#boy bands layouts | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fairyofshampgyu · 1 year ago

Text

☆ Not as Tough as You Look !

genre: smut, crack

paring: emo vinyl store worker ! beomgyu x vinyl collector ! reader

Warnings: sub! beomgyu, dom! reader, choking !!!! grinding, riding, creampie, handjob, hair pulling, nipple play, degrading, fucking in a record store but there’s no one there, beomgyu has his nipples pierced and a thigh tattoo hehe and also his eyebrow pierced bc why not he’d look so fine

Word count: 3.7k

With your crippling vinyl collection addiction, you ticked off yet another record store on your list with a sigh, making your way to the next using trusty google maps and a determined gaze.

So far, you hadn’t been able to find your favourite band, Red Jellyfish’s vinyl in any of the stores you’d been in and you’d made it your sole mission to check out every single record store in your city in hopes of finding it to add to your ever growing collection.

It wasn’t the most financially stable hobby, yes, what with some records being so unreasonably pricey these days. And yes, technically you could listen to the albums for free online anytime instead. But that defeated the purpose! They just wouldn’t get the satisfying feeling of owning a shelf of your own physical music and whenever you added more to it. Also, music just sounded so much better spinning around on a record player in your bedroom and adding to the nostalgic ambience and aesthetic. It simply made you content.

Obtaining Red Jellyfish currently, however, was serving as a difficult task. It was always the case with more obscure bands but it just made it more riveting trying to find vinyl for them.

You arrived at the next, walking in and the arrays of endless records welcoming you, the place had a funky 70s vibe to it and was decorated as so with a cool layout. You noticed a listening booth, unusual to have in most record shops nowadays and this one was also unusually large, serving more as a separate small room with a record player and sofas so customers could have a listen. You loved listening booths and this definitely was a very cool record store. You’d be coming in again for sure.

Your thoughts are quickly dissipated, however, at the sight of the very cute worker stood behind the counter. You stop in your tracks and find yourself unable to look away, the purpose of why you actually came in the first place long forgotten.

He was unbelievably attractive with a long, shaggy wolfcut and bangs that half covered his eyes, adorned with an eyebrow piercing that added to his emo-esque look, sporting an oversized band shirt and baggy jeans and he had the most prettily sculpted features ever. The bottom of his soft brown eyes underlined ever so slightly with black eyeliner making his gaze rather intimidating.

“Hey, do you need any help?”

That snaps you back from your reverie and you jolt, unsure how long you were just weirdly observing him.

“Huh? Oh…no. Just looking….” Wow, even his voice was really nice.

He raises his pierced eyebrow at that and a knowing smile breaks onto his face. “Yeah? At what exactly? Vinyls or someone?” He bursts into laughter then and you feel your cheeks heat up, cocky and confident waves radiating off of him. Oh, he knew he was hot.

“W-what? No!” You scoff and clear your throat, embarrassed.

He chuckles still and beams at you, brushing his bangs away from his face with his hands, rings scattered on some of his fingers. God, even his hands were attractive. “Uh huh. But seriously, Would you like any assistance? It is my job after all.”

“Well actually,” You clear your throat and straighten your posture, attempting to play it cool and forget, you were still on a mission, you must not get side tracked by pretty boys. “you wouldn’t happen to have the band Red Jellyfish would you?”

His eyes light up almost immediately, “No way! I love Red Jellyfish. I’ve never come across another fan before! And we certainly do.” He grins and disappears into the back, soon arriving with the vinyl in hand and excitedly handing it to you, “They’re finally coming out with a second album after years. I’m so excited!”

“Same. I didn’t think they’d ever end up making music again after how long their hiatus was.” You enthusiastically agree, happy to find someone who also shared a liking for the band.

“Wouldn’t really take you to listen to emo music to be honest...” The cute emo boy looks you up and down, referring to your not so dark and edgy outfit and he’s grinning again.

“Yeah well, I guess you could say I have a pretty eclectic music taste.” You shrug, rolling your eyes jokingly at him. “Although I'm not really well versed on emo music besides that.”

You notice his big brown eyes beam even more with excitement, beginning to talk animatedly. “You should definitely listen to more. It’s great and it has a lot of range and sub genres and there’s some really good bands and! And-“ He rubs the back of his head sheepishly and stops himself, seemingly embarrassed. “Sorry, you just want to pay for your album and go.” He smiles apologetically at you and presses buttons on the cash register instead to calculate the price for you.

You shake your head and laugh, finding it more so endearing. "No. In fact, you’ve convinced me. I’ll definitely get into it more and listen to some bands. I wouldn’t know where to start though.” You’d let him talk your ear off all day to be honest. He was super cute.

His eyes turn into little crescent moons at that as he smiles broadly and you can’t help swooning internally once again. “Ooh I definitely have to give you some recs and make you a playlist! What’s your number?”

That’s how you find yourself squealing after leaving the store and not only managing to obtain the album you’d been extensively searching for, but also the very, very hot emo boy worker’s number. You’ll be telling your friend Soobin for sure all about it.

The emo boy indeed had a name, you'd discovered after exchanging numbers, Beomgyu, he’d told you. And you hadn’t been able to get the name out of your head ever since.

Him making a playlist for you didn’t really mean anything, he was just giving recommendations and being nice and friendly. But still, you’ll allow yourself to be a bit delusional about it. It was still a cute boy making a playlist for you! Even if it was pretty impersonal.

Later on into the night you receive a text that makes you giddy all over.

Hey, it’s Beomgyu ! We met earlier at the record shop. I made the playlist of emo recs already hehe :) let me know what u think ;)

Along with the text was a Spotify link to the playlist, spending your whole night just listening to it.

As you got to know the genre better. You appreciated it a lot more and found you actually liked a lot of the songs, particularly the more screamo ones. The screaming and whining itched your brain and you were fascinated how much vocal control they had to be able to scream yet sing at the same time. You make a mental note of all your favourites and decide to tell him in person, since it’d give an excuse to see him again.

You walk to the store the next day and you're glad to see him behind the counter and not someone else. “I listened to all the songs. They were really good.”

“Already?” He raises his brow in surprise to see you again, lopsided grin on his face and head tilted.

“Well…yeah?” You scratch your head. You don’t why you feel slightly embarrassed about that.

Beomgyu leans over the counter excitedly, “Which ones did you like?” Suddenly, a vinyl album comes full swinging at Beomgyu and smacks the back of his head hard. You stand, astonished. “Oww! What the fuck?” Beomgyu rubs his poor head in attempt to soothe it and turns around to the suspect.

"You better be working and not talking your ass off, Choi Beomgyu!!" His manger, yeonjun, you observe from his tag comes into view and stands with narrowed eyes at him.

“I’m taking a break!” Beomgyu waves with his hand, trying to shoo him away so he could continue his conversation with you.

“You just started your shift?!!”

“So! 9-5s are hard…” Beomgyu pouts and looks at you as if to back him up.

Yeonjun shakes his head, hand to his nose bridge, "You know I'd fire you right?"

"You wouldn't because you love me. And I’m your best friend." Beomgyu proudly smirks to him.

"Debatable..." Yeonjun sighs defeatedly and walks off to restock a shelf instead, beomgyu completely ignoring him and returning back to the conversation with you.

After that, you become close friends with the boy, frequenting the vinyl shop for records, but mostly an excuse just so you could converse with him. You seem to develop a music recommending relationship, sharing playlists and recommending each other songs and then giving your own opinions and reviews to each other.

To be honest, getting to hangout with beomgyu like that was the highlight of your days and you’d grown to like him a lot. He was fairly easy going and nice to talk to, even if the conversation fell short on your side given you weren’t that socially competent, he always managed to keep it going and you loved hearing his funny ramblings and stories he’d passionately go on about. You found a lot of what he did just so endearing.

He was also a massive flirt. And it seemed you weren’t the only person who noticed just how hot the boy behind the counter was as a lot of the times you were there, girls and boys were batting their eyelashes up at him and coming into the store just to flirt with him too. You didn’t blame them at all. He'd flirt with you from time to time as well but you tried not to dwell too much on it, figuring it was simply just his personality.

Even if you were just probably friends, you were happy to have gained a friendship either way. He brought colour into your usual mundane day to day living and you hadn’t made a new genuine friend in so long, something that was seemingly rarer the more you got into adulthood. And so, you just appreciated the friendship. Even if you had developed the teeniest crush on him. Well, probably more than that.

Soobin had been nagging you for days on end about wanting to see this beomgyu guy for himself you'd talk about and doubting that he was so fine like you say, that you end up giving in and deciding to drag him along to the record store with you as well one day.

Upon seeing you walk in, Beomgyu's eyes light up happily, resembling that of a puppy seeing their owner finally arriving back home and he smiles widely...then he sees the tall guy following in behind you and his demeanour suddenly changes, head tilted and frowning, lips more in a pout.

Once you walk up to the counter with a vinyl Soobin wanted, beomgyu stares coldly and cautiously for a rather strange time at the tall blonde innocently sipping on his boba tea besides you and eventually speaks up. "Is he like, your...boyfriend?"

Soobin splutters and chokes on his drink and both of you wave your hands in a frenzy, "No!"

"Oh!" And he's back to his usual cheery self, smiling contently, a bit unsettling to both you and soobin as you exchange a wary look. "Yeah. It’s good he isn’t…” Beomgyu stares back at soobin with a look of such distaste and disgust.

You leave the store after paying not without trying to reassure a grumbly Soobin who looked like he was about to throw hands any second. “What did he mean it's good he isn't?!” He mocks beomgyu’s voice and scoffs. “I feel offended! Is he saying I’d make a bad boyfriend?! He doesn’t like me? Well I don’t like him. Bitch.”

You sigh, patting your frowning friend on the back, not sure what else to say at the strange interaction.

Finally, the day Red Jellyfish’s new album drops arrives and although it took absolutely everything in you not to listen to it instantly, both you and beomgyu had promised each other you’d listen together in the listening booth after his shift. So the day seems to drag on and on as you anticipate and impatiently waited for the evening when beomgyu would at last finish.

You zoom to the store when it’s finally time, seeing him tidying and closing up. You sit down onto the vintage orange funky sofa in the listening booth as beomgyu placed the album into the record player before taking a seat next to you, both holding in your breath as the first track plays, and then swapping an excited glance with widened eyes to each other as soon as the guitar melody starts playing and the bass also comes in, both remaining silent as you enjoy the song and listen attentively to what was going on. It was already so sick.

Once it ends you both excitedly gush over the new song before the second tracks rolls on. It’s a lot slower and more dreamy and ambient. The guitar distorted and playing a pretty rolling arpeggio and giving off the genre of a more shoegaze piece.

You stare at beomgyu’s concentrated face and he stares back. He really is so gorgeous, the pretty song seemingly reflecting this as you can’t help but admire him. You can’t help it either when your eyes flicker to his seriously pretty rounded lips for a second, wondering what it’d feel like to have them pressed with yours…

It seems it doesn’t go unnoticed by beomgyu either as he shuffles even closer to you, his scent intoxicating you as he grins smugly, looking down at your own lips that has you malfunctioning. He tucks in a strand of your hair behind your ear, still gazing and corners of his mouth pulling up, smiling at you.

There’s this underlying tension and the album you’d been heavily anticipating for months, the last thing on your mind, dissolving into background noise as the only thing you can think of is beomgyu and how close he is to you. It’s hard to hold back anymore.

He inches closer and closer and he kisses you. Finally kisses you, and you melt into the kiss with him, making out fervently.

He pulls you into his lap, gripping your waist and tracing kisses on your neck instead that makes you gasp. “Couldn’t help it anymore…so pretty. Always make my day whenever you walk in.” Beomgyu whispers lowly, brushing his lips lightly against your ear which makes you shiver and the corners of his mouth curl into that stupid grin you’ve seen many times.

