the experience, but still be able to make mistakes and learn from them. We get to practice living alone and being responsible, but still get to do stupid shit.” He laughed at your comment, but understood your point.
“I like you, Picasso.” He said, his hand landing on the back of your neck. You smiled at the words.
“I like you, too.” You admitted, eyes trailing over his face in admiration.
“I think it would be cool if we could do stupid shit and learn from our mistakes… together.” He mumbled, gaze focused only on you.
“What are you saying, Billy Joel?” You smirked as he rolled his eyes at the nickname.
“I’m saying,” he paused, eyes flickering down to your lips for a moment. “I would like to do this…. more often.” He articulated his words carefully, a bit nervous to say them.
“I think that would be quite alright.” You deducted. He visibly relaxed at your confirmation. “I… uh, I’m not good at this stuff.” You admitted.
“That’s okay.” He said, tangling his fingers in the hair at the base of your skull. He gently massaged his fingers over your scalp, causing a slight hum of pleasure from you. “That’s part of the making mistakes and learning from them, right?”
“Yeah,” you whispered, entranced in the feeling of him touching you. “I’ve never really had a boyfriend, or anything like that. Been on a few dates, but they ended pretty terribly.” You admitted. He cocked his head to the side, studying you as you spoke. “Like I said before, all of the boys from my hometown are all the same. I learned my lesson, and I realized nothing meaningful would ever come from it, so I just… didn’t.”
“You can talk about it, if you want.” He offered.
“There’s really not much to talk about.” You told him, remembering back to your high school years. “I don’t know if it was just the type of people that lived in the town, or if it was a teenage boy thing, but they just cared about getting laid and nothing more. It was unbearable, and I fell for it a few times, but nobody ever cared about me past the surface. I’ve never met a boy who wanted to know me like you do, or would even admit that they liked me out loud, for that matter. Nobody has ever asked me questions about myself, or my art. It was nice being seen as a person rather than a body.” You muttered the last part, hating saying it aloud.
“They have no idea what they missed out on, then.” He said, bringing you closer and placing a kiss on your forehead. “I’ve only known you, well, really known you, for a day. I already know that I’d be more than lucky to have a chance with you.” Your cheeks turned red, luckily covered by the darkness of the room this time. “They didn’t deserve you. Nobody should make you feel like you can only be loved in privacy. You’re worth more than that.” Your eyes fluttered up to meet his as your brain wondered if the interaction was real, or a grandly fabricated dream. You leaned forward, unable to satiate the need to kiss him again.
He accepted the gesture enthusiastically, using his hands to pull you impossibly closer. You brought your hand to his face, cupping his cheek. After a moment, you couldn’t help but want more. You shifted, trying your best not to break the kiss, placing both of your legs on either side of him. He broke away for a second, just long enough to prop himself up against the wall so you wouldn’t be uncomfortable. He wasted no time, capturing you in another kiss. His hands found your hips, fingers holding you firmly but delicately all at once. You snaked your hand to the back of his neck, holding him like you were scared he would get away from you. When you pulled back, you were both breathless with stars dancing in your eyes.
“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” He said quickly, mind still occupied with the thought of kissing you. “I’m okay if we just lay here and talk.”
“I want to if you do.” You assured him, finally feeling the months of tension reach the breaking point.
“Are you sure?” He asked, searching your face for an honest answer.
“Positive.” You promised, making sure he saw you were being genuine. “I just… I’ve never…yeah.” You trailed off, suddenly a bit embarrassed. He watched you, trying to piece together what you were saying. “I’ve never had sex.” You blurted out, realizing he wasn’t fully understanding you. “I mean, I’ve done some stuff, but never…” you breathed, your face burning for a whole new reason.
“Hey, it’s okay.” He reached his hand to your face, keeping your head straight so you would look at him. You were a virgin in all technical terms, only having awkward sexual experiences and moments with failed flings in high school. It wasn’t a virtue thing, more of a feeling of never finding the right person. With him, you felt comfortable, and were certain that it would be enjoyable. You didn’t have to have experience to assume that. You could tell just by looking at him, by how he spoke to you. He cared about your comfortability, and that was a major green flag. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” His tone was firm.
“No, I want to.” You said quickly, making sure he knew. “I just… I want you to have a good time, and I’m just nervous, I think. I don’t want to… disappoint.” He let out a chuckle, shaking his head at the blasphemous idea.
“Yeah, that’s not even a possibility.” He shut the fear down almost as soon as it sprouted. “I’m gonna have a good time because I’m with you.” He promised. “I don’t expect anything, or anything like that. I’m more concerned with you having a good time.” He said, bringing your face down to place a soft kiss on your lips. “We’ll take it slow, okay? Make sure you enjoy yourself.” He mumbled, his mouth only millimetres away from your own. “That sound okay?”
“Yeah,” you breathed, giving a small nod. You could feel his smile from as he kissed you again.
“You can tell me to stop, or slow down, or whatever you need at any point, okay?” He explained when he pulled back. You nodded. “You can tell me what you like, too. Don’t be shy.” You nodded again. “I need to hear the words, baby.”
“Okay.” You verbally confirmed. He tapped your thigh, silently letting you know he wanted you to get up. You did so, allowing him to move over to the side.
“Lay down for me,” he said, his tone had authority but it was incredibly soft, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable. You laid back, eyes locked on his face. You were still anxious, but he was easing it more by the second. He turned onto his side to face you, guiding your face to his once more and connecting your mouths. You kissed him back with more neediness than before, excited by the idea of his hands on you. He slipped his fingers under the hem of your shirt, letting them dance over your skin so you could grow accustom to the feeling.
As he became familiar with the feeling of your body, he took his chance to deepen the kiss. You couldn’t help but let a few small moans of delight out, only fuelling him further. He went slow, working you up to speed. He didn’t want to rush you, or push you too far. He let you take the lead with progressing any further, waiting until you made a move to take an article of clothing away. When you tugged at the hem of his shirt, he moved back from you so he could pull it over his head. You let your eyes fall over his exposed torso, feeling your stomach flutter at the sight. He smiled at your expression, but didn’t say a word in fear of you feeling embarrassed. He made a move towards your waistband, watching your eyes intently as he did so. You gave him a nod of encouragement, letting him know you were okay. He hooked his fingers through the sides and slowly pulled the shorts from your body. You sat up and removed your shirt, too.
His breath caught in his throat at the sight of you in just your undergarments, having to do for a moment just to appreciate the view. “Gorgeous,” he hummed, lowering his head to you once more. He left a trail of gentle kisses across you collarbones, letting his hands trail over your exposed thighs. The minuscule touches were driving you crazy; you had no idea it could feel so good to be admired by someone. His lips moved downward, skipping over your chest and landing on your sternum. He started to get sloppier the further he progressed downwards. By the time he reached your navel, you were practically a mess. He looked up at you, eyelids heavy, taking in every detail of you. The way your chest rose and fell while you breathed, the way your lips stayed slightly parted, the way your hand felt tangled in his hair. It was driving him crazy.
He moved up again, motioning for you to lift your back from the bed. You did as he wanted, allowing him to snake his arms around you and unclasp your bra. He pulled it from your body, discarding it carelessly on the floor. He sucked a sharp breath through his teeth when he finally saw the full view. He was nestled between your legs, one hand planted beside you on the mattress, holding him up upright. His other hand returned to you, resting on your rib cage as light as a feather. He looked to you for permission before doing anything else. “I’m okay, I promise. I’ll tell you if I’m not.” You appreciated his consideration, but you were beginning to feel a bit desperate for more. He didn’t say anything, just brought his hand to your breast and brushed his thumb lightly over your hardened nipple.
The feeling was new, but very welcomed. The small touch sent a jolt of emotion through you. You watched him intently, anticipating his next movement. He brought his mouth to your nipple and pulled it into his mouth. You let out a shaky exhale at the sensation. He flicked his tongue over it a few times, really becoming familiar with you. When he pulled away, you couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed at the loss of contact. He smiled at your sigh of discontent. “Feel good?” He hummed.
“Yeah,” you breathed. He sat upright on his knees, bringing both of his hands to your hips and hooking his fingers through your underwear. You bit the inside of your lip, enthusiastic but still a bit nervous. You lifted your hips from the bed, allowing him to pull them off with ease. He tossed them to the floor, not caring where they landed. He was only concerned with you, now fully naked and laying beneath him. He caught sight of your face, noticing that your eyes were looking away from him.
“Hey,” he whispered. You finally found the courage to look up at him. “You okay, beautiful?” You were glad he disregarded your earlier statement, finding it much easier to communicate with him if he initiated it.
“Yeah, just nervous. It’s nothing you’re doing.” You promised.
“You want to stop?” You shook your head, unable to think of a worse idea. He didn’t immediately jump back to action at the expression, but spoke again after a few moments. “We’ll go slow, okay? This is for you. I wanna give you a good time.” You felt a smile growing on your lips at his words.
“Okay,” you affirmed. He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on your lips. You felt like you could live in that moment forever.
“Don’t have to be shy, or nervous. Promise I’m gonna take care of you.” He said as he pulled away. “Just tell me to stop, or slow down if you need to. You’re in charge.” You managed another nod as he sunk back between your legs. He laid on his stomach, head inches from your heat. You felt the anxiety lingering, but it was rapidly overtaken by excitement. He placed a few kisses on the inside of your thighs, one arm snaked under one of your legs and gently caressing the outside of your thigh. He brought his free hand to your cunt, fingers ghosting over the area. He looked up to you as if to ask permission. You gave him another nod, assuring him it was okay.
He slowly advanced, wanting to give you ample time to change your mind if you needed to. When you stayed quiet, eyes watching him with anticipation, he took it as a good sign. He ran his fingers through your folds, letting you get used to the feeling before doing anything else. You bit into the inside of your lip, trying to wrap your head around the unfamiliar sensation. It was definitely different when someone else was touching you, you noted. He gathered some of your arousal on his fingers. He spread the wetness to your clit, bringing his thumb to the sensitive area and slowly rubbing light circles into it. Your breath caught in your throat, the feeling taking you by surprise. His eyes flickered to your face, feeling a bit of satisfaction at the sound. You looked down at him, meeting his gaze and feeling a different type of pleasure at the sight.
“How’s that?” His voice was quiet, barely noticeable if not for your intent focus on his every action. “Does that feel okay?”
“Yeah,” you said, less enthralled in the movement of his hands than you were at the look on his face. He had a small smile playing on his lips, but the admiration for you he held in his eyes was worth more than words. He didn’t speak again, but kept his focus on the pattern of his thumb. He applied a bit more pressure, watching your face for a reaction. You let in a sharp intake of breath, feeling the sensation change from unfamiliar to pleasurable. His jaw clenched slightly, the sound running straight through him and settling in his bones. It was small, barely there, but it was blissful to his ears.
He worked at you for a few moments, gentle and loving with every move. It felt good, the nervousness almost completely gone, but there was enough there for you to hold yourself back. Your noises were limited, mostly from fear of embarrassment. You were so caught up in the worry of looking dumb that you were almost overlooking the scene before you. It didn’t deter him, though. If anything, it only drove him further. He was aching too hear the beautiful sounds begging to be let out, and he’d be damned if he couldn’t get them out of you. You watched him closely, not wanting to miss a moment of his presence. He leaned forward, letting a line of spit fall from his lips onto his fingers. You swallowed hard, the small action sending a rush of pleasure through you.
He ran his fingers through your cunt again, making sure the lubrication didn’t go to waste. His middle finger slowed and eventually stopped just before your entrance. “Tell me if you’re uncomfortable, okay?” He asked, but his tone was more of a demand. You nodded, too caught up in the idea of his fingers almost inside of you to worry about anything else. After a second, he slowly sunk his finger into you, studying you for any sign of discomfort. When you went without protest, he fully pushed his finger in, letting his thumb fall back on your clit. He continued his circles, now adding the stimulation of pumping his finger into you. You let a breathy moan out, unable to hold it back anymore. “That’s it baby,” he practically groaned, ecstatic to hear the noise. “You’re doing s’good.” The praise, although unexpected, was very well received. Knowing that he was enjoying himself solely by pleasuring you was a fantastic feeling. Knowing that he was only concerned with you feeling good was enough to satiate the anxiety.
He continued his pace for a while, eventually adding another finger when you felt you were ready. You were a mess, caught up in the pleasure but worried, too, because you hadn’t felt the creep of an impending orgasm. His hand was steady, never wavering, and his eyes were locked on you. Every so often, he pressed his lips into the skin on your thighs or your hipbones, just as a small act of affection. “Sam, I-I don’t know if I’m gonna cum.” You admitted, voice shaky and a bit defeated.
“You will,” he promised, unfazed by the statement. “Don’t be nervous.”
“I just…” you let out a sigh, frustrated with yourself. “It’s not you, it’s me.” He pulled back, halting his movements.
