#more to add into the post-college brokenness
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Lu Guang walking in the room while dinner’s being cooked: Cheng Xiaoshi, are you cooking frittata in a saucepan??? What is this, prison??
#more to add into the post-college brokenness#one pot#lu guang#cheng xiaoshi#shiguang#link click#shiguang daili ren#source: new girl
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take a hint fuckboy.
Yandere playboy x gn!reader
♥️Kameron usagi was the most popular guy in your school. He had money, good looks, fantastic grades, even his own car and well paying job, which was any sophomores dream. What was not to love? Well..just one itsy bitsy detail.
♥️ he was a major fuckboy. Hitting beds just like he's hitting bases on the fields. He's slept with nearly every girl on campus, you wouldn't be surprised if he slept in a couple guy's too. Still, he actually expected you to overlook his "past" of sleeping around? You probably would, if you hadn't spent the last four years in the same class with him
♥️wooing girls (and guys), going on a few dates, bed them, dump them, and repeat. It ended up with more broken hearts than you could count. But no one has the balls to actually speak up about it. Why? Because kameron could easily wreck their social life. make them be hated by the entire school, even potentially fucking up their future if they really ticked him off
♥️but with you? Oh he's complete putty in your hands. Sadly you seemed to hate his guts. You aren't seriously mad about him sleeping with all your friends-? Oh.. you are. Well, this complicates things huh!
♥️kameron is incredibly delusional the longer his persistence goes on. Believing this is all some game and deep down you love him back. You're just shy and nervous! Dont worry! He can wait (no he can't.)
♥️he sends his cronies to stalk you. Making them collect whatever they can to add to his shrine of you in his bedroom. He Photoshops pictures of you both, posting them on social media so everyone can see! His pressuring you into a relationship isn't very subtle. You know what he's doing. But what can you do? He practically rules the school since his parents are grand contributers to the funding
♥️by the time sophomore year is ending, you're worn out and too tired to fight back. Simply giving in to his obsessive love and silently praying that one of the college's you sent applications to will accept. When you nod your head as he holds a large rose bouquet and a box of chocolates, he's jumping for joy. Taking you into his arms and kissing you deeply. Swooping you into his Camaro.
♥️ atleast now you're technically the queen of the school. You're popular and people gush about your relationship with incredible fondness. The downside is now that everyone knows, it'll be harder to break up with him because how could you ruin such a picture perfect relationship? Shame on you y/n. (Ignore the fanclub of ex girlfriends frothing at the mouth thinking up ways to ruin your life)
#queenie ocs#queenie writes#yandere x darling#ocs#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere male#yandere male x reader#male yandere#Yandere fuckboy x reader#Yandere playboy x reader#Kameron the playboy#Yandere oc#yandere oc x y/n#yandere oc x you#yandere oc x reader#yandere headcanons#yandere fic
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I'd been seeing videos on Tiktok and Youtube about how younger Gen Z & Gen Alpha were demonstrating low computer literacy & below benchmark reading & writing skills, but-- like with many things on the internet-- I assumed most of what I read and watched was exaggerated. Hell, even if things were as bad as people were saying, it would be at least ~5 years before I started seeing the problem in higher education.
I was very wrong.
Of the many applications I've read this application season, only %6 percent demonstrated would I would consider a college-level mastery of language & grammar. The students writing these applications have been enrolled in university for at least two years, and have taken all fundamental courses. This means they've had classes dedicated to reading, writing, and literature analysis, and yet!
There are sentences I have to read over and over again to discern intent. Circular arguments that offer no actual substance. Errors in spelling and capitalization that spellcheck should've flagged.
At a glance, it's easy to trace this issue back to two things:
The state of education in the United States is abhorrent. Instructors are not paid enough, so schools-- particularly public schools-- take whatever instructors they can find.
COVID. The two year long gap in education, especially in high school, left many students struggling to keep up.
But I think there's a third culprit-- something I mentioned earlier in this post. A lack of computer literacy.
This subject has been covered extensively by multiple news outlets like the Washington Post and Raconteur, but as someone seeing it firsthand I wanted to add my voice to the rising chorus of concerned educators begging you to pay attention.
As the interface we use to engage with technology becomes more user friendly, the knowledge we need to access our files, photos, programs, & data becomes less and less important. Why do I need to know about directories if I can search my files in Windows (are you searching in Windows? Are you sure? Do you know what that bar you're typing into is part of? Where it's looking)? Maybe you don't have any files on your computer at all-- maybe they're on the cloud through OneDrive, or backed up through Google. Some of you reading this may know exactly where and how your files are stored. Many of you probably don't, and that's okay. For most people, being able to access a file in as short a time as possible is what they prioritize.
The problem is, when you as a consumer are only using a tool, you are intrinsically limited by the functions that tool is advertised to have. Worse yet, when the tool fails or is insufficient for what you need, you have no way of working outside of that tool. You'll need to consult an expert, which is usually expensive.
When you as a consumer understand a tool, your options are limitless. You can break it apart and put it back together in just the way you like, or you can identify what parts of the tool you need and search for more accessible or affordable options that focus more on your specific use-case.
The problem-- and to be clear, I do not blame Gen Z & Gen Alpha for what I'm about to outline-- is that this user-friendly interface has fostered a culture that no longer troubleshoots. If something on the computer doesn't work well, it's the computer's fault. It's UI should be more intuitive, and it it's not operating as expected, it's broken. What I'm seeing more and more of is that if something's broken, students stop there. They believe there's nothing they can do. They don't actively seek out solutions, they don't take to Google, they don't hop on Reddit to ask around; they just... stop. The gap in knowledge between where they stand and where they need to be to begin troubleshooting seems to wide and inaccessible (because the fundamental structure of files/directories is unknown to many) that they don't begin.
This isn't demonstrative of a lack of critical thinking, but without the drive to troubleshoot the number of opportunities to develop those critical thinking skills are greatly diminished. How do you communicate an issue to someone online? How do look for specific information? How do you determine whether that information is specifically helpful to you? If it isn't, what part of it is? This process fosters so many skills that I believe are at least partially linked to the ability to read and write effectively, and for so many of my students it feels like a complete non-starter.
We need basic computer classes back in schools. We need typing classes, we need digital media classes, we need classes that talk about computers outside of learning to code. Students need every opportunity to develop critical thinking skills and the ability to self-reflect & self correct, and in an age of misinformation & portable technology, it's more important now than ever.
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Max Verstappen x American Fem Red Bull Driver
Max is in love with her and wants a chance to make her happy, but she can't forget her ex-boyfriend, with whom she has an on-and-off relationship. Her ex-boyfriend is not a total stranger. Joe Burrow, one of the main players of the current generation of American football, in which he plays as quarterback for the Cincinatti Bengals, has known Y/N since childhood, as they are both from the state of Ohio, he is also very passionate about her and tries to make the relationship continue at a distance, as she lives in Monaco. Y/N needs to make a decision about who will occupy the space in her heart. P.S: I don't know anything about American football, but one day a Joe Burrow edit appeared on TikTok and I fell in love with it. This is not to mention anything related to American football, just to mention that Burrow also wants to fight Max for her heart.
Take my heart and do as you want - Max Verstappen x RedBullDriver! Reader x Joe Burrow
Plot: You are a RedBull driver with one of the most notable relationships on the grid due to it's on and off nature. After a really rocky patch, they are currently broken up and she starts to see her team-mate in a different light.
Credit to a-moment-captured for the GIF
You'd had the best season of your life after being promoted to RedBull. But that came with it being an insanely busy season, more exhausting and more duties to attend to. When you were in the beta RB team it hadn't really mattered as you weren't as admired as a driver on the grid but now being in a top performing team there was definitely more media attention on you.
This really affected your relationship with your now ex-boyfriend Joe Burrow, you'd dated him when you were both in high school and continued that relationship on into your adult lives.
At first when you didn't have the money to move out of state because all your money, and all your parents money went on racing, which wasn't as cheap or easy a career path as it was for Joe getting into Football and being given scholarships for college.
You had to work tooth and nail for your place in the sport. But you and Joe recently had been struggling with, well just being together in general. You'd made the decision to move to Monaco it made sense as a lot of your colleagues and friends resided there and now that you were earning more from being in Red Bull, it meant that you benefited from the tax regime there.
But that move put a massive strain on your relationship with Joe, you'd know each other for years and were childhood sweethearts, so of course you tried long distance.
It was hard because it wasn't just long distance, you both had such busy schedules that finding just time to call each other was unlikely.
Eventually Joe called it quits over the phone, the very next day you crashed out when Charles Leclerc's brakes disconnected and he cut you off going into a turn.
Joe had text you straight away that he was flying out to come and see you and make sure you were okay.
Thus was the start of the post-relationship era into the weird era where nobody not even yourselves knew if you were together or not. You loved each other so much, you were each others first in everything and this is the man you thought you'd end up marrying one day.
To the media, you were in this weird on and off relationship. When your schedules linked up, you were seen together for days on end be that in a random country where you race was, a football stadium in America where you were cheering him on, or in your new home of Monaco. But when you weren't together or close to having to separate you'd be seen arguing and fighting. You'd once even gone as far as to an-add each other on socials when a video came out of Joe in a club where he looked pretty close and cosy with a girl.
You obviously knew you couldn't stop him from seeing other people, that would be insane but you would have liked confirmation that you guys were seeing other people. As that would have been your final straw to cut emotional tie's with Joe.
Joe was special to you, and you thought he always would be. There was part of you that would always love him, and there was part of him that would always love you. But it was hard to ever let go of that which is where this vicious back and forth cycle came from.
However, the most recent time you'd been in one of your off periods your team-mate Max who you'd known also from childhood, not as early on as Joe but from about age 13 when you were doing Karting had started acting differently towards you.
"Hey Y/N, I saw these and remembered you like them" he said on the first occasion handing you a box of chocolates that you only really would treat yourself to around Christmas.
"Hey Y/N, I brought you this last weekend because you won!" he exclaimed handing you a little Monaco flag on a keychain because you won your race there.
"Hey Y/N! Marko said you needed a drink, so i brought you that Gauva juice your trainer makes for you" he smiled handing you the glass while you were sat in the Red Bull hospitality watching your on board from FP1.
And it continued, random little acts and gifts. Max had always been rather affectionate to you even before you were team-mates, sending you small compliments and making extra efforts when he pulled your name out for secret Santa.
You also started to notice his sourness whenever Joe was around particularly when you guys were racing on home turf where all of your friends came from.
"Joe baby, can you grab my helmet for me?" you asked him politely as you struggled getting all your wispy bits of hair tucked fully into your balaclava. However, he was scrolling on his phone, not listening to the request at hand.
"Here you go, at least I listen... unlike some of us" Max frowned looking directly at Joe to see even if that would get a reaction form him, which it did.
"Oh I'm sorry love. It's so loud in these garages! Here let me put it on for you. You know I like doing that!" he smiles at you placing his phone in his pocket and looking towards you.
"Thank you for grabbing it Max!" you smile at your team-mate before handing it to Joe. He makes sure your braid is in the best position before slipping it onto your head and kissing the top of you helmet. He kept looking over at Max the whole time.
He'd always been a little suspicious of Max's intentions towards his girlfriend, even before the move to become his team-mate and now that they shared a garage it was ten times worse.
He was constantly worried he was loosing you and the more you focused on your sport the more you would be prey to Max's advances and he'd win you over which Joe didn't want at all.
Joe loved you and he always would which is what hurt so much about the distance created between you two.
"Good luck in the race baby. i love you so much and your gonna do great!" he smiles down at you.
You give him a hug before running off to the garage where they would roll your car out onto track ahead of the formation lap.
You won that race, you and Max had a tense race constantly taking over one another while defending together from Lando who was in P3 until the last two laps where you got the upper hand and pushed in front despite being on the older tires.
Come the next race weekend you and Joe had probably had one of your most spiteful arguments to date.
"No, because why is it always me making the travel?" he had asked you.
"Because you play in just America baby. I drive round the world and it fucks me up with all the time difference changes espeically if I'm doing the Middle East back to you or Australia back to you" you try to explain but you could tell he was getting more frustrated with everything yoy said.
"Look, I love you, and you know I do. But right now I feel like I'm the only one making the effort!" he sighs rubbing his head.
"How can you say that?" you gasped in horror thinking of all the things you had sacrificed to try and make this work.
"It's always me coming to see you, you're never home anymore. I see your parents more than you do. All our friends miss you but your out here playing happy driver?" he chides throwing his hands up in exasperation.
"You know The States haven't been my home in a while Joe. How dare you fucking say this when you're the one who gave up on us first! I fought for us but YOU said you couldn't do this distance. Then when it got to much you came crawling back begging for my forgiveness..." you said raising your voice.
"It's just not fair when I'm making all these sacrifices for you and I see nothing in return!" he exclaims looking at you as you stood up to go get a glass of water.
"How is it just you making sacrifices! I declined my first shot in a RedBull seat for you and they gave it to Checo! I'm lucky they asked me a second time to replace him! Not many other people would have had that offer. I send you money to help pay for the house because I chose to move out! I've left the race track without doing media duties so i can catch a 15 hour direct flight just to come see you, yet I don't do enough?" you yell at him.
"Y/N please let's not argue. You know I love you and I'd do anything for you, for us please!" he cries looking at you his eyes a little glassy from the argument.
"No! I've been so stressed these path months and you keep telling me, it's fine, its going to be fine, we're going to be fine, this bad patch will pass soon, when all i wanted was you to comfort me and hug me and tell me it's okay to feel that way not try and dismiss my feelings!" you scream at him and he looks at you in shock.
After that it was like something possessed both of you to say what you both hated about the other which when you looked at it after they were actually all the things you loved about him because they were what made him, well him the man you fell in love with.
However, it was such a bad breakup that Joe was once again spotted in a night club. He'd text you the next morning apologizing saying he didn't mean any of it and it was just all a really big mistake.
You'd spent the day crying in your drivers room before the start of FP1. You felt so alone and like you couldn't talk to anyone.
"Y/N?" you heard the soft Dutch accent ask from the other side of the door. You held your sobs in and waited until it sounded like Max had left before you let a jagged breath out.
"Y/N, let me come in" you hear Max as making you get up and unlock the little bolt on the door.
"Are you-" he asks before he can fully look at you. You go back to the sofa and curl up into the ball you were in before he got there.
"Oh Schat, come here" he says as he takes a seat next to you with his arms open.
"I don't know what to do!" you cried into him while he played with your hair and rubbed your back comfortingly.
"Why do you keep doing this to yourself" he sighs pulling your chin up and looking you in the eyes.
"What do you mean?" you ask cocking your head to the side.
"This on and off toxic, viscous circle with Joe. It's not healthy and you only ever make yourself upset" he sighs, pulling some hair behind your ear.
"I don't know..." you sigh, thinking about all of it.
"Maybe I can help" he smiles. In Max's mind this may be the only chance he gets to admit his feeling for you, to you. And he wasn't going to waste that opportunity no matter the potential out come.
He leaned in and pulled you in for a kiss, you kissed back shocked what was going on. And eventually molded into it until a voice in the back of you head reminded you of how much you loved Joe even if you were broken up.
"Max no s-stop!" you mumble as you push him back and when you look over your team-mate he looks heartbroken.
You sit there for a second, kissing Max was so different to kissing Joe. Kissing Joe was familiar and comforting and full of love and the kindness that was Joe Burrow. But kissing Max was passionate, impulsive and a different kind of affection. Something new. And you couldn't put your finger on why Max made you feel like that from something as simple as a kiss.
You wanted to try it again.
So you leaned in, pulling his jaw closer to you until your lips met and the kiss was aggressive and both of you were fighting for more power. Just like you did on track.
But again, you pulled away a little voice at the back of your mind telling you this isn't something you should be pursuing as Joe will come back and apologize for the argument. Just like he always did.
"I-I'm confused ..." you say tears welling in your eyes. As you look over at Max.
"You need to leave!" you say immediately pushing him out the room and locking the door.
You stood there, not knowing what you were feeling or what to even think.
The only thing on your mind is that you were hopelessly stuck in between two boys and your stuck feeling for one of them, whilst growing feeling for the other.
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @formula1mount @tinydeskwriter @butterfly-lover @ironmaiden1313
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1#formula one#formula one fanfiction#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#mv33 fic#mv33 x reader#mv1 x reader#mv33#mv1#joe burrow#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow x y/n#joe burrow imagine#joe burrow fan fic#cincinnati bengals#red bull racing#max verstappen fluff#joe burrow x you
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— 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞
abby anderson x reader
★ summary ⸻ abby feels terrible, she don't want you to spend time with her knowing that you thrive on social interactions. She feels like she's holding you captive with her introverted ways.