But then you decide to roll your hips against his and grind against his cock in his jeans and he falters instantly, mouth parting ‘o’ shaped and he whimpers high pitched, so unlike him. His ears and cheeks flush red and your movements stop. “S-shit sorry. Did I ruin it? That was really weird, fuck. Sorry.” Beomgyu averts your gaze, apologising profusely and embarrassed, bottom lip quivering slightly you notice. His whole demeanour changes. You’ve only ever seen beomgyu embarrassed a short handful of times, usually so sure of himself, but it only makes you go more crazy for him.

“Wanna act all tough but a little grinding is all it takes and it’s all crumbling down, huh?” You grin trying not to laugh, finding the boy and the way he’s shying underneath you suddenly so amusing. He still doesn’t make eye contact, cheeks even more impossibly red, “Look at me, baby.” You lift his chin up, seeing the way he reacts to the pet name, his eyes slightly widening.

“No. Don’t want to. Too embarrassed.” Beomgyu pouts cutely, you chuckle and coo at him, stroking his cheek which he leans into. You begin to grind against him again and take the lead in kissing him, his hands shaking and gripping your waist even tighter as he attempts to stifle his whimpers, eyes tightly shut. You kiss and suck down his neck as well, determined to leave hickeys in their wake. You’re surprised by how easily he submits to you. You like it a lot.

You pull the oversized band shirt he wears over his head and unzip his ripped jeans. The sight your met with however making you audibly gasp, his pink nipples prettily pierced through and the top of his plush thigh tattooed in a pattern of a heart and lines branching out like thorns. It makes you even more feral.

Gripping the pretty flesh of his tatted thigh, you begin to jerk off his cock which was flushed and leaking precum anyway as he waited for you to do something. He whines and moans into your ear as you pump your hand up and down on his length, head buried deep in your neck.

You can feel his heavy breaths and the drool on you and his whole body twitches and squirms when you place your free hand on one of his nipples instead, rolling the bud in your fingers and twisting which elicits a strangled moan out of him, clinging to you even tighter when you ruthlessly pump his cock, thumb toying with the slit on the head of dick and also still toying with his now puffy nipples. You can feel the drool dribble down your neck now. And you know he’ll cum any second, added ministrations on his pretty tits not helping him from restraining at all, so sensitive especially ever since he got them pierced.

“F-fuckk..hah..Please. Can I cum?” He removes his head from your neck to look up at you with wet doe eyes. He’s so unexpectedly pliant in your hands, you’d give him anything if he looked up at you like that. And so you do, allowing him to cum, he whines loudly and squirts making a pretty mess, cum coating his tattoo on his thigh.

You’re not anywhere near done with him yet though and you hover over his dick, bringing the head to slide over your entrance and folds a few times before you sink completely down on his wet and sticky cock. Beomgyu throws his head back and groans, biting his lip hard at the feeling of his cock inside your warm pussy and you begin to slowly ride him, sucking in air loudly.

“Mmh fuck pull my hair too. It’s okay I like it rough-ah s-shit. Can take anything you give me” Beomgyu stutters and throws an arm over his head, eyebrows deeply furrowed.

So you tug and pull at the strands of his long hair and tangle and run your hands in his scalp, it makes him moan even louder, looking absolutely in bliss, you could tell just how much he liked his hair being pulled and pull with even more force, his eyes glazing up and mind all mushy and hazy now as you continued to fuck him and tug on his scalp. He looked so slutty and you can’t help telling him.

“Such a slut.” He just whines loudly in response. “You like being called a slut, huh? Wanna be my toy, my pet, my slut?

“Y-yeah-ah so good-holyy s-shit” He just nods vigorously, so dumbed out at this point, jaw hanging dumbly open. “W-wait squeeze my neck please.…”

You didn’t think beomgyu would be such a freak either.

“Are you sure, beomgyu?”

He strenuously nods and begs you. “Yeahh..need it please. I can take anything.” He gently takes your hand on his own and brings it to press down on his neck. He still stares at you with his big round brown eyes. It was honestly a confusing juxtaposition, the way he looked at you innocently whilst asking you to do something so obscene as choking him.

You squeeze his pretty neck either way and watch as he hisses and his face scrunches up gorgeously, veins in his neck popping out and grunting, you fuck him ruthlessly bouncing on his cock and the squelching so loud and clear and evident despite the music still playing on the record player.

You can’t help feeling possessive over him, finally having him beneath you, all yours to use, remembering all the girls that come in everyday to flirt with him and you get to have him all to yourself . Imagine the look on their faces if they could see beomgyu right now, your hands still lightly squeezing his neck and riding him. You kinda wish you could mark him all over.

“H-harder…choke me harder” Beomgyu gulps.

It makes your pace on his cock even faster and so rough and you press down on his neck ever harder. His jaw clenches, neck and face red and eyebrows furrowed. He gasps for air, letting out the prettiest loud and whiny breathy noises.

His breath hitches with every unrelenting bounce on his cock and he struggles to breathe, eyes heavy lidded and so fucked out, a distant look on his face, you press down just a little bit more on his neck and his eyes roll to back of his head, a long strangled high pitched moan coming out of him as he bucks his hips up and convulses, spurting heaps of his cum inside you and it brings you over the edge too. He can’t stop cumming it seems, shaking and endlessly panting and still squirting inside you as you basically milk him. You can see the red imprint of your hand on his pretty neck along with the numerous hickeys you left, it was definitely a sight to see.

It takes a while for beomgyu to recover from his high after how good you fucked him but he eventually speaks up, clinging to you. “Sooo, I got two tickets to see red jellyfish…Would you possibly want to go with me?” He grins and pants, biting his lip, still out of breath and bangs damp from sweat, pierced eyebrow raised and head tilted as he waited your answer.

You chuckle wrapping your arms around him tightly, kissing him again. “I’d love to.”

Please actually reblog !!!!!! and leave comments !!!! guys 😭 if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated and so nice tysm !<3🙏💕🌷🌷! It’s incredibly discouraging and irriating when fics have such little reblogs ☹️. At least send an anon in the inbox if you don’t want to rb, don’t just like. Feedback is always appreciated it make writers want to actually write :)

A/n: this is probably really messy bc I haven’t proof read. Writer’s block is actually so hard 😭😭 *just a little note-if anything seems familiar it is probably bc my mind has never been sane ever since hey emo boy! by koqabear. It is the emo beomgyu blueprint and literally birthed emo beomgyu <33

#beomgyu smut #txt smut #sub! txt #sub beomgyu #beomgyu x reader

2K notes · View notes

tteokdoroki · 2 years ago

Text

✩ — ANGELS SHOULD NEVER FALL THIS FAR FROM HEAVEN ⁀➷ everyone believes satoru gojo to be an angel. your mother considers her new son to be a blessing, even if he’s bratty and spoiled. but never once did think teasing him would make your step-brother to act on such ungodly desires. (3.2K)

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, smut, pwp, college!au, religious imagery, step-cest, groping, fingering, ‘just the tip’, exhibitionism, clothed sex, male masturbation, slight degradation, bratty behaviour, use of oneesan, unprotected sex, ruined orgasms, cumplay, fem!reader, step-bro!gojo.

things to note. lol sorry it’s been a while !! trying a new layout also posting this into the void while i work on kinktober eee !! idk i’ve had a rough time trying to write a one shot so im glad i could make this !! special thanks to @kishibye for beta reading. i hope you enjoy this bestie boos ily <3

“what are you doing?” there’s a sharp edge to the tone of satoru’s voice, splayed across his tongue that holds back a stream of curses. his eyes speak fury in their piping hot flames of wild cerulean as he watches you enter the kitchen and shoot straight for the snack cupboard.

you can feel the weight of his gaze as it crosses the slopes of your body, from the back of your head, twirling around your curves before ultimately falling to your behind.

playing innocent, you stand on your tip toes and grasp at the bag of chips you’re after. the ones on the top shelf. “whaddya mean ‘what am i doing’?”

“what do you mean what do i mean?” your step brother retorts childishly, as if you’re two kids fighting on a playground at recess.

you click your tongue and pay him no mind. “don’t be such a baby, satoru,” you wave a hand in his face in a haughty manner. “use your big boy words.”

gojo suppresses a whine when your shirt rides up and reveals your skin to gorgeous eyes. he lets it gargle around in his throat like the sting of cool mouthwash, before striding over to you — grabbing the chips and slamming the cupboard shut so hard it makes you jump.

“you can’t just walk around dressed like that.”

he gestures to your get up — the clothes you wear when nobody’s home. your sapphire silly and scallop-edged panties, your old and ratty band t-shirt haphazardly thrown on.

“why?” you turn around to come face to face with your younger (step)brother, noting the way his stare hones in on the plush meat of your thighs as you squish them together — leaning back against the kitchen counter.

“my friends are coming over.”

“so, what’s the big deal?” there’s something about pissing gojo off that entertains you. he’s a brat by all means, raised with a silver spoon in his mouth and daddy’s dollars tucked into his pockets. whenever there’s a problem, all it takes is a classic ‘toru temper tantrum and your parents are on the scene to fix things for him. he’ll never know the hardships of being raised by a single mother, always having a little less than most. he walks around in his own little bubble of riches - and you can’t help but want to pop it. “shoko thinks i’m cool and geto will probably jack off to me later. it’s whatever.”

“but it’s not whatever,” you can practically see satoru fight the urge to stomp his foot like a petulant child — even going as far to have the audacity to pout down at you. “you’ll just embarrass me. so do us both a favour and put some clothes on, nobody wants to see all that ‘round the house.”

“do you own this house?”

“no but i-“

“but your daddy does. and daddy isn’t here! so shut up, satoru!” jabbing a finger into his chest, you smile up at your not-so-little little step-brother, evilly. “i make the rules.”

“oh fuck you. all you do is mooch off of my dad, princess. you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for your mom whoring it out for him.” he sneers in response, upper lip curling into a distasteful snarl like a dog with a stranger on its territory. his words, though cruel and foul, are far from the truth and you know that he doesn’t mean it. satoru is a brat that throws acid laced words at anyone who gets in his way — yourself included.

even though you agree that your parents tied the knot all too fast — barely giving the two of you a chance to get to know each other as siblings. they were in love and far too happy for the rivalry between their children to get in the way. you know that the fact pissed gojo off to no end, he hated how your mother doted on him and how he’d always needed to fight for his father’s attention. now it certainly wasn’t ever going to be on him. but the two women in his house instead.

your poor, spoiled, baby brother.

however, you won’t let his words and how he projects onto you, hurt you. “whoops! looks like i dropped my will to give a fuck!” whilst pretending to drop your snack, you bend over in front of him to reveal inches of beauty marked and blemished flesh, drawing hungry seafoam eyes to the bounce of showing your ass — testing your little step brother. “i don’t care satoru, i’m older.”

satoru’s mouth snaps shut after moments of wordlessly opening and closing. he stands frozen on the spot, as if he can’t seem to process the very idea that his older step-sister had just flashed him to prove a point.

but just when you think you’ve won, the silver-haired brat is pressed right up behind you, forcing your body to bend over the cold marble counter that instantly has your nipples hardening against the icy surface. heat rushes to your face, blossoming just under the barrier of your skin as his hard on nestles it’s way between your ass cheeks — a symphony of your surprised squeaks echoing through the modern kitchen.

