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readymades2002 · 1 year ago
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remember when i used to draw. haha oh wow what a wacky and exhilarating period of time that was. anyway it will never happen again
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cybrasigilism · 3 months ago
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All Mine (Player 333/Lee Myung-gi X Reader Drabble)
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warning: smut | not proofread | lowercase intended | possession kink | this is my interpretation of this character, please be respectful even if my opinion on the character differs from your own
character: lee myung-gi (player 333)
A/N: been straight up desiring to write for this diva again, i got inspiration for this little drabble after listening to “ALL MINE” by brent faiyaz, hence the fic name. enjoy to all my fellow myung-gi fans!
MDNI! 18+ content beneath the cut, readers discretion is advised
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if anyone is into possessive, jealous sex, it’s myung-gi without a shadow of a doubt.
you’ve seen jealous before. you’ve been in your fair share of relationships with guys who felt as though they needed to stake a claim on you if someone even so much as looked in your direction, but with myung-gi it was on a different level entirely. when you first met, you didn’t clock him as the kind of guy who would be into that sort of thing. when all is said and done though, if he feels like he has to prove that you’re his— you will not be walking right for the next few days.
⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°
you can’t deny that it totally turned you on; the way he would become totally thankless with you. pushing you up against the wall, leaving marks and hickeys all up and down your neck, whispering in your ear how you’re his— you were certain you couldn’t get enough of him like this. he was so rough, yet so gentle at the same time. it was as though he was taking out his frustration and envy out onto you while still reminding you how much he loved you. you really couldn’t say you minded how tenacious he became when eating you out during these fits of jealousy, working wonders with that tongue of his as if in an attempt to raise the bar to an unreachable point for all other men. trust he will take moments in between to dish out possessive comments, only because he knows it gets you going that much more.
“no one else can eat you this good, isn’t that right?”
“fuck, this is all for me right? nobody else’ll ever get to know how good you taste”
you better believe he becomes totally controlling when you guys fuck, too. he’ll demand that you tell him who you ‘belong’ to as he thrusts in and out of your pussy. even through tears, he won’t cease until you’re screaming his name.
“do i need to remind you who this pussy belongs to?” “a-ah! fuck! it’s yours— oh shit, it’s all y-ours!”
he may seem much rougher than usual while he’s fucking you in this jealous rage, but it’s completely out of love. he just despises the idea of a guy thinking he could take you from him so easily, that’s all.
▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰
thanks for putting up with my brief self indulgent post! i apologize if it’s ooc, i just got the idea and wanted to share it inbetween working through requests!
as always, any advice/constructive criticism on how to improve my art is appreciated and requested! have a spectacular day/night lovelies!
tags: @gongyoosgf @strangelife122 @agornotsworld @kvstjwonnie @marymustdie @luvlyfandoms @putrescentpoet
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crownpastelyellow · 8 days ago
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Sticks and Skates
Went a little bit insane over Tangem with my buddy @chlmngo for the last 2 days and suddenly this was in my docs. So it was time for another sports AU oneshot by the guy who doesn't like sports!
Please make sure to check out the lovely art my buddy made over here. Helps get a better look on Gem's clothes because Tango does not have the words to describe it properly /silly
Pairing: Gem/Tango
Length: 7.2k words
Tags: THIS IS RPF, they are both idiots pining <3, high likelyhood of inaccuracies because I don't know either sport
Smut, Age Gap. Rest is pretty vanilla
Hope you enjoy!
AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64829926
Normally, Gem wasn’t like this. Most days she’d be entirely focused on skating, on landing her jumps, of making the most of her practice. The training hours are expensive for this rink after all, which is a crime considering that for the first hour it is shared with one of the hockey teams.
But this is only where Gem’s dilemma starts
“You’re ogling”, Cleo teases as they slowly skate by, only to leave Gem to stew on it. She clenches her teeth, muttering to herself, “not ogling.” 
Staring? Maybe. Getting distracted? Most definitely. 
And the sigh that escapes her is certainly not helping her case, hearing someone snicker behind her.
It is getting hard to deny as well. What started out as sending an occasional glance to the hockey team; And, who can blame her? Gem is also only human. Of course she had to watch, even if hockey isn’t a sport she’s normally interested in. Heck, she doesn’t even know the rules. But there is a certain respect for other sports. Yes, that’s it. Respect.
Not the way they move over the ice in their rather bulky uniforms but still with such precision, all while focusing on the tiny puck, navigating it around the field. Or the way the group erupts in cheers whenever a goal is scored. Gem may roll her eyes at the chanting of slogans, but in a way it is endearing.
And none of this has to do with one man playing center. Absolutely not.
It isn’t even that he’s a specifically good player, none of them are, but it is strangely endearing seeing him so excited, seeing how hard he’s trying.
So Gem catches herself smiling when he hits the puck towards the goal before falling onto his knees, gliding across the ice on his protectors, watching intently until it hits the goal. What if that smile then turns into a fond grin that she quickly masks again, when he starts cheering, before a teammate helps him up and pats him on the back.
Gem will just pretend that no one saw, that her teammates aren’t rolling their eyes at her and that she doesn’t care about this guy.
She doesn’t even know his name. Barely has seen him without his helmet on. Once, maybe twice, when Gem looked over as they were leaving the rink. And maybe she keeps thinking about his scruffy beard. Not that she could see much else all across the ice.
Okay, maybe things were worse than Gem would like to admit. 
Focus. Focus, Gem. 
Not wanting to be caught staring when he gets up, Gem tears her eyes away and focuses on her own practice. 
This goes well for about all of ten minutes before the shrill sound of a whistle indicates the practice match for the hockey players as over, alongside their practice.
Gem has to skate out of the way to let the men through but decides to linger close by the exit, pretending to fix something on her skate, fastening the laces anew. It doesn’t help that she can feel at least half her team eyeing her.
Getting up again, her eyes trail over the group as they’re taking off their helmets and she can now get a much closer look than previously.
His beard has more grey hairs in it than she anticipated and the little bit of short shaved hair quickly gets hidden beneath a cap. 
What Gem really wasn’t ready for was him putting glasses on, just simple, black frames. Why does this have to affect her so much?
Preferably she’d just bury her head in her hands now but someone behind her has to of course make it worse. “He could be your dad, you know?”
Thankfully her glare is enough to get them to leave her alone. Not that it makes their words go away or any less true. He could be her dad. 
At least she can focus on her training now that the hockey team has cleared the ice.
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The next week Gem misses practice because work kept her too busy but when she finally returns to the ice, she is in for a surprise. 
The hockey team apparently decided to finally get their own jerseys and not just use the ones for the rink. No, these all had their unique numbers on it. Numbers and… Names.
Even with her glasses she still has to squint a bit, which, despite her trying to at least wait a little, doesn’t go unnoticed. Cleo leans against the board beside her with a smile on her face. “Was wondering how long it would take you to notice. You know, you could’ve just gone and asked for his name. At this point you’re acquainted, with how much you’re staring.”
Gem gives her a glare which is met with laughter. “In case your squinting isn’t helping. His name is Tango. Skizz, the tall one over there, told me a while ago.”
Their words leave Gem with questions that she’s not entirely sure she really wants answers to. Maybe she just really wants to strangle Cleo right now, who is making the smart choice to leave to focus on actually training.
And Gem tries to focus too, but how is her brain supposed to think about jumps and spins when she just learned that Cleo has been talking to the hockey team about her. No way she’d have any other reason to talk to them.
And what kind of friend is Cleo to not tell Gem his name sooner?
It is nearly painful how slow practice passes and it frustrates Gem to no end that she is not on top of it lately. She is good at this. Really good. How can a single hockey player distract her so much? No, she needs to focus on herself for now and not how they practice guiding the puck on the other half of the ice.
Time to actually practice what she needs for the next competition in her mostly empty corner. After getting a few jumps in Gem has her confident smile back on her face.
Now for the more difficult part; She skates backwards and gets ready to jump only to feel herself crash into something. Or someone.
Gem yelps and braces herself to hit the ice, already tucking her hands in, just like she learned, to avoid any accidents but the impact doesn’t happen. Instead she feels two arms around her, holding her with apparent ease.
The clattering noise of the wooden stick landing on the ice ensures that everyone who wasn’t already looking over here most definitely is now.
And if Gem’s face wasn’t already beet red, it definitely was when she realized who caught her - and was still holding her. She sees the scruffy beard, the smile, the way his eyes squint slightly with it.
“You alright there?”, he asks, squeezing her gently as if to remind her that he’s still holding her. In fact, Gem is more than just a little aware of it. It takes her another moment to realize that he asked because he’s still holding her. Gem scrambles to her feet instantly and less gracefully than she would’ve liked but he doesn’t seem to notice.
The instant she’s standing again, they both start apologizing simultaneously. 
“I hadn’t noticed I was this far into your part of the ice, sorry about that. Did you get hurt?”
Gem can all but shake her head before getting out a quick “I’m fine. Good catch” She internally cringes at herself and they both just look at each other for one more moment before Tango gets called over again. “I’ll leave you to it then. Good luck with the jumps and uh, stuff.”
Gem wanted to both kick herself, because how can she be more endeared by him from just a few words and also because she wants to reach out. Thankfully her pride gets the better of her and she skates away, trying to calm her breathing as she gives him one last smile.
The next half hour passes slowly, as Gem’s eyes trail to the large clock on the wall, over to the hockey team, while trying actively not to glance at her teammates.
When the hockey team eventually leaves the ice, Gem quickly replaces her pride with all the courage she can find in herself and skates over to where Tango gets off the ice. 
Her skates break sharply, before she can stop herself and calls out “Tango!” which raises not only his head - now without helmet and with glasses - but also that of a few others.
“Huh? Oh hi. You again.”, he gives her a warm smile before coming over, now shorter than her, now that he’s off the ice. Gem can’t help her smile. “Wait, you know my name?” Gem’s smile nearly falters.
For a moment she fumbles before saying a bit too quickly,  “The back of your shirt. Jersey. Got your name on it now.” Nice save, hopefully? But he’s laughing and Gem can see the way his nose scrunches up. No man over 40 should have the right to be cute like this.
“Right, right.”
She has to take a deep breath before she can get her next words out. “I wanted to ask if you wanna grab a coffee sometime?”, then quickly adds, “As a thank you. For catching me.” 
At least this masks her ‘little crush’ as Cleo calls it a bit. 
“Oh, it’s all fine, I was the one on the wrong side of the ice. Didn’t even do anything.”, he brushes her off and it stings just a little. 
Someone in the back groans and then a glove hits Tango on the back of his head, startling Gem. Tango’s head whips back at whoever threw it before turning back to Gem who is now chuckling nervously, about to come up with any reason to leave so she can fix her bruised ego in peace. “But… If you’d want to, I can buy you a coffee. It was on me after all.”, he rubs the back of his neck, putting his baseball cap on.
Failing to mask her enthusiasm, Gem nods. “Does Tuesday sound good? 5pm?”
He keeps smiling at her, while his teammates are already heading for the locker room. “Sounds good. We can meet outside then?” And once Gem nods he’s about to leave, giving her a short wave. “See you Tuesday then…”, he seems to have realized he never asked her name. Gem laughs softly, taking pity on him. There was enough embarrassment today already. “Gem.”
“Alright, see you Tuesday, Gem”
She really doesn’t want to talk to anyone else right now but there is still about an hour of her training left. And only about 4 days till her date.
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“When did you start skating?” Tango asks, a simple question, as he grabs his coffee before they head over to an empty table.
Gem sits down opposite him but he can briefly feel her leg brush against his but blames it on the table being tiny. “Oh I started quite late, when I was around 19.”
Carefully Tango tries to think how to ask her how long ago that was and Gem seems to read his mind as she casually answers, “So I’ve been at it for bit less than 9 years now.”
Her words in combination with her smile might need to get cited on Tango’s obituary. In his head he automatically does the math and… She’s 28. This might be worse than he thought.
He tries to school his expression into a soft, neutral smile as he takes a sip of his still too hot coffee. “Wow. 9 years?”, he feels like his reply falls short but how is he meant to reply when his head only supplies that she was born the year he graduated from high school. Or that when she graduated highschool he already had been working and thought about buying a house.
Thankfully Gem’s voice distracts him before his thoughts can continue spiraling in that direction. “And you?” Gem’s smile was hidden behind the paper cup with her, for Tango’s taste, way to sweet coffee in it, her glasses fogging up slightly. Why does this make it so much harder for him to concentrate? 
“Oh, I've only been playing hockey for a few months now. Still a beginner” he laughs, trying to brush over his nervousness. He shouldn't be nervous at all. They are just grabbing coffee. This means nothing. Unless it does. Nope, not going down that train of thought again either. He spent too much time thinking about it already before they met. Whether this could be considered a date or not. Whether he should dress nicer or not. Looking at Gem he wishes he had. 
Gem is still looking at him, so he feels the need to keep talking. “I started because a friend of mine got into it a short while ago and he dragged me along.”
“Wow, for only a few months on the ice you've been really stable. Especially if you can catch a whole person” She laughs and this time Tango can't deny how fast his heart is beating. What is this woman doing to him? 
“But I'm really glad you did. I've got a competition coming up really soon and I can't afford any injury now.” Tango can't help but smile back. 
“Well, it was definitely on me. Don't worry, during the next practice I'll make sure to keep my butt on the hockey side of things” he says and is glad that it makes her laugh. 
“Is the competition a local thing?” he can't help his genuine curiosity. He's never really had an interest in figure skating before, with it not being quite his type of sport. And he knows that now it's not the sport either that caught his eye.
“Bit more than that,” Gem laughs, “a regional one. But if I do well there I can still move up.” 
Tango can't help but notice the way her eyes light up when she talks about skating, and the sight might as well be addicting. So he keeps asking, just so Gem talks more about it.
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A lot more time than anticipated passes, Tango even got up to get them new drinks at some point, getting Gem exactly what she ordered earlier. 
After she asked him out for a coffee, Gem had been trying her hardest not to get her hopes up. She's barely ever talked to him, after all. But after having spent some time with him? He's incredibly sweet. 
Sure, some of his humor has her roll her eyes but it's fun. He is fun.
So what if she plays it up, just a little bit. Blinking up at him as he places down another cup. Asking him to talk about his nerdy hobbies. It’s too easy, when she sees him fluster, mentioning his DnD campaign.
The way he got just the slightest bit embarrassed at first but warmed up once Gem showed interest. Was he worried that she’d get up and leave? Call him a nerd? To be fair she did. But it’s not like she isn’t interested. In fact she played enough games similar to it that she can follow him more than just a bit. 
It’s just more fun hearing Tango explain it to her. Hearing the excitement in his voice as he talks about his character and it is just straight up cute. 
“But where’s the whimsy if there’s no romance? You’re playing a bard! Aren’t you meant to get it on?” Gem laughs, and when Tango’s face grows about five shades redder she can’t help but laugh more. 
“Bards do more than just flirt.” Tango retorts, shaking his head in mock-offense. 
“Well, guess you’ll just have to invite me over and show me then.” Tongue sticking out the slightest bit between her lips, gently biting down on it, watching Tango’s expressions go through all five stages of grief in quick succession. Gem has to keep herself from laughing when he finally settles on a drawn out “sure.”
She really can’t blame him for it. Which doesn’t mean she isn’t incredibly amused by his suffering.
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When their date is coming to an end, Gem and Tango walk back to the ice rink, where their cars are parked. Going slower than necessary, as neither really want this to end. If it was a date for Gem.
After saying their goodbyes, Tango panics for a short moment. Should he go for a kiss? Way too early. What if he's been reading this entire thing differently. A hug instead? What if Gem would think he's some old creep? 
His brain turns off when Gem gives him a loose, friendly hug and without thinking he returns it. 
Then he feels her lips, soft, way too soft, on his cheek only for a moment. At first he thought he imagined it - wishful thinking - but Gem pulls away and he can see her bite her lips.
“Same time next week?”, she asks surprisingly quietly. 
“I'll be there ”
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The next time they see each other is on the ice, and Gem can’t help her timid smile as she starts skating and the way her heart pounds in her chest when she sees Tango giving her a small wave.
Before Gem can even consider anything - should she go and say hi? - that tall guy, Skizz, she thinks Cleo said, hits Tango on the back hard enough that he stumbles slightly. 
Watching their bickering for a moment, Gem chuckles to herself before she focuses on her practice. The big competition is coming up and after the past weeks have been less than productive she needs to train harder.
Surprisingly, it comes easier now. Tango is still there, on the ice and on her mind but less distracting. Maybe because she knows they’ll see each other again on Tuesday. 
Tango finishes his training with another wave to Gem and once he’s off the ice, Gem can practically feel his eyes follow her as she glides effortlessly into a spin. 
Knowing that he’s watching, Gem eases her spin into skating backwards and right into a jump - the same jump that landed her in Tango’s arms last week. Just this time she nails it. Of course she does.
And it feels better than ever before. Especially when she sees Tango’s impressed smile, all the way from across the ice.
This time she gives him a small wave which he returns with a silly salute with two fingers. Gem can only shake her head. Why did her heart choose this dork?
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Their coffee date turns into a regular thing much to Tango’s delight. He can’t even admit to himself just how much he’s been enjoying having Gem around him so much. In a way he feels younger, more energized again. Or, more likely he is just - no, he’s not even going to think it.
On Friday, after Gem’s practice ends, Tango gets a text from her. He eventually asked for her number, mumbling an excuse about what if anything comes up.
But he enjoys getting texts from Gem. Pictures of her dog. She sent him an image of her new skates. A link to a new coffee shop that opened nearby that she wanted to try next time.
Tango feels inadequate, struggling to text back, not because he doesn’t want to but because he never knows what to say.
When Gem cancels their usual Tuesday date Tango doesn’t acknowledge the miffed feeling settling in his chest. Especially not when it is because of Gem’s competition that she occasionally mentioned.
It wasn’t until Monday evening that Tango was talking to Skizz about it;
“Dude, did you… not offer to go watch her?” Skizz groans over the phone speaker.
“No? She did not invite me.”, Tango replies quietly. He may realize right now that he’s an idiot. “I should go, shouldn’t I?”
The next hour is spent researching which ice rink nearby is holding a competition tomorrow afternoon. It’s just an hour out by car. He can still get a ticket.
Without allowing himself to overthink it he reserves it. Hopefully Gem wants him there.
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To say he was nervous was an understatement. Tango has never been good at these types of things. Starting from what to wear, to thinking whether getting her flowers would be too much. 
He settled for wearing something nice, or as nice as he owns without getting fancy. Simple pants and a button down. After shaving his beard in shape he gets in his car, with just a quick stop at a small flower shop. Just something small, not wanting to overdo it. The employee still made something beautiful, a mix of yellows and soft pinks. Hopefully Gem will like it.
Tango learns quickly, during the competition, that he knows absolutely nothing about ice skating and regrets not having looked up anything beforehand. He had never really paid attention to the sport, only to the young woman gliding over the ice.
And while Gem obviously talked about it during their dates it was nowhere near as technical as what he’s seeing on the ice right now.
All competitors are wearing these elaborate outfits but it didn’t strike Tango that he’d get to see Gem like this, not until she is on the ice, handing her jacket to her trainer, leaving her in a dress short enough that Tango feels his blood first rush to his face, then elsewhere. It is green. And sparkly. To him it is the most beautiful dress he’s seen all night but maybe he is biased from the way Gem looks in it. Her hair is crowned with antlers, making her look entirely mythical.
Her smile is radiant as her eyes wander over the ice and for a short moment Tango is convinced she looked over to him. Just in case, he gives her a thumbs up and his biggest smile.
It is harder than expected to match his applause to that of the crowd, never knowing when Gem did anything right or wrong because it all just looks so perfect. Every spin and jump, it all mesmerizes Tango.
Seeing all her practice pay off fills him with so much fondness for her. Gem trained so hard for years so she can perform like this. 
During an elaborate spins Gem holds her leg all the way above her head and Tango considers looking away but his grey eyes are glued to her.
When the music fades out Gem comes to a halt and he can see the way her labored breathing moves her whole body as she holds the pose for a few moments more. Everyone is cheering and clapping. 
Finally, just before Gem breaks the pose and bows, she spots Tango, and when her face brightens he knew it was the right choice to come here. He just wishes he bought a bigger bouquet.
The rest of the event Tango could only focus on the way his heart beats in his chest, how he can’t wait to see Gem once she’s done and congratulate her.
He barely even registers when all competitors are done and the lights focus on the podium. 
When Gem gets called out and wins the second place, Tango cheers as loud as he can, earning a raised eyebrow from the woman in the seat next to him. Not that he cares, not with the way Gem is smiling, waving as the medal gets placed around her neck, careful of the pink flowers that ornate her dress and the antlers still on her head. 
Tango can’t deny that he’s in love.
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It’s cold outside the ice rink but that doesn’t really matter when Tango waits for Gem to come out. The sun has set a while ago, only the fluorescent light of the building behind him illuminating the pavement, some lanterns farther down the parking lot not helping. 
A bit nervously he’s bouncing on the heel of his foot, waiting for Gem to come out.
When the doors finally open again a group of people walks out, the last few of them he recognizes as Gem’s teammates, and lastly, Gem. Now in her usual training clothes, purple hoodie and 
Suddenly very aware of his age and the way he’s waiting for a much younger woman with a bouquet in hand. As if everyone hasn’t seen it yet, he quickly hides the flowers behind his back and laughs nervously.
He hears some chuckling and even Gem is giggling right until she stands right in front of him.
“Go ahead guys, I’ll be right there”, she calls out and thankfully her teammates leave them alone. “You’re here.”
“Hi. I, uh, wanted to see you. Perform. And I brought you some flowers.”, he hands her the bouquet a bit too quickly. Why does she make him so nervous? 
“I really enjoyed watching you skate. Your spins,” He can’t think about that view right now, already feeling his face grow hotter, “and your, uh…” He motions with his hands above his head for the antlers. Thankfully Gem laughs and takes the flowers from him, nudging his foot gently with hers.
“I’m glad you’re here. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to come.”, Tango realizes how close Gem is to him.
“Since we couldn’t grab coffee today. Wouldn’t want to miss out on this.”, then an idea comes to his mind. “We could still grab one. If you’re not too tired, of course”
Gem does this cute thing again where she bites down on her tongue, seemingly considering his offer. “Cleo drove me here. Let me quickly let them know that you’ll drive me home.”