★ sfw! ⸻ purely fluff! very lovey dovey 😩 including; i love u's, usage of nicknames, mention of marriage 🫣. and anything else i forgot to add. this is for ( @paqerings ) they requested " https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPRcgu17H/ - this for abby"
★ taglist ⸻@paqerings @vvynia @slut4mascss tag-list is open :)
★ note ⸻i was planning on having this fic out wayyyy sooner but college work took to much of my time. also, after this and a couple more of tlou i will be posting aot content as well!! so stay tuned for that. i hope this doesn't flop ( first time doing anything other nfsw related ) okay bye. now read 💋
⸻ 4:30pm. evening. jacksonville florida. summertime
this is probably the most relaxing evening you ever had in your entire existence. you felt the most safe at home with abby. you had no problem dropping everything to be with abby at home, doing the most mundane things known to mankind. some of your friends would even say you and abby are in yall the "boring couple era" however, the way you would rephrase it would be, "quality time". you didn't mind doing things that might feel boring to others with abby like watching TV, reading together on the couch, or even doing a puzzle on a friday night rather than going out to a club. it didn't matter what. just along you were being touched by her presence. and you know, when the time comes she will be there to cater to your social needs. always.
"I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make- I feel bad
you were feeling like a gooey pile of mush. it didn't matter how many times you re-watch 10 things i hate about you it seems like that movie had the undertone superpower to make you feel like your heart has been broken into a million pieces - and the craziest thing is that they are fictional characters. astonishing. you were so hypnotized by the movie that abby's words fell deafly onto your ears. with a small touch from abby, you peeled your eyes away from kat and patrick. looking at the sight of your beautiful girlfriend, the small colored freckles scattered all around the bridge of her nose. The best feature you loved was her nose and her watercolor eyes. the way her eyes would create this type of expression was only found in the imitation of the wild ocean water. you adored how blue they were under the shining light and how dark they would become in the shadows. "hm?" you blinked a couple of times, staying still upon her sight.
the pads of her fingers slowly and lightly stroke the peak of your shoulder. you moved in closer, head tilting in the process. "you okay abs?" you spoke softly. the guilt-ridden expression painted on abby's face, her chest heaved . "I feel bad" Abby's hand immediately went to the back of her neck while lowering her head. "oh baby" you cooed. the palms of your hands reaching the warmth of her cheeks, lifting her face to make her look at you." why? My love" god. if y'all couldn't get any closer. you moved from the soft cushion onto abby's lap. you draped your arm around her neck while your fingers found the shell of her ear; playing with it to soothe her overwhelming nerves.
"mmcht - I don't know. I feel like you shouldn't be doing this. you should be out - with your friends. I don't want you to be forced to be here just because-
"imma stop you right there, abs" Your lips drew this amused smile, her warm plumped lips being covered by your hand. her eyes flickered down to your hand and quickly back up to your orbs whilst her eyebrow frowned a bit -- giving the impression she was gonna whimper a bit. however, the hand that played with the ruffles of your satin shorts never stopped.
"When I first met you I knew we were the total opposite. I knew that I was more extroverted than you are. which is okay. I didn't let your social awkwardness or your introverted ways stop me from dating and loving you" you reassured. your eyes soften, you love abby with all your heart and when you love someone, you love them whole.
Your hand vibrated against abby's moving lips for a mintue or two. "I agree" you let out a small laugh. you both forgot your hand was taking up space on her face. she removed your hand from her mouth and into her own and as if it was a daily routine between her and you, she intertwined her calloused finger in between yours. "I enjoy my solitude, but ever since I met you I enjoy it even more when you're in it" abby whispered the small confession, god. there are not enough words in the universe to express the amount of love you harbored in your heart for them.
"I love you. I really do" You were lost for words, you love it when abby expressed these types of thoughts she had for you. abby heart swelled with pride at being your girlfriend because she never met someone capable of understanding her in a way she thought only she would. you are her soulmate. In a quick small vision, abby had imagined you in this most beautiful wedding dress known to man and with your ring finger decorated with the most expensive ring ever.
you notice abby was deep into thought so you nudged her slightly, "penny for your thoughts?"
"you wanna get marry?" abby spoke nonchalantly. you were taken back, as one would in this situation. Your eyes practically popping out of your sockets. "what?" you exclaimed.
abby shrugged her shoulders," I mean it"
you dwelled about it for a minute. me? mrs. anderson. that does sound good.
the enddd. 💋
#writers on tumblr#writing#black fem reader#abby tlou#writerscommunity#abby anderson smut#abby x you#abby x reader#abby anderson#abby the last of us#tlou abby#tlog#abby anderson sumt#mass lesbian#abby x fem!reader#abby x reader sumt#abby x y/n#abby sumt#abby anderson fluff#abby anderson sfw#wlw ns/fw#wlw love#abby anderson hcs
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Rewind 2023 - Part I
WangxianFicRecs - Rewind 2023
Part one of our favourite stories published in 2023. If you also want to give a shout-out to a story, submit an ask and we will share it in an upcoming post featuring Follower Recs and Proud Author Spotlights.
~*~
Call again
by apathyinreverie (@apathyinreverie)
T, 5k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec
Summary: “Brother?” Lan Zhan picks up the call, voice sleep-rough from being woken so late.
There is a pause.
“Well,” an unfamiliar voice replies, notably cheerful, though overloud and the slightest bit slurred in a way that identifies the speaker as likely not being entirely sober, perfectly matching the loud music and din of voices in the background. “Not quite, actually.”
(Or, Wei Ying meets a drunk LXC at a bar. They promptly devolve into being chaos gremlins together.)
~*~
Fight Me?
by Witch_Nova221 (@witchnova221)
G, 5k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec
Summary: A tidied up version of this original threadfic
Nurse Wei Ying has an interesting encounter with a patient on his night shift who is intent on starting a fight with him.
~*~
💙 Paths untaken
by apathyinreverie (@apathyinreverie)
T, 6k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec
Summary: The thing is, the Cloud Recesses are big and Caiyi is even bigger.
(Or, Lan Zhan chooses differently at Qiongqi Path.)
~*~
Kintsugi
by sortablue (@yinyangbuns)
E, 2k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec
Summary: Wei Wuxian had thought he was more well-adjusted; or, at least, that the thing that would set him off would be a little more impressive than a broken tea set.
How funny that out of all the things that haunted his nightmares, this was the thing that chose to ruin his perfectly good day.
(Or, Wei Wuxian’s treatment at Lotus Pier at the hands of Madam Yu has lasting affects that he previously had not thought to consider.)
~*~
💙 Su She Eats his Heart Out
by KizuKatana (@kizukatana)
T, 16k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec
Summary: The (bitter) third party pov of the epic college romance between Wei Ying and Lan Zhan, as told from the pettiest NPC to ever exist.
- - - - -
A new student transferred into the university in their second year, and Su She was gleeful to see how much Lan Zhan was irritated by him from the very first day that the student (Wei something) showed up late for class with a ratty hoodie pulled up over his head and proceeded to sleep through lecture. Finally, someone else would be the butt of everyone’s jokes as they watched Wei Ying constantly try and fail to get Lan Zhan’s attention. When midterm grades came out, Su She was expecting the guy to be humiliated.
That was… not what happened.
Worse still, Lan Zhan was now actually turning his head to look at the guy when he spoke. And... wait, was Lan Zhan… putting his hand on the guy’s ass?!
No. Su She does not accept this.
~*~
Into the murk
by MissCellophane (@misscellophane-ao3)
G, 1k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec
Summary: Wei Wuxian is dead.
Lan Wangji wouldn't believe those words until he sees it for himself.
~*~
Sit Properly!
by Nightfeather18
T, 1k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec
Summary: It started innocently, just a note to tell Wei Wuxian to sit straight, it did not stay that way.
~*~
💙 at first sight of the sun
by sunflowersfield
T, 3k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec
Summary: “There are days,” he says slowly, choosing his words with care, “when I do not feel like speaking. Or, I simply do not have any words. It is…difficult to explain,” he admits.
Wei Ying nods. “I think I understand,” he responds thoughtfully. “But Lan Zhan,” he adds nervously, “you know I was just joking about the daily compliments, right? I don’t really expect you to do that!”
Or: Lan Zhan is a researcher at a forest preserve, and Wei Ying has just been hired to work at the front desk.
~*~
The Moon Reflected Upon Two Springs
by Rubberduckieassassin (@rubberduckieassassin)
M, 2k, Wen Ning | Kay's Rec
Summary: In many ways, this part of Wen Ning’s existence has felt like winter. Winter is the most Yin of all the seasons. It is a time of stillness and quiet reflection. Remembering how to ‘live’ again as best he could.
~*~
Happy That Way
by airinshaw
E, 7k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec
Summary: Lan Zhan has allowed Wei Ying to move in with him when he has nowhere else to go. But it does mean that they'll have to share one bed.
~*~
mirror, mirror
by hauntedotamatone (@hauntotamatone)
G, 1k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec
Summary: Some people take him at his word, believing that they must have heard wrong about the child Jiang Fengmian had taken in all those years ago. They haven’t exactly heard wrong, but he isn’t lying either.
The first time Jiang-shushu had introduced him as the son of Wei Changze and Cangse Sanren, he had thought his face would split from the force of his smile. No one had argued with the sect leader, but Wei Wuxian is not a sect leader, and those of Gusu Lan do not seem to take kindly to any sort of correction. At least, if their esteemed teacher and acting sect leader is anything to go by.
or; Wei Wuxian attempts to sneak into the Cloud Recesses for a very different reason.
~*~
turn a little faster, the world will follow after
by dottie_dramas (dottie_wan_kenobi) (@dottie-wan-kenobi)
E, 5k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec
Summary: “Lan Zhan here really surprised me. When we first met, I thought ‘now here’s a guy who could probably bite my head off if I annoy him,’ but then he didn’t? You know, all of our friends in Seoul would say I’m the shameless one, but I have no idea what they’re talking about, like, have they met Lan Zhan? Gege, you’re kind of crazy.”
“Mn,” says Wangji, sounding very pleased.
“It’s okay though, I like crazy. Hey, Xichen-ge—can I call you Xichen-ge?—anyway, do you mind if I add a little something to my tea?”
“We do not imbibe alcohol in this house,” Shufu seethes.
“It’s not alcohol,” Wei Ying corrects like he expected to hear this at some point. Xichen glances at Wangji, who’s making an expression Xichen has never seen before: unbridled exasperation and fondness. Then Wei Ying pulls out a pack of what Xichen is pretty sure is chili powder.
--
Basically a modern AU where lwj and wwx both take a semester abroad while in college. They were originally in different colleges and never met before. They meet in this new college and being the weirdos they truly are, fall in love and get married within one semester.
~*~
(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for these hard-working authors if you like – or think others might like – these stories.)
#wangxian fic rec#wangxianficrecs#rewind 2023#mdzs#the untamed#wangxian#fandom event#long post#Kay's Rec#Kay's Favorite#The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation#MDZS#Mo Dao Zu Shi
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the fox files | tomorrow x together series
summary: every university has them and you know them when you see them, they lurk over every campus. the fox like men. do not be fooled though, these are men who know how to grab your attention and make you want them. here are the stories of five of those foxes at hybe university.
genre: smut, fluff, college au
warnings: sexual content, cursing, alcohol consumption at some point
extra: hi! this is my first series! i got this idea from a webtoon i read a long time ago and decided to add my twist of txt of it! i don’t know when i’ll get around to writing and finishing all of these but this will be a work in progress before the end of the year so please look forward to it! if you’d like to join my taglist and be updated when i post, please fill out this form in my navigation!
meet the foxes:
kang taehyun: the show off
how to even begin to describe kang taehyun? most would say he’s the stuck up sports major who liked to take his shirt off every moment he saw you walking by the gym. others would say he was the one who intentionally stood behind you during your yoga class to get a good view of your ass. taehyun would agree to both of these.
-> coming soon
choi soobin: the cry baby
you hadn’t seen choi soobin in a while until he showed up at your dorm room crying saying he’d just broken up with the love of his life. of course you wanted to comfort him, he was the love of your life after all. you invited him in and quickly he would find out just how much he meant to you and what he could do to your body.
-> coming soon
choi yeonjun: the best friend
choi yeonjun was known all around the campus as the one male student with no male friends. if you ever saw him, he’d be tied at the hip with a female student, especially you. it got to the point everyone thought you two were dating. one night, the two of you are together with a group of friends who are all too drunk to function when you both realize how badly you want to fuck the other.
-> coming soon
huening kai: the partier
huening kai’s parties. everyone wanted to go to one at least once before they graduated. if you weren’t invited to kai’s parties, it was safe to say you weren’t popular, pretty, or rich. how you ended up at that party the friday before your finals was a mystery. it was even more of a mystery how kai got his fingers deeply buried in your pussy before the night was over.
-> coming soon
choi beomgyu: the crusher
it definitely wasn’t a secret how much sophomore choi beomgyu had liked you. ever since the first day you showed up campus for your freshman orientation, he had he eyes set on you. after working together for the students sports day, beomgyu knew he wanted you in ever which-way possible, including on your knees in front of him.
-> coming soon
written by fairybin. no copying, reposting, rewriting, or translating of any kind.
#fb.the fox files#txt smut#txt hard hours#txt hard thoughts#soobin hard hours#soobin smut#soobin hard thoughts#yeonjun hard hours#yeonjun hard thoughts#yeonjun smut#beomgyu smut#beomgyu hard thoughts#beomgyu hard hours#taehyun hard thoughts#taehyun smut#taehyun hard hours#huening kai smut#huening kai hard thoughts#huening kai hard hours#txt series
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death by a thousand cuts | njm
summary : in which you find yourself watching as jaemin gradually becomes out of reach; forcing you to confront the painful reality that your story is heading towards an inevitable end, even if you’re not ready to admit it.
pairing : jaemin x fem! reader
genre : college au, angst
word count : 2.5k
playlist : the last time, you’re losing me, sad beautiful tragic
in your dimly lit room, the blue light from your phone screen cast a cold hue as you stared at the last message you received from jaemin. you had been seeing the same words for what felt like an eternity, as if they were mocking you, each repetition intensifying the sense of heartache and resignation you felt.
'i’ll be right back'
you let out a heavy sigh, carrying the burden of disappointment and frustration. a week had passed in the blink of an eye, and his silence felt louder than ever. you were stuck in a cycle of waiting, hoping things would change with each passing moment.
jaemin’s words had become an echo of broken promises. it wasn't the first time, but the disappointment still hurt. you glanced at the screen, feeling a mix of emotions. the exhaustion of always being the only one begging for effort and acknowledgement bore down on you. with a heavy heart, you set your phone down, facing the reality that you needed to let go of the relationship that no longer served you.
paper cuts had turned into gashes. the resentment over small things, continuously dismissed thinking they weren't significant enough, had boiled over, sending you to your gradual demise.
FIVE MONTHS AGO
'hey jaem, are you doing something right now? i miss you :('
‘i’m sorry, baby. i'm not done with my cases and research yet. also we’re studying for upcoming exams’
‘oh, okay. no worries! make sure to get enough rest when you’re home.’
‘you too, love’
a twinge of sadness and disappointment crept into your heart. while you understood the gravity of jaemin's aspirations and the difficult nature of dating a medical student, the challenges of your on-and-off relationship lingered. this was the longest you had gone through with jaemin without breaking up. resisting the urge to let past grievances resurface, you chose to keep most of your emotions to yourself, knowing that voicing them out was not going to make anything better and would only add to his stress. you didn't want to burden jaemin with your feelings or ignite conflicts during a time where his focus needed to be on his studies.
you busied yourself by scrolling through your phone and randomly navigating your friends' instagram stories. jeno's post grabbed your attention, featuring a group picture that included your boyfriend. however, your focus shifted when you noticed eunbin among the faces. her connection with jaemin as his childhood friend, as well as her evident feelings for him even before you entered the picture, weighed on your mind. you felt a bit uneasy thinking about the situation. you wondered if her being around might bring back unresolved feelings or make things even more complicated for you and jaemin.
you tossed your phone on the bed, redirecting your attention to something else to shake off the sudden drop in mood. even though you didn't want to feel jealous of eunbin, it was hard not to. she liked your boyfriend and confessed to him before you got together. despite his reassurances and the clear boundaries he set, a pang of jealousy still remained. you had to accept eunbin's role as one of his closest friends, a constant presence in his life. there was not much you could do to change it.
after a long day of busying yourself to focus more on your academic life, you felt your phone buzz with a text message from jaemin.
‘hey! are you free today? let’s go on a date :) i miss you a lot.’
‘sorry, im too tired to go out these days. i just want to rest after spending so much time studying’
‘oh no baby :( it’s fine. do you want anything? we can just stay and laze around all day in your place instead. but only if you want to’
‘okay’
an hour later, you heard a buzz at your door, and there was jaemin, wearing a smile and holding some of your favorite snacks. you took them from him as he settled into your place. while you prepared the food, jaemin came up from behind, giving you a hug and planting a gentle kiss on the back of your head. he then rested his chin on your shoulder.
"we don't see each other a lot these days. i missed you so much," your heart tightened, a sudden rush of longing and sadness enveloping you. you missed him a lot too. since you got back together, you've been suppressing a lot of your thoughts to avoid another breakup. however, the past few months have been challenging, and you felt like even the smallest thing might cause you to break down emotionally.
