#just bc a few pictures feature a skirt

[mcnecklong]

Weeding out the weak men from dating apps like a particularly violent holder of a weasel weed whacker

[theoreticaltranstherian]

ARTISTS! PICREW FOLKS! ECT!

I have a challenge.

I am going to, using my magical powers of description and poetic word choice, describe myself.

You should try to draw/make me based on what I describe and mention me in the post/reblog this post with the picture!

No pressure but if you see this and aren't an artist but know someone who may be, perhaps reblog and mention them? Just if you don't mind :)

However, do not (and I can't stress this enough) use AI art for this. I do not support the use of AI art at all and I do not want to interact with jt whatsoever

(it's gonna be in the third person bc I can write like that better)

(also sorry for my weird similies)

He stood there in front of the mirror, somehwat awkwardly, observing himself. He was 5'6 - no idea why he had that memorized, but oh well - and built like a tree. That is, if that tree was in fact not a tree but a stick with limbs. He had Fluffy red hair that fell to his shoulders when it was wet but rested normally a few inches above. How he hated that hair; Utterly untameable and never sat quite right. He had disproportionately long legs, not so much that it stood out normally, but if it was mentioned you could see it and when wearing skirts or shorts his long expanse of leg seemed to stretch on forever. He had very little muscle, and as he flexed experimentally in the mirror, he snorted - He looked like he was built with pencils. His shoulders and hips were the same width, that is to say quite narrow and somewhat awkwardly thin; it matched the rest of him, but he couldn't help but wish that he was bulkier. His neck was functional if not a little short. Attached to it, as with most humanoids, was his head. He wore thick rimmed round glasses both because they had to be with how thick his lenses were and they hid more of his face, which he was quite insecure about anyway. His ears were ever so slightly uneven, leading to his glasses never quite sitting right on his face and usually resting on his nose. Oh, his nose; the only thing he didn't despise about his face. Not that it was a specifically good nose - One of the nostrils were a bit bigger than the other and it was sort of small - but it looked the least weird out of all his facial features. Resting below his nose was a septum ring, the same black one he'd had on since he got the piercing only because he couldn't be bothered to change it. Continuing down past his lightly freckled face was his mouth, as was to be expected. He had pale lips to match his equally pale skin, the two only differentiated by a slight pink tinge on the former and the assumption that he was not in fact a snake and did have lips. He had eyebrows slightly darker than his hair, although to tell the truth he sometimes would use mascara to make them darker because of his fragile masculinity and his need to fit traditional male standards of appearance so as not to be misgendered. His face overall was the shape of one of those Japanese watermelons that had started to become squared but only very barely before escaping its clear plastic prison. He wasn't insecure about his height, but that didn't stop him from always wearing platforms; he just liked how they looked. He was currently wearing his favorite outfit, consisting of a black tank top that went a few inches up his neck, an olive and dark green striped button up not fulfilling its namesake over top, and some pale dark green cargo pants. He hated wearing jewelry, as it was just one more thing to lose, but he always had on a chain with a gold ring holding a small clock face; His partner had asked him out with it, and he kept it with him because he knew if he set it down in his dump of a room it would be lost to the ether the second he looked away. He also had his ears pierced, but rarely wore earrings and instead always had on a pair of headphones to help with the constant anxiety from noise. He had tried to wear headphones with earrings in the past but found it extremely uncomfortable. As he stepped back from the mirror, he realized his internal monolog was extremely monotonous, and decided to stop observing himself.

Thank you to @annotated-catastrophe for the original idea!!!!

[robin-buckleys-burner-account]

kiss me

pairing: nancy wheeler x fem!reader | word count: 2k | warnings: none, kissing (?)

summary: when you go to nancy’s to help her edit an article for the hawkins high paper, you find it hard to control the feelings you’ve been harboring for her.

author’s note: okay so i’m very excited bc this is my first queer fic!! that being said, i don’t have any experience with being in a queer relationship, so if there’s anything that i can do to make this a better representation of a queer/wlw relationship, please let me know!! also the idea and title for this fic comes from kiss me by sixpence none the richer so listen to that while reading this if you’d like!! also i apologize for the fact that this isn’t heavily edited or proofread. i plan to come back and edit any mistakes later

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

“Hello?” your voice rang out as you entered the Wheeler home. You looked about, your eyes scanning the room, not seeing anyone in the house. Your gaze flitted down to your watch, making sure you had the right time. You were a few minutes early, you realized, and you hoped that you weren’t intruding. Maybe you should go wait in your car for a bit. You felt yourself pulling back, beginning to move towards your car, before you made a split-second decision and hesitantly let yourself into the house. Thankfully, you were greeted moments later as Nancy walked into the room.

“Oh, hi!” she said with an embarrassed chuckle, “I didn’t hear you come in.” Her cheeks were dusted with a pink flush, and her hair fell in damp curls around her face. “Sorry, I look a mess, by the way. I took a shower before you got here and sort of lost track of time, I guess. Hence the hair and the outfit,” she explained, running the tips of her fingers along her brown curls and gesturing to her clothes.

You grinned at her and shook your head. “No, it’s okay,” you assured her, “You look cute. It’s like I’m seeing a whole new Nancy.”

Your statement really was no exaggeration. Where Nancy was normally put together with her skirts and blouses arranged just so, she now looked relaxed, like she was in her natural state. She was clad in a faded pair of jeans, small rips and frayed threads visible along the seams from years of wear and tear. Along with this, a faded Hawkins High sweatshirt from your freshman year hung loosely on her frame. It was the least Nancy-like thing she’d ever worn, but somehow she never looked more herself.

“Oh, um, thank you,” she replied. The blush on her cheeks deepened, and she briefly turned away in an attempt to hide her bashfulness. She pursed her lips as she paused for a moment before speaking again, “We can look at the article in my room, or we can go in the dining room, if you’d rather that.”

“Your room is fine,” you told her with a shrug of your shoulders, “It’s up to you.”

She gave a quick nod of her head and smiled softly at you, “Okay. My room it is.” She turned towards the stairs, and you followed her, climbing up the steps. As she reached the top of the second story, she cast a look over her shoulder, making sure you were behind her as she walked towards her room.

As she opened the door, you looked around the room, taking in all the posters and pictures that covered her pink walls. You smiled at the quilt and frilly sheet that covered her bed. You’d seen it plenty of times before, but you still found it so endearing that Nancy’s room maintained its girlish decor from her younger years. It gave the space a comforting and nostalgic feel that was a true testament to her sentimental nature.

“What?” she asked, noticing the grin that painted your features.

Snapping out of your daze, you shook your head. “Nothing. I’ve just always liked this room. It feels very… you,” you told her very matter-of-factly as your shoulders rose and fell. Your eyes met hers, and you gave her a small smile.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she quipped, unable to hide the smirk on her lips.

She moved to the corner of the room, grabbing her book bag and rummaging through it. A few moments later, she turned back towards you, papers in hand. “Alright, so here’s the piece. I think it’s okay, but I’d just feel a lot better if I had someone else look over it,” she explained, sitting on the edge of her bed.

You felt the mattress dip beneath you as you came to sit beside her, taking the papers into your hands. “I’m sure it’s fine, Nance. Besides, can’t you just sort of publish whatever you want? I mean, you are the editor for the school paper.”

She rolled her eyes at your comment, though you could see a sense of amusement in her face. “Technically, yes, but I don’t want to just put anything on there. I want to make sure whatever I write is good,” she explained.

A small chuckle left your lips at her words. “Anything you write is good,” you reassured, “Hell, it’s better than good. You really have a gift for this kind of thing.” Your fingers mindlessly wandered over the pages, flipping each one to reveal the endless paragraphs they held.

A pink blush painted Nancy’s cheeks. “Thanks. I think you’re a really good writer, too,” she gushed, “You’re probably the best in our grade.” She shyly looked to you, and you could see the sincerity in your eyes.

“I don’t know about that,” you responded, “But thanks. It, uh, means a lot to hear that from you.” Your cheeks adopted a red hue, nearly matching hers.

“You really should try writing for the paper sometime,” she said quietly, her eyes flitting hopefully to meet yours. “I know the editor pretty well, so I’m sure I could get you a spot,” she joked.

You softly giggled at her comment, laughter bubbling from her throat to join yours. “Yeah, maybe so,” you answered, amusement still coloring your voice. Your eyes held her gaze, your smile slowly fading the longer peered into each other. In that moment, you could feel your body being pulled towards her. It was like there was an uncontrollable magnetism about her. Your eyes glanced down at her lips, and they looked so full and soft. You wondered what they felt like, how they’d feel against yours.

But before you could close the gap between you and find out, you felt yourself back. It was a small movement, barely even noticeable, but it was enough for the moment to end. Your eyes moved to the paper in your hands, feeling embarrassed and cursing yourself for being such a coward. You’d known Nancy for the better part of four years, becoming close friends as you went through high school, but you still froze up at the chance to turn your friendship into something more.

Trying to move past your own awkwardness, you read the first few lines of the article, searching for something you can comment on. Finally, you cleared your throat, “Um, I don’t think you need a comma here.” You touched your fingertip to the paper, pointing to a particular sentence. “I mean, I know that’s like a minor thing, but I figured I’d bring it up since we’re editing it,” your voice was meek and frail as you said it, sounding nothing like yourself.

Nancy’s eyes flitted to yours, quickly looking away as they met your gaze. She nodded her head, gently taking the paper from you. A small shiver ran through you as her fingers brushed against yours. “Okay…” she whispered, grabbing a pencil and marking the page before handing it back to you.

As you began to read farther into the piece, you found the previous awkwardness melting away, being replaced by a comfortable silence as you worked together. Occasionally you would speak up, pointing to certain phrases or spelling mistakes to change. She would hum in return, nodding and making her edits on the page.

As you became more and more focused on the task at hand, you started to get increasingly annoyed with the strands of hair that kept falling in your face. Frustrated, you took the scrunchie from your wrist, pulling your hair back.

After a few more moments of you reading through the article, you heard Nancy clear her throat. “You know,” she said quietly, “your hair looks really pretty like that, all pulled up.”

You could feel heat spread across your cheeks as you looked at her. “Really?” you asked, “You think so?”

She slowly nodded, “Mhm. You’re the prettiest girl I know.” Your eyes scanned her face, and you could tell that she meant every word.

“Thanks,” you answered, trying to contain the beating of your heart as it pounded in your chest, “I, um, I think you’re really pretty, too. Beautiful, actually.” You glanced down at her lips, wanting so badly to pull them against your own.

“Beautiful?” she repeated, her voice coming out in a small whisper. She scanned your face, and you noticed that her eyes lingered upon your lips. You felt yourself slowly begin to lean towards her, and you prayed that you weren’t imagining her leaning forwards, too.

You carefully nodded, afraid that any movement would break the moment, “Mhm. Beautiful, gorgeous, angelic. You name it.” You couldn’t hide the smile that danced across your lips as you found yourself even closer to her. She smelled of vanilla and brown sugar. It was intoxicating and sweet, just like her.

Just as your lips were an inch away from hers, looked up to catch her gaze. Your voice came out in a soft whisper, “Can I-”

But your question was cut short, as Nancy pulled you into her, closing the gap between you. Your body froze in shock before you melted into her touch. Her lips moved against yours in a movement so harmonious it could only be described as perfect. You sighed against her as your hands moved to her waist, clinging to her, desperate to hold onto her and know that this moment was real. Her hands wandered into your hair, letting it down and running her fingers through your locks.

You stayed entangled in her for what seemed like a lifetime, but somehow felt all too short as your lips left hers. Her chest rose and fell as she regained her breathing, yours doing the same. You let one hand remain on her waist, bringing the other one up to push a strand of hair behind her ear. As your eyes met hers, the two of you erupted into a fit a giggles, positively giddy on the affection radiating between you.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” she breathed out. She looked more beautiful than ever, her eyes bright and her lips red and swollen, matching the crimson hue that painted her cheeks.

“Really?” you asked, disbelief coloring your voice. You couldn’t believe that this was really happening. You had never imagined that she’d feel the same way.

She eagerly nodded, “Mhm. Ever since I met you.” Her hand rested against your cheek, pulling you into another quick kiss. “God, you’re irresistible,” she sighed.

You smiled into the kiss, playfully squeezing her waist. “I could say the same for you,” you teased, laughter tumbling from your lips. She joined you, giggles flowing from her in a beautiful symphony. You stayed close to each other, breathing in each other’s air and basking in the love shared between you. Your eyes slowly drifted down to the discarded papers, scattered on the floor. You looked back up to Nancy.

“So, about that article…” you began before a loud laugh tumbled from her lips. Her thumb brushed against your cheek, and she pulled you in for another kiss.

“Forget about the article,” she breathlessly mumbled against you, “Just kiss me.” You happily obliged, pushing everything else to the back of your mind, focusing on the girl in your arms and how lucky you were to have her. She was like a drug to you, beautiful and all-consuming. To hold her and be with her was to get lost in her, and in this moment you hoped to never be found.

You pulled away from her, gasping. “Do you want to be my girlfriend?” you asked her breathlessly, earning a bubble of laughter from her.

“Does this answer your question?” she quipped, bringing her lips to yours.

A huge grin marked your face as you pulled away. “God, I have the coolest girlfriend ever,” you breathed, sending the both of you into a fit of laughter.

“Yeah, mine isn’t too bad either,” she replied, taking your hand in hers, “You wanna go grab some dinner? Make it a date?”

You nodded. “Sure thing,” you answered, following her out the door. As you watched her curls bounce in front of you, you smiled to yourself. She really was the girl of your dreams.

[chamaleonsoul]

hi ana <3 could we have your fashion enthusiast thoughts about milan luke pretty please?

Hiiiiiiiii

an opportunity to ramble about two of my favourite topics??? Thank you!! And also another excuse to scroll through my gallery looking at pictures of Luke that make my cry and wonder how i haven't been admitted into a mental institution yet? THANK YOU. Also, i'll do you one better and give you my professional thoughts about it 😌 (i'm still a few months away from graduating but idc!! fashion designers are made not graduated).

Okay sooooo, let's begin in chronological order shall we? First we have, the White Stripped Suit™:

This one is my Favourite visually (<-this will make sense later) for many various reasons. 1) While white is a colour that suits literally everyone, it's one of Luke's star colours since his colour profile is light (light eyes, skin & hair. This means light colours make him stand out [if that were possible, he is the sun in its human embodiment but whatever 🙄]), and I appreciate the person who assembled this outfit together because they knew what they were doing. Also, i have a liking for striped/grid fabrics, so.

2) While the fit is very modern (slim, simple and clean) the combo with the open collar shirt with print on the chest, chain necklaces + chest hair showing😵‍💫💫 make the whole look very 70's and i, a person who loves the sluttiness of that decade, like that very much.

3) I'm a big fan of the signature Luke Hemmings ring set™😵‍💫😵‍💫 + the double charm necklaces😵‍💫 in silver, with matching silver glittery eyeliner???😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 12/10.

This suit gets bonus points bc it's similar to one used by one of my favourite blorbos<333 Louis de Pointe du Lac in Interview with the Vampire (2022).

Overall, it's a simple outfit, but it's leaning towards a statement outfit (because of the almost total-white-look [the shoes break that but it's fine]) and i personally Love that🤍🤍

Then we have outfit #2:

Unfortunately I did not find many pics of this one? Sad bc i can't give it such a detailed analysis, but I can say that I love love love the sharpness dark colours bring to his features. And this black on black pattern/stripes over knitted shirt? Mwah. Once again a very harmonic and cool combination of colours + silver complements (makeup, jewerly) that fit him perfectly!! (And the way the pearls just sit on his neck like that? Absolutely ridiculous).

In spot #3 we have what sent me into cardiac arrest and almost made me throw my phone into the abyss (aka plaid purple outfit):

This one,,,,, this one right here🥲🥲🥲 First of all, it makes me so happy (as a Luke fan, as a designer and as a person) to see he's experimenting with clothes and image and the way he presents himself to the world. This is what modern fashion is made for!!! To help you find a visual representation of who you are!!! And it really makes me so sentimental to see this and remember things like that old tweet where he said he felt weird putting on lip balm and now here he is, daring to do so much more than that, enjoying himself, being happy– it just🥹🥹🥹 I cry.

Solely because of that, this could be my favourite one, but in addition we have:

-The punk touch of it all🖤 that i so love!! Starting with the plaid of course, then the chunky studed shoes with the usual delicate jewerly he uses layered with that industrial chain (and all the rings😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫).

-The loose fit of both the skirt and jacket makes me think he's comfortable experimenting but also not throwing himself head first, which is great!! The jacket is wide enough he can cover himself naturally if he feels the need to, and the long skirt is a safe new territory because it covers almost the same as pants do, and the pleates bring some texture/volume to the fit since he's not wearing a shirt (i feel so dizzy).

-Gorgeous matching hand bag!! I love seeing him with one don't text.

-Makeup is subtle but also matches the whole outfit (boy obviously enjoys an harmonic combo, he's just like me<3).

All that makes this outfit my favourite one because of what i'm getting from it<3 (although visually #1 is still my fave. There's just something about it that scratches my brain the right way).

Moving on to #4

Yet another star colour of his!!! (since his colorimetry is light+cool, blue is His colour). And this particular shade is very, very close to the colour of 2023, we love a superstar🌟 on trend.

This is what i call a standard Luke Hemmings, which means a casual combo of a nice 2 piece suit with a comfy/fun top and boots (can be alternated with tennis shoes). I'm obsessed with his shirt collection🥲

Of course i can't go by this one without making a reference to Miami Vice because come on. It's right there!! This fit is obviously looser and following the oversized trend that came (and that'll stay for a while) with quarantine and the whole 80's<3 revival. I also love me a good italian lapel ngl. So this outfit earns a #3 spot on the list!

And last but not least we've got:

This gorg plaid beige + black shirt combo of which I also didn't find many pics of :/ however, it's safe to assume this was a tank top situation with brown/black shoes to match.

Once again we have a beautiful set of rings that scorch my braincells<3 with a sky blue wristlet i want to steal immediately!! It's so pretty and i wonder what he keeps in his purses besides his phone and maybe some lip product. I don't need sleep, i need answers.

Anyways. While beige usually is considered a warm colour, this one in particular leans towards cool, which stays on line with all i've mentioned before ((:

I also like that the make up is a little more noticeable since the outfit is more subdued. This one is a #4 on the list, which weirdly makes the black jacket outfit last?? Surprising since i'm personally married to black, but whats a girl gonna do

And sooooo, overall i think the outfits are simple, comfortable and kinda classic even, but have a few modern touches that elevate them for the occasion🤍 I love that since I both personally and professionally prefer that mix of styles.

Not gonna apologize for the long ass response bc you brought this unto yourself!! Licherally!! Anyways, thank you for coming by and asking my thoughts, i really appreciate it🤍 (:

[fanfics4all]

Picture

Request: Yes / No hello! im sorry if this is too specific😭 just had this idea can u write a draco x fem reader where they’re like best friends but fancy each other and one day she’s on his bed and somehow he notices or sees she’s wet and teases her abt it but she’s like that bc she just saw a hot pic of him on her phone or sumn? and then he quickly took her phone and finds out its bc of him? and then SMUT PLEASE😭 we love details😼 thxx i love your writing!!! Anon

Requests are closed <3 Have a nice day/night

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader 

Word count: 2451

Warnings: Smut!

Y/N: Your Name 

Y/N/N: Your Nickname

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

Draco’s POV

I was in my room studying for the upcoming OWL’s and Y/N, my best friend, was sitting on my bed looking through her phone. She was supposed to study with me, but of course she just ended up on her phone. It was a little annoying, but she somehow always got amazing grades anyway. 

“You know we’re supposed to be studying and not on our phones.” I said, turning to face her. She rolled her eyes and continued to look at her phone. 

“Oh please Draco, we both know I’ll be perfectly fine.” She said and I rolled my eyes. 

“It would be nice to have someone to help me.” I mumbled. “You’ll be fine too Draco.” She said, not paying attention to anything I was really saying at this point. I watched her adjust her position and saw that I could see up her skirt. I blushed slightly and went to look away, but I noticed that she was wet. 

“Somethings got you all hot and bothered ay Y/N/N?” I asked and she looked at me with wide eyes. She quickly closed her legs and blushed deeply. 

“What on earth could have you so turned on at this moment?” I asked with a smirk and walked over to her. I reached for her phone, but she moved it out of my reach. 

“Piss off Draco!” She said, still blushing bright red. 

“Let me see!” I said with a huge smirk. The two of us wrestled over her phone for a few moments, but I ultimately won. I unlocked her phone and found what she was looking at. It was a picture of me. My eyes widened and I looked up to find Y/N blushing an even deeper shade of red. 

“Y-You were getting turned on because of me?” I asked, still in shock that my best friend since we were kids was actually getting horny because of me. 

“You’re very attractive Draco, you can’t blame a girl…” She mumbled. 

“You think I’m attractive?” I asked with a smirk. 

“Shut up! This is embarrassing enough already!” She said and I chuckled slightly. I placed her phone on my bedside table and sat next to her on my bed. She looked over at me, a blush still clear on her features. I gently pulled her face to mine and kissed her. At first she was shocked, but she recovered after a moment and kissed me back. Her lips tasted sweet, just the way I always thought they would. I gently pushed her back onto the bed and deepened the kiss. I pushed my leg in between hers and smirked when I felt her wetness on my knee. She moaned as I pushed my knee into her a bit and held me closer. 

“Please Draco…” She whimpered when we pulled apart for air. 

“I need you to do something for me first.” I said and sat up on my knees. I undid my belt and pushed my pants down along with my boxers, to reveal my erection. Her eyes widened at my size, but smirked. 

“I see I turned you on too.” She said and leaned down so her mouth was only an inch from my mouth. 

“You did, now it’s time you take care of it.” I said and she smirked up at me. 

“Yes sir.” She said and immediately doce her head down and took me into her mouth, no hesitation. It was incredible, but I never, ever thought this would be happening with her. What excited me even more was that I had this beautiful girl that was intent on pleasuring me. I was the focus in this moment. I was the one being taken care of, but of course I was going to return the favor. 

