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kryptonitejelly · 2 years

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Flyboy (Part 2) | Jake Seresin x Reader Top Gun: Maverick - Jake Seresin x Reader Genre: romance; fluff; angst; best friends to lovers Warnings: general hangman being hangman; sexual tension; general cursing; will contain mentions of a break up / previous relationship; general use of pet names; fem!reader; pining; general naval / flying inaccuracies. Length: Mini-series, chaptered - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Epilogue

Summary: Jake gets called back to TOPGUN the same time you’ve been granted a sabbatical from work. He invites you, his purely platonic best friend of years, to live with him for 6 months and you accept. Just two best friends kicking it back for 6 months in San Diego, Fightertown USA, right?

A/N: Thank you all for the love that everyone has given to Flyboy. I’m so glad that you guys are enjoying this with me <3 I was not expecting all the love, and I hope the rest of Flyboy doesn’t dissapoint.

Flyboy | Mini-Series Masterlist

(If you haven’t already seen them - blurbs and asks (one-shots coming soon) are also listed on the Flyboy masterlist!)

Flyboy - Part 2

PART 1 <<

Approximately 5.1k words

The two weeks after the day you arrive in San Diego passes in a blur. You hardly see Jake in the two weeks, but being busy doesn’t give you much time to notice his absence.

He leaves you one of his credit cards, the small rectangle placed in the middle of the small kitchen island, with a text to your phone bestowing upon you the task to “get whatever else you need to make this place liveable”. You shoot off a text with a snark about how he had only invited you here for the help, and he only responds by sending you a wink. You slip his card into your wallet, but end up pulling out your own plastic anyway. There was no need for Jake Seresin to be paying for the pastel coloured ziplock bags you decided you needed, just because they looked nice, or for the extra cushions that the sofa just had to have.

Between buying bits for the house, which truth to be told was already stocked up on the essentials, you had ended up spending a majority of the two weeks answering work calls which were essentially a cry for help, kicking off desperate stray emails that were still pinging their way into your inbox, and tying off the last of the loose ends from stragglers at work pleading with you for guidance before you powered down your laptop for good over the next few months.

“Still on that laptop? I thought you were on sabbatical.” You look up at Penny who is polishing a glass behind the bar.

“People are a pain.” You grumble back in explanation as you roll your eyes.

“Shut it off.” She places the glass on the rack above while slinging the cloth across one of her shoulders. “They’ll figure it out.”

You press send on your last email, before jabbing a thumb down on the power button, watching the device splutter to black, before you push down the screen.

“Done.”

It earns you a cheer from Penny, and her teenage daughter Amelia who looks up from her book with a toothy smile to join her mother in your celebration.

“So, what’s on the agenda today?” Penny asks you, her hands on her hips. “More decorating?”

“No.” You laugh, slightly sheepish. It was clear to the three of you that Jake and your house was currently, hands down, the most decorated and furnished house in the community of aviators. “They are delivering my car today.” You grin, referring to the rental you had booked.

“The car? What did you pick in the end.” Amelia drops her book onto the counter as she slides a seat down to sidle up next to you. It was something you had been agonising over the past two weeks after it had become clear that renting a car for the next few months would be a necessity. You had gotten by with hailing cabs, booking ubers, and on occasion taking Jake’s truck when he decided to carpool in with someone else, but given the distance between places here, it wasn’t always the easiest thing to do.

“The range.” You respond, and Penny groans, shaking her head.

“What happened to cruising down the beach with your top down and hair flying in the wind.”

“I live in a gated community of largely male aviators,” you say as you cram your laptop back into your bag. “Can you imagine getting a porsche? I would never actually get the chance to drive the car myself.”

“I suppose.” She sighs, defeated by the truth of your words, as you slide off the bar stool.

“I’ll borrow yours if I want an adventure.”

“Not sure you could handle her, she’s got a temper.”

“Just like her owner.” You tease, only to earn a burst of laughter from Amelia.

You hug the teenager sideways, before leaning across the counter to hug Penny before ducking out the door to search for the staff delivering your rental.

Jake notices the black beast of a car sitting in the driveway as he drives down the street. It’s hard to miss even in the dark, the shine of the black paint shimmering in the streetlight above. It makes him shake his head and grill as pulls his truck up behind and kills the engine.

It had been a rough two weeks, with Cyclone calling the team back in at the last minute, for an intensive break down of the uranium mission, with hours in the air running practice rounds to see how the mission could have been carried out better in anticipation of the programme that was starting the next week. That coupled with mandated training that the team had to go through before they themselves could become the trainers, had him stumbling into bed in the wee hours, and waking up against at the crack of dawn to drag himself back to TOPGUN. It was hardly the way he intended to start the 6 months, but when duty called, Jake Seresin answered.

He enters the house as quietly as he can, locking the door behind him. He unlaces and yanks off his boots, before entering the living room to find you curled up on the sofa, a heap of fluff, or a throw bunched up around your shoulders, your eyes closed, mouth slightly open, cheek pressed against a cushion with your body splayed across the length of the sofa, the television playing softly in the background.

The sight sends a warmth spreading through his chest, and he hardly realises the soft smile that has flickered onto his face as he watches you sleep, your chest rising and falling in gentle waves. It had been the first day he had come home to find you asleep on the sofa.

He smells like a day of sweat, jet fuel and dust, but he pushes that out of his mind as he bends at the waist, easily slipping a hand beneath your neck and the other under your knees. He manages to hoist you up and into his arms with ease. The movement doesn’t disturb you, which is testament to you being a deep sleeper, and his face splits into a grin as you turn your face to snuggle into his chest, cheek rubbing against the fabric of his shirt. Your nose wrinkles for a moment, as the remnant fumes of jet fuel hits you, but you bring a hand up in your slumber to rib the tip of your nose and the smell is forgotten.

You’ve gotten lighter, he notes, since the last time he has had to carry you like this - 5 months ago, on the day you had told him you and Dan had broken up, when he had plied you with enough tequila to get you crying and blackout drunk with the result being he had to carry you to your best. It is he thinks, a combination of being on the mend from heartbreak, and overwork.

He manages to make his way into your bedroom to settle you on the bed before pulling the opposite side of your covers over you, wrapping you in like a human burrito.

“Jakey.” He hears you mumble as he turns to go. It makes him look down at you, only to find you still fast asleep. It puzzles him, why you would say his time old nickname in your sleep, but it also brings him a strange sense of both comfort and joy. He runs a knuckle gently down the side of your face, pushing back wisps of hair that have fanned out on your cheek.

“I miss you too darlin.” He murmurs, the words so soft he isn’t even sure he has said them.

Jake steps out of his room three mornings later, the smell of fresh coffee hitting his senses and it makes him pause, his hand on the door knob. Was it a burglary by the world’s friendliest - coffee and ‘hand over the goods’? He treads down the hallway, past the living room, dining area and into the kitchen where he finds you sitting on of one of the barstools, hunched over your own mug of coffee in front of you. Your eyes are hazed with sleep, hair messily piled on top of your head, body swaddled in one of his sweatshirts, paired off with a pair of pyjama shorts.

“Well would you look what the cat dragged out.”

“Good morning to you too Seresin.” You mumble, barely able to muster up the energy to return with a barb of your own. It was still dark out, your coffee yet untouched. You point wordlessly to the filled travel mug and granola bar placed on the small kitchen island beside you.

“That for me?” He asks, and you nod letting out a yawn, while propping your face up on both your palms.

He makes his way over beside you, settling sideways into the barstool on your right, an elbow on the counter of the island, knees facing your side.

“Think this belongs to me.” He tugs lightly on the sleeve of his sweatshirt. It was clear that you had gone rummaging in his closet. He only receives a slight shrug of your shoulder, you still not using words. “Go back to bed.”

“No.” Your protest sounds more like a stubborn whine, and you flap, or attempt to flap, a hand at him. You wouldn’t admit it outrightly even if he asked, but you had taken it upon yourself to drag yourself up a few minutes before he usually left for his day to pull together his coffee, because well, it had been a while since you had seen or spent any time with him.

“You’ve never been a morning person,” he reaches over for the travel mug and flips the lid open to take a sip.

You flip your left palm open to rest the full weight of your cheek on it, turning your face towards him, letting your right hand drop down to the surface of the island.

“And you’re welcome for the coffee.” Your gaze focuses on him, decked out in the khaki of his uniform with his white undershirt peeking out, face clean shaven, hair slicked back. It was hard to deny that the uniform suited him.

“Thanks,” he grins and offers you a belated thank you before taking another sip and popping the lid back on. He reaches over to grab the granola bar, picking up the travel mug along the way, before standing.

“Jake?”

He hums in acknowledgement, looking down to find your face now angled up to him.

“Fly safe.” You mumble, your voice still thick from sleep. You see him stare at you for a full three seconds, before his hand slips around your shoulders to pull you towards him. Your shoulder presses against his abdomen, and your face connects with his sternum as he holds you against him in a hug. Your hand that is at rest on the counter top instinctively moves to wrap itself around his waist, your thumb slotting itself into one of his belt loops. His hug catches you off guard, but at 5.30 in the morning you don’t have the mental facilities to overthink how domestic a morning with Jake Seresin of all people feels.

“Go,” you say against his shirt, and and you can both hear and feel the amusement in his reply as it rumbles through his chest.

“Got to let me go first sweetheart.”

“Gladly,” you want to roll your eyes, but you don’t because it is way too early. You pull yourself away from him, both elbows coming to a rest on the counter, face positioned above your still untouched cup of coffee.

Jake feels the lack of warmth against his body as you pull away, but he lets you and settles instead on flicking the messy up-do on your head before heading out into his day.

“It is the first weekend that you guys have been off, and the first thing you decide to do is have a barbecue with each other?” You snort in disbelief as you anchor your sunglasses on the top of your head while stepping into the store.

“Mav.” He states, as if the man’s call sign is explanation enough, and shrugs.

“Decided that he couldn’t go a day without see you lot?” You ask as you pull your phone out from your bag, searching for the message from Tash, listing out the items you both needed to procure.

“Decided that a barbecue would be a good way to meet the trainees before we start the programme next Monday.” He explains in full as he slides his own shades off, anchoring them to the front collar of his tshirt. Jake cranes his neck over your shoulder to peer at your phone. “I still don’t get why Pheonix texted you instead of me.” He grouses.