“i missed you too,” you whispered in reply.
jaemin was not clueless. you've been together for more than two years and he could easily sense if there was something off about you. he noticed that you began to distance yourself from him. your responses to his messages were brief and dry, picking up on the growing disconnection. he, too, was afraid to bring it up, opting to ignore the underlying problems that had been bothering both of you for a while. he would rather pretend as if everything was fine than risk a conversation and face the possibility of losing you again.
he feared that if you two were to break up once more, it might truly be the end. a sharp stab of pain coursed through his chest with that thought.
THREE MONTHS AGO
you were starting to fall asleep when your peace was suddenly interrupted by your phone ringing. noticing it was a call from mark, you answered.
‘mark?’
‘hey, y/n, sorry to bother you. can you pick jaemin up?’
‘huh? where?’
‘we’re at a bar right now, i’ll text you the address. i can’t bring all of us home and i also drank a little. hope you don’t mind.’
‘yeah, it’s fine. i’ll be on my way.’
‘thanks y/n.’
you left your place once you received the address from mark. you arrived at the bar a little later, scanning the place for the familiar group of guys. you spotted mark, struggling to separate himself from haechan's grasp.
“hey.”
“oh, y/n, you’re here.” jeno waved at you. “jaemin, your girlfriend’s here.” jeno shook him violently, prompting him to get up.
“y/n, did you know? jaemin said that you’ve been-“ haechan groaned in pain as mark slapped his back to stop him from talking.
“you guys should go. jaemin is dead drunk, he almost fell asleep on the bathroom.”
“alright, we’re off. you guys take care on your way home.” you bid farewell to them as you held jaemin for support.
the night air was cool as you stepped outside, hailing for a cab. after some effort, you managed to get him inside, settling into the backseat. jaemin was mostly asleep on the ride home. despite some difficulty getting him out and bringing him to your place, you eventually managed to settle him on the couch. you took off his shoes before getting a damped towel and offering him a glass of water.
“jaemin, do you need anything?” you asked him quietly while wiping his face with the towel. he was silent for a while as you helped him into a more comfortable position.
“you’ve been spending a lot of time with eric,” he murmured. you raised your eyebrows in confusion. you’ve only seen the guy twice this week for some club related-activities.
“stop seeing him, or he might get the wrong idea.”
oh.
jaemin had mentioned before that he didn't like eric, claiming that whenever you two took a break, the latter guy saw it as an opportunity to make a move on you. however, jaemin misinterpreted eric's intention, being one of your friends who comforted you during your breakups. while he hinted at liking you at some point, he respected your boundaries and never attempted to cross the line. all your friends knew that jaemin was the center of your world, even at times when you were supposed to forget about him.
“we’ll talk about that tomorrow when you’re sobered up. you need to get some rest now.” you said, standing up to get him a pillow and a blanket. however, he held your wrist, pulling you back to sit on the couch.
“you’ve changed…” he uttered out of the blue, and a sigh escaped your lips. jaemin had a tendency to ramble when he was drunk. it seemed best to let him express whatever was on his mind.
"you used to make time for me, no matter how busy you got. you always found a way for us to spend time together, even when i was swamped with tasks. but now... you're not as affectionate as before and it feels like you love me a little less. you don't get mad, and you don't seem to care even when i try to ignore you on purpose to get your attention. are you getting sick of me?"
your breath shuddered at his sudden confession. it seemed like the first time jaemin was the first to address your situation while being completely honest about his feelings. it never even crossed your mind that he was ignoring you intentionally. up until now, you had always been the one initiating the difficult conversations. every time you bared your soul, hoping jaemin would make things right, it often ended up having the opposite effect. despite his attempts to take your feelings into consideration and provide solace and affirmations, the impact seemed to fade after a few days, leaving you feeling unheard. eventually, you started to question yourself if you were maybe asking for too much. so you stopped trying, which was the turning point that led to your last breakup.
when jaemin asked to get back together, you couldn't bring yourself to refuse, just like all those times you had taken him back before. despite of the emotional turmoil in your relationship, your love for jaemin remained unwavering. being with him, even with the fights and his occasional neglect, felt a thousand times better than not being with him at all. but now, you weren't sure if you could still bear the pain that came with loving him. a sense of uncertainty settled heavily in your heart, feeling a lump formed in your throat.
“you can’t blame me for getting tired when it feels like i’m the only one trying,” your tears began to flow freely, feeling overwhelmed as all your frustrations and hurt hit you all at once. “you keep saying you love me, but your actions say otherwise. i’ve grown sick of showing my love while not seeing you put in the same effort as i do. sometimes, i want to ask if you still love me the way you once did. because if there’s anyone who changed, jaemin, it’s you. you stopped trying the moment our relationship became too comfortable.” you wiped your tears, the sound of muffled sobs echoing in the silence.
“you have no idea how much i’ve been bottling up my feelings. the pain that has built over these years of being with you is suffocating. i want to let out my frustrations, scream at you, and demand your attention, especially when you seem to have time for everyone else but me. even though i know how busy you can get, i can't help but find it unfair, because for you, i would drop everything. i’ve been keeping count of all the times you claimed to be too occupied to be there for me when i needed you the most, only for me to find out that you were hanging out with your friends. your world doesn’t have to revolve around me, but i just want to feel that i still hold a place in your life.”
jaemin's glassy eyes remained fixed on you. even in his intoxicated state, he became acutely aware of all the things he had done wrong in the relationship and the impact it had on you. he had always played it safe, choosing to overlook the signs and letting you suffer on your own. he didn't realize the gravity of the damage he had inflicted on the person he claimed to love. it broke his heart taking in how far he had allowed things to go. with tears streaming down his face, his hand reached out for you.
“i’m so sorry i made you feel that way… i’m sorry for everything,” he whispered in remorse, drawing you into his arms. closing his eyes, he kissed your forehead tenderly as a silent plea for forgiveness. his chest felt heavy with the weight of regret as the painful reality sank in. he wished he could shelter you from every mistake he had ever made.
“i don’t want your apology. i just want us to go back to the way things were before.” your words carried the weight of longing for the happiness that once defined your relationship.
but the air was thick with unspoken truth. you both knew, that no matter what happens now, the two of you can no longer return to how things used to be.
PRESENT
three weeks had passed since the last time you and jaemin spoke. despite sharing tears together that night he got drunk, not much had changed. jaemin became cautious, and you were left wondering whether he would do something to alter the state of your relationship, considering you already said your piece. yet, it appeared that both of you had silently acknowledged the reality that there was little you could do, having allowed things to reach a point beyond saving.
you found yourselves in a tug-of-war, each waiting for the other to end the relationship. however, you hoped he would be the one to pull the trigger this time, because he never made an attempt to ask you to stay. if you were the one to do it, you feared weakness might overcome you if he were to return again. so, you wished for him to take the decisive step to allow you to truly feel that everything was over for both of you. yet, deep down, a small part of you remained hopeful that he would defy your expectations and fight for what was left.
but even when it came down to it, jaemin couldn't muster the courage to call it quits. in your mind, you were begging him not to leave you like this. after everything you had been through together, he couldn't possibly walk away without saying anything.
but as the hours turned to days, days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to months, the truth of the matter set in; you must move on to the next phase of your life without reaching a conclusion to the final chapter of your story. until the very end, jaemin couldn't find the words to cut the ties that bound you. instead, he chose the easy way out, one that was hard only for you, leaving behind a heartbreak that time alone couldn't mend and abandoning you to tend to the pieces of your shattered self.
you were left with no choice but to miss him for the rest of your life, each passing moment a reminder of the void he left behind.
#jaemin scenario#jaemin imagine#jaemin x reader#jaemin x you#jaemin x y/n#jaemin scenarios#jaemin imagines#nct dream fic#nct dream angst#jaemin angst#jaemin x fem reader#nct dream x reader#jaemin fanfic#na jaemin#nct dream imagines#nct fic#nct dream
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AITA for implying my sister’s a transphobe?
For context: i’m a nonbinary girl and at the time had recently broken up with my trans girlfriend of a year. I also have very different political stances than my sister, which historically makes me very frustrated (she’s a liberal so very into making sure people have rights but never acknowledging the structural problems that cause minority hatred/prejudice).
So my sister and i were playing a videogame together and having a great and fun time. We were switching the game and there was an add for Hogwarts Legacy on her home screen, which we both saw. I genuinely don’t remember who commented on it first. Either i said something like “ugh, please don’t get that godawful game” or she said something like “oh i wanna get/play this game”. Knowing me it was probably the former. A throwaway comment for sure. Either way, that started a little argument between us.
More context: my sister and i both grew up as avid potterheads. I was even more obsessed with it than her, as a lonely middle schooler with no friends, harry potter was my favorite avenue of escapism and basically my main coping method. Which is why i was so devastated when, in 2020, i found out about all the terf shit jkr had been posting and supporting. It felt like losing a close friend, and so it’s a subject around which i have a lot of pain thinking/talking about. But my sister (cishet) usually thinks I’m overreacting. She doesn’t support jkr’s rhetoric but doesn’t think that supporting her or her work monetarily is a bad thing whatsoever. Mainly she believes it simply won’t make a difference to her bottom line.
Anywho, we were arguing about Hogwarts Legacy and how i think that she shouldn’t give jkr any money regardless of how closely she was involved with the production, since she’s getting profit from it regardless. Sister brings up that she’s seen trans people who want to buy and play the game, and that i’m not the authority on the issue. I tell her that the people saying that are not the majority of the community, and that maybe she should listen to the person who’s actually trans and sitting right next to her. She disagrees, and i say “then just don’t call yourself an ally”. I don’t quite remember what she said, but the argument didn’t last long after that.
We continued playing whatever videogame, and then i excused myself to have dinner. When i came back k stopped by her room to share a fun fact, and she confronted me about how much it hurt her that i said she wasn’t an ally. She told me that she had put in real work by taking an intersectionality class in college, and by attending trans rights protests — all of which i’ve never done (mostly because of mental health issues i won’t get into). She was crying and upset, and i told her i was sorry for having that conversation at a bad time, and for how i phrased my thoughts, but that i didn’t take back what i said about her not being an ally and to say i was would be lying. I didn’t say much more because i saw how upset she was and didn’t think that was a good time to argue about my opinions - so we decided to talk about it later when she was calmer.
I still haven’t started that conversation because i haven’t decided if what i said was unnecessary and made me an asshole, or if what i said was justified and she needed to hear it. It’s been a few months now and we’re both back in college and living hours away from each other in different countries.
So, tumblr, AITA?
What are these acronyms?
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VALENTINE'S DAY (chuya edition)
chuya takes valentine's day very seriously.
chuya x gn!reader, established relationship, chuya spoils reader,
a/n ~ my first time writing for chuya i'm so sorry...
words ~ 1.8k
second post for my valentine's day collection ( ๑>ᴗ<๑ )
chuya absolutely loves valentine's day. he loves having any excuse to spoil you rotten. by the time february 1st rolls around, he already has everything planned and dinner reserved at 3 restaurants in case anything were to go wrong.
unfortunately for him, his schedule as a mafia executive stops him from being able to spend the whole day with you. but don't worry, he'll more than makeup for it this evening.
9 am, february 14th, you find yourself strolling through port mafia hq, on your way to meet up with the black lizard for the day. seemingly by coincidence, you run into your lovely boyfriend, chuya. well... it's more that he runs into you.
"y/n! you're not even gonna say hello?" you hear his iconic, smug voice call out from behind you. you must have walked right past him. you turn around and scan your eyes through the crowd of nameless pawns until your eyes land on that stupid fucking hat. everyone moves aside as chuya makes his way to you, making you aware of all the eyes staring directly at you and him as he comes closer.
"hello," you say, giggling, unable to contain your wide smile. he comes much closer than he should need to and grabs your right hand, encasing it with both of his. "happy valentine's day, love." he says, barely audible, just loud enough for you to hear it.
chuya has this way of looking at you that makes you feel like you're the finest treasure in yokohama. you look away from him, still smiling uncontrollably, and start pulling on your clothes with your left hand. the butterflies he gives you, doing no favors to help your nerves.
most people have looked away by now, taking chuya's low tone as a sign of desired privacy. the exception, of course, is the black lizard who has all huddled together, everyone either cooing or scoffing at their boss's public display.
"yes, well, happy valentine's day, chuya..." you say, whispering. he finds it cute how bashful you are even after being with him for so long. you still have pride, he supposes.
"i've gotta run, and i think you do too..." he starts, nodding at your team, staring at the two of you. you turn to face them and feel the blood rush to your face upon seeing their mixed reactions, immediately looking back at chuya. "but i'll pick you up tonight at 6, how's that sound?" he asks, but it's not really a question, so you don't answer. you simply nod your head and look down at your hand as he removes one of his.
"see ya later, hun," he adds as he brings your hand up to his mouth and kisses it. he's still smiling as he turns around and walks away, leaving you dizzy, and light-headed like you've worked a night shift. every moment with him feel like a fantasy.
a fantasy that is swiftly broken by the sound of tachihara's boyish voice. "you done swooning over mr. nakahara, or should we give you more time?" the thought of all your closest colleges watching that unfold makes you cringe. you roll your eyes and turn around, facing them all, just watching you.
"yeah, yeah, i'm ready. let's get on with it." today was going to be a long day.
you all get done for the day around 4:30. that leaves you with an hour and a half to get ready. around an hour of that time is spent on and off scrolling on your phone, and picking out what to wear. after much deliberation you go with red accents, his favorite. the last thirty minutes are spent scrambling to take a shower and get ready.
you suppose you look alright, you conclude as you look in the full-length mirror. you start fidgeting with your clothes when you hear your doorbell ring through your flat. you rush to put on your shoes and turn out the lights as you make your way to the door.
"hey!" you say, leaning on the door, cramming your shoe onto your foot. when you get your shoe on, you finally look at him, regaining your balance. he has on his nicest suit, and, no doubt, shoes. he's brought his hat to his chest as he looks at you with a smug grin and pure adoration.
"well, you clean up nice, don't ya, hun?" you chuckle as you shuffle out your door, locking it behind you. "and i suppose the same can be said for you, executive." you can't help but smile back at him.
putting his hat back on, he holds out his arm as you walk side by side. you instinctually loop your arm through his. it just feels like home. he likes how possessive you seem when you grip his arm as if it belongs to you. it does, he thinks. he belongs to you.
he walks you down to the street side where a car is waiting for you and him. a port mafia driver, no doubt. chuya strides ahead of you and opens the car door. "no bike?" you ask, somewhat relieved as you climb in the car.
chuya steps in behind you, "yeah, i know how nervous you get when i'm riding after dark." he says, laughing a little as he closes the car door. you smile and let out a sigh. in this moment, you are content.
the car starts moving, and he grabs your hand absentmindedly, playing with your fingers as he stares out the window, looking at nothing in particular. his nerves must finally be kicking in.
you notice his sudden fidgeting, but you know if you ask now, in front of the driver, he'll deny it. "so, where are we going?" you ask, squeezing his hand to grab his attention. he looks at you and just smirks. "you know what?" he starts, looking back out the window. "i think i'll let it be a surprise." he chuckles as you groan, impatiently wondering where he was taking you.
you don't have to wait long as it's barely a 5-minute drive to your destination. the driver pulls up to the front of a restaurant, and the valet opens chuya's door. once chuya is out, he ducks down and extends his hand to you, helping you out of the car.
when you get out of the car and see the entrance, it seems... familiar? you've definitely been here before, you think. chuya takes your hand and leads you through the glass doors held open by employees.
as chuya speaks to the hostess, you observe the beautiful chandeliers and baby grand piano accompanied by a live band playing smooth jazz. it hits you.
chuya is still holding your hand as he tugs you along, following the hostess to your table. "oh my god, chu!" you say, trying to keep your voice down through your excitement. "we had our first date here!"
"took you long enough," he says, glancing back at you and rolling his eyes with a smile.
the hostess leads you out to a table on the balcony, and chuya pulls out your chair for you. as you both sit down and look at the menu, you take in how serene it is outside. everyone seated on the balcony is speaking in a low voice, and you can still hear the soft music playing over idle chatter from inside.
dinner goes well as you both order steaks (chuya's favorite) and slowly nurse some red wine. he tells you about his day, annoyed by all his executive responsibilities. you tell him about how busy you were, and how the black lizard always left you tired and feeling like just another cog in the port mafia machine. a glorified pawn. you start to think how chuya is probably the biggest reason you stay anyway. although you admit, the pay is pretty good, but the work is hard.
your conversation pauses as the waiter comes up and asks if you two would like anything else. you expect chuya to say, "no, we're all done." as he always does. but tonight, chuya actually adds dessert to your order. a slice of cheesecake to share between the two of you. odd, you think. but, mayb chuya was left hungry from his meal, it wouldn't be the first time.
as you continue your conversation, droning on and on about your busy day, you notice chuya is fidgeting again, bouncing his leg under the table, thrumming his fingers. you know he's listening, but he's looking off into the background of the city lights. there's something bothering him. maybe something about work he can't tell you about?
you decide to keep talking, but you grab his hands with yours, grounding him. he looks up at you. now, he's definitely not listening to a word you say. just watching you with a dumb, probably tipsy smile. he can do it, he tells himself.
after a bit, the cheesecake comes, looking amazing. you suddenly feel you have all the room in the world for dessert as you quickly grab your fork and go to take a piece of it. however, before you can, chuya pulls the plate towards him, making you miss it entirely. you look up at him, confused and kinda annoyed.
