#it all started with the suggestion to draw the zipper… | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ariestrxsh · 3 months ago

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pervy!bsf!chris x bsf!reader

🂡 content warning: smut, stripping, oral (m!receiving), face fucking, fingering, praise but also chris is kind of condescending (in a hot way)

🂡 summary: while the two of you are playing cards to pass the time, chris suggests a game of strip poker

dividers by @/kodaswrld

Poker Face

"Alright, Chris. You deal," you told the boy who was sitting on the wooden floor across from you as you stacked your poker chips. "Sure. I was thinking we could raise the stakes this time. You know, make it a little more fun," Chris suggested, a mischevious smirk starting in the corner of his mouth as he skillfully shuffled the cards.

"How much money are we talking?" You wondered, tipping your head to the side, intrigued to hear what he was going to suggest. "I was thinking something a little more high risk than money," Chris replied, his gaze flickering up at yours. He had your attention now. You gave him an inquisitive look, your eyes narrowing. "I'm listening."

"What about articles of clothing?" Chris asked, his voice thick with lust as his eyes flitted over the curves of you body, imagining what you looked like underneath all that restrictive fabric. "Are you suggesting a game of strip poker right now?" You wondered, returning his seductive gaze.

"So what if I am? Are you down?" Chris casually asked, straightening out the deck. "Sure. How are we playing?" You raised an eyebrow at him, intrigued by the idea. "Five card draw. One chip represents one item of clothing. First person to take off every item of clothing is the loser," he replied, looking you up and down.

"Yeah? What does the loser have to do?" You wondered, your imagination running wild with sinful thoughts about your best friend. "We'll figure it out along the way," Chris smirked, dealing you each a hand.

Once all five cards were facedown in front of you, you snuck a peak at them, keeping your face as straight as possible when you realized you were two cards away from four of a kind. You held your hand close to your chest, rearranging your cards to have your two tens next to each other.

Chris sat across from you with a shit-eating grin on his face, indicating to you that he must have been dealt a good hand. Fuck, you silently thought. Chris pushed a poker chip towards you, and you followed suit, moving a chip across the floor between the two of you.

You discarded three cards, and Chris discarded two, and then he dealt you each back the amount of cards you'd gotten rid of. A feeling of relief washed over you when you turned over your cards, realizing the ten of spades and ten of diamonds had appeared. You revealed your hand, placing your four tens out in front of you.

"Lose the hoodie," you gloated, a smug smile creeping into your expression. "You first," Chris smirked back, laying down his cards. Straight flush. You scoffed, giving the boy across from you an annoyed look. Chris' eyes followed your zipper as you started to remove your jacket. You lazily tossed it off to the side, and you both returned your cards to the deck.

You began to shuffle this time, dealing five cards to yourself and five to Chris. You each pushed a red and a black chip to the middle, eyes locked on one another before you both picked up your cards and examined them.

After a few rounds of exchanging the cards you didn't want for hopefully better ones, you and Chris both revealed your hands to one another. Chris rolled his eyes after glancing over at your cards that beat his by a landslide. He unzipped his cheetah print hoodie, groaning as he discarded it, and he began to shuffle the cards again.

The next round was much shorter, Chris being dealt a nearly perfect hand on the initial deal. Unlike you, Chris was unable to hide his satisfaction whenever he knew he was in the lead. It was something that annoyed you about him - his arrogance. But as he watched you slip out of your tight black t-shirt with that sly smirk plastered to his face, you found his arrogance kind of hot.

The two of you were onto the fourth round now, waiting to see who would be shedding their next layer. You shuffled the cards and dealt them. The whole time Chris' stare was locked onto your breasts that were perfectly on display in your red lace push up bra.

You each bet another article of clothing, slowly pushing your poker chips across the hardwood floor to the middle. The hand you were dealt was unlucky again, and you did your best to hold back an aggravated sigh as you exchanged four of your five cards, the second hand being just as unlucky. Chris smiled as he laid down his full house with a chuckle.

"Take off the bra," he ordered you, his eyes twinkling with lust. You had planned to take off your pants next, because for some reason, it felt less vulnerable to be sitting there in a bra and panties than being completely shirtless with jeans on, but there was something about the way that Chris said it that made you want to listen to him.

You dumbly nodded and reached around to unhook your bra. Chris bit down on his lip as he watched your bra fall to the floor. "Let's sweeten the pot a bit, shall we?" Chris murmured, staring at your bare breasts. "I'm listening," You replied, crossing your arms over your chest.

"What if the loser has to give the winner head?" Chris asked, wetting his pink lips as he shuffled the deck. "Chris, I'm already half naked," you said, widening your eyes at him. "So what? You could still win," he remarked in a seductive tone, sticking his tongue out and making a suggestive motion with it.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't deny that you found the idea of either getting head from him or giving head to him kind of hot. You peered down at your hand after Chris had dealt them. One card away from a straight flush. "Fine," you replied, staring at Chris' long, slender fingers and wondering how they were going to feel inside of you once you won the game.

After betting your next item of clothing and exchanging your card for the one you'd been waiting for, you revealed your hand to Chris. "Ha!" You gloated. "Pffft. So you got lucky," Chris responded, tossing his cards back to the center as he pulled his shirt off his body. You had a pretty solid poker face when it came to card games but when your eyes scanned the shirtless man sitting across from you, you couldn't hide how badly you wanted him.

You shuffled the deck and dealt the cards. With a trembling hand, you pushed a poker chip to the center, betting your second to last item of clothing. You peered down at your cards, dropping your poker face once you saw the hand you were working with. A ten, jack, queen, king, and ace, all in various suits, but a high hand nonetheless.

"I'd like to raise you one article of clothing," you smugly told him, confidently pushing another poker chip to the center. "Fine," Chris said, trying his best to conceal his own smirk. "Get naked, Chris. I think it's about time you find another use for your mouth besides running it," you demanded, laying down your cards as your eyes flicked up at his.

Chris let out a mean chuckle, laying his cards down in front of him. Royal flush. All in the suit of spades. A shiver ran down your spine. "Fuck," you mumbled under your breath as your heart sank, still in utter disbelief that Chris had beat you when you had the second highest hand in poker.

"C'mon. A bet's a bet," Chris cooed, his hungry eyes dancing over your body, awaiting the moment you show him the rest of you. You slowly unbuttoned and unzipped your jeans, building anticipation. You lifted your hips and pulled your pants down until you were in nothing but your bright red panties that matched your lace bra.

Chris admired your body, his pupils dilating and blood rushing below his waist. You took a deep breath before you started sliding your underwear down your thighs, keeping your knees shut as you pulled them off. He raised his eyebrow at you and gave you a subtle look that told you that you knew what he wanted and he knew you were gonna give it to him.

You slowly parted your legs to bare your quivering pussy to him. "So pretty," he whispered, studying your glistening folds and your drooling hole. There was a jolt of excitement coursing through you at the way you were putting yourself on display for your best friend who had had only ever seen you like this in his imagination.

"C'mere," Chris responded, his eyes darkening as he motioned to you with his long, slender finger. You crawled across the hardwood floor over to him while his other hand found its way to his belt, the clanking of his metal buckle sounded as he smirked at you.

His cock sprung out of his boxers as he slowly pulled down his jeans, your eyed widening. You positioned yourself between his legs. He wrapped his fingers around his thick shaft and placed his other hand on the back of your head, guiding the tip of his cock towards your mouth.

"Open up," he said in a condescending tone as if you didn't know what to do next, but you secretly loved the way he spoke down to you. You slowly nodded and opened your mouth, inviting him in. Chris smiled down at you as he slapped it against your tongue, sending waves of pleasure through his cock.

You reached up and grabbed ahold of his staff, gently moving you hand back and forth. "Fuck," he moaned loudly as you buried the tip behind your lips, swirling your tongue around on it as precum began to bubble up at his slit. He began to sweep the stray strands of hair out of your face as you began to bob up and down on his length.

"That's it, sweet girl," the blue-eyed boy praised you as he screwed his eyes shut and tipped back his head. He tightly gripped ahold of a fistful of your hair, using it to guide your motions as you lightly gagged on him. "Oh, is it too much for you?" Chris purred in a sweet but patronizing voice with his gaze locked on yours.

Your eyes started to well with tears as he rammed the tip into the back of your throat, but your ego wouldn't let you fold. You couldn't bare the humiliation of having to stop because you couldn't handle it. You were determined to take it all however he wanted you to, so you shook your head.

"Good girl. You can take it," Chris encouraged you, running his fingers through your now messy hair as he yanked you around. You peered up at him through your blurry vision, taking in how divine he looked, pleasure and pure bliss inscribed in his expression as he stared down at you with his lustful eyes and his parted lips. His tongue darted out and wet them before he bit back another moan.

"You know what would make this even better?" He asked, pulling his cock from behind your lips as he peered down at you, desire burning him from the inside out. "Hmm?" You asked, eager to hear his idea. You liked all his other ideas he had so far tonight.

His suggestion led the two of you to his bedroom, and that's how you ended up lying completely naked on his bed with your head hanging off the side of the mattress as Chris stood over you, driving his cock even further down your throat than before.

You could feel all the blood rushing to your face as you held yourself in this position, your gagging becoming more intense as you drooled all over his cock. He reached for your sopping wet cunt, exploring your folds with his curious fingers and rubbing your clit.

"You're so wet," he whispered, starting to fuck your face at a rougher pace, watching the imprint of his cock sliding in and out of your throat with your exposed neck facing up at him. He slipped two of his digits into your hole, curling them as he fucked you with them. He placed him thumb on your clit and started massaging it in circles. He loved the way you writhed around beneath him, your body responding to every caress.

You slobbered all over his length, your whimpers stifled by his cock that was currently occupying your mouth. He tipped his head back again, savoring every moment of getting head from you. He snapped his hips forward, pistoning his rod into your mouth with even more vigor as you choked on him.

"Fuck. You take me so well," he breathlessly said, nearing the edge as he kept the rhythm of his body steady. Your legs started to tremble as he fingered you, hitting your gspot with every thrust. You came undone, your walls contracting around his digits as you let out a few final moans. Your lips vibrating against his length created a domino effect, his climax hitting shortly after yours.

His knees grew weak as he finished onto your tongue, his cock pulsing inside of your mouth. Your name and a slew of profanities poured from his pink, pouty lips as his thrusts slowed to a stop. "Fuck. You're so good at that," he complimented you, pulling his dick out from behind your lips with a subtle pop.

You'd always secretly wondered if Chris was rough in bed, what kinds of things he'd say to you in the throes of ecstasy, and how he would sound moaning your name. He'd wondered the same things about you, how much of his cock you could take while giving him head and what you'd sound like choking on it. It was nice for each of you to have your sick curiosity about your best friend satisfied.

"We should play that more often, don't you think?" Chris asked with a smirk playing on his lip as he tucked himself back into his jeans and fastened his belt.

#sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo #dom chris sturniolo #ᴀʀɪᴇꜱ' ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ .ᐟ ✮⋆˙#ᴄʜʀɪꜱ ��ɴᴇ ꜱʜᴏᴛ .ᐟ ✮⋆˙

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midnight-shadow-cafe · 1 month ago

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My hands are tied, I have to ask for more Ghost family! It's a need not a want

What do we think about Simon and the 141 being on leave after a particularly long mission and Tommy is in football (us soccer ) and has a match and made little crayon invitations for the each member if the team, inviting him to his game

And maybe they go get dinner afterwords? And celebrate? Win or lose?

His Whole World

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, emotional softness, child/family content, swearing (from the adults), suggestive content and soft smut (MDNI 18+), mild language, hurt/comfort themes, domestic sweetness

Author's Note: You asked for more Ghost Family—and I gladly deliver. I hope you enjoy this little life of theirs!

Summary: While on leave, Simon and the 141 attend Tommy’s football match after receiving adorable crayon-drawn invitations. What follows is a celebration full of laughter, love, and a quiet night where Simon gets to hold his whole world in his hands.

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

It started with a stack of brightly colored paper, three boxes of crayons, and Tommy sitting at the kitchen table with his tongue poked out in concentration.

You'd glanced over while washing dishes, catching him drawing lopsided smiley faces and scribbling stick figures in what he insisted were team uniforms. Little soccer balls dotted each corner, and each card was signed in big, clumsy letters:

To: Uncle Soap

To: Uncle Gaz

To: Grandpa Price

“Baby,” you smiled, drying your hands. “What are those?”

He held up a green one proudly, a sun in the corner with a crooked rainbow above it. “I’m inviting Daddy’s friends to my match! ‘Cause they said they’d come next time!”

You blinked back emotion. “They’ll love that.”

When Simon walked in and saw the mess of crayons and construction paper, he tilted his head.

“What’s all this, little lad?”

Tommy beamed. “Invitations!”

“For what?”

“My game! You said they’d wanna come!”

Simon froze in the doorway. And then—very slowly—he crouched next to his son, picked up one of the drawings and stared at it like it was the Mona Lisa.

“They’ll be there, kiddo. Promise.”

