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cherry-leclerc · 11 months

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thinking of her ☆ cl16

genre: angst, marriage trope

word count: 1.8k

You and Charles take a visit to marriage counseling.

inspired by this !

req!... had some free time to write so thought i would work on a request i just got! short one, but i hope you enjoy :)

“Tell me why you’re both here.”

The room is silent and slightly cold. A large canvas hangs right in front of you as you take time to pretend you care about the family painted on it. Part of you actually does.

“Well, she thought it would be a good idea to drag us into this.”

Your eyes flicker to Charles and you would only hope that he could tell that you weren’t impressed by his answer. It was true, it was your idea to go to couple’s counseling, but only because you cared. You cared a lot. Sometimes you thought for sure he didn’t anymore.

“Honey, tell me what made you decide this.”

You wanted to burst with anger. To prove to her that this wasn’t completely your fault. He wasn’t perfect, he tested your patience and despite it all, you still loved him enough to try and salvage your marriage.

Your therapist stares back, pen ready to scribble possible solutions as if her words would really matter. Maybe, deep down, you didn’t like being here either, but you wanted to prove to Charles how he’s been a shit husband.

You wanted someone to back you up.

Taking a deep breath, you play with your wedding band. The one that you would normally admire, but now it just felt like pure suffocation. “He’s given me plenty of reasons to not trust him the way I once did and now I sit here like a fool thinking he might change.”

The way her pen glides is something you hate.

Looking back up at you both she takes a moment to analyze the couple. Charles sits with a blank expression, as if he really did have somewhere better to be. In his mind, he did. Then, there was you. Regardless of your words pouring with pure vexation, your body language displayed something else.

Your eyes were sad and tired. She easily noticed the way your hand would want to reach out to Charles, but would quickly grip tighter to your lap.

“Please, if you don’t mind, would you care to explain.”

You press your lips together. “I first noticed a difference 2 years into our marriage.”

“Chicken or fish?”

It was Charles’ day off from work in a long time and you were currently on a call with Pascale trying to figure out what to surprise him with. He always raved about how much he loved what you cooked for him.

“Fish. You guys were just here yesterday and I made grilled chicken, remember?”

You hum as you get into your car and start driving to the market. The conversation is cut short when you finally reach your destination. Walking through the aisle you decide it would be a fine idea to grab some wine you both love.

“Charles?” The brunette looks up, red wine in his hand, as you smile a bit confused. “What are you doing here? I thought you were playing padel with Lorenzo.”

“I was! Finished the game early and thought I would grab us some wine for later.” He gets closer as he kisses you and takes the kart from you. “Shopping for dinner?” You nod.

“Thought it’d be nice…” You look at the bottle and yes it’s red, but it's not the kind you both like. “Honey, you got the wrong one.” A panicked look flashes his face before he lets out a nervous laugh. Of course! I’ll change it right now.

“It only took a couple more slip ups for me to find out.”

The therapist nods as her attention turns to Charles, where he plays with his bracelets. “And what made you stay?” You want to laugh. Are we just going to spend time on me? She shakes her head. “We’ll get to him, I just want to hear from you first.”

“After I confronted him he swore he’d stop seeing her. I guess it was my fault for even believing him.”

“Amour!”

He runs into the living room, kitchen, basement, everywhere. Breathing hard he looks around the house as if the furniture will give up and tell him where you are. A loud thud echoes from upstairs. Two steps at a time, he darts up quickly into your bedroom. His heart stops when he sees you packing a suitcase. What are you doing?

You don’t answer. Don’t even spare a passing glance. Instead you slip the gold band off your finger as you throw it behind you. It only falls a few steps in front of him. He picks it up as he makes his way to you. “I’m so sorry.”

Your back faces him, but you don’t dare make a single sound. You curl your hand against the dress you were folding, bite hard on your lip to not let out a single sob. But your chest hurts, your tears feel like acid against your skin and you’re almost thankful for pain like that, that way what Charles did wouldn’t be the only thing that hurt.

He makes his way to kneel down in front of you as you stare down at the carpet. You had begged him only a few days ago to put down the deposit on it and for a while he said it wouldn’t be financially responsible, but later agreed. You hated the carpet now.

“Why? Just why?”

He’s far too embarrassed to even come up with an answer. “...I don’t know.”

When you finally look up at him he sees what he’s caused. Your eyes are bloodshot as your nose is rosy. Cheeks are so bright pink, it almost looked as if someone pinched them.

You let out a wet laugh as you drop your hands against your lap. “You know, when I woke up this morning and you were gone I thought to myself, ‘Wow. What did I do to deserve a husband who wakes up early enough to get me breakfast on my birthday?’ And I waited. And waited. But whatever! That’s fine! He probably got busy. Then Pascale called to confirm if we were still going out for dinner, to which I said, ‘Yes! Of course!...Yes, the gold bracelet! It was beautiful, thank you for helping him pick it out.’ I thought it was sweet, I did, but you never came. And again, the presents are not what mattered, but it was you. I texted you. I called you. I told myself you were probably too busy planning something sweet the way you always did. They all asked where you were and I had to lie and tell them you were going to be late. Do you know how stupid I felt when I saw you and her enter the restaurant holding hands? And then what did I do? I purposefully had you see me run out so you could chase after me, so that your family would never find out about your…fling.”

Charles keeps bowing his head lower and lower almost as if to hide from his mistakes.

“...So where’s my bracelet, huh? Because you got it for me for my birthday, right?” Extending your hand out hurts because you know deep down it was never for you.

“I don’t have it…” You click your tongue as you retract your arm. Of course you don’t, you seethe. With all your strength, you stand with wobbly knees as you start to walk away.

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”

And he should feel relieved, but instead he feels like a complete asshole. How could he ruin things with his wife who swore to love him with all her being? He knew you well enough to know that you always will and he couldn’t let that go. He would fix this.

He runs to the door to close it. Move, you spit out. He shakes his head as he hugs you.

“S-stop,” you say in a shaky voice as warm tears begin to flow once more. “It’s okay, just let me go…”

You go stiff when you realize he’s crying into your neck. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…He just keeps repeating it and you can’t stop yourself from hugging him back. He loved you and you loved him. That’s all that mattered.

“Just don’t do it again, okay?”

“So he cheated: you forgave him. He put her first and your marriage second.”

You flinch at her words because they only remind you how true they are. For a while, you thought you could both get over it, but you never really did. Not when you were already both standing on opposite sides of the road.

“Mom always did say I always saw the best in people.”

“And you…” Charles gulps. “What made you fall into an affair?”

Months ago, when you first found out, he didn’t have any answer to that question. But he did now.

“I wasn’t smart enough to appreciate my wife.” He looks at you as you avoid eye contact because you know the moment you looked into his eyes, you would fall all over again.

But you still did.

His eyes are sorry, you could tell, and the way his hand makes his way to you is enough for you to grow warm despite the cold room.

“I’ve made plenty of mistakes - I know that - but none of them could compare to what I did to us. For putting you through so much doubt…For making you think I didn’t love you, but I always did.”

You're crying now as you nod because this is all you ever needed to hear.

“If this was the bump in the road that we had to overcome to grow closer then I accept it because I love you too, Charles. It’s about time you realized that.”

Charles feels lighter, happier. Now that he gets to hold your hand after many fights, he’s reminded about all the things he loves about you. But nothing could have prepared him for you to let go of his hand.

“I want a divorce.”

He’s stunned. W-what? We just decided that we were fine, that we were moving on…

You shake your head as you laugh. “My apologies, God, did I make you believe a lie? Feels awful, doesn’t it?”

He furrows his brows as he tries to reach out for you but you keep stepping further back. “Back there you almost had me…You said, ‘...none of them would compare to what I did to us.’ Us. Did you suffer? Did you spend countless, empty nights, crying yourself to sleep wondering what you did wrong? No, because it was all me. It wasn’t what you did to us, it's what you did to me.” You spin your ring one last time before slipping it off and placing it in his hand. He wants to say something to make you change your mind, to oversee his past mistakes one more time, because he swore to himself it would be the last time. But he could tell you’ve made up your mind. You twist your heel, ready to walk away before taking one last look into his green eyes you once loved.

“And the baby is getting my last name.”

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut

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colleendoran · 1 year

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How Do I Do Stuff

The question was phrased a little strangely, and I don't want to embarrass the person by posting exactly what was said, but I'll answer it and hope this clears everything up.

I do almost all of my drawing by hand. No, I don't trace in Photoshop. Not a judgment on those who do, but I come from a generation of artists who did not use Poser programs or other digital tools. We learned to draw using a technique called the Sight Size method. I know a lot of people assume everyone - including the old masters - traced everything using optical tools, but while it is true some people did, it is just as true that most didn't, and you can draw with great accuracy if you learned how to draw the old fashioned way.

Sight Size breaks everything down into its barest components of geometric shapes and you build from there. Once you learn it, you never forget, and it applies to everything you will ever draw.

I learned it using a set of Famous Artist Course books my mom had since she was a kid, and they are still the gold standard. They're often on ebay. If I were you, I'd buy them.

I actually find using figure reference really annoying because I like exaggerations and modifications from reality in my final work.

This page from Neil Gaiman's Chivalry was drawn and painted without figure reference of any kind.

I don't know why people assume I trace all the time. If you were to try to use photographs to replicate these figures, you would find they are slightly off. There is no tracing here.

This is not to say I never use reference. This page, for example, was referenced from a photo of my mother. Isn't she pretty.

But this page of Sir Galaad was drawn and painted without reference.

He's pretty, too.

If he were real, I'm sure a lot of people would be very happy about it. But he's not. And had I reference, the art would have gone a lot faster. I had a time trying to nail this face that is very alive in my head but doesn't really exist.

Back in the ancient days, all cartoonists had to learn to draw and paint extemporaneously because reference was limited and digital tools didn't exist. While some high end artists had photography studios and professional models with costume and sets on hand, small fry like me were limited to what was in the house or available at my small local library, which was no bigger than a few rooms of my current house.

Artists kept extensive "morgue files" or "swipe files" which were collected from magazine clippings and photographs so we would have as much of what we might need on hand for quick reference. These ephemera collections could get unwieldy. I have thousands of photographs I've simply never sorted. I finally dumped most of my files this past year.

Have I ever traced anything? Of course, especially if I have to re-use a shot or setting over and over. Making extra work for myself is just silly. It's my job to make pictures, not to perform magical feats, like copying one shot after another over and over without making a mistake.

However, for almost 15 years of my career, I refused to copy or trace anything, and did not even own a lightbox. On the one hand, that forced me to learn to carefully examine what I saw. On the other hand, it was a stupid hill on which many deadlines died.

Only after I realized many professional artists had lightboxes and overhead projectors did I finally break down and get one.

The one thing I use my lightbox for more than anything is for tracing my thumbnail sketches to the final drawing paper. Instead of trying to capture the liveliness of the original sketch by copying what I see - only bigger - I blow the thumbnail up to the size I want the final art to be, then I trace over the thumbnail using a lightbox onto the final drawing paper.

Here's a look at thumbnails from the graphic novel Neil Gaiman's Snow, Glass, Apples.

I enlarged these on my computer to fit onto 11"x14" paper, and traced the thumbs before finishing the art which was drawn in pen and ink and colored in Photoshop.

While I obviously made some changes, the essence of the thumbs is there in the final work. Tracing my thumbs retains some of the looseness of the original sketches, which is often lost otherwise.

So, there is a valid purpose to tracing at times, though in my opinion, too much tracing can weaken drawing ability, substitute for developing skills, and make the work kind of stiff.

If you want to, I'm not your judge. But it's weird to me that people think I must be faking my skills in some way.

Ironically, the word cartoon comes from the Italian word cartone, which is a large heavy sheet of paper - also, the origin of the word carton.

Preparatory sketches were made on this paper which was then transferred to the final work surface via either tracing or by stamping little holes in the paper through which dust was sprinkled, recreating the contours of the drawing for the artist to follow.

So the origin of the word cartoon comes from a process often used...for tracing.

#snow glass apples #chivalry #neil gaiman #drawing

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taurusdesign · 2 years

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Elsa Kids Room (Availible for Everyone!)

Hello! I was finally able to complete my new set before The Sims 5 came out. I thought I should publish it now before you swear at me. Just kidding. Thank you again and again for your understanding, support and beautiful messages. I love you guys so much. <3

Our set, as the name suggests, is about children. Actually, I don't play with kids in The Sims. (I don't even play in real life. I mean, I like kids, but sometimes they can be very noisy.) But if I want to make a room for children, I want it to be like this. Simple and stylish. It's more simple actually. Our set contains a total of 45 items. Apart from my own creations, I cloned Maxis's books from the game and included them in the set. But I will share it openly in the next post after that. Because I didn't make them, I just converted. Anyways. If we count them, there are 59 items.

