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lustspren · 1 day ago

Text

Enchanted

Male reader x Loossemble's Gowon (playing Ashley).

tags: harvard student gowon, public sex, bathroom sex, blowjob, facial, pussy eating.

word count: 8.2k

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Settling in a new state was a pain, especially if you were a college student who had just entered Harvard, no less. But that bar on the outskirts of campus had become your little refuge every weekend after doing your homework.

Not knowing anyone and not having any friends yet had led you to inevitably look for some entertainment on your own. That's how you found that gem: a wide three-story building—one of them underground—made of red brick and adorned with narrow colonial-style windows with pale wooden frames.

From the first moment you walked in there you were enthralled by the faint aroma of old wood and the freshly made coffee. There were spaces for all kinds of activities, mainly bars of course. But there were also tables to eat at, pool tables, dart boards, and even reading spaces with bookshelves where students like you could go to simply relax while doing their stuff.

Despite all these mini-ecosystems designed so that everyone could choose their preferred environment, all the activity was concentrated in the main bar on the second floor, where you spent most of your time and where you were at that very moment, on a cold Saturday at 8 pm.

The night was particularly quiet, lacking the usual crowds that there were at that time. It was probably due to the weather; you understood that many preferred to be in their rooms, warm under their blankets and enjoying their free time in a calm way. But you weren't doing too bad there, sitting on one of the stools in front of the semi-circular bar while drinking a beer and watching a Celtics game, well wrapped up in your windbreaker and winter hat.

There were few people around you, some watching the game as well and others just chatting among themselves at tables in the corners. The floor below, however, was and sounded busier since a birthday was being celebrated, and the drinks were slowly making the chatter blossom. You wouldn't have liked to be there at that moment; mass social events made you anxious, even more so when you had no one to talk to.

In any case, both places were better than being out there in the snow. Your gaze occasionally strayed to the window to look at it. The flakes floated slowly in the air, falling unhurriedly on the roofs and branches of the trees. It was late November, and the snowfall had only just begun, so there was still a while until Massachusetts looked like the North Pole itself. For now, however, it was nice.

But it wasn't all Christmas fantasy and candy and happiness. Unfortunately, final exam season was approaching since the end of the semester was in mid-December, and that meant doubling the effort and stress in equal measure. You were taking it easy, since you had practically every subject under control except for Molecular Genetics, but of course you wouldn't get too confident. In fact, you were enjoying that moment of relaxation since you would have to spend the whole next day studying without a break.

You had to admit that everything would have been easier if you belonged to one of the common study groups that were formed for these situations, but being a new student, you sadly had to settle for what little you had. That is, yourself. At least for now. Because you wished with all your heart that the situation would change soon.

Who was going to say that it would. Maybe not in the way you expected.

"Nah but I swear to god bruh, JT is kinda dumb sometimes," said the bartender, Jordan, while cleaning a glass. He was one of the ones watching the game with you.

"I mean, at least he tries," you said. "But in this game he needs to stop taking the shots."

"Oh god bro, they put me in the game and I'm making more threes than him."

While you, Jordan and two other guys were commenting on the game, another person sat down in the empty chair to your right. You didn't pay attention, as just like you, the person also started watching the game until the end of that quarter.

"Damn sorry Ash, I didn't see you, hi," Jordan said to the person who had sat next to you. "What are you doing here today?"

You turned to see this Ash person, not knowing that you were going to be completely dazzled by what your eyes were going to see. She was an Asian girl, with beautiful dark brown hair, pretty full cheeks and small bright eyes. You searched through your memories to see if you had seen her before, but it was unlikely that you had seen a girl that pretty and not remember her face. But she was really fucking adorable, wearing a blue jacket that looked like it was going to eat her up because of how petite she was.

"Hi Jordan," the girl replied, her lips slightly curved into a smile. "I was at the birthday party down there but well, I got overstimulated and my social battery got drained."

You didn't want to seem like a weirdo, so before she noticed, you looked away from her and acted nonchalant as you watched the commercials.

"Oh I can understand why," Jordan said, leaning his fists on the bar. "Those motherfuckers are loud as fuck. Same as always?"

"Nah, pour me something mild this time, I have to study tomorrow and I don't want a headache," Ash replied.

Jordan let out a laugh and stepped away from the bar.

"Him too," he pointed his index finger at you before turning his back to you. "And he's on his fourth beer."

You were flabbergasted. He definitely hadn't done that shit. You were forced to look at the girl and him with an embarrassed chuckle, shrugging.

“Oh, you’re a Harvard student too?” Ash asked, turning to look at you. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“I am,” you nodded. “And I haven’t seen you either. What faculty are you in?"

"Data Science, and you?"

"Biomedicine," you replied.

"Cool!" She raised her eyebrows, and turned her body towards you to give you her full attention. "So how's that going?"

You sighed and took a sip of your beer, which was almost empty.

"I'm a new student," you set the glass down on the bar. "So I'll know after this semester."

"Oh, new student huh?" she raised an eyebrow. "I guess that's been the hardest thing so far."

Jordan then came back to you and gave her a glass as well, from the color and bubbles you guessed it was vodka and lemon soda. You hoped it was more one thing than the other, because if not, there was absolutely nothing mild about that drink.

"Don't even remind me," you said with a sigh, as she drank from her glass. "It's been a shitty three months."

"Why?" she cocked her head. "I mean, I really don't mean to be nosy, but Harvard always does a good job of integrating new students with the others."

"Yeah, but that doesn't guarantee that people will like you," you then locked eyes with Jordan, who you motioned for another beer.

"But you don't seem like a bad guy, why wouldn't people like you?"

You shrugged, taking the freshly opened bottle of beer that Jordan had given you.

"I don't know, I think it's because I look at everyone like I want to kick their butts."

She giggled, and it was so adorable that you couldn't help but smile too.

"And you want to do that?" she asked.

"Sometimes," you brought the beer close to your mouth. "With some pampered jerks." You drank.

"Ah yeah, there are plenty of those here. I'm Ashley, by the way," she extended her hand towards you.

"I'm Mason," you accepted her hand and shook it with a small smile. "And you're one of the few people I've told my name to."

The last quarter of the game had already started, but it was impossible for you to pay attention to it, because you and Ashley were engaged in a conversation that flowed like the flow of a river downhill.

She told you interesting things about her life, like for example that she no longer lived on campus and had her own apartment not far from the bar. She also told you that she lived for a few years in South Korea with her mother, and that she had returned to the United States exclusively to study her degree. You didn't have too many things in common, contrary to what usually happens in romantic movies, but you could tell that chemistry arose between the two of you. She listened to you happily while you talked about your interests and hobbies, and you listened to her too. You laughed, and a lot, which seemed unreal to you since you had counted the times you had laughed with someone since you arrived at that place.

And damn, she was so, so pretty when she laughed that it made your inner self giggle and kick. Everything about her was adorable: her voice, the way she expressed herself, her smile, her hair, and even something as silly as the way she arched her eyebrows when you told her something slightly crazy.

Calling it love at first sight was downright stupid, because you were sure that to her you were just a friendly guy to have a nice chat with, but you were smitten. It was perhaps hasty to feel that way, but you couldn't just ignore that she, apart from being beautiful, was the first person your age that you had talked to for more than half an hour without feeling like you were bothering her.

And considering your situation, well, that was quite a lot.

"I swear to god!" you said, telling her about a time you had to chase your dog for almost two streets. "If it wasn't for..."

"Ashley?" a female voice said, coming from the stairs.

You and Ashley turned around. At the bottom of the stairs were two girls, both tipsy looking. One of them walked towards you.

"We thought you had gone home!" she said, standing next to you. "You coming? We're gonna continue the party at Riley's. place"

"Oh, sure," Ashley looked at you for a moment and then back at her. "Can you wait for me downstairs? I want to say goodbye to Mason."

"Who the fuck is Mason?"

You just held up your hand with an awkward smile.

"My pleasure," you said.

"Oh, my pleasure too," she nodded and then looked at Ashley. "Hurry up then, we're about to leave!"

"Yeah yeah go Vivian," Ashley dismissed her with a carefree wave of her hand.

Vivian turned around and walked with the other girl back down to the first floor. Ashley then looked at you.

"Sorry about that, I would have loved to hear more of that story," she said with a giggle.

"Don't worry," you shook your head and looked at your watch. "I'm actually running late too, I don't want to sleep that late."

"Oh, come on then?" she asked, standing up while pointing to the stairs. "We can give you a ride to campus if you want."

"Nah no need," you said with a chuckle. "I'll finish this beer and walk, but thanks."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah yeah," you nodded. "Worse distances I've walked."

"Alright!" she shoved her hands into her jacket pockets as she took steps backwards. "It was nice meeting you, Mason, really."

"Same here. Will you be back here next weekend?"

"Mmm maybe, maybe not," she shrugged. "I don't know, it all depends on my schedule."

"I understand," you nodded. "Well, I'm here every Saturday after 6."

"Good to know," she nodded with a smile. "See you later!"

She turned to walk back down the stairs, but you couldn't just let her leave like that. Who knew when you'd see her again?

"Hey, Ashley!" you called out to her, and she stopped with one foot on the first step.

"Huh?"

"Uhm... I don't mean to be intrusive, but can I have your number?"

Ashley chuckled, and you thought you'd made a fool of yourself and she'd leave, but instead she walked back up and walked towards you.

"I don't give my number to just anyone," she said, pulling her phone out of her pocket. "But we can follow each other on Instagram."

Well, a start was a start.

"Yeah I'm cool with that!"

Ashley showed you her Instagram, and you quickly went to yours to follow her. She then followed you back.

"There ya go!" she put her phone back away, and walked backwards towards the stairs. "Well, now I really have to go, my friends are going to kill me."

"Absolutely. Take care, okay?"

"You too!" Ashley said, then turned around and walked down the stairs.

"Uhm... I don't want to be intrusive, but can I have your number?" you heard Jordan scoff behind you, followed by a laugh. "Oh my god."

You sighed and turned back to the bar.

"Shut up bro," you said, and took a long drink of your beer.

After finishing that beer you finally asked for the bill and paid before leaving. The snowfall had gotten worse outside, so you spent the whole way back to campus with your head down and your hands in the pockets of your windbreaker, but most of all, thinking about her.

You couldn't help but feel like a complete idiot. She was a girl you had just met and she already had butterflies in your stomach. But how could she not? Every time you remembered her smiling it was like seeing a cute picture of Kirby, she even sounded like him when she laughed. She was unpleasantly cute.

When you got to your dorm the first thing you did was sit down and check her Instagram. She didn't have too many posts, but the few she had were 15 photos or more. Without realizing it, you spent about ten minutes absolutely mesmerized by her beauty, but because of that you missed a damn like on an old post that you quickly deleted.

You dropped the phone and brought your hands to your mouth, staring into absolute nothingness, thinking of the possible repercussions that would have, the worst being that you were going to look like a fucking stalker. God, you were a complete idiot.

You had no choice but to try to forget about it. Pretend it hadn't happened. Instead of thinking about it, you focused on attending to the needs of your stomach, which had been growling for a couple of hours, and after that, you took a shower and went straight to bed.

Despite being constantly aware of your surroundings, you didn't see Ashley during that entire exam week. It was kind of odd: your schedules would really have to be too different for you to never see her, even from a distance, and yet, at least once at some random hour you had to see her; Harvard wasn't that big.

She did upload the occasional story to her Instagram from time to time, many of them being things from her daily life and rather few of herself, whether in mirrors or selfies with her friends. There was one day when she even uploaded a story drinking a cocktail. Who knows where. Questionable, but certainly not your problem.

However, you didn't have time to be focused on what she did or didn't do. The week had been hard as hell, as had the exams you were prepared for but still felt like constantly walking a tightrope over an abyss. You were sure you had done well in each one, but there were several study sessions that had you with a severe headache that didn't go away until it was all over.

It was an exhausting week, and emotionally one to forget. But on Friday night something happened that you didn't expect, something that had you doing backflips and running up and down the walls of your bedroom. A like from Ashley on one of your old posts.

There were a couple of ways to interpret it. It could have just been a mistake, like yours had a few days ago. But that was ruled out when you realized that she hadn't unliked your post. The other way to interpret it was that she was making fun of you and wanted to let you know that she realized what you had done.

And of course, the last way to interpret it was that... Nah, that wasn't possible. Or was it? How the hell was the human version of Kirby going to be interested in you? That was impossible. You had only talked to her once, and you didn't remember being Prince Charming exactly. You had just been you, and that wasn't enough to make a girl like you after just an hour of conversation.