And with that Gem is off.
Tango finally exhales for the first time in minutes.
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Their usual coffee dates pick up again and Gem actually explains her routine to Tango after he seemed curious about it. She explains the differences between certain elements, between the short program and the free skate and anything else he wants to know.
In turn, Gem makes him promise to invite her to his next game and explain hockey rules to her.
It’s not like she’s ever cared about the sport before, and that hasn’t really changed. But she wants to see Tango play without having to focus on her own practice and she wants to understand when to cheer - learning from his mistakes.
A few times Gem even invites him around on her morning runs. She’s been doing this for years so she goes easy on him but it’s nice, seeing each other more, off the ice and outside their dates. Even if neither of them actually have called them that out loud yet.
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On the day of Tango’s next game they meet up shortly beforehand to take a quick walk. The days are getting sunnier and warmer again so they slowly stroll through a nearby park until they need to head to the rink.
Before Tango has to go to the locker room, bulky gym bag in hand, Gem calls out to him. 
“Wait.” She leans the slightest bit up, feeling his beard scratch against her lips as she presses a quick kiss to his cheek. They haven’t done that since their first coffee, nearly two months ago. “For good luck. I’ll wait out here for you once you’re done.” and she turns to find her seat, leaving a mildly stunned Tango behind. Deciding to make it worse for him she calls out, “I’ll go home with the winner tonight.”, she laughs before quickly ducking through the door to find a good spot.
During the warmups on ice Gem keeps smiling over to Tango and even if she can’t see it with his helmet on, she knows by now the way his face scrunches up when he smiles back.
Then during the first period not much of note happens. The one thing Gem does notice now that everyone is here to watch the game, is that she’s practically the only woman under 30 in the entire audience, the only ones younger than her are children, their with family.
During the quick break she hopes to catch a glimpse of Tango again but in the end just settles for getting herself something warm to drink to warm her fingers on.
Things pick up in the second period. Her eyes follow Tango across the ice, admiring the way he keeps a hold of the puck, making it look easy to navigate the stick and other players while focusing on skating. 
Then, when Tango scores a goal, the first one of the entire game, Gem’s cheering alongside everyone else. She’s smiling and waving over to him as he and his team have a short celebration before it keeps going.
The third, and last period is where Gem starts to regret having promised to go home with the winner. The other team scores two goals and she can practically feel Tango deflate all the way over here. Of course he’s seemingly still having fun but her comment may have gotten to him. But it’s not like Gem hasn’t had an emergency plan ready.
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She’s waiting in the foyer for Tango. 
When he finally comes out of the locker room, his jersey still on, Gem immediately walks over, her arms around his neck. 
“You scored a goal!” She tries to cheer and she’s glad to see Tango smiling.
“Didn’t win though,” the reply comes with a raised eyebrow.
But Gem just shakes her head. “You scored and that’s a win for me. If you’d want to take me home with you.”
“Moving the goalpost closer for me?” Tango teases as he holds the door open, leading her to his car before throwing the bag with his equipment into the back seat.
Gem waits with her reply until they’re both sitting in the car before she teasingly leans over, one hand coming to rest on Tango’s thigh, “You say that like you really don’t want to feel my mouth on you.” 
Maybe it was a good idea she said that before Tango started his car, with how he physically startles. “Gem,” his voice a bit higher than usual. Gem can’t wait to hear what other noises he can make.
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Gem’s mouth hasn’t left Tango since they closed the door to his house behind him. Despite her curiosity she had only eyes for him in the moment. The tour can wait till tomorrow morning.
She lets him lead the way to the bedroom, where he drops his bag off in a corner before Gem falls onto his bed, pulling him with her. They’re both giggling as he’s sprawled across her. “You’re crushing me”, Gem’s voice is whinier than it needs to be.
“You’re the one who pulled me down on top of you”, he laughs against her neck.
Gem lets Tango explore her, his hands crawling up under her shirt, she can feel the calluses on his fingertips brush over her sensitive sides as his mouth maps her neck, her jaw and eventually her mouth.
Her own hands feel up his arms and Gem can’t help herself but sigh into the kiss. 
Hours could pass like this before Gem decides to finally reward her winner.
The second she starts squirming beneath him, Tango leans up and lets her go, balancing on one arm and his hip alone. Gem uses that to flip them around, Tango now on his back as Gem slides off the bed and onto her knees. She knows exactly how to look up at Tango to fluster him, when he sits up. “Gem, you don’t have to.”
“But I want to. If you let me.” Her smile is innocent, even if her words aren’t. Taking the strangled noise as confirmation, her hands slowly move up, over his thighs, she can feel the muscles beneath her palms through the fabric, all the way up to the hem of his pants.
Looking up again, looking for permission to keep going, she only sees Tango nod. Gem can’t help her smile, relishing in the feeling that he’s already speechless.
The second her lips are on him, Gem can feel him tense up. With a quick glance she can see his head tilted backwards, obviously trying to keep it together.
Nearly in a comforting way she rests a hand on his hip, but also to slightly pull his jersey up, exposing his soft stomach to her, including the patch of her that trails all the way down to where her other hand comes to rest.
Her pace is slow and she makes sure to get all the spit she can onto him before her hand starts to move in time with her tongue. Above her Tango groans, quiet whispers of her name leaving his lips like a prayer that only serve to spur Gem on more.
His one hand helps him keep balance, the other lands on her shoulder, gently rubbing over her skin with his thumb, as if to ground himself.
Gem is ready to give it her all. She didn’t go into this night with any plans or expectations other than making Tango feel good. Loved.
So when Tango tries to pull back she only stops but doesn’t pull off.
“Gem.”, Tango’s plea is met with a devious lick over his tip, causing him to shiver.
“Gem. I want to taste you.”, he practically begs her, looking down with furrowed brows, the grip on her shoulder tenser now.
Despite him catching her so effortlessly on the ice, Gem had not expected Tango to just lift her onto the back, her back hitting the mattress, her red hair splaying out across the pillows.
Before a single noise escapes her, his lips are on hers, his beard scratching slightly on her cheeks and she can’t wait to feel the same scratch on her thighs.
They only part long enough for Tango to pull Gem’s sweater over her head, his glasses placed onto the nightstand, then his lips crash against her again with an endearing amount of enthusiasm.
She helps him kick off her skirt and underpants in swift motions leaving her only in her bra for now.
The exposed feeling doesn’t last long when Tango firmly plants one hand on her hip, the other trailing lower, stopping just short, earning him a frustrated whine.
“You sure you want this?” Tango asks, making sure. Like he always does, with everything.
“I thought you wanted to return the favor.” Gem’s words are teasing but her voice wavers just a slight bit. “God yes, I want this, Tango”
Not needing any further invitation his hand travels lower, thumb brushing over her clit, already taking in every hitch of her breath, every noise Gem lets through.
At least they are both impatient, as Tango can’t keep the slow pace up. He lowers his head, kissing her stomach, all the way down while his free hand slowly inserts a finger. 
Tango’s mouth finds her clit, tongue brushing over her in slow laps.
Somewhere in the back of her mind she notices the gentle burn of his beard as it scratches the sensitive skin on her thighs but it only adds to the pleasure.
Her body twitches sensitively as Tango works her. “Please, more.” 
The pleasure is already building, as Tango replaces his fingers with his tongue and Gem has to keep herself from wrapping her legs tightly around his head, only to feel more of him.
Instead her hands needily grab at Tango, holding onto the sleeves of his jersey before needing to pull him closer, feel more of him.
Since she can’t move her hips she opts for placing a hand on his head, feeling his warm skin and the soft stubble of the short shaved hair under her palm as she pulls him closer. The muffled groan against her only makes her moan louder.
“Tango. Please”, Gem moans and even the firm hand on her hip can’t stop her from grinding herself down on his tongue as the pleasure crashes over her body.
Gem is still shuddering as Tango’s tongue stills slowly, letting her lead through this.
When the pull of her hand eases on the back of his head, Tango pulls away and Gem can see him take a deep breath. She can also see how the entire lower half of his face is covered in her slick. God she needs this man to bend her over immediately.
But first she greedily leans forward, stealing a kiss from him, tasting herself on his tongue. Tango kisses her back with the force of a starving man. 
“I need you. Please. Fuck me.” Hearing Gem beg so directly kicks Tango into action immediately. 
“How do you want it?” And before Gem can even find the words to reply, she moves onto her hands and knees. Without any further words, Tango understands. He kicks the rest of his pants off, from where they were hanging at his knees, before he is immediately behind Gem, his back pressed against hers.
“Get your legs a bit further apart for me”, he requests and Gem obliges. A moment later she feels him slowly push in, her slick and his spit more than enough.
Both groan and Gem feels Tango push a bit more of his weight onto her back, just for a moment as he adjusts to the feeling of her. He is warm behind her, soft hair on his chest tickling against her back ever so slightly.
“Can I move?” Tango asks,his mouth close enough to her ear so she can feel his breath. Gem can definitely feel his beard against her neck and shoulder. 
“Yeah”, her voice comes out strained with need.
Tango’s thrusts are slow but firm, his one arm wrapping around her waist, as if to hold her closer, while the other supports himself. After a few moments the hand moves from her stomach down to her clit. Gem can hear his breath hitch every time she clenches around him. Her moans only encourage him further.
Every groan in her ear matches his movements and she can already feel his pace picking up, his thrusts getting harder, deeper.
“Not gonna last long like this. Can you-” another groan. “Can you ride me? I wanna see your face when I cum.” His voice is hoarse, maybe from eating her out, maybe from restraint. Either way she can’t say no to him like this, so she nods.
After a few more thrusts, Gem pushing back into him, Tango pulls out. The second Gem turns around he pulls her close, having her straddle his lap as he sits on the bed.
Before she can lower herself down, he stops her. Tango’s hand moves slowly up and down, stroking himself as he stares at her, his mouth hanging slightly open, his breathing heavy. “Your bra… Please.”
He doesn’t even need to say more, Gem’s hands already opening the clasp and removing the last bit of fabric. Another groan, this one higher in pitch, escapes him, brows furrowed as he reaches out, stopping just short of touching her breast.
Gem laughs. “You can touch me. I want you to touch me”
She makes sure Tango can hear the way her breath hitches when he brushes his thumb over her nipple. “You’re so beautiful.“
Gem leans down to kiss him and finally he pulls her forwards with ease, so she can lower herself down onto his member. Again they both groan as Gem fully lowers herself and their hips meet. 
As if he can’t wait for her to move, his hands guide her, once they find her hips again, even if Gem doesn’t need the help, her daily morning runs have prepared her for this moment.
The feeling of his palms is nice though.
They kiss again, both moaning into it with every move. Gem’s hands wrap around Tango’s shoulders, not letting him pull away the first time, only when he tries again a few seconds later. “‘m close.” His words come out mumbled. “Can I cum inside of you?” The plea is broken by a groan.
Gem takes in his face, his eyes lidded, barely open enough to see her. His lips are parted as he’s breathing heavily, groaning. His eyes rake over her entire body, her hips where they meet his, her soft but trained stomach. The swell of her breasts and the way they bounce with every bit of movement.
“Cum inside me”, half command, half request and she can just see Tango break. The hands on her grip just a bit tighter as she feels him twitch inside her. 
Tango kisses her again, making her swallow all his noises as he spills himself into her.
When they part, both are panting. Gem is smiling, letting herself sink against Tango whose arms wrap around her, pulling her off himself and into the bed.
Endearingly, he peppers her face with kisses while Gem catches her breath. “Cuddles or cleaning up first?” He asks, immediately ready to make sure Gem is comfortable.
“I don’t think I want to move any time soon.” She laughs softly, turning towards Tango, trying to ignore the stickiness between her legs and the way it pools onto the bed.
Tango brushes a strand of hair out of her face before asking, “Anything else? Water? A towel?” But Gem just pulls him closer. 
“I want you to shut up and just cuddle me.” Her words lack any bite with the smile on her face. He pulls her closer, letting her head rest against his chest.
Gem stays the night.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It has been a bit over a month since the night of Tango’s game and after grabbing their usual Tuesday coffee, they planned to head to their usual ice rink.
They’ve been doing a lot of small activities like that. Two weeks ago they went and played minigolf, and despite Tango mentioning that he has played golf before, Gem did beat him by a margin.
“More of a different sport than you thought, huh?”, she teases him with a victorious smile.
But today they just want to take it easy, so ice skating it is.
Neither of them can help themselves though when Gem leans in close and quietly challenges him, “I bet you I’m faster. From here to the board.”
Tango’s grey eyes meet her gaze and he smiles, dramatically pulling the cap lower into his face. “You’re on. Loser buys drinks?”
She counts them down and a few seconds later Gem cheers herself on in victory as she breaks only inches away from the wall.
Tango joins her there, just a second or so later. He’s getting better at this. “Might eventually outpace me”, Gem notes but of course he only shakes his head.
“Only if you let me win. Alright, drinks. Coffee?” Tango is smiling and leaves when Gem nods.
Turning around, arms resting on the board, she looks at his back, walking over to the small stall selling fast food and drinks, still in his skates.
There is a fond fluttering in her chest as she watches him. A feeling that hasn’t gone away in the last few months since they got closer.
When he returns he hands her the cup, shorter than her like this, not on the ice. With the few inches she has on him, Gem leans down and her lips meet his.
53 notes · View notes
leviathanlazarus · 9 months ago
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In Your Fantasy
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Pairing: Jake Kiszka x (F) Reader
Word Count: ~5300
Warnings: semi-public sex (like...very low-key), oral sex (F receiving), unprotected PIV sex. 18+ only ~
This took me forever to finish because I started it before my stupid tonsillectomy and I was totally useless throughout most of the recovery. Also, it's been absolutely ages since I wrote a Jake x Reader fic so I'm not sure how I feel about it...I really enjoyed writing this regardless of my trepidation though. I loved the idea of falling in love with him at work and him being so cheeky...hope you enjoy it too <3
P.S. also ages ago, I wrote a Josh x Reader fic that also took place in a library which you can read here. Links on my desktop masterlist aren't active for some reason...but I found it using a certain tag lmao. If you know, you know.
---
You were finishing up fixing the order of some art books in the back of the library when you felt Jake come up behind you. “Wanna hear something kind of crazy?” he whispered in your ear, his chin nearly on your shoulder, his hair brushing against yours. Without even seeing him, the closeness and warmth of his body and the low, husky whisper sent a tingle up your spine–he certainly added a level of intrigue to working in a library. 
“Always,” you said, slipping the last book into the correct spot. It was a quiet Thursday afternoon–you’d thought it’d actually be busier given the rain that kept bucketing down outside, creating an even cozier atmosphere, but maybe people just wanted to stay home with their books instead. That was fine by you. You liked it when it was nearly dead silent throughout the building and Jake was there to occasionally break through, his voice a river through your thoughts and his subtle touches all shockwaves to your heart. 
When you turned around to face him, Jake looked like he was holding back a hilarious joke or something, eyes all eager and a grin tight on his lips like he was bursting at the seams. “So I just went to the bathroom and guess what I heard?” he went on, raising his eyebrows. 
You scrunched up your nose, already worried. This wasn’t what you were expecting when he’d said ‘something crazy.’ What sort of craziness happened in libraries anyway? “There are a lot of things I can think of. Is this a gross story?”
Jake chuckled. “It depends on your definition of ‘gross.’ Okay,” he said, looking around to make sure you two were still alone in the section. Then he looked into your eyes again and lowered his voice even more to tell you, “There were people fucking in there.” 
You scoffed, offended on behalf of the library–the sacred, beautiful space where people went to relax and read, not deal with lewd conduct. That wasn’t crazy, that was just offensive! “What, like two guys?” you questioned, tilting your head, a little irked at Jake finding this all so funny. 
“No, a guy and a girl.”
“Ugh. That’s even worse. Women shouldn’t have to deal with getting laid in a men’s bathroom,” you said, then were momentarily distracting yourself with yet another out of place book on the shelf.  “I’d never do that. I can’t believe someone else is. I mean, kids go here.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” Jake said slowly. He leaned against the bookshelf and looked at you pointedly, his dark eyes even darker in the dim light. “Then again–”
Before he could finish, you had another thought. “Wait, Jake–did you say anything to them?”
“No. What could I say? I just high-tailed it out of there as soon as I heard.”
You sighed. The whole thing would be far more redeemable if your boyfriend had at least tried to throw out some warning words to the perpetrators. “You should have told them to stop. I would have.”
“I’m sure they finished soon after I left.” He smirked. “It sounded like they were pretty close.”
You groaned quietly and turned away, preferring to find another thing to busy yourself with now. “Gross. They should be banned.”
Jake followed along right at your side as you whisked through the rest of the art section and back to the cart you needed to empty. “I didn’t see who they were, so no chance of that.” At the cart, he put his hands on it, keeping it in place. “I actually thought you’d find it sort of amusing, Y/N.”
You leaned over, almost close enough to touch your noses together. “You’re such a guy. Only a guy would think it’s amusing and not disgusting.” 
“I don’t know about that. Maybe you’re just a little stuffy,” Jake replied, tilting his head up as if he were challenging you. “Although maybe I shouldn’t be surprised, considering we’ve never done anything like that.”
You scoffed again and leaned back, surprised and still a little irritated, but also genuinely curious. “Oh, so you want to fuck around in a public place? That’s something I didn’t know about you.”
Jake’s challenging stance turned crestfallen, and he lifted one of your hands to press a kiss to. “Forget I said anything about it. I mean, I suppose you’re right–it is kind of gross.” He kept your hand clasped in his for a few seconds as he said, “But I’d never make love to you in a public bathroom. I’d hope you know me better than that.”
You looked over your shoulder at the sound of a man clearing his throat, settling down into a chair with a newspaper. He wasn’t paying any attention to you or Jake, but you gave the cart a push anyway, cajoling Jake off it so you could navigate to where you needed to go next. 
“It’s really the fact that it’s the bathroom that makes it so gross,” you whispered as Jake kept following you. You couldn’t deny you’d had some secret fantasies about getting it on in the library–after all, it was where you and Jake had met and where you continued to spend the most time together. But none of your fantasies included the restrooms in the hall, or the utility closet or that little corridor tucked away across from the restrooms where the vending machines were. Too grody, too cramped, too obvious.
“At least our bathrooms are clean.” Jake parked himself right next to you once you were in the biography section, and when you stepped away from the cart, he wrapped his arms around your waist and held you in place. “But if I’m being really honest, I have thought about us, well, fooling around here. I think it’s quite surprising we never have.”
“Jake,” you said in an attempt to protest, but his sweet, pretty face and ticklish touch on your waist made you giggle, and his confession that echoed your own secret thoughts lit a little spark. “We work here!” 
“So? All the more reason. It’s always been our special place.” Jake smiled as he got even closer to kiss you; you kissed him back, looping your arms over his shoulders. He was smiling even bigger when you both broke away and he said, “You know, it’s just me closing tonight. You should stay after with me.”
“God, and do what?” you replied, but, despite yourself, you were growing more intrigued. 
“Well, don’t you think the study rooms here are nice and cozy?” Jake questioned, still latching himself to your side as you started to put more books away. “There aren’t any cameras in any of them either. No one would know.”
You looked up at him from your crouched position, sliding a book into place. “Someone would know. Someone would find out somehow.” You were quickly finding even more perfectly good reasons in your mind not to do this, to not even really toy with the idea, but the more you thought about it, the more you thought, why not? Could the risk make it more fun? Even just the new, ill-fitting, sort of scandalous environment? 
Besides, Jake really did look hot today. He looked hot every day, but the second you’d seen him after he’d come into work earlier, he’d lit a fire in your belly that was more intense than usual. His hair had the perfect level of slight messiness and the relaxed black button-down shirt was perhaps one or two buttons shy of being overtly inappropriate for work; the smooth tan skin of his chest exposed and acting as a lovely backdrop to the long silver chain dangling, the pendant hitting his sternum. You could imagine tugging on that chain, grasping the pendant in your palm, to pull him closer while he pressed you against one of those thick wooden tables. You’d run your fingers through his hair and kiss him in the frozen silence, and maybe no one would ever know after all.
“I can practically hear the wheels turning,” Jake remarked, tapping your forehead once you were standing again. “You know you want to.” 
You let out an inadvertent nervous giggle and rolled your eyes. “Yes, I’m thinking about it.”
Jake stepped closer, pressing you back against the cart of books. “I’d love to hear some of those thoughts,” he said, putting his hands on your waist.
“You’re lucky it’s dead here today,” you said, keeping your voice a whisper despite the, indeed, dead library around you. You rested your arms over his shoulders, twisting a strand of his hair between your fingers; Jake just kept looking at you with that sweet, silently begging gaze until you giggled, relenting. “Okay. I was, um…thinking about you pushing me down on one of those big tables.”
Jake’s eyebrows rose. “What else?”
“Well…” you began, looking down at his dark jeans rubbing against your skirt. “You’re giving me some more ideas now.” You lifted one foot off the floor to rub your calf over his, the delicate material of your tights creating subtle but scintillating friction against his denim. 
Jake ran the tip of his nose up your cheek and whispered in your ear, “Same here.” 
Just as you were closing your eyes and allowing yourself to let your environment fall away around you, to forget about all the risk of being caught right there, and just as Jake’s hand was sliding down between your legs, a person’s incredibly soft–thanks to the clever carpeting job–footsteps headed your way yanked you right out of the moment.
Jake, too. He shot back and cleared his throat, ran a hand through his hair and looked in the direction of the footsteps; you did too, and soon enough an older woman with her nose already in an open book trotted past the shelves. 
“See?” you whispered, gesturing at the passer-by who was already out of view. “It’s so easy to get caught.”
“Please, that lady didn’t notice a thing. Alright,” Jake said before he stole one last hurried kiss. “I should let you keep doing your job and I should carry on with mine. But will you stay after with me tonight?”
You pursed your lips as you looked at him, considering, but it wasn’t long before you said, “Alright, Jake. I’ll stay after and we can play out your little fantasy.”
“It’s your fantasy too, baby doll,” Jake said with a wink before he half-turned, beginning to step away. “I think we’ve established that.”