The highlight of the set is the bunk beds. Bunk beds came late to The Sims 4, but it was also very nice when they arrived. It's really cool to place other items under the bunk bed. I've also designed suitable items for this. There are items such as seating groups, desk, dreseer / bookcase that you can use with bunk beds. And you can also hang curtains on the bunks if you want. (I didn't use the curtain slot type this time :)

When placing the bunk beds, you need to place the base part according to which side the ladder is on in the bedding part. It also works if you don't place it, but your sim will look strange when climbing a non-ladder side.

The List Of Furnitures

Decorative Abacus

Decorative Box

Bunk Bed Base (Left, Right and Twin Ladders)

Bunk Bed Bedding

Bunkbed Chair (Seating and the Base)

Bunk Bed Curtains (Left and Right) - They are snapped right side automatically.

Bunkbed Desk

Bunkbed Dresser (Actually, it's a bookcase, but I gave it a dresser function because we can't place a bookcase under the bunk bed.)

Bunk Bed Loveseat (Seating and the Base)

Cabinets (9 pieces)

Decorative Calculator

Ceiling Light (Here's the thing about this. Normally, when making a lamp, we need to make a painting to spread light on the item. Since I couldn't spread the light as I wanted, I used the lights I used in my previous sets. If you place the lamp at the same angle where you placed it, it looks beautiful. Actually, it's not very important.)

Corkboards (These can also be snap to desk)

Desk

Desk Lamp

Dresser

Decorative Homework

Mr. Bloomy the Shining Bear

Nightstand (It looks like toilet)

2 Computers. (These two are the same, in fact, only one of them is compatible with the desk for the bunk bed.)

Decorative Pen Holder

Decorative Post-It.

Shelf

Single Bed Base and Bedding

Toy Box

Wall Mirror

I also added brass-gold swatch to the items on request. But I'm sharing it as a recolor because I added it later. If you want extra swatches, you should download the file called "TaurusDesign_Elsa_KidsRoom_BrassSwatch.package". These appear as two objects in the game, and the brass option is the one with the gold-plated taurus logo.

You can find everything by typing Elsa Kids Room.

By the way, if you have canceled your pledge and you can't see the set in the new month, please write to me. Again, thank you so much for everything. I'm going to sleep because I haven't slept in two days.

I hope you like it.

Love you guys 💖💖

Public Release: December 21st, 2022

CHECK IT OUT

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charcoaldustonmyfingers · 4 months

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Kinda oddly embarrassed to send this but oh my god your art is so pleasing to look at for some reason

I think it's just the soft shapes you use and how amazingly 3D everything tends to look?? Like the angles and proportions are just so perfect that I find it easy to imagine most of what you draw as a 3D model or something

And like I don't think I could nail it like you (maybe with time!!) But I am definitely taking inspiration from it because it DOES get me thinking about how you use shapes and angles and wonder if I could practice that because oh my god I wish I could absorb your art

Do you have methods or techniques to make it look so 3D? if you know what I mean? I tend to use grids to try and map out the shapes in a vaguely 3D plane, so I was wondering if you had tips kinda like that to share with the class? or if you're just winging it and it's a lot of practice?

Thank you so much!!! It really means a lot to me when others take inspiration from my art, it reminds me of all the artists I used to look up to and emulate when I was first starting out on MSPaint with a broken trackpad for a pen, you don’t have to be embarrassed! You’ll definitely be able to harness 3D space and create fantastic work, you’re already well on your way! Having passion and a desire to learn will take you far :)

My biggest focus whenever I draw is to make the characters feel real, as though you could reach out and enter the space they’re in to sit next to them on the couch. I’m so glad that I’m able to pull it off! Thanks for the rose, I’ll be sure to cherish it :)

As for my methods and techniques…

Drawing on a 3D grid plane is definitely something I do! Its perfect for comic panels or storyboards, to set the scene and ground characters or props to their environment.

I did a lot of classical study, that is life drawing and still life drawing, but simply using reference for buildings and anatomy also helps a lot and is a lot easier to find. I’d also sketch my hands, plastic animals, and my surroundings, as well as people watch for inspiration for character mannerisms or fashion. It’s useful to know a little bit about the inner workings of anatomy, as there are places were bone makes a person inflexible, while places with more muscle or fat are affected by things like gravity or pressure that change their shape. Drawing a flour sac to act out different emotions is a great way to practice weight and character acting!

Having studied animation, I did a lot of turnarounds to get characters consistent and able to be rotated in 3D space. It can be pretty tedious for some people, but it really does help solidify the characters’ shapes and design, and serves as great reference to look back on if you need it! If you don’t want to do something so stiff as a turnaround, simply drawing expressions and poses from dynamic angles helps too. I’ve found that breaking a character down into basic shapes that are easy to draw in a 3D plane also can help my anatomy and foreshortening be more accurate.

Most importantly, find something that brings you joy to draw! Every “traditional” method of study can be applied to things you like, so don’t feel the need to burn out thinking you can only draw the Mona Lisa or whatever. I’ve done anatomy studies on the Rise turtles to figure out their skeletal structure, and friends of mine have painted some mind blowing concept art inspired by Sonic and D&D!

I hope this helps some? Best of luck, and have fun! :D

Below are a couple of examples of some of my studies:

#ask #art tips #thank you!#it’s also definitely a lot of practice and winging it lol #i still don’t know how thighs and calves work sometimes

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demonsword586 · 9 months

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Horn grinding headcanons! Niflheim

(I'm gonna be honest,this took way too long to write and I feel like I kinda missed the theme of this series with this work...I also feel like my writing was a bit off....I don't know how to feel about this one!)

Gusion

-bro paint those horns,it's impossible to find them

-he's already tired af and done with everything,so when you ask to grind on his horns....he just sighs

-he suddenly grabs you and puts you on his lap.He then puts his hand in your pants and starts using his long fingers on you while grabbing a pen with his free hand and going back to his math problems.

-He then tells you ''If you can survive a few hours of this maybe I'll let you use my horns''

-but a few hours for Gusion means a whole damn afternoon!

-That fucking tease is rubbing,pinching and fingering you with one hand while doing math with the other,looking absolutelly unfazed. Heck he's not even checking on you,even tho you're trembling in his lap after your 8 th orgasm.

-when the sun goes down so does his pen and he finally looks down at you. He gently cradles your body before throwing you on his bed

-you're still recovering from his previous torture,he's already pulling his tie off and tying your hands together with it.He lies his head on your lower stomach and looking up at you seducevlly

-you're in for a long night

Bathin

-Hmm....now he has an intresting horn.On one hand it looks pretty sharp but maybe it's just the angle...I bet the tips are actually smooth....the swirl also reminds me of a knife but I hope it's not like one....so this could either be painful or really enjoyable!

-Let's set the scene! You two are sitting on a comfy blanket on a field,moonlight shining on the two of you. As his head lays on your lap while he rambles on about a book he's reading,you stare at his very asteticlly shaped horn before getting a sudden horny idea.

-While he's talking,you sneak your hand from his hair to his horn,gently caressing it which get's a quick reaction out of him. He slowly stops talking mid sentence,his cheeks slowly turning a light shade of pink while he covers his mouth and looks away from you. ''My little star...you shoudn't touch someone's horn like this..it's very sensitive for us devils..'' he says with a meek voice,stopping a few times to cathch his breath.

-''Oh? You seem to like it tho. Maybe we could even use it for something more...intresting~'' You say in return,your voice lower then normal.

-With you touching one of his erogenous zones and suggesting something so perverted,outside even!.....let's just say he's not one to refuse you.

-The act in it's own is very sweet and fluffy. He does most of the work while also being carefull not to accidentally hurt you. He caresses your legs throughout it all. Just make sure to praise him and tell him how good you feel. He's pretty quiet,only making a few grunts and a slight whimper

-now imagine all of this but he's wearing a sailor moon costume

Andrealphus

-now I like this. Beautiful shape,rigged,long! That's what I want in a devil! Plus there's so much surfice and ways to grind on....

-Okay imagine that he finally comes home after being gone for days. When he returns he's all covered in blood,probably coming back from another massacre. As a good partner,you offer to help him bathe.

-Now you are running your hands through his long hair while he's soaking in the tub.As you are washing his hair,you notice his pretty horns and get an idea.

-You slide your hands down to his shoulders and softly whisper into his ear ''Andrealhus~ Can I borrow your horns please? I promise you'll enjoy it too.~''

-his breath hitches at your hot breath against his ear,he closes his eyes with a frown ''No...you'll get dirty with blood'' Now obviouslly he's just trying to make excuses! Why? Simply...he doesn't wish to hurt you. He knows how strong he is and since he spends most of his time hunting and torturing angels,he's afraid he might lose control and cause you pain.

-But you are not satisfied with that! You then slide one of your hands down his chest,softly caressing it and with the other one,you gently trace his horns ''But Andrealphus! You been gone for a week...you can't expect me to not be needy when you come back. Plus..I missed you so much! Please don't make me wait any longer~'' you whine sensually in his ear.

-Now you are really testing his limits. Screw all his morals! If you want it,you'll get it. Doesn't mean he'll be rough tho.

-As soon as he hears you pleading,he releases a long groan.He grabs your hips and gently places you in the water,right between his legs.

-Andreaplhus then starts gliding his fingers along your body. From your collarbone to your chest,down along your stomach and lower until he reaches your privates.

-When he touches your most sensitive area,which is now even more sensitive than normal cuz of your horniness,you get startled and yelp before jumping back on your feet.

-Your reaction suprises him a bit but then he smiles innocently and pulls you back near him.He grabs your leg and lifts it over his head. With his horn now between your thighs,pressed against you. With a husky voice he says ''Looks like you really did miss me. You're so sensitive today...let me guess,you been touching yourself a lot while I was out.''

-You whimper softly and nod before placing your hands on his other hrn and humping the one between your legs.

-he groans and gently holds on the flesh of your thighs,holding them firmlly enough to stop your movement. He then slowly bobs his head while making sure you stay in place

-Now you have this gigantic killing machine of a devil,melting under you,doing his best to be sweet and gentle with you while also melting uder your touch. His horns already slick with pre-milk.

-After a few minutes of soft passion,his movements start getting faster and sloppier,warning that he's close to climax.Seeing his blushing face,his quick breaths makes you feel your own orgasm approaching. You press yourself even closer to him which makes you cum first. Feeling your juices hit his horns and your knees tremble,he arrives as well,moaning your name with his soft voice

-imagine if he looked at you with that bloodthirsty smile in between the act

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb andrealphus #whb bathin #whb gusion

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devotion-disorder · 8 months

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May I ask what do you use to draw and what pens do you use? Your art is truly beautiful and id like to know how to improve my own art, if you have any tips that is.

first of all THANKMK YOU and I use clip studio paint, these are what i use the most!

i hope this isn't too messy to read LOL

as for art tips, here are some bits and tips just based on my experience (sorry ive got a lot to say)

An artist I really look up to once said becoming good at art is learning to systemize your processes - i didn't really understand it at first but now i think nothing captures it more succinctly than this

Experiment!!! don't worry about "not sticking to your style"; experimenting IS how you will develop a style by finding what you like and don't like

This is gonna sound cliche but don’t be discouraged if you are not satisfied with your art; it means you are improving and you have critical vision just that your art muscles hadnt caught up

Draw as much as you can! I've been doing digital art for ~5-6 years but for almost 4 of those years i was just moping around and drawing about once a month - to this day i still regret wasting so much time 😭😭

Adding on to that, find something that will motivate you to draw as much as you can/ gives you confidence. for me it was actively participating in fandoms and having supportive friends; drawing consistently won't be as useful if you are not actively aiming to become better

that said everyone’s learning process with art is unique and honestly i still have a long long way to go myself LOL hope this helps!!!!good luck n have fun!!!!!!!

#ask #theunderneath #and ig do studies and references etc etc but i think everyone knows tht already #i feel like i had to work through a lot of dumb issues that were just caused by myself #like complete total silliness on my part #for a long time i was really weird and uptight about drawing #and wanting to draw a certain way #but i found that for me personally #i draw best when im going monkey brain unga bunga #and finally learnt to actually have fun with drawing

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its-your-mind · 4 months

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Jon Chester trying to communicate and/or comfort with statements is the cutest and funniest and most in-character shit.

Sam just joined a possibly-evil organization and seems way too interested in gaining knowledge from the stories? Has a history with the Magnus Institute? Well fuck I can’t let him end up back there.

Canaries should stay above ground.

Colin keeps looking too hard into what he shouldn’t, but he doesn’t know enough to stay safe. I have to warm him.

