#kind of nervous to post this one 🫣

[glossysoap]

you asked for smut requests so what about könig and pegging 🫣🫣

YESSIRRRR

shiny new toy ; könig

tags: fdom reader, msub könig, possessive f!reader, teasing, massaging & oils, overstim, multiple orgasms, post orgasm torture, double sided dildo/strap, milking könig, kortac and 141 are merged in this fic but it doesn’t play a huge part.

note: german will be in bolded italics, the english translation will be right after that in non bolded italics.

word count: 4,877

It all started when you spotted the new girl recruit talking to König in the mess hall.

Your eyes narrowed as you stared at her from across the cafeteria, glaring at her hand that laid on his shoulder and the way she laughed at every little thing he said, even if he was saying the most mundane thing.

Your grip tightened on your juice box as she kept talking his ear off, yapping like a dog. Ghost, Soap and Gaz were sitting next to you at the lunch table. Soap and Gaz were armwrestling and arguing light heartedly, while Ghost would interject with his own opinion every once in a while.

“Yer gonna burn a whole in her head, lass.” Soap joked while he tried to get the upper hand against Gaz.

“And spill your juice with how hard you’re grippin’ it.” Ghost butts in while still staring at the boys’ arm wrestling match.

“Good, she deserves it. Fucking snake,” You scoffed under your breath, referring to Soap’s comment. “And no, I won’t spill it because,” You sipped the rest of your apple juice until the straw made a scraping sound against the carton, “I finished it, thank you very much.”

Soap snickered at your comment about the recruit. He was distracted the slightest bit, but that gave Gaz the perfect window to pin Soap’s arm against the table, winning the match.

“Fuck!” Soap cursed when he lost and Gaz laughed at him.

You were still glaring holes into the recruit when you witnessed the last straw— her hand trailing away from his shoulder over to his chest. Her hand was splayed over his tight shirt, dangerously close to his pecs.

You clenched your jaw and sucked your teeth before sharply getting up from your seat. You chucked your juice box in the trash can a few feet away and slid your lunch tray to the middle of the table.

“I’ll take the rest of yer food while you kick her arse!” Soap cackled as he reached across the table to snatch the rest of your food.

You waved him off and ignored the rest of 141’s heckling and wolf whistles as you stalked over to where König and the annoying recruit stood.

The second you saw him, you could see how nervous he was around the girl. Not in a good way, like how he was with you, not like butterflies erupting in his stomach when he saw you. It was a bad kind of nervous, one that was due to unwanted attention, one that made his stomach turn and hands shake.

Your hands made fists by your side. This was more than just flirting with your König. This was worse. She was making him feel uncomfortable in the one place he should feel in his element. She was making him feel like a piece of meat.

“Who’s this?” You asked König, not even sparing a glance at him. Instead you opted to stare down the recruit, never breaking eye contact and quirking your brow. Unbeknownst to you though, König felt his nerves relax the second you spoke.

You outranked her in every sense, and she knew it. If not by your uniform or your chest candy, but by your stature alone. The way you held yourself in such a confident air, with your head held high. You sneered at her, nose pointed up as if she was nothing more than gum stuck to your shoe.

A nuisance.

“Hm? What’s your name, private?” You pressed, turning your attention completely away from König. “Callsign? Anything?”

She struggled to find words, avoiding your gaze nervously. She fiddled with her hands and her posture lacked any ounce of confidence.

“Your superior asked you a question. Speak.” You ordered. She flinched at your cold tone before finally stuttering out her name and piss-poor ranking.

“Get out.” You barked. She threw her full tray into the trash before scrambling for the exit.

“My room, now.” You ordered König, stern and leaving no room for discussion, but not with nearly as much malice as you used with the recruit.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You could hear his boots hit the tile floor as he followed eagerly behind you like a lost puppy. You couldn’t see the flustered grin he was wearing behind his mask or the flush red of his cheeks.

The two of you soon reached the elevator that was thankfully empty. You punched in the number to the dormitory floor before turning to face König, who was leaning against the wall of the elevator.

The second that the elevator doors shut, you closed the distance between the two of you and pulled his face down to yours by the bottom of his mask.

“The very fucking second we set foot in my room, I’m ruining you.”

(….)

Before König knew it, he was laid on your king size bed, back against your black satin sheets. Fully stripped, every inch of skin on display for you. He also took off his mask, revealing his sharp jawline, defined cheek bones and full brows. It also revealed his Roman nose and all of the scars that littered his face, that you felt only enhanced his beauty.

When he was bare like this, there was nothing to conceal all of the claims you’ve laid on him. His neck was decorated in bruises and bite marks, all black and blue. He itched to have your mouth on him again.

Red scratches were scattered on his chest, reminders of your nails digging into his skin while you rode him the night before.

He waited patiently as you kicked your shoes off and undressed down to your underwear, lace bra and crotch less panties making his mouth water. He yearned to have you sitting on his face, using him like a throne while he savored your juices.

You kept him waiting, though. Parading around your room in your sexy lingerie, not even sparing him a passing glance while you walked over to your dresser.

“What do you think you deserve today? Hmm?” You hummed, still not even looking at him as you rifled to your dresser. You began pulling out massage oils, one that matched your own (perfume/cologne) scent. Just another casual reminder that he belonged to you, wholly and completely.

“The gag, miss. I think I deserve the gag.” He guessed in a low whine. He guessed wrong, if your scoff was any indication. You turned to look at him for a moment.

“No, no, no. None of your noises will be getting muffled tonight. Not if I have anything to say about it.” You muttered, with a smug lilt to your voice. He gulped.

“No, in fact I think if you wanna let some green-in-the-face recruit follow you around like a sad dog, then that sad dog should get to hear who owns you.”

A moment later, he saw you pull out a dildo. It was black at the base and midway up the shaft, before fading into a bright orange. The mushroom head was a bright red, and it melted into the orange shaft to mimic flames. Metallic gold lines marbled the flames, tapering off as the red faded into orange and orange into black.

König’s bright eyes widened when he noticed the length and girth of the new toy. It was about eight inches long, if he had to guess. He could feel warmth settle in his stomach at the sight of your fingers struggling to wrap around the girth. He felt his own cock begin to throb at the sight.

You held that dildo in one hand while pulling out a different one with the other hand. The new toy was a strap-on, he noticed. It was royal purple colored, with realistic veins trailing the underside of the fake cock. The mushroom head of that one was pretty pink. The straps were black leather, and on each side of the hips were pink bows.

This one was about six inches in length and the girth looked more manageable.

Only something was different about this strap-on. It was double ended with another six inch dildo, so that the person wearing it would have their own dildo, while they were fucking the other person with the outer dildo.

“I think I’ll use a bit of both. Give you some variety, hmm?” You proposed with a sickly sweet smile on your lips. Your eyes are crinkled with excitement to pull him apart from the seams and drink him in.

And drink him in, you did.

Just a few minutes later, König was kneeling on the bed with his wrists tied to the bedposts, with his cock sprung up against his stomach. The head was red and weeping already, leaving a trail of precum staining his happy trail. It stood hard at about seven inches, with a good width to wrap your fingers or lips around.

His skin was all flushed and sweaty, almost a peachy pink. His chest heaved with every breath, pant or needy moan that left his pouty mouth. He was already a sniffling, sensitive mess just from your possessive eyes and the promises of pleasure that fell from your lips.

You were sitting criss cross in front of him with a cruel grin on your face, eyebrows raised in faux surprise. Your eyes trailed up and down his form, admiring every scar, bruise and bulging vein that decorated his body.

He gulped as he felt your gaze heavy on his vulnerable body. He looked down nervously, only to let out a surprised gasp when he’s met with the sight of your wet pussy, fully exposed from your crotch less panties. He tries to look away, to bring his attention back to your face, but he can’t look away from your dripping cunt. Just begging to be eaten, devoured.

He salivates at the sight.

“Someone’s already so excited, look at that.” Your smug tone brings him out of his trance, making his eyes dart back to your face. He couldn’t even register your teasing words before your palm covered the head of his cock.

“Mein liebling!” My darling! He gasps at the sudden contact, bucking his hips into the palm of your hand. Begging for more.

You rubbed your palm over the head a few times before you began to stroke him, slow and languid. With every stroke, your thumb traced the vein on the underside of his cock, making him shudder.

“What did you think of that recruit? She looked so pretty, right?” You asked casually, as if you weren’t holding his throbbing, leaking cock right in your hands. Your movements never ceased as you talked about the girl, if anything your hand began pumping even quicker.

He shook his head with wide eyes and pouty lips.

“Nooo,” He whined.

“Yeah, I think that’s why you’re so hard. I think you like all that attention, baby.” You never let up, never stopped long enough for him to respond. You kept on pumping and pumping.

You squeezed at the base of his cock, pulling a cry from his throat. While you kept pumping him, you used your other hand to squeeze at his sac to feel how full he was.

“Aww, and look at how full you are! All of that cum is for that girl, huh?” You cooed, mocking and sickeningly sweet. Using your thumb to stroke at the sensitive skin of his balls.

“No, no! Only for you!” He babbled as he felt his first orgasm of many build up deep in his stomach, all warm and tight.

“Oh, is that right?” You crooned with a mocking pout on your lips.

“Yes, yes! Only you!” He nodded desperately. His hips bucked into your fist, chasing after his high.

You hummed to yourself as you let go off his sac and instead used that hand to tweak at his pink nipples. His moans echoed through the room along with the wet sounds of his precum coating his length.

“Oh my god!” He exclaimed as he felt the knot in his stomach unravel, ropes of cum spurting from his cock and onto his stomach. His eyes rolled back and his mouth opened in a silent scream as he rode out his high.

You continued stroking him though. Determined to milk out every last drop of his orgasm. You pumped him again and again, milking a bit of his juices out with every pump.

“No, no, no. Too much, too much!” He cried out, hips jerking as you kept torturing his sensitive cock.

“Aw, are you sensitive? Yeah?” You asked, feigning concern.

“Uh huh! Please!” He nodded, brows scrunched and eyes glazed over.

“Please what? Please stop? Or… please more?” You asked, slowing down for a moment to let him speak, or use his safeword if he needed to.

But he never used it. He just whined.

He just whined and bucked his hips into your hand, begging for more.

“Oh? I thought you couldn’t take it? You want more, don’t you? Don’t you?” You crooned, not waiting for a reply before you started pumping him again.

His previous orgasm was coating his cock, creating obscenely wet sounds as your hand fisted his length.

“Yeah, you can take it.” You nodded, coaxing more moans from his panting lips. His tongue was sticking out as you milked him for all he was worth, every last drop. Saliva dropped from his tongue and onto his chin.

You leaned forward and licked the saliva from his chin, licking up till you met his mouth with yours. You stuck your tongue in his mouth, swallowing any of his moans and cries of pleasure that bubbled from his throat as you kept pumping him.

His moans quickly became strung together as he approached another impending orgasm. You smirked against his lips, tasting the saltiness of his sweat mixed with tears that had begun flowing down his cheeks from overstimulation.

“Fuck, Y/N! Ah, fuck!” The cries that left his mouth were borderline pornographic, making you smile at how anyone walking by the room would hear just who he belonged to. They could hear exactly who was reducing the mass of a man into a whimpering, cum soaked mess.

“Oh, I know. It’s just so much. But you can take it, I know you can.” You coo into his ear, before taking his earlobe between your teeth and nipping.

He gasped. You knew he was teetering on the edge of his second orgasm, he just needed a bit of a push. You took your chance to lick up his neck before biting down on his jugular vein, where you could feel his pulse beating erratically.

He choked out a high pitched moan, almost a scream, as his second orgasm came in waves. His hips bucked in tandem with each spurt, over and over and over.

You stroked him through his high, gently this time. Once he came down, you removed your hand from his length and brought your hand to his chin. Tilting his head up to face you, you looked into his fucked out, loopy gaze.

“You doing good? Hm? Say the word and this is all over, you know that right?” You reminded him.

“Doing good, so so good. Please, I want more. I need more.” He begged, sending warmth straight to your core.

“Alright, then.” You grinned, glancing at the two toys from earlier that were laying next to you on the bed.

You reached for the massage oil that was laid with the toys and opened the cap, before squirting some onto his chest. He shivered, the contrast of the cold oil against his warm skin making goosebumps form.

You rubbed the oil into his skin, taking your time and savoring your boyfriends’ muscles. You pressed into any knot you felt, massaging any stress or tension that you came across and melting it away.

You used both hands to trace around his nipples, before rubbing over them with your thumbs. The buds soon hardened under your touch, making him whimper when you started pinching them a bit between your thumb and index finger.

You moved your hands up to his broad shoulders and massaged the oil into those tight, hard muscles. With every press and push of your palm into his skin, he let out pleased sighs, feeling any tension fade away.

“How’s that?” You checked in, wanting to make sure he was comfortable in this small bit of respite you were allowing him.

His pink lips formed a content grin, brows relaxed as he looked at you with hooded eyes.

“Mm, feels good. Always know how to make me feel good, mausi.” Mouse. He praised as he stretched his shoulders, letting out a pleased whine as he did.

You grinned at his words as you squirted some more oil onto his abdomen, letting it drip down into his happy trail. You feigned innocence as some oil “accidentally” dripped onto the head of his sensitive cock.

“Ah!” He choked, the cold oil making his hips jerk.

You rubbed the oil into his v-line, slowly tracing his hip bones and feeling the tickle of his auburn curls at your palm.

You could hear him panting as you ventured closer and closer to his throbbing member.

“What do you want, baby?” You asked, hand moving down past his cock to rub his thick thighs.

He only whined in response, bucking his hips against your hands. You pushed his hips down against the bed, gently but firm enough to keep him still.

“No, no. Use your words.” You order, bringing a hand up to cup his cheeks, making his lips pout.

“Please, schatz. Please touch me!” Darling. He begged, his voice muffled from his cheeks being squished in your grip.

“There’s my good boy.” You cooed, pressing a kiss to his plump, glossy lips. He whimpered into the kiss, all needy and insatiable.

“First, I need to make sure you’re good and prepped for me,” You said, reaching up to untie his restraints so his arms were free. The second his hands were free, his hands went straight to touching you. He grazed your hips, your stomach, and your thighs. Anywhere he could get his hands on before you stopped him.

“Nuh-uh. Hands to yourself, you know the rules.” You reprimand him with a gentle swat to his pawing hands, before getting off of the bed.

“Go ahead and lie down for me.” The second those words left your lips, König scrambled to lay back on the bed, feeling the silky fabric against his skin.

You positioned yourself between his legs and patted your shoulders, directing him to hitch his toned legs over your shoulders. You loved seeing him like this, all fucked out and flushed red for you. Tongue lolling out, brows scrunched and eyes glossed over, pupils blown wide with lust. Spread out perfectly, legs open wide and hole ready to be bred.

You smiled at the sight, stroking his inner thigh so casually as if you weren’t sending tingles straight up his spine right now.

“I’m gonna start getting you stretched out, alright? How are you doing now?” You asked as you pressed a tender kiss to his calf, still staring deep into his ocean eyes. His breath hitched as you licked a stripe on his calf, before sucking a mark into his skin.

“Grün, grün,” Green, green. He breathed eagerly.

“Mmm, I’m glad.” You hummed as you uncapped the bottle of oil once more. You liberally squirted the cold liquid onto your index and middle finger. You gently traced his puckered entrance with your lubed up fingers, letting him get accustomed to the temperature.

You continued tracing his hole for a minute, pressing only the slightest bit of pressure to his entrance. Pouring more oil directly onto your sticky fingers, you teased one finger at his hole. Barely pushing in, just taking your time to get him used to the pressure.

“Fuck,” He gasped.

You used your other hand to wrap around the base of his cock and begin pumping slowly up and down. You watched as his foreskin covered the head of his cock with every upwards stroke.

After gently working him open with just one finger for a few minutes, and pumping his cock with a steady rhythm, you eased a second finger into his entrance. Slowly, sinfully slowly.

He let out a low moan as you thumbed at the slit of his tip, while also wiggling your two fingers the slightest bit.

You spat on his length, pulling a cry from his lips as you watched your saliva drip from the head of his cock down to the base.

You spread the mixture of spit and precum down the shaft of his dick, pumping him faster now.

As you were pumping him, you were scissoring your two fingers inside of him in tandem. Curling and twisting in search of the soft, spongey spot that would make him scream.

When you curled your fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion, it made his breath hitch.

“Yeah, there it is.” You crooned, beginning to piston your fingers at that spot over and over again until his moans strung together to form a scream of pleasure.

One hand pumped and the other fingered until his eyes rolled back and his tongue stuck out, mouth open in a silent scream. He hit his third orgasm of the night, shooting ropes of white cum to his lower abdomen.

“Oh my god!” He shouted as you stroked him and curled your fingers into him, helping him ride out his high.

Once he stopped cumming, you let go of his cock and gently pulled your fingers out of his sopping hole with a ‘pop,’ making him whine at the emptiness.

That emptiness wouldn’t last long, as it turned out, because a few moments later you were already thrusting that flaming orange dildo into his thoroughly prepped entrance.

“Oh, fuck,” He moaned, hands fisting the satin sheets between his fingers. His head was thrown back against the pillow in pleasure, auburn hair strewn across the silk pillowcase.

“Oh, you like that?” You egged him on. You loved asking him questions when you knew full well he couldn’t answer even if he wanted to. He could try, of course, but he would just end up blabbering incoherently.

“Uh-huh! Y’ know I do, pl—,” His pleading was cut off by you thrusting the fake cock at a cruel angle, one that had his eyes widening and hips bouncing down on it.

You kept hitting that new spot as you pistoned the dildo into him, pulling whines and cries from his mouth.

You used your other hand to stroke his soaked cock again, knowing that he only needed a bit more stimulation before he was at his fourth orgasm. With that, you leaned down and put your warm mouth right on the head of his cock with no preamble.

“Oh, fuck!” He shouted as you suckled on his head, hollowing out your cheeks like you were sucking on a lollipop. While you sucked him, you flicked your tongue over his slit.

“You’re gonna make me—,” He cried out before he was cut off by his own quick orgasm. You moaned over the head, sending vibrations through his cock and making his moans even more high pitched.

You drank all of the cum that spurted from his cock, swallowing around him to milk every last drop. Gently and slowly, you pulled the orange cock out of his hole.

When you pulled off of his cock, you looked up at him through your lashes to see him panting, lips red and glossy from drool.

“Do you still want the other toy?” You asked, concerned that he might pass out soon from exhaustion. Your thumb rubbed small circles into his calf that was still hitched over your shoulder, the delicate touch bringing him back to earth.

“Please, please. I need it. Need you to feel good too.” He begged breathily, nodding repeatedly.

“Such a sweet boy.” You cooed, reaching up to ruffle his red, mussed up hair.

You let him have a moment of reprieve as you took your time to prep the last toy. Before you strapped yourself in, you coated the double ended dildos on the strap on with oil. Though you doubted that either of you needed the extra lube, you couldn’t deny that you loved the filthy wet sounds that came with being over-lubricated.

You began strapping yourself in, inserting your end of the strap on into your sopping cunt with a gasp. You could feel his eyes burn holes into you, memorizing your expression as you took a moment to fuck yourself on the dildo. He memorized the way your eyebrows scrunched and mouth gaped open as you panted. He also memorized the way your pussy lip’s absolutely swallowed the toy, sucking it in so tight and almost not letting it go when you moved to pull it out.

After a moment, you had sunk fully on your side of the dildo before tightening the buckles on the sides of the strap on to make sure it was secure.

You positioned yourself in front of König, lowering yourself until his side of the dildo was nearing his abused hole. His knees were still hitched over your shoulders and as you pushed yourself into him, his legs were by his ears — solidifying him in a mating press.

You thrusted into him at a consistent pace, watching his every expression and savoring how his face twisted in pleasure when you hit any new angle.

With every thrust you gave him, you gave yourself at the same time, making you both moan together in harmony.

“Oh fuck! God, you’re fucking me so good!” He shouted, head thrown back.

“Who is? Huh?” You pressed on as you pistoned into him, leaning in so your lace bra brushed his chest.

You wanted to hear it. You wanted to hear who was making him feel so good. Who was fucking him so good, as he’d put it. You needed to hear it.

Grabbing his jaw, you pulled his face close to yours and forced him to look at you.

“Who’s fucking you so good?” You mocked, grinding your hips into him in search of that spot that made him come undone so many times that night.

You pushed his knees against his chest, finding an amazing new, deeper angle to fuck him, and yourself with. With his hole being spread even further, you found that spongey spot even easier.

“You, only you! Oh, fuck—,” He screeched as you abused that soft bundle of nerves, thrusting against it over and over. You were approaching your own high because with every thrust towards him, your own dildo was fucking you without abandon. You wanted him to come right along with you so you reached down to jerk him off at the same time, rapidly pumping his cock.

“Fuck!” Both of you screamed in unison as you you both came, eyes rolled back and mouths hung open in silent screams. You thrusted into him to carry both of you through orgasm as you pulsed around your toy and he squirted more ropes of cum from his length.

(….)

The following day in the mess hall, you walked over to your table without a single shred of doubt or insecurity. Head held high and smug grin on your lips as your eyes cut to the recruit, who now couldn’t stay any further from König if she tried.

Speaking of König, he was currently waiting in the lunch line with his tray in hand, waiting for a scoop of food to be placed on it. He had a slight limp and you noticed how he winced when he took a step.

You couldn’t help it, that only made you even more smug. The fact that he was sore from last nights tryst made pride bloom in your chest, a secret reminder of what the two of you shared.

You set your tray down next to Ghost, who was gossiping talking to Soap and Gaz, just like yesterday. They all nodded to you when you sat down before taking a bite of their food.

Soap was trying to have a conversation with Gaz about training some new privates but he kept noticing the smirk you wore.

“What’s got you so smug?” He asked with a lilt to his tone.

“Yeah, yesterday you were fuming about that new girl. What’s up with that?” Gaz hummed.

“Oh, don’t you worry about that. It’s all taken care of.” You replied, sipping your apple juice casually, as if you weren’t remembering how König came apart from you at least five times last night.

“Oh, I know that look. What did you do to her?” Ghost muttered, though he had to admit, his curiosity was piqued.

“Oh, to her? Nothing. Nothing at all.” You assured.

“Not to.. Oh, I see!” Soap chuckled.

“I did always wonder who wore the pants in your relationship..” Ghost trailed off.

You only laughed.

“Why do you think I can walk right now and he can’t?”

©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission. you can use this work as a scriptfill for gonewildaudios as long as you credit me and link me.

[builtbybrokenbells]

Picasso

after months of silent pining over the boy across the hall, y/n finds herself face to face with the one person she can’t seem to get off her mind. a friendly dinner and a night spent in the art studio leads to more truth being revealed than either bargained for. a profession of attraction leads to an opportunity for an unconventional hookup, where Sam gets to make her first time unforgettable.

COLLEGE DORM AU

Read aftermath here

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 15.5k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it, folks), virgin/virginity talk, losing virginity (sam the v card thief 🫣), praise kink, pet names, sexual anxiety/performance anxiety, soft gentle sex (fuck me up fr), fluff, swearing, anxiety, embarrassing crushes, sorry if I miss any!

😮‍💨 sorry this took so long folks. it’s a lengthy one, so prepare yourself. i got a bit carried away. soft Sam fucks me up real bad. hope you enjoy this as much as i loved writing it!! as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!!

~

You weren’t sure who he was. You had no idea where he was from, what he was studying, or if he even knew you existed. Still, that didn’t seem to stop the awkward staring, or the blushing cheeks, or even the speeding heart rate every time he came into your line of vision. You hated yourself for the uncontrollable longing you felt for the boy across the hall, knowing that you would forever be too nervous to approach first. The first few months of your university experience were relatively normal; meeting friends, studying relentlessly, and trying to navigate a brand new life that was so foreign from the last. Then, after the novelty of freshman year wore off, and the hallways were routinely more empty than you’d grown used to, you started to run into him.

The first time you saw him, you almost missed him. You only noticed the back of his head as he disappeared around the corner. But, almost as if fate was playing a sick trick on you, he happened to forget something in his room. When he came back around the corner, giving you the opportunity to see his face, it felt as though you’d received a punch to the stomach. Thankfully, he was in too much of a rush to notice your staring. His long, brown hair looked messy, yet perfectly styled around his slender face. His jawline was sharp, angled gracefully into a perfect chin. The space just above held his lips, a permanent upturn in the corner adorned on them, although barely noticeable in passing. His brown eyes looked inviting, a colour you could spend all day lost in. Once he passed you, you knew it was too late; you’d already fallen for him, and there was no escape.

Perhaps it was because you came from a small town, one where all of the boys looked like the same person, just in a different font. You’d never met a boy who caught your eye quite like he did. He had a charming aura without even speaking, which was impossible to attain, according to your standards. You never really wasted time on dating, more or less finding it pointless. You were well aware there was no person to find in your town that would work out long-term. You were never a date for heartbreak type, understanding that there was no need of having a relationship if you start it with a pre-existing condition that it will inevitably end. You had a few bad experiences with the boys you’d given a chance, and never tried again. It wasn’t worth the hurt, or the trouble, so you kept to yourself. But, whatever it was about the boy across the hall, you were certain if you ever got the chance, you’d want it to last a lifetime.

After the initial shock of seeing him, you seemed to notice him everywhere. Every time you left your room, his door was open, or he was in the hallway talking to his friends. He was always running into you at meal hall, taking post in your favourite spots in the library, and even in some of your classes. You had no idea how you’d gone so long without noticing him, because now, he never ceased to exist in your mind and your life. You’d never managed to get the nerve to speak with him, or even muster a wave when he passed by. The most the two of you shared was a smile each morning; which admittedly, made your day a whole lot better every time. As unfortunate as it was, the two of you had mastered the art of remaining strangers despite the constant desire to be more.