"actually," he starts, smirking at you with a tint of pink on his face. "i thought we could have this to celebrate," he says.
"celebrate... what?" you ask, slightly scared you missed some big win of his. he sees the panic on your face and decides not to tease you. he stands up from his seat and places his hat on the table.
"well.... hopefully..." he murmurs as he stands beside the table, facing you. he slowly reaches into his pocket and takes out a little velvet box. your eyes widen as he gets on one knee and opens the box, looking up at you.
"our engagement?" he bites the inside of his lip, smiling at you. the whole balcony is silent as everyone watches you and him. your eyes dart around, from his face to the classy ring on display in front of you.
you honestly have no idea what to say. you sit there for a moment before getting out of your chair to kneel down with him. you bring both your hands up to cradle his face and lightly caress his cheek with your thumb. you nod your head, and the whole balcony erupts into quiet applause.
you pull him towards you and kiss him, long and hard. you can still taste the wine even on his lips, plain as day. you pull back only to drop your hands to his shoulders and embrace him. you hold him. he's not shaking anymore. in this moment, he's content.
"is that a yes?" he whispers, still cocky as ever.
you let him slip the ring onto your finger and sigh, gazing at it.
"i suppose it is."
god i want chuya to be my fiancé.
fiancé chuya headcanons anyone? (-_-)ゞ
masterlist
requests are open!
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Thinking about the way Ace smiles after Nancy says "I'm not happy without you in [my life]."
[gif by @nancy-drew]
Like--we don't see Ace smile a ton. Not never, but it's rarer, especially lately, so it feels significant.
Perhaps Ace's most pervasive issue is his inadequacy complex. He always thinks he's not good enough, that he has to prove himself to be worthy of his friends, of love. He is Acts of Service personified. He needs to be needed.
With that said, he's almost always known he can be someone Nancy needs. It's their earliest dynamic. She needed someone to talk to about tanking her grades and missing out on college. She needed someone to block the road to the morgue. To hack stuff. To call and cause a distraction at the flower shop. And so on and so on.
When they're "broken up" post cursebreaking attempt, he is still obviously and demonstrably someone she needs--hence Ace's bitter "see you next time you need something" after the teeth shenanigans.
Because while he will still help her--he will always help her, even pre-swap when she's surprised he shows up but he did because she needed help--what Ace actually needs is to be wanted. To be loved.
Cut to this beautiful conversation. Ace says he's a better person with Nancy is in his life. And that's true, and a wonderful sentiment. It's true in reverse as well, and it would have been amazing even to hear Nancy say "ditto."
But that's not what she tells him. She tells him he makes her happy. Not that he's useful. Not that his skills help her. Not that he adds an objective value through his efforts that makes her life function more effectively.
He makes her happy. Just him. Just who he is. And not just that, but she's actively unhappy without him.
He makes her happy, and that's why she loves him. And that's exactly what Ace needs to hear, needs to know. And so he gets that smile.
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Business Proposal || knj (sneak peak)
pairing: namjoon x f!reader || ex friends to lovers!au friends to lovers!au
Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fwb!au, non idol!au, unrequited love
Warnings: slow burn, angst, namjoon is pretty much not the nicest dude lol (will add more as it progresses), kinda sugar daddy au but not really. It will make sense I promise.
w.c: 799
Synopsis: Namjoon is living on borrowed time, and it’s time to cash in. His father is months from taking his last breathe and his life long dream is to watch his oldest son say “I do.”
Release date: TBD
a/n: I’ve had this idea for a while, but I wasn’t sure if anyone would be interested in it so I decided to upload a little part to see if it sparks some interest. Let me know if you are interested in reading more. Thank you and Enjoy!
It was a stupid pact.
One that was created on a whim after five cups of coffee and two broken hearts.
“If we aren’t married in ten years time, let’s just marry each other.” You suggested; like it was the greatest idea ever. Your hands were shaking from all the caffeine you had consumed and your eyes were red rimmed and wide from all the crying you had done. It matched his own as well.
The problem was that he agreed, assuming that by the time he was thirty he’d be settled down with a beautiful partner, a dog or a cat and his first child on its way.
Except it hadn’t played out that way and the two of you had lost touch years ago because of a stupid fight that shouldn’t have escalated the way it did in the first place. All because you had confessed your feelings to him, and he didn’t feel the same. He thought your sudden outburst was uncalled for.
So what if he didn’t feel the same way? He was there for you, more than the people you went to high school with. He tutored you in biology and college algebra. While you edited his philosophy papers in exchange for a nice cup of coffee and dinner every Friday night.
But it was his lack of emotion that made you burst. And he couldn’t understand why you had accused him of leading you on for years. He always thought of you as a little sister being the same age as his step brother–Jungkook. Yet, you had read all the signs wrong and he couldn’t seem to understand that. From your point of view he had led you on. Made you catch feelings while playing into them every chance he got. He confided in you, the way lovers did. Never physically but always emotionally. Yet, after the argument and the many tears that you had shed, it was like you fell off the Earth’s surface.
Occasionally he would hear about you through Jungkook whenever the two of them went home to visit their parents on the weekend or during the holidays. And sometimes Taehyung and Jimin posted pictures of the three of you together. Pictures he knew were taken by Jungkook. But you were still the same. Plain and pretty enough to be considered passable but nothing special. Nothing that would make him feel attracted to you. But other than those few instances he didn’t really care enough to ask about you either. The less he knew the better. Sure, you were once his best friend. A person he trusted a lot, but that all flew out the window when you walked out of his life.
It’s funny because now he needs you. His parents are breathing down his neck, begging for him to settle down. And if he doesn’t bring someone home for the holidays. Then he’s fucked. His father is on his last lifeline. His lifelong dream is to have his first and biological son live a fulfilling life with someone by his side, seems less like a possibility as the days go by.
Namjoon is living on borrowed time and if he doesn’t at least show signs of settling down any time soon. He can kiss the large inheritance and his job at the private university his father has shares in–goodbye.
Which is why he’s here in Taehyung’s living room, staring at you from across the room as you laugh at something Jungkook has said. For a split second he wonders what could have you on the brink of rolling on the floor laughing. But he doesn’t care enough. You're his last resort and he needs a way to get you alone in order to bring up the deal the two of you made.
Afterall he’s turning thirty-two and you’re in your late twenties. It's absolutely the perfect time to cash in.
The only problem is that ever since he walked through the door of Taehyung’s apartment you’ve been avoiding him at all costs. Never straying away from the familiar air of your childhood friends Jimin and Taehyung. And when they’re not around Jungkook takes their place.
But Namjoon is desperate. And sometimes disparity makes you do things you least expect. Like considering you to be a placeholder until he finds the right one. Like planning to offer you a big sum of money to just come and act like the perfect little wife to be. And as an added bonus a guaranteed job at the university of your dreams.
One that will help you pay out the loan you took to attend the said university. It’s a win-win situation.
No matter what, by the end of the night you will be his. At least just to pretend.
#btshoneyhive#btsdreamcourt#kdiarynet#bts imagines#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts angst#bts smut#bts fluff#bts namjoon#kim namjoon#namjoon imagines#namjoon fanfiction#namjoon smut#namjoon angst#namjoon fluff#namjoon x reader#bts x reader#rm fanfic#rm smut#rm x reader#rm fluff#rm angst
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AMA: My Experience as an Experienced “Shifter” and Where I am Today with it
So, I don’t ever talk about sifting anymore really, even to the friends I made through the sifting community, but I’ve weirdly been seeing a lot of sifting posts on my main and thought that it couldn’t be a coincidence- especially since I hadn’t been looking for the content. Tumblr is very specific about their algorithm I’ve found. That was weeks ago though, but for the first time today, I actually thought about shifting.
For a bit of context- I used to be a very popular shifttoker on TikTok years ago. Obviously im not anymore. I did it for about a year- met some great people, and some others not so much. It was exciting while it lasted, but i moved on after i started to notice all the drama, and genuinely got so annoyed so i left. Before shiftok, I was already very spiritual and using my time to consistently look into techniques especially regarding meditation, lucid dreaming, and astral projection. I never did figure out astral projection, but became what you could call a “master” of lucid dreaming. I was doing it every night, several times a night without waking up or causing problems! Then deeper into my research i found out about shifting.
It was much like lucid dreaming, or at least it followed my theories about dreams- that when we dream, we’re technically in another “state of existence” much like astral projection, where our consciousness is leaving the body. I couldn’t find much info on it honestly, and what info i did find either led back to TikTok, or to ancient spiritualities and religions, and I genuinely couldn’t decipher half the stuff i was reading from them. My mistake, was i went to TikTok instead of trying to understand anything else. TikTok, I genuinely believe, has done irreversible damage to what actual shifting is, and if you were anywhere near shiftok in 2019-2022ish, you know exactly what im talking about.
BUT that’s not what this post is about, I wanted to talk more about my experiences (just wanted to add my history :))
My first shift was actually not too long after i found out what shifting was, I can’t entirely recall the method i used- no its not one of the fancyshmancy ones we see all over YouTube. It was something more simple, like a genuinely simple meditation, and at this point i had gotten very good at meditating- shutting my mind off and feeling everything but nothing (if that makess sense). It was unlike anything i had experienced, ESPECIALLY lucid dreaming. It was really just a mirror image of this world, with some differences, so nothing crazy. It was after i had found shiftok that i decided to join in as a creator and share my experiences, as I was actively shifting.
This was another mistake, as i found it more difficult to shift after this, but again- this post isn’t about that.
I was actively shifting for about 2-3 years before I eventually stopped. Why did I stop? I started to see really negative results in my real life (cr as some call it). I had some real elaborate realities I would go to, some were planned to the most minuscule detail, others not as much. But i had a blast regardless, and genuinely learned so many new things. I stopped when I started to really look at my life here, which when i was a creator, i always would tell my followers to ground yourself here, to never look past what’s happening here. It’s easy to get lost in your many lives, but it’s not worth losing this one. I really should’ve followed my own advice though. In my life here, I was still in college, had just broken up with my boyfriend of a year, had some shit friends, and a job at a library (which was honestly the only good thing). My life was boring, and I was living out what i wanted, through shifting. Which isn’t entirely a bad thing, just not the best thing.
Once shiftok when to shit and i had left, I had kind of “healed” myself in a way and created a new relationship with shifting, i was shifting regularly again. It was also at this point that I started to come up with more theories about shifting other then the whole, “we’re tuning in to another consciousness”. I’m by all means not saying that isn’t what it is, but we don’t know for sure if it is, so i was just having fun, as a regular shifter and lucid dreamer, trying to figure out other explanations.
I havn’t shfited in god knows how long. I haven’t meditated either. And I sure as hell haven’t lucid dreamed. It sucks to kind of lose something that was such a huge part of your life, but for reasons that has made my life better. I now have a partner of 2 years, im back in school for my masters, and im generally happy with my life :). The first time i have thought about shifting, was this morning when i woke up. Something happened earlier this week that has caused me great stress (family related) and one of my thoughts were “man shifting somewhere else would be lovely” just this idea of not having to deal with anything really. This thought process isn’t healthy, and by no means should you shift to escape anything. If you choose to do this (let’s face it, lots of us have or will), just understand the consequences.
If anyone would like to hear any shifting stories, methods, or theories or just any questions, please ask! I may not shift anymore but i love talking about it :)
Thank you for reading :)
#shift#shifting#reality shifting#desired reality#desired self#current reality#alternate universe#alternate reality#shifting community#shifting blog#shifting motivation#shifting consciousness#shifting methods#shifting diary#shiftinconsciousness#shifttok#shifters#ask me anything#ask me stuff#ask me questions#auggietalks
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Dude thank you so much for all the work you do compiling broken/updated mods and cc. And I'm sorry people can't just read the first page of the sims forum thread! Drives me bonkers, so I can't imagine how you feel
Thank you!
I'll be honest here: Simmers choosing to add mods to their game (and that includes CC, which are mods too) but not learning how to properly install and update them or how to use them across game updates, not reading instructions from creators, not taking them out when reporting problems on support forums or to Maxis but saying they did, and not reading available info before asking for support are a HUGE reason modders leave modding (or just stop publishing their mods and keep them only for their own use) and a HUGE reason support volunteers stop volunteering.
So I'm going to bounce off your kind post with some advice for other people.
If You Want to Use Gameplay Mods and Custom Content...
Learn how to use your Mods folder.
Learn how to set your folder up with subfolders so that you can find the files you need to delete when you add new ones. Learn what has to go no more than one folder down so the game actually sees it. Something every college instructor quickly learns is that younger people have often never needed to learn about computer file structure before. Well, you have to.
Read creators' instructions.
Creators' instruction will tell you crucial things like what a mod actually will and will NOT do, packs are needed for their mod, how your files need to be arranged in your Mods folder, what other creators' mods you need to run theirs, which files to install only one of, etc. Far too many people show up asking for help and the problem is they didn't read the instructions. Instructions are not optional.
Have a plan for something else to do after game updates.
Sometimes your gameplay mods and custom content WILL BREAK because the part of the game they "talk" to changed. Have a "vanilla" save or a different game entirely to play while you wait. Develop a second hobby. Clean your kitchen. Call your mom. If you choose to use gameplay mods and CC, you are choosing that you will need to stop using them occasionally, one way or another.
Read AHQ support instructions and follow them.
Reporting a game error at Maxis's AHQ? Read about testing for the error without your Mods folder, and supply all the requested info.
Read mod support instructions and follow them.
Asking for help with mods/CC from Deaderpool or Sims After Dark or a creator? When you join, read the rules you agree to; they aren't there for fun. If you choose to use mods with unethical or illegal content, expect that you will NOT get support. Answer questions honestly. Upload the files requested, not just pictures of them. Be kind to creators and volunteers: there are very good reasons they're asking you what they are, and if they give up creating/volunteering, you're going to be on your own.
Read broken/updated mod support instructions and follow them.
@scarlets-realm and I have very different structures and therefore different rules, but neither of us is going to stay willing to maintain our lists if we keep having to deal with Simmers who don't follow our rules, which we have set up, for one, to prevent false reports, which benefit nobody. I started my list because I was looking for info for myself and thought I might as well share it in a centralized way. If it becomes increasingly annoying, I'm happy to let Simmers go back to Hard Mode.
Don't ask "WHEN".
You are not a preschooler anymore, and when you were and were asking "Are we there yet?," you were making it harder for your mom or dad to drive the car. Creators are not working on your schedule; you aren't their managers. Leave them alone so they can actually get to the destination.
Don't ask "What broke".
The answer is already available to you. READ AND FOLLOW my Forums list (don't just pop in with a question). Please note that the Forums themselves have rules, and those MUST be followed there. READ AND SEARCH Scarlet's list. If you choose to use mods from creators who use a pirated/cracked game or packs, who paywall any of their creations permanently or longer than Maxis permits for their type of content, or who copy code without permission from other creators, you're going to be relying on the creators for support. Neither of us will support unethical creators by helping you use their stuff.
Get your news about what's broken and what isn't from the established lists, support servers, and the creators.
A lot of Sims influencers on YouTube and Twitch use mods, but that doesn't mean they're a reliable source of info, unfortunately. Some are using outdated or broken mods and don't realize it. Some have been known to say that a mod is "broken" when what's broken is a game mechanic or when they think a mod is supposed to be doing something it's not.
You have a choice:
You don't HAVE to use gameplay mods or custom content. Many players don't, including all console players. If you CHOOSE to use them, learn how to do so the right way, and be a supportive part of the community so that you can keep using them.
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step #1: move in with your ex's best friend
summary: having just broken up with your ex, you're left with little options. you turn towards a mutual childhood friend who is reluctant to receive you for a myriad of reasons. the top one is surely how he looks at you (austin butler x afab!reader)
reflection: i posted this on my other account before, but seeing as that is now gone, i am starting to look at my works and which will be suitable to reupload. this piece is still up on archive so i want to make it even more convenient and post it here. please enjoy and feedback is always encouraged and appreciated.
warnings: cheerleader!reader, college au, drinking, alcohol, cynical!austin, somewhat bitter!austin, objectification, slight obsession, oral, degradation, filmed, dirty talk, dom!austin, naive!reader, childhood friends, friends to lovers, friends with benefits, cursing, pet names, austin's pov, reader's ex is an ass (please let me know if there are other warnings i need to add)
word count: 15,081
( this work has been cross posted on ao3 )
Austin isn’t exactly sure what comes over him seeing one of his best friends in the world consistently flirt with other girls with you, his friend’s girlfriend, sitting at home waiting. He’s loyal to perhaps a fault; he’s grown up with these people, their parents acting as parents even to him, so it’s the least he can do. To think the thoughts he thinks about you, to sit in a bar where he spots the same magazine you were reading this morning, to catch the dull lighting shining in his oblivious friends’ faces as he commits silent betrayal—guilt lingers alongside the condensation seeping off his cold beer’s glass. It’s a combination of his hand’s sweat and the sweet alcohol allowing him to try and forget.
He shouldn’t even be feeling these things. Not just because of the principle of the fact, but because you’re also all kinds of wrong for him. You’re combative, a bit materialistic, and bratty because your father’s got an edge in the political regime that’s spoiled you rotten.