“hey! what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

instead of responding, he pushes your head down against the counter — circling his increasingly wet erection against your behind, manhandling the globes of flesh back onto his dick. “not so fun, is it.” he coos down at you, voice chilly and full of condescending highs and lows. “yanno…you’re awfully mean to me.”

saliva pools on your tongue, weighing it down in your mouth like a paperweight as satoru’s girth slips downwards, seedy tip brushing over panty clad and your swollen clit. “aren’t oneesan’s s’pposed to take care of their baby brothers?” his breath is hot and ragged against your ear as gojo haunches over you, caging you in like a wild animal as you thrash and writhe under his touch.

you can’t even bring yourself to feel an ounce of shame when gojo’s left hand dances between your tangled limbs and slips past the frilly band of your underwear — ghosting over the throbbing pearl laying between your sticky pussy lips. “step…step brother!” you whinge at the tingle of pleasure that blooms in your lower tummy and spreads like angel wings throughout the rest of your body.

satoru takes turns playing with you, alternating between his nimble, skilled fingers and his seedy girth that smears precum all over your inner thighs and panties. “like that even fuckin’ matters.” he laughs, twisted and proud. “could you get off like this? yeah i think you could…. you’re already so wet. just from grinding on your little brother’s cock.”

your legs grow shaky at his ministrations, beads of your juices oozing from your empty entrance to stain the man’s sweats, slicking him up as if it’s a signature of your claim. “‘toru!” you gasp, eyes rolling back into the depth of your skull. “m-more.”

“look at how fast you fold for me…” he pushes up your shirt so that the fabric pools around your waist — pawing at the fat there, massaging your hips softly as if he isn’t violently, cruelly rubbing one out on your achey pussy. “i don’t think you’re in a position to ask me for more, big sis.” satoru taunts, a heavy hand coming down on the bare skin of your ass, leaving a raw handprint in its place. “such a nasty slut, i bet you’d let me fuck you like this too. out in the open, where anyone could catch us.”

you yelp in surprise at the feeling of gojo’s messy, cream coated cockhead nudge at your entrance from over your panties — a slender finger pulling the soaked material to the side so he can fuck you with his tip. “oh, i bet you’d like that, huh baby?” he continues to purr, jutting his hips forward ever so slightly — feeding your greedy cunt a few more inches of him. satoru’s barely sheathed inside of you, but you’re already stretching deliciously around what he’s given you. he’s fat, girthy just as he is long and his mushroom tip drags along sensitive spots in your walls you didn’t even know you had.

he hasn’t even fucked you properly yet.

you sob, wail and writhe on your little step brother’s cock, nails clawing at the marble counter while your breath escapes you. “satoru, please fuck me. ‘m sorry… sorry—!”

“shh big sis, you’re being too loud,” he cups a hand over your mouth. gojo eases two digits past your plump lips to pacify your cries as he shallowly pumps his wet cock into the heat of your sex — gritting his teeth to hide his own moans. “we…fuck, you’re tight as shit… we wouldn’t want my friends to know that you dress like a slut for my cock, would we?”

you shake your head with a muffled moan, suckling the taste of yourself from gojo’s fingers and breathing heavily through your nose. “no, we wouldn’t. that’s right. good girl, oh shit.”

satoru laughs, a little cocky and a little drawn out in a long, whiny whimper over the wet slap of the backs of your thighs in the front of his own. but he trembles from behind you, like his legs are about to give out every time your creamy cunt sucks a little more of him in. it’s a miracle he’s managed to hold you both up.

guilt wracks your body intertwining with the red blood cells coursing through your veins and carrying limited oxygen to your brain — your head practically empty at how your little brother ruins you on half of his fat cock. this isn’t right, this is completely wrong and yet you feel yourself coming undone — weak in the knees and shaky in your lips, the dam in your lower tummy threatening to burst at any second and flood the room in an erotic river of your arousal.

pushing your head off of the counter, you lean into satoru, throwing your ass back onto him in rhythm with the harshness of his thrusts. everything is hotter, heavier and you can’t even think about how much of a bad step-sister you are when he’s dominating your body like this. the silky locks of satoru’s silvering hair press against your shoulder and he wraps a fist in the fabric of your shirt to pull you further back onto his cock.

“‘m gonna c-cum, oh god!” you squeal, flinching as your juices crudely slap against the kitchen floor. “i’m so close!”

he pants into your ear like a desperate dog, fully wrapping himself around you and trapping you against the counter so that you have nowhere to go except towards your high. “yeah?” gojo breathes heatedly, temperate breath cascading over the back of your neck and only adding fuel to your fire of desire. “i can tell, you get like this. all needy ‘n cute when you’re about to cum.”

his words have you clenching around his bulbous tip every time it pushes up against the pleasure spots you didn’t even know you had — your arousal catching in the pretty blue veins that spiral around the length of gojo’s shaft. “you don’t think i can’t hear you, big sis? late at night when you think everyone’s sleepin’….” his whistle tone moans are quickly replaced by deep growls and grunts that only just manage to escape from between the gritted rows of your step brother’s pearly whites. “when you stuff those tiny fingers into that tight little hole and—“

he reaches down between your mess of slick soaked limbs to land a harsh smack against your quivering pussy, sending the foamy ring of white where your bodies join flying about the place. “—and make yourself cum to the thought of me?” he continues, breathing ragged and laughing at you again when you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure.

“s-satoru!”

he soothes you with quick circles over your swollen clit and kisses to your shoulder — being careful not to leave marks. “oh did that hurt, baby? am i the mean one now?” licking a stripe up the side of your face and tasting the sweat on your glistening skin, satoru rambles on — filling you up with praises and copious amounts of precum. “you know i—fuck— you know i love you. my precious big sister, so fucking good to me. let’s make you cum, yeah?”

you’re allowed to rut back on him for a little longer, since he loves the sound of his name whirling around messily on your tongue, all high-pitched and sugar coated for him. if only you knew how badly he’d wanted you, how pissed he was when his father went on to marry your mother. gojo has wanted you since the very first night you met — his every waking thought has been carefully carved to lust after you, think of your eyes, your smile, your lips. fuck, everything about you has satoru under some kind of spell.

“r-right there. right there, t-there!” you chant the words like they’re the a prayer, as if they’re the only ones you know, allowing satoru to throw you through the loop of pleasure until you’re too far gone to stay on the ride.

angling his slender hips upwards, his cockhead bares down on the gummy centre of your g-spot just has he buries himself inside of you — right up to the hilt. “h-here? this where you want me, big sis?” gojo’s amused gasp turns into a coo when you let out a meek hum of agreement, babling wild nonsense and drooling into the counter you’re pressed against. “mmhm, got you creamin’ around me already. so cute, so good when you listen. when you’re a good t’me, oneesan.”

the honorific alone has your mouth running dry as if it’s been stuffed with cotton. though the syrupy pap, pap, pap of your sex says otherwise. it tells the truth of your sin.

and the thing that you don’t know about satoru is that he loves to give, feeding pieces of himself to you as he fucks you wild in the middle of your family kitchen. he wants you to have all of him, every corner and inch of his body just like he dreamed about. he knows it’s forbidden and that it’s wrong, but he can’t help but relish in the feeling of your pretty pussy sucking him in so selfishly, greedily clamping down on his thick base.

he would give you anything. anything you wanted and asked for if you’d let him. his hands slip from your waist to intertwine with yours splayed out on the cool marble surface, using his last spurts of energy to drag you towards your orgasm and the deep depths of sinner’s paradise.

“fuck me, fuck me, baby.” he growls possessively against the shell of your ear. “let go for me. lemme see how much you love your little brother—“

the crescendo of your pleasure is at an all time high, about to come crashing down on you like a tonne of heavy bricks.

that is until the door bell rings, accompanied by the sound of geto’s voice from the outside of the house. “yoo, satoru! open up!”

you’d think that you’d have been good enough for your little step-brother to keep going — to push onwards and let you cream all over him before he went to attend to his silly little friends. but he flips the script, pulling out of you just as you teeter over the edge to ruin your orgasm.

“no, no, please!” you sniffle, teary eyed with dissatisfaction sitting in your lower belly — the need to cum still there but the feeling of emptiness within your dripping walls taking over. “satoru…” you whine.

when you look behind you, he’s too busy finishing himself off — his black shirt between his teeth, sweats hanging low on his waist while gojo palms his hard and heavy cock as he pleases.

it’s coated in your arousal, shining under the artificial lighting in the kitchen and you watch with a pout as gojo jacks himself off to the view of your ruined cunt. he thumbs the seedy slit at the centre of his bright red tip, hissing through the sensitivity. he’s a picture perfect vision, appearing as an angel before your very eyes. a mop of halo white hair flop backwards with satoru’s head, rich sapphire eyes locked behind fluttering lashes that glisten with pearls of pleasure filled tears.

you know not to be mistaken, you know that satoru is more like an incubus than the heavenly being he presents as. the parts of your brain with better judgement see him as the sinner who made you fall from grace, committing such a heinous act. the desperate side of you with a brain full of lust and smoke screens sees your step-brother as a god who controls all of your desires.

you think you prefer that side of you more.

meanwhile, a drop of sweat runs a track down the length of satoru’s neck, catching on the curve of his Adam’s apple as he swallows down his euphoric laments. you find yourself jealous that his own fingers are wrapped around his sloppy dick instead of drawing shapes against your aching clit. you envy how good it must feel for satoru when he finally cums. ropes of thick white sling around his knuckles, much paler in contrast to his pearlescent skin tone.

a deep, gravelly moan erupts from his hot mouth like lava, accompanied by curses and the stuttered syllables you recognise to be your name while he finishes himself off. gojo jerks his sensitive cock over your ass to paint you with the last spurts of his release. it’s a claim on you as your step-brother, a way in which he can show you that he always gets his way no matter what.

whilst still recovering, your step-brother drags a slender finger through the puddle of cum he’s left on you, and drags it down to your stretched little hole before pushing it against your overstimulated clit. “hmm, so pretty.” gojo grins, slow and sly, when you twitch and attempt to jolt away from him. then unexpectedly, he lands a hard smack against your bum — revelling in your sweet cry of pleasure, impatience and pain. “go put somethin’ on, will ya, sis? my friends are still waiting outside.”

“i…i hate you.” you whimper shakily, brain frazzled from the situation.

satoru might be a spoiled brat, but he’s not mean enough to leave you here a shaky, dripping mess so he helps you to your feet — tenderly fixing the hem of your shirt and panties back into place (failing to wipe his cum off of you beforehand). you’re still pouting from your ruined orgasm once he’s done, and he nudges the underside of your chin with a singular knuckle.

“don’t worry big sis, i’ll come take care of you later. maybe i’ll even let geto watch since you love prancing around half naked for him too.” he teases, squishing your cheeks as you try to swat at him. “and you don’t hate me, you love me and this cock. clearly.” gojo sings and sends a cheeky wink in your before prancing away to open the door for his friends.

he pulls his pants up as he goes, not minding the wet patch you’ve left on him.

whereas, you scurry up to your room before they can greet you and gojo tells them that you’re feeling unwell.

that day, you learn two valuable lessons:

one — never mess with a spoiled brat, it’ll never end well for you and gojo will always get what he wants no matter who pays the bills.

two — geto really does like to jerk off to you, even more so when he watches his best friend punishes his older step-sister with enough orgasms to make her forget why she was in trouble with satoru in the first place.

6K notes · View notes

girasois · 11 months ago

Text

oliver sykes — please, like or reblog ♡ post human: nex gen out now!

coloring + effect by myself, @loviestudio ♡

245 notes · View notes

joonieskinks · 9 months ago

Note

I just read your blurb where reader wakes up and she’s married to Sergeant Soap and not Captain Soap but I feel like what if it’s reversed. What if she’s this young bonnie thing with a young husband and then she wakes up to be married to older, slightly more mature, Captain MacTavish.

uh- HELLO?? I love it. Sorry it took so long but here you go, hope I did it justice xx

warning: age gap so shoo if ur not into it

You sat up slowly in the bed, stilling orientating yourself and emerging from sleep. You had thought the sheets felt a little different, but assumed that maybe you were still dreaming. It was only when your eyes opened did you realize you weren’t at home anymore.