“Because Tash, knows if she leaves it to you, you’ll not turn up with half the items on the list.”

“Tash?” He raises a brow. “You guys best friends now?” He feigns mock hurt.

“The best.” You say emphasising both words, and he narrows his eyes at you, slinging an arm around your neck, pulling your head against his. Your sunglasses knock against the side of his hair and you stumble slightly, your sandals smacking against the floor.

“I didn’t bring you here to have myself replaced.”

“Then you better up your game Seresin.” You struggle fruitlessly against his hold. “Instead of trying to strangle me in the middle of goddamn public.”

“Shall we, my lady?” He releases his hold on you, and presents you with his arm instead.

“A gentleman?” You question and he sticks his arm an inch more towards you. You sigh loudly in defeat before slipping your hand through the crook his arm creates to hold onto his bicep.

“Lead the way.”

“Someone,” Rooster slides onto the bench beside Jake, shades covering his eyes although the sun is fast setting, “is hitting on your girl.”

Jake tears his attention away from his conversation with Payback, both men sticking their heads up like gophers in the sand, eyes searching the aviator crowd, largely comprising of trainees, that dot the beach space just beyond The Hard Deck. Jake doesn’t protest at Rooster’s use of the term “your girl”, but his eyes narrow as he spots you standing in the crowd, red solo cup in hand, your hair glinting in the soft glow of the generous string of lights dotting the space overhead.

He watches as one of the trainees, tall, dark hair, chiseled face, makes you laugh, as he shifts another inch closer to you, watches as you laugh along. The trainee says something else, and his hand reaches out to touch your elbow, and Jake’s fingers tighten around the neck of the beer bottle he has dangling from his grip.

“Aaand she’s passing over her phone,” Payback narrates the scene as it unfolds, the three men watching as the trainee takes the device from your hand and keys in a string of numbers. “And saved.” Payback finishes with a flourish as the trainee returns your phone, and you clutch it back within your grip.

“Must be tough,” Rooster claps Jake on the back and Jake grits his teeth.

“S’ not like we are together.” He mutters as he takes a swig of beer, and Payback and Rooster find themselves exchanging a glance over his head. “We’re friends.” He shrugs.

You are talking to Penny when you feel your phone, which is grasped in your hand that is hanging loosely by your side, tugged out.

“Penny.” The familiar drawl hits your ears and you don’t bother turning around. Instead, you raise your hand, palm upturned to ask for the return of your phone.

“Hangman,” she greets him in return before shaking her head, her lips slightly upturned, “I’ll leave you two to it.”

“Asking for something?” Jake’s question rings out from behind you, your palm still upturned.

“You know what I’m asking for.”

You feel fingers sliding over your palm, coming to nestle in the space between your own, bending to settle on the back of your upturned palm, his own palm pressed against yours. It makes you whip your head up to stare at him.

“You weren’t asking for my hand?” He says, wide eyed and innocent as he tugs your combined hands down in between you.

“I was asking for my phone,” you blink as you try to free your hand from his grip, but to no luck.

“I need a drink,” he says and begins to stride towards the coolers, your hand still firmly in his. It forces you to follow along, both of you weaving through the crowd, you just a step behind him.

“You can get a drink without manhandling me.” You grumble as you both come to a stop in front of the coolers.

“This isn’t manhandling darlin,” he says as he scans the coolers before picking a beer. “It’s helping.” He tilts the bottle towards you, and tips his chin towards the bottle opener hanging by the coolers.

“Helping?” You scoff your question out as you pick up the bottle opener with your free hand and pop off the top for him.

“Helping,” he affirms and takes a gulp from the bottle. He shifts you both around to face the crowd. “To ward off unwanted attention.”

His words shift the gears in your mind and understanding dawns on you.

“Nate,” you use the name of the trainee who had slipped his number into your phone earlier on, “is not unwanted attention.”

“Isn’t Nate, a child?”

“Younger by a couple of years I think,” you shrug, you gaze darting lazily across the crowd, but not searching for anyone in particular “would make for good fun, with all the time I have.” You are half joking.

“If you wanted fun, all you had to do was ask.” He drops your hand but slides his arm around your waist, his hand coming to rest on your hip. He pulls you towards him so that your side is pressed against his. The movement makes you place your own hand on the small of his back, your face tilting up to face a lazy smirk.

“Manhandling me for the ten millionth time this trip Jake.” You push your other hand against his chest, but he doesn’t budge. You catch Penny and Mav’s darting a glance at you both from the corner of your eye.

“Darlin, you haven’t seen handling yet.” He drops the man from manhandling, both to emphasise that he means no harm, and also for innuendo. He squeezes your waist causing the fabric of your dress to scrunch up slightly, skimming an inch higher above your thigh. Your hand goes lax against his chest at the gesture. Jake had always been flirty, whether to you, the lady at the corner deli, or even the gas station attendant, it was just a part of him, and something you had gotten used to, but if the fluttering feeling at the pit of your stomach and beating of your heart in your chest was anything to go by, this - this felt different.

“I’ll take my chances with Nate, thank you very much.” You collect yourself, hand twisting down to the back pocket of his jeans where you pull your stolen phone out from his pocket. “Now, if you’ll let me go before you ruin my chances with any of these men.”

You both hold each others gazes, your hand now clutching your phone, brushing against the back pocket of his jeans, his hand still planted firmly on your waist.

“I’ll let you go,” he brings his face down, closer to yours, and you find yourself staring at his lips, eyes, and the soft flop of his product free hair over his forehead. “But behave.”

True to his word, he lets you go, and you clear your throat, meeting Pheonix’s eyes from across the space, she waggles her brows at you and tilts her head. You clear your throat, avoiding her gaze and a few other glances at both of you, snatching the beer bottle from Jake’s hand, and putting it to your lips. Men.

The rest of the night had gone by without much of a hitch, but after Jake Seresin’s little show, which Penny had informed you later that everyone had noticed, you hadn’t been approached or spoken to by anyone else apart from the core team of aviators.

You weren’t entirely sure what angle Jake was playing, but you couldn’t say you were surprised either. He had always had something to say about whatever guy you were dating, or whatever boyfriend you had at the time, but he usually had the sense to keep his opinions and actions more measured. It was strange, you had told him before, that he had any views and opinions on the matter given that Jake himself had been in a grand total of two serious relationships in his life, the last of which ended before he headed off for the Navy. Since then, he had been a casual, no-strings type of guy who settled for casual relationships that spanned weeks to a few months, or a mutually beneficial type of arrangement or understanding with whatever his flavour of the moment was. It wasn’t that he didn’t have his fair share of admirers or girls who tried to lock him in for the long run, it was just, as he had told you, he wasn’t interested in anything long term.

Lacing up your running shoes with a little more force than necessary as you think back to the night before, you follow the action by stuffing your earphones into your ears and flicking on your music from your smart watch.

You are on your second round around the compound when he catches up with you, falling into a comfortable pace beside you. You see his lips move, and you can make out the words from the shape of his lips, despite not being able to hear him through the music blaring in your ears - race you, if I win you delete Nate’s number. He holds up 4 fingers, to indicate four rounds around the compound, and takes off with a bound in his step, not waiting for you to follow.

You manage to match his pace, but barely and not with the ease at which he is running, something which you aren’t all too surprised by. You aren’t a teenager anymore, and being one of the best pilots requires a certain level of fitness. You both see your house in sight, and he grins at you before sprinting off. You try your best, legs moving, arms pumping, to catch up with him, but he soars easily across the invisible finish line before you and jogs a circle before coming to a halt. You on the other hand, sprint past the line, and collapse onto the driveway.

“Not fair.” You manage to gasp out as you rip your earphones from your ears, your words coming out in short fast pants. “You’re fit, and started two rounds later.”

“You should have just run faster.” He says and tugs his shirt off his head before falling into a seated position, legs spread out in front of him, on the driveway beside you.

“I was running fast.” You shoot daggers at him from your eyes, sweat trickling down the sides of your temples. “Can’t you see my sweat?” You gesture to your face, and he throws you a look and laughs.

“A deal’s a deal.” He grins as he turns his face back up to the sky, shuttering his eyes as he lets the sun bask down on him, causing the sheen of sweat on his face and body to glow.

“I made no deal.” You tug at your shirt which sticks to your body with sweat.

“Hand it over.”

“I don’t have my phone with me.”

He looks back down to you, eyes squinting in the sunlight.

“It’s alright, we’ll get to it later.”

You roll your eyes, and both of you fall silent, basking in the rays of the sun.

“You know,” you say as you climb into the passenger’s seat of your car before shutting the door behind you. “You could pass off as a dad with three kids.”

Jake gives you a puzzled look, and you gesture around you. You had both decided to go out for a Sunday brunch after the early morning torture run which your jog had morphed into.

“It’s the car, it’s got the dad with kids vibes going for you.”

He shakes his head in disagreement, but ignores your comment, sticking out his palm in front of your face.

“What?” You ask.

“Phone.” He responds, and you shake your head no. “We raced, I won.”

“You’re a bully.” You ignore his hand and buckle yourself into the seat.

“I’ll help myself.” He warns, and you sigh before pulling your phone from your bag and dumping it in his hand.

He makes quick work of unlocking it, and deleting Nate’s number before passing it back to you.

“Done.”

“Bully.” You mumble as he shifts the car out of park and backs out of the driveway.

“Honey I’m home.” You hear the voice break through the silence, and you identify it as Rooster.

“Bradley.” You greet, using his actual name, as the moustached man walks in, grinning from ear to ear.

“Always wanted to try that out and see how it sounds.” He says.

It earns him a smack on the back of his head from Jake who walks in after him, Payback, Fanboy, Coyote, Bob and Pheonix following behind. “Then find a wife.”

“Trace is available.” Fanboy smirks as he nudges Phoenix forward, which causes her ears to tinge with pink. You hide your smile as you busy yourself with pulling out plates from the cupboard. Tash’s not so subtle crush on Rooster had been obvious to you and anyone around you from day 1, and if your hunch was anything to go by, Rooster shared the same sentiments.

“Fuck off Fanboy.” Tash pushes him out of her way as she comes up behind you to gather cutlery.