-
There wasn’t a whole lot to keep your mind occupied as the afternoon carried on. The rain kept coming down, hammering hard against the roof and windows, and the sky outside was pure gray, all flat and blank. It reminded you of your first day working here, as a matter of fact–that morning in the previous late October, when autumn’s chill was officially in the air. A fine layer of frost had even been on the ground that morning; your shoes had crunched over it on the short walk to your car and you’d had to use your defroster once you turned the key, your anxiety peaking as you had to wait even longer to start the new job. 
How could such a quiet, peaceful place encite so much anxiety anyway? You remembered wondering that very question as you walked over the sidewalk to the library entrance for the first time since being hired, the concrete slick with that morning frost and the beginnings of a gentle rainfall. And just when you’d been settling in and getting comfortable, Jake had showed up and introduced himself, all casual and easy like he didn’t know he was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen.
Thankfully, Jake was also the sweetest man you’d ever met. It didn’t take long before his beauty and charm stopped intimidating you and instead just made you feel all light and full of joy–you were simply happy to chat with him whenever you both could spare a few minutes. Those few minutes steadily turned into shared breaks; then, shared lunches where you’d sit out back on the one picnic table when the weather permitted. Then he started bringing you special treats sometimes, things he knew you liked because he actually listened about what you liked, and then after that he started bringing you whole lunches packed with love and care that you’d never experienced before. 
So, after all that, was it really such a big deal to make love inside the place in which you fell in love?
None of your other coworkers even seemed to notice that you were staying later than planned this evening. But, just to be safe, you also made a point to hide out in the kid’s section when closing time crept up, busying yourself with cleaning up stray crayons and markers and then browsing through some of the newer picture book additions when you were done with that. 
When you were sliding one picture book back onto the shelf and reaching for another, you noticed the part of the library beyond the kid’s section dim; you stood up and walked out into the main area, and there Jake was behind the checkout counters flipping switches.
“Despite almost always being the one to close,” he said, flipping another switch. “I still sometimes forget which lights actually get turned off and which ones stay on.”
A path of yellow light led the way past the checkout and reception, past the few rows of public use desktop computers. Jake held your hand as you both stepped through the library, your heartbeat speeding up a bit with nervous yet delightful anticipation; a few more steps and you were further into the very back of the library, just about there. Four study rooms were staggered just beyond the teen reading section, two on the left and two on the right with a wall of windows in between. 
Jake opened the door to the last study room on the right. A large window was in there too, soaking in the deep sunset that was resting beyond the grass outside and the trees, and the mostly-bare branches of all the trees were throwing shadows across the library grounds. Then Jake flipped the light on, making it all disappear.
“Oh no,” you said, reaching behind him to flip it off again. “It’s sort of magical with the light off. Look at that sunset.”
Jake followed your gaze out the window to the wash of deep blue painted across the sky, nighttime so early in autumn that only a slight sliver of golden-orange remained just on the horizon. The rain had stopped a few minutes ago and had left a lingering mist on the ground, its faint haze trailing along just outside the windows–the whole scene was so much more peaceful than what was going on inside your head. You couldn’t shake the possibility of getting caught even though Jake was right about there being no cameras back here, and there was no one else around, not even any of the custodial staff, and not a soul out there in the fog. Just you and Jake in the little dark study room, his hand still warm around your own.
Your thoughts started to drift away, making space for your mind to comprehend the shadowed image of Jake before you as he gently turned you to face him. He smiled with the slightest bit of white teeth gleaming between his full lips, and you instinctively smiled back, pulled under his charm again. So, now effortlessly charmed and put at ease, you wrapped him in your arms and pulled him close, caressing his shoulder blade with one hand and the slight curve of his waist with the other as both of your smiles disappeared into a kiss. 
“You were making me crazy all day,” he remarked between the kisses that accelerated with both of your lips parted and the wet meeting of tongues. 
“Really? You kept it well-hidden.” Of course Jake did–you never doubted his affection and passion for you, but he kept everything so private. It was one of the many things you liked about him. You cupped the back of his head, sinking your fingers into his hair, scratching his scalp with your nails just the way he liked it, and kissed him again.
“God, your ass in this skirt,” Jake said, voice a little rough, and he reached down to grab you there. “The way your hips move.” He licked his bottom lip as he took a moment to just look at you, his eyes scanning your face. “So unbelievably pretty.”
You held the side of his face. “You are too, Jakey.” He really was, and even in the dark–perhaps especially in the dark, actually. The shadows enveloped him in even more mystery than normal, but you could still so plainly see the angles of his face and the smoothness of his skin in the faint, distant glow of the lingering sunset. Jake smiled at the sound of that little nickname coming from you, then disappeared as he pressed his lips to yours again and pushed you back against the table just like in your little fantasy. 
You felt the warmth of his hand travel around your hip then slide down over your skirt; you kissed him harder and spread your legs a little wider when his fingers skated effortlessly up your thigh over your tights. Jake purred against your mouth as he traced the seam of those tights, and subsequently the crotch of your panties beneath, with one fingertip, and your own hands hurried down his body with much less grace to squeeze his ass and feel the hardness between his legs as reciprocity. 
Before you could do much more than that, he was pushing your skirt up all the way with one hand and continuing to use the other to tease you. Your breath caught in your throat as you were finding yourself trying to stay silent despite the library being completely empty; Jake carried on with longer, deeper touches over the crotch of your panties and tights. The steady back and forth of his fingers over the two thin layers of fabric sent a delightful tingle of pleasure up your spine but you couldn’t forget his either–you kept that one hand of your own on his crotch too, gently squeezing his erection through his pants.
Jake huffed softly and kissed you again; you clutched his arm with your other hand, squeezing his bicep. Maybe other people didn’t mind getting caught–maybe there really was some sort of thrill to it. Maybe other people actually sometimes wanted others to witness their most intimate moments but you didn’t. You couldn’t imagine doing this with the lights on in the middle of the day, with the soft noises of people beyond the walls and the risk of someone catching a glimpse from opening the door or from outside the windows. You were perfectly happy with having Jake all to yourself in the shadowed little square study room, his skin so perfectly warm, his kiss so perfectly molded to yours.
“Was this part of your fantasy?” Jake questioned as he slowly sank to his knees, keeping your skirt bunched up over your hips with both hands now. But it was obvious what he was doing, so you took their place to keep it out of the way while his hands squeezed your thighs as he pressed his face between your legs.
The scant sharpness of his teeth over your crotch made you gasp. “Maybe,” you answered, thighs quivering against the table behind you.
“Oh, come on,” Jake beckoned, looking up at you with a sweet but slightly mischievous gaze, his eyebrows raised just enough to display teasing curiosity. 
“Seems like you already know,” you replied, stifling a giggle at him struggling to get your tights down from beneath your skirt. 
“I don’t know how you wear these things,” he remarked, which made you actually let out a laugh.
“Just rip them for fuck’s sake,” you instructed, eager now, already wet for him. “They’re not expensive.”
Jake didn’t hesitate. “If you insist,” he said as he grabbed a fistful of black nylon in each hand and ripped the tights right open, then quickly pulled your panties to the side next, giving you no time to think at all anymore. Whatever words your mind may have found merely turned to shaky breaths as you watched Jake’s face disappear between your legs again.
He gave a little hum just as he went straight in, the bridge of his nose rubbing up against your clit while he dove his tongue into your center like he really did want to eat up all the arousal that had been conjured up just for him. Your fingers found his hair again, knuckles curling to tug the long strands while your nails scratched his scalp again and he let out a little pleased sound, almost like a gratified laugh, and dug his own blunt nails into your inner thigh as he kept you spread open. 
One word finally emerged from your lips–Jake’s name, simply spoken in a soft tone as the ministration of his tongue and lips had you squirming and quivering even harder, your heels digging into the carpet below as you slightly struggled to stay upright. The repeated flicks of tongue over your clit disappeared for a brief moment, then slowed to one long drag of his tongue over your center just to start that quick pace again. Sighs and whimpers were dragged out of you with each lick; when Jake slipped two fingers in, the slow but easy stretch made you tremble and clench your fingers into his hair even harder.
“You’re so tight,” he commented when he pulled back just enough for you to look down again and see your own wetness glistening on his lips and chin. You could feel it too, how much tighter you were clenching around his fingers as he gently thrust them and teased, curling them and now rubbing your clit with his thumb.
“You’re so good,” you told him breathlessly, closing your eyes again when the sensations had you arching your back. You hissed and bit your lip when Jake’s mouth found you again, his tongue teasing your clit more while he slid his fingers in deeper.
You had thought it would take more of a conscious effort to relax in this space and just let go, but it was easy, so easy–you just let your body respond to Jake with each tremble and moan and gasp and tug at his hair until your legs were outright shaking. Panting, the peak rising deep inside, you pulled him closer and he obliged, sucking on your clit as his fingers curled and gently tugged deep inside you too as if he was literally trying to pull you right to the edge you were already rapidly careening to.
His name from your lips once more wasn’t a soft little sigh; it was a sharp, long whine that seemed to boom in the little study room. Your ferocity surprised you even more when the overstimulation came on so soon and you yanked his head back with one hand and shoved him away with the other, your hand gripping his shoulder. Panting, eyes still shut, you could feel how much wetter you were with his saliva and the rush of your orgasm, the fluid soaking your panties that were pulled to the side and even the very inside of your thighs. 
Jake pressing a kiss to your thigh made you look down but he was getting up on his feet now; your gaze followed the steady movement of his rise and then you were whisked away into blissful darkness again when he closed in and kissed you–close-lipped because he was so polite. But you parted yours and slid your tongue over his and gripped his waist tight for a moment before hastily getting those buttons on his shirt undone, fingers trailing all the way down to get his pants undone next. 
He tentatively pushed you back onto the table a bit more so your feet were off the floor, legs still spread wide around him and dangling when he pulled his pants and underwear down just enough to reveal that heated hardness. His cock leaked just a bit as he stroked it once, looking at you, and a blip of that old insecurity born from adoration and fascination stroked your brain, because Jake was just so beautiful and his beauty was so much more stark in contrast to the plain white walls behind him. 
“That was intense,” Jake said with a chuckle, leaning in to kiss you. You sighed against his lips as he slid the head of his cock all through your wet center, making a point to rub longer and harder over your clit. As he slid in, taking your breath away entirely, he sighed too and you watched his shoulders drop and his chest flush and he asked, so casually, “Is your fantasy being fulfilled?”
Even with the impact of Jake’s cock filling you so perfectly, you had to laugh. “You're a fantasy, Jake,” you told him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to bring him closer, to make the head of his cock hit so deep inside you that you gasped again as if you weren’t expecting the feeling. “What about–” You had to pause when Jake gave his first thrust. “What about your fantasy? This was all your idea.”
“It was a shared idea,” he reminded you with the cutest little smile. How could anyone be so sexy and adorable at the same time, especially during the actual act of sex, especially when that sex was taking place inside a public library? But he was, and you kept your eyes on him as he steadily sped up with his hips and his hands explored your body over your clothes, one squeezing your breast through your shirt and the other smoothing down your waist, your hip, traveling around your thigh.
“Oh god,” you chirped when Jake’s fingers made contact with your still-sensitive clit; but he was gentle, clearly deliberately being slow with the little circles he was making. With your arms still a loop around his shoulders, you sank your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and held him there for a minute before the soft pink of his chest became too tempting not to touch.
“Fuck yeah, that feels amazing,” Jake said in that deliciously hazy, husky voice after you slipped your hands past his open shirt to toy with his nipples. Bringing more attention to him put your lingering overstimulation in the background–you continued to tease with one hand while the other skated over the other side of his chest, feeling his warm, soft skin, up to his neck. You caressed him there, your fingers lightly touching the tender skin along his throat and then up to his ear, and Jake moaned softly and tilted his head to try and get more contact.
That was fine by you. You lightly scratched behind his ear like he was a cat and he sort of purred like one anyway, making you giggle; Jake giggled too and surged forward, picking up his pace as he whisked you away with another series of kisses that were deep but just sloppy enough for your mutual moans to be voiced. 
But, also to your surprise, Jake began to voice more thoughts between increasingly ragged breaths: “Remember when we first met?” he asked, his fingers over your clit sliding down to get slick again from your own arousal. “That was–fuck, that was such a good day.”
“It was,” you agreed, playing with one of his earrings as your other hand squeezed his pec. “I’m lucky I even got the job here. For a lot of reasons.” You stole another lingering kiss before adding, “You’re the biggest reason.”
Jake smiled. The sunset that had been just barely clinging to life when you’d both began was gone now–the only illumination was coming from a parking lot light that was too far away from the windows to see, but the pale yellow glow was scant enough to see that alluring, mystical beauty that your boyfriend possessed. Just looking at his face was enough to make you come again.
But Jake’s skilled fingers and the heat, weight and stretch of his cock still thrusting into you certainly helped. You buried your face against his neck now that you had access to all of him; a thick sob was muffled as you tightened and spasmed around him, and you heard him let out a quiet “wow” as the second orgasm rolled through you. 
His fingers on your clit, thankfully, moved away. He gripped your thigh again instead; his pace was now messy and fierce, and you had to fight to stay in place not only from the harsh movements and how the table you were sitting on was skidding a bit across the floor, but also from that second round of intense bodily excitement. 
“God,” you huffed, stifling another laugh. Apparently it didn't matter where you were–if you were with Jake, he just gave you the giggles. “You’re really going for it.”
Jake cradled the back of your head, messing with your hair a bit. “And I’m–hmm–almost there.”
You kissed him softly and sweetly, from his collarbone and up his neck to his ear. “Good boy,” you whispered there, giving his ear a nibble. Jake moaned wordlessly in response and gave one last deep, solid thrust that jostled you backwards and made the table creak, then he went slack over you, his whole upper body all loose and so hot that warmth was radiating through his shirt.
When Jake lifted his head, you leaned back and waved the back of your hand over your forehead with a silly “whew” motion; Jake laughed and nodded, then slowly pulled out. He collapsed forward again, resting his head on your chest, and you wrapped your arms around him once more. 
“Well, we’ve done it once. Do we ever need to do it again?” you asked, petting his back.
“Like, um, sex?” Jake asked, mumbling against your chest. “Or sex in the library?”
“In the library, duh,” you said with a chuckle, and kissed him when he lifted himself up and looked at you. 
“Where else should we do it?” Jake replied, his tone and little smile making it obvious he was kidding–finally. You were glad to have played out this little fantasy and do something new and a little risky, but you’d be even more glad to just go back to the way things were. Nothing wrong with a classic. 
“Our bed, definitely,” you said, and Jake smiled and nodded again; you began working on buttoning up his shirt. “Our couch. The floor. Maybe the shower.” 
“Maybe?”
“Last time we tried the shower, you nearly cracked your head open,” you reminded him, lifting a hand to cup his jaw. “And nearly broke your perfect teeth.”
Jake’s smile grew wider. “That would be terrible, wouldn’t it?”
“I’d never forgive that stupid shower.”
Jake patted his hands from your shoulders down the length of your body, stopping at your ankles. “Well, babe, we’re both in one piece now, aren’t we? Time to close up?”
“Definitely. The custodians are probably going to be here any minute.”
“Oh my.” Jake held your hand to bring you off the table. “That would have been quite the show for them.” 
“No more shows,” you said as you both put the finishing touches on getting yourselves decent before Jake opened the door. “I should be the only one looking at you when we fuck.”
---
If you'd like to be tagged in any of my fics, you can let me know here or DM me :)
Tagging: @kissingsun @starbuggie @lightsofthe-living-gvf @sanguinebats @gvfrry @milojames16 @mindastreamofcolours @wetkleenex-gvf @itsafullmoon @heckingfrick @peaceloveunitygvf @musicspeaks @clairesjointshurt @bizzielisteningtogreta
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catbolt · 3 months ago
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— CRUSHING
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[SOUNDTRACK] Crushing - Eartheater || ▶︎
[TAGS] rafayel x reader, fluff, slight angst/allusion to myth, slightly suggestive
[A/N] italicized text is taken from the lyrics of Crushing by Eartheater (aka literallyyyyy the most raf song ever which inspired me to make this fic and also make my raf playlist)
this is just my ode to raf in all his sweetness and glory. i really like this fic :') this length and this sort of free minimal plot slice of life style is exactly my comfort zone and something i want to keep doing for sure. hope u guys enjoy!
[WC] 1k
songfic 5/?
You’re the wave crushing the shells into sand  You’re the flame melting sand into glass
When Rafayel touches you for the first time that night, his hand sliding purposefully around your waist, each finger pressing with insistence like they’re trying to sear their mark into your skin with an invisible brand– it’s like he’s someone else. Behind the silly jokes and banter that both of you share, that someone else is always there.
You’re the glass holding the wine You’re the wine making me drunk
Among the clink of glasses, the hum of hushed, polite conversation as Rafayel steers you through the exhibition by his side, that palm of heat pressing firmly into the small of your back is unignorable, ineffable. You engage in small talk with passing socialites, as does he, appearing as jovial and engaged as ever, but the way his fingers gently slide through the sateen of your dress and play with the fabric at your hip is beyond distracting. 
Only he can do this to you– touch you so innocently in a way that makes your stomach clench, makes your lungs seize onto each gulpful of air like you’re drowning in a warm sea, makes your skin erupt with gooseflesh, every single tiny hair on your body standing on end.
You’re the drunk telling me lies You’re the lies that come to light
Each wall in the museum hall is decorated with a piece of him, canvases of bright blues and deep reds, pearlescent whites and seaweed greens that glitter with an unexplainable texture like crushed diamonds. You can’t help but look around in awe. You’ve been in his studio before, seen the man himself at work, but being in an exhibition of his work, a celebration of it, is different. It feels like you’re in a hall of mirrors– each painting that you see is a reflection of the man you love staring back at you, hours of dedication, suffering, and passion laid bare for all to see. 
It’s profoundly intimate and honest, almost uncomfortably so. You squeeze his arm gently in an unconscious protective gesture as your eyes scan over the walls of paintings, suddenly wishing everyone would disappear except the two of you.
“What?” Rafayel murmurs gently under his breath. “You okay, cutie?” 
“Yeah,” you respond. “More than okay. It’s so beautiful. All of it.” You gesture broadly with your hand. A soft smile rises on his lips, a twinkle in his lavender eyes. 
“I’m happy you’re here with me.” 
You’re the opening of a shell You’re the shell that has a pearl
When you’re back at Rafayel’s place after the exhibition, kicking off your heels and reclining into the couch, his hands snake around you again, greedy and beseeching around the circumference of your waist. He leans into you, head nestling into where your neck meets your shoulder, breathing in your perfume.
“You know,” you murmur, hand stroking through his hair as the two of you lie quietly on the couch in the moonlight. “I feel like I don’t compliment you about your art enough.”
He laughs, his warm breath ghosting over your neck. “What, you want to boost my ego even more? You’re the one who always complains I’m too full of myself.”
“Not because I want to boost your ego,” you correct with a chuckle. “Because I want you to know how talented I think you are. Seriously. Every time you draw the sea, I feel like I’m seeing Lemuria how it was.”
His body stiffens in your arms for a few seconds before relaxing again. He’s silent momentarily as you continue petting his hair, feeling his soft breath on your skin. You can tell he’s thinking. He presses a brief kiss to the side of your throat. “Thanks,” he finally responds, his voice tinged with roughness.
You’re the body that blows my mind You’re the mind that stays open
You could spend the night like this, holding him close on the couch, but he has other plans as he nuzzles closer to you, his hand slipping past the hem of your dress and lazily up your thigh. “I don’t deserve you,” he mutters. “But you give yourself to me.”
“Don’t say things like that,” you chide as his fingers rub circles on the inside of your thigh. His touch is delicate and light, his fingers a paintbrush drawing gentle strokes on your skin. “It’s true,” he says. “But I won’t let you go again. I’m not waiting another 800 years. I won’t wait for even one.”
You’re the turn on that I can’t refuse You’re the fuse that detonates my body
You want to ask what on earth he’s talking about, but he silences you with a soft kiss. You can almost taste the yearning, the way his mouth fervently seeks yours with a taut intensity. There’s something– someone else there in the way he kisses you, a searing, claiming force behind the way his mouth moves against yours.
You wonder if he’ll ever explain it to you, exactly what goes on inside his head in moments like this. The times you feel like there’s something stronger behind his kisses and the way he touches you. The times he gets serious, the times he’s uncharacteristically quiet, staring out off the balcony, watching the waves lap gently against the sand in the middle of night. When the shadow of that someone else is there, dark and visible, behind his eyes.
You have a feeling he won’t. And that’s alright– you can live not fully knowing why he looks at you the way he does, like he is now, like he’s afraid you’re going to disappear if he turns away for even a moment.
 As long as he never stops kissing you just like this. 
You’re a well of reasons to keep crashing To keep crushing on your shore I’m still crushing That’s for sure
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da-rulah · 10 months ago
Note
Could you please do fan fic where Copia is gay or/and with a ftm(female to male) trans guy?
This has been on my mind since you requested it, and I apologise it's taken so long. Can you believe I missed out on writing this during PRIDE MONTH!? What a twat. I apologise. Usual stuff; work/life balance, writing for my big fics etc. etc but you had me at 'gay copia'. I hope you enjoy...
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18+, MDNI! CW/ MxM, soft smut, comfort, gay sex, anal fingering, anal penetration, hand job, cumming inside, this is soppy as shit and I love it fight me.
OH MY GOD there's art to go with this now... Thank you so much to my incredibly talented bestie, @delulluart for this stunning pencil drawing. (Warning, it's NSFW... of course.)
Tagging my usual tag list, but if this kind of thing isn't for you, then that's absolutely fine. 💕
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Do you know how tiring it is to always be in command? To always be the figure of authority? Copia does. There's no escape from it... He has no choice but to be the figurehead of the ministry, the one everybody turns to for help, for advice, for relief...
How was he ever supposed to feel relief? Who would take care of his stresses? Who would allow him the space to just let go?
Today, he practically crawls back into his chambers, just grateful to be in a place he can call his own again. No disturbances or expectations; just peace to unwind. Except, he wasn't alone. And he wouldn't have it any other way.
As soon as he shuts the door behind him, there he is; his lover, Brother Adan, stepping from the bedroom to greet him in his living space.
"Hello handsome," he smirks, his eyes soft with adoration. "I saw your schedule today, figured you may want to see me?"
He was correct; Copia very much wanted to see him.
"You always know what I want before I do, eh?" Copia chuckles, slumping back against the door. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting long..."