I watched as she bobbed her head up and down my dick. Then it really started to set in how amazing this was actually feeling. Y/N knew how to suck cock, but to my knowledge she’s never done anything with anyone before. Yet, here she was, sucking me like a pro. She had started off bobbing her head quickly, but then started slowing down. Suddenly the pressure around my cock grew immensely. She hollowed out her cheeks and was going nice and slow, but kept deep down my shaft. The sensation was overwhelming! I couldn’t hold out much longer and I placed my hand on the back of her head to let her know I was going to cum soon. She responded by taking me deeper into her mouth, going further up and down on my cock and almost taking it all. Finally I couldn’t hold on any longer. 

“Bloody hell Y/N! I’m going to cum!” I moaned and added a second hand on her head, gripping her hair roughly as I held her mouth deep on my cock. She moaned as I exploded into her waiting mouth. She managed to gulp it all down as I pumped pulse after pulse of my cum down her throat. I never felt an orgasm as amazing as this before. 

When I was finally done, I released Y/N’s head. When she pulled away she opened her mouth and revealed that she had managed to save some of my cum. It was so hot! Then she closed her mouth and swallowed, then opened it back up to show me that every last drop was now down her throat. 

“That was tasty.” Y/N said with a devilish smile. 

“Was I a good girl?” She asked and I smirked. 

“Yes you were, now shut up and kiss me.” I said. 

“But I’m supposed to clean your cock.” She said with a slight pout and started leaning down to do so. I grabbed her hair and pulled her head back so she was forced to look up at me. 

“That can wait, I said I need you to kiss me now.” I said. The lust in her eyes was no doubt shared in my own. I pulled her face towards mine and my lips pressed to hers. For a moment I just held her there, our lips motionless against each other. I still couldn’t believe this was happening. Then she put her hand on my face and the two of us let our dance together. I moved to sit down properly on the bed and pulled her into my lap. Her arms locked around my neck and we started passionately making out. My tongue found hers and I was able to taste myself, but I didn’t care. I was more interested with the way her tongue was battling mine. I didn’t want to stop kissing her. I could feel her pull me, silently telling me that she wanted more of this. Of course neither of us were quiet, our moans filling the room. Eventually our fingers found their way to each other’s clothes. One moment the two of us were clothed and the next we were completely naked. I don’t quite know how it happened exactly, because I don’t remember our lips ever leaving each other. However, once we were naked I laid her down on my bed. My cock seemed to know exactly where it was meant to go, because I felt her wet pussy and pushed inside. 

That’s when I realised I was inside her. I was inside Y/N. I was inside my best friend. My best friend that got turned on because she finds me attractive. Then it hit me what was happening. I didn’t ask her if it was alright. I needed to stop. I pulled out of her and regrettably parted my lips from her. She let out a whine. 

“No, please Draco don’t stop, love me.” She said. I smiled slightly and felt my heart skip a beat as she begged me to love her. 

“Sex isn’t love. However, I intend to make love to you, which is why I stopped.” I said and she looked at me confused. 

“You aren’t making sense.” She said. 

“You just pleasured me orally, it’s time I return the favor.” I said and she smiled. I dove my face into her sweet wet pussy and started licking away. I have to say, she tasted amazing. I could eat her all day. 

My tongue worked her like I never have before. I had given most of my few girlfriends this treatment before, but this time was different. This time was going to be more special. This girl I truly cared about and wanted to hear her pleasure. I hit every spot I knew would excite her. My lips trapped her clit and I began to tase the tip with my tongue. That got her moaning loudly. Then I started kissing the edge of her lips. My kisses migrated to her amazing thighs and I kissed and sucked her beautifully smooth skin. Her moan increased and I was beginning to worry that someone might hear her. However, that didn’t stop me, I moved from one thigh to the other. Y/N getting louder and louder. Finally I went back to her pussy and once again sucked her clit, flicking it with my tongue. She moaned loudly again, but I wanted to give her more pleasure, so I pushed two fingers inside her. As I pumped them inside her while sucking her clit, I started to hear her moan in a low tone. I lapped away at her wet pussy as her hand gripped my hair. 

“Draco!” She moaned. Hearing her moan my name gave me some encouragement and I began licking faster, adding a third finger inside her. 

“Oh Draco!” She moaned again. I increased my efforts, pushing my fingers as deeply as I could inside her as I traced her pussy lips with my tongue. She just kept moaning my name. 

Using my free hand I started working her ass, pulling it to me so I could bury myself deeper into her. For a moment I removed my fingers from inside her and pushed my tongue as deeply inside her as I could manage. Y/N started moaning my name louder, so I know she was enjoying herself. When I started to tire out my tongue from trying to push it in as deeply as I could, I moved back to her thighs. This time I gently nibbled at her legs which got a very positive response as she gripped my head harder and moaned louder. Eventually I dove my face back into her sweet pussy and pushed my fingers back inside. Once again she let out a loud moan as I fingered her and licked her clit. She moaned louder and I felt her tighten around her fingers. Once she came she started gasping for air. 

“Draco please stop, I already came!” She said and I pulled away from her. My face was soaked in her juices. I smiled with a slightly cocky expression. 

“Did you enjoy that?” I asked. 

“Yes, you got me twice.” She said and my eyes widened slightly. 

“What?” I asked. 

“You made me cum twice. I tried to tell you but you made me feel so good, I couldn’t find the willpower to stop you.” She said and I chuckled. 

“So that’s why you were saying my name.” I said and she giggled. 

“Yes.” She said with a slight blush. 

“I’m glad you liked it.” I said. 

“I loved it.” She said. For a moment the two of us just stared into each other’s eyes. Then it dawned on me, I wanted to fuck her, but I wasn’t sure how to say it. 

“Now, love me.” She said and pulled me back on top of her. I lined my cock up to her pyss, but before I pushed into her I looked into her eyes. 

“I do love you.” I said and her eyes widened. 

“What are you saying?” She asked. 

“I’m saying I love you. I’m in love with you, it’s always been you.” I said. Part of me worried that saying it would ruin everything, but she proved one of the many reasons why she was my best friend. 

“I love you too Draco, I always have.” She said without hesitation. I knew she meant it. Somehow, something that we had never realized about each other had suddenly clicked for us. We were in love with each other. All these years we thought we were just best friends, we each secretly wanted more. 

I smiled and gave her a quick kiss before pushing myself inside her. We stayed that way for a little while, just me inside her. We were connected in the most intimate way and we weren’t about to go back. Slowly I started to pump my hard on inside her. It wasn’t long before we understood each other’s rhythm and we were moving together in sync. We loved each other and it only heightened the sensation of her pussy moving over my shaft. Our hands began to wander, pulling at each other, clawing at each other, showing that we desired each other. Every move we made as we had sex was to make it to that we were closer to each other, even if it was only a millimeter closer. We tried to pull each other as close to one another as we could as I thrusted faster and faster. 

Excitement increased in both of us as our climaxes began to stir inside us. My thrusts bagan getting sloppy and I knew I was close to cumming. 

“I love you.” Y/N whispered. 

“I love you too.” I said. 

“I’m cumming!” She moaned. 

“Me too!” I groaned. The both of us reached out orgasm together. My cum rocketed inside her and she let out a moan. It was then I realized I hadn’t worn a condom. Slowly out orgasms came to an end and we slowly calmed down. When we stopped moving I looked into her eyes and could see the love she had for me. I wondered how many times I had missed that look. I brought my head down and kissed her softly. I loved this girl, this beautiful girl, and she loved me. 

Eventually our lips parted and I pulled myself out of her. Regret sat in. I had cum inside her without a condom and now she could end up pregnant. 

“I-I’m sorry.” I said and she looked at me confused. 

“What do you mean?” She asked sitting up. 

“I didn’t use a condom…” I said and she just smiled. 

“It’ll be fine Draco, don’t worry.” She said and pecked my lips. 

“What if-” 

“Hush, don’t ruin the moment.” She said cutting me off.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie​ @tashy-bear​ @ashwarren32​ @hollie-blogs​ @schisbro87​ @lover-of-books-and-teas​ @nerdygaloresposts​ @teenwolfbitches2​ @genius2050​ @drw0301bieber​ @lady-of-lies​ @ravenmoore14​ @ravenempress101​ @cillianchamp​ @rowanthomasknapp​ @rachelxwayne​ @in-slytherin-we-trust​ @accio-rogers​ @sambucky8​ @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @answer-the-sirens​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @vanessa-kom-skaikru​ @dracoswhvre​

[notmanagingmymischief]

ℂ𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕒 𝔾𝕠𝕠𝕕𝕖 | 𝕄𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕀𝕥 𝔻𝕚𝕡

so I was talking to my girlfriend when I realized I didn’t post these two fics so...here’s this, the (technically) second part will be posted in just a few minutes :’)

also just so you know I do this when I’m alone in my room bc I have a skirt & shirt kinda like that sooo do with this information what you will :^

--

warning: swearing, sexual implications and language, office make out session (the best), the song this fic refrences includes the n-word so even though I obviously didn’t write it if you go to find it just know that

word count: 4.1K

--

taglist: @pearplate, @sapphicsarahpaulson, @rainbow-hedgehog, @lilypadscoven, @lostlastsforever756, @waverlysdump, @angelxsarahp, @mildolynwaltzedintomyheart, @sarahp-stan, @dreamer-queen, @ninaahs, @winters-witch-bitch, @msvenablezcane, @legendsofwholock, @fand0m-obsess3d-g33k, @paulawand, @thebijesus, @sassicaismysupreme, @its-soph-xx, @goodeday2u​

if you want to be added to the taglist, just message/ask me and I’ll be sure to do it! :)

--

enjoy xx

--

You swirled around your room, short skirt twisting around your thighs and lifting up dangerously high with every step. You definitely did not wear this one outside of your room, besides to the bar or club. It was already high on your legs, at least six inches above your knees and exposing a large portion of skin, and the shirt that you loved with it...jeez. Not something Cordelia would approve of, that's for sure. But goddamn, if it didn't make you feel sexy as fuck. You were the only one home, the rest of the girls were out, since it was the weekend, but you wanted to stay in for a day, clean up your room and all that.

i needed to give you a reference bc this picture was too good to pass up:

anyways

And since you knew you'd be alone, you put on the outfit you wore when you didn't need to worry about someone seeing you. So what originally was meant to be a cleaning day turned into half an hour of playing songs that no one that you hung out with (besides Madison of course) would ever approve of or expect you to listen to, while swinging your hips and dancing to the tunes. You were currently on "Anaconda" by Nicki Minaj, and you were feeling yourself. Every flick of your hips sent your skirt flaring out, and your arms raised over your head raised your already short top even higher on your stomach. You did manage to clean up while you were dancing, a little bit, picking up any stray clothes on the way and prancing over to your closet and putting them away, albeit not the neatest way to do things.

But soon you abandoned cleaning completely when "Dip" by Tyga came on, and if you weren't already feeling it, now you definitely were. "Bitches love me, keep it hunnid. Bitches love you, cuz you funny, they aint even stunners." (we are white we do not say the n-word here, keep it clean >:( ) You rapped along with the lyrics, rolling your body as multiple inappropriate scenarios went through your head to the song, most featuring one certain blonde witch. "I can be your daddy, cuz I am a motherfucker." You grinned, really getting into the swing of things. "Can you make it dip, make it dip, make it dip, make it dip?" Every 'make it dip' made you throw your hips to either side sharply.

You raked your fingers through your hair, dragging it out of it's tie and allowing it to flow over your shoulders. You flicked it over into a side part, running your digits through it again as your arms glided out above your head when you flicked your hips to the side a few more times, enjoying the way the fabric of your skirt flowed, so freely and fluidly across your pale thighs, smirking and biting your lip as you watched your reflection. "All these bitches my minis, got 'em callin' me Mickey."

You weren't so far into the music, however, that you didn't feel the sudden presence approaching your door, and your eyes went a bit wide as you scrambled for your phone, pressing the pause button as quickly as you could, though you were almost positive whoever it was that was now outside your door must have heard at least some of the song. Which frankly mortified you, and you were hoping it was just Madison, since she knew you listened to that kind of stuff. Looking yourself over, you smoothed your skirt down and pulled your shirt an inch further down your torso, since the person now was knocking at your door and you didn't have time to change.

So you called out "Coming!" as you marched over to the door, flinging your phone behind you and letting out a small huff of relief when you heard it bounce on your mattress. Today was not the day you wished to break your phone. You swallowed hard before you opened the door, and it was a millisecond before you turned the knob and opened it that your magic realized that 'oh fuck that isn't Madison', but it was too late as you swung the door open to reveal none other than the Supreme in all her glory, leaning on the door frame outside the thing, and your breath caught in your throat as you stumbled back a step. Hers did the same as her mouth snapped closed and whatever it was she wanted to say fell from her mind when she saw how you were dressed, brain short-circuiting. She stuttered something out and you did the same, quickly saying "Miss Cordelia! Fuck, hi, uh, w-what's up?"

Cordelia's mouth opened to speak, but no words came out as her throat was still too dry from how you looked. Finally she managed to choke out "I-I just wanted to speak to you a-about something. I'll, uh, I'll come back later--" "No, it's fine! Um, you can come in, I just, gimme a second. I'll change." you took a few shaky steps back again to allow Cordelia in, and she did so, trying her best not to look at you for too long lest she pass out or combust from embarrassment. Or perhaps some other emotion that she was unwilling to confront. But she did see the way your skirt slid up and exposed much more thigh than she'd ever seen you showing with every step you took to your closet, and couldn't help but look to the expanse of stomach that was visible. The blonde bit her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as she shakily sat down on your bed. She watched as you snatched something from your closet and hastily excused yourself into the bathroom to change.

This allowed her some time to calm down, but the image of all of that skin refused to leave her head, no matter how much she tried to rid herself of it, as that unidentified emotion reared every time. As she placed her right hand down on the mattress, her fingers brushed something hard, and she glanced down to see your phone lying there, still on with something showing on the screen. Now, Cordelia was very insistent on respecting her Coven's privacy, but her body acted almost out of her control as she carefully grabbed the device and pressed the volume button down drastically before twitching over the play button on what she now saw was a music player screen. A second of hesitation before she went all in and pressed the button, and her breath caught again and her eyes went wide, face flaring up bright red when she heard the lyrics.

"I always pull up with some Barbie dolls, thick in the thighs, I said we lookin' for some brain, where the Wizard of Oz? Last [REDACTED] was a dope dealer, hell of a guy. He said the pussy top five, dead or alive." Cordelia had never imagined you listening to something like that, and she quickly pressed the pause button and threw the phone back down when she heard the lock on your bathroom door click again. Though the heat in her face still had yet to retreat, and her breathing was shaky, every word she'd heard reverberating around in her head, paired with you in that skirt, and it all got just a bit too much for the woman to handle. She watched as you slipped out of the bathroom, previous outfit clutched in your hands, fabric twisted around your fingers as you fiddled with it anxiously.

You threw it down onto a chair and walked slowly back to your bed and stood a few feet from Cordelia, leaning on your nightstand. "So, um...what did you want to talk about?" you said, not making eye contact because you knew if you did you would blush. "Oh. Ah, I was just wondering what you were doing inside on the weekend. Usually you go with the other girls." Cordelia mumbled, also not meeting your eyes directly. You swallowed and replied "Oh, um, I was cleaning. I mean I was trying to," you cleared your throat awkwardly before continuing. "Um, and I don't usually wear stuff like that, by the way. I-It's really just around here in my own. Just please don't me mad with me, I—" "It's fine, y/n. I was just...surprised is all." You bit your lip, nodding hesitantly, not making any effort to get closer to Cordelia.

The woman noticed and smiled shyly, finally looking at you properly and waving you forward silently. You did, stepping slowly towards her until you could finally settle on your bed, perching gingerly on the edge of the mattress. You still faced away from Cordelia, unwilling to get too close. But when she sighed and reached her hand out to pull you a bit closer, fingers making contact with your shoulder, she gasped sharply and jerked back, and you did the same, flinching away and finally looking at the Supreme with wide eyes, her lips parted in shock and eyes glazed over as she stared blankly at your wall, emotions flashing across her gaze. The woman saw just glimpses of you, in your room with that outfit on, hips swaying to various music, back arching and body rolling provocatively. Her face lit up in a bright blush once she snapped out of it, looking away immediately and spluttering out some sort of an apology before standing up quickly. She glanced down at you and mumbled "I need to go," before disappearing completely, not even minding to walk out as she transmuted somewhere else, leaving you to sit on your bed in a stupor.

You blinked rapidly, mouth agape in silence, not being able to formulate a full thought, beside 'I'm so fucked.' Eventually you stood up, walking on wobbly legs to your chair, collecting your clothes and putting them away quickly, not planning on putting them on for the foreseeable future, which was probably for the best.

--

You didn't have a full interaction with Cordelia for three days, as every time she saw you she blushed and turned away, quickly walking away. It was getting a bit annoying, because you had wanted to talk to her at some point but she was making it her mission to avoid you at all costs. And Robichaux's was so big that it wasn't really that difficult. You asked Zoe at one point if she'd seen the Supreme, and the girl said that she had just a few minutes prior, which frustrated you even more, because you knew that it was just you that she refused to talk to.  Eventually you got sick of it, and planned to just somehow confront her, which maybe wasn't the best idea, but at that point you didn't particularly care. But before you could think of a way to do so, Queenie walked up to you as you were lost in thought, tapping your shoulder and making you look at her. She rolled her eyes but said "Miss Cordelia asked to see you. She's in her office." You let out a relieved sigh and nodded, thanking her before excusing yourself, walking in long strides to the blonde witch's office.

You arrived shortly, rapping your knuckles on the wood in three sharp strikes, waiting for the called out "Come in!" before entering. And when you did, you opened the door, stepped over the threshold, and half slammed the door behind you with your magic, crossing your arms and scowling at Cordelia. "What the hell? I've been trying to talk to you for two days and now suddenly you want to see me?" You exclaimed, hands flaring out to the side as you walked to her desk, placing your palms down on the hard surface and leaning down so you were more at her eye level from where she was sitting. One of her brows raised and she smirked slightly, leaning back further in her chair as she crossed her arms as well, still looking at you. You didn't back down, eyes narrowing fractionally in silent challenge. Finally Cordelia spoke; "Yes, you're correct. And I am aware of how long you've been....pursuing me. But I'd watch my tone if I were you."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and mumbling "Oh yeah sure. Ignore me then expect me to act like nothing happened. Come on Cordelia, you and I both know that isn't how this works." The older witch bit her lip as she listened to you. The sass in your tone exited her, and perhaps it turned her on a bit, but that's not the point. So she stretched her neck out, rolling it back before uncrossing her arms. She then raised one hand, her index finger moving in a 'come hither' motion, prompting you forward. But when you didn't move, only removing your hands from her desk and leaning back, still scowling, she sighed, exasperated. "Honestly, y/n, must you make this difficult?" She murmured before unleashing her powers on your mind, and though she did not do it often, her Concilium skills were still perfect. If you didn't know better, you'd almost believe that you were making the decision to move forward consciously, though you knew that was not, in fact, the case.

You let out a indignant noise as Cordelia forced you to walk around the desk towards you, eyes never leaving yours as she held your stare intensely. "Cordelia what are you--""Shush." One word was all it took for you to shut up, and she finally relinquished control once you were standing directly in front of her, the woman having spun her chair to the right so she could face you. You sighed and bit your lip as you looked down at her, tapping your foot. "And what is this?" you said, raising your eyebrows momentarily. Cordelia hummed in response, making you scoff and begin to turn away to walk back. But before you could the woman's hand shot out and she gripped your wrist firmly, pulling you towards her. This sudden movement caused you to stumble and, as cliche as it was, tumble directly into her lap with a squeal of her name. The witch's hand remained on your wrist as she forced it down onto the arm of the chair and mumbling "Don't move."

You listened, nodding shakily. She removes her hand after a second and your fingers grip tightly on the thing, knuckles turning white as her other hand grips your chin, pulling it an inch closer until your noses are almost touching and you can feel her warm breath on your lips. Your eyes search hers and you whisper "Cordelia?" She doesn't respond, gaze flicking from your eyes down to your lips when your tongue darts out to swipe over them before tugging the bottom between your teeth nervously. Her thumb that rest at your chin came up to probe at that lip, pulling it from your bite before letting it free, though the finger still rested there. Again you mumbled Cordelia's name, swallowing roughly when her eyes met yours once again, hers dark and pupils expanded. The older woman bit her lip now, only for a moment, before replying "What?"

Your breath caught in your throat for just a moment when her other hand fell to your waist, fingers coming to clutch at your hip bone, and you finally said "kiss me," and it was all Cordelia needed to hear before she crashed her lips against yours, pushing into them hard as you kissed back with equal fervor. The fingers previously gripping your chin slid so that they were cupping your face, thumb and index fingers against your cheek and the others resting on your neck lightly, still holding you close. Your lips moved in sync with hers, fitting against each other perfectly as you pressed forward, urging Cordelia's head back until it was resting against the back of her chair, allowing you to rest more comfortably in her lap. It didn't take long for you to remove your hand from the armrest and bring it to wrap around her neck, fingers tangling in her long hair. You let out a tiny whine at how soft it was, and you felt the woman's lips twitch up a bit.

Eventually the two of you had to pull away to breathe, chests rising and falling rapidly even as you laughed, breathless. You pressed your forehead against Cordelia's, and she smiled, eyes falling shut and dropping both arms to snake around your waist, sliding you a little further up her lap and pressed more flush to her body. You giggled her name when she blew a little huff of air at you, rubbing her nose against yours gently. Soon she pressed her lips back to yours again, though the kiss was much slower, lacking the heated desperation that your first contained, instead being more languid and loving. And when the two of you parted, she mumbled "I've been denying myself this for too long," making you chuckle quietly and nod, replying "So have I. I assumed you didn't like women, or at least not me."