You were on base in the early morning, in a room that looked an awful like your husband’s when you would come to see him and stay with him for a couple nights. Well, that was what you did until his passing.

Johnny and you were a young love. He got down on one knee before he was even 23, and got to the altar before 24. You only got a couple months with him as husband and wife- a young widow they now called you. Everyday is hard, but that horrible day you received the news plays over and over in your mind all the time like a nightmare you just can’t shake.

John, Simon and Kyle all came to your door to tell you personally. They cried with you and stayed with you, they promised they would help take care of you, always. It’s what Johnny would have wanted.

The panic finally began to sink in as you could not remember how you got here. Everything was different but also incredibly familiar. This was the base alright, but the layout seemed altered, the paint a different colour. Looking around, you turned on the nightstand light, eyes briefly glancing at the framed photo beside.

It was like your blood turned cold.

There was your Johnny.

That’s your Johnny with his boys, with John, Simon, Kyle. But older, so much older. But he was alive, he was smiling, he’s so handsome and he’s there-

You shot out of bed, running into the hallway, searching for anyone, any familiar face. For your husband. Is he your husband? If he’s older? But how is he alive? Is he still alive?

The questions running around your head, threatening to ignite tears from your eyes. You turn a sharp corner, bumping straight into a hefty figure.

“Sorry” you stumbled out, trying to regain your balance.

“‘S alright.” The man started, looking down at the small, young girl who’s a frantic mess before him.

“Hey, hold on,” he starts again, and you glance up. Coming face to face with John Price. Much older, a thicker beard adorning his face, but that same damn hat. It was him.

“Slow down there a sec and-“

“John?”

The recognition in your voice stops him in his tracks, he looks you over for a couple seconds and shakes his head.

“Think you might be mistaken, love.” He smiles gently, trying to be as polite as possible.

“Johnathon Price- Captain. You, Kyle, Simon and my Johnny were all on Taskforce 141 when we met. You even came to our wedding, you were one of the groomsmen for crying out loud. I-“

“Stop right there.” John orders, his hands coming to grip your shoulders. “How could you possibly know about all that?”

“John, I know you. Now, what’s going on? How did I get here and why’re you older?” You asked, utterly confused and exhausted, you needed answers and you needed them now.

He glanced around the room before making his decision.

“Alright, come with me. We’ve gotta talk.”

John sat you down in a private room with a two-way mirror where you told him all about himself, how you woke up here and your marriage. Your Johnny MacTavish, your young husband who went by Soap. Everything, you laid it all on the table, the task force, the mission, the death. Everything.

And John believed you, as crazy as it sounded, from wherever you came from and however you got here- because how else could you know all this?

As he listened, he kept looking to your ring finger, the gold band adorning that you refused to ever take off. He admired your devotion.

John sat, silent when you finished, glancing towards the mirror every now again. Thinking and planning his next move.

“Wait here.” He stood up from his chair and left out the door, leaving you with your own thoughts. But only the same questions were on repeat.

Where am I? What was that photo? Why is he older? Is he still alive? Does he know who I am? Would he think I’m crazy? What now?

You almost didn’t register the sound of Price opening the door again until his figure reappeared. He could only stare at you, empathy in his eyes. Although this was a weird situation, he could tell you were genuine and wanted to help, so he trusted you. Anything for his boys, Johnny included.

“He’s been listening.” John starts and you draw in a breath.. You didn’t even know you were holding it.

He? As in your Johnny?

“He would like to meet you, if you’d like to see him-“

“Yes.” You reply without thinking.

Eager for anything, anything at all that could bring you a glimpse Johnny. The love of your life taken so young, life was so cruel and unfair. Taking him just as you were happiest. He was alive but was this still your Johnny? From the photo he was older, he’s different. He probably doesn’t even know who you are, for all you know he could be married, have his own kids. Who the hell are you to interrupt all of that?

“Then I’ll take my leave.” John huffs, interrupting your thoughts. He eyes you up and down one last time before exiting once again.

You sit up from your chair instinctively, playing with your ring. It’s only now that the doubt hits you like a truck.

Would he believe you? Would he laugh you off? Would he even like what he sees?

The thoughts raced until he opened up the door, reveling himself to you. Then you could only stare in shock.

That was your Johnny.

Older, yes. But that was him. Banged up with more scars, he looks tired yet wears his age well, you just wish you could’ve seen him grow older alongside you… But that’s your Johnny alright.

His eyes drag from the floor to meet yours and he offers you a small smile. It’s enough to shoot the air back into your lungs and for your heart to beat again. The tears starts to leave your eyes and your hands shoot up to wipe them away.

Johnny takes a good look at you and particularly that golden wedding band that he supposedly gave you. It’s still always been his dream to marry a girl like you, in some odd way he feels proud that in another life he got you. A gorgeous, caring and devoted wife that he could love up and spoil. Johnny knows himself and in any life, he would do the same: wife up a woman like you. Looks like he did. Looks like he still could.

“I ‘eard what ye said.” He softly speaks. You close your eyes at the sound. It feels so good to hear him again. A little different, but it’s still him.

“Bonnie, ye don’t have to cry.”

He steps forward to cup your face, wiping your tears away with his fingers. You place your own hands over his, keeping him there. Having him touch you again, it’s better than anything you could have ever prayed for. This is all you think about and to finally have it all come true. Even if it’s just for a second, you’d trade it all away.

“My wife, eh?” Johnny jokes to try and lighten the mood. You look up into his eyes and laugh with a smile despite the tears still leaking. He doesn’t mind, he wipes them still anyway.

“It’s so good to see you again.” You confess, a hand leaving his to touch his scarred face. From his cheeks, a thumb over his chin and his lips. He’s so hard to look away from, how handsome he grew up to be. His gaze and attention makes you bite your lip out of habit. A blush flooding your cheeks- he still has the same effect on you. Damn.

The feeling goes straight to your core, and you react before you can think. Bringing your face to his, foreheads resting against each others while your hands explore his back and shoulders, his neck and through his hair. Something he used to love, and it makes you whine a little when he moans at the feeling. He loves your touch just as much.

“Lass, yer doin’ somethin’ wild to me.” Johnny stumbles out, his hands coming to rest on your waist, pulling you in until you’re flush with his body. He feels so good, so toned under his clothes and solid. You didn’t want him to stop, your mind starting to spin.

He runs his hands up your sides, gliding your shirt up to touch the bare skin underneath. The slightest touch has you moaning his name out and he can’t help but swell with pride as he sees this gorgeous, young girl before him come apart, desperate for more of him. His ego has never felt so big until this moment.

“Johnny…”

“What do y’a need?” He mumbles out against your lips, brushing them with just enough touch to set your skin on fire, begging for more.

“Kiss me.” You lean further into his touch, eyes fluttering shut. It’s all too much, and yet you want more. God, you knew that if he were to take you right here in this room, you’d come undone within a minute. Easily. Happily.

“Please.”

“Well- what the wife wants, the wife gets.” He chuckles as he clashes his lips to yours, his large frame utterly engulfing your small one. The way he uses your title so easily, wife- you can’t help but need more of him everywhere, all over like a wife deserves from her husband. Your own hands itching for more of him to touch, your mouths moving together, tongues finding each other as he hums against you.

Johnny guides you and gently backs you up against the wall, a hand protecting your head as your body meets it. You try to pull him even closer to you, grabbing at his clothes when you realize you need him completely bare. It’s been so long since you’ve felt good, only ever wanting your husband. And now here he is just for you. You wonder if he’s even better now with his age... Hard to tell without a test drive.

But it’s only when you need to part for air that some of reality comes back to you.

Guilt.

“Wait, Johnny.” The alarm bells go off in his head and he looks at you worriedly.

“What’s wrong?” Seeing his eyebrows crease you immediately try to calm him. Another kiss to his lips and he eases up a bit. Just like he used to.

“I need to know. Do you- do you already have someone? A wife?”

Your nerves hit once more. He could still have someone in this universe or wherever you are. And even like this, you couldn’t be that woman that ruins a marriage. Even if he does feel rightfully yours.

Johnny smiles a bit at the question before glancing downward, almost as if he’s shy or embarrassed.

“Nay, never did.” He starts before taking your cheeks back into his hands, looking into your eyes.

“Just you.”

The biggest smile breaks out on your face, your hands tugging at his shirt to bring his lips back down to yours. He feels good, warm, right. Yours. Still yours. Always yours.

“I know I’m a little young, but that doesn’t bother you, does it?” You ask with a slight smirk against his lips.

Johnny just laughs, his hands working their way down your body to cup your ass almost possessively.

“Certainly not.” His eyes looking all over your face, taking you all in. Gods, you’re gorgeous and all his? He could still hardly believe it, but he’ll be damned if he didn’t at least get to know you and try to make it all work with you. He owes that much to himself.

“Does it bother you?”

“Hmm? You being older?” You ask innocently.

Johnny only nods, still admiring your beautiful face, his girl.

You shake your head no, not daring to look away from his gaze.

“I think it’s sexy, Sergeant John MacTavish.” You quip teasingly.

A groan escapes his lips, his pants straining against him almost painfully at this point. He needed you now or he might combust.

“This room or mine?” Johnny whispers, bringing his knee in between your legs and his mouth to your ear.

“And it’s Captain now, bonnie. Make a decision or I’ll make one for ya. Put on a show.” He glances to the two-way mirror and a nervous giggle leaves your lips.

Your husband most certainly would do such a thing.

Johnny was sure to make you use his proper title as he properly had you in bed, as well as used yours.

And with your volume and his reach, everyone on the base now knew he had a wife.

Things were complicated, sure, but you two would figure it out. He knew you both wanted to give it a try and were both willing despite it all.

And after a few weeks, he decides that all there’s left to do is buy a ring of his own that’ll match yours.

746 notes · View notes

keystonepublishing · 8 months ago

Text

Dirges in The Dark by WixWrites

Before I start, let me just say: Ranchers! Scarian! Hermits and Life Series and Empires characters! Sheriff Jimmy! Sheriff Scar! Criminal Tango! the Wild West! Treebark and Ethubs!

RANCHERS. THE WILD WEST. CREEPING ELDRITCH HORROR.

Whoo, that was a rush.

I'll be honest; I think this book would have come out much sooner if not for my decision to add-in a whole lot of stuff into the text and pages. It got to the point that the original cover would have been a wanted poster at the front and a sheriff's report at the back!

I had to restrain myself, lest this book would never get finished at all. It's already been 59 days since my last post, and doing the original cover would have stretched the days even further. So I had to follow the mantra: Finished, not perfect. Besides, nothing says I can't make another version in the future...

From the moment I finished this fic, I knew it would become a book. But at 143,412 words, Dirges in The Dark by @twodiamondhoes would stretch my ficbinding skills to the limit and would be the second-ever bind that would reach past 250 pages (the first was an MCYT Sleepy Bois fic that predates this blog that I want to redo).

Eventually, the full typeset took up 520 pages! And as such, I finally decided to use extra support for the entire textblock. From an old pair of pajamas, I backed strips of fabric with glue and paper before cutting it into tapes, forming a crucial support for the various weaves along the spine. I then covered the entire spine in brown wrapping paper for even more strength.

For the title and headings, I scoured for and found several typefaces, dingbats, and vector graphics which really evoked the fic's Western and Gothic vibes. I also took some inspiration from fellow ficbinders in the Renegade Publishing group for the style of layout and formatting throughout the book, such as using faded images in the background of these pre-story pages.

I wanted the reader to be immersed in the Wild West from the get-go, so having such images from the start — before the story even begins — felt very appropriate. I tried to make them thematic to the information presented, like a singing cowboy for the music playlist pages, but I think I made the image too faint to be seen!

As for the chapter openers, I experimented with some layouts before finalizing on what you see: photos taking up one entire page on the left with the chapter titles and opening paragraphs on the right.