You never verbalized your feelings to anyone, not your friends, or even yourself. You thought it was a bit ridiculous to be infatuated with someone solely based on looks. Yet, you found yourself creating a fabricated version of him, one that you deducted based on what you noticed over the passing weeks. One where he was funny, in a sarcastic or a goofy type of way. One where he was very laid back, but very involved in the lives of the people he loved. And the worst one of all; one where he was fantastic in bed. You thought it was alright to daydream, even if you would never know for certain in this lifetime.

Despite your mostly quiet pining, everybody around you was well aware of how you felt about mystery boy. Your friends seemed to take extra measures to point him out in a public setting, or ‘unintentionally’ cross paths with him. They never admitted it, but you knew what they were doing. Instead of fighting about it, which would only give them the answer they so desperately wanted from you, you laughed alongside them at the ‘strange coincidences’. Although, one thing inherently positive that came from the whole ordeal, was that you’d made acquaintance’s with his best friend, Danny. You’d found out that he was also in a few of your classes, and lived on the floor above you.

He occasionally stopped by your room for a quick chat, or some help with projects. He was friendly, and tall, and quite attractive, too. You never mentioned his friend that lived across the hall, and he didn’t, either. As far as you were concerned, your friendship with Danny would remain just as such, with no hidden implications about the beautiful boy he spent most his time with. Never once would you ever want to make him feel like you’d become friends with him just to get closer to his best friend, because you didn’t. Any hello, or how are you, or any of the conversations you’d shared had always been because you wanted to talk to him. You liked him, and just so happened to find it much easier to strike conversations with him, too.

You walked down the hallway, pushing your way through the swarms of people preparing to leave for spring break. That Friday marked the end of classes for a week, meaning that lots of people were either packing up to return home for a few days, or headed somewhere much warmer to drink themselves into oblivion. You had opted to stay for the week, finding no real desire to visit your family, and having no available funds to travel the world. All of your friends were leaving, presenting a fantastic opportunity for you to catch up on some schoolwork. You keyed into your room, dropping your bag on your bed and kicking your shoes off. You threw on your slippers and took your hair down from its clip.

You walked into your bathroom, seeing a note stuck on the mirror. You pulled it off, reading over the scribbled words. Your suite mate had left for the week, wishing you a good time and telling you she’d see you soon. You smiled, slipping it into your pocket to add to your collection of first-year memorabilia. You had an elaborate final project planned for your introductory art class, and you were collecting as many pieces to add to it as possible, wanting nothing more than to make a showstopper. You fixed your makeup in the mirror and combed through your hair with your fingers, trying to sharpen yourself up after a long day of classes. As you returned to your room, you heard a knock on your door.

When you opened it, you saw a familiar, smiling face. “Well hello.” You said, pulling the door open fully.

“Hey, Picasso.” Danny greeted. “What are you up to?”

“Just got back, actually. I stayed late at the studio. Trying to get my practical piece done for my painting class.”

“I see. Have you started the essay for poetry?” You shook your head, stomach sinking at the thought.

“I was going to start that this weekend. I just picked my topic. I’ve got a couple years worth of Shakespeare sonnets to read.” Danny was an English major, and you were an arts major, but your classes seemed to cross due to your minor in writing.

“That’s such a cop out topic,” He teased, leaning against the door frame. “And it’s spring break, aren’t you supposed to be having fun?”

“Fuck you.” You laughed, waving your hand to invite him inside. “Spring break is only fun for rich kids taking business majors.” You joked.

“Us arts kids know how to have fun, too, you know. We don’t have to get on a plane to do that.” He reminded you, walking inside and taking a seat on your bed.

“Well, what about you, then? Any big plans?”

“Frankenmuth.” He said, trying to make it sound more exciting than it was. You raised an eyebrow at him, expecting something more to the statement, but that was all he said.

“Enthralling.” You laughed, taking a seat in your desk chair. You watched the people pass by in the hallway, no real thoughts in your head. “Just you going?” You asked, eyes falling on the door closed just across from yours.

“Yeah, my friends are gonna stay here. Just thought I’d go back and visit the parents for a few days. Don’t think I’m staying the whole week.”

“Nothing wrong with that, Danny boy.” You said, flipping your laptop open that was sitting on your desk. “When are you leaving?”

“Tonight, probably. I like driving at night.” You were okay with that, completely agreeing with his statement. There was something very peaceful about driving in the dark, especially when the roads are mostly barren. It was almost like time stood still. You knew the drive wasn’t too long for him, so you had faith he would be alright. “That’s why I came to see you.”

“You’re so sweet,” you grinned, opening Netflix and throwing on the most recently watched show. “Gonna miss me?”

“Of course, Picasso.” He said as if it were obvious. “Come with me, if you want.” He offered.

“You wouldn’t want me to tag along, your parents might like me too much.” He laughed at your words.

“And that’s a problem?”

“You wanna listen to them ask about me for the rest of your life?” You teased.

“Doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.” He shrugged.

“You’re too nice for your own good.” You chuckled. “As much as I would love to spend reading week with you, I very much need access to an art studio and shitty, free coffee refills from the library.”

“I know,” he assured you. “If you change your mind, offers there.”

“Thanks, Danny.” You said, more sincerity in your tone than before.

“The reason I came down here though, was to see if you wanted to grab dinner with us before I leave.”

“Us?” You questioned, cocking your head to the side.

“Yeah, me and Sam. I know you told me your friends already left, so I thought maybe you’d like some company.”

“Oh, so it’s a pity invite?” You smirked. He rolled his eyes.

“No, I want you to come. Thought that was kind of obvious.”

“Just pulling your leg.” You assured him. “Uh, who’s Sam?” You laughed, feeling a little ridiculous for not knowing. He watched you with confusion, waiting to see if you were joking.

“Sam? Kiszka? Like, the guy who lives across the hall?” He asked, completely baffled. “You don’t know Sam?”

“Oh!” Your cheeks turned crimson. “Yeah, I know who he is. That’s your best friend, right?” Danny nodded. “Yeah, I know him. Just didn’t know his name. Never really spoke to the guy.” You laughed, trying to pass off the awkwardness.

“Fuck, y/n, I thought you guys knew each other! I’m sorry I didn’t introduce him to you.”

“No! Don’t be sorry, Danny.” You waved it off. “I never brought it up, either.”

“That’s weird though, cause he definitely knows you. He knew who you were when I mentioned we were working together on that last poetry assignment. I was under the impression that you guys were neighbourly.” He shrugged, confusion still lingering in his features.

“Oh, uh… I guess my names on my whiteboard. Maybe that’s why. He’s definitely seen me around. We smile at each other and stuff in the halls, but that’s about it.” Danny eyed you almost as if he didn’t believe you.

“Well, he seems pretty fond of you for someone he only smiles at in the hallway.” You felt the blush rise to your cheeks again, embarrassed even at the thought of him mentioning your name. “You do know him, don’t you?”

“No, I swear I’m telling you the truth.” You raised your hands in defence. He watched you, scanning your face for a hint of a lie. After a second, his expression lit up.

“You have a crush on him!” He bellowed, feeling accomplished for finally solving the mystery. Your head whipped to the open door, making sure nobody was in the hallway.

“Shut up!” You hissed, making a move to shut the door. “I do not!” You said once you protected the privacy.

“That’s a lie, Picasso.” He let out a disapproving tsk.

“I don’t even know the guy.” You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, he’s attractive, but I can’t exactly like someone I don’t know.”

“Sure you can, and you do.” He grinned. “And you’ll like him even more after dinner tonight.” He decided.

“So now I don’t have a choice if I go or not?”

“No, not at all. I’ll leave you to get ready. He should be back around 6.” Danny stood, not willing to hear any protests.

“Danny, if you say anything to him, I swear to god I will kill-“

“Lips are sealed, Picasso. See you at six.” He sent you a wink before disappearing out the door. You felt your stomach twist in knots, nervous that Danny was going to mention something to him.

You distracted yourself by scouring your closet for something acceptable to wear. You cursed him for leaving so soon; he didn’t even tell you where you were going. You had no idea if you should dress nice, or casual. As you checked the time, you decided that somewhere in the middle would be suitable. A nice shirt and a pair of black jeans, just to dress it down a bit. You went to the bathroom and quickly ran your curling iron through your hair with no real effort, just to give it a bit of volume. You brushed your teeth and touched up your makeup again, spritzing on some perfume before you walked back to your room. You threw on some jewelry, deciding if you were going to properly meet mystery boy, or Sam, rather, you were going to make a good first impression.

When the clock struck six, there was an insistent knock on your door. When you opened it, Danny was beaming down at you once more. “You clean up good, Picasso.” He complimented. Rarely did he ever see you out of your studio clothes; you were always covered in paint, or plaster, or some other sort of artistic expression. You spent more time in the studio than you did anywhere else. Of course, the workload was heavy even for first year, but you spent a lot of free time there, too. It was great for your mental health, and aside from your projects, you made smaller pieces to sell on the side. Unlimited access to art tools was a huge benefit to going to the university you chose, and your talent allowed you to make some extra money. Making a living off something you loved to do made your university experience a million times better.

“Thanks, Daniel.” You laughed. “Ready to go?” You asked.

“Yeah, you?” You nodded. You threw on a denim jacket, finishing off the outfit. You joined Danny in the hall, looking around to spot Sam. When you didn’t see him, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment.

“Where are we going?” You asked, distracting yourself from the feeling.

“There’s this little Italian restaurant downtown. I’ve been meaning to try it, but never got around to it. Figured tonight was as good as any other night. Is that cool with you?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m not picky.” You assured him.

“Awesome.” He breathed, making a move to the other side of the hallway. He stood before Sam’s door, sending a knock echoing through the air. Within a few seconds, the door swung open to reveal the boy you couldn’t seem to get out of your head. His hair was slightly damp, and the smell of his shampoo hit you almost instantly. He pointed at you without a word, causing you to shoot him a nervous look. He got a small laugh at your reaction.

“You copied my outfit.” He accused, a goofy smile etched onto his expression. You looked down at what you were wearing, then back to him. You were both wearing Jean jackets with a black base layer. After a second, you laughed, too.

“Guess so.” You shrugged, trying to ignore the incessant butterflies running rampant in your stomach. “I’m y/n,” you held a hand out to shake.

“Sam.” He said, reciprocating the gesture. “I guess we’ve never properly introduced ourselves.” He noted.

“Not very neighbourly of us, was it?” You chuckled. His eyes lingered over you, taking in the whole sight before humming an agreement. You desperately tried to fight away the blush rising to your cheeks, but failed miserably. You hoped he didn’t notice.

“I hear from Daniel that you’re quite the artist.” He said, the smile never leaving his face. At his words, the redness on your cheeks completely took over, leaving no doubt that he could see it.

“Modern day Picasso, actually.” Danny corrected.

“You’ll have to show me, sometime.” Sam’s tone was soft, no tone of sarcasm present.

“Maybe I can sneak you into the studio someday.” You offered.

“It’s a date, then.” He said it so effortlessly, like the words meant nothing, but it set every nerve in your body on fire.

“G-guess so,” you tried to cover up your stutter, but they certainly noticed. You were thankful they didn’t comment on it. Sam stepped into the hallway, closing his door behind him. The three of you ventured towards the exit of the building without another word.

The evening was cool, but not unbearable. By the time you’d walked to the restaurant, you had managed to shake some of the nervousness off. The small chatter and jokes eased the tension by miles, allowing you to enjoy the company rather than fear embarrassment. Danny went inside first, Sam holding the door open for both of you. You muttered a small thank you, disappearing inside of the building. The smell of the food was fantastic, and the decoration and atmosphere was incredibly inviting. Danny noticed a ‘seat yourself’ sign, taking it open himself to lead the group to a booth. He slid in one side and you sat across from him. Sam looked between the two seats, ultimately deciding to sit next to you. The booth was tiny, and as he settled and got comfortable, his leg was gently resting against yours. You felt your heart speed, trying not to focus on the constant contact.

You all ordered after taking a good look over the menu. As you were waiting, Sam turned to you to speak. “So, Picasso,” he started. You turned your head to look at him, strangely pleased at the way the nickname sounded on his tongue. “Any travel plans for the week?”

“Oh, no.” You shook your head. “Love them, but my family drives me crazy, and I have too much work to get done to go anywhere else.” You admitted. “You?”

“No, I thought it was best to stay, too. I get what you mean about the family thing. Love them to death, but peace and quiet is nice, sometimes.” He chuckled. “Daniel will have to go on the journey alone.”

“So you guys are from the same town?” You looked between the two. They both nodded.

“Yeah, best friends since, what, middle school?” Danny laughed.

“Pretty much.” Sam agreed.

“That’s cool, actually. Nice that you guys have a piece of home here with you.”

“What about you? Any piece of home here?” You shook your head.

“No, and thank god there isn’t. Wanted to get the hell out of my hometown and start over. It’s worked so far.” You explained.

“Where are you from?” Sam asked, now intrigued.

“Arizona. Small town in the middle of nowhere, where everybody looks and acts the same and you get chastised if you’re any different.”

“Mind-numbing.” He replied. You nodded, unable to agree more. “Everybody needs originality.”

“Not them, apparently. I couldn’t wait to leave, and I never want to go back.” You almost shuddered at the thought.

“So where after this?” Sam never let his eyes leave you, as if he wanted to engrave every detail of your face in his mind.

“Uh, wherever, I guess. I haven’t really thought about it. I may travel for a while if I can before I commit to anywhere.”

“Smart woman,” he gave a small smile. “Know your options before you settle down.”

“Yeah, I suppose you could look at it that way.” Your conversation was interrupted by the waitress bringing drinks and setting them in front of you. You sipped from your straw, pondering what to speak about, next. “What are you taking, Sam?” You suddenly remembered you hadn’t asked him, yet.

“Oh, music theory.” He said. You eyed him in shock, not expecting that answer.

“What instrument?”

“Piano, on the paper at least.” He laughed. “I like playing bass and guitar more, but I figured they’d be more likely to accept me with piano as my focus.”

“Smart move.” You pondered the information for a moment. “Listen to this one,” you caught both of their attention. “So, Picasso, Shakespeare and Billy Joel walk into an Italian restaurant,” you started, causing a chorus of laughter from both boys.

“You play a piano once and you can never escape the Billy Joel jokes.” Sam shook his head, ghost of a laugh still lingering on his lips. You couldn’t help but admire him, feeling the overwhelming curiosity of wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

“You’ll be alright, piano man.” Danny assured him.

“Yeah, you can even sing us a song, if you want. That might make you feel better.” He shot you a look of warning, but there was visible humour laced in it. The both of you were feeling the nervous tension melt away more by the second.

The time passed too quickly for your liking; the meal was fantastic and the company was even better. When the time to leave came around, you were begging the clock just for another minute. You had spent the whole night beating yourself up for not getting over your fear and speaking with Sam sooner. Aside from him being incredibly attractive, he was funny, and charming, and quite sweet, too. You felt like you’d missed out on a lot. Even if nothing romantic happened, you’d could consider yourself content just being his friend. When the waitress brought the bills over, Sam took it upon himself to ensure you couldn’t get your hands on the debit machine. As you all filtered back outside into the cool night air, your feeling of nervousness returned. Looking at Sam, how the glow from the street lights casted over his face, how his hair flowed in solidarity, messy but perfect all in one, made you realize that knowing him only made the desire so much stronger.

Somewhere deep down you hoped he was an asshole, so you could finally shake the hopeless feeling of need for him. The more you talked to him, the more you fell for the goofiness of his aura, the humour he wore so proudly, or the kindness permanently anchored behind his words. He was more than just a pretty face, and to you, it was devastating. The last thing you wanted was to fall for someone, but you were well aware that it had happened long before your night of pasta critique. “You headed back to dorm?” Sam asked, his hand on your upper arm breaking you from your thoughts. You swallowed hard, trying to shake off your brains’ incessant reminders of what it felt like to be touched by him.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“I’m headed out, now, I think.” Danny said, looking between the two of you. “Packed the car earlier, so I should hit the road.”

“Oh,” you breathed, trying to keep your eyes on him, and him only. “Which lot are you parked in?”

“The one by our building. I’ll walk back with you guys.” You nodded at his words, feeling a sudden rush of relief knowing you wouldn’t have to walk alone with Sam. Not that you would mind being alone with him, more of a fear of embarrassing yourself somehow. The three of you started the short walk with few words exchanged in the process. When you reached the entrance to the parking lot, you all stopped to bid a farewell.

Danny pulled you into a quick hug, thanking you for going to dinner. He hugged Sam, letting him know he’d text him when he was back home. “Might text for poetry help.” You smiled at him.

“You could text me just to say hi, too, you know.” Danny reminded.

“That is my way of saying hi.” You laughed. “Too nervous to be upfront.”

“No need for that, Picasso. I’ll see you guys soon.” He promised. You and Sam waved goodbye as he parted from the trio, leaving the two of you to yourselves. You kept your eyes glued to the ground, wanting to look anywhere other than his beautiful face.

“You have anywhere to be?” Sam eventually spoke. You found the courage to meet his eyes, feeling the butterflies erupt in your stomach once more.

“I was thinking about heading to the studio, actually.” You very much enjoyed your 24/7 access to the art building. It made your usually boring weekends a bit more enjoyable.

“Care for some company?” He smiled.

“You trying to get me in trouble, piano man?” You smirked.

“Nobody will ever know I was there.” He promised. You pondered the idea, realizing that it was more than likely nobody would be there, anyway. It was usually quite barren in the evenings, even more so considering the week-long holiday.

“Okay.” You nodded, holding your hand out for him to grab. “Come on.” He wasted no time slipping his hand into yours. You took off in a run back to the dorm with him following closely behind. You both made it to the front entrance of the building, keying in and immediately running to your rooms. “I just have to change.” You told him before disappearing into your room. You quickly changed into your work clothes, realizing how embarrassing the new outfit was. There was old paint stains on the t-shirt and jeans, years worth of artistic memories begging to be washed away. You didn’t waste too much time dwelling, too eager to be back in Sam’s company.

You were nervous to be alone with him, but the thrill of seclusion with him was overshadowing anything else. You thought maybe you’d be able to unravel some of the mystery, to get a chance to hear about his stories and memories that were hidden away. When you went back into the hallway, Sam was waiting for you. He had also changed into different clothes, a pair of sweatpants and a tattered old band shirt with the logo worn down to just a shadow. He had a sly smile graced his lips. “Ready?” You breathed. He gave a nod, silently hoping you’d reach out for his hand again. When you started walking down the hall, he followed after you, only momentary disappointment taking over.

You walked side by side to the art building, buzzing with unspoken excitement. When you reached the doorway, you scanned your access card on the reader and the lock clicked open. As you pulled on the handle, you looked back at him and pressed a finger to your lips, signalling for him to stay quiet, just in case anyone else was around. Regular students were allowed in the art building during office hours, but art students were the only ones granted access outside of normal school times. You were sure you’d only get a slap on the wrist if someone realized he wasn’t an art student, but you still didn’t want to take the chance. He nodded, ensuring he wouldn’t make a peep. You took his hand again, leading him inside and directly to the stairwell to the basement.

You took a sigh of relief when you let the studio door close behind you. You went right to your small locker where you stored your paint supplies and brushes. You unlocked it with a tiny key you kept around your neck. You pulled out your belongings, nodding Sam in the direction of the main room. The bright fluorescent lights were nothing new to you, but it seemed like it almost caught him off guard. You set your stuff down on a desk and grabbed an easel, carrying it over to where you were planning to sit. “I’ll be right back.” You told him, walking off to a side room. You opened the door, flicking the light on in the small storage space. You grabbed your large canvas, careful not to bump the front of it, worried it still may not have completely dried. You took it back out to the main room and propped it up on the easel, pulling a stool in front of it.

Sam moved a second chair over, sitting beside you. His eyes drifted over the artwork, scanning it intently and drinking up every detail like he needed it to survive. “I see why Danny calls you Picasso, now.” He mumbled, still looking over all of the details. You felt the redness creep up on your cheeks again, flattered at his compliment. “This place anything special to you, or just a stock photo?” There was a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Well, the cabin is. It’s my family’s. We spent a lot of time up there when I was a kid. The background is pretty dramatized, cause my inspiration pictures were a little bland.” You chuckled. “We’ve been working on landscapes, so I figured I would paint something meaningful.” The large oil painting had the image of the aforementioned cabin nestled in a plot of trees. The leaves were radiating the colours of autumn, and the neutral mountains in the background made the colours stand out. A small stream flowed through the mountain valley, and birds floated through the air. There were patches of flowery grass and bushes covering the ground. The outline was finished, and you’d been working on the intimate details of the piece. You were estimating only a few more hours of work, eager to have this finished so you could move on to the next project.

“It’s stunning.” He said, moving back to look at you again.

“Thanks,” your voice was soft, full of gratitude.

“Have you always wanted to be an artist?” He asked. You thought about the question, pondering the appropriate answer.

“I always loved art, but don’t think I actually decided to study it until late into high school. I never thought I’d be able to make it, but then I entered a few contests and won, and I guess it kind of kick started the process of getting here. At first, my parents weren’t super supportive of the idea. I think they’d rather me be a doctor or a lawyer, but they knew it would only make me miserable. Now that they see what I’m doing, and how happy it makes me, they’re a bit more on board. Their encouragement really helped me feel like I was supposed to be here.” You explained. “Deep down, I probably always knew I would do art for a living, but I fought it for a long time. It’s not really regarded as a ‘profession’, and I think that discouraged me for a long time.”

“Don’t ever feel that way again.” He shook his head, looking back towards the canvas. “Someone with talent like this should never second guess themselves.” You swallowed hard, having a difficult time digesting such a compliment. “This is the type of stuff to end up in galleries.”

“You’ll have to let me design your album art when you release your EP, then.” You smiled.

“You haven’t even heard me play yet.” He brushed the comment off, a small laugh lingering in his words.

“Don’t have to, I just know.” You said, pulling out your glass palate. You sifted through your bag of paints, choosing the colours carefully. You squeezed small amounts on the surface, looking back towards the large painting. You started to work, unsure of where the conversation would lead to next.

“What music do you like?” He asked, watching your hands as you painted.

“Everything.” You said, never losing your focus. “Not picky.”

“You have to have a favourite.” He inquired. A smile tugged at your lips.

“Well, yeah.” You rolled your eyes.

“What is it, then?” He laughed, eyes moving to your face.

“Guess.” You thought if he wanted to get to know you, he could work for it, first. At least a little bit.

“You’re a classical person, aren’t you?” You looked at him through the corner of your eyes, furrowing your eyebrows slightly.

“Insulting,” you replied. “You think I’m that boring?” You teased.

“Worth a shot.” He shrugged. “Rock?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I like metal, too, but I mostly stick with rock.”

“Never would have guessed the metal part.” His surprise was showing in his expression.

“Yeah, well, I have lots of tricks up my sleeve.” You chuckled, wiping your brush on your apron.

“Can’t wait to figure them out.” His words were smooth, concise, even, as if he was waiting to deliver the line the whole night. Your stomach fluttered with the thought of him wanting to know more about you. You both fell into a silence, eventually playing music off your phone to fill the stale air. You were fine without words exchanged; you enjoyed him sitting with you while you worked. He didn’t seem to mind either, enthralled in your technique. “What’s your favourite thing to paint?” He eventually disturbed the quiet.

“I like nature. It’s always so calming to recreate. So many different options, and imperfections don’t cause an issue, because nature isn’t perfect. I think that’s what makes it beautiful.” You explained. He nodded along, hoping you would keep talking. You noticed, feeling less reserved about your ramblings, realizing you wanted to share them with him. “Nature is the only constant. It was here from the beginning, and it will be here long after we die, even if it’s changed million times. It carries infinite memories from every era, and it’s our only consistency in this lifetime, and the ones previous. I like the idea of a timeless art piece. If someone looks at this a hundred years from now, they’ll be able to appreciate it the same way we can. Nobody will have to wonder about the origins of the picture. People die, animals pass, but the earth always outlives us. When the day comes and it dies, too, we go with it.” He nodded again, studying your face. He had been for a while, although you hadn’t really noticed. He was watching the way your eyes focused when you were doing delicate work, or how your lips pursed when your brush wasn’t doing exactly what you wanted it to. He also noticed every time you let out a minuscule sigh, content with the flow of the paint, or when you smiled when a familiar song came on the shuffle. He’d been studying you just as much as you did, him, admiring you just the same. He was enthralled in your presence, also never expecting to have you this close to him.

The art of your silent admiration had left little room for belief of a chance for it to happen so intimately. He was basking in the moment, in you. The smell of the paint and your perfume was embedding the memory in his brain forever. The beauty in your passion was electrifying, and he was certain he could watch it all day. He also felt the same when he passed you in the hallways, and caught himself peeking into your room when you had the door open. He felt the same fluster when you smiled at him, and awaited the conversations when Danny spoke your name. He also struggled with the idea of talking to you first, worried about rejection or embarrassment. From what he’d seen, you never showed an inkling of interest, and he didn’t want to come off in the wrong way. When Danny brought the idea of inviting you to dinner, he nearly jumped at the opportunity. Sam’s feelings had also remained quite silent, although his childhood best friend was quick to catch on to the situation. Now with a promise to both of you that your emotions would be kept a secret, it was up to both of you to figure things out. All Danny could do was cheer you on from both sides. “You’ve got a beautiful way of seeing the world.” He noted.

“If you don’t love the earth, you can’t expect it to love you back.” You said, finally turning to look over at him. You were caught off guard at his proximity, noticing he had definitely moved closer since you’d started working. He was sitting a little ahead of you, but his body was turned to be angled towards you. When he caught your surprised look, he gave a small smile.

“I thought you wanted to come and see the art, Sam.” You teased, finding the confidence to make a quick pass about his position.