—

A Few Days Before the Match

The restaurant was the definition of comfort—old booths, framed kids’ drawings on the walls, crayons and coloring menus already on the table. You, Simon, and Tommy were squeezed into one side of the booth while Soap, Gaz, and Price took the opposite. It had been laughter and casual teasing all night.

But Tommy had been fidgety the entire meal, a little bundle of nerves and excitement, bouncing in his seat and clutching his backpack like it was a top secret mission.

When dessert arrived, he couldn’t wait anymore.

“I have something!” he blurted, sliding out of the booth and tugging open the zipper of his backpack with both hands.

Soap raised a brow. “This ain’t a bomb, is it?”

Tommy giggled. “Nooo, silly.”

He handed out folded papers one by one—wrinkled, smudged with crayon, each one unique.

“To Uncle Johnny. To Uncle Kyle. To Grandpa Price.”

They each unfolded theirs carefully, expressions going soft.

Soap snorted a laugh. “That’s me? You drew me with… is that a cape?”

“You’re my superhero,” Tommy explained proudly.

Gaz blinked a few times. “Is this for your football match?”

Tommy nodded eagerly. “You said if I invited you, maybe you could come. So I made invites! I drawed them all by myself!”

Price cleared his throat, already reading aloud. “‘Please come watch me score lots of goals. There will be juice after. Love, Tommy.’”

“Juice and football?” Soap grinned. “It’s a date.”

Gaz leaned across the table. “Front row. We’ll make signs.”

Tommy gasped. “Really?!”

“Absolutely,” Price added. “We’ll be the loudest ones there.”

Simon hadn’t said a word, just watching with his jaw set tight, a hand resting protectively on his son’s back.

When Tommy crawled back into the booth beside him and leaned into his side, Simon bent low, pressing a kiss to his curls.

“Told you they’d say yes,” he murmured.

—

Game Day

The field was damp from last night’s rain, the grass lush and springy underfoot. Kids ran wild in miniature uniforms, knee-high socks pulled to their thighs, shin guards crooked. You’d found a good spot on the bleachers while Simon paced just behind them, arm crossed, leg bouncing.

He was nervous.

“He’ll do great,” you said, rubbing his arm.

“I know,” Simon murmured. “Just—first time he’s ever played with a crowd.”

“He’s not just playing for a crowd.” You smiled. “He’s playing for his dad.”

He didn’t answer. Just kissed the top of your head and scanned the field until he found Tommy—a tiny blur of navy blue and white, blonde curls under a too-big headband, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

And then the shouting started.

“GO ON, TOMMY BOY!”

Soap.

“LET’S SEE THAT RILEY FOOTWORK!”

Gaz.

“DO US PROUD, LAD.”

Price, calm and commanding even from a lawn chair.

The three of them had shown up in matching 141 hoodies, faces painted with small stripes in Tommy’s team colors, holding signs that were very obviously made by Soap’s chaotic hand: “RILEY FOR MVP!” “BABY GHOST DOMINATES!”

Simon looked like he was about to cry. Or fight someone. Maybe both.

Tommy turned to look for you—and when he spotted his dad and the team waving wildly from the stands, he lit up.

He gave the smallest salute.

And then he ran.

The game was chaos in the best way. Kids missing the ball, bumping into each other, falling down and crying before getting up again like it never happened. But Tommy—Tommy scored. Twice.

You swore the sound Simon made wasn’t human.

Soap was on his feet, swinging Gaz in a circle. Price looked smug like he knew all along that the kid was destined for greatness.

And Tommy? He ran right to the fence after the whistle blew and threw himself into Simon’s arms.

“DID YOU SEE?!”

Simon lifted him like he weighed nothing. “Saw everything, champ. You were brilliant.”

His voice was hoarse. Raw. So proud.

And you—watching your husband hold your son like he was holding the whole damn sky—felt your heart swell.

—

After the Match

You all piled into a local family diner—sticky booths, cracked menus, a jukebox in the corner. Simon sat with Tommy tucked under one arm, still in his uniform, now eating a celebratory sundae with a plastic gold medal around his neck.

“Best player award,” Tommy announced to the table, lifting it up for all to see.

Soap clapped so hard it startled a waiter. “That’s our lad!”

Gaz leaned in close. “You want us to tell the base commander to get you a real one next time?”

Tommy’s eyes lit up. “Can you do that?!”

“Absolutely,” Price said. “We’ll frame it for you.”

The food was greasy and perfect—burgers, fries, and milkshakes all around. Simon barely touched his own plate, too busy watching his son laugh.

You caught his hand under the table. He laced his fingers with yours instantly.

“He’s happy,” you whispered.

“So am I.”

—

Later That Night

Back at the house, Tommy crashed the second his head hit the pillow—sunburnt cheeks, messy curls, medal still clutched in his hand.

Simon kissed his forehead and closed the door quietly behind him.

You found each other in the hallway, drawn together like magnets.

“He was amazing,” you whispered, arms slipping around his waist.

“He was perfect,” Simon murmured, pressing you back against the wall, hands slipping beneath your shirt. “You should’ve seen yourself cheering for him. Christ.”

“I did. You cried.”

“I didn’t—” he huffed, nose brushing yours. “Fine. Maybe a little.”

You laughed softly, fingers sliding beneath the hem of his shirt. “Come to bed.”

He didn’t need to be asked twice.

—

You lay beneath him, skin bare, breath stolen by the slow rhythm of his hips and the heat of his mouth on your neck.

Simon moved with reverence—like prayer. Every inch of him pressed close. Nothing frantic, nothing rough. Just desperate closeness.

“Missed this,” he whispered against your collarbone. “You. Home.”

“I missed you too,” you whispered, breathless as his hand slid over your hip, his lips ghosting over your breast.

The only sounds were the quiet creak of the bed and the way you gasped his name when he filled you again—slow, deep, a rhythm just for you.

You arched under him, clutching his shoulders, letting yourself fall apart in the safety of his arms. He followed not long after—buried deep, voice catching as he groaned your name into your mouth.

After, you stayed tangled together, hearts thudding in time, sweat cooling against your skin.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“For what?”

“For all of it. Him. You. This life. I never thought I’d have it.”

You cupped his face. “You earned it.”

Simon kissed you slow, like he could bottle this moment forever.

And maybe—just maybe—he could.

—

The Next Morning

You woke to the smell of pancakes and the sound of tiny feet thumping down the hall.

Simon’s voice drifted in from the kitchen.

“Alright, champ—one more flip, then you do the syrup.”

You padded out, still in one of Simon’s shirts, hair messy.

Tommy looked up from the stool he was perched on, beaming. “Mummy! We made breakfast!”

Simon looked up and smiled, eyes soft.

“Family tradition,” he said, setting a plate in front of you.

Tommy hopped off the stool, ran over, and threw himself into your lap.

You looked at them both—Simon, shirtless in flannel pants, Tommy in his dinosaur pajamas—and felt that ache again. The one that came from too much love in one room.

He was your little shadow.

And Simon?

Simon was finally standing in the light.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

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wombywoo · 2 years ago

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Ok! I've finally decided to put together a (somewhat) comprehensive tutorial on my latest art~

Please enjoy this little step-by-step 💁‍♀️

First things first--references!

Now I'm not saying you have to go overboard, but I always find that this is a crucial starting point in any art piece I intend on making. Especially if you're a detail freak like me and want to make it as realistic as possible 🙃

As such, your web browser should look like this at any given point:

Since this is a historical piece, it means hours upon hours of meaningless research just to see what color the socks are, but...again. that isn't, strictly, necessary 😅

Once I've compiled all my lovely ref pics, I usually dump them into a big-ass collage ⬇️

(I will end up not using half of these, alas :'D)

Another reference search for background material, and getting to showcase our models of choice for this occasion~

When picking a reference for an actor or model, the main thing I keep in mind (besides prettiness 🤭) is lighting and orientation. Because I already kinda know what pose I'm gonna go with for this piece, I can look for specific angles that might fit the criteria. I should mention that I am a reference hound, and my current COD actor ref folder looks like this:

Also keep in mind, if you're using a ref that you need to flip, make sure you adjust accordingly. This especially applies to clothing, as certain things like pants zippers and belt buckles can be quite specific ☝️

Now that we've spent countless hours googling, it's time to start with a rough sketch:

It doesn't have to be pretty, folks, just a basic guideline of where you want the figures to be.

The next step is to define it more, and I know this looks like that 'how to draw an owl' meme, but I promise--getting from the loose sketch above to below is not that difficult.

Things to keep in mind are--don't go too in-depth with the details, because things are still subject to change at this point. In terms of making a suitable anatomically-correct sketch, I would suggest lots of studying. This doesn't even have to be things like figure drawing, I genuinely look at people around me for inspiration all the time. Familiarize yourself with the human form, and things like weight, proportions, posing will seem a little more feasible.

It's also important at this stage to consider your composition. Remember to flip the canvas frequently to make sure you're not leaning to one side too often. I'm sure something can be said for the spiral fibonacci stuff, which I don't really try to do on purpose, but I think keeping things like symmetry and balance in mind is a good start ✌️

Next step is just blocking in the figures. Standard. No fuss 👍

Now onto the background!

It's frankly hilarious how many people thought I was *hand-drawing* these maps and stuff 😂😂 I cannot even begin to comprehend how insanely difficult that would be. So yeah, we're just taking the lazy copy and paste way out 🤙

I almost always prepare my backgrounds first, and this is mostly to get a general color scheme off the bat. For collage work, it's really just a matter of trial and error, sticking this here, slapping this there, etc. I like to futz around with different overlay options until I've found a nice arrangement. Advice for this is just--go nuts 🤷‍♀️

Next, I add a few color adjustments. I tend to make at least 2 colors pop in an art piece, and low and behold, they usually tend to be red and blue ❤️💙There's something about warm/cool vibes, idk man..

Now we move on to coloring the figures. This is just a basic block and fill, not really defining any of the details yet.

Next, we add some cursory values. Sloppy airbrush works fine, it'll look better soon I promise 🙏

And now--rendering!

I know a lot of beginner artists are intimidated by rendering, and I can totally understand why. It's just one of those things you have to commit to 💪

I've decided to show a brief process of rendering our dear Johnny's face here:

Starting off, I usually rely on the trusty airbrush just to get some color values going. Note--I've kept my sketch layer on top, but feel free to turn it on and off as you work, so as to not be too bound to the sketch. For now, it's just a guideline.

This next stage may look like a huge jump, but it's really just adding more to the foundation. I try to think of it like putting on make-up in a way~ Adding contours, accentuating highlights. This is also where I start adding in more saturation, especially around areas such as ears, nose and lips. Still a bit fuzzy at this point, but that's why we keep adding to it 💪

A boy has appeared! See--now I've removed most of the line layer, and it holds up on its own. I'll admit that in order to achieve this realistic style, you'll need lots and lots of practice and skill, which shouldn't be discouraging! Just motivate yourself with the prospect of getting to look at pretty men for countless hours 🙆‍♀️

I'll probably do a more in-depth explanation about rendering at some point, but let's keep this rolling~

Moving forward is just a process of adding to the figures bit by bit. I do lean towards filling in each section from top to bottom, but you can feel free to pop around to certain parts that appeal to you more. I almost always do the faces first though, because if they end up sucking, I feel less guilty about scrapping it 😂 But no--I think he's pretty enough to proceed 😚

They're coming together now 🙆‍♀️ Another helpful tip--make sure you reuse color. By that, I mean--try to incorporate various colors throughout your piece, using the eyedropper tool to keep a consistent palette. I try to put in bits of red and blue where I can

Here they are fully rendered! Notice I've made a few subtle changes from the sketch, like adjusting the belt buckles because I made a mistake 😬 Hence why you shouldn't put too much stock in your initial sketch~

The next step is more of a stylistic choice, but I usually go over everything with an outline, typically in a bright color like green. Occasionally, I can just use my initial line layer, but for this, I've made a brand new, cleaner line 👍

And the final step is adjusting the color and adding some text:

Tada!! It's done!

All in all, this took me the better part of a week, but I have a lot of free time, so yeah ✌️

I hope you appreciated that little walkthrough~ I know people have been asking me how I do my art, but the truth is--I usually have no clue how to explain myself 😅 So have this half-assed tutorial~

As a bonus, here is a cute (cursed) image of Johnny without his mustache:

A baby, a literal infant child !!! who put this wee bairn on the front lines ??! 😭

Anyway! peace out ✌️

#tutorial #my art #art tutorial #since people have been asking #I remembered to save my process from this latest work~#enjoy 🙆‍♀️

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latenighttalking00 · 2 years ago

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A Work of Art

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Fem! Reader

Summary: You are a Marchioness from france and your mother is adamant that you wed. She is a very close friend of the Dowager Vicountess Bridgerton who has so generously agreed to be your sponsor for the season. Perhaps in doing this, she has unknowingly found her son's perfect match as well.

Warnings: slow-ish burn, friends to lovers, smut, 18+, minors dni, hair pulling, possessive/dirty talk, fingering, oral (f receiving). This is just porn with a plot.

Word Count: 2k

Author's Note: Hi! def not proof read, apologies if it's a bit rough. Hopefully, you all absolutely drool over Benedict the same way I do. enjoy!