Just like my last bind, I want to make the reader feel immersed in the story and also bring out the mood of that particular chapter. This, however, led me to entire days of scouting and scouring stock photo sites just to find the right pictures for 11 different chapters. 4/10 would not recommend for sanity.

Given that the story uses a number of foreign words, old slang, and specific Wild West-era terms, I added a plethora of footnotes at the bottom of some pages for extra context and meaning.

I also wanted to be playful and make certain story parts, such as characters receiving letters and notes, really look like they're a part of the story. So I cropped old paper textures and fished out old fonts from the past to make them look as if they're actually there, pasted against the paragraphs!

More importantly, there were some specific parts of the fic that felt super important and I wanted to highlight these passages, especially the Deals made by the characters throughout their arcs. Given DiTD has a certain affinity with eldritch darkness, I decided to highlight such paragraphs by backlighting them against a band of pure black. Besides being thematic as hell, I made the bands have curved edges and decorative lines to add a certain western-gothic touch!

It was from this that I begin to think "what if I can color entire pages to convey the mood and setting?"

...Which led to the madness in these pages. I can't reveal too much because of spoilers, but there are certain times when the characters end up in situations where the very light turns to dark. Or they end up in hellish situations. Or the eldritch creatures began to speak.

It took some creative brainstorming to figure out how to show the mood of such scenes in printed pages, but I eventually figured out that I need find the right fonts, change their colors from black to white, and then change their backgrounds from white to dark to highlight them all! The power of formatting!

There's a lot more pages where I went wild with such shades and fonts, but I ain't revealing in public because spoilers!

But undoubtedly, this is the biggest experiment I have made with this bind. There is a certain part where Grian and Pearl spoke in eldritch R'lyehian / Cthuvian, and I want to convey the sheer strangeness of the speech and it's meaning. Something outside the box.

Luckily, I have an inspiration in fellow fanbinder @mythrilthread, who made an amazing fanbind that used vellum overlays to showcase the speaking of alien languages and what they mean in English. AND IT LOOKS SICK AS FUCK. When I finished reading Dirges, I knew I had to emulate this form of language translation, so I printed the eldritch speech, cut it, and pasted it onto the spine to give a similar effect of strangeness, and IT LOOKS SO COOL!!!

And lastly, I just had to include some of the amazing fanart made by readers into the book! All of these are placed by their corresponding text and chapters, and they all look so cool!

So I want to give a special thanks to @azzayofchaos, @leafdoodles, @hybbart, and @foxyola for granting their permission for me to include their incredible works into this bind! The dark shades and page formatting is one thing, but these works truly make this book feel so much more alive!

All in all, this bind was an odyssey in the making. I experimented with page formatting, layout wizardry, and bookmaking methods that I haven't tried before. While I know I could do better, I am beyond happy to see this work finished!

And once again, a thousand thanks to @twodiamondhoes / WixWrites for crafting an amazing story!

#bookbinding #fanbinding #ficbinding #my bookbinds #mcyt #Hermitcraft #Life SMP Series #Trafficblr #Empires SMP #Dirges In The Dark #jimmy solidarity #tangotek #team rancher #solidaritek #Wild West #Old West #American West

191 notes · View notes

slugsby-pt3 · 10 months ago

Text

zero day headcannons

- andre is always bruised the fuck up from assholes at school because cal always has some smart shit to say and andre has to whiteknight him

- cal does not cut but andre….yall aren’t ready for that

- cal is depressed in the way that he is dissatisfied with the world and not the type where he feels the need to punish himself

- cal’s surprisingly a really good big brother and was really excited to get a baby brother

- andre and his older brother fight like dogs, andre has definitely chased his brother around the kitchen with a knife as siblings do

- andre isn’t a wall puncher because he’s so anal about his room looking a certain way so he goes down to his basement and breaks shit

- andre doesn’t listen to music, like he doesn’t have a favorite band at all. He listens to whatever’s on the radio that isn’t ear piercing and whatever cal listens to

- andre is a secret hopeless romantic, i.e keeping that note from a girl in eighth grade

- cal knows Rachel likes him and just see it as a non factory (plus a secret thing of liking how reactive andre gets where cal brings her up)

- andre unknowingly is in love with cal and just sees them as best friends that really care for each other (in a I just wanna kiss him in a bro way) and doesn’t understand his parents telling him they are “codependent”

- andre’s internalized homophobia is the reason him and cal died virgins

- even if they ended up realizing it, cal wouldn’t be able to get it up (hiii dylan)

- andre’s room is insanely tidy, like has the layout and an organizer so everything goes where it should

- cal’s room is dirty as all fuck, clean/dirty clothes on the floor, growing cultures in all the dirty moldy bowls on his bed side table and around his bed

- cal smells like applesauce and cheap weed

- andre is accidentally straightedge, not because he like believes in that ideology. He’s just very particular in the things he allows himself to do. (Plus cal got him high one time in tenth grade and andre hella greened out and it ruined it for him forever of it)

- people at school don’t know andre is jewish and just think he’s obsessed with German shit in a edgy nazi teenage boy way

- cal hates school functions, and even skips assemblies, but always comes to Andre’s cross country and track meets

- andre is very protective over mel and uses his money from his pizza job to buy her toys and clothes

- when andre and cal have sleepovers at Andre’s house, cal’s expected to adhere to mel having a specific spot on Andre’s bed since she was “here first”

- andre was known as the angry kid in elementary after throwing a printer towards a teacher in the second grade (giving Connor realness)

- andre has fun saying shit in French/german to confuse cal

- andre is that fucking irritating kid that plays devil advocate in history/government class

- andre took lineleader crazily serious in elementary school, fully letting that small sense of superiority completely control him

- he also took kahoot and dodgeball to the next level (andre was one of those shitty teenage boys that would throw it as hard as he could and then be a dick saying ‘I didn’t even throw it that hard’ as if he didn’t nearly pull a goddamn muscle doing that shit)

#zero day 2003 #zero day #cal gabriel #andre kriegman #cal and andre #caldre #hey I posted some of these on my prev account and I added some new ones #I wanna put Andre in my pocket and carry him around

277 notes · View notes

pedriache · 4 months ago

Text

Rubberband 𖦹 Pau Cubarsí

summary. he was supposed to be there for you until the end, but he wasn’t. and now, all you had left was a flimsy rubber band that you couldn’t let go of.

word count. 965+

disclaimers. angst.. soz

bea speaks! back on my tate mcrae grind and remembered how impactful this song was so i felt like torturing everyone!! also! new layout in case u guys didn’t recognize me or wtv..

It wasn’t supposed to be this hard to let him go. You’d promised yourself it wouldn’t be. You promised it every time your fingers hovered over his every time your heart ached for a voice you have memorized—burned into your skull.

It’s been weeks since Pau left. Since he walked away. Since you agreed to end it before it turned toxic. “It’s for the best,” he’d said, his voice steady, the resolve in his eyes like a wall of bricks you couldn’t climb. And you’d nodded, swallowing the lump growing in your throat, pretending you were okay, that you didn’t care.

But you did, you do.

Even now, you still wear the bracelet he’d given you—the one he tied around your wrist before his first match of the season, telling you, “it’s for good luck.” A small, toothy grin adorning his face.

It was a rubber band, plain and unimpressive, but a piece of him nonetheless. You’d tried to take it off on many occasions, telling yourself it was just an elastic, but the second you felt the exposed skin and the emptiness it left, you couldn’t bear it.

You’ve become stuck in this in-between. Snapping the band against your wrist every time you think of him, as if the sting could replace the ache caused by the gaping hole in your chest.

Every memory of his laughter, his hands brushing yours, the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t watching.. it all comes back to you, relentless like an endless cycle of torture.

You see him everywhere. On your TV screen, on social media, on posters spread around Barcelona. In the smiles of strangers that reminded you of his. You can’t escape him, but you cannot reach out to him. What would you even say? “I miss you” “I think we made a mistake”? That just simply wouldn’t do. That would unravel everything you’d tried so desperately to keep in tact.

And yet, every time the band snaps, you wonder if he feels it too. If somewhere between the matches and the press conferences, he’s thinking about you. About the way your laugh sounded, of your loving gaze. How one of the reporters eyes crinkled the way yours did when you smiled at him.

You wonder if you’d ever be ready to let go. Probably not, but you could hope. But for now, the rubber band stays on your wrist—a fragile connection to the boy you were trying to forget, to find out how to stop loving him.

Staring into the soft glow of your TV screen, the show you were watching long since forgotten. Your mind reels. Snapping the band against the flesh of your wrist, the memory starts before you can stop it.

“Why a rubber band?” You asked, laughing as you hold up your wrist to examine it.

Pau grins widely, shrugging as he tugged his jersey over his head. “Because it’s simple. And they don’t break easily.” He wriggled his eyebrows as he looked down at you, “kind of like us.”

You’d rolled your eyes, but your heart felt impossibly fuller. He was always so effortless with his words that seemed to come from a deeper part of himself he rarely shared.

Now, as the silence stretches out around you—the TV droned out of your thoughts, the warmth of that moment felt so far away.

You begin rubbing at your wrists absentmindedly, the band rubbing against your skin that pushed another memory forward.

“Do you think you’ll ever get tired of this?” You’d asked one night while lying on his couch, your head on his chest, soothed by the sound of his even heartbeat.

His hand paused in your hair, his voice soft but certain. “Of what? Football?”

“No.” You tilted your head up, chin resting against his chest, meeting his gaze. “Me.”

He’d blinked at you, as if the thought of that was preposterous. “Never.” He said, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I love you, you know that, right?”

The sharp sting against your wrist pulled you back from the memory. You could laugh. The word—Love—feels like some sort of cruel joke now. If he loved you, why did he leave you like it was easy?

The last words you two had spoken to each other, replays in your mind. Vivid, as if it’s only happened yesterday.

“You deserve someone who is there for you, always. Not just when their schedule allows it.” His voice was low, head turned to the side as he avoided your eyes.

You’d reached for him anyways, your fingers brushing his. “I don’t care about that, Pau. I love you.” You pleaded, desperate and breaking.

But he’d stepped back, shaking his head. “It’s not fair to you or us. I can’t give you what you need right now.” You’d nodded, pretending like you understood as if it didn’t feel like someone had physically reached into her chest and cut her heart with dull scissors.

Now you sat here, reliving memories that felt more like ghosts of your former self. Eyes fluttering down to the band, you tug it off your wrist and flip it over in your plam—examining it with a dozen heavy emotions flooding you.

You want to scream and cry, to throw it across the room and break something. You don’t, though. You still felt a stupid, childish hope.

Hope that one day, he’ll look back and regret it all. That he’ll remember the tender moments, the inside jokes, the way you made him laugh when nobody else could. That maybe he will find his way back to you.

So, instead, you slowly slide it past your fingers and knuckles, down to your wrist where it sat against purple tinted skin.

likes, comments, and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future pau posts.

ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @lechrts @ar4ujos @sakashq @h4vertzz @joaoflms @spidybaby @unx100to @jajajhaahaha @n0vazsq @ilovebarcaaa @f1lover55

#pau cubarsi #pau cubarsi angst #pau cubarsi x you #pau cubarsi one shot #pau cubarsi fanfic #pau cubarsi x reader #pau cubarsi imagine #pau cubarsí #pau cubarsi x y/n #pau cubarsi x fem!reader #blurb #football #angst #angst with open ending #fanfic #fc barcelona #fc barcelona fic

131 notes · View notes

concreteburialplot · 9 months ago

Text

Wallflower 🌸

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Fem!Reader

Series Masterlist: Here | Crossposted: ao3 | Word Count: 7.6k

Summary: Overwhelmed at your first college party, you catch the attention of the most popular guy in the room. Not only does he offer a comforting escape from the chaos, but he also provides a place to stay when your roommate kicks you out for a hookup.