Or maybe it was? Thinking about it had you stressed out. You wanted to DM her, but doing so right now would make you look like a desperate weirdo. Maybe you lacked balls, but you wanted to do everything you could to not really scare this girl away, so you were going to take things slow and not make any risky moves.

Right now all you wanted was for Saturday to come. She had been clear with you, and you knew she could just not show up at the bar tomorrow. But you were still excited about the possibility that she would. You wished she would. And you had to think back to see if you had ever been this excited to see a girl in the past few years.

When the day came you went to the bar without any expectations in order not to be disappointed if something happened. When you got upstairs Jordan greeted you with his usual cheer, and you started your evening with the usual cold beer before the start of another Celtics game.

"Ayo bro what's wrong with you?" Jordan asked an hour later, frowning. "You're acting weird as fuck."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"You've been looking back like you're going to shoot the fuck out of this bitch and moving your leg this whole time. Look, you're doing it right now!" he pointed down.

You looked where he was pointing, and sure enough, you were moving your leg without realizing it. You also noticed that every so often you looked over your shoulder.

"First of all, I'm not going to shoot anything," you said, forcing yourself to stop your leg. "And... fuck, it's because of her."

"Her?" he raised both eyebrows. "Her who?"

"Fuck you mean her who?" You frowned.

“Ohhh! Ash?” he said, and let out a giggle.

“Aha.”

Jordan laughed and handed a ready-made drink to one of the customers near you.

“Right right,” he nodded. “Can I have your number?” he mimicked you in a silly voice. “Look, talking about Helen of Troy.”

You were two milliseconds away from turning around like the girl from the Exorcist, but you had enough self-control to turn your head like a normal person.

Ashley had just walked up the stairs, and she looked just as pretty as the last time you saw her, with her hair down, a white college sweater, and a grey scarf that still had traces of snow on it.

And as soon as she saw you, her face lit up with a smile, causing the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy.

“Uhhh you got her in your pocket bro, look at that smile!” Jordan said from behind you, close to your ear so Ashley couldn't hear. "Aight so hear me out, I'll give you a hand, you'll see."

You frowned.

"Wait what?" You turned to look at him, but he had already played dumb and gone on to serve another customer.

Ashley came to your side at that moment, taking the free seat to your right, just like last time.

"Hi Mason! Hi Jordan!" she greeted you both, but focused her attention on you.

"Sup," you greeted back, turning to her. "I'm glad you came."

"Yeah well, I finished all my homework early and also studied enough to be free today."

"Oh really? Free to see someone, maybe?" you raised your eyebrows and took a sip of your beer.

"Mmm, I don't know," she shrugged, a hint of a smile on her lips. "I was really in the mood for a drink on a Saturday."

You chuckled and nodded.

"Aight, you want a beer then? It's on me, and I insist."

"Yeah I'm cool with that!" she nodded.

"On my way!" Jordan said.

"Thanks bro," you said, then looked at Ashley. "So? How was torture week for you?"

The smile on Ashley's face faded, and her eyes wandered to an empty glass on the bar.

"I mean..." she cocked her head and made an awkward face. "Well, I think? I don't have too many hopes for myself, but I don't feel like I did a bad job either," she looked at you. "What about you?"

"Exhausting," you sighed. "But I feel like I'll pass everything with flying colors. Do you feel like you didn't study hard enough or what?"

"Something like that. Let's just say I got a little too confident."

Jordan came over with your beers and placed them in front of each of you. You both smiled at him in thanks.

"Why do I feel like that cocktail drinking story has something to do with it?" you asked with a raised eyebrow.

Ashley was about to drink from her beer when she burst out laughing, having to set the glass down on the table so she wouldn't spill it. You looked at her with a smile, gobsmacked by her cuteness.

“Hey!” she snapped between laughs. “That was just an hour!”

“But it was enough to distract you,” you said before sipping on your beer.

“Nah, I’m good at dividing up my schedule.”

“6 hours of drinking and another two for studying?”

She laughed again, and this time she gave you a small, friendly punch on the shoulder.

“No, silly. You’re really into my stories huh?”

“I spend a lot of time on Instagram, so I end up checking them all the time and accidentally,” you shrugged.

“Accidentally, I see,” she nodded slowly. “Same as that like, right?”

Your hand froze around the glass of beer, where you looked with a smile of being on the ropes.

“Yup, same as that like,” you looked into her eyes. "And yours? Was that accidental too or what?"

She gently shook her head, holding your gaze.

"Nope, that was completely on purpose."

A smile escaped you. Things were flowing smooth as butter. It was up to you not to screw up.

"So you did come here today to see someone huh?"

"Maybe," she brought a hand to a lock of her hair to play with it. "And you seemed to be waiting for someone today."

"You," you said, not really thinking about it beforehand, just a shot in the air.

"Oh really?" she raised both eyebrows, now curling her lock of hair. "But you always come here, not this day at this time?"

"Yeah, but the difference is that now I've been waiting all week for Saturday to come."

Ashley giggled and looked away, now playing with her fingers in her lap.

"To see me?" she asked, and looked at you again.

"To see you," you nodded.

"What if I didn't come?"

"Eventually you would," you shrugged. "Pure statistics. But the odds increase if you wanted to see me too."

Ashley was quiet for a moment, just like you had been when she brought up the subject of you liking her post, a half smile on her face and her gaze on her glass. She then shrugged.

"You got me, I guess," she said.

"It wasn't that hard either. Hey, do you want to get something to eat?" you asked, changing the subject.

"Like what?" she said, and took a long drink of her beer.

"I don't know, they make some pretty tasty stuff downstairs. Maybe something sweet?"

"Mmm, nutella waffles?"

"Oh hell yeah, and they make some amazing cookie sandwiches too."

“That’s a yes then!”

“You wanna go sit over there?” you nodded behind her, towards one of the tables in the corner.

“Sure, let’s go,” Ashley replied with a smile as you both stood up from the bar.

As you passed, you glanced at Jordan, who was watching you with a mix of expectation and complicity. In response, he winked at you and discreetly dimmed the lights in the bar. The atmosphere changed instantly: the shadows lengthened, the warm lighting accentuated the textures of the brick walls and created an intimate space at the table you chose.

You owed that guy one.

The table in question was a cozy booth, with a brown leather corner sofa and high backs set against the brick wall. Ashley slid into the seat and sat right in the corner.

“I’ll go place the orders, wait here, will you?” you said, setting your glass of beer down next to hers.

Ashley just nodded with a cute smirk on her face, and then you hurried downstairs. You placed the order as quickly as you could, with a couple of milkshakes on top of the waffles and sandwiches, and then returned to her, sitting down to the side.

"I hope you like the lemon pie milkshakes, they're delicious," you said, arranging the plates and glasses on the table.

"I love lemon pie," she said, picking up one of the milkshakes to drink from the straw. "Did the stalking pay off or what?"

A laugh escaped you.

"Sweetheart, as much as I tried, I haven't been following you long enough to know that."

"Oh, you're calling me sweetheart now?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Uh... I'm sorry, does it bother you?"

Ashley then moved closer to you. It was really something very subtle, but you noticed it by the closeness of your thighs.

"It's cute, why would it bother me?" she said, holding your gaze.

You were closer than you'd ever been at that moment. It could happen, and you had a feeling she wanted it, but after looking at her lips a few times you decided not to push your luck too much.

"I don't know," you shrugged. "Some people find it uncomfortable, and I wouldn't want to make you feel that way."

She stayed quiet as she looked at you. You frowned in confusion.

"What?" you said.

"You're really cute, Mason," Ashley replied, in a lower tone. "I don't know if anyone's ever told you that."

The way you folded yourself into seven separate pieces was a bit hard to hide, but you were sure it had to have shown on your cheeks as they felt warm from the blush.

“I-I… ah…” you felt like an idiot getting stuck on your own words; your brain had short-circuited for a few seconds. “No. At least not here.”

Ashley placed a hand on your thigh, near your knee. A statue could be more alive than you at that moment.

“That’s a shame, because you really are.”

You once again tried to say something, but only a silly stutter came out of your mouth that ended in silence. It was your chance.

“Shall we eat?” she said, before you could lunge in and kiss her. She didn’t notice your intentions, so she didn’t have to have done it on purpose. Still, it was pretty inopportune.

“Ah… yeah,” you nodded, turning back to the plates and milkshakes. "Sure, sure."

There was silence between you as you began to eat, but not an awkward silence, rather a peaceful one, which made it clear that both you and she were comfortable with each other. Only after a couple of minutes passed did you resume the conversation, which this time was oriented towards anecdotes and interesting facts about your lives. Needless to say, you felt like you could talk to her about anything and she would be just as happy to listen to you, as you would to her.

But you needed to kiss her. You really, really needed to.

"Gosh those waffles are really crazy stuff," Ashley said with the milkshake in her hand, once you had finished eating.

"What about the cookie sandwiches?" you asked with a smile.

"I wasn't that big of a fan, but they were good too," she shrugged.

You chuckled.

"Fair enough, we can't all have excellent tastes."

Ashley laughed and nudged you slightly. You stared at her. Noticing this, she tilted her head and frowned.

"What?" she asked.

"You're so fucking cute, Ashley," you said, admiring every detail of her pretty face, dimly illuminated by the warm light of the bar's spherical lamps. "You really are."

That took her by surprise. She blinked several times, visibly stunned by such a sudden statement, but as she processed the information, her lips curved into a small smirk.

"You think so?" she asked in a low tone, and brought her hand back to your thigh, now closer to your crotch, awakening in you thoughts that were no longer so innocent.

"Yeah, I think so," you said, and put your right arm in front of her abdomen to grab her waist. You couldn't tell from the baggy clothes the weather forced you two to wear, but she had a small waist and a tummy that you found extremely sexy.

"So what are you waiting for?" She squeezed your thigh with her fingers.

"Waiting for what?" You pressed her closer, your faces now inches apart.

Ashley leaned in close to your ear.

"To take me downstairs to the bathroom and fuck me," she whispered, and pulled back to look you in the eyes again. "And kiss me, of course."

W-h-a-t?

You blinked a few times, confused by what you had just heard. Was she the same Ashley? Had you gotten distracted and she had switched with her evil twin? It wasn't like it bothered you, but it was such a drastic change that it seemed unreal.

"Wow," you said with a chuckle, and brought the hand on her waist up to her thigh to brush the side of your finger against her crotch. "In that order?"

Ashley moved her hand up and placed it on your bulge to give it a single, firm squeeze.

"As you prefer," she said, biting her lip as she looked down at yours.

And then you kissed her.

From the beginning, it was difficult for you to control yourself from making a scene in front of everyone's eyes, because her lips had a delicious pineapple flavor that drove you crazy and made you want to devour her like a maniac. For the moment, you had to settle for that slow, discreet kiss, like the one any couple shared at a bar.

Ashley was forced to remove her hand from your bulge, and you were forced to remove yours from near her crotch. Instead she left her hands still in her own lap and you just continued to squeeze her thigh with your hand. As the seconds passed your breathing became heavier, and by the way she shifted in her seat you knew that it was enough of kissing and it was time to move on to the fun part.

"To the bathroom downstairs then?" you asked against her lips.

"The one on the basement floor," she clarified. "There won't be anyone down there at this hour."

"Do you scream a lot or what?" you teased.

"Take me there and find out."

You smiled and took her hand before standing up. You both walked out of the stall and straight to the first floor, where Ashley stepped away from you.

"Let me go first," she said, steps away from the exit. "I wouldn't want us to be so brazen either."

"Aight go," you nodded.

Ashley walked out of the bar and headed down to the basement. You waited for about five minutes before heading in that same direction, leaving the bar to go left and down the stairs that led to the basement. Just like Ashley said, there were like four people down there counting the bartender, so it wouldn't be a problem.

Absolutely no one paid you any attention as you walked through the room. Good for you, because you were able to enter the ladies' room without any opposition. Inside it wasn't hard for you to guess where Ashley was: she was in the back stall, with her hand sticking out of the half-open door.

Rushing in there you found her waiting patiently for you, leaning against the wall with her other hand behind her back.

"You're late," Ashley joked with a mischievous smirk as you locked the bathroom door.

"I'll go if you want," you pointed with your thumb.

"Nuh-uh, come here," she said, and grabbed your face with both hands before crashing her lips against yours.

With no potential stares now, you two were free to let loose, your tongues now entering the equation just seconds into the kiss, which was becoming more and more wild and sloppy. Ashley lowered one hand to the side of your neck, and brought the other to your cock to squeeze and massage it over your pants. You, for your part, were met with a pair of firm, round buttocks as you lowered your hands and squeezed them. She let out a small moan against your lips, and brought her other hand down to unbutton your pants, unzipping them, and reaching into your boxers to cup your cock with her delicate fingers and slowly stroke it.