Cordelia tsked, poking your waist and making you squeak and giggle as she said "Oh come on. You mean you haven't seen the way I melt around you? Unbelievable." You shrugged, untangling your hands from her blonde hair and instead smoothing it out a bit and twirling a few strands between your fingers, her own fiddling with your shirt. After a moment she said "I think seeing you in that outfit was the final straw, honestly." Your face heated when you remembered the event, biting your lip again. "Yeah. Uh, sorry about that again. I didn't plan on having...um, anyone see me in that really. I only wear that with Madison." Cordelia's fingers tightened around your waist then, and your breath hitched when her voice dropped an octave or two as she mumbled "You're not allowed to wear that around anyone else again. You are mine, and I plan to keep it that way."

You swallowed harshly at the word 'mine', and your heart sped up, pounding rapidly in your chest at the possessive tone the woman carried. You quickly responded "O-Okay. I won't," and she nodded, pleased at how willing you were to listen to her. It was a quality Cordelia always admired, loving how easy it was to get you to do things for her. She never used it to her advantage, of course, as she wasn't Fiona, but it was something she always kept in mind. With a hum, she finally said "Now that I think about it..." trailing off at the end as she smirked, and you grew nervous, not knowing what she was planning. Now, being the Supreme had it's perks, really. A lot of them. And Cordelia had seen her mother use a certain power, only once, as she usually preferred getting changed on her own. But Fiona was in a hurry one day, and Cordelia watched as the former Supreme changed her outfit instantly, with just a snap of her fingers. Now, Cordelia had never tried it on herself, let alone on someone else, she she didn't know if it would even work, but pushing the doubt aside, she raised one hand from your waist, pressed her thumb and middle finger together, and snapped.

A gasp was ripped from your throat when your outfit disappeared, and was replaced with that outfit, eyes going wide in surprise. You looked down in amazement, though also embarrassment. "How did you...?" Cordelia simply shrugged, still smirking as she also observed your new attire, pushing you off her lap gently as she stood, rising to her full height and forcing you to do the same, though her hands remained on your waist. Her fingers now connected to bare skin, your top exposing most of your stomach. You also smirked slightly when her eyes trained on your thighs and abs, fingers ghosting over them as she mumbled "When did you manage to get these?" You took pride in your appearance, and keeping in shape was important, but you just shrugged and said "Oh, that's nothing. I workout on the weekends." Cordelia rolled her eyes and smiled, looking back to your face for a moment as one of her hands slid from your waist and against your hip, moving until it was on your thigh, flitting across your skin in a feather light brush, making you shiver slightly, muscles tensing under her touch.

In a moment you found yourself spun around and pressed against her desk, your ass hitting the edge of the thing before you were lifted on top of it, and your legs were spread apart, allowing Cordelia to stand between them, and you instinctively wrapped them around her hips, hooking your ankles behind her. Your face flushed at the position, and it got worse when the older witch's fingers came to rest on your bare thighs, your skirt having hiked up when she moved you. Your hands shakily braced yourself on her desk behind you, doing your best not to knock any paperwork off of it and onto the floor. Cordelia leaned close to you again and you moved forward automatically, meeting her in the middle in another rough kiss, and you felt her tongue flicker against your bottom lip, and you parted them to allow her to push it into your mouth, coming to wrap around yours and engage in a fight for dominance, fingers tightening around your thighs and nails digging into your skin slightly.

The gentle sting made you groan quietly into the kiss, and Cordelia smirked, raking her nails across your flesh, making little red lines appear on the pale skin there. Again you whined, one hand shooting to her neck, resting at the back and pulling closer, forcing her to take a step forward until she was completely against you, hips resting against the edge of the desk and her chest pressed to yours. You soon felt her hands return to the apex of your thighs, sliding further inwards until they were dangerously close to your increasingly wet center. But before she could go any further, a knock was heard on her door, and the two of you sprang apart, breathing heavily even as she pulled away, helping you quickly off the desk as she said "Who is it?" Her voice was breathy and uneven, and you were sure whoever it was could tell as you could swear you heard a snicker sound from outside before a voice said "It's Queenie. Is y/n still in there, we need her help for something."

You bit your lip, looking to Cordelia quickly as she did to you. But the Supreme replied "Yes, she'll be right there. We're just finishing up." and Queenie acknowledged it with "Alright. We'll be in the greenhouse, y/n. Make sure you're appropriate." The words made you blush bright red, hiding your face in Cordelia's neck with a groan, and the blonde chuckled, patting your head lightly before you pulled back again. You then gestured to your outfit, saying "Uh, can I...have my clothes back? Please?" and Cordelia nodded, waving her hand and instantly your old clothes were back, and you straightened out your shirt, pulling your jeans up your hips just a bit higher. You then fiddled with your hands a bit, unsure of what to say, but Cordelia separated them carefully, and placed a soft kiss on your lips before mumbling "Go on. I'll see you later, and then we can continue this" against them. You hummed, pretending that the woman's words didn't make the ever increasing heat in your stomach flare even more, and pulled away after a moment, taking a few steps toward the door.

When you reached it, you pulled it open, turning back to find Cordelia already sat in her chair again, still watching you with a small smile on her face, which you returned. And with one last wave and "See you later, Delia," you walked out, pulling the door closed again, but much softer this time. The entire walk to the greenhouse you had a huge grin on your face that refused to leave, even after you walked in and saw the rest of the girls, only dimming slightly.

Zoe and Queenie shared a look and snickered again and Madison rolled her eyes, a cigarette in her fingers as she said "So what's Cordy like in bed?" "Madison!"

[ahockeywrites]

Is that a drawing of me?

You sighed. Your professor set you an assignment to draw something that makes you smile. His suggestions included a pet, a sport or a loved one. Naturally, the first thing that came to your head was your boyfriend, the resident pest of Calgary, Matthew Tkachuk. The only problem you had, is that drawing faces was your weakness when it came to your artwork. It wasn’t that you couldn’t draw faces, if it was a life or death situation, yes, you could draw a face. However, when compared to your nature drawings, they were second best.

“So, are we gonna get a drawing of Mr Hockey hotshot this time?” your friend Anna asked. You looked at her with a look only she could read. Realistically, the answer should have easily been yes, but your worry of making him look bad was heightening your anxiety.

“It’s an idea, but you know how I was in our portraits module. How can I do the man I love justice when I can barely draw someone with straight hair,” you said as you slumped into the chair in the small coffee shop. “His curls will be the death of me.” Taking a small sip of your coffee, you noticed a text from the devil himself.

Matty: Hey baby, just wanted to let you know I’m back from practice now! Let me know what you want to do for dinner :) x

You: Urm… I’m good for anything? Something quick bc I’ve got college work to do x

Anna could tell that you were talking to Matt, solely by the way that your face lit up whenever you two spoke. “But, who or what else would you draw?  I mean, I’m planning on doing my family by the lake back home, if that helps?” Anna offered. You knew she was just trying to help, but you had to draw Matthew. You had skirted around it before but you had decided.

“I’m gonna draw him, but hopefully not too well,” you said, “I can’t inflate his ego any more. I think Brady and Taryn would want words with me.” The two of you giggled, knowing that anything that made him look too good in his eyes would just make his head grow 20 sizes.

“Yes my love!!” Anna exclaimed, “shall we stop by the art store before art history?”

“I think I’m gonna need to,” you explained, “I need some new canvases and a lot of red pencils if he’s gonna be in Calgary gear.”

The two of you left the coffee shop for the nearby warehouse full of art supplies. It was just off campus and offered a generous student discount to almost anyone. You wandered down by the canvases, trying to figure out which size would be right for your latest piece. Too small and the picture would look cramped, too large and the image could look out of proportion. Eventually, you settled on a relatively large one and by this time had picked up some very Calgary appropriate red and black pencils. You also spotted a scrapbook that looked perfect to start filling with photos of you and Matthew.

Scrapbooking was something you had always wanted to get into, but it never came up in your studies and you always thought that you should practice line art or painting. But with your second anniversary coming up, it was something you could do in your downtime to relax but also create something beautiful. All you had to do was get a few rolls of washi tape and some photo corners. Everything else, if you had forgotten it, could easily be ordered later.

2 hours and $150 later, you exited the store with Anna and headed to your final lecture of the day. Now, just because you enjoyed both art and history did not mean that you enjoyed the combination of the two. Especially when the professor decided that it would be fun to set a 2000 word essay on the Renaissance period. “I cannot wait for this day to be over,” Anna spoke aimlessly.

“Honestly, same, hopefully Matt has got some food ready for when I’m back,” you hoped, no, prayed to someone above that he had actually made something and hadn’t burnt down your apartment. “I’m gonna head off now, but text me updates of your portrait?” you asked Anna. She nodded and you started your short walk from campus to the apartment.

15 minutes later, you arrived home and tumbled through the door. The smell of something baked filled your nostrils. “Matty baby?” you called out, hoping he would hear you and give you a hand with all the supplies you had bought.

“Y/N!” he called, coming to the hallway. “Need a hand?” he asked, but the two of you knew it was rhetorical. You let out a small giggle and gave him two of the bags you had filled to the brim with scrapbooking items. Now, you could have hidden them from him, but it was likely that he wouldn’t even know what they were so you were safe. The two of you moved in sync to the office of the apartment which very quickly had become your own personal studio with an easel and multiple chests of drawers with the most random supplies in them.

“Just pop them down anywhere, I have a drawing I want to start tonight along with an essay,” you complained.

“Don’t you worry, I have wine and lasagne,” Matthew sang. You audibly groaned at the sound of food, all you wanted was a warm meal and to relax. At least you’d be able to get one of them tonight.

You two sat down at the island that graced the kitchen of the apartment. Matthew had set the table and even put a few candles out, “I thought you could do with an hour or so of doing nothing,” he spoke as he went to grab your hand. He rubbed soft circles over your knuckles as you picked up your wine glass with your other hand.

As you took your first bite of the lasagne, you sent your boyfriend a wink. Lasagne was one of the few things he could cook and not mess up and he knew that. “I am so glad that I have a small amount of time before I start my drawing tonight,” you explained.

“What are you drawing?” Matt asked as he lifted his wine glass to his lips.

“That is something I would rather not share just now, but you’ll find out later,” you winked. You were never particularly secretive when it came to your artwork so he was slightly confused but he went along with it. Maybe, he thought, it was going to be a gift for someone and you didn’t want him to spoil the surprise.

The two of you continued to chat over dinner, talking about practice and how boring your lectures were. The boy sitting across from you never failed to make you laugh and you knew that you couldn’t draw anyone else other than him. As he was talking, you allowed yourself to take in his features and you tried to think of the best way to draw them. “If you’re done staring, I’m gonna sort the dishes out,” Matt laughed. You hadn’t even realised you were looking so intently at him. “I know I’m beautiful,” he got out before you tried to tackle him to the ground, however, your strength was nothing compared to his.

“I think this means it’s time for me to go and get started with my assignment,” you giggled from underneath him. “Come grab me if I’m still working and should be asleep, yeah?” you asked. He nodded and let you head to the office.

Once seated in the office, you pulled out your laptop and google searched Matt’s name, hoping some good images of him came up. Or at least, some that you could try to emulate. You found one of him smiling and celebrating a goal and thought that would be perfect. It also meant that the majority of his curls were underneath a helmet so wouldn’t have to worry.

Grabbing the canvas you had specifically bought for this, you placed it on the easel. You began to sketch out the rough shape of a skater in the foreground. Then, you moved onto the face. You thought if you did the face early on, you could fix any mistakes with it once the rest of the image was done. Starting with the eyes, then the nose and mouth, this wasn’t going as badly as you thought it might have gone. But then, the dreaded curls were staring at you from underneath the helmet. Sighing, you knew that if you didn’t start them now, they would never be done and a bald Matthew was something you never wanted to see.

A knock on the office door startled you, “baby, it’s almost midnight. You have an 8am lecture tomorrow and don’t want you to be late,” Matt said in a soft voice.

“Yeah, just gimme a few minutes,” you replied. By this time you had moved onto the logo on his shirt and if anyone saw, it would be incredibly obvious who you were drawing. Curly hair, Calgary Flames player, number 19, with an A on his chest. You were so engrossed in the drawing, you hadn’t noticed Matthew open the door and walk to be behind you.

“Is that a drawing of me?” he asked. You jumped out of your skin and he had to put his hand on your shoulder to stable you. You meekly nodded and looked up to him. “It’s amazing,” he said as he took in the drawing. Suddenly, he put two and two together, “this is why you wouldn’t tell me what you were doing, eh?”

“Maybe,” you said softly, trying to hide yourself in his chest. “Didn’t want to inflate your ego anymore.”

“Baby, if every drawing you do of me is this good,” he said as he pressed his forehead to yours, “my family better make an entire room back in St. Louis for my ego.” You slowly pressed your lips to his as a sign of appreciation.

“I take it you like it then?”

“Like is the wrong word, I love it. I also can’t wait to send a picture of this to the family group chat to get their thoughts,” he laughed.

“Well, as long as your mom doesn’t want me to do another one, I think I’ll be okay,” you said as you kissed him again.

[aangarchy]

people on this site are constantly complaing about how characters always look too pretty, showing too much skin or having technicolor eyes or whatever, and you get these characters that actually like real women and not supermodels and the fandoms like, this is bad actually? i think you guys dont even know what you want honestly. also the original winx cartoon already lightskinned the few brown girls they had lol.

Really?

[ID: a picture of the original winx club cartoon. There’s six girls, all of them are wearing their fairy transformation outfits. On the top left we have Aisha/Layla. She’s standing with her arms crossed and a smile on her face. Her eyes are brown, her skin is dark, and her hair is auburny brown and curly. On her right we have Tecna, who’s body is facing the viewer, one hand placed on her hip, and her face is angled to the right, showing her face in profile. She has light skin, hot pink short hair, and has green eyes. Next to her we have Bloom. She’s doing the typical magical girl pose, with one leg in the air and her hands extended. She has blue eyes, wavy ginger hair, and light skin. Then we have Flora. Her legs are posed in X position (knees facing inward) with her arms to her side. Her skin is dark, but lighter than Aisha’s, and she has light brown hair with blonde e-girl bangs, and has green eyes. Below Aisha we have Musa, who’s sitting with her back to the viewer, looking at us over her shoulder. She has light skin, her eyes are smaller than any of the other girls and are very dark, you can barely see her pupils. She has jetblack hair styled in two high pigtails. She’s also wearing headphones. Stella is next to Musa, facing the viewer. She’s sitting, supporting herself with her arms. She has a slightly tanned light skin, amber colored eyes, and blonde hair styled in low and long pigtails. She’s also wearing a blue diadem. End ID]

Your first point, on how they look too pretty: it’s... a cartoon... aimed at little girls... idk about you but when I was a little girl I didn’t like to watch “ugly” looking cartoons. Even the villains and teachers in this cartoon were pretty. Even the old headmistress of alfea was pretty, she didn’t have a single wrinkle. Another reason for them being “too pretty” is because their designs were based off of real celebs who were popular at the time or are still popular. Flora is designed after Jennifer Lopez, Tecna after Pink, Musa after Lucy Lui etc. Are their bodies unrealistically thin? Yes, they very much are, and they’re not diverse at all. That’s the one issue I had with the original cartoon.

Then you say they show too much skin: uhh, I don’t know if you’re aware but this show was made in the early 2000’s, aka the era of crop tops, low rise jeans, booty shorts, short skirts, etc. Celebs wore this stuff on red carpets. These are supposed to be fashion foreward 16yr old girls. You’re not gonna tell me you’ve never seen a 16yr old in a crop top are you? Also, let women wear what they want? They don’t exist for you to gawk at them like they’re a walking exhibition? Why are you sexualising 16yr olds?

There’s only 6 main characters and three of them are woc. Aisha is black, Flora is brown and latina, Musa is east asian. Their character design shows this very clearly, with Musa’s eyes being small and dark and her hair also being dark, Aisha’s skin being dark and her lips fuller than the others, and her hair being curly. Flora’s skin is also darker, albeit not darker than Aisha’s. Her latina coding came from episodes where her parents and culture was featured. Flora is the only character of color with light hair and light eyes. Musa is the only character of color with very light skin, but that’s not unrealistic.

Netflix on the other hand, completely erased Tecna, who had short hair and who’s interests were very tech related. They whitewashed both Musa and Flora and renamed Flora Terra. The only diversity left is Aisha, who thank fuck is still a black girl, and then Terra, who’s a plus size girl. I’ve said this before, I love plus size representation since I’m considered plus size, but NEVER at the expense of brown women.

Idk if you’ve noticed but I NEVER spoke on these actresses’s looks, I never once called them ugly, it’s literally NOT the reason I’m upset at this live action. I’m upset bc Netflix whitewashed two out of three woc, erased the one character with interests that are considered “masculine” (by society), and decided to dress these girls the way I dressed when I was 12. I’m not upset with the actresses at all, I’m upset with netflix, the show’s writers, the casting director and the costume designer.

The way you just spoke to me clearly shows you didn’t even READ my post complaining about this show. You’re clearly just trying to find away to DEFEND netflix’s erasure and it’s ugly.

[toomanyfandoms02]

Birthday // Spencer Reid x Reader

So I got this idea from @darnittumbleweed 's recent post about how grateful Spence must be when he gets gifts and people remember birthdays bc of his mom sadly forgetting them when he was a kid.

Summary - Reader accidentally finds out it's Spencer's birthday and she decides to surprise him with some gifts.

Word count - 2.3k

I adjusted my light purple blazer, tucking it farther into my pencil skirt as I walked through the doors of the bullpen. I was a bit earlier than usual, but I was not surprised to see Spencer already parked at his desk with a book in hand. His feet were propped up on his desk, making his legs look even longer.

The I saw a wallet laying open on the ground, a few feet from his desk.

I kneeled, grabbing the older looking leather wallet from the carpet. I immediately saw Spencer's ID picture sitting in the front clear pocket.

*Sex: M --- Eyes: BRO --- Hgt.: 6' -01'' --- Wgt.: 175 --- DOB: 10/28/1981*

I furrowed my eyebrows at this, that was today's date. Spencer turns 29 today.

I had heard from JJ how private Spencer was about events like this. They just became like any other day to him as he grew up. His mom had not remembered holidays and birthdays from a pretty young age, so he treated them like another regular day too. JJ, and I'm sure Hotch, were the only ones who knew of his birthday. He must have told them to not make a big deal of it, he wasn't much of a partier. Fine then, I wouldn't throw him a party.

"I think you dropped this." I set his wallet on his desk, folded closed. He peeked over his book, eyes widening a bit.

"Oh thanks! Where did you find it?" He say up straighter, laying his book on his desk. I pointed to the ground a few feet away. "Well, thanks again y/l/n." I nodded, heading to my desk.

I shamelessly spent the whole day looking for things to buy for Reid. I was aiming for things from Doctor Who, so I looked up the stock from geek stores in our mall. I had decided on two gifts, and I was going to buy them after work.

My heels clicked loudly on the tile floor of the mall. I was getting frequent stares from passersby as I walked through the crowded halls. I *did* look a little overdressed to be in the mall, but to be completely honest, I was on a mission. And I wasn't going to waste time changing because that would just postpone the time that I would get to see Spencer's smiling face.

I walked into 'ThinkGeek', peering to the back where I saw a Doctor Who section.

"Hiya! Is there something I can help you with." Though the worker didn't show it *clearly* on her face, but I could see the slight confusion in her eyes. Again, I did look a *little* out of place.

"I'm looking for a few specific things that I checked your guys' stock for with the help of a friend."

"Only workers can check our in store stock here. Are you Sarah's friend?" She gestured to a lady at the counter with bright pink hair.

"Uh, no." I slowly pulled out my FBI credentials and discreetly showed them to her. "I had our tech analyst check for me because I need these gifts for a friend." She nodded in understanding, looking just a bit frightened. I explained to her what I needed and she took me to the items. It wasn't long until I was being rung up.

"That'll be $31.82." I slid her the money. "This is a gift right? Do you want it wrapped? We wrap for an extra 2 bucks."

"That would be awesome!" I put two more dollars on the counter.

"So," she tied the bow on the first present, "is this for a boyfriend?" I blushed and narrowed my eyes a bit. She put her hands up in surrender, "Or girlfriend?" I sighed a bit with a laugh.

"No no, he's a coworker."

"Some coworker he must be if you're spending," she peered at my receipt, "nearly 34 dollars on him. A birthday I'm guessing?"

"Are you trying to profile me?" I asked, quirking my eyebrow.

"Are you trying to profile *me*?"

"Fair enough." I laughed. She slid me the boxes and handed me my receipt. "Thank you for wrapping these."

"Get that man boo!" She shouted as I left the store. I gave her a firm thumbs up and started heading to my car so I could give these to the man in question.

That was until I forgot about a card.

I turned back into the mall and went into Barnes and Noble. I quickly had a worker direct me towards the cards and I found a perfect one with a Tardis that said 'All the time-travel in the world won't make you any younger.'

I giggled and brought it up to the register.

"Is it this special someone's birthday *today*?" I nodded. "Well I have a coupon for a free cupcake from our cafe." She slid me the thin piece of paper.

"Thank you so much!" I grabbed the card and headed to the cafe and getting him a vanilla cupcake. After all of that, I was finally, *actually*, heading to Spencer's.

I pulled into his apartments parking lot, unbuckling and gathering the gifts. I took the stairs up to apartment 23 and knocked on the door. I heard slow footsteps approach the door and stop for a moment. I assumed he was looking through the peep hole so I hid the presents behind me, skillfully stacked onto one hand and waved. He opened the door immediately.

"Hey y/n! What are you doing here? And what's behind your back?" He tried to look over my shoulders, which wasn't hard to do with his towering frame. I backed up into the stairs railing so he couldn't see.

"You promise you won't be mad if I tell you?" I could see worry cross his features.

"That depends. But it's hard to stay mad at you." His face softened.

"Ok well," I pulled the small boxes and card from behind me, "happy birthday."

His eyes widened, and then, unexpectedly, a giant grin spread across his lips.

"How did you know?"

"When I picked your wallet up, I saw your ID. So, I decided to get you a couple things." He ushered me in the house as I handed him the card. He smiled even bigger, reading the card.