“I can stop if that’s what you want, baby.” His words were coated with sincerity. “Or are you just worried you can’t cum?” He inquired.
“I don’t want you to stop, I’m having a good time. I just don’t know if I can.” You explained, feeling embarrassment settle in your chest.
“I’ve got all night.” He said, shrugging off the worry. “Can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing.” He gave you a smile.
“I want you to have a good time, too, though.”
“Oh, I am.” His tone changed from gentle to firm. “Don’t worry about that.” You watched him with uncertainty, but the look in his eye was nothing but affirmative of his statement. “Don’t worry about anything. Just lay there and focus on how it feels, okay?” You nodded. “No worries about if you’re gonna cum or not, no worrying about me having a good time, just relax and enjoy the feeling. If you don’t cum, we’ll try again next time.” Your heard sped at the realization that he was planning on this being more than a one-time thing. It was comforting, knowing that he was learning about you so intimately, but wasn’t planning on running. He didn’t want to get your clothes off and never speak to you again like the majority of boys you’d ever known.
“Y-yeah, okay.” You replied. He cocked his head to the side, wondering why the hesitation was so present. “You, uh… next time?” He couldn’t help but grin at your question.
“I mean, yeah, if you want that, of course.”
“Yeah, I do.” You rushed out, hoping you hadn’t made him feel otherwise.
“Then it’s settled.” He hummed. “Not just the sex part, though. The dinner and the hanging out was great, and I’d very much like to do that, too.” You let out a small giggle at his words, finding the explanation cute.
“Me, too.” You assured him.
“Breakfast tomorrow?” He asked, a smirk on the corner of his lips. He started to move his fingers again, taking you by surprise. You let out a gasp at the suddenness, immediately feeling the pleasure return.
“S-sure,” you breathed, giving him a nod. He decided to stop messing with you, wanting to ensure you were as comfortable as you could be. He worked himself back up to his earlier pace, making it nearly impossible for you to think of anything else. He let another trail of spit fall onto his fingers, making sure it wasn’t too dry for you.
After a few moments, you did start to feel a little less insecure. His eyes were watching you, studying every minute detail. He noticed the rise and fall of your chest speed as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of you, the way you occasionally pulled your bottom lip between your teeth in attempt to silence yourself. He watched how your eyebrows furrowed slightly when he brushed over your clit just right, and how your eyes stayed almost permanently shut. He thought you were the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Eventually, a blissful moan slipped from your mouth as his fingers hit the perfect spot. His eyes rolled back slightly, soaking up the sound. “That’s it, baby.” He encouraged you, fingers never stopping.
The words of motivation helped ease your tension. Your stiffness dissipated, your shoulders relaxing back on the pillows a bit. Your neck let your head fall back, leaving you completely at ease for the time being. A few more short-lived moans fell from your lips, all hitting him with a stronger force each time. “Doing so good, princess.” He said, noticing the effect his words had on you last time. “Cum for me, baby. You can do it.” He whispered. The demand went straight to your core, and you started to feel a sensation grow in the pit of your stomach. It was a feeling you’d only ever given yourself; it was way more intense when produced by another person.
“Fuck, Sam.” You whimpered, a gentle warning that you were getting closer. His heart drummed against his chest, clearly excited at the obscene proclamation. He took a risk, removing his thumb from your clit and lowering his head until his lips were touching you. You didn’t realize what he was doing until his tongue darted over the sensitive nerves, causing an involuntarily buck of your hips. He used his hand that was hooked under your leg to hold you down on the mattress.
Your fear of not being able to cum was quickly diminished with the new, even more unfamiliar feeling. It was heavenly. You let a low groan out, feeling the knot in your belly tighten. You slipped your hand down and tangling your fingers in the roots of his hair. He pulled his mouth off you only for a second, just to get one more praise in. “Taste so good, princess.” He said, slipping his thumb back in place of his mouth. You could only whimper in response, already missing the feeling of his tongue. “That’s it, baby. Look at you,” he whispered the last part more to himself than anything else. He only let his eyes hover over your expression for a moment longer, returning his tongue to you.
It didn’t take long to get to where he wanted you to be. Within a few minutes, you were gripping at his hair, panting and moaning, your orgasm begging you to let go. His tongue was moving at a steady pace, and his fingers curled with every re-entry, hitting a spot inside you that nothing ever had before. You let your head fall back, feeling the pressure reach its peak. A wave of pleasure overtook you, setting every nerve in your body on fire. You managed his name through the slur of moans, clenching around his fingers as you came. He only tapered his speed when the intensity began to die down. He removed his mouth first, then slowly pulled his fingers from you. His eyes flickered towards your face, lust clouding his eyes as he did so.
He slowly moved upwards, placing a few kisses over your collarbones and up onto your neck. You finally found the strength to open your eyes and look to him. He caught your gaze and gave you a dopey smile, eyelids heavy and your arousal glistening on his lips. “That’s my beautiful girl,” he hummed, wiping his chin with the back of his hand before leaning in for a kiss. “I’m so proud of you.” He whispered as he parted from you. He placed another kiss on your lips, sweet and full of emotion. The anxiety that had been plaguing you on and off was now gone, replaced solely by a desire for him that you’d never felt for another person before. “Did that feel good?”
“So good, Sammy.” You said, your lips still ghosting over his. You could feel his erection straining against his sweatpants, pressing into your leg.
“My name sounds so good when you say it like that.” He sighed, one hand roaming your exposed torso. His touch was light, tickling the sensitive skin over your rib cage as he did so.
“Thank you,” you whispered, resting your cheek against his, basking in the affection.
“Don’t have to thank me, princess.” He replied. “If anything, I should be thanking you.” You let out a small laugh at his words, finding his gratefulness charming. You reached up and cupped his cheek in your hand, lifting your head to pull him into another kiss. He was hesitant to let you go when you pulled away.
“Do you wanna…?” You trailed off, feeling a bit too embarrassed to finish the sentence.
“Do you?” He asked.
“Yeah,” you breathed, never more sure of yourself in your whole life. He gave you a smile, making a move to stand. He undid the drawstring on his pants, then pulled them down, ridding himself of them and leaving himself clad in only his boxers. You couldn’t help but stare at him, eyes wandering but eventually settling on the bulge barely contained by the fabric. He noticed your stare, a smirk making its way back onto his lips.
“Condoms?” He asked, catching your attention. Your eyes widened, realizing that you didn’t have any.
“Oh, I uh- I didn’t really expect… I don’t..”
“That’s okay,” he chuckled. “I have some in my room. I can go get them.” You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy, realizing that he’d been keeping them for a reason. You pushed the thought away, not wanting to focus on the idea of him being with someone else. He was here with you, and that’s what mattered.
“I, uh, I am on birth control, if you’re clean.” You squeaked, slightly embarrassed at the statement.
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” He said, his tone firm.
“Yeah, I am.” You assured him. “Like I said, as long as you’re clean.” You repeated the earlier comment, just wanting to be sure.
“I am,” he promised. “It’s been a long time since… yeah.” He let out a small laugh. You couldn’t help but feel better knowing he hadn’t been sleeping around, either.
“Then yeah, I’m okay with it.” He gave a nod, making a move to take off his boxers. You watched in admiration, excited to finally see him the same as he was seeing you. He kicked the fabric with the rest of the growing pile of clothes. He stepped back towards the bed, noticing your eyes never leaving him. “You’re… very pretty.” You whispered, unable to find any better words to describe him.
“I think you’re very pretty, too.” He smiled, nestling back between your legs as he grabbed a pillow from beside you. “Lift your hips up, princess.” You did as he said and he slipped the cushion underneath you. “Should make it a bit more comfortable.”
He guided your legs up slightly, not enough to bend you in an awkward position, but enough to make it easier for both of you. “Will it hurt?” You finally blurted out, the question begging to be spoken all night.
“May be a bit uncomfortable at first, but I’m gonna try my best to make sure it doesn’t.” He said, catching your gaze. “We can take it as slow as you want. If you want me to stop, just tell me.”
“Okay.” You replied, voice quiet. You were nervous, but very aware that you were in good hands. It was his only intention to make sure you enjoyed yourself. You watched as he spit on his hand, rubbing himself for a moment.
“You okay?” He asked, wanting to be sure.
“Yeah.”
“Don’t be scared to talk to me, baby.” He reminded. You nodded, eyes only focused on his hand that was he was stroking himself with. He moved a bit closer, letting the tip of his dick rest against your entrance. He let you get used to the feeling before going any further. “You tell me when you’re ready.”
“I am.” You weren’t lying; the anxiety and nervousness was fully expected, but you were more than ready to have sex with him. You were sure of that before you’d even spoken with him, and it was only solidified further when you saw how accommodating he was being with you. He waited for any hesitation, but when none was given, he slowly pushed his hips forward.
You closed your eyes, trying your best to stay relaxed. He only pushed in a few inches, wanting you to adjust before continuing. “That okay?” He asked. You nodded, reaching out for his hand. He took his own from your leg and accepted the offer, intertwining his fingers with yours. He thrusted forward a bit more, studying your expression for a hint of discomfort. When he bottomed out, you let out a small sigh of relief.
“Not as bad as I thought it would be.” You noted. He laughed quietly, happy you thought so.
“You’re doing so good.” He whispered. “You feel so good.” His words sent a jolt of arousal through you, enjoying the praise more than you imagined you would. He slowly built up a pace, moving his hips with caution. Once you’d fully realized the sensation was less than uncomfortable, you relaxed against him. After a few more moments, you began to enjoy the feeling.
“You can go faster,” you sighed, a ghost of a moan in your words. He was hesitant to do so, but he gradually sped his thrusts, admiring your expression. When he clued in to the fact you were enjoying yourself, he couldn’t help but let a groan escape his lips. Your eyes snapped to his face, thinking that was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard. His pleasure ridden expression was enough to induce an orgasm on its own, you deducted.
He reached his hand between your legs, letting his thumb find your clit again. He continued his pace, now applying light pressure onto the sensitive bundle of nerves as he circled his thumb. The combined sensations caused a moan from you. Your fingers tightened against his hand, a silent expression of pleasure. “Fuck, Sam.” You sighed, letting your head fall back onto the pillows.
“Look so pretty like this, baby.” He mumbled, trying to keep the speed of his hips and his hand the same. The pet names were unexpected, but you loved hearing them come from his mouth, especially when they sounded like that. “Wish I could have you like this forever.” He sighed, losing himself to the feeling a bit. It didn’t take long for another knot to form in your belly. With the consistency of his movements, it was much easier to get there than it was the first time. Sam noticed the slight change in your demeanour, the increase in the noises you were making. He focused on your face, wanting to watch you this time, feeling a bit cheated out of the moment the first time. “You think you can cum again, princess?” He asked, eyes burning into you.
“Y-yeah,” you stuttered, looking up at him. “Feels so good, Sammy.”
“Come on, baby.” He sounded as if he were begging you. “Doing so good for me.” With his encouragement, you felt your orgasm creep up again. You tried your best to keep your eyes on him, wanting to appreciate him as much as possible. He sped his thumb slightly, causing your breath to catch in your throat. His gaze never wavered, an unspoken plea for you to let go. It only took a moment before you came the second time. Your head fell back again, eyes screwed shut and mouth permanently agape. His jaw was clenched, holding himself back from his own release at the sound of you crying his name. “That’s it,” he moaned, wishing he could engrave the picture in his mind forever. As much as he wanted to cum, too, he was hoping to get one more out of you before the night came to an end.
The pressure from his thumb lightened, but his thrusts sped. You didn’t have time to recover, unlike the first time. The sensitivity was overtaken by the pleasure of him inside you, making it the only thing you could focus on. You looked back at him, realizing your mistake as soon as you did. He was still staring at you, eyes now a bit feral. The muscles in his jaw were taut, and he was quite unfamiliar to you, now. Although different, not in a bad way. It was intense, but far from menacing. You were captivated in the details of his stare, finding yourself unable to look away. He was breathtaking, and you couldn’t believe you were lucky enough to have him in such a way. You couldn’t believe that you had the power to drive him to such a feeling.
“You can give me one more, baby, I know you can.” His motivation was clouded with a bit of dominance, giving you the impression that he wouldn’t be pleased with himself if he couldn’t give you another orgasm.
“I don’t know, Sammy.” You groaned, unsure of yourself but still fully immersed in the feeling of him inside you.
“You can, princess. You can do it.” His chest was heaving with every breath, partially due to his movement, but more to do with desire. There was a glisten of sweat on his forehead, illuminated by the dim light flooding through the window. You didn’t think you’d be able to cum for the first time, let alone a second, or a third. The only anxiety you had left in your body was one fearing you’d leave him disappointed. Rationally, you knew he’d be content with whatever happened, but the louder part of your brain craved to give him exactly what he wanted. It wasn’t out of fear, but solely because you wanted to. From the minute he’d given you that first stupid smile all those months ago, you knew you wanted to be exactly where you were at that moment, and you’d be damned if you didn’t give it your all.