"You must be freezing from the weather," she murmured after moving a few inches away from your lips. "Maybe I can give you some warmth."

With that Ashley dropped to her knees in front of you and pulled your pants and boxers down to your ankles. With your cock released in front of her face, she placed wet kisses on the underside, moved down to your balls to lick them, and then back to your tip to catch it between her lips and suck on it.

"Fuck Ashley..." you gasped, bringing a hand to her silky brown hair to push it out of her face.

She gave your tip a couple of sucks and pulled you out to slowly jerk you off.

"Still cold?" Ashley asked. "Don't worry, I got you."

With that she placed her hands on your thighs and opened her mouth to take your cock inside her. Now her lips went further, slowly going millimeters past the middle of your shaft to come back up and start sucking you off. She made eye contact with you, which made your cheeks feel hot since until a few hours ago you only saw her as a giggly adorable princess, and now that cute princess was giving you a sloppy, sensual blowjob.

"Fuck that's perfect Ash," you moaned, watching as she pumped her head at a steady pace, slurping up the saliva she left behind and also using her tongue to lick the underside of your shaft.

"Warm enough?" Ashley asked after pulling you out, now kissing the sides of your cock while rubbing her fingers along the first few inches of it. "I still have a little magic trick."

She put her hands on your thighs and took your cock back into her mouth. This time, after a few sucks halfway down your shaft, her mouth went further and further until it reached your base, where her nose rested for a few long, fascinating seconds as your tip brushed the walls of her throat.

And yes, it was fucking warm. Overwhelmingly so, you dare say.

“Shit…” you moaned, letting your head fall back and bringing your hand to the back of Ashley’s neck.

A couple seconds later she released your cock with a couple of coughs and heavy gasps, and continued to jerk you off while wiping her spit-stained chin.

“Better?” she asked.

“Ashley… what the fuck was that,” you managed to say, now looking into her eyes. “The last thing I would think when I saw your face is that you give amazing blowjobs.”

“And I have a pretty tight pussy too, just so you know.”

You were officially going crazy.

“May I taste it?” you asked.

Ashley smiled and stood up, turned around and bent over with her hands braced against the wall of the stall. She then looked over her shoulder at you and looked down at your cock rubbing against her ass. You immediately got on your knees behind her, grabbed the hem of her sweatpants and pulled them down.

“Oh fuck,” was the only thing you could think to say. Her ass was a complete beauty: it was small, but the shape of her buttocks and how soft her skin looked made it look like a whole snack.

“You like it?” she asked, slowly swinging it from side to side.

"I have a way to answer that," you said, and placed both hands on either side of her hip before you began kissing every spot on her pretty ass, not stopping until both pale cheeks were covered in your saliva and your teeth marked on the fleshiest areas.

With your entrance already covered you wanted to move on to the main course as quickly as possible, so you grabbed her light blue panties—already with a wet spot in the middle—and pulled them down to her ankles along with her sweatpants, rolled around her feet. Her pussy was as pretty as her face, shaved, smooth, pink and shiny from how wet it was. You plunged your mouth in there without a second's thought.

"Mmmgh," Ashley moaned, pushing her hips back to bury your face between her ass cheeks, which you parted so you could easily taste her delicious, silky folds with your tongue.

The bathroom stall was soon filled with cute, low moans. You ate her pussy slowly at first, not wanting to look like a desperate fucking lunatic. But it was clear that wasn't going to last too long, not when her wet flesh was this delicious and her hips moved in such an adorable way as the pleasure built in her.

"Oh fuck I knew you'd be good with that fucking tongue," she gasped, her legs suffering from spontaneous tremors.

"You do?" you asked with an incredulous giggle, and squeezed her ass cheeks. "Apparently I was the only one with innocent intentions then."

"Don't get me wrong, me too," she looked over her shoulder at you, biting her lip. "But I also wanted you to eat my pussy really bad."

"Slutty behavior if you ask me," you said, and sank your mouth back into her pussy before she could protest.

Ashley moaned louder and pushed her hips back. Hard, to smother you with her ass. You contently let her do it at this point, more focused on licking between her folds and giving you a treat than your own breathing. This paid off a few seconds later, when the muscles in her thighs contracted and she burst into moans, grinding her ass into your face.

“Oh fuck!” she squealed under her breath, holding back from screaming louder. “Hurry up and fuck me for god’s sake!”

You stood up and bent over your pants bunched around your ankles to pull your wallet out of your pocket. Only to realize what a fucking problem there was: you hadn’t brought a fucking condom.

Were you fucking stupid or what?

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, eyeing the wallet.

Ashley turned to look at you with a scowl.

“What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t bring… well, you know.”

“A condom?” She raised an eyebrow. "Mason fuck the fucking condom fuck me already!"

Well, if things were that way you weren't going to refuse; you were too horny to think of the most responsible decision at the moment.

"Yeah you're damn right."

You dropped your wallet to the floor and focused entirely on her. Your left hand went to her waist, and with your right you grabbed your cock to bring it between her ass cheeks and rubbed the tip between her folds just a couple of times before pressing forward. You and Ashley moaned as you took the first few inches inside her.

"Oh fuck slow slow slow," she said, and you slowly took every inch of your cock inside her. "Oh yes that feels so fucking good!"

"You weren't lying about having a tight pussy, fuck," you panted already balls deep inside her, her pussy walls squeezing your cock.

"You like it huh?" she asked, looking into your eyes. "Then you better fuck it properly."

"Bet," you said, and began to rock your hips back and forth, patiently increasing the pace so as not to hurt her. Before long the thrusts became consistent, your cock going completely in and out of that smothering pussy and your smacks against her ass reverberating through the empty bathroom.

Ashley bent lower on her back, leaning with her forearms against the wall of the stall as you fucked her faster, clinging to her small waist and making her buttocks jiggle. The bubble of pleasure you were both locked in made you quickly forget you were in a public place, so it got to a point where you were making a downright shameless fuss.

Until you heard voices approaching.

Ashley's eyes widened and she looked at you. You stopped, and your first instinct was to push her away from the wall, wrap an arm around her body and sit on the closed toilet lid (which thankfully didn't break). She was smart enough to understand what you wanted to do, so she grabbed her sweatpants and panties, pulled them off her ankles and pulled her feet up onto your knees at the exact moment two girls walked in talking.

"Yeah I don't know why he acts like that," one of the girls said, and you heard a sink turn on. "But then her fucking bitch of a best friend comes and says I'm the toxic one!"

You covered Ashley's mouth, and with her hands resting on each wall of the stall, she slowly went up and down on your cock, while you, with your free hand, rubbed her clit at the same discreet rhythm.

"Bitch cut it with that son of a bitch already!" said the other. "You've put up with too much shit from him lately."

"Fuck, should I?"

"Fuck you mean should I?! He spent a night with that hoe!"

If you didn't have Ashley moving up and down on your cock in that delicious way you would have laughed. But you did have to reinforce your fingers in her mouth, because she let out a moan that was luckily drowned out by the sound of the sink running.

"But he has a big dick!" The girl protested.

The other girl growled in frustration, and this time you did manage to let out a smile that almost turned into a chuckle.

"I can't stand you bitch, I swear to god."

The faucet turned off, and now you and Ashley were helpless if they stayed any longer and paid attention to where you were.

"I still want him to break up with me, not me him. I don't want any trouble with that damn bitch," the other girl said, and now her voice was fortunately heard further away.

"Are you chickening out or what?" the other girl replied, already out of the bathroom.

The conversation was no longer understandable to you, indicating that they finally left the bathroom. You took your hand off Ashley's mouth, and she was free to let out a relieved sigh followed by a moan.

"Fucking annoying bitches," she hissed, then slid her feet off your knees to replace them with her hands and bounced on your cock harder. "God that cock feels so good I wanna cry."

You brought your hands to her waist and reveled in the sight of your cock fully entering and exiting her pretty little body. Ashley bounced hard and fast, filling the bathroom with clapping sounds and inconspicuous moans. Her ass cheeks looked so pretty doing it that you couldn't help but squeeze both together and leave a spank on one, and she responded with a cute squeal.

"Turn around, I wanna kiss you," you panted with your hand on her lower back.

Ashley complied, and immediately rose off your cock to turn around and straddle you, her legs hanging over the sides of the toilet. You wrapped an arm around her waist, crashed your lips against hers and made her impale herself on your cock again.

With a moan against your lips she began to move on your cock as fast as she could, because the position wasn't exactly the most comfortable for her. For you, however, it was more attainable since you could simply plant your feet firmly on the floor and fuck her up and down. Ashley, relieved by this, wrapped her arms around your head and held onto your hair as you fucked her.

"Oh god I'm gonna cum so hard," she gasped into the kiss. "Fuck keep going!"

You brought your hands up to her ass to squeeze and grope it again before cranking up the engine. Ashley let her head fall back and held onto your neck with both hands, quickly being dragged into an orgasm that had her writhing and grinding her hips on top of you.

As she was riding out her climax you took the moment to kiss her pretty pale neck and under her chin, arms wrapped around her petite, quivering body to keep it pressed to yours at all times. Then, when you felt like you could continue, you used the strength in your legs to stand up with her carried. Ashley had a little scare, but still managed to hold on with her legs to your torso until you pressed her against the left wall of the stall, spread her legs wide, and with your hands behind her knees continued to hammer her pussy.

"You know I'd love to?" you asked, peppering the side of her neck with kisses.

"W-what?" she managed to reply despite her ragged breathing.

"Seeing your pretty princess face painted white," you said, and moved up to her jawline.

"Let me finish you off then, handsome," she panted with her hands on your back. "I could use a hot load for my skin."

You immediately pulled out of her pussy, lowered her, and she got on her knees in front of you, her head resting against the wall behind her. She caught your tip with her lips, sucked on it, and gripped her fingers to your shaft to stroke it at full speed. The eye contact was more intense than you expected, as Ashley's eyes went from being two pretty, shiny orbs to the eyes of a feline predator eager for its prey. If that wasn't enough, the girl was naughty enough to also grab your balls and give them such a good massage that you exploded without even warning.

Feeling a drop of your load inside her mouth, Ashley quickly pulled you out of it to masturbate you fiercely and receive every jet of cum on her pretty face. Every corner was covered in thick white liquid, in a perfect work of art that was deeply contrasted by the place you were in.

She moved her wrist slower as you stopped shooting jets, and finally took you back into her mouth to suck and clean every possible inch of your shaft.

"Fuck... so beautiful," you managed to say between gasps, admiring her face covered in cum all over.

"And if you behave from now on you can have this as many times as you want, baby," she said, and blew you a little kiss. "Pass me some toilet paper please."

You did so, and first helped her stand up before helping her wipe her face. Then you got dressed, and spent at least another five minutes just making out. It was she who pulled away from you with a small smile on her face.

"Do you want to spend the night with me?" she asked.

"Yes!" you replied embarrassingly quickly and nodded. "I'd love to."

Ashley giggled and opened the stall door.

"I'll go first, but first, your phone," she held out her hand.

"Huh, for what?"

"Just give it to me."

You pulled your phone out of your pocket and handed it to her already unlocked. She then typed for less than a minute and handed it back to you.

"Here, you earned it," she told you, winked at you and walked out of the stall and out of the bathroom.

You looked down, and what you saw was her contact with her damn number.

━•✦•━•✦•━━•✦•━•✦•━

Spren Notes: Consider this just a starter to welcome the best time of the year, hehehe. Btw, with Gowon there are already 2 of the 12 LOONA girls. Hope to be able to write all of them sooner or later. As always. Thanks for reading! MASTERLIST HERE!

#gowon smut #loossemble smut #loona smut #kpop smut #smut fanfic #male reader smut #x male reader insert #smut

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bogkeep · 1 day ago

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in which i tell you about medieval timekeeping methods

ok we gotta start with BABYLONIAN TIME and SUNDIALS because this is the Foundation. this is what they used for thousands of years. pretty much every structure we have for understanding and conceptualizing time is based on The Movements Of The Universe - years, months, days, this is how we understand Time to pass. the sun and stars were used for keeping time since Always!!!! there were also multiple ways of keeping time with the Shadows of the sun, not just sundials, but also tablets to measure the length of shadows. And Such

BABYLONIAN TIME is twelve hours daylight, twelve hours nighttime. this makes very good sense considering Sundials, you just split the indicators into twelve parts. don't know why Twelve specifically other than that the babylonians liked it, but it is a very nice, divisible number, and its been kept as the base for all the hour keeping systems i've read about so far.

but yes this does mean that a babylonian hour does not have a set, static length like a modern hour does...! it changes with the seasons and the place, so a babylonian winter hour is different from, say, a winter hour in northern norway. it probably helps to be closer to the equator and reliable sunny weather.

until the invention of mechanical escapement clocks, babylonian time was The main, foundational understanding of timekeeping, BUT...!!!!!! the church put a spin on it. what the monasteries needed to keep time for was Prayer Times, which they had seven of and were based on the passion of the christ. so they signaled the Seven Canonical Hours, starting at sunrise, ending at sunset. church bells is also how people kept time, because you could hear them out in the fields. timekeeping was a bit of a wibbly wobbly art but accuracy wasn't That important.

the various methods used to keep time in addition to sundials included: the cock's crow, candles, hymns, incense, and water clocks. not hour glasses, as they were invented around the same time as mechanical clocks. isn't that wild!!!!!!!