But goddamn it... he wishes he didn’t think of the berry gloss that stains his friend’s lips every time he steals a kiss away from you. Austin is tired of being envious of someone he’s supposed to be there for, of gloss smearing his mouth in his guileful dreams.
He drinks to try and muddle the angelic tone of your features sitting on the permanent photograph his mind lingers to against his best wishes. You’re there no matter how hard he tries to dispose of you with his liquor and it doesn’t help that his friend is chatting up a storm nearby about how good he is in the sack, the subtext lost on him in definition as he gets bolder and bolder by the passing seconds. It’s to the point where Austin can no longer stand to hear about it, shifting up to his long legs and dropping cash onto the counter. Typically, Fabian doesn’t notice Austin deserting him with the two women hanging off of his arms. Austin walks until he reaches the designated driver appointed for the night, Wesley glancing up from his beer and from his girlfriend Veronica he seemed to be in a deep conversation with.
“You mind driving me home or are you as busy as Fabian is over there?” Austin doesn’t bother to hide the bitterness latching onto his vocal chords. If anything, it appears as if he’s jealous of the attention Fabian is getting over him and definitely not the intimate secret of how he has you at the forefront of his mind. Wesley can’t see through flesh and skull, not that anyone can, so Austin’s in the clear to think about you in any which way that he pleases without stepping on anyone’s toes or crossing any boundaries.
“Yeah, man, I got you. You don’t mind me dropping off Veronica first, do you?” Wesley steps from the stool, his jacket coming off his lap to then wrap around Veronica before Austin could even answer his displeasure. His tolerance for his friends and their romances while being the fifth wheel could only prevail for a certain amount of time. Under the influence, he’s not completely stone faced, rolling his eyes at the “sweet” gesture. Veronica sticks her tongue out.
“Don’t have much of a choice, do I?”
“Oh, not a chance.”
Somehow, Austin survived two duets and several solos among Wesley and Veronica in the duration of the car ride from the bar to Veronica’s house. He clenched his fists in his jacket’s pockets watching the two of them give each other a liplock as if they would never see one another again, prolonging the time before he could get out of the car to transfer himself in the passenger seat that Veronica left behind. This is the reason he usually went to places in his own beat-up car, but he also wanted to drink without putting a limitation on himself. The day wound up being shitty from start to finish, something he could have predicted if it weren’t for a gnawing need to numb his brain from thinking so much.
His factory job is in the midst of laying people off and labor never guarantees your spot, his cynicism with his boss as of late causing him to believe that he would have to embark on the job hunting fiasco soon enough. Hanging out with friends used to alleviate these kinds of stresses, but now he can’t see them doing anything other than aggravating with the state his head’s in.
He enters his small apartment after climbing several flights of stairs. The exercise gives him the sense of a pre-hangover so he lifts a hand up to grasp at the ache and switch the light on. He blinks through the new balance, the sound of sniffling quietly filling his ears in his efforts to adjust to the state of the climate around him. When his eyes come through, he sees your recognizable frame sitting on his couch, a pink pillow with your name on it in contrasting crimson thread adorning the front of it. It sits between your arms held tightly against your chest, your chin at the top of it with dead streaks of tear tracks rounding the apples of your cheeks down to your plump, pouting lips.
“What the hell are you doing here?” He grumbles, marching on over as steadily as a tipsy person could possibly manage. He didn’t expect to see you there, especially not since you didn’t live there and he owned this place on his own. The overwhelming images of you throughout the night seemingly intensify in your presence. He’s better off ignoring your existence than it is to risk implicating himself.
“Fabian, he… he…” You hiccup your words. It’s obvious you were crying in here before Austin arrived, but you continued where you left off and he visibly sees the fresh tears forming above your lower eyelids. Who knows how long you’ve been in here on your lonesome. “He cheated on me. After I confronted him, he kicked me out and I… I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
Austin scoffs at this, a lack of remorse stemming from his alcohol stunt and from his need to look as if he couldn’t care less about the situation. Despite growing up together alongside him, Fabian, and Wesley, you two never explored a decent realm of friendship. You came from different worlds entirely, your dad being rich and his dad being nowhere to be found. It’s a miracle private school didn’t separate your two lives any further, but you attended public school and began your on and off again relationship with Fabian. Apparently, it’s off again. It would explain Fabian’s unabashed behavior earlier. He was technically a free man and Austin’s jealousy streak suddenly seemed foolish. “Last I checked, you had a bigger house than any of us combined.”
“I can’t go back there. My dad thinks I pledged to a sorority and I lied to him so I could stay with Fabian. Besides, it’s too far from campus and you’re not.” You’re quite the sight rising up onto your knees, your hips suspended in the air just the right amount to see the chosen pair of oh-so-short sleep shorts riding above your thighs. He’s quick to flicker his gaze down and then back up to the lost expression on your face. He’s positive he wasn’t your first choice in this decision given the severe lack of history between the two of you and those shorts of yours are reminding him of the loyalty he ought to be committed to for his dear friend.
“You can’t just stay with me. This isn’t a hotel for you to come and go as you please. I have had one hell of a day and I shouldn’t be arguing with someone about whether or not they can stay in the place that is supposed to be mine alone.”
Austin throws his hands in the air to get his point across, anything for you to take it into your head and accept the circumstances as they were. If you weren’t so heartbroken, he would’ve daringly added salt to the wound by commenting on how things weren’t going to go your way like you were used to. He told himself he refrained because you’ve undergone a lot in the last twelve hours and not because of a deep rooted feeling tearing away at him within. He never has done well with crying in general, never the one to comfort, and never the one to be comforted. He’s not sure how to handle you in this state.
He turns his back to you to rummage through the ashtray he utilizes in a duality as a key tray. It’s a bad idea to leave at this hour, and given how much he’s drunk, he shouldn’t even be operating a vehicle. Soon, the ring belonging to his keys slips onto his index finger when he hears your voice in a whisper.
“... Did you know?”
Silence. It’s pure silence as he slightly tilts his head to the ceiling and guilt sobers him to see through the thick cloud of irrationality attempting to send you away in this vulnerable position. The truth is that he’s considered plenty of times where he could have put an end to all of this by ratting his friend out, but he never followed through on such plans. It’s Fabian’s parents who guided him away from the same path his father was once on, and so Fabian’s actions may have been shitty, but that didn’t grant Austin the right to be a shitty friend in return.
But as Austin slowly turns and drops his keys back into the tray, he focuses on the aftermath of his indecision and the hurtful consequences of his silence matching Wesley and Veronica’s. It’s written in swelling glass in your tear ducts, in the drops sliding over your chin, in the gentle and tragic way your nose quirks to accommodate the light sniffles you could barely breathe from. Austin’s seen you cry plenty of times because you were a sensitive girl, but he knows that this is different than the times before. He can tell by how you bow your head in shame, opaque spots littering your pillow from where you’re soaking it with your pain. He’s not privy to what occurred between you and Fabian this time around, but it’s evident it’s cut you deeper than before.
“Austin… I don’t want to be made a fool of anymore. Please, please do me this favor. I just need somewhere to stay until I figure things out and then I’ll be out of your hair. I promise.”
He wants to protest. He wants to ask why it has to be him (he just knows that the universe has it out for him at this point setting this shitstorm waiting to happen up). It’s just that he’s exhausted, under the influence, and his cold exterior always gives the slightest way for you. He’s got to be as bad as all the other people who enable you in your life, but he continues to blame the lack of energy and his waning patience.
“How did you even get in here?” He asks in lieu of giving you a proper answer, his way of welcoming you to his home without really having to do so. He doesn’t miss the small curve of your lips through your pout as you play with the fringe of your pillow. Austin removes his jacket a sleeve at a time, anything to help how constricted he feels in heat (thanks, whiskey) and from how close you are to him. He can’t remember the last time the two of you were alone together. It’s odd how it’s in this capacity and you’re simultaneously about to spend the night for the very first time. He realizes it’s also been a few weeks since he last had a woman alone in there, a long streak for him compared to average.
You tuck strands of your hair behind your ear, that innocent shrug of your shoulders coming through that tells him your words will be anything but: “I sorta’ told your landlord that I was your girlfriend and I got locked out. He got his keys and let me in.”
Austin bites his tongue so hard that he swears he tastes metal, anything to refrain from talking about how spoiled you are. You currently have a free pass, but it’s not going to run for an unlimited time. He can quip at you in the morning when he’s more coherent and feeling less generous as normal. He hates how much you’re already affecting him. He hopes to everything that you will get this fixed within a day or else there’s his loyalty, bachelorhood, and self-control at stake.
Austin startles awake hearing the sound of pans clattering in the kitchen. He stupidly stumbles out of bed and picks his bat up from the corner of the room before he moves to check where the noise came from. He’s got it resting on his shoulder as if he might just swing wildly as he walks into the area and sees you turning the island into a personal mess. He forgot that you were there, but the conversation you had the previous night comes back to him in images at first and then pieces of audio connect into place. Right, he’s supposed to play host while you figure your shit out.
“Woah there, Babe. Put the bat down, I’m just making breakfast for us.” You scoop the scrambled eggs onto a plate. The smell fills the apartment along with that of smoke that Austin sneers at. He waves his hand to try and whisk it out, the window opened to help with the dilemma. Birds annoyingly chirp and he huffs in retaliation.
“What did you call me?”
“Oh, you know… Babe? Like… like Babe Ruth. He’s the one who played baseball, right? Or did I get that wrong?”
Austin’s expression towards you is serious. He grimaces, but he says nothing in return and sits onto his futon that you’ve transformed from your bed (that you insisted on) back to his couch. A large hand comes down his features, the migraine unrelenting as it digs into his skull. When he’s scrubbing his face with his palms, he brings his hands away to see you there in front of him with a plate and a glass of water. The water comes closer to his features, a gesture for him to take instead of gawking at you and the surprise food.
“It’ll help your hangover.” You smile at him, that damn way of yours too that he has to peel his eyes from or else he’ll resemble a deer in headlights. But even facing away from you, he can see the remnants of your smile in the same fashion of a blob chasing his vision after staring at the sun. He grasps the water and drinks without saying a word, hesitantly delivering the plate to himself to start eating his first home cooked meal in… in probably ever within this apartment. Scanning the kitchen, he spots his counter full of grocery bags. You must’ve gone while he was knocked out cold.
“How’d you know I was hungover?” Austin questions it through a mouthful, noticing that his television was playing what appeared to be a cheer competition. He’s well aware of your college cheering, but he didn’t think it extended to where you would watch it for fun or for studying or maybe even both. It’s at least something to distract him, his eyes narrowing in on a skirt, unable to help himself.
“Uh… Fabian posted on his IG story from the bar last night. I saw your jacket in the corner of the picture and knew I’d have to wait longer for you to get here.”
He can hear the subliminal Thanks for the invite in your tone and he sighs. The division in the friend group is clearly evident, however this may be the realization for you that it definitely leans one side more than it does the other. He reminds himself that he isn’t close to you, that this is something out of an alternate reality in the thick of his own compromising reality and he’s not letting his guard down for a second. In actuality, he doesn’t owe you any kind of explanation since he went out and had fun according to his autonomy.
“You didn’t miss much. Wesley and Veronica fell into their own world like they usually do and Fabian…” Despite trying to stay loyal, he stopped himself from stomping on your feelings any further than they have been in the past twenty-four hours. He sees how your face drops at the slip of Fabian’s name in his peripheral as you plop on the seat right next to him. You’re on your phone, your mouth slanting to one side in disappointment.
“I know, I see it right here. He posted some girls he was with last night. Funny how no one would’ve told me about it.”
Your eyes are glued to the phone. Austin watches you click back and forth among the photos and videos making up Fabian’s “wild” night on the IG story. Austin’s not technologically challenged by any means, but he’s not a frequent poster. Therefore, he doesn’t spend a lot of time on social media in general. Witnessing the effects of it in real time messes with his head, that pretty face of yours sullen and defeated in a way that also doesn’t sit right with him. He may not have time for this relationship nonsense, but he can’t turn away from how sorrow is hitting at you hard. He would like to, but his damn conscience won’t let him.
“Stop looking at that,” Austin advises as he takes your phone away. You whine trying to retrieve it back, but he gets up from the couch and sets it on the coffee table. He grabs his glass of water and heads to the fridge for a refill. “If you want to get over him, you can’t be looking at his accounts. You’re just torturing yourself and I can’t stand you crying all over my furniture.”
He sets the water jug back into the fridge before he maneuvers to have his drink at the island. He didn’t expect you to actually get up and follow him. He notices how your phone is still on the coffee table and how you’re nervously tapping your manicured nails on the surface of the counter. Something’s on your mind clearly, an anxiety in your expression that you don’t know how to voice to him. He can’t blame you. After years of knowing one another, conversations such as these evaded you on more than one occasion. It’d be a miracle if the two of you understood how to talk to each other without any kind of misconception sitting between.
“What?” He breaks the ice, eye level with you as he hunches over the counter and awaits an answer.
You inhale a steady breath, but Austin can see you’re close to crying again. “I-I don’t know how to get over him. I feel like we fight so much and I always forgive him and I always turn back and… Austin… Shit.” You didn’t really curse. At least, beyond the occasional use of “damn” and “hell”. This was certainly messing with you. “I don’t want to forgive him this time. I don’t want to turn back. I just want to move on.”
Austin’s warnings didn’t do a damn thing to stop you from openly crying in front of him again. Your pajama sleeve lifts so you can messily wipe your eyes away and he feels discomfort wash over him. He cautiously rounds the island, a hesitant hand moving to gently grasp your shoulder. He’s not completely useless with this kind of thing having seen good examples of guardians being warm and inviting growing up, and if those references failed, there were always the life lessons of the melodramatic television shows and eccentric films at hand. He tries to ask himself what Dan Conner might do in this instance and how Veronica may give you advice.
The overthinking he engages in is soon silenced by how you utilize the advantage of his open arms and scoot yourself into the empty space. He’s not wearing a shirt, but you don’t seem to care as you cry into his chest and leave behind warm tears trailing his pectorals and then his abdomen. Your arms capture him next and Austin is reeling from the amount of touch you’re attacking him with, slight pressure on him that he deems worse than a punch to the gut because at least then he could respond with a cocked back fist and an eager jab. He has no idea how to react to this besides patting your back and then the hair at the top of your head.
“Hey, princess, come on…” This is probably the first time he uses that moniker without a lick of wit and sarcasm dripping from it. Austin used it to tease you, spoiled brat in his vocabulary in your presence at all times. He feels awkward at this moment, to have it sound so affectionate is foreign for him. “Hey, hey, look… I know this fucking sucks, but it’ll get better. You’ll move on, get over him, and graduate. It’s just a matter of time.”
It’s difficult not to stray away from your frame. He knows he’s rigid, but his statuesque form is still not being pushed away by you. Slowly, you lift your head from his chest about the same pace that you reduce your sniffling. A cherry tint coats your cheeks and nose, your lips dry from how you’ve bitten them bloody out of nervous habit. He hates that you’re such a pretty crier, how spellbinding you are despite having puffy eyes and an equally as puffy mouth he wants to swell further by bruising kisses onto it and prying it open with his fingers and then cockhead. To objectify you while you’re struck with such hurt is wrong and he knows it, but he can’t stop the thoughts telling him he should give you something real to cry over, something worth hiccuping sobs and whines over.
“H-how do you know that? What if… what if I never get over him? What if I always feel like this and the only way to stop it is by having him around?” Your distress is beginning to stress Austin out. This topic is about one of his best friends, someone who will come to their senses in a few days if history has served you both well enough in Austin’s memory. Mind you, he never heard this perspective or thought of it before, the reluctance to accept a relationship because of the avoidance of mourning it for too long. Is this why you’ve ran back to Fabian in the past? Because you can’t undergo the shitty and difficult sadness that comes with a breakup? It’s starting to make sense to him that you’re looking for remedies to prevent this from happening before a weaker and more vulnerable version of yourself accepts Fabian’s hand again.
Austin sucks in a breath, his hands coming in front of your face to clasp together. He’s not sure which route to take, a limited array of options. He can advise you to go back to Fabian and clean this mess up before anything else could happen. He could have the place to himself again and things would be normal until the next inevitable separation between the two of you.
Or… or he could do something else that could save him the future headaches and the misery of having to watch you two get so up close and personal. That’s the selfish solution, but a solution nonetheless that might even benefit both you and Fabian in the long run. By how much Fabian strays and how much he winds up putting you down, Austin doesn’t think it to be real treachery. Ruining your relationship together is one thing, but attempting to save future damage is another… right?
“When I was about fourteen, I had my first girlfriend. Remember her?” Austin sees your face dip into confusion, but you nod your head. There’s a point to this, as left field as it may seem. He doesn’t talk about this anymore, hell, he barely talked about it when it happened, but he feels like it’s necessary for this conversation.