The rest, still joking, fall into line, each gathering the various utensils and dishes off the counter and stove, before filtering into the dining room. With the trainees in, their programme had slowed down considerably, being the ones to help with doling out the train still meant early starts to the day, but it also meant early ends to their day. It had become a routine of sorts that had started with Tash coming over to join you for dinner, which had to include Jake because he lived here, and you were soon joined by Rooster and Bob who had heard from Tash, Coyote who had heard from Jake, Payback who had heard from Rooster and Fanboy who had heard from Payback. Before you knew it, they were wiring you money for grocery expenses and you had somehow become the designated dinner chef of the group. You didn’t mind however, because they chipped in to help clean up, after which majority of the time, you would all pile into a car or two and drive off to The Hard Deck.

“How was the day?” You ask to no one in particular when you are all settled around the table, each passing along the trays of food.

“Your toyboy messed up today.” Coyote says as he passes on a plate of roast potatoes.

“Toyboy?”

“Nate.” Tash explains to you, none of them aware that you never reached out to him because you were made to delete his number from your phone - something that you honestly weren’t too bothered about, despite what you let Jake think.

“Someone here made him hammer out 300 push ups.” Payback scoops up a handful of carrots before passing the tray down the table, his eyes shooting towards Jake.

“That’s mean.” You say as you scoop a spoon of potatoes onto your own plate.

“I’ll say.” Rooster.

“He’ll thank me for better arms and a chest.” Is all Jake offers as he spears a piece of chicken onto your plate, and then his.

“See you guys.” You call out, waving a hand up in the arm to the group disappearing down the street, each heading back to their own houses.

“Tomorrow!” You hear Tash shout back and you blow her a kiss before locking the door behind you. The group had made a collective decision to sit out going to The Hard Deck tonight, a combination of being both stuffed and lazy.

You hear your phone ring, the accompanying vibration buzzing in your pocket. You pull it out swiping across to answer and put it to your ear.

“You haven’t forgotten my wedding is next weekend have you.” Annie, one of your closer friends from work’s voice crackles across the line.

“Hello to you too, and no I haven’t forgotten.” You walk back into the kitchen, phone pressed to your ear, to find Jake cracking open a can of soda. He looks at you questioningly before leaning over the counter.

“You are bringing a plus one are you?” She asks, and you frown slightly, you had returned to invite 8 months ago when you and Dan were still together.

“A plus one,” you echo out.

“Please tell me you’ve found one, remember when we talked about this at lunch and you said you would. My mother in law will go insane if I change the seating charts again.”

“I’ll bring one.” You confirm as you eye Jake who is sipping out of the can, still looking at you questioningly.

“Great, you’re the best.” You can hear her sigh of relief, and you chuckle, if the stories she had told were anything to go buy, Annie’s mother in law was the mother in law from hell. “By the way,” she starts up again and you hum in question, “I thought you should know, Dan is coming as Lexi’s plus one.”

“I see…” you trail off as she breaks the news to you.

“I didn’t know they were a thing.”

“Well, as we’ve established, there’s a lot no one knows about Dan.” You grumble out, and you see Jake straighten up, brows knotting into a deep frown at the mention of the name Dan.

“Well alright, I’ll see you next weekend. Please make sure you get me drunk.”

“I’m not sure your mother in law would be too happy about that.” You laugh into the phone as you both bid each other goodbye before hanging up.

“What about Dan?” Jake’s focuses in on you the moment the phone drops from your ear. “Please tell me you aren’t seeing that son of a bitch again.”

“My friend from work, Annie, she’s getting married next weekend. It’s back out in New York. Dan’s going.” You shrug.

“Then I’m going.” He says immediately, his chest puffing out slightly, stance changing to protective.

“Well guess it’s a good thing that I’ve room for a plus one. It’s on Saturday, but I have to be there on Friday to help out at the rehersal.”

“I’ll take the Thursday, Friday and Monday off.” He commits instantly, easily, without a beat, faster than any one of your past boyfriends had ever committed to anything, and you nod, finding yourself thinking thank god for Jake Seresin.

>> PART 3

Series taglist: @blue-aconite @rosiahills22 @luckyladycreator2 @britty443 @yanak324 @rule107 @fuckyeahhangman @spidey-d00d @dempy @barista-library @alexwinchester23 @shakira-sasha @bxwitched @lumenseal @obiwankenobis-lap @prettybiching @littlebadariell @actuallybarb @beaner-life-23 @coco-loco-nut @criminalyetminimal @tragzerus @alana4610 @tkmarvel-divergentbish @kilojulietsierra

#flyboy #top gun: maverick #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #hangman seresin #jake seresin fic #hangman fic #hangman top gun #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman imagine #jake seresin imagine #not cm #flyboy fic

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mayasaurusss · 1 month

Note

I've been thinking about transmasc!shauna :(((

-💗

A/N: Hi 💗anon! I'm so so sorry I took this long to make this but i was conflicted on two ideas I got, since i didn't know if you wanted a sfw or nsfw headcanon/blurbs or a oneshot so, since I'm so cool and amazing, I did both! So, expect a Transmasc!Shaun oneshot (with a little twist ;) ), to come out in a few days.

Warnings: sfw, short and maybe kinda rushed, ooc Shaun, he is a clumsy and embarrassed boy, he is taller than us here because I said so, beginning of a relationship.

ANON! If you wanted general transmasc Shauna blurbs with more details about you, him and his journey with transition, ask away! I'd be more than happy to do them! I'm sorry if this isn't what you expected, I wasn't completely sure about how to do this but I tried my best!

Shaun who would fall in love with you the first time he sees you reading 'Pride and prejudice' on a bench outside of school.

He is totally smitten with you. He definitely told Jackie right away about his little crush and she, like the best friend she is, made a detailed plan on how to get your attention. And, since Jackie has befriended you -came to your desk after you had just moved schools and, oh so casually asked to be your friend- at the start of the school year (Shaun thinks:"What? She hasn't told me?" with an annoyed look on his face), this could flow all more smoothly.

This detailed plan consists of: Jackie approaching you after class with the intent of asking you to hang out after school, Shaun barging in the conversation asking Jackie something about helping him with literature studies -which Jackie knows is your favorite subject ever in your course-, excusing herself from his demands and asking you to aid her friend. It's perfect, Jackie thinks, Shaun feels this is too much but who is he to complain? Everything goes smoothly till, when he has to act his part in the plan, Shaun accidentally trips on thin air and falls, the contents of his backpack spilling all over the ground and the remains of his coffee staining his papers and shirt.

He is silent, his cheeks getting red with embarrassment. Both him, Jackie and you do not move for a moment, until the first one to move is you. You neatly pick up the papers and books that have fallen near you, meeting his eyes and looking at him with worry, "Are you ok?". His lips feel dry and his blood pressure rises causing him to redden even more than before "U-u-hh I... I am okay...", he feels like he is going to melt on the spot.

When he gets up, you have already helped him with all of his belongings, Jackie hadn't moved at all from her spot, too embarrassed (even if she hadn't been the one to be utterly humiliated in front of her crush). You try to lighten up the situation, joking about it all, Shaun laughs with you but he is in discomfort: the only chance he had to be the 'cool mysterious guy' blew off of his face, leaving a clumsy and stupid version of himself to the girl in front of him. You, on the other hand, don't think of him in that way: sure it was a bit embarrassing, and also funny, but he must've felt really embarrassed so you don't think about it too much.

Sometime passes, Shaun for the first days after closes himself in his room, remembering it all and changing inside his mind what happened. Jackie tries to call him, but he is unreachable; everything is starting to get ridiculous so Jackie rings the bell of Shaun's house and finds before her, her friend emotionally destroyed. She tries to comfort him, but to no avail; he is also angry at her but he won't mention it, otherwise Jackie would never let him hear the end of it. Much to his surprise, Jackie says that you asked him, "Is he ok? I haven't seen him" and "If he still needs help with the exam, I am here". He is very much red by now, the little hairs at the end of his neck standing up and his eyes watery. "...Really?".

When you meet him again, Shaun is tidy, he wears one of his flannel shirts and gray jeans, he has shaved the uneven peach fuzz that grew on his lips due to testosterone, and has a small red cut on the left side of his lip ("Who knows what she likes?" he tells Jackie while messily shaving himself "And besides I don't want to look like a barbarian!" says while unnoticing the small cut that he made. "Ah!" Jackie laughs, "Now you look like you've gotten into a fight with a cat!"). He tries to act cool, despite his total lack of knowledge on how to. When he sits down with you for the study session, the common hall is silent and you have to whisper, causing him to get a bit flustered. Your study session is cut short when you guys start to have an actual full-on conversation; unknowingly, you both start to talk and laugh a bit more loudly than normal, causing both of you to be escorted out of the library. Out, you two forgot completely your duties and spent an entire afternoon hanging out and talking. You notice it's starting to become dark, and when you look at the hour you see that you've lost an entire afternoon of study: you apologize profusely to him, and schedule another meeting. He can't complain, he gets to see you more.

For a while, this is your routine: meeting, trying to study, chatting and losing track of time. Until the exam gets close, so you try to help Shaun as much as possible and, with little to no surprise, he passes the exam. You are so proud of him, very much so, but now there is the little problem of how to see him again; he doesn't need your help again after all, maybe he never did. So you stay silent, hoping he will reach out to you. Unknowingly to you, Shaun feels the exact same, staring at his phone on the nightstand and hoping to receive a call. But none of you make the first step, both too afraid of rejection. That is when Jackie steps in, barging into Shaun's home with new, like Cupid, she strikes him with "She wants to see you again, I think she might like you". He is on cloud nine, his heart pumps fast and it looks like he might die of happines on the spot.

He calls, asking you to meet him at the same bench he saw you sitting on the first time. When you come, he is all giddy and blushy, he tries to rub off his tension from his hands. His voice is struck in his throat, he is the first to talk "I think...I would like to see you again, if it's fine..." you would like to kiss him, you think, but you're not sure he would like it at all, so instead you mutter "Sure...I would like that too'' with a smile. Your eyes met and without notice, you locked lips in a kiss. It's passionate, it's relieving, it's months of feelings and desires all in one kiss. You let out a breathy laugh, causing him to laugh in the kiss with you also, his arms hug your waist and you his neck, impossibly close to one another. He sighs, his heart is speeding and he feels a happines so strong that it almost seems pain,"Thank you, thank you, thank you...", he holds you close and strokes your cheeks “Thank you!".