"You know I wouldn't mind if you did," he shrugs, walking over to Copia and wrapping his arms around his soft waist. "What do you need tonight, Papa? Cuddles and computer games, or do you need to uh... release your frustrations?"
Copia thought for a moment. He wasn't sure he had the energy, and frankly, he'd been commanding his clergy around all damn day. The last thing he wanted to do was come home and be the picture of dominance again. He wanted to be taken care of, to be reminded what it was like to let someone else take control. But in the arrangement Copia had with his Adan, they had never reversed the roles like that.
He was sure that he was capable, no doubt about that, but it just so happened that the natural roles of their situationship had made Copia the giver, and Adan the receiver. He hesitated, wondering if it might sound silly to request he give up his Papa authority for the night.
"Papa, what is it?" Adan asked, concerned. He could clearly see the inner battle going on behind his bewitching eyes.
"I... was wondering if..." Copia stutters, stumbling over his words like a fool. "If you would... maybe, eh... take control, tonight?" Adan tilts his head in question, the request sinking in.
"You mean... take care of you?" he smiles, running his fingertips through Copia's greying and overgrown hair. Copia nods meekly, unable to look him in the eye. "Oh, Copia... Don't feel any shame for that. Of course I can. You must be so tired of being in command all the time, hm?"
Copia meets his eyes, full of understanding and compassion. "Sí..."
"I'm sorry I never offered this before. You must have thought I was only happy to bottom, hm?" Adan chuckled. "I just thought that's what you wanted, but I can do both, my love." Adan moves the hand still around Copia's waist to his gloved hand, lacing his fingers with his own. "Come on, come and lay down with me."
Adan slowly leads Copia into the bedroom, gently as if guiding an exhausted gazelle to a watering hole. Copia could already feel himself sinking into a role of submission, tension beginning to drain from his shoulders from the relief of being allowed the space to fall.
Without a word, Adan sat him at the end of the bed, crouching down at his feet to remove his shoes and socks one at a time. Copia sat and watched, dumbfounded, as Adan meticulously and slowly undressed him layer by layer, until he was sat completely nude and vulnerable. Then as Adan stood upright and stepped back, he held eye contact with Copia, sweet and playful, as he too undressed himself.
"Lay back, Copia," he instructed, crawling onto the bed beside him and following until they both lay on the pillows, Copia on his back and staring innocently into Adan's eyes who lay on his side, propped up by his elbow.
Adan began to trace his fingertips over Copia's bare chest, running through the salt and pepper chest hair over his pecks and down across his stomach, only to tease as he got lower by retreating back up. Copia gulped, his bare hands balling into fists at his sides to refrain from moving. Adan didn't miss the way his cock, laying heavy and soft against his hip, had begun to fill out just from the lightest of touches.
Adan's hand travelled down the length of Copia's torso one more time, before retreating and coming to cradle his cheek and pull him towards him for a deep, slow kiss. Copia moaned immediately, gripping the sheets below him. His mind went blank, any and all stress from the day clearing out only to be replaced by fog.
As they lost themselves in their slow kiss, tongues marrying together deliciously, Adan reached his hand down one more time, finally reaching for Copia's length and palming him against his thigh. It hadn't taken long, but both men were completely erect, enjoying the sensual nature of their embrace.
As soon as Adan's hand finally wrapped around Copia's shaft, his jaw went slack, a moan rumbling from within. Adan kept kissing him, unbothered that Copia had stopped and only wanting to continue to please his Papa.
"Is this enough, my love? Or do you wish for more tonight?" he asked, wanting to give Copia the experience he needed tonight, utterly selflessly.
"Per favore, amore... will you fill me? I-It's been so long since I've felt that," he gasped, stuttering while Adan's hand worked him in long, languid strokes.
"Of course, sweet thing. Let me prep you first, hm? We can't rush this..."
"Sí, sí," Copia babbled, allowing Adan to roll him over onto his front and spread his knees just enough. Copia kept supplies in his bedside cabinet for convenience since Adan began staying the night a lot more often, and so Adan reached for the bottle of lubrication he knew he'd need.
He still lay beside Copia, wanting him to feel secure, loved and comforted by his body pressing into his, still able to deliver kisses and praises directly to Copia's ear.
He began with one finger, allowing the slick digit to circle Copia's already fluttering rim before he attempted to dip inside. Copia felt incredibly relaxed already, but with the stimulation to his hole he was struggling all the more to keep his hips still against the bed, rutting his erection into the mattress. Adan just smiled at his responsive partner, knowing he was already feeling the pleasure he'd intended.
With an extra drizzle of lubrication, Adan began to press his fingertip into Copia, slowly to accommodate the stretch that he certainly wasn't used to these days. Copia groaned in pleasure, his eyes squeezing shut as he buried half his face in the pillow below him. His paints were going to transfer to the sheets, but that was a problem for later. He needed grounding in that moment.
Adan did his best to work Copia open with just the one finger at first, eventually adding two. All the while, Copia was losing his mind at the sensation. So close to his prostate, and yet, not enough for stimulation; it was winding him up, building a knot of dull tension in his abdomen.
With some time, Adan was able to use three fingers, widening the gap for himself to fit neatly inside when the time came. Copia's groans and whines were muffled by his pillow, and yet each one travelled straight down to Adan's cock, which Copia could feel against his hip while he toyed with his hole.
"A-Adan, please..." Copia begged, professing that he was ready without having to say the words.
"Shhh, it's okay Copia. I've got you," he soothed, retracting his fingers and rolling Copia onto his side so he faced away from him. He reached for the lube again, this time coating his own length generously, before dribbling more where Copia would need him. "We'll take it slow, hm?"
"Yes, yes, just please... I need you, Adan..." Adan chuckled a little at that, sliding his palm between Copia's thighs so he could lift one and allow him the room to line his tip up with Copia's hole.
The initial stretch was uncomfortable, but not entirely unpleasant thanks to Adan's careful preparation. And still, he was gentle, giving Copia plenty of time to get used to him inch by inch. Already, Adan was becoming drunk on the gasps and moans that spilled from Copia's lips, and he couldn't help but press kisses to his neck, nipping gently at the skin whil his hands squeezed Copia's thigh in an attempt to control his own pleasures. It had been a while for Adan too, to feel the tightness of another man around him. Fuck, how he missed it...
Copia gained some confidence, rocking his hips back into Adan's and reaching his arm back to hold his hips in place to bounce against. Adan groaned against Copia's shoulder, losing himself to the passion of the moment too.
After a little while, he could take it no longer, rolling Copia to have his back pressed to his chest and sitting himself up enough to grip tightly onto the back of Copia's neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss as he pistoned his hips deep into him. Copia lifted his leg for a better angle, wrapping his own arm around Adan's bicep and holding on tightly as he groaned into the kiss, each thrust audibly stuttering his moans.
The pair were completely wrapped up in each other, losing themselves together. Adan's grip on Copia's neck tightened, before dropping down to press into Copia's stomach and digging his fingertips into the softness of his belly. Fucking hell, Adan loved his body, soft and warm in his grip. He could feel the way his stomach turned into rolls each time he thrusted into him, Copia curling up tightly each time.
With every upward thrust, Copia's prostate was throbbing with pleasure, his cock bouncing from the force of Adan's movements and aching from the lack of contact. He could only whine at the feeling of being so close, so fucking close, that he thought his entire body was about to burst.
He wanted to beg, to plead, to tell Adan how much he adored him, how much he needed this but just the thought of parting their heated kiss as he fucked into him was regretful. but it was Adan who parted first, grunting and growling in a way Copia rarely heard from him. He was about to cum deep inside his Papa, unable to stop himself and so his pace picked up, determined to finish Copia off before himself.
He reached his hand down to wrap his deft fingers around Copia's shaft, beginning to pump him to completion while he hammered into his prostate. Copia cried out, his nails digging into Adan's arm as his eyes rolled back into his head and his body lost it's fight to stay composed. Copia's cock jerked in Adan's hand, thick ropes of warm cum erupting onto his own stomach with the last remnants dribbling down Adan's fist. The sight and sound alone was enough to finish Adan off, his rhythm falling off as he shot his own load deep inside Copia.
Adan stilled, enjoying the last few minutes of connection sheathed inside Copia's warmth as the two of them came down from their highs, heavy breaths and gentle whimpers filling the silence. Copia's eyes fluttered open, searching Adan's who seemed to be doing the same - asking a silent question, or confessing a silent thought.
"I think... I think I am I love with you, Adan..." Copia whispered, losing his confidence the moment he uttered a syllable. Neither of them had expected something quite this serious when their arrangement began, but there was no denying the electricity between them.
Adan just grinned, once again holding Copia close to him by the back of his neck, his fingers playing with the sweat dampened locks of hair at the nape.
"And it would seem, Papa, I'm in love with you too," he admitted, not a moment of hesitation now he knew where Copia was too. The two men shared a soft kiss, longing for one another as if they weren't as close as could possibly be right then.
"I suggest a nice, soothing, hot bath to recover, hm? Let the stress just melt away, together?" Adan proposed, stroking the hair from Copia's forehead. He could only nod in response, too tired and drunk on him to form words. "I'll be right back, my love."
With a kiss to the tip of Copia's barely painted nose, Adan gently removed himself from his side and made his way into the bathroom to run a hot bath filled with salts and essential oils to soothe his poor Papa's body and mind.
The two of them spent the evening in the bath together, Copia enveloped in the warmth of the water and his lover behind him. He'd never been so cared for, so loved by another than he was with Adan around. Suddenly, the burden of being Papa didn't feel quite so heavy anymore...
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leighsartworks216 · 4 months ago
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Fine Arts
Rafayel x gn!graphic designer!Reader
This is the last one!!! THank goD!!
Warnings: pre-relationship, banter, bickering, if this was a full series it would be enemies to lovers
Word Count: 925
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First Love and Deepspace Masterlist
Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist
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This meeting, compared to the other clientele you've dealt with over your career, was going well. The manager was taking over discussions of appearance, providing wants and desires, styles and color palettes, while the real client was pouting and making snide remarks with very unhelpful feedback.
So, really well. At least the manager was actually listening to you.
"If you want the exhibition to feel high class, I'd recommend a script or serif font. Sans serifs can work sometimes, but they have different connotations." You write down a few notes to yourself in your sketchbook.
Rafayel scoffs. "Art shouldn't be limited to the elite. My works are for everyone to view, not just the people on top with the deepest pockets."
You offer him a placating smile. "I understand what you mean, Mr. Rafayel, but given the area the gallery is in and the fame of your works, it may be better to appeal to the elites that are more likely to come and spend their money." You tilt your head, adding, "Though, if you'd like to broaden your audience to appeal to the layman, I'd be happy to create a few versions from that angle."
Thomas sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose like he's had this conversation a thousand times before. Given his client, maybe he has. "It's a charity event, Rafayel. We want buyers who will spend a lot of money for your work to benefit the charity. Normal people aren't our audience here."
"The charity benefits 'normal people', doesn't it? Why are they suddenly being excluded out of this?"
"If someone is willing to spend more, more money can be donated to the charity. It's not that hard to understand!"
"But they should still feel welcome to visit the gallery, even if they don't have the funds to buy anything."
You clear your throat. The men look at you. Rafayel stares at you like he wants you to burst into flames. "Rafayel's name will draw enough attention from the art world to attract buyers willing to spend big money. If you want the event itself to be seen by normal people, design for the normal person. Besides, a normal person will be more interested in the design of the promotional material than an elite just buying the work for their wall."
Rafayel looks at Thomas. The manager taps his fingers impatiently on the table, before sighing. "Fine. Elegant, but welcoming. You can manage that, right?"
You smile thinly at him. "Of course."
He sighs again, nodding. He checks his watch. "This meeting's run over. Contact me when you have drafts drawn up. I'll send you the info," he rambles off as his chair scrapes against the floor and he stands. He leaves with little else to say aside from a brief 'have a nice day'.
You make a few more notes in your sketchbook, crossing out the older notes you don't need anymore. Rafayel sighs heavily from the end of the table.
"You got what you needed. Are you gonna leave now?"
"Mhm. I just wanted to know if I could see the centerpiece for the exhibit. It would give me a better idea for color schemes and layouts."
He raises an unimpressed eyebrow at you. "Thomas already went over all that with you. Why do you need to see it in person?"
You chuckle. "Forgive me, but I don't trust a business man to know what looks good with what. I'd rather trust the artist he's trying to promote."
He stares at you for a minute. His finger taps a rhythm against his arm, contemplating whether he should work with you or send you right out the door.
Eventually, he sighs. "Fine, but no peeking at anything else!"
"If I want to see the rest of your stuff, I'll go to the exhibit myself."
He leads you through his house where the meeting took place. It's one of the nicer places you've ever been in when working with a client. You've seen mansions and manors before, once or twice, but this felt nicer than those. Those were stuffy and dark, trying to impress a higher class of people. Compared to those, this was casual. The sea breeze coming in through the windows was refreshing, enticing you to run out onto the beach after this.
When you reach the entrance of his studio, he makes you cover your eyes. You relent, letting him lead you through the place until he stops you. The heat of his hand lingers on your arm.
"Okay, you can look now."
You drop your hands and blink away the darkness until your eyes can adjust. Three canvases are all lined up on separate easels, coming together to form one scene. It's ocean-themed, as most of his works seemed to be from your brief research, depicting the story of a mermaid stranded on a beach, being saved by a passing fisherman.
"Oh, so it's a triptych."
He blinks at you. "I'm surprised you know what that is.”
You give him an unimpressed look. "I do have a bachelor's in fine arts, you know."
"Why? You work with computers all day for your job, why do you need to know the traditional aspects of art?"
"Well, aside from having background knowledge for clients like you who do traditional artwork, I don't just work with computers for my art. A lot of my job entails sketching, a traditional medium. Just because I know how to transfer it to a digital format doesn't mean I'm exempt from learning about it."
---
Tag List:
@nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko
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fueledbysano · 2 years ago
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𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐖 Izana Kurokawa
ligaw. [noun] courtship; dating; woo. the university's local rockstar tries to win your heart in his classy ways ♡
♱ izana kurokawa x fem!reader
♱ tags, and for my favorite people in the fandom, Izana stans 🖤 : @hiraethsdesires @fuyuluvr @izanazqueen @iluvizana @half-baked-biscuit @ask-the-insect-hashira @sukunassuka @izanapogi @em-plosion @chrofeisnightmaregf @mattsune
♱ a/n: belated happy birthday to our king 🫀 I'm sure all my filipina girlies will agree when I say that Izana is that expensive guy who hangs out a lot in bgc and is probably famous in campus.
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Izana Kurokawa was quite a popular guy on campus at his university in the Philippines. He was a part of the “Tenjiku” band, playing the guitar, and he was known for his love of motorcycles and his skill on two wheels. He was known to make quite an entrance when he parked his bike before his classes.
Izana had always been a bit of a control freak when it came to his precious guitar. It was the day of the university’s annual festival night, and his band was going to perform. Izana's instrument was like an extension of himself. He took great care of it, tuning it to perfection before each show and making sure that no one else touched it without his permission. Not even his band mates, he knew they were professionals themselves, but he trusted it to no one but himself.
So as Tenjiku bandmates were doing a soundcheck on the empty stage, Izana’s heart dropped when he saw a stage crew carrying his guitar. Her name plate read “[ Y / N ]” at the front, carrying his guitar carefully. If she wasn’t wearing the pass, he would’ve mistaken her for another performer, considering how attractive and how nice she was styled too.
He usually would’ve thrown a fit, but it wasn't just that she was touching his precious instrument, but the way she was carrying it. She was holding it with such care, like it was a priceless work of art rather than just a tool for playing music.
“What are you doing with my guitar?” he asked, his tone serious.
“Some amateurs and I think… fans managed to get backstage and peek at your instrument,” [ Y / N ] explained. "I couldn't let them touch it, so I took it to you. Sorry if I intruded."
Izana was impressed by her care and consideration. He knew how much his guitar meant to him, and he was grateful to have someone like her who understood that. “I’ll get someone to bring you guys’ your water bottles too, the performance starts soon.”
And so as Izana was performing on stage, his guitar ringing out over the crowds as they cheered and clapped. He was in his element, the music flowing through him like blood, the energy of the crowd pulsing through his veins.
But as the set went on, he started to notice that his guitar was sounding a little off. It wasn't much, just a slight distortion that seemed to be coming from the speakers, but it was enough to rattle his concentration. He couldn't focus on the music, constantly worrying about whether the audience was hearing the same thing.
Luckily, [ Y / N ] seemed to be listening in, because she quickly rushed up to the sound booth to fix the distortion. "There we go," she whispered, her voice low and calm. Izana quickly peeked at her from a distance, grateful for the assistance. She quickly started to tinker with the equipment, checking the cables and fixing a few loose connections after giving him a quick nod.
Izana couldn't help but feel a pang of attraction at what she just did. She seemed so passionate about her work, and he couldn't help but admire that.
Izana was still riding the high of his band's performance at the end of the night, when he spotted [ Y / N ] at the parking lot. As he made her way towards her , he felt a sense of anticipation, eager to see her again. “Hey.” he said, catching up. “Thanks for all the help again today.”
[ Y / N ] couldn't help but feel her heart rushing as she looked up at him. She felt a mix of emotions– admiration, attraction, and a bit of nervousness. “Of course,” she said, a hint of exhaustion mixing with her kind tone. “You guys did so well. I liked your set.”
Izana smiled at her words, feeling a sense of pride and satisfaction. “Thanks,” he said. “You know, I never let anyone touch my guitar, but you carried it like a pro. Not to mention, you noticed the off-distortion in the middle of my performance. I must say, that was really impressive.” He smiled. “At least let me take you to your place. It’s getting late too.”
As they rode through Taguig City, [ Y / N ] couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and adventure. She loved the feeling of the wind in her hair, and the way the city lights stretched out before her like a dazzling kaleidoscope. Izana was the perfect driver, making their trip smooth and comfortable.
Despite the late hour, the streets were still full of people– college students, young professionals, and tourists alike. The city was alive with energy, and it felt as though they were being called in.
As they neared the corner, Izana spotted a food bazaar and immediately made a left turn. [ Y / N ] followed his lead, smiling as she took in the sights and sounds of the bustling night market. “I love this place,” Izana said, dismounting the motorcycle and helping [ Y / N ] down. They were immediately met by the colorful stalls, the sizzling sounds of meat cooking, and the call of the vendors. [ Y / N ] followed Izana through the maze of tents and stalls, trying to make sense of the smells, sounds and smells that attacked her senses.
Finally, they reached a stall that seemed to capture Izana's attention, and she watched as he ordered a plate of sisig (spicy pork dish) and a serving of white rice while [ Y / N ] settled with a simple order of Lumpia (egg rolls).
[ Y / N ] couldn't help but smile, appreciating the joy on his face. She had never seen a grown man enjoy food so much. As they sat there, she couldn't help but think about how much they had done together in such a short amount of time. It had only been a night, and she had gone from never having heard of him to having a well-deserved late dinner together after a long day of putting up a show for everyone in the university.
The night air was cool and crisp, and the sounds of the street vendors and bustling crowds filled their ears as they walked. The vendor poured the frosty coconut juice into two glasses and handed them over to Izana, who smiled and held out one of the glasses to [ Y / N ]. She took a sip, and the cool liquid refreshed her after the long, hot day. The juice was creamy and sweet with a hint of coconut, and [ Y / N ] found herself finishing the glass before she knew it.
As they rode through the city, the lights and billboards shining brightly against the nighttime sky, [ Y / N ] couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and amazement. It was one of those moments that made her feel tiny and insignificant, like she was just a spec in the vastness of the universe.
Izana rode with a sense of ease and grace, his eyes scanning the streets for any potential hazards. She felt safe and secure in his arms, like he was her personal guardian from the world's dangers.
As they neared her dorm, she couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness. The night had flown by in a flash, and she wasn't ready for it to be over. But she knew that it was only the beginning of their time together. She knew that there would be many more nights like this, many more adventures and experiences to share.
and she was right, it was just the beginning of something beautiful with Izana. Him being a man of class and culture, Izana went on going above and beyond to truly show [ Y / N ] that he was serious about her.
He would surprise her with gifts, take her on unforgettable dates, and become her personal rider as they go to and go home from school together on his bike. He was a true gentleman, and made sure she was comfortable.
He was a natural leader, someone who was always in control, always focused and driven. And yet, he was also sensitive and compassionate, always putting [ Y / N ]'s needs above his own. He was a man with a kind heart and a fierce love for those he cared about, and [ Y / N ] knew that she was one of the lucky ones to have him in her life.
Izana was a true connoisseur of the finer things in life, and he loved sharing that with [ Y / N ]. She was flattered that he took such joy in showing her the luxurious and artistic side of the city, and she knew that these experiences would be forever etched in her memory. These activities not only brought them closer together, but also made them appreciate the beauty of life and the world around them.
So as an arts lover through and through, he loved taking [ Y / N ] to art museums and galleries, where they could spend hours gazing at the incredible works of art, appreciating the beauty of each piece. From the historically rich walls of Manila into the imposing architecture in Bonifacio Global City, they would stroll along the streets, surrounded by high-rise buildings and lush greenery. The city was alive with energy, and there was always something new to discover.
As much as they loved high-end corners of Taguig, Izana and [ Y / N ] would often venture out to Cubao, the place to be for the local music scene where they could catch local bands jamming out and performing live music. It was a unique experience, and they could feel the energy of the crowd as they watched the bands on stage.
They enjoyed exploring different venues and checking out different genres, from rock to indie to even jazz. Izana was a big fan of rock and indie music, so they often frequented places like the Hard Rock Cafe, which featured local bands playing these genres. [ Y / N ], on the other hand, enjoyed exploring different genres and discovering new bands that Izana loved. They loved the experience of trying out different sounds and seeing the different reactions of the crowd.
It was during these moments that [ Y / N ] felt the most in tune with Izana. They would rock out to their favorite songs, sharing headphones and singing along together. It was a way for them to express themselves, and even though they had different music tastes, they found common ground in their shared love of live music.
[ Y / N ] couldn't help but feel grateful for the love and commitment that Izana showed her every day. She was truly blessed to have found someone like him, who was not only her lover, but also her best friend, her confidant, and her soulmate. She knew that their love was something special, something that would last a lifetime.