“I’m looking at it.” He quipped back without a moment of hesitation. You opened your mouth to reply, but couldn’t find any words, flustered at the proclamation. Without another word, he turned to look back at the canvas, leaving you to wonder if his words were satire, or if they had meaning. You took a few seconds to recover, but ultimately pushed the statement to the back of your mind. You continued on, dabbing blots of paint onto the picture and blending it gently. “You know, if you’re looking for a customer, I’d be happy to take this off your hands when you’re finished.”

“You couldn’t afford me, Kiszka.” You joked, using the tip of your finger to get a better blend on a saturated area. You fixed it up with a brush afterwards.

“You think so?” He hummed, not bothering to turn and face you.

“I know so.” You told him, wiping your hand on the apron. You weren’t sure if it was the months of tension catching up to you, or the exhaustion, or the smell of his cologne, but you were desperate for him to turn and face you again. “If you want it, it’s yours.” You breathed, deciding to drop the facade. “Once it’s graded, I have nowhere to put it.”

“How much do you want for it?” He asked, still facing away from you.

“Free, for you.” You said softly, a smile creeping up on you.

“Absolutely not.” He turned now, finally meeting your eyes. “You worked hard on it, you used your own materials. I’m giving you something for it.” He said, finality dripping in his tone. You couldn’t help but shift under his gaze, the authority sending a pleasant jolt of electricity through you.

“Think of it as a token of friendship.” You whispered, unable to stop yourself from looking over his features. The admiration in your eyes was impossible to overlook.

“Friendship?” He questioned after a moment of silence, a new sense of confidence washing over him. “Ouch,” he said, the same cocky smirk playing on the corner of his mouth. You bit the inside of your lip, feeling your breath catch in your throat. You weren’t so willing to fall for the idea that he may have felt the same way. Instead of turning away, he watched you, hoping you’d make a notion of reciprocation. After the shock wore off, you started to understand that he was being serious.

“Courtship?” You corrected yourself, feeling your heart drumming against your chest.

“I think I like that better,” he whispered, eyes falling down to your lips for a second before correcting himself. “Do you?”

“I certainly don’t have an issue with it.” You admitted. He watched you carefully, almost as if he was nervous to advance the situation any further. After a moment of deliberation, he reached his hand up and cupped your cheek, using his thumb to wipe off a smudge of paint.

“Some paint,” he informed you.

“Oh,” you breathed, eyes never leaving him. “Did you get it all?” He inspected further, tucking some hair behind your ear as he did so.

“Mm, I think I missed a spot.” He deducted. You set your palate and brush on the table, not wanting to miss a moment of him. He advanced further, but only slightly, pretending to look harder. You couldn’t fight back a smile. “Want me to get it?” He looked back up at your eyes, hand never moving from your cheek.

“Okay,” you nodded, playing into his act.

“You sure?” He asked again, mostly to tease, but he also wanted to ensure you were comfortable.

“Positive.” You promised. Without wasting any more time, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours.

It was soft, but his lips felt like they were burning into your skin. You reached your own hand out, letting it fall to the back of his neck. You pulled him closer, careful not to get any paint on his clothes in the process. He ran his tongue across your bottom lip, practically begging for more. You were quick to respond, parting your lips and allowing him to deepen the kiss. His other hand slipped to your hip, letting his fingers gently sink into the skin. When he pulled away, you were both breathless and craving more. He let his forehead rest on yours, dreading putting any more distance between your bodies. You gave a smile, unsure of what else you could do to express how you felt. It was like months of torture finally derived into pleasure. No more watching him as he walked past, wondering about his name or what it would be like to say it, or hear him say yours. No more wondering what it felt like to be kissed by him, because now, you knew, and it was way better than you ever imagined. “I’m not sure if I got it.” He admitted, causing a giggle from you. He pulled you in for another kiss, this one shorter and more lighthearted.

“Is it gone?” You asked, intoxicated from the feeling of his lips.

“If I said no, would you believe me?” You could hear his smile in his words.

“Yeah, just because I’d like to kiss you again, though.” His thumb trailed over your cheek as he rested his hand on your jaw. He placed a small peck on your lips, causing you to hum in satisfaction. “I wanted to do that for a really long time.” You said. He pulled back a bit, taking in your expression.

“Me, too.” He chuckled.

“Really?” He gave a nod.

“Since the first time I saw you.”

“Me, too.” You copied his earlier statement. “It’s been a long couple months of admiring you from a distance.”

“Why’d you never say anything?” He questioned, hand still keeping a delicate hold on your face.

“I was scared. Thought maybe you’d think I was weird, or you’d be an asshole. You’re too pretty to be nice, too. It’s not fair.” You laughed. “I didn’t even think you knew I existed.”

“How could I not?” He was almost offended at the thought. You shrugged your shoulders. “You’re the only person I’ve been looking at.” You felt your cheeks heat up again, angry that you couldn’t hide your emotion. “Danny’s been begging me to talk to you for weeks, but I guess I was scared, too.” It clicked in your brain, suddenly making sense why he was so excited when you told him you thought Sam was cute.

“Doesn’t matter,” You told him “We know now.” He nodded, agreeing silently. “Did you want to go back to my room, maybe?” You realized your statement was a bit forward only after you’d said it, but you didn’t really care. You were too caught up in the moment to worry about moving too fast, or any what-if’s. Your small amount of worry was subsided when he immediately stood, holding his hand out to you. You took it, letting him help you stand.

Both of you made quick work at cleaning up the mess you made, buzzing with excitement at the idea of being alone together. Within a few minutes, you had his hand in yours, and you were guiding him back through the unfamiliar building. You checked the main floor before you emerged, making sure there was no security checking out the place. You knew they could be assholes, and almost always asked for an access pass. When you deducted the coast was clear, you pulled him through the lobby and out the front door. You were both in a fit of giggles by the time you reached the dorm building, fumbling with keycards to let yourselves in. The hallways were barren, almost all of the students already gone for their spring trips. It made your journey all the faster, allowing you to make it to your room in record time without any interruption.

You opened the door for him, motioning got him to go inside first. He did so, eyes immediately taking in the sight. He’d caught glimpses of your room, but never got the chance to really see it. There was artwork plastered over the walls, some yours and some from your friends, or even reprints of famous artists. There were ambient lights bordering the ceilings, set to a constant colour. There were paintbrushes and textbooks littering your desk, along with a few empty coffee cups. There were a plethora of Polaroids hung on your bulletin board, a receipt book of memories from the lifetime he wanted to so badly know about. The smell of your perfume lingered in the air and your bed, although messy, looked extraordinarily inviting.

You gave him a small smile, nervous about what he was thinking. “I love it in here.” He said, almost like he could read your mind. You let out a small sigh of relief. His eyes drifted towards the small clay sculptures you’d been messing around with. He leaned closer, smiling at the intricate detail.

“You should come over more often, then.” You smiled.

“I think you’re gonna have a hard time getting rid of me, now.” He laughed. The sound was more beautiful than any you’d heard before.

“Fine by me.” You admitted. “I’m gonna change out of these. Just give me a minute.” He nodded, watching you as you picked some clothes from your closet. You brought them to the bathroom, changing into the shorts and t-shirt. You looked at yourself in the mirror, nearly wincing at the sight. You quickly fixed your makeup with your fingers and brushed your teeth. You sprayed a bit more perfume on the new clothes, and rejoined him. He was still standing awkwardly by your desk, unsure of where to sit. “You can sit on the bed.” You smiled, finding the timidity cute.

“Oh, okay.” He said, looking towards the mattress and sitting down.

“Did you want to watch a movie?” You asked.

“Sure.” He grinned. You went to your laptop, quickly logging in and pulling up Netflix. “I don’t care what we watch.” He admitted. You put on one of the first recommended movies, turning the volume up slightly. You climbed into bed next to him, propping a pillow against the wall and leaning back. He did the same, settling next to you, much closer than anyone else would normally sit.

The intro credits rolled for the movie, giving you a moment to relax from the close proximity. You leaned into him slightly, but not enough to make it obvious. You pulled your comforter over your legs, snuggling into the warmth. You let your hand rest on top of the blanket as you eyed his sitting in his lap. You’d been on dates, but not once since you moved away from your hometown had you felt so adolescent in romance. It felt like you were going through the motions for the first time, completely blind in knowledge. You had no idea how to approach him, how to initiate any of the intimacy you’d been yearning for. You hadn’t noticed you were staring at him, but he certainly did. He looked over to you, giving you a small, soft smile. In response, it made your heart skip a beat.

He took the opportunity to reach over and slip his hand into yours, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. The contact immediately subsided your anxiety, and you finally felt the ability to focus on the screen. After a few moments, you even found the courage to rest your head on his shoulder. The both of you watched the movie in silence, his thumb rubbing small circles over the back of your hand while you did so. As the film progressed, so did your comfortability. By the middle of it, you both had shifted dramatically. He was laying down, and you were resting atop of him, head nestled in his chest. His palm was firmly planted on your lower back, and his other gently tracing shapes into your arm. If you weren’t so energized from being so close to him, you were certain you could fall asleep in that position.

His hand that was on your arm moved to your face, fingers gently pushing your hair away. You closed your eyes, revelling in the feeling. He gently combed through the knots before settling his hand back on your cheek. He guided you to look up at him, sending a smile your way. You returned it, thinking that you would be fine if his face was the only one you could ever see again. “Thanks for inviting me over.” He said, admiring every feature. He knew that you were beautiful from every time he’d seen you before that night, but he realized that he’d been missing out on the best part. Having you laying with him, sleepiness laced in your eyes, made him realize that there was never a time where you were more beautiful. The innocent intimacy was overwhelming in the best possible way, leaving him to believe he could die happy as long as he got to hold you.

“It’s crazy, you know.” You sighed, propping yourself up on your elbow to get a better look at him.

“Hmm?” He replied, fingers dancing in the ends of your hair.

“I spent so long with this stupid little crush. I think because of it, I kind of put you on a pedestal. I forgot you were a person, too. I never believed that I could ever be with you like this. It always felt impossible.”

“I did the same thing.” He admitted, feeling better about it knowing you felt that way, too. “It’s weird. Dating in college is so much different than high school.” He chuckled. You nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly.

“It feels more… adult. In high school, I had to ask my parents permission to go on a date. Now, I can just invite you over whenever I want.” You thought aloud. “But I don’t feel any different. I still feel the same as I did a year ago.”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “It’s strange, knowing that we’re supposed to be adults, now. Especially when I still feel like a kid.”

“I think it’s a good buffer period,” you shrugged. “Pretend to be adults, get the experience, but still be able to make mistakes and learn from them. We get to practice living alone and being responsible, but still get to do stupid shit.” He laughed at your comment, but understood your point.

“I like you, Picasso.” He said, his hand landing on the back of your neck. You smiled at the words.

“I like you, too.” You admitted, eyes trailing over his face in admiration.

“I think it would be cool if we could do stupid shit and learn from our mistakes… together.” He mumbled, gaze focused only on you.

“What are you saying, Billy Joel?” You smirked as he rolled his eyes at the nickname.

“I’m saying,” he paused, eyes flickering down to your lips for a moment. “I would like to do this…. more often.” He articulated his words carefully, a bit nervous to say them.

“I think that would be quite alright.” You deducted. He visibly relaxed at your confirmation. “I… uh, I’m not good at this stuff.” You admitted.

“That’s okay.” He said, tangling his fingers in the hair at the base of your skull. He gently massaged his fingers over your scalp, causing a slight hum of pleasure from you. “That’s part of the making mistakes and learning from them, right?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, entranced in the feeling of him touching you. “I’ve never really had a boyfriend, or anything like that. Been on a few dates, but they ended pretty terribly.” You admitted. He cocked his head to the side, studying you as you spoke. “Like I said before, all of the boys from my hometown are all the same. I learned my lesson, and I realized nothing meaningful would ever come from it, so I just… didn’t.”

“You can talk about it, if you want.” He offered.

“There’s really not much to talk about.” You told him, remembering back to your high school years. “I don’t know if it was just the type of people that lived in the town, or if it was a teenage boy thing, but they just cared about getting laid and nothing more. It was unbearable, and I fell for it a few times, but nobody ever cared about me past the surface. I’ve never met a boy who wanted to know me like you do, or would even admit that they liked me out loud, for that matter. Nobody has ever asked me questions about myself, or my art. It was nice being seen as a person rather than a body.” You muttered the last part, hating saying it aloud.

“They have no idea what they missed out on, then.” He said, bringing you closer and placing a kiss on your forehead. “I’ve only known you, well, really known you, for a day. I already know that I’d be more than lucky to have a chance with you.” Your cheeks turned red, luckily covered by the darkness of the room this time. “They didn’t deserve you. Nobody should make you feel like you can only be loved in privacy. You’re worth more than that.” Your eyes fluttered up to meet his as your brain wondered if the interaction was real, or a grandly fabricated dream. You leaned forward, unable to satiate the need to kiss him again.

He accepted the gesture enthusiastically, using his hands to pull you impossibly closer. You brought your hand to his face, cupping his cheek. After a moment, you couldn’t help but want more. You shifted, trying your best not to break the kiss, placing both of your legs on either side of him. He broke away for a second, just long enough to prop himself up against the wall so you wouldn’t be uncomfortable. He wasted no time, capturing you in another kiss. His hands found your hips, fingers holding you firmly but delicately all at once. You snaked your hand to the back of his neck, holding him like you were scared he would get away from you. When you pulled back, you were both breathless with stars dancing in your eyes.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” He said quickly, mind still occupied with the thought of kissing you. “I’m okay if we just lay here and talk.”

“I want to if you do.” You assured him, finally feeling the months of tension reach the breaking point.

“Are you sure?” He asked, searching your face for an honest answer.

“Positive.” You promised, making sure he saw you were being genuine. “I just… I’ve never…yeah.” You trailed off, suddenly a bit embarrassed. He watched you, trying to piece together what you were saying. “I’ve never had sex.” You blurted out, realizing he wasn’t fully understanding you. “I mean, I’ve done some stuff, but never…” you breathed, your face burning for a whole new reason.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He reached his hand to your face, keeping your head straight so you would look at him. You were a virgin in all technical terms, only having awkward sexual experiences and moments with failed flings in high school. It wasn’t a virtue thing, more of a feeling of never finding the right person. With him, you felt comfortable, and were certain that it would be enjoyable. You didn’t have to have experience to assume that. You could tell just by looking at him, by how he spoke to you. He cared about your comfortability, and that was a major green flag. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” His tone was firm.

“No, I want to.” You said quickly, making sure he knew. “I just… I want you to have a good time, and I’m just nervous, I think. I don’t want to… disappoint.” He let out a chuckle, shaking his head at the blasphemous idea.

“Yeah, that’s not even a possibility.” He shut the fear down almost as soon as it sprouted. “I’m gonna have a good time because I’m with you.” He promised. “I don’t expect anything, or anything like that. I’m more concerned with you having a good time.” He said, bringing your face down to place a soft kiss on your lips. “We’ll take it slow, okay? Make sure you enjoy yourself.” He mumbled, his mouth only millimetres away from your own. “That sound okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, giving a small nod. You could feel his smile from as he kissed you again.

“You can tell me to stop, or slow down, or whatever you need at any point, okay?” He explained when he pulled back. You nodded. “You can tell me what you like, too. Don’t be shy.” You nodded again. “I need to hear the words, baby.”

“Okay.” You verbally confirmed. He tapped your thigh, silently letting you know he wanted you to get up. You did so, allowing him to move over to the side.

“Lay down for me,” he said, his tone had authority but it was incredibly soft, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable. You laid back, eyes locked on his face. You were still anxious, but he was easing it more by the second. He turned onto his side to face you, guiding your face to his once more and connecting your mouths. You kissed him back with more neediness than before, excited by the idea of his hands on you. He slipped his fingers under the hem of your shirt, letting them dance over your skin so you could grow accustom to the feeling.

As he became familiar with the feeling of your body, he took his chance to deepen the kiss. You couldn’t help but let a few small moans of delight out, only fuelling him further. He went slow, working you up to speed. He didn’t want to rush you, or push you too far. He let you take the lead with progressing any further, waiting until you made a move to take an article of clothing away. When you tugged at the hem of his shirt, he moved back from you so he could pull it over his head. You let your eyes fall over his exposed torso, feeling your stomach flutter at the sight. He smiled at your expression, but didn’t say a word in fear of you feeling embarrassed. He made a move towards your waistband, watching your eyes intently as he did so. You gave him a nod of encouragement, letting him know you were okay. He hooked his fingers through the sides and slowly pulled the shorts from your body. You sat up and removed your shirt, too.

His breath caught in his throat at the sight of you in just your undergarments, having to do for a moment just to appreciate the view. “Gorgeous,” he hummed, lowering his head to you once more. He left a trail of gentle kisses across you collarbones, letting his hands trail over your exposed thighs. The minuscule touches were driving you crazy; you had no idea it could feel so good to be admired by someone. His lips moved downward, skipping over your chest and landing on your sternum. He started to get sloppier the further he progressed downwards. By the time he reached your navel, you were practically a mess. He looked up at you, eyelids heavy, taking in every detail of you. The way your chest rose and fell while you breathed, the way your lips stayed slightly parted, the way your hand felt tangled in his hair. It was driving him crazy.

He moved up again, motioning for you to lift your back from the bed. You did as he wanted, allowing him to snake his arms around you and unclasp your bra. He pulled it from your body, discarding it carelessly on the floor. He sucked a sharp breath through his teeth when he finally saw the full view. He was nestled between your legs, one hand planted beside you on the mattress, holding him up upright. His other hand returned to you, resting on your rib cage as light as a feather. He looked to you for permission before doing anything else. “I’m okay, I promise. I’ll tell you if I’m not.” You appreciated his consideration, but you were beginning to feel a bit desperate for more. He didn’t say anything, just brought his hand to your breast and brushed his thumb lightly over your hardened nipple.

The feeling was new, but very welcomed. The small touch sent a jolt of emotion through you. You watched him intently, anticipating his next movement. He brought his mouth to your nipple and pulled it into his mouth. You let out a shaky exhale at the sensation. He flicked his tongue over it a few times, really becoming familiar with you. When he pulled away, you couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed at the loss of contact. He smiled at your sigh of discontent. “Feel good?” He hummed.

“Yeah,” you breathed. He sat upright on his knees, bringing both of his hands to your hips and hooking his fingers through your underwear. You bit the inside of your lip, enthusiastic but still a bit nervous. You lifted your hips from the bed, allowing him to pull them off with ease. He tossed them to the floor, not caring where they landed. He was only concerned with you, now fully naked and laying beneath him. He caught sight of your face, noticing that your eyes were looking away from him.

“Hey,” he whispered. You finally found the courage to look up at him. “You okay, beautiful?” You were glad he disregarded your earlier statement, finding it much easier to communicate with him if he initiated it.

“Yeah, just nervous. It’s nothing you’re doing.” You promised.

“You want to stop?” You shook your head, unable to think of a worse idea. He didn’t immediately jump back to action at the expression, but spoke again after a few moments. “We’ll go slow, okay? This is for you. I wanna give you a good time.” You felt a smile growing on your lips at his words.

“Okay,” you affirmed. He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on your lips. You felt like you could live in that moment forever.

“Don’t have to be shy, or nervous. Promise I’m gonna take care of you.” He said as he pulled away. “Just tell me to stop, or slow down if you need to. You’re in charge.” You managed another nod as he sunk back between your legs. He laid on his stomach, head inches from your heat. You felt the anxiety lingering, but it was rapidly overtaken by excitement. He placed a few kisses on the inside of your thighs, one arm snaked under one of your legs and gently caressing the outside of your thigh. He brought his free hand to your cunt, fingers ghosting over the area. He looked up to you as if to ask permission. You gave him another nod, assuring him it was okay.

He slowly advanced, wanting to give you ample time to change your mind if you needed to. When you stayed quiet, eyes watching him with anticipation, he took it as a good sign. He ran his fingers through your folds, letting you get used to the feeling before doing anything else. You bit into the inside of your lip, trying to wrap your head around the unfamiliar sensation. It was definitely different when someone else was touching you, you noted. He gathered some of your arousal on his fingers. He spread the wetness to your clit, bringing his thumb to the sensitive area and slowly rubbing light circles into it. Your breath caught in your throat, the feeling taking you by surprise. His eyes flickered to your face, feeling a bit of satisfaction at the sound. You looked down at him, meeting his gaze and feeling a different type of pleasure at the sight.

“How’s that?” His voice was quiet, barely noticeable if not for your intent focus on his every action. “Does that feel okay?”

“Yeah,” you said, less enthralled in the movement of his hands than you were at the look on his face. He had a small smile playing on his lips, but the admiration for you he held in his eyes was worth more than words. He didn’t speak again, but kept his focus on the pattern of his thumb. He applied a bit more pressure, watching your face for a reaction. You let in a sharp intake of breath, feeling the sensation change from unfamiliar to pleasurable. His jaw clenched slightly, the sound running straight through him and settling in his bones. It was small, barely there, but it was blissful to his ears.

He worked at you for a few moments, gentle and loving with every move. It felt good, the nervousness almost completely gone, but there was enough there for you to hold yourself back. Your noises were limited, mostly from fear of embarrassment. You were so caught up in the worry of looking dumb that you were almost overlooking the scene before you. It didn’t deter him, though. If anything, it only drove him further. He was aching too hear the beautiful sounds begging to be let out, and he’d be damned if he couldn’t get them out of you. You watched him closely, not wanting to miss a moment of his presence. He leaned forward, letting a line of spit fall from his lips onto his fingers. You swallowed hard, the small action sending a rush of pleasure through you.

He ran his fingers through your cunt again, making sure the lubrication didn’t go to waste. His middle finger slowed and eventually stopped just before your entrance. “Tell me if you’re uncomfortable, okay?” He asked, but his tone was more of a demand. You nodded, too caught up in the idea of his fingers almost inside of you to worry about anything else. After a second, he slowly sunk his finger into you, studying you for any sign of discomfort. When you went without protest, he fully pushed his finger in, letting his thumb fall back on your clit. He continued his circles, now adding the stimulation of pumping his finger into you. You let a breathy moan out, unable to hold it back anymore. “That’s it baby,” he practically groaned, ecstatic to hear the noise. “You’re doing s’good.” The praise, although unexpected, was very well received. Knowing that he was enjoying himself solely by pleasuring you was a fantastic feeling. Knowing that he was only concerned with you feeling good was enough to satiate the anxiety.

He continued his pace for a while, eventually adding another finger when you felt you were ready. You were a mess, caught up in the pleasure but worried, too, because you hadn’t felt the creep of an impending orgasm. His hand was steady, never wavering, and his eyes were locked on you. Every so often, he pressed his lips into the skin on your thighs or your hipbones, just as a small act of affection. “Sam, I-I don’t know if I’m gonna cum.” You admitted, voice shaky and a bit defeated.

“You will,” he promised, unfazed by the statement. “Don’t be nervous.”

“I just…” you let out a sigh, frustrated with yourself. “It’s not you, it’s me.” He pulled back, halting his movements.

“I can stop if that’s what you want, baby.” His words were coated with sincerity. “Or are you just worried you can’t cum?” He inquired.

“I don’t want you to stop, I’m having a good time. I just don’t know if I can.” You explained, feeling embarrassment settle in your chest.

“I’ve got all night.” He said, shrugging off the worry. “Can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing.” He gave you a smile.

“I want you to have a good time, too, though.”

“Oh, I am.” His tone changed from gentle to firm. “Don’t worry about that.” You watched him with uncertainty, but the look in his eye was nothing but affirmative of his statement. “Don’t worry about anything. Just lay there and focus on how it feels, okay?” You nodded. “No worries about if you’re gonna cum or not, no worrying about me having a good time, just relax and enjoy the feeling. If you don’t cum, we’ll try again next time.” Your heard sped at the realization that he was planning on this being more than a one-time thing. It was comforting, knowing that he was learning about you so intimately, but wasn’t planning on running. He didn’t want to get your clothes off and never speak to you again like the majority of boys you’d ever known.

“Y-yeah, okay.” You replied. He cocked his head to the side, wondering why the hesitation was so present. “You, uh… next time?” He couldn’t help but grin at your question.

“I mean, yeah, if you want that, of course.”

“Yeah, I do.” You rushed out, hoping you hadn’t made him feel otherwise.

“Then it’s settled.” He hummed. “Not just the sex part, though. The dinner and the hanging out was great, and I’d very much like to do that, too.” You let out a small giggle at his words, finding the explanation cute.

“Me, too.” You assured him.

“Breakfast tomorrow?” He asked, a smirk on the corner of his lips. He started to move his fingers again, taking you by surprise. You let out a gasp at the suddenness, immediately feeling the pleasure return.

“S-sure,” you breathed, giving him a nod. He decided to stop messing with you, wanting to ensure you were as comfortable as you could be. He worked himself back up to his earlier pace, making it nearly impossible for you to think of anything else. He let another trail of spit fall onto his fingers, making sure it wasn’t too dry for you.

After a few moments, you did start to feel a little less insecure. His eyes were watching you, studying every minute detail. He noticed the rise and fall of your chest speed as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of you, the way you occasionally pulled your bottom lip between your teeth in attempt to silence yourself. He watched how your eyebrows furrowed slightly when he brushed over your clit just right, and how your eyes stayed almost permanently shut. He thought you were the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Eventually, a blissful moan slipped from your mouth as his fingers hit the perfect spot. His eyes rolled back slightly, soaking up the sound. “That’s it, baby.” He encouraged you, fingers never stopping.

The words of motivation helped ease your tension. Your stiffness dissipated, your shoulders relaxing back on the pillows a bit. Your neck let your head fall back, leaving you completely at ease for the time being. A few more short-lived moans fell from your lips, all hitting him with a stronger force each time. “Doing so good, princess.” He said, noticing the effect his words had on you last time. “Cum for me, baby. You can do it.” He whispered. The demand went straight to your core, and you started to feel a sensation grow in the pit of your stomach. It was a feeling you’d only ever given yourself; it was way more intense when produced by another person.