Warnings: mutual pining, panic attacks, overstimulation, alcohol consumption, college parties, frat boy!danny lol, minor altercation / brief angry sam, hint of forbidden twin?, weed, one bed trope technically?, very soft, enchanted by TS vibes, eventual smut in future parts, 18+ MDNI

A/N; This is my first fic for gvf, pls be kind 🥲 - this is a work of fiction and does not reflect any members of the band or their real lives/actions/etc. - i hope you like it 🥲💞🌸

It was only your 3rd weekend away at university and your extremely extroverted roommate somehow talked you into a frat party. You followed Katie into a massive, bustling house illuminated only by strobe and neon lights. The air was thick and hazy with cigarette and marijuana smoke, making your nose scrunch up at the pungent smell.

She pressed a gentle but firm hand on your back and nudged you forward, not realizing until then that you had been frozen in place.

Katie somehow managed to glide through the crowd effortlessly, skillfully maneuvering without bumping into anyone. She even asked someone for directions to the kitchen, to which they eagerly pointed out the way. It was so foreign to you, the concept of speaking to strangers and receiving such kindness in return so quickly. Perhaps it was her brighter face and friendlier persona that made the difference.

Following the directions from a blonde girl wearing only a bikini, you made your way across the house into a surprisingly spacious kitchen. The room had an unconventional layout, resembling a triangle with an oddly-shaped island at its center.

There were people scooting around the edges of the crowded kitchen trying to reach the liquor bottles and jell-o shots strewn across the counters. Surrounding the ample island were party goers all engaged in a rowdy conversation. You followed their focus to the one commanding their attention and landed on what could quite possibly be the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. Long brunette hair flowed past his shoulders and had a slight wave that framed his face perfectly. Even in the dim light of the kitchen you could make out the sharpness of his features. The air in your lungs seemed to vanish and your ears tuned out the booming laughter and thumping party music. Your chest swelled with a feeling of rampant heart rate and your stomach dropped into a flurry of butterflies. Suddenly, you felt even smaller and more out of place than you’d ever felt perhaps in your entire life.

Your life-of-the-party, sunshiney roommate wrapped her fingers around your wrist and dragged you to the group of people on the opposite side of the island, next to where the stunning man stood. She made it to a tall male in a t-shirt with cropped sleeves, large enough to show his ribs.

“Danny!” Katie exclaimed, getting his attention.

“Oh hey!” He smiled wide as he turned away from the counter to face her. “You made it!”

“Y/N this is Danny,” She gestured to the boy with dark curly hair that was tucked beneath a backwards cap, “I met him at the bookstore yesterday.”

You wondered what sort of magic Katie possessed that allowed her to make friends everywhere she went.

He kept a kind smile on his lips as he waved to you.

“Hey.” You sheepishly smiled and waved back to him.

Your roommate gestured back to you, “Danny this is Y/N.”

He gave you a soft grin before directing his attention back to your roommate. “Did you ever get your textbook situation figured out?”

The party had only grown more unruly in the short time you’d been there. You slunk into the background of the lively kitchen until your hips met the cold counter. You tugged at the pink top Katie had lent to you in an attempt to cover a bit more of your midsection. Not only had she persuaded you to party tonight, she also convinced you to borrow some of her clothes, since yours were too “casual comfy”. She managed to get you into a baby tee paired with a high-waisted white skirt paired with your usual white Converse. You didn’t necessarily feel exposed or vulnerable in the outfit, it was just not your preferred level of comfort.

Loud cheering rang through the house and even though you could tell it was from a distance, the loud sound still made you wince. Almost immediately afterwards, a clearly wasted man in a tank stop shoved his way past you, pushing you into the granite counter. The encounter caused you to tuck your crossed arms even tighter against your body.

“Sam,” Danny spoke over the blaring music to the male that was keeping the group laughing to get his attention. “Sam,” He repeats, though the lanky boy was too caught up in whatever conversation he was in to notice. Danny gently tapped his shoulder which finally got the boy to look over at him. “I’m gonna go find Josh.” He nearly yelled over the music and thumbed over his shoulder towards the living room.

“Okay.” The male nodded in acknowledgment.

Just as his gaze fell from his friend, it landed on you. It was clear that he didn’t expect there to be anything to get his attention as he blinked to do a subtle double take. His eyes flickered over to his friends across from the geometric-shaped island. He snapped right back into the flowing banter like a puzzle piece. The ease of how swiftly he melted back into the conversation reminded you a lot of Katie and her magic socializing powers.

While Katie didn’t originally know the people beside you, it only took for her to ask them to pass the tequila for a friendship to be born and for you to have a mixed drink in your hand. You swirled the contents of your plastic red cup, watching as the ice cubes crashed into each other. It felt as though you’d faded into the background and became one with the cabinets and counters. You weren’t anywhere near as outgoing as her and you knew nobody else at the party. It was just you and the shitty alcoholic punch that was quickly getting watered down in your cup.

“Well, you sure look like you’re having fun.” Spoke a voice from beside you. It wasn’t until then that you realized you had zoned out. Your eyes snapped up to the now half-empty kitchen, and you wonder when it was that everyone cleared out, including your roommate. Finally, you followed the voice and trailed your eyes up to find the long-haired boy from before.

Your cheeks heated up and your gaze immediately dropped back down to your cup. “Oh um, yeah.” You forced a quick smile back up at him. “Having a great time.”

He let out a laugh that was more reminiscent of one someone would offer after a witty joke. “Well that was incredibly convincing.” He said sarcastically although his tone was light and playful.

You could feel the redness spreading on your cheeks getting caught in your (quite obvious) lie. “I just don’t know anyone here.” While it was the truth, it wasn’t exactly the whole reason you were miserable. “Except for my roommate, who,” You sighed and motioned towards where she had stood before. “Disappeared on me.” You let your arm fall to your side in utter defeat.

“Well, let’s fix that.” He said, holding out his hand. “Hi, I’m Sam, I’ve also been known to go by Sammy, Sammy Boy, whatever tickles your fancy really.” He grinned, big and wide, and most importantly, kind .

You offered a small, timid smile back before reaching out and slipping your hand into his. “Y/N.”

His smile only grew as he firmly grasped your hand and gave it a good, firm shake. “An honor to make your acquaintance.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at all his eccentric verbiage. “Nice to meet you too, Sam.”

The alcohol must’ve been hitting your system more than you thought since you probably would’ve barely been able to speak a single word to this man if you had been sober.

“Is this your party?” You asked, trying to cover your bases before talking any more shit about the ensemble.

He laughed hard that time, “Me? In a fraternity? God no.” He shook his head and took a sip of his beer. “It seems like everyone ended up at this party, even you, Wallflower.” He offered a playful smile.

Your cheeks burned hot at the nickname even though it was meant to be comical. “Oh,” You chuckled nervously and your gaze fell back to your red cup. “Parties just aren’t my thing, my roommate just dragged me here.”

“What couldn’t you like about a party like this?” He stepped back and stretched his arms wide. If you weren’t mistaken, his tone sounded half facetious. He smiled then stepped back towards you. “Besides the god-awful music, of course.” He kept his grin as he took a sip from his beer bottle, a lime wedge clunking against the glass walls.

You chuckled at his theatrics, he was quickly becoming one of the most interesting people you’d ever met. “The music isn’t so bad, not really my taste but, it’s not the worst part.” You shrugged. “It’s mainly the people.” Your gaze followed past the boy, through the kitchen arch entrance into the living room where the hoard of college students danced and mingled. “Too many people.”

“You sound like my brother Jake.” He laughed fondly. “He loves to party, but with the right people. That’s why he’s not up here. My other brother though,” He peeked over his shoulder at the party. “He’s in there somewhere having the time of his life right now.”

“And you?” You questioned, turning your face up to him. “Why aren’t you out there?”

The corners of his mouth turned up like it was the easiest thing in the world, like forming a smile was what he was born to do. “Well, because I’m talking to you, silly.” He stated as if it was obvious.

Heat rushed to your cheeks once more. “Oh, well I don’t wanna keep you from your friends.” You shook your head and tried to keep your eyes on him as you spoke but failed and your gaze fell back to the melting ice in your cup. “I’m sure they’re waiting for you.”

“I’m not in a rush.” He replied simply, keeping his focus earnestly on you. “I’m sure that I’m the last thing on their minds right now.” He joked.

“I suppose you’re probably right.” You chuckled and met his eyes.

Suddenly, a visibly wasted frat boy fashioned in a neon green tank top shoved his way between the both of you. The abrasive action not only shoved Sam backwards but also bumped into your cup splashing a bit of drink onto your shirt. You gasped at the unexpected force then hissed at the coldness now spreading across your skin.

Sam set his beer down harshly on the island, hard enough for the glass clank to ring through the small space. “What the fuck man?” His tone was irritated but not quite angry yet, until his eyes noticed the blue alcohol bleeding across your baby pink top.

The boy, who looked like his name was Kyle, drunkenly smirked at the remark, as if irritating Sam seemed like fun to him. “You should be thanking me for getting your girl wet.”

You’d only known Sam all of maybe 30 minutes but you could tell he wasn’t one to pick fights, however you questioned that truth when you watched his brows lower at the male. He stepped towards him with a strongly pointed finger. “Really bold of you to be so disrespectful to someone who could easily get your ass kicked out of here.”

The boy scoffed at him, “Oh what are you gonna do, ban me from every party?” He asksd as if it’s a joke.

“That exactly.” Sam stated calmly though you could tell it was anger he was suppressing. “I know every fucker in this house, all I’ve gotta do is point you out, and boom,” He shrugged casually. “Say goodbye to every party of the year.”

It was obvious that the boy only half believed him but the threat of being exiled from the campus’ largest and most anticipated parties had his eyes widening.

“That’s what I thought.” His arm swung towards the kitchen exit. “Now get the fuck out, and don’t let me see you again.”

He nodded quickly and sped out of the kitchen. When Sam’s gaze returned to you it quickly softened and his hands immediately found your arms to comfort you. “I’m so sorry.” He apologized even though it wasn’t his fault. His eyes landed on your chest though you knew it wasn’t disrespectful. “Here.” He swiftly pivoted behind you to snag the roll of paper towels, snapping off a few squares before dampening them in the metal sink beside you. He brought the dampened pieces and went to help clean your shirt but stopped himself before making contact. His chocolatey eyes snapped up to you with a look of apology. “May I?”

You were stunned by everything that had just occurred so you just nodded. His touches were gentle, patting the colorful stain away. “I’m sorry that happened. I know you just said how you were already overwhelmed with everything.”

You sucked a breath in through your nose trying to steady your breathing, attempting to act normal even though the event overstimulated you enough to border a panic attack. “No it’s okay, I just-“ You closed your eyes and let your chest fall as you exhaled. “This stuff is just, it’s a lot.” You kept your focus off of him feeling somewhat ashamed of it. You’re in college, something so minor at a party shouldn’t bother you, right?

He paused his actions to glance up at you before returning to his work on your shirt. “Don’t apologize. Like I said, my older brother Jake doesn’t like crowds either.” He informed softly, taking extra care to not touch you too much or make you uncomfortable. “I’m used to this.” His shoulders pulled into a shrug.

“Thanks.” You nodded, grateful for his kindness. You allowed a quiet fall between you as you focused on calming down. After a bit of him going back and forth with new paper towels with little success, you sighed looking down at the vibrant blue splotch. “It’s okay, it doesn’t look like it’s gonna come out.”

The edge of his mouth curved into a slight frown knowing that despite his best efforts, you were right. “I’m sorry.” He added the last used paper towel onto the pile beside you. “Hey, let me at least get you a fresh shirt.”

After cleaning up the mess of paper towels, he led you away from the crowd and upstairs to rows of ample bedrooms.