"You remembered that I like Doctor Who?"

"Okay, first of all, who doesn't know you like Doctor Who? And two, I remember a lot of things about you, nerd." I elbowed his side lightly. He gestured for me to sit on his couch with him as I handed him the boxes wrapped in white wrapping and blue bows, along with the clear box with the cupcake in it.

"Thank you for the cupcake." He chuckled.

"Yeah! The chick at the counter gave me a coupon for it." I smiled.

He opened the thinner, longer box first. I revealed a Tardis tie.

"Y/n-"

"I didn't think you had a tie like that so as soon as I saw it I knew I had to get it. I'm sorry if you already have one."

"Y/n, this is so cool! Where did you get it?" He pulled it from the box and looked at it closer. He was already loosening his current tie to try it on.

"It's a store in the mall, ThinkGeek. They've got a lot of nerdy stuff there. It's where I get my Harry Potter stuff." I blushed a bit, having just revealed a nerdy part of me that I didn't tell many people about.

"I love it!" He was now standing in front of a mirror, tightening it around his neck and smiling like a little kid who just got a puppy. He came back to the couch, leaving it on and tearing the wrapping on the second one. It was a Tardis mug.

"And you were talking about how we didn't have enough mugs at the office, so I thought you could have your own. Plus, everyone will know it's yours."

He stared into the mug with a look that I couldn't exactly read.

*Did I trigger a bad memory?*

Right as I thought that, he looked up at me with the same expression. All I could tell was, whatever he was trying to express, it was behind those honey brown eyes. ~~the ones I was always getting lost in~~ He set the mug on the coffee table and leaned towards me.

He hugged me.

He hugged me tighter than I have ever been hugged.

I wrapped my arms around him, squeezing him back. I could have sat like that forever, but we sat for probably half a minute.

"I thought you didn't like hugs."

"I don't usually, but, I don't know." He looked down at his hands, quite literally twiddling his thumbs. "This just, means a lot to me. I didn't think someone paid enough attention to me to not only get me things from my favorite show, but things that I have mentioned randomly in a conversation." He looked up in realization, and now my heart was pumping *way* too fast. "You *like* me, don't you?" My eyes widened to, I'm sure, the size of the mug I had gotten him.

"What? Uh, no. I just thought, you just never, no."

"Yes! Yes you do!" He stood up smiling at me, like he just had a *massive* breakthrough. "Look, you're blushing, that's involuntary sign of attraction. And you haven't broken eye contact with me this whole time! Even though you want to. And you're talking in a lower pitch than usual. A person will change the tone and pitch of their voice when speaking to someone they’re attracted to. Specifically, women tend to lower their vocal tone when around an attractive person. You have been fidgeting this whole time."

I could feel my face get hotter and hotter with everything he pointed out. I felt extremely vulnerable. My face was not only involuntarily blushing, it was involuntarily making quite the frightened face. I realized this when he put his hands up in surrender and his face softened from the smug grin that was previously plastered to it.

"Oh! Are you okay?" He leaned over his coffee table at me and I leaned farther into his couch. He smiled again, "Do you not understand what I'm getting at?" He looked at me slightly dumbfounded.

"That I like you? Yeah I got it!" I snapped a bit. He closed his eyes and shook his head slightly.

"I do the exact some things." I squinted my eyes at him. "Do you not notice how *neither* of us ever break eye contact? I was just sitting next to you, fidgeting with my hands. You probably think my cheeks are naturally flushed, but that's just when I'm around you. I constantly catch myself lowering my voice when I'm having conversations with you. Some profilers we are, huh?" I smiled and leaned towards him, grabbing his face.

"Yeah, well, we aren't suppose to profile eachother anyway, cheater." I giggled, pulling him into a kiss. He grabbed the back of my neck deepening it.

"Giggling a lot from a woman is also a sign of attraction." He mumbled between kisses. I pulled apart from him with another giggle. He raised his eyebrows as I confirmed his theory.

"Whatever nerd." I pushed his chest.

"Seriously, thank you so much." He hugged me again. At this point we were both just standing in front of his coffee table. "I'm glad you found out it was my birthday today, because I'm not sure when I would have the courage for any of that again." He pushed a piece of hair behind my ear.

"Well you don't have to worry about that anymore. You have me now." His eyes lit up at that, kissing me again. We both smiled into the kiss, pulling eachother impossibly close. "I've gotta get home and feed my cat." I backed out from the kiss, watching him slightly follow, in hopes of another kiss.

"Are you free after work tomorrow?" He asked hopefully.

"What do you have in mind?"

"Dinner? Or we can watch a movie here?"

"How about both?" I winked.

"Perfect!" He pecked my lips one more time as I walked out the door. Just as it shut behind me I heard a not so quiet.

"Yes! Finally dumbass!" From him.

I giggled again as I walked down the stairs.

*What a convenient day for him to drop his wallett*

BONUS:

The next day I walked in to see Spencer drinking from his new mug and wearing his tie, paired with a regular white button up. I walked by his desk, tapping on the mugs rim.

"Nice mug." I winked and kept walking to my desk. He looked down at the coffee with a giddy smile.

"**I knew it! I knew it! Give me the money JJ you *loser**!" I heard Derek screech from the other side of the room. JJ rolled her eyes and handed him a ten. "My man's has got game!" He slapped a hand on Spencer's back.

"You guys couldn't have waited one more month?" JJ asked with a very annoyed expression.

"It's your guys fault for betting on us." I held my hands in surrender. Penelope then emerged from her office.

"Yay! Finally! Did you get him the tie and mug?! I adore it!" She hugged me from behind and placed a kiss on my cheek.

*This is my family*

[palmett-hoes]

Do you have any fan casts or strong takes/feelings on the foxes’ appearances? Fandom tends to use the same Pinterest models, which feels wrong to me.

i do in fact! i've actually been meaning to make a post about how i choose to write all of the foxes' ethnicities anyway

but yes i absolutely agree that the typical pinterest model types u generally see on edits is not how i see any of them. nor is reece king or froy gutierrez or lucky blue smith one of my FCs for anyone

for a lot of them i don't necessarily have a single specific FC so much as i have like,, a general impression of features that i will see on various different people, who all may look wildly different from each other or who may not even look how i see the character as a whole but do have a specific feature i associate with them. mostly it boils down to the Energy i get tbh and that's just a Feeling i cant even explain

fun fact im a tiny bit face blind so that might account for some of why i'm so all-over about this

may as well go chronologically. some of them i definitely have more thoughts on than others

1. Dan

ethnicity: Afro Native (Sioux)

features: medium dark skin. buzzcut, killer fade. she often styles it in waves. she's very butch, wears a lot of basketball and cargo shorts, tank tops and flannels and jerseys, hiking boots. skinny but muscular, with a very rectangular body shape. defined jaw. probably like 5'4 or 5'5

FC/Energy: sometimes i get some dan energy out of janelle monae but more butch. lotta dan energy out of samira wiley. lashana lynch

2. Kevin

ethnicity: a lot of things tbd, but he's pretty multi-ethnic. i like the idea of kayleigh being half- or a quarter-japanese in addition to irish because it gives her more of a reason to go to japan for her undergrad. wymack is from d.c. which is a majority black city for its actual residents, but i also like the idea of him being Pasifika/Hawaiian. HOWEVER - and this is pretty important to my read of kevin's character - he's white passing, and has been mostly treated as a white guy who tans his whole life, like occasionally asked if he's italian maybe. learning that his father was a Distinctly Not White Man was a big shock to him.

kristin kreuk, lindsay price, phoebe cates, and marie digby are all half-asian actresses i base kayleigh on

i suppose i base his story partially on broadway actress carol channing, who revealed publically that she was a quarter black when she was like 80 years old. though maybe wentworth miller, a biracial actor who knows his father is black but also doesn't know him, is more accurate to kevin's story. then keanu reeves is a white passing actor with asian ancestry

also none of these people look anything like how i picture kevin lol. kevin is just like,, a guy. handsome ig. but kind of in a CW character kind of way

actually

kevin looks exactly like young jason momoa

3. Andrew

ethnicity: kayin/karen from myanmar

features: fat and muscular, very wide and heavy. this blog is basically all andrew body type refs. medium-olive skin, has a bit of a greyish tinge that makes him look a bit eerie or unhealthy. deep set, droopy eyes; looks so tired. flat face with a low-bridged nose. crooked teeth, especially his canines. natural hair black-ish but he bleaches it light blond. has the beginnings of martial artist punching callouses in his knuckles

FC/Energy: holy shit the characters i feel have Andrew Energy are all over the place. pedro pascal. babe ruth (yes fr). oddjob (harold sakata) from goldfinger. the jinn (mousa kraish) from american gods. gaear grimsrud (peter stormare) from fargo. takeshi kovacs (joel kinnaman) from altered carbon. and i wanna be clear, it's these characters specifically, and generally NOT the actors outside of that specific role. except pedro ❤️

4. Matt

ethnicity: cuban

appearance: matt has more of an Energy than specific features to me rn. that energy is Warm. he has that Warm bro jock dude energy. kind of a marvel hero build, hunky and muscular. very rectangular face. has this haircut:

5. Aaron

i get to cut myself some slack and not go AS in depth about aaron because he and andrew are identical twins

ethnicity: kayin/karen from myanmar

appearance: similar build to andrew, less confident and casual posture and body language. less apathetically murderous and more emotive expressions. better teeth bc his mom took him to the dentist. yes also bleaches his hair

celebrities: probably a lot like the difference between the characters and the actors. andrew is the characters and aaron is how the actors actually look. idk ive never looked at someone and thought 'hey! looks like aaron!'

6. Seth

ethnicity: have been going with half-vietnamese. considering looking into various south asian possibilities like pakistani

appearance: string bean build. that's all i have to offer

7. Allison

ethnicity: allison's very up in the air for me. she and seth are the two foxes i feel fine with being white, but im committing to having no white foxes sooo. i would say i generally see her as either half-middle eastern or chinese

appearance: plus sized and hourglass shaped. heart shaped face. taller, like 5'8 or 5'9. she has a pretty fraught history with her appearance and her parents payed for/pressured her into getting a nose job to have a 'prettier' nose. she also bleaches her hair blonde. she gets it done at a salon tho the twinyards do it in their bathroom

FC/Energy: elle king and nadia aboulhosn are my main inspos for her, esp body type but nadia esp in Vibes

8. Nicky

ethnicity: multi-ethnic. his mother is southern mexican Indigenous, possibly oaxacan. his father is mixed white/kayin

appearance: definitely takes after his mother while his father is white passing. dark brown skin, warm undertones. slightly stocky build. tall ovular head and thin aquiline nose. he's kind of just,, the opposite of the twins ig, so like their facial features look very different, which is a big part of why people don't make the connection between him and the twins alongside the difference in their skin tones, heights, and builds. nicky's build and features are very vertically-oriented, with a tall head, narrow-set eyes, thin nose with a high bridge, etc. the twins are horizontally-orienged, with broad, flat faces, wide-set eyes, wide noses with a low bridge, etc.

FC/Energy: yalitza aparicio, not a guy but one of the few Mexican Indigenous stars in the film industry and i really like her features for nicky. she's oaxacan

9. Renee

ethnicity: Black. african american

appearance: plus sized, circular/apple body shape. round face. dark skin. microlocs to a bit past her chin, bleached white and dyed at the ends. she and allison go to the salon together. femme but plain style, a lot of blouses and long skirts, practical shoes. knuckle callouses. about 5'6

FC/Energy: dominique fishback. tracie thoms, esp in RENT. gabourey sidibe. nicole byer, but not in Energy. brandy, for some reason, probably bc i think she has very serene Energy and is a little bit otherworldly. like if brandy played arwen or galadriel from lotr it would make perfect sense to me, and that's the Renee Energy™️

10. Neil

ethnicity: mixed. Black/Jewish on both sides. his father is polish ashkenazi and afro-brazilian. his mother is Black British and algerian jewish

appearance: very... sharp. like sharp all over. does that make sense? sharp features, sharp face shape, sharp angles to his body. he's got what i vaguely think of as a 'basketball build' not meaning tall but meaning very rangy and angular and lean. all limbs. seth has a similar build. lighter brown skin. he has waardenburg syndrome which is actually where he gets he gets his eye color, and his eyes are very large and widely spaced as well. freckles freckles freckles. freckles everywhere. 4a hair but at least during canon it's not very healthy and thus the curls aren't well-defined. he grows it out long enough to tie back and starts taking better care of it in post-canon. wonky, slightly crooked teeth, with a gap between the fronts

FC/Energy: now neil i actually have a ton for. mostly models which im a lil ashamed of bc i do try to draw more from athletes. alton mason is a main body type ref. mugsy bogues is good to see what i mean about the basketball build without the height. here're the boys: cykeem white, luka sabbat, désiré mia, Leo Hoyte-Egan, dylan hasselbaink, this beautiful stock photo model i've never been able to track down

i think about him every. goddamn. day.

in terms of like,, real ppl and not models: corbin bleu, especially during Jump In. figure skater elladj balde. rayan "ray ray" lopez from mindless behavior. A$AP Rocky a lil bit, maybe i just like his hairstyle idk

two more models i think are important: carissa pinkston and ralph souffrant

[livelongdolan]

Teacher’s Pet (G.D. & A.D.)

Summary: When you encounter a new teacher your freshman year of college, Grayson gets a bit jealous but there’s another feeling brewing inside of you. *This is a fanfic including Grayson Dolan and Adam Driver*

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: threesome smut, spanking, choking, just everything honestly lmao

A/N: i sent morgan an ask and i could NOT get it out of my head so this is what happened (btw this is dedicated to her bc she’s my fellow adam driver lover @vinylhazza hehe ily, also to my best friend Joie bc she helped me with the storyline uwu ily)

Tags: @vinylhazza (idek anyone else who would like this but lmk if u wanna be tagged!)

     You had always had friends that were older than you, so when you got into college you already knew about one of the professors you’d end up having freshman year. You were majoring in anthropology and the one in charge of the class for the first year was Professor Driver. Your friends had snuck pictures of him in class, talking about how attractive he was constantly but also how incredibly strict he was. You never really understood their infatuation until you walked into his class for the first time. The way that his nose curved, along with his jet black hair and hazel eyes had you hooked, not to mention how broad his shoulders and torso were. Friends of yours knew that you had changed your mind about him but what you didn’t know was that your best friend and soon to be boyfriend Grayson had noticed too. He sat next to you in the same class and watched the way you practically drooled over the tall man dressed nicely in a casual suit. But it also didn’t help that you constantly talked with him after class about how handsome the older man was. 

     “Gray I’m serious I think he’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.” The two of you are walking side by side after leaving the class and you can’t get your mind off Professor Driver. 

     “Really? You see me every day Y/N” He smiles, half joking. You playfully hit his shoulder and just laugh at his comment. 

     “Oh my gosh don’t even get me started on his body. His shoulders? Crafted by the gods Grayson I’m not even kidding. He’s just so…” you pause for a moment, trying to think of the perfect word to describe him “...big. Like massive. He could throw me around like a rag doll.”     At your comments Grayson pretends to throw up, slight jealousy brewing in his stomach but he’s not letting it show just yet. 

    “Y/N he’s our professor, you're gross.” He laughs but there’s slight meaning behind his words. You decide to ignore it and the conversation topic changes after a few more laughs from you. 

                                                               ~

   The next day the two of you walk into class, going through the classwork as you steal glances at the man at the front of the class. You make eye contact a couple times but look away quickly at each occurrence. After receiving your essay tests back from the week before you noticed that you had many more comments on yours than anyone else had, scrawled in purple ink. You showed your paper to Grayson and he gave you a look of surprise. 

     “Maybe he has a crush on you.” Grayson jokes. You shove his arm away and laugh, not realizing how loud you’re being.  

     “Miss Y/L/N. Care to share what you’re laughing about with the class?” Professor Driver’s voice carries loud across the classroom, booming off the walls into your ears. You instantly feel your face heat up at his comment. 

     “No Professor Driver sorry.” You mumble just loud enough for him to hear. 

     “Then I suggest you don’t laugh in my classroom. Keep it outside.” He speaks in a stern voice, sparking slight excitement mixed with fear inside of you.

     You simply nod in reply and smile at Grayson, making sure to stay quiet the rest of the class so as to not get in trouble again. After the lecture is over, you let Grayson know that you are going to stay behind to talk to Professor Driver. Although it isn’t his official office hours, you know he has time before the next class ends so he stays in the same room. You decide to take this opportunity to apologize sincerely for being loud in class as well as ask him about the notes left on presumably only your test. Walking towards his desk, you grip your essay in your hand and approach his desk where he is sat grading. 

“Professor Driver?” You ask, trying to get his attention. 

“Yes, Miss Y/L/N?” He responds, still keeping his eyes focused on the grading at hand. 

“I just wanted to let you know that I am truly sorry for what happened in class today. I’m just good friends with Grayson and we got carried away and I laughed too loud I promise it’ll never happen again I just-” 

“Stop. It’s okay. Just as long as you don’t do it again we won’t have any problems.” He interrupts. “Now is that all?” 

“Um no,” you pause for a moment, gathering your thoughts, “I actually wanted to also ask about my essay.” 

Before you can get any further he interrupts you again. 

“You know the rules. Talking about assignments is for office hours, not for time when I am working on your other assignments. You know where the clipboard is so sign up for a time and I’ll get to you.” The entire time he is still focused on the papers in front of him where you notice that there are no comments on anyone’s assignments, furthering your confusion. 

“But-” You try to speak before you are interrupted for the third time. 

“Y/N.” He says your name in such an intense manner that butterflies start up in your stomach. “I told you what to do. Follow the rules.” 

Feeling intimidated, you simply nod your head and make your way out of the classroom. 

                                                           ~

     About a week passes by before there is an opening in office hours. Since the professor is so strict about everything and grades so harshly, everyone is trying to salvage their grades. A couple days before you are supposed to meet, Grayson tells you that he needs to talk to you after school and that it’s very important. You meet him outside the library, where you usually meet, and start walking around campus before stopping in front of a small group of benches where people typically eat their lunch or study. 

     “Listen, Y/N, I need to tell you something. It’s been weighing on my chest for a while and even if it doesn’t turn out to be good I just need to get it all out.” He explains. You simply nod your head in response, allowing him to continue. 

     “I like you. More than a friend. I like you and I want us to be together if you feel the same way.” The words spill from his mouth quickly as if he’s scared of saying them. 

     “You like me?” You say in disbelief, not fully believing it since you’ve never seen him in that way before. He simply nods, shying away from saying anything more. “Why me? Like we’ve been best friends forever what changed your mind?” 

     “Well to be honest with you, when I heard you talking about our professor I got this really jealous feeling in my stomach and it wouldn’t go away so I just went home and thought about it for a bit and realized that I like you I guess.” He lets out a slightly awkward laugh. “And why shouldn’t someone like you? You’re beautiful, smart, and I don’t know I guess I just found something in you that I never noticed before when you talked about him. Sooo…”

     “I’m honestly not sure how I feel about you Gray, but I wanna explore this. I think it could work if I just figure out my emotions. So how about we just spend some time talking and stuff before becoming official?” You question, hoping he says yes because you honestly felt guilty about being so attracted to your shared professor still. 

     “Yes of course Y/N. No rush at all.” His smile is as bright as the sun at the news and the two of you continue your walk, the casual banter usually shared between the two of you having a new feel to it after his confession. 

                                                           ~

     The next couple days before your meeting with Professor Driver, you and Grayson spend almost all of your time together and you are definitely getting feelings for him. With each brush of your hands together or an accidental bump into the other, you feel your attraction growing to be as strong as his yet still not enough to be official yet. You had never noticed how attractive he was before all of this had happened though. Of course you had always known he was a handsome guy simply because his features were nicely arranged but you found yourself just wanting to look at him a lot of the time. A couple times he caught you, laughing and grabbing your hand to intertwine it with his as you continued whatever you had been doing. You were definitely in it now. But what about Professor Driver?

                                                           ~

    It was finally the day of your meeting with Professor Driver and you regretted wearing the skirt that Grayson had wanted you to wear for him, simply because you knew how clumsy you were and didn’t want to accidentally flash your teacher. Although in your mind deep down you knew it wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen.

     After classes were over for the day, you instructed Grayson to wait at the bench right outside of the building so that you could get in and get out fast, returning directly to him. You made your way into the lobby, continuing down into the familiar classroom. Professor Driver was sitting at his desk on his computer, presumably putting in grades or something else having to do with all the grading he’s been doing lately. 

You knock slightly on the door and he motions to come in. You walk in and sit across from him in a plush chair with wooden arms, immediately putting your essay on the desk in front of you. 

“So I was just wondering about my essay test because I noticed that, at least from those around me, I am the only one with extra comments added. I got a good grade and the comments are positive so I was just wondering why mine has comments and others who did just as good do not.” You speak concisely as to make sure things are fast, not wanting to spend any more time around the temptation that is your professor longer than you have to. 

“Well, I saw that you have potential. The students I believe have potential, I actually put extra work into and make sure I add what they have done right and wrong to improve them as students and people. You just happen to be the only one with potential in this class therefore you are the only one with extra comments. Your essay was the only one to fully address each thing I instructed you all to address and with the work you do in class I see that although you do spend some time messing around with Mr. Dolan, you get your work done and you always hit the nail on the head.” As he speaks he almost unnoticeably glances down at your chest, where your cleavage was showing due to the low v-neck of your shirt. You take notice but leave the looks to your imagination, a red blush covering your face and moving down your neck at his compliments. 

“Thank you so much Professor Driver. I really appreciate your kind words.” You smile sweetly at him. 

“It’s no problem Y/N” he uses your first name once again making butterflies arise in your stomach. “Good girls deserve praise.” He is barely speaking above a whisper but you still hear him, the words instantly affecting you. You clench your thighs slightly to keep your arousal at bay. 

“What was that Professor?” You pretend as if you didn’t hear him, hoping it was just your mind playing tricks on you. 

He looks you up and down before gazing directly into your eyes. 