“Fuck, Sam.” You whimpered, a gentle warning that you were getting closer. His heart drummed against his chest, clearly excited at the obscene proclamation. He took a risk, removing his thumb from your clit and lowering his head until his lips were touching you. You didn’t realize what he was doing until his tongue darted over the sensitive nerves, causing an involuntarily buck of your hips. He used his hand that was hooked under your leg to hold you down on the mattress.

Your fear of not being able to cum was quickly diminished with the new, even more unfamiliar feeling. It was heavenly. You let a low groan out, feeling the knot in your belly tighten. You slipped your hand down and tangling your fingers in the roots of his hair. He pulled his mouth off you only for a second, just to get one more praise in. “Taste so good, princess.” He said, slipping his thumb back in place of his mouth. You could only whimper in response, already missing the feeling of his tongue. “That’s it, baby. Look at you,” he whispered the last part more to himself than anything else. He only let his eyes hover over your expression for a moment longer, returning his tongue to you.

It didn’t take long to get to where he wanted you to be. Within a few minutes, you were gripping at his hair, panting and moaning, your orgasm begging you to let go. His tongue was moving at a steady pace, and his fingers curled with every re-entry, hitting a spot inside you that nothing ever had before. You let your head fall back, feeling the pressure reach its peak. A wave of pleasure overtook you, setting every nerve in your body on fire. You managed his name through the slur of moans, clenching around his fingers as you came. He only tapered his speed when the intensity began to die down. He removed his mouth first, then slowly pulled his fingers from you. His eyes flickered towards your face, lust clouding his eyes as he did so.

He slowly moved upwards, placing a few kisses over your collarbones and up onto your neck. You finally found the strength to open your eyes and look to him. He caught your gaze and gave you a dopey smile, eyelids heavy and your arousal glistening on his lips. “That’s my beautiful girl,” he hummed, wiping his chin with the back of his hand before leaning in for a kiss. “I’m so proud of you.” He whispered as he parted from you. He placed another kiss on your lips, sweet and full of emotion. The anxiety that had been plaguing you on and off was now gone, replaced solely by a desire for him that you’d never felt for another person before. “Did that feel good?”

“So good, Sammy.” You said, your lips still ghosting over his. You could feel his erection straining against his sweatpants, pressing into your leg.

“My name sounds so good when you say it like that.” He sighed, one hand roaming your exposed torso. His touch was light, tickling the sensitive skin over your rib cage as he did so.

“Thank you,” you whispered, resting your cheek against his, basking in the affection.

“Don’t have to thank me, princess.” He replied. “If anything, I should be thanking you.” You let out a small laugh at his words, finding his gratefulness charming. You reached up and cupped his cheek in your hand, lifting your head to pull him into another kiss. He was hesitant to let you go when you pulled away.

“Do you wanna…?” You trailed off, feeling a bit too embarrassed to finish the sentence.

“Do you?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you breathed, never more sure of yourself in your whole life. He gave you a smile, making a move to stand. He undid the drawstring on his pants, then pulled them down, ridding himself of them and leaving himself clad in only his boxers. You couldn’t help but stare at him, eyes wandering but eventually settling on the bulge barely contained by the fabric. He noticed your stare, a smirk making its way back onto his lips.

“Condoms?” He asked, catching your attention. Your eyes widened, realizing that you didn’t have any.

“Oh, I uh- I didn’t really expect… I don’t..”

“That’s okay,” he chuckled. “I have some in my room. I can go get them.” You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy, realizing that he’d been keeping them for a reason. You pushed the thought away, not wanting to focus on the idea of him being with someone else. He was here with you, and that’s what mattered.

“I, uh, I am on birth control, if you’re clean.” You squeaked, slightly embarrassed at the statement.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” He said, his tone firm.

“Yeah, I am.” You assured him. “Like I said, as long as you’re clean.” You repeated the earlier comment, just wanting to be sure.

“I am,” he promised. “It’s been a long time since… yeah.” He let out a small laugh. You couldn’t help but feel better knowing he hadn’t been sleeping around, either.

“Then yeah, I’m okay with it.” He gave a nod, making a move to take off his boxers. You watched in admiration, excited to finally see him the same as he was seeing you. He kicked the fabric with the rest of the growing pile of clothes. He stepped back towards the bed, noticing your eyes never leaving him. “You’re… very pretty.” You whispered, unable to find any better words to describe him.

“I think you’re very pretty, too.” He smiled, nestling back between your legs as he grabbed a pillow from beside you. “Lift your hips up, princess.” You did as he said and he slipped the cushion underneath you. “Should make it a bit more comfortable.”

He guided your legs up slightly, not enough to bend you in an awkward position, but enough to make it easier for both of you. “Will it hurt?” You finally blurted out, the question begging to be spoken all night.

“May be a bit uncomfortable at first, but I’m gonna try my best to make sure it doesn’t.” He said, catching your gaze. “We can take it as slow as you want. If you want me to stop, just tell me.”

“Okay.” You replied, voice quiet. You were nervous, but very aware that you were in good hands. It was his only intention to make sure you enjoyed yourself. You watched as he spit on his hand, rubbing himself for a moment.

“You okay?” He asked, wanting to be sure.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t be scared to talk to me, baby.” He reminded. You nodded, eyes only focused on his hand that was he was stroking himself with. He moved a bit closer, letting the tip of his dick rest against your entrance. He let you get used to the feeling before going any further. “You tell me when you’re ready.”

“I am.” You weren’t lying; the anxiety and nervousness was fully expected, but you were more than ready to have sex with him. You were sure of that before you’d even spoken with him, and it was only solidified further when you saw how accommodating he was being with you. He waited for any hesitation, but when none was given, he slowly pushed his hips forward.

You closed your eyes, trying your best to stay relaxed. He only pushed in a few inches, wanting you to adjust before continuing. “That okay?” He asked. You nodded, reaching out for his hand. He took his own from your leg and accepted the offer, intertwining his fingers with yours. He thrusted forward a bit more, studying your expression for a hint of discomfort. When he bottomed out, you let out a small sigh of relief.

“Not as bad as I thought it would be.” You noted. He laughed quietly, happy you thought so.

“You’re doing so good.” He whispered. “You feel so good.” His words sent a jolt of arousal through you, enjoying the praise more than you imagined you would. He slowly built up a pace, moving his hips with caution. Once you’d fully realized the sensation was less than uncomfortable, you relaxed against him. After a few more moments, you began to enjoy the feeling.

“You can go faster,” you sighed, a ghost of a moan in your words. He was hesitant to do so, but he gradually sped his thrusts, admiring your expression. When he clued in to the fact you were enjoying yourself, he couldn’t help but let a groan escape his lips. Your eyes snapped to his face, thinking that was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard. His pleasure ridden expression was enough to induce an orgasm on its own, you deducted.

He reached his hand between your legs, letting his thumb find your clit again. He continued his pace, now applying light pressure onto the sensitive bundle of nerves as he circled his thumb. The combined sensations caused a moan from you. Your fingers tightened against his hand, a silent expression of pleasure. “Fuck, Sam.” You sighed, letting your head fall back onto the pillows.

“Look so pretty like this, baby.” He mumbled, trying to keep the speed of his hips and his hand the same. The pet names were unexpected, but you loved hearing them come from his mouth, especially when they sounded like that. “Wish I could have you like this forever.” He sighed, losing himself to the feeling a bit. It didn’t take long for another knot to form in your belly. With the consistency of his movements, it was much easier to get there than it was the first time. Sam noticed the slight change in your demeanour, the increase in the noises you were making. He focused on your face, wanting to watch you this time, feeling a bit cheated out of the moment the first time. “You think you can cum again, princess?” He asked, eyes burning into you.

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered, looking up at him. “Feels so good, Sammy.”

“Come on, baby.” He sounded as if he were begging you. “Doing so good for me.” With his encouragement, you felt your orgasm creep up again. You tried your best to keep your eyes on him, wanting to appreciate him as much as possible. He sped his thumb slightly, causing your breath to catch in your throat. His gaze never wavered, an unspoken plea for you to let go. It only took a moment before you came the second time. Your head fell back again, eyes screwed shut and mouth permanently agape. His jaw was clenched, holding himself back from his own release at the sound of you crying his name. “That’s it,” he moaned, wishing he could engrave the picture in his mind forever. As much as he wanted to cum, too, he was hoping to get one more out of you before the night came to an end.

The pressure from his thumb lightened, but his thrusts sped. You didn’t have time to recover, unlike the first time. The sensitivity was overtaken by the pleasure of him inside you, making it the only thing you could focus on. You looked back at him, realizing your mistake as soon as you did. He was still staring at you, eyes now a bit feral. The muscles in his jaw were taut, and he was quite unfamiliar to you, now. Although different, not in a bad way. It was intense, but far from menacing. You were captivated in the details of his stare, finding yourself unable to look away. He was breathtaking, and you couldn’t believe you were lucky enough to have him in such a way. You couldn’t believe that you had the power to drive him to such a feeling.

“You can give me one more, baby, I know you can.” His motivation was clouded with a bit of dominance, giving you the impression that he wouldn’t be pleased with himself if he couldn’t give you another orgasm.

“I don’t know, Sammy.” You groaned, unsure of yourself but still fully immersed in the feeling of him inside you.

“You can, princess. You can do it.” His chest was heaving with every breath, partially due to his movement, but more to do with desire. There was a glisten of sweat on his forehead, illuminated by the dim light flooding through the window. You didn’t think you’d be able to cum for the first time, let alone a second, or a third. The only anxiety you had left in your body was one fearing you’d leave him disappointed. Rationally, you knew he’d be content with whatever happened, but the louder part of your brain craved to give him exactly what he wanted. It wasn’t out of fear, but solely because you wanted to. From the minute he’d given you that first stupid smile all those months ago, you knew you wanted to be exactly where you were at that moment, and you’d be damned if you didn’t give it your all.

His patience and gentleness with you the whole night was endearing, but for you, the novelty of it being your first time had worn off, and the months of sexual tension was reaching its peak. You were both completely starved for each other in the best way possible, neither of you wanting to disappoint. Sam kept his pace steady, his thumb pressing into your clit again. To both of you, the idea of another orgasm not being reached was out of the question. “I can, but you have to cum with me.” You begged.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he grunted, letting out a long exhale. He knew that wouldn’t be an issue, he’d been holding himself back from the minute you’d started fucking. He rationed with himself as another string of moans left your lips, forcing himself to believe that waiting would be far more satisfactory than finishing before you. “Cum for me, angel.” The new term of endearment was unlike the others; this one hit you violently, such a graceful term for such a filthy display. You let out a cry of pleasure, your third climax hitting you without warning. It washed over you with necessity, as if you needed it to survive. He finally let go of your hand, fingers finding your hips to hold you on him as he came, too.

The room echoed with sounds of pleasure and obscene words, the essence of the moment settling into the walls and solidifying its place. The memory would never leave, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. He let out a sigh, finally losing his composure and resting gently atop of you. He placed tender kisses along your collarbones, small gestures of affection and appreciation to let you know he still meant everything he said to you. After you both came back to reality, he slowly withdrew from you. He tried to keep the mess minimal as he did so, wanting to keep the cleanup simple so he had more time to hold you before the night was through. “You should go pee, don’t want you to get a UTI.” He mumbled. You managed a nod, sleep calling to you like never before. Your mind and body were beyond exhausted, unable to keep up with the whirlwind of events.

He helped you up and to the bathroom, leaving you to your business. You cleaned yourself up and removed what was left of your makeup before returning to him. He gave you a dopey smile and a kiss on the head before going to do the same. You took a seat on the bed, mind still buzzing with excitement at the thought of what happened. When he came back out, he pulled his boxers back on and picked up his t-shirt from the ground. He handed it to you, almost nervous of rejection. You took the piece of clothing and slipped it over your head, more than happy to be wearing his clothes. “Did… did you maybe want to stay with me tonight?” You asked, nervous he’d say no. He took a seat beside you, pulling you into his arms and laying you both down on the mattress.

“Was hoping you’d ask.” He mumbled, pulling your back to his chest. He nuzzled his head into your neck, not caring about the tickle of your hair on his face.

“Thank you,” you finally said after a few long moments of silence.

“What are you thanking me for?”

“I don’t know,” you laughed. “That was… fantastic. You were fantastic.”

“I’m just happy you had a good time. That’s all I wanted.” He hummed, hand snaking under your shirt to rest on your stomach.

“I really did. I.. uh, wanted to do that for a while.” You said, rolling your eyes at your own awkwardness.

“Oh, yeah, me too.” He said, as if it were obvious. “All year I felt like I was in middle school again, crushing on the prettiest girl who didn’t know I existed.”

“I knew you existed.” You whispered, calmed at the knowledge you’d both been feeling the same way. “I thought the same about you.”

“Seems like we were both a bit dumb, then, Picasso.” You could hear his smile in his words.

“Guess so, piano man.” You both fell into a silence again, but like all the other ones, it was nothing short of comfortable. You felt yourself melt into his touch, sleep begging you to close your eyes.

“You’re okay, though? You’re not sore, or anything? You’d tell me if you were, right?”

“Yeah, I am, Sammy. Promise.” You reassured him. He’d done an excellent job at taking care of you and ensuring you were comfortable. It was the best possible scenario you could have imagined for your first time.

“That’s good, I just want to make sure.” He whispered. You settled into the mattress, prepared to go to bed. “So, if we’re talking experience wise, like a three star review?” He broke the quiet once more, causing both of you to fall into a fit of laughter.

“Mmm, I was thinking more of a five star, actually.” You pretended to ponder.

“Don’t stroke my ego, Picasso.” He dismissed the compliment.

“Maybe we’ll have to try it again sometime, then I can give a proper review.” You moved your hand under your shirt, too, resting it on top of his. He laced your fingers together, more than accepting of the contact.

“I think that would be quite alright.” He placed a kiss to your neck, just below your ear. It sent a shiver down your spine. “So it was good enough to make you want to do it again,” he noted. “I’ll have to put that one on my resume.” You laughed, shaking your head at his antics.

“Goodnight, piano man.” You said, finality in your voice. He propped himself up, trying his best to lean over you for another kiss. You turned your head back to meet his lips, much more confident in the action, now.

“Goodnight, Picasso.” He settled back in behind you, closing his eyes, too. “I can’t wait to take you to breakfast in the morning.” No more words were exchanged, but you both fell into a slumber with a permanent smile stuck on your lips.

[maliland]

RESENTMENT: PT. 1

"i gotta look her in her eyes and see she's had half of me." part two

barbie(s): e-42 miles morales & black fem reader includes: flashbacks/backstory stuff, angst, infidelity, homewrecking, & heartbreak (men being disappointments per usual) synopsis: you used to describe your experience with love as one of complexity and simplicity all at once, but after you learn what your boyfriend did at a party with another girl while you were at home and sick, your heart is left with irreparable damage and an abundance of resentment. wc: 2669 banner credz: @/cafekitsune

a/n: first fic on this ho 😓 nervous. idk if i like this so i was procrastinating.. but lmk what y’all think! 🫣 i’ll post a post a poll the end of the fic. if y’all like it then i’ll finish up the second part and post it whenever i get a chance. i haven't proof read, but i'll fix any mistakes when i do.

(nd let me ease your nerves: this is not a fic where miles cheats on reader w/ gwen. she isn’t included in or mentioned in this part or the next 😭)

unfaithfulness might as well be a disease. not one that can be contracted, but one that stems from within. 

those who are unfaithful are unequivocally the weakest links. you? you've always presumed them to be snakes that were to join lucifer on earth at the very beginning of time, because they'd rather cause havoc and jeopardize how those they love perceive them rather than relish eternal peace in the clouds. had adam and eve left the forbidden fruit alone, the one thing that those unfaithful could've stayed faithful to was their identity as whispering serpents. alas, that's not how the story goes. and for the sake of free will, god decided they should reside on earth with those who know nothing but faith. 

betrayal isn't limited to one kind of person. whether the relationship is romantic or platonic, anyone can smile in your face, only to turn around and drive a pre-sharpened knife right through your back when you least expect it. you're left to bleed out while you try and make sense of why it had to be you.

you've been double-crossed before, but never bad enough to the point where you needed to make a huge deal out of it. it was usually stupid stuff, like your elementary friends ratting out your genius hiding spot during hide and seek after they got found, or your mom revoking her promise to take you to the park that one day after school when you were younger. your ex-best friend from middle school spreading nasty rumors about you was far more serious than all the other instances, and it was probably the worst one until now. 

you know that girls and guys alike get cheated on. you've heard stories and even seen it happen firsthand. infidelity occurs more frequently than you initially thought it did. then again, you tried not to think about it much because you were positive it would never happen to you. ever. especially not with your boyfriend, miles.

that was your first mistake—thinking you were immune.

you wanted to gauge your eyes out when your best friend video called you and showed you that photo of miles kissing another girl in a bedroom at a halloween party. 

the girl you were once worried about.

❤︎₊ ⊹

when you were younger, you were in love with the idea of being in love. 

many of your earliest memories consisted of your father reading you fairytales right before bed, since your mother was never around to do so. when he learned that you took a liking to stories that were more centered around love, he began to look for various fairytales pertaining to such that he could read to you. you adored how the love interests would always end up together by the end of each and every story. after enduring all the conflict getting in the way of their relationship thriving, it felt like a reward. you always felt secure knowing a happy ending was guaranteed no matter what transpired throughout the story. you liked that security, but your obsession with it inevitably flawed your perception of love itself. you grew up under the impression that love in the reality in which you reside wouldn't be all that different from the fairytales.

it hurt you when you finally discovered that that wasn't the case. in eighth grade, you had asked your crush to the winter formal. he had harshly rejected you, cracking the most heartless jokes in addition, in attempt to impress his friends, who were indeed laughing up a storm. that encounter alone was enough to ground you to earth. you discovered how disappointing the world and its inhabitants truly were, and how the unrealistic fairytales you once swooned over would never be real life. maybe it was insane of you to ever even think so, given the perilous city you live in.

seeing as dating these days is more detrimental than beneficial, during your sophomore year of high school, you decided that you'd steer clear from being romantically involved in any way, shape, or form entirely. of course, the universe always sends you someone or something you stopped wishing for ages ago when you least expect it. maybe something you didn't even long for anymore at all. you were perfectly okay with sticking to romance novels. you sure didn't want to put your peace on the line, especially not in the name of romance—but someone changed that.

miles.

you knew of his existence before you started dating him, but only briefly. you had an algebra class together your sophomore year, but the boy was quite reserved, only speaking when spoken to. trying to keep to himself and stay out of your school's public eye completely backfired on him, because he became the topic of everyone's conversations multiple times for a full week after his father, the former police captain, passed away. 

officer morales' death was a humbling reminder that brooklyn would only continue to grow more and more minacious. you haven't gone for a walk at night by yourself for as long as you can remember. you'd either be mugged, killed, or both. on the streets of new york, there was peril lurking around every corner. the city has more loose criminals than you were able to count on your fingers. you got used to living in such an environment, but your arm hairs never did stop shooting up whenever you had to step outside.

you recall giving your condolences to miles when he returned to school two weeks later. he had just nodded. you couldn't blame him though. everyone was constantly reminding him of something he'd rather not think about.

if he wasn't reticent and constrained to silence before, he was sure as hell was now. you tried your luck with him anyway, though.

whenever you'd see him sketching in his sketchbook in algebra, you'd compliment his skill or ask him what he was drawing. maybe it seemed a little invasive at the time, but your heart was in the right place. 

"i didn't know you could draw," you whispered to him. your desk was right next to his, so ignoring you wasn't really an option.

"yeah."

"that's cool, art takes skill—and patience," you had smiled.

"mhm."

you fell into a routine of asking miles what he was drawing every day in class. he was undoubtedly annoyed by it at first, but he eventually got used to it, and you finally got more than a one-word response. it was this conversation in particular that changed the way miles saw you.

"is that the prowler's suit you're drawing?" you whispered, surveying the page.

miles nodded and responded flatly. "yeah."

"i think it looks cool. i really like his suit design," you retorted. "especially the purple."

"you do?" he stopped drawing completely and looked up at you.

"hell yeah," you expressed with a faint grin. "he may be a criminal or whatever, but you gotta admit, his suit and his tech are pretty neat."

so then you two were friends for a couple of months. you'd do things like eat dinner at his house, help around the flat, and study together. surprisingly, miles' mom, rio, took a liking to you. she even taught you how to cook, and would let you assist with fixing dinner. 

miles had it was rare for his mama to warm up to people as fast as she did to you, and that made you feel special.

within the period of time in which you and miles would hang out, you ended up catching feelings for him, which you pushed to the side without a second thought. you still firmly believed that a relationship would bring you nothing but trouble. what you didn't know was that miles felt the same way about you as you did him, and eventually, he decided that he couldn't hide his feelings for you anymore.

miles confessed to you one night under the water tower on the roof of his apartment complex. you'd been watching the sun go down together and talking about whatever came to mind. you could've gazed into his perfectly sculpted face until the end of time. you doted on the way his eyes glowed gold when the sun hit them just right.

"you helped me open up. i didn't think that was something i was capable of doing anymore," he had told you. "i really do like you, [name]."

though you were terrified of putting yourself in a position to be played, you didn't want to say no, so you didn't. 

for the two years you've been with miles, you've never not trusted him. he's never given you a reason not to. he's always treated you like royalty, practically kneeling at your feet like being in your presence was a reward all by itself—at least that's what you felt like being his girlfriend equated to. 

it's no secret that miles tends to capture the attention of numerous girls without ever even having to try, whether they went to your school or simply passed him by on the street. miles didn't even have to lift a finger to have them drooling.

when you two got together, you didn't announce your relationship to the public like you were some kind of celebrity couple. that didn't stop people from gossiping like you were, though. according to everyone who went to visions, "miles and [name] popped out with each other out of nowhere!" and that was okay with you. nobody needed to know the ins and outs of you two's relationship. unfortunately, the obvious fact that you and miles were together didn't stop girls from constantly trying to have their way with him—one girl in particular was more persistent than the rest.

you'd be lying through your teeth if you said it didn't bother you at first, because it made you sick to your stomach. the thought of miles leaving you for one of those girls was one you couldn't bear. 

you vividly recall standing beside miles while he was situating his books in his locker before a girl who was well-known around campus, arielle, approached your boyfriend on the opposite side and 'not-so-subtly' flirted with him like you weren't even there. it was no secret that she didn't like you, so you were stuck between trying to figure out if she actually liked miles or was just trying to get under your skin. all you knew was the way she was twirling her perfectly spiraled, bouncy, brown curls around her index while she bit her lip bottom had you undeniably heated. 

"so miles, i've been learning how to braid hair," she had said. "honestly, i think i've pretty much mastered it. i want to practice cornrows... problem is, i couldn't find anyone with the type of hair i prefer to practice on, but then i saw you!"

you had to turn around and face the opposite direction just to hide the distaste that hastily painted your once-neutral expression. you brought your arm to your mouth and coughed twice so it wouldn't look like you were turning around for no reason. when you turned back around, arielle was looking you dead in the eyes, like you had done something horrible to her. you were surprised that she decided to give you even a fraction of her attention instead of acting like you were a ghost altogether.

you returned the energy, narrowing your eyes to slits. you weren't going to go toe to toe with another girl over a boy who was clearly yours. you had just redone miles' hair not even three full days ago, so she'd had to find another guy to practice on.

you shifted your gaze onto miles as he closed his locker. he hadn't even said a word to arielle up to that point, or even looked at her. when he finally made eye contact with the girl, she smiled innocently, as if she wasn't trying to murder you by burning holes through your skull with the way she was staring at you. 

you were no longer bothered by the time miles turned his head to look at you. the way his face was twisted was more than telling, with confusion written all over it. you read that boy like a book. 

"i mean, come on," arielle giggled. "you'd be the perfect person to practice on."

this girl didn't know when to stop. you were silently growing furious, wishing miles would take your hand and drag you away from that foolishness, but no. instead, he chose to engage in conversation with arielle.

"what do you think of my hair now?" miles asked.

this made your stomach drop, but it didn't show on your face. instead of saying anything or trying to figure out why miles cared what this random ass girl thought, you stood still where you were, waiting for the worst to be over. at the time, you and miles had only been together for about five and a half months. you didn't expect your first relationship to end that quickly. if this conversation didn't wrap up soon, you were sure that your head would start spinning and you'd pass out on the spot.

"of course! the two braids always look so good on you. i love them," arielle angled her head and leaned against the locker next to miles'.

"so do i," miles smirked, snaking one of his arms around your upper back to the shoulder furthest away from him. he pressed his palm against your arm and gently urged you closer to him, pointing to you with his free hand then looking back at arielle. "my girl got me right the other day, and she did a damn good job."

a smile crept up onto your face. for only half of a second, you didn't want to come off like one of those annoying moms of five who got the last 75" flat-screen tv during black friday and rubbed it in everyone's faces in the checkout line, until you remembered who's boyfriend miles was.

yours.

you had bragging rights.

"thanks, miles," you looked up at him, smiling brightly as any and all doubts left your mind. your eyes soon met with arielle's again, who was in disbelief. it seemed that you'd exchanged expressions. you were the one geeking now. 

"damn, i'd say gossip doesn't spread like it used to, but the looks you were giving me tell me you know we're together and don't care."

arielle shifted her weight off of the locker, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. she was never one to admit, let alone accept defeat.

"girl, c'mon. don't be lame. miles wouldn't cheat on me. it's even crazier that you thought he'd flirt back while i was standing right here."

"have it your way, but he's gonna crack."

with that, arielle scoffed, opting to leave the situation alone for the day. that wouldn't be the last time she tried something like that, and it probably wasn't the first either. you just happened to be around to see it that time. it made you wonder how miles reacted every other time. you were also quick to question why she claimed miles would "crack." it rubbed you the wrong way.