So when [ Y / N ] gave Izana her sweet "yes", everything was worth it. As Izana held [ Y / N ] in his arms, the whole world seemed to fade away. All he could see and feel was her, and their shared love. He had waited for this moment for so long, and now it was finally here. Everything had led up to this moment - the long nights of studying, the late nights of conversation, and the sweet moments shared together.
It was now as if they were one, united in their love for one another. They had started as friends, and now they were partners, companions, and lovers. It was a journey that had taken them from strangers to soulmates, and it was one that they would always share from now on.
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ninadove · 8 months ago
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For any fandom(s): 12, 15, 16, 19, 23! 💌
As always, you spoil me! 💌
12. Compliment someone else in your fandom
GOD I HAVE TOO MANY FRIENDS TO COMPLIMENT
@beezonia comes up with the coolest AUs and designs. I’m always blown away by their Pokémon team compositions — they’re spot on to the point I consider it its own form of character analysis!
@purplecatghostposts is the genius who showed up out of the blue and took us all by surprise with their amazing prose. Soap, reminder that the reference to Copycat in consider the spare legally binds you to pay for my therapy.
@trishacollins is single-handedly remediating to the lack of platonic bedsharing between the cousins and I can’t thank her enough! She’s also one of the chillest and most approachable people I know.
@luckychatons is our favourite entrepunpurr and constantly lifts our mood with the cutest, most joy-filled sketches! Patting her OCs on the back because they sure need it.
@graythegreyt is such an awesome artist you’d almost forget they’re also one hell of a poet who wields mythological references like Odysseus wields his bow. Did you know they wrote me a poem inspired by God Games? I think everyone should know they wrote me a poem inspired by God Games.
@hartwign is a talented translator and draws hair like no one else. Seriously. I want to run my hands through the cousins’ hair and nestle in there forever.
@phieillydinyia is the picture of dedication! Can’t recommend Candle In The Wind enough, it’s a roleswap rewrite of the Miraculous movie that includes the songs. How cool is that. Thank you for your regular comments on my fics, they always make my day!
@alexandriaellisart words cannot express how much I love your depiction of Feligami. Your writing has made me tear up so many times! AND YOUR ART LOOKS SO SOFT AND COLOURFUL. What a double threat!
@faiirygrahamdevanily we need more fics about the Sentiplot as a metaphor for othering experiences and you’re doing God’s… I mean, Duusu’s work with yours!
@bbutterflies did you know your piece for Sentitwin Week is the best characterisation I’ve ever seen of Felix? This is what people mean when they say a picture is worth a thousand words. And of course your Adrino is always brilliant!
@bittersweetresilience not only are you an extraordinary writer, but you’re constantly looking for new ways to express your love. Always GIFing and weaving and canonising tags and making AMVs and running zines… I can’t wait to see what you do next!
And there’s so many more people I’m forgetting! To say nothing of my friends outside the Miraculous bubble! People are amazing!!! 💖
15. The character that always makes you smile
At the end of the day, it’s all about Clive. He’s been my muse for nearly 15 years! 💙🕊️
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16 was answered here! 💖
19. Your current fandom(s)
Professor Layton, forever and always. I can’t wait to share my Big Bang fic and the amazing art that I was blessed with! 💙💛
RWBY, even if I’m lurking more than participating… I love love love love RWBY, yet it doesn’t strike my creative and analytical chords the way Miraculous does. Sometimes you just need to let yourself be swept into a story, you know? Although, it did teach me a couple of writing tricks I’ve used for other fandoms!
EPIC! Wisdom Saga coming soon! 🩵🦉 It makes my little mythology nerd heart supremely happy. The music is a banger and you can feel the knowledge and passion of all the people involved in this project. Jorge in particular is always so excited to share his progress, engaging with creators, explaining his musical choices in a fun and pedagogical way… And the lyrics! It’s free real estate for a fanfic author looking for inspiration and/or titles!
I’d love to start Monte-Cristoposting like I’ve been Cyranoposting and Draculaposting, but I’m afraid of spoilers so for now I’m just screaming in your DMs. As you know. I’m also slowly getting into Honkai: Star Rail, and I’d like to pick up Pokémon Black and White again because a N character study would look great on my AO3 resume.
And of course, Miraculous! 💚💜❤️ It’s the most creative I’ve been in years and it’s all thanks to these sad beautiful silly genius kids. Heart emoji, peacock emoji, sob emoji, etc.
23 was answered here!
Thanks for the ask! 🖤🪶
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littlemissgeek8 · 4 days ago
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Reflection Ruesday
So there's two versions of this post game going around today, and while I did get tagged by @thedissonantverses for the one version, I figured I might as well be an overachiever and do BOTH! I will warn in advance that only one of these examples is Bioware related because I really didn't do much in the way of fanworks for Bioware games until like, last year? But hopefully someone out there appreciates it anyway! And thank you to @becausedragonage for creating this fun little idea!
Also preemptively tagging some folks b/c the bit under the cut might not be everyone's cup of tea: @hyperions-light @biowaredisasterbisexual @mageofquandrix @sandcastlekings @seaglassmelody and anyone else who has anything they want to share!
First, @woundedsoul12 wanted people to share a published work that they personally liked that they felt didn't get much love. So, I'm gonna bring around a sketch I did back in November of Darvia and Varric getting a little quiet moment during the mission to Halamshiral. I hadn't really poked my head into the fandom much at that point, so it got a bit lost in the shuffle.
And secondly, we have the usual version:
What to do: Go through your writing, art, gifs, etc. that you started but never finished and find something you love. Brush it up a bit if you want and share it. Tag me and use the tag Reflection Ruesday (it'll grow on you, I promise) and I'll comment and reblog. Then tag some other folks you think might enjoy it.
As previously stated I don't have any Bioware-related works to dredge up, but I got hit by an old special interest this week and realized I still really love the snippets from a magical-boy-inspired Ghostbusters AU from like, 2013. So, uh, if anyone feels like reading some 11-year-old writing from me, here's a little taste. Who knows, maybe I'll actually finish it someday!
Excerpt 1: Ray
The floor under my feet lurches. I look around nervously to see my friends responding the same way. Egon shoves his glasses back up his nose with a slightly unsteady finger. "It would appear that the defeat of the node guardian is having an unexpected seismic effect on this structure," he says matter-of-factly. "In English, Egon?" Peter asks. "This whole building's coming down!" I say, hoping my voice doesn't sound as nervous as I feel. The ground is growing more unsteady by the minute. "By my estimation we have less than five minutes to get out," Egon says. Winston swears. "We're on the top floor! We'll never make it down in time." "Unless..." All three sets of eyes shift to me. My hands go all clammy, and it feels like my heart's going to beat right through my chest. "Me?" I ask, my voice squeaking through my tight throat. "It's the only chance we have, Ray!" Egon's voice is urgent. "But--" I swallow and try to talk again. "I've-- I've never transported anyone but myself! And the battle took so much of my strength... I don't even know if it will work! Or even if I can get us outside of the building!" By now, the floor is buckling so much it feels like the deck of a ship during a storm. Debris from the ceiling is raining down around us. "Ray, for heaven's sake, JUST DO IT!" Peter shouts, nearly falling over. Winston grabs him and hauls him upright. I tighten my grip on the staff. It just has to work! "Hold on tight!" I yell. When I can feel three hands holding onto my coat, I raise the staff and visualize our intended destination. "Mass Shadow Transport!" The dark purple shadows swarm up around us and for a moment the bottom falls out of the world and the dark building fades into spinning purple nothingness. Then, I can hear wind. Birds. We made it outside. Winston and Peter stagger back, Peter collapsing onto the grass with a thud. Egon doesn't seem to have been bothered by the disorienting transportation, though it's always hard to tell with him. I turn to face the dark structure that we left. With a massive groan, it collapses in on itself in a shower of obsidian black rubble. My stomach lurches as I realize we would have been trapped if I'd waited any longer. With the adrenaline gone from my muscles, it's all I can do not to collapse on the grass in a quivering lump. "Admirable job," Egon says from behind me. "Yeah, thanks Ray." Winston's voice is shaky, but relieved. "Does anyone else's mouth taste like socks?" Peter asks dryly. I know he's trying to diffuse the tension, but it's not helping. I can still hear the structure collapse in my head. Peter must have noticed, since all of a sudden he's poking his head around my shoulder. "Are you all right, Ray?" Winston asks. "He looks kinda green," Peter says. "Not pretty. Your hair's the wrong color for it." "Ray?" Egon says. Just as I open my mouth to speak, my stomach heaves. I only just make it to some nearby bushes before my lunch comes up.
Excerpt 2: Peter
Dana is at her locker with her back turned. I take a deep breath and wander over, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. She looks up as I lean on the locker next to her. "Yes?" she asks. "Can I help you?" Sometime between kindergarten and now her voice has gotten deep. I'm not complaining or anything; it's kinda sexy. "Dana Barrett, right?" I ask. Not that I needed confirmation or anything, but it's a great conversation starter. "Yes." Whoops. I guess Ray was right; she almost immediately gets defensive on me. Not what I was planning on, but she hasn't shut me out completely. I decide to play my trump card now and hope that does it. "Pete Venkman. I just moved back into the area. We were in the same kindergarten class, remember?" She softens just a bit, and actually smiles. "Of course I remember you." Score! "You were the one that got sent down to the principal's office for eating glue on the second day of school." Crap! I mentally slap myself in the face. I was hoping she'd forgotten that. "They called you 'Peter the paste-eater' for about four months, right?" Mayday! This is not going well. I need something for damage control, and I need it fast. Otherwise, I'm going to end up as "Peter the paste-eater" for the rest of my LIFE! I slide in and decide to throw on the charm. "Yeah, well we all do dumb things as kids. It's a miracle we even live to see Middle School, much less High School." She chuckles. "Some more than others." Ouch. "So, you have first lunch period or second?" I ask, trying to change the subject without sounding desperate. "Second, and I need to get to class," "But the Minute Music hasn't started yet--" Right on cue, the music comes on. You know, I get that all the teachers in this school are nostalgic for the sixties, but this is the third straight day that we've had nothing but Beatles hits. You'd think they'd shake things up once in a while. Dana grabs her books and straightens up. For a moment, I catch her eyes, and I can just feel a connection-- "PETER!" --and the connection shatters like a shot-put through the neighbor's good china as Ray nearly bowls me over in his enthusiasm. "C'mon Peter! We need to get to the cafeteria so we can claim our table! Egon's got some great ideas he wants to discuss." Dana smiles. "Goodbye, Peter." She closes her locker and melts into the crowd. I'm so frustrated, it's all I can do not to throw my ridiculously heavy history textbook at that stupid speaker in the hallway that won't shut up about how it wants to "hold my haaaannd." Instead, I just push my way through the crowd and down the hall to the cafeteria, Ray right behind me and still talking. Like the overachiever he is, Egon's already gotten a table. Thanks so much for ruining my moment for nothing, Ray. I dump my books on the table and line up for food. With tray in hand, I return to my seat, sandwiched in between Winston and Ray. "How'd your meeting with Dana go?" Winston asks almost immediately. I shoot Ray a glare, then turn back to Winston. "Well, she didn't slam the locker door in my face." "She's probably saving it for the second date." Egon doesn't even look up from his notebook, and his expression never changes. Until that stone-faced mask cracks a bit with a tiny smile. As nice as it is that Spengs is showing a bit of humanity, I wish it wasn't at my expense.
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olsenmyolsen · 7 months ago
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Chapter Thirteen: For You
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The Farmer's Daughter - (A WandaNat Story)
Masterlist . Tag list: @xenaizogie
Summary: Wanda talks to her mom about Natasha just before Pietro comes home..
Word Count: 2.8K
Content: Feelings, Mother-Daughter Talks, Awkward Kate Bishop
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"Do you wanna talk about it?" Kate asked as she looked from the road to her friend in the passenger seat. Natasha had her head rested against a neck pillow—a bag of semi-frozen peas from Kate's freezer on her head.
"I could've won," Natasha stated for the nth time today.
Kate laughed again. "Yet you lost and have a black eye and bandage on your nose." Natasha turned her head, and instead of bickering, she looked at her friend with whom she had missed time and spoke honestly. "I'm glad you found someone, Kate." Natasha turned her head back and let her friend sit in the moment.
A playlist from Kate's phone quietly played in the background as Kate smiled. She then thought about how to ask Natasha about Wanda.
Since Kate found her in the stairwell at the art show, she hasn't brought up the younger woman.
"It's just a little after lunch. Do you wanna stop somewhere?" They weren't far from the farm, so Natasha shook her head no. Plus, she wasn't hungry. "Have you talked to her?" Kate then asked, making Natasha lift the peas off her face.
"Since last night?" Natasha asked for clarification. Kate nodded. Natasha slightly nodded and shook her head. "I texted her after my shower."
"Oooohhh!" Kate said, making it sound a lot sexier than the text actually was. "Kate, I just told her we were about to head on the road."
"Oh," Kate said, disappointed.
Natasha wasn't sure how to explain or talk about her bruises and fight with Maya over the phone, so she was just gonna save it for her face-to-face with Wanda.
But she did take some pictures of her bruised face and body after the shower. Natasha sometimes thought it made her look sexier and that the selfies of her face were fun.
"Anything else?" Kate asked, wanting to know anything else that might be going on with Natasha and Wanda. Natasha put the peas back in her head and eye. Natasha smiled. "I'm excited to see her."
Kate looked over at her friend for a second. "Oh, she's gonna flip when she sees you."
Speaking of Wanda, not long after that, she was returning home after crashing the night at Sam's. As Wanda entered her home, the smell of something cooking in the oven worked its magic, creating a desirable smell in the air. Wanda turned to see her Mama on the couch working on a cross stitch.
Magda lifted her head to the sound of slip-on shoes hitting the ground. She smiled at her daughter, who crash-landed on the couch—wearing an oversized scarlet shirt and black leggings. Wanda sprawled out all over the sofa.
"Hi, my baby girl." Magda laughed at Wanda's actions.
"Hi, Mama," Wanda said before turning to face her mother upside down. "Did you have fun with your friends?" Wanda nodded, but Magda could see something bothering her daughter. "Up," Magda said, moving her cross stitch to the table beside her. "Up!" She said again directly to Wanda, making the younger woman pout and sit properly on the couch.
Magda slightly turned to her daughter as the TV played re-runs of a 90's comedy in the background.
"Talk to me. What's up." Wanda sighed. Of course, her mother saw right through her. "It's silly." Wanda tried to dismiss the conversation. Magda shook her head. "Wanda, you should talk to me if something bothers you." Wanda deflated her body and looked away.
Magda allowed her daughter to gather her thoughts.
"I..." Wanda looked at her mother. "I really like Natasha..." Magda kept her eyes on her daughter and nodded. "Okay... as more than a friend, correct?" Wanda slowly nodded. "Yes, Mama."
Magda, of course, had her suspicions, but it was nice to see it confirmed and for her daughter not to shy away from telling her the truth. Plus, Magda had been watching Natasha, and she was confident the redhead was infatuated with her daughter.
"Well, that's okay," Magda said, and while Wanda wasn't asking permission or anything, it was nice to hear. "You're an adult, Wanda. I trust you know what you're doing."
That was just it. Wanda knew she wanted Natasha, but since last night, something had been in the back of her mind.
"What else is it?" Magda asked of her daughter. Wanda opened her mouth and let out an anxious breath before speaking. "I just don't want to mess anything up." Magda's heart almost shattered at seeing her daughter this soft and scared.
Wanda had never felt this way about someone.
Sure, boyfriends and girlfriends have come and gone. But this Wanda was growing up, and Magda could see the actual care behind those eyes. "Plus.. you don't think she's too old for me... do you?"
Magda wasn't expecting that, but it would've been a lie if she had said it hadn't crossed her mind. Magda leaned back against the sofa and was quiet with thought.
Wanda watched and softly picked at the skin on her thumb.
"I think Natasha is mature and has had a very different life experience than you have had so far..." Wanda's face began to turn into a frown. "That doesn't mean you and her can't share new experiences. Yes, she is older than you, my dear." Magda paused for motherly dramatic effect. "But like I said, you're both consenting adults and should do what you feel is comfortable." Wanda felt closer to her mom and had her eyes sting with gratitude. "She's a very nice woman," Magda added.
"Thank you, Mama." Wanda leaned forward and hugged her mom. "Of course," Magda said before pulling Wanda's face to look at her. "Just be safe and remember that your heart belongs to you until you trust someone to share it." Wanda nodded as she sniffled. "I love you, Mama."
"I love you too, my Wanda."
Magda released Wanda from her hold. "But if she hurts you, I swear-" Wanda raised her hand with a smile. "I know we have witches in our blood. You'll curse Natasha." Wanda wanted to roll her eyes at the speech she heard numerous times before. "Don't say anything to Papa, please," Wanda asked of her mother.
Magda scoffed. "Please, if anyone is going to be telling him anything, it better be that Natasha." Wanda couldn't help but laugh. "That works." She said before her stomach growled. It was just after lunch, and the intoxicating smell of food was too good to ignore.
Magda had gone back to her cross-stitch. "Don't touch the stuff in the oven. It's for dinner." Wanda rose to her feet. "What is it?" She asked as she made her way to it. "Take a look, but don't touch it!" Magda yelled from the living room.
Wanda listened and took a peek. She quickly turned the oven light off and tilted her head slightly, confused. She then turned around and saw ingredients for Baklava on the counter. "Mama!" Wanda shouted from the kitchen before walking towards Magda on the couch.
Magda turned her head to her daughter and waited for Wanda to keep talking.
"You have Dolma in the oven!?" Magda smiled at her daughter and nodded. Wanda smiled back. It had been forever since her mother made a dish that was so unique to Wanda and her brother. "Is there any special occasion?" Wanda asked.
Magda shrugged. "I just thought it might be nice since my children will be under one roof again."
That made Wanda freeze. "Pietro is coming home?" Wanda's accent thickened as she spoke about her brother. Magda stopped her art and turned around on the couch. "Surprise! Papa is on the way to the airport now to pick him up!"
Wanda smiled wide and grew excited. She hadn't seen her brother since the new year. He was meant to come home before his trip abroad but was so busy wrapping up classes that he couldn't make it home. "Why is he coming home? Shouldn't he be in Russia or Sokovia right now?"
Magda shook her head. "He said he had a two-week break before he had to start his thesis." Wanda joking rolled her eyes. Her brother was not only a super athlete but could never stop studying.
On the flip side, Wanda was taking her summer to relax and forget about the ups and downs of college.
A redhead was inadvertently making sure of that.
"Between you and me, I think he's homesick," Magda said with a certain smile. "Mama, I think you're the one who missed Pietro." Magda waved Wanda away. Wanda laughed and went back to the kitchen. Doing her best not to steal food that was meant for dinner.
By the time Magda finally made it halfway through her cross-stitch, a black car was pulling up the gravel driveway.
Wanda heard the car approach, and before it parked, she was running down the stairs from her room. Magda laughed at how her daughter fumbled with her shoes. "Wanda." Wanda looked at her mom, calling her name. "She's not going anywhere."
Wanda knew it made her look downright bad for Natasha, but she could barely think about anything while she was gone.
Still, Wanda slowed down and breathed before tossing her hair and looking over her face in the mirror by the front door. "She missed you too," Wanda whispered to herself before opening the front door and stepping out.
Her green eyes squinted as she exited due to the sun reflecting off of Kate's car, but they soon adjusted themselves as Natasha stepped out of the passenger seat.
"Hi- oh my god!" Wanda's smile turned to one of panic as she looked over Natasha's face. "What happened!" Her Vans kicked up some rocks as she ran around the front of the car to Natasha's bruised face. Wanda's soft hands immediately touching Natasha's delicate skin.
Kate stepped out from her side and grabbed Natasha's bag from the backseat. Smiling as she watched Wanda's worried eyes scan Natasha's face with care until they turned to Kate as she walked up behind Natasha.
"Did you do this!?" Wanda barked as she clenched her jaw and waited for an answer.
Kate's eyes widened as she could've sworn she saw red instead of Wanda's green eyes. "No- I- She-" Kate stuttered and fumbled over words as Natasha tried to gather Wanda's attention.
"Wanda!" Natasha grabbed Wanda's face and made her look away from her scared friend. "I did it." Wanda knitted her eyebrows together. "What?" She asked as her hands moved down to hold Natasha's wrists.
Their touch sent butterflies to their stomachs.
"I did an expedition boxing match with Kate's girlfriend." That made Wanda scrunched her face more.
Since when did Kate have a girlfriend?
Oh, Natasha was in love with the scrunch and couldn't stop the smile and laugh that escaped her. "What?" Wanda asked as her eyes continued to look over Natasha's face before falling back to her eyes again and again.
Natasha stepped closer into Wanda's space. Her thumb pads rubbed the sides of Wanda's cheeks. "You're cute," Natasha said quietly, making Wanda beam. "You come back bruised, with a bandage on your nose after getting into a fight on purpose, and that's what you have to say?" Wanda said with a stern but gentle tone.
These two knew exactly what they were doing.
Natasha grinned. "I missed you," Natasha added, and Wanda melted at that. "I missed you too, Natasha," Wanda said quietly in between the space they created. Her heart beating rapidly.
"Who exactly did you fight?" Wanda asked as she moved her right hand to Natasha's barely open eye. Her fingertips glided along the edge of the bruise. "Maya Lopez." Wanda looked behind Natasha for any additional information, but she only found Kate on her phone several yards away.
"Don't worry; it was all good fun," Natasha said as her hands fell to Wanda's. Grabbing them and bringing Wanda's attention to her again. "Plus..." Natasha drew out. "I think you like seeing me like this."
Wanda inhaled quickly. "And what if I do?" She raised an eyebrow while trying her best to contain her nerves. "Then I can get bloody and bruised for you," Natasha growled as she stepped closer, placing her boots right next to Wanda's Vans. Their bodies closer than ever. Wanda was trying to control her breathing as they stood in the gravel driveway.
"For me?" Wanda questioned. Natasha nodded. "For you."
Without saying it, they told each other what they wanted to hear.
Wanda smiled and pulled her hands up Natasha's side, stretching herself to make herself taller as her arms wrapped around Natasha's neck. "I know I said it before, but I really like you, Natasha."