Voyeur needs to be seen to be believed. Scariest movie I have ever seen.

(Brief interlude when Jon finds out that Gerry is alive and has a permanent address which is a big enough ??? and feeling of relief and hope to risk a single email with an address so Sam can go see for him if it really is Gerry, if he’s really alive and if he’s okay (and then he is he’s happy and safe and he paints and goes to art shows and he calls Gertrude GeeGee). Bit of a shame about the name in the email address, though. Who knows, maybe that woman will stop calling him fucking Chester…)

Ahem.

Anyway, Sam won’t let the whole “Magnus Institute” thing go, and now Celia is here? Working here? Recognizing his voice? (Martin had to remind him who Celia was — Jon feels that his lack of remembrance is justified, in this case. Those tunnels blocked off his connection to the Eye! Remember what happened with the camera at Salesa’s? He forgot everything that happened there! Frankly, he’s impressed he even managed to remember meeting Melanie and Georgie down there, let alone the names of their awful annoying cult members. (Jon, be nice. It was the apocalypse). Well, I didn’t see you cozying up with that poet, whatever his name was— (*with sudden disgust* Arun.) *trying to keep a straight face* ah. yes, him.) What is Jon supposed to do about this? Well. Fine. If Sam intends to poke around, Jon can at least make the dangers present there clear.

Statement and Research assessment for artefact CD137. Magnus Institute. … [Transcription ends due to interruption. Statement giver declared dead by paramedics at scene.]

So. They went to the Institute. He knows about all of it, there was a tape recorder there. They were… in the Archives. In the assistants’ area where Tim used to throw the caps of his glitter pens to see how many he could get caught in Sasha’s hair before she noticed. Looking at the decrepit remains of the filing shelves he had been so fucking stressed about organizing. In his office.