“I think you know what I said. I can tell by the way you’re clenching your thighs together Y/N.” It hadn’t registered that he was tall enough to see clearly over the desk. You immediately move your legs apart quickly, accidentally giving him a peek of the pink lace panties you were wearing.

“I-i’m sorry Professor I didn’t mean anything by it I’m kind of seeing someone I just-” Before you can finish your sentence, Grayson is walking up to you. You hadn’t realized that he’d come inside to check on you and heard what just happened. 

“Yeah you’re damn right you’re seeing someone. Me. So why are you” He looks pointedly at the large man sitting in the chair across from you “saying things like that to her? Doesn’t seem very professional of you to say, does it?” 

The professor is taken aback by Grayson’s words but simply looks up from his sitting position. 

“You’re simply too young to know what she wants. You can’t pleasure a woman without experience.” The words fall freely from his mouth as if he hasn’t a care in the world and he returns to grading the papers in front of him. 

Grayson’s mouth opens quickly in shock before he closes it again, responding angrily. 

“And what the fuck would you know about pleasing a woman? Don’t think you’re all big and bad just because you’re an old man. And not that you need to know, but I have plenty of experience thank you very much.” Grayson moves closer to you as he says this almost as if he’s protecting you. 

Professor Driver places his pen down before pushing his chair out from his desk and standing to his full height. Your breath is caught in your throat as you see how much taller the man truly is compared to Grayson. It’s not a lot but considering the circumstances it’s enough to make a difference. Grayson’s head tips back a bit as to make eye contact. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about so I’d be quiet if I were you.” The professor warns. “You probably haven’t even made her wet yet,have you? But I had her clenching her thighs together with four simple words. So tell me now, Mr. Dolan, exactly why you think you have experience?”  

Grayson is almost at a loss for words but an idea springs to his head. He reaches over to you, wrapping your hair around his fist and pulling you towards him causing you to let out a small whine at the pressure on your roots.  

“She’s mine. It doesn’t matter what the fuck you say.” Grayson’s eyes are red with anger. The bigger man steps forward so that you are now stuck between the two of them, tension so thick you couldn’t even cut it with the sharpest of knives. The two large men sandwiched you between them as angry glares are shared, the amount of testosterone elevating due to the threat of the other male. You looked between the two, having to tilt your head back to see both of their faces before you realized the expanse of their chests on either side of you. The way that they had you, you felt more like a prize to be won than an actual person. You weren’t complaining. 

“How about we let Miss Y/L/N decide? We can both fuck her and she’ll chose who she likes better. Although I think it would be a waste of time since we all know it’s me.” Professor Driver proclaims. Grayson reluctantly agrees as he turns you towards him. 

“Mr. Dolan. Go lock the door and pull down the curtain.” The professor’s eyes are trained on you as he says this, large hands moving down to your waist and pulling you towards him. “Gonna be a good little girl for me, huh?” He whispers in your ear, sending chills down your spine as you nod your head. 

“I’m not gonna fuckin’ do what you say.” Grayson argues, observing already what a grasp the older man has on you. The same man’s movements stop and he holds on to you. You look at Grayson with pleading eyes. 

“P-please Gray. Lock it and close the c-curtain. I need you.” Your words are filled with a deep whimpering hunger that you can no longer control. Grayson gives in since you said it and does as he is told. As he is walking away, the professor leans close into your ear. 

“You are allowed to call me anything you want. My name is Adam if you’d like to call me that but I prefer something a little more fun.” His lips are ghosting across your ear as he speaks, your knees going weak at just his words. Grayson returns quickly, grabbing your forearm and pulling you into his chest, before kissing you passionately. His lips are rough against yours and you can feel the anger in each movement he makes. Before you know it, Adam is behind you placing his hands up your skirt to take down the lace beneath. He rids of the small piece of fabric and lifts your skirt, large hands canvassing your ass before placing a harsh smack across it. You moan into your kiss with Grayson, letting him know the amount of pleasure you’re receiving from the admittedly more experienced man. 

Grayson moves away from you and pulls your shirt over your head, throwing it behind him along with your bra before kissing all the way from your neck down to your nipples. He takes one into his mouth, kneading and pinching the other with his other hand. While all of this is happening, Adam is removing your skirt and reaching his hand between your legs from the back to rub at your sensitive core which caused his hands to practically drip with your arousal. Before Grayson is done the professor pulls you towards him by your hips and turns you around by your hips, lifting you up. You wrap your legs around him, your core rubbing against the material of his button up, neither one of the men having gotten undressed yet. 

“S-sir please. Need more” You whine, burying your face into Adam’s neck and biting on the skin there. He lets out a grunt at your teeth against his skin. 

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll take care of you.” He reassures you, sweeping everything off of his desk and placing you on top. Grayson moves towards the two of you to keep himself included but he has no idea how to get access to you in the position that the older man has put you in. As Adam is unbuttoning his pants to be able to slide into you, Grayson takes his chance and moves towards you, crouching down after pushing the professor away and licking up the juices dripping from your core. Adam steps back, slightly impressed by Grayson’s willpower but still wanting to win you over. He lets Grayson continue, walking around to the side of you and moving your chin to face him. You come face to face with his huge cock and almost gasp in amazement of how big it is. He’s definitely the biggest you’ve ever seen.

“Open your mouth princess, take me in.” He demands softly, using his thumb to open your mouth for you before sliding himself in. The combination of him in your mouth and Grayson’s mouth fixed on you has you moaning around your professor so much to the point that after a bit he almost comes. He pulls out of your mouth and moves back around to where Grayson is. 

“Move.” He demands, feet planted firmly as to assert his dominance over the younger man as he unbuttons and takes off his button up shirt. Grayson heeds what he says and moves to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his lips and tongue. 

“Do you want my cock in you, dirty little girl? You want me to fill you up, huh?” Adam asks, rubbing his tip up and down your folds to tease you before you answer. You pull away from Grayson’s kiss as he moves down your neck, gripping your hair tightly before moving his other hand to grip your neck. 

“Y-yes please sir. Please.” You are almost crying at how desperate you are to be filled, pleading eyes looking directly into Adam’s. He smiles at your begging and plunges all the way into you, making you shout out in a mix of pleasure and pain. Grayson comforts you, leaving soft caresses all down your body. He even tries to rub your clit when your hips buck up but Adam smacks his hand away, instead pressing his forearm against your hips to force them to stay down. 

“You say you’re experienced but don’t even know not to let her be such a greedy little bitch? Yeah okay.” Adam snarks, Grayson simply ignoring him and standing up so you could suck him off like you had done to Adam earlier. You open your mouth and take Grayson in as Adam pounds away into you in a way so good you can’t even begin to explain. Your legs are shaking with each pump he takes in and out before you finally are about to release around him. 

“You need to ask my permission to cum, baby. If you want it you need to beg it’s not just gonna be that easy.” Adam’s previously stern voice turned a bit sweeter at these orders, knowing it would be difficult for you to keep everything in considering how hard and fast he was going. You pull away from Grayson and he continues to stroke himself next to you.  

“Please Adam please let me come. Please I’ll do anything. Anything.” The last word comes out as nothing but a whine as you clench around him. 

“C’mon kitten. Cum for me. Cum around my cock.” He only goes harder and faster as he says it, both men now being close to finishing. Grayson soon finishes, his liquids landing across your chest and seeing him is what sets you off. You cum around Adam, your walls clamping down around him so hard that he cums as well. He pushes all the way into you to keep all the juices, both yours and his, all inside of you before pulling out slowly so as to not let anything fall to the floor. Grayson steps to the side, taking off his shirt and using it to wipe his cum from your chest before Adam moves to your face, gripping your chin and forcing you to look at him. He pinches your cheeks so that your mouth opens and spits straight into it, showing Grayson who really has control. You swallow what he just gave you and moan, legs shaking from how hard you came. Grayson takes a look at the older man and just laughs, observing the destruction they both did to you. Adam smiles in return before grabbing you and making you sit up straight. 

“So, who’s it gonna be? Who’s the better fuck, princess?” The professor asks. 

You pause for a moment. 

“Can’t I just have both?”

[imbruedinfear-a]

@undeadrphub​ asked all of them for Ezra :’)

Is your muse a romantic? Do they dream of love and marriage?

yeeee boiiii. u ever want the love and marriage but ur Afraid of it bc that’s him.

Is your muse a deviant? Are they overly flirtatious or forward?

sometimes. this man can meet you and two seconds later tell you that you’d look real pretty with his head between your thighs. but also: he’s real good at gauging people who don’t want that sort of attention, so he mostly? is hella flirty and forward to people he thinks will positively react???????? idk man

Is your muse good at kissing? Are they experienced?

he literally won a kissing competition before. pls do not ask. he has 2 much experience.

Does your muse initiate a lot of physical contact?

normally, ya. for immy, no.

Is your muse comfortable with public displays of affection?

HE WILL FUCK YOU IN PUBLIC Y E A H

Does your muse steal clothing from their partner?

e h. he tends not to but he’s accidentally taken a few skirts before??

Is your muse the big spoon or the little spoon?

b i g

Is your muse comfortable with, or proud of their body? Are they insecure?

comfy enough, proud of the work he’s put into it. only gets insecure over stupid shit, like if a partner is somehow taller than him.

Is your muse attracted to any features in particular?

pouty lips, feminine features.

Have their crushes been mostly male, mostly female, or evenly split?

mostly female

Have their partners been mostly male, mostly female, or evenly split?

mostly male

Is your muse easily flustered? Do they blush, swear, etc.?

nope. good luck.

Where is your muse most sensitive?

his dick his neck! surprisingly enough people tend to not touch it, so it’s the most sensitive spot on his body.

Is your muse more submissive or dominant in a relationship?

d o m i n a n t

Would your muse ever tempt their partner, e.g. flirting, wearing tight/sexy clothing?

can u name one minute in his life he’s spent not trying to tempt someone.

Does your muse initiate heated/sexual contact, or do they wait for their partner?

he’s the initiator 9.9999/10 times but he actually prefers a partner who will initiate. he just tends to not attract those ppl :’)

Does your muse leave hickies? Do they ask for them?

leaves them even if he tries not to. won’t ask but really likes them and is l o w k e y disappointed when he doesn’t get any.

Does your muse like to be pinned down, or to pin their partner?

pin the partner. you can tie him up, but pinning him down for even a second is just asking him to flip the scenario.

Has your muse reached first/second/third base? Home run?

all of the above <3

Would your muse be interested in engaging with multiple partners?

done before, multiple times.

Would your muse ever send a sexual text message? Would they send pictures?

this man literally makes money sexting people and sending nudes. he has an 0nlyfan$ bro.

Does your muse read smut, own magazines, or watch p-rn?

not unless proofreading his own counts, nope, solely if he’s looking for ideas.

Is your muse the type to discuss their sex life or sexual prowess with others?

unfortunately yes, please shut him up

Is your muse a top, a bottom, or a switch? Do they have a lean?

top.

How interested is your muse in sex and sexual activity?

lives and breathes the sex.

Do they have sex frequently, occasionally, or rarely?

l i v e s and b r e a t h e s the sex.

[qvill-s]

Could I request Dimitri thinking he's going to lose his wounded f!s/o but then it's all okay in the end?? Cause your last one about the dream made me cry 😭

NOTES: you cried? good of course you can bb !!! i don’t mind getting a lot of requests for him bc i, too, love him immensely…

this is a bit (read: a lot) time skippy, so let me know if i need to distinguish the parts more !!!

WARNINGS: blood (but not too descriptive); wounds / injuries; typical wartime stuff

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

dimitri + a fatally wounded s/o right under the cut !!!

His first memories of you start with your mother’s voice uttering the words, “You are to be wed once you’re older.”

The two of you were about this high when you found out, hovering just a few inches below your mothers’ waists. Dimitri, at the tender age of seven, was unphased by the news. Political marriages were, of course, unavoidable, and though they locked any hope for a romantic future out of the picture, they were necessary.

You, however, ever the dreamer, were devastated by the news. From where you hid behind your mother’s skirts, he saw the first glimmer of tears well up in your eyes. At your ill-contained sniffle, your mother turned to admonish you, telling you to accept the fact that you were stuck in an uncompromising fate so helplessly entwined with his.

“It’s for the good of the people,” your mother scolded gently as you clung to her skirts, the tears finally spilling over your cheeks as you cried harder. In the face of your wobbly lip and white-knuckled hands and wet cheeks, he decided that he didn’t like fragile things.

Especially if they were fragile little things that cried over the unavoidable.

❛ ━━━━━━━━━･❪ ❀ ❫･━━━━━━━━━ ❜

He expresses his distaste for you in the smallest ways. 

He ‘accidentally’ excludes you from the games he, Sylvain, Felix, and Ingrid play under the guise of forgetting to invite you. He politely declines any and all of your invitations to come play with his studies as his primary excuse to not go. He engages you in dry conversation when the two of you are forced to spend time together and the parents are watching, but once they leave he ignores you and goes back to doing his own thing.

Subtle gestures, inconspicuous cues to let you know that your sudden change of heart towards your engagement won’t change his.

You don’t seem to get the hint until the aftermath of the incident sees him housed in your estate. 

Your guest bedroom isn’t any less lavishly decorated than his own room, but for some reason, it’s homeliness feels little more than a fraud. The mountain of pillows pressed against the headboard looks smothering. The cushion he sits upon and the covers on the bed aren’t as soft as his own window seat. Your house colors pop up everywhere, it’s incessant presence is overwhelming, reminding him that he isn’t home, he isn’t home, he isn’t home—

Suddenly (as if everything wasn’t enough), he hears your own distinctive knock at the door. He fights the groan that threatens to escape his lips.

“Dimitri?” You call through the door, “Are you okay?”

Stupid question, he counters silently, eyeing a bluebird that chirps happily on the windowsill. Of course he isn’t okay.

“I’ve— I’ve got cookies and pastries and… and things. Mother says that you’ll need to eat soon.”

There is a beat of silence, before you try again with, “Dimitri? P-Please talk to me, it’s… Mother says it’s not good to keep everything to yourself.”

He doesn’t answer, observing instead the life that bustles in your backyard. He almost hates how clean and white your servants are dressed, how cheery and bright your gardens look, how your estate doesn’t reflect the massacre his own house had been subjected to.

“I’m sorry,” you say, and for the first time in that exchange, sound escapes him in the form of a small scoff. It’s a phrase he’s heard a thousand times over the course of two days—I’m sorry for your loss, I’m sorry that you had to go through such a thing at such a young age, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—and frankly, he’s quite tired of it. Too many people apologizing for what had happened as if it was through their own fault that his family died.

“I’ll… I’ll leave you alone.” Your voice sounds small, defeated, and he hears it clearly even across the distance that separates the two of you. Briefly, he entertains the idea that your apology isn’t like the ones he’s heard, but then your footsteps recede down the carpeted hallway, and that thought flies away on the wings of the bluebird on the sill.

❛ ━━━━━━━━━･❪ ❀ ❫･━━━━━━━━━ ❜ 

You keep to your word.

You interact with him only when you need to, and in the face of your parents, you give him wide smiles and practiced words, expressing how happy you are to be in an engagement such as this.

When the two of you are sent to the Monastery, the divide between the two of your grows ever wider. He doesn’t hear his name come from your lips, doesn’t hear the way it curls around the syllables of his name, because you take to addressing him as your highness and my lord. You grace him with nothing more than polite smiles and gestures, and Dimitri finds that he misses the expressiveness of your youth.

He thinks that the way you treat him is no different from the other students at the Academy, until one day he chances upon you and Ashe out in the courtyard, locked in an animated conversation about a shared book in your repertoire of reading. He chances upon you covering your mouth with a hand as you laugh, the gentle touch you land on his shoulder, and the way your eyes gleam with a smile he hasn’t seen for years. He chances upon you catching his startled eye, the way your smile melts into something more guarded, and the courteous nod you send in acknowledgement.

It leaves him feeling strangely empty.

After that incident, he notices how your behavior towards him alienates him as nothing more than acquaintance with the rapidity of one noticing a dark stain against a white cloth. He notices how willingly, how eagerly you spend time with people other than him. He finds you cooking and baking with Mercedes and Annette, speaking of trade with Ignatz and Ingrid, gossiping over tea with Dorothea, and even caught an exchange of playful banter between you and Sylvain.

It takes him a while to realize that the empty feeling in his chest, the ache that hovers right over where his heart should be, is hurt. It hurts him, he realizes dimly, it hurts him to see that you are close to Sylvain, to Ashe, to everyone else except him.

It takes a lot longer for him to convince himself that he doesn’t mind—that he shouldn’t mind—because the two of you never liked each other anyway.

(Right?)

❛ ━━━━━━━━━･❪ ❀ ❫･━━━━━━━━━ ❜

Dimitri takes to the battlefield with an ease he doesn’t think he should have.

Now that five years have came and went, it’s much easier to give into his demons and the voices he hears in his head. It’s much easier to listen to their cries for revenge, to let his muscle memory and reflexes kick in and do the work for him.

He leads the charge, taking a backseat to his actions, watching impassively from the room behind his eyes. He ignores the sound of their screams and the squelch of his lance going through flesh, counting instead the graves he’s piled up behind him, hoping against hope that the number might one day satisfy the people who have died in his stead.

He doesn’t notice you until he hears the faint sound of your gasp behind him—a miracle in itself, because it’s difficult for him to escape the tunnel vision his bloodlust creates until the battle is done—and he turns to find a sword buried into your stomach. Your assailant dislodges his sword from your body with a grunt, and you fall to your knees with a whimper, clutching at your wound with both hands, your own weapon forgotten in the dirt beside you.

His heart lurches in his chest, and for a few moments, he is filled with a rage so blinding he doesn’t know what happens between that moment and the next. All he sees is a flash of red, and suddenly he’s cradling you in his arms and into his chest, calling for the nearest healer.

“Hold on,” he tells you, applying pressure to the bloody gash on your abdomen as he runs through all the possible ways this could’ve been avoided. The small part of him that shudders in the wake of his actions, the conscience that haunts him in his dreams, is appalled that you were hurt because of him, because of his carelessness, and his mouth quirks downward into a frown.

You mirror his expression, and the motion moves slowly across your features.

“You’re s-supposed to be happy,” you whisper, reaching a shaky hand up to his cheek. You run a thumb across the corner of his mouth, a feather-light touch that strangely leaves him wanting more, “Y-You should be smiling… Now”—you cough, and his panic rises a little higher, because he can see the blood that coats your teeth—“Now, you d-don’t have to marry me a-anymore…”

“Save your breath,” he admonishes harshly, getting more and more agitated by the second. (How long does it take for Mercedes to walk?) Your name leaves his lips in a panicked rush of breath,“You’re going to live.”

“—s-shouldn’t,” is what he catches from your slurred words, and it’s the last thing he hears from you for a while.

❛ ━━━━━━━━━･❪ ❀ ❫･━━━━━━━━━ ❜

He paces in the hallway outside of the infirmary as questions present themselves one after the other in his head.

What did you mean? What did you mean by he was supposed to be happy? Did you think he wanted you dead just to get out of your engagement? Is that why you threw yourself so foolishly into the path of the blade meant for him?

He paces and paces and paces, wearing down the stone floor of the hallway, your words echoing his footsteps, until at long last, Mercedes and her band of clerics call him in to discuss your condition. They tell him that the sword struck deep, that some of the deep and dark red of your lifeblood managed to spill out, that it’ll take a while for you to recover.

“You can stay if you wish, Dimitri,” Mercedes invites him kindly, pulling up a chair beside your bed before ushering everyone else out of the room to give you two your privacy.

When he sees you, you are as pale as the sheets you lie on, and when he takes your hand in his, it feels colder than it should be.

His fingers find the pulse on your wrist, pressing down until he feels it beat, albeit weakly, against the tip of his forefinger. He sighs heavily, a sound of tired relief, as he absentmindedly rubs circles into the muscle of your thumb, hoping to bring warmth back into your chilled skin. Your fingers twitch against his little one, and when he looks up at your face, you’re staring at him through drowsy, hooded eyes.

“D-Dimitri…?” You manage, weakly, your voice nothing more than a thin whisper in the stale wind of the infirmary. It’s the first time he’s heard his name from you in years, and he finds that it’s the most beautiful sound in the world.

When he shakes himself out of his state of wonder, he remembers Mercedes’ words and helps you take a sip from the water by your bed, your hand clenched tightly around his all the while.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he tells you once you’ve settled back in. His face twists into another grimace. His gaze feels drawn to your stomach, to the place his negligence had hurt you, hidden underneath the covers of your temporary bed. He feels the weak pressure of your fingers closing tighter around his, and it’s the closest the two of you have ever been since you met.

“You’d… you’d be h-hurt,” you tell him, your fatigue seemingly making you more honest than usual, “D-Don’t want that… for you… Couldn’t b-bear to— to see it.”

Your words give him pause.

You— you cared…? All this time, were you—

And then, it hits him.

You’ve only distanced yourself from him because he’s given you reason to believe he didn’t want you. He is, and always has been, the culprit, the mastermind behind your separation, and he feels a pang of guilt knock against his heart.

He wonders when exactly it was that you came to love him as dearly as you have, to love him and wish for his happiness enough to disregard your future for the sake of his own. He wonders how long you were looking for such an opportunity, for a chance to release him from a fate he told you time and time again he detested. 

He can’t help but feel disgusted with himself and his actions, because he let you suffer in silence, because he encouraged your sadness and let it fester, because somewhere along the line, he fell in love with you too.

He has a million regrets, but his biggest one is that you had to receive a mortal wound to get the truth through his thick skull.

“Sleep,” he commands you gently, smoothing a palm over your hair with the lightest touch he can manage.

“Will— will you—?”

“Yes. I’ll be here.”

Satisfied with his promise, you give up the fight against your fluttering lashes, resting them against your cheek as your breaths slow to the steady ones of sleep.

When you wake, he decides, he will tell you the truth.

[possiblypeachy]

tea & schemes. (10)

―; summary: An unexpected face pops up while Florence and Jacob are out and about; she should really expect these things to happen at this point.