"she's jus' talkin' outta her ass, hermosa. she likes attention," miles assured you.

for whatever reason, that response alone didn't satisfy you. you had an uneasy feeling in your stomach for the rest of the day. you remember calling miles that same night while you both did homework. in the midst of the comfortable silence that had settled, you decided to bring up how you felt about what had happened.

"i won't lie, earlier today, i was a little scared," you admitted.

"of what?"

"i thought you were gonna ditch me for arielle," you replied, letting out a deep sigh at the same time.

"i'd never," miles promised you. "te amo, chica. and only you. i'm with you for a reason."

"i love you, too," you grinned, genuinely feeling at ease. "i was just paranoid. i know now that you'd never do that to me."

the invasive thoughts that often crowded your mind and kept you up late at night; the ones listing each and every reason why your relationship with miles would crash and burn? they haven't bothered you since then.

©maybemymali

[blacklesbothatlovestowrite]

A Spark Ain't Never Felt This Good

(S/n: I OG had How Does It Feel by Chloe & Chris Brown as the song when I first started but changed it as I felt Jeans fit better once I finished the last leg of it today.)

Shuriri x Masc Reader

Summary: Shuri and Riri have been together for almost 3 years and start to feel as though they've hit a plateau in their relationship. In comes Masc Reader who gives them just the spark they were looking for.

Stem Shuri, Fem Riri & Masc Reader.

Warnings: Smut, Threesome, NSFW.

Never thought I would post this but thanks to @desswright29 and an Anon here ya'll go. 🫣 I'm kind of nervous because when it comes to masc writing I feel awkward like I don't fully grasp the personality, and air they have around them even though I'm currently writing two fem x Stud/Masc books in RL.

I OG had other plans for the end of this when I'd first wrote it but quickly abandoned it. Maybe if ya'll like it I'll add a part 2 with the OG smut idea I had for them. (DP, Triangle Oral and Anal) my mind was going to very smutty places 😭

-

"Yo, can you take your shit off of my work table?" Riri hissed, she was beyond tired of Shuri tossing her shit around everywhere.

"Don't talk to me like that, Ri..." Shuri snapped, her eyes narrowing at the shorter girl. At times she wondered why she still bothered. It seemed anything she did got under Riri's skin.

"Then pick your shit up and stop fucking littering my space!" Riri rolled her eyes, crossing her arms and waited for Shuri to remove her stuff.

Shuri took a deep breath trying to calm herself. She wasn't one to disrespect others but Riri made it hard at times to keep her composure.

She gathered her kimoyo beads she'd been tinkering with and her tools and moved them to the other side of the work room that was hers. Once she'd finished she turned back towards Riri and watched her.

"Sthandwa, how about we go out for dinner?" Shuri suggested. It'd been a while since they'd done anything together let alone for each other, not for Shuri's lack of trying.

"I'm good. I don't feel like going out." Riri declined, not in the mood for anything.

"What if I ordered something?" Shuri tried to compromise.

"If you want, but as I said I'm good." Riri shrugged.

Shuri sighed before heading out of the work room. She was starting to become fed up with Riri's attitude and actions. They hadn't had sex in months. They hadn't even slept in the same bed in almost as long. It felt as though they were roommates rather than partners.

She often wondered if there was someone else, or if Riri just simply stopped caring about her. She hated feeling like this. She hated feeling as though Riri didn't give two fucks about her. And it was slowly starting to wear her down as she agonized over their rapidly declining relationship.

A knock on the door broke her out of her thoughts. She shook her head and went to open it, staring in shock at who was there. She hadn't seen you in a long time and she sure hadn't been expecting you.

"Y/n?" Shuri gasped. "What are you doing here?"

"You sounded off on the phone, so I decided to pull up." You shrugged, looking her up and down. You bit your bottom lip as her eyes dilated. You and Shuri had been friends for years and friends with benefits for a while before you'd moved away.

You both kept in contact with each other, not letting distance come between your friendship. You'd been happy when she'd found Riri. She was hot, with beautiful chocolate eyes and a devious smile. You were content in knowing Shuri wasn't alone any longer.

"Now's really not a good time--" Shuri frowned, thinking of her current predicament with Riri. She'd told you how trying Riri was at times and refused to have a more dominant attitude towards the small girl.

"It's the perfect time." You insisted, pushing past her and heading inside. You weren't stupid. You knew Shuri was begging for your intervention, Shuri wasn't some meek girl if she wasn't forcing Riri to submit it was because she wanted you to do it and she wasn't going to ask because she was too prideful at times.

"Y/n..."

"Nice crib, It looks better in person." You say as you place your suitcase by the sofa.

"I'm heading out." Riri said, and Shuri looked over to see Riri had showered and changed. She had on one of Shuri's oversized sweaters that stopped mid thigh and some heels.

"Where are you going?" Shuri questioned, not understanding how she could be going out when she'd just said she wasn't interested in going out. The with her part silent.

"Out, do I need to give you a run down itinerary of my plans?" Riri scoffed.

"Alright, enough!" Shuri declared, staring Riri down. "I've had enough of your behavior and attitude. I've been patient, I've been loving, I've been understanding and all you've done is spit on every attempt."

Riri stared at Shuri in shock. She'd never seen Shuri get so angry before. Like a flip was switched she felt her body shiver.

You watched Riri's body taking note of the way she responded to Shuri. You smirked, realizing just why she was acting so bratty. You'd had too many women in your bed to know exactly what was going on.

"I see you haven't learned anything from me, Entle." You clear your throat, raising a brow at Shuri. "Have you forgotten how to tame brats like her?"

Riri finally noticed you and her eyes narrowed. She'd seen many pictures of you before, and she knew all about you and Shuri's phone calls. She couldn't help the envy that emerged at seeing you in their home. She'd spent months being angry at Shuri for being able to talk to you about things she didn't talk to her about. Angry at the way Shuri's face looked whenever she talked to you, or about you.

"Don't talk about me as if I'm a child." Riri hissed, glaring at you.

"You're certainly not one." You grinned, taking in her figure. Even in the oversized sweater, you could tell she had a beautiful body.

"Y/n..." Shuri warned already seeing where you were going. She knew how you looked when you were being mischievous or when you were aroused.

"Maybe little miss brat needs some reminding just how good a girl she's got." You say, walking towards Shuri and kissing her. You felt how Shuri melted in your hold, as your tongue roamed her mouth.

Your hold tightened as you gripped her hips, relishing in the way she moaned for you. As much as she loved being able to lead, she loved being able to submit to you.

As the two of you kissed, Riri's core started to react. She felt confused as the sight of the two of you had her jealousy replaced with lust. She watched you with interest. You had on a white long sleeve top, with gray joggers on. Your neck was adorned with two chains and your hair was covered with a durag.

You pulled away allowing Shuri to catch her breath. Her eyes were hooded as she tried to control her breathing. Fuck, she's missed this.

"Brat, strip your clothes and let me see you play with that pretty pussy." Your eyes still locked with Shuri. You expected some attitude or snarky response, but received neither as you watched Shuri's eyes widen.

You turned to see Riri fully naked, and heading for the sofa. To say you were shocked would be an understatement. You'd expected more mouth from Miss Williams after what Shuri had told you about her.

"It seems she does know how to stop talking and listen." You said to Shuri, your eyes glued on Riri's form as she sat on the sofa with her legs spread. You watched her glistening pussy, your mouth starting to water as she ran her nails through her slipper folds.

"Fuck!" Shuri groaned, she'd been sexually frustrated for months. Yet the thought of having Riri and You was causing her mind to go crazy with different positions she'd fantasized about.

This was a hidden desire she had never thought would have happened. The thought of how you fucked her so good with your strap she'd personally created for you was constantly on her mind. She couldn't help thinking of what it would be like if you all linked up and threw down. She knew you were a wild card. You got bitches, it was a fact. You were more experienced, as you were the one to start her sexual journey.

"Ssssss..." Riri hissed as she slid two fingers inside herself, it'd been so long since she'd had a release that her pussy was sensitive.

"Look at the way that fat pussy is taking those pretty fingers." You praise her, pulling Shuri over to the sofa and pushing her down beside Riri. You sit on the coffee table opposite Riri, eyes glued to her pussy sucking her fingers in. The wet, squelching sound like music to your ears.

"How long has it been since this pussy was touched?" You demand, urging her to look you in the eyes. She bit back a moan as she continued fingering herself.

"6 months..." She cried out, her chest heaving as she tried to fight her impending orgasm.

"6 months?" You repeated. You hummed to yourself, then grabbed her hand that was giving her pleasure and moved it away from her juicy hole. You tsked, shaking your head. "You've been denying Shuri this pussy for 6 months? Denied Yourself Shuri's sweet pussy?"

Riri swallowed back the rage, she was frustrated. She wanted to cum so badly, her pussy was throbbing and you were toying with her. She wanted to cuss you out so bad but knew you wouldn't allow her to cum if she had. Shuri had told her about some of your exploits with other women and she knew you enjoyed punishing stubborn women.

"Look at her." You laughed, tilting your head. "She's all quiet and submissive after all that trouble she gave you."

Shuri bit her lip, she was sure you could get Riri in check. She didn't have the heart to punish Riri the way she deserved for her behavior. Instead she'd been trying to cater to Riri but she knew Riri needed someone who could put her in her place.

You lifted slightly to push down your joggers and tapped the kimoyo bead on your bracelet Shuri had given you to activate your strap. You watched as both women stared at the black strap.

"Shuri come suck my strap." You ordered, watching as she quickly got on her knees and took your strap in her mouth. You groaned as you watched her deep throat your strap.

Shuri had designed the strap so it would vibrate at the top against your pussy so only you'd feel the vibrations. You watched Shuri suck the strap, taking it as far as she could.

"Damn..." You sighed feeling the sensations, you'd missed how good Shuri was at this. The sight of her taking your strap all the way down her throat, spit and drool leaking from the corner of her mouth as she sucked the damn near soul out of you.

You clenched your pussy as you heard Riri moan, your eyes snapped to her and you watched as she stared at Shuri's moving head in a trance. You could see her pussy leaking, soaking the couch as she clenched her fists by her side.

"Entle, up." You demanded. Shuri removed her mouth from your strap, a string of spit following her. You grasped her neck and brought her to you and kissed her roughly. "Tell me what you want."

Shuri swallowed, taking several shaky breaths as her mind raced with all the thoughts she had. There were so many things she wanted to try but she was more interested in seeing You turn Riri into a whimpering, screaming mess. She needed her Riri back.

"Do what you do best." Shuri pleaded, her eyes begging for you to help her. You nodded, hating to see that look on her face.

"I'm only going to ask this once." You spat towards Riri. You could see the defiance in her eyes, in her body the way it was tense. She wanted to argue, to fight but she was trying to keep quiet. You knew she wanted you. You knew when anyone wanted you. It was obvious.

"Do I have your permission to have your body?" You stared her down, watching as she tried to fight her instinct to be a brat.

"Yes..." She whispered.

Shuri was unsure of what happened to Riri. She had never seen Riri so quiet, so submissive. Everything was a fight with her, even sex. She was sure she'd fight against you a bit and yet she seemed to be listening, acting and open to everything you were doing and had yet to do.

"Let's take this to the bedroom." You say, as you removed your clothing tossing them along the way. One look at Shuri had her doing the same.

You laid on your back and gestured for Shuri to climb on top of your strap. You had no plans of giving Riri the strap at the moment. You wanted to push her buttons and sexually frustrate her.

As she sunk on you both moaned simultaneously. The strap curved at the head to rub against her g-spot instantaneously. You gave her free reign to do as she pleased, watching as she bounced on top of you, her perky, small tits bouncing as she rode the strap.

Your eyes were focused on where the strap met her pussy, watching as it went in and out. You could already see her cream lining the strap as she fucked herself on your strap. Fuck, you wanted to eat that creamy pussy so bad. But you had a lesson to teach.

"Riri sit on my face." You said, to which she quickly joy obliged. She didn't seem shy about it either, she placed her pussy right on top of your mouth. Her pussy smelled heavenly. You stuck your tongue out and licked, savoring her taste. She had a tart but sweet taste.

You started licking her pussy, your tongue drawing different designs into her pussy. You were skilled at making a pussy flutter and Riri was getting first hand experience in it. She rode your face as you ate her pussy with fervor.

Shuri watched as you ate Riri out, her stomach clenching as she felt the strap stretching her walls and hitting her spot. She was so fucking close, she felt the familiar warmth as you started to thrust up to match her thrusts.

"Ohhhh! Demethi, Undenza ndizive kamnandi sana....(Damn, you are making me feel so good baby). " Shuri cried out as she felt herself getting closer and closer to orgasm. Riri feeling bold, turned so she was facing Shuri as you licked her pussy painstakingly slow.

Riri leaned all the way forward and started licking and sucking Shuri's clit. She watched as you slammed the strap up into Shuri, her tongue slurping the cream leaking from her pussy and swiped her tongue along your strap. You twitched as Riri, pressed her pussy into your face harder trying to force friction. Fuck you wanted to make her pussy gush all over your tongue and face but you weren't going to give her an orgasm so quick.

"Oh.... Fuck, Fuck, Fuccccckkkk." Shuri cursed losing her filter as you hit her sweet spot inside of her. She couldn't handle the tongue on her pussy and the strap drilling her at the same time. She groaned as she squirted all over your strap.

Riri gasped as Shuri's fluids hit her face. She slurped at her pussy, as you continued to pound into her still splashing pussy. The sight had her so aroused her clit started to pulsate against your tongue. You bit on her clit, not hard enough to hurt her but enough to set her body on fire. She arched her back as she felt the urge to cum. You moved her off of your face, stopping her orgasm before it could happen. She was pissed.

"You don't get to cum yet." You informed her. "You have to earn that right."

You could see her wetness spreading over her thighs as she clenched them together. You maneuvered yourself so Shuri was lying on her back and you were on your knees. You bent your head to get a taste of her succulent pussy and sighed. You rubbed her creamy nectar over your strap as you sucked her pussy.

Your tongue was swiping over her clit, as you licked from her clit to her rosebud. You moaned as her hips jerked to get closer to your face. You licked her ass, enjoying how crazy she went as your tongue swiped along her tight hole.

Riri watched im frustration. She couldn't help how wet she was getting at the sight of you and Shuri together. She never thought she'd feel like this. She'd spent so long angry at how close you and Shuri were and it got to the point she couldn't have sex with Shuri without wondering if she measured up to you.

Seeing how you had Shuri writhing and moaning, it was more than obvious she clearly couldn't compare to you sexually. Yet instead of the envy, anger and self consciousness all she could feel was lust. She felt like she could cum from not being touched at this point with the way her pussy was aching.

You pulled away from Shuri's ass and grabbed her legs pushing her knees into her chest. You loved seeing her in this position, and you could hit her so deep. You thrust the strap into her without warning, hearing her cry out.

You couldn't help the smile on your lips as you pounded her sweet pussy, every inward thrust damn near hitting her cervix. You were so deep and she loved it. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was open as she screamed out. You loved when Shuri let you fuck her like the needy little whore she was.

You paused and took one of the kimoyo beads off of your bracelet and placed it on Riri's clit.

"Griot, make that bead vibrate. Keep it between a low and high setting. The moment she starts to pulse against the bead, stop then once she's calmed down continue." You ordered Shuri's AI. Shuri had never used him to aide her in the bedroom so when she heard your words the look on her face would have been comical if you weren't so aroused.

"As you wish Y/n daughter of Wakanda." Griot said.

As the bead started to vibrate against Riri's pussy, you started back fucking Shuri. You gripped her throat in your hand and slammed into her as you choked her. You loved the way her pussy clenched as you squeezed her throat.

"Uhhhh...." Shuri groaned as you fucked her so deep. You watched as her pussy sucked you in, and went faster.

"Please...." You heard Riri beg, as the vibrating stopped. You knew she was desperate for a release.

"Tell. Your. Little. Brat. Just. How. Good. I. Make. You. Feel. Entle." You slammed into her hard with every word, squeezing her throat tighter. Drool was falling from the corner of her mouth as you beat her pussy.

The vibrating started again and you felt a smug satisfaction Tun through you as Riri cried out. You'd seen just how needy her fat pussy was, you knew she was going out of her mind. You placed a second bead on her clit beside the first one all while pounding into Shuri.

"High speed Griot, and once she starts pulsing stop again." You ordered and listened as the vibrating got louder.

"Y...You.... m...make... m..me... f..feel... ssss...sooo... f..ffffuuuccckkking... g..good." Shuri screamed, her voice hoarse. She was slick with sweat and her legs were shaking as you continued to fuck her.

"Fuck!!!!!!" Riri shouted, she was shaking. As the two beads had her vision becoming hazy. Just as she was about to cum, the beads stopped simultaneously and she let out a gut wrenching cry. "Please....."

"Hmmmm. Sthandwa should I give her what she wants?" You ask Shuri. Shuri's eyes opened and she stared at Riri who looked pitiful. Her body was glistening with sweat, she had tears in her eyes and her poor clit was swollen and larger than she had ever seen it.

"Yes..." Shuri folded, not having the heart to see Riri so distressed and needy. You kept the rhythm until Shuri came, gushing all over you and the bed. She looked exhausted as you removed the strap from her pussy, watching as the hole gaped a bit.

"Riri if you want to cum, you need to make me cum." You declared. You made the strap disappear to reveal your soaked pussy and watched as she pushed you beside Shuri on your back. She climbed on top of you and started to rub her swollen pussy on top of you, sobs escaping her as your pussies slid against each other.

You were already wound up from fucking Shuri. The pleasure you got from scissoring with Riri was like nothing you'd ever experienced. Her pussy fit perfectly with yours like no one's ever had. A warm mouth on your nipple had you staring at Shuri's head covered in curls. You moaned as she sucked on your nipple with her skillful tongue, while rolling the other nipple in her mouth.

"Shit..." You hissed as you came quicker than you thought you would. Riri's pussy clearly had the magic touch because scissoring never got you off that fast. Riri feeling your gooey fluid, moved faster. Her pussy was throbbing and her eyes were rolling into the back of her head as she felt the coil snapping inside of her.

"Yesssssssssssss." She screamed, as she gushed on top of you.

"That was so hot..." Shuri muttered watching as Riri collapsed beside you, catching her breath.

"You're such a softy." You teased Shuri. You'd planned on letting Riri suffer a bit longer then when she felt like she was losing her mind, you would fuck her with your thicker strap until her pussy was swollen and sore for a few days so she'd be reminded NEVER to put Shuri through what she had again.

"You love it." Shuri smiled, placing a kiss on your lips.

"Riri..." Shuri started, but she stopped not sure what to say. She wasn't sure she could continue the way things had been. And after what had just happened, she couldn't fathom things going back to the way they were.

"I should give you both some space to talk." You said, knowing they had a lot to figure out. You climbed off the bed but froze as you felt a small hand grasp your wrist.

"Stay..." Riri whispered. She never thought she'd ever utter those words to you but after the night you all had just experienced she didn't want you to leave.

"I--"

"Shuri loves you..." Riri muttered, her voice low. You could tell she was struggling to say what she was saying. "Shuri's in love with you, and up until today I was jealous and angry but... something happened. I don't know what. But I'd like to explore it."

"Oh Ri.... is this why you've been acting the way you were acting." Shuri sounded sad. You didn't dare turn around. You'd spend years trying to pretend you didn't feel much for Shuri other than the love of a friend, pretending you didn't lust after Riri.

"I love you both equally. There's no competition, You both have my heart. I tried for so long to ignore this because I figured Y/n wasn't interested in anything more and you seemed so put off by her.... I never considered this a plausible possibility.." Shuri admitted and you turned, wanting to see both their faces.

"I'd like to try a relationship." Riri fumbled with her hands. She was nervous of what you'd say. Shuri had said you were a player, you never took anyone serious and the thought of you touching other women after being with them had her stomach turning.

"Are you sure?" Shuri wanted to be sure Riri was 100% ok with the idea of trying a relationship with Y/n. It was half the battle in her eyes, she wasn't completely sure you'd want that. You'd never done relationships, stating they were messy and you hated commitment.

"I want you both... I think deep down I've always thought about it even when I felt jealous or even angry." Riri wouldn't look up as she admitted what she wanted.

"I want to try too." You said, shocking the pair in front of you.

Riri's eyes met yours and she launched herself into your arms. You grasped her tightly as her legs locked around your hips.

"Make me yours..." She begged.

And like that. You'd done exactly what the little brat wanted, giving in as Shuri had. Making love to her, slow and full of passion.

As the three of you slept in the spoon position, you could only think that you all fit together perfectly. From tallest to shortest. You, Shuri and Riri.

-

Until next time 💥

[sinsandsweetness]

I adore your mood boards. And honestly your guts to post all of the smutty goodness that you post. I still do some thing’s anonymously just because my anxiety. But anyways, someone posted an ask and a response fic to it in a different fandom and I just…. Guh. I have to send this to you. and

the boys… (yeah the boys: Rick, Daryl, Shane, Merle, Negan) catch you masturbating. In their shirt, or in their vest, shorts, or their bed, or in their truck, etc. how would they react? I’m curious to see the scenario. Or have I asked this before? I send in so many asks I’m surprised you aren’t sick of me already…. 🫣☠️

Or, their reactions to being referred to as, “My boyfriend.” (Or my husband? Hmmmmm I don’t think anyone really gets married in the apocalypse they just move in and take on a last name eventually? Or is that just a Rick/Michonne thing?)

shit, I should go write my own smutty goodness, but my dopamine is so unpredictable. Ugh.

I could never get sick of you! I definitely have a few asks of yours in my inbox that I want to expand on so don’t think I’m ignoring them!

I was definitely nervous at first to post such smutty filth, but it turns out there’s a decent amount of people who seem to enjoy it. I think fanfic in general can be such a great form of escapism. Even smutty stuff can be really healing so I definitely enjoy writing no matter how “adult” the content is. I also think the wonder of Tumblr is that it still is pretty anonymous:) no one here knows me irl so that definitely helps when it comes to being open and gutsy with what I post hahah.

As far as your concepts… I love. I actually have a masturbation fic already started in my drafts so I’ll use this to answer the second half of your ask.

Here’s a quick rundown of how I think the boys would react to you calling them your “boyfriend”:

Rick: he’d get that cocky little smirk he has and wrap his arm around you even tighter. Exuding that, “Yup. that’s right. You’re mine,” kind of attitude.

Shane: I think Shane’s reaction would be really similar to Ricks, he’d look at you with a sexy little smirk. Maybe grabbing your leg under the table and giving it a nice squeeze. Hinting that he’s definitely going to make you repeat it later in the bedroom.

Daryl: I think he would freeze up a little. Like his brain would stop for a split second and he’d look all confused. Thinking to himself, “Boyfriend? Did they really just say boyfriend?”. And at the realization that yes, you did just call him your boyfriend, he’d probably blush a little. Internally having heart palpationsa but trying to play it cool and not let you or anyone else see how giddy it makes him feel.

Negan: if you called him your boyfriend I think he’d feel offended. He’d interrupt the conversation and make you repeat what you said, only correctly this time. “Sorry, uh, my husband…” you’d stammer out, biting back a smile. Secretly loving how defensive he is about the title.

Merle: I think Merle wouldn’t say anything in the moment, but when you’ve left the function or are out of earshot from whoever you were speaking to, he’d turn to you and ask “Boyfriend? Thought you said you didn’t like labels.” “Yeah, well it’s a lot easier than saying I fuck you three times a week and put up with your bullshit so… yeah. Boyfriend it is.” And he’d just laugh in agreement, wrapping an arm around you as the two of you continue to walk home.

(Also, please do write some smutty goodness. I’d be happy to read it<3 )

[pinkacademiaprincess]

Hii sweetyy I luv your blog sm it's really useful , can I ask for new school advice?

New School Survival Guide🎒📚🎀✏️

ty for the ask & the sweet compliment! i'm glad to be helpful 💓 starting at a new school always makes me so excited & nervous at the same time 🫣

starting a new school can be scary, and rightfully so - it's a big shift to your life & your routine. but i've always loved the new opportunities that come along with it! here are some ways to turn nervousness into excitement & make the most of it

create a fresh start

this advice is super common but for a good reason. starting at a new school is the perfect time to debut a "new" self. ofc you don't need to change your entire personality, style, etc. but sometimes after years of the same school, friends, & routine, you find yourself holding onto certain things for better or for worse.

so maybe you grew out of your sense of style and wanna try a new look - you can invest in a few pieces of clothes/ accessories and begin experimenting. maybe you have some toxic friends that you don't wanna keep in your life - time to slowly stop keeping in touch. maybe you've created a habit of not taking class seriously, never talking to teachers, & slacking off - now you can start doing the opposite.

the key here is that you're "creating" your fresh start. technically, you can make those changes anytime, but being in the same situation & surrounded by the same people can be paralyzing. now you're going into a new environment with new people who have no impression or preconceived notions of you. take this opportunity to decide the kind of person you want to be, implement those habits & traits, and show up to your new school as that person!

find a community

probably the scariest part of a new school is finding friends. if you're lucky you might have friends who are also going to be there with you. if not, starting from scratch is scary but doable. it's also really important - humans are social creatures & having people you can rely on & turn to is so necessary!

one way to make friends is by striking up conversations with classmates. this is very accessible since your classes will be full of people you can talk to and see every day.

another way is to find organizations you can join. find out if your school has clubs, volunteer groups, and other organizations for students. pick a few that really sound interesting to you, based on your hobbies or interests. this is a great way to meet people with a common interest, which is grounds for possibly making great friends!

also pick your electives based on things that interest you. if you're taking an art class, sport, or specific subject that you really enjoy, you can find others with the same interests and also potentially make friends similar to you!

be proactive about your studies

from the start, be really diligent about how your new school is structured. every school (and honestly every class & teacher) will be very different in terms of teaching style, speed, and approach to class concepts. figure out as soon as you can how things work so you can adjust appropriately & stay on top of classes. this is especially important if you're transitioning into high school, college, etc.

that's all my advice for starting at a new school! you can look at my old posts for some more school-related advice, which isn't necessarily just for starting at a new school, but can still apply. i wish you all the luck, and i can't wait for you to absolutely thrive at your new school! 🥰

[trutrustories]

STUDY IN LOKI ROMANCE

Part 5: Science/Fiction

Since we're only a few days away from the last episode, I decided to COUNT DOWN everything we´ve got so far ( that can be interpreted very easily as romantic ) and discuss what the actual fuck is going on with second season. Because even though I shipped lokius practically from S1E2, I absolutely did NOT expect this kind of development. (Not that I´m complaining)

Warning: This is gonna be LONG post, lots of screenshots, lots of SPOILERS, lot of "oh-my-god-they-so-cute" language, and little bit of meta.