Once the social season had begun its approach, you and your family make haste on your return from france. Due to your newly given title, you are projected to be quite the diamond this season indeed.

As a close friend of the family, the Dowager Viscountess, Violet Bridgerton kindly offers to sponsor your debut this season, meaning that it is now of the utmost importance to arrive promptly at the Bridgerton home in London before the season is to begin.

As you sit in the drawing room, awaiting the next potential suitors you will inevitably send on their way, the clear and evident dread in your expression does not go unnoticed by your mother. A quick swat to your knee from her fan catches your attention, a visible look of warning on her face as your eyes meet hers.

"I do hope that attitude of yours is quick to dissipate." She sighs, "Men will find you quite inadequate to wed if you are to continue this ridiculous behavior. It is quite unladylike." Your mother's words cut right through you as if she had taken a hot paring knife to both of your ears. Not being able to withstand it any longer, you quickly stand from your seat and interrupt her.

"Mother, this gown and the line of men outside the door are quite suffocating enough; no need for your incessant nagging as well." You take a moment to pause, regaining your composure.

"I believe I am feeling quite faint; perhaps I've seen enough suitors today." You threaten rather than suggest, "I will return to my chambers and perhaps get a bit of rest seeing as the sun has already began it’s departure from the sky."

You bow and quickly excuse yourself before making haste out the door, walking as fast as your feet can take you, right past the men who are practically begging for just a minute of your attention.

You race directly to your bedroom, entering quickly and not even fully shutting the door before you are pulling down the zipper of your gown and letting it fall to the floor. "This retched thing must come off immediately," you mumble to yourself as you pull at the laces of your corset, loosening them just enough to slide off your body. A sigh of relief leaves your lips as you slip off your stays and slip on a beautiful white nightgown you purchased from one of the most talented modiste in france.

Shortly after the maids come to collect your gown, you are quick to wander down the halls in search of a cure to your relentless boredom. you find what appears to be an art studio and you are instantly overjoyed. you quietly sneak in through the door left ajar.

Art was your pride and joy; your sketches and the ability to produce beautiful works on canvas were the only things keeping you from becoming a mad woman.

Unbeknownst to you, Violet's second-eldest son and the owner of said art studio had just returned home from the gentleman's club. As he makes his way down the hall, prepared to return to his studio and peacefully finish up some things he started the night prior, he is met with complete and udder surprise at the sight of a woman flipping through his sketchbooks.

He feels as if the air has been knocked right from his lungs. Never once has a woman looked so real, raw, and simply ethereal to him in nothing but a simple yet elegant night gown, the pages in between your delicate fingers, the way in which you sit, your effortless and beautiful features, and the way they change and turn to show your focus, the true and utter intrigue at the charcoal etched on the paper is more than enough to bring a man directly to his knees.

He watches as you adjust your position, your nightgown sliding up your thighs as you cross a leg over the other. He feels as if he might faint.

“those are from my time traveling.” he points, making his way in to the room.

So lost in thought, you are quickly brought back by the sound of the deep and sultry voice coming from the hallway, it sends chills down your body, you are unable to fight the butterflies in your stomach and are completely unprepared for what you’re eyes are met with the second they dare to leave the pages in front of you. He is perhaps one of the most beautiful men you have ever seen, the way his features darken in the dim candle light could cause scandal merely on its own.

As he makes his way over to you, you scramble to find any sort of words to not appear as a complete and udder fool. “désolée, my Lord. All this beautiful artwork caught my eye and i could not help myself.” your voice only making his new found attraction grow even stronger.

“Benedict Bridgerton..” he says just loud enough for you to hear. He is quick to take your hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“Miss y/n y/l/n” you respond, a blush creeps over your cheeks as your eyes meet his. Your name and accent are both very quick explanations as to why a very random beautiful woman was wondering in

his family home.

“Ah yes, the Marchioness from France. My mother has done quite a bit of boasting upon your arrival, i can now see why she was so keen on you being the diamond of this social season” he chuckled lightly “merci, Lord Bridgerton.” you offer him a warm smile as you place the sketch book in his hands.

Your hand grazes his and you feel as if your body is set aflame. You quickly fumble to stand, attempting to leave before any further scandal is to happen. he is quick to catch you by the arm, his light grasp more than enough to keep you in place.

“Please, stay as long as you’d like.” He offers, taking a step towards you, but you are quick to shake your head, knowing staying any longer may very well affect your title and rank during this very precious season.

“You are more than kind.” you place a hand over his and squeeze lightly. He leans even closer, your face mere inches from his. his scent fills your nose and you cannot control the heat that consumes your body, the sheer need you have for him in this very moment. “I must- i uh-..” he raises an eyebrow at your words. though his proximity fogs your brain, you attempt to compose yourself. “Perhaps i can show you some of my art in the duration of my stay here.“ he smirks, dragging his teeth over his bottom lip as he nods “if what you create is half as beautiful as you, my art will never hold a candle to yours.” he compliments.

Your breathe catches in your throat as his words. “..Benedict- Apologies, Lord Bridgerton..” you quickly correct yourself, the use of his first name not going unnoticed by him. “I’m sure both your and my Mother will have quite the earful if i am found in here, i must go.” Before he is even able to protest, you are gone.

As the days pass, You begin to consume his every waking thought, the sound of your voice, the feeling of your skin on his is burned in to his memory and he cannot shake his want for you.

Anthony is quick to notice his admiration, the wandering stares and close proximity immediately become apparent in Anthony’s eyes. As the family settles in the drawing room, Anthony is quick to pull His younger brother aside “You’ve grown quite close with Marchioness” Anthony offers his younger brother a warning glance and Benedict simply smirks in return “Brother, are you suggesting that i’ve compromised Miss y/l/n?” he laughs. Anthony in no way finds this amusing “See to it that your intentions are well thought out and you are thinking with your brain rather than something else. She is a Marchioness, toying with oversea affairs may be more than risky, even for a Bridgerton.” Anthony notes, the clear and evident weariness in his voice wipes the smile right off Benedict’s face

“Brother, do remind me. Did you not ask for one Sharma’s hand in marriage and then proceed to marry the other? You need not inform me on scandal for i am more than well aware of what i am doing.” he place a hand on Anthony shoulder and squeezes light before walking away.

time skip

Benedict does everything in his power to gain every fraction of your attention when it is available. The two of you spending more time together than any of the men attempting to court you. This new grown fondness blossoms quickly and Benedict soon becomes one of your most trusted friends. Spending late nights in his art studio, promenades in the garden, pall mall with his family. You’ve never felt more at home than with your dear Benedict and his lovely family. This fondness grows very quickly to something much stronger. Knowing Benedict’s stance on courting and marriage in general, you shake the thought. Knowing your dear friend will never see you as anything but.

While enjoying another late night in his studio, you can’t help but feel different. You both are well aware your time together is coming to end. Suitors begin growing impatient and proposals begin rolling in faster than the tide.

“I quite like Lord Lumley, he is handsome and he finds interest in poetry.” Benedict is quick to laugh “Lord Lumley is a dimwit after nothing but your title.” you wince at his words “Clearly he’s much more of a gentleman than you.” You tease, crossing your arms over your chest. “Excuse me?” he asks, the change in his tone sending heat right between your thighs. He rises from his place on the stool and saunters over to you, his large frame towering over yours.

“Repeat what you said.” he orders

“Ben i was merely kidding i-“ you stutter, his proximity making your skin feel as if it were on fire.

“Do not make me ask you again.” he warns, a smirk on his face

You are a bit taken a back by his demeanor but the insatiable desire in your body fills you with a sudden surge of confidence. “Lord Lumley is more of a gentleman than you, Lord Bridgerton.”

Benedict lets out a low chuckle before leaning down, his mouth right by your ear.

“Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps Lord Lumley isn’t plagued by the same un-gentleman like thoughts that fill my head the moment you step into a room.” he sighs, his breath on your skin only making matters worse.

Your hands find his half buttoned shirt and you press your hands lightly to his chest “Benedict.” you warn.

he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes with his own. Your noses practically grazing as he speaks. “Tell me now that you do not desire me.” His hands rest on either side of your face “Simply speak the words and i will respectfully withdraw and allow you to be with whomever you like but first you must tell me you do not desire me and you wish for me to leave you alone.”

“Ben.” You mumble quitely. Every feeling or emotion that the second eldest Bridgerton has ever caused immediately rises to the surface. At a complete loss for words, you do what you feel is right in the very moment and you bring your lips to his.

The kiss quickly fills with passion, weeks of hidden adoration and care comes bubbling over the surface.

“Marry me.” he say breathlessly as he breaks from the kiss. “You have shown me what is it truly like to admire a woman. To look at her and feel inspiration. To delight in her beauty. So much so that all of her defenses crumble and that you would willingly take on any pain or burden for her. To honor her being with your deeds and words. You make me feel what only a true poet describes." his works nearly bring you to your knees as tears threaten to escape your eyes. “I would move the heavens down to earth for you if i knew it would make you smile.”

“Benedict.. Je vous aime.” you reassure him “I love you mon chéri, more than the moon loves the night sky. You are my everything, my best-friend. I would give anything to be your wife.” He pulls you back in for another kiss which very quickly becomes heated.

He trails hot kisses all over your jaw, neck and bosom. “My beautiful Fiancée.” he mumbles, his wandering hands sliding their way up your thighs, threatening to breach the hem of your nightgown. You are immediately reminded of your current location and you push the dark haired boy back “Ben.. not here” you breathe out, The second Bridgerton son just smirks before kneeling down in front of you.

Unsure of what he’s planning, you remain silent, eyes trained on his as he begins trailing kisses up from your ankle to your inner thigh. His hands trail up the back of your legs, giving your ass a playful squeeze as he reaches it, causing a gasp to escape from your lips.

The mere sight of him like this sends heat directly between your thighs, all logical thinking thrown out the window as he begins to tug your panties down your thighs. A blush creeps over your cheeks and your hands find his hair, tugging lightly. Benedict continues with no hesitation, pressing light kisses all over your inner thighs, leading right up to your aching core. You’re unable to fight back the sounds that leave your lips as you feel his tongue pressed against your clit. “Christ Benedict… you’re going to be the death of me.”

He wastes no time, lapping, kissing and sucking at your soaked heat as strong hands grip on to your thighs, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. You lean against his desk to keep yourself upright while quiet moans and whimpers escape your lips, your hands pulling and tugging at his messy black hair, only encouraging him more. He pulls back only for a moment to look up at you “You taste fucking divine, my beautiful work of art.”

He is quick to return to your soaked heat. As his tongue works relentlessly on your clit, he slowly pushes two fingers inside of you, giving you a moment to adjust before slowly thrusting them in and out. Shortly after, you feel an unfamiliar knot form in the pit of your stomach and Benedict is aware immediately due to your incoherent mumbles and the way you clench around his fingers. “That’s my girl..” he says breathlessly “just like that..” After hearing his words, you completely unravel, shaky moans escape your lips as one hand grips on to the table and the other with a tight hold on your Fiancées hair.

Once your body has relaxed, he gently pulls your panties back up before standing to face you. You watch as he brings his fingers to your mouth “Open.” he commands and you immediately oblige, opening your mouth as he slides his fingers past your lips. The unfamiliar taste and the sheer sight in front of you causes a blush to fall over your face. He removes his fingers with a groan and offers your a smirk “You, my dear Fiancée are going to be the death of Me.”

A/N: Hi guys! I really hope every likes this :) if you have any request, feel free to send them to me :)

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x fem! reader #benedict #bridgerton #smut #anthony bridgerton #benedict smut #benedict bridgerton smut

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borkunlimited · 3 months ago

Text

Take Your Time, Miss Deer (Sylus x Reader) - Ch. 5

In a tailor shop tucked in the calmer side of the N109 zone is a little room where all clothes of many different designs come together under the delicate hands of an unassuming deer living in the den of all sorts of beasts and sitting on them is the dragon who wears your clothes.

Your many interactions with Skye, Mr. Sylus’ messenger or-

-Sylus is waiting for you to finally figure out he is playing his own messenger.

A Deer Hybrid! Reader x Dragon Hybrid! Sylus Fic

Tags: Sylus x Reader, Hybrid AU, Suggestive Themes, Fluff, Predator/Prey, Injury, Blood, Guns

Trigger Warning: Injury, Blood, Guns

Chapter Summary: He had pushed against all odds, defying every word they described him. If you let him kiss your wounds, he hopes you will kiss his real name in return.

Author's Note: Rereading Beastars in my spare time made me understand why people tend to wait for a series to finish even if it takes YEARS. Anyways, I am also catching up on Ancient Magus Bride as well. Really inspired me to draw better. Will I draw art for this series? Maybe?

AO3

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch.4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10 / Side A / Side B

5: My Dearest, Frustrated

A walk usually helps you clear your head.

There are a few things you missed about the place that you used to live with your father. When the sewing machine refuses to cooperate and your fingers are beginning to tremble from hand stitching delicate fabrics, you always find your feet carrying you around Bloomshore District.