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #shauna shipman x reader #yellowjackets x you #transmascshauna #shauna shipman #the author regrets everything

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 1 year

Note

I know you've been getting a lot of male reader requests and I'm so sorry to add on to it-

Could I request a fic where Jason is bullying reader about being "Eddie's boy" or something like that and Eddie gets protective and possessive?

Maybe some smut with rough but loving Eddie? Eddie's absolutely wrecking the reader but still being the sweetheart that he is

Hi! I'll be happy to do my best.

I'm building off a continuation of this blurb, "Teach Me How to Love You" and combining it with another request:

Can you do an Eddie x Male Reader smut where the reader teases Eddie all day in school which makes him really horny. Then as soon as school ends Eddie quickly drags the reader to his trailer and things just go from there. (Sub/bottom reader btw). thank you!

The goal is to try and keep myself from burnout and honor the requests that come in at the same time. Thanks for understanding. Reader is 18.

Eddie Munson x Male Reader.

CW: 18+ Content (Smut--Handjobs and blowjobs specifically)

Feel free to look through my masterlist here!

____________________

Perhaps it was also naive to think that wearing your tightest jeans was just a coincidence on the day that you and Jason had to present your scene. The entire time, while glancing between your piece of paper and the classroom, you stole glances to Eddie. When you two caught gazes, you'd smile and Eddie would send you a wink. But then his eyes would drop down to the front of your jeans and when you turned to the side, he'd tilt his head just a little to catch a side view of your ass.

At the end, after the class finishes their clapping, you lean a bit of your chair to Eddie's seat, sliding a note onto the corner of his desk. Ms. Barlowe is much too distracted by her praise to notice the pass.

You are being so obvious. Perhaps I should get you a bucket.

Eddie scoffs when he reads it, flipping you bird. You laugh, turning back into your seat to face the front as the next pair goes up to the front to talk about the scene they translated and perform it. But the entire time you're staring at pairs, you can feel Eddie's stare boring in the side of your head.

"My place?" Eddie asks at the end of the day, fingers tracing over your palm.

"I have to get my mom from work. I've got the only working car right now."

Eddie nods, understanding the necessity of your part. "Just call when you get back home, yeah? Wanna make sure you're safe."

"Absolutely." You kiss his cheek, aware of the setting though the parking lot is full, most people are too focused on themselves to quite notice. You don't want to push it though.

Eddie opens your car door and closes it once you're situated inside. You roll down the window, through which Eddie leans in. "Still coming to the show tomorrow?"

"I wouldn't dream of missing it. Not with my man performing."

Eddie grins, head lolling gently to the side. "Oh, say that again."

"In your dreams, Munson. But seriously, I gotta go."

"Yeah, yeah, drive safe," he states, stepping away from the car and letting you back out of the spot. Eddie watches until your headlights are just ghosts of themselves before he climbs into the van and starts towards Gareth for band practice. He'd offered his plan as interim and for post practice originally, hoping to get more than just a kiss on the cheek. And if Eddie had anything to do with it, he would.

You seem to make it your life's mission to find every possible piece of distracting clothing and to wear it for Eddie the entire week. When it's not the jeans, it's the tight muscle tee that you wear, Corroded Coffin's logo etched into the front of it with fabric paint, or the button up shirt that most definitely should've been button up more to hide away your chest, but none of the teachers stopped you, or the cologne that isn't one Eddie's noticed you wearing before but smells absolutely fucking delicious. When it's none of that, it's the rings you unearth from where in your closet. Rings were Eddie's thing. And that he didn't want to sharing things, but he takes notes of the way you purposefully talk with your hands more with the rings, like you want to bring attention to them.

And the entire week, because your mom's car is still down, Eddie can't have you. He can't sit you on his lap, can't tug and pull you to a release in his fist like he wants and while it's literally had him rubbing one out nearly every night in the shower, Eddie can be a patient man when he wants to be.

Because Friday night you are all his. Your mother's car is fixed and returned Thursday evening and though Eddie has Dungeons and Dragons to head, there's nothing else that can get in the way.

That is until Jason's pestering comes to a head. He'd been on your ass since you two got assigned as partners and managed to get cordial enough to actually ace the project. However, the days post the presentation, he'd found every reason to corner you.

Today, a rather dry and crisp morning, Jason finds you leaning against the hood of your car, arms folded over your chest as you wait for Eddie. "Oh, are you missing your master? Sitting here like a lost fucking puppet." A slur follows it and you really and truly only want to turn away from him.

He'd gone from bumping you in the hallways, to openly mocking you when you weren't with Eddie. The less you gave in, the harder he tried to get a reaction. Today wouldn't be any different for you.

"You deaf? You hear me talking to you?" Jason hollers. Spit flies off the end of his lip.

You say nothing, staring at him and the crew that's assembled. It would be four against one and if you managed to get a good hit on two of them, the other two would be on your ass in a heartbeat. You're no fool, even if you can feel the tick of your own jaw.

"I'm talking to you," Jason huffs. "Ain't anybody ever tell you it's rude not to talk when someone's talking to you."

"You're yelling. You're not talking."

"You're a fucking freak who's fucking a freak and it's vile," he spits.

"Did Chrissy not put out? Or is it your time of the month?" you return. You hate to bring her into this--Chrissy's always been nice to you. But you know it's going to crawl under Jason's skin and eat him alive. The two of them had been on the rocks. Everyone could see it.

And like a match only needs gasoline Jason rushes you, hands tightening around the collar of your t-shirt. "The fuck did you say to me?"

"I don't think I need to repeat myself," you laugh.

"Hey!"

The call interrupts Jason's wild gaze and when he looks over, he spots Eddie rushing over. Eddie shoves past Patrick, who truly is the meeker of the group. How Sinclair could ever want to get in with the likes of them is beyond Eddie and though it pissed him off, Sinclair and yet to miss a campaign session so Eddie would let it slide until it became a problem. And Sinclair's not a problem, not someone Eddie thinks could be easily poison but Jason was a toxic cloud and strong enough to take almost anyone under.

Jason's grip loosen around your shirt and you swat at his hands. He steps away as Eddie steps between your body and his. "What kind of problem do we have here?" Eddie asks.

Jason grins. "Looks like we've got a freak problem right now. What do you say boys?"

You push up from the hood of the car. It's four against two, still terrible odds, but Eddie's scrappy, you've seen it. And so are you. These are odds you are willing to take and for a fleeting moment, you think the heavens you wore rings today.

You don't know who threw the first punch. It could've been Josh, maybe it was Chance. All you know is that when the gym teachers get involved to break up the fight, your lip may be busted but Josh's eye has seen better day. You're pretty sure Chance as a broken nose. Jason face seems mostly untouched as if he used the other three to shield himself from most of the damage and Patrick's eye and lip are swollen.

You let Mr. Jenkins haul you away, arms going up in defense before you look to find Eddie, who's not even looking at Mr. Polinsky but looking at you. The brawl lands you and Eddie a week of in-school suspension. Two brave witness came to attest that Jason, Chance, Patrick, and Josh instigated the fight but you know the precious Hawkin's basketball team will only get a slap on the wrist in the end.

As you and Eddie leave the principal's office, you notice how thick the silence is between the two of you. You hadn't spoken a word to each other when Eddie came up to intervene and you couldn't really say much as you took fist to your faces and the occasional foot to your rib.

"A beautiful way to start the day, huh?" you tease, nudging at his elbow with your own.

"How long has Jason been antagonizing you?" Eddie ask instead, pulling you of the direction of the nurses office where the two of you were sent with directions to go immediately to the ISS room.

You shrug. "I wouldn't call it antagonizing as much as I would call Jason pathetic."

"He is pathetic. I hate that Sinclair's going to the dark side, but you were severely outnumbered there. How long as he been on your case?"

"A couple of days."

Eddie stares at you, big eyes pleading as you can see the bruises blossoming his face.

"A week," you sigh, casting your gaze down to the ground. "Ever since we presented in English, he's been up my ass."

Your heart drops when you catch sight of the frown on Eddie's face. He speaks before you can ask about it. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It wasn't like he'd threaten to jump me until today," you defend.

"No, but, like, why didn't you tell me when it first started happening? I could've helped."

You laugh. "You helped today."

"I'm being serious." It leaves Eddie's throat in almost a growl and he's fingers wrap around your chin tip of his thumb gingerly grazing where your lip split.

You wince just a little at the touch. "There were so many other things I had to focus on. I just--I didn't think it was a big deal."

"And now you're handsome little face is bruised to all hell," Eddie sighs. He gets that other things were higher priority for you but damn it hurts worse to see you injured.

"I'm tough," you laugh.

"You are. You've always been, but goddamn, I don't want to have to be."

You watch his face, eyes flickering over the injuries you've noticeably sustained. "Don't look at me like that," you sigh. His eyes ooze with regret and a little bit of sadness. He doesn't look at you like you're fragile, but he he does look at you like the whole world might reside in the expanse of your being. "My heart won't be able to take it," you tease.

Eddie grins, it's short lived, his face no doubt sore too. "C'mon," he states gingerly, hands interlacing with yours and pulling you in the direction of the front doors.

"We have nurse passes and then ISS."

"The school can kiss my ass. No doubt she's not done patching up the airhead jocks."

You continue to trail behind Eddie, glancing every couple of seconds to see if the doors will open again. "They're going to go to the ISS room and we're not going to be there."

"I'll call up to the nurse's office. She'll get our work."

"Don't tell me you used the Munson boyish charm on Mrs. Yeates. Poor sweet Yeates subjected to your wilds is unfair. Her late husband's been dead longer than we've been alive."

Eddie snorts at your taunts. "She's one of the few people left at this school that gives a shit about me. She scratches my back, I scratch hers."

"That--but not like that that, you know?"

"Mrs. Yeates very occasionally buys, most of the time I help her out with stuff around the office or her house."

"The school nurse?" you whisper, finding your keys in your pocket. You're thankful now that they didn't fall out or get trashed in the fight. "Buys? From you?"

"She tips well too," Eddie laughs. "Meet me at my place. You can still see, right?"

You nod. "Yeah, but I should be asking you that?"

"If you see Hopper just floor it. The man loves a good speed chase."

You're not shocked that Eddie would know that. So you leave it be and settle yourself in the driver seat before following Eddie out of the parking school lot.