Worms tracks on the ground. All paperwork removed or destroyed. And when Sam steps wrong, the tunnels. Oh, Christ. The tunnels. He drops a key down into them as he falls. Alice catches him. They leave. Some…thing takes the key Sam dropped. Unlocks the trapdoor, the one Leitner and Gertrude used to get in and out of the Archives. Here in Manchester, maybe the only way out of the underground passages. The trapdoor opens. Something pulls itself out.

~~~

And now, Alice has been being stalked by drowned corpses. Okay, sure. Yeah, shit uhhh… okay here’s one. Here, look, same kinda thing happened here. That tattoo artist shows up again too! Gotta keep track of reoccurrences. Learn as much as you can — the tip-off about the fire extinguishers saved Jon, Tim, and Martin in the archives. (And Sasha, before that… thing lured her into Artifact Storage.)

It belongs to the deep. I’m going to go get it and I’m going to find it and if they try and stop me I swear the ocean will claim us all. I can taste the salt and spray. It’s waiting in the water.

And now back to Sam. Back to warnings. It’s not just artifacts. The Institute deals with dangerous people, too.

This room, it’s a mess. Printouts, delivery notes, a bunch of rejection letters from some institute he pinned to the wall with a kitchen knife. And it's hot in here, dad. Too hot. Oh god. I can feel it. My throat is swelling. And it itches. I can still hear all the snakes brushing up against the door and... in the walls, I think. Christ, they’re in the walls...

Alice got attacked. He was there, he managed to get a tape on the scene, he heard it all. It was one of the drowned things.

Ink5oul knows something about them. What the hell, right? Michael gave Sasha the tip about the fire extinguishers. Let’s mine another colorful creep for information. Ink5oul dug one of these things up for some reason. Hold on, hold on, he just saw something about them, something about getting some kid to follow them to a graveyard…

We head on through the graves and then they point to one of ‘em and just give me a look. I was no cap shook and then they just said “dig”. I laughed, ‘cause, like, the ‘hell? But they were serious.

And at the same time, Celia keeps waking up on the ground, closer and closer to Oxford each time, like there’s something gently tugging her back towards the world she left. She doesn’t know how to stop it. Jon knows how that feels, the feeling like your own body is just a puppet tangled in invisible strings, at risk of starting a dance you don’t know, to music you can’t hear, at any moment, without any warning.

There isn’t anything that he can really do to help her. But he found it comforting to hear what happened to Gertrude.

I’ve lived Darien’s life for four years now. It wasn’t as hard as you’d think, turns out your world and mine are pretty similar.

CELIA (to computer): Thanks, I guess. Not exactly the same is it?

No. No, it’s not. He knows that there isn’t really any comfort to be found in knowledge when all you learn only points you more and more towards the conclusion that you are alone, and helpless, and powerless against the forces that are dead-set on fucking up your life.

#tmagp #the magnus protocol #tmagp spoilers #chester tmagp #magp 17

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eldritch-spouse · 6 months

Note

Shags get obsessed with a girl that works at an art store where he gets his supplies. She's laid back and chit-chats with him about any projects he's working on.

[Okay but what if you had a really strange thing going on?]

You like this little freak.

Yeah, okay, that's a bit of a mean thing to say. But can you be blamed? There's no word that fits him more aptly than freak. Not even in the physical sense, there's a lot of variety in mushroom monsters, you know some of them can be tall and gangly like Shags. He's just bizarre.

The way he speaks, moves, conducts himself. You swear, not a single mannerism this monster makes feels natural or reflexive. Even the way he seems to intensely wait and make himself an obstacle until you initiate conversation with him... God, even the fucking topics of conversation, it's like he makes an effort to speak in riddles.

In this rather boring dead-end of a job, seeing this weirdo bend and squeeze through the doors like Samara about to crawl out of the TV is the highlight of your shift.

That's why he's your favorite client.

He's been standing still in the same supplies isle for too long, you already know what he wants.

" Having trouble finding something, Mr Shags? "

As if, he probably knows this store better than yourself.

In fact, he outright told you he used to be a client before you started working here.

He murmurs a response too quietly to interpret, forcing you to come closer. And, predictably, as soon as you are within grabbing distance (not hard to achieve when you're a lamppost of a monster featuring branch-like arms), a spider hand slithers onto your shoulder. It's cold, he's always a little cold.

You're urged in front of a shelf, his head looming over yours.

" Ahh, I need your honest opinion on something... If you don't mind? "

This is the paints section, a mural of hues that hurt the eyes.

" Sure. "

" What shade of orange do you think I should get? "

You love these questions. Because never once does he elaborate on what he's creating or why he wants you to choose. It's happened many times before. What size of canvas should I get? What pen should I get? What sketch books should I get?

You like the strange autonomy of getting to pick, offering him the same level of context he does to you.

Absolutely none.

" Alloy. " You point.

Shags reaches towards it with little effort, snagging several little containers with his root-like digits. The hand on your shoulders tightens.

" What a choice. Thank you very much, my dear. "

" No problem. "

It takes a bit of shifting before the hand on your skin is lifted.

You stroll back to the cash register with a small smile and occasionally observe the monster in the same way you'd study an animal at the zoo.

It's strange how little he moves sometimes. Initially, you thought it was just so he wouldn't drip ink everywhere, but it seems to be a part of him now. Blending in with all his other vaguely creepy mannerisms. Mr Shags gets all his items at a snail's torturous pace and finally, finally approaches you.

" How are the latest projects going, Mr Shags? " You start while scanning the paints first.

The shroom actually seems to frown for a second. Fingers busy on the balcony. " Not as smoothly as I wished... "

Tap tap tap.

" My latest muse and I, our chemistry, I'm afraid it has no substance. "

" Oh? " Your eyes deviate to his face for a moment.

" Yes... Something tells me it's time to move on. But I do want to honor our time together with one last, preserving piece. "

Tap tap tap.

" Mhm. Sounds good, I hope the next one works out. " Frankly, you're not sure what he's talking about, but you usually never are to begin with.

" Me too. " Then he smiles again, and you get the distinct feeling his stare has turned into a more scrutinizing one.

Far from the first time, it doesn't scare you like it did initially.

It's pretty funny, actually. You started out thinking this guy was some kind of loser looking to harass you, to intentionally make you uncomfortable. Nowadays he's more of an entertaining almost-friend.

Tap tap tap.

" Will that be all, Mr Shags? "

" Shags. "

He's told you to call him just by his name a couple of times. You always ignore it, but he keeps trying anyway.

There's a silent beat.

During your first years of work, the lack of action would have made you antsy enough to break the silence, which is what you know he wants you to do. But now, you have no trouble staring back placidly until he continues the conversation.

Apparently, the shroom enjoys that continuous challenge, because his grin widens slowly.

" You have a peculiar facial definition. " He eventually rasps.

A nothing statement, not quite a compliment, not quite an insult, definitely said to confuse and prompt a question. One you don't give him the satisfaction of hearing.

" Thanks. " The customer service smile has an edge of playful smarm this time.

Tap tap tap.

" ... I would enjoy sketching you sometime. Your facial expressions are intriguing. "

This is essentially his way of asking you out, you presume.

" You've drawn me before. "

He's even given you the pages, pencil depictions of you caught in a selection of moments. Mostly bored to tears and staring at the little universe between the cracks in aged walls.

Shags tuts. " It's quite different when the muse in question is part of the experience. I much prefer it that way. "

You can't help the hint of a snicker that tugs at the corners of your lips as you bag his items to hurry things along. Not that there's anyone else inside right now.

" Mm. And what if we don't have good chemistry? "

The shroom monster hands you his card, not even caring about hearing the total.

" I think we both know that wouldn't be the case. "

Tap tap tap.

It's only a few moments of intentionally creating suspense until you hand him all his new belongings and card.

" See you soon, Mr Shags. "

His grin only twitches for a delightful glimpse of a second before he carefully takes his possessions and leaves.

Playing with fire is fun.

One day, you'll get burned.

#Shags oc #tce rp ask

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anniebeemine · 2 months

Text

an old flame-s.r.

Warnings: alcohol consumption, pure fluff, allusions to sex

“Dr. Spencer Reid!” You gushed, opening the door to your apartment. “It’s been far too long.”

He pulled you into a hug, using one hand to wrap around your waist and the other to push his bag to his side. “How have you been, Y/N?”

“Good.” You invited him and his friends in. They kicked off their shoes. “Sorry for the mess, I’m in the process of rearranging everything.”

Spencer took note of the carpet rolled up, carefully stepping over it. He settled down at the dining room table. “These are Agents Derek Morgan and Emily Prentiss,” he said, “we were hoping you’d be able to help us with something.”

You sat across from him, Morgan and Prentiss taking two more spaces. “It’s so nice to finally meet you guys. Spencer talks about you guys all the time.”

Prentiss shared a look with Morgan. Not that you’d ever have noticed, seeing as you were too busy taking in Spencer’s new look. You hadn’t seen him in a little over a year. His hair had gotten longer, brushing his shoulders with each step. You’d met a few years ago in a phd program, sharing drafts of your work for peer reviews. Over time, things grew personal but your job kept you in Chicago, his in Washington DC.

“We’re here to ask for your expertise,” he said. “There’s been a list of transients who have gone missing.”

You nodded, your mind already racing as you recalled the weekends spent at various homeless shelters. It had started as a volunteer effort, a way to give back to the community while pursuing your studies and teaching style. Little did you know, those weekends would become the foundation for your understanding of a shadowed corner of society.

“Thank you, Dr. Y/L/N,” Agent Prentiss smiled. “Please let us know if you think of anything else.”

You nodded as you followed the trio out of your apartment. “Of course. I’ll give you guys a call if I hear or see anything.”

Spencer lingered in the doorway for a few minutes, waiting until his friends were out of earshot. “I’ll see you before I leave,” he whispered.

You grinned. “You know where I’ll be.”

“Reid!”

He left with a wave and a tight lipped smile. Upon entering the elevator, he felt his smile fade as he slipped back into his job.

“She seemed real excited to see you,” Emily teased.

Spencer shook his head. “It’s not like that. We used to be classmates.”

Spencer didn’t come by for three days. You were sitting in your apartment reading through a student’s character analysis on some old film that you could only find at a library. He tapped his fingers on the door before entering the apartment. You’d pretty much put everything away since he’d come by. A hint of lavender hung in the air, a recent addition that spoke of your efforts to reclaim this space as your own. The walls, adorned with artwork and photographs that had once celebrated a shared journey, now featured new additions—abstract paintings that reflected a journey of introspection and renewal.

“Hey,” you called, “one second. There’s plenty of stuff in the fridge if you’re hungry.” You continued circling misspellings on the paper.

“Do you need help with those?” Spencer asked, sliding a paper over to him. “What class is this?”

“Personality psych. It’s mostly freshmen looking for credit hours.” You looked up at him. “You're more than welcome to read through them. This is my last one.”

He sat in silence as he read over one of the longer essays. You couldn’t help but be distracted by his hums of thought and looks of confusion. “Do you mind if I make some notes?”

“Go ahead,” you said, handing him a red pen. “I’m sure they’ll appreciate your feedback.”

As he marked up the paper, you felt a mixture of relief and unease. Spencer’s presence was comforting, yet the distance between you these past few days lingered like an unspoken question. After a few minutes, he looked up from the paper he was reading and smiled. "This one's really good. She's clearly being taught by the best."

You blushed, sure he was just being kind. “She's one of my brightest students.”

Spencer's smile grew warmer, and he shook his head slightly. "No, I mean it. You're an excellent teacher. It shows in their work."

The simplicity of his words felt like a lifeline. For a moment, the silence between you was filled with unspoken understanding.

“How have you been?” you asked, trying to bridge the gap.

“Busy,” he replied without looking up. “Cases have been non-stop.”

“I figured,” you said softly. “I missed you.”

He paused, pen hovering over the paper, before he glanced at you. “I missed you too.”

Spencer practically carried through your degrees. He’d read over your essays, umming and ahh-ing through your words. His notes were always constructive, never critical. You appreciated that someone could be so kind when reviewing your work. Despite being a literal genius, he never made you feel bad for not knowing things. The study group you were in dwindled, leaving just the two of you to have late nights together in the library.

He’d stopped by the night before the commencement ceremony. You had a little apartment in a neighborhood a few train stops away from school, your first ever home away from your parents. Spencer came by, takeout in one hand and a book in the other. You let him in quickly, offering him a drink as he unpacked the food and rambled about the man in the small restaurant.

“Would you like some?” You asked, holding a bottle of wine up.

He looked nervous. “I’ve never had wine,” he admitted.

You poured a little bit into a second glass. “Just for you to try, but you don’t have to.”

After dinner, you rummaged through your small collection of board games, looking for something to keep the evening going. You pulled out a few options and spread them out on the coffee table.

“How about a game?” you suggested. “We have the Game of Life, Candyland, and some truth or dare cards.”

Spencer glanced at the options, his eyes lingering on each one before finally settling on Candyland. “I haven’t played this since I was a kid,” he said with a small, nostalgic smile.

“Candyland it is, then,” you declared, setting up the game.

As you arranged the colorful pieces and shuffled the cards, Spencer finally took a tentative sip of the wine. He grimaced at the taste, making you laugh lightly.

“Not a fan?” you teased.

“It’s... different,” he said, his face still contorted in mild discomfort. “I suppose it’s an acquired taste.”

You chuckled, appreciating the honesty. “It’ll grow on you.”

The game began, and the two of you fell into an easy rhythm, moving pieces along the candy-colored path and drawing cards. Spencer’s competitive side emerged, though it was tempered by his genuine enjoyment of the game. His laughter was contagious, filling your small apartment with a joy that had been missing for a while. He’d gone to Vegas for two weeks and you missed him dearly. Halfway through the game, Spencer took another sip of his wine, his grimace less pronounced this time. “It’s not so bad after all,” he admitted.

“See? I told you it would grow on you,” you said, feeling a sense of accomplishment.

"Did you know that wine production dates back thousands of years?" Spencer mused, his eyes lighting up with the familiar enthusiasm of a lecture. "The earliest evidence of wine-making comes from ancient Georgia, not the state, but the country. It's fascinating how..."

You listened intently, amused by his ability to effortlessly segue into detailed historical narratives. It was one of the many reasons why conversations with Spencer were always enlightening and never dull. As he continued to share tidbits about wine culture and its evolution through the ages, you found yourself appreciating not just his intellect, but the genuine passion he had for sharing knowledge. Meanwhile, you shuffled through the truth or dare cards, knowing that standard card games were indeed too straightforward for someone like Spencer.

“Have you ever done anything illegal,” you read. You flipped the card onto the table. “Bought this game. Next.”

Spencer furrowed his brows. “How did you illegally buy this game?”