It is one of the only few places in the country where humans and hybrids can co-exist but even then, it still has its fair share of problems hidden beneath the idyllic place, subtle words and looks laced from mostly humans who believes you owe it to them that they see you as civilized.

Unfortunately, a short walk is one of the many privileges you have to let go when you move here in the N109 zone.

Today, everything is slowly becoming frustrating.

A slight pressure from your foot will have the sewing machine run too fast, out of control, and you are getting tired of ripping the seams of the same stitch too many times just to repeat the same mistake.

If you are not too careful, you might actually end up starting all over again because you have already stretched the expensive fabric too much.

Your father is very wise in accepting requests and even when you are fully booked for every month, he makes sure you have enough on your plate that you still have breathing space and keeps the business afloat.

Still, there are cases that clients often go straight to you to ask for favors.

Just like that sweet baker.

A sheep hybrid, a former close neighbor who also moved with you and your father here, asked you personally if you can prioritize her order. She was hesitant at first, saying that you can turn her down if it is a bit too much but you don’t mind, especially when it is her and her husband’s wedding anniversary and the offer of strawberry shortcake in return was something you can't resist.

It was supposed to be easy.

Then, the needle of the sewing machine hit the zipper, the sound was too loud as it thud harshly against the same spot and you panicked, stepping on the pedal too hard.

No.

No!

No amount of ripping the seams would salvage this fabric now.

You wanted to cry but the sound of your frustrated scream remained deep in your chest and your lips trembled.

This is the only thing you are good at. You can’t fail at this. This is what feeds you and your father, what keeps the roof above your heads, one late order can affect the reputation of this shop and then you have to go back-

You don’t want to go back.

Mpehisto tilts its head at you, its optics zooming in to see the pinpricks of tears on the corner of your eyes and notices you are biting your bottom lip too hard.

It immediately pieced together that you are clearly upset so it did what it usually does to comfort you.

It does the dance.

Yes, that dance.

The steps are fairly simple.

Three little hops (Right, left, center. It should go in that order!), a twirl with its wings spread wide and then ends with its tail wagging, a dramatic bow.

Usually, that makes you clap at its performance and giggle softly.

Yet, you did not react at all when it tried to do the ‘silly dance’ as you called it in front of you just now.

What’s wrong?

Why aren’t you laughing?

Did it not do the twirl well enough?

Did it not practice enough?

“You should go home, Daisy,” you said quietly.

But it doesn’t want to go. This is exactly why its master sends it here after all.

To look after you, to listen to you.

It is your confidant as much as it is to its master.

Daisy only stared back at you and you sighed, standing up and then opening the window wider.

“Come on, Daisy,” you beckoned, trying hard not to sound curt but failing miserably, “I am sure your nest needs a crow.”

It seemed to hesitate at first, flapping towards your windowsill and if crows can frown, Mephisto certainly did when the kiss you gave on top of its head was too forced.

The mechanical crow gave you one last look before flying away and there is only one thing running in its mind after it sent Sylus its data-

-If it can’t comfort you, then its master should surely know what to do.

────────────────────

There are people who are as stubborn as a mule.

It has been a terribly long day and Sylus’ initial plans of visiting you have already been delayed by an hour.

An hour.

He has interacted with different kinds of people, humans and hybrids alike, but this one, this particular human takes the crown as the most annoying business partner Sylus had dealt with.

“These firearms are overpriced,” the human tried to haggle with him and Sylus has to commend this nuisance for not even trembling on his presence.

Such is the pride of every human, he supposed, the weakest among the bunch always think they are more superior to the strongest hybrid.

“The prices are non-negotiable,” he replied coldly, his eyes narrowed towards the human who is examining the firearms too many times and he is stopping himself from rolling his eyes because the human clearly thinks they are fake, “They are high-end models. Do you want them or not?”

This dragon is harder to bully than the rest. Most hybrids would cower to any demands laid down by a human but there is always that one hybrid among the rest who does not back down, even with threats.

You would have expected a rare hybrid would value his life more and concede just to survive but no, not this beast.

What does this beast call himself again?

Right, Sylus.

The hybrid who had built this city that is now crawling with his fellow abominations.

The brute must have been so lonely that he worked tooth and nail so that he carved out his own empire with his own subjects.

Of course, the human did his research ahead and who would have thought, this thing feared even by his kind actually had a heart.

These beasts run their mouths so much that he heard that Sylus over here is doting over a deer hybrid.

He stooped so low that of all the hybrids he could pick from, he chose a docile deer.

A complete opposite of him.

Now the human can’t help but wonder.

Is that poor deer Sylus has chosen his emergency ration or a feast for a special day?

“I do, but inflating your prices would not be too good for your business, don’t you think?”, the human asked.

This insolent human is so amusing, isn’t he?

“You’re not in any position to lecture me on how I should run my business,” Sylus answered, a subtle hint of anger creeping in his face.

This negotiation should have clearly ended earlier but Sylus still has half a mind to be at least cordial to these imbeciles whether he likes it or not, the last thing he wants is for the police to start sniffing again after he had paid them a hefty sum.

Sylus didn’t bother to know their names and he can hear the human whisper with his companions.

These people.

Barging here, demanding for quality goods, and then suddenly doubt their authenticity? Maybe they shouldn’t even be here.

He took a sip from his glass, the whisky burning on his throat when a certain weight pressed down on his left shoulder.

Mephisto?

His mechanical crow let out a caw.

How odd.

His companion is basically glued to you at this point. Isn’t this one supposed to be hanging around you at this hour?

Did something happen? No, he had set up security alarms around your shop, he would have known if something or someone triggered it.

Sylus frowned at Mephisto, not caring if he was in the middle of business and his crow projected a hologram in front of him, just small enough for his eyes and the volume low.

“Go home, Daisy.”

No wonder why Mephisto is here.

You are clearly upset over something and oh, Sylus will certainly drop everything he is doing when he sees those pinpricks of tears in the corner of your eyes.

His precious deer does not get easily upset, always patient and the look of frustration is a foreign expression Sylus had never seen before.

Whoever made you cry should certainly wish they had a plot already reserved in the cemetery.

“Deal’s off,” Sylus said, immediately standing up and his tail flicking in annoyance.

This conversation had already run past its course anyways and he had more pressing matters to attend to than listening to a human haggle with him until he gave his wares for free. Unbelievable.

“What?! You're leaving? You can’t just walk away-”

“Watch me.”

“You’re going to regret this, Sylus!”

The exit to the warehouse slammed shut and it was clear to everyone inside that no exchange was going to happen.

Sylus knows he could go look for another customer. There will always be another human or another hybrid who is willing to pay the price he had set.

The threats thrown by the human faded into white noise and the only thought running in his mind is that he needs to get to your shop as soon as he can. The human can go on and on about putting his head on a silver platter and even then, he could hardly care when he eats those words for breakfast.

His business can wait.

He had to wipe away those tears first.

The dark thread wind against the empty bobbin, your foot stepping on the pedal to refill it. After Daisy left, you have set aside the dress for now and have decided to work on Mr. Sylus’ shirt.

Sewing his clothes has become a regular task for you and because of that you don’t have to look at his measurements anymore because you already have it memorized.

Even when it is such a warm, sunny day here in the N109 zone, today is not your day from the looks of it but you are still struggling to accept that fact, pushing yourself to just work on something, anything so that you have at least progress.

Just one shirt. Anything. The fabrics have to come together and take a new shape today.

As much as you love random visits from your clients, you really hope none of them would come inside your studio. Not today because you are very close. Very close to snapping because the threads are refusing to listen to you, the end of the thread of the bobbin now stuck.

Again.

Now you have to manually unwind it.

Again.

You let out a sharp inhale, removing your foot from the pedal while you slowly untangle the thread and your hands faltered when the door opened to reveal the person you specifically hope to not come over, your anger and frustration mixing together and now simmering under the surface.

“Hello, Skye,” you greeted, your voice slightly strained but you still gave Mr. Sylus’ messenger the best smile you have, even if it was slightly forced.

Sylus’ gaze moved up and down, checking for anything that might be out of place but aside from the usual mess of threads that hang on your antlers every time you work, you seemed fine.

Except, not just your usual cheerful self.

“Hello, sweetie,” he greeted you, taking quick strides until he was standing beside where you were sitting, “Everything alright?”

Of all times your favorite visitor has to come over, it has to be today where all you want is to be left alone but you don’t want to be rude, you know Skye must be busy, being Mr. Sylus’ messenger/bodyguard/boss henchman, but he still made an effort to go here so you just sighed in defeat, thinking you should still be at your best behavior.

“I am fine,” you replied but the answer came out on your mouth too clipped, the corner of your lips twitched slightly.

“Something’s bothering you, miss seamstress.”

“Nothing’s bothering me.”

“Always a terrible liar, sweetheart.”

“I am not,” you replied, closing your eyes briefly to reel in the irritation threatening to break the surface only for you to once again step too hard on the pedal, the needle you just replaced running diagonally across the fabric and you let out a yelp, the sharp object piercing your finger.

“Darling-”

You were able to pull back just in time, letting go of the pedal and cradling the injury close to your chest.

“Let me see,” Sylus kneeled in front of you, his heart racing when he saw you curling up on your chair in silent pain and sobbing quietly.

You shook your head at first, trying to calm yourself.

“Please, sweetheart.”

His voice was soft, close to a plea, as if he is coaxing you, the frightened deer to step closer, that he meant no harm.

“Let me see how bad it is,” he pressed further, his fingers wrapping around your wrist and tugging it gently, waiting for you to loosen up.

Hot tears stream on your face but you finally let him check your wound, blood slowly pouring out.

It is a nasty cut, the needle that pierced your skin is certainly sharp and brand new, but with a quick clean-up, your wound should heal before you even know it.

“Sweetie, this is a pretty deep cut,” Sylus said softly, wrapping your injured finger with his own white handkerchief, the blood staining the fabric but at least it would stop the flow while he looked for a first aid kit.

He stood up, thinking of stepping out to ask your father where you keep the medical supplies even if your father’s first assumption might be because he finally decided to pounce on you, that he had a moment of weakness and decided to have your finger as an appetizer.

“Skye.”

Sylus heard you call out his name, his false name, but he was so used to it that he immediately spun around before he could even turn the handle of your studio door.

“I keep the bandages in the washroom,” you said quietly, your eyes moving at the door to your right.

“I’ll be back in a moment, sweetie,” he told you and you watched him walk towards the direction of the washroom, your ears perking upon hearing him opening the cabinet doors.

Must there always be a wound for you to realize that you are letting your emotions ahead of you?

It is an innate survival instinct, aside from the antlers that you also lose during the winter, to keep your emotions at bay because your naturally docile kind has nothing to protect themselves aside from sticks and stones.

Better to lay low than alert unwanted company, better to stay still for a moment than forever.

You watched him kneel in front of you again, taking your hand with the injured finger and unwrapping the white handkerchief before setting it aside. There is nothing but focus on his gaze, no hint of the dilated pupils that predator hybrids have when they catch a scent of blood.

“I can take care of it,” you said quietly, trying to pull away your hand but he held on to it firmly.

Afraid. You are afraid to see the reality of this uncommon situation where you have grown to cherish one of the few hybrids in the N109 zone and prove everyone’s words right-

“Dragons eat their prey alive.”

-That he and you are indeed very, very different.

Your heart skipped a bit when he moved your finger closed to his lips and his gaze trained towards you, a permission. Even then, his eyes remained the same. The same crimson eyes that looked at you fondly every time you talk.

There is no hint of hunger, no hint of any desire to devour you.

For a moment, you and him are almost close to being humans, just two conscious beings.

“I am not going to hurt you.”

“You won’t?”

“I would never harm you.”

You nodded slowly, a yes, and he took your wounded finger towards his mouth, placing a soft kiss at your fingertip before licking the cut, his tongue warm.

Vigor. Most predator hybrids specifically go to the black market for this. For blood. Sylus refused to partake in it, mostly because he is already powerful in his own right and he refused to be dependent on such.

The words are true, it is incredibly potent, just one drop alone. Your skin is soft, your blood sweet yet call it sheer willpower because he is not going to let those primitive instincts kick in, even when his sharp canines beckons him for a little nip.

Just a small bite.

It was never hunger that drove his attraction to you.

It was companionship, a longing.

May this be the lying dragon’s proof to you of his undying devotion, likely the last of his kind, the lonely fiend, a lowly liar, liar, liar, undeserving of your affection but here he is, on his knees, silently begging for more and never in his waking days and fitful nights he had ever dreamt of even laying a finger to the deer who willingly stepped out of the blurry line of her paradise to his so she can have a better look at the monster wearing a false name hiding in the foliage of the dark forest.

Let this be his unspoken promise from him to you.

Let his actions be witness that he is nothing but honest to the affections he had reserved just for you.

There was a moment of silence that settled between the two of you, Sylus focused on cleaning your cut and even when the taste of you lingered in his tongue, he had swore in himself to wash it off, to never succumb to its allure.

“I was bad at Daisy,” you said softly, guilty at how you treated your little assistant. It even did the silly dance to cheer you up but you just looked at it, never giving it praise that it deserves.

Were you that frustrated? You really hope your crow friend visits again soon so you can apologize.