WATER CLOCKS, also called clepsydra, are a diverse category of clocks ranging from a container with water dripping out of it at a steady pace, to complex hydraulic mechanisms with weights and stuff that i honestly have yet to grasp. the simple versions were used in classical greece + rome in the same way you'd use hourglasses, to keep track of speech time, watch time, et cetera. the islamic world + china were the ones to develop the complex water clocks. there's documentation of a water clock in gaza that had like, moving automata and stuff around year 500. there was a water driven astronomical clock in china around year 1000. water clocks made a comeback in europe around the 1100ds, and were getting more widespread use. like at least they work at night, unlike SOME dials

"mechanical clock" is a bit of a misnomer since water clocks were clearly also mechanical, and the exact time of invention of what we think of as mechanical clocks is Vague. the word "horologia" was used to refer to any kind of timekeeping device, including the noble rooster, so it's a bit of a semantic haze.

they had astrolabes, which Could be used to tell the time, but weren't used to do that in the daily life. scientists wanted to make an automated astrolabe for like, the Science, they just needed to invent the perpetuum mobile first and then combine them. obviously.

the missing piece for the MECHANICAL CLOCK was the escapement, the mechanism that regulates the time with which the gears turn. once they got this going, probably early 1300ds, they got the shows on the road. the shows being: the astronomical clock, and the public striking clock. these were considered different things, you see.

the astronomical clock is the Automated Astrolabe. it shows the movement of the sun and moon and stars and as a consequence, the Time. they had dials that people could read the time from, but they were generally considered objects of prestige and god's glory, kind of like cathedrals. they often had moving figures and such.

now, public clocks that mark the hours with sound, THAT'S a timekeeping device. they didn't even have clock faces at first, and it really is so interesting to think about how looking at a clock wasn't considered the main way to tell the time. these clocks seem to have originated in italian cities and spread from there, and this is where we get ITALIAN TIME.

to show babylonian time with a mechanical clock is impractical. the machinery is good at regular movement, to show babylonian hours you kind of need the astrolabe. so italian hours were static and unchanging in length. you had twenty four hours in a day, and the cut-off point was half an hour past sunset. that was the end of the twenty fourth hour, and a new calendar date begun.

of course, the time of the sunset keeps changing all the time As Well, so these clocks had to be adjusted for that Continuously. which was annoying but they still did it until the 17th century. this method was used in italy, bohemia, silesia and maybe poland? i'm unsure what they used outside these spaces at the time, if they stuck to the babylonian hours even with mechanical clocks and did complex maths about it.

at least the NUREMBERG CLOCK had its own take on it, even if it didn't spread beyond southern germany at all. they used babylonian hours, but instead of changing the length of an hour, they changed the amount. eight day hours and sixteen night hours in december, opposite in june. the tables needed for how many days with how many hours were very complex and annoying also.

the concept of starting a new calender day at midnight, and never needing to constantly adjust day hours or when the sunset begins, WAS known but only used for scientific and astronomical purposes. like that's such a weird way to split the day!!!!! twelve at MIDDAY?? WEIRD. some travellers noted that this was a very practical and elegant solution, though, but travel and far flung communication was still very slow, so mismatched timekeeping was more annoying than inconvenient. but anyway that's for the future to figure out

#clockblogging #HERE U GO. HERE IT IS #were it not for the language of this site i could've just copypasted this section of my thesis #maybe some is repetition from my other posts.#anyway source for all this is history of the hour by gerard van-dohrn rossum #long post

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kurishiri · 3 days ago

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5 facts you maybe didn’t know abt alfons bc his route is coming (no major spoilers)

at some point after entering the greetia household, he changed his way of speaking. this is especially prominent in the japanese version, when he goes from the more casual or “crude” way of speaking all the way to keigo (or “polite” language). the gap between his polite language and the actual words that comes out of his mouth is part of his humor thats especially prominent in japanese, and a may be bit lost in translation in english.

he is really good at cooking. this is shown in his profile, but he does not show off this skill often. he only shows this skill twice in the entire history of ikevil so far. once in his main story, and once in his second birthday story. so enjoy those moments when you run into them!

in the japanese version, he uses honorifics with everyone (including kate), except one person. and that person is elbie. he calls everyone by the —san honorific, including kate, and he still does even after they get into a relationship. he calls william and victor with —sama, probably because by all rights, they are his bosses. the fact he doesn’t use honorifics with elbie unless he is playing a role or feels like it, in which case he may use —sama (he seemingly switches on a whim using “lord elbert,” “lord elbie,” “elbie,” and “elbert”). the fact he doesn’t use honorifics with elbie indicates a very close relationship, as doing such (in japanese, this is known as [呼び捨て], or yobisute) with those who you’re not close to can be considered incredibly rude.

his last name, sylvatica, means forget-me-not (the flower). specifically, it comes from its scientific name, myosotis sylvatica, and it bears the symbol of remembrance, coming to symbolize various events and people, along with a symbol for alzheimer’s in some regions. since the olden times, it has also been a symbol of true, everlasting love and devotion. this is the surname alfons chose for himself sort of on a whim supposedly. it is unknown if he himself chose the name while aware of its meaning (and thus was trying to convey his wishes through it), though considering he was surrounded by forget-me-nots in a scene during elbie’s route, it may be a reflection of something deeper on the storyteller’s end.

despite his attitude and all appearances, he grows attached to others very easily. this is pretty evident in his past records with elbie, and even roger’s past records. he can’t really bring himself to separate from elbie and when he has thought about it, he initiated a game with him instead of just leaving. and also he was quite drawn to roger at one point in his life. even now, roger does have a place in his mind at least (i have the story regarding this point translated here if you’re curious, but note this is jp only content as of this post). and even with kate, it’s evident that since the beginning, he didn’t want to leave her alone. even before he realizes his own feelings, he’s pretty drawn to her and actually thinks of her as “cute,” “adorable�� or “darling.” and even in other routes, especially elbie and roger’s, he seems to show at least some attraction toward kate. so don’t let his facade fool you that much!

10 things you should know before you read alfons route.

#ikemen villains #ikevil #イケメンヴィラン #ikevil alfons #ikevil alfons sylvatica #alfons sylvatica #ikemen villains alfons #cybird ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #ikemen series #otome game #otome #d: enchanthings

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solarhysm · 3 days ago

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DUST OF US #DRABBLE - HOW YOU MET HIM

> synopsis: 7 years ago Y/N broke Jungkook’s heart when she decided to end their relationship without an explanation. When they meet again at a friend's wedding, after almost a decade, Jungkook needs answers to move on.

> pairing: Jungkook x reader

> genre: romance, ex to lovers au

> warnings: explicit languages, violence, smut, cheating, nsfw, angst, +18 minors dni !!

> word count: 1046

MAIN STORY HERE.

*french writer, i apologize in advance for my awful english!

AGE: 16 years old.

“Do you know that girl?” Jungkook asks Jimin as he sits beside him in class, and throws his backpack at his feet. Jimin arches a brow.

“Which one?” Jimin replies, scanning the classroom with his eyes. Jimin is popular in their high school. Not only is he handsome, but also really nice and charming, and for good reason.

Jungkook gained popularity shortly after Jimin, mostly because he’s Jimin’s best friend and also for his shy, cute bunny smile. Jungkook continues, pointing to the girl sitting next to the window in the last row.

“Y/N? The girl who got in a fight earlier?” Jimin frowns, his eyes fixed on you as you stuff a tissue into your bloody nose. Jungkook nods, his doe-like eyes falling on you too. He was there when you threw your tray at a girl who had tried to bully you.

He followed the scene from a distance. That girl came straight to you, screaming, mostly to get everyone’s attention. Apparently, the fight was about the girl's boyfriend cheating on her with you, but Jungkook didn't really understand the situation.

It was crazy for Jungkook. He had only kissed a girl once. He found it unimaginable that two sixteen-year-old girls would fight over one sleeping with the other's boyfriend. Well, he knew that most of the girls now were bolder than in his parents’ years.

However, that still wasn’t a good reason for the girl to grab your face and shove it into your food. Although he opposed violence, he couldn’t help but feel a small sense of satisfaction when you hit her with your tray, jumped over the table, and started throwing punches at her face.

He couldn't deny being impressed by your ferocity. Like every other student, he watched you two fought on the floor until two professors intervened to separate you.

Despite being restrained by the professor, who was blocking both your arms, you still had a fistful of her hair and tried to kick her with your foot, while she coughed on the floor.

“Y/N” Jungkook repeats your name as Jimin raises an eyebrow.

“Why?” Jimin questions, turning his attention back to his friend. “Honestly, it’s the first time I have heard something like that about her. Y/N is usually calm and drama-free,” Jimin continues, as Jungkook nods, his eyes still on you, and you feel it, turning your gaze to him before frowning.

His eyes widen, and he quickly looks down at his table. When he shyly glances up again, you’re already gone from your seat, and his brows furrow in a frown as he searches for you with his brown eyes, only to find you stepping out of the class, leaving your stuff at your table. At least you’ll come back, he thinks.

“Kookie!” Jimin calls out loud to Jungkook, who turns to him, “Aren’t you coming with us? We’re going to grab some snacks and head to Hongdae.”

Jungkook scrunches up his nose, shaking his head. He likes arcades, like every boy his age. However, he doesn't know half of the people in the group with Jimin. He's aware that the girl with short light hair, hopelessly looking at him for a positive answer, is trying to flirt with him.

He hates feeling uncomfortable when he's supposed to be enjoying himself with his friends. Jungkook is also too nice to simply tell her he’s not interested. He has homework to finish anyway.

After waving at his friend, he starts to make his way home. He’ll probably be alone. His parents are working, and his brother left for college a while ago. After grabbing a snack at the convenient store, he ends up sitting on a bench at the park, a spot he sometimes stops at with Jimin. Then, he sees you, and his eyes widen as he watches you with a little boy. Is he yours? He chuckles at himself.

The boy seems four or five years old. It was dumb of him to even think that. With a slight smile on his lips, he doesn't even notice that you’ve seen him too. You ruffle the boy's hair before letting him run off to play with the other kids, then make your way to him. Only now does he notice the bruise under your left eye.

“What are you looking at, chestnut?” You call him out, and he freezes, mumbling something as he nearly drops his chocolate bar.

“I- Wh- Me?” Jungkook babbles in a small voice as you stop right in front of him, hands in your pockets.

“Do you see anyone else around here with such a ridiculous haircut?” You raise a brow, and his cheeks flush as he tries to fix his hair, but it only makes it worse—and he knows it. “It’s the second time I catch you staring at me. What do you want?” You ask, folding your arms across your chest. His eyes fall on his shoes.

“Nothing.” He mumbles, avoiding your gaze. You sense his discomfort. He’s clearly not part of the group of friends of the girl you beat up earlier. That’s enough to make your features relax slightly.

“I’m Y/N”, you say, more gently this time, offering your hand.

“Jungkook.” He smiles softly, meeting your eyes and shaking your hand.

“I know. Everyone knows you, Jungkook.” you chuckle. He sighs, rolling his eyes.

“Unfortunately.”

“You don’t like being the prince of our school?” You tease him as he rolls his eyes, taking a bite of his chocolate bar.

“It's Jimin's title, not mine.” He corrects you. You always get their names mixed up, even though you know them, since you haven’t paid much attention to who’s who. His eyes fall back on your black eye. “That’s a colorful one,” he says, attempting to make conversation, though the words sound stupid as soon as they leave his mouth.

It was probably too bold of him, and you probably hate him now. But to his surprise, you smirk and brush the bruise under your eye.

You raise your shoulders, sit next to him, “She got worse.”

“Yeah, I saw the hair and blood on the floor.” he grins, shaking his head. When you laugh, he feels something new stir inside his chest—something he’s never felt before.