―; pairing: jacob frye x ofc

―; word count: 5k (ooh, she’s a biggun)

―; warnings: light swearing.

―; A/N: okay so maybe this took me like a month to chip through but life gets hectic sometime im--

nevertheless!! i love them!! and this!! i’m finally getting into the writing habit again so hopefully you can expect to see this more regularly?? don’t quote me on that, though /: 

please tell me what you think bc i’m in constant need of pointers and reassurance!! plus i love talking about this so :))

―; tags: @vamprose (ily <3) (p.s. do ask if you’d like to be tagged in the future!)

―; part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

― ❊ ―

Suddenly, it seemed like the pub wasn’t so important anymore and, what with that Benjamin bloke still glaring daggers at the pair of them a few tables from the bar, the couple decided to shimmy their way out of the establishment and wander the streets for a small while. At the horizon, the sun was setting, painting a strip of pinkish-orange across the early evening sky. There was a chill in the air-- a reminder of autumn settling in-- that made Florence tuck her shawl more closely into her shoulders and encouraged Jacob to walk that little bit closer to her. Well, that required very little encouragement, truly.

There was this strange sense of joy lingering between them; it was the happiness borne from a returned confession mixed with the sudden fear that it had perhaps all been a mistake or some kind of terrible joke. However, the way that his thumb brushed over the back of their hands as they zigzagged their way down the backstreets made Florence feel a little better at least. Jacob found enough comfort in the memory of her smile back in the pub; he was almost certain emotion like that couldn’t be faked-- not even by a world-class actor.

“Jacob,” Florence spoke after a brief period of quiet between them. They’d been speaking idly of things, skirting over the surface of the kiss that had happened earlier and overall quite content with that. However, one might call Florence a cat and curiosity had killed her, “when we kissed…”

She paused to ponder her next words for a few moments but, before she could finish her own sentence, Jacob interjected with that cocky little smile of his and a quirk of his brow. “-- it was magical and you’ll often dream of doing it again?” She gave him an exasperated look but grinned regardless. “Well, dear lady,” Jacob bowed almost crookedly, as if to lower his face down to hers while they were walking, “I am always available.”

She hit his arm and scowled but the light in her eyes told of amusement. “You��re terrible; I’m trying to ask you something serious.” His demeanour softened and he dipped his head to the side slightly, as if to say “go ahead”, straightening his posture. Florence gave his arm a small squeeze in an effort to comfort him-- ensuring that she wasn’t actually bothered by his incessant jesting-- and, as her hand lowered again, he caught it in his own. A little curl came to her lips, gaze caught on the sight of their intertwined hands for a few moments; Thomas Langhorne had never made her heart do that.

Eyes, almost golden in the early evening sunlight, dragged up to his face once again. “What are we?” At this, Jacob’s face scrunched with confusion and Florence pursed her lips momentarily before she rephrased: “Are we doing some kind of… courting now?”

Her eyes glazed slightly at that dreaded word— so did Jacob’s. He opened his mouth briefly, only to close it again and hum, pondering. “Well, labels don’t have to be applied, do they?” Florence frowned, to which Jacob’s heart dropped suddenly, worried that he might’ve disappointed her. “Not those fancy labels, anyhow—“

“It’s just that I might worry about—“

“— because I’d definitely get bullied by Evie if I told her—“

“— exclusivity and the idea of sharing you because I think I—“

“— that I was ‘courting a lady’ but I wouldn’t mind it, if you wanted to call it that, since I—“

“— really like you.”

“— really like you.”

They looked at each other as those same words spilt clumsily from both of their mouths. There was a moment of quiet between them, then Florence made a ridiculous little snorting noise in the back of her throat and they both began to laugh. She admittedly felt like one of those flustered ladies in those hopelessly romantic books she always read but, for the first time in her life, Florence didn’t loathe that thought so much— in fact, it barely bothered her at all. It simply felt… nice to know that Jacob was experiencing the same things. Well, she assumed, anyhow, what with the gentle pinkness to his smiling cheeks.

Their eyes locked for a few moments as their laughter died down, honey melting into hazel, and Florence’s lips caught in a content, little smile— one that made Jacob feel, for a moment, like all was right with the world. Her gaze broke away from his and she shook her head, huffing out something that sounded like a chuckle through her nose. “My brother is going to keel over and die if he finds out.”

“So we won’t tell him.” Jacob replied, a small squeeze coming to Florence’s hand. “Not yet, anyway.” A certain amusement lit up his features, the kind that she’d come to realise always came before one of his remarks. “Besides, I’d only have you to bully if Freddy’s chucked out of the picture.”

“I’m the one who does the bullying here, thank you very much.” Proudness adorned Florence’s face, nose upturned in a way that made Jacob do a strange, back-of-the-throat chortle. “I learnt from the best—”

“-- me--”

“-- my sister, Emily.” Her expression deadpanned beside the tiny quirk to her lips that proclaimed humour. “I will… allow you to be just as proficient at bullying as me.”

“You’ll allow me?” His eyebrows raised in disbelief, open mouth threatening to break into a grin.

She giggled, nodding. “Yes, I’ll allow you--”

“You’ll allow me, eh? Will you?” One of his hands came up to poke at her ribs, breathing out impish laughter at Florence’s sudden squeal. She half-expected to barely feel his prodding fingers through her many layers but the sudden jab to her side was very much there and it definitely made her jolt to one side. Unfortunately for everyone in the immediate vicinity, Florence began that god-awful snorting of hers. Jacob continued with his assault, repeating his words through laughter, until she was wiping tears away from her eyes, cheeks hurting from smiling far too much.

Disaster came when she wiped the cloudiness away from her eyes and her vision met with a familiar crown of golden hair. She spat something that sounded like a horrible mixture of “shit!” and “damn!”, which froze Jacob up as he tried to search for whatever had so suddenly changed Florence’s demeanour. However, she had already decided to relinquish any control he might’ve had on the situation by bundling them both off into a nearby alleyway, the home of a few-- now visibly worried-- urchins.

Jacob’s brows furrowed and his mouth opened, ready to hurriedly ask her what had gotten her in a twist. Florence stopped him before he could speak with a thin finger smushed against his lips. She muttered a “Willard” and, against her front, she felt Jacob tense, though his face showed no real difference.

“Why is that such a problem?” He whispered back, perhaps a little too loudly for Florence’s liking, using his hand to lower her finger from his lips.

A myriad of emotions flickered across her expression-- all of which made Jacob frown-- and, in a moment of catharsis, she sighed. “You know why it’s a problem--”

“If he sees us, so be it. Maybe he’ll finally leave you be.”

“And, what? Proceed to kill my brother?” Florence spoke through gritted teeth, gesturing pointedly back to the street they had just been on-- the street where Willard was. “I’m supposed to be going to that… dinner party to entertain the idea of him and I being a couple; I doubt it’d still be going on if he saw me being friendly with you, Jacob.”

Jacob pinched the bridge of his nose, jaw clenched despite him trying his best not to seem angry with her. “How long will that go on for, hm? Until you’re both married? When will Florence Molyneux-Herbert’s first child be born, I wonder--”

“Don’t be such a prick, Jacob.” There was something in her eyes that screamed a strange sense of annoyance. “I’ll do what I have to; I need to find solid enough evidence of his plots to get him arrested.”

There was a pause in which the pair stared at each other-- a challenge. Then, Jacob sighed and nodded. “Fine.” Florence released a breath she was unaware she’d been holding, placing her hands on her hips and turning herself away from him, as if she was about to peek back into the street. “I’ll come with you to the dinner.”

“What? No, Jacob--”

“Listen to me.” He gave her a look, all too aware of Florence’s tendency to interject when she was particularly… passionate about a subject. She opened her mouth like she was about to disregard him, then her expression softened and she gestured for him to go ahead. “This Willard bloke-- he thinks I work for your family, yes?”

“I assume so.”

Jacob’s little smile counteracted her confused frown. In a way, his mere energy had formed this kind of… conniving, scheming hope in the pit of her stomach. “Exactly. I am Jacob Frye, your butler and bodyguard, rolled into one. I presume it’s cheaper that way.” He shrugged and Florence gave a laugh, stifled by the back of her hand; it was a shame that he couldn’t see her dimple. “I’ll accompany you and Freddy to his estate and, while you look all pretty and have a munch on whatever little entrées he serves you, I’ll have a nosey about his house--”

“He’ll have guards.”

Jacob deadpanned at her, then gestured-- to make a point-- to all the various weapons strewn about his person. With a nod, a hum, and a laugh breathed out through the nose, she conceded. He muttered something like a “thank you” before continuing on with what he would no doubt tout a ‘nefarious plan’. “-- and collect any scraps of ill-intent he might have lying about. Who knows? Perhaps I’ll even stumble across a secret room with drawings of your brother and little knife marks--”

“You really do test me, Jacob Frye.”

He let out a gleeful little laugh, loud enough for Florence to poke him in the ribs-- or was she serving comeuppance for his incessant jesting? Only God would know, one supposed.

With a small peek around the corner, Florence grimaced when she saw that Willard was still window-browsing at that poncey jewellery shop, rubbing his chin in a way reminiscent of some kind of statue of Adonis. God, why was he so pretty? Her eyes raked up and down the bluish ensemble he was wearing today and--

Jacob pushed her slightly, straight out into the open street and Willard’s attention. The blond turned, intrigued by the little ‘woop!’ and scuffle of shoes, and his expression shifted to one of surprised delight. “Darling Florence! What a gift God has given me for such a beauty to stumble back into my day.”

She stopped herself from frowning at this and wanted more than anything to throw a look over her shoulder towards Jacob; it would’ve either been a plea for help or a reassurance that she did, in fact, dislike being complimented like this. Well, complimented like this by him.

He all but swept over to her, the little cane at his side no doubt merely decorative-- a show of absurd wealth and status that made Florence feel inferior. As always. “What brings you here? Doing a bit of light shopping, are we? If you’d like, we could--”

“Ah, Miss Abberline, there you are! These backstreets are just nightmares to follow someone down-- oh.” Jacob, now having shown himself from the alleyway, drew close to her side, though not so close as to draw any attention. Hazel eyes met with Willard’s green and he bowed his head; Florence knew that, in his heart, Jacob was mocking the man but Willard seemed none the wiser. “Willard, is it? How lovely it is that you and my mistress have run into each other today.”

Florence had to stop herself from laughing at his formalities, lips twisting upward despite her best efforts to remain stoic. She could sense that Jacob felt the same way, no doubt having realised that he would certainly be made fun of later on for this.

It was even more difficult to fight back the desire to turn and look at Jacob’s face when Willard corrected him, a light sense of disgust in his voice, with “Mister Molyneux-Herbert.”

What a prick.

“It is, indeed, a lovely coincidence that our paths have crossed again today. In fact, I was just offering to peruse the shops with the lady--” A green gaze caught Florence’s and he smiled somewhat; that terrible, conflicting feeling began in her soul again, “-- so I suppose you might go home, Mister Frye.”

Jacob kissed his teeth, shrugging. “No can do, I’m afraid; Miss Abberline is due for a dress-fitting later today so we’re on a tight schedule. The dinner party you plan to host would be a far better opportunity to catch up.”

Willard, seemingly disregarding just about everything Jacob had said, took a step toward her, to which she shuffled backwards into Jacob’s arm. He briefly placed a hand on her lower back, though truthfully it did very little to calm her, before clasping his hands together behind his back. “I could perhaps help you pick out a necklace or brooch to compliment your dress for the dinner--”

“Flor-- Miss Abberline can’t--”

Florence’s hand brushed against Jacob’s stomach lightly, as if to ask him to back down so that she could handle the situation. Hopefully, the gesture went unnoticed by Willard. “It pains me to say this, but Mister Frye is doing what’s in my best interests. If there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that I get far too emotional when under tight time constraints; I get it from my mother.”

Willard made a little ‘ah’ noise and huffed out a small laugh. He looked to Jacob, gesturing to Florence, and joked: “Such a typical woman, eh?” Behind his back, one of Jacob’s fists clenched but his face told nothing of his annoyance-- rather his mouth shaped a grin, head nodding in agreement. Willard met her gaze again and took a few steps to the side, as if to let them both pass him on the narrow street. “Well, it was lovely seeing you twice today, dear Florence. I look forward to your presence this weekend.” Jacob was already walking past him when he held out a hand for Florence to place hers in. She did so, as she was expected, and he placed his usual kiss to the back of it, to which she began to feel almost guilty; leading a double life wasn’t for Florence, she had concluded.

Now released from the grasp of Willard, she hurried after Jacob, who’s tense shoulders told of frustration. When he heard the tip-tapping of her footsteps on stone beside him, he half-turned, a mocking smile painted across his expression. “Such a typical woman, eh?” The laugh he released was so hideous and fake that it made her begin her own horrendous giggling. Then, he shook his head, a very obvious frown pulling his lips downwards. “What a prick. Who raised him to be like that?”

Florence upturned her nose so she could achieve an appropriately posh accent. “The Earl of Carnarvon.”

“That would explain it then.” He sighed, rolling his eyes somewhat. “Well, at least you know you can catch the eye of-- what?-- nobility?”

“Oh, I doubt he would’ve even gone within a few feet of me if it weren’t for his murderous intent for my brother.”

Jacob did that kind of hum one does when they’re unsure of something-- the kind that changes pitch as easily as a cat flicks its tail. “I’m not sure if it’s just your brother.” Florence frowned and he elaborated. “To him, I am inconsequential-- a tiny little cog in a sequence that barely even affects him. I met him briefly once however long ago--”

“In the library, yes. He did give you a peculiar look.”

“Exactly. At the time, I assumed it was just because I was an inconvenience to him-- which, admittedly, I still am--” Florence huffed out a laugh and Jacob paused to smile, “-- but he still remembered me today. Bit strange, isn’t it?”

“You are overwhelming clad in weapons all the time and you have a tendency to gnaw at one’s mind.”

“Are you sure the latter wasn’t just you?”

Florence rolled her eyes but a grin broke her exasperated expression. “My point still stands, Jacob: you’re a memorable character.”

There was a pause. Then, he sighed. “Fine. I might be overthinking it. But, maybe my concerns are in the right place too. There’s always another side to the coin.”

“That was a lovely metaphor, Jacob. Have you been reading Evie’s books?”

His shoulder pushed hers and she stumbled to the side, laughing and trying to keep her dress from being trodden underneath her own feet. If she had fallen, he would’ve been dragged down with her regardless, what with how tightly her hand had taken to gripping onto his arm.

“You’re a bully, Florence Abberline.”

“Did I not tell you this earlier?”

He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head at her incessancy, but said nothing more; she had certainly proved her point from before, he supposed.

---

They had walked for a small while longer, trying their best to distract from Willard and his decidedly strange aura, before Florence decided it would be best for her to get back home, lest she have a small legion of police on the lookout for her. The way in which she’d mentioned this seemed specific but she denied Jacob any further details. Regardless, the thought of Florence having to evade police officers to stay out into the evening made him chuckle; she was a nightmare of a woman but he considered it one of her many charms.

They came to the red door of her home and, seeing that the curtains had been pulled closed, she gave him a chaste parting kiss, holding his face in her hands like she’d been doing it for her whole life. As usual, that little flush came to both of them: Florence’s ears tinged red and a pinkish hue gracing his cheeks. She could only hope that her brother wasn’t peeking between a gap in the curtains; she’d have a lot of explaining to do, if so.

“I’ll visit you again soon?” His voice was quiet-- as though he wanted to maintain a sense of intimacy despite the passersby-- and a hand lingered over her waist, testing to see if that was too much for her.

Florence didn’t object, instead reciprocating with a palm pressed to his chest. His hold on her became more definite and the feeling that rose in her chest made her smile. “The dinner is this Saturday--”

“I meant beforehand, Flor. Need to make sure that you’re not bending yourself over backwards to appease Willard, son of the Earl of Carnarvon.”

The dimple bore into Florence’s cheek-- a beautiful sight-- and she shook her head in that way of hers. “I won’t be; I already know what dress I’ll wear and all I need to do is consult Freddy about it.” Her hand moved from his chest to his bicep, squeezing it in reassurance. “I’ll be fine, Jacob. Don’t get all soppy with me.” She poked him now, little fingernail jabbing into skin, and he groaned, “You’ll remind me of Willard.”

“Don’t say that--”

“I should get inside. Goodbye, Jacob.” There was that cheeky smirk upon her lips as she trailed away, fingers dancing down the length of his arm and she took steps backwards.

However, his hand caught hers just before it left him and he pulled her back in for a delightful little peck. When they parted, it was almost as though her expression had moved from her face to his. “Just look after yourself, love.”

“I’ll try.” With that, she finally left him, sliding herself through the door, but not without looking back over her shoulder and shooting him a smile. As always, Jacob was stuck simply staring at the closed door for a while but that terrible missing feeling wasn’t there like it usually was. God, Evie was going to bully him when she found out.

The smell of chicken immediately overwhelmed Florence as she hung her shawl up. Cutlery clattered a room over and there was a muffled shout of “Hello, dear!” from Lissie. The older woman’s head poked around the corner, a smile on her face despite the napkins in her mouth, and said something that sounded like “Tea’s almost ready” but Florence couldn’t be sure. Nevertheless, she gave a little nod, mind already refocusing on the task of telling Freddy about their dinner plans for the weekend.

“Freddy?” She shouted in that way of hers. From the dining room, there was shuffling and stifled laughter from Lissie. “Fredd--”

“Florrie! Can you not bellow everything you say like a town crier?” He emerged from the dining room, hands tucked into the little pockets sewn into his waistcoat. He looked tired-- and eventful day at work, she assumed-- but he, despite his chiding, greeted her with a lopsided smile. “What is it?” With a hand, he beckoned her toward the table, shifting past Lissie, who was diligently trying to plate up their food.

Florence made her way to a seat-- across from her brother as always-- and clasped her hands together before her, careful not to keep her elbows on the table in an effort to appease Lissie. “Willard--”

“Oh, yes, you were due to meet him today, weren’t you?”

“Yes, I was--”

“Though I’ve also heard that, by the grace of God, you bumped into him another time-- by the jewellers.” Freddy leant back in his chair, thick eyebrows raised to the heavens. Florence pursed her lips. “I also heard that you were there with a man about my height, bit of stubble, flat cap, that had the same flighty disposition as a certain Jacob Frye--”

“Perhaps I was but that isn’t what I need to tell you.” Florence placed a hand on the table between them-- as if she was trying to calm a slowly angering beast. Much to her surprise, Freddy gave a little nod that asked her to continue, though the look in his eyes said that that conversation wasn’t over yet. “He has apparently heard rumours of his own ill-intentions toward you and wants to prove he doesn’t share the same will as his brother--”

“-- the doctor that was particularly nasty to his patients?”

Florence did a disgusted little nod, a sudden discomfort rocketing across her body knowing that such a monster’s brother could have similar intentions for her own family. “-- so he’s graciously invited us to dinner this coming Saturday.” She, mirroring her brother, slouched back in her chair, quite obviously at unease with the whole prospect.

Freddy hummed, nodding a thanks to Lissie as she placed a gravy boat in front of him, a little frown tugging at his lips. “Maybe we misunderstood him?”

With such certainty in her movements that Freddy fully believed her for a second, Florence shook her head. “He’s likely covering up; he lost that little note of his and now he has act particularly saintly lest I ruin all his plans.” She twirled her fork between her fingers then poked a breast of chicken. “Besides, Jacob thinks that he’s up to more than no good and, quite frankly, I trust his intuition.”

At the mention of the Frye, Freddy sighed. Florence went to speak before he could but he held up a hand to stop her. “Attending the dinner will be fine, if only to help us ease any worries we have. I have yet to meet the bloody bloke so maybe I’ll be able to draw some of my own conclusions about him.” A moment of quiet passed over them both, a thick cloud of questions travelling with it. Then, Freddy gave her a certain look-- the kind that desired a level of sincerity. “What were you doing with Jacob today?”

Florence pushed a roast potato about on the plate, slathering it in gravy, then took a careful bite out of it. It was almost like she was trying to avoid the question. Sometimes, Florence Abberline was a foolish woman.

“We ran into each other and--”

“Do not--” He paused, sucking a breath through his teeth, “-- lie to me, Florrie. I won’t be angry.” Florence looked unconvinced-- worried. Freddy’s expression softened; she was his little sister and he should be kinder. “I promise.”

She rolled her lips inwards and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear in that nervous way of hers. “Fine. The truth is that I might, perhaps, in theory--”

“Florence.”

“I like him. A little bit.” They both stared at each other for a few moments and she groaned. “Alright, a lot more than I expected.”

Much to her surprise, Freddy simply smiled. It was one of those strange, unreadable smiles but a smile, nonetheless. “That’s… alright. He’s been doing good work for me recently and, despite his incessant joking and insistence on calling me anything but my name, I trust him to not go out of his way to manipulate you. He’s too dopey, the poor lad.”

Florence had the kind of expression one would adopt if they were told they were the Queen’s long-lost sister. “What? Why are you-- hold on--”

Lissie moseyed on over to take the emptied gravy boat, a scheming little grin plastered across her dastardly face. “I told you that your brother would be okay, didn’t I?”

Puzzle pieces visibly clicked together in Florence’s mind and she uttered a furious “You”, finger pointing accusingly toward the housemaid. “You told him, didn’t you? Oh, you are such a--”

“-- treasure to society? Helpful friend?” Lissie pulled the towel from her apron and slapped Florence with it. “I am the mastermind behind this whole ordeal and, without me--”

“-- without her, I would likely not be as accepting of your choice in men, dear sister.” Freddy finished, hoping to quell any potential bickering between the two women. “She mentioned how torn up you were about telling me-- and him for that matter-- and it made me realise that I’m perhaps too harsh on you; your carelessness is one of your many charms, I suppose.”

“I also asked him if he’d ever govern Emily the way he does you, to which he begrudgingly replied ‘No’.” Lissie raised a brow at Freddy and, despite this being a jab at him, he huffed out a small laugh, shaking his head.