At his trailer, Eddie hoists you up onto the counter. And it's less he does it all himself, you help, but when he pats the side of the sink, hands running under the water, you slip up onto it and his hands hover to make sure you don't fall.

He's gentle as he dabs off the dried blood. His warning that the cleanser is going to sting comes from softly in his chest and you grip the edge of the counter to keep from jerking away too much at the sting. It's soothed by Eddie's hand along your thigh. "You did good," he praises, flipping through the content of the first aid kit.

He fishes out the ointment, finding q-tips to apply it. The cut on your cheek is cleansed and bandaged too before Eddie works on himself in his reflection. All the while you sit and watch. His eye doesn't look nearly as bad as Josh's but it still doesn't look great. You slip down as Eddie moves to get his cuts bandaged up to find the frozen peas you know are still probably haunting the freezer for these exact purposes. Your knuckles are in great shape, but they'll be okay.

You return to the bathroom to hand the bag over to Eddie. "For your eye," you tell him.

Eddie laughs. "I can't exactly suck you off and hold a bag of peas to my face at the same time."

The brashness catches you off guard, your mouth hanging open like a fish for a moment. "What-what are you talking about?"

Eddie hooks a finger into the collar of your shirt bringing your chest firmly against his. "You have been a goddamn tease this entire week. New cologne."

"It's actually old. I only wear it fancy occasions." That isn't a lie, but it's not fully true either.

"Tight jeans."

"I-I hadn't done laundry yet." Absolutely that one is a lie, but those jeans are usually reserved for the bottom of the barrel for that specific reason. It does help that you had a feeling the outline of your bulge would set Eddie off.

"A button up that wasn't even worthy of the title of shirt considering how many buttons you had undone."

"It gets hot in the school," you defend. And that is true. Once the heat is turned on in the school, it is on and it is boiling hot.

"Rings," Eddie continues to list off.

"Okay, that was on purpose." You'll concede that point but not the others as you enjoy the way Eddie walks you out of the bathroom, pausing to get the peas back into the freezer and then continuing back to his room.

"And that goddamn tight muscle t-shirt Tuesday night."

"The bar gets stuffy, Eds." Another piece of the truth tainted in a tiny bit of a lie. You wouldn't be oblivious to the fact that the muscle tee did show off your biceps and you would, and did, use that to your advantage.

Eddie brings you, not by dragging but by stalking so you walk backwards throughout the trailer to his bedroom, kicking the door close with his foot. "Over my dead body," Eddie laughs. He closes in, like he wants to kiss you but he knows it's going to cause too much pain.

"On the bed. Now."

You debate only for a moment what you're going to do but then turn and walk to the edge of his bed before you sit. The last thing you're going to do is deny him or yourself the pleasure of this experience. Though you weren't sure how far it would or could go given your injuries, you'd take the risk of pushing the envelope.

Eddie crouches down into your space, nose gently bumping over yours. "You had and go get punched, which means in order to spare your pain I can't kiss you properly."

"I didn't ask for it," you retort, intent on keeping the story line straight. Jason had started it but you'd finish it.

"I know. I just need to know though. What will you ask for?" The question is paired with Eddie's hands tugging your shirt up and out of your tucked in jeans.

"You." It's one word that falls from your chest in a whisper but it carries with it everything.

Eddie makes quick work of your t-shirt, discarding it haphazardly to the floor. His fingers skate down your chest, teasing your nipple and you hitch up, a groan knocking at your chest at the sensation. You can feel a throbbing--now the dull ache of your sore face and hard cock mingling together as Eddie disrobes you. His touch is gentle and sure, but his pace is quick. He is tender but he is not wasting time.

You reach out for his bicep as you pushes you back further up on the bed, dull fingernails digging into the flesh and muscle. Eddie laughs at the way you moan out his name. It sounds like music, but Eddie finds glee in the way you melt for him.

"I would apologize for how hasty this is, but I think you're too blissed out to even care," Eddie whispers into the skin of your neck.

"I-" you swallow down part of the moan that works up your throat at the suckle of Eddie's plumps lips. "Fuck, I really don't care."

"Figured as much," Eddie laughs. He kisses down your chest, working your jeans and boxers down too. The sight of you, hard and leaking onto your own stomach makes Eddie's mouth salivate and his own cock to twitch in his pants. "Fuck," he whispers before taking you into his mouth.

You throw your head back, and the throbbing that he'd pushed aside for the moment comes rushing back again so you angle your head down again and huff as the work of Eddie's tongue over you. His free hand keeps tight on your pelvis, pressing you down into the mattress as everything in you wants to rut up into the warmth of his mouth. his spongy tongue runs along the underside of your cock and it makes you see stars.

It's lewd--the sounds Eddie ms making but you don't care as you join in, your groans bursting from your chest. You're not going to last long, not with the way Eddie's tongue and hand are working over you.

You teeter right on the edge before Eddie pulls away firmly. "You fucker," you huff, the last tense edge of your impending orgasm floating away.

"I want to watch you when you cum," he states. It's even and measured no hesitation or uncertainty.

Eddie spits into his hand before grasping you again and he watches, every twitch of your face, every time your jaw goes slack--Eddie watches it all and the blinding edge comes back. You can feel it in your toes.

"Shit." It's all you can muster and his name falls broken just behind it.

"That's it," Eddie encourages. "That's what I want," he smiles, when the first hot spurt hits his hand. "Give me all you've got."

His hand keeps an steady stroke over you and you don't have any air to tell Eddie you can't come anymore, that you have given everything and then he lets go and you think you've plummeted back into the stratosphere all the way down back to Eddie's bed.

The frame creaks and then something warm and soft is against you. You realize now, probably a cloth to clean up the mess you've made. It's not until Eddie returns to the bed, how he brings your naked chest up into his chest--now stripped over the t-shirt he'd put on this morning--that you start to regather your thoughts again.

"Give me five and you're next," you mutter into his chest.

"I'll give you ten so I can ice my eye."

"Sounds perfect."

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x male reader #eddie munso x reader #h writes #stranger things

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yanzers-infodump · 1 year

Photo

Sha, or Shamel. Eighth born and youngest of the original Derula. Sole parent to Sahmel (SlenderMan), Edamel (TrenderMan), and Fenmil (SplendorMan).

Derula rarely bare their teeth at one another. Doing it is basically like pulling a knife on someone. So they tend to keep their mouths closed and teeth mostly retracted so as not to unintentionally flash them. Here, though, you can see that Sha has his mouth ripped open and teeth on full display. They’re quite sharp too. As for how large they can make them, it’s kinda unclear (loose canon stuff) but for the most part Derula have six sets of canines in the top row and four on the bottom. Their other teeth are still fairly sharp, although they aren’t all fang shaped.

Naturally, the operator symbol has been worked into being the “family” symbol (cause i’m a basic bitch idk lol). In this case, it’s more a rune or seal which can summon one of the family if imbued with the correct magics. Sha, having no skin blemishes on his face, is a representation of that symbol. That’s not to say the other seven original Derula have facial blemishes, but more so that Sha just chose the most simple way of representing himself and the beginning of his line when he made the rune. (and yes, he was annoyed when his youngest created, Fenmil (Splendor to us) happened to emerge with eye like blemishes. Even more pissed to learn how pacifistic Splendor turned out to be).

I feel like i’m finally getting back into the swing of things with drawing, but it still pisses me off that i’m not better at anatomy stuff (despite the fact i’ve never really done it seriously and should allow myself a learner’s permit when it comes to basic mistakes). It’s especially frustrating floundering around trying to develop more of my own style and wanting it to be detailed yet still simple, but always either going too far one way or the other and never being happy regardless how “good” other people seem to think it is ^^;

So far, knowing i’m going to attach informational/lore blurbs to these has kinda helped in motivating me to draw them, but i’m always smashing my head through a wall just to start the damn idea and more often than not my skull cracks before a dent is made in the wall. Here’s hoping i can keep what little positive vibes i currently have going for me that’s dragging me through making anything at all.

#SlenderMan #slender man #Splendorman #Trenderman #Derula #Tallones #lore dump #fanfiction #fan fiction #Inverted #monster design #monster #art #digital art #shamel #sha #SlenderFather

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nitannichionne · 8 months

Text

Ransom's Redemption (Chris Evans Fanfiction), Chapter 22: Drinks & Dinner & Drinks (Ransom POV)

I am greeted by Callida and some other woman for dinner. The "dinner meeting" seems legit with her there, but the other woman is definitely for Paul's entertainment. We did discuss where to take pictures in the place, it was a photogenic site, and in winter, that's something. The pretty blonde named Rubia Fresa, which means "strawberry blonde" in Spanish. Her natural auburn streaks attested to her Scottish-Spanish descent, and she was pretty and young, just Paul's type. Rubia was nice enough, though, and could even keep up a conversation.

I missed Mimi, hints of wildflowers when she moved, how she strokes my back when I talk, and how when she is tired, she doesn't complain, she just puts her head on my shoulder and sighs. And when she wears those little nighties...

"Ran."

"Huh?"

"I asked if you wanted to start at the Design Lounge," Paul says, leaning forward. "All that red velvet, got that kind of sensual, mysterious feel to it."

"Yeah, I saw it on the website, looks good."

"We got night work and day work," she says. "I don't know about you, but I wanna get home."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," I chuckle. "I hated leaving Mimi."

"Oh, that's right- you're married."

"Yeah."

"You two are still newlyweds, huh?"

"And with a baby on the way."

"Oh my God!" she hugs me. "Congrats!"

"Thanks," I smile.

Rubia sighs, "Wow, in love and married--"

"Yeah," Paul exhales, kissing her hand. "The town awaits, love." He rises. "Ready ?"

"Okay," she smiles brightly.

This leaves Callida and I alone, and we chuckle.

"Looking forward to tomorrow," she tells me.

"Yeah," I nod. "This money is going into the college fund."

"College fund?"

"Mimi's expecting," I tell her.

"Oh, my God!" she gasps and then hugs me. "Congratulations."

"Thanks," I smile.

"Planning the future?"

"We have two businesses, then I sell art and model here and there.'

"Busy." She is clearly impressed.

"Yeah, kinda," I shrug. "but it's worth it, can't wait for the end of probation."

"Paul told me about that."

"What did Paul tell you?"