“I am sure Daisy understands, miss seamstress,” Sylus replied, dabbing your wound with antiseptic. He already played the rest of the recording on his way here, witnessing your frustration.

“I was mean to you too,” you added, your voice softer that you are unsure if he even heard you.

But Sylus did not miss your quiet confession laced with guilt. It seems that you are never used to expressing your anger, how you opt to stray away instead of lashing out, your deer and human sides clashing on processing such.

“I know you didn’t mean it, sweetie,” he answered gently.

He isn’t foreign to this. How many times did he lash out when he was young? He doesn’t even choose his targets, his anger directed at either hybrid or human, anyone who is in front of him. The anger still remained, the anger of losing his sense of belonging but it became bearable to carry, the burden smaller now.

Time made him realize that even when he might be the last of his kind, he certainly is not the last hybrid.

“There you go. All better now, sweetheart.”

The heavy emotions lingering in the air slowly drift off, replaced by a certain understanding only the two of you have, a deal Sylus has sealed by pressing another kiss on your bandaged finger.

His little doe, a genius in her own right, having a rainy day. It was obvious based on the state of your working desk and what he saw that your materials are refusing to follow the instructions of their beautiful maestro, refusing to follow the beat she has set.

His knuckles traced the path of your tears, pressing his lips on them, kissing away the lingering frustration while your sobs slowly turned into quiet whimpers.

“How about I sing it away until you forget it even ever existed, hm?”

He didn’t wait for you to reply, his baritone voice filled the room, soft. The high and low notes seemed to tumble out of his lips with no sense of consistency that you finally cracked a smile when he finished.

“You have a very silly way of singing, Skye,” you pointed, stifling your giggle.

Oh so his mechanical crow’s dance that he programmed himself was labelled as a ‘silly dance’ and now you are calling his singing ‘silly’ as well? After the effort he put on that little song.

“It’s called ‘unique’, miss seamstress, not ‘silly’”, he playfully corrected you, pinching your cheek and he grinned further when that familiar cheerful smile was slowly returning on your adorable face.

“Can you do it again for me soon, Skye?”, you asked, “If you don’t mind?”

Ah, his little deer, becoming so bold in asking for favors. Back then, you used to be so hesitant because you were worried you might be imposing on him.

“I will sing for you day or night as often as you want me to.”

His reply seemed to perk you up, your tail wagging and you glanced at the ruined shirt you were sewing for Mr. Sylus. The frustration of not getting it right seemed to ebb away and now replaced with a new determination but perhaps, that energy is reserved for tomorrow once your head is clearer.

“Can you also tell Mr. Sylus I am not delayed on his requests?”, you asked again but this time, slightly hesitant, “I am still on track, I promise.”

“I will. You’re never anything but efficient, miss seamstress,” Sylus answered. He already knows you always meet your deadlines, that you are such a diligent tailor that knows the importance of each clothes you make to your client.

There will be a time this game of pretend shall come to an end and he had always looked forward to that day but for now, his identity does not matter much to him.

Right now, as long as he sees his beautiful deer, unharmed, then-

-Everything is right with the world.

────────────────────

“Are you sure you are alright?”

Your father asked you again but you don’t mind, nodding before you took a bite of the salad he prepared for dinner.

“Yes, I think I am just a little stressed lately,” you answered, fiddling with your fork.

“I mean with your visitor earlier,” your father said quietly and his eyes lingered at your finger wrapped with a red bandage.

He doesn’t exactly dislike Sylus, no, far from that. Only a few people hold a certain respect for the dragon hybrid who was kind enough to let people settle here and he is one of them. If anything, he is more than grateful for his support.

Yet, uttering his name out loud when he is not around, your father always thinks he is going to summon Sylus by accident, knowing the dragon is always listening, especially when it comes to you.

“Oh, yes, it was a very pleasant visit.”

“You can tell me anything, you know.”

“But I am,” you replied, slightly confused as you tilt your head at him. “Skye didn’t do anything bad.”

Skye.

He still doesn’t know why you address Sylus as such. Is it a nickname only you and your favorite visitor understand? Perhaps it is because Sylus never bothered to correct you.

Your father is more than aware you are a very terrible liar ever since you are a child. Your bluntness does not come across sarcasm but an observation, and even when you lie, there are always tell tale signs.

Yet, right now, you are completely honest that you find Sylus’ visits enjoyable and it is undeniable you two are becoming closer. How your scent clung on the dragon hybrid’s horns, how Sylus is staying longer than usual, and the recent development-

-That cut on your finger was tended by the man himself.

Perhaps his worries are for nothing, that Sylus indeed has genuine intentions.

Still, when you almost lose everything, any new change comes with doubt and uncertainty.

Your father just smiled, piling more food on your plate and his gaze moved behind your back, at the shelves where both of you kept the expensive china gifted to your shop by one of your clients, towards the little drawer where the keys are kept and-

-He hopes that the little package wrapped in old newspaper will forever remain unopened.

────────────────────

Luke and Kieran had to immediately cover their noses when they caught the scent of blood in the air.

Let the humans in white coats tinker with you long enough that you will be able to pick out which scent belongs to who and well, this new scent is particularly potent.

Their pupils dilated and they looked at each other, their hands trembling and dropping the sheep plushies they were working on.

It wasn’t the first time they smelled blood. It is a general scent in the N109 zone after all but this one, no, this one utterly horrified them.

No, it can’t be.

Soft cotton and wildflowers. Springtime. Soil thawing out after a long winter.

This is yours.

No, that’s not possible.

Boss is a dangerous man but he isn’t a damn animal but what if-

-The blood spilling from your neck staining the fabric, the tailor’s chalk on the wooden floor and your hand, lifeless and pale, reaching for it but only for you to never do.

It was an image too much to bear.

Sylus barely even touched the handle to the double doors of the base when it opened wide, the twins immediately going after him.

“Boss, what did you do to her?!”, Luke yelled at his face, his knife immediately going after his throat.

There is only one thought running in their heads.

They will kill him, even if he is leagues stronger than both of them combined.

Kieran was quick, aiming for his abdomen but Sylus is quicker than these two.

Prior from taking them in, these two tried to end him before so it has been awhile when he has seen the twins with their hackles raised, their tails tucked between their legs, and yes, snarling at him.

“Back down. Now.”

“We trusted you!”

“And I trusted you two not to jump to conclusions.”

This little display made him realize he still has more to teach to these wolf cubs that just end up following him but he doesn’t blame them.

Any predator hybrid who doesn’t keep themselves in check would always jump toward its source, conscience gone and natural instincts kicking in without them realizing it.

Incredibly potent. An irreversible addiction.

He pulled out the handkerchief and the twins’ immediately covered their noses with their hands, turning away and flinching from the object.

“She had an accident while working earlier,” Sylus explained, returning the cloth back to his pocket but even then, the two refused to put down their hands.

“Is Miss Deer alright?”, Kieran asked.

“It’s nothing serious,” Sylus assured the two.

The two still stepped further from him, as long as he had that handkerchief with him, there is no way they are coming near the boss, even if he orders them too.

It was too overwhelming. Every blood from a prey hybrid is a trigger for a century old trait that should have faded away. They don’t know how the boss does it, how he is awfully calm even when they are close to salivating just from the scent alone.

Detestable. Their bodies acting against their wills, close to forcing them to step closer.

“Boss, we have to go,” Kieran said weakly.

“Then go,” Sylus said and the two wasted not another minute, disappearing back at the base and away from that scent.

Sure he is a fiend.

But he is certain he isn’t a lunatic.

And he has a strong will, relentless.

Even if he has his first taste, he isn’t a man that will back down on his oath.

Afterall, he is as much a human as he is a dragon.

────────────────────

Author's Note: This was based on an experience where I actually did had this accident and boy, it hurt like hell HAHA

AO3

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch.4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10 / Side A / Side B

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #hybrid au #lads hybrid au #lads #lads sylus

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badasmuse · 2 years ago

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“Drunk and Possessive”

Bada Lee x Reader

Warnings: 18+(MDNI), language, drunk!bada, possessive!bada, lowercase intended, violence, suggestive if you squint, name calling (from outsiders), no relationship (yet)

Summary: bada takes you to a party and man she’s never been more angry.

A request so no song

bada has had a crush on you for so long. she’s your best friend and has been since you met on the playground after some little asshole was bullying you so she kicked sand in her face. even tho there’s six years between you two, you don’t let it bother you. you’re still besties for the resties.

but despite being able to read her like a book, you’re completely oblivious to her so disgustingly obvious crush. she’d do anything for you. literally anything. she proved that when one time you were walking in the park and thought it would be funny to go, “i bet you won’t grab that squirrel.” big mistake on your end cause the mf went and grabbed the squirrel and it bit her.

“you’re a fucking idiot why would you grab the squirrel?” you said driving her to the hospital.

“you told me to.” she said pouting, holding her bleeding hand close to her chest.

you’ve also had a crush on bada for awhile but you hide it from everyone. you didn’t think you were her type. you weren’t a dancer, you don’t have any real talent, you’re an art major but you don’t even think you can draw that well. (even tho you’re absolutely amazing to anyone else. especially bada.)

speaking of bada and art, you just left ceramics class, your last class of the day, and guess who’s outside with your favorite biggby drink and a soft pretzel.

“hey.” bada says softly as you approach her.

“you don’t understand how bad i needed this.” you say throwing your bag in the backseat and hugging bada tight, planting a light kiss on her cheek before taking the coffee and pretzel.

bada blushes and opens the door for you, grabbing your arm to help you in. “i don’t understand how you wear those heels.” she mumbles before closing the door and getting in the driver’s seat.

“i wear them to match your height. you’re too tall.”

she chuckles and starts driving. “you wanna come to a party with me tonight?”

“what i tell you about this last minute shit bada?” you say rolling your eyes.

“i know i know a week in advance. but like.. you’re not doing anything. might as well come.” she says pinching your cheek.

“i guess so.” you groan. “fine i’ll go. what time? what should i wear?”

“whatever you want.” bada pulls into the lot of your shared apartment and obviously goes around to open the door for you grabbing your hand to help you out.

“bada you’re such a gentleman.” you giggle going to grab your bag but she beats you to it.

“come on, angel.” she says walking behind you with a hand on your back. like she always does.

a few hours later, you’re out the shower and standing in front of the mirror wondering what to wear. you have two options and you don’t want to ask bada cause man- that woman is no help. none at all.

you settle on the short black dress and pair it with ankle boots, obviously heeled. you do a quick smokey eye look to match the dress and finally put it on pouting as you reach for the zipper but it’s just out of reach, barely touching your fingertips.

“bada~” you call out, the pout evident in your voice.

“yes?” she walks in fully dressed looking like a tall glass of water and all of a sudden, you’re thirsty.

but you’d never say that.

“can you zip this for me?” you give her doe eyes knowing she wouldn’t say no in the first place but they add character.

she walks behind you and gently pulls the zipper up and man the electricity that went through you when her long fingers brushed against your back.

“you look good.” bada comments looking at you through the mirror.

“thanks i’m hoping to find someone tonight. hopefully a relationship but a hookup is just as good.”

bada’s jaw clenches and she clears her throat, “let’s go.” she mumbles walking downstairs to get her shoes and keys.

you follow her grabbing your shoes and blushing when bada kneels to put them on for you and zip them up.

like girl how can you not see she in love with you???

———

once you arrive at the party, bada immediately goes to get a drink. you follow and pull her down so she can hear you, “don’t drink too much bada.” you whisper and she just nods.

you get yourself a drink and leave to find someone to dance with. you find yourself in the middle dancing with a group of people.

bada watches, standing next to lusher and tatter with a pout on her face.

“you know,” lusher starts, “if you just told her you love her she wouldn’t be all over them she’d be all over you.”

“if she feels the same way.” tatter added which she immediately regretted cause if looks could kill… yeah.

time passes and bada has had way too many. she can barely stand up straight and her speech is beyond slurred, she’s practically incoherent. not to mention her vision is incredibly blurry.

despite all that, she does see the guy that approaches you and starts dancing with you. you’re having a great time and bada is pissed.

she pushes herself off the wall and stumbles over to you and the guy. “hey.” she slurs separating you two.

“bada what are you doing?” you ask holding onto her as she slings her arm around you.

“she’s my girlfriend. back.. back off.” she says pushing the guy back.

“she’s been dancing with everyone in here.”

“mhm and i’m putting a stop to it. she’s mine. fuck off.”

“go ahead keep her. but in my opinion, if she’s gonna act like a whore i’d just pass her off.” he shrugs.

that sobered bada right up.

she runs a hand down her face, cocks her arm back, and swings. hitting the man full force in the face, knocking him to the ground.

“BADA!” you yell, barely able to hold her anymore. you quickly drag her outside and make her sit down on the curb. “what is your problem?” you ask, inspecting her hand.

“my problem? you. you’re my problem. you’re so fucking… oblivious. i’m in love with you and you’re constantly flirting with other people and sleeping with other people. you’re mine. i don’t want anyone else touching you the way i should be touching you!” bada grabs your hand and drags you towards her car.

“what are you doing?” you whispered.