DUST OF US MASTERLIST.

WATTPAD.

buy me a coffee<3

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rebelliousstories · 1 day ago

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Home for the Holidays

Relationship: Logan Howlett/ The Wolverine x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Mentions of Alcohol

Word Count: 2,190

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: If there is anyone that can convince him to stay home, it was her. And if there was any time for him to stay home, it was now.

Consider Donating: Here

“Logan!”

“Logan! Come back!”

“Logan! Wolverine!”

Too many times had he heard the call of his name by those he loved. Too often did he refuse to turn back to go to them out of his own stupid pride. And, because of this, far too much did he miss out on fun events and memories. That had apparently went out the window the second that he decided to date his girlfriend.

Do not be mistaken, Logan still manages to find ways to slip away from the school in order to not join in on festivities. But it had been greatly reduced since she came along. A mutant who has the ability to decay anything with a single touch, that somehow fell in love with the man who could not seem to die.

Logan was picking up the keys to his motorcycle when she came to fetch him.

“Log, hey honey.” Her wide beam smile threatened to infect his own face, but he let a small tilt of his lips escape.

“What do you want, darling?” He grumbled, plopping his heavy body on the machine.

“Will you stay home with me tomorrow?”

Her eyes begged him, oh so cutely. But he knew what that was code for. It was what she did each and every time.

“Nope.”

“But, Logan.” He began to start the bike up, which drowned her out for a second.

“No. You’re not dragging me to another party.” The rumble of the beast underneath him was a calming feeling and sound. It was part of the reason he went on so many drives on it. Silence was so hard to achieve when you could hear things most people could never.

“Log, wait just a second,” her arms wrapped around his shoulders, keeping him right where she wanted him. “Please, it’s Thanksgiving. Just stay home with us please. With me?” Her pleas seemed to fall on deaf ears.

“I don’t do holidays. Besides, I’m Canadian.”

As he drove away, Logan could still see her crestfallen face in his side mirrors. Once he was out on the open road, he tried to put her upset expression out of his mind, but found he could not. This happened every major holiday; even the minor ones too. It was not that he did not like spending time with her, quite the opposite really. But it was that he did not care for the major celebrations.

Too many smells and sounds. People pretending that they wanted to be around him when in actuality they could not care less. As they got closer to the holiday season, people spent money that they did not have to impress people who would still think those same nasty things about them. The falseness of the months of November and December repulsed him.

But the long he went, the more he thought about her. This was their second Thanksgiving together, and he had done the exact same thing last year. Driven off on his bike, camped at a dingy motel for the next two days with a constant supply of alcohol, before returning on Friday. Would it have truly been so bad for him to stay at home with her, and suffered through the festivities?

A ding broke his gaze from the road. He was running low on fuel. Sighing, Logan kept his eyes out for a gas station along the deserted road he was on. There was nothing he hated more than to run out of gas before he got to a place to fill up. Thankfully, that was not the case.

An old station that had probably not been repaired since the mid 70’s came upon his journey. There was a lone truck at the pumps when he pulled in, and another around back meaning that there was at least two people inside the building. For some reason, Logan felt the need to go inside and grab a snack. As soon as he stepped through the door, a warm scene greeted him.

There stood a dad with his children who were laughing while their mom checked out with their snacks. All of them were so happy with each other. Even the woman at the register was smiling because of them. Logan could hear their conversation, and it was all so hopeful. The children were talking excitedly about what they wanted to eat for the holiday, and which cousins they would see. Their father was happily listening to them, and prompting them to talk more about what they wanted to do.

It was so beautiful to watch that he was a little sad that they had left afterwards. He set his pack of beer and chips on the counter, but let his mind wander. Logan had long since given up on the concept of having a family himself, even though he would like one. With his mutation, it was probably not possible. He very well could outlive his own children, or whoever was their mother, and that was not a fun thought for him to have.

Getting the case of beer and food onto the bike took a bit of maneuvering, but the mutant made it happen. Instead of going back to the school though, he just continued down the road now that he was refueled in more ways than one. What was once a peaceful drive meant to clear his head and heart, had quickly turned to quiet for him.

All he could think of now was being home with his girlfriend for Thanksgiving. During the school year, he loved watching her interact with the younger children. It always stirred something in him that he kept dampening down whenever it sprung up. This was part of the reason that he was so reluctant to spend holidays with her.

She always made sure that the kids who had no family to go home to were taken care of; unfortunately, that was a majority of the students at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. But she never made them miss out on fun festive activities. He knew that leading up to the big day, her lesson plans always took some time to make decorations. The younger kids had made hand turkeys, while the older ones used the changing leaves outside to make their own collages or scrapbooks.

That was just how she was. Even though her mutation caused destruction, her spirit repaired others. There was nothing that she was not willing to do if it meant making others happy. It often caused some insecurity to sprout in Logan’s chest. Because, how was someone so kind, so caring, so lovely, so precious, dating someone like him? A mutant who tried to find solace in the bottom of a bottle, and kept killing bottles to find it. A mutant who got into fights whenever he felt like it, and kept true to his lone wolf personality.

The motel that evening did not provide the comfort he was looking for. Usually, there was a little ease associated with it. A nice, calm, stable environment for him away from the hustle and bustle that he knew was overtaking the school at this very moment. As Logan cracked open his first beer, he thought about how shut down she was when he drove away. His pride would not allow him to admit that he was wrong, and frankly, up until this point, he had not believe that he was wrong. And yet, there was just a little something in his chest that tugged on his heart as he went to sleep that made him believe other wise.

After Logan had left, she went back into the mansion with a frown etched deep onto her face. But there was little time to dwell on the fact that her boyfriend was leaving once again. There was so much to do for the big meal tomorrow. Cooking for an entire school was an arduous task, but one that her, and the other adults, took on gratefully.

Her mind was kept free from thoughts that would damper her mood all through the rest of the day. So many people had joined together that year to make their feast. Different dietary restrictions, different cultures, and different preferences had made for one interesting prepping day. She did make sure to include a couple turkeys on the table that had to be prepped, but there was just so much variety.

However, sleep continued to evade her that night. The blame was partially on the lack of her space heater lover not providing adequate warmth for her. During the colder months, Logan’s ability to run warm was her favorite thing about him. He was just a big, hairy, perfectly warmed teddy bear to latch onto in the middle of the night.

But most of the blame was on the fact that she would, once again, be alone on the holidays. Sure, she had her friends and the kids, but that was not the same as having her Wolverine. He would be doing whatever he was doing for the next two days, before coming back like nothing had happened.

And that was how she found herself in the kitchen, stress baking, at four o’clock in the morning. Her ever so popular iced lemon cookies were on the menu. It was a process that she had done so much, that she did not need to think about what she was doing. She knew that these would be going like hot cakes tomorrow, or rather today if someone wanted to be technical. So she did not worry about making too many; there would never be enough.

Five am came far faster than she ever thought. There were a few of the older people that had begun trickling in, and here she was. Still baking. Charles got his morning tea before retreating into his office. Scott made his and Jean’s cup of coffee and left to go to their room. Storm, however, stayed. She made both of them a cup of coffee before starting on food preparations while the other woman finished off her baking.

They snacked on cookies and remnants of food for breakfast while the rest of the school woke up. Remy and Rogue both came down to share a plate of eggs and toast in the dinning room, aiming just to stay out of the way for now. However, as soon as they were done, they were put to work warming up side dishes that had been prepped the day before to save on time.

In a few hours, the adults had the perfect Thanksgiving meal on the tables. Everything was served buffet style, with additional chairs and tables inhabiting the dinning and game room. Every one fixed themselves a plate with a little bit of everything they wanted, and sat down to enjoy a nice time together. But she just watched from her little corner.

Sure, she had a plate of food, but it did not seem too appealing right now. Right now, she was just enjoying watching everyone enjoy themselves. She saw Scott and Jean laughing, feeding each other bites from their plates, and chatting with the youngsters they had come to take in as their own. It made her a bit bitter on what was supposed to be a day of thanks. Pushing around a bit of Rogue’s green bean casserole, she did not know what she was expecting when someone cleared their throat behind her.

Logan was the last person she expected to see, though.

He stood a bit awkwardly. His hands were shoved deep into the front pockets of his jeans, right next to the big belt buckle he loved wearing. The flannel covering his arms and chest was the one that she had gotten him as a belated Christmas present last year. Not because she forgot to give it to him on Christmas, but rather because he was not there for it. Logan cleared his throat again before trying to speak.

“Mind helping me fix a plate, darling?” Her shock was recovered quickly as she stood, leaving behind her own plate. She talked him through each dish, and helped load up his plate with things that he may not have understood, but would definitely enjoy eating. There was a little something that was nagging her as they went to go sit down again.

“What are you doing back so soon?”

For once, Logan did not have what seemed like an appropriate response. He never bothered with giving a good answer before because he never cared who took offense to what he was saying. Now, he was terrified to upset his girlfriend even more.

“I just figured I would give this thing a try.” Logan tried to keep his eyes to his food, and shoveled a bit in before he could speak more.

“Well,” she began putting together her own first bite, “thank you for humoring me.”

“Don’t get used to it, darling.”

Anyone who did not know Logan would assume that he was being serious. But she knew better. That twinkle in his eye let her know that she just might turn his cynical heart around yet.

#rebelliousstories #writing #xmen imagine #x men 97 #x men comics #x men imagine #x men #x men movies #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan wolverine #wolverine #wolverine imagine #wolverine x reader #deadpool and wolverine

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ghostgirl-22 · 2 days ago

Note

Hi! <3 You’re like my favorite writer for Artrick! I swear you characterize them perfectlyyy

I keep thinking about the idea of Art and Patrick going on a date when he’s at Stanford. Like obviously Art wouldn’t admit it’s a date, but I imagine it’s after Art reluctantly admits that he wants to hang with Patrick alone when he comes to visit and that he’s a bit jealous of Tashi. So they basically have an unofficial date night. How do you think this would go, and how would Art go about initiating something physical between them because he’s obviously not gay right?

Okay but you’re actually such an amazingly talented writer and I love your stuff so much! Thanks so much for this request I honestly don’t think I did this ask justice and I’m sorry it was so long but I hope this attempt brings you some amusement <3

CW: 18+ !NSFW! 3.8kish words

—-

It’s not that Art is jealous. He’s not jealous. He’s not. But up until now Patrick’s always called him and stopped by on his little trips to Stanford. It’s not like he expects Patrick to stay long, he knows he’s not the main event… but he at least expects him to come by.

So when Patrick shows up at his door three days later, asking if he can stay in Art’s room, Art tries his best not to express his irritation that he hasn’t once come by his room till now. And it really stings because Art knows the only reason he’s here now is because of the limit on how many days he can consecutively “visit” her dorm.

“You’re saving me man,” Patrick says, patting his arm as he drops his duffle on Art’s designated chair full of stuff.

Art shrugs. “Yeah well. Happy to be an afterthought.” He mumbles.

Patrick raises his eyebrows and then gives him a crooked smile. “You are never an afterthought.”

“It’s fine,” Art says, already embarrassed that he brought it up. “You’re dating Tashi Duncan. It’s totally understandable dude.” He tries to sound nonchalant, hopeful that it’s how he comes across. He feels like he spends so much time these days swallowing down on feelings. Feelings he can’t name, feelings he doesn’t even really understand. None of them jealousy. He’s really not jealous.

He does often wonder what they do alone. He thinks about what they do in bed since the most he really knows is that they’re fucking. He knows Patrick calls her all the time because he doesn’t really call Art that much anymore. They used to sit on the phone for hours, barely talking or talking too much, sometimes till late in the night. The same way they did when they were sharing a room in high school. But gradually it became, Patrick leaving the call earlier and earlier. To Patrick not really calling that often at all.

“You know, you can help me with something actually,” Patrick says, flopping onto Arts bed.

“What?”

“I’m taking her on a date tonight, we’re going to get dinner and see a movie.”

“Oh,” Art says. “What movie?”

“The new Saw movie. What number are they on now? 11?” Patrick laughs.

“Oh I didn’t know she’d like something like that,” Art says carefully.

”Yeah well, she saw the first one and she said liked it. She never got around to the others. I asked her if she’d be scared to see it but she said even if she was… she wouldn’t mind being scared if I was there. Isn’t that kinda… hot?”

Art shrugs again, swallowing it down.

”Sorry, is this hard to hear?” Patrick asks, patting his cheek.

“Fuck off,” Art mutters. “I’m just… I’m thinking about my game on Sunday. I’m not really worried about your relationship actually.” He lies.