His patience and gentleness with you the whole night was endearing, but for you, the novelty of it being your first time had worn off, and the months of sexual tension was reaching its peak. You were both completely starved for each other in the best way possible, neither of you wanting to disappoint. Sam kept his pace steady, his thumb pressing into your clit again. To both of you, the idea of another orgasm not being reached was out of the question. “I can, but you have to cum with me.” You begged.
“That’s what I like to hear,” he grunted, letting out a long exhale. He knew that wouldn’t be an issue, he’d been holding himself back from the minute you’d started fucking. He rationed with himself as another string of moans left your lips, forcing himself to believe that waiting would be far more satisfactory than finishing before you. “Cum for me, angel.” The new term of endearment was unlike the others; this one hit you violently, such a graceful term for such a filthy display. You let out a cry of pleasure, your third climax hitting you without warning. It washed over you with necessity, as if you needed it to survive. He finally let go of your hand, fingers finding your hips to hold you on him as he came, too.
The room echoed with sounds of pleasure and obscene words, the essence of the moment settling into the walls and solidifying its place. The memory would never leave, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. He let out a sigh, finally losing his composure and resting gently atop of you. He placed tender kisses along your collarbones, small gestures of affection and appreciation to let you know he still meant everything he said to you. After you both came back to reality, he slowly withdrew from you. He tried to keep the mess minimal as he did so, wanting to keep the cleanup simple so he had more time to hold you before the night was through. “You should go pee, don’t want you to get a UTI.” He mumbled. You managed a nod, sleep calling to you like never before. Your mind and body were beyond exhausted, unable to keep up with the whirlwind of events.
He helped you up and to the bathroom, leaving you to your business. You cleaned yourself up and removed what was left of your makeup before returning to him. He gave you a dopey smile and a kiss on the head before going to do the same. You took a seat on the bed, mind still buzzing with excitement at the thought of what happened. When he came back out, he pulled his boxers back on and picked up his t-shirt from the ground. He handed it to you, almost nervous of rejection. You took the piece of clothing and slipped it over your head, more than happy to be wearing his clothes. “Did… did you maybe want to stay with me tonight?” You asked, nervous he’d say no. He took a seat beside you, pulling you into his arms and laying you both down on the mattress.
“Was hoping you’d ask.” He mumbled, pulling your back to his chest. He nuzzled his head into your neck, not caring about the tickle of your hair on his face.
“Thank you,” you finally said after a few long moments of silence.
“What are you thanking me for?”
“I don’t know,” you laughed. “That was… fantastic. You were fantastic.”
“I’m just happy you had a good time. That’s all I wanted.” He hummed, hand snaking under your shirt to rest on your stomach.
“I really did. I.. uh, wanted to do that for a while.” You said, rolling your eyes at your own awkwardness.
“Oh, yeah, me too.” He said, as if it were obvious. “All year I felt like I was in middle school again, crushing on the prettiest girl who didn’t know I existed.”
“I knew you existed.” You whispered, calmed at the knowledge you’d both been feeling the same way. “I thought the same about you.”
“Seems like we were both a bit dumb, then, Picasso.” You could hear his smile in his words.
“Guess so, piano man.” You both fell into a silence again, but like all the other ones, it was nothing short of comfortable. You felt yourself melt into his touch, sleep begging you to close your eyes.
“You’re okay, though? You’re not sore, or anything? You’d tell me if you were, right?”
“Yeah, I am, Sammy. Promise.” You reassured him. He’d done an excellent job at taking care of you and ensuring you were comfortable. It was the best possible scenario you could have imagined for your first time.
“That’s good, I just want to make sure.” He whispered. You settled into the mattress, prepared to go to bed. “So, if we’re talking experience wise, like a three star review?” He broke the quiet once more, causing both of you to fall into a fit of laughter.
“Mmm, I was thinking more of a five star, actually.” You pretended to ponder.
“Don’t stroke my ego, Picasso.” He dismissed the compliment.
“Maybe we’ll have to try it again sometime, then I can give a proper review.” You moved your hand under your shirt, too, resting it on top of his. He laced your fingers together, more than accepting of the contact.
“I think that would be quite alright.” He placed a kiss to your neck, just below your ear. It sent a shiver down your spine. “So it was good enough to make you want to do it again,” he noted. “I’ll have to put that one on my resume.” You laughed, shaking your head at his antics.
“Goodnight, piano man.” You said, finality in your voice. He propped himself up, trying his best to lean over you for another kiss. You turned your head back to meet his lips, much more confident in the action, now.
“Goodnight, Picasso.” He settled back in behind you, closing his eyes, too. “I can’t wait to take you to breakfast in the morning.” No more words were exchanged, but you both fell into a slumber with a permanent smile stuck on your lips.
#greta van fleet#danny gvf#sam gvf#gvf#danny wagner#jake gvf#jake kiszka#josh gvf#sam kiszka#gvf fic#josh kiszka#greta van fleet smut#greta van fleet fluff#greta van fleet imagine#greta van fleet fic#greta van fleet fanfic#sam kiszka smut#sam kiszka fic#gvf imagine#gvf smut#gvf x reader#sammy gvf#gvf fanfiction#sam kiszka x reader#fic#my fic#my writing#builtbybrokenbells#builtbybrokenbells fic
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For your 200 follower celebration!
💋: I'd like one with with Sirius black! And the number... 58!!!
Congratulations to you on hitting 200! That ought to be a big achievement! I love your work BTW! Keep going!
Show Me
Pairing: Sirius Black x reader
Prompt: moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto the bed
Word count: 678
Warning: suggestive content, implied smut
A/N: im sorry this has been sitting in my inbox forever 😅 trying to stretch my writing muscles by doing a few blurbs before i write the longer requests, thought i'd clear out my inbox while im at it! whoever you are, anon, i thank you for the support and i hope you enjoy the drabble if you see this!
It started as a date. You haven't seen your boyfriend in some time, and the moment your schedules aligned, Sirius declared in his usual fashion that he was taking you out on a date.
In hindsight, you should have known it would end this way, and... maybe you wanted it to. You're dressed in the outfit he loves so much on you, smiled so innocently at him when he came to pick you up and ignored the way his breath hitched the moment he laid eyes on you. Or... well, Sirius believes you're only pretending not to notice.
He hasn't been able to keep his hands off of you all evening. A hand on your back, fingers tracing shapes on your thigh before he forces himself to let up on you slightly, hand reaching for yours, stealing a kiss every chance he gets... even as you leave, he has an arm around your waist, holding you close, smudging a kiss to your hairline paired with softly murmured words you don't catch.
And now...
Now, his lips are on yours before you've even entered your apartment; you're still blindly fumbling for your keys and have to push him away, just for a moment, else you're sure you'll be standing outside all night. He looks confused for a moment, and hurt, but then you're flinging the door open, tugging him inside with you by his belt loops, and the pieces click.
He kicks the door shut with his foot. You barely have time to register the dull slam of the wood before he's pulling you into him—or maybe you're dragging him closer by your hand on his collar—and he's groaning out a "fuck, so fuckin' pretty, darlin', my gorgeous girl-" before your mouths meet again, hot and greedy and wanting.
Sirius backs you up as he kisses you, strong hand gripping your hip. He knows the layout of your apartment well, too well for the way he bumps you against the corner of the dining table to be anything but carelessness. To his credit, he apologizes when you wince, hand moving to soothe the sore spot, but you've already forgotten about the incident, too lost in the way he's kissing you.
God, how you love his kisses. He has a way of kissing you so sweetly, moreso than you expected of a man like him, and that sweetness isn't lost even as his kisses turn deeper, hungry and impatient. Sirius kisses you like he wants you, like you're special, makes you feel like you're valuable, like you're worth it, and... and of course he does, you're all those things to him-
You're not given time to dwell on it, though, not with the way he's filling every corner of your mind. Sirius has quite the personality, too much for some, but you love him all the more for who he is. And right now, he's your breathtakingly handsome boyfriend who's leaning over you, pressing you onto your bed as he settles between your legs, and now your breath is catching in your throat.
"Merlin, look at you. My stunning girlfriend. Most attractive woman I've ever seen," he breathes when he pulls back to simultaneously catch his breath and admire you. You look like a work or art to him, a goddess, with tousled hair and kiss-swollen lips, panting and reaching for him like you miss him even though he's right there. He obliges, his weight pressing you further into the mattress as his teeth graze your pulse, his mouth kissing its way back up to yours. "Bet you did in on purpose, tryin' to test my restraint... darlin', don't you know what uou do to me when you dress up all pretty like that?"
Breathless and not about to admit you chose your outfit with him in mind, though you're certain he knows, you only shrug, and you feel his lips quirk into a smirk just under your jaw.
"Oh, gorgeous, I'm gonna show you just what it does to me."
That he certainly did.
#shayna writes#sirius black x reader#sirius black x y/n#sirius black x you#sirius black x reader fluff#sirius black oneshot#sirius x you#sirius x reader#sirius x y/n#sirius x reader fluff#sirius drabble#sirius blurb#sirius black blurb#sirius black drabble#sirius imagine#sirius black imagine#sirius fic#sirius black fic
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Genshin Men: How They Show Affection (Cyno, Thoma, Kaeya)
Mobile sucks so bad for trying to find gifs for some characters I said fuck it and used still images instead. Anyway, enjoy!
Cyno:
His affection primarily comes in the form of spending time with you. As the General Mahamatra, he doesn’t have a lot of spare time. It’s significant that what little free time he does have, he spends it with you without a second thought.
He doesn’t like going out too much; his job keeps him constantly moving, and being the General Mahamatra he always has a target on his back. Cyno likes to finally slow down when he’s with you. This isn’t to say he wouldn’t take you to get a nice dinner or anything, but he is at his happiest when it’s just you and him.
He will teach you how to play Genius Invocation TCG, but he will always go easy on you when you play, admiring how your face lights up when you win. He also wants an excuse to show off the card art he commissioned from Albedo
On the rare occasion that he has more downtime than usual and he’s feeling particularly affectionate, his favorite thing to do is just lie down and hold you for hours on end
This seems like a blessing; his warm, strong arms wrapped around you, the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat in your ear, his lips occasionally ghosting over your exposed skin….that is, until he breaks out his jokes
For Cyno, this is the perfect opportunity to try out some new material, and you’re his unwilling audience
Cyno: I have a joke that I would like to tell you, (Y/n). Waking up this morning was an eye-opening experience.
Y/N: …
Cyno: No? How about this one: Never discuss infinity with a mathematician, they can go on about it forever.
You have to kiss him as a distraction if you want him to stop, otherwise he will literally go on all day with his jokes
After the first couple of times, Cyno learned that telling jokes to you won him kisses. He totally doesn’t use this fact to his advantage
Thoma:
This man is the walking definition of acts of service
Need help reaching something? Thoma is doing it before you even ask. Hungry? He’ll have a five course meal prepared for you with all of your favorite things. Tired from work? Don’t worry, he’ll have all your chores taken care of so that you can relax
He likes giving physical affection too, but in public it’ll just be a gentle squeeze of your hand or a kiss on the cheek. In private, he’s a bit more touchy; holding you by your waist, peppering kisses anywhere that you will allow, etc
Thoma’s work with the Yashiro Comission always comes first, but he’s very good about balancing his work and your relationship. He never makes you feel like a second choice
He’ll love being able to take you to his favorite spots in Inazuma (that is, if he can go a minute without someone asking him for a favor). He shows you all of the well known sights as well as the unknown ones as well. When he shows you special places that only he knows about is how you know that this man is so in love with you
Thoma will definitely take you to feed the stray animals of Inazuma City weekly. You really get to see his nurturing side come out then with the animals. It almost hurts to watch him, he’s just so sweet.
Kaeya
Despite his flirtatious behavior, Kaeya is a little reserved in his affections with you. A lot of it stems from his own personal trust issues
Even so, in public he WILL have an arm around your shoulder or waist, and straight up pout if you won’t let him
In private he’s more carefree with his physical affection, but you can tell that some of it is just surface level actions, a force of habit as he is a natural flirt
It’s not until you manage to melt the icy wall around his heart that you see the real depth of his affection; his eyes linger on you, smoldering. He gives gentle caresses to your hair, and holds you against his chest as though he were scared of you disappearing if he let go
Despite is initial reserved nature, Kaeya always gives you words of affirmation, although they often come in the form of incessant teasing
Dates with him are actually pretty common. Being the Calvary Captain without calvary, his schedule is pretty flexible. This isn’t to say he doesn’t work hard, but his hard work is always done behind the scenes. He doesn’t want to give you a reason to worry about him anymore than he already does
His favorite thing to do with you is to go to the Angel’s Share and gossip. Yes, gossip, and you two are like old ladies together in the thrill of unravelling the drama around Mondstat, and there is a lot of it to go around.