“Well, she dumped me to date this other punk named Ben. I was fucking pissed so I drank a lot, distanced myself, listened to angry music, all of that. And eventually, one day, I saw them together at the central mall and I didn’t feel a thing. No anger, no love, no nothing. It took time, but it worked. It felt endless when it was happening, but an end did come around. I’m telling you that you just have to wait it out and soon enough, those shit feelings will quit fucking with your head.” For good measure, Austin’s knuckles form a fist and tap the crown of your cranium with a shockingly contrasting pressure, soft to go with the overwhelming weight of his honest words. There’s not a lot of things that he expects to happen by doing any of this, but the very least of those actions had been the one you embarked on and that was the sheepish smile you let break way despite the veil of tears still slipping on down and down.
“T-Thank you, Austin.” Your voice is feeble, and the weeping is reducing ever so slowly. He counts it as a victory, his reassurance. But solely a small one since realistically, he doesn’t know if you’ll listen, if everything he just said will go in through one ear and out the other. He just tells himself things will be okay as he anxiously runs a large hand down your back, your frame fitting back into his still-hesitant arms.
“She had ugly shoes.”
“What?” He glances at you and shifts you to where he can get a better look at your face. You stare up at him with amusement spreading from the crinkles around your eyes and the curve of your mouth broadening.
“Nancy,” you begin with his ex’s name, the very one he just spoke about, “She had ugly shoes. I was glad she was gone so I didn’t have to look at them anymore.”
Austin rolls his eyes and hides his laugh because of course you would remember such a trivial thing, anything that has to do with fashion and not at all how Nancy contributed to Austin’s corroded trust issues.
“Are you sure that you don’t want to come with me? I promise it’s a lot more fun than wasting a Sunday night drinking a beer.” Your tone echoes from Austin’s bathroom, the slightest creak in the door since you insist on speaking with him through it as you do your makeup. After your conversation yesterday, Austin found it easier to talk with you. That’s scratching the argument the two of you fell into over switching the television to an action movie he wanted to catch instead of the modeling videos you spammed on YouTube, but otherwise, you two got along better.
You made dinner, unsurprisingly since you got up to make breakfast so early. He thought it was a means to repay him, to show some kind of appreciation for allowing you to stick around, but then you were bouncing about his kitchen the next morning at the same hour with the same cheer competition footage playing. He realized it was a routine you fell into out of habit, another reason to curse his friend in the confines of his mind because who the hell would turn so easily from housewife material. The kind of housewife material who could bake a pie, who doted on their beloved husband, who wore those fitted aprons scattered with red and pink hearts to stand out against the quilted white background. The very one in your possession that shot the bullet igniting the race of his rapid imagination running wild. It’s just the right size to hide your skimpy pajamas, for a fantasy to plaster itself into his cognitive files (joining the rest) involving nothing underneath the apron that has the potential of catching his release.
“I’ve had my fair share of socializing Friday night,” he grumbles back, “I don’t want to be around any crowds. Especially not with a bunch of college kids.” That would mostly be around his age since you were only a year younger, but he can pretend he’s more mature because the hard labor he indulges in leaves dirt under his nails and soreness in his back muscles. Bitterness is rightful here, the path his friends took being in books while he decided to go a different route. He’s still thinking of what he should do, but surviving is always number one. Figuring how to stay afloat is a priority.
“There might be cute college girls!” You try, but that’s not something he needs either. Austin’s never been one for the dating scene. If he needs to hook up with someone, he’ll go to a bar or a club. A college football game didn’t sound very entertaining for him. The entire premise of attending anything with you still sat sour in his mouth, anyway. Soon, you’d be moving out and then you two could go back to barely talking to each other sans for when you’re together with Wesley, Veronica, and eventually Fabian. He doesn’t think you’ll back out of the group due to this recent betrayal, but there’s bound to be impending awkwardness coming as a result.
Sitting at his couch, he lifts his bottle opener to work open the cap of his beer. The satisfying thsk resounds, the cold smoke beckoning him in that he quickly attaches his lips to. He dips his head backwards to get his first swig, making it a proper one at that to fill his cheeks with and coat his tongue over. It’s then that he hears the bathroom door come open from behind him and he turns in that direction from the simplest reaction of sound detection.
“How do I look? Be honest.”
Austin swallows the drink in his mouth with a difficult gulp, one he feels expand as it travels down his throat. It takes effort not to cough, but he wills himself to sit still as he takes in your appearance, that small cheer outfit of yours not helping the thoughts he’s carried for a long while. It hugs your chest, your hips, your thighs, and it’s not fair. It’s really not fucking fair looking the way you do, batting your long lashes at him, awaiting an answer from him like you don’t know how much he wants to cross the room and test the access capabilities of that skirt slimming not even past the invisible equator of flesh dividing the portion to your mid thigh. From how form fitting it is, he wouldn’t have any choice but to bunch it upwards in his curling fingers, offering himself leverage in the process of pushing into you from behind.
Austin swears in his head and he commands himself to look away from the little number to give his opinion on your face, the makeup you’re actually asking about. He gets a final glance of the golden Cal bright and bold against navy blue across your chest before his eyes land upon your facial structure. There’s the slightest wisps of blue glitter over your lids, a sheen on your nose and cheeks cool toned and shimmery that he knows will glow luminescent under the football field’s beaming lights overhead. Curiously, a black, tiny heart rests beneath your left eye, something you most likely drew on to complete your look. He can’t ignore any of it, not how complementary it’s come together for your features, not how glossy your lips appear, and definitely not how you tuck your bottom lip between your teeth with his obvious gaze attached to every detail.
“Is the heart too much? I thought since my hair was in a ponytail that I could pull it off, but I can just take it off if—”
“Don’t, it’s… different. You don’t look bad.” You don’t look bad? Seriously? Austin thinks to himself, that piss poor excuse of complimenting you without being too forward sounding jumbled and meaningless because of a few seconds of overthought filling his brain to the brim. He could’ve just given a simple nod of his head to show his approval, but of course his big mouth had to relay the warped images in his mind through his ditching effort to show care and no care at the same exact time.
But miraculously, your lips spread into a wide smile, your white tennis shoes squeaking over the floor as you bounce a path to Austin and wrap your arms around his neck. His beer rises towards the ceiling to protect it from spilling to the floor, jasmine and orange blossom invading his nose due to your perfume wafting from your neck to it in a direct attack. Against his better judgment and before he realizes what he’s doing, he inhales deeply and suddenly you’re just about in every one of his senses. All he’s missing is… oh God, he’s just missing taste and he can’t believe that his mind would roam there to remind him of it. What flavor is that lip gloss that you’re so obsessed with swiping over your lips to resemble a cushioned aphrodisiac? What mix of lotion and perfume and you would coat his tongue if he traced it right along your neck to locate your pulse point so he can feel it quicken in real time? What sweetness will drip into his open mouth if he sits you atop of his face and smacks the supple flesh of your ass to begin riding at his command?
Your embrace becomes loose as you stand back from him on the couch, “Thank you, Austin,” short and soft on your tone. You step away and grab your purse and gym bag in the process of heading to the front door, Austin sitting in confusion of how you got so close to him in proximity so easily and why you accepted his barely-there validation.
He tries to bring himself back from the place you led him to, your face and body being the real culprits here in all their temptations corralling him in. Saliva returns to moisten his dry mouth as you’re putting your coat over your shoulders.
“No one will even be able to tell that you’ve been crying,” he retorts against his own sentiment, anything to make it seem as if he just complimented you to throw you off and not see a planned insult fitted within. It’s discomforting to get too along with you, to alert you of how he sees attraction in any kind of regard.
“God, I hope not. Fingers crossed!” You say with a roll of your eyes, relief un-strangling the firm grip on his throat and he finally exhales the scent of you away from him and out of his nostrils. But the relief doesn’t last long because as you open the door and step one foot out of his apartment, your head peeks back to him with that same smile on your face resting there. “I’ll try to bring you back a hot dog or something.”
He gruffs out a noise in the form of a reply and firmly stills his attention on the television ahead of him playing a movie he all but forgot about. He doesn’t look at the front door until he hears it close, your footsteps marching away, and the distant sound of fading walking beneath descending the stairs.
Austin rubs the sleep out of his eyes hearing the knocks at the door. The television’s glow is shining right into his pupils and he has trouble acclimating to the atmosphere despite the rest of the apartment being dark. He must’ve fallen asleep before he could go and get ready for bed for the night. He had an early morning shift, another reason why he didn’t wish to spend his Sunday night with you at a football game with his social battery already so low and slowly recharging. He supposes it’s semi-a-good-thing since he would’ve been groggier waking up from his bed and even more annoyed with you than he currently is, trudging on to the door to unlock it for you and let you in.
“You’re so fucking loud,” he grumbles down at you half-lidded, probably half-asleep as well as he turns from you and walks to the couch in the similar fashion as a zombie. Two large hands come up to scrub down the length of his face, the technique of rubbing his eyes conducted to push the sleep away without the hurtful ray controlled by his living room’s light switch.
“You could’ve given me your keys, but nooo, ‘This is a temporary stay, brat’.” Your voice drops an octave as you mock Austin’s voice, the jacket over your shoulders being slipped off. The material falls over the armrest opposite of Austin’s frame and then you plummet yourself to sit next to him, one arm and thigh curving on the couch to face him properly. His head slips backwards, his eyes shutting in what you think is the first of his actions to fall back to sleep.
“It is a temporary stay, brat. If I give you keys, how the hell am I supposed to lock you out?” crushes that doubt, the conversation carried in the usual quipping. Austin only slightly flinches after your hand lightly smacks at his shoulder. It’s with no pressure so he quickly lets both of his hands come up to cradle his head. Letting it remain limp on the cushion would cause a strain in it, but he also wanted to continue laying without any effort applied.
“So, I, uh… this guy asked me out tonight after the game…”
That captures Austin’s attention. Annoyance bubbles up in his chest for several reasons, some he won’t bother to confront since he would much rather deny them, others he isn’t aware is his brain trying to form to correlate further with that denial. For example, the idea of you moving on so soon from one of his best friends is going to be like a stab to the chest. The prospect of having to tell Fabian emerges, but then Austin would have to explain why the hell you were sleeping there with him in his apartment. While he only plans for it to be short term, Austin could not beat the allegation of having you so close to him in any capacity. You’ve stayed with him for a total of two nights and nothing could be said or done to take anything away from that cold, hard fact. Then, would it look like he was picking sides when he was trying to do the opposite? Staying out of it entirely was the best option and yet, he’s already offered you shelter, company, banter, and worst of all, advice on how to rid of your feelings for Fabian.
He peeks at you through one eye, the image of your bottom lip tucked between your teeth coming into view as he stares at you with a nervous anticipation of where this is going. By your silence, he could tell you searched for some kind of reply.
He bites the bait and asks, “And what did you say?”
Your lashes flit downwards and follow your gaze at the slightly empty space sitting between you and Austin. That alone conveys to him of your answer and so he closes his eye back up and reinforces his position on the cushions, his shoulders and neck adjusting into it to seem relaxed instead of agitated by this news.
“I said I would think about it,” surprises Austin, the only indication he gives that it does being how his eyebrows arch upwards and then immediately come down. Luckily for him, you didn’t catch it in your casual and anxious summary of the hours before your return to his home, “I mean, he was a stranger I just met, but I also didn’t want to turn the opportunity down. I saved his number on my phone.”
It’s not totally what he initially thought, inwardly scolding himself for jumping to conclusions. However, it barely changes the weight of responsibility on him from his spiraling contemplation before. The regret of allowing you to stay has surfaced due to conflict overtaking his head, the mix of emotions attempting to be repressed to the point of where the worst possible case scenario pops into his doubts. You could say no to this mystery guy and yet here you are maintaining a residence with him, temporary or not. How could he explain this to Wesley or Fabian if either of them walked through his door? He’s positive they would think something happened between the two of you no matter what he could possibly say to salvage the pretend and yet very real event.
Despite all of that, there’s still a chance that you would agree to the rendezvous. At least in that route he could get rid of you sooner. Your… new boyfriend could hold the mantle of giving you somewhere to stay and then Austin wouldn’t have to deal with the problems of his friends finding out about his loyalties lying elsewhere. It’s complicated. He knows it. He also knows that it would be a lot less complex if he didn’t harbor any affinities for you. He fears being caught because maybe the accusations that would come with it would just unveil truths to everyone. Austin could argue with Fabian and Wesley that the two of you did nothing, but there was no guarantee that Austin could hide how he wanted something to happen, how he wished for the imagined things they pointed their fingers at him with. He didn’t trust his facial expressions for that task, much less whatever oral speeches he could muster.
After his delusions stew for a moment, arguments playing and then replaying on the projector screen of his eyelids, he realizes you’ve been quiet this entire time, for as long as his thoughts ran rampant with pessimistic plots nagging at him. His eyes squint to look your way, expectancy in your features that he doesn’t understand. You drive logic from his head and in its wake, you replace it with curiosity. He wonders why you’re looking at him like that and why he didn’t have the ability to read minds so he wouldn’t have to communicate beyond his emotional intelligence level.
“And…?” He questions and expects you to carry on with your story. You nudge his arm, a bright laugh coming off your lips. Austin thinks it might be the most genuine laugh you’ve had this weekend with him. He actually can’t remember the last time he’s heard it, but he remembers the first time vividly. Before puberty hit any of you, when he hung out in Wesley’s garage fucking around with his friend’s father’s guitar talking about starting a band despite there being nothing but makeshift drums made out of trash cans and Fabian being unable to hold a note, you giggled from the other side of the fence and revealed you’d been watching their ‘band practice’ the entire time. You and your sly grin that you turned into a sneer when Fabian flexed his arms to show off for the female attention. Wesley called you the annoying little girl next door and Austin scrambled for reasons to hold the same sentiment while Fabian completely ignored it and flirted with you anyway. It was simpler when he didn’t have to worry about the ongoing situation and only had to worry about why he enjoyed your laugh as much as he did, finding it anything but annoying in actuality.
“And? And what do you think? Do you think I should go for it?” You continue to surprise Austin. In how much he drowns himself in a silent accountability, you’re reminding him of where he currently sits, where you currently sit next to him, where your knee brushes against his as you await his answer in earnest and not sarcastically.
“Why do you care what I think?” He sits up straighter, his head shifting up from where he previously laid it back on the couch. He finally looks at you, albeit through groggy eyes, but he looks at you nonetheless. That same excitement and intrigue is still there. You’re sure of yourself in this decision.
“Because since I blocked Fabian, I haven’t looked at any of his recent posts. I caught myself navigating there three times today and it’s like it’s a reminder. I don’t feel any better than yesterday, but I had fun at the game and forgot about him for a little bit. I don’t think I would’ve been able to without what you said… so, thank you.” This gratitude is genuine. He almost wants your nose to scrunch and you to burst into laughter so it could just be some kind of weird joke, but none of that ever happens. You withhold your ground, not breaking the eye contact that isn’t in full effect due to the television being all the illumination the room offers. It’s a good thing, too. If the light was on or if it spilled naturally from his windows, he would have to face the depth of your eyes and each fan of your lashes.
“I never told you to block him,” he tries to deflect, but you scoot closer and it shuts him up from further dismissing your acknowledgment and appreciation.
“You didn’t have to. I’m creating that distance you talked about. You were right. Looking at his stuff is just torturing myself and I just want to get this hurting period over with. So, please be honest with me: should I wait or take the plunge? Is a rebound what I need?”
A rebound. Sometimes they worked, sometimes they didn’t. Austin figured early on how feelings could get attached even if arrangements were made to stop that from happening. The casual flings he has run into women looking for more, ones he leaves and turns away in their own disappointment because that’s not at all what he’s searching for. He’s clear of his good time and then he can get back to working his stupid job and then hanging out with his friends to pass the time and make life less suckish.
He doesn’t want to envision you with anyone else. He already had a hard time seeing you with Fabian throughout the years, but he can’t be involved with you more than he currently is. As his earlier thoughts indicated, you could move to another relationship and dump your ex-related issues onto him instead of Austin and sleep on his couch or bed, whatever the hell mystery guy had at his place.
“I think that… it might do you good to put yourself out there again,” he reluctantly chirps and stares at the television ahead. He has to or else he’s going to advise you that this isn’t a good idea. “You’ve only been with Fabian, right? You could see what’s out there and if it goes to shit, then you can stay out of the dating pool until you’re ready.” He doesn’t miss how you lean forward and that top of yours hugs your chest tighter from the compromising position. Your cleavage swells and he wills himself to lean his head back again, his eyes shutting. That’s how he managed not to be swayed by your subconscious charms before.
“Oh, okay! Yeah, that’s good!” Austin feels the couch shift as you stand to your feet. Your sneakers squeak on the floor and air hovers over his feet. He doesn’t need to open his eyes to know you’re pacing back and forth. “I don’t even know what to wear. I haven’t been on a first date in… in years. How do I entertain a grown man for that long?”
Austin makes a sound resembling a tsk as he clicks his tongue. A laugh filters from him and he points his chin up to the ceiling to try and get more comfortable.
“Blow him.”
His guard’s lowered staying out of his head and focusing on not staring at you for too long, for the afflictions that it may cause. The statement slipped from his mouth easily because he fell into banter with you without thinking and suddenly, by how quiet you are and how he can no longer feel gusts floating over his skin, he comes to the revelation that you’ve stopped in your tracks. His joke must’ve offended you in some way. Here you were seeking out his opinion and he ruined it by being blunt and a typical man. Austin sighs and forces himself from where he is to lean onto his elbows. He looks from your face, those lips parted and eyes of a doe, down to your shoes.