“showing you that you’re mine.”

part 2 maybe?

#bada lee #swf2 #bada lee x reader #swf2 x reader #imagine #bada lee smut

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shadowkoo · 4 months ago

Text

Touch Of Cherries - Teaser

→ Summary: With Valentine’s Day fast approaching, your thoughtful and devoted boyfriend is determined to make it unforgettable. But when you suggest something completely unexpected like a threesome - with his best friend, no less - he’s caught entirely off guard. Shock quickly turns into curiosity, and as the day draws closer he realizes there’s a whole new side of you he can’t wait to discover.

↠ jimin x f.reader x jungkook | 681 words | 18+ ↠ genre: smut, romance, pwp, threesome

→ Full Fic Warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, explicit sex, threesome, hand job, blow job, extreme teasing, dirty talk, edging, humiliation, degradation, punishment, choking, spanking, orgasm denial, food play (candied cherries, chocolate-covered strawberries, whipped cream, ice cream), butt plugs vibrators, cock rings, vibrating nipple clamps, flogger, feather tassel, leather paddle, blindfolds, tape, silk ties, muzzle, spit play, cum play, bdsm themes, dom/sub switch, mainly dom!reader, bratty!jungkook, submissive!jimin, & more!

→ Networks: tagged below

@ksmutsociety @k-vanity @keopihaus

@lapydiaries @bangtanwritershq

→ Author Note: a big thanks to booki @kwanisms for creating this stunning banner for me! y'all are not ready for this fic i swear, it's unrealllllll!!! as always, likes & reblogs are appreciated ♡

Jimin mewls into your ear as you stroke him, his breathing turning ragged, his hips subtly bucking into your touch. He’s close—so close—but you won’t let him have it. Not yet.

Your grip tightens around his shaft, thumb circling the sensitive head just enough to make him tremble. A surprised gasp escapes his lips, but before he can beg for more, you pull away entirely.

His frustrated whimper only fuels your desire.

You do it again, bringing him to the very edge and making his whole body tense with anticipation, only to snatch it away at the last second.

The night is just getting started, and Jimin is already at your mercy. Exactly where you want him.

Shifting your attention to Jungkook, who has been waiting far too patiently on the bed, you slide your hand down to his zipper, pulling it down with deliberate slowness. His jeans slide to his knees, exposing thick, tense thighs that flex beneath your fingertips as you trail them up toward the outline of his growing arousal, straining behind the fabric of his briefs.

Your fingers dip just beneath the waistband, teasing just enough to send a ripple of goosebumps across his skin before you tug the fabric down, freeing him completely.

“Mmm, you look more than ready for me,” you murmur, eyes flicking up to meet his. “Tell me, do you want my hands on you?”

Jungkook nods frantically, desperation written all over his face.

A devilish smile tugs at your lips as you lean in, lips hovering just inches from his aching length. You blow a soft stream of air against it, watching with satisfaction as his abs flex in response.

“What about my mouth?” you purr, voice dripping with mischief. “Would you like that?”

His chest rises and falls with heavy, uneven breaths. “Fuck, yes. I want it all,” he groans, already on edge.

You let a single finger trail along the prominent vein running up his shaft, barely touching him, yet it’s enough to make him shiver. You can feel how hard he’s fighting to stay still, to not thrust into your teasing touch.

“Fuck,” he gasps, his tattooed hands gripping the sheets.

You ignore his frustration, turning instead to Jimin, who is watching with wide, hungry eyes.

“Tell me what to do to him,” you command smoothly.

Jimin blinks, caught off guard. “You…want me to tell you?”

“Yes, baby,” you coo, tilting your head, daring him to defy you. “Or do you have a problem with my demand?”

“N-no, ma’am,” he stammers, quickly shaking his head. Then, after a brief hesitation, his voice turns more confident. “No hands,” he instructs, watching you carefully. “Do whatever you want, just don’t use your hands.”

A wicked grin spreads across your lips. You love a challenge.

Obliging, you lower yourself between Jungkook’s thighs, letting your tongue flick out to deliver the lightest kitten lick along his length. It’s so brief, so teasing, yet powerful enough to make his whole body tense. You repeat the motion, each barely-there touch making him groan in frustration, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

And you? You’re just getting started. But, if you’re being honest, you could use a little attention yourself.

"Hmm. I don’t think this is working for me," you muse, pushing yourself to your feet with a sigh of faux disappointment. Your gaze sharpens as you look down at Jungkook. "Move up against the headboard."

He obeys without question, shuffling back until his toned back meets the plush pillows, kicking off the last of the fabric clinging to his ankles. His darkened, lust-filled eyes track your every movement.

You crawl forward on your hands and knees, slipping between his legs until your body is back in its previous position, your breath warm against his heated skin.

"Jimin?" you purr, flicking your tongue out to tease the thick head of Jungkook’s length, reveling in the way his thighs tense beneath you. "Be a doll and fuck me with those gorgeous fingers of yours while I take my time enjoying your friend a little longer."

→Taglist: want to be notified when i post the full fic? join my taglist here!

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thesweetnessofspring · 1 year ago

Text

Post-epilogue Everlark family. Rated G.

"You know those pancakes were supposed to be for all of us, right?" their daughter asks her brother with a roll of her eyes.

The boy looks up from the stack of pancakes he's doused in maple syrup and sliced into. He's thirteen now, growing stout before he grows tall as he has in the past, but this appetite is a first.

"I'll make more," Katniss says. "It's a Saturday so you don't have anywhere to be."

"I do," their son says through a mouthful of the pancakes. "Me and Johnny are going to collect some seeds in the forest, see if we can get any to grow in our garden here."

"You going to add sketches of the seeds in the plant book?" Peeta asks. "We haven't added much about seeds into it yet."

The boy straightens up at the invitation, but his mother frowns as she mixes the flour and milk to make a batter. "That book is delicate. I don't want anyone messing with it now."

"I'd be careful," their son insists, to which his sister rolls her eyes.

"Maybe you can start up your own book," Katniss says, trying to encourage him. He shrugs at this suggestion and goes back to eating his pancakes.

"What plants will you be looking for?" Peeta asks, trying to steer the conversation away. Their son starts making a list, but this voice has lost any brightness it usually has when talking about the woods and all of his observations and experiments with it. Katniss pours out the batter into round circles on the pan, waiting for them to bubble before flipping it over, trying not to feel guilty about the way she cut their son down. Only there's so little left of her father, and the boy's still young. Still needs to improve his drawing, especially considering he didn't have his father's natural talent. Hard work and an interest in making notes about all of his discoveries about the woods.

By the time a new platter of pancakes makes it to the table, the boy's up and washing up his dish and then ready to head out the door.

"Don't you forget a jacket!" Katniss calls after him from the kitchen table.

"Aw, Momma, I don't need a jacket!" he insists, nearly at the back door, but Katniss gives him a look and he groans, then goes to the coat rack. Only when he puts his jacket on, the zipper is starting to look snug across his belly.

"Wait just a minute there," Katniss says and walks across the floor. "That jacket just won't do."

And she picks up a soft brown leather jacket, cut to the fit of a man who loved the woods, who observed it and listened to it, and found in it not just survival, but home. When their son sees what she's holding out for him to wear, his eyes get big.

"Grandpa Everdeen's jacket?" he asks.

"That's right," Katniss says, holding in her emotions. "Might still be a bit roomy on you, but that's never stopped me from wearing it."

Their son turns around and Katniss helps him into the sleeves, then smooths the material against his shoulders. Somehow her baby boy is getting nearer to being a man, older than she was when she started wearing this jacket for comfort. But after all these years, she's glad to pass this part of her father onto her son.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #thg fanfiction #toast babies #everlark family

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4kimji · 9 months ago

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Can u make a part 2 smut for the 7 minutes one? Btw, thank you!! The fic was so cute😭

-🎀

im sososo sorryyy for the long wait nonieee ! hope you enjoy :3

seven seconds pt.2 ꒰ ᐢ. .ᐢ ꒱ ₊ ˚

pairing: sub!hanni x reader genre: humor, smut warnings: not reread (i haven't wrote in months..), fingering, quickie, edging

the noisy yelling and music downstairs is nowhere near close to interrupting your friend group. it's been a while since all 5 of you hung out, but you would've never thought you'd be trapped in danielle's bedroom for the meetup.

"uhh dani, why can't we go downstairs to the living room...? like normal people?" minji asks, visibly confused. "unless you guys want me to yell instead of simply talking, then sure, let's go downstairs!" danielle replies sarcastically.

minji rolls her eyes before taking another sip of her beer, not wanting to combat danielle's sassiness. the group takes another big silenced pause, everyone's eyes darting back and forth at one another.

haerin decides to break the scary silence first. "why don't we play a game, like we always do?" the room fills with hums of approval and head nods from everyone. "so i guess it's 7 minutes then?" hanni speaks up, ending with an awkward chuckle.

minji finishes chugging her beer, in order for the group to use the bottle. "y/n, why don't you spin this time?" hyein suggests. your hands hesitate for a few moments before reaching for the bottle. it spins for a good 10 seconds before the opening lands on her. hanni.

"ugh again? they already did it last time we hung out!" danielle complains. "it's whatever." haerin shrugs. "just let them go again, it's only 7 minutes." hanni looks up at you with fretful eyes, waiting for the group to leave. "ok you two, we'll be back in 7!" minji slurs before closing the door behind her and the 3 girls.

the silence in the room is sharp, as it's just you two left on danielle's carpet. "so.. it's been a while." you start. hanni perks up from the sound of your voice. "y-yeah, i guess you're right." she replied, her sight never leaving your lips.

you decide to take the risk and lean in to kiss hanni, her lips moving almost automatically to kiss you back. your hand wraps around her nape, deepening the kiss between you two.

hanni pulls away from the kiss to get up from the floor and lock the bedroom door. you decide to follow when she sits on the edge of danielle's mini couch. your hands trail down to her jean zipper, pulling it down slowly to tease hanni.

she mutters something under her breath, but that was the least of your worries. hanni helps you pull down her jeans, revealing her soaked panties.

her legs are already spread, waiting for what you'll do next. you both knew there wasn't much time left until the game ended. "please... hurry." hanni whimpers. you let the cold air in the room hit her cunt before you shove your fingers into her.

she lets out a loud moan before covering her mouth with her hand, in order not to make noise. your fingers insert in and out of her sloppy cunt. a smirk takes over as your expression as you can hear her muffles moans caused by her stiff hand.

she grinds her hips into your two fingers, trying to feel more friction against your hand since your pace has slowed down. you decide to speed up again so she could get closer to her orgasm.

"fuck, i'm so close." hanni whines. you slow down your pace once more, in order to really send her over the edge. you guys were honestly in your own world until you heard knocks at the door, forgetting the door was locked.

you swiftly remove your fingers from hanni's sloppy cunt, wiping her slick on your clothed thigh. it draws a sob out of her, "w-what are you doing?" she asks, confused. hanni was so close to her orgasm, but she couldn't cum.

the knocking grows louder and more aggressively, added on with twists and turns of the doorbell. "guys! open up, the timer is finished!", danielle yells.

#newjeans #newjeans hanni #newjeans imagines #newjeans smut #hanni x reader #hanni smut #hanni imagines #hanni #pham hanni #hanni scenarios

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daintcas · 1 year ago

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can you write something where you go into mean!rafes tent when you’re camping with friends late at night, claiming you heard a noise but he doesn’t believe you and he discovers you’re true intentions was just to get in his pants🙏

oh my god this is so creative 😭 switched it up just a lil but i think it still fits ur idea !! apologies it took me so long to finally get around to it!

the leaves crunch under your feet as you approach the insanely massive and luxurious tent just a few feet from your own.

you knew it was risky since everyone else was already asleep in their equally as expensive sleeping arrangements. it must have been the long night of partying around a bonfire because the only sound filling your ears were the crickets lingering at the nearby creek.

with nobody to interrupt your poorly thought out and drunken plan - after a few too many hard seltzers - you slowly unzipped what you were pretty sure was the zipper of rafe's tent. in all honesty, you didn't know him. he was just one among many guys a mutual friend invited, but you were coherent enough to recognize the suggestive glances he spared you.

you bit your lip while carefully stepping inside, attempting to minimize the ruffle of the uncomfortable material. it's pitch black in the tent - which is tall enough for you to stand at your full height. that is until the light of a phone screen exposes you standing in the unwelcome space.

"the fuck are you doing?" the voice is low and mean, clearly irritated at the invasion.

blinking your eyes open and looking straight into the only source of light, you pause for a moment before remembering the excuse you prepared earlier. "i, um— there was a noise. i thought it was coming from here?"

a scoff is what you get in return and the click of a lantern replaces the accusing spotlight from the device. that's when you get a good look at him, clad in grey sweats and a dark hoodie, socks bunched at his ankles. "a noise?"

blinking your heavy eyelids and looking up at him through your lashes, you can't help but feel adrenaline at the sarcasm in his tone. the drinks weren't working in your favor, that's for sure.

"mhm," you all but bob your head "in— in here. a noise." the amusement spreading across his face in the form of a smirk seals the deal, suddenly making you feel so small under his tall stature steadily approaching.