"It's more of what I realized." She covers my hand with hers. "You're so happy," she gives a gentle smile. "And how you've really grown, Ransom. You've grown. I hope things work out with me and my boyfriend. He designs and makes furniture."

I smile at that. "Glad you're doing okay--" Suddenly the phone rings, and a melody plays. I smile.

"Oh, my God!" sha laughs.

"Yeah, we set each other's ringers," I shrug. "She won't tell me what the song is, and I know I've heard it before, but--" I laugh. "Hold on." I click on. "Hey, baby."

"Hi," Mimi says softly.

"Hey, how are you feeling?"

"I'm better," she sounds tired.

"Been hydrating, right?"

"Yeah, and I'm eating fine," she says softly. "I told you, I think the morning sickness is over."

My breath catches. She was dressed in a nice nightie before l left. Did she want me before I left? "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I think so," She sniffs.

I take a deep breath, and on my exhale, I feel...horny. I'd been trying to wait, I had, but I didn't realize how much I wanted it till now, and it hit me like a ton of bricks. "Aw, babe."

"THere is a storm coming."

"Yeah?"

She giggles at my tone. "It looks pretty bad."

"Does it?"

She laughs. "I'm serious!"

"So...I should try to get home as soon as possible."

"Yeah."

I check my weather app. "Shit!" The big blurb moving and swirling is definitely headed for the eastern seaboard. "Global warming." I turn to Callida. "We need to do this, like yesterday."

"What?" Callida frowns over my phone.

"Who's that?" Mimi asks.

"The model I'm working with," I answer. "Callida."

"Oh, my God," Callida looks concerned. "We both need to get out of here. Anton is in London, waiting for me. We are supposed to go to Italy so I can meet his parents!"

I give a low whistle. "Whoa."

"Ran, we gotta get out of here!"

"Baby, I'm still at the lounge with Callida," I tell her. "We gotta get a plan together."

"Oh."

I hear her tone. It wasn't good. "We're just catchin' up."

"Well, I'll leave you to it," she sighs.

"As soon as I get upstairs, I'll call, okay?"

"Okay," she says softly.

"Love you, baby."

"Love you, too."

We click off and I sigh.

"She okay?" Callida asks.

I sigh again and shake my head. "I don't know. Pregnancy hormones, I don't know."

"Paul said this was a marriage of convenience."

"What?!" I couldn't believe he said such a thing. "No, no, we are childhood sweethearts. We were each other's first kiss."

"Wow."

I call Paul.

"Hey, man, what's up?"

"We want to start early," I tell him. "We want to shoot from sunrise to sunset."

"What?!"

"There's a snowstorm coming and we need to get out of here tomorrow night."

"Aw...okay, hey, guess who's in town?"

"Who?"

"Fiona."

"Fiona?"

"Yeah, she just sold her grandparents' condo, put that real estate license to use," he says happily. "Huge profit, she's having a party there."

"Oh, okay."

"You comin'?"

"I am getting up tomorrow morning for a shoot, Paul!"

"C'mon, stop by, at least."

"Paul--"

"Can't you congratulate Fi?"

I exhale. Checkmate. "For a few minutes."

"See ya there, Ran!"

He clicks off and I exhale. "I gotta go to--"

"Seal the deal?" Callida finishes. "Thanks, Ran."

That told me I was on my own. Great.

I hail a cab and call Mimi as soon as I get in.

"Hey!" I hear the smile in her voice.

"Hey."

"You don't sound like you're back in your room."

"HEading to a party--"

"A party?"

"Fiona sold her grandparents penthouse by Times Square," I blurt. "Paul is there, and I'm hoping to get him to come back with me so we can shoot all day and I can be home--"

"Oh."

I close my eyes and try to stay calm. "Seriously, baby."

"Okay."

It's not ha-ha funny how her monosyllabic answers feel like paragraphs. "I'm doing this so I can come home before the storm--"

"Why not postpone it?"

"Deadline."

"I see." She is quiet. "Good luck, then."

"Thanks, love you."

"Love you."

@nuggsmum @messyinsomnimaniac @jencanbeyouryengeralt @sweetdreamsofgelato @@mary-ann84 @omgkatinka @the-soot-sprite @viking-raider @keanureevesisbae @henryobsessed @summersong69 @sunshine96love @michelehansel @thelastsock @tumblnewby @tenaciousneckpartypainter @rn7rocks @daydreamin83 @musicartmayheminmyheart @kaatelyynn-blog-blog@forallthebrokenheartedthings @alphacancrii @liquorlaughslove @designerwriterchic @tamychm @nikkilynn303 @circesgirl1 @xoxohannahlee @pixie88@fckdeusername @maan24 @kaatelyyynn @october505 @absentmindr @introvertedmouse @sassy-pelican @griscka75 @kebabgirl67 @its-carlerr

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #knives out #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale fluff

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rawrroarart · 2 years

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Hi everyone, semi-important update regarding this blog and why I don't post as often. I say semi because if you're just a casual looker of my blog, you can disregard this because nothing in my blog will change and I'll still be here.

But for the rest of you interested in reading more, I do have a lil potential treat at the end of this post, but it's a little long-winded to get to that point since I'm going to vent a little about my art. Though whether you read my ramble or not, you are free to claim the treat at the end (it's only a potential treat because it's based on if you even like it LOL). I'll be posting in the LWA tag, as I pretty much am a LWA blog, but I do apologize for clogging the place with something a bit unrelated, and this should be the last time I do it

Anyway if you're still reading let's get to it:

So obviously I've been dead in my blog and I hardly, if ever, post art. Now I guess it's normal to see something like this for blogs, as life gets in the way for most people and things just start to faze out. Circle of life or whatever. But truth to be told, I am still very much interested in drawing often, and as of late my life isn't even currently "in the way" that would prevent me from doing so. So why aren't I posting more frequently or even drawing at all if even on my own?

Drawing isn't fun.

That's really misleading, but let me clarify: I have too high of an expectation for myself, and with so many people watching, I get overwhelmed and even nauseous really about not churning out my absolute best All the Time. My situation obviously isn't unique or special or anything, and is of absolute no fault to you or anyone else following me. And I know, of course, no one is telling me to always churn out 100%, but it's the fear inside me to not disappoint even one of you, and I try to be a perfectionist and people-please all at once. Trying to draw like this isn't fun.

Aside from that, I also have huge issues regarding "spamming" people with my posts. This is a honestly stupid issue because no one is forced to follow me, and I know people are here because they want to be here, but I just can't help but feel bad when I post too frequently, especially combined with content that's subpar. Even this post alone I feel guilty about, since no one really "signed up" for a whole rant about inadequacy, but I figured it would be good for me especially for what treat I mentioned earlier.

These two issues together make up part of the whole sha-bang of my standstill. I get stressed if my content isn't up to standard and I get stressed if I post too often. So I just do nothing. And the more I do nothing the more stressed I get about having to be even better than the last time I've drawn, because it's obviously been so long that I must have improved on my own! (I haven't)

Anyway what does that bring us to? What is my attempt of a solution? Something obviously needs to happen to fix this, and I just want to have fun creating content again. So here's the "treat" that I mentioned earlier: I have a new art blog or should I say a doodle/scrap blog, and you are free to join me on my new journey.

How is this different from my current art blog, you ask? Well for one thing, it's going to be mainly for doodles, blurbs, anything I want really. The real kicker is that I also won't be tagging my posts (maybe occasionally if it's funny enough), so they shouldn't reach a bigger audience and spam the designated tags they would be in (like LWA). I can also more appropriately convince myself that, if you followed me, you especially are consenting to a bunch of posts (if I even post that much ha), and I'll also hold a soft spot for you LOL

You also don't have to follow me, as I'm sure a lot of my doodles will make their way to my art blog here, but in the form of one singular post labeled "doodle dump" or something. So no ones really "missing out" on anything. Following the new blog just gives you first access to whatevers going on with me

Note: I will still be posting art I put a lot of effort into on this blog!!

Of course this is all experimental, and it could all just go to shit, but I want to try to do something to get out of my slump. And before you ask "why can't you just draw without posting," it's because I thrive on validation also which is also why I get put in a standstill LOL. So yes please follow me if you'd like, I would be happy.

On another note, I'm also planning to purchase an ipad to actually have a better way of drawing, as my current digital art set up is really janky, laggy, and off-putting that it makes me not want to try either. But apple's art app looks so nice and seems perfect for me. I've set up my kofi to accept donations with a milestone if you wanted to lend a helping hand. It should be linked in my bio!

Anyway yea thanks for reading this far and supporting me. I'll do my best to keep producing content and improve my skills.

Tl;dr If you're here for the "treat," I have a new doodle blog but you consent to no thoughts head empty if you follow it. I'm also looking to buy an ipad sometime.

#lwa #i speak #yea long post but if you wanted to know next stages in my art learning process give it a read #lol i said i was gonna post in the lwa tag but i dont think it even shows up oh well #oh it did

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lunarwildrose · 2 years

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In the rain

I'm gonna paste from my blurb on this from the WIP I had posted for Steven's birthday a while back:

"So, we have Dr. Crow looming over Sha who sees him, and Steven who can’t see him. Sha thinks he’s part of her hallucinations related to her anxiety disorder (C-PTSD). There’s more to the Crow than that, however – but that would be spoilers for our webcomic (upcoming). Dr. Crow is a homage to my imaginary SO, Karasu from Yu Yu Hakusho. Sha is my self-insert original character, and the first of several I have thanks to being a roleplayer. Steven is my/her first boyfriend, initially based on Android 17 from DragonBall Z."

#Tealight Stories #personal #myart #art #original characters #Dr Crow #Tsubasa Hoshino #Eric Hoshino #inspired by #Karasu #Sha Pris Amaranth #Steven Gayle #originally inspireid by #Juunanagou #Android 17 #MQ the webcomic

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digitalgetdwn · 9 months

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A Quick Blurb about Hashing

Aside from the material in the last post, I thought it would be helpful to share a quick note about what I learned about hashing and hash values:

What is Hashing?

Hashing is the process of scrambling data/information beyond recognition.