“Sorry, I was just kidding and I didn’t m—”
“Austin, can I tell you something private? It’s about me and Fabian.”
Austin’s eyes skirt from your shoes up to your eyes and he gazes at you with nothing but suspicion. He’s not sure how the two of you wound up circling to this premise on your mind, but he’s also too inquisitive for his own good. He’s debating on waving you off and just forgetting about this whole conversation, but you seem to take his silence as a means to continue talking.
“We never really did… that kind of thing. We fooled around and I’m not a virgin, but that? No… Ha. I wouldn’t even know what to do if someone asked me to.”
Whatever god or gods were out there if at all did not like to see Austin comfortable in any capacity. He didn’t ever think he would be here talking with you about getting over Fabian while you stayed at his place, much less about sucking someone off you planned to use to move on. He almost doesn’t want to respond because it might be his brain still dreaming and dream-you was setting him up for the embarrassment of the rejection his masochistic subconscious warned him about in the past. He tries not to acknowledge the sick thrill that runs through him knowing that you and Fabian didn’t get to that level of sexual activity. It pisses him off that Fabian took your virginity, but from your skittishness, Austin surmises you’re not sexually experienced and that means that Fabian’s filthy hands didn’t taint you, at least, not like how he thought. Relief floods him at that since the idea of you and Fabian in bed used to churn his stomach the wrong way.
Those lonely nights when you came to mind, Austin came over his hand imagining himself with you. Fabian wouldn’t ruin his need for release.
All of this is evidently troubling you. Your shoulders keep rising and falling as you fidget with your thumbs shyly in front of Austin. This information was told because you needed to confide in someone over it, but your concern isn’t relevant to this future date.
“You don’t have to blow anyone, I was joking, alright? You shouldn’t do anything you don’t want to.” And if the guy didn’t want his teeth down his throat, he wouldn’t try to pressure you into anything.
“Yeah… yeah, you’re right. This is just a first date. I’m not even planning on sleeping with him, I don’t know what came over me.” Your arms swing from one side to the next, the atmosphere becoming cumbersome with the thick absence of sound between the two of you. Austin watches you sit yourself back next to him, your elbows coming to rest on your knees in the same way his own did. Seeing that you two were at the same level in that regard, Austin leans backwards and outstretches his arms over the waterfall back of the sofa. He’s not sure if he should bust out some kind of apology for reacting that way to your confession, but he’s clueless in this circumstance. He doesn’t know what you wanted to hear and it’s clear to him it was something specific by how you gradually hug yourself and fight off inner demons batting around the circumference of your cranium.
You chew on your lip and soon, your leg starts to bounce. You’re lost in a contemplation and now neither of you are trying to ease up on the tension surrounding. Austin considers standing up to leave you to get ready for bed without any disturbance and because he has work in the morning, but he can’t seem to move from his spot. He’s glued to the cushions, finding other places to stare off at and unfocus his eyes so he doesn’t linger them for too long on you. If you were to turn to him and see it, it would just make everything more awkward than it already was. He’s silently praying you’ll stand up, that you’ll tell him goodnight, anything for him to just get to bed and get out of this weird trap you’ve fallen into.
“Can you teach me?” You whisper, your head turning solely a few degrees from where it hung to stare at the floor. Austin’s bewildered by what you mean, unprepared entirely for the request since he was trying to find ways to slip out of this mess without further damage.
“Teach you what?”
He racks his mind for what you could possibly mean. If you were referring to how to go on a first date, he could somewhat help. He’s been on plenty of those. If you were referring to remaining cool under pressure, he could help you with that too. But it’s the way you swivel where you’re sitting and flutter those lashes at him. You release your bottom lip from where you ensnared it between your rows of teeth and it juts out in a fullness he wants to touch with his thumb. It’s a gentle pout, your head slightly tilting as you say nothing and just wait. Austin almost asks what exactly it is you’re waiting for when it hits him with the weight of a 1,001 bricks upside the chest, a puff of his breath punching out of his mouth in a gasp.
“Are you serious? You want me to explain how to suck dick?” He doesn’t blink an eye being that explicit, not like how you do with hair falling into your face for the purpose of hiding it away in a sheepish manner. That part he also doesn’t understand since you were the one coming forward with this odd request out of nowhere. He hates how the image of your mouth being stretched open by a cockhead springs to life in his brain. He especially hates how he feels himself twitch in reaction.
“Well,” you turn from him completely to look at the floor again, like it’ll help you gather the courage to carry on. “I don’t want you to explain it to me…” For a moment, Austin thinks that he misinterpreted everything. That or his shock caused you to back away. Either option, he holds hope you’ll drop this until you inhale a deep breath and face him with determination in your irises and a confident rise of your shoulders. “I want you to show me.”
Austin’s heart races as you place your hand onto his knee. It’s underneath a layer of his sweats, but somehow, the heat from your palm reaches past the cloth and singes him regardless. You don’t make any further motions, but Austin believes it worse, holding still when his nerves are bouncing all over the place. Touch could chase away doubt and anxiety, but there’s currently too much room for self-aware thought. He even thinks that you could mean some kind of porno that he could refer you to as a possibility, but you both know where you’re going no matter how many hoops he’s diving through to justify this behavior.
“I want you t-to… I want you to guide me. I know I probably won’t need this skill for a while, but I don’t want to embarrass myself. I need practice and… and I trust you.” It has to be you, is unspoken, but it’s flashing loud in your gaze on him. He gulps as you squeeze him in reassurance and then fold your hands in your lap. He gawks at you with a hardened stare, not sure if he should kick you out or grasp your face to kiss your mouth until you plead for air. Of course he wants it. He’s thought about it, dreamt about it, and now there’s an opportunity for it to happen, but he cannot capitalize on it because his damn friends arrive on both of his shoulders to reject the offer. Only rejection doesn’t come off his lips. Nothing does. He’s watching as you nervously clasp and unclasp your fingers in anticipation.
“Come on, we’re both adults. I would greatly appreciate it.” Oh God, Austin needs you to shut the fuck up or his brain is going to short-circuit. He couldn’t believe you were the one trying to convince him, the one even expressing gratitude for it when he’s desired it for so long. It’s surreal hearing it in real life, how you’d be grateful to have his dick in your mouth. “Are you really going to make me beg to suck your dick?” There’s playfulness in your tone and he flexes his hands on the sofa to restrain himself. You’re not making the right thing easy to do by any means. Austin doesn’t even know what the right thing is since all he could think about right now is your bratty, little mouth being filled with his girth.
He forgets to answer you because he’s overthinking. His eyes follow your frame as it stands from the couch and then maneuvers towards the wide V his manspreading legs are creating. As you lower yourself to your knees in front of him, his eyes drift down and his jaw locks seeing you so willing and eager to do something you know nothing about. You’re being naive and he should push this all away for the sake of his friendships and for a less complex of a web being weaved, but your hands land on his thighs and he’s steadily pitching a tent in his sweats from how turned on he really is.
“Please, Austin. Please, I want to. I want to learn how to—”
As much as Austin wants to hear you beg, he can’t halt himself from roughly grasping your chin into his hand, the first pleas on your tongue snapping the resistance band that’s kept him back tonight, yesterday, and for the majority of time that he’s known you. His doubts may have been a little ridiculous and off the mark with how Fabian may react to you staying in Austin’s apartment, but this is an act that would be completely unforgivable. It’s wrong and Austin knows it, but Fabian fades away from his head staring at your timorous features shifting from enthralled fear to innocent lust, a dichotomy he believes only you can manage. Well, if his friends believe that something happened between you and him even if it didn’t, he might as well let that something occur.
“You’ll learn. But you have to do everything I say, princess. Everything. None of that backtalk you always give me or I’ll leave you on your knees and finish myself off in my room.” He pauses and although he just gave you a warning about it, he does expect you to reply with something snarky. Oddly enough, you don’t say anything in retaliation and astonish him with an eager nod of your head, as if his cock is the reward and he was the one being the stickler for not letting you have it sooner.
He releases your chin in satisfaction, his arms moving back to their place stretched along the couch. He’s thinking of what he should tell you to do first, but he’s cut off watching you scramble to sit up higher on your knees as you fumble for something in your skirt. There’s no pockets in it, so he sees more skin appear as you lift your top and retrieve your phone tucked in the waistband of your skirt. Austin’s about to ask if you need him to set it aside when you turn it on and then thrust it into his lap. He blinks down at it in confusion, the camera app open. He sees part of his couch and the opaque silhouette of his thigh facing it from where he sits.
“Why is your camera on?” is what he decides to go with, Why’d you give me your phone being another that he plans on asking. He raises the phone up, but before he could turn it off and place it down, your hand takes his wrist. His eyes lock onto yours, an eyebrow coming up quizzically.
“I want you to film me.” Austin’s eyebrows must hit the ceiling from how far they fly up. You’re not letting up on him whatsoever. “I don’t just want to be good at this, I wanna look good too. I can watch it back after this and see what I need to work on. Is that okay?”
The throbbing in his sweats is more prevalent than before from how this is going. He’s fulfilling desires he’s put on the backburner for so long now that you keep finding ways to catch him fully off guard. This is everything he could ever want, stressors melting in the background as he chooses not to reply and simply raises the phone up and presses record. He watches your face through your phone screen, the shy smile once there morphing into one of glee that is too sweet for the context of all of this. With the knowledge that he started the video, your hands reach for the drawstring of his sweats, but his opposite hand not holding the phone stops you from going any further with a simple hold on your wrist. Confusion dawns on your pretty face, the look plastered there forewarning him of all the questions you’re going to summon during this process.
“You don’t want me to take off your pants?” Worry encompasses your features as if Austin has changed his mind and you just made a fool of yourself in front of him groveling. He quickly chases that away by shaking his head.
“No, not yet,” he reassures and feels the bones in your wrist shift in accordance to your visible relief, “First thing’s first, I need you to take off that hair tie.”
“What?” You blink at him in confusion, a speck of glitter flicking off the tip of your lashes down to the fabric of his sweats. By the end of this, he expects to find specks of the shiny monstrosities all over him and his couch, a downside he’s willing to accept recalling the nature of what you two were about to do. “But I thought it’d keep my hair out of the way.”
“What I’d say about backtalk?” Austin clicks his tongue and he watches in real time as your mouth shuts immediately. He’s never had anything close to this kind of power over you. He’s emboldened by it, by how willing you are to learn from him, and by how he notices how you shift from one side to the next. While his own arousal is on display in front of you, yours isn’t as obvious. But those shifting hips, those give away how uncomfortable that underwear of yours must be getting underneath that stupid, short skirt. “Now, as I was saying, I want your hair down. Sure, it’d be easier for you, but I like something to grip at. I like something to pull on. I don’t think any woman should look clean after giving a blowjob. I like ‘em to look downright filthy when they’re done.”
He illustrates your future with what he deems as simple words, but somehow, the inorganic flush you painted on your cheeks earlier has deepened in reaction. His thumb drifts along the rouge experimentally, this being the first time he touches your face in any kind of capacity and as he imagined it plenty of times before, it’s soft under the pad of his finger. He doesn’t stop bringing it back and forth until one motion in particular nears your mouth and your lips gently part from one another, a silent invitation you grant him for entry. If he angles his thumb to the side, your welcoming mouth would embrace it immediately. He knows it just from how your breath releases from the back of your throat and ghosts over his skin, quietly beckoning him in to use it to his liking. While he would love to feel your slick tongue on it, that’s not what this was about. He was doing the noble honor of honing your oral skills and you’re eager to be filled with another one of his appendages begging for some kind of attention in the confinement of his sweatpants.
Gradually, he lets go of your chin to resist the temptation of sliding his fingers into your mouth. He can see the confusion in your eyes, but you’re quick to sit up again and reach your arms up to the back of your head to fulfill his request in due time. The hair tie soon evades your hair and you present it to him. He thinks you’ll put it aside, but as you have been doing these past two days, you surprise him and reach for his hand, slipping the band onto his wrist that only makes a small appearance in the camera shot. He doesn’t comment on it, just flexes his jaw as you sit back into place with your hands on your thighs as you await his next instruction.
“Good… Now you’re ready to go. You can start by taking me out of these fucking sweatpants before I poke a hole in them.” He gestures with your phone to himself to emphasize his point, watches as your eyes follow the movement and glue to the length protruding stiffly against the gray material horribly covering him away. You don’t waste any time scooting closer to him, your dainty hands latching onto his waistband to maneuver it out of the way. He lifts his hips off the couch to help your movements and soon enough, the surrounding air touches his girth, his cock and balls sitting on the outside of his pants that you try to pull further down. Austin waves your hands away and you pull them back as if he slapped them, wanting to be obedient in every sense to where he can’t help but slyly smirk. Your hands fall to your lap, but he sees your eyes are on his, widening from the sight, perhaps his size, but whatever the reason, he can tell you’re intimidated.
“Relax, brat. We’re taking this slow. Go ahead… touch me.” Austin purposely maintains a vagueness to this direction because he wants to see what you’ll do naturally, that way he can gauge where you lack the skill and how he can help from there. You’re hesitant as you lift a hand out of your lap and reach for him, your palm meeting his bare flesh, fingers wrapping around him in a loose hold that sets his senses ablaze. He gulps down to keep himself at bay and under control and you gulp down because you’re wondering how you’re going to fit him inside of your mouth. His length pulses against you, throbs rhythmically and then speeds as you barely tighten your grip and shift your hand upwards. He groans out into the air and you’re encouraged to move your hand a tad faster, slightly more confident as you look up at him and not at the camera pointed at you.
“Is that good?” You ask, not stopping your motions enough for coherent thoughts to form in Austin’s brain at a regular rate. It takes him longer to answer by a few seconds since he’s flickering his attention back and forth between your face and your hand on him.
“N-not bad… Grip should be a little tighter. S-should feel l-like this.” The hand not holding onto the camera comes down without second thought to engulf yours still locked onto his cock’s base. The veins in his hand bulge as he guides your hand along him, the vise on yours increasing in pressure and when you attempt to mimic it, he emits another groan. You’re a fast learner by the look and feel of it. He curses loud and steadily lets go of your hand to grip onto the couch cushion for purchase.
“Yes, fuck, that’s good. That’s really fucking good, princess. K-keep going. All the way to the tip.”
He didn’t even have to tell you twice. You adopt the grip he showed you and pump your hand from his base to his tip as he says and he can feel his breath shortening, his camera work becoming shakier and shakier by the second. For someone who hasn’t done this before, you seem to be poised and up for the challenge, still looking up at him through impossibly long lashes in an eager effort to please him. To please him, to please Austin. He thinks for a moment that he’ll wake at any point, but this isn’t a dream. This is real and it feels better than any imagery his brain can muster while he’s out cold. There’s nothing that can beat the sensation of actual touch, the sensation of your hand curled around his cock, a fist for him to fuck without doing any work besides the occasional buck his hips push out against his awareness.
As much as he’s enjoying himself off this alone, this isn’t exactly what you asked for. He can see you’re waiting for him to tell you what to do and that fact turns him on in more ways than one, but there’s still the main subject matter to attend to that has yet to be addressed. Freeing the cushion of his clutch, he props two fingers up to point at your lips, to which he then crooks in a motion towards himself. That’s when he witnesses your face light up, your lips parting further than they have all night in a lustful thirst that can only be quenched by what’s currently thrumming with need in your hand. You stumble slightly coming closer to him, where your elbow rests on his knee and your left hand eases onto his thigh to stabilize your form.
“Look into the camera.” Austin’s command is stern and it slides off his tongue with a force that you comply with without a lick of protest. As your mouth opens and your tits press against his leg, you daringly look up into the camera lens through your lashes and bring his swollen tip inside. He’s hot and heavy on your tongue, spongy and throbbing in a matter that you try to widen the entry so your teeth will be out of the way. The contact has Austin slam his fist into his couch cushion, an action to keep himself in the continued position. If he listened to his instincts, he’d be pushing your head down until you choked on him.
“Deeper… until you can’t anymore.” Tension collects in his muscles holding himself stationary, crescent indents creasing into his palm from how taut his fist is clenching into itself. His short, blunt nails stop it from stinging as much as it would if they were long, but everything is being drawn like a bow to accommodate your lethargic pace descending on his length. Never mind how your tongue proceeds to curiously swipe at him with every inch glissading into your mouth, his cock twitching against the miniscule mounds of your tastebuds. And while all of this feels like a sensory overload at this snail’s race, the part that persists in aggravating the difficulty of being immobile and ignoring his own insisting pleasure is how you defy his order and stray your eyes from the lens to lock them with his cerulean that he bets appear royal from the lechery traveling throughout him. He can see himself in the reflection of your eyes, his jaw slightly agape from every breath he’s consciously exhaling and inhaling back in. When he focuses past that, he notices the dilation of your pupils, how glassy and moist they appear because of the long forgotten television light in the background. The silhouette of your body bent over him is a shape that will haunt him going forward.