"riiight.." he draws out, raking in your form just like he had been before, but this time really taking it slow. from your fluffy socks up to the tiny victoria secret boxers, up to the lace bra peeking out from under your baggy sweatshirt.

if a cold night in the woods didn't give you goosebumps, his gaze certainly did. you let him encroach on your space, eyes glued to his face and tilting your head back to keep contact.

"you lyin'?" he finally questions, though his expression shows he already knows the answer - and already knows how you intend on responding.

"no.." you reply in a weak effort to keep up your story and use your hands to symbolize a crash as you add, "it was like a.. like a bang!"

his smile is a bit softer before returning to the menacing way it was before and he nods along with a taunting hum. nodding his head to end the discussion you both knew ended before it started, he acknowledges you directly. "why don't you tell me why you're really in here? not very safe sneaking around at night, is it?"

with a defeated sigh, you shake your head, tucking some hair behind your ear and standing calmly in a way you normally wouldn't if sober and well-rested.

a million thoughts run through his mind of exactly how this situation could play out as he tongues at his cheek and watches you closely. eventually deciding to think with the tent in his pants rather than the one sheltering the two of you, he leans right in your face and nudges your chin up to face him with the knuckle of his pointer finger.

"i'm sure your lil tent is cold, huh? why don't you uh— let me keep you warm, hm?" he offers while letting the scenarios run wild in his head. a pretty girl willingly bringing herself to him in the middle of the night, secluded, with nobody else in earshot.

it's like that's all you were waiting for because an eager yet still sweet and innocent smile finds your face. only able to squeak out a "'kay" before he's leading you gently by your upper arm to an air mattress - as of now still completely inflated.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron prompt

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sparkly-sediment · 6 months ago

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A suggestion for you. The mercs’ s/o massage their chest and the mercs find out they really like that.

If not all then maybe Engineer, Soldier and Sniper :)

ik this isn’t what you’re looking for but

Tf2 Heavy chest hair ripped out headcanons

He’s just an ordinary bear going about his day

Scout, the bastard child, born out of wedlock, is constantly blowing air

Heavy doesn’t give a fuck! He actually like Scout, the kid reminds him of himself as a young man if he wasn’t beaten down by war

It’s after work but pre shower. Everyone is sweaty and grimy and Medic practically has a hard on from the smell of blood

The mercs are crowded in the bathroom but Heavy doesn’t mind. He’s lived in horribly cramped spaces where the only running water was a spicket (which was frozen shut most days)

In communal showers, it’s common decent to not watch someone strip. Every if you’re comfortable with playing with each other’s dicks you still look away for a split second

Unless you’re a fucking freak like most of the mercenaries

Heavy drops his draws and goes to take off his pull over. At the same time, that little scunt Scout is trying to outrun Demo, who is trying snap his ass with a towel

Demo has a lethal whip if I may add

Scout sideswipes Heavy as Heavy has his arms above his head to pull off the sweater

During this critical moment, his Siberian bush of chest hair snags in the zipper. Heavy keeps pulling. Heavy howls and the room stills

GAGGED THEM BITCHES GOOD LIRD Heavy never tweaks out!! He’s big and will Fuck You Up but at his heart is a kind man! An older brother to three strong sisters!!

Heavy swears profusely in Russian. When he puts his arms down, there’s a tiny bald patch visible on his chest and the crowd goes wild. Imagine having your chest hair ripped out and eight other nutjobs start cackling sobbing smacking each other

But they are naked and the slapping stops once Soldier hits to close to a supple ass cheek

Basically, Heavy is fuming for the rest of the shower. Scout does not shower and instead hides and Demo backs up like “ay man don’t hurt papi”

Medic absolutely sticks his finger in the hair hole during sex and they do stop for the night (five minutes then they start freakin)

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 headcanons #tf2 medic #tf2 scout #spy tf2 #tf2 solly #heavy tf2 #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #heavy x medic #heavymedic #the original ask made me deeply uncomfortable

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vanfleeter · 2 years ago

Text

In Your Dreams // JTK

Characters: Jake x Fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ as always. Sex. P in V. Anal sex. Use of sex toys. Teasing. Edging. Masturbating. Dom!Fem. Sub!Jake. Vice versa. Language. Praise. I probably missed something so let me know.

Author's Note: There is quite literally no editing for this so take it as it is. I threw it together right before soccer practice, I'm not joking.

Leaning against his dresser, one hand rubbing his jaw and the other palming himself through his jeans, he watches you intently as you slowly undress. Each move slowly killed him. Though the whimper he lets out as he watches you doesn’t hinder him from thinking of all the ways he’s going to fuck you once you allow him to touch you.

“Are you alright over there?” You call over your shoulder. “Aside from your whimpering, I assume you are.”

“Quit playing around..” You hear him growl.

Slowly you over your shoulder, the one you graciously and slowly exposed to him as you pushed your shirt off of it. “Or what?” You say, taking in every inch of the man. His eyes give off anger and lust and that’s when you know you have him right where you want him. Well that and the fact that the bulge beneath his pants suggest that he’s been in that very spot for a while. “I told you that you were going to watch me.”

“Will I get to touch you at all?”

You shrug and drop your shirt to the floor. “I don’t know–haven’t decided yet.”

“Is there anything I can do to help you decide that I can?”

You turn to face him, your breasts on full display for him. You lean against the bed and mimic his posture, one hand resting on your chin while the other one finds refuge between your legs.

“Touch yourself.”

“I am.”

You shake your head. “No.. Touch yourself. Come on now, Jacob. Free yourself. I just know it can’t be comfortable with your pants being so fucking tight right now.”

You watch carefully as he undoes his belt and drops it to the floor before making haste to undo the buttons of his pants and drawing down the zipper. Hooking his fingers beneath the waistband, he pushes them down and shimmies them off of his ankle. You smirked seeing that he opted for no underwear tonight.

“Why are you always commando?”

He smirks. “Makes for easy fucking. Less fabric in the way.”

“Oh? And you think you’re gonna fuck me tonight?”

“Am I not?” He says as he wraps his fist around his length and strokes it slowly from the very bottom to the tip and repeats.

“Oh Jakey.. I wish you could but you’ve been such a bad boy tonight.”

“How so?”

You cock your head to the side as you massage your clit. His eyes never leave that spot. “You were such an asshole to Sam at the studio.”

“Mmmm.. Well if he had stayed on beat, I wouldn’t have to yell at him.”

“There was also the argument with Josh.. Jakey, I know this is your band, you formed it after all–but baby, no one likes a tyrant.”

“You do,” He says, tipping his chin towards you. “Or else you wouldn’t be dripping wet.”

“And do you know that?”

“Because I can hear it,” He says. “I know what it sounds like.” His movements start to pick up in pace, the tip of his dick beginning to leak just a little. His face grows a little redder as his teeth sink into his bottom lip. He’s getting close.

Oh how you love to watch him get off. It turns you on so much that combined with your own masturbation, it’s bringing you close to yours.

“Baby..” He whimpers. “Baby, can I please.. Can I please cum?”

“Oh how I love it when you beg.” You say, your breathing labored as you further yourself closer to your orgasm. “Fuck.. Jake…”

“Hold it.” You tell him.

“Fuck.. I can’t..” He groans.

“I said hold it.” You say demand. “Do you still want to touch me?”

He painfully nods his head. “Yes, yes I do.” He says.

You motion him over and he doesn’t hesitate to move towards you. You point to the floor. “On your knees baby.” He sinks to his knees in front of you, his cock throbbing and pulsing, just begging to have some kind of relief. “Oh you look so pretty on your knees.” Not once have you faltered in keeping time with your movements. “Jacob, baby, can you make me cum?”

“Let me taste you, please.”

Slowly you remove your fingers from inside of you and drag them over his lips. He moans as he traces his lips with tongue and licks up all of your slick. He rises on his knees and buries his face in between your legs. Feeling his tongue lick through your folds before darting in and out of you sends you in a whirlwind.

“Oh god… Jake… Baby, you make me feel so good..” Along with his tongue, he adds in a couple digits and stretches you. “That’s it, Jakey. Make mommy cum?”

He groans against your center, the vibration making you moan a d grip tightly to his hair. He always had a weakness for a mommy kink. Despite always being the one that is dominant and you being the submissive, striking that one chord always had him weak in the knees.

Working you closer and closer to your orgasm, you hold on tightly to his shoulders to keep yourself upright as he brings forth your orgasm. You can barely say his name as the warmth spreads through your body.

He doesn’t miss a drop and makes certain that he licks up every last bit of your release before he stands to his feet and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Regaining your balance, you reach for his hand and pull him to the bed where you sit him down.

“Oh Jakey, you look like you’re in pain.”

“You have no idea..”

You smirk and sink down to your knees this time. Gently you spread his legs and wriggle yourself in between them before taking his cock in one hand and slowly pumping him. He watches you with a slackened jaw and blown pupils. A groan emits from his throat when you sink your mouth down and around his cock.

“Shit.. Baby, you feel so good..” He lifts his hips, thrusting into your mouth. You push on his thighs, settling him back down onto the bed. Sticking your tongue, you lick him upwards until you reach his tip. His body shutters and you feel him twitch. He flinches as you cup your free hand around his balls. “Fuck, baby..”

You tap the inside of his thigh as you sink further down onto him until he’s touching the back of your throat.

In no time, you had him releasing into your mouth and you were drinking him up like you're sucking down a water bottle. A string of curse words fly from his mouth and he falls backwards on the bed. You pull your mouth off him and stand to your feet.

“Look at you..” You say, admiring him as he comes down from his high. His chest heaving and his lips moving with no words being uttered or heard. “Are you ready to bed fucked?”

He picks up his head to look at you. A dazed look clouding his eyes. “What?”

“Well, you wanted to act like a bitch today, I guess you can be fucked like one too.”

His eyes widen and his jaw drops. “My god, babe, what has gotten into you?”

You shrug your shoulders. “Considering who my partner is, I’ve learned a lot.”

“Then give me everything.”

“Fair enough.” You say as you turn on your heels and go over to the bench.

As you rummage around in the bottom drawer of Jake’s dresser, the one he keeps locked at all times, he makes himself comfortable at the top of the bed and nestling his head into the pillows. You turn back to face him while holding the strap in your hand.

“Ohh.. On your stomach.. Interesting..” You say before walking back over to the bed. “Doggie style, your favorite position.”

He hums a chuckle and turns his head to look over his shoulder. “I want to know how you feel when I bend you over like this. Does it feel good with your ass in the air when you wiggle it for me?” He says as he shakes his ass.

You let out a cackle and climb onto the bed. “You make it look so sexy.” You say. “And your ass is so plump and beautiful.” You squeeze his ass cheeks within your hands and he moans.

“Josh’s squats come handy.”

You giggle and lean back to retrieve the strap. Leaning over him, you hold the plastic, blue dildo out to him. “Make it wet baby.” He opens his mouth and you insert the toy. You watch him as he sucks and licks the dildo, making sure that it’s slick and wet. “Good job..” You say as you remove it and strap it on around your waist.

“Tell me your colors babe.” You say as you tease the tip of the dildo at his hole.

“Green is to keep going..”

“Mmhmm.”

“Yellow means to slow down.”

“And red?”

“Red means to stop.”

“Good job.” You say. “Are you ready?”

“Yes baby..” He moans. “Yes, I am so ready.”

Slowly you begin to push inside of him, his fists clenching tightly around the bed sheets as his eyes screw shut. “Color?”

“Green.. Fucking green..” You carefully pull out before pushing back in. “Holy shit..”

“Does it feel good Jakey?”

He viciously nods his head. “So good.”

Soon you pick up a steady pace as you fuck him. Little moans and whimpers escape his lips. You’ve become so wet yourself from the sight in front of you that you’re sure he’ll feel it drip on his legs that are entangled with yours.

“You look so beautiful..” You say, digging your fingers into his hips.

You can tell he’s getting some kind of friction and satisfaction as his dick rubs against the bed with each thrust you give. Once you know he’s close to his second orgasm, you pull out eliciting a whimper from him.

“Wh-Why’d you stop?”

“Because..” You toss the toy to the floor and turn him over. “I need you to fuck me..”

“Oh now I get to fuck you?”

“Jacob, I swear to god, don’t make me beg.”

“Don’t make me beg,” He mocks as he sits up and moves onto his knees. “Baby, I think all that power went to your head and you forgot just who.. I.. am.” He grabs you around your waist and tosses onto your back and moves his body in between your legs.

Lining up with his entrance, he wastes no time pushing inside of you making you both moan. “Damn, Jake..”

“Missed me, didn’t you?”

“So.. So bad..” You say as you wrap your arms and legs around his body and draw him closer to you.

“I have to admit,” He says without pausing his movements. “You’re not bad with the strap, decent even.”

You giggle and pull him in for a kiss. “I like you fucking me better.”

He hums and thrusts deeper inside of you. “So do I, baby.. So. Do. I–Fuck! Baby, I’m gonna cum..”

“Do it Jakey.” You say. “Fill me up.” He gives a few more thrusts before the both of you are releasing together. You chant his name over and over as he fucks you through your orgasm.