“Good cause I was just gonna ask for your advice on what to wear. She tends to dress up for this kinda thing and I don’t want her to be annoyed if I show up in shorts and a t-shirt again.”

“You want me to help you pick out an outfit?”

“Yeah… you’re always put together,” Patrick says.

“All your clothes are tailored. Just pick something.” Art says, dryly.

“Okay but I want to wear something comfortable. Not something that makes me look like I’m about to donate a hefty sum at some stuffy fundraiser.”

Art sighs, “fine what’d you bring? Lay it out.”

Patrick empties his duffle on the bed, everything he has that isn’t training gear, playing gear and t-shirts is all wrinkled but Art has an iron. He helps Patrick pick something out. He’s still irritated, but he thinks he covers it well.

He’s actually stunned by how happy it makes him when Tashi calls and says she has to cancel. She does kids tennis lessons for extra spending money and a client wanted her help to prep for a game in the early morning.

Patrick’s talking to her, his tone understanding making her feel better about canceling last minute and promising to see the movie another time. He’s such a good boyfriend. It’s so weird that he’s not fucked it up by now. Art can’t remember Patrick ever dating anyone this long before.

Art’s sitting on his bed, back up against the wall, kicking his feet over the edge, listening to him.

“Sorry man, you’re stuck with me all night,” Patrick says after he hangs up. He knees the bed and sinks into it, settling down and leaning close to Art, he picks up his half ironed slacks and frowns.

“Mm… why don’t we go out?” Art suggests.

Patrick laughs and so does Art, feeling himself beginning to flush.

“Or… I mean… we could just hang out. Watch Hell’s Kitchen or something,” Art says quickly. He looks up when Patrick doesn't reply and Patrick is staring at him, a peculiar look on his face.

“Fuck it, let’s go out.” Patrick smirks. “You can be my date.”

“Yeah? Why not?” Art smiles. “I mean who says two friends can’t go out for dinner and a movie.”

Patrick laughs a bit, his expression flitting quickly between amusement and something Art can’t recognize. “Mm right. Platonic date night. Here we come. You have something nice right?”

”Yeah,” Art says. “I can wear that one shirt I wore to the awards dinner last year.”

“Oh yeah, you look so hot in blue, wear that,” Patrick teases.

“Shut up,” Art smirks, ignoring the weird feeling that blossoms in his chest after Patrick calls him hot.

They get dressed. Patrick’s clothes fit him so well. He’s in an outfit that might read as casual (fitted t-shirt, slacks, and a blazer) if not for the simple elegance of it all being quietly wealthy.

He’s also got a great body and anything fitted on him is going to bring that out. Art doesn’t think about his body often or anything like that, it’s just something he notices. The sky is blue, water is wet and Patrick Zweig has a great body. It just is.

They go to the movies first. “I prefer that when I go out on a date, so we have something to talk about over dinner or drinks,” Patrick explains as he drives them over to the theater in his jeep. “You know in case the date is boring. Not that that’s ever the case with Tashi. Actually, you know what’s crazy? I feel like she’s as easy for me to talk to as you are.”

“Hm,” Art says, swallowing down on something bitter in his throat. “Well I think you should try to find a balance. Talk to other people. You don’t want to scare her away by only ever talking to her.”

“Oh is that what you think?” Patrick says, smirking. “I don’t only talk to her actually. I’ve just got a lot of pressure on me. The only time I get a chance to rest I’m so exhausted— I got one phone call in me and so you know…”

“Oh,” Art says. “Well yeah I guess that makes sense.”

“Are you seeing anyone?” Patrick asks.

“Mm, I mean… I think I might be interested in this girl on the team. She’s really good.” Art lies. He’s not really interested in anyone and he’s probably wasting his time, thinking more about Patrick and Tashi than he spends thinking about his own social life. He wants her so bad unfortunately every other girl he meets just pales in comparison.

—-

They’re actually on the 4th Saw movie, and it’s as stupid as Art might have expected. They laugh about it over dinner at Applebees. Patrick’s got this pretty realistic looking fake id so he orders a drink and they split it when the waitress isn’t looking. Not that she cares, she’s also a Stanford student. She’s been to a few tennis games to watch Tashi play but she knows Art is the number one singles player on the men’s team.

“You’re really good,” she smiles at him and he can feel his skin flushing as Patrick grins at him from across the table.

”Thanks uh— but Patrick actually plays professionally.” Art says.

“That’s so cool,” she says, she smiles at Patrick and then looks back at Art. “I would love to learn to just hit the ball over the net.” She laughs.

”He can teach you that easy,” Patrick says. Art kicks him under the table and he just grins wider.

“Can you really?” The waitress asks, flipping her pretty blonde hair over her shoulder.

“Yeah I mean… whenever,” Art says, awkwardly.

“Cool, I’ll be back. You guys want anything else?”

Patrick gives Art a meaningful look and then orders a second drink.

“When were you gonna tell me you got number one singles?” Patrick asks, watching her as she walks away.

“I figured Tashi told you,” Art says.

“Yeah but you should have told me,” Patrick says. “She’s hot right?” He adds, gesturing back towards the waitress.

“I mean… I can tell her you think she’s hot,” Art says. “I don’t think she believes you’re actually dating Tashi anyway.”

Patrick laughs, “God you’re such a dick. I meant for you. That would be a fun night.”

“I guess,” Art says, rubbing his palms on his lap. It’s all he has to say for Patrick to keep teasing him throughout the rest of the night, getting her to come back over and flirt with Art. He orders more and more drinks which she happily brings over.

In spite of the teasing, it’s actually really fun. Of course Art has been to movies with Patrick before, even gone out to dinner with him and their friends or family before, but this feels different. Art can’t figure out why… maybe because he gets to be in Tashi’s place. Maybe because it feels like old times.

They probably spend two and half hours in Applebees talking about the movie, high school, tennis, their parents, video games, girls and anything else that pops into their heads. They only leave because its 12 am and the restaurant’s closing. By then they’ve split a total of six cocktails and Art is feeling so tipsy.

“How much is it?” He asks when the waitress brings the bill.

“I’ll take care of it,” Patrick says.

“Dude it’s okay we can split,” Art says.

“No relax, it’s our platonic date night, right?” Patrick pulls out his credit card. “I can give you this though.”

He hands Art the non singable copy of the receipt and on the bottom the waitress left a note: For whenever you decide to teach me how to serve, Jenny. Followed by her phone number and a heart.

“She drew a heart and everything,” Patrick teases.

”It’s for you,” Art says, shyly.

“It’s so clearly for you, Stanford boy,” Patrick smirks.

“We probably have to take a cab home,” Art hiccups. Changing the subject. He does slip the receipt into his jeans pocket though.

“Oh yeah,” Patrick says. “You’re so responsible by the way. I love that about you.”

Art snorts a laugh and Patrick starts laughing too. Patrick leaves a big tip and they call a cab. Art promises to come back with him to pick up his jeep in the morning and they share a cigarette while waiting for the cab. When it arrives they hop in the backseat for the 25 minute ride back to campus.

Art’s feeling sleepy, the combination of food, alcohol and a long car ride is lethal for him. He closes his eyes, head slipping to settle on Patrick’s shoulder. Distantly, he feels Patrick rest a hand on his thigh and he opens his eyes, suddenly wide awake. It should be a nothing feeling but Art goes rigid, he feels it all up and down his spine and even worse, his cock starts to wake up.

“Did you have fun?” Patrick asks, quietly.

“Yeah,” Art says, he stares at the meter on the cab. He feels so dizzy and confused as Patrick’s fingers play a light pitter patter along his thigh.

“I’m sorry I’m not… free all the time. Like in high school, you know?” His voice is soft, Art can almost feel the vibration of it from where he’s leaning. He can feel Patrick’s breath on his cheek. It makes no sense the way his body is reacting. Maybe he’s drunker than he thought.

“Uh,” Art sits up. “Don’t worry about it. We’re both um— busy.”

“I know,” Patrick says, he’s still playing the pattern on Art’s thigh. “But I feel like I’ve been neglecting you.”

Art feels anxious, he looks up front, he can see the driver glancing back at them in the rear view. “Look… obviously your girlfriend comes first. We can do bro stuff whenever…” Art says as he gently eases Patrick’s hand off his thigh even though it feels nice. His heart is racing like he’s running some kind of marathon he doesn’t know why but it’s probably just the drinks. All the alcohol making his head all fuzzy.

“Yeah,” Patrick sighs. “Bro stuff.” He rests his head against the back of the seat and they’re mostly quiet for the rest of the ride. Arts mind is racing. All he can think about is how close they are but how much it feels like something is slipping away.

The halls are mostly empty as they get back to the dorm. There’s a few students still up. A couple talking softly to each other. One girl on the floor with her headphones plugged in watching something on her laptop. Some guy exits his room, talking on his cellphone as he breezes past them.

“You think I can sneak back to her room or no?” Patrick asks, one arm resting on the door frame as Art leans in to unlock his room.

Art feels his heart still beating oddly fast, probably because Patrick is right behind him. He’s never been able to manage personal space as long as they’ve been friends but right now Art is just so… aware of him. “You can stay here. It’s just one night. I’ll even let you have the bed all to yourself.” Art says.

“It’d be two nights. I leave on Sunday.”

“Okay, two nights then,” Art pushes open the door, breaking the closeness. It feels like a temporary bit of relief.

Patrick follows him in and slips off his shoes. “That’s the one thing I hate about dressing up. Fucking boat shoes.”

Art smiles. “I’m really drunk I think.” He says, kicking off his own shoes.

“Yeah?” Patrick smirks.

“Yeah, I don’t know how I’m gonna make it to practice tomorrow.”

“Isn’t it in the afternoon?” Patrick pulls off his jacket and then his t-shirt. He digs through his duffle for something to put on.

“Yeah but still.” Art realizes then he’s been watching Patrick undress, like he hasn’t seen him butt naked before. He shakes his head and goes to change into his own night clothes.

“Don’t be mad,” Patrick says as Art gets his jeans off.

“What?”

“I think I need a session, maybe I found that waitress hotter than I realized,” he’s in his boxers holding himself. His eyes fall over Art’s body.

Art looks down and swallows. He’s seen Patrick erect before… even touched it… But they were a lot younger last time. They’d actually grown out of doing it in front of each other a long time ago.

But ever since Patrick brought it up that night… ever since they kissed… Art’s mind would occasionally wander to what it might be like to see it again. And now there it was… just… right in front of him. Patrick holding it idly like it’s not ridiculous to be carrying all of that around. Art’s fingers twitch, his mouth is suddenly too wet and he swallows again. The worst part… he’s getting hard.

Patrick sighs. “I’ll go in the bathroom.”

“Um…” Art can hear his heartbeat in his ears, he sits on his bed just because his knees are shaky. “I thought… I think she’s hot too.”

Patrick is still for a moment watching him, before he smiles and approaches Art. “Right? I think it was the skirt. I mean those fucking legs.”

Art nods. He reaches for Patrick. His head is all fuzzy, his ears are ringing and Patrick straddles him on the bed. Art touches it through his boxers. It’s heavy and really, really full.

Patrick eases his fingers into Art’s hair. “And she’s blonde….I think I like blondes more than I should.”

Art grips him properly. It’s not just lengthy, it’s thick. The only thing he can think about is what it might feel like in— in— just in.

He rubs it up and down, like it’s his own. He’s never done anything like this before so he’s shocked when Patrick reacts, “Fuck,” he gasps, this quiet sound that makes Art shiver. Art grabs at the front of his boxers and eases them down, revealing a shock of dark hair and Patrick’s cock as it bobs forward. Circumcised, all pink, and all so real. So much bigger than the last time Art saw it like this.

He leans over and licks at the shaft.

“Whoa,” Patrick breathes and then he chuckles.

“I uh—‘m sorry,” Art looks up at him, anxious that maybe this is too much, too far. That he did something wrong.

“God Art. You’re so fucking…” Patrick breathes and settles down on Art’s lap. He takes Art’s face in his hands and kisses him. Art breathes in as their lips touch. It almost feels the way it felt that night. Something warm, almost on fire. Their chemistry overwhelming.

God, is he into this? Is he into Patrick? He thought it was all because of Tashi but this still feels good even when she’s not watching. And right now Art knows he wants to feel more of Patrick’s tongue. He wants to lick his cock again. His mouth hasn’t really stopped feeling wet, but the kiss feels good in spite of it…maybe because of it. He finds himself exploring every inch of Patrick’s mouth. His heart is still racing. He knows Patrick can feel how hard he is. The way he feels Patrick poking against his stomach. He grips it and gets excited when Patrick hums a pretty little moan.