There it was. The softness that bled from Wanda.
"Even though I did this to my face?" Wanda smirked at Natasha, making her blush. "Well, technically, I didn't, but-" Wanda stopped Natasha by placing her lips onto the redheads. Natasha wasn't one to ramble, but the nerves were getting to her.
Once Wanda's soft lips touched hers, she grinned into the kiss and felt her stomach flip.
Kate had turned around just in time to finally see her friends not be idiots and tell each other how they felt. She then turned back as the sound of a truck engine and gravel rolled down the driveway.
"I like you too, Wanda," Natasha said as she caught her breath and held Wanda's hand in hers. Wanda bit her bottom lip and went from Natasha's black eye to the sound of her father's truck.
Natasha heard it, too.
In a flash, Natasha and Wanda's hands separated from one another as they stepped back. Natasha picked up her bag from the ground and stood near Wanda as they watched Erik's truck park on the opposite side of Wanda's SUV.
Kate walked up to the two, hung up her call with Maya, and watched Erik step out of the truck and go to the bed, pulling out a suitcase and duffle bag.
Natasha tilted her head before the creaking sound of the passenger door was heard. The redhead watched as a tall man around Wanda's age with dark hair and silver highlights stepped out. He wore aviators, brown boots, slim-fit dark wash jeans, and a graphic tee.
He reminded Kate of a modern-day Ryan Gosling in a certain way.
Natasha wasn't occupied with who the man looked like. All she cared about was who he was.
The man with Erik behind him stopped in front of the porch of the house and opened his arms side. "Sestra!" He yelled in a heavy accent. "Pietro!" Wanda yelled back before running to the man.
Shit.
"Pietro?" Kate quietly asked. Without taking their eyes away, Natasha answered. "Wanda's twin brother." Kate looked shocked at Natasha and could see Nat's green eyes studying the man.
Kate turned back just in time for Wanda to point to Kate and Natasha behind her. Erik nodded to something Wanda said before they started to move closer. Natasha took steps forward to be polite.
Kate followed and started questioning if she should've just dropped Natasha off and left.
Wanda arrived in front of Natasha with a hidden smile while the other two men looked at Natasha differently. Erik was the first to speak with concern while Pietro looked at Natasha through his sunglasses. "Natasha, what the hell happened to you? Are you all right?"
Kate stepped forward. "It's okay. Natasha just got into a fight with my girlfriend." Kate smiled as she didn't hear her own words. Natasha and Wanda opened their mouths to correct Kate, but Pietro spoke up. "Did you win?" Erik smacked his son's head, making his sister cover her mouth to hide a laugh.
Natasha smiled. "No, and it was an exhibition match anyway."
Pietro hummed with a tone of disappointment before he lifted his sunglasses up. It was in the eyes that Natasha could see how similar Wanda and Pietro really were. "Think you could take me?" He smirked, and that got under Natasha's skin for some reason.
However, thankfully, before she could utter a single word, Wanda and Erik had better suggestions. "Oh, quit it!" Erik patted his son's shoulder. Wanda stepped in front of Natasha and nervously laughed. "Trust me, Pietro, you don't want to do that." 
Kate thought the same thing.
He shrugged. "Maybe someday." He looked Natasha up and down. His eyes stopping in one place along the way. "Solider." He smiled and turned with his father to greet Magda on the porch. Her eyes moved from Natasha and Wanda to her son.
"What the hell was that," Natasha whispered with her arms crossed over her chest as everyone else, aside from Wanda and Kate, disappeared inside the house. "He's just trying to get a rise out of you. He's annoying like that."
Wanda was correct, and for a moment, Natasha remembered that that's what siblings do to their sisters and their friends.
"Plus, knowing him, it's his way of flirting." Wanda shook her head at that gross thought. "Ew." Kate audibly said, making Natasha laugh.
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dividers by @/benkeibear
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tgmsunmontue · 1 year ago
Text
With our pets, a house becomes our home
5k Hangster MeetCute (Explicit, but not very by my standards). Bradley is the vet (DVM) that Jake takes Brisket to after he adopts her and moves to Corpus Christi to be a flying instructor.
I started this fic before I saw @yeagrave's art, but this post is 100% Jake's lockscreen (and those are a set of Jake's spare dog tags).
                Monday mornings generally suck. The people who have left their pets wellness until normal business hours because they didn’t want to pay the extra emergency fees. He quietly judges them. This Monday sucks more than most though, because he’s covering another vet on what is meant to be his day off. But he doesn’t want to make the admin staff have to reshuffle the thirty or so appointments that he now has facing him in a long gauntlet of monotony. Hopefully there will be something interesting that pops up.
                He deals with the standard checkups, listens to heart murmurs, administers vaccines, makes notes for the techs, gives instructions about diets he knows get ignored by owners who think they know better. He has to change his scrubs when a dog vomits on him and yeah… he wants his day off back with a deep burning passion but pushes through. He can shower and blob when he gets home and bitch and moan to his friends. They can compare Mondayitis stories and see who comes out worst.
                He steps into the waiting room, and there’s only two people left, one a woman with two kittens in a carrier, and the other a man cradling a puppy. He’s only got one left for his ticket today, and it’s a puppy so okay, at least he gets to look at a cute puppy and a cuter guy.
                “Brisket?”
                The guy blushes and Bradley can’t help his smile getting bigger as he gestures toward the consultation room.
                “Uh, hi.”
                “Hi, I’m Bradley. What brings Brisket in today?”
                “She needs a general checkup, and I wanted to register her with a vet since I moved here in the weekend… She needs vaccines I think? And to be fixed? And I wanted to ask some questions?”
                “So she’s here for the works… can I have a look?” Bradley asks and the guy blushes again, looks down at the tiny bundle who looks back at him adoringly and Bradley has a thing for guys who like animals. Couldn’t be with anyone who didn’t like animals, wouldn’t feel like he could trust them. He hands the puppy over to Bradley and he handles her gently, lets her lick and sniff at him a little before lowering her to the examination table.
                “Tell me about how you got Brisket,” Bradley says, running his hands down the little body, grinning as she happily licks his fingers, tail wagging enthusiastically. She’s very sweet. Most guys like having big dogs, so he’s genuinely curious as to whether this guy chose this dog, or if he’s here at the bequest of someone else. Girlfriend or boyfriend maybe. Purely out of professional courtesy.
                “Uh, I’ve wanted a dog for ages. Finally getting settled in one place for a while so I figured it was finally time you know? So I went to the shelter in San Diego, not really intending to adopt then and there…”
                “She’s a rescue?” Bradley says, and he’s a little surprised. Because if they’re not big dogs then they’re usually little dog breeds, so some hybrid-cross-breed that some breeder thinks will be in demand. This little thing hadn’t looked like any breed he was familiar with, but there’s so many new ones and he’s not usually up with them all.
                “Well yeah, of course. She just had such a friendly personality you know?”
                “She is very sweet natured,” Bradley agrees, because the guy is clearly besotted with his puppy, and it’s adorable. He listens to her heart and lungs, takes her temperature and soothes her through the discomfit.
                “So did you have paperwork showing what she’s already been vaccinated for? Most shelters give you adoption paperwork?”
                “Oh, yeah, they did. One second,” the guy says, pulling folded pieces of paper out of his pocket and handing them over. On the top of the paper are all the details of the dog, and then down the bottom the details of the new owner. Jake Seresin. At least he has a name now.
                “Okay, so she’s all up to date with all the vaccines, she’ll need to come back in six weeks for a booster. And we don’t do on the spot spaying or neutering, you’ll have to make an appointment when she’s a little older. Try not to let her out unattended, because we don’t want to be adding to the puppy population, regardless of the fact that she’d no doubt make gorgeous babies…You a first time dog owner?”
                “I grew up on a ranch, had lots of animals. Horses mainly. Well, beef stock. But lots of working animals, not pets. She’s my first.”
                “Well, you made a good choice. She’s got a lovely temperament. Nice and healthy,” Bradley states, laughing as she tries to chew on his thumb and he reaches for a dog toy from the jar. “Okay, so she’s going to be mouthy, she’ll want to chew on things as her adult teeth come through. You might find a couple of puppy teeth lying around but they usually just swallow them. It’s all normal. You have any questions?”
                “Uh…I… um. Made a list.”
                “Sensible,” Bradley says, and this guy’s adorable intensity is commendable, he wished more owners thought to ask their vets the questions rather than trusting Google.
                “You’ve, uh, already answered a few of them actually.”
                “That’s good, what else have you got?”
                He asks about diet and exercise, sleep and routines, anxiety and separation and toilet training and Bradley answers them all, writes down a few notes and links to some reputable websites. Recommends a puppy obedience course, steers him away from problematic dog toys which can cause more harm than good. The appointment definitely runs well over the time, but it’s his last of the day and he’s got nowhere else he’d rather be, and after the day he’s had this is a nice silver lining.
                “Anything else I can help you with?”
                “No, I think that’s it. Thanks so much, it’s really helped.”
                “You’re more than welcome. I guess I just have a question for you now.”
                “Of course, what is it?”
                “I don’t usually do this, but you want to grab a drink sometime?”
                “A drink. Like…A date?”
                “Yep.”
                “Yeah. Yeah I’d like that.”
                “Great, let me get a card.” He grabs a business card, usually reserved for when he goes to conferences, carefully prints his personal cell phone number on the back and hands it over. “I look forward to hearing from you.”
…             …             …
                Jake gets back to his house and immediately lets Brisket out into the back garden, looks at the little rectangular piece of card and puts the number into his phone before he loses it. He puts the name in as Bradley but then follows it with the flame emoji, followed by the guy with the moustache and then the dog emoji. That’s enough to remind him of who exactly Bradley is. Not that he thinks he’s going to need the reminder.
                He spends some time looking at the websites Bradley has recommended, sends an enquiry about the puppy obedience classes. He’d already made an appointment for the booster shots and for getting Brisket fixed. Definitely doesn’t want to wait that long before seeing Bradley again. He grins. Only in town for five days and he’s got a guys number. Without even trying. Phoenix told him a puppy would help him make friends, that he needed as much help as he could, maybe she was onto something.
Hi Bradley. This is Jake. Let me know when you want to do that drink. I don’t start work until next week so currently free as a bird.
                It’s not too late, and it’s been a couple of hours. He’s not going to play hard to get. He’s never considered himself hard to get when the guy is as attractive as Bradley is, and he’s never been one to play games or overthink setting up dates or hookups. He’s hoping this is maybe more than a hookup.
I’m free most evenings. Tomorrow? Dinner?
                Jake grins, likes the idea of dinner even more than a drink, it’s a good sign; sends a message back, organizing a time but asking for recommendations of where they could go to eat.
…             …             …
                They settle at a table and quickly peruse the menu before placing orders with the hovering waitstaff. They’ve made superficial small-talk about the weather and how Brisket is doing, but he’s hoping he can find out more about Jake himself.
                “So you’re new to the area?”
                “Uh yeah, I guess. I lived here a while back but am back for work.”
                “And what do you do for work?”
                “I’m in the Navy. An aviator,” Jake says, like he’s a little unsure.
                “You’re shitting me…” Bradley says with a disbelieving laugh, because he’s had a guy tell him he was a naval aviator before. Except he hadn’t been and the lie had quickly bitten the other guy in the ass when Bradley had quickly realized and called him out on it. It had been a shame because Bradley had genuinely liked him.
                “Why would I lie?”
                “Well, some guys think it’ll sound impressive…”
                “Isn’t it?”
                “Well… maybe to some guys,” Bradley concedes.
                “Not you?”
                “No. Not to me. I’m more impressed you adopted a rescue, travelled across country with it and care about your puppy than what you might or might not do for your work.”
                “Most people care that I disappear for months on end. Or have a thing against the military in general.”
                “Huh,” Bradley states, realizing that that was maybe where his hesitance had come from. “I’m used to people being away for long periods,” Bradley states. Jake raises an eyebrow. “Sorry. I’m just… I was a Navy brat. Sort of.”
                “Sort of?”
                “Yeah. Grew up on bases, spent most of my life on them. We probably know some of the same people, if you’re actually a naval aviator…” Bradley says, still giving him an out, because maybe this guy is not realising the hole he’s dug.
                “How do you figure?”
                “My dad was a naval aviator, and until very recently my godfather was also a naval aviator, although he’s recently retired. Although I don’t think the Navy will actually ever get rid of him. He’s pretty entrenched.”
                “Yeah, what’s his name?”
                “Pete Mitchell,” Bradley provides, and Jake’s immediate response makes him relax a little. That’s definitely recognition of the name.
                “Maverick? Mav’s your godfather?”
                Bradley opens his mouth, snaps it shut again. Not just recognition but more than that. He's calling him Mav. Of fucking course he knows Mav, and he hadn’t used his callsign so this guy is legitimately a naval aviator.
                “You know Mav huh?”
                “Yeah. He’s… damn. He’s fucking insane but so good. He was brought in to train us and he’s just… that good.”
                “Don’t let him hear you say that. His ego doesn’t need to be made any bigger.”
                “He deserves his ego, he’s fucking legendary.”
                “You sound like a fan.”
                “Yeah, I guess I am. He’s… worthy of fans.”
                “Yeah well, he’s my godfather. So there you go.”
                “Wait, are you little goose?”
                “Oh god…” Bradley groans.
                “You are!”
                “Yeah yeah… this is quickly losing the date vibe.”
                “Sorry, I can bring it back to that,” Jake says, and his hand is suddenly resting on Bradley’s, warm and dry, fingers stroking the back of his hand.
                “Yeah, think you better or you might strike out…”
                “Wouldn’t want that…” Jake says, and his eyes are dark and amused and Bradley feels a little thrill at being the subject of his intense gaze.
                “So, you’re an actual naval aviator.”
                “Yeah, no wonder you aren’t impressed if you grew up hearing about Mav’s exploits. Fuck.”
                “Trust me, I find you plenty impressive.”
                “Good to know,” Jake says, his smile clearly pleased. “I’m one of the new flight instructors. Have a three-year stint here and Kingsville unless they need me for something special.”
                “Nice. Do you like teaching?”
                Their conversation changes as they talk more, discussing what their upbringings were like, their families, respective careers, all of Bradley’s current animals, favorite food and drink. It’s easy, their humor similar and gently teasing at times, making laughter come easily. It’s one of the best first-dates he’s ever had and it’s not until there’s a polite cough that he looks up to see the rest of the restaurant is empty, the waitstaff having clearly cleared up and are now just waiting on them. A quick glance at his phone tells him it’s nearly midnight and his mind bugs out a little.
                “Shit, sorry. I guess we got caught up talking.”
                “It’s fine.”
                He grabs the bill, leaving a generous tip for keeping them and tells Jake he can grab the bill next time, which has him murmuring next time huh under his breath, close to Bradley’s ear as they walk close together as they step outside. There are only two cars left in the lot and he guesses the staff must park somewhere else. He walks Jake to his car, only a few yards from his own truck.
                “I had a really good time tonight…” Bradley starts.
                “Me too. Wouldn’t mind doing it again…”
                “What are you doing Saturday?”
                “Having dinner with this hot guy I just met…”
                “What a weird coincidence, so am I…”
                He shifts forward, eyes searching Jake’s face to make sure there isn’t any hesitation before placing a gentle kiss on Jake’s mouth. He pulls back slowly, his lips quirking in amusement when Jake quickly gives him another kiss back, slightly firmer and longer and he feels the flicker of warm anticipation come to life in his belly. Potential something.
                “Don’t suppose I can tempt you to come back to my place?”
                “I’m definitely tempted, but I’ve got to get home. Dogs.”
                “Oh yeah, of course.”
                “Bring Brisket on Saturday. She can meet the pack…”
                He doesn’t want to mention that Jake could also bring all her gear, as well as a spare toothbrush for himself.
…             …             …
                They’ve been messaging since dinner on Tuesday and Jake feels completely settled into his house now, he’s driven to both Corpus Christi and Kingsville to familiarize himself with the routes. He’s taken Brisket to her first puppy obedience class, figured out the most convenient grocery store. All week he’s been looking forward to Saturday, packs some things and leaves them in has car, so if he needs any of it they’ll be close at hand. If it’s effectively a sleepover backpack for him and Brisket that’s between him and Brisket.
                He pulls into the drive of the house address Bradley had given him and looks at the tall fence that surrounds the back garden, can already hear barking and he looks down at Brisket who is sitting there, ears pricking forward at the sound of other dogs. He gets out, grabs her bag of stuff and carries her toward the house, glad she at least seems curious about the barking rather than terrified. He rings the bell, eyes widening at the sudden increase in barking and then Bradley is there, smiling at him behind the wavy glass of the door. Immediately the barking ceases, although there is a small yap, and then the door opens.
                “Hi. Come on in.”
                “Hi. Uh. Are you sure she’s going to be okay?”
                “Trust me, if anything she’ll rule them with an iron paw… feel free to put her down.”
                Jake doesn’t particularly want to, but Bradley is looking expectant, as are the five dogs who are all sitting and waiting obediently. He knows they aren’t all Bradley’s dogs permanently, that he’s fostering three and dog-sitting one, but he can’t remember which one is which. Most of the dogs are normal sized, one is huge though, and he wishes he remembered which one Bradley said was his. Then a cat walks in and insolently stalks in front of the line of dogs and collapses at Bradley’s feet.
                “Curtiss,” Bradley states, waving a hand at the cat with a sardonic sigh. The fact that none of the dogs have moved, except one, the largest, whose tail had started wagging enthusiastically makes Jake feel more confident about putting Brisket down. She is nowhere near as disciplined as any of the other dogs. Hell, the cat is probably more disciplined than Brisket, despite the fact it is a cat and takes direction from no one. Understandably she runs from him to Bradley, then to the cat, then back to Jake, then takes turns running to and around each dog and prancing playfully, like she expects them to play with her.
                “I’m going to give them the release signal and it’s going to get chaotic, but just trust me okay? They’re well trained.”
                He believes it, but sure enough in less than a second there’s barking again, six dogs suddenly all barking and then they’re running and Brisket is chasing after them and Bradley grins at him.
                “I gave them the signal for outside. Brewster is too big to not be well trained, and he generally gets all other dogs quickly following his lead.”
                “What kind of dog is he again?”
                “A Leonberger. He was surrendered to a local shelter because the owners couldn’t afford to keep him. He eats a lot. He went unadopted because of the costs associated with feeding him, raft of potential health issues as he aged and because he had zero training. I’ve had him for five years now.”
                “He’s massive,” Jake says, and he knows he’s stating the fucking obvious but when Bradley had said he had just the one big dog, he had never imagined this. He’s pretty sure Brisket is the size of one of his paws.
                “Yep. But as I said, he’s very well trained. I work with him every day as well. Come on, I promised you dinner.”
                “You cooked?”
                “I did, but it’s only one of the five meals I can make, so don’t go thinking I’m accomplished or anything.”
                “As long as it’s edible.”
                He takes the offered beer, watches as Bradley dishes out some pasta dish along with some garlic bread and then directs him to sit at a high bench on bar stools rather than at the dining table.
                “We don’t want Brewster putting his mouth into our food, at least up here we have a slightly better chance of protecting it.”
                “I thought you said he was really well trained?”
                “Not when I’m eating food. All bets are off if I’m eating.”
                Jake laughs and just like it did on Tuesday, conversation flows easily. Bradley can follow his work talk easily, obviously used to Navy talk because of Mav, his own work stories are equal parts hilarious and terrifying. He’s attentive, giving Jake his full attention and he finds he likes that a lot more than he thought he would. They finish dinner, Bradley quickly stacking his dishwasher before feeding the dogs. He watches as Bradley holds their attention before giving them the signal that they can eat and he can’t help but be impressed. He’s pretty sure Brisket is only going to have to look at him and he’s going to cave to her every whim. He does try and look like he’s not a complete soft touch in front of Bradley as he feeds her, but he doesn’t think he succeeds.
                They go into the back lawn and throw balls for the dogs, starting an elaborate game of keep-away for about twenty minutes before Bradley offers him dessert. He wants to ask if it’s Bradley himself on offer but doesn’t, instead takes the bowl of fruit and ice-cream and makes himself comfortable on the sofa, apparently safe from Brewster as he’s afraid of the scent of fruit. There’s a collection of boardgames, none of which he’s familiar with so he asks about them and learns that it’s another of Bradley’s hobbies.
                When they’re finished he follows Bradley back to the kitchen, notices it’s much quieter, almost dark outside and there’s no more barking and he looks around, suddenly anxious.
                “She’s just over there…” Bradley says, his lips twitching with a smile and Jake’s not sure if he’s laughing at him or… oh. That’s fucking cute. Brisket is curled up on Brewster, she’s somehow managed to climb up the almost mountain like body and curl up on top of him. He grabs his phone and snaps a photo, and then a few more because one is never going to be enough.
                “She’s all tuckered out… You going to wake her up?”
                Jake looks up at Bradley’s tone, and his eyes are hooded and Jake feels an immediate jolt of arousal spark through him.
                “No… she looks far too comfortable. Think I need to go to bed too…”
                “Yeah?”
                “Definitely. Show me the way…”
…             …             …
                They’ve not talked about what they’re doing, not in the actual physical and practical sense. Not in terms of sex and he’s definitely been raised in a house with the rule of if you can’t talk about it you shouldn’t be doing it. Which actually only goes so far when you really don’t want to share details of your sex life with your surrogate parents, or hear anything about theirs. He does agree in principle though, and there’s only one way to find out. Conversation hasn’t been difficult between them so he doesn’t expect this to be awkward either. He shifts slightly so he can rest his head on his hand while his other hand runs up and down from Jake’s shoulder to his hip.
                “Anything you don’t like?”
                “Uh…”
                “Anything you do like? Or prefer? I’m easy…”
                “Lucky me.”
                “Can I touch?”
                “Yeah…course.”
                Bradley lets his hand rub Jake’s cock through his underwear as he kisses him, enjoys the feel of Jake’s body moving against his hand, body and mouth. Jake’s free hand runs through the hair on his chest, then his shoulders, down his arm before there are blunt nails digging into his ass; then finally a large palm rubs his cock far too fleetingly to be anything more than a frustrating taste before it starts back at the beginning.
                “This okay?”
                “Yeah, look, if you do something I don’t like I’ll say something okay?”
                “And if I do something you like?”