“Jacob Frye is not the worst choice in husband, I suppose. I think mum would prefer that you marry for love too; it’s not like the Abberlines have any immediate desire to become nobility.” Freddy dipped his head to the side in the way that one does when they decide to allow something, eyes lost in some distant vision of the chaos that an Abberline-Frye wedding would involve.

Florence huffed out something that sounded like a laugh. “I still have no immediate intentions to marry the bloke; calm down.” She cut into a slice of carrot with her fork, refusing to look her brother in the eyes while discussing marriage. “Jacob is just a… nice fellow that I wouldn’t mind spending more time with.” For a moment, it seemed like Lissie was about to say something horribly filthy so Florence quickly interjected to keep the conversation focused, “So… you’re okay with Jacob and I?”

“Yes, so long as he doesn’t become too forward and at least tries to follow the proper rules of courting--”

“Because we kissed today and--”

“Damn it, Florrie! Can you do anything normally?” Despite his words and the hands that rubbed across his face, she could tell that he was fighting back a smile.

Lissie erupted into satisfied giggling, clapping her hands together like she’d just watched a world-class play at the theatre. “That’s my girl! How was it? Was it as romantic as we’d discussed?”

“Well, there wasn’t any rain or flowers involved but--”

“Right, I’m off to bed.” Freddy rose from his seat, rubbing the corners of his mouth with a napkin. Florence smiled in that impish way of hers, dimple boring into her cheek when Freddy gestured between the two women. “I’m okay with the idea of you and Jacob being together but, I beg of you, I need no details; you should reserve those for letters to our sister.”

Florence and Lissie broke out into laughter, watching Freddy walk dejectedly up the stairs. Lissie collected up her skirts and plonked herself down beside Florence, grabbing the opened wine bottle from across the table and pouring some for herself and Florence. “Well, you have to tell me all about it now. I might die if not.”

A slap came to the maid’s arm. “Don’t be so melodramatic.” Then, there was a pause during which Lissie stared at Florence, swirling the wine in her glass. Florence looked just about ready to burst, a sudden grin splitting her face. “God, it was lovely-- he was lovely. Right, we were at the pub and we’d gotten our drinks when--”

Lissie listened to Florence’s babbling, a warmth in her chest that proclaimed pride, smiling at this tale of budding love. It was a wonder how, only a month or so ago, this same girl loathed the idea of romance; he had cracked her well and fully, much to both of their joy, it seemed. A gentle flush grew on Florence’s face, that little dimple of hers never disappearing, as she explained the events of the day.

Call it a psychic inclination or just a gut feeling but Lissie knew that he would be good for her. It was only a matter of time before she’d be making wedding preparations. Oh, the thought alone made her giddy.

[angelic-holland]

Miley // th x fem!oc

Summary: Tom meets a singer at a club she’s performing at and she decides to take him home for the night. 

Part of my Drive North series; you can read the rest here. Feel free to listen to the song Miley by the SWMRs, as it is an inspiration for the story. Yes, they are singing about Miley Cyrus but Miley is an OFC here. 

Warnings: smut, nsfw, 18+ please, degradation kink, mild choking, dom!Tom (bc ooF), mentions of past drug and alcohol abuse, swearing

word count: 5.4k

Tom was on a small break from filming after the Spiderman: Far From Home premiere. Harrison had brought him to a small club, he said a band was playing he thought Tom would love. He was a few drinks in, hanging out at the bar while Harrison danced with a pretty girl. He heard the band make their way on stage and turned to watch them set up.

****

Miley lit up the blunt and took a drag of it before passing it to Billie, and they passed it to Rainne before Miley took the last drag.

“Alright, fuck pop on three,” she says, holding her hand in the middle as her bandmates followed suit.

“Fuck pop!” The cheered, tossing their hands up in the air, snickering as they left the backroom.

“Hey what’s up fuckers, it’s your least favorite band Cheeky Devils here, time to make some noise!” Miley says into the main microphone, a huge grin spreading across her face as the club cheers and shouts.

****

Holy fuck, Tom watched as the main singer spoke into the microphone. He tried to pay attention to what she said but he could only pay attention to her. She had bright pink hair, a ripped up Green Day T-shirt, a tight leather skirt, fishnet stockings, and leather boots. She had pink lipstick that just about matched her hair and the way she licked her lips as she talked drove him crazy.

He didn’t know who she was but he wanted to find out. He pulls out his phone and googles the band name and finds a website they have, advertising their music, posting upcoming gigs, talking about how each of them came to be in the band. He clicked on her profile, or at least he was pretty sure it was her, the hair in her picture was bright blue but her facial features were the same.

Hey whats up fuckers my names Miley, founder and lead singer of this lil group, just a group of folx trying to figure their lives out and making good music while they do it.

****

Miley was probably a little too high as she sang the chorus of their third song in the set, a little off rhythm and Billie could tell, giving her glances every so often as she jumped up and down, her hair getting stuck in her face.

She scanned the crowd to see if there was anyone she might want to bring home, feeling like it was going to be one of those nights.

It was pretty crowded, the dance floor full of people jumping up and down or grinding on each other. She noticed a few people sitting at the bar, one guy wasn’t paying too much attention, sitting on his phone. When he did look up, his eyes met hers and she let her eyes wander down his body, practically undressing him with her eyes as much as she could.

He was wearing a tight white T-shirt, his arms looked fucking perfect as he took a sip of his drink. He was wearing what looked like jeans that hugged his thighs so nicely she could ride them for days. She knew the weed was making her horny so she shook it off, putting her attention to the final part of the song, making the vocals perfect as it finished. They had another five songs in the set and they took a pause to all grab some water.

“How’s everyone doing tonight? Having fun?” Miley said, her voice rough from some of the shouted lyrics.

The crowd cheered as Rainne cued them for the start of the fourth song.

****

Tom couldn’t help but get hard when he saw the way Miley looked at him. The way her eyes scanned his body, the way she would still sing perfectly while focusing her attention on him.

He fiddled in his seat, downing the rest of his beer and motioning to the bartender for another one.

He scanned the crowd of people, looking for Harrison but noticing that he was nowhere to be found. He must’ve slipped out with whoever he was dancing with.

For the rest of their set Tom just watched, watched as Miley jumped up and down as she sang, her voice rougher and deeper as the night moved on. He smirked when he noticed her nipples through her shirt, not so subconsciously licking his lips.

****

As they finished their set Miley noticed the man licking his lips, his hand gripping his beer bottle so tight she thought it might break.

“Thank you London! Hope to see more of you all later!” Miley said as the crowd cheered, she set the microphone down and grabbed her water bottle finishing it off as her and her bandmates left the stage.

As they made their way back to their dressing room Billie elbowed her, “who were you eye fucking back there?”

“No idea,” Miley laughs, saying hi to some people who were standing around outside their dressing room.

“Can we get a picture with y’all?” A woman asks, eagerly holding up her phone.

“Sure, would love to,” Miley says as the three of them stand behind the woman and smile for her photo.

“Okay, Miley, you’re going to go out there and you’re going to find that guy and fuck him silly,” Billie says as they walk into the dressing room.

“Ughh, I don’t know if he’d be down for what I want,” Miley whines, flopping down on the couch.

“Well, you know what? You’ll never fucking know unless you get your ass out there and find out. And if he’s not down then you kick his ass out of your hotel room. Easy as that,” Billie says.

“Fine, but it’s a total bust I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“Oh it won’t be, I’ve got faith in you and whoever you decide to bring home.”

“Oh shut up, I’m gonna get a little more stoned first,” Miley said digging through her purse to find her dab pen. She took a few hits before tossing it back in her purse, standing up.

“I’ll see you all bright and early at 2pm tomorrow for our drive to the next show, don’t have too much fun fuckers,” Miley says as she left the dressing room.

****

Tom hung out at the bar after the set, finishing his beer and looking towards the hallway that went to what he assumed was the dressing room.

He watched as Miley came walking down the hallway, turning his head when he noticed her notice him staring.

He turned towards the bar and looked down the neck of his empty beer bottle, fingers tapping along the wood of the counter. She sat next to him, his eyes darted to her fingers which seemed to copy his movements, tapping along the counter.

“H-hi,” Tom stuttered out, shit, he’s never been this nervous trying to pick up a girl before.

He turned to face her, watching as she slowly smirked, “you talking to me?”

She still hasn’t turned in her seat, fingers creating a familiar beat against the counter.

“Yes.”

“Is there a reason you said hi or?”

“I, I wanted to say I really loved your set, those were all your songs?”

“Yeah, I wrote most of them, the rest of the band help me come up with the tunes and rhythms and shit.”

“So you’re a writer?”

“Nah, just song lyrics, nothing special,” Miley shakes her head, finally turning it to look at Tom.

She was a lot prettier up close, she only wore the bright pink lipstick, the rest of her face bare, she had lots of freckles which he wasn’t able to see while she was on stage.

“Gonna keep staring at me or say something?”

“Well what do you want me to do?”

“Nah, not how this works cutie, want someone to tell me what they want, what they’re going to do to me. So, you know my name? What’s yours?”

“Tom,” he says, turning his body towards her.

“So Tom, what are you going to do to me? If I think you’re worth my time.”

Tom’s whole demeanor changed, standing up and resting his hand on her opposite hip, his lips ghosting over her ear.

“Well, Miley, you’re the type of girl who’s a leader, who likes to be in charge out here, that’s why you’re being a little bit of a brat, but in the bedroom, oh sweetheart in the bedroom,” Tom says, “in the bedroom you want someone to take control, tell you what to do, make you feel everything and still leave you begging for more.”

She had tilt her head back a little, her hair pushed away from her neck, her eyes shut, imaging what Tom was saying.

“Go on Tom, how’d you make me feel everything?”

“Well Miley, I don’t know if you want me to tell you here, don’t want you to come in front of everyone, so why do I show you?” Tom whispers, his mouth ghosting over her neck now.

“Fuck, let’s get out of here Todd,” Miley grins standing up as Tom stood up with her.

“Hmm, try again sweetheart,” Tom says, pulling her flush against him.

“Tim?” Miley smirks, eyes looking wickedly up at Tom.

“Not quite,” he says, his hands grabbing her ass.

“Tom?”

“There ya go,” He says, pulling her with him towards the front door.

“Hotel’s only a block away,” Miley says as the quickly leave the club.

There was a line of people waiting to get in, a few people noticing the pair and taking pictures, shouting to them.

“Wait, how do they know you?” Miley asks, her brows furrowed.

“I’m full of surprises sweetheart,” Tom says, “lead the way.”

Miley all but drags Tom back to her hotel, his hands all over her, but never where she wanted them the most on the elevator ride up. She manages to unlock her door and he pushes her inside, slamming her back against the door.

“Fuck Tom, wanna show me what you’d do to me?” Miley says as Tom leaves rough marks down her neck.

“Patience sweetheart, come on, strip for me,” he says, stepping away from her.

She grins, walking towards the center of the room in front of the bed, pushing him to sit down on it.

She slowly unzipped her skirt, kicking off her boots while tugging the skirt down her legs.

“Take your time pretty girl, wanna see all of you,” Tom says, resting his hands behind him as he watched Miley strip.

She slowly pulls off the fishnet stockings, underneath was a black thong which left nothing to the imagination. She paused there, shrugging off her leather jacket and playing with her tits above her shirt before pulling it over her head.

“Wow pretty girl, those tits look even better in person. Couldn’t help but think you were teasing everyone when you were jumping up and down tonight, no bra on, could practically see your nipples through your shirt,” Tom says, wetting his lips.

“Had my eyes on you the whole night Tom,” Miley says, pulling her thong down and tossing it to the side.

“I saw the way you looked at me, stripping me with your eyes.”

“Wanna strip you for real,” Miley says, moving to straddle his lap.

“Nuh uh, baby girl,” Tom says, placing his hands on her hips and stopping her.

“What?”

“I think you deserve a punishment, for teasing me all night, for being a little brat,” Tom says and watches as Miley shudders, nodding.

“Anything you don’t want me to do, just tell me to stop okay?” He says, his hands maneuvering her so her cunt rested between his thighs, her upper body resting on the bed next to him.

“Okay Tom,” Miley says, wiggling her ass a little.

“Fuck, you really wanna get it don’t you?” He says, smacking her ass lightly.

“Fuck, come on Tom, show me you’ve got what I want,” Miley says, her hands digging into his leg.

“Don’t tell me what to do, that’s my job,” Tom says as his hand slaps her ass again, causing her to buck against him, “be still baby girl, gotta take your punishment like a good girl.”

“What if I don’t want to be a good girl?”

“Oh yeah? What would you want to be Miley?” Tom says, his hand colliding with her ass again.

“Fuck, Tom!” Miley cries out as he slaps her ass over and over again.

“What do you want to be Miley? Answer me,” Tom says, changing his rhythm, alternating slaps randomly so she never saw what would come next.

“Wanna be, oh fuck, wanna be your slut Tom,” Miley cries out as he pushes her thighs apart.

“Fuck, you’re practically drooling onto the bed for me Miley, such a dirty slut, thinking about what you want me to do to this dripping cunt huh?”

“Fuck, yes please Tom,” Miley says as his hand comes down to smack her cunt, a little lighter than his slaps to her ass. She bucks against him and moans into her arm, trying not to be too loud.

His hand wraps around her pink hair and tugs, forcing her to look up as his other hand slaps her cunt harder.

“Tom!” She cries out as he drops her hair, his hand moving to hold open her thighs.

“Why don’t you get on all fours for me pretty girl?” He says, slapping her ass before running a finger through her dripping cunt. He lets go of her and smirks as she scrambles up farther on the bed, moving to stick her red ass up and her head down.

“You were born to be like this huh, know this position well?” Tom asks, smirking as he moves behind her.

“Yes, fuck, Tom, my favorite position,” Miley whines as his finger slips between her folds, moving to rub her clit a little before pushing into her cunt.

“Take my finger so well, want another one?”

“Yes, please fuck me, please Tom, want another finger, please,” Miley groans as he pushes another finger alongside his first, feeling his jean covered legs rub against her thighs and sore ass.

“This feel good slut? Tell me when you’re going to come, wanna hear you loud and clear,” he says, his thumb rubbing harsh circles on her clit. His other hand holds her ass, switching between groping it and slapping it, watching it bounce as he fucked her with his fingers.

“Fuck, Tom gonna come, almost there,” Miley whines, fucking herself back on his fingers.

He quickly pulls his hands away from her, she could only feel his jeans rough against her as she whined.

“Only good girls get to come, and what are you Miley? Are you a good girl?”

“No, I’m, I’m your slut,” she whines, pushing back against nothing.

“Exactly,” Tom says, his hand trailing up her back to tug at her hair, pulling her back flush against his clothed chest, “and do sluts get to come?”

“No,” Miley stutters out as he drops her back down on the bed.

“Good, now you tell me when you’re close again, or else you’ll get in big trouble,” Tom says, the feeling of his jeans disappearing from her thighs, she turns her head to see him lying on his back, his head right underneath her pussy.

“Yes Tom, tell you when I’m close,” Miley says as his hands wrap around her thighs, bringing her pussy to his lips. He takes his time, slowly licking the juices from her before lightly sucking on her clit, letting her ride his face for a little bit until her whines got a little too high pitched, so he switched to fucking her hole with his tongue, his fingers flicking her clit, causing her to buck and shake above him.

“Fuck, Tom, I’m close again, please don’t stop please let me come, please,” Miley whines, crying out when he pushes her up, wiggling out from underneath her.

“Hmm, don’t think you’ve earned that yet slut,” Tom says, his hands pulling off his jacket and shirt.

“Please, Tom wanna earn it wanna earn the right to come, tell me how to, please,” Miley whines, her cunt clenching around nothing, just waiting for something to fill her.

“Such a needy little slut huh? No worries, I’ll fuck you eventually,” he says slipping off the bed. She starts to turn her head to see what he’s doing but he stops her, “eyes up front baby, be patient.” He quickly strips of his jeans and underwear, grabbing a condom from his wallet and slipping it on.

“Is this what you wanted slut?” He asks as he bottoms out, smirking as she calls out his name.

“Yes Tom, wanted this, wanted you to fuck me,” Miley says as he fucks into her, leaning down to kiss and mark her back with his lips.

“Fuck you’re so tight baby girl, when’s the last time you’ve been fucked?”

“Been a while, been on tour, never found someone willing to, oh fuck, fuck me like this,” Miley groans as he pulls her flush with his bare chest now.

“Oh yeah? Fuck you nice and hard? Fuck you like this?” He says, his words accentuated with each thrust of his hips. His hands grab her tits, pinching her nipples between his fingers as she cries out for him.

“Gonna come, oh god Tom, please can I come? Please let me come,” Miley whines as Tom’s fingers leave her nipples, a hand wrapping around her throat.

“Gimme a second Miley, don’t be fucking greedy, wait for me,” he whispers in her ear, pounding into her as his hand moves to rub her clit, “hold it slut, be a good girl for me and hold it.”

“Fuck, Tom, I-,” her words cut off as his grip tightens around her throat, causing her to clench around him, feeling her orgasm fast approaching.

“Come for me slut,” he says, releasing her throat and dropping her to the bed as he comes, his thumb rubbing steady circles on her clit as she comes around him.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Miley mumbles into the sheets as Tom pulls out of her, stripping his cock off the condom and tossing it in the trash can by the bed. He flops down next to her, pulling her into his chest.

“Was that okay?” He asks, pushing the hair out of her eyes.

“Yes oh my god, that was, amazing,” Miley laughs, coughing a little.

“Here lemme get you some water,” Tom says, scooting out of the bed.

“It’s fine, I gotta pee anyways, I’ll be back,” Miley says standing up and making her way to the bathroom.

***

Miley steps inside the bathroom and closes the door, looking at her appearance in the mirror. Her hair is fucked, her lipstick slightly smeared, marks down the side of her neck, her ass sore.

She peed and grabbed water, taking a sip, coughing a little before bringing the rest back to bed.

“Hey,” Tom says, reaching his arms out.

Miley crawls back into bed, taking another sip of the water before handing it to Tom, cuddling into his side.

“So you gonna tell me how all those people seemed to recognize you?”

“I’m, yeah I’m an actor,” Tom says, placing the water on the side table.

“Woah that’s dope, what movies and shit have you been in?”

“I was in Lost City of Z, Edge of Winter, uhh Spiderman.”

“Oh sick, never seen those, did you like them?”

“Yeah, love it, you’ve seriously never seen me in a movie?”

“Uhh, no? Am I supposed to recognize you or?”

“Nah just thought you might.”

“Yeah I’m not a nerd, don’t watch comic book movies.”

“They aren’t just for nerds!”

“That’s what nerds say.”

“Pssh, I think you’d like the Spiderman movies.”

“Are you a dork in them?”

“Very much so.”

“Who are you? You like a British Spiderman or something?”

“Nope, I’m Spiderman from Queens.”

“Wait, you’re Spiderman Spiderman?”

“Yeah what else would I be?”

“I don’t fucking know,” Miley shrugged, shivering a little.

“Here lemme get our shirts,” Tom says pulling away to grab their shirts from the floor. He tosses them to Miley who pulls on Tom’s as he gets back in bed with his underwear on, pulling her ripped up Green Day T-shirt on.

“Wow this is comfy,” Miley laughs as Tom settles back down beside her.

“So what’s the next stop on this little tour of yours?”

“Scotland, got a cool gig in Edinburgh then Glasgow, we’re opening for a band on tour for the next month.”

“Oh that’s so cool what band?”

“The SWMRs, I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of them, a punk rock band, just released their second album a few months ago.”

“Hmmm, I haven’t but I’ll have to give them a listen.”

“They’re pretty great.”

“I’ll believe it,” Tom says, running his fingers up and down Miley’s arm.

“That was fun, thank you for uh, being down with what I wanted.”

“Of course I’m glad that you took well to what I was thinking you wanted, you know what I wanted to do when I first saw you up close though?”

“What?” Miley laughs as Tom tickles her sides.

“Count your freckles.”

“Oh well buddy that might take a long time,” she says as his hands caress her face.

“I’ve got time.”

He straddles her hips, his finger gently touching each freckle, counting out loud, kissing across her face as he does.

****

“You’ve got 68 freckles on your face,” he says, laying back down next to her.

“Wow, I’ll make sure to keep note of that,” Miley laughs as Tom lays back down next to her.

“This was fun,” Tom says, yawning.

“Yeah, wanna, uhh, no that’s stupid.”

“What? Nothing you could say is stupid.”

“Do you wanna spend the night maybe order some pizza or something?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Tom smiles, grabbing his phone.

“I’ll eat literally anything but pineapple,” Miley laughs as Tom opens his phone.

“Three missed calls, hey, my mom called me and she usually only calls me when somethings wrong, I’ll be right back,” Tom says, getting up off the bed.

Miley shrugs, reaching for her purse at the end of the bed and grabbing her phone as Tom walked into the bathroom, returning his mom’s call.

***

“Mum, what’s wrong?” Tom says as his mom picks up the phone.

“Tom oh my god I was so worried, I saw those pictures of you and that girl and I wasn’t sure if I’d ever hear from you again.”

“Wait, what are you talking about?”

“That girl, people are posting photos of you two leaving the club and I looked her up, she’s bad news Tom, she has a pornographic blog, she went to rehab for drinking and cocaine, Tom she’s seriously disturbed.”

“Mum, this is so embarrassing, Miley, she’s just a girl I hooked up with why is this such a big deal?” Tom whispers, not wanting Miley to hear him.

“Because there are photos of you everywhere and everyone is talking about her being a bad influence.”

“What do you mean everyone? The one person who commented and is jealous? Mum I swear, you don’t need to worry about it I’m fine we’re just gonna order pizza and hang out.”

“Tom, you really need to be more careful about who you’re seen with it could really affect you.”

“Mum it’ll all blow over, people will find something else to obsess over, I really don’t think a few pictures of us really matter.”

“Tom, you know what? You can learn from this, you can learn how to control yourself and how to be private with what you do, and who you do it with. I just don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Mum I’m an adult. Stop worrying, I can take care of myself.”