You looked at the stack of safe cards in your hand. “It had an over 18 rating. I wanted to have something fun for a girls night so I used a fake ID.”

Spencer laughed. “I also had a fake ID.”

You cocked your head, unsure of how to question it. But, some things are better left a mystery. “Pick.”

He tentatively slid one off the top. “Dare. Take a lap around the block.” You took one look at the snowy Chicago skyline. He picked the next card. “Finish your drink.”

The two of you shrugged, knocking back the rest of the wine in your glasses. You handed him the bottle, waiting for him to finish his pour before he put it back on the table. You refilled your glass, going for the next card. You played in an unconventional way, both attempting dares to do handstands and see who could win in arm wrestling. You both spilled your secrets during truth cards, sharing both sad and happy anecdotes. The wine was quickly depleting, fueling the playful energy in the room. This was the longest you’d talked to Spencer without it turning into an academic discussion. You flipped a card over, instantly regretting it.

Tell your first sex story

The mood shifted. The question was too personal, too intimate to answer in the midst of this lighthearted game. You exchanged a glance with him.

As Spencer opened his mouth, you noticed a flicker of hesitation cross his features. His expression held a mixture of thoughts—perhaps a desire to say something more, to bridge the gap that had formed between you, but also a cautious restraint, respecting the unspoken boundaries you had acknowledged.

For a moment, the room felt charged with unspoken words, the weight of their unspoken feelings and shared history hanging between you like a delicate thread. You could almost sense his struggle, the conflict playing out in the furrow of his brow and the slight tightening of his jaw. Spencer's lips parted, as if to speak, but then he closed them again, a small, rueful smile playing on his lips. He nodded slightly, his eyes conveying a silent acknowledgment of the complexities between you.

"I think this one belongs in the pile of racy cards," you said softly, setting the card aside with a small, apologetic smile.

Spencer nodded in agreement, relief evident in his eyes. "Agreed," he replied, his voice gentle. "Some questions are meant to remain private."

You gazed at him, enamored by the way he kept his hair tucked behind his ears. He pulled another card.

Kiss the person to your left

A blush forms across his cheeks. For a moment, neither of you moved. The silence between you was palpable, filled with unspoken thoughts and uncharted territory. Spencer's gaze met yours, his eyes searching for any sign of discomfort or reluctance.

"I... uh..." Spencer stammered, his voice betraying a mix of embarrassment and intrigue. He glanced down at the card, then back at you, his expression unreadable yet tinged with something deeper.

You hesitated, your heart racing as you considered the implications of the dare. Part of you wanted to laugh it off, to return to the light-hearted banter that had defined the evening. But another part, emboldened by the wine and the lingering connection between you, wondered what might happen if you crossed that line. Before you could make a decision, Spencer took a deep breath, his resolve steadying. With a tentative smile, he leaned forward, closing the distance between you. His lips brushed softly against yours, a gentle, fleeting touch that sent a shiver down your spine.

The kiss lasted only a moment, yet it felt timeless, charged with unspoken emotions and unexplored desires. Spencer pulled back slightly, his cheeks still flushed but his eyes now filled with a mix of vulnerability and curiosity.

"I... I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I... I shouldn't have..."

But before he could finish his apology, you reached out, gently placing a hand on his cheek. "No," you said softly, your voice steady yet filled with a warmth that matched the wine in your veins. "It's okay."

Spencer's gaze searched yours, seeking reassurance and understanding. In that moment, you realized that the kiss had opened a door between you, one that neither of you were quite ready to close. You moved closer. His kisses were soft and hesitant at first, a gentle exploration that soon grew bolder. He tasted faintly of the wine you had been drinking, sweet and tangy. His hands were trembling as they traced the lines of your face, then moved down to your neck, your shoulders. The nervous energy that usually surrounded him seemed to focus entirely on you, each touch sending a shiver down your spine.

That night was a beautiful mix of awkwardness and passion, a shared discovery that deepened your connection. You remembered the way his breath hitched as you explored each other’s bodies, the way his fingers tangled in your hair, the intensity in his eyes as he looked at you like you were the most important person in the world. It was a night of firsts, one you both held onto in the quiet spaces of your minds.

But soon after, Spencer was picked for the BAU. It was a dream opportunity for him, and you were genuinely happy for his success. Yet, as he immersed himself in his new role, the demands of the job took him further away. The phone calls and texts became sporadic, then faded altogether. Your friendship, once so vibrant and full of promise, began to wane under the weight of his responsibilities and the distance between you.

You finished with the final essay, putting it to the side and putting your focus back on Spencer. “How did the rest of the case go?” He’d gotten better at communicating when he was far, but you still liked to have him close.

“We caught him. He was targeting people who were trying to make cash. He offered work for money and then would take them.” His voice came out gravelly and tired. He studied your apartment and you watched as he focused on the mantle for a minute.

“How’s Shawn?” He asked.

You fiddled with your bare finger. “We’ve separated. It’s been six months.”

"I'm sorry to hear that," Spencer said softly, his gaze sympathetic as he sat across from you in your apartment. His eyes flickered with concern, his mind processing the information you had just shared.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in a gesture of weariness. "Relationships are... complicated," he murmured, his voice tinged with a hint of regret. "I wish I could have been there for you more."

You looked at him, touched by his sincerity. "It's not your fault, Spencer," you reassured him. "You've had your own battles to fight, cases to solve. We both did."

Spencer nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. "Still," he began, his voice quiet yet earnest, "I can't help but feel like I should have been there for you more, especially during... everything."

You smiled sadly, memories of the past few years flooding your mind. "Shawn and I... we drifted apart," you admitted, your voice tinged with a mix of resignation and acceptance.

You spent years far too hung up on Spencer. That night you shared was something you’d never experienced before in more ways than one. You were like an addict chasing a high, but he was in a different time zone. You knew your marriage was over before it started. Shawn didn’t like that every few weeks, you'd spend an entire afternoon talking to Spencer, practically ignoring everything happening around you. Instead, you told Spencer about your job and how you’ve become a new person since divorcing.

Spencer listened, his expression unreadable as he absorbed your words. Before he could respond, you broke the momentary silence, redirecting the conversation. "How are you, Spencer?" you asked, your voice filled with genuine concern.

He hesitated for a moment, then gave a small smile. "I'm fine," he replied automatically, his tone hinting at a deeper complexity. He started rambling about literature he’d read recently. You listened to him, feeling his excitement of having someone who could listen to him for so long. Truthfully, you could do this all day. You held his hand, instantly silencing him. “Sor-”

“How are you, Spencer? Like… inside.”

Spencer met your gaze, his expression vulnerable yet sincere. "I feel... a lot better now that we're close again," he confessed quietly. "I... I've thought about you for years, you know”

You blinked. “Really?”

He nodded, taking his hand back. Spencer would look anywhere but you. He settled on a spot in the carpet before taking a deep breath. “I mentioned you to our technical analyst.”

“Penelope, right?”

“Yeah.” He nervously wiped his hands on his pants. “I’d been through a lot at the time. The whole thing with my dad and…”

You’d been away in your own world at the time, missing two phone calls because of your honeymoon. Each time, you had promised yourself to return the calls later, unaware of the weight they might carry. Meanwhile, Spencer had been grappling with his own tumultuous emotions, navigating the aftermath of a difficult period involving his father and the complexities of his own feelings for you.

“I was going to send a letter with everything but you moved. I asked her to find your new address and she told me you’d bought this place with Shawn.”

You swallowed thickly. “I’m so sorry,” you mumbled. “I should have told you and-”

“I respected that, Y/N. We stayed friends.” He finally looked you in the eyes. “I have been in love with you since long before that truth or dare.”

Spencer's words hung in the air, heavy with emotion and vulnerability. You stared at him, your heart racing as memories flooded back—memories of late nights debating theories, of shared laughter over obscure references, of stolen glances that spoke volumes.

"I... I didn't know," you confessed softly, feeling a mix of disbelief and overwhelming affection. "I never imagined..."

He nodded, his gaze steady on yours now. "I never knew how to say it. I was always afraid... afraid of losing what we had if I admitted how much you meant to me. I didn't mean to spring this on you like this. It's just... I've been carrying this for so long, afraid that if I didn't say it now, I might never find the courage to say it at all."

You gently placed your hand on his, feeling the tremor beneath his touch. "Spencer, you don't need to apologize," you assured him softly. "I'm just... I'm glad you told me. I've wondered about us, too."

His eyes searched yours, a mix of relief and uncertainty flickering in their depths. "You have?"

"Yes," you admitted, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you. "I've thought about what could have been, what might still be... if we're both willing."

He exhaled slowly, his fingers tightening around yours. "I've always cared about you, Y/N.”

"Thank you for being brave enough to say it," you replied, leaning in to press a gentle kiss against his cheek. "I'm here, Spencer. Whenever you're ready."

He nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips as he intertwined his fingers with yours. "I think... I'm ready now."

#fanfic #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reidx reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic

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projectbluearcadia · 2 months

Text

[P1] Heart of Blue

Lucifer x GN!MC

[ Part 1 ] [ Part 2 ]

[ Scenario: After a sweet and short date, Lucifer gets a l'il greedy and wants to spend some more time with you. With cuddles straight into caring sex, Lucifer wants to savor every moment.

Part 1 is fluff; Part 2 is fluffy smut. ]

I am publishing before my self-imposed due date for once, but it comes at the price of two parts. Here's to all the vanilla Luci-lovers <3.

Wordcount - 1178

“I was just thinking about getting...” What—Where the hell did he go?! you think as you look for Lucifer through mounds of antiques. Bizarre china, paintings, books, borderline ancient tools, rusty plant holders, old clothes, and no sign of your (stupid) boyfriend. He was right next to me! you think, annoyed as you wander back through the way you came.

“Look at this,” you hear him say, before you feel his hand around yours—half-shocking you to death—before he drags you in the direction he's been looking. A wall full of pans. What in the ninth hell is he… “It’s Dead Steel,” he explained, hefting one such pan off the wall before he placed it into your hands and nearly made you drop to the floor in the process. He laughed softly as you struggled to hold it, shaking as you carefully set it down onto a dangerously creaking floorboard.

“And… And why is that so fascinating?” you ask, trying to conceal your exasperation with him, and he turned to look at you, bemused.

“It’s Dead. Steel,” he said, again, before he effortlessly swung the pan up by the handle and inspected the engraving. “The Devildom long fazed out of using it because the material is highly resistant to being enchanted. It’s heavy, it’s damn near indestructible, great for hitting people…” He flipped the pan over, fascinated as his burgundy eyes roved over it. “I haven’t seen one of these in thousands of years.” His eyes widened at the dark red, nearly invisible squiggle on the bottom. “Wait, this is my pan. I was wondering where that went.”

“...you really are an old man,” you can’t help but snicker. To think he was so old that his possessions were ending up in antique shops that sold only items that were at least 500 years old.

“Oh, shut up, you,” he grunted. “You aren’t even the sperm cell that squirted from your father’s penis.” You find yourself furtively looking around while you cringe, hoping to low hell that no one heard that.

“Lucifer!” you scold, and he chuckled.

“Aw, does this old man embarrass you?”

“Yes, but more importantly, please do not talk about my father’s genitals.” Some things are better left to the imagination, although Lucifer hasn’t quite seemed to grasp that concept yet.

“You started it,” he hums, apparently pleased with your reaction nevertheless as he takes the 25 kilo pan in one hand. Child. He is actually a child, you complain in your head as he swings the handle on one finger. I guess he’s buying it. And how is he doing that? “MC, if you don’t pick something, I will buy something for bed,” he teases, picking up a cat o’ nine tails and shaking it tauntingly at you.

“Now that you mention it, I was very interested in something before you ran off, thank you,” you answer shortly before you take him by the hand instead, dragging him back to where you had been roaming before he went and disappeared, shoving him in front of a small, glass case. Lucifer’s eyes widen, and his leather-gloved hands rest lightly on the case.

“You really will melt my heart one of these days, MC,” he says solemnly, confusing you as you look back at the case. It’s just a pair of fountain-tipped pens that were completely unremarkable aside from what appeared to be two different snakes wrapped around them. One was the color of the ocean, and the other was the color of the sky. It wasn’t one ocean or one sky, because the snakes’ scales had been painted one by one into a satisfying gradient.

“Is it because they’re cheap?” you guess, and Lucifer shakes his head as he takes the glass case with a faint yet bittersweet smile. Reminiscing, but it’s not the same. Did I find a precious memory by accident?

“No, not at all,” he replies as he takes the case with him, still faintly smiling as he brings both items to the register, paying for them both (He got a discount just because of who he was. Bastard).

“So are you going to tell me?” you prod as he hands the case to you, turning the pan in his hand as he walks in the direction of home with you. “Did you own these too?” He inclines his head. So he just bought back two old possessions. I’m almost surprised he didn’t demand that he receive them for free.

“I gave them to Lilith as a gift,” he replies wistfully. O-Oh. Wow. Out of all the pens in the world I could pick… “I never really liked the man whom she would eventually call her husband, but I wasn’t stubborn enough that I couldn’t see how happy he made her. I gave them to her so that they could write to each other discreetly.” His tenderness, his kindness and his rich smile in that moment make you remember exactly why you fell in love with this prideful little bugger.

“So… it’s a fond memory,” you clarify, and Lucifer softly chuckles behind his fist, his eyebrows scrunching together as he walks next to you, his step slow as if he never wanted to stop walking with you.

“Fond, stupid, sweet… she actually argued with me about it because she said I’d be punished too if she was caught using them. I ended up yelling at her.” Lucifer smiles a little bitterly. “I would have rathered that God held me responsible as her older brother…?” Lucifer glances at you in confusion as you shake your arm in pain. “MC, did you just hit me?”

“Really need to make it a habit to use magic to protect myself when I do that,” you grumble to yourself, rubbing your elbow, which had made contact with his oblique. Like elbowing a wall, Jesus... “Yes, I hit you. You’re doing the thing again. What’d we talk about?”

“‘You are not at fault for your sister’s death, you do not deserve to be punished for your sister’s death, and no one blames you for your sister’s death. God can eat shit and go fuck himself,’” Lucifer parroted, word-for-word.