You two never bring about any harm with this, but it’s fun for him to teach you ways on how to read people and collect information, and he gets to have both work and pleasure rolled into one as he listens into conversations for any intel he may need
#genshin headcanons#genshin#genshin imagines#genshin impact#genshin x reader#reader insert#kaeya x reader#cyno x reader#cyno#kaeya#Thoma#thoma x reader#genshin headcanon#genshin imagine#genshin impact imagine#kaeya alberich
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Lazy Mornings
You wake up with only Layla sharing your bed and decide to enjoy the time together.
Part of both my Loving You (Plural) series and one of my entries for the Moon Knight Bingo.
AO3 [MASTERLIST]
Body Worship - Moon Knight Bingo
tags: gn!reader | body worship | nipple play | cunnilingus | polyamory | the Moon Boys are mentioned but don't appear in this one | mainly me waxing poetically about how fucking gorgeous Layla is
ships: Layla El Faouly/Reader
tagged: @spacecowboyhotch @moonknight-events @juneknight @eyelessfaces
"I won't lie and say I am not happy about having you all to myself for once," Layla murmurs in between yawns.
You snort and shake your head against your pillow. Layla just grins at you, happy to have made you laugh. She's not wrong though. It's become a rarity that you get to spend time with only one of your lovers nowadays. You love having all of them around and yet it's nice to have the focus of one of them solely on you for once, and to have your focus solely on one of them in return.
Steven had to get up early for work and hates to wake either of you (even though you know Layla is a light sleeper and probably wakes up each time anyway) so instead you know you'll be greeted by a sweet little note on Gus' fish tank once you leave the bed.
If you leave the bed.
You cuddle closer to Layla, limbs entangled under the blankets, and kiss her cheek. She looks so beautiful in the morning light with the early sunlight filtering through the curtains. Her hair looks unbelievably soft and you can smell her shampoo from where you are pressed against her. And her eyes, gods you could stare into them forever, the sun making her dark brown eyes shine like molten gold. You're not surprised Taweret chose Layla as her Avatar, to you she might as well be a goddess herself.
"Any plans for today? Seems like we got the flat to ourselves,” she comments, pulling you out of your reverie, “For the next few hours at least."
Layla pulls you deeper into her arms and your lips find the crook of her neck, placing feather-light kisses on her soft skin.
"Can we just stay in bed for a bit?", you murmur against her neck. The only answer you get is a satisfied hum, your lover thoroughly enjoying your undivided attention and affection.
You know she can feel you grin against her as your kisses slowly drift further from her neck down to her chest. You linger over her breastbone, your hands traveling over her sides, slowly inching upwards.
Layla's delighted giggles turn into breathy moans as your fingers faintly brush her nipples. She wiggles against you, displeased by your teasing. She can feel you chuckle, the warm puffs of air making her skin tingle.
"I'll make it worth your while," you continue as you slowly pull up the tank top she uses as a night shirt. Layla hums affirmingly and sits up so you can undress her more easily, tossing the blankets off of you in the process. With quick, eager motions you remove her top, her breasts now on full display. Your eyes travel over her body, taking in her uncovered skin like she is a work of art to be admired.
Layla reaches out to you, her hand covering yours. "You know you can touch me, right? You did a great job with it just a minute ago." The impatience in her voice makes you feel giddy and you slowly raise her hand to your mouth. Your lips graze gently over the back of her hand before you lazily place gentle kisses all over it. "Why hurry? We have so much time," you counter as you turn her hand and continue placing kisses on her palm.
Layla groans in frustration and you can see her trying to be subtle, rubbing her thighs together. Your soft touches seem to already be having an effect on her. "Do I have to beg? Is that it?" Your grin spreads even wider as you continue to pepper her wrist with feather-light kisses. With a thoughtful hum you let go of her hand. "I'm not going to say no to that. Although we should probably not tell the boys that I can make you beg so easily," you give her a wink before slowly crawling over her, "Can't have them get competitive or else none of us will ever leave this bed again."
Layla's laughter dies in her throat as you lean down and wrap your lips around one of her nipples. An elated moan escapes her perfect lips, her hand that you were just covering with kisses grabbing onto your shoulder to keep you in place.
You chuckle against her skin, lazily switching between swirling your tongue around the already hardened nipple and sucking on it. You're using one hand to hold you upright over Layla's half-naked body while you tease the neglected nipple with your other, gently rubbing and twisting it between your thumb and pointer finger.
Layla makes no attempt to stifle her moans, her sighs of pleasure filling the room. The sound is music to your ears; it's been too long since you had Layla all to yourself so you were going to make the most of it.
Once you've spent a good time paying attention to each nipple with both your mouth and fingers you lean back to admire your handiwork. Her nipples, erect and flushed from the continuous stimulation, all but beg you for more, to be teased and tasted and bitten. Layla looks up at you, glassy-eyed, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. She can't help squeezing her thighs together at your heated gaze, desperate for any friction against her cunt.
"Tell me what you want," you coo seductively, "Tell me and I'll give it to you." In response Layla spreads her legs, wide enough for you to settle in between them. "Eat me out?" she offers, more a question than a demand. You hum quietly as you kneel between her legs, your hands traveling over her soft thighs, slowly inching closer towards her underwear. Your fingers skim the frilly lace (a beautiful gift from Marc), goosebumps forming in response to your touch.
"I can do that," you reply. Bending forward, hands holding onto her thighs for support, you start to place teasing kisses over her stomach down towards her clothed cunt. She gasps and shifts under you, eagerly chasing your touch. Your lips linger on the line between skin and cloth, your eyes never leaving her face.
Layla groans, clearly exasperated by your stalling. "You're such a tease. Worse than Jake, I swear," she tilts her hips up, trying to grind against your face but to no avail. You lean backwards with a smirk. "Don't let him hear that. He's pretty proud of being a little shit," you counter and give her a sly wink. She rolls her eyes with a snort. "Then don't try and compete with him for that," her lips twist into a smirk of her own. Tenderly she grabs your chin, slowly tilting your head up to look deep into your eyes. "Or do you want me to beg before I can get your mouth on me?" she asks again, raising an eyebrow.
You grin like the cat who caught the canary. “Now, while I would love to hear that,” you croon as you slowly push down her underwear, unveiling her already slick pussy, “I had something else in mind.” With a little help from Layla you get her panties off of her and put them to the side. She spreads her legs invitingly and you lean down to kiss her mound. “Let me worship you,” you whisper against her skin before you swipe your tongue slowly between her folds.
Layla gasps as your tongue draws lazy circles over her clit. You gather more of her slick on your tongue, savoring her taste, before wrapping your lips around her clit and sucking gently. Layla's hands try to find purchase, to draw you even closer into her, finally holding onto your shoulders in a tight grip. You giggle against her pussy, delighted by her eagerness.
“Tell me how you want it, habibti . This is all for you,” you murmur lovingly. Before she can answer you give her clit another gentle suck and Layla curses under her breath. “Fuck, I don't know what's going to do me in first: your sweet-talking or your tongue on my clit,” she says breathlessly. Your smile turns into a smug grin. “Either way it's going to be my mouth that does it. So just relax and let me treat you like you deserve.”
It took you a while to be this bold with your affection, a little intimidated by how ridiculously gorgeous your partners are at first, but now it comes as easy to you as breathing. And to your knowledge your partners thoroughly enjoy that side of you too.
“Finger me?” Layla asks as if you could tell her no. Slowly you slide one finger inside her, thrusting in and out at a leisurely pace before adding a second finger soon after. “‘s this good?” you ask, pulling your mouth away from her dripping cunt just enough for her to hear you clearly. Her walls clench around your fingers, urging you to keep going deeper. She nods quickly. “Stop talking and keep going or I swear I'll-” Layla gasps as you dive back down between her legs to devour her. You curl your fingers inside her cunt, searching for the spot that will make her see stars. When a strangled moan escapes her lips you know you found it. Your fingers and mouth work in tandem, guiding Layla higher and higher towards her peak.
“Don't stop, please- oh fuck ”
Her thighs clamp down around your head, keeping you in place as her body trembles under your touch. Her walls tighten around your fingers as Layla comes undone. With your face buried in her pussy you can't see her face as she cums - to your great displeasure - but you feel her body tense with her orgasm and hear her high-pitched moans reverberate.
Slowing your pace, you gently finger Layla through her orgasm. You apply gentle pressure to her clit with your tongue before switching to placing tender kisses over her mound instead, careful not to overstimulate her. Only once her breathing has calmed down and you feel her stop twitching around your fingers do you remove yourself from her cunt.
Your lips and chin are soaked with her juices, as is your hand. With a satisfied smile you pull yourself up and take in the vision before you. Layla looks even more beautiful than before - if that is even possible. Her hair is a mess, some curls stick to her face while others frame her head like a halo. The rays of the rising sun reflect off of her now sweat-slick skin and give her an almost ethereal glow as she lays there between the crumpled sheets.
She looks divine .
“Get down here and cuddle with me,” Layla is beaming, arms outstretched towards you, beckoning, “I want to take care of you too.” You lay down next to her and as soon as you hit the mattress she is already pulling you into her embrace. “You don't have to,” you mumble as you nestle into her, “This was for you.”
It's quiet as you lay there, limbs a tangled mess. The only sounds filling the air are your breathing and the beating of your hearts.
“We should probably get up soon. Be productive or something,” you groan as you slowly try to get back up - to at least wash your hands and your face. Layla pulls you back down before you can even sit up straight. “I think,” she whispers into your ear seductively, “we can be plenty productive right here.” You laugh quietly and shake your head.
“Why do I have the feeling that your definition of that word is very different from mine?”
“What do you mean? Don't you think a round two would be productive?”
Her lips trail down your neck, her teeth nipping at your skin teasingly. You gasp as her hands find their way under your pajamas.
“Well, if you say it like that, who am I to argue?”
#moon knight#layla el faouly#layla el faouly x reader#layla el faouly/reader#moonknightevents#fran-writes#moon knight fanfic#moon knight smut#layla el faouly fanfic#layla el faouly smut
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2023: A Year of Connection
Hi everyone!
As I told you last month, this month's "devlog" will be more like an end-of-year recap. For those of you who have known me a while, you'll know that I get ~in my feels~ and Very Nostalgic at the end of the year. And this year is no exception to that.
Looking back on this year, I realize I did much more than I thought I did. The year was filled with so many waves of uncertainty, burnout, and ruts, that I felt like I wasn't accomplishing anything in the moment. Now that the year has actually wrapped up, I can see that was Once Again my imposter syndrome whispering words of sweet nothings into my ears.
In fact, this year, I find that I did Way More than what I did last year. Crazy, considering how busy I remember 2022 being. Let's take a walk down memory lane, shall we?
Writing
If there is one thing this bitch did, it's fucking write LFMASODIJ. For all my complaining this year of routes taking too long, getting creative ruts, etc., I still wrote (what I consider) a Very Good amount. While I may not have hit my writing goals that I had set out, I still ended up writing around 255k words in total this year. Most of this being for Alaris, and some of it being for my dissertation (LOL) and other side games, like Intertwine and Jam Games.
This number also doesn't include deleted passages, edited passages, etc., so the amount I've spent writing, reviewing, etc. was Significant this year. Here's to hoping that momentum continues into next year and finishing the rest of Alaris!
Side Games
Something completely unexpected, but that I'll forever be grateful for, was my decision(s) to join game jams this year. It all started with Otojam, a visual novel jam I'd wanted to join for a WHILE.
Intertwine was, without a doubt, one of my most memorable moments from this year. The friends I made/grew closer to during that jam. The people I connected with because of Intertwine. The people I got to work with. Everything about the experience surpassed my expectations, and Van and Summer 2023 will always hold a very special place in my heart because of it. Thank you to everyone who enjoyed that game. It was my first full game I ever released, and I couldn't have been more nervous about it (no literally. I wasn't sleeping and I was nauseous for a week before release).
Knowing there was no "revision" afterwards that I could hide behind or promise that there would be a "better"/"enhanced" version made the release terrifying. But the reception you all gave to it and support from so many friends made me feel so connected and grateful for the community.
The other three side projects were... well, Unexpected. LOL. Before these jams, I'd never wanted to work in team settings, mostly because I have Mad Imposter Syndrome, and I've always imagined I'd be dead weight in any given game dev team. My skills on writing, art, and/or coding alone aren't "exemplary" enough for me to think I, well, deserve to be on a team. But when a couple of short jams were being held by a friend, and teams were being made filled with other friends, I thought maybe I could help, even if it's just to QA/playtest. But I've walked away from each of these experiences learning so much from other talented people and with very dear friends.