I originally thought that this post would be everything at once, but since I have just too many screenshots this time around, I´ll have to split it. so every post will be one episode. Color coding means:

IIIIIIIIII = anything, that coud potentialy be just acting choice.

IIIIIIIIII = everything else (tzn.: whatever was written, and/or carefully prepared by filmmakers. )

side note: I already wrote, about how amazing it is, that Mobius is unable to fight but fights anyway and how beautifuly, and ridiculously brave he is HERE. But this is about Loki/Mobius interactions, so I´ll try my best not to talk about THAT. (Even when I´m really happy, that s2 continues with this formula and Mobius is still his completely defenseless while aggressively brave self. I love him, btw.)

EPISODE 1 HERE

EPISODE 2 HERE

EPISODE 3 HERE

EPISODE 4 HERE

38) Loki looking for Mobius in PIE ROOM Hey... this is starting to be suspicious. is this room actual Heart of the TVA, that we didn´t know about ??? Why does everyone accidentally end up here???

39) Loki Time slipping to the theater room (where he had his first long, table converstation with Mobius.)

I´m gonna cry 😭

40) Mobius/Don casually informing Loki, he´s a SINGLE dad and telling him his entire work schedule (not that it´s important for anything, but Mobius is sooo damn handsome in that blue west!!! ) Also Loki staring at him through the window ?! And then being so distracted by him, that it took him interestigly long time, before he realized / accepted that Mobius doesn´t remember him (AGAIN). And he should have know this right away, because he already talked to Casey/Frank.

41) Loki time slipping to Mobius again (right when he started to be hopefull and Happy, that O. B. will be able to help him.

42) Loki glow up - or Loki fixing himself up, to look sexy not threatening fo Mobius/Don. I mean... this is just straight out of romantic movie, I´m sorry. Interesting acting choice there🤣

43) Loki being very nervous while talking to Mobius/Don.

Mobius: "You live around here, or did you follow me home? 😉" Loki: "Oh... no... hahahaha 😅 ... No no. I was... 😳I was actually on my way to the 👉👆👇☝️uh. And... 😨 And I happend to see you, so I... I... I 🫣 just thought I´d just come and say that I´m sorry that I... I... 🥵couldn´t... stick around back there. I was... um... 🤯 I was in a bit of a time crunch. 😅😅😅"

Said God of Mischief.

I´m sorry, but he´s acting here like stuttering schoolgirl with a crush. What exactly are you trying to accomplish, Tom ??? Anyway... I love it xD

44) Mobius dropping everything and forgeting about his two mischievous sons so he can give Loki full attention

45) Wanna buy my wife´s jetski? - oh by the way, she´s long gone, and worst thing about it is the fact, that one of these beauties doesn´t have a rider.

would you wanna ride it with me? let´s jump up on these bad boys

46) "A beautiful union of form and function"

The fact, that Loki remembers that line from S01E02 and that he echoes it back at Mobius, who doesn´t remember him... Like... WHAT? This thing is romantic as fuck. also finaly someone, who will gladly listen to Mobius braindumping about jetskis!!!! YES PLEASE. He deserves it! 💚 they litteraly made for each other!

47) Loki gently helping Mobius/Don through the time door. - while O. B. is struggling with heavy prototype of tempad...

48) "You saved my life, when I first arrived. You saw something in me, that I hadn´t seen in myself."

Can you believe he said that??? Because I don´t. I´m still processing 😭 Also, see? He IS his friend... but O. B. is not. He WILL be (eccept O. B. knows Mobius much longer xDD ) I´m ok 49) "I want my friends back. I don´t want to be alone."

This scene is honestly so tragic. Sylvie helps him realize his true motivations and he looks so desprete. TVA: place, that he should hate is home now. Where he belong. And that´s why he cared so much and tried so hard to save that place. And thing he wants the most are his friends. Their company. (And if it wasn´t obvious, it means primarily Mobius. The man, he called friend several times this season) It´s him, who Loki doesn´t want to lose in the first place.

Loki looks so fucking sad here! I can´t! 50) "It was more about what I wanted."

Not only he says it while we are watching Mobius, but let´s take in the fact, that he says it at all! Like... come on!!! Can´t he be just happy? As soon as he starts thinking that his actions are selfish, Loki will actualy choose what he thinks is better for Mobius and tries to let him go...

The character development in this show is just unbelievable

And finaly: 51) "It´s not about where, when or why. It´s about WHO."

... said Loki, after very, very, VERY long look at Mobius. --------------- Anyway. That´s the check-list. In total, I counted 51 Lokius moment, but if anyone caught something I didn´t, feel free to correct me! the more, the better! 😁 It´s a hella lot of Lokius content. especially since I didn´t expected, like... not even third of it. So yeah. Last part will be kind of a conclusion. I will try to look at possibilities, what could all this mean. What could be the actual intent of writers and filmakers etc. And, simply put it, asking: WHAT THE FUCK 😳

[ryuichirou]

some nsfw lilidia headcanons? 🫣

+

Anonymous asked:

💙 ANON HERE

I REALIZED I NEVER ASKED FOR THE LILIDIA HC!!!

Anyways we know the drill.

Lilidia head canons food please 😌🤲

-------

Yesss finally, people are asking for Lilidia headcanons! FINALLY… I’ve been training my whole life for this.

Once again, I am very happy you guys are enjoying Lilia/Idia, this is so special and so fun.

A quick note before we start: we’re obviously posting this way before Crimson Muscle and Gloomy Samurai meet irl, if you know what I mean, so these headcanons are more speculative than usual. I’ll just cross my fingers and wish that every single thing I’m about to describe becomes canon lol

With that out of the way, the headcanons:

When Idia first realised that his gaming buddy he’d been crushing on is actually Lilia, he got a little bit concerned, because Lilia is quite different from the image of an experienced and mature dominant older man he had in his head. With the way Lilia looks and acts, he is definitely not Idia’s type, or at least he thought he wasn’t until they got into bed and Lilia unleashed his dominant older man power on poor Idia. After that, the realisation hit Idia again: wow, it really is Crimson Muscle-shi, huh.

Lilia is quite amused by Idia. Firstly, the whole situation about him being Gloomy Samurai is still funny to Lilia, not to mention that it was painfully obvious that his gaming buddy had a crush on him. And it’s one thing to see it in how awkward he gets in the chat sometimes, but seeing him all flustered and nervous and panicking because he’s just a socially inept virgin who doesn’t know what to do with his crush? Lilia’s always had a soft spot for introverts. But what Lilia never expected is that he would get to have sex with a Shroud. Pink hair yaaay~

Before the realisation that Crimson Muscle is Lilia, Idia had sex dreams about him, even though the image of the man was very vague and kind of like a combination of certain traits Idia would find attractive, or just his avatar character. Although what Idia does remember very well every morning is the way the man groped and fucked him in his dreams. It goes without saying, but these dreams always leave Idia very horny and frustrated. Idia finds this whole thing extremely cringy and embarrassing, but at the same time he can’t really help it. When he first saw Lilia himself in his dream, it became even more embarrassing. And even more arousing for some reason.

Sometimes the way Crimson Muscle replies to him in chat leaves Idia kind of horny. This mysterious man just has this weird ability to transform Idia from smug and confident into shy and trembling inside in one sentence. And when Lilia gets intentionally flirty, Idia is completely at his mercy. Lilia has tons of fun with how obvious Idia’s reactions are even through the monitor: he had sensed that Gloomy Samurai is quite submissive way before he found out that he is Idia.

And Lilia himself is, once again, very dominant. He is definitely going to act cutely at first, just to flirt and playfully mess with Idia, but when he sees that the cute part doesn’t really do anything but make him uncomfortable (which is also fun for Lilia, to be fair), he’ll start treating him the way he’s always treated the boys he’s slept with: with teasing, but demanding tone, experienced yet very selfish and greedy touch, and actions that would be too much for a regular pillow-princess type of a virgin, but perfect for Idia.

Lilia is very talkative. Sometimes he is playful and even mocking: he’s asking Idia embarrassing questions about how he feels and comments on how tight and tense he is. But it’s not like he’s all fluffy, sometimes his comments get quite harsh and degrading, especially since he sees that Idia enjoys it when he’s being mean to him. It’s not unnatural for general Vanrouge to talk to his lover this way though, he’s done much, much worse.

It’s also not unusual for Idia to mention some bizarre sex thing he’s seen in some hentai as a joke, and Lilia’s reaction is almost always “yeah, I’ve done it”. This scares Idia, but at the same time kind of intrigues him. Although he’s always afraid that Lilia is just trolling him (he isn’t). Or even worse: if Idia expresses that he doesn’t believe Lilia, he’s just going to do that thing with him to prove a point (he really is going to).

Lilia is definitely taking advantage of the fact that he can float, both with regular sex and oral. Idia is very tall, but it’s never an issue for Lilia: he can reach his butt literally whenever he wants. Sometimes as a surprise, just because he enjoys the way Idia flinches and jumps when spooked.

Lilia bites. He’s not as horrible as the tweels, but he does like to leave a bite mark or two on Idia’s neck, when he gets especially aroused during sex. It’s like Idia is dating a vampire or something…

I feel like I owe this one to people: Lilia is bigger than he is supposed to be logically and anatomically. He’s not as monstrously big as I (half-jokingly) draw him, but still big enough to make Idia feel him surprisingly deep and choke on him. To Idia, it really does feel like he is inside some hentai doujin sometimes. Especially when Lilia fills Idia, and Idia feels like he’s about to pass out, because this isn’t even a cream pie anymore, this is something indescribable.

[mickittotheman]

hello new friend! ✨️

saw that post about random questions for your stories, i am yet to read much of your works besides the most recent galladrabble!

so help me get started, what's your favourite fic you've written? maybe your favourite line even? what inspired it?

New friend❗️❗️❗️❗️ 💫✨️ Thank you so much for the ask, I've been waiting to get home from work ALL DAY so I can answer this lol.

So, I do have some (very old) works floating around from past fandoms, but so far the only gallavich fics I've posted have been my drabbles.

But! I have been working on a gallavich fic since like a few weeks before I even made this sideblog, and by "working on", I mean "like over 100k into it so far and not even close to done"

Posting full chapters before I'm done with the entire fic always makes me nervous because what if i have a new idea and need to go back and change something, but I'm always happy to share scenes in the meantime!

Basic premise is it's a vaguely canon-compliant-ish au except they never met growing up. Ian is in his EMT post- Caleb era, and Mickey is newly escaped from the Milkovich House of Horrors and working as a bartender. Inspiration wise, I got this idea for one specific line (from IGGY of all people. like don't get me wrong Iggy is cool and all, but I honestly never thought about him that much until my need to write a stupid pun overcame me) and it somehow snowballed into an Entire Plot.

Anyways, long ramble aside, I have included one of the earlier scenes below if you are interested but if not of course that's fine okay byyyyeeeee 🫣 🤐 😶

__________________

“Third drink of the night, Red,” Mickey says, sliding the newly filled glass of sprite back over to him. “Gonna hafta cut you off soon.”

“Ha fucking ha,” Red grumbles. Glares. Doesn't even try to hide the amused sparkle in his eyes.

He’s been acting weird today, though. Weirder than he usually is, and he’s already usually pretty fucking weird, so that's saying something. 

He keeps shooting Mickey these little looks. Scrunching his brows together. Fiddling with his glass.

Mickey braces himself when Red suddenly takes a deep breath and opens his mouth, dreading what the guy might say. Might ask.

“Why do you call me Red?”

Mickey blinks. Out of all the questions he’d been steeling himself for, that hadn't been one of them. He’s not expecting it. Not expecting the serious look on Red’s face as he asks it. “Uh. Your hair. It’s red,” Mickey says like an idiot, as if the guy isn’t fucking aware of that fact.

Red huffs and rolls his eyes. Squints at Mickey suspiciously. Fiddles with his drink again. “Kinda starting to feel like you just don’t know what my name is.”

“Yeah, I don’t,” Mickey snorts.

Red falters. Nearly tips his glass over. “Seriously?” he asks. Looks a bit put out, a bit annoyed, a bit hurt, and over all really fucking ridiculous. “You don’t remember my name?”

Mickey cocks his brows. “You never fucking told me it, man.”

“I did! I–” Red’s eyes dart around, and Mickey assumes he’s flitting through his memories, trying and failing to find the moment he introduced himself. His skin goes all flushed (and Mickey doesn't think its adorable, because it’s fucking not) and he buries his face in his hands dramatically. “Oh my god. I am such an idiot.”

Mickey bites at his lower lip to reign in the smile threatening to pop up. Raps a fist on the bartop. “You good? You’re looking kinda red there, Red.”

Red splays out his fingers and aims a glare at Mickey from behind them. “Ian. My name’s Ian.”

Ian. 

Mickey rolls it around in his head, on his tongue, getting used to the flavor of it. Ian. It’s good. Short and sweet, just like ‘Red’. Same amount of letters and everything. Flows better, though, the kind of name that sounds good when it's drawn out long and slow in a groan.

Holy fuck does Mickey need to get it together, this shit is getting fucking ridiculous. 

Red– Ian– has regrouped himself while Mickey’s brain was falling to shambles. His pouty glare is back to full strength as he crosses his fucking treetrunk arms across his wide chest and fucking focus, Milkovich. “You didn’t think to fucking ask me what it was? This whole time?”

Mickey shrugs. Rubs at his lip. “Figured if you wanted me to know you would’ve told me.”

Ian uncrosses his arms to flail his hands around. Nearly knocks over his drink again. Mickey sagely reaches over and pushes it out of the danger zone. “Of course I wanted you to know! You think I wanted you to refer to me in your head by the color of my hair every time you think about me?”

“Who the fuck says I spend anytime thinking about your sorry ass?” Mickey shoots out, immediately on the defensive, because yeah, maybe he does spend too much fucking time thinking of Ian, but he’s not just gonna fucking admit to that.

Ian perks up at that. Grins that fucking grin that Mickey knows by now means trouble. “Didn’t say they had to be thoughts about my ass, specifically, but–”

“Shut the fuck up, Red–”

“Ian.”

“Ian,” Mickey mocks. He doesn't think he’s entirely imagining the way something sparks in Ian at the sound of his name in Mickey’s mouth, but he could just be confusing it with the way something in his own body gets set ablaze. 

They both swallow. Mickey can see Ian’s adam's apple bob with it. He forces himself to tear his gaze away from Ian’s throat.

He thinks maybe Ian might be flirting with him sometimes. Maybe. But he’s not sure. Isn’t used to this. 

Before, he’d always scope out his options, settle on a guy who seemed safe enough. Wouldn't have to say a word. Would just catch their eye, cock his brow, and jerk his head towards an exit. If they followed, great. If not, whatever. No skin off Mickey’s back.

He’s never done whatever this shit is. If this shit even is anything. Which, again, it could be.

Probably isn’t. He’s probably just gone too long without getting his dick wet. Is probably just pining like some fucking school girl after the unattainable quarterback, seeing signs that aren’t there. Fucking pathetic.

It ain't right. Mickey’s not fucking pathetic. He’s just not.

+++

That’s what he tells himself, at least, when he’s leaning his back against his front door hours later. Breath still panting, hand still shoved down his now sticky boxers, tongue still tasting Ian’s name, not even having made it to his fucking bed in his rush to get in and get off.

+++

[rosemary03]

I've seen a lot of "roommate" posts, but let's make it more fun and see what perverted roommate Gin ichimaru is like! 😽♡

Nsfw. (perverted gin, mentions of alcohol) part 2

Roommate! Gin, who knocks on your bedroom door every morning to ask what you want for breakfast, he does it with no problem! Although he sometimes embarrasses you because although he always asks your permission once he entered while you were changing (in fact he passed more than once).

Roommate! Gin, who was a bit quiet at first but over time he began to talk more and make shameless jokes on you, he likes to see how you get confused and pretend innocence with his double meaning, oh he knows that you perfectly understood his jokes!

Roommate! Gin, who loves to be flattered, tell him how good his perfume smells or how handsome he is today and you will see how he will be chasing you around the house, bothering you and getting too close to you, making you nervous.

Roommate! Gin Leaving the top buttons of his shirt open so you can see more of his skin, his clavicle and a bit of his chest, Gin thinks that's enough to make you want him, and he's right, he's sexy! ! and you Know!

Roommate! Gin when you're cleaning the kitchen counter, he walks up behind you grabbing your hips, causing his cock to accidentally squash your butt, making him so fucking horny that he still can't wait to drop your pants and fuck you right there. . But he doesn't want to disrespect you, right?

Roommate! Gin, when he saw you drunk and in that cute dress after coming from a party he couldn't help but stiffen up, and it was worse when you stumbled in the corridor, you fell right into his arms! What kind of punishment (or reward) is this? He asked himself, he didn't want to take advantage of you, but he liked you so much that he felt if you touched him again he could cum in his pants at any moment, anyway he helped you to your room . , so you could rest, but the way you talked to him didn't help anything!

“Gin, please stay, wouldn't you like to sleep with me? ”

“Gin, you look amazing today! Maybe I should have stayed and enjoyed the night with you? ”

He didn't do anything despite your requests, he's a gentleman so he just left but without first whispering in your ear that tomorrow when you're both home he's going to punish you for how bad he had today!♡

I have so many ideas with this, maybe I'll do one of Urahara or Grimmjow 🫣

Masterlist.

[judasiskariot]

OC Deep Dive

Tav Edition ~ Saulus

My lovelies @pinkberrytea and @aristenfromwarsaw tagged me 💋❤️ thank you!💗

I tag @alpydk and @goromimii

Pinkberry did theirs so amazing. Always so detailed with love that you really get to the character, almost like a small fanfic about them 😍🌸💗✨️

So I will do it for my Tav/Durge Saulus

What common/uncommon fear do they have?

Saulus is afraid of getting judged because of her Tiefling looks. So when she is nervous she holds her tail like a security blanket. And she is afraid of sticky children hands, grabbing her unasked by her tail and horns. (May have happened, since than she is scared of it)

Do they have any pets?

Saulus LOVES animals, so I would say totally: YES! But I don't know how it was in the temple of bhaal, were pets allowed? If not, she would have a secret one at Baldur's Gate where she can visit it. Sceleritas was kind of her pet. xD Nooo! This is mean. He is her butler and friend! (maybe little bit pet😉) In camp we have Scratch. Now she collects what she can get of course, and the owlbear is NOT her pet, it is her (adopted) son! They will stay with her forever. Therefore she dislikes, despises people who are cruel towards animals.

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

Owlbear cub, Astarion's security blanket, her instruments

What do they notice first in a person?

Be aware! She is a bard who uses vicious mockery very often, so when there is something bad to notice, oh she will and you will hear about in a way you probably will not like. And if you are a little nice to her, she will totally pick it up as flirting, be also aware!

On a scale from 1-10, how high is their pain tolerance?

As Dark Urge I would say high. 8 But I also like the imagination, that she can be both: Very tolerating and than scream and whine about a little scratch when in the wrong place. Like: I not dare looking: Say it, my tail is gone, isn't it?🫣😭 And it is nothing. So 1-8 xD

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

FIGHT ! (Not called Bhaal BATTLE Beer Bard for nothing!)

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

You know the Durge stuff. And YES. She would have no problem calling Bhaal her daddy, Sceleritas is her friend and all the bhaal assassins a family. Seeing it as bard more romantic than it was. Therefore the companions are her family. The owlbear cub her son and later post game she marrys Astarion and they have 4 children. And Saulus wants all the companions never to leave, would like that they all stay together, because they are uncles and aunts of their children. Ketheric Thorm survives and because Isobel do not want him, Saulus declares him as Opa Ketheric for her babies. So she is very very much a family person. (only her lyrics are absolutely not family friendly xD)

What animal represents them best?

Aries or Owlbear because of the cub. Does the slayer count as animal? Than also the Slayer!

What is a smell they dislike?

Rat tea (do not ask...or ask Astarion why)

Have they broken any bones?

I don't know. Maybe yes as Durge. In any case the owlbear cub bit her tail by accident while playing and it was the hell for her.

How would a stranger likely describe them?

Easy to get along with, inspiring, contagious funny and cheerful, sarcastic, sassy, naughty, loudmouth, little bit crazy

Are they a night owl, or morning bird?

As a bard the nighttime is her inspiring witching hours. But she can do both. Drink all night and get wasted, but stand up with the sun above her and with a smile on her lips.

What’s a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?

Hate: rats (again, ask Astarion but he will claim that she loves it) Love: The skin of her loved ones (she likes kisses and love bites), Thisobald's blue beer! (even everyone tells her to stop drinking it)

Do they have any hobbies?

Bard duties are her life! Singing, writing is the thing she does all the time! She loves to party: Drinking and dancing til the morning!

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprise?

She screams because of happiness and than drink, dance and playing songs like there is no tomorrow.

Do they like to wear jewellery?

Yes yes yes, she likes to be fancy! She would wear horn bling bling if she could. But sees the necessities of protection of armour in battle first. DAGGER EARRINGS with helix piercings are her life!!!

Do they have neat or messy handwriting?

As a bard she likes doing calligraphy but when the urge is working in her, her for blood thirsting hands can write very messy.

What are the two emotions they feel the most?

Joy & Love

Do they have a favourite fabric?

Astarion would say his cuddle blanket but it is NOT! (It is scratchy and mean and he...no he does not know it, that is the problem) Let's say...owlbear feathers :D (because the cub wanted Astarion to make a blanket out of his fallen out feathers)

What kind of accent do they have?

I will also look up which voice I used like @pinkberrytea :D Now I am at my second Saulus run and accidently picked my tav Devorah's voice and it freaked me out hearing Saulus speaking in the wrong voice.

[pimento-playing-hopscotch]

Reyes parents spanking fic you say?? 👀👀👀

It exists 🫣🫣But it most likely won’t ever see the light of day- partly because it’s very disconnected but also I already have a commenter who yells at me for writing these kind of fics- like I’m working on one I got a prompt for but I’m already nervous to post it cause it’s gonna make them maddddd

[builtbybrokenbells]

Gold Dust Woman

Amidst a battle of silent pining over Sam Kiszka, y/n begins to believe her feelings are a bit misplaced after months of receiving nothing in return. A night of attempting to drink away his memory results in a messy hookup with the worst possible person. Now stuck in limbo with being in love with Sam, and in lust with his brother, she’s left to navigate her way out of the grave she’s dug for herself.

Read part two here

listen while reading: gold dust woman - fleetwood mac

Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 11k

Warnings: SMUT18+, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), hookups, pet names, sort of angst?, embarrassing crushes, unrequited feelings, some feelings of guilt, drinking, swearing, partying, sorry if I miss any!!

howdy. new series on the way! here’s chapter one! slutty jake is my weakness, so here’s basically a whole chapter of him being a little shit disturber. and surprise surprise, i drew a little inspiration from my fav song, too 🫣 there’s a lot of fantastic work out for the forbidden twin lane, so I’m definitely a little nervous to post. also really trying hard to keep my stuff original! as always, enjoy, please be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!

~

Sam. Sam fucking Kiszka. The bane of your existence, but also the light of your life. Caught between hopelessly pining after him, and also wishing you’d never met him. You found yourself stuck in a never ending loop, constantly battling yourself and always refusing to give in to either side. It was relentless, exhausting, but exhilarating all the same. Always caught up in his minuscule movements, the small expressions that nobody else cared to look for, hanging on to every word as if it was necessary for survival. Whatever was so special about him, you weren’t sure. Even so, you couldn’t deny that you were wrapped around his finger, desperate for a hint of reciprocity. Desperate for the feeling of his hands on you, and the knowledge of what it was like to be wrapped around him. Unfortunately for you, it never came. You never spoke it aloud, never made it known that you felt such a way, because he never gave any idea that he looked at you as anything more than a friend. So, to avoid rejection, and to maintain the peace, you kept your mouth shut. Suffering in silence was better than disrupting the entire friend group.

So you sat, immersed in conversation with his best friend, caring little about the words exchanged, and more about what Sam found himself occupied with across the room. It was uncharacteristic for you, to be so uninterested in the person in front of you, but you couldn’t seem to stop yourself. He was addicting; fuelling you more than any amphetamine, more comforting than any opioid, and haunting you with no sign of easing his hold. And just like any other drug, he gave you nothing except an empty promise of lasting fulfillment. You wanted to rid yourself of him, never again speak his name or think of his face. At the same time, you never wanted him to go away. You wanted every aspect of your life to be laced with Sam’s being, just so you never had to fear losing him.

The liquor in your cup was achingly strong, pleading with you to ease off with each sip you took. Still, you continued, bargaining with yourself that the burn of the alcohol was more soothing than your relentless thoughts about Sam. Plus, it was a sure way to forget about him. “What’s on your mind?” The question almost produced a laugh from you. You looked to the speaker, eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“Uh, nothing of importance.” You answered in the most truthful way possible. Your thoughts were not important; far from it, actually. It was an endless stream of ideas all running back to the same pool of topic. One that wasn’t worth speaking into existence, mostly because you were already certain it would never amount to anything beyond a hopeless daydream.