“I thought you weren’t a part of this frat?” You asked as he went directly to a specific door.

“I’m not,” He twisted the doorknob to a surprisingly empty bedroom. The rest of them seemed to be …preoccupied. The room looked like a stereotypical college dorm just in an elaborate fancy house. There were sports posters on each side of the walls above two separate beds, along with soccer and golf gear spread over the floor. It was surprisingly clean but you wondered if that was by design, if it was only clean because they anticipated having company tonight. Without turning the light on, Sam found his way to a wooden dresser and dug through it. You furrowed your brows in confused concern since he just informed you that this was in fact not his room. If you knew him better you’d scold him and ask what he was doing rifling through someone else’s belongings but you held your tongue in favor of curiosity.

The moonlight peering through the window casted a sparkling light across his features. He seemed to glow, the light loved his smooth tan skin, the sharp edges of his face and the honey in his eyes. It felt wrong to ogle at him like he was some Greek sculpture but you couldn’t help it. He was just so beautiful .

You promptly averted your stare when he finally turned back to you and held out a folded shirt flat on two hands like a gift. “That guy your friend was talking to in the kitchen? That’s my best friend Danny.” He smiled fondly, evidently proud of his friendship. “He does live here and so I end up crashing here all the time so, I have some backup clothes.” He tilted his head to the shirt. “It’s clean, you can borrow it for the night if you want.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that crept up to your lips at his gesture. You gently took the rusty brown shirt and thanked him. He led you to the nearest empty bathroom for you to change.

Being alone in a bathroom at a party tended to be a great place to gauge where your head was at so, when you stood in front of the mirror and assessed yourself you noticed a couple things. You looked absolutely ridiculous with the giant blue splotch across your chest. There was a slight warm redness in your cheeks indicated that you were a little tipsy but not enough to numb your fingers or lips. And finally, a fluttering had made home in your tummy and a smitten grin kept threatening to creep across your lips. You wondered if the pink in your cheeks was truly the alcohol or something else entirely.

After you changed into the borrowed shirt, you stepped out of the bathroom to find Sam leaning against the stairway railing mindlessly waiting for you. Once his eyes finally landed on you, the edges of his mouth tugging into a smooth and soft smile. “Ah, it looks great on you!” He exclaimed with an arm stretched out to his side before softly landing on your shoulder.

The warmth in your cheeks worsened at his compliment, which you quickly tried to squash by telling yourself that he’s just being nice. “Thanks.” You replied in a voice smaller than you intended.

If this had been any other night, with anyone else, you would’ve definitely already been on your way home by now, but you couldn’t possibly cheat yourself out of time with the most interesting person you’d ever met. Even so, the idea of going back to the chaos downstairs wasn’t appealing at all.

Almost as if he could read your mind, he straightened up a bit like he’d just thought of an idea. “By chance, do you happen to play pool?”

Your brows furrowed and your head tilted slightly like a confused puppy. “Um, a little, a long time ago. I don’t really remember how though.”

His lips tugged into a wide smile. “Perfect! Let me show you something, follow me.”

Now, it wasn’t your brightest moment, letting a random boy at a party lead you downstairs into a basement but for whatever reason you trusted him. He was far too kind to be devious – besides, what sort of sinister person wears a cream-colored knit sweater to a frat party?

You followed him down some carpeted steps into a brick-lined basement. You looked around the room taking it in fully. While it was still busy with people, the atmosphere was much different. The music was softer, and the chatter wasn’t nearly as loud. The room was full of games, from pool tables to air hockey to darts and even some arcade games. It was accompanied by an espresso-colored leather couch and wooden bar stocked with what looked like every bottle of liquor imaginable. The basement was much more your speed than upstairs would ever be.

Sam must’ve noticed your amazement, giving you a tiny smirk. “Much better, isn’t it?”

“Worlds better.” You grinned up at him in gratitude, though a twinkle of fear sparked in your stomach at the thought that he may just leave you there to rejoin his friends upstairs.

That worry melted away when he was instantly greeted by nearly everyone in the room. You were beginning to learn that he had friends everywhere he went. The only one you recognized was Danny from earlier which surprised you since he seemed like the life of the party earlier and it was his party after all. Next to him stood a shorter boy with long brown hair somewhat reminiscent to Sam’s. In opposition to Sam’s sweater, this boy wore a button down held together only by the last two buttons before being tucked into his jeans. Your eyes couldn’t help but follow the long corded, crystal necklace that laid down his exposed chest. When you heard Sam’s voice beginning introductions, you blinked your eyes up to the mystery boy’s face only to find his eyes already on yours with a smirk. Your cheeks burned in hopes that neither of them noticed your wandering eyes.

“Well you already met Danny, but this is my brother Jake.” Sam grinned introducing him. “Jake this is Y/N, Y/N this is Jake.” He gestured between you both.

Jake smiled at you but you took note of the corner of his lip curling into another smirk. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.” He pulled the pool stick he was using off the table until he stood it up beside him holding it like a staff.

“Hey.” Your lips tugged into a tightlipped smile as you tucked a loose piece of hair behind your ear before waving at him.

Sam then grinned wide and clapped his hands together, startling you a bit. “Okay! Now you said that you don’t know how to play, right?”

“Not really, no.” You shook your head, stepping back to turn towards the vacant pool table parallel to the one Jake and Danny were playing on. Your eyes lingered on the green fabric table top and tugged your bottom lip between your teeth as you realized that you absolutely did not remember how to play.

Sam noticed your lingering apprehension and placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, "Don't worry, it's easy! I'll walk you through it, Wallflower." He said the nickname in a playful manner, poking light fun at your timidness.

Out of the corner of your eye you caught Jake take note of the nickname and it made you wonder why - was it because it was clear why it was your nickname or the fact that Sam had already given you one?

He picked up a pool cue and handed it to you, demonstrating how to hold it properly. "First, you want to get your grip right. Hold it like this," he said, gently taking your hands and positioning them on the cue. His touch was soft but firm, and resembled electricity against your skin.

You tried to mimic his stance, but it felt awkward and unnatural. Sensing your struggle, Sam stepped closer, his chest barely brushing against your back. "Here, let me help you," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. His hands gently adjusted your grip and guided your arm into the correct position. "Now, keep your eye on the ball you're aiming for."

You nodded, trying to focus despite the buzzing in your stomach. Sam's presence was both comforting and extremely nerve-wracking. "Like this?" you asked, lining up your shot.

"Exactly," he confirmed with a large, prideful smile. "Now, just take a deep breath and strike."

You took a breath, steadying your nerves, and struck the cue ball. It rolled smoothly across the table, colliding with the intended target and sending it into a pocket. Your eyes widened in surprise and delight. "I did it!"

Sam laughed, clearly pleased with your success. "See? I told you it was easy."

As you and Sam continued to play, Jake wandered over, with a mischievous grin playing on his lips. "Hey Sam, I got a few pointers to give, don’t you mind?" he asked, already picking up a pool cue before the other answered.

Sam’s tone and deadpanning glare made it obvious that he was used to but far too old for the competitive big brother behavior. "Alright, Jake, let's see what great pointers you got." Sam rolled his eyes already knowing where this was leading but stepped back with a good-natured chuckle to keep peace.

Jake sauntered over, exuding a casual confidence with every step. While he and Sam both oozed confidence, they were much different in their own ways. Sam was self-assured in the way he could be the center of attention in any room by being solely his authentic self. Jake’s composed demeanor was different. He didn’t make himself the center of attention in the room, he just was - you’d barely been in the room 60 seconds before he captivated you.

Jake stood beside you, his presence more imposing than Sam's, but there was a playful glint in his eyes. "Alright, Y/N, let's see how you're holding that cue."

You showed him the way Sam had taught you hold, feeling slightly nervous under his intense gaze. He shook his head, clicking his tongue. "Nah, you've got it wrong. Here, let me show you."

He moved behind you, much like Sam had, but his approach was different. Jake's hands were firmer, his touch more assertive. He adjusted your grip with a practiced ease, his fingers lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. "You need to be more confident with your shot," he said, his voice low and smooth. "Pool is as much about attitude as it is about skill."

Sam watched from a distance, his expression unreadable. You tried to focus on Jake's instructions, but his proximity was a bit overwhelming. "Like this?" you asked, adjusting your stance under his guidance.

"Exactly," Jake replied, his breath warm against the shell of your ear. The sensation alone had goosebumps erupt across your skin. "Now, don't hesitate. Just go for it."

You struck the cue ball, and it collided with the intended target, sending it into a pocket with a satisfying clink. Jake's grin widened. "See? Not bad at all."

You glanced over at Sam across the room, who surprisingly gave you a thumbs up, his smile genuine despite the shift in dynamic. "Nice shot, Y/N!" he called out.

Jake stepped back, leaning against the table with a satisfied look. "Alright, Sammy boy, she's all yours again," he said with a perpetual smirk and a wink in your direction.

Sam rejoined you, his demeanor as warm and patient as ever towards you but you caught him shooting a slight glare over at Jake. "Great job, Y/N. You did so good!" Even though Jake’s proximity had your heart thumping, you were happy to have Sam’s comforting presence back.

Blood rushed to your cheeks at the compliment, “Thanks.” You replied meekly. Between Sam being well, Sam, and Jake’s oddly competitive behavior, you had to admit that you were a tad overwhelmed with it all. Although, it wasn’t necessarily an entirely bad feeling just, a lot for someone who never went out all that much before. It was a lot and your social battery was quickly depleting.

You ended up finishing your rounds with Sam while Jake and Danny continued to play their own game. Every so often you found yourself peeking over at Jake who was cool and focused with a cigar perched between his fingers.

Surprisingly, you won your game but wondered if Sam had let you win. Regardless of whether your success was genuine, it filled you with a rush of accomplishment. If the night hadn’t been so long already you might’ve even initiated another game, but the ache of sleep started to weigh heavy on your bones.

You rounded the table with a smile wider than you’ve had in weeks, thinking that maybe college wouldn’t be as scary as you spent so much time stressing over.

“Thanks for teaching me.” You used both hands to keep the cue in place while you leaned against it tiredly.

“Ah, you were a great student.” He waved away your politeness.

You blinked up at him, finally able to see his face clearly in the better lighting of the basement. He looked even more striking under the warm glow, the soft yellow light highlighting his beautifully sun-kissed skin. His features were defined, with sharp angles and a complexion so smooth it was almost unreal. But the most captivating part of him was undoubtedly his eyes. In that light, they were a mesmerizing shade of dark caramel brown, drawing you in and momentarily distracting you from everything else.

“Oh, um,” Blood rushed to your cheeks, turning them a deep pink. “I don’t think so, but I had a really good time.” For some reason the admission felt vulnerable.

He smiled, “Well, I’m glad. I did too.”

You glanced over to the circular wall clock to find that it was well past 1 am. “Oh my gosh, I didn’t realize it was so late.” You sighed and met Sam’s gaze again. “I really should get going.”

“Oh,” He faltered a bit, “Did you need a ride? I’m sure I could find someone sober around here.” He twisted his body around to check the room for any candidates.

You chuckled and shook your head, setting your cue on the pool table. “No it’s fine, I was just gonna walk.”

“Oh, I can’t let you walk home alone! There’s creeps out there!”

You mulled it over in your head and while you didn’t want to inconvenience him further, he had a point that hadn’t dawned on you yet. “Well, I wouldn’t wanna bother you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, it’s no bother at all.” He gestured towards the exit upstairs. “You ready?”

You nodded and followed him up the stairs. Despite it being so late the party still raged on and kept the house chaotically crowded. Before you could really process an escape route, Sam grabbed your hand and began weaving through the crowd. You knew it was just precautionary and in reality it didn’t mean anything, but the action still filled your tummy with rampant butterflies and your chest with rapid thumping.