Patrick eases them out of the kiss and looks at Art, fingers tangled in his hair. His cheeks are all flushed and rosey. His freckles are so vivid up close. He’s actually incredible. “You want to taste it again?” He asks, brushing up against Art’s lips.

“Mmhm,” Art nods.

Patrick takes a deep breath and he actually stands up in front of Art, so his cock is just right in front of Arts face. Art stares at him and nibbles on his thumb. Patrick’s got freckles on his tummy, just a couple spattered here and there. Art wants to lick those too.

He sits up and grips Patrick’s cock again. It feels so warm he must run at a thousand degrees. Art licks at him. He can see the way Patrick’s muscles tense. Hear his little breaths. Art starts licking more. Up and down, all over the length of him. He likes how it feels along his tongue. The heat of it, how soft and solid it is at the same time. He likes the taste and the smell, salty and heady. He sees the pearls leaking from the tip and tastes that. He really likes how it tastes so he sucks on the tip a little more. And it’s all punctuated by the way its affecting Patrick.

“Mm, fuck sweetheart, I know you want to explore but this feels insane.” Patrick breathes. “You’re gonna mess around and make me shove it in your mouth.”

Art feels warm at the way he says sweetheart. And the thought that Patrick might lose control over him.

He opens up and takes in more.

“Fuuckk,” Patrick sighs like he’s sinking into a warm bath. Art closes his eyes and runs his tongue over the length. He’s almost sure he can taste Patrick’s heart beating through it. It feels incredible and Patrick starts moaning for him which makes Art begin to lose himself in it. It’s too big to get it all inside at once but he tries to take a little more. His mouth is so wet that when he pulls back spit drips onto his thighs. He licks and then takes it in again, more this time.

“Oh shit,” Patrick gasps. He starts moving his hips like he can’t control himself and Art needs to grab on to keep him from shoving it too deep. But he likes the sliding feeling as it moves back and forth over his tongue. His own cock is aching. He feels like he might start pushing up against the air too. It’s so hot how he’s the one doing this to Patrick. It’s all him. His mouth. His tongue.

“Can you look at me?” Patrick gasps.

Art hums and looks up as it’s sliding out of his mouth, he takes a small breath before taking it back in again but his mouth starts filling immediately. Art feels it hot and thick slipping down his throat and he starts coughing. Which makes it start spilling everywhere, dripping off his lips and Patrick’s still coming so Art licks around the tip to try and taste it.

“No… wait, fuck, fuck… that’s too sensitive just… relax,” Patrick gasps, breathlessly. He pulls his shorts back up and stumbles to sit on the bed next to him. He rubs his thumb over Art’s messy lips, Art licks at it and Patrick smiles letting him suck it for a minute before pulling it away and sucking it into own mouth. “Come here.” He rubs his thighs.

Art stares at him for a minute and then moves to straddle him. “Sit,” Patrick says, softly.

Art settles on his lap.

“Have you ever done that before?” Patrick asks, rubbing him over his boxers.

“No, is it okay?” Art asks, his voice a little hoarse.

“So fucking okay,” Patrick says and he starts kissing him immediately. It feels so satisfying, rubbing his tongue along Patricks after having a mouth full of him. He feels Patrick’s fingers ease into his boxers, gripping his cock where Patrick starts jerking him off properly. That combined with the stimulation from the kissing makes Art finish embarrassingly quickly all over Patrick’s fingers and in his shorts.

“Mm I need another cigarette,” Patrick laughs, licking his fingers and gazing at Art.

Art swallows hard, mildly panicked now that he’s back in his right mind. He climbs off of Patrick’s lap.

“What?” Patrick asks. ”And don’t say sorry.”

Art bites his tongue and takes a deep breath. “I think I drank too much.”

Patrick grins. “I don’t know. You kinda spilled some of it,” he gestures to Art’s lap, a bit of pearly liquid settled there.

“That’s not funny,” Art says, biting down on a smile.

“Oh it’s really funny.” Patrick says, getting to his feet.

“Where are you going?” Art asks. Strangely enough he just kinda wants to be near him.

“I’m gonna wash my hands,” he says. “And clean up a bit.”

Art bites his lip.

“You want to come?”

Art nods and gets to his feet. “I’ll just brush my teeth and um… change my…” he gestures vauguely.

Patrick smirks and beckons for Art to lead the way. “So,” Patrick says. “Where do you wanna go tomorrow night?”

#challengers #challengers 2024 #art donaldson #patrick zweig #tashi duncan #challengers fic #challengers smut #art x patrick #artrick

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literaryvein-reblogs · 4 hours ago

Text

Writing Notes: Compelling Characters

Characters & Goals

“Every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water.” –Kurt Vonnegut

Characters should almost always have clear goals, even if these goals are not immediately made obvious to the reader.

Without goals, characters lack motivation—that is, they have little reason to do anything interesting.

For this reason, many writers connect the main character's goals to the main conflict in the story. This generally means that the main obstacle to those goals plays a key role in the plot as well (for instance, in the form of a villain).

Often, the main character is most interesting and when confronting his own shortcomings in pursuit of his goals.

There are a few ways to construct this character-plot connection:

CHARACTER-FIRST APPROACH

Constructs a story’s plot for a character that already exists.

It asks a writer to build a character that they find interesting and then assemble the plot around them.

Example: A character who is struggling to overcome a phobia might, as a plot element, come into contact with the thing she fears. Success in this instance would mean that she doesn’t let the fear overcome her.

PLOT-FIRST APPROACH

Starts by defining the major conflicts the writer wants to include in a piece of fiction and then builds a character who will be motivated by those conflicts.

Example: A writer could decide to explore the effect of a catastrophic storm on a city before writing a main character. A character that would feel motivated by this conflict would be one with a connection to the city or to someone living in the city. Therefore, the son of someone who went missing in the storm would likely be a good focal character for this story.

Small Goals & Big Goals

Though it’s important for characters to have at least one big goal, it can be boring for the reader if a character is totally preoccupied with a single motivation.

Strong characters generally have two or more goals of varying sizes that they might confront separately or at the same time.

The reader excitedly anticipates your character's success or failure in achieving their goals.

Believability

Another factor that can contribute to a successful character is an element called “verisimilitude,” also called “believability.”

When writers talk about believability, they talk about whether the constituent parts of a character make sense and feel cohesive.

Example: We might expect a character who gets paid minimum wage to struggle to pay her bills, so if we see her driving an expensive car or spending several hundred dollars on a meal at a fancy restaurant, we would question these details.

There are, of course, stories in which these situations could exist, but the reader would need to know what allowed them to happen (inheritance from a late relative, perhaps, or an irresponsible approach to personal debt).

Suspension of Disbelief

Stories that take place outside of a realistic modern setting will generally require some extra work on the part of the writer to make them believable.

This is because of an idea called “suspension of disbelief.”

This refers to the tendency of readers to challenge details of a story that seem out-of-place, but not to question those details if they are presented with enough contextual justification.

Example: A story contains people who can fly with human-size wings. The reader would need to learn early on that this is a normal event that occurs in the story world. A reader who unexpectedly encounters flying humans three-fourths of the way into a short story could easily be baffled by this development, and might also consider it a cheap cop-out if it's used to resolve a plot conflict.

Adding Physical Detail

In addition to planning your characters thoughtfully, you must also sketch them coherently on the page.

Careful selection of physical and environmental details will make some of your character’s traits visible to your reader without you having to tell them outright what you mean. Examples:

A character who is disorganized might have wrinkled clothing or might consistently arrive late to appointments.

An introverted character might bring a book or notebook everywhere they go and might also stay out of crowded spaces (or feel uncomfortable in those spaces).

Symbolic Meanings

Be aware of the other meanings that a detail can bring into a piece.

A physical detail, especially one that appears multiple times within a work, might also develop symbolic meanings in addition to its literal meaning.

Writing Exercise

In a short vignette, and using only physical details (e.g., characters' clothing, appearance, or body language), make it clear to a reader that a character is experiencing one of the following conditions: worry, hunger, grief, joy, confusion, lack of sleep, anxiety, homesickness.

The word you chose should not appear in your vignette, nor should any synonyms.

Adding Personality

Broadly, “personality” refers to the collection of beliefs, thought patterns, and other mental qualities that dictate a character’s actions.

A personality trait could be the character’s bubbly disposition, their self-deprecating humor, or the fact that they’re always nervous.

When constructing a character, it’s important to think about how she would react in a number of situations.

Here are some questions to help you discover your character’s personality traits:

Is he fond of attention, or does he avoid it?

Is she curious to learn more about a topic/location/person, or does she keep to herself?

How big of a role does fear play in his day-to-day activities?

How does this character react if things don’t go the way she wants them to?

Does he think that he’s more intelligent/less intelligent than others around him?

Does she think she’s average? How would she define “average?”

How does he feel about making decisions?

Does she make decisions quickly or slowly?

Does he tend to regret decisions they’ve made?

It’s helpful to connect these traits to elements from the character’s life or past.

Example: A character who grew up with a controlling parent might have difficulty making decisions once they start living on their own.

Personality traits might also overlap with physical traits.

Example: Talking too loudly or too softly or interrupting others.

It’s also important to make sure that your characters aren’t good at everything they come across.

Doing so will reduce your story’s believability because—let’s face it—no one is good at everything.

To this end, you should allow your characters to fail at something, whether that something is huge or inconsequential.

Writing Exercise

In a short vignette, deliver some news to your character.

The news can be good or bad.

It can affect just the character, or the entire world population, or any number of people in between.

How does this character react?

Who do they tell, if anyone?

How do they interact with the space they’re in (e.g. punch a wall, hug a stranger)?

Try this exercise several times with the same character but different contexts (e.g., the character receiving the news alone versus receiving it in a public place) to see how they react under different circumstances.

CAUTION: Using Fictionalized Versions of Real People

It’s common for writers to borrow details from real life—the shape of a stranger’s chin, a classmate’s clicking of their pen during a quiet exam, or the restaurant server’s shrill laugh, to give just a few examples—but a writer should be wary of recreating an entire person on the page.

There are legal reasons not to do this, of course, but there is also the danger that a story filled with too many real-life people and events will be flat and boring.

Fiction should generally be a healthy mix of the ordinary and extraordinary.

If the mix is skewed too far in one direction, the reader can find the piece too unbelievable or too boring.

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ Writing Worksheet: Conflict Lists: 170 Character Quirks ⚜ +600 Personality Traits ⚜ 100 Sensory Words

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flaetsbnort · 2 days ago

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It's a very common and very damaging mistake to think that the difference between "narrativist" RPGs and "simulationist" RPGs is that only the former has a story; or that the people playing the latter don't care about story. Dungeon Gal has been fighting bravely on this front for a very long time.

The difference, in my eyes, is one of focus. When you're playing a story-centric RPG, all the mechanics exist first and foremost to tell a story. And, in order to make this story-creation process simpler and easier and natural, it uses building blocks from well-worn genre clichés to achieve that. So story-centric RPGs aren't more likely to create a story, because we always create stories from stuff that happens to us, and even more so from play; they're not even more likely to create better stories. Rather, it's just easier to create stories, and to make sure that these stories follow a desired theme and vibe.

I really like that one way to categorize RPGs that calls this axis as simulationist X emulationist. I know that the "simulationist" term comes with bad baggage from the GNS days, but I think it's a useful descriptor for systems that care more about the physical properties of objects (how strong is your punch? how dextrous is your lockpicking? how much power does your spell call forth?). But I think using the term "emulationist" for narrative or story-centric RPGs is a good way to stress that the main difference about them is that they have tools to create a story along a pre-defined thematic axis, that is, their mechanics exist to emulate a kind of existing media; it's not that they have tools to create a story at all.

One example I can think of about this difference is character death. Most simulationist RPGs don't care about it much. It's entirely possible to create a character then die in two unlucky hits fighting a giant rat in the sewers. Conversely, in most emulationist RPGs, character death is difficult to come by. Apocalypse World is known to be a particularly cruel RPG, but look at its mechanics. It outright says that most (unarmored) NPCs die after taking 4 or 5 harm, but PC's harm clock has eight segments. Sure, a PC that takes 5 harm is actively dying - but an NPC in the same situation is dead and gone. And even if a PC is dying, there are four scars you can take to keep them in the game for longer. Players can of course accept their character's death earlier, but they don't have to.

Why does this happen? That's because, in most stories, you wouldn't kill a main character (and all player characters are main characters) in the first combat unless you were going for some sort of subversion, so there are many tools to make sure that bad rolls only change the direction of the story and to make sure that every player character gets to have at least some semblance of an arc. Simulationist RPGs don't care because they know that a pompous knight that shows up talking big about their quests and then dying to a sewer rat is hilarious and makes for a great story. And it's not that emulationist RPGs don't see it - it's that they don't want a story that doesn't fit the vibe their going for.