Uses for hashing include: data/file integrity and password storage.

hash function: a set of mathematical operations to be carried out on two blocks of data

blocks divided into equal parts

irreversible by design

final digest must be consistent for the same input

3 Methods of Credential Storage:

Plain Text:

very easy to gather information

NO security

owners and web admin can see personal info

Encryption:

more secure than plain text

decryption keys are stored on the server

a hacked decryption key = all passwords are broken

Hashed Values:

will not reveal passwords in a breach

no encryption key needed

owners and web admin can't see personal information

hash algorithm- digest size

MD5- 128 bits

SHA-256- 256 bits

Hashing Guidelines:

Fast functions, NOT Instant

prevents exploitation

quick algorithm can be tested rigorously with a brute force attack

enough brute force attacks can crack the hash and the algorithm

Hash Digest must be dependent on each bit

if a single character changes, a substantial portion of the digest must change

helpful in creating as many unique hashes has possible

hash digest for 'cryptography' will differ from 'cryptograph'

Prevent Hash Collision

occurs when there are two exactly same hash/digests

same passwords have same digests after hashing

salting can help prevent collisions

Ways to Strengthen Hashes

salting: the process of adding a random keyword to the end of the input called salt/salt value

peppering: the process of adding the same random value at the end of a plaintext before passing through the hash function

in the event of a data breach, a pepper value is safe from exploitation

not stored on servers

Hashing and salt and pepper sounds like breakfast. (I'm posting this at 3:30am, send Waffle House)

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fictionfromafar · 1 year

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The Messenger by Megan Davis

THE MESSENGER

By Megan Davis

Zaffre Books

Publication Date: 30th March 2023

A CRIME HE DIDN’T COMMIT.

A TRUTH HE MUST DELIVER.

I was very intrigued to read The Messenger as not only did the book description suggest an exciting story and some topical issues but the book is also set in Paris when I spent two years in my own life at the turn of the Millennium. I can happily confirm that it more than lived up to my expectations.

Set over due timelines the story is told from the perspective of Alex, both as a teenager and in his mid twenties. The time between the two periods he has been spent incarcerated in a French jail for the apparent murder of his father. As the earlier narrative unfolds Alex is revealed to have been a child without a sense of home. Having been brought up in the United States before his father decided to move the family back to France, Alex packs both the language and social skills to be popular with his peers. When his parents separate his mother is physically and emotionally distant. Although Alex lives with his father, a journalist with a depending on alcohol, they are not particularly close. As the gap between them widens, Alex finds himself drawn into a friendship with a boy called Sami who lives on the streets by his wits.

While the circumstances of his father's demise and Alex's involvement in it emerges throughout the duration of the book, the story primarily focuses on Alex's attempts to find out what his father had been working on before his death. Alex is aware that a former colleague of his father died of an apparent suicide shortly before his own release from prison and Alex uses this as a staring place to try to get some answers.

The Messenger is a novel that explores a lot of issues including misinformation in the media, conspiracy theories and state sponsored manipulation. Yet it is also a story of a young man trying to find his way with a disfunctional family and tenuous and temporary friendships. I found that Davis uses the Parisian backdrop very effectively as the story switches from arrondissement to arrondissement and out to the banlieues. It gives a very strong and realistic sence of setting which is enhanced by discussing some very existentinal social problems within the French capital which I could identify well. Although The Messenger is somewhat lengthy, it is a highly impressive debut, a very rewarding novel with strong convincing themes and a very satisfying conclusion.

The blurb

Wealthy and privileged, Alex has an easy path to success in the Parisian elite. But he and his domineering father have never seen eye to eye. Desperate to escape the increasingly suffocating atmosphere of their apartment, Alex seeks freedom on the streets of Paris where his new-found friend Sami teaches him how to survive. But everything has a price - and one night of rebellion changes their lives forever.

A simple plan to steal money takes a sinister turn when Alex's father is found dead. Despite protesting their innocence, both boys are imprisoned for murder. Seven years later Alex is released from prison with a single purpose: to discover who really killed his father. Yet as he searches for answers and atones for the sins of his past, Alex uncovers a disturbing truth with far-reaching consequences.

In the heart of Paris, against a backdrop of corruption, fake news and civil unrest, The Messenger is a mind-racing new thriller that follows one son's journey to find redemption and expose the truth.

About the author

Megan Davis was born in Australia and grew up in mining towns across the world. She has worked in the film industry and her credits include Atonement, In Bruges, Pride and Prejudice and the Bourne films. Megan is also a lawyer and is currently an associate at Spotlight on Corruption. She has an MA in Creative Writing from the University of East Anglia. Her debut The Messenger won the Bridport Prize for a First Novel in 2018, judged by Kamila Shamsie, as well as the Lucy Cavendish Prize for unpublished writers in 2021. She has lived in many places, including France for a number of years, but now lives in London.

Many thanks to Zaffre Books for an advance copy of The Messenger and to Tracy Fenton at Cumpulsive Readers for inclusion on the blog tour. Please check out the other reviews of this book on the blog tour as shown below.

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alastrrz · 1 month

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HOLY SHIT

Alastor with a high energy reader! Like they are really high energy but they've crashed and now they won't get off the floor.

cuuteeee !!

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ﾟ。 energy crash ; alastor x reader

　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

genre/type: fluff, blurb

Alastor full well and knows that you have a ton of energy. Much more than him. He never gets a chance to do any of the cleaning or chores, because you already got to them. It confuses him how one little demon can have so much energy.

It was very surprising for him to find you crashed on the couch of the hotel lobby. He stood next to your peacefully sleeping body, "Oh, my dear. Did all of your energy finally catch up to you?" He grabbed your shoulder, transporting the both of you to his bedroom. He carried you to his bed, pulling the covers over you. "Get some proper rest, darling."

Whenever you awoke, you noticed you were definitely in a different place than when you fell asleep. "Where—" Alastor stood next to you as you woke up, "Ah, good morning my love!" You squeaked, "Ah! Fuck! Uh.. How long was I asleep?" He shrugged, "About 4 hours."

"Oh no! I didn't get to finish my cleaning.." He sighed, placing his cane in his lap as he sat next to you. "You don't always have to take on every task in the hotel, sha." He rubbed your shoulder, "You needed the rest."

#ashe's writing #sharkie.txt #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #alastor fluff #alastor comfort

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jasonli · 2 years

Photo

Images description (alt text) 👇🏼

1. So this landed in my inbox yesterday from Anansi Press. I like what they do but...

🫥😐🫥

Keep reading for why I won't be submitting to one of Canada's biggest indie publishers, how the industry be like that, and a stirring endorsement for #ownvoices 🧵

Screenshot of an email advertising a book called Finale by Ian Hamilton. The blurb below states: "The fourth and final instalment in Ian Hamilton’s exhilarating Ava Lee spin-off series The Lost Decades of Uncle Chow Tung."

2. The same author, Ian Hamilton, has also published novels with these titles:

🤨 The Wild Beasts of Wuhan 🤨 The King of Shanghai 🤨 The Dragon Head of Hong Kong 🤨 The Water Rat of Wan Chai 🤨 The Mountain Master of Sha Tin

These books were published starting in 2011.

3. In an interview, the author, a white man, states that "it is true that I use places I've visited, real experiences and people I've known."

About his female protagonist he says: "I was also fascinated by how powerful women are in Asia..."

4. A Hong Kong-born Canadian author, Kevin Chong, agrees... partially in this review 🙃

National Post review excerpt stating: As Ava collects Air Miles, Hamilton fills the book with passages of description that could double for Yelp.com or Tripadvisor.com reviews. In Thailand, the reader learns that Ava’s second favourite soup is tom yam kung “[after] Chinese hot and sour soup, which ranked as her uncontested favourite.” At the Phoenix Hotel in...

5. So I have a graphic novel project set in Hong Kong. I've thought about submitting it to Anansi Press in the past.

But I cannot bear to have my book placed on a shelf next to these other "Hong Kong" books. I'm not here to celebrate the colonial gaze.

6. I get it, the publisher industry is a tough business. Most books lose money while some of Hamilton's books made it onto Canadian bestseller lists at some point.

So I don't fault Anansi Press for publishing them. I still respect them for publishing a lot of good work.

But...

7. Do you know how I discovered this series of books in the first place? I clicked the LGBTQ+ Stories tab on the Anansi Press website.

That's right — the protagonist for these stories is a Canadian-Chinese, lesbian woman accountant.

8. Is Hamilton is queer or Canadian-Chinese? Is it possible he's representing one of his non-public facing identities?

Then I read this interview with him on The Star, where he quotes his wife.

I could not ask for a better #ownvoices endorsement The Star interview excerpt stating: “When I started I said, ‘I’ve got this idea for a book about a female, lesbian accountant who’s Chinese-Canadian.’ My wife said, ‘You know, I have heard that you should write about things you know.’” Hamilton might not be a petite, athletic, mid-30s lesbian of Asian descent,

9. A friend said I need to add images of the orientalizing covers so:

Book cover of a woman silhouette in front of an ink drawing of a rat on top of a bright red background. Text says: An Ava Lee novel: Water Rat of Wanchai, Ian Hamilton.

#canada #canlit #colonialism #omg #tweets #books

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shawnmessages · 5 years

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Unknown pt.2

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marsmingi · 5 years

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[ 11:46 am] hyunggu hadnt told you where you were going but he was busy running around the house collecting things all morning and putting them in the car.

"ggu~~" you whined as he zoomed past you again.

"get ready babe we are gonna leave soon!" he yells back at you, entering the garage once again.

"cant you just tell me where we are going?" you pleaded once he entered the house again.

"nooo bc that would take the fun out of it" he laughs and places a light kiss on your cheek as he walked by.

—

"hey baby we are here" hyunggu cooes as he lightly shakes your thigh. sleep got the best of you, so with your head leant against the car window, you dozed off waiting until you finally reached wherever hyunggu was taking you.

your eyes flickered open to reveal a large open field. just over the horizon you could see a small pond and a few trees.

"oh god where did you take me" you asked hyunggu in suspicion of the empty landscape.

"we are going on a picnic!! lets go!" he exclaims as he hopped out of the car and headed toward the trunk; you following suit. he pulled out a large basket and you laughed.