“Oh, come on, y/n.” Danny pried. “All of your thoughts are important. I think so, at least.” You gave him a chuckle, appreciating his kindness.

“You ever get the feeling that the universe put something in your life solely to make you suffer?” You posed the theory, finally looking to meet his eyes.

“I mean, yeah.” He nodded. “Karma is real, I believe in that stuff.”

“Yeah, me too, but that’s not really what I mean.” You eased back into the sofa, feeling the tingle of tipsiness start to spread throughout your limbs.

“What do you mean, then?” He took a long sip from his bottle of beer, making you turn up your nose in disgust. You had no idea how anyone enjoyed the stuff. Alcoholic bread water was not your choice of beverage, and you made sure the boys were aware of that. You hoped maybe they’d jump off the beer train and settle on a drink that actually tasted good, instead of pretending to enjoy the bottles of craft swamp water.

“I don’t think it’s necessarily karmic. Sometimes, people do as much good as they can, and still seem to find themselves in the middle of suffering.”

“So, bad luck?” He chuckled, trying to piece together your drunken ramblings.

“Sort of,” you shrugged. “It’s hard to explain.” You dismissed the topic, regretting bringing it up in the first place. Perhaps you were letting the alcohol lead the conversation, failing to understand that it would ultimately lead back to the boy you were trying to drown the memory of.

“I’ve got time.” He assured you. You reached for the bottle cap resting on the table, flicking it in the air with your thumb and catching it in your palm.

“I don’t think there’s enough time in the world for this, Danny Boy.” You sighed.

“Try, at least. Your drunk rambling is my favourite part of these parties.” You caught his eye, laughing at his admission.

“They tend to be quite comedic, don’t they?”

“Sometimes. Other times they’re pretty insightful, I think. Your alter ego may be a philosopher of sorts. You have a lot of wisdom up there.” He reached over, gently knocking against your skull with his knuckle, giving you a grin. You couldn’t help but return it, despite your despair. As much as Sam Kiszka plagued your ability to enjoy yourself, you found solace in Danny’s company. He was always a great listener, and consistently had a few good jokes up his sleeve begging to be told.

“You’re too kind to me, Daniel. It’s a trap, you know. Inflate my head a little too much, and it’s just chaos. You’ll never get rid of me.”

“I’m fine with that.” He drained the liquid from his bottle and reached into the cardboard box for another. You watched him as he placed the cap to the edge of the worn down wooden table. He brought his hand down on top of it, freeing the bottle effortlessly. “I enjoy your company.”

“Charming.” You hummed, the foam from the carbonated liquid fizzling out the top and spilling on to his hand. “Seems like you’ve made a mess.” You pointed out. He shook off the bubbles, watching them land with a splat against the concrete floor. He wiped his hand on his jeans, ridding himself of the dampness.

“So enlighten me, then.” He settled back into the lawn chair after he pulled it as close to the couch as possible. You pondered your choice of words, unsure of where to begin.

“Karma is effect from cause.” You started, eyeing your drink suspiciously. You leaned forward, grabbing the pint of vodka and placing your cup on the table. As you watched the crystal liquid flow, you let your heart decide when to cut it off. You topped it off with some more soda, returning your attention to your company. “Some things don’t really feel like that. When you do something terrible, you wait for something to come back and bite you in the ass, to cause you some of the turmoil you’ve given to others. At least, normal people feel that way. Some don’t, but that’s another story for another day.” He nodded in agreement. “Sometimes, things happen, or people show up, or whatever it be, and they completely change the way your world works. In this case, I mean in a bad way. You don’t feel like you’re deserving of it, and you don’t necessarily feel like it’s an issue with luck. They’re there for a reason, but it’s just a shitty one.”

“So a lesson.” He deducted. Your eyes shifted towards him, your head cocking to the side ever so slightly. Eventually, you gave a slow nod, appreciating his input.

“Yeah, a lesson. That’s a better word for it.” You guided your straw to your mouth, sucking gently and feeling the spread of warmth fill your chest as you swallowed.

“So what is your lesson, tonight?”

“Haven’t decided yet.” You sighed. “I guess I’m more concerned about the why, rather than the what.”

“Okay, that’s fine.” He agreed.

“Why do some people need lessons? I mean, we all have to learn, but why does it always have to be so disastrous to do it?”

“Guess it leaves a larger impact.” He theorized. “If the lesson doesn’t hurt, you’re less likely to remember it.” You murmured a sound of understanding, realizing he was right. Whatever lesson Sam was teaching you must have been incredibly important, because it hurt like a bitch.

“That’s why they invented alcohol, Danny. So people like us can use it to ignore any hurtful lessons. I’m nothing if not spiteful, even to the universe.” He chuckled, reaching over and tilting his bottle towards you. You knocked your glass against it lightly, a gesture of gratitude for his listening ears.

“So that’s what you want to do tonight? Drink away your lesson?” You nodded.

“For the time being. It’s alright, because it’ll still be trying to teach me in the morning.”You both fell back into a silence, watching the crowd flutter around the room. Your garage had become the scene for social butterflies. Current friends and those of the past always stopping by for a quick chat, a good drink, and enjoyable music. You didn’t mind hosting; it made your home a lot less lonely. For someone who chose to surround yourself with people, you felt that way quite often. Always someone to say hello to, but never anyone to share anything meaningful with.

For a twenty-something socialite, who cared more about a good time than anything else, you’d done quite well for yourself. You started off without much of a chance, born into poverty and destined to remain there. In retaliation, you fought the expectation tooth and nail. You started working the minute you could, and saved every dollar you earned as long as the situation permitted. As soon as you turned 18, you vowed never to look back at your hometown. Since then, you hadn’t. You went to school, got a degree, and continued to work until you collapsed. Then, you got up the next day and continued on. The relentless effort never stopped until your hands were on a set of house keys that you could call your own. Now, you worked on your own schedule as a well-renowned music producer and backpacked off artists success, as you liked to word it.

You would much prefer to be the person behind the glass, but as the world allowed it, you remained behind the scenes. It was certain money rather than blind luck, and you appreciated your security more than passion. It was easier that way, especially with nobody to fall back on. So, you settled for Friday night shows at local bars, just you and your acoustic guitar, and no hope of anybody remembering your name. The too-drunk regulars seemed to love your performances, but as you saw it, any drunk fool appreciated something they could dance or sing along to. The production part wasn’t all bad, of course. It gave you some real friends, which you’d never really had before. Danny, being one of them. Well, all of the boys, really, despite your complicated relationship with Sam.

You’d made plenty of friends through the industry, some lifelong and some temporary. It was a plus to your success, meaning you never had to be alone. If you knew anything about musicians, it was that they loved to party, and you had an ample amount of time and space to do so in. Your house was rarely ever unoccupied, but when it was, the silence was deafening. You’d allowed so much room in your life for company, that you were almost unsure what to do when you were alone. Danny and his brothers solved that problem for you quite easily, always inviting you for hangouts and showing up to your place when the opportunity arose. They never went too long without communicating, and spent even less time away from you. Despite your hesitancy, they had slowly grown into a part of your every day life. As much as you hated loneliness, you also hated vulnerability. Unfortunately for you, they had made it a mission to know you fully, and they were doing a damn good job at it. Although you were still reserved, they knew more about you than anyone else.

As much as you tried to complain, you were eternally grateful for the great connection with such fantastic people. Even though your feelings for Sam complicated the nature of the situation, you couldn’t deny that they were genuine, sincere people, and you were lucky to have them around. They made life more interesting, and curbed the fear of isolation. And, in addition, they were pretty fun drinking partners. “Still thinking about that lesson?” You turned to look at Danny again, finding his concern endearing.

“Not particularly.” You eased his worry. “There’s always a brighter side to the story.” You gave him a smile, one filled with genuineness.

“Do I happen to be the brighter side?” He gave you a look of exaggerated excitement.

“Yeah, whatever, don’t give yourself too much credit.” You laughed. Your attention was grabbed by Josh walking by, a bottle of tequila in his hand and a dopey smile on his lips. He brought it to his youngest brother, bringing the bottle to his mouth and prompting him to take a drink. “We’re next, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, can never really escape him, can you?” You shook your head, still focused on the interaction. Josh pulled the bottle away a bit prematurely, causing a bit of liquor to spill down the front of Sam. It glistened on his chin, dripping down onto the exposed part of his chest, shining in the low light. You swallowed hard, having to stop yourself from fixating on the completely innocent mishap. Still, you couldn’t help but stare at the illumination, wishing to have access to the rest of him, desperate to see more.

You didn’t have time to linger, because just as you expected, Josh plundered towards you both. He made his entrance by producing the alcohol in front of you both with a messy extension of his arm. The liquid sloshed, some catching in the neck and spraying from the top. “You’re wasting precious tequila, Josh. Stop throwing it around like that.” You scolded. He nudged his pit vipers to his forehead, letting you see his eyes for a moment. They were glazed over, only proving his drunken stupor even further.

“Me? Waste?” He challenged.

“Yes, you, wasting.” You replied. He let out a hum of disagreement, taking a step towards you.

“Open.” He ordered. You rolled your eyes, but obliged to the request. You let your lips fall open, tilting your head back to allow him access. He tipped the bottle gently, letting the liquor waterfall into your mouth. You swallowed, fighting back the grimace you so badly wanted to give. He smiled in triumph, quickly turning his focus to your counterpart. You wiped the stray liquid from your face with the back of your hand, unable to escape the smell of it. Danny let out a shudder after his shot, feeling similarly to you.

He didn’t hover long, his mission complete and leaving him ready to move on to his next target. “He’s hammered.” Danny noted.

“Usually is.” You chuckled. “It’s okay, the spare bedrooms are all yours.”

“I can try to get him home,” Danny looked over, worried about overstaying his welcome.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You know you guys can always stay here.” You tried to brush the sentiment off, hoping your tone sounded more nonchalant rather than heartfelt. In truth, you loved the nights they stayed. It meant you didn’t have to wake up to an empty house. You scanned the room, forcing yourself to move past Sam when your eyes inevitably landed on him. He was chatting with a girl you weren’t familiar with. Although the parties were almost always held at your house, that didn’t mean you knew every face or name. Sometimes, friends brought their own friends, or partners, or coworkers. She was likely one of those, who took a keen interest in Sam.

You couldn’t blame her; he was gorgeous. If you had her confidence, you’d be up there with him, too, batting your eyelashes and ghosting touches over his arm with a sultry smile. Of course, that didn’t mean you had the ability to ignore the pain that stemmed from the sight. Your stomach twisted with every lingering smile and flirtatious gaze. You thought it ought of comical, you inviting him over and hoping he’d spend a second talking with you, but he always found himself immersed in another girl who was a bit more interesting than you.

You continued looking, locating Josh with ease. He hadn’t given up as the tequila tyrant, and was still forcing the awful liquid onto others. You were certain he only bought it because it sounded good in theory. Once he had enough of it, he wanted to get rid of it as fast as possible so he didn’t have to drink it anymore. As you searched, you realized you hadn’t seen the fourth boy who so often took solace in your company. You thought it was quite curious, unsure of where he could be. You decided it was best to stop being so concerned with the whereabouts of everyone else, and worry about your own well-being. You’d been drinking for a while, and still couldn’t seem to break out of the Kiszka chokehold. You decided your best course of action was to focus on having a good time, and maybe keep your mind occupied with someone else for the night.

“Beer pong?” You eyed Danny, hopeful for an enthusiastic response.

“Yeah, why not?” He said, making a move to stand. He held his hand out to you, helping you off the couch. As you stood, you realized you may have had more alcohol than you thought, finding your legs a bit wobbly and your head light. Danny kept his hand on you, picking up on it, too. “You alright?”

“Yeah, and you’re gonna get your ass kicked.” You said as a matter-of-fact. You both toddled towards the ping pong table, noticing that it had already been played on a few times that night. You took to one side and Danny went to the other, rearranging your cups in the correct order.

“Hey, I want to play, too!” A voice sounded from behind you. You looked back, noticing Josh making his way towards you.

“We need a fourth, then.” You informed him.

“I’ll get Jake!” Josh was normally loud, but with a single drop of liquor in his system, he always found himself stuck in a state of permanent yelling. It was something you had to grow used to. The adjustment period was not easy, mostly because every time he tried to speak to you, you thought he was yelling at you. After a few weeks and a lot of reassurance, you began to notice that he also spoke that way with everyone else. Now, things seemed too quiet if Josh wasn’t around to make a ruckus.

As if it were some sort of secret twin telepathy, within moments Josh returned with his brother. After not seeing him all night, Josh seemed to have the power to locate him as he wished. The two made their way over, Josh immediately joining Danny on his side of the table, leaving you with Jake. Not that you minded, but the unspoken assumption was a bit rude, you thought. “And where have you been, all night?” You asked Jake, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He asked, taking a stand next to you.

“Obviously, or I wouldn’t have asked.” You grabbed a ball out of a cup, shaking the water droplets off the plastic.

“Don’t be like that, now.” He smiled. You looked to the side, catching a quick glimpse of his face. The mystery of Jake was yet to be solved. He was quiet, always a bit more reserved than the rest, but hilarious in his silence. Most of his jokes were spoken through expression, and every phrase was well thought out and immaculately delivered. You were yet to break through his shell, and you were eager to see more of him; a need for connection beyond the surface, even.

But, even so, it was the same with you. You had mastered the illusion of connection without really having to share too much. It was a way of protecting yourself, even if it was a little fake. Despite that, the friendships you formed with the four boys were more real than any you’d ever had. Even if they barely knew you past the surface, it didn’t make the love you had for them any different. They knew more than any one else, and you were sure with time, you’d get comfortable enough to open up a bit more. “I’ll be nicer if you can help me win this.”

“What’s the reward?” He asked. You could feel his eyes burning holes into the back of your skull.

“Guess you’ll have to find out.” You replied, taking your first shot. The ball bounced off the rim of the solo cup, falling inwards and plopping into the water.

“Don’t get me excited.” You could hear the smirk in his words before he even stepped into your line of vision. He lifted his arm, tossing the ping pong ball with little care. You watched it land in the cup that yours had, unsure of how he lined up a shot like that without even trying. You looked towards him, finding he was already looking at you. “Better be something good, sweetheart.” A tingle ran down your spine at the pet name, never having heard such an endearing word from him.

You weren’t sure what it was. Maybe the vodka, or maybe how the light, even as dim as it was, seemed to cast a golden glow over his features. Or maybe it was his quiet tone and impactful words, or the scent of whiskey and sandalwood, paired with the faint lingering of a Cuban cigar that was heavenly enough to burn itself into your memory. Whatever it be, for the first time in the entire history of knowing him, Jake caught your attention in a way other than friendship. He was hot, and that little monster of a voice in your head was screaming it over and over again, not letting you forget it. The close proximity of his body to yours was driving you insane, leaving you curious as to what it would be like to reach out and touch him, just for a moment. The bottom two buttons of his shirt that were holding it together was not leaving much to the imagination, and you were quite thankful for it, tonight. Although, you did find it a bit limiting. A hidden desire arose, leaving you wanting to rip it from his body to expose the rest of him. Once it appeared, it didn’t seem to want to go away.

In your moment of weakness, the animalistic nature of your attraction posed a residual feeling of guilt, almost as if you were cheating on Sam. You were painfully aware that the feeling was ridiculous; the memory of Sam’s arm snaked around the unnamed girl quickly pushing its way to the forefront of your thoughts. Clearly, he had no interest in you, so why should you feel guilty over such a simple, natural feeling? It wasn’t as if you professed your love to Sam and immediately took to Jake within the same minute. Attraction was normal, human nature, and you felt no need to be shameful about of it. Both men were completely unaware of your affection, and it would be easy to navigate, specifically because of their ignorance. Silent pining and daydreaming about both of them was fine, you deduced, because you were confident in your ability to make sure they never found out. Besides, you were in love with Sam, and attracted to Jake. Two very different things, and neither would ever cause an issue as long as they remained unspoken.

So, you decided, if Jake was willing to initiate it, a night of harmless flirting wouldn’t matter. In the morning, you’d both move on and forget it ever happened.

It’s crazy how the human brain can justify a terrible decision when you want it bad enough.

“Your turn, angel.” Jake broke you from your internal brooding with a delicate hand on your back. For a moment, you thought you could live in the feeling of his touch forever. He handed you the spare ball with his free hand, the cool water on his fingertips offsetting the surging warmth of his skin. You took it, meticulously arranging yourself in the perfect place before throwing. Another splash of water signified the landing of the shot, causing a noise of triumph to sound from you. When you came down from your momentary excitement, you could still feel Jake’s palm resting on you. It was an intriguing sensation, imploring you to think further about the nature of the gesture. “Hidden talent?”

“Wouldn’t call it hidden. Maybe you just don’t know me as well as you thought.” You quipped. He elected not to respond, throwing his ball and landing it in another cup.

“If we win, you gonna let me see all the parts of you you’re keeping secret?” He said, leaning in provocatively close to your ear. You weren’t sure where his newly found fixation on you came from, but you weren’t complaining. Maybe the cloud of whiskey he enveloped himself in was calling the shots, pushing him to test his limits. Before now, you couldn’t recall a time where your conversations even toed the line of flirtation. Unless, you’d been embarrassingly oblivious to his advances, which you wouldn’t be fully surprised if that were the case. You were a professional at overlooking even the most obvious displays of interest, so much so that even the current situation had you second guessing his lingering touches and provactive statements. Plus, with the added distraction of your feelings for Sam, the idea of romance with another person never really crossed your mind.

“Depends on how bad you want to know about them.” You replied, the note of disregard for his statement seemed to spark a nerve in him, driving him a little bit crazy. He was nothing if not fond of a challenge. And in his eyes, you were more than worth the effort.

“Stop flirting and focus on the game!” Josh hollered, catching both of you off guard. As if you were two children being scolded by a parent, you both took an immediate step away from each other with a hint of a blush on your cheeks. With that, Josh threw a cannon of a shot and completely missed the table.

“You don’t even have any distractions, what’s your excuse for being shit?” Jake taunted, a laugh hidden in his jab.

“Have you looked at me, lately, Jake? I’m beautiful. I don’t have to be good at anything.” The comment rolled so slickly from his tongue, like he’d completely forgotten he was supposed to be joking and was speaking straight from the heart. Jake cocked his head to the side, trying to relate the two together and make some sense of his statement. You let out a little laugh, nodding your head in appreciation of his words. You couldn’t deny that all four boys were very attractive, even if you had a hard time seeing past Sam and his blinding beauty. “See, even she agrees.” Jakes eyes flicked towards you, inquisitive of your quick response.

“So what does that make me?” He asked you. You watched him, unsure of what he was hinting at. “If I’m good at the game, does that mean I’m not beautiful?” He clarified. You swallowed hard, the bluntness of his question hitting you with force. He gave a small smirk, one that radiated cockiness. He knew your answer without you even having to reply, but he was determined to hear the words.

“No, you… you are.” You assured him, feeling ridiculous for stumbling over your words.

“Glad you think so, sweetheart. You are, too.” He turned back towards the table, not lingering to watch the redness spread across your face, fully satisfied with your response. Josh caught your eye, giving you a wink that said more than any words he could speak. Even in his drunken state, he was painfully aware of his twin brothers intent. You looked to Danny for guidance, only to find him choking back a laugh and unwilling to hold your gaze.

‘Great’ you internally grumbled, mortified at the attention being on yours and Jake’s current situation. Whatever that was, exactly, was completely unknown to you. You were stuck somewhere between wanting to tell him to fuck off, and wanting to tear his clothes off and have your way with him right there. You had no idea when Jake became such an outlet for your closeted wants. No clue if he just suddenly became so attractive, or if he had been the whole time and you were just blind to it. Either way, every hint of cologne, sideways glance, every ghost of a touch, each laugh that fell from his lips, and every word he spoke was driving you crazy.

“Last shot, y/n. Make it count.” He hummed, taking a step back from the table. You have a curt nod, silently letting him know you would. You aimed, ensuring your arm was steady, and held your breath as you tossed the ball. It circled around the rim, leaving all of you on edge. After a few seconds, it rolled off to the side, sadly plummeting to the table and bouncing to the floor. You let out a long exhale, disappointed in the outcome. It was the only cup you’d missed so far. “S’okay,” Jake gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “I got it.” You took a step back, allowing him to take his turn.

Once again, with a lax stature and careless approach, he threw the ball and effortlessly landed it in the cup. A collective groan sounded from the opposite side of the table, both boys floored over the fact they lost. Instead of focusing on their bellyaching, your attention was completely stolen by Jake snaking his arm around you in celebration. You turned your head towards him, noticing nothing but the breathtaking beauty of his smiling face. He pulled you into his side, hand resting dangerously low on your back.

“Nice job,” you breathed, the warmth of his body distracting you from anything else in the room. He turned his head down to look at you, his face inches from yours.

“You, too.” You relaxed into his hold, playing into whatever game he’d started. You turned your body towards him, placing a kiss on his cheek. He wasn’t expecting the sudden change of pace, his fingers tightening against you. “Come and find me if you’re willing to share those secrets, angel.” He said, mouth practically on your ear. Before pulling away, he placed a small, innocent kiss to the side of your head where his lips were hovering, as if it balanced out the filthy invitation.

Before you could respond, he disappeared again, much like the entire scene was a figment of your imagination. The only reason that led you to believe it was real was the residual tingling he left on the spots he’d touched, and the prickle of goosebumps across your skin. That, and the growing feeling of arousal in the pit of your stomach. You looked back to the table, cheeks flushed and heart racing. You grabbed your drink, hoping to sip away the memory, painfully aware of how easy it would be to chase after him. How easy it would be to take him to bed, to give in to the temptation of feeling him on you, or in you, more so.

You bit down on the inside of your lip in a desperate attempt to satiate the sinful thoughts you were having about Jake. You knew you weren’t supposed to be feeling such things for him. Your blind, although misplaced, loyalty to Sam was screaming at you to stop. Still, there was a small, but loud, little devil that took permanent home in your head. It was ensuring you that one night wouldn’t be so bad, that the feeling of his hands, and his tongue, would help you to forget anything other than pleasure. You swallowed hard, forcing your imagination to stop fabricating such grand ideas, forgoing the straw on the drink and chugging the rest of it down.

“So, is that the lesson you’ve been so deep in thought about?” Danny asked, now presenting himself in front of you. The shock of his company cause you to inhale a bit of your drink, leaving you coughing and sputtering for a moment. He gave you a couple firm pats on the back, aiding you with the expulsion of the liquid from your lungs. Once you recovered from the moment of disarray, you looked to him, not being able to find a proper answer.

“Uh, not particularly.” You chuckled.

“So maybe this one’s an answer. Or an apology from the universe for all of the turmoil.” He grinned. It was so characteristically Danny to always have something positive to say. He was a little ray of sunshine, never getting on anyone’s bad side and always trying to keep the peace. Normally, you loved him for it. Now, with the presentation of his new idea, you wanted to strangle him for instilling such an thought in your head. You wished he would have called Jake out on his abnormal behaviour, or scolded you for playing with fire. Perhaps, you thought that deep down, he knew what you were struggling with all along, and this was his way of letting you down easy. But, you would have preferred him to say anything other than speak encouragement for the incredulous notion, even if it happened to be him telling you that Sam hated you. Any discouragement for that little devil in your head would have been helpful.

“Probably just another lesson, Danny Boy.” You sighed, making a move towards your bottle of alcohol. You poured yourself another drink, hoping the subject would drop off into another, less invasive one.

“Not everything has to be a lesson, y/n.” He scolded, but his tone was light. “You’re allowed to have fun, too, you know.”

“Seems like more of a headache to me.” You grumbled as you screwed the cap back on the glass bottle.

“Jake is quite delightful to be around, actually.” He insisted. Instead of responding, you continued to focus on your drink. He tapped his foot against the ground in an impatient manner, expecting a response.

“Headache, Dan.” You finally answered. “Can’t really go sleeping around with my only friends. Sounds messy, to me. Perfectly fine how things are. If he wants to flirt himself to death, he can be my guest. I’m sure tomorrow he’ll come to his senses.”

“Always such a negative Nancy.” He let out a disapproving tsk. “Balls in your court. I won’t push you. On another note, I am willing to hear all about those so called lessons you seem to dread.” He took his earlier seat in the lawn chair, relaxing into it. He grabbed another beer as he did so. “If you want to share, of course.”

“You’d love to know, wouldn’t you?” You smiled.

“Yeah, obviously.”

“Little gossip rag?” You teased. He let out a laugh.

“So that’s what I get for wanting to help out a friend?”

“Yep,” you popped the p at the end of the word, giving him a smile. As much as you disliked his persuasion in regards to Jake, he was still your best friend. You couldn’t find it within yourself to stay annoyed with him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go freshen up. Winning a game of beer pong really takes a lot out of a person.”

“Oh, okay, whatever.” He rolled his eyes. “We let you guys win.”

“Careful.” You hummed. “Nobody ever teach you that you shouldn’t lie?” He waved you off, dismissing you completely. You shuffled away from him, your giggle lasting until you were long gone from his company.

You disappeared through the side door of the garage, leading into the kitchen of your home. When you got inside, the first thing you noticed was a group of people gathered by the table, mindlessly drinking and conversing about nothing spectacular. So much so, that you didn’t even bother to listen in or look for a familiar face. You continued on in search of the bathroom, happy to find it vacant. You closed the door behind you, letting the tough exterior fall along with a long sigh. You turned to the mirror, studying your face for a moment. Your makeup stayed valiant through the nights events, the only wear being your lipstick. You searched through your cupboards, locating your makeup box and pulled out the correct one, reapplying it where need be.