The best metaphor for me is an offroad car. If you care a lot about driving offroad, you'll get an offroad car, and it'll do the best job at it. But you buy a car that's not specially made for offroad, that doesn't mean you'll never be able to drive it out of the asphalt. It just means you'll have a bit of a harder time to do it. But you'll eventually get to the same destination just the same.

What are some examples of mechanics in games that advance the story?

I mean very few mechanics in TTRPGs don't advance the story. So, to provide few examples:

Attack and damage rolls (advance the plotline of "how this guy got fucking killed")

Skill checks (advance the plotline of "how that one asshole did a thing and succeeded/failed"

Gaining experience/other character advancement currency (advance the plotline of "how the character learned from their experiences and learned to shoot lighting")

Random encounter checks (advance the plotline of "look at all this fucking bullshit these idiots ran into while traveling from point A to point B")

Note: I've specifically chosen D&D centric examples because while D&D is the furthest thing from whatever the fuck "narrativist" is supposed to mean, simply by virtue of being a tabletop RPG the creation of an emergent narrative is an inevitable consequence, so if you're wont to look at TTRPGs in terms of "stories" technically all those things do advance the story.

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ssentimentals · 2 days ago

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Heyyy I had asked for 13 and 15 and honestly anyone would be fine but joshua got me feeling some type way these days.... Thank you cutieeee ❤️ ❤️

heyyy, sure-sure! thank you for requesting! 💜 hopefully you will like it!

suggestive prompt: 'ngl, that turned me on.' - 'oh, really?'

dating with joshua comes with many perks. he is, in general, the best boyfriend you could've ever asked for, but your favorite thing about him is how he goes out of his way to get involved into something that you like even if he has no interest in it. he's the sweetest and you proclaim this loudly, as he mixes eggs and milk in one bowl, wanting to help you bake the most delicious cinnamon buns ever.

'it's nothing, love,' he smiles shyly. 'if it matters to you to give our guests home cooked cinnamon buns then it matters to me too.'

you coo, leaning closer to give him a kiss. 'thanks, babe. now mix it all well and add sugar.'

joshua is always diligent and you're not surprised with how thorough he is, kneading the dough like his life depends on it. what you are surprised with is how much the whole scene turns you on. joshua is wearing a slim fit t-shirt that hugs his whole frame nicely beneath the apron and his biceps and veins grab your attention as he works the dough in the bowl first, then he places it on the table. joshua does the smacking thing twice and you have to look away, embarrassed at how quickly your thoughts go south at such an innocent gesture. joshua notices your rosy cheeks, of course. 'what is it, love?'

your inability to lie really makes your life so hard at times. 'not gonna lie, that turned me on,' you blurt, trying to pass it as a joke.

joshua, the fucker, doesn't even look confused. instead he smiles, stepping closer to you. 'oh really?' he questions, trapping you between his body and the kitchen counter. 'you liked that little show i put on for you?'

you gasp, hitting his chest. 'you- that was on purpose? whole flexing thing?!'

joshua chuckles and nods. 'for who do i go to the gym? it's my main aim to have my girlfriend salivating of my arms,' he half-jokes, grinning at your offended expression. 'no, don't pout, my love. you enjoyed the show, right?'

you know where this is going before he leans in and starts kissing up your neck. 'we have two hours before the guests,' you remind him. 'don't start.'

'two hours are more than enough for us,' he mumbles, nibbling at your skin teasingly. he grabs your hands and starts pulling you with him, out of the kitchen. 'dough is ready anyways, we should leave it for an hour at least.'

'but-' joshua shushes with you a kiss. it's an effective way to shut you up, you can give him that.

'can't leave my girlfriend all turned on, can i?' joshua winks.

you let go, give in. 'that would be very ungentlemanly of you,' you agree, making him smile.

after all, two hours are enough for you two.

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

#seventeen imagine #seventeen fluff #seventeen reaction #seventeen x reader #seventeen joshua #seventeen joshua imagine #hong jisoo #svt joshua hong #svt joshua x reader #joshua hong #seventeen joshua hong #svt x reader #seventeen prompt #joshua imagine

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weepingchronicles · 1 day ago

Text

cw: manipulation, nonconsensual kissing, yandere behavior, controlling behavior.

❝yandere!royal x gn!servant reader❞

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ Amos was the youngest ruler in the entire nation, becoming King at the ripe age of eighteen. He had to grow very fast in order to rule his country, it wasn't often he had time to himself.

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ In comes you, you were a family friend of his parents and he had known you since he was small, albeit not exceptionally well. You were a child of noble parents and although you hadn't realized it, you were being groomed to become Amos' personal "assistant."

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ You had known everything about him, memorized to a tee. His likes, dislikes, heritage, personality. You had known everything about him and he knew nothing about you.

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ He always found you a bit unsettling so when you were officially introduced as his trusty assistant he was not surprised but a bit annoyed. He couldn't argue about it though, he had a kingdom to run and deep down knew you were the perfect fit. Whether he found you creepy or not wasn't his main concern.

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ Months had quickly passed sooner than he imagined. Amos ended up warming up to you a lot more than he had anticipated, you always seemed to know when to step in. When he needed you to stitch or fix a button on his shirt, get him coffee when he was spending late nights in his office, or when particular nobles were agitating him you stepped in with an excuse to get him away from it all. In fact. . he couldn't even think of a time when you weren't there, if you ever did something wrong he could not think of an example.

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ There was some weird moments. Like when he found your lights still lit in the late hours of the night, or when he was caught red-handed sneaking into your quarters when you were out. He had found an array of different knives arranged neatly in a case. You had snuck up behind him and nearly gave him a heart attack, you were as silent as a feline. When questioned though, you merely explained they belonged to your family as apparently your family came from a long line of fighters. It was simply for decoration. Why did he not know that?

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ It angered him a bit after that. How come you knew so much about him but he so little about you? A weird feeling pulled in his chest, he didn't like it very much but he knew he must get to know his assistant. Or at least try.

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ So he did, he would try to coax you into answering some basic questions of his. What's your favorite flower? Food? Asking your opinion on more things. But god, you were a tough one to crack. He knew you were often quiet but you only gave him one word answers to all his questions! Most people loved talking about themselves but you were the opposite.

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ It was a bit frustrating to be honest. Did you not want him to know you? He didn't like to admit it but it almost hurt, did you not actually like him at all?

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ He did the only thing he thought he could do, he snooped and researched. It wasn't very hard for a King as it was often that he had enemies or even spies after him from other nations. But once again, he was let down. His people could barely find anything substantial about you that he didn't already know about.

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ He felt powerless for once in his life. But he couldn't hide how his lack of knowledge on you made you. . alluring. He began to watch you more closely then ever before, convincing himself that it was to catch something in you that he had missed.

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ Following his usual morning routine, you had woken him up, drawing away his curtains to bring the morning light in. He groggily rolled over, opening one eye to view you in your impervious beauty. He hadn't noticed you in such a way before, the way the light lit up your hair, showing individual highlights. The methodical way you trace down his torso as you do up each button carefully, face clenched in focus. His heart beat faster, the apples of his cheeks warming. Does he. . like you?

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ The idea was unbelievable, at least to Amos. You were his servant, a noble but a servant no less. He didn't really believe in the concept of love much, it was all fictional tales that people wrote to feel better about in this tragic world. His parents never really loved each other, no one else he knew did so how could he?

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ It began to disrupt his work a tiny bit. He just couldn't focus with you in the room, he just kept staring at you and blushing like some lovesick puppy. He hated it. But he couldn't bear to get rid of you, even though he knew he very well should. He had to purge these.. yucky feelings somehow.

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ He tried pushing you away, only letting you help with necessary tasks he needed you for. No more breakfast and coffee together or mornings helping him dress and undress— no more!

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ On the other hand, you were left clueless. You were oblivious just as he, as you were brought up with a more authoritative upbringing. You didn't notice his blushing cheeks, must be the warm weather? But you did notice the fast heart and frequent stares, the way he'd kick you out before you could even disrobe him. Had he found out?

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ You went to your parents for help, in which you got laughs at you in return. They explained the boy, the King had a crush on you. What! It was a bit hard to believe and a bit humiliating that you did not realize sooner but at least you could use this to your advantage, to assassinate the king.

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ Seducing wasn't your forte, you were good at killing and stealth for goodness' sake! But you tried, you remembered your touch always giving him shivers and causing him to pull back in shock. At the time you thought your skin was just cold but perhaps it wasn't your skin but rather the fact it was your touch that was the problem.

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ You tried doing just that, brushing fingers when you handed him papers or his coffee. Whispering in his ear advice or information. It made you a bit giddy and smug at how well it worked, it was almost a bit cute the way he was instantly turned into a stuttering mess of a man who is supposed to be king.

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ Tonight was the night, you had prepared everything and under your jacket were concealed weapons. Amos had called you into his office late one night. You hadn't been so nervous on a job such as this one, to be fair it wasn't often you had to murder your childhood friend or perhaps this job was the longest one you have ever done yet. But you knew you had to go through with it, your parents were counting on you.

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ You knocked before entering, the office was dimly lit besides some candles sitting on the desk. Amos's gaze shifted from his papers to you once you walked in, "Ah, you're here. Please sit down for me."

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ "What did you call me for, Your Highness?" You tilt your head in concentration, batting your lashes in some innocent way you thought was enticing. Amos only laughed which caught you off-guard. "What's so funny?"

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ "Oh nothing, nothing. Just that you don't have to pretend anymore, at least with me." . . .

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ ". . What do you mean, Your Highness?"

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ "Dear, I know your plans. Your parents plan to assassinate me?" Your opened your lips to protest but you knew it was as useless as your heart sinking down to your gut. Your look must've amused him because he laughed again and stood up, rounding the desk to stand in front of you.

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ "Are you going to arrest me or execute me?" You asked, knowing the answer already. At least you thought you did. Amos' amused face dropped and looked rather mortified at that idea.

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ "Arrest you? Execute you? Lord, you must think me a monster then. No, no, dear. I would never do such a thing, to you at least. I can't say the same for your parents." What?

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ Amos saw the reaction on your face and spoke before you could, "Now, now, before you fight me on this just know that I am doing you a favor. Those parents of yours manipulated you, groomed you into the perfect little soldier of theirs." He reached a hand out and ran his fingers through the fallen strands of hair in front of your face.

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ "You know I can kill you right where you stand right? I am armed with enough weapons to bathe this room in your blood," you seethed out. You couldn't lie and say he wasn't right but they were still your parents. They were the only ones you cared about and yet. .

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ He laughed again, "That is very funny but I'm afraid killing me won't do you much good. I have already ordered guards to collect your parents. It is up to you whether I can torture them to death or simply arrest them. At least I will treat them well in the royal dungeons, no?"

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ You had found yourself at a loss. There was no real good choice but perhaps having your parents arrested was the best.

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ You sigh in dejection, only highlighting his cheshire cat grin. "What do you want?" You ask in defeat.

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ "I want you. You by my side always and I will treat you well, like royalty. Do that and I won't hurt a hair on your parents' head."

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ That's it? You figured he would want something else worse, but you've always been good at playing a part. The most confusing part of it all was why he'd want you of all people.

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ "Fine. . . deal." You offered your hand to shake on it and he took it, only to then pull you in a quick hug. It had shocked you, feeling his hand wrap around your torso to pull you in even closer. His lips latched onto yours before you could blink or even pull out a weapon.

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ Luckily it didn't last long as he pulled away to observe your face. Within that time you had taken out a dagger and placed it to his gut, not quite piercing but enough he could feel it. Oddly, he simply looked down to where the blade is placed with a dopey looking smile on his face.

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ "Ah, dear, I think I like you more like this. More raw. But I can't have you attempting to murder me, looks like I will need to get rid of your weapons."

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ After that Amos took away all your weapons to who knows where. He kept you by his side, much like how it was before except now it felt more. . domestic more than anything. The worst of it was him being touchy, you could hardly contain your grimace each time he kissed your cheek or pet your head but you felt like you couldn't say anything with your parent's life on the line. He hadn't let you see your parents either, simply saying they are being fed and treated well. You could barely believe him but it was hard to argue with the King.

❤︎ ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦢｡ "Stop worrying about your parents. Do they matter now? You have me, I'm the king, I am your only concern now. You're mine."

a/n: the end is so bad.. my brain ran out of juice but oh well. let me know if you want more amos!

#yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #yandere drabble #yandere oc #yandere hcs #yandere original character #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere x y/n

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