Each of these side games truly tested my chops in terms of writing, narrative design, and coding. But I'm glad I challenged myself to take part in each of these experiences because I've walked away with so much more than I would've expected.
Alaris
My Heart. My Soul. And at times, My Worst Enemy.
As much as I may have talked about how I Wasn't making progress on this baby. I, in fact, made A LOT of progress:
Art: 15 CGs, Updated Sprites, Kickstarter Artwork
Commissions: 20 BGs, Complete GUI, Personality/Affection Indicators, Editing, Voice Acted Lines, Complete OST (8 Tracks!)
Writing: Three Finished Routes
Shipped Kickstarter Merchandise
I'm going to be Real with you all. I'm not in the mood to recap everything for Alaris in the way I did with everything else LAFKMSDFOIJWOEI. Main reason being, I do that Every Month, and at this point, I would feel like I'm repeating myself for no reason. But let me tell you, when the Enhanced Demo comes out, you will see what I'm talking about with progress made. And I'm excited for the next year when I start getting to show things off (read: Demo Release and Route Beta Releases) now that assets have really come together ^^
I will say, thank you for sticking with this project for so long. It's easy to get bogged down in development when a project like this is as big as it is. It's just as easy to think that no one will care about this by the time I release, or people will start losing their patience with me as development goes on. So I'm forever grateful for how kind, supportive, and patient you all are, especially this year <3
Connections: The True Theme of 2023
If you've made it this far, I'm extremely impressed with you. And to reward you, I'll give you a moment of honesty and vulnerability which, to be frank, I Don't Do as a person and especially with my dev persona LMFAOO ((Before I do, let it be known, CW: mention of death, grief, alcoholism, chronic illness, suicidal thoughts))
Something I don't talk about much is that for all of 2022 and most of 2023, I was not in a good place mentally. At the beginning of 2022, I lost three very important people in my life back-to-back (I'm not exaggerating when I say back-to-back it was within 2 weeks, three separate deaths lol). That, on its own, was hard to deal with. But on top of that, I soon found myself having to cope/help with a family member's chronic illness and another family member's mental health (read: alcoholism, suicidality).
While this isn't a particularly unique situation, it was one that I found myself struggling with pretty severely on top of a pretty demanding work life. And it was a situation I found myself in until about midway through this year. Things have lightened up. I navigate a new life with some pretty severe triggers, and without the presence of some of my most loved ones. But overall, I at least feel like I can breathe and function, which is a state I didn't feel like I could exist in for over a year (and started to believe I may never exist in again).
Because of this new room in my life, I was able to connect with people again, in a more genuine way. I've grown closer to a lot of dev friends, to the point I consider some of them genuine close friends. And IRL, I've been able to reconnect with some of my dearest loved ones. The main reason I bring all of this up is because this year, I felt unbelievably connected to people, whether that was dev friends in the community, people who support my games, and IRL people.
And sometimes, when you interact with people solely online, it's easy to think they don't care as much about you as you do for them. But this has been disproven to me time and time again this year. And I've found myself in a state of appreciation for so many of the people I've been blessed to meet and befriend <3 I felt this especially so during some of the game jams, with the Secret Santa gift exchange, and with my recent Holiday Tree.
So thank you for everyone who has let me take up some space in their life. You literally Do Not Know how much it means to me and impacts me. This year, while I started it in a state of slightly hopelessness and numbness, I find myself ending it with gratitude and connection.
I hope the rest of this year (the very few couple of days we have left LOL) treats everyone well. I'm excited for how we get to start 2024 and what we'll get to experience together <3 Thank you again for the memories and support, love you all very dearly ^^
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rosekiller microfic: goldilocks 1,632 words
a bit of soft rosekiller!! this is inspired by @myrows rosekiller art which you can find here! it made me want to weep a little when I first saw it, so naturally I had to write something haha :)
ngl this has been sitting in my drafts for a while and it's by no means perfect but enjoy!! <3
Barty has always cherished quiet nights at Hogwarts.
When the chatter in the halls finally dies down enough for his thoughts to come back to him and homework has been carelessly tossed aside to save for tomorrow.
There’s a sense of serenity to it all that Barty rarely finds elsewhere. A break that he craves most at the end of a particularly stressful day.
Sixth year courses have been—to put it lightly, beating his ass—no matter how well he does. Today, it had taken him ten tries to get the nonverbal spell to work in Transfiguration. Ten.
Usually Barty needs no more than six tries for complicated spells, less than that for complex potions. Disregarding that he still did it faster than over half the class, now he’s just fucking tired.
He groans and shoves his schoolbag off the bed, letting it hit the floor with a soft thud, then flops backwards dramatically onto his pillows. The dorm room is dim, save for a few small candles on his bedside table. Cloaked in various shadows that dance around the room from the flickering flame.
Barty closes his eyes, taking a spare second to just breathe. There’s the soft white noise of the shower running in the background—Evan is taking forever, as usual—and sometimes Barty imagines he can hear the push and pull of the black lake against their walls. Lack of windows be damned.
It isn’t long before the water shuts off, and Barty feels the smallest smile tug at the corners of his mouth. It’s just the two of them for now, Regulus off doing god knows what at this hour. So naturally, a lot of built up restraint is needed for Barty not to rip open the bathroom door. To go and take in the sight of a freshly showered Evan and gather him in his arms before he can be stopped.
He’s been in there for less than thirty minutes but fuck it, Barty misses him.
Grumbling, he goes to change into the first clothes he can find. Settling for some years old joggers and a loose tank top, the soft fabric already making him drowsy.
The bathroom door creaks open and his head snaps up, immediately catching Evan’s eye. Barty really can’t help it when his heart skips a beat.
Evan raises his eyebrows, chuckling when Barty takes no subtlety in checking him out. His hair is dry, most likely done by magic. A thin blue t-shirt hangs off his shorter frame and each step taken towards Barty casts golden shadows over his skin.
Looking like everything warm and comfortable; the smell of his shampoo in the air so familiar that it hurts.
Barty’s smirk is wicked when he tugs Evan by his shirt into a light kiss. He makes a startled noise but melts into Barty’s touch regardless, fingers cupping his chin. The kiss is short but effective in making Barty’s head go all fuzzy.
“What happened to hello?” Evan asks when they pull apart—though not very far—now standing chest to chest. Evan’s bare feet fit in between his socked ones.
Barty makes sure to slather his words in extra charm, grinning. “Hello, gorgeous.”
“Wow, smooth talker,” Evan deadpans.
“You know you love it, Goldilocks.”
Barty takes a blonde strand between two fingers, tugging lightly at the end and earning him a deep scowl.
“I told you that nickname is stupid.” Evan rolls his eyes but Barty catches the blush high on his cheekbones. A light dusting of pinks and reds that work to compliment his freckles. Barty pokes him on one cheek.
“And I told you I don’t care.”
“Brat.”
Barty hums noncommittally, threading their fingers together. Warmth settles in his chest from the steady weight of Evan’s hand.
He leads Evan past the emerald green curtains of his bed and down onto the soft mattress. It’s a routine they’ve created over the last few months, and every time Barty wraps the covers around them it becomes harder and harder to let Evan slip back into his own bed. Something about having him in his arms means a night free of restless tossing and turning.
They lie facing each other for a few minutes, minimal space between them and their heads resting on one pillow. Quiet voices and even quieter laughs, a sacred bubble that neither of them dare to pop.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Barty laughs, his voice barely above a whisper. “You told Cresswell what?”
Evan frowns, a crease forming between his eyebrows. “I told him…that if he feels the need to keep staring at you in class then maybe I should tape his fucking eyes open. You know, that way he wouldn’t miss it when I inevitably snog you right in front of him.”
“Evan!” Barty can’t help it, his laugh is loud when it bursts from his chest.
“Well, maybe I left out that last bit…”
It takes him a minute before his laughter dies down, the quiet settling back in. “You jealous?” Barty teases, raising an eyebrow.
Evan purses his lips. “No.”
Barty stares at him knowingly.
Silence.
Evan averts his eyes.
“Mhm sure, come here.”
He drags Evan in by his waist, the pair of them fumbling around until Evan’s head relaxes in the crook of Barty’s neck and his forearm rests over his chest. Their sides pressed together, Barty smiles—fully content now.
Wordlessly, Barty ghosts his hand over the warm skin, relishing in the way Evan shivers from the cold metal of the ring on his middle finger.
There’s silence for a few minutes. Evan’s hair brushes the side of his face and his warm breath fans across his chest, their hearts only slightly out of sync as they beat so close together.
It’s a lot for Barty to take in sometimes—the whole idea of them. Having someone so delicate, yet so utterly untouchable, be his. If anyone took the time to ask him, though, he wouldn’t change it for the world.
Barty knows Evan’s eyes are closed, can see the shadow of his eyelashes. He takes the opportunity to trace over his freckles; a messy constellation that follows the high points of his cheeks, crosses sporadically over the bridge of his nose.
Evan scrunches his face up, which should not be so endearing. “That tickles.”
Barty turns his head, placing the quickest of kisses atop of Evan’s forehead, debating whether or not he should just give in and lick the side of his face. Then ultimately deciding against it—Evan did just take a shower—he’ll be nice for once.
“I wasn’t jealous. I don’t get jealous,” Evan mumbles, his voice lulled and tired sounding.
“Of course not, Ev.” Barty resists rolling his eyes, Evan can’t see his face anyway.
“Besides,” Barty continues, “If you were jealous, I don’t mind you threatening people for me…it’s kinda hot.”
Evan smacks him lightly across the chest, but snuggles deeper against his shoulder. Which definitely does not do a weird flippy thing to Barty’s stomach. Nope, not at all.
“Mm okay,” Evan yawns. Which, Barty can’t blame him. Exhaustion is slowly taking over his body the longer they lie here. At this point all he wants to do is blow out the candles and fall asleep. Keep Evan next to him the whole night.
“Hey Goldilocks.”
“Mhm…” Evan must be too tired to even rebuke the nickname.
“Reg is going to freak out if he finds you here in my bed.”
Evan huffs, not very different from a petulant child. He makes no move to get up or even open his eyes. “I don’t care.”
This time Barty can’t hold back his yawn. He shuts his eyes and allows his body to sink further into the bed. Further into Evan. “Maybe we can tell Potter how madly in love with him Reg is. Then they can finally leave us alone.”
“Payback,” Evan snorts.
They both fall asleep without really meaning to. Tangled limbs beneath the covers and hands that aren’t inclined to let go. As his mind quiets down, something in Barty feels settled. A puzzle piece slotting into place after searching and searching for the edge that matches. Evan tends to have that effect on him, he’s come to notice.
All is quiet for a while, the whole school in a coinciding state of slumber. A time when portraits snore softly and only ghosts roam the halls, the usual lively presence of magic at bay for now.
But not even thirty minutes later they’re awoken with a loud thud and a significantly darker room—Barty had blown the candles out after all—just in case.
“Lumos,” someone whispers.
Regulus stands at the end of Barty’s bed, hands on his hips and a look of annoyance on his face. His wand is now lit and shining far too bright for Barty’s liking.
“What the fuck, Reg?” he asks groggily. Evan groans beside him and tries to hide his face.
“Not my fault I tripped over your fucking books, Barty,” Regulus hisses. “And you guys are gross. You said no PDA in the dorm.”
Barty squints and gestures for him to lower his wand. Regulus does so slowly. “Yeah, well I’m a fucking liar. Let us sleep.”
It’s with a lot of grumbling and a sharp glare that Regulus turns and stalks to his side of the room. When he shuts himself in the bathroom Barty reaches for his own wand and spells his curtains closed.
He has Evan back in his arms in no time, steady and real and here. Absolutely not going anywhere, if Barty has a say in it. His fingers resume their path over his arm, tracing nonsensical shapes that neither can decipher. Before they both drift off again a thought pops into Barty’s head.
“We are definitely getting him back for this.”
#ahhhh another microfic i missed them#this is silly and self indulgent but i love them sm#so soft i'm kinda dying#shoutout to evan's freckles for being the sole inspo#and myro's lovely lovely art ofc#rosekiller#rosekiller microfic#barty crouch jr#evan rosier#barty x evan#evan x barty#rat's silly microfics
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✽ maybe this means something? ✽ | csc.
CHAPTER 00 - Introduction.
Choi Seungcheol used to be the bane of your existence, but through a year of seasonal rotations, something felt different. It has to be overwhelming realizing you could fall for the person you always thought you hated.
𐦍 paring: seungcheol x reader. (svt members mentioned)
𐦍 genre: frenemies (sort of), romance, a little angst, fluff.
𐦍 content: non-idol characters, food/drink, cursing, slightly- suggestive, pet names, fem! reader. bff! hao.