I’m happy you remember, but you really should be saying that from a first-person perspective... “I’m sorry. I know she’d hit me herself just the same. It’s just… difficult sometimes.” Lucifer shifted the pan to his other hand and offered his now-free one to you. You squeeze the glass case in your left before you lay your right in his, smiling with contentment as he looks at you fondly. “All the more reason to prize the things I have.” He gave you a surprise kiss on your temple as he leaned closer to you. “I have a meeting with Diavolo in half an hour, but…”

“But?” you prompt, and he rests his head against yours.

“If… you’re not busy, then we’re cuddling up somewhere.”

“Big softie,” you accuse lightly before you kiss his cheek. ‘If you’re not busy’; what a load of nonsense, you think with a smile. He already knows I don’t have anything to do today. I guess Diavolo’s just going to have to wait…

#and Diavolo doesn't care #because he's a good friend #obey me lucifer #obey me shall we date #fanfiction #obey me!#shameless self indulgence #obey me #lucifer brainrot #lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer fluff #obey me lucifer x reader #cuddle monster #soft luci #nostalgia

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nana-b0b · 6 months

Text

Horse racing

The name Ran means "orchid" (蘭) and is the name of this short graphic novel.

Ran's name is inspired more exactly by the black orchids, which are the most exotic within their kind, moreover, there is some symbolism with The Garden of Earthly Delights (Bosch's painting) and all its hidden meanings, in part and summarized: the most beautiful orchids in the hands of man.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>●

|| We have more around here and we have her name! "She" is Aurora Imagawa, a special grade sorceress with a very very scandalous past but who is currently in Sukuna's hands... we'll find out why.

So who is Guido? An ancestor of Aurora's who had her same curse, who we know here as "the Meiji era girl" but now has a temporary name and will have a story to tell us about her... and her favorite son, Choso.

The story of Guido and Aurora can be interspersed, sometimes there will be drawings of Aurora, and others of Guido, I'm not doing things in chronological order because I would have to explain a lot of things and sometimes I like to keep the mystery.

Some notes:

♡Guido was born with a very out of the ordinary beauty, she has a sleepy and tired look most of the time but is a very astute young lady.

♡Her mother was very annoyed with her horse because it was not straight like her sisters and not black like hers, she has a very dark auburn warmth in her hair, also, her eyebrows are a bit thick breaking with the beauty standards of the time.

♡Her eyes are light blue, her mother says she is "too much water" bad omen, she should have been born with brown eyes like her sisters, rooted to the earth like the cherry tree.

♡Aurora has one of Guido's moles, the one next to her lip.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>●

Nana's notes:

Thanks to everyone who is supporting these drawings, I really appreciate it very much and I hope to continue working with this story because I would like to show you more things and make it your afternoon novella! something to read for a while and think during the day.

I saw a lot of people excited to write inspired by this story and I just want to say one thing: take your pen and do it!

And remember: if you publish it don't hesitate to tag me so I can see it, I would love to be able to read it and even be able to continue to be inspired for storytelling.

I'm very excited to inspire more artists with my graphic pieces, in a way it's my goal to take care of the details, the scenes, the gestures of each drawing, because I want you to feel it as much as I do (this is also closely related to why Aurora's face is so little seen or always covered, keeping her face gives that air of mystery and gives way to the possibility of imagining that she could be your OC or... you).

#fanart #sketch #Ransketch #jujutsu kaisen #jjk oc #art #oc art #jujutsu fanart #choso jujutsu kaisen #choso jjk #jjk #choso kamo #noritoshi kamo #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna

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illubean · 8 months

Note

I saw ur celebrity Iso x bakery girl post and im in LOVE

May I req an art student!Iso x reader where Iso is roommates with another guy (either Phoenix, Gekko, or Yoru) and that dude has friends over with reader being one of them and tries to go find the bathroom but instead stumbles upon Iso's art room where he's painting away and doesnt notice reader? :3

And maybe reader leaves their number without him noticing until the guests all leave🤭💜

If You Need a Muse

Characters: Li Zhao "Iso" Yu Type: Fluff, Oneshot, Gn!reader

this request has sparked something within me... how do we feel about CeramicArtist!Iso smirk emoji also I changed the req just a tad bit >.<

Warnings: none

It wasn't often that your dear friend Jamie invited you over to his home. Your little group often spent time at Sunwoo's (who prefers to be called Jett) house or showed up at Ryo's uninvited. He was always too lazy to host or feared disturbing his roommate, but today he wanted for you all to play a console game he just bought.

You sat on the floor in front of Jett, who was on the couch battling against Ryo. You watched the game on the screen as you awaited your turn, as Jamie came from the kitchen with more snacks. Jett was currently losing, yelling and leaning into Ryo in hopes of throwing his game. You laughed before looking at your brown haired friend who sat on the floor next to you.

"We're not bothering your roommate are we?"

"Nah, I don't think he's home right now."

After about another hour of playing the game and eating junk food, you needed to use the bathroom. Setting your controller down you looked over to Jamie, asking for directions to the bathroom.

"It's down the hall, first door to the right."

You nodded, getting up and going on your way to find the toilet. You stopped in front of a closed door, pushing it open to reveal NOT a bathroom. You look around, taking in the room. It was well lit, the walls decorated with paintings in various sizes. In the center of the room was an easel, and a man standing in front of it who's gaze seemed to have shifted from the piece in front of him to you. He was wearing comfortable clothes protected by an apron, a paintbrush in one hand and palette in the other.

"Oh uh- Sorry. You must be Jamie's roommate, I was just looking for the bathroom."

He offers you a small smile before returning to his work.

"No worries, it's one door over."

From where you stood you couldn't really tell what he had been painting, but what you could tell was that the man himself was a piece of art. He had beautiful purple eyes and sharp features that you could almost believe he were a marble statue come to life. After taking him and the room in for a little longer you spoke up once again.

"Your art is very beautiful."

He looks up and smiles at you again before responding.

"Thanks. I'm working on pieces for my portfolio, though I don't think anything I paint could compare to your beauty."

You were left speechless as you felt the tip of your ears burn.

"O-oh. Thank you. I'll be- uh- going now..." You stuttered out, before turning and going back to your original task.

Find and use the bathroom.

After doing your business, you returned back downstairs to find that your friends switched to watching a movie.

"Geez, you took forever in there!" Jett complains.

"Did you take a shit or something?" Ryo asks, scrunching his face up at you.

The other two laugh at his statement before you give a response.

"I don't see how any of that is your business," you huffed. Instead of rejoining your companions in the living room, you make your way into the kitchen. There was a magnetic basket stuck to the side of the fridge with pens, some memo pads and sticky notes in them. You grabbed one of the sticky notes and a pen and begin to write your note. You look around for a place to set it as your eyes land on a coffee machine.

Bingo

The machine must belong to your friend's mysterious and attractive roommate, as you knew your friend didn't really enjoy coffee all that much.

You stuck the note on the bottom of a mug sitting underneath the machine before setting it back in place and finally returning to the living room.

{timeskip}

The next morning, Li made his way towards the kitchen for his daily cup of coffee. He would be headed off to class soon and needed a bit of caffeine to start the day. Jamie had already been up, also about to leave for class. After brewing his coffee and picking up his mug, ne noticed a yellow corner of a sticky note peeking out from the bottom.

Peeling the note off, confused, he brought it up to eye level to read.

"If you ever need a muse (or wanna go out :D) call me~ XXX-XXX-XXXX (Jamie's Bathroom Friend)"

A light blush dusted his face at the note. This had to have been left by his roommates attractive friend yesterday. He was so distracted buy the number written in front of him that he didn't notice Jamie peeking over his shoulder.

"That's why they took so long in the bathroom! Hah, looks like one of my best mates likes you."

The man gave his flat mate a firm pat on the back before going about his day. The light blush on Li's face darkened in embarassment at the realization Jamie had seen what was written. Drinking his coffee, he sat down and put the note in his pocket.

He would have to put the number in his phone later.

#iso x you #valorant iso #iso valorant #iso x reader #valorant #valorant x you #valorant x reader #valorant hcs #valorant headcanons #valorant oneshot #valorant fanfiction #valorant fanfic

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burninlovebutler · 2 years

Text

Candy Hearts ♡

pairing: sub!austin x fem-dom!reader | word count: 7.6k-ish

warnings: FLUFF, smut, stuttering, subby shy giggly artist!austin, handjob, praise kink, oral (f receiving), squirting, humiliation kink, straight sadism lol, name calling, forced o, multiple o’s, overstimulation, little-esque?, 18+ MDNI

summary: you decide to give your shy, artsy chemistry partner a chance when he asks you to be his valentine. after his creative date surprised you, you invite him over for a movie and… snacks.

see my masterlist for all other fics ♡

disclaimer: for vday i wanted to challenge myself because as most of you know, fluff is not my forte lol so not only was writing with NO angst a challenge but also one shots aren’t my favorite to write & so i feel as though it is not my best work 😅 pls keep that in mind & don’t judge too harshly 😅👉🏻👈🏻 hope you enjoy anyway! (also late, kinda rushed, didn't use my thesaurus for this one lol sorry 😅)

vibes: candy hearts playlist ♡

⋆⁺₊⋆ i’d be your stars,

and you’d be my little moon ☾

-little moon - mackenzie bourg

You tapped a gel pen against the tall wooden desk you were sat at, waiting for class to start. Your cheek rested in your palm propped up by your elbow and your eyes threatened to doze off at the monotony of the 7 pm Thursday chemistry class.

The small, shy boy who had been assigned as your partner for semester was the only highlight of the horrendous class. He was quite entertaining, both because of how endearing his timid fumbling was and how easily you could fluster him. You knew he had a thing for you, but you never pursued anything, even though he was exactly your type. You simply didn’t think he could handle you, he seemed too inexperienced.

The slender boy finally rushed in just minutes before class was supposed to start. His paint-covered baby yellow Kanken backpack was busting with supplies, art brushes, sketchbooks, colored pencils in metal containers, even a small canvas or two. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell he was an art major – hell just looking at him told you he was an art major. The curly haired blonde wore a striped long sleeved shirt with the cuffs covering his hands.

“Hi y/n.” He said shyly, plopping his backpack on the ground.

“Hey Austin.” You smiled a little at the scene in front of you, you couldn’t help but find him absolutely adorable.

“So- uh-“ His voice carrying a nervous tremble and fidgeted slightly with his thumbs, “Um, I was wondering if I could show you something after class?”

You propped up a brow, “Oh? What is it that you have to show me?”

“Well- uh, I- um,” He fumbled, “I kinda need an opinion on something.” He ended quickly.

You eyed him but before you were able to question him further your professor began and he was a hardass about anyone interrupting class, he’d even lock the door if you were late.

Class ended around 9 pm and the impromptu plans with Austin had nearly escaped your mind, until his anxious voice informed you, “It’s uh, in the art lab, if you wanna follow me?”

“Sure.” You nodded lightly, curious as to what he’d possibly want your opinion on. You were a communications major and hadn’t ever taken an art class. You barely even knew where the art wing was.

He led you through hallways and courtyards, barely saying a word to you, just very determined to reach his destination. You followed him cautiously observing him, the way his fingers would play with the tail of the backpack strap, a hand in his pocket then out, tugging at the hem of his shirt. Whatever he was showing you was definitely making him nervous.

He walked you into an empty room, littered with half-finished canvases, drying clay pots, mannequins, prop fruits and the air was heavy with paint fumes.

“Wow, it’s really cool in here.” You commented gazing over the mesmerizing room.

He didn’t reply and just kept walking towards the back of the room where it seemed to be the pottery section. When he reached the second shelf of finished pottery projects, he stood in front of it. “So- um- I’m sorry in advance if this is weird.”

Your brows curved at his words, silently praying it wasn’t going to be something gross. He swiveled around, picked something up, held it for a second before turning around. Rosy flush filled his cheeks as he handed you a short but wide heart-shaped cylindrical container. It was a light lavender color, resembling the color of a candy heart.

You carefully took the cup-like sculpture, giving him a questioning look.

“I uh- um, look inside.” He said shyly, bringing sweater-covered hand to his mouth chewing on his thumbnail.

You peered inside the cup and in candy heart-font said, ‘Be mine?’

“I was w-wondering if you’d maybe, want to be, ya know, my v-valentine?” He stuttered out, “I know it’s kinda lame and you probably hate valentine’s day-“

“Yes.” You said simply with a gentle smile.

“It’s okay I underst- wait, yes?”

You chuckled, “Yeah, this is the cutest thing anyone’s ever given me.”

“Oh,” He blushed and went to bring his covered hand to block his face but stopped himself, bringing it down to fidget, “Um, it’s a pen holder.” He clarified.

“A pen holder?” You questioned with a little laugh.

“Yeah, well I noticed you use a lot of colored pens in class so… I thought you might need something to keep them on your desk.” He bit down on his lip to hide a smile.

A wide grin tugged at your lips, maybe this one had potential afterall. “Well, that’s quite thoughtful of you Austin.” You continued inspecting the inside of the cup, noticing some extra sketches inside, “What are those?” You tilted the pot to him, the sight intensifying the redness in his cheeks.

“O-Oh, um, they’re beakers…because you know we’re in chemistry class…” He trailed off, “I know it’s really lame I’m sorry I just thought-“

You giggled and placed a finger to his lips, “Sh, I think it’s cute.”

“You do?” He looked at you with the bluest, cutest puppy dog eyes you’d ever seen.

“Yeah,” Your lips curling into a beam. “Well, what are we doing for the date then Valentine?” Emphasizing the name thinking he’d probably like the reassurance.

“O-Oh well- I,” He fumbled to swing his full backpack off his one shoulder, unzipping the pouch and digging around until he found what he searched for. He held out two voucher type papers, “I thought maybe we could go to this pottery class? It’s like a w-wine and pottery type thing… I don’t k-know if you even drink b-but yeah, in case you did, I don’t know I thought you m-might like it.” His nerves clear in his increased stutter. The stuttering wasn’t new, he had one even when he was calm. But it got worse when he was nervous, like before a quiz or an experiment, and especially during presentations. You often had to take over explaining the slides for him since it got so bad. You didn’t mind though, science wasn’t his strong suit. Makes sense for a right-brain artsy individual.

“Sure, it sounds like fun.” You held the glazed clay close to your chest, knowing you it was in danger of getting dropped and you didn’t wanna risk breaking it. “I look forward to it.” You leaned over and pressed a tiny kiss to his cheek.

He bit down on his lip and nodded, “Cool.”

Valentine’s Day came and you arrived to the pottery place that was hidden away in a quaint part of town you’d never been before. You waited outside, leaning against the wall. There was a bit of a buzz in your tummy, maybe you were more excited for this date than you thought. There was a gift hidden behind you to surprise him with.

Finally, you noticed the small boy making his way to you – curled up cuffed jeans, black converse, and a slightly nicer blue sweater with a white collar peeking out beneath it. “Hi y/n.” He smiled shyly, even shier than normal. You questioned whether he’d even been on a date before. He pulled his arms from behind his back, holding out a single rose and a large box of luxurious looking chocolates. “I-I didn’t know what kinda chocolates you liked s-so I got you a variety pack.”