                “Actually, you could work on that a little bit more…”
                He kisses him hard then, grinds their hips together and palms an ass cheek in his hand, holding Jake tight against him.
                “Yeah, fuck…”
                He shifts, pushes Jake back to lie on his back and then straddles one of Jake’s thighs. He runs both hands down Jake’s naked chest, leans down to kiss him again, hands on either side of Jake’s shoulders. Jake looks good, is confident with it, Bradley can’t help but find it attractive. He shifts a little, Jake’s hands are all over, hips lifting up to try and rub against him and Bradley would tease him for being impatient but he is starting to feel the same.
                Their breathing is getting shallower, and he kisses over Jake’s collar bone, licks a little into the slight dip in his clavicle and assumes it’s a little ticklish from the way Jake laughs a little. He runs a hand down Jake’s side, his mouth moving down his chest but his eyes are on Jake’s neck and mouth, muscles taut and mouth open as he breathes harshly. He’s clearly given up waiting for Bradley to pay attention to his dick, has his own hand rubbing himself, occasionally detouring to rub Bradley’s dick as well. He moves his mouth over Jake’s pectorals, sucks gently at one nipple, wanting to know if this is something Jake –
                 “Fucking hell,” Jake exclaims, body jerking up as if electrified and Bradley pulls back immediately.
                “Good or bad?”
                “Good. Do it again …”
                Bradley grins and seals his mouth around his right nipple again and sucks, flicking his tongue over the harder nub of flesh in his mouth and Jake’s entire body arches again and Bradley can’t believe how good he looks. How good he feels.
                “Fuck, why does that feel so good?”
                “Lots of nerve endings…”
                “It was a fucking rhetorical question…”
                He snorts, lowers his mouth back and presses down with his lower body at the same time, wants to give something for Jake to grind against, push him toward climax. Jake is reading his body easily, his hips angling slightly to thrust against the juncture of his thigh and hip, hands both on Bradley’s lower back urging him closer, pulling him down and Bradley lets a little more of his weight press down. The moan Jake lets out is gratifying and he reaches a hand between them and presses harder, feels the dampness from where he’s leaking pre-come.
                “Lube?”
                “No, I like it a little, uh, rough… you go ahead though, if you want…”
                “Nope, I’m all good…”
                His lips are red and swollen and Bradley wants to make him look like this all the time. He runs a finger under the elastic of the underwear and then Jake’s hips are up and he shifts back and out of the way. Watches as Jake pushes them down and he can’t actually get them off with the way Bradley is half-kneeling over him, one thigh between Jake’s legs. He shuffles down the bed. Drags his hands down Jake’s legs, tugs the underwear off before moving back up, placing gentle kisses on knees, thighs and hips before he licks up the length of Jake’s cock, kisses the head and lets his moustache scrape against the skin gently. Jake is shifting, clearly wanting to move more but holding himself back and he’s got far too much control for Bradley’s liking.
                He wraps his hand around Jake’s cock, a little firmer than he would usually, but Jake had said he likes it a little rough. He jerks it steadily, watches as Jake’s eyes squeeze shut, mouth opening in a silent gasp and he keeps going. It’s been a while, but he knows how to multitask and he wants to hear and see what will happen next. Knows getting Jake off is likely going to make him come as well. He settles his mouth over the same nipple he’d sucked before, and it’s a little pink, and he sucks again. The resulting words from Jake’s mouth are nonsensical in between loud gasps for air and what he recognizes as his name. He doesn’t say anything, can’t really, with his mouth busy sucking intently. His hand has sped up and he’s resting a fair bit of his weight on Jake’s leg, partly pinning Jake beneath him and his cock is hard and leaking. One of Jake’s hands is fisted in his hair, holding Bradley to his chest and then his whole body goes taut like a rubber band being stretched before it snaps back and then Jake is coming all over his hand and he gentles the sucking to more gentler licks and swirls of his tongue because it’s most likely going to be a little bruised.
                 “Ungh… fuck…”
                He doesn’t bother moving very much, just shoves his own underwear down enough to take his cock in his hand and jerk himself off, hard and desperate to come, no need to try and make it last longer or hold back. He moves enough to kiss Jake and he feels a hand try to come and help him and while he appreciates the intent it isn’t something that is even a consideration right now, he’s too close and he doesn’t need much…
                “Bradley…”
                Yeah, that’ll do it. He comes with a groan, his come joining Jake’s on his stomach. He rests his forehead against Jake’s neck while he tries to steady his breathing. Their breathing is the only sound he can hear outside of his body, heartbeat pounding in his ears, waits a moment before he lets out a long shuddery breath and kisses Jake on the chin.
                “You okay?”
                “What’s that saying, ask a stupid question?”
                “Get a stupid answer…”
                “Yeah.”
                He grabs some tissues, passes the box to Jake and they wipe themselves clean and he feels fantastic, hopes Jake feels similarly. He kisses him, takes the dirty tissues from his unresisting fingers and lies down beside him.
                “Stupidly okay. You?”
                “Yeah. That sounds about right. Damned good for a first run…”
                “Mmm. Imagine what it will be like when we’ve got a few more test runs behind us.”
                “Always room for improvement.”
                “That’s very true… I’m just going to go and let the dogs out but I’ll be right back. If you wanted to stay that is?”
                “Yeah, staying sounds good. Just… uh. Brisket normally sleeps on the bed with me.”
                “Think she’s found a new bed.”
                “Lucky for me I won’t be lonely I guess.”
                Bradley grins.
…             …             …
2 MONTHS LATER
                He’s running a little late, but not by a lot. He’s messaged both Jake and Mav to say he’s running a bit behind due to a surgery requiring a bit more time. He walks into the restaurant and spies them sitting at a booth near the back, tells the hostess he’s with them and raises his hand in greeting as Mav is standing to give him a hug.
                “Bradley!”
                “Hey Mav, good to see you,” Bradley says, returning the tight embrace.
                “Good to see you too. You’re looking good. This is… Jake.”
                Bradley leans down and gives Jake a kiss, takes his time and licks into his mouth.
                “Hi.”
                “I hope you don’t meet everyone that way…”
                “Only my boyfriend Mav,” Bradley says, laughing. “You didn’t tell him?” he asks Jake.
                “Nope, one of my joys in life is keeping him on his toes,” Jake says, grinning at them both as they sit. Mav is rolling his eyes and huffing, but Bradley can tell he’s a little pleased. At least he knows now why Bradley really didn’t care about him inviting someone else along to dinner.
                “How long has this been going on?” Mav asks, looking between them with interest.
                “Couple of months,” Bradley provides.
                “You move fast,” Mav says to Jake dryly.
                “What can I say? I know a good thing when I see one.”
                “Plus Brisket loves me.”
                “She does have exceptional taste.”
                “Much like her owner. Although don’t you get the names mixed up? Brisket, Bradley and Brewster? There’s definitely a theme there…”
                Jake blinks, looks at Bradley and he just shrugs.
                “We could get a couple more pets and name them Brownie and Bruno and you’d have the whole set.”
                Jake laughs, eye brow quirks;
                “Sounds like a plan.”
69 notes · View notes
lifeafterartsch00l · 8 months ago
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✨ Sns rec’s ✨
I read a fabulous post from @longlivefeedback about supporting authors so I thought I’d try and give it a go since I’m constantly looking through the Naruto/Sasuke tag 🙊 I’m going to try and make a new habit and post once a week with my sasunaru/narusasu/sns (and maybe other pairings/fandoms) recs!
Some awesome fics I’ve been enjoying on a03 lately include:
Finger on the detonator by foreverbaby
Twelve Steps by foreverbaby
An anchor in the storm by cecific
don’t act like it’s a bad thing (to fall in love with me) by heartsugu
What counts for anything by kayeeyooblue
Solis occasum by wouldyoukiindly
Konohamaru wanted to rest by anaria_k
Thank you talented authors 😊 I don’t think I’m following any of these authors on tumblr 🤔 but I’ll look for them! 🤗 please tag them in the comments if you know who they are!
Read below for details on fic recommendations ⬇️
Finger on the detonator by foreverbaby
Im so happy i finally found this author! I started with Finger on the detonator but Twelve Steps really spoke to me and my own feelings/experiences with a difficult childhood. And making art! I love how sexy and meta and healing and radical they are. I’m excited to read more from this author ❤️ Multiple chapters.
“Chapters: 2/?
Rating: Explicit
Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto
Characters: Shimura Danzou, Hyuuga Neji, Sai (Naruto), Juugo (Naruto)
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Activism, High School, Military Backstory, Politics, Teenage Rebellion, Partners in Crime, Gay Uchiha Sasuke, Crack Treated Seriously, Anarchy, Making Out, lazy US-specific setting...sorry, Wet Dream, Breaking and Entering, Minor Injuries, Closet Sex, Frottage
Summary:
uzumakiswag: this might b kinda weird but like i just got back from my deployment and stuff and i saw u on the kwp direct action discord when i joined that? and i was gonna go to a meetup but idk anybody else there yet sooo do u go to those? wld u want to go together next week? hahaha
taka99: That's a joke right
uzumakiswag: no y is that funnyp
taka99: You’re literally in the US military
It's totally normal to engage in a little gay domestic terrorism just to impress your crush...right?”
Twelve Steps by foreverbaby
“Chapters: 3/3
Rating: Explicit
Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto, minor past naruto/sakura and sasuke/suigetsu
Characters: Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke, Hoozuki Suigetsu, Haruno Sakura
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, POV Alternating, Alcoholics Anonymous, Childhood Friends, Childhood Trauma, Addiction, Homophobia, Light Angst, sasuke vapes, criterion channel and chill, Blow Jobs, Shower Sex, Friends to Lovers, naruto's bi awakening, sasuke's issues
Summary: One day at a time, they always said. But for Sasuke every single day was exactly the same: serving the same gruff truckers the same greasy pancakes and eggs, heading to the same gym to do the same workout, going home to stare at the same half-formed Final Draft document, then waking up the next morning to do the same thing all over again. Was that really one day at a time, or was it more like one single hellish stretched-out day that dragged on endlessly and forever? And what exactly was the point of staying clean when that was your reward?
Everybody told Naruto after Sakura called off their engagement that what he needed was a “fresh start.” Naruto’s fresh start had so far consisted of a new city where he knew nobody, a park ranger job that paid him sub-minimum-wage, an empty studio apartment in a part of town not yet gentrified enough to be out of that price range, a lot of lonely Skyping with his friends, and, now, apparently, an A.A. meeting at a Quality Inn.
When Naruto moves away from his hometown after a breakup, he's surprised to see someone he recognizes at his first A.A. meeting in a new city: his childhood best friend, Sasuke Uchiha”
An anchor in the storm by cecific
One shot, contemporary au, poem. POV from Sasuke. I haven’t read any poems before for sns! Lovely, great ending 🥹💗 the author says their English is bad but I truly think no apology is needed because i think their English is great and hell I only speak English and can’t write poetry!
“Chapters: 1/1
Rating: General Audiences
Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto
Characters: Uchiha Sasuke, Uzumaki Naruto
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Idiots in Love, Uchiha Sasuke Needs a Hug, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Falling In Love, slow burn but it never actually lights on fire, Sasuke's mother is dead, Sick Character, Soulmates
Summary: Sasuke's on a blind date set up by his father, his date is late so a young bright man keeps him company.. It feels like a fated encounter between the two.
Essentially a poem that tells a story. Also sorry, English is my first language and yet I'm horrid!”
don’t act like it’s a bad thing (to fall in love with me) by heartsugu
One shot. Sweet n spicy, my fave combination! 🍭🔥 I really loved how Naruto was written here & that it’s Sakura positive 😊 I really hope this author writes more sns 🤞😍🤞
“Chapters: 1/1
Rating: Mature
Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura & Uchiha Sasuke
Characters: Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke, Haruno Sakura, Dai-nana-han | Team 7 Ensemble (Naruto), Yamanaka Ino, Hatake Kakashi
Additional Tags: POV Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Sasuke Returns to Konoha, Blank Period (Naruto), Haruno Sakura is So Done, Background Relationships, Mild Hurt/Comfort, mostly fluff tbh, Bad Humor, Emotional Constipation, Dai-nana-han | Team 7 Shenanigans (Naruto), Mutual Pining, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Haruno Sakura & Uchiha Sasuke are Best Friends, Domestic, Making Out, Love Bites, Resolved Sexual Tension, No beta we die like Neji, Everyone Is Gay, Self-Indulgent, Minor Haruno Sakura/Yamanaka Ino
Summary: He hadn’t meant for it to get this bad, but being back in Konoha had shown him how dull his world was without Naruto.
Being dragged around on dumb errands, or training together, or even just sitting around and watching the sunset had given Sasuke peace of mind he hadn’t ever known. He felt like himself again, and Naruto was the cause.
Naruto was his home.
5,000 words of sns word vomit because this is what makes me happy these days idk”
What counts for anything by kayeeyooblue
I love how in this fic Sasuke gets to try normalcy and be an awkward teen! 😭 ❤️ great dynamic between Sasuke & Naruto (I really enjoyed reading about their developing relationship) & also spicy 🔥
“Chapters: 12/?
Rating: Not Rated
Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto
Characters: Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke, Hatake Kakashi, Tsunade (Naruto), Haruno Sakura, Nara Shikamaru, Uchiha Itachi
Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Slow Burn, Coming of Age, Soft Uchiha Sasuke, Sexual exploration, First Kiss, First Time
Summary: months after the 4th war, sasuke and naruto meet again. except now they have time”
Solis occasum by wouldyoukiindly
Reading this was like a fresh breath of air! I loved how the characterisation felt very true. I hope they do more chapters! 💗🙏🏽Canon divergent Boruto-era.
“Chapters: 1/?
Rating: Mature
Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura/Hyuuga Hinata
Characters: Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke, Haruno Sakura, Hyuuga Hinata
Additional Tags: Old men naruto and sasuke find out they're gay in their 30s, Hokage Uzumaki Naruto, Co-Parenting, Divorce, more tags when i write more!, Hinata is Naruto's best friend, Sakura is Sasuke's best friend, Domestic Fluff, Naruto has ADHD, sasuke has autism
Summary: After becoming Hokage, Naruto notices that despite it all, he's had no time to hang out with his best friend. He never realized how much he missed Sasuke's attitude, demeanour, and all around being; he hasn't felt this way about anyone before.
It's always been Sasuke, hasn't it?
And maybe that realization will be the very end of him.
(Naruto and sasuke realize they're gay in their 30s and divorce their wives, who in turn, realize they are also gay and everyone is friends and co-parents. yessir.)”
Konohamaru wanted to rest by anaria_k
Cheeky, sexy, & Konohamaru POV! One shot. I love looking at sasunaru fanart and I love it when clever authors make fanfic inspired by it (author links the art which helped inspire the fic). 😋🫶🏽 one shot
“Chapters: 1/1
Rating: Mature
Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto
Characters: Sarutobi Konohamaru, Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke
Additional Tags: Comedy, Post-Canon, Post-War, Blank Period (Naruto), Post-Fourth Shinobi War (Naruto), Drabble, Pre-Slash, Semi-Public Sex, Third Wheels, Konohamaru sees something he wasn't intending to see, Hot, Dirty Thoughts, Pre-Relationship, Canon Compliant, Not a Date, Idiots in Love, Boys In Love, everyone can see it, Konohamaru does for sure, Sexual Tension, also Konohamaru might be accidentaly bi
Summary: Konohamaru returns from a mission to the village and, finding himself in a bar, accidentally witnesses a very non-accidental scene. He doesn't like it. Although?…”
🍥+🍅=❤️
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maniculum · 1 year ago
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Bestiaryposting Results: Choglaem
First, it seems that Tumblr's search function is flawed in such a way that just searching the tag doesn't actually get all of the results. So if you drew something for this round and it's not in this post, let me know and I'll put it in a reblog. Same applies to previous (and future) rounds.
Anyway, it's now time to look at the results for the Choglaem! Anyone who doesn't know what that means is encouraged to look at previous posts in this series, collected at https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting .
And here's the link to the entry people are working from:
Now, let's get into it. As before, these are presented roughly in the order that people posted them. (I'm going to go through the tag on Tumblr's regular search, then again on the alternate search method someone suggested, so any that only show up on the alternate source are going to be at the end.)
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@embervoices (link to post here) decided to show that the Choglaem is bigger than all living things on the earth by... having it fight Godzilla. Perfect. Inspired. Love it. No notes.
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@mobileleprechaun (link to post) has helpfully labelled their drawing for us, which I enjoy. Also the interpretation that the tongue through the blowhole is a lure used by an underwater predator is a good one -- honestly, putting something this large in the water just feels more plausible, you know? In their tags, mobileleprechaun describes this as "sort of a dinosaur snake tsuchinoko", and I had to Google that last one, so let me show you the best result from that ...
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(If anyone else needed that word defined, it's a creature from Japanese folklore that does actually look a lot like a fat snake, but I'm pretty sure it's not just a fat snake. There's a (disappointingly brief) Wikipedia article about it here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tsuchinoko)
Anyway, the drawing is great! I have no idea why Saddam Hussein is there; you'll have to ask mobileleprechaun.
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@coolest-capybara (link to post here) has given her Choglaem wings to aid in causing the air to become turbulent. The medieval stylization is pretty dead-on, I have to say; I swear I've seen those trees before. And I think this Choglaem may actually be the closest to the drawing in the Aberdeen Bestiary out of all the submissions we got, so coolest-capybara is clearly quite good at thinking like a medieval artist. The post linked above contains a brief explanation of her design choices and also a link to the medieval illustration that elephant is based on.
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@silverhart-makes-art (link to post here) has once more done a very realistic-looking depiction of this week's beaſt. According to their post, part of their inspiration was an oarfish -- and I have to say this is pretty believable as a terrestrial version of an oarfish, so well done. I'm impressed by this one, which manages to look cool and dangerous but also kinda cute -- I think the tongue-through-the-blowhole part of the description makes all of them look a bit goofy in an endearing sort of way. The post linked above describes their design decisions, including a brief diversion over round pupils vs. slit pupils in snakes.
Silverhart also mentions that the nonsense-names I'm using sound like the names of mythical animals in a fantasy novel, so I feel I should confess what my process for randomly generating these names was. I've got a Goblin conlang that's been sitting in my pile of works-in-progress for years; I just fed the phonology from that into Zompist's gen program (link here), then picked out several dozen of my favorite results. So that's why they sound like kinda-plausible words.
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@sweetlyfez (link to post here) has drawn us a Choglaem who is having problems. Or, I don't know, maybe it meant to knot itself up like that; who am I to judge? Either way I think it's cute. Just look at that face. A brief overview of her design decisions is included in the linked post; I think the chicken crest is a pretty sensible call given the source material.
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@pomrania (link to post here) has made some creative choices with their version. I like how they've decided that if the Choglaem kills with its tail, the tail should have something at the end rather than just... you know. A tail. That tracks. "The tail ends in a fist", specifically, however, was not something I saw coming. The crest looking like an emo hairstyle is funny, I think, and the angry elephant is great. The expression on the Choglaem's face is suspect to me; it looks like it's having too much fun with this. The linked post above includes an early draft, and itself links to a post with a detailed account of the artist's thought process and some additional sketches.
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@miapcain (link to post here) has... wait, hold on, look at that border. That's gorgeous. Had to acknowledge that before moving to the inside of the frame. Anyway, Mia has given her Choglaem legs, which might seem odd for something described as a "snake", but actually isn't out of the ordinary for a medieval bestiary -- the authors tended to play a bit more fast and loose with their categorization of animals than we do today, and there are indeed examples of animals with legs being called "serpents" or "snakes". (I assume the artist knows this, I just want to share that with the rest of the audience.) Anyway, the drawing style is great; I like the stylized landscape and the muted colors. That elephant is definitely modeled after a medieval elephant -- I swear I've seen it before -- but I couldn't tell you which one offhand. Anyway. Love the vibes here. Not sure why the tongue is a vine, but it's a cool design feature.
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@rautavaara (link to post here) has gone an entirely different direction with this one, and I can kind of see the steps. Snakelike creature, kills with its tail... what if the tail it kills with is a snake. As a result, we have this chimeric "bovid-lion-snake beast", as the artist describes. It definitely stands out from the crowd, and looks menacing as hell. Rautavaara continues with the cool frames and stylization, and I continue to appreciate them. Kind of an art-deco feel on this one.
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@karthara (link to post here) gives us a big snake with a somewhat aquatic-looking fin-crest, grappling with an elephant in a very believable manner. That is a quality depiction of a snake fighting an elephant, no mistake. And like I said before, a kind of aquatic look feels right for something this big. The linked post contains a short description of the design decisions.
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@gradling (link to post here) apparently also had the thought of "if it kills with its tail there should be something dangerous on the tail", and made the excellent decision to give the Choglaem a thagomizer. That's amazing and I love it. The crest also looks quite good. I don't have anything else to add here. Thagomizer. Brilliant.
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@moustawott (link to post here) has done this very cool, kind of celestial-looking Choglaem. I like that its pose is evoking an infinity symbol. And, of course, it is in its natural habitat:
the skies
A brief explanation of design choices can be found in the post linked above.
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@treesurface (link to post here) has managed to really evoke the size of this thing even though it's the only thing on the page, which I think is quite good. Also, the brief discussion of their design choices in the post linked is pretty interesting, and honestly that's what I want to highlight for this piece, so go check that out.
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@scarlettbookworm (link to post here) has given us an elephant apparently in the moment when it realizes it's about to be attacked by a Choglaem. In order to allow their Choglaem to lurk despite its size, they've given it camo-pattern scales, which I think is clever. There's a pretty good explanation of their design choices in the linked post, which I think is worth reading.
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@cheapsweets (link to post here) apparently did this with a fountain pen, which I think is very cool. I like the oarfish-inspired crest, and the very menacing face, and the elephant being ambushed. However -- and I realize I've said this like three times in a row now -- you should check out the linked post to read the artist's explanation of their design decisions. They describe it pretty thoroughly and I think it's more worthwhile to read their account of what they've drawn than it is to read mine.
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@strixcattus (link to post here) posted this while I was typing this round-up, so this will be the last result from Normal Tumblr Search. They've given us another "there should be something dangerous on the end of its tail" interpretation and drawn their Choglaem with an ankylosaur-style club, which I think is excellent. As per usual, their post includes an amazingly detailed modern-naturalist-style description of the animal in question, which I always enjoy. It's exactly my jam. (That bit about where the largest Choglaem lives... is that a reference to something? It feels familiar.)