"is this what youve been doing all morning"

"yup" he says and he smiles up at you, raising his hand into your view, hinting for you to hold it. you smiled at his antics and intertwinded your fingers, heading into the field.

after enjoying some of hyunggu's home cooked meals you both decided to lie down for a nap. he laid on his side, arm folded under his head as you did the same. you sat like that in silence, only the sound of birds and the soft hum of the wind passed through your hearing. he slowly raised his hand to your cheek to rub against the soft skin. with a hand still remaining on your cheek, he pulled you closer into his chest, placed a lingering kiss to your forehead and mumbling a soft 'i love you' into your hair.

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harrywritingsbyme · 4 years

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ok but what about harry being so big and ur a virgin (or haven’t been w anyone for a while) and he’s trying to get you as relaxed as possible so he can fit in but u guys keep trying and it just won’t fit bc ur rly tight. but harry isn’t giving up and he’s just being a sweetheart. but then he finally pushes in all the way for the first time and he’s super turned on by seeing his print thru ur stomach and becomes super cocky bc you take him so well and you’re his angel who now looks freshly fucked

The one Where Harry and Y/n Try to Make It Fit

A/N: All I have to say is that it’s filthy and it’s the second blurb for ‘A Series Of Firsts’ Enjoy 🙃

You haven’t been with anyone for a really long time. And it was for two reasons. The first being that you hadn’t been in a relationship where you really wanted to have sex, and the second being that you were fine taking care of yourself (and you would like to think that you were pretty good at it). You were perfectly fine up until now. And by now, you meant Harry.

From the time you met Harry to now being in a relationship together, it was like a switch went off inside of you. There was something about simply being in his presence that lit an insatiable fire inside of you. You couldn’t explain it, but even the slightest touch got your blood pumping. You two had been together for a little over six months at this point and you couldn’t go any longer without having Harry deep inside of you. Harry’s mouth and fingers always did wonders for you, better than you could have ever done for yourself. He always knew exactly what buttons to press and how to make you fall apart instantly for him. It didn’t matter if it was his tongue or fingers, Harry always made you cum hard. And as good as he never failed to make you feel, you wanted more. You wanted to be filled to the brim with his cock, and you wanted to feel his hips crashing down against yours as he pushes himself in and out of you. You knew exactly what you wanted and you didn’t know how long you could go without getting it.

This desperate need for Harry led you to the position you were in now. Lying naked beneath an also naked Harry. It was supposed to be a cozy and romantic night in for you two, but after a couple drinks and many kisses in between the two of you went from simply kissing to ripping each others clothes off. When you whispered to Harry that you wanted to have sex, things got even more heated. His mission to get you naked only intensified and his lips were pressed harder against yours. Once the sex part actually came though, the mood instantly changed. Harry’s movements became much less frenzied, and more languid and soft. There was no doubt that he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. It was just that he wanted it to be a moment for the both of you, and your relationship as a whole. Even though neither of you were virgins, the both of you were strong in your feelings for each other and you wanted the first time you had sex together to be special. Another thing Harry made sure to take into account was the fact that you hadn’t had sex in a while and it’d take a little more adjusting than normal. So, Harry was going to take his time and make sure that you were comfortable above anything else.

“I just need y’to relax f’me baby” Harry coaxes. He knew that you were tight, but this was unbelievable. Every time he went to push into you, you always winced a little bit.

“I am, you’re just really big.” You point out. You took Harry in your mouth before, so you were well versed in how sizable Harry was. You had no idea how big he was when it came to other parts of your body though. Whenever he tried to push into you, it felt like he was piercing into you. You’d never taken anything or anyone that could compare to how big Harry was. “M’surprised you haven’t killed anyone with that thing.” you continue.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Harry chuckles before sitting back on his calves between your spread legs. “If y’want we can stop. Don’t wanna actually kill yeh.” Harry rakes his hand through his hair, pushing back the curls that were sticking to his forehead.

“No!” You sit up, resining back against your elbows. “If you don’t fit one more time then we can stop.” You bargain.

“Y/n, I don’t wanna force it. I don’t want you t’be-“ Before he can finish his statement, you reach forward towards him, and you grab his hand. You pull it towards your glistening center and you place it right on you.

“Please?” You pout, making sure to bat your eyes up at him. Harry doesn’t respond immediately. His eyes fall down towards where you placed his hand and he begins to move his hand against you. When he hears a small whimper leave your lips, he couldn’t stop his cock from twitching. “So is that a yes?” You ask him once more. Instead of responding, Harry lifts himself back up and brings himself back down towards you.

“Forget me killin’ you, y’gonna kill me first.” Harry mumbles under his breath. He wraps his hand around his cock, giving himself a few tugs. “Y’ready?” He asks, looking up to you for an answer. You nod your head before dropping it back down against the pillows. Harry gives you a final reassuring look before moving his eyes back down. He lines himself back up with your entrance and he takes a deep breath. “Relax f’me babe.” He instructs before slowly beginning to push into you.

“Oh my god!” You whimper out. You could feel him stretching you out completely. You felt so full from him simply pushing the head of his cock into you that you didn’t know how much more you could take. Once he’s all the way inside of you, Harry had to take a minuet. He couldn’t believe that you managed to take all of him inside of your tight hole. Just saying that you were tight would be a complete understatement. You were so tight that he felt like he could cum right then and there. As his eyes moved up your body back to yours, he immediately gets stopped in his tracks. He could clearly see his cock trough your lower stomach.

“Y’need t’feel this.” Harry groans. He reaches for your hand and he presses it down right agains the prominent bump in your lower stomach.

“Is that-“

“Mhm” Harry grumbles.

“That’s just-“ you couldn’t even make out anything else. The only words you were able to say were the ones telling Harry to fuck you. And when he did, it was better than any feeling either of you had ever felt.

Harry couldn’t believe how well you were taking him. Not to mention the fact that he couldn’t get over how undeniably pretty you looked beneath him. The sounds that were leaving your mouth were like music to his ears. Hearing you slur out how big and deep he was only fueled his fire. What made him even closer to to the edge was what you managed to get out through you moans and whimpers. The way Harry was taking care of you was beyond compare. He touched you softly as if you were made of porcelain. You loved the way he put your pleasure ahead of his own, but you wanted to see his rough side. You saw a little bit of it earlier, but you knew there was so much more. When you told him to go harder, his moments against you stopped and he looked you right in the eye. He could see from the look in your eyes that him slamming his cock into you was non-negotiable. Since you wanted this, he was going to make sure you got it. He pulls almost all the way out of you before crashing his hips back down against yours, sending a loud slapping sound throughout the room.

“Harry!” You cry out to him. You wanted to feel the slight sting of him pounding into you, shoving his cock deep inside of you over and over again. You could feel the prominent veins that were on his thick shaft gliding against your walls. You could also feel the swollen head of his cock, slamming into that special spot deep inside of you over and over again. The way harry was pounding into you exceeded any expectations you had going in. The way he swiftly slammed his cock into you over and over again was amazing. It was so amazing that you could feel your eyes beginning to water.

Right now, Harry’s head was spinning faster than he could even process it. You were making him feel things he’d never felt before. It was like your walls were begging him to keep on fucking into you. You were doing so well for him that he wanted to just stay inside of you forever. Harry was even starting to get a little bit lightheaded. He couldn’t hold himself up for that much longer, so he lays himself down against your body. As a result, your body is completely pinned down against the mattress and all you could do was take every last thrust he gave you. You wrap your legs loosely around his back to keep him tight against you and you dig your nails into his biceps. You could already feel him going deep in your stomach, him laying on you only made you feel it ten times as much. It also meant that Harry could feel it against him too. On top of that, he got to hear the way you were crying and panting out to him at how good he felt inside of you even better, and was like music to his ears. He knew that he wasn’t going to last that much longer, all he had to do now was focus on making you cum. He stays in this position for a little bit longer until he feels you beginning to clenching around him. He pulls himself up from your body and he brings a hand up to your chest, squeezing one of your breasts in his large hand.

“Look so beautiful with m’cock buried inside yeh.” Harry pants above you, continuing to shove his cock into your tight cunt. “Where do y’want m’cum angel?” He asks, feeling his release quickly creeping up to him.

“Inside” you slur out to him.

“Fuck” he whispers. You’ve been blowing his mind the entire night. The fact that you wanted him to cum inside of you too, painting your walls white with his cum was just the icing on top of the cake. “m’gonna need yeh t’cum with me then” Harry demands, slowing down his hips.

“M’so close” you whimper.

“Y’can do it angel, just let go f’me” Harry coos. When your cries get louder and shakier, he knows that you’re about to cum. Your thighs begin to quiver below him and you could feel the tight knot in our stomach beginning to unravel. “Look a’me angel. Let me see those pretty eyes” he softly coos to you. You slowly but surely open your eyes for him and he can see the tears from pleasure pooling at the outer corners of your eyes. He pushes his hips up against yours, keeping his cock deep inside of you. When he does this, you completely let go around him. You let out the loudest cry you’ve made all night as you cum around him. The tears run down the side of your face and you stare into Harry’s eyes as you cum around his cock.

Feeling your already extremely tight walls contracting around his cock made Harry cum too. You feel a warm rope of his cum pour into the deepest part of you. Once the both of you are done, Harry begins to pull out of you.

“Squeeze my hand baby, it might sting a little.” Harry warns, intertwining his fingers with yours. And he was right. He made sure to go extra slow, giving you small reassurances along the way. Once he’s fully out of you, Harry couldn’t help but sit back and stare. He couldn’t believe how pretty you looked right after being fucked. You skin had a light veil of sweat and your body was almost, if not completely limp. When he looks down to your pussy, he can see his cum dripping out of you and right onto the sheets. The way your stomach was contracting as you were trying to catch your breath, reminded him of how his cock went all the way up there. Subconsciously, Harry’s hand reaches out towards the area, and the palm of his hand presses into the area. He realizes what he’s doing when you place your hand onto of his.

“You were so deep.” You slur out to him. You have a blissful smile painted across your face at the thought.

“ And being the pretty little angel you are, you took it all so well.” He praises.

“Mhm, just for you” you sigh. Harry then brings his face down to yours and slots his lips against yours, lazily kissing you. “Y’ready f’me to clean yeh up?” He mumbles against your lips. You send him a small nod and he gets up off of the bed to take you to the bathroom.

When you sit up, you see him standing next to the bed, looking over your body once more. When you give him puzzled look, he explains exactly why he’s looking at you this way.

“S’just that you’re my sweet angel, and y’look so pretty when you’re freshly fucked.” Harry explains.

Masterlist

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