𐦍 word count: 1.4k
♥ notes: every time I listen to Means something by Lizzy McAlpine it makes me think of cheol so I wanted to write a little something with it as inspo, but pls ignore any typos or weird phrasing I'm super rusty when it comes to writing long fics. pls enjoy and give feedback. xo.
Intro - Fall - Winter - Spring - Summer
Intro:
Walking down a narrow alleyway trying to find the brown arched doorway in the photo from your friend's text, you suddenly felt a chill running up and down your back, was someone following behind you? If they were, was it smart for you to turn around and look or keep your head held high and continue to your front?
Against your better judgment you continued down the moonlit coated pathway. Suddenly a firm grasp came up to your shoulder as you screamed only to be met with the smirking face and raven colored hair of your worst nightmare, no, not a murderer but worse, Choi Seungcheol.
For all you made out of his features in the small amount of light you did have, that smirk plastered on his face could only be changed by your hand coming in contact harshly with his cheek.
“What the fuck are you doing?” you spat in his direction, his hand still resting on the jacket that covered your bare shoulders underneath.
Seungcheol, now stone cold as you’ve known him to be,, just shook his head and removed his hand only now to be pointing two doors down from where you had walked. “You missed the entrance.”
You just squinted back in his direction and without a word pushed passed his broad shoulders to the door you had missed. When you finally reached the warmth of bodies grazing passed you in both directions the sound of the music made the fast paced beating of your chest seem calm.
“Minghao!” you yelled finally spotting the reason you’re not in bed watching your favorite movie.
“I didn’t think you’d make it!” he smiled hugging you so tight your ribs felt like they could crack.
It was a celebration for him after all, you’ve known him forever so you could miss a big moment like this. He was throwing a party for all of his closest friends to cheer the opening of his art gallery, most of them being featured artists he discovered somewhat like what you thought you’d be doing, but maybe in another life.
Your right arm still draped around his waist as your left outstretched to him grabbing the one thing you really needed, alcohol. Taking a sip and letting it run down the back of your throat felt like a reward.
“You know I could never turn down a chance to celebrate you, this is really amazing, Hao. I can –” a familiar voice interrupted yours offering another congrats to the friend on your side, of course it was his.
Seungcheol looked at the closeness of you and Minghao and felt a rush to his cheeks, “Hi, sorry to interrupt you both, but I figured if I didn’t stop her now I could never get a word in.”
Your mutual friend just laughed at the two of you. He's always been in the middle of the bubbling tension, “Cheol, thank you. Really you’re like 75% of this. You designed the entire layout; it wouldn't have been the same without you.”
Hao’s hand left its comfortable position around you to now be wrapped around the shoulders you rudely brushed passed earlier.
“Wait, you designed this?” your now hands gesturing to the architecture of Minghao’s gallery interior.
Seungcheol looked confused as to why you were even entertaining a conversation between the two of you. He chose to let it go due to the night being special,, “Uhm, yep. I took over for my dad, he owns a lot of the historic buildings in this neighborhood so whoever owns the retail space has to come through our architecture firm for consultation.”
Your eyes opened wide, almost not believing the words coming out of his mouth, pure shock was really all you had in you. “Oh, cool.” Was that all you could say? Cool?
“I guess, it’s not really what I wanted to do forever, but designing for Hao was something I couldn’t say no to and my dad never would’ve let me if I didn’t stay to take over for him, but yeah it's cool.” His smile seemed forced now and for some reason you felt the need to get to the bottom of that.
Something about him changed from the time you saw him teasing you outside, something like the air during this season. On the outside it was cold, but the inside was warm and comfortable. You’d have to find shelter first to find the beauty of the outside.
A groan from Hao took your now staring eyes off of the cherry lipped boy to focus back onto him. “I’m sorry I have to go say hello to some people, but if you guys want to sit and wait for me I’ll be back in like ten minutes tops, grab a drink and go into the lounge.” His eyes never left yours searching for the fear of being alone with someone you loathed, but he couldn’t find it so he felt safe to leave you.
As you waited with him in line you pretended to look around the room more, but really you just wanted to size him up. He had an outfit on that brought out his now masculine shape, which as a departure from the slim boy you met years before. His eyes seemed softer, like he had calmed down from the teasing and prodding. You couldn't put your finger on it, but maybe he was always this beautiful but you were too blinded by the rage inside your gut to notice.
“Hi guys, what can I get for you?” The overly perky bartender spoke loudly knocking you out of your trance.
“Tequila Soda.” Seungcheol and you spoke in unison.
A small smile curved onto your normally downturned mouth, “Good choice.”
“Mmm, you too, thought you had no taste?” He teased and grabbed the two drinks gesturing over to the sherpa lined loveseat near the fireplace.
“I’m surprised you ever thought anything about me other than I was a bitch.” You scoffed now placing your jacket over your stocking covered legs.
He just laughed and placed the two drinks down in front of him, “Well, to be honest I think this is the most I’ve ever spoken to you without one of us getting upset.”
“Yeah, I would say sorry for that, but I’m too sober to have that conversation with you.” You lifted the rim of your glass to your lips taking a sip. “Can I ask you something actually?”
Seungcheol just nodded in your direction while adjusting his frame towards you further, “Sure, go ahead.”
“Did it at least hurt when I slapped you earlier? Cause if it didn’t I caused my hand pain for no reason.”
“Yeah, it really did.” He just smiled.
┄┄ ︰ ┄୨୧┄ ︰ ┄┄┄┄ ︰ ┄୨୧┄ ︰ ┄┄┄┄ ︰ ┄୨୧┄ ︰ ┄┄
Leaving the party after your first civil conversation with the same guy you hated since you met him five years ago had you on a weird high, but it was probably just the tequila right?
You would have never imagined from that first day in college when Minghao introduced you to a friend of his that you’d ever get along with him. You always just viewed him as Choi Seungcheol, enemy number one. A womanizer, a rich brat who got everything in his life handed to him, someone that you’d never get along with and not because you didn’t try.
Seungcheol teased you, he made you feel small. Told you basically for years that Minghao only had been keeping you around because you were his charity case, but not in so many words.
You had felt a deep loathing for him forever, so why is it changing?
Passing down as leaves crunched beneath your feet you notice something, a street sign, a mundane object that’s never stuck out to you before it read ‘Coups Avenue.’
His nickname was on a sign just a few blocks down from your apartment, a street you’ve probably seen many times and never paid any attention to, so why was it special now?
Your pace picked up as the wind blew colder, you had to get to the bottom of it.
Finally reaching the end of your elevator ride into your apartment, your laptop was out before you could even change out of your clothes or wash off your makeup you started researching the small hub that was your neighborhood.
“Coups Avenue, what could that even mean?” your head couldn’t wrap around the fact it was the first time you noticed it.
“ Coups Avenue is a small lux dead end street, featuring boutique liquor stores, luxury apartment complexes, and coveted neighborhood restaurants, most famously Choi Bistro founded in 1995 after the birth of the Choi family's son.” You read aloud to your dog as she's cuddled to your side on the couch.
“So… I saw his name on a street sign, literally named for him after he was born.” You rolled your eyes and laid your head back to stare at the ceiling. "
It had to mean something, right?
#❃ - duffytalks#❃ - means something#svt scoups#svt#scoups x reader#seventeen x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen headcanons#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#seventeen x oc#svt imagines#svt reactions#svt fic#svt fanfic#scoups fluff#scoups imagines#choi seungcheol x reader#seventeen fic#svt fluff#svt x reader#scoups x y/n#scoups x you#seungcheol au#seungchol x y/n#seungcheol x reader#svt scoups au#seventeen masterlist#seventeen au#seventeen x you
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people who single out marauders fan artists like likeafunerall and blame them for feminizing sirius need to chill the fuck out and take a break from the internet. there's currently a tiktok going around with some unpopular (and valid) marauders opinions, one of them being something along the lines of "I prefer masc Sirius! " which AGAIN is very very valid. what ISNT however are the comments going absolutely insane over fem Sirius and blaming individual artists for ruining Sirius, as if seeing him as a short long haired guy had ruined their perception of him forever. I'm just wondering if theyre aware that. that's. transphobia. like standard definition of transphobia. "Sirius cant be a woman theyre making wolfstar look like a straight couple" ARE YOU LISTENING TO YOURSELF? they claim to be inclusive and woke but their acceptance stops at anything beyond two white twinks kissing. and it SUCKS bc the "fanon vs canon marauders" discussion can very much feel like a fight between two sides and it's just a fact that a majority of these transphobic assholes is on "my side" (preferring canon over fanon). Ik that this is mostly owed to the fact that the fandom is GIGANTIC and parted into many sub fandoms and I used to be fine with that but it's gotten to the point where I feel like I need to clarify my position every time I interact with people within the fandom "yes I prefer canon over fanon, no i do not ship jegulus, yes I enjoy wolfstar a moderate amount, no I do not like the fanon version of wolfstar, yes I enjoy masc sirius, NO I AM NOT A TRANSPHOBE" to me, it has started to feel like theres almost nothing in-between thinly veiled misogyny ("remus is a casanova, sirius is 5'6, sirius needs remus help with studying") and thinly veiled transphobia ("sirius needs to be 6'4 and super masc and anything else isnt valid") and its starting to get me wondering why i am even still caring about this dumpster fire
There is a lot to unpack.
Individual artists and writers should not be blamed for something being popularized that is not canon. Individual creators should never be harassed or sent anything hate-like. Never.
There are two problems. One is fem!Sirius written in a misogynistic way where Sirius' "fem" traits are associated with misogynistic portrayals of women. Stupid, airheaded, need man to function, "hysterical," "dramatic." You get it. Sirius can be a woman, can be transfem, but Sirius is not stupid, airheaded, helpless, "hysterical" in canon.
The second problem. If Sirius is transfem Sirius should still be Sirius. Intelligent, loyal, quick-witted, cutting, intense. Those are not gendered traits. They can be for everyone. Sirius likes motorbikes. Likes creating things. Likes taking risks.
When some people see fem!Sirius art and also see misogynistic takes on fem!Sirius in fic, tumblr, tiktok they combine the two. Fem!Sirius as art or concept not the problem. Fem!Sirius where Sirius is nothing like canon and is only negative misogynistic stereotypes, that is the problem. That is more common nowadays.
If you want to write canon Sirius as transfem, OK. But make MtF Sirius with canon personality. As far as I know being transgender makes your personality shine better because you can be who you really are. If canon Sirius is written as transfem then canon Sirius personality should shine more?
So it is not the concept of fem!Sirius that is the problem. It is the execution. To me fem!Sirius should be similar to Bellatrix but fighting for good and not prejudiced. Canon Bellatrix is a formidable witch. Transfem Sirius would be also.
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Wail of the Silent 5/?
Prev | Next
TW: Mention of suicide
I would like to state that I know nothing about artificial voice boxes, but I do know the way I'm writing about them isn't accurate so please don't take it that way. Enjoy
Danny ate the best omelet he had ever had with gusto.
“Have you ever considered opening a diner?”
Jason smiled wryly.
You got that idea from an omelet? What if that’s the only thing I know how to make?
Danny read the notepad and laughed.
God, Jason thought, he has a nice laugh.
Danny smiled impishly at him. Fuck, Jason needed to learn how to control this new form of communication.
Amusement. You’re funny, amused. Amused.
Jason gave Danny the bird, trying not to blush.
“It’s okay. I think you’re cute, too.”
Jason’s blush deepened. He didn’t know what to do with Danny’s mild flirting.
Finish your food. I want to talk about this Spectra and how we’re gonna get her.
Danny sighed. Ancients, Jason was stubborn.
“Jason, she’s fed off you and caused you almost to kill yourself. Don’t try to deny it; I felt your emotions. Your core was screaming in pain. I don’t think it’s a good idea, especially since you don’t know how to control your core and emotions.”
Jason snarled silently.
Anger. No, I’m going. You can’t stop me—anger, determination, determination. You can’t stop me.
Calm, calm. I won’t stop you, Danny chirped (it was still weird to think about a human being chirping and Jason understanding.)
It was weirder still that Jason answered back in chirps, have to do it. I have to get my revenge. Please, please. I have TO!
“Ugh, fine. But first things first. I have to be completely honest with you. I accidentally found out you’re the Red Hood when searching for the ghost that was screaming; when searching for you.”
Jason got a fistful of Danny’s embarrassment. He couldn’t help but smile—finally, something to make fun of Danny for.
Danny felt Jason’s amusement. He saw Jason’s chest move as he gave silent laughs. The man signed something, but Danny couldn’t understand him. He sighed.
“I’m glad my suffering gives you pleasure,” Danny said petulantly.
Jason continued signing while he laughed.
“Seriously, dude, I don’t know sign language.”
Jason wiped invisible tears.
Amusement, fun. Happy. Happy.