The sight of him was so endearing, his long shaggy blonde hair, his nervously restrained smile and pink freckly cheeks, it sent a flutter in your chest. “That’s very sweet of you Austin.” A toothy grin laid claim across your face, “I got you something too.” Bringing your arm out from behind your back, offering a teddy bear wearing a sweater that resembled many that he wore.

His face lit up, “O-Oh my goodness!” He beamed. You took the presents he got you so that he could take the bear he so evidently wanted to scoop up. He immediately stole the bear and squeezed it, “Thank you so much! He’s so cute, I love him.”

You chuckled, “I’m glad you like him. I wasn’t sure you would.”

“Oh oh, I do I do I do!”

Once inside the glaring white art studio, you both were separated. At first this seemed odd as it was valentine’s day, you figured you’d be working together. But the instructor explained this was to give you the opportunity to make something unique for each other. So, you threw on the provided smock and were placed across the room from each other.

As you looked around the room you noticed the room was filled with couples significantly older than you both. People your age were probably out clubbing trying to get laid or having “anti-valentine’s day” parties. But when you searched across all the middle-aged pairs, you spotted your date – your 21 year old shy chemistry partner – laughing it up with the grandma-esque art instructor.

A smile tugged at your lips watching the interaction, the normally fairly quiet boy was the most comfortable and animated that you’d ever seen him. You were too far to hear what they were talking about but just from his focused mannerisms and confident demeanor, he was definitely consulting with the sweet old lady about whatever project he was planning. The familiarity between them made it clear that he was a regular there. She was so gentle with him, just like a grandma.

When he caught you watching him, you expected him to blush or hide but instead gave you a raised brow, ‘I caught ya’ look. You didn’t know why but you immediately felt a fuzzy feeling in your tummy mimicking embarrassment and pretended you weren’t actually looking at him. There was a slight uptick in your heartbeat when you realized he was walking towards you and you hadn’t even touched the lump of clay in front of you.

“How ya doin’?” He asked and you swore you could almost hear a tease in his tone. He caught you- clay handed.

You let out a nervous chuckle, “I uh- I don’t really know where to get started.”

“Well, I could help.” He beamed, his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his arms covered in clay marks.

“Sure.” You nodded with a tightlipped smile. “I just, I can’t do art like- at all.”

He waved away the notion and rounded your seat, “Everyone’s an artist.” He stated before his hands finding your own and guiding them to the mass of clay. His touch sparked an electricity on your skin and made you hyperaware of every place your bodies intersected. His arms molded around you from behind placing them on the medium, “Okay so, step on the pedal a little.” He instructed and the confidence in his voice erupted goosebumps across your body.

The tabletop began to rotate when you barely tapped on the pedal, his hands gently pressing yours into the wet clay. “I um, I think I wanna make something small.” You said just low enough for him to hear.

“Okay sure.” He moved his thumbs into yours, shaving the edges off the clay to size it down. “You just gotta remember to keep it wet.” You didn’t even think he caught on, but blood was rushing to your cheeks.

He stepped away from you, wiping the gray excess off on his smock, “You think you got it?”

“Oh- Oh yeah, I got it. Thank you.” You gave him a little smile and he replied with a wide one before he shuffled away back to his project.

You followed his instructions and kept withering the lump down until it was a tiny mound. You scraped it off the plate shaped it into a small heart with a tiny loop at the top. The pad of your thumb curved a divot into the heart and painted it a dark brown. The clay was fast air drying so that you’d be able to take your creations home the same day.

For the finishing touch, you dug into your pocket to find a crystal you snuck in and carefully pressed it into the groove. Before the date you had visited your favorite crystal shop searching for a gem that reminded you of him. In the search you stumbled across a stone called Larimar, that did just that. It had varying shades of light blue with cracking white stripes throughout that made it look like the clear blue ocean waters you only ever see in postcards from exotic islands.

You didn’t realize the class was ending until you heard the clamor of people cleaning up, suddenly relieved that you had rushed through the beginning.

When you noticed him walking towards you, you promptly hid the pendant behind your back. He was doing the same, hiding his creation behind him. Before you could even argue at who was going first he brought his out.

Your eyes widened when you saw a sculpted bear about the size of a cell phone. It was almost identical to the stuffed bear you had given him earlier, only the sweater this one wore matched the blue striped one Austin was wearing. He blushed and offered it up to you, “I didn’t want you to go bear-less, I’m sure he kept you company before you gave him to me.”

The gesture softened you in ways you didn’t even know was possible. Nobody had ever made you feel that way, no one had ever been so thoughtful.

“Oh my gosh, thank you.” Letting out a tiny gasp when you took it with your freehand, bringing up to your eyeline to appreciate the detail. Every little hair was carved, every weave of the sweater pattern, even the teeny curves of its eyes all so precise and perfect. “How did you do this in such a short amount of time?”

He looked down and kicked his feet a little, “Well I, I been kinda working on it all week.” Mumbling down with his hand linked behind him, “Um,” He turned his shoulders a bit behind him to gesture to the older instructer, “Ethel was helping me with it. I wanted it to be perfect.” He shrugged.

Your brows curved together, “But I just gave you the bear today?”

He chuckled, “Yeah, that’s why I was so excited when you gave it to me – well besides that it was cute, and I love stuffies. But I was already working on a bear for you. I just added the sweater today though, because yours had one. It inspired me.” His teeth tugging his lip resisting a smile.

“Well, this just isn’t fair.” You huffed dramatically and his eyes instantly filled with worry that you didn’t like it. “I didn’t have a whole week, and all I could come up was this.” Bringing your hand out keeping the heart hidden in your hand before opening it up for him. “It’s not nearly as good – I, like I said me and art we just-“

He stole the pendant from your hand and looked at it in awe, “I love it.” He said softly, gently running his thumb over the stone. “Where did you get this crystal? It’s so pretty.”

“I well- I picked it out at a crystal shop. It made me think of you.” Bringing your shoulders to a shrug and your free hand to scratch your other arm. “It reminded me of your eyes, I guess.”

The corners of his lips couldn’t have gotten wider as he held the charm against his chest, “Ah y/n, this is so nice.” He pulled it out to look at it again then looking up at you with big bright blues, the same ones that resembled the stone. “Really, really nice. I love it.”

You chuckled, “Well, I’m glad you like it. I really love my bear.”

He pressed his lips together, “Really!”

“Yeah, you know, I was really gonna miss him.” You smiled sweetly at him.

A tiny excited squeak escaped him, “Oh I’m so happy you like him!”

You were lingering outside your cars making small talk trying to prolong your time together when you figured you might as well take the plunge. “Well, would you like to come over to my dorm?” You asked, not really expecting anything out of him but the night had gone so well you didn’t want it to end.

“I uh- yeah sure!” He tugged at his lip and nodded.

You twisted the key to your home and pushed it open, revealing the messy single dorm. “Sorry for the mess, I uh- didn’t expect anyone over.”

He chuckled looking around, like he was genuinely curious at your living area, “It’s okay, my dorm is covered in canvases always so, I get it.” He walked around then you heard a small squeak from him.

“You okay?” You asked from across the room, thinking something was wrong but he looked at you with a giant grin, “You put my pen holder on your desk!” He gushed. “That’s nice. Really nice.” Bringing his sleeved hand to his mouth, biting down on his thumbnail.

“Oh, yeah of course. I love it.” You gave him a sweet smile, “Which reminds me,” walking over to where you placed your purse down, and pulling out the heavily wrapped gift. You precariously unwrapped the packing paper and placed the clay bear next to the pencil holder, “I had to put him out.” You beamed and leaned over to his grinning face, placing a quick peck on his cheek. It seemed as though he might explode, not knowing how to respond.

You began walking to the kitchenette, “You want something to drink?”

“W-water if you got it?”

“Yeah of course I have water you weirdo.” You teased, opening your mini fridge and taking out two water bottles. Walking over and handing him one, “You wanna watch a movie or something?”

“Sure!” He replied, accepting the water bottle and cracking the cap off, “What kinda movies do you like?” He inquired, bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a quick sip. It wasn’t until then that you noticed just how plump his lips were.

“I like scary movies!” Then realizing he didn’t seem like the type to like them, he was much too skittish. The immediate widened eyes confirmed that theory.

“Oh uh-“ He forced a smile, “I like scary movies, we can watch a scary movie if you want.”

You raised a brow at him, “You sure?”

He pressed his lips together and nodded, “Mhm!”

“Okay…” You analyzed him. Normally, if your relationship was deeper, you’d know to pick up on his obvious hesitation and choose another option. But, you thought this would be a good test. Part of your hesitancy of pursuing him first was the idea that he wouldn’t be able to keep up with you. You had a preference of dating subbier-type men and he read that way but you didn’t know much about him yet, you had no knowledge about his past experiences or interests, or if he even was a ‘sub’, or if he was just a shy inexperienced man.

So, this scary movie would be a test to see where he stood, how he’d react. You weren’t cruel though, you would pick a pretty calm slasher film and of course you’d turn it off he really didn’t enjoy it.

You plopped onto your grey suede couch and noticed he just stood there, like he was unsure of what he was supposed to do. You chuckled and patted the seat next to you, “Well are ya gonna come sit down silly?”

“Oh-Oh yeah of course!” He quickly shuffled over to you and gently sat beside you, further than you would’ve liked.

You flipped through the options on Netflix and chose one of the later, less good Halloween movies. You felt him tense up even in the opening scenes but as the movie progressed, you inched closer to him. There was a blanket slung over the back of the couch and draped it over the two of you. It was appropriately themed pink with hearts. You figured if he was afraid, he could use it to hide in.

The blanket plan worked, not only did it give him some comfort, but it also allowed him to discretely scoot closer to you. His hip now flush against yours as he curled the blanket close to his chest, his eyes glued to the screen horrified. It was kind of adorable his reactions were, gripping the blanket and jolting a bit during intense scenes.

In a particularly frightening jump scare scene, he covered his face with the blanket and jumped so far up he landed partially in your lap. Deep red filled his cheeks when you curled your arm around his waist pulling him completely into your lap. “You okay? We can turn it off if you want?”

He brought his sleeve up to cover his mouth, “Um…m-maybe we take a break?” He suggested even though you knew the answer was yes.

“Okay, that’s fine.” You replied calmly and paused the movie behind him. “Would you like to stay here for a bit?” Referencing his spot in your lap.

“Y-Yeah, is that okay?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah sure, of course.” Curling your hand around his waist and pulling him closer, “Would you like me to play some music? Is there something that is calming for you?”

“Uh- You can’t make fun of me.” He dug his teeth into his bottom lip.

“I would never.” You reassured.

“Okay, um, I like classical music? Like Beethoven?”

“What! Why would make fun of you for that?”

He shrugged, “I dunno, because it’s not, ya know popular now.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “C’mon now.” Picking up your phone and connecting to your Alexa to play a classical mix playlist. You could physically feel the immediate relief the music brought him.

“So, classical huh?” You softly reached around him to bring the fallen blanket back around his shoulders.

“Thanks,” He gave you the tiniest smile and took the edges to fully cocoon him, “Yeah, I listen to it while I’m painting… it kinda-“ He shook his head, “Nevermind it’s really stupid.” Pulling the blanket tighter around him.

“No, no c’mon, you can tell me?” You pressed in a delicate tone.

“It’s just- When I listen to classical music when I paint, I guess it inspires me? It makes me feel like one of the greats ya know?” His baby blue eyes were brighter than you’d ever seen them before. His voice was clear and excited, not stuttery and shy like normal. “Like what was Van Gogh listening to when he painted ‘Starry Night’?” Once he picked up on his evident excitement he backtracked, waving away the words he’d just said, “Sorry- Sorry I know it’s lame.”

A wide smile tugged at your lips, “No, it’s not.” Gently finding his wrist over the blanket and gave him a tiny squeeze, “I think it’s really cool that you’re so connected to your art like that, I just, yeah. I really like hearing you talk about it.”

He pressed his lips together, wrapping one arm around himself and keeping the one you held still under your touch.

“You’re pretty cute you know that?” You tugged you lip between your teeth, almost excited to see his reaction.

As expected, he turned tomato red, “Oh- thank you.” He said shyly, “You’re really pretty.”

The words returned the flutter from earlier, you didn’t expect this date to go anywhere but you really weren’t prepared for the churning in your tummy from the tiny things he did.

“Thanks darlin’” You took a leap and grazed the back of your hand against his cheek. The slight nerves of thinking he would retract faded when he just blushed and nudged his face a bit against your touch. You followed the natural inclination to tangle your fingers into his blonde curls and scratched his head lightly. He only leaned into your touch more, closing his eyes and letting out a small happy noise.

“Hey, I forgot I got some valentine’s day candy if you want some?” You asked, pulling your hand from his hair.

He seemed disappointed at first, then quickly perked back up at the mention of candy. “Sure!”

“Okay,” You brought your tongue between your lips as you strained to stretch across the couch to the side table with Austin still in your lap. He only giggled at your difficulty but didn’t intend to move his comfortable position. Amidst your struggle, you were finally able to pick up the glass bowl that held a mix of holiday candy. “Here, take your pick.” You offered the bowl to him.

He used his finger to careful move the candy around, very seriously focused on finding the perfect choice. Finally, he plucked a small baggie of candy conversation hearts and gave you a little smile to indicate he’d made his choice.

You chuckled at the precision of his extraction then mimicked his actions, finding a red heart-shaped lollipop. While Austin was distracted by his delicate opening of the teeny clear envelope of his candy hearts, you were carefully freeing the red lolli from it’s plastic covering.

He popped a lavender heart into his mouth and looked up at you appearing content with the flavor, the edges of his mouth curled in a way that accentuated his cheekbones. The moment he saw you drawing the candy from your lips, his demeanor changed. His gaze stayed on the lolly each time you slid it out through your closed lips.

You noticed this and took it as an opportunity to see just how flustered you could make the shy boy. When you opened your mouth, you slowly glided the sugary confection down your tongue, then using the tip to swirl around it. He visibly gulped and pulled the blanket around him fully, shifting a bit in your lap.

You smirked knowing the power you held over him over something as small as a candy. Dragging the lolly down the length of your tongue again, you held it out to him, “Want a taste?”

His eyes widened and cheeks burning red realizing he’d been caught, “I-I um, I just, uh-“

You leaned forward slightly and tapped the candy on his bottom lip, “Open up for me?”

He stilled completely, looking at you wide eyed and hesitated before obeying. He hesitantly took the lolly in his mouth, wrapping his lips around the base. You kept hold of the stem and could feel his tongue move around it, the feeling alone was enough fill your core with butterflies. He pulled off the candy and looked at you as if asking for further direction.