Once you were safely on the porch, he released your hand and looked down at you. “You okay?” His brows curved up in concern.

“Yeah.” You nodded with a small smile. It was almost embarrassing how brave you felt after surviving a rowdy frat party.

“Okay good.” The smile he gave you was so sincere it almost made your heart ache. “Which way we headin’?”

“That way.” You pointed to the left where the freshman dorms were located.

“Cool, I live that way too.” He hopped off the porch while you opted for the three steps down he had skipped.

You were both grateful and disappointed for the fact of your dorm was rather close to the party. As much as you craved your bed, it meant the end of this night with him would come sooner and you weren’t sure you were ready for that just yet.

“Don’t take this the wrong way but,” He prefaced a question, “Was that your first college party?”

A gush of warm August wind washed over you, blowing your hair back. You let out an embarrassed chuckle, “Was it that obvious?”

He let out a genuine laugh, “Not necessarily.” He lied, his shoulders pulling into a shrug. “Just a hunch.” He teased in a way you could tell wasn’t meant to be malicious. Even though he couldn’t relate, his words somehow sounded completely understanding.

You fidgeted with your fingers since you didn’t have pockets in your borrowed skirt to shove them in. “You see, I have a history of being dragged to parties.” You joked even though you were exaggerating just a bit, only being ‘dragged’ to maybe 2 large high school parties, 3 if you count the one in middle school. You weren’t a stranger to alcohol or partying though, just preferred it in small, controlled settings with people you knew. “Like I said, I just don’t like strangers.”

“Well, strangers aren’t always bad.” He leaned a little in your direction with a raised brow.

You giggled, “I guess you’re right.” And paused, “Afterall, I met Jake.” You pressed your lips together, trying to stifle a laugh at your own joke.

He stopped dead in his tracks, turning to look at you with a completely deadpan expression and eyes filled with mock disapproval. The sheer dramatics of his reaction shattered your resolve, and you burst into laughter, throwing your head back.

“Ha-ha. Very funny,” he said, rolling his eyes with exaggerated exasperation, a playful smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“I’m jokinggg!” You defended nudging his shoulder and felt better once his smile returned to his lips.

You went to follow him once he resumed on the designated path but stopped short. “Hey, actually this is my dorm.”

He spun on his heels crunching the gravelly asphalt beneath his shoes and pointed up to the brick building. “You live in Lakewood Hall?”

“Yeah?”

“I live in Lakewood too!” He exclaimed in a way you’d never seen someone be so excited over something so mundane. You were certain that he could probably find joy in just about anything life had to offer.

“Really? That’s cool. What floor?” You attempted to remain nonchalant about living in the same dorm as this wonderful man you thought you may never see again.

“3, you?”

“Wait, same! How have I not seen you around?” You asked then began walking towards the keycard protected door.

“I don’t know.” He said, “I guess maybe because like I said I spend most of my time at Danny’s?” As he spoke, he slipped his hand into his back pocket and pulled out a keycard. The door's light blinked green, and the lock clicked open, confirming that he did actually live there too.

Once on your floor, you headed to your door and felt your stomach drop when you spotted a dreaded sock on the handle of your door. Katie must’ve ended up with that tall tattooed boy you’d last seen her dancing with. You let out a defeated sigh, not knowing where else to go at this hour.

Sam laughed and tilted his chin at your door. “Good for your roommate.”

You shook your head, “Yeah good for her, not for me, I have nowhere to go now and it’s like 2 am.” Both anxiety and anger began to fizz in your chest.

“Hey, it’s no big deal, I’m just down the hall.” He pointed in the opposite direction of your room. “You can come chill with me. If you want.” He made it a point to add the last bit, not wanting to push you but definitely looking to spend more time with you.

“Oh no, no.” You shook your head vehemently. “I’ve already bothered you enough tonight, I can’t possibly intrude on your bedtime.”

He laughed hard at that one, “It’s no big deal, I’m a night owl.”

“Well, I-”

He rolled his eyes playfully before getting behind you and grasping your shoulders gently pushing you down the hall. “I’m not leaving you out here alone all night.”

As much as you wanted to protest, just about anything sounded better than sitting alone in the hall for god knows how long.

Once he opened his door and flicked the light on, your eyes widened. It was so much different than Danny’s - most notably the smell. Before the door was even fully open you were smacked in the face with a mix of patchouli incense and weed, each one trying to cancel the other out. He closed the door behind you as you fully took it all in. Aside from the potent smell the first thing you noticed was the two beds pushed together, a clear indicator that he didn’t have a roommate. Next was the giant earth-toned mandala-patterned tapestry that hung above the beds while the wall across the room from it was covered in vintage records and posters of various artists. Unlike the sports gear in Danny’s room, Sam’s floor was littered with instruments, more than you’d ever seen in one room outside of a school band room.

“Whoa.” Was all that managed to tumble from your lips.

“Cool ain’t it?” He stretched his arms out wide with a proud grin. “Got this place all to myself.”

“Lucky.” You muttered, still a bit salty you weren’t lying in your own bed right now. “You play all of these?”

“Yup!” He plopped himself on his double bed. “I’d play something for you now, if it wasn’t so cliche.” He joked.

You wanted to protest but you weren’t about to argue with the keeper of your temporary sanctuary. As you scanned the room once more you noticed a couple things - thumbtacks shoved into every decoration and the bong casually out on his bedside table next to a glass jar full of green. Your brows furrowed, “How do you get away with all this?”

He shrugged with a cocky smile, “I know people.”

“I wish I knew people.” You replied sarcastically.

“Well, ya do now.” The edges of his mouth pulled to a soft, kind grin. It was really beautiful the way his features always seemed to light up any time he smiled.

“You’re right.” You agreed mischievously, walking over to where he sat. “I know Jake.”

His smile fell flat at your joke. “You think you’re so funny huh?”

You giggled, “Yeah, I do.”

His eyes glanced up at your face and lingered there longer than he intended. Now it was his time to study you - not that he hadn’t already been doing that all night but now that you were alone together and he could properly take you in. He cleared his throat when you tilted your head a bit at his stare.

“You wanna smoke?” He offered, gesturing to the glass bong that was poorly fashioned to look like a vase.

You shook your head, “No thanks, I think the alcohol was enough for the night. But you can if you want, I don’t mind.”

Although it was traditionally his bedtime routine, he didn’t mind skipping that night. “No I’m okay, I was just offerin’.” He tilted his head towards an expansive vinyl shelf. “You wanna pick somethin’ to play?”

Normally, Sam was a show-and-tell sort of guy but he was interested in what you’d choose.

You twisted around to the long row of stacked cubicles full of records. As you stepped closer to them and ran your fingers along the spines you noticed they were all weathered with tattered edges. Almost all of the records were older artists, some big names but also some you’d never heard of. You were tempted by the only modern one you spotted being Hozier but it was obvious he wasn’t a fan of newer music and you wondered if this was some sort of test. If it was a lighthearted test, the last thing you wanted to do was seem uncultured by picking the only modern artist you saw. You thought hard about a Fleetwood Mac record but instead, you opted for an Elvis one and spun around to showcase your pick.

“An Elvis fan? Interesting.” He eyed you curiously. “Wouldn’t have initially pegged you for one. But I’m familiar with those too, Josh is a huge fan of the king.” He chuckled, pushing himself off the thin mattress to set it up on his record player. “May I?” He outstretched his hands to take the record from your grasp.

The truth was that your knowledge on music was quite limited to mostly newer artists, except for the names everyone knows. It made you wonder if there was a world that existed where he’d be the one to help you expand your musical palate.

You shrugged, “I just like his music.” Then obliged to his request and handed the record over for him to take it gently.

He carefully removed the black disc from the worn sleeve. “ ‘Aloha from Hawaii’ you know this is a live recording right?” He questioned as he spun the record by the edges with his fingertips.

You playfully rolled your eyes at how naive he assumed you’d be. You stumbled a bit in your turn towards the bed, the alcohol and fatigue starting to weigh you down. Finally, you reached the edge of the bed and plopped down. You watched as he precariously placed the record down and set the needle at its edge. It was a buzz at first before the grand orchestra intro broke through the silence like a punch. “Mhm, I do.” You hummed. “I love old live recordings. I think the banter with the audience is funny. Things were so different then.”

He let out a small chuckle, “You’re so right actually.” He crossed the room to a mini fridge filled with what you saw a glimpse, just a bunch of drinks. “Water?” He plucked a fresh cold one out of the glaring white interior and held it out for you.

“Yes! Thank you!” You let out an excited sigh of relief as the alcohol and exertion had dried up your mouth.

You snatched the water from his grasp and cracked it open before taking a greedy gulp. In the moment, that crisp cool water going down your throat felt like heaven. Your finger tapped your phone screen to illuminate it for the time, it was almost 3 am and you had no messages from your roommate. You sighed and flipped the phone upside down. “Nothing from Katie. Looks like I’m locked out of my room for the night. I don’t wanna intrude on whatever… is going on in there.” You’re focused on the water bottle in your hands, crinkling a bit with your fingers. “I can get out of your hair though, try to find a cheap motel or something.” You anxiously fiddled with your thumbs at the mere idea of doing that.

“Don’t worry about it, really. You can crash here, it’s not a problem.” He said, taking a sip of his own water. “You can even have my bed if you want, I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Oh, oh absolutely not!” You protested, using your arm to slice through the air.

“Then you don’t mind sleeping next to me?” His voice was smoother than silk and it made a buzz fall to your core. You were now regretting your decision to debate his offer. How on earth were you supposed to fall asleep in the same room as him nonetheless beside him.

“Nope, don’t mind!” Your voice coming out squeakier than expected and it brought warmth to your cheeks.

His brows furrowed and perked up a bit at your response before following it with a playful smirk, like he had picked up on your nervousness and found it flattering. “Alright then.”

He pulled open a drawer from his oak dresser and pulled out a stack of clothes before making his way to the small bathroom. When he emerged, his top half was baring his tanned skin while long sweatpants rode low on his exposed hip bones. You couldn’t help your eyes from taking a glance over, then quickly diverting your gaze away to not be caught admiring him.

He tossed his dirty clothes into a half empty hamper and made his way to the bed. He crawled beside you on the other side of the bed, pulling the gray duvet up over his shoulders. Despite he kept his distance, you could still feel the warmth radiating off of him. Against your better judgement, when you finally sunk into the bed you laid facing him since you weren’t ready to knock out just yet. His sheets smelled like cologne, woodsy and herby, similar to the patchouli in the room but with some added notes of bergamot and cedar.

You tucked your hands flat in a prayer position under your cheek, looking at him. His brown eyes were already on you, a hint of surprise in them at your chosen position to face him.

“Thanks for saving me today.” You said quietly, just then noticing that he’d kept the record playing softly in the background.

“It’s no big deal, Wallflower.” He matched your gentle tone with a soft smile. As silly as the nickname was, it didn't stop the swelling in your chest and the flutter in your heart.

“I had a lot of fun tonight.” You added genuinely. Even though you got abandoned at the party and locked out of your dorm, it had been the best night you’d had so far since the semester began.

He chuckled softly, his eyes flickering to your lips before meeting your gaze again. "We'll have to do it again."

You mirrored his glance for a moment, then smiled up at him. "Yeah, I’d really like that."

A comfortable silence settled between you, filled only by the soft music playing in the background. The warmth of his presence and the cozy scent of his sheets made you feel safe and content.

Between the long night and the calmness he brought, your eyelids grow heavy. As you let your eyes give way to slumber, a smile lingered on your lips, the events of the night replaying in your mind. In this unexpected place and with this unexpected person, you found a sense of comfort you hadn't anticipated. And for the first time since starting college, you felt truly excited about what it might bring.

Next Chapter -> 02 - I Can See You