When you were satisfied, you did the rest of your business and washed your hands. When you returned to the hallway, the muted chatter in the kitchen was still lingering, but there was a softer, more alluring tone coming from the direction of your bedroom. You turned your head towards it, following the sound almost as if it were calling to you. When you peeked your head inside, a soft smile began to grow on your lips. Jake was sat on the edge of your bed, hair falling in front of his face, picking away at your acoustic guitar.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to play my guitar, Jacob.” You teased, but your words were gentle and there was no malice present in the air. He looked up to you, a bit startled by the sound of your voice.

“Oh, sorry. Figured you wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t.” You assured him. “Why are you up here all alone? Party too boring for you?” You took a step inside, a step closer to him, one that you shouldn’t have made at all.

“No,” he shook his head, attention now focused on you. “Just a lot, I guess. It’s fun, I like it, but I’d rather do this.”

“Want me to leave you to it?” You asked, worried you had intruded. He laughed at your question.

“Asking me permission to stay in your own bedroom?” He cocked an eyebrow up, tilting his head to the side to make sense of the question. You almost expected a witty comment to follow, but he bit his tongue.

“No,” you said, pondering what you were really asking. “Uh, I guess I was just wondering if you wanted to be left alone.” You gave an anxious chuckle.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous.” He noted. “Don’t mind company, especially if it’s you.” You felt the same dreaded redness creep onto your cheeks, unsure if you should advance. He patted the spot beside him on your bed, finding your hesitancy in your own home ridiculous. You took to the mattress, sitting cross-legged beside him. Your eyes immediately drifted to his fingers on the fretboard, which lead to the veins standing so prominent on the back of his hand, all the way up his arm, and to the flash of skin you could see on his chest. Once you’d studied every available part of him, your eyes landed on his face. He gave you a smile, not feeling a need to chastise you for the admiration. “You want to play?” He asked. You shook your head, almost immediately rejecting the idea.

“N-no, I don’t really play much. The guitars are mostly here for decoration.” You lied. Soon after, you realized you couldn’t pull a trick like that on a seasoned musician.

“Hmm,” he lifted the guitar so the top was facing him, eyes dancing over the strings on the fretboard. Then, he pulled it away from him, checking over the back of the body of the guitar. “These strings are awfully worn in. The back seems to have a couple nicks from,” he safely put the guitar back in his lap, reaching over and hooking his finger through the chain on your neck. “A necklace.” He gave you a small smirk. Once again, the feeling of his hand sent shocks of electricity through every nerve in your body, setting you on fire. “The pick-guard is scratched to shit, and it happened to be in perfect tune when I picked it up.” He listed, letting the chain drop back to your body. Instead, he gently ran his knuckle over your cheek. “You lying to me, Angel?”

By that point, you knew there was no escaping the truth. “Okay, maybe I play a little bit. Not the best, though. Mostly just campfire tunes.” You shrugged, internally cringing at your pathetic attempt at a lie.

“I don’t think the owner of the pub on Main Street would ask you to play there if you weren’t any good, sweetheart.” There it was again, sweetheart, angel. He was trying to kill you with the pet names, you were sure of it. Once you moved past the terms of endearment, you snapped back to reality with a flash of dread. He had a laugh at your bewildered expression.

“Stalking me, Jacob?”

“No, although tempting. Could watch you play all day. You’ve got quite the voice.” He complimented. “Just happened to be there one night, got bit of a shock when you jumped up on stage.”

“You never said anything,” you said, watching him carefully. “I didn’t even know you were there. You didn’t come and say hi.” He gave a little shrug.

“I figured if you wanted everyone to know, you would’ve said something by now.” He explained, letting his fingertips dance over the strings, picking out a tune with ease. “I would have said hello, but I was worried you’d be embarrassed.”

“Oh,” you whispered “thank you, Jake.”

“No big deal.” He assured you. “Your secrets are always safe with me.” He gave another smirk, the sight tugging at your heart. “Is that why you came looking for me? Finally willing to give a few away?” Not even God could save you from the sinful look he casted in your direction. The change in tone almost gave you whiplash. You were sure your heart stopped for a moment, realizing how the scene might have looked. You didn’t seek him with any intention of something more, but you couldn’t help but feel him pulling you in further with each second that passed.

“You’d like that too much.” You mirrored his expression, hoping to feign some look of fake confidence. It worked on the outside, but inside, you were crumbling at the sight of him. His dark eyes felt so wrong looking at you in such a way, but you liked it more than you cared to admit.

“Not into pleasing others?” He teased, gaze flickering down to your lips. “Never pegged you as a sadist.”

“Like I said, lots you don’t know.” You chided. He chuckled, standing for a moment.

“You’d love for me to find out, though, wouldn’t you?” He placed the guitar back on its stand, carefully clasping the plastic latch to ensure it didn’t topple over. His eyes glided across your walls, taking in the minuscule details he’d never noticed before. He’d been in the room plenty of times, but never in such an intimate manner. His eyes settled on the little framed picture above your bed. He read the words after soaking in the photo. “Gold Dust Woman?” He hummed, his stare finally landing back on you. He got a small thrill watching you look up at him, eyes wide with anticipation.

“Great song.” You offered, realizing he’d picked up on the Rumours cover print you’d hand drawn the lyrics on.

“Very fitting for you.”

“What does that mean?” You chuckled.

“Gold Dust Woman…” he said, more to himself. “Beautiful name, beautiful girl.”

“A beautiful song, yeah. Not a beautiful story, though.” He shook his head, letting out a small laugh at your unwillingness to accept the compliment. “In fact, it’s quite sad.” He didn’t respond. Instead, he hummed the melody of the song to himself, completely unaware of anything other than the sound. As he did so, you found yourself admiring the sight of him in front of you, the exposed skin of his torso still keeping your attention and nearly making your mouth water. You knew you should get up, just walk out and leave before anything regretful ensued, but you were captivated in him. The scent from earlier not only lingering on his skin, but entangled in your sheets, now. You realized you’d be quite content if it never went away.

“You’re looking at me like you’re trying to figure me out.” He noted. You shook yourself out of the devils hold, returning to the conversation. “Are you trying to figure me out, Gold Dust Woman?”

“Maybe,” you said. “More importantly, trying to figure out if this is a good idea.”

“What, exactly?” He didn’t move from his position, seeking an advance from you, first. You rolled your eyes, tired of whatever game he was playing.

“The flirting, the touching… the secrets?” You listed. He gave a smile.

“Nothing wrong with harmless flirting,” he explained. “Unless you’re thinking about doing something shameful.” You didn’t know how to answer, afraid of saying the wrong thing. The whole situation was so surreal that you were questioning your own sanity. Half of you believed he may get you to profess your fantasy, then leave you there to wallow in it. But, from all you knew about Jake, he didn’t seem like a deceitful person.

“You aren’t?”

“Depends on what you’re thinking about, angel.” He took a step towards the door, causing your stomach to plummet. You sprung to your feet, ready to stop him in his tracks without a second thought. The idea of him leaving was worse than any other consequence the night could bring. He turned his head towards you, a sly smile stuck on his lips. He knocked the door closed with one swift motion of his arm, turning back towards you. You closed your eyes for a moment, feeling ridiculous at your own habit of jumping to conclusions. Of course he’d be making a move to close the door, rather than leave you by yourself. “Seems like you don’t want me to go.”

“Fuck, of course I don’t, Jake!” You sighed, frustrated with your own inability to make up your mind. He took a step towards you, brushing your hair from your face.

“What do you want?” His palm settled on your cheek, soaking up the warmth. “Hmm?” The little devil in your brain was screaming over every other rational thought. The memory of Sam was barely alive within you, your only focus being on the begging question of what he looked like out of his clothes. “You can say it, baby.” He was close enough that you could feel the vibration of his chest while he spoke.

“I…” you started, unable to properly formulate your words. He waited a moment, just to see if you’d say what he so badly wanted to hear. When you didn’t continue, he took it upon himself to guide you. His hand on your cheek drifted towards your neck, fingers barely touching the back of your neck while his palm grazed the side of it. His free hand found your hip, gently guiding your body into his. His head was downturned slightly to meet yours, his forehead just hovering over your own. The tip of his nose was brushing against the side of yours, the smell of whiskey on his breath was intoxicating all on its own. Every gravitational pull in the universe was pushing you closer to him, begging you to taste his lips, even just for a second. Your chest was burning, searching for oxygen as you continued to hold your breath. You were scared to move, still worried about advancing, but terrified he’d pull away.

“Is this better?” His words were barely above a whisper, but they hit you with force, soaking into your skin and settling in your bones. Your eyes were closed, revelling in the closeness, wanting to think of nothing other than the feeling of him. He lowered his mouth, just barely enough to brush his lips over yours. If the feeling wasn’t so electrifying, you thought you might miss it. With the newest invitation, every moral and ethical thought in your brain was silenced. The only one left was the same, little, red devil who’d been hoping for this the whole night. The only worry left in you was about him leaving without you getting the satisfaction of having him completely.

Without another thought, you pushed through the invisible barrier you’d drawn, finally pulling him into a kiss. His hold tightened, letting you know he was ecstatic about your decision. It was hungry, fuelled by all of tension you’d been feeling all night. You finally allowed yourself the pleasure of letting your hands explore him, something they’d been eager to do for hours. You fought with the two bottom buttons of his shirt, freeing him completely. You brushed in from his shoulders and he dropped his arms, letting it fall to the ground. Your fingers danced over the bare skin, wanting to know every intimate detail the fabric had been concealing. Without breaking the kiss, he slipped his hand from your hip to your ass, pulling you further into him with a force that made your head spin.

When you finally parted, you were breathless and void of any rationality. When he snaked his hands under your shirt to pull it over your head, you were more than willing to comply. You lifted your arms, allowing him to slip it off with ease. You could tell just by his movements that he’d been waiting to get you out of yours, too. His hands went straight for the buttons on your jeans, something in which you greatly encouraged. Once you were left exposed, he guided you to the bed and laid you back on the mattress. You didn’t have time to get a word out, because his mouth was back on yours and he was pulling your bottom lip between his teeth. If you were in your right mind, you would have been more focused on the fact that you were naked and he was still partially clothed. Also, probably concerned with how quickly the situation evolved into what it was. But, the curiosity of his hands was too pleasurable to complain about anything, and the gentle exploration was highly appreciated.

His fingers found your nipple, brushing against it softly, allowing you to get a feel for his touch. When the breath caught in your throat, he rolled it between his fingers, giving a soft pinch. He smiled against your lips when you tensed in response to the action, his cockiness still taking up space in the room, even during sex. His lips trailed from your lips down your neck, silently searching for another spot that would give him a reaction. He settled below your ear, lingering there after you’d let a breathy moan slip past your lips, pleased with himself once again. He made quick work at sucking marks into the skin, easy enough to hide, but present enough to remind you of him. The last thing he wanted was for you to wake up in the morning and forget all about him.

He was settled between your legs, one hand still resting on your breast while the other held himself steady on the mattress. After he was satisfied with his work on your neck, he continued further, familiarizing yourself with every available part of you. He let his teeth graze over your collarbone, the unfamiliar sensation seeing you on fire. If his mission was to leave you desperate for him, he’d done well. You were a mess below him, unable to contain the whimpers and sighs falling from your lips. You wanted more; the teasing and the playfulness was fun, but you’d been craving him all night. The wait was unbearable, almost making it hard to enjoy the attention he was already giving you. When he pulled your hardened nipple into his mouth, you realized you were completely willing to do whatever he asked of you, as long as there was a promise that he’d never stop.

In your desirous state, you realized that maybe that little devil you had in your brain was instilled in his, too.

No, you were certain the actual devil had buried himself in some part of Jake.

There was no rational explanation for the pleasure he was granting you just by his simple touches. It was sinful; every movement had to be laced with evil. Nothing pure could ever be so exhilarating. You were certain whatever power he had within his hands and his tongue had to be unholy, because in that moment, there was nothing you wouldn’t do to feel it again. The indisputable fact was hanging thick in the air: no matter how much guilt you felt about your entanglement with him, it was nothing in comparison to the inebriating feeling of him on your skin.

As his fingers sunk between your legs, dancing through the parts of you he’d been so desperate to know, you knew that you were fully tangled in his web. There was no way you could walk away from him, now. The act both of you were engaging in was blissful, that much was undeniable. But the lengths you would go to for the feeling of him between your legs was godless. You thought, if the decision of letting him bed you was a good one, there was no way it would have produced such an immoral desire within you. But, the mistake was already made, and you were dancing with the devil. Whether the devil being his hands or his tongue, or him as a whole, you weren’t sure. The relationship was solidified purely by lust, now, and no distance could drive away your need for him.

When his fingers slipped inside you and the pad of his thumb brushed over your clit, you were practically ready to come undone just by the first movement. Crying his name, biting your lips to silence yourself, but failing miserably. His unwavering silence was unnerving, but it was offset by the heaviness of his eyelids, pupils clouded with a longing for you that you’d never seen from another person. His lips were parted, gaze never moving from your face. He was completely enthralled in you, feral from the scene below him. The sight of him gave you some sort of comfort, knowing that the feeling between the two of you was mutual. He was willing to do the exact same things to have you underneath him forever.

“This is what you wanted, angel?” He asked, voice low and gravelly. “What you were too scared to ask for?”

“G-god, yes, Jake.” You breathed, wanting so badly to close your eyes and dissolve into pleasure, but finding yourself unable to look away from his face.

“Don’t ever be scared to ask again.” He said, looking down for a moment to let a trail of spit fall from his lips onto his hand. The act only tightened the knot in your belly even more. “I’d spend all day making you feel good, just to see those pretty faces you’re making,” he mumbled, eyes now focused on his fingers pumping into you. “Just to hear those gorgeous fucking noises.” His tone turned into a bit of a growl, as if he’d worked himself up even more just by talking about it.

“Fuck, Jake.” You let your head fall back to the pillow, finally breaking your stare from him. As you did so, he pulled his hand from you completely, causing a rise of panic in your chest. Before you had the chance to look up and see what was wrong, he’d sunk to his stomach on the mattress and hooked his arms underneath your thighs. In a single movement, he pulled you down towards him and onto his mouth.

The newly discovered form of pleasure was a million times more powerful than his hands. The talent he possessed in his fingers was minuscule compared to his tongue. He took his time, savouring every bit of you that he could, searing the memory into his brain forever. The taste of your arousal satisfied his need for you even further, making him wish he could live between your thighs for the rest of his life. When your hands snaked down and tangled themselves in his hair, he was certain he could’ve gotten off to that feeling alone. He worked at you, now only driven by his desire to bring you to an orgasm, needing to experience it as if it were necessary for his survival. He was practically begging you by the way he was using his tongue, as if he had to do beg to begin with. You were at the brink of an orgasm before he’d even started.

His fingers were digging into your hips, holding you on him like he was scared you’d disappear if he let go. You gripped at the roots of his hair, a plea for something, even if you weren’t sure what it was. Maybe for an orgasm, or for some compassion; you didn’t know if you wanted more or if you needed him to slow down. Everything about Jake was conflicting, but indescribably fantastic. You wished you hadn’t fallen into the trap, but there was nowhere else in the world you’d rather be.

“M’gonna cum,” You warned, barely able to get the words out. In response, he did nothing other than focus on you even more, as if it were possible. With his unwavering determination, it didn’t take much longer for you to unravel, spiralling into an orgasm stronger than any you’d ever had. It was earth-shattering, all the muscles in your body tense and stars dancing in your eyes. Your lungs burned for a hint of oxygen, as even your breathing stopped momentarily. When you started to come down, you weren’t even sure if you were still in the same realm. He tapered his pace once he noticed you relax against him, the hold you had on his hair beginning to loosen. Once your body was lax against the mattress, he pulled back. As greedy as it sounded, you wished he didn’t.

“Fucking divine, baby.” He mumbled, peppering kisses on the insides of your thighs. “Didn’t know someone could taste that good.” The words alone could have sent you into another orgasm. As much as you were enjoying the sentiment, the selfish part of you just wanted him to fuck you, now. Want wasn’t even a good enough word to describe it; you needed him. He wormed his way back up your body, wiping his face with his hand before pulling you into another kiss. This one was sweeter, less hungry than before.

When he pulled back and made a move to stand, a rush of excitement flooded through you. You watched him, anticipating the next move, hoping his hand would move to remove his belt. Instead, he bent down and picked up his shirt from the ground. The feeling of excitement was quickly replaced with dread. “Jake?” You asked, quickly rushing to sit up. He stood straight, pulling his shirt back on. He gave you a sly smile, one that made your blood run cold. He stepped towards you, lifting your chin with his finger and placing another kiss to your lips. You reached out for him, hoping your hold would change his course of action.

He parted from you, buttoning the same dreaded bottom two buttons. “Gotta leave something to the imagination.” He smirked, unwilling to change his mind. “If I fuck you now, you won’t invite me back.” If he only knew how wrong he was, he’d be laughing.

“Please, don’t go.” You didn’t care how desperate you sounded; him walking out the door was the most heinous act he could commit.

“As pretty as you sound begging for me, you’ll have to wait, angel.” He adjusted himself in his jeans, concealing any evidence of the acts you’d engaged in. “If you can’t sleep, you know my number. I’d be happy to help you out at least a little bit.” He sent a wink in your direction. The devil inside him was showing again, but in a much more malicious manner. He was being diabolical.

“Jake,” you warned, watching him with caution.

“I’ll strike you a deal, sweetheart. Just cause you’re so pretty.” He took one, single step towards you, just close enough so he could tuck your hair behind your ear. As much as he was set in his way, he still seemed to have a soft spot for you. “I was a bit greedy. I just couldn’t leave you here without a taste.” He crouched down, eye level with you, now. As mad as you were, the desire to kiss him was still very much present. “Needed something to think about when I’m alone, tonight.” He admitted. The thought of him getting himself off to you was driving you crazy; he had no idea the things you would do just to keep him in the room with you. Little to your knowledge, he was struggling to walk away, too. “Since you were so good for me, if you still want me to fuck you when you wake up in the morning, I’ll stay here all day. Any way you want it, however long you want it for. I’m all yours.”

“You can fuck me now, all night, if you want.” You professed, reaching out for his face. Your palm cupped his cheek, begging him to see reason.

“Ah,” he shook his head. “That wasn’t part of the deal.” He hummed, leaning in just a bit closer. “Like I said, baby. In the morning.” He said, lips dangerously close to yours, again. “If I fuck you now, you won’t need me to come back, and I really want you to want me to come back.” He gave you one last kiss, just enough to ensure you of his dedication.

“Okay,” you forced out, unhappy to be complying with such an unreasonable request. You were certain that if he fucked you now, you wouldn’t even be done with him by the morning. Even with the promise of his tongue alone, you’d be begging for his company. You didn’t need to wait for the sunrise to be sure of that.

He stood, brushing his thumb over your cheek and taking one last look over you, admiring the sight. With that, he turned towards the door. Before he stepped out, he looked back again with a smile. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you sighed.

“Thanks for sharing your secrets, Gold Dust Woman.” Before another word was spoken, he had slipped out of the room and closed the door behind him. Now, in his absence, you were mortified at what you’d done, and felt even more shameful knowing how badly you wanted to do it again. You stared at the door where he’d been standing just seconds before, the same turmoil from earlier in the evening making a reappearance. You swallowed hard, well aware of the fact that you’d never be able to rid yourself of Jake, now. Never rid yourself of the desire for him, either. You had no idea what his intentions were, and it wasn’t like he’d been very clear about them, either. But, neither had you. You’d both fallen into the struggle of following your heart instead of your head, and it was sure to leave a path of destruction in its wake.

So you sat, stomach turning and head spinning, realizing what type of predicament you’d caught yourself in. You were undoubtedly in love with Sam, and now, completely in lust with his brother. Or, Satan himself. You still weren’t sure which title fit him better. He looked like Jake, spoke like him, but his ability to make you into such a fool for his sin came completely natural; almost as if it wasn’t even a struggle for him to make you fall to his feet with a single snap of his fingers. One feeling so innocent and pure, and the other absolutely concupiscent and filthy.

No matter which way you looked at it, you found no logical way around either emotion. No solace existing in your brain, either. You couldn’t help but feel ridiculous for being upset over your own stupidity, knowing the only one to blame was yourself. You curled up in your blankets, desperately searching for sleep, seeking a moment of peace. The only thing you could hope for was that maybe the morning could bring some form of clarity. But, hope was a fabled idea, and you’d already dug your grave too deep to climb out of it. No sunrise could rid you from the looming regret hanging over your shoulders.

Rock on, Gold Dust Woman

Take your silver spoon, dig your grave

[thus-spoke-lo]

Hi Lo! I love seeing all your and other people’s art with your blorbos. I’m a little nervous to get some art of me and my fave but I kind of want to 🫣 Do you have any artists you recommend? I’m just afraid they’ll think it’s a weird request 😭

Hi anon! There are a lot of artists on tumblr, twt, and ig that are more than willing to do art of you and your fave (or an OC, if you want to present your self-insert as one to make it less personal, i guess? i have zero qualms sending people pictures of my face and saying it's me as one of the subjects in the art, but in case you don't want to lol). If they're offering to do self-ship art, they won't think it's weird, I promise you <3

The artists I've worked with that come to mind immediately:

@/sluggybunny is a delight to work with, makes the process easy, and is super communicative along the way. If you're looking for someone who does great lighting and backgrounds on their work, sluggy is top-notch.

@/negativesd09 is also really easy to work with. If you don't want to have to worry about coming up with your own poses, they currently have YCH comms open!

@/vita_sxmnium (ig) did my old Doffy/Lo pfp. Their sketch comms are really detailed and again, very easy to work with!

@/54prowl doesn't have comms open atm i don't think, but keep an eye out just in case for the future--Prowl has done some really excellent work for me in the past!

Also, I haven't worked with @/rossithepixie directly as of yet, but their art is a vibe, and I know they're self-ship-friendly!

There are plenty of others I see across my dash regularly (@/mypillowpaper comes to mind, I've seen their art for mutuals). Make sure you check artists' pinned and recent posts to see if their comms are open, of course, and read through their will-do's and won't-do's before reaching out, just to make sure their limits and your request will match well.

Hope this helps! <3

[peachjagiya]

🎨 Bogo Sipeoyo Taekook

ok I’m really not sure how we all feel about shippy art. I know some people don’t like it. I’ve posted a couple of tkk ones before but always kind of innocuous and not that romantic. This one is romantic (sfw though) So I’m nervous to post. But I’m going to anyway.

🫣

[demonslayerdoodles]

I’ve been wanting to do it for a while soooooooooo ✨Akiya’s backstory✨ ( @shycroissanti don’t feel pressured to read it, I just didn’t know if you may want to 🫣)

(Btw, I know it is kind of other demon slayer characters stories mixed, but I swear I made this before I watched the series, she was from a different fandom and I didn’t want to part with her 😅)

So before she was a demon, she never knew her father. She was only raised by her mother, but her mother was such a loving and caring woman. She cared for Akiya with her whole heart.

Her mother was a demon slayer, so she was trained most of her life by her mom, starting at 5. She kept training because her dream was to become a demon slayer.

She basically grew up with Shinobu. When she started taking her wisteria injections, Akiya joined her in doing so, so if something happened to Shinobu, she wouldn’t be alone. They were really quite close.

Eventually her mother found out she was sick, but didn’t have the heart to tell her daughter, so she would always say she was fine.

The day Akiya’s mom passed, she was devastated. She trained so hard that day out of rage and hurt in the middle of the woods. She had an accident where she accidentally fell down while training on some rock, which is why she has such a big scar on the side of her face (even as a demon).

After this incident, when she was 18, she got ammonia and couldn’t remember anything before that day; her mother, any other family, friends.

Muzan had found her in the woods and figured she could be some use, maybe because as strong as the upper moon 1. So while she was unconscious, he transformed her and took her to the infinity castle.

When she woke up, she didn’t know anything. She remembered basic things like her name and how to walk, plus she still had her skills from her training, which came back easily after being taught again by Kokushibo (orders from Muzan).

She became really strong quickly, only about 2 years going by until she became a twelve kizuki. By 5 years, she was upper six. Until things started not working how Muzan wanted.

She was struggling to get stronger like he ordered. She kept training every day but there was no progress. She was barely able to defeat a hashira on her own.

This being said, Akiya realized this as well, so she started to develop another plan. She thought maybe it would be easier to defeat demons if they didn’t suspect her. She wanted to tell Muzan the plan, but when Muzan called her to talk, he already had his mind set.

Muzan wanted to make the decision to just off her right there, but realized she still was strong. She wanted her to die realizing she wasn’t strong enough, so he just took her rank away and abandoned her.

Akiya wasn’t going to give up though. She first went to Kokushibo and talked to him about taking her and helping her with a plan she had. But he refused to even listen to her plan, he was sick of having to train her, and since Muzan dropped her, he could too.

Akiya didn’t know who to go to next. She didn’t want to go to any of the other upper five, because she knew they wouldn’t care for her plan because they listen to Muzan. The only one that might had listened to her would had been Douma, but she didn’t really want to get caught with him, especially because she was a woman.

Akiya then decided maybe her only choice and chance of survival was Takahiro, upper 0. As nervous as she was, she went to him with her plan and to her surprise, he accepted her.

And now currently, she is disguised as a human and working for the demon slayer corp. Because of taking the wisteria poisons, she was immune to wisteria. I also don’t know about the sun, but she doesn’t burn in the sun.

When Muzan learned this, he has been working to try and get her back as well to absorb her. That depended on what Takahiro does 🤷‍♀️

Her power though is to manipulate people’s thoughts. I said this in a different post, but she can intrude in people’s memories and recreate voices in their heads. She can make them say was she wants without them knowing it’s her. So people like Zentisu or Tengen could hear something from her or Tanjiro could smell something and they think she may be a demon, but she can manipulate their thoughts to make them think otherwise.

Phew, sorry about that 😅 That’s a LOT

Takahiro belongs to @shycroissanti