“Love, I’m your mum that doesn’t come with an age limit, I’m supposed to worry.”

“Okay you can worry but just, just let me do me.”

“Okay Tom, just, be safe?”

“I will, promise, love you mum.”

Tom sighs, hanging up and walking back to the bed.

“You know, the internet fucking sucks,” Miley says, showing him a tweet with a picture of them walking out of the club.

“Tom with some cokehead skank, guess he’s hit rock bottom,” Tom reads out loud, “What the fuck?”

“I’m a cokehead skank what can I say? Was that your mom worrying about her boy being with a cokehead skank?”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Tom says, sitting down next to Miley, “you’re not a ‘cokehead skank’ you know. And even if you are, I mean, that’s your decision, so fuck them.”

“I mean, I was, a cokehead skank, I mean, I was young, stupid, our band was just starting out and a guy who was our ‘manager’, he uh, he got me into coke and I had to go to rehab for awhile, now I’m sober, okay well I don’t do coke or drink anymore. I smoke weed but that’s just to take the edge off. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I should have warned you I just didn’t know you were you and that people would be attacking you or me like this. And jesus, I don’t know why I’m saying all this, I don’t normally ramble, just when I’m nervous.”

“Miley, you don’t, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. Promise. Hey, why don’t we order some pizza, you can talk a little bit if you want, or you could just relax, whatever.”

“Yeah, I’d like that, thanks,” Miley says, resting her head on Tom’s shoulder.

“Alright, What kind of pizza do you want? Dealer’s choice. Fuck that was a bad way of putting it,” Tom says, groaning.

“You’re fine, oh my god that’s so funny,” Miley laughs, “let’s just do a cheese.”

Tom orders a pizza and waits to see if Miley wants to talk.

“You know, I think my favorite part about my mum calling was that she snooped so much into you that she found a porn blog of yours.”

“Oh my god,” Miley groans against his shoulder, “I just, it’s not a porn blog, it’s art, I post pictures of myself in pretty lingerie, tied up, never show my face, only call myself M, I know some of the band’s fans or whatever know about it but oh my she must’ve had to dig deep to find it.”

“I mean, isn’t that basically porn?”

“Let’s call it, artistic pornography.”

Tom burst out laughing watching Miley’s frown break out into giggles.

“My mum thinks that you’re disturbed, I’m not kidding, her words.”

“Well, what other types of girls have you been with that she knows of? Any like me?”

“No, never, always went for the good girls.”

“Ah and we learned that I’m definitely not that. Fortunately for her I’ll be on the road tomorrow and all this will blow over soon enough.”

“You know, I’d love to uh, get the chance to see you again.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, just a thought.”

“Okay, I’ll give you my blog and you can jack off to pictures of me, I’ll be sure to post some just for you.”

“Oh yeah? What if I want to do more than come all over myself thinking about you?”

“Well, we’ve got all night, you have all the time in the world to fuck me, right now,” Miley says, straddling his hips.

“Fuck, what about the pizza?”

“Gonna make it quick then huh?”

“Yeah we do,” Tom says as Miley pulls his underwear down his legs, only far enough for his cock to bounce up against his stomach.

“Fuck, can I ride you?”

“Yes, gotta grab a condom,” Tom says, watching as Miley scrambles off his lap, grabbing the second condom from his wallet.

“Fuck why do you keep more than one condom in your wallet?”

“Was hoping I’d get lucky sweetheart,” Tom says, moaning as her hand wrapped around his cock, rolling on the condom.

“Well, congrats, you’ve officially gotten lucky,” she says, straddling his hips again.

“Why thank you,” Tom says, kissing her as he slides his cock against her folds. His hands grip her hips, stopping her from sitting fully on his cock.

“Come on, no teasing, we don’t have time for that,” Miley says, gasping as he thrusts up into her, letting her bounce on top of him.

“Gonna make you come quick and dirty, gonna make you come all over my cock before getting our pizza, hair all fucked up, neck all marked up, they’ll know what you did, how does that make you feel Miley?”

“Fuck, Tom, makes me feel, feel dirty Tom,” Miley moans as his hand pinched her nipple over his shirt,

“Yeah? Like a dirty little slut, knowing everyone knows I’m fucking you? Making you mine, fuck, feel so good around my cock.”

“Fuck, Tom, touch my clit, please, wanna come, Tom, make me come, please can I come?”

“Good girl, come on, come all over my cock for me,” Tom says, sucking on a spot on her neck as his thumb rubs her clit.

“Fuck, Tom, oh my god,” Miley cries out, coming around his cock as she moves faster, clenching around him.

“Gonna come, fuck Miley, gonna come in this pretty cunt of yours,” Tom groans as he comes, Miley’s hips slowing.

“Shit,” Miley laughs as Tom’s hands run up and down her sides, helping her off his cock.

His phone buzzes as he’s tossing away the condom, “fuck, that must be the pizza.”

“Go fucking get it dummy,” Miley says, shoving him slightly.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Tom laughs, tugging his underwear back up and grabbing his jeans, pulling them on. He grabs his wallet, flashing Miley a smile before leaving the room.

He whistles as he makes his way down the stairs to the front entrance, eyes widening as he sees cameras flashing and people crowded around the entrance.

“Fuck,” he mutters, calling the pizza guy, “Yeah, is there anyway you could come round the side door? I uh, there’s just a commotion at the front.”

“Yeah I can see, I’ll be around the side in a second,” the guy says before hanging up.

“Thanks mate,” Tom says, paying the man and giving him a nice tip.

He makes his way back up to her room, knocking on the door.

“Who is it?”

“Tom? Duh?”

“Oh sorry I only know a Todd.”

He laughs, leaning his shoulder against the door, “sweetheart I’ll be whoever you want me to be.”

“Well hello there,” Miley says, swinging the door open, laughing as he stumbles into the room.

“Hi,” Tom laughs, pushing the pizza into Miley’s arms before tossing his phone and wallet on the bed and tugging his jeans down his legs again.

“Oh, round three? I don’t know I think I’d pay more attention to this pizza,” Miley says, sitting down on the bed and digging in.

“Hey save me some,” Tom says sitting down next to her and grabbing a slice.

****

Tom watches as Miley packs up her stuff the next morning, moving around the room and tossing her clothes into her suitcase.

“You should get lost, I gotta get drive to Scotland soon.”

“Oh? Well, if we’re ever in the same city at the same time, you should meet up again, you know, have some fun.”

“Oh? Am I your international booty call?” Miley laughs as she zips up her suitcase.

“I can be your international booty call,” Tom says.

“You can keep the shirt, and listen to their music,” Miley nods at her ripped up Green Day shirt Tom wore.

“I think that’s just an excuse for you to wear my shirt.”

“What? Never, take your shirt too I’ll leave this hotel shirtless.”

“No, you keep it, I insist.”

“Wow, such a gentleman,” Miley laughs, grabbing her purse and shrugging on her jacket over Tom’s shirt.

“Here, put your number in my phone, I’ll text you so you have mine,” he says, pushing his phone into Miley’s hand.

“Alright, alright,” Miley laughs at the contact name he had for her, “punk rock queen, really?”

“Yeah, what you don’t like it?”

“No I love it,” Miley giggles as she types her number in, “okay Tom, get outta here,” she says, leaning up to kiss him.

He lets himself get a little lost in the kiss, grabbing her ass in the leggings she wore before she pulls away, “if you keep that up I’m gonna want you to fuck me again and then Billie and Rainne will murder me.”

“Okay, bye Miley,” Tom says, leaving the hotel room.

“Bye Tom,” Miley waves as he shuts the door behind him.

[sevenseasofrog]

Lads ‘n Lasses

pairing: highschool!ben x fem!reader

summary: single sex schools are never boring

word count: 2982

a/n: wagwan gs, this might not be to everyone’s taste but i’ll see how it goes, this is the first time i’ve imagined myself as the reader while writing ?? not as someone else reading it ?? it’s also set in a manchesterish sort of place bc i had a major mind block trying to write about anywhere else other than where i actually live ,, that probably sounds weird idk aha, it’s defo an au where ben basically is still in education and all sorts of chaos takes place as the year moves forward ,, anyway ,, enjoy !! if you have any questions or likewise feel free to send an ask bc i see how it could be semi confusing ,, love u all a lotta :) ❤️

here’s also some stuff that could make it less confusing (especially if you’re not familiar with lingo from north west england, i’ll maybe add to this with each new chapter that comes out :)

St. Mary’s/ Mary’s- the all girls school the reader attends, quite middle class and full of students who like to make drama for their own entertainment, strong focus on languages and arts

St. Peter’s/ St. Pete’s - the all boys ‘brother’ school to St. Mary’s, very laddish with a focus on sports and science

Niamh & Maria - the reader’s two closest and longest friends

Tram/Met - British version of an overground subway?

Shout - another word for a houseparty

Snide - unfair

Swear down - saying you are telling the truth

also, the reader and ben are between the ages of like 17 and 18ish, the whole thing isn’t very accurate to the uk school system but it works a little better like that so yall are gonna have to go with it aha

ps, this chapter is spilt in two bc i got very carried away when writing it and tumblr has a word limit, hmph. however, that does technically mean that i can say i’ve written two chapters not just one ?? go me !!

Chapter 1: September

4th of September, the night before a new term, new academic year and a nearly fresh start. Your last year at St Mary’s had not been something you were dreading so to speak, and now it was finally here. Thanks to upcoming exams, you only had a little over five months to get through before freedom, and eventually, a completely clean slate at a new, far less intimidating school environment. Anticipation building, you called it a night

6:15am. You woke up to the painful sound of your alarm clock, early morning sun peeking through the split between the curtains. Eager to silence the blaring noise you crawled out of the comfort of the duvet and hastily clicked the stop button in the centre of your phone screen. You made your way into the bathroom, careful not to wake your parents, brushed your teeth and quickly got undressed before stepping into the shower, letting the cool water run down your back without getting your hair wet, since you had it cut and washed yesterday afternoon. Slipping on your school uniform you caught eye of yourself in the mirror and decided that you had nothing to lose by putting on a little makeup, you had time after all. It was about 7am when you made your way downstairs, the house still quiet with only you awake. These mornings were the ones you liked best, just you and your own thoughts, with no one to bother you other than the dogs. It was still relatively warm during the September days so you chose to leave your jumper hung over a chair in the kitchen, putting just your blazer over your crisp, white blouse. Throwing an apple and cereal bar into your bag for later in the day, you figured that you might as well also pack some paracetamol and chewing gum for good measure, knowing it would come in handy eventually. You headed into the hallway to sit on the bottom step of the stairs to put your shoes on, tying the laces as tight as you possibly could, slung the black tote over your shoulder and grabbed your set of keys, which were usually on a hook which your dad had attached to the wall earlier in the year.

The walk to the tram stop was pleasant enough. There was no real breeze and you walked with your hands in you pockets to the beat of the music. Skipping down the steps to the platform to buy a ticket for the week, the change rattled in your pocket, and you had to cover it to stop anything flying out. Once you had finally managed to get the machine to produce a ticket after it spat out the coins you tried to use a few times, you spun round and walked towards the sheltered seats down the further end of the stop. It was only 7:45 by this stage and there were still very few people around. Missing the school rush was certainly worth it for you, and it also meant there was time to grab a coffee on the way to school with Niamh and Maria, who both got on at later stops anyway. You pulled your phone out of your pocket, deciding to text your parents, as you did every morning to let them know you were okay. You skipped a few songs before slipping your phone back into your pocket and looking up to examine your surroundings, following a good few weeks of not coming to the somewhat grimy metro stop, nothing had changed. The ground was still caked in chewing gum, graffiti littered the ticket machines, and the bin was, as ever, overflowing.

There was one thing different though, slightly odd too. A blonde haired boy who you had never seen before was stood on the opposite platform. Weird. It was then that you noticed he was in the uniform for St. Peter’s, with a backpack hung on one shoulder and a gym bag on the floor- grim move from the newbie. It suddenly hit you however. He was on the wrong platform, and could end up getting on a tram further into the city centre rather than away from it. God, this was awkward. You could leave him? it would be kind of funny? but also a bit snide.

No.

Don’t do that you told yourself. Deciding to ‘start the new term right’ you cleared your throat before shouting across

“You going to St. Pete’s mate?”

He looked up from the ground, obviously somewhat confused, checking to see whoever the person who had shouted was talking too. Luckily, this was quite easy, given that he then noticed that he was in fact the only person on the platform. You gave a wave and as friendly a smile as you could muster given it wasn’t even 8 o’clock yet, in a desperate attempt to get his attention, which just so happened to work.

“Um, yeah. Why?”

“Because given that you’re on the wrong platform, you’re gonna have a very hard time getting there”. His jaw dropped a little

“You are joking, right?”

“Nope!”, you popped the ‘p’, just for emphasis, “So... are you just gonna stand there like a lemon or change platforms then?”. He quickly picked his bag off the ground and jogged up the steps to the bridge. As he crossed you rolled the waistband of your skirt up, realising that you previously looked a little to nun-ish for your liking. By the time you had finished fixing up your appearance the mysterious blonde was plodding down the steps, towards you. Shit. Now what?

You had just about composed yourself by the time he reached you.

“Ben. Ben Jones” he spoke, before offering his hand to shake.

“You’re very proper aren’t you!?”, you thought out loud “guessing you're not from up here then hm? Name’s y/n l/n by the way, I go to St. Mary’s”, you said, trying to remain friendly.

“Yeah, moved up from Bournemouth at the start of summer. My parents wanted to come up here so I had a chance of getting some sort of sports scholarship or something for rugby, y’know, for uni and that”. He spoke with quite a low, quiet voice, but definitely had a southern accent that you couldn’t imagine going any time soon. Now he was stood nearer, you had managed to get a clearer picture of Ben; he was very well built and had the physique of a genuine sportsman, He wasn’t too tall- but still taller than you by a considerable amount. His facial features were mostly soft, although his nose looked like it could have been broken in past games and he had the most striking green eyes.

“Well, you’d have had a pretty difficult time getting anywhere if you were stuck in the centre of town.” you both let out a laugh.

“Honestly, I’m such a melt, only I could do that on one of the few days that being on time actually matters”. You broke eye contact momentarily to see that a tram was approaching.

“Right then” you said, stepping towards the edge of the platform. “We’re a bit early but I normally get a coffee anyway, you can come if you want? I mean, you don’t have to get this one if you don’t want but if you do then the offer’s there..” You trailed off, noticing that you had waffled on a bit.

“Aha, no it’s fine! I’d be happy to get this one, you’re literally the first person I’ve spoken to who’s like, my age so it’s not like I have anyone to wait for. Plus, I’ll probably get lost if you abandon me now.” He looked up with puppy dog eyes after picking his gym bag off the floor again.

Stepping on the tram, you decided to offer him your first piece of valuable advice; “Right… Well. If we’re gonna be mates I better give you the rules of the road up here”.

“Go on then, local expert”, he said with a smirk.

“First things first. Don’t put your bag on the floor. It’s crusty and makes you look like a gimp”.

“Noted”, he spoke as the pair of you sat on the grey seats.

“Second. Most of the boys are maniacs and the girls are awful bitches, I’d say that I’d help you figure out who’s who but you’ll probably be able to decide for yourself”.

“Hm, you’re really selling it to me. The brutal honesty is a nice touch”. You gave a playful punch to the side of his arm, with a grin smeared across your face.

“Swear down mate, you’ll thank me later for this though.”

The journey passed in a flash, the pair of you talking like friends reunited. You learnt that he had a beagle named Frankie, lived not too far from you, he played rugby for teams but also enjoyed drama and music.

“You’re quite the character aren’t you! can’t say I took you for a performing arts kinda guy”

“Well… What kind of person did you take me as then, all knowing-y/n”

“Well Ben from Bournemouth.. that would be telling wouldn’t it, I can tell you however that this is our stop though”. You both stood up, grabbing your bags and heading for the doors of the carriage. You had a text from Niamh and Maria earlier on in the journey saying they’d be late and there was no point waiting for them, so you carried on the walk alone with Ben.

“If I left you here right now, would you have any clue where to go?” you questioned, genuinely intrigued.

“Erm.. no… I would have to stand around for a bit and hope someone takes pity on me”

“What about google maps though??”

“Hmm.. Let’s just say that there’s a reason I don’t take geography”

The coffee shop was about the same distance from the tram stop as is was from school, and it was about 20 past 8 when you pushed open the door with a small chime. It was a cosy little café, situated on the corner of the market street with wicker chairs outside and brown leather sofas inside. You never stayed in however, much preferring to enjoy whatever you brought during the rest of the walk to school. Today was a latte day, no questions asked. You liked to rotate throughout a few different drinks, depending on your mood. Ben stood close by as you explained how you’d most definitely be on black coffee by this time next week, but you might have the odd pumpkin spiced latte as September moved into October, just for novelty really. He gave out a small chuckle,

“You really are in a league of your own aren’t you? I’ve known you like an hour and I’m convinced you hold the secrets of the universe or some shit”. You liked Ben. He was good company and you had a fair bit in common;

“and what if I did hold the secrets of the universe huh?”

“I’d use the black market to sell you to a looney philosopher somewhere or other and make myself some fat stacks.” You both doubled over in complete hysterics. Would it be weird to say that you’d never bonded so quickly with someone? yeah, probably you thought, brushing the idea away quickly. Your giggle fit was quickly broken up however when the barista announced that your drink was ready, you fished the loose change out of your pocket and handed it over moments later,

“keep the change mate” you said politely, turning on your heel towards the door once again.

“You really are quite the angel aren’t you?” the boy walking next to you said “ooooo, keep the change mate, I’m y/n and I am the source of all life and joy” he mocked.

“You know it blondie”, you retorted with a smirk.

You had walked a fair deal further, now following the main road and considerably nearer to school when Ben reached into his inside pocket .pulling out a cigarette and lighter. You silently watched out of the corner of your eye as he held the stick in his mouth and lit one end, he inhaled deeply before taking it from between his lips to exhale. Before his could bring his hand back up however, you plucked it from his fingers and drew a breath from it yourself before throwing it down and stamping on it. Ben simply stood with his mouth hung open looking dumbfounded. “Whoa steady on...What the fuck was that about then? Oh… and for the record, you owe me a cig now!”, he spoke with a tone of shock mixed with annoyance

“Boo-Hoo”, you spoke back, “But neither of us can have a first day back if we get excluded before we even get to school you dimwit. There’s teachers stood by the traffic lights down there”, you pointed further down the pavement. “See for yourself if you want…” you trailed off. Ben looked a little guilty, realising that he could have got you both in a good deal of trouble,

“Ah, Right, Okay… Sorry about that..”

“Don’t worry about it. Honestly. It’s fine, you’re new! You’ve got a lot to learn still”, you gave him a reassuring smile, but you could tell that he still felt a twinge of regret.

The pair of you carried on the walk in a comfortable silence, and as you approached St. Peter’s a thought struck you. “Right. After school, wait for me here, I don’t really want you being lost in a new town stuck on my conscience all night”

“How noble of you, Miss y/l/n! How will I ever repay you for this selfless act of charity!” He exaggerated, running his hands through his hair as he spoke.

“We’ll have to see about that one won’t we, I guess”, You hitched your bag back onto your shoulder properly. Before he turned into the courtyard of his new school he grabbed your arm,

“Wait a minute... you give off way too much chaotic energy for things to run smoothly. What’s your snap or your number or something incase something goes horribly wrong” He spoke again, with a slight twinkle in his eyes.

“Hm, go on then, I’ll give you my number then you can just add me on snapchat with it too if you really want. Two birds with one stone ‘n all that”, you reached into your bag and pulled out a pen. “Gimmie something to write on, chop chop matey!” you spoke hurridley, realising that you only had 10 minutes before you needed to be sat down in your first registration of the academic year. In a panic, he stuck out his hand, and you began to scribble down the first few digits.

“Fucking hell! I thought you were writing it down not tattooing it!”, he took in a sharp breath.

“Hm.. What.. Wait! Shit, sorry.. I’m a bit heavy handed”. You finished writing the numbers down with a conscious attempt not to press quite so hard and then threw the pen back into your bag.

“Aight then, I’ll see you later yeah?” He looked up at you,

“See ya later lemon boy”. You shot another smile before continuing on a few meters further down the path and approached the gates of St. Mary’s.

Hello old friend, you thought before taking a deep breath and turning into the school, with no way out for the next few hours at least. You stepped hurriedly through the labyrinth of corridors before reaching the room where you’d be registered. Throwing your bag onto your usual desk you could feel two sets of eyes on you.

“y/n l/n, You have some explaining to do! go on then, who’s the boy?” Niamh began, a devilish grin on her face.

“Gimme a second to sort my life out yeah? I just need to get my bearings then you can interrogate me”, you spoke, followed by a heavy sigh. After you put your bag in your new locker you returned to the desk where you were greeted by your long time friends once again. “Wait a minute, how do you even know? started hiring government spies or some shit?”

“Erm, no. But that’s quite a good idea actually. If you’re that desperate to know, Lewis sent me a message asking if you’d got a boyfriend over summer..” You let out a scoff before Maria could continue. “He still really likes you ya know?”

“Yes mum, I do know, you remind me most days” You all let out a laugh, attracting some attention from the neighboring tables.

“We’re off topic, you still need to explain yourself and we have like, 3 minutes until the bell goes” Niamh interrupted, she had always been the most conscious member of the group, as much as both you and Maria hated to admit.

“Right, I’ll keep it simple. I was at the met stop and he was stood on the wrong side so I told him to switch otherwise he’d never make it to school then he told me that his name’s Ben and he’s new and he’s in our year and then we got on the tram and then we went to get coffee then he decided he wanted a smoke and then I told him off and then we got to school and then I told him I’d meet him after school then I walked into school and now I’m here with you two” You barely paused for breath and gasped before either of your friends could continue, both of them looking shocked and rather confused.

“Right. You can explain that all again later in a bit only at least 76 times slower. ok? thanks? nice” is all Maria managed to respond before the door swung open and your teacher walked in...

Hope you enjoy !!❤️

Let me know if you want adding to the taglist !! :)