After some time, he pulls out of you and falls down beside you. “Can I just say.. That you, my love, are fucking sexy when you take charge?”

You turn over to face him. “Does that mean I can do it more often?”

He chuckles and softly grazes his knuckles over your cheek. “In your dreams.”

#jake kiszka #greta van fleet fic #jake kiszka fanfic #greta van fleet fanfic #jake kiszka fic #greta van fleet #jake kiszka smut

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lisacomeuseucu · 1 year ago

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Curses pt2

• Fear Street. 1978 - "I swear, if I could I would change their story, I would try to make them live" That's what she said to herself.

It's been three days since I arrived at the camp, I've been getting along with the main ones, especially Tommy and Ziggy, they're the people I get along with the most, Ziggy a day later came after me to thank me for saying those things to Sheila, but I said I just told her what she deserves. I'm helping some children with some drawings they're doing but I'm going to leave soon, I'm next to the chubby boy with glasses, I feel embarrassed for having forgotten his name but as he doesn't appear much in the film itself it was easy for me to erase him from my memory, the important thing is that I know the true focus of the story, I come out of my thoughts and look at the boy's drawing, his drawing is childish but very detailed, he made two drawings symbolizing Shadyside and Sunnyvale, which I genuinely find incredible, I come close and I crouch at his height. — " I loved your drawing! It would be a great idea for each city to have its own symbol. " I say to him with a big smile on my face, it's not the first time I've praised the things he does, it's sad that in the movie Don't show too much of his talent, he can be very intelligent in various activities, the boy gives a shy smile and looks at the drawing again, I noticed that his cheeks are pink, poor boy, he's a little shy. I leave the cabin and look around, children are running everywhere, I have to remember where Tommy is, I start to walk through the camp observing the details, children practicing archery, others are swimming in the lake, some children are playing hide and seek and others with their own games, from the corner of my eye I see Alice walking with her boyfriend, I start walking towards them, — "Alice! Where are you going?" I ask her, making the blonde turn to me, — " We're going after drugs in the infirmary, you better not tell anyone! " She points a finger in my direction and I make the zipper gesture over my mouth. — " Do you know where Tommy is? ". — " He must be doing homework with our perfect Cindy, why do you want to know about him? " She asks me, leaving me surprised, why do I want to see him? I stutter a little before responding. — " He's my friend, I want to talk to him. " I respond shyly as I start to scratch the back of my neck, Alice responds with an eye roll and goes back to walking with her boyfriend, I start walking back the cabin to see how the drawings are going when I bump into two people, Tommy and Cindy, both of them were hugging each other, — " Damn, sorry! I hadn't seen you, I was distracted, anyway, I was looking for you. Really sorry. I'm really sorry." I say with my hand on top of my chest, Cindy shakes her head in denial with a slight smile. — " It's okay, just be careful where you go. " She answers me gently. — " Why were you looking for us? " Tommy suddenly asks me. — " I wanted to spend some time with you, are you going to do anything? " I start to exchange glances from Tommy to Cindy, afraid of disturbing them. — "We're going to clean the cafeteria but if you want, you can accompany us." Cindy suggests with amusement, I quickly shake my head in agreement. — "They were very close to each other, I hope I didn't disturb any special moment." I make a sarcastic comment to try to liven up the atmosphere, Tommy laughs and then responds. — "Don't worry, you didn't disturb anything.". — "If I had gotten in the way, I would have been blaming myself all day." I answer him, smiling.

— " Miss Y/n! " I turn back when my name is called, I look down and find the same boy I praised, he has a paper in his hand. — "Ah! Hi! How can I help you?" I asked him with a gentle smile, he hands me the paper and then leaves as quickly as possible, leaving me completely confused. — "What was that?" Cindy asks me, I look at him in a daze and answer. — " II don't know... I wasn't expecting that. " I look at the paper in my hands and notice the drawing of a heart and my name written on it, — " Damn, you received a love letter! " Tommy says with a small laugh, Cindy looks at him in surprise, I start to open the paper seeing that there is a text for me to read. “Councillor Y/n, these last few days you've been making me nervous and with butterflies in my stomach, I think I've fallen in love with you, I think you're very pretty and friendly, I like being in your company. I understand that we are different ages but I still want to know if you want to be my girlfriend, Miss Y/n. " My eyes widen with each word I read out loud, Cindy is in complete shock while Tommy has an amused smile on his face, — " H/n did I receive a letter?! " I am startled by the sudden appearance of Alice in front of me, the blonde takes the paper from my hands and starts reading it, I get up and go towards her to get the letter back but she avoids it, meanwhile Tommy is having a fit of laughter as Cindy orders him to stop.

— " What are you going to do? Write another letter to the boy? " Alice asked ironically, — " No! I'm going to go after him and talk to him!! " I take the letter tightly, and put it in the pocket of my shorts, I look at it. them making an irritated face — " They shouldn't be laughing at him! It was cute, I think it's his first crush. " I scold them but I look at the floor, Cindy nods and starts talking — " She's right It's not right to make fun of us, we should talk to him and explain that we can't be together." She says looking at all of us, Alice just rolls her eyes while Tommy starts to nod, he looks like a dog always agreeing with its owner. Arnie has a smile on his face, trying to hold back his laughter, I start walking, leaving the place and looking for the boy. I've been looking for him for a few minutes now, luckily he signed his name on the paper, Jeremy, I'm sorry kid but his name is very easy to forget. I'm looking everywhere looking for him and so far I haven't found him, I think I'd better try to find him again in the cabin. The cabin is silent which means there is no one in it, for now, even so I enter, a silence cannot stop the boy from hiding here.

— "Jeremy? Are you here?" I call him to see if he appears, little by little I see half of his head appearing, he is hiding under the table, heading towards where the boy is, who is sitting on the floor hugging legs, an attitude that I believe is to hide my shame, I sit next to him looking at him, waiting for him to say something but nothing, ten seconds of silence that seem like hours. I sigh, preparing myself for what I'm going to say. — " I read your letter, I'm not mad at you, I don't want you to worry about it. " I start, Jeremy is already looking at me looking a little relieved. — " I understand you like me and are happy when I compliment you but I can't date you. " Jeremy quickly changes the direction of his gaze and starts looking at the ground. — " Jeremy, look at me. " I ordered, it took a few seconds before he looked at me again. — "I'm much older than you, it would be wrong on both sides, but I'm sure you'll find a girl your age that you'll be together with. Friends, ok?" I opened my arms, offering him a hug, Jeremy nodded in agreement and snuggled into my arms, I patted his head as a way of comforting him. — "Now let's get out of here, we'll be called to the cafeteria soon." I say while breaking the hug and standing up.

The day went by quickly, we went to the cafeteria and as soon as I sat down with the group they asked me what the whole conversation resulted in, I didn't expect them to ask all together at the same time, making me almost fall out of fright, I answered them summarizing everything I had said. It happened but the important thing was that everything had worked out in the end but Joan caught me by surprise asking me if I expected the letter to be from someone else.

— " But did you expect or expect to receive the letter from someone? Some boy? " For a moment paralyzed without any response, I was looking at the table but when I heard the question my eyes quickly went towards it. — "Well, you didn't tell us if there is any interest in anyone here at the camp, but if you don't want to tell us, that's fine! There's no need, right Joan?" Cindy tries to reassure me and discreetly threaten Joan, she rolls her eyes, we continue. putting herbs on a paper so he could smoke it, Tommy and Gary are silent but I can tell from their exchange of looks that they are both curious. My thoughts are racing, I didn't expect to receive a love letter, especially from a boy younger than me, but this doubt is in my head. Is there someone I want to receive something romantic from? It's really stupid that I start to have feelings for someone here mainly because of the end of the story, I certainly wouldn't receive a loving face from Kurt and I don't even want them to give me money! Alice certainly doesn't, she's dating, Ziggy doesn't either, much less Nick, Joan just wants to sit on Kurt, Gary, well... Probably not but if she did I'd reject it, Cindy I wouldn't be surprised but I know she has feelings for Alice, poor Tommy. Lastly, he was left, Tommy, the idea of him writing a letter to me sounds cute, I don't think it would happen, now if I would reject it... I don't know... I really have no idea.

A hand starts to pass in front of my face, making me jump in fright, I look at the owner of the hand and see that it's Tommy. — " Are you okay? You've been quiet for a long time looking at the table, I started to think I was seeing something on it. " Tommy asks me worriedly but tries to make me laugh, I let out a weak laugh. — " Yes, yes, I am, I just started thinking about the question. " I answer him, making him less worried. — "Hey? Do you already have an answer?" Joan asks me, Cindy kicked her legs making her let out a low "There!". — " Well, I don't think so, no one has caught my attention like that yet. " I try to formulate the best possible answer without it seeming like I'm trying to hide something, and I'm really not, Joan just shakes her head, I don't think he believes it a lot on me. I took a quick look to the side, I see that Tommy has a strange expression on his face, perhaps disappointment? I don't know, but his reaction wasn't one of the best, meanwhile Cindy just gave me a smile in response .

Now it's night and I'm lying in bed in my cabin, Tommy's reaction stays in my head, was he disappointed with my response? Why would he be disappointed? What if he wasn't disappointed? Was he mad? Do you think I lied? I don't understand you Tommy, sometimes your reactions are confusing, other than that you are a good friend, a great friend. Sometimes I wonder a little about your past, who were you before all those events? Who are you really? Your parents or if you have a brother, if they had talked about you in the films I would have been interesting. Leaving my thoughts, I get up from my bed and go look for some pajamas to put on, before I can get any clothes I hear the sound of someone knocking on the door, I imagine it's Alice coming after me wanting some drugs. — " Get out Alice! I have nothing! " I say in a good tone so that the person on the other side can hear, — " It's me! Tommy! " I hear a male voice answering me, I stop going through my things and look towards the door that has a small glass window and in it I could see Tommy's face, a boy who is normally always smiling and happy is different, his expression on his face is one of seriousness and sadness? Sadness is not the best word.

I walk towards the door and open it for Tommy, giving him space to enter, Tommy enters keeping his head down, he is wearing a red plaid sweater. He sits on my bed and lifts his head looking towards me who is still at the door. When I close the door, I go to my bed, sitting next to Tommy, I wait for him to start talking and then he starts. — " I'm sorry I came so suddenly, I needed to talk to someone. " He says while looking at the floor of the room, his voice sounds serious, I put my hand on his shoulder and answer him — " It's okay, Tommy, something happened?" I'm worried about the subject of this conversation, I don't know what will come out of it and that scares me, it scares me a lot. Tommy takes his eyes off the floor and looks at me. — " Lately I've been feeling these confused feelings and I can't understand them, I can't understand myself! You know those moments when you realize it's supposed to be like this? I wanted to know how you know it's supposed to be like this, like you can you know?" Tommy explains the situation he is in, he was waving his hands and stuttering as he tries to explain, he is nervous, he looks into my eyes in search of an answer. I take my hand off his shoulder and place it on his cheek, stroking it. — "When you know, you know. I've had this same question thousands of times and I didn't know an answer either, but after a long time I understood, when it's supposed to be, you'll know." They watch me carefully, their gauze is softer than when they entered here. — " I understand, thanks for telling me. " He smiles, that same sweet smile he always has. — " Don't thank me. " I smile back at him, a deep exchange of glances begins to happen, our eyes never leaving each other, just looking deep into each other's soul, his eyes are like a deep sea in which I love to stay observing. Tommy comes close to me and hugs me tightly, I hug him even tighter, I smell his perfume on his plaid blouse. — " You better go before they find us and they think we're doing something stupid. " I whisper in his ear, I feel his body shaking with laughter, he lets go of me and nods and gets up heading towards the door but Before he can leave him looks at me. — "See you tomorrow." He says with a smile on his face, — "See you tomorrow." I respond, I see him leave my room and walk to his chalet. Maybe I'm just a little, a little bit, in love, but I hope not.

It's morning and I'm at the infirmary door, I sigh before opening the door. — " Infirmary Lane?! " I call out her name looking for the woman, I see her appear in the hallway after my call, — " Hi y/n, how can I help you? " The nurse asks me kindly with a smile on her face, — "I think I need a doctor." I say a little nervously, the nurse changes her expression to one of confusion. — " I'm not a doctor but I think I can help you, what happened? " She leads me to the stretcher room and makes me sit on one of them. — "My symptoms aren't that simple, no. I feel butterflies in my stomach, my hands get sweaty, I'm always distracted in my thoughts, I feel hot as if I have a fever." I answer her while fidgeting with my hands nervously, the nurse lets out a laugh which makes me look into her eyes. — " My diagnosis is that you're in love. " I raise my eyebrows in surprise, I admit that I thought it could be that but I don't want to believe it, I can't let myself be a fool. — " Is there no way to reverse it? " I ask her, making her laugh again. — No, but I recommend you find out who the boy is. " She responds with a gentle smile on her face, taking my hands and squeezing them gently so they don't hurt, I just nod my head. As I leave the ward I come face to face with Tommy talking to one of the children, noticing my figure he automatically smiles and waves his hand. Oops! I think I'm sick again.

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