This was the first time Danny had heard Jason with no negative emotions calling through his core. He was humming his happiness in full volume.
Fine. If Danny had to feel a little embarrassed for Jason to feel even a bit of amusement, well, Danny could (un)live with that.
Ancients, he had just met the other halfa, and Danny already wanted to make Jason happy.
Jason’s smile grew. Fuck, Danny had it bad.
I was trying to say that since you know, I’m gonna bring my helmet. I have an artificial voice box on it. It’ll make it easier to talk to you with it on.
Danny shrugged, “That’s up to you.”
Jason smirked and left Danny alone. Danny took time to look around the small living room. Either than the bookshelf full of well-worn books, the place didn’t look lived in. There was no TV, only a couch and coffee table. No photos, no decorations, no plants. It almost looked like a model for an apartment brochure. The kitchen was a little more well-used with state-of-the-art appliances.
“Okay,” a mechanized voice said behind him, “Let’s talk.”
Danny turned to see Jason in the red helmet he had seen the night before. Danny couldn’t see the other halfa’s expressions, but considering how unused Jason was communicating with his core, Danny knew that wouldn’t be a problem for him.
“What does this Spectra want?”
“In a nutshell? To be young and beautiful forever. The way she achieves that is by feeding off others’ misery. She posed as my school psychiatrist my freshman year and fed off me and my whole school.”
Jason stayed silent, waiting for Danny to continue.
“She’s upped the ante now. Before, she fed off people's misery, but now she’s causing them to kill themselves. I found two of them who hung themselves in Amity Park, where I’m from, and the other died because of the overwhelming sadness. Unfortunately, I couldn’t save them.” Danny clenched his fists.
“When she found out I was after her, she fled Amity Park and came here. It makes sense; even the ghosts and shades here are miserable, let alone those who live here. It’s a buffet for her. I can’t find her, though. I felt her earlier, but it’s so weird because I could tell she wasn’t near; my ghost sense hadn’t gone off.”
“Okay,” Jason said, “That’s a lot to take in. So, this bitch was feeding off me last night?”
“Yeah, I couldn’t get to her before she left, though.”
“Lucky for you, Batman raised me; I can help you look for her.”
Danny frowned, still not liking that Jason would be close to Spectra.
“Hey, none of that. I deserve to get my revenge.”
“Yeah, I get that. Besides, if you don’t come with me, you might go alone and get in trouble.”
Amusement—yeah, I will—amusement.
Danny rolled his eyes.
“Okay, if we’re gonna do this together, I have to give you a crash course on ghosts. First things first, ghosts are made of ectoplasm,” Danny raised the palm of his hand and called for ectoplasm to form.
The effect was immediate. Jason got off his chair as far as he could from Danny.
Fear, his core yelled out, anger, not right—fear, anger. Evil.
Danny made the ectoball disappear and put his hands up.
“Jason? What’s wrong?”
Jason took a deep breath that the artificial voice box didn’t pick up and said, “Give me a second. I have bad experiences with that color and…” Jason trailed off.
“You’ve seen ectoplasm before, and it wasn’t a good experience, was it?”
Fear, scared, drowning—it will drown me again—fear, get it away from me. Anger. Anger. FURY! Madness. Rage
Danny said nothing, letting Jason deal with his emotions. It’d be good practice for when they deal with Spectra.
Eventually, Jason calmed down, but Danny could still feel the anger simmering under the surface.
Jason didn’t come to sit by Danny again. He was wary of the other man. He crossed his arms and silently let Danny continue.
“Sorry about that. I didn’t think it would affect you.”
Jason waved the apology away.
“Continue,” he said curtly.
“Well, ectoplasm is what every ghost is made of. It is imprinted emotions given form. A core develops deep in the ectoplasm. The core is the brain and heart of a ghost. The only organ a ghost has, the ectoplasm protects the core. That’s how we’re communicating, by the way. Your core processes your feelings into chirps and hums. The hums are raw emotions; the chirps are kind of like human words.”
Jason touched the middle of his chest. It felt warm.
“Yeah, that’s where your core is. It isn’t fully developed. It’s almost as if it has been stunted in its growth. Actually, the ectoplasm in you is…dirty? Corrupted?” Danny shrugged, “It’s probably why you haven’t been able to transform. Have you noticed any powers?”
“No,” Jason answered. Of course, he was dirty. (Only a corrupt person would kill.) Jason felt sadness and rejection settle deep in his bones. He always knew something was wrong with him, but to have it confirmed that it was inside and settled in his body? Well, it certainly hit hard.
Acceptance, calm, calm—I accept you for who you are.
Why?
He looked up and wished his helmet wasn’t in the way so Danny could see his face. Why was he helping Jason?
“When I was looking for you, a bunch of shades and ghosts surrounded your place. They didn’t have much strength to come and help, but they asked me to help you. You want to know what they called you?”
“What,” he asked. His mechanical voice couldn’t pick up the emotions behind his question. Jason knew Danny could tell what he was feeling.
“They called you the avenger of the dead. The protector of the living. I’m more inclined to trust the dead’s judgment than the living’s.”
Jason felt like crying. There was someone who wasn’t condemning him, wasn’t calling him a killer. Not that he wasn’t, but it was nice to be acknowledged that he was doing something good. At least the dead appreciated him.
“You don’t know what I’ve done,” Jason said, “how can you just accept me?”
Jason felt the sting of betrayal from his family, his father. What if Danny did the same thing eventually?
Danny looked at Jason softly. The other halfa had suffered so much. It’s no wonder Spectra had latched on to Jason so quickly.
Danny let his emotions encircle Jason.
Acceptance, acceptance, calm—it’s okay.
“I know I’m a stranger; there’s no reason to trust me, but I want to help you. I promise.
“I believe you,” Jason answered. He took off his helmet so Danny could see Jason’s expression. Jason looked up at Danny’s shockingly blue eyes and saw the same thing that Danny surrounded him with. Acceptance.
Jason didn’t know if he just wanted to believe or why he latched on to Danny so quickly, but he hoped it wasn’t a mistake.
Danny sighed. He so wanted to touch Jason’s (handsome) face, but that would be too fast. Like Jason, Danny was also confused about how he could’ve latched on to a virtual stranger so quickly. Maybe it was because they were both lonely, or being halfas could’ve been something to do with it, but Danny wasn’t complaining.
“Come on, let’s continue our talk.”
Danny got Jason’s hand and led him to the couch. Jason couldn’t help but blush.
“Anything you want to ask before I continue,” Danny asked as he got the notepad and sat on the couch. He waited for Jason to do the same.
Jason shook his head no. He didn’t feel like putting the helmet on or writing, but he still took the pad and pen.
Jason pointed to himself and then put his finger over his mouth.
Danny smiled; he should learn sign language. Even if he left Gotham, he would like to keep in touch with Jason, and the other man wouldn’t be able to communicate with his core if Danny was far away.
“Now, where was I? Oh, yeah, cores. There are different types of cores. Fire cores, shadow ones, ice ones, like the one I have.”
Jason cocked his head to the side; is that why the apartment was colder?
“I don’t know what type you have, but it seems to depend on how a ghost usually dies. I’m the exception, not the rule.”
Jason wanted to ask how Danny died, but something in him told him it would be wrong to do so.
“I can feel your curiosity. I won’t be able to talk about it. Also, don’t go around asking ghosts how they died; it’s rude.”
Jason was glad he kept his mouth (ha!) shut.
“Next, there are obsessions. An obsession is a ghost's reason for being, the thing that keeps them tethered. Spectra’s obsession is being young and powerful. I know of another ghost that wants to be remembered and hypnotizes people through her music. Another one is obsessed with playing games. They could be deadly sometimes. The point is that obsessions equal staying in the mortal and infinite realms.”
What’s yours?
Danny read it and got pensive. Jason hoped it wasn’t taboo to ask about obsessions.
“Mine are protecting and space.”
There can be more than one?
“Yeah, I mean, Spectra has two, too. Youth, power. The way she obtains it can be deadly, though.”
Jason pondered Danny’s words. He wondered what his obsession was. Should he instinctively know?
“Don’t worry. I’m here to help.”
Jason smiled, grateful.
Thanks, it’s a lot to think about.
“Yeah, you should’ve seen when I first got my powers. I was a mess. Freshman year sucked ass.”
Jason’s brow creased, and then his eyes widened. Freshman year, Danny would’ve been what, fourteen? Did he die at fourteen?
Sadness, anger.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
Jason shook his head, not wanting to make Danny feel bad.
Danny sighed and put his hands under his chin, his elbows resting on his knees.
“I came here for Spectra but have no idea how to find her.”
Jason looked at Danny.
I have an idea where she could show up.
____
Lady Gotham felt her favorite knight’s emotions as if they were hers.
She smiled; Jason felt lighter, and it was all thanks to the other halfa. She would make sure that the other halfa was under her protection.
She watched as Bruce Wayne stepped on a puddle she didn’t think to show him.
Now she had to think of ways to help Jason and Danny.
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Hils Watches Mysterious Lotus Casebook - Ep 40 (and bonus episode)
God, okay, here we go. I'm so anxious. I remember how Heroes ended and how much it broke me
I've come this far though so I guess let's do this even if it's going to hurt. I have a packet of tissues on standby just in case it all goes horribly wrong as I fear it will
Well, we're off to a good start. Li Lianhua is practicing his martial arts and imagining Di Feisheng is there with him. I'm definitely not crying less than 5 minutes in
It's okay though because Fang Duobing is there to take care of him and make sure he keeps warm 😭
Okay, I suspected he rigged the mechanisms to be easily seen and destroyed because Fang Duobing mentioned it but I didn't realise the whole thing was him trying to take down Jiao Liqiao from the inside. I feel bad(ish) for him now
Oh shit! Well, it wouldn't be Mysterious Lotus Casebook without one final (I hope) dramatic poisoning
I love that he just calls him Xiaobao in front of everyone now. Everyone clearly knows they're together.
God, he's about to do something stupid isn't he? I'm having Word of Honor flashbacks. GDI even I didn't clock that he was deliberately sending Fang Duobing away so he could do this
Oh fuck
I am sobbing
I do not understand these two at all. First of all I thought she left him when she ended their engagement (that I thought was a marriage - that whole wedding that wasn't a wedding was confusing), then I assumed she must have left him when she took the sect leader job from him. Apparently after all that they're still together??? But maybe they're breaking up for real this time?
I suppose Xiao Zijin is going to blame Li Lianhua for this too
I knew he was going to get free and leave before Fang Duobing got back 😭
FFS I was already crying and now Huli Jing is crying so I'm crying even more. I knew this was going to be sad but FUCK
He just rescued a trapped bird like a fucking Disney prince
I knew the 'recipe book' was going to be all his martial arts notes
FFS Xiao Zijin let it go! I swear to god if he kills Li Lianhua because Li Lianhua is half blind and ready to die I am throwing my laptop out the window
OH FUCK IS HE GOING TO DO IT HIMSELF?
Oh, I think he was talking to his sword
Well fuck.
Oh, he landed in the boat. Maybe he's okay? Let me have my denial!
It feels like forever ago but I think this dude was telling the story of Li Xiangyi and Di Feisheng in the first episode. If he was that's a nice touch that we've circled back around and he's now telling stories about Li Lianhua
I have to laugh because the alternative is crying even more. But I love all these randos know that Di Feisheng is in love with Li Lianhua and they're acting like him not showing up at the beach is like jilting him at the altar (even though they're already married)
His stoic but clearly sad face 😭
Well he's still alive. At the moment at least.
I know he's talking about fighting, but he probably also talking about their relationship
I want to hug him
I'm fine 😭
Onto the bonus episode. This is either going to be hopeful or painful and I honestly have no idea which way it's going to go
Painful so far!
Well, that was very ambiguous so I'm choosing to believe they found him at the beach and are living happily ever after 😋
I did really enjoy that despite the pain. Thanks to everyone who has been yelling along with me in the comments and notes while I've been watching. This is why I enjoy liveblogging dramas
#hils watches#hils watches mysterious lotus casebook#hils watches cdramas#mysterious lotus casebook#cdrama
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🤠🐂🐓Texan Jake "Hangman" Seresin (Vol. II) Fic Recs🐓🐂🤠
Check the Top Gun Masterlist post for the latest updated version. 💕
Ao3 Authors: Alecjbi, Chase_acow, Dalearden, Dames_for_jamesbarnes, Dandeliondick, Davidbyrne, Earthangel_44, Ginnydear, Haridwar, Heir2slytherin, Kakyoins__wife, KazanskIce, Kiddi, MerielTLA, Nightwrite24, Owls4ever, Popandpizazz, Sceld, Sycamoretree, Thereisnocowboyemoji, Totoroboiii, Vannral, VarjoRuusu, Writerofthelorde.