“Good boy.” You said softly and kept eye contact with him as you took the heart back in your mouth, sucking all of his saliva off of it. He began to squirm again. Your fingers followed the edge of the blanket and attempted to tug it open, but he tightened his grip on it. “C’mon baby let me see you.”

He shook his head vehemently, “No-no.” His hand found yours though and guided it up his thigh beneath the blanket. “Only under- if-if you want.” He whispered.

“Okay.” You nodded and followed up his thigh to find a bulge covered by his jeans.

He writhed the moment you landed on the bulge he’d been hiding from you. You pulled him closer in your lap and began peppering kisses along his neck while palming him over his jeans, “Is this what you’re squirmin’ about?” Whispering just under his ear.

“Sh.” He whined, hips slowly rutting against your hand, “Needy.”

You let out a low chuckle at his choice of words, “I see that.”

A sharp gasp escaped him once you pulled his skin into your mouth beginning to form a dark bruise. “You’re so hard for me baby.” Quietly against the darkened mark. “You’re this hard over a piece of candy?”

“M-mhm.” He whimpered softly.

“Mmm.” You hummed against his neck, beginning to unzip his pants and slipping your hand over his boxers. “You wish that lolly was your cock?”

He let out a loud whine and rolled his hips against your hand even faster desperate for friction. “Please.”

“Please what darlin?” Your motion on his stiff member agonizingly slow.

He whimpered and you already felt precum seeping through his underwear. “C’mon use your words for me?”

He kept speechless but he was writhing under your touch and tiny quiet sobs fell from his lips.

“Hmm.” You dragged your hand up to the band of his boxers, slipping a finger beneath it, “Don’t you wanna be a good boy for me?” You whispered under his ear.

“Y-yes!” He squeaked immediately, “I um- please touch me.”

You smirked, “See? That wasn’t so hard.” Pulling the band over his hard member, it already twitching from your proximity. You began leaving sloppy kisses over his neck while dragging a finger up his length.

He whined, “Please.” Begging again and bucking a bit into your hand.

You chuckled against his neck, “You really are so needy huh?”

“Mhm.” He hummed, letting out a tiny moan when you began sucking marks into his skin.

“I’m gonna mark you up, so everyone in class can know how big of a slut you are.” You mumbled against his skin beginning to pump his cock slowly in your hand.

Whines started pouring from his lips, “Ah! No-no I don’t want them to know! I’ll be so embarrassed.”

“Hmm,” Working on an even darker hickey, “You know what’s even more embarrassing?” Your hand picking up speed on his member, driving him crazy in your lap. “That they’ll know who gave them to you, who you belong to.”

“B-Belong?” He asked you wide eyed and innocent.

“Mhm.” Hooking your index under his chin and pressing your lips into his, “Mine. You like the sound of that?”

His cheeks reddened more than you thought possible and you’d never seen anyone look so cute while getting jacked off. “Mhm. Yeah, I like that.” He nodded cutely.

“Good,” Placing another quick kiss on his lips, “Now be a good boy and spit for me.” You brought your hand up to his mouth. He obeyed and spit into your palm, the sight of him with drool dripping from his plump lip was enough to pool wetness into your panties. “Fuck you’re so pretty.”

“Sh.” He hushed, shifting in your lap so that each knee was around your hips then hiding in your neck. “You’re making me all… I dunno.” He nuzzled his nose into the curve of your shoulder.

Your heart fluttered at his reaction to your praise and only fueled your work on him. “Such a good boy.” Your hand having a better rhythm with the help of his spit. His hips were bucking into your hand wildly, letting sobs fill your ears.

He decided to copy you and start trailing kisses up your neck, cause you to suck in a breath not expecting the sensation that his lips burned into your skin. He swirled his tongue just under your ear, growing the pulsing in your clit. You needed his tongue on you.

He whined loudly, “I-I’m close.”

In preparation you brought your shirt up to just under your bust, to make sure he wouldn’t spill on it. “Okay, cum for me?” It earned you some even louder moans, but then remembered his reaction from earlier, “My pretty baby, won’t you be a good boy and give me your cum?”

His rutting in your fist became sloppy and erratic, his whines filling your living room completely. Then one final thrust did him over, shooting milky stripes across your stomach. His head lulled against your shoulder, his breathing rapid obviously spent by the endeavor.

You smiled down at him and kissed his cheek, “You were so good for me.” You whispered and he gave you a lazy smile. Your hand tangled in his hair giving his head a little scratch and as predicted, his eyes fluttered closed with a content tightlipped smile.

Once he came back down from his high, a light pink filled his cheeks when he noticed the mess he made. “I’m sorry I… did that on you.”

“It’s alright.” You said calmly, “But I want you to clean up your mess.”

His eyes widened, “I um- I can get some paper towels or-“

“No baby, I meant with your tongue.” You clarified with a mischievous sneer.

“Oh- um okay.” He nodded but before he could move off of you, you cupped his chin, “The mess on my tummy is not the only one you caused. I want you to clean that one up too.”

His breath hitched looking stunned but nodded obediently. He dismounted from you while you slid your shorts off and shifted to lay sideways on the couch facing him then spreading your legs in front of him. “Well what are ya waitin for darlin?”

He eyed the mess on your stomach seemingly hesitant but surprised you when he leaned down beginning to swipe up his own cum with his tongue. The feeling of his tongue just inches above your core set a rampant buzzing in your clit.

When he was done, he sat back on his legs and stared at your core in awe, like it was some gourmet meal. You noticed that he was hard again in his boxers. “Aw, are you hard again?”

He nodded, “Yes. I’m sorry.” Hanging his head in embarrassment.

“Come here.” You instructed with a curled index towards you. When he move over you at your command, you cupped his cheek. “You wanna tell me what made you hard again?”

He shook his head but kept his cheek glued to your hand. “Was it just from looking at my pussy?”

“A little, yeah.” He said tugging at his lip and keep his eyes diverted, indicating there was something else.

You perked a brow up trying to think of what it could be before a devious smirk spread across your lips, “Was it because I made you clean up your mess?”

Deep rouge returned to his cheeks, “U-uh… Embarrassed.” He muttered into your palm.

“Hmm. Does that happen a lot when you’re embarrassed?” By the way he nuzzled and hid his face in your palm and his cock noticeably twitch in his boxers answered your question.

“I’m sorry just- I can’t help it.” He mumbled.

“You don’t gotta be sorry baby.” You said softly, “Here’s the deal, if you make me cum, I might let you cum again.”

His eyes lit up, “You’d let me cum again?”

“Mhm, if you’re a good boy. But I have some rules.”

“Okay?”

“Rule #1, you can’t cum without my permission.” He nodded, “Rule #2, this time, if I let you cum, it has to be without your hands.”

His look mixed with fear and confusion, “Huh?”

“If you’re gonna cum again, you’re gonna have to do it while humping the couch. In your boxers.” You stated

“W-What?”

“You heard me. Now do you wanna cum or not?”

He nodded quickly, “Yes ma’am.” Then beginning to shift down but you caught his jaw with your hand, forcing him to meet your eyes.

“Are you okay with this? You like when I tell you what to do?” Realizing maybe you got carried away and wanted to check in to make sure you were on the same page.

He gave you an excited and reassuring smile, coming back up to meet your lips. “Mhm. Like it a lot.” Nudging your nose with his. You felt him about to pull away but something in you wanted just a bit more of it, bringing your hands up to his cheeks drawing him into a deeper kiss.

His kiss was gentle but not stiff, tenderly danced his lips against yours. You swiped his bottom lip for entrance, and he obliged opening for you. You tangled your fingers into his long blonde hair and wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer. You strategically tightened your legs around him so that his covered tip would tease at your entrance causing a sharp gasp from him. “Fuck.” He moaned against your lips.

You giggled in satisfaction, holding his face in your hands, “If at any point you want to stop or you’re uncomfortable just say…” Trying to think of something to use as a safe word but he answered for you.

“Candy heart!” He perked up with a little giggle which made your heart soar at how cute he was, even when you were about to torture him. “That way I can show you one or point if… I can’t talk or something.” It made you wonder if that was some shy way of hinting at some other kink.

You smiled wide, “Okay, Candy Heart it is then.” Lifting up to kiss him again, “Now be a good boy and eat my pussy will you?”

His eyes widened a bit and quickly moved down between your legs, lying flat against the sofa. He spread your lips apart then leaned down to kitten lick at your swollen nub and it felt like heaven. “Fuck,” You breathed out, tangling your fingers into his shaggy hair, pushing him further into you. He let out a moan at your taste.

It didn’t take long for him to start rutting against the couch, which reminded you of another condition. “Oh yeah, there’s another rule.” You smirked when he looked up at you, fear in his eyes. “You’re not allowed to stop until I say so – that includes your humping.”

His eyes widened at your words, pulling away from you, “B-but, I-I’m gonna get close.”

“That’s not my problem. If you cum without permission, there’ll be a price to pay.” He hesitantly nodded.

His whines increased as he lapped up your juices trying his best to get you to finish, his ruts against the couch a bit too slow for your liking.

“Faster.” You demanded and he sped up on your clit. You firmly grasped his hair, “Not on me.”

He whimpered, pulling away from you, your juices slathered all over his mouth and chin. “But I-I’m close.” He sobbed.

“Not my problem.” Shoving his face back into your core needing his tongue back. His rutting increased slightly accompanied by small desperate cries.

“Faster.”

He whined loudly, “I can’t! I’ll cum!”

His absolute desperation was driving you towards your climax, you loved seeing him like that. “You cum, you’ll regret it. That’s a promise. Now faster.”

He fucked himself against the couch, whines and whimpers vibrating against your clit and it was driving you fucking crazy. “Such a pretty little slut.” Combing through his hair to see him better. His eyes scrunching closed obviously struggling to keep it together.

“Faster.”

“I can’t! I can’t! I’m gonna cum!”

“You’re gonna disobey me? Or you’re gonna be a good boy?”

He listened, fucking himself faster against the cushion. His entire body was trembling teetering on the edge of his precipice. You were right there too, just at the edge. The sight of him struggling turned you on in ways you never even know you could reach.

“Faster.” You breathed out, your chest heaving.

“I c-can’t!” He cried into your core.

“I didn’t fucking ask.”

He sped up, “Fuck! I’m gonna cum!”

“Hold it.” You warned.

“I’m gonna cum!”

“Hold it.” You growled through your teeth.

“I-I can’t i’m gonna- i’m gonna cum, I-I-“ Loud moans poured against you and his body tensed up, releasing once more into his boxers. But his tongue never stopped working on you.

The absolute pure desperation of him drove you into your own climax, your moans matching his, rolling your hips into his mouth. His incessant swirling of his tongue pushed you even further, just from how much the entire scene turned you on. Euphoria washed over you, sending tingles even down to your toes. But he still didn’t stop.

“What a good boy.” You groaned, keeping a tight fist in his hair with your thighs clamped around his head. “You don’t stop til I say so.” He was completely in your control, obviously making up for his mistake. His tongue felt so good on you, which answered your question from before – if he’d ever been on a date. There was no way this was the first time he’d ever done anything, his tongue was too fucking skilled to be an amateur. And the way he obeyed you? Listened to you? Begged? He was an expert.

He kept eating you, not too fast and not too slow, just right. Just enough to edge you towards another orgasm. “Fuck.” You practically growled out feeling the buzzing build in your clit again. He looked up at you with round, submissive blue eyes – another indicator that he was no novice. He had picked up on your weaknesses and he knew just how to use them on someone dominant like you. Those big puppy dog eyes and the small curve of his brows that communicated, ‘I’m sorry, I’m all yours to do what you want with, I want to make you feel good’. And it worked, the sight of him at your mercy did you in. The knot in your stomach unraveled and you felt your own cum release all over his face, but he didn’t stop, just like you said. “Fuck!” You cried, arching your back off the couch sharply. He kept devouring you and it was like your orgasm didn’t end, just prolonged. You cum kept flowing out of you like a fountain, more than you’d ever came before. Your chest heaved and when you knew you were finished, you gently patted his head. “You can stop now.” Breathing out weakly.

He pulled from your core with your cum all over his face, dripping off his chin. The sight of him, dripping in your cum and his underwear filled with his own made you ravenous. It reminded you of his disobedience.

You gathered all your strength to pull yourself up and onto all fours crawling over to him. “You didn’t listen to me.” You taunted.

He looked at you terrified, “I-I’m sorry I couldn’t help it!” Scooting away from you to the opposite side of the couch.

You backed him into the corner of the sofa, “I told you there’d be a price to pay.”

“I’m sorry I just-“ You swiftly slipped the soaked boxers off of him, crumbling them up in your hand.

“Open.” Gesturing at his mouth. You could tell he wanted to resist but was too scared. He nodded and opened for you. He whined when you shoved the most drenched part into his mouth.

You spit into your hand and found his cock again, it had softened a bit but quickly hardened again when you started pumping it in your hand. It was dark burgundy red and swollen from all the stimulation. Pained sobs came from behind the underwear lodged in his mouth. He shook his head profusely as your hand sped up. “Oh you wanna be a little slut and cum without permission? Well, if you wanna cum so fucking bad why don’t you cum again hm?”

Tears pooled in his eyes as he wriggled around in overstimulated agony. “Oh, what’s wrong? Isn’t this what you wanted? Isn’t that why you came all over me? And your underwear? And my couch?” You hissed through a smirk, getting off on his suffering.

He scrunched his eyes closed, tears being forced out, every muscle in his body contracting from the anguish. His fingers digging into the suede couch looking for anything to possibly ease the overstimulation. Sweat covered his forehead as he struggled beneath you.

“Aw look at you.” Your hand moving even faster on his cock, causing his eyes to widen, “Struggling so much. But even with this, I bet you’ll still cum like the little slut you are.” Taunting in a low voice, now hovering over his face. “Isn’t that right my pretty little one?”

His pained whines increased making the edges of your mouth curl into a leer, “Ah that’s right. Oh, you’re gonna cum aren’t you? You gonna cum like a little whore?”

He whined, still squirming wildly under you. You brushed a stray hair from his forehead, “C’mon baby, you’re so soo pretty like this. Be a good boy for me? Show me how much of a pretty little slut you are?”

All of a sudden, he bucked his hips harshly up into your hand, thick ribbons of cum erupting from his swollen tip. You palmed him til he rode out the high without over stimulating him again, gently pulling the underwear from his mouth. He looked at you through hooded lids, “I- You- We- Wow.” Was all he could muster, making you giggle.

You swiped the pad of your thumb across his cheek bone looking at him in awe, “You were so good.” Softly placing a kiss on his forehead.

“Yeah?” He squeaked only widening your smile.

“Mhm. And you’re so fucking pretty.” You tucked a tuft of hair behind his ear.

His cheeks peeked pink again, “Thanks… You’re really fucking hot.” He blurted out.

You busted out laughing not expecting that out of him, “Thanks babydoll.” Pressing a kiss to his cheek. “How about we get you cleaned up and then we can watch a not scary movie?”

“I’d like that lots.” He nodded excitedly, “Maybe we could watch 'Home'? I really like the little alien guy.” He giggled.

You chuckled and pressed your lips against his, “Sure baby, we can do that.”

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thank you for reading! if you enjoyed this story/my writing pls consider giving my main fics, Forever Winter or Just an Intern a read, if you like angsty sad smutty you'll love 'em lol

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