All right, I'm now looking through "#choglaem" on @findtags's search system, and it is a bit different, oddly. There are fewer results than in the regular Tumblr search -- only six of the above images show up -- but it also has one that doesn't show up on the normal search! Dammit tumblr.
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@hairycarrot ... whom Tumblr will not let me tag? what the hell? [edit: the tag works now that i’ve posted this, but the editor seemed to think this blog wasn’t real] um... (link to post here). Anyway, they've done this neat stylized thing that kind of looks like pastels? I don't know art, that's just what it looks like to me and I like it. I also enjoy the Choglaem being coiled up like a spring -- I know it's because it's a constrictor and showing it in coils is a good way to communicate that, but I still like the look. Very pleasant-looking depiction of an elephant being ambushed by a giant snake.
All right, time for the reveal. Here's the Aberdeen Bestiary drawing:
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Yep. That snake has legs and wings. So everyone who added limbs was in an appropriately medieval mindset. It doesn't seem to have a crest, though, and I don't see any blowholes. And it's attacking with its bite more than with its tail. Honestly, I think y'all read the entry much more closely than this artist did.
But maybe they were also working with more preconceptions.
Because you see.
This is the entry for the Dragon.
Yeah, that's not what I was expecting from a bestiary description of a dragon either.
The interesting thing about it to me is that it's absolutely not what you generally see in fictional depictions of dragons in medieval literature. The bestiary entry is very firm on the idea that it's not venomous, it's a constrictor, it kills with its tail -- and most medieval dragons I've read about are highly venomous. Some of them aren't even that large; they're dangerous for their venom rather than their size. So maybe this is a bit of medieval mythbusting -- "no, guys, real dragons actually don't have venom at all".
And yes, this means there's historical precedent for the green & black dragons in D&D; dragons being so venomous they spit, breathe, or blow out poison instead of having to inject it with a bite is a pretty common motif in medieval dragon stories. I think a lot of people think of those as just variants on the classic fire-breathing version depicted by the red dragon, but actually there aren't that many fire-breathing dragons in medieval stories as far as I remember. (I would do some research on this, but I wanted to have this posted like two hours ago, so you're just getting what I remember off the top of my head instead of proper sources, sorry.) To my understanding, the classic fantasy dragon breathes fire because Smaug breathed fire. And Smaug breathed fire because the dragon in Beowulf breathed fire. But the Beowulf dragon isn't actually representative in that regard; the venom-spitting dragon is more common as far as I've seen. (No word on lightning or cold, sorry blue and white dragons.)
Anyway, there's probably room to reintroduce the constrictor dragon that kills with its tail. What colors haven't already been used up in the various monster manuals, splatbooks, &c.?
I'm rambling. End of post.
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getting to know mutuals!
Thank you to the wonderful @marley-manson and @emthought for the tags! 🖤🖤
what's the origin of your blog title?
A disclaimer... You never really know what you're gonna get with me.
otp(s) + shipname(s):
Houlihawk- Mash, JoshDonna - TWW, Larrian- The Gilded Age, WInnix -BoB, Sledgefu AND SidSledge-TP I feel all my ships are basic ahahah...
favorite color:
Purples, blues and black.
song stuck in your head:
Not really in my head, but I'm currently listening to Mistaken for Strangers by The National. So so good.
weirdest habit/trait:
This is the first one that came to mind, but despite raging adhd, I cannot have multiple internet tabs open AND every time I use the internet I clear my history and cache. I'm not looking up anything nefarious of course, but I think it stems from learning all those years ago how advertsiers track you and I refusue...My school profile is the exception for research and whatnot. Just a weird habit I got into...
hobbies:
Writing, photography, editing, art/drawing, being really insane about history, movies, and tv shows.
if you work, what's your profession?
Currently a student, but before that I worked film festivals.
if you could have any job you wish, what would it be?
The desires are endless, but astronaut If we really want to go out there. Also Presidential speechwriter.
something you're good at:
Creative projects I suppose? Working under pressure and in chaos??
something you hate:
How long do we have? Right now, hypocrisy and ignorance through a good portion of the US population.
something you collect:
For the past several years I've started to collect postcards, whether I go myself, or someone brings them back. I have a huge stack of them.
something you forget:
It's usually things I've just had in my hand just seconds prior.
what's your love language:
I honestly have no idea. I like to do things for people?
favorite movie/show:
The Best Years of Our Lives, You've Got Mail, Star Wars, Twilight: New Moon, The Martian, His Girl Friday, The Philadelphia Story. I could keep going on and on hahah...
favorite food:
Any kind of potatoes, pasta, or stew. Carbs to be honest ahaha. If we're talking dessert, brownies hands down.
favorite animal:
Lions or any cats for that matter. I used to go crazy for dolphins back in the day.
what were you like as a child:
Stubborn, oppositional, kinda depressed, hyperactive. Really too aware and opinionated of the world around me lmaooo.
favorite subject at school:
If we're talking high school, history, art, and theatre. If we are talking college, Intelligence Analysis, Space Policy, and again history. I've also absolutely loved my recent Magazine Writing class for my minor.
least favorite subject:
Math all around. I really wish I was better...
what's your best character trait?
People have told me I'm very rational and level headed. I also really try to be kind and empathetic to everyone.
what's your worst character trait?
Indecision and procrastination. There's more but *right now* it's the most annoying,
if you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be?
To have my own place. I love my parents and I'm very grateful, but there is a tax...
if you could travel in time, who would you like to meet?
Cary Grant and William 'Wild Bill' Donovan. There's a long list tbh...
Tagging if you want to join in! @pissbaby-jones @lamialamia @mstiemountainhop @resting-distressed-face @onekisstotakewithme @noneedtoamputate @atomicradiogirl @thosemessyvibes @eightysix-baby @blood-mocha-latte
Anyone else! I want to tag everyone!!!
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cecilysass · 1 year ago
Text
Shine On (4/16)
Read on AO3 | Tagging @today-in-fic
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Chapter 4: The Art of Profiling
Farrs Corner, Virginia February 20, 2015
The pizza that Fox Mulder ordered isn’t from a pizza place Jackson has ever heard of, like Domino’s or Pizza Hut, but it’s really good anyway. Or at least it tastes good to someone who hasn’t eaten all day. Jackson eats the first piece really quickly, then he grabs for a second without thinking, forgetting his manners. When he realizes what he’s done, he hesitates.
“Go for it,” the older man says, his eyes darting sharply back and forth between the pizza and Jackson’s face. “Eat as much as you want.”
Fox Mulder has been acting much more intense ever since Jackson told him about the red-headed lady.
Jackson’s tired, and he has only barely skimmed the surface of the man’s difficult mind, but he can tell that the guy’s stunned by the news. Fox Mulder’s mind is channeling down a dozen different paths right now: fast, mazelike thoughts, like bobsleds going down tracks. A current of sharp worry running through like a winter chill.
It’s honestly exhausting to try to figure out. Jackson closes off the shine for now, takes another big bite of pizza. This sausage is a little spicy, which is exactly how he likes it.
“I have a lot of questions for you,” Fox Mulder says, his voice low. “I don’t want to overwhelm you. But I … gotta ask some of them.”
Jackson nods reluctantly, his mouth full. He doesn’t feel like answering questions at all. Still, he supposes the more he gets out of the way, the better.
“You said you have visions,” the man says, setting his own piece of pizza down. “Do you have other … abilities?”
Jackson studies him cautiously as he finishes chewing his bite of pizza. He’s not in the habit of discussing what he can do. It’s only really ever been trouble when he has, so he’s almost instinctively secretive about it. But things are different now. And Fox Mulder, well, he seems to know all about this kind of thing.
“Yeah,” Jackson says carefully. “I do.”
The man runs his hand over his mouth. Jackson notices he’s only eaten half of his slice of pizza. Either he’s not hungry, or he’s too distracted.
“You can read thoughts,” Fox Mulder guesses, leaning back, speaking with certainty. He folds his hands in front of him. “You can focus on other people’s thoughts. Not just one person, but several at once.”
Jackson sets his slice of pizza down in shock. “How did you know that?”
“You can move objects, too.”
Jackson blinks at him. “I have been able to do that. Some. I could do it easier when I was little.”
“What else?”
“I can, like, change people’s perceptions. What they see. Not for forever, just for a little while. So, if I, like, need a distraction in class or something, I can make the teacher think someone opened the door and mooned us. Stupid stuff like that.”
Fox Mulder looks undeniably fascinated. “Wow,” he says. “Interesting.” He taps his fingers on the table. Jackson doesn’t have to use his shine to see that the man is thinking this over. “So does that mean you could effectively shapeshift? If you wanted to?”
“Yeah,” admits Jackson. “At least I can make other people think I look like someone else.”
“Huh,” the man says, squinting thoughtfully. He tilts his head, looking at Jackson again. “Are you reading my mind right now?”
“No,” Jackson says honestly.
“Why not?”
“I’m tired,” Jackson says. “It’s work, sometimes. And no offense, but you’re kind of complicated and hard.”
Fox Mulder chuckles. “I don’t know if I should take offense at that or not.”
“I did read your mind earlier,” Jackson confesses. “And the red-haired lady …. she was really easy. I hardly had to try with her at all. It was like her thoughts just flew at me. I was wondering if that was because she was my birth mom. Do you think that could be right?”
The man stares at him blankly, not directly answering. “Her name is Dana Scully.”
“Dana Scully,” repeats Jackson.
“Have you ever heard that name before?”
“No,” Jackson says. “I don’t think so.”
“Did your parents tell you anything about your birth parents? Who they were, where you were from?”
“I don’t think they knew anything about them,” Jackson says. “It was a closed adoption.”
Fox Mulder nods, scratching his chin. “Yeah,” he says. It’s like a cloud of sadness has fallen over him. “Yeah, it would have been.” He fixes Jackson with a curious look. “Do you … have any questions for me? About any of this?”
“Uh. Sure.” Jackson looks around the room, slowly, as if the best question to ask might be scrawled on the walls. The faces peering out of the framed photos draw his attention again, but it’s all so much. He looks away, back at the box of pizza in front of them instead. “Is it… okay if I have another slice, Mr. Mulder?”
The man laughs a little, crossing his arms. “You can just call me Mulder.”
“I think I’m eating more than you, Mulder,” Jackson points out seriously. “It doesn’t seem fair. It’s your pizza.”
“I told you, eat as much as you want.”
Jackson feels like he has been polite enough. He shrugs. “Thanks,” Jackson says, taking another slice.
“Jackson,” Mulder says, watching him eat, his voice suddenly too casual. “Do you have any idea who your birth father is?”
Jackson picks up his piece of pizza and studies it, pulling off a particularly delicious-looking piece of sausage and sampling it. “Well,” he says, through a mouthful, “I’ve got a guess. Based on certain clues. But I don’t know for sure.”
“Clues you’ve read in people’s minds? Or clues you’ve noticed?”
Jackson shrugs again. “Both, I guess.” He gives Mulder a look, raising his eyebrows.
There’s a pause.
“What clues?”
“Well, I’m not stupid,” Jackson says matter-of-factly. “That woman, Dana Scully, was here, fighting with you. Lots of big feelings. Then, the way you’re acting now. Like you think I’m a brand new iPhone and you can’t stop looking at me. And how you seem to know things about me. That’s a bunch of clues.”
Mulder has been sitting with his arms crossed, and he hasn’t moved the entire time Jackson’s been talking. But now Jackson can see a tear sprouting in his eye. It surprises him. Wayne Van De Kamp, his father, would never have cried in front of him. Mulder blots it with his sleeve, and Jackson sees his hands are shaking, too.
Maybe he shouldn’t have said that so carelessly, kind of flippantly. It’s obviously a big deal to Mulder. Really, truthfully, it’s a big deal to Jackson, too—something he’s wondered about his whole life. But right now he just can’t have everything feel like a big deal all at once. Or he’ll explode or something.
He meets the man’s damp eyes.
“Yeah,” Mulder says roughly, trying to smile. “Okay. A lot of clues.” He pauses, uncrosses his arms, places his hands on the table. “I get the sense you can’t handle a lot more emotional drama right now, Jackson, and I get that, I really do. Believe it or not, I’ve been in that place myself.”
Jackson’s speechless. It’s like the man read his mind, but that’s not possible.
“I just want to say, we can talk about it whenever you want to,” Mulder adds. “No pressure.”
Jackson nods his head up and down, licking his lips nervously.
***
After dinner, they go back into the part of the room with the couch, which is surrounded by all the messy piles of books. Jackson sits on the floor and starts picking up volumes curiously. “The Art of Profiling?” he says. “Is that an art book?”
“No,” Mulder says with a smile, trying to kick piles out of the way. “It’s psychological profiling. Like for criminals.”
“Oh,” Jackson says, making a connection. “Like on Criminal Minds.”
“What’s that? A TV show?”
“Yeah,” Jackson says. “My parents love it. It’s about a team of FBI agents who profile dangerous criminals.” An exciting thought occurs to him. “Wait, is that what you did?”
“Yes,” Mulder says. “No. Kind of. I was a profiler, years and years ago. But then I was put on the X-files, where I investigated cases that had unexplainable, supernatural associations.”
“That’s why you have books like this,” Jackson says. He lifts the book Sasquatch: Diverse Perspectives. “Or this?” Extraterrestrial Abductions Beyond the Media.
“Yeah,” Mulder says, a self-deprecating shrug. “That’s right.”
“That’s badass,” Jackson says, a root of an idea occurring to him. He belatedly realizes his mistake. “I mean, that’s cool. Very cool,” he corrects himself.
“It was badass,” Mulder agrees, seemingly unaffected by Jackson’s profanity. “Although… it could be difficult. We went through a lot, working on the X-files. Scully and me.”
Jackson absorbs this information. “So you and Dana Scully worked together on the X-files. In the F.B.I.. That’s how you knew one another?”
“We were partners,” Mulder says with quiet precision, like this sentence is very important.
They’re just three words—we were partners—but Jackson can tell they tell an entire complicated story the length of a book or more. His shine cries out to be used, but Jackson pushes it aside.
“Mulder,” Jackson says slowly. “Is it a coincidence that you and my birth mom worked on these X-files … and that I have these abilities?”
“No, Jackson,” Mulder says, sighing heavily. “It’s probably not a coincidence.” He sits on the couch, looking down at Jackson still sitting on the floor. “There are things that both of us were exposed to that could have … caused the abilities.”
“But you guys don’t have them yourselves, right?”
“No. Not like you.”
It’s a frustrating answer. “Not like me? Or not at all?”
“Some things I want to wait to talk to you about,” Mulder replies. “Until we’ve had a chance to talk to your mother, too.”
Your mother.
Jackson inhales sharply, the words sending an unexpected shock through him.
“I meant Scully, of course,” Mulder says quickly, noticing his reaction. “I’m sorry.”
“Dana Scully isn’t my mother,” Jackson says with emphasis. “I have a mother.”
“I know.” Mulder’s eyes look impossibly sad. “I’m sorry, Jackson. I know.”
“I’m not looking to replace my parents,” Jackson says tightly. “That’s not why I’m here or what this is about. They’ll always be my parents. I love them.”
Mulder appears to sink further into the couch. “Yeah,” he says. “I can tell you do.”
Jackson looks down quickly at the stack of books again, playing silently with the cover of Criminology Through The Ages. He knows he shouldn’t have gotten angry. He knows Mulder didn’t mean anything by it, and he’s having to struggle with his shine now to keep from sensing any bad feelings or thoughts coming off of Mulder.
It’s just Jackson feels almost disloyal, sitting here talking to this man, learning this information about his birth parents’ lives, when his parents just died. When they probably died because of him.
“Jackson.” Mulder’s voice is kind. “What were they like? Your parents. Do you want to … tell me about them? I don’t know anything about them.”
Jackson pauses, still staring at the book in his hand. “Yeah,” he says. He tries to find the right words. He has to be the person who remembers them, who speaks for them to the world now. “They were … they weren’t anything like me. But they were great.”
Mulder waits patiently, his soft eyes on Jackson. Jackson puts the book back carefully on top of a pile.
“My dad was the shop teacher at Rawlins High School. He was good at woodworking, cabinetry. He was always trying to teach me.”
“Were you good at it, too?”
“No,” Jackson says with a tiny smile. “I was really, really bad at it.”
“Oh yeah?” Mulder echoes the tiny smile.
“I couldn’t cut straight. I forgot to measure,” Jackson says, shaking his head. “I was always disappointing him.”
“Not really,” Mulder guesses softly.
“No,” Jackson agrees, just as softly. “Not really.” He’s quiet, thinking more about his goofy, sweater-vested dad. “He was always cheerful. He thought you should look on the positive side of things, you know? Really into baseball. He coached my Little League team for a while.”
“That’s good,” Mulder says encouragingly. “It’s good to play sports.” He’s quiet, too. “And your mom?”
“Her job was running the church preschool,” Jackson says. “She was always singing. She loved holiday decorations, and to cook and bake.” He feels tears threatening. “She is just … she was a really good mom to me. Like, she hugged me all the time. I acted like I didn’t like it, but I did.”
“I’m glad she did that,” Mulder whispers. “I’m so glad.”
“She was really Christian. Really into church. They both were.”
“You were raised religious?”
“Yeah,” Jackson says. “Lutheran.” He glances at Mulder wryly. “But I was really bad at that, too.”
Mulder returns the look. “I’m not very good at that myself,” he says. “Scully’s religious, in her own way. But I’ve never been … that kind of believer. It’s just never made sense to me”
Something warm blooms in Jackson at being understood in this way. It’s never made sense to him, either.
“What are you good at?” Mulder asks. His tone is gentle, but Jackson’s shine is suddenly alert, suddenly aware of what’s underneath the man’s exterior. Mulder is hungry to know more about him, desperate for any detail. His need is so overwhelming, Jackson closes the door on it quickly.
“I don’t know,” Jackson says casually. “I’m good at math, I guess. Math comes easy to me.”
Mulder’s face lights up. “Scully’s amazing at math.” Looking over at Jackson, he seems to regret his words. His scolding to himself shines through. —stop making everything he says about me and Scully. “Sorry. You’re telling me about yourself.”
“I like to run,” Jackson continues. “I’m pretty fast, and I think I’m a good distance runner. I was thinking maybe I’d try out for the track team in high school.” He pauses. “But I guess I’m not going to high school now.”
“Come on,” Mulder says. “Of course you’re going to high school. Your life isn’t over.”
“I’m most likely going to prison,” Jackson mumbles darkly.
“Nah. Not going to happen.”
“I don’t even know where I’m going to live,” Jackson adds. “Where I’m going to stay tonight.”
“You’re obviously going to stay here tonight,” Mulder insists. “After that, we’ll figure it out.”
The lightning-fast image of a school building with a sign— Farrs Corner High School—and then another fast image, the two of them, Mulder and Jackson, running side by side on a country road, a road that looks a lot like the road right outside the farmhouse. Then almost instantly, more scolding in Mulder’s mind: Way ahead of yourself. Stop it. Haven’t even told Scully. Need to confirm.
“How will we confirm?” Jackson asks quickly. “What does that mean?”
Mulder’s eyebrows shoot up. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”
“Sorry,” Jackson says. “That was kind of rude of me, probably.”
“I have to remind myself you’re listening,” Mulder says with a small smile.
“I normally try to hide it more,” Jackson says. He stands up, stepping around the books to sit next to Mulder on the couch. “But I mean … what’s the point if you already know, right?”
“I was just thinking that before we introduce you to Scully, we should run DNA,” Mulder says. “Yours against mine. To confirm it.”
“Why?” Jackson says, frowning. “You don’t believe me?”
“Can’t you tell that I believe you?”
Jackson sighs. “Yeah, I think you do.” He kicks out his long legs and leans his head back against the back of the couch. “But like I said, you’re not the easiest.”
“The people that Scully and I used to be involved with,” Mulder says, “were the kind of people who would go to extremes. Even extremes like convincing a kid his birth mother was someone she wasn’t. Like planting ideas into people’s heads. I don’t think you’re lying, but I think it would be smart to know for sure.”
Jackson swings his head to look at Mulder. “Who were these people?”
Mulder regards him with a troubled expression. “I’ll answer that, Jackson. But I think you need to answer this, too: who drove you here? To Virginia?”
“I told you,” Jackson says, folding his arms defensively, “I can’t tell you that.”
“Why?” Mulder’s eyebrows draw together in concern. “It worries me a little. Did the person who drove you ask you not to tell me?”
“Yeah, they did,” Jackson admits. “But I don’t think they’re one of these bad people you’re talking about. They were just trying to help me.”
“But Jackson,” Mulder says urgently, “you need to understand that—”
“You’re just going to have to trust me,” Jackson insists, and his voice sounds younger than he intends. “Please. Just trust me.”
Mulder rubs his temple with one finger. “Okay,” he says simply. “I can do trust.” He leans forward on his forearms. “But still, Jackson, I think we gotta do the DNA test. If you’re not … the person we think you are—and who Scully thinks you are, it would be too hard for her.”
“She’s been wanting to see me that bad?”
Mulder is surprised. “Of course she has. Of course.”
“But it was a closed adoption. Her choice.”
Mulder opens and closes his mouth, again seeming not to know what to say. “Since the second she let you go,” he says, his voice strained, “she’s been wanting to see you again.”
Jackson’s shine pulls in an image then of a baby in a crib, crying, and then the woman Mulder calls Scully, younger, crying and crying, inconsolable.
It’s all too sad, and Jackson is sad already.
“Okay. DNA test tomorrow then,” Jackson says, shrugging. “No big deal.”
“Great,” Mulder says, standing up. “Now I thought I’d show you where you’ll be sleeping if you want. I’ll have to put sheets on the guest bed first. Maybe you can help me. This place used to be a little more organized when Scully lived here.”
“You have a guest room, huh?” Jackson says. “Fancy.”
“Yeah,” Mulder says in a strange voice. “It’s just an extra bedroom. Small. Not too fancy.”
It was supposed to be your room. In case we got you back somehow. Mulder’s thoughts are suddenly and unexpectedly clear.
“Then I guess I better sleep in it,” Jackson responds flatly, following along behind him.
***
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