> Texan Jake "Hangman" Seresin (Vol. I)
Art Bonus - I was cravin' the visual so badly I had to add these delightful pieces of art (don't hesitate to point others my way, I'm SURE I missed some 🤗🥰)
Aran’s Bullriding!Hangster - Aran’s Hat Rule!Hangster - Beezel’s (Smutty) Hat Rule!Hangster - Beezel’s Cowboy!Jake - Gray‘s Barbie Cowboy!Jake - Gray‘s Cowboy!Jake - Gray's Cowboy!Jake & Saloon Owner!Bradley - Megan’s Cowboy!Jake - Mustasekittens’ Cowboy!Jake - Storm’s Cowboy!Jake - Storm’s Cowboys!Hangster.
The Exes of Texas Are Upon You by chase_acow {M}
While trying to enjoy their day off, a bet comes back to haunt Hangman forcing Rooster into a tight spot.
cowboy, take me away by ginnydear {T}
jake has a cowboy hat he doesn't just let anyone wear. bradley takes that as a challenge.
Show me the way home, honey! by thereisnocowboyemoji {E}
It’s perched on one of the posts of their poster bed frame and it drives Bradley absolutely crazy.
riding into the sunset with you by alecjbi {E}
While searching through the group's old Facebook posts, Jake finds a photo of Bradley that he can't seem to get over.
Nickelback isn't Romantic, Jake. by dandeliondick {T}
When Jake drinks everyone remembers that he's from Texas and one poorly placed bet from Fanboy leads to everyone in the bar learning Jake is from Texas and well...Bradley is just trying to make it through the night without jumping the ex-asshole.
"I bet on after Texas, it makes him soft." by dandeliondick {T}
The other man raised a brow before reaching up for the bottle Jake pulling it backwards making Jake fall into his chest with a huff. Bradley laughed as Jake honest to God pouted full bottom lip out, “Bradley Bradshaw stop being a dick.”
Bradley kept ahold of the beers as he sat down making a dramatic show of getting comfortable before turning his smirk up at Jake, “Well, take a seat and you can have your beer.”
He expected Jake to grab his beer and walk off and he nearly jumped when Jake instead swung around and settled onto Bradley’s thighs. Jake leaned back against his chest and laid his head on Bradley’s left shoulder as he snagged his beer from his loose grip.
A Barbecue by Any Other Name by owls4ever {T}
The second time their leaves all line up, Mav's in charge of hosting. Despite himself, Jake's excited when Mav announces he'll throw them a barbecue. What could be better than a day of hanging out with each other and eating good food? Only, turns out Jake and Mav don't expect the same things when it comes to throwing a barbecue.
Pressed Sunflowers by Sceld {T}
His smug expression is the final nail in the coffin for Jake, who is doing a fucking terrible job at hiding his outright shock.
“You’re… Good at that,” he says slowly, pretending it’s not doing something for him.
or; Jake spends the night at Bradley's place and learns more than he anticipated.
Forever your begonia by MerielTLA {T}
“This is not for me.” Mickey grinned like a fucking maniac as he held out a small envelope for everyone to see, pointing at the signature in it.
Jake.
The blond felt his world tilt as he frowned at the offending four letters of his name. What. The. Fuck. He pulled the card away from the other´s hand as he looked at the fancy lettering in horrified amazement.
“Oh my GOD! Bagman has an admirer?!” Paybay yelled
Or Jake Hangman Seresin had never gotten flowers...until he did.
With His Head Held High by dalearden {T}
Jake was born and raised in Texas and he knows a thing or two about guns. When Hard Deck is raided by a band of thugs and all inside taken hostage, Jake gets his hands on a rifle that Penny keeps under the counter and shows them exactly why they shouldn’t mess up with his Team. And Rooster may or may not get hard by seeing how precise Jake’s aim is.
Rack 'Em Up, Big Blonde by Earthangel_44 {E}
Bradley becomes a regular at a Hooters to spend three hours with a blonde server with an unfortunate taste in football teams. Along the way, Bradley might have developed feelings.
AKA: Jake is a Hooter's girl and Bradley is his regular.
First Thanksgiving as a couple by Writerofthelorde {G}
Bradley and Jake live together in Bradley's old house, and they're getting everything ready for their family members. They are both nervous. Jake's parents are vastly different from Pete and he is worried they won't get along. Bradley is worried because he had been doing this holiday alone for sixteen years and he's not sure how to act. That and he has some very special papers to give Mav today, and what if he doesn't want to sign them...?
The day is a mess, it's loud and hysterical and soft and full of tears.
Rolling Hills and Stormy Skies by VarjoRuusu {E}
(Not Texan!Jake - but this fic fits the vibe! <3)
Everyone thinks Jake Seresin is from Texas. Something he doesn't bother to correct, he just enjoys when his friends try and pin down exactly where his family ranch is, north, south, it's near Dallas, no it's near Austin. He sips his beer and lets them guess until the topic changes. He elbows Rooster in the side when the other man can't stop snickering because only Rooster knows Jake Seresin's ranch is in Montana.
-Or, a tale of Bradley and Jake.
bluebonnet boy by dames_for_jamesbarnes {T}
"Let's go see 'em," he says. starts putting his foot on the brake, slows them down to a crawl after checking his rearview. Bradley glances back at him with wide eyes, but Jake just gives him a little smile as they roll to a stop. "C'mon. They won't bite."
"But your parents might," he says to Jake, concern creeping into his tone. Jake's fingers tighten a bit on the wheel at the mention of them, even as he puts the truck in park. Bradley always plays at not being nervous, but this is different. This is meeting the folks. "Aren't they expecting us?"
It's the sight of the purpley petals once more, the way they seem to shimmer and shine that allows a deep breath. "Yeah, but we're almost home," he tells the other man, reaching over to squeeze his thigh. "And... I think they'll understand."
-The bluebonnets make Jake feel more than sentimental, memories of a time when he could just forget. He's glad he gets the chance to do it again with Bradley.
I thought he was older by Popandpizazz {_}
Jake recently moved to California and started dating Bradley Bradshaw and for the first time in months he’s going to see his closest friend
darling, i ain't even worried by heir2slytherin {_}
Jake Seresin did not get jealous. He didn’t have to. He was completely secure in himself, thank you very much. He knew that he was the best there was, in every aspect. He knew that nobody could even compare to him. He knew that no matter how many dates Rooster, no matter how many drinks he accepted at the bar, they were always going to end up together. Of course, he was sure of himself, but the one true thing he knew for absolute damn sure was that he and Rooster were always going to be the ones to walk into the sunset together. He didn’t need to get jealous. That was no point.
... Or, Rooster keeps going out with people who will never be as good as Hangman, and it is most certainly not killing Hangman from the inside.
Wear the Hat, Ride the Cowboy by kakyoins__wife {T}
Jake won't stop wearing obnoxiously big cowboy hats and Bradley decides to steal it.
dirty dance floors and dreams of naughtiness by davidbyrne {E}
Bradley reaches over and grabs Jake’s hat, lifting it off his head. He settles it on his own, winking at Jake as he does so. Jake smirks.
“Getting into the country aesthetic?” he teases, spinning them easily. Jake admires the way Bradley follows his guidance naturally.
“Nah,” Bradley answers, keeping his eyes trained on Jake. “Just testing out if a rumor I heard is true.”
“What rumor?” Jake asks, crooking an eyebrow.
“Steal the hat, ride the cowboy.”
If you find yourself thinkin' About that boy from East Texas by Kiddi {M}
“Funnily enough,” he decided to say, hoping he was reading the situation correctly, “this isn't the first sunrise we’ve had, is it?”
Jake chuckled softly and made a small noise, “no it is not,” he agreed, “just as pretty though,”
“No matter where I go,” he retraced old conversations, “the sunrise always feels like back home.”
They settled in comfortable silence for a bit before Jake spoke, “it's been a while since we’ve seen each other,” he said, looking down at the sand, “Spain was it?” he looked over at Rooster, “the last time I saw you?”
A little bit of shame and guilt rose in his chest, neither of them kept in touch after Spain but Rooster always felt like it was his fault, “yea, it was,” he nodded, “you haven't changed a bit though, still as annoying as ever,” he laughed, and so did Jake, “but you’re still one hell of a pilot,”
Or Bradley and Jake haven't seen each other since running away from their feelings and now they have to realize that they never really went away in the first place
Somebody Sighs Who Is Not In Disguise Anymore by Totoroboiii {E}
Bradley doesn’t connect the dots that maybe Jake was his high school crush
change is alright by haridwar {M}
Jake bet fifty-fifty on whether he was going to enjoy this conversation and stepped up to the passenger side door just as the window rolled down. He was greeted with a warm, smiling, moustachioed face which took him off guard. Though Jake didn’t recognise the driver, something about him verged upon familiar. His smile faltered as his gaze flitted over Jake’s face, eyes tightening in a way Jake didn’t want to overanalyse, but it made him seem no less friendly overall.
“Where you headed?”
“Closest ranch,” Jake replied, trying to keep his tone neutral as he made the snap decision to not identify himself for reasons he would rather not think about.
or... little bit of homecoming, whole lot of drama
show me a slow ride, cowboy by vannral {E}
”Bradley reaches, takes the hat very gently from Jake and places it on his own head.
Oh. Jake’s heart is about to burst wide open through the seams.”
In which Jake wears a Stetson and Bradley comes down from the perch for once.
Or, the obligatory ’steal the hat, ride the cowboy’-fic.
All I want (for Christmas) by KazanskIce {T}
“It’s… almost midnight,” Jake stutters, hoping that his time estimation is right. It’s been a couple of hours since the start of the party and he hasn’t been checking his watch.
“What about it?”
“You know what they say… about kissing someone at midnight.”
Bradley laughs shortly, but it doesn’t seem like he’s trying to be mean. When he stops, his eyes return to Jake.
“Yeah, I know. Doesn’t matter, because it’s not New Year’s Eve,” he says. He’s either not getting the point or purposely trying to throw Jake off.
From the horse's mouth by sycamoretree {M}
Jake hears that there’s trouble with his horse back home. Bradley misunderstands hugely. It has an impact on both of them.
cowboy like me by nightwrite24 {G}
“Why weren’t you in love with me the whole time, asshole?”
Bradley feels the doey-eyed look in his eyes melt into downright annoyance. “Well, maybe it took me a fucking minute to figure it out, Jake!”
Bradley writes songs for the girls he falls in love with.
#Texan Jake Hangman Seresin (Vol.II) Recs List#hangster#sereshaw#hangaroo#bradley rooster bradshaw x jake hangman seresin#bradley rooster bradshaw#jake hangman seresin#🐈red🐈furry🐈cat🐈tag🐈
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Hi, can I ask for S and Z, from the dirty A-Z hc game, with RZ Michael Myers please, i love you writing so much 🥺✨
I LITERALLY ADMIRE YOU AND YOUR ART, I AM SO GLAD THAT YOU LIKE MY WRITING 😭 Also, I am so sorry this took forever to get back to. I went through some troubles with writing for Slashers, but I am slowly getting back into it 💪💪
Here is the ask game if you would like to send anything in for Slashers, Borderlands, or The Walking Dead
NSFT BELOW THE CUT, MINORS DNI:
S - Sleepy sex (do they give oral to wake their partner up? do they like receiving oral to wake up? do they like fucking their partner awake? being fucked awake? how about being fucked to sleep at night? do they have lazy morning sex?)
I truly believe that this man is a late sleeper if he plans on not going out to kill that day. I feel like he enjoys sleeping in, especially if he has you by his side. So it isn't often that he wakes up before you do on those days, but the days that he is going out to kill. He does enjoy waking you up with a little sleepy sex. Absolutely loves fucking you awake. Something about it just gets him going.
He is not going to complain if you wake him up with sex or oral, either. He loves waking up to you riding him, or with your head between his thighs sucking him off. It's fairly rare that you can actually wake him up with these activities, though. He's typically waking up the moment you start shuffling around in bed. He doesn't say anything, though. Sometimes he even pretends to be asleep still just so you can do all the work and he can just lay back. He winds up taking control sooner or later, though. He's gotta make sure you know he's the one playing the cards, here.
Z - Zones (what are their erogenous zones? what spots on their body should be touched, bitten, kissed, when someone wants to get them in the mood?)
His hair. He loves it when you play with his hair. Could easily put him to sleep, but the moment that you start tugging on it while you're kissing him. He's got you pinned.
His chest and stomach. If you're kissing and biting on these areas he's definitely going to expect something out of it. Especially if it's his stomach you're paying mind to.
His biceps. If you show any sort of attention to them he's put in the mood. He loves his arms and knows that you like them as well due to the strength. Or at least he assumes that you do.
#rz halloween#rz Michael myers#rz Michael Myers headcanons#rz Michael Myers x reader#notsfw#minors dni
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