Eventually, you have to stop. You stop with a mouthful of cock, clinging closer to his leg, drool seeping from your bottom lip down the underside of him, the remaining girth not inside, that he feels seep to his balls. Austin unfurls the fist of the hand not holding the camera to finally part your hair with his digits, the pads of them shifting against your scalp as the pleasant and silent job well done. He registers how you hum on him, it vibrates your teeth on his skin and he shudders watching you lean into his fingers to relish in the praising contact. In a turn of events, he’s learning about you and what you like just as you’re learning about him.
“Almost all of me, not bad. Not bad at all. But let’s see if this is really your limit.” You blink at him bewildered to what he could mean, but he gives you no time to figure it out. Austin’s hold on your head reaffirms itself as he faintly lifts his hips to drive himself in further and immediately, you sputter around him, your eyes shutting and your neck straining in the instinctual motion of trying to pull away from him. Your lips drag only a centimeter backwards because of how Austin keeps your head in place, throat tightening and constricting him to where he lets out a satisfied moan. Soft tears collect in your eyes, the very same ones you blink up at Austin in a plea to be released, but he only returns said plea with an open-mouthed grin and a rising and falling chest.
“I guess it really is your limit… but that’s where it’s supposed to be.” He leans forward from the couch to get closer to your face. He can tell you’re barely getting over the gagging he just subjected you to. “You should take it until you feel you’re about to choke. The closer to the throat, the better. And don’t worry about the gagging.” His fingers nuzzle against your scalp, affectionately massaging your head despite the predicament being anything but gentle. Still, you flutter your lashes at him in a hope that shows you’re still game. You’re still up for the task, even with the praise, and even with the manhandling. “It feels good for me, looks good too. You’ll have to watch this back to see what I mean.”
Eventually, Austin’s fingers deviate from your scalp and tangle themselves into your hair. They’re still relatively close to your head, enough to hold the reins on your hair and guide you according to his desires. “Suck, princess. Suck my cock like a good, little slut.” His words are nothing short of bold and exploratory at best, but your eyes glaze over, and he can tell you’re close to downright humping his leg from how much you’re unashamedly enjoying yourself. You suck at him as he told you to do, whimpering in the process because Austin pushes his hips up again and tests your gag reflex. Taking the hint, you begin to move your head along with how you’re sucking him, back and forth, tongue gliding under the underside of him, your hand steadying at his base to ensure he wouldn’t slip out. “Yes, yes, fuck, fuck me… T-that’s it. From your choking point back to the h-head. J-just like you did with your hand.”
That seems to be the right form of technicality to direct you with because you move and bob your head faster on him. It’s harder to suck at the same time of the movement, but you work diligently to suck in tandem with your lifting and falling head, spit trickling and slicking him up to where it coats over your fingers sitting at his base. To try and alleviate the sticky feeling forming, you wiggle your digits, a motion that Austin moans louder for. For him, it’s further friction on him, a neglected portion of him not being stuffed inside of your mouth. The remainder is attended to with a clumsy fist, but in his eyes, something’s better than nothing. You attempt to pump him at the same time that you’re bobbing on him and he rewards you with a harsh tug of your hair, his head thrown backwards to moan towards the ceiling.
“Fucking n-natural. Come on, close… lemme fuck your throat.” The restraint he’s practiced is beginning to evade him. His hips are meeting some of your pushes downwards and he can tell you’re struggling to keep up when that occurs. That bit of speed, coupled with the reverie of always wanting to fuck your mouth, he needs it to hit that sweet edge, the one that he knows is going to be colossal for him because it’s never felt this fucking good. For someone who’s never sucked a dick in her life, you’re quickly getting the hang of it. But that didn’t matter. He could help you practice tenfold, whenever and wherever, he didn’t even fucking care if it was in front of Fabian—your mouth was made to take Austin’s cock. He wonders if your pussy was made for him the very same.
He can’t possibly receive audible permission with his dick in the way. He also doesn’t want to pull out being on the brink of an orgasm. Fortunately for him, you look up at him through wet lashes and slowly remove your hand off his base, both of your palms planting onto his thighs. It’s your way of being receptive, something in your irises conveying that he could go on with what he requested and he doesn’t hesitate to do so.
Using his hold in your hair, Austin pistons his hips upwards and presses down on the accelerator to deliver that extra bit of speed and momentum he requires. The tip of his cock meets organic flesh with every thrust into your mouth and the back of your throat tickles to the point of where you cough around him and grasp his wrist to slow him down, and he does, but he continues with the force he has. He pushes himself until he smothers your gag reflex, tears sliding down your cheeks as he holds you in place and gives you no room to breathe from your mouth since it’s filled to the brim with his girth. “Relax your throat, it’ll be easier.” He brings his hips backwards, his cockhead suctioned by your lips. He senses your hesitation to try and pull off of him, a denial of simple instinct to breathe since he’s made it clear that you need to stay on his cock at all times during oral sex. He appreciates your resistance to place your needs first and your insistence to prioritize his, a lesson in cock sucking that he’s been more than happy to literally drill into your head.
“Your mouth’s for fucking—not for breathing. B-breathe through your nose.” Austin’s hand slides along the side of your head to cup the curve of your jaw into it. He focuses his gaze and the camera on your features, mascara running down the paths of the tears that passed through. Your lips are crimson from how swollen they are, from the suckling and from how he’s pried them open and stretched them to mold over his length. Even that tiny heart from earlier has been ruined. It’s smeared at the bottom and resembles a miniature mountain more than it does an accented heart. As he observes you with a glowering intensity in his eyes, he repeats his actions from before and lifts his hips until the tip of him approaches the hilt once more, your eyes filling with more tears. You struggle to meet his gaze this way, going as far as closing your eyes to endure what he’s bestowing upon you, fresh tears falling freely down your cheeks, some falling to his thighs, others caught by the palm caressing your face. His thumb runs up your cheek to catch a free falling tear before it can make it past the hollow of your cheekbone. The pink blush you powdered to the area coats the pad of his thumb along with the moisture of the tear he rescued from its dive downwards.
It’s shuddering and shaky and you’re trembling to where the uneven bone of your kneecaps shift uncomfortably on the floor, but you breathe through your nose as Austin instructed you to do before, all while watching as he brings his thumb to his mouth to suck off the blush and the salt of your tear away. You whine at the sight, your tongue somehow flicking despite the lack of room in your orifice, but the light-headed feeling collecting in your skull floats away with the filtering of oxygen returning back. After that initial breath, you’re inhaling heavily through your nose, straining yourself to stay coherent and suck on him with every pull backwards. Once he realizes you’re not going to pass out on him, he resumes that brutal pace from before and slides his hand from your jaw to the back of your neck. Your hair strands are wildly flying with every thrust of his hips, some sticking to your face due to the wetness gathered there from light perspiration to the tears that have dropped by and are still dropping by since relaxing your throat isn’t as easy with Austin downright pounding into your mouth. He sees your thighs squeeze tight from this angle and the image pops into his mind of how wonderful they would feel squeezing at his head as he slotted his tongue deep inside of your cunt. He could use that and his fingers to spread you as wide as possible for him so he could fuck you just as he’s fucking your mouth. By the looks of it, you’re already delirious from how much he’s giving you. You’d probably go cock dumb if he split you open with his dick and played with your little clit.
“I’m so fucking close, princess, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he gasps, holding himself off, unable to stop from maneuvering in and out of you in the process of how fast he’s talking. “I-I’m gonna’ cum in your mouth. Swallow what you can, Jesus Christ, fuck—”
Your whimpering has actually transitioned into what Austin can only describe as desperate moaning around his cock, the sounds vibrating on his girth, the sounds alerting him of how much you want his cum in the place he promised to do it. It does him in, everything does. From how wrecked your face appears to the images littering his mind every time he closes his eyes to raggedly take in air to the absolutely delicious feel of your warm mouth wrapped around him and the tightening of your throat each time he pushes himself past your breaking point, he hits his peak sooner than he would like and compresses his hold at the back of your neck to manage your position completely still. Cum spurs from his base to his tip, gushing out to meet the taste buds at the back of your tongue and the wall at the back of your throat. You promptly gag in reaction from the thick liquid drowning you and from the overload of the max capacity sitting inside of your mouth. Part of his cum leaks from the corner of your lips, but you wrestle to swallow what you can with his girth still pulsing and spurring with more to glaze your mouth with.
Solely when he’s finished does Austin release your neck, panting above you, coming down from his high. He almost drops your camera, but in his haze he somehow manages to remember his task and he props the phone up to film your face, groaning as you remove him gently and cough sporadically from the heaving and hauling you just endured. He glances down at his cock, a ring of that berry gloss near his base as evidence (along with all the spit) that it was you who just gave him the blowjob of his life and not some whore who’s sucked 1,000 cocks over. That truth causes his cock to twitch, another desire quickly coming over him to bend you over his armrest, but his orgasm has given him some clarity and he remembers that you asked for this and not for penetrative sex. Assuming when this was for your own practice would be crossing that line further and he wouldn’t do that… not unless you asked him again.
“Make sure to get all of it,” he grits, his voice raspy from the moaning. He leans to use his thumb again, pushing the drops of cum that fell past your lips into your mouth. From how you were just spluttering in your recovery, he doesn’t expect you to drape your tongue over his thumb the way that you do, but as tonight has proved, you’re astonishing in action just as you are in looks. He clears his throat when you’re done, his back falling into the couch as exhaustion melds into him as it did right before all of this began. He believes he’s going to get a good night’s sleep after all.
“Did… Are you good? Did any of that help?” He would’ve dwelled on coming up with something better than what he said, but he was having trouble considering how you just wiped his damn mind blank.
“Yes, Austin,” damn, if he thought his voice was raspy, he was poorly mistaken. Not only do you look like you just sucked his dick, you sound like it too. “That was… I liked how… informative you were. I can’t wait to watch this back.” He gets one last shot of your face flitting over with an excited glee and mirth before you retrieve your phone from him and stop the recording. He’s not sure what he was thinking you would do next, but it certainly wasn’t how you all but sat into his lap and threw your arms around his neck. His body is humming with endorphins, too many to make any efforts to push you off of him, but you are dangerously close to smashing him from where he was still hanging out of his sweats.
“Hey, hey, careful, brat—”
“Sorry, sorry!” You jut your hips back to ensure his safety, a glance taken down at his half hard cock that leaves you timorous as you look back to his face, as if you didn’t almost beg to have it in your mouth and then moan like a slut for his cum. It makes him want to do it all again. “Thank you, Austin. I mean it. I’ll send you the video so we could both have it and so you can give me some tips if you have any more.”
Not only did you almost beg him to suck him off, but you thanked him for it. He’s so hung up on that part that he didn’t register what you said about sending him the video. His brain stops dead in its tracks thinking about having that kind of footage on his phone to incriminate him further (but satisfy him during those particularly lonely nights) and so he doesn’t notice how close you’re getting to him until he feels your pillowy lips puckered and smacking against his cheek for a light kiss. He blinks, positive his face is rosy from the exertion and from how you just heated him up from a simple peck on the cheek, but you just smile and scoot off of him to stand on your feet. You’re already replaying the video and he can hear the depth of his own voice floating away behind him as you announce “I’m going to take a shower!”
He doesn’t attempt to stand up since he’s still coming down from his climax, the images from what just happened colliding together in his mind, flashing so bright to the point where he believes he’s never going to be able to forget this happened. The weird part is how unguilty he feels over the whole ordeal, contrasting greatly to the guilt he felt before from simply letting you stay here in his apartment with him. He wants to make some kind of sense of it, but he’s also been drained of energy and sanity, something he thinks he’ll have more of tomorrow morning. He’ll be suitable to contemplate all of this after getting some much needed rest, letting that weight down to lift up to his shoulders the next day instead. He’s grasping at the couch to help himself up when he hears a distinct ding from his own phone neglected at his coffee table. Austin gulps reaching for it, having a feeling of what the notification might be. He’s proven right opening your bland message thread together, the thumbnail of the video being the image of you on your knees in front of him.
He presses play at the same time that he hears the shower head turn on from his bathroom.
#austin butler#austin butler imagine#austin butler x reader#austin butler x you#how to get over your ex#l4l.writes
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our love is god [ethan landry] pt. 2
read part 1 here || all parts
pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader
warnings: light angst, mention of drugs/alcohol
a/n: hey, thanks for all the love on the last part! i promise I'm not churning these out like crazy lol, i wrote the first chapter way before posting it here. not a lot of ethan in this one because we have to flesh out the lore, but i make up for it with some tara/sam angst! yippee!
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“I can’t believe it. I actually can’t believe it.” Chad’s eyes are wide with amazement. “Y/N, at a loss for words? Because of a guy?”
“Dude, I’m telling you, it happened!” Tara said.
I was beginning to get tired of this back and forth.
Friday nights were usually fun, the whole gang gathered in Tara’s room, getting ready for the night’s festivities (in this case, a house party at the Woodsboro Community College), but today, my friends seemed more interested in rehashing today’s lunchtime events.
“Do you know what his name was?” Anika asks.
“Oh god, please don’t egg them on,” I groan. “No, I didn’t catch it.”
“Hey, he didn’t throw it, either,” Tara teases. “He was probably just as nervous. The dude could barely even make eye contact with her.”
Chad sits up on Tara’s bed. “What did you say he looked like?”
“Uh, tall, really tall. Curly brown hair? He was new, I’d never seen him before. And neither had Tara, so don’t chalk it up to my being a newcomer.”
“Wait. Oh my god.” Mindy suddenly chimes in. “I know who he is. His name is Ethan Landry, he’s in my American History.”
I can’t lie; I’m excited by this. “Really? Why haven’t we seen him before?”
“Because he just moved here.” She grins. “Hey, I thought you’d given up on high school boys, anyway.”
I tinge pink. “Never say never, I guess?”
Chad and Tara whoop. Anika rolls her eyes at them. “Do you think he’ll be there tonight?”
I scoff. “I doubt it. We already have to lie about being college students to get in, anyway.”
Tara’s eyes glimmer. “Hey, you never know. That means you have to get extra dressed up for tonight, just in case he’s there.”
I am not prepared for one of Tara’s evil-genius machinations, especially not a makeover. But I entertain the fantasy for a second too long, and she takes my silence as agreement.
That’s how I find myself in one of Tara’s old dresses, a strappy black thing that hangs too low on my chest for my liking. After fighting over it for a long while, she eventually agrees to add a long-sleeved top underneath, if only to stop my whining.
Yet even though my getting-ready process was the most involved, I’m still the first one downstairs, which is typical. I’m debating whether or not to run for the hills and go home when Sam comes through the front door.
“Oh, hey, Y/N. Is Tara upstairs?” She sets down a few bags of groceries and turns to lock the four deadbolts freshly nailed to the door.
“Hey, Sam. Yeah, she is. I think everyone will be down soon.”
There’s an uncomfortable energy between us. Sam has never liked me much. Not because of my character or anything, as Tara has reassured me, but she’s overly wary of outsiders ever since last year’s attack. I try not to blame her, but I can’t help but feel a little hurt when she keeps her distance, giving me a once-over instead of asking about my day.
The tension is broken when I hear the rest of the gang come down the stairs. Sam smiles when she sees Tara, but it fades when she notices that we’re all dressed up. “Hey, Tar, where are you guys going tonight?”
Tara shifts her weight from foot to foot. “My friend at Woodsboro Community College offered us an in, so… we’re taking advantage of our youth?”
Sam’s face darkens. “No. No way, Tar. You remember the last time someone had a party around here? We nearly died.”
“Jesus Christ, Sam,” Tara groans. “You were out of my life for five years now you can’t let me be alone for five minutes..”
I look at Chad, uncomfortable. He slightly shakes his head at me– better not to interfere.. Still, I feel like I have to say something. “Hey, Tara, maybe she’s right, we could just–”
Tara whips around to glare at me. “You’ve got to be kidding, Y/N. Butt the fuck out.” Her words sting, but I step back and sit on the couch.
“I’m not interested in living in the fucking past, Sam,” she continues. “I’m not gonna let what happened to me for three days define me for the rest of my life.”
Sam is quiet. I expect her to snap, to yell at all of us, but she just stares at Tara for a few seconds.
Finally, she picks up her bag again. “Alright. Fine. Go to the party, bring your taser, or not, I don’t care. I won’t be here when you get back.”
Tara’s eyes widen. “Wait, Sam. Wait. I’m sorry, I–”
“No, it’s really fine.” She glances around the room, where the rest of us are trying to blend into the shadows. “I hope you guys have fun. If some psycho killer tries to get you, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
With that, she marches upstairs, and I hear her bedroom door slam and lock.
No one knows what to say. Tara turns her back, and I see her wiping away angry tears. Without looking at us, she opens the front door. “Okay! Who’s ready?”
“Tara, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Anika says. “We can stay back if you want, I mean–”
“Nope! What I want is to get so shit-faced I don’t remember this conversation. Let’s go.”
My stomach still feels hollow, but I silently follow Tara out of the door. Anika and Mindy follow close behind.
Chad takes a second before making up his mind. He grabs his keys. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go, then.”
#ethan landry fanfiction#ethan landry#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry x y/n#jack champion#scream 6#scream 2023#heathers au#heathers#high school au
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