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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

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Consciousness Of Guilt

Chapter 1

Summary: It’s a year since Ransom was murdered, and you’re settling well into your new life in Boulder. It hasn’t just provided you with a fresh start-it’s brought you a new sense and purpose, an appreciation for the things you took fore grated, and the friendship of a former ADA…

Warnings: Bad Language, allusions to past abuse (Non Con/Dub Con) but nothing explicitly described in this chapter.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader and any other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

W/C: 5k

Consciousness Of Guilt Masterlist // Main Masterlist

A/N- So, here it is! The sequel to Murder, He Wrote . This is the last time I’ll post this note, however, please be aware that the prequel is a Dark series. Whilst this is not, it will contain flashbacks and themes as we progress, however nothing will be as dark as MHW. Chapters will be clearly labelled with appropriate warnings. If anyone is uncomfortable with the themes of a certain chapter, I will be more than happy to post/provide abridged versions which will not deviate from the storyline.

Sunrise. You used to hate the coming of each day. It meant another monotonous day in your young adult life. A 'depends on the day' type of job at the paper in which you got your start, it meant earning little for the slave work you put into each piece or research. It meant another day you'd woken up in fear, not knowing what was coming next. Then, for a little while, sunrises were okay. They were a soft glow across the room, illuminating hard lines and soft curves, whispering words and lingering kisses. And then, they became fearful again, bringing the unpredictable nature of a life in which you were trapped.

But now, over the last few months, since taking up your new hobby, sunrise had become a beautiful thing. The feeling of peace and comfort washing over you like a warm rain, bringing the redeeming nature of a new day as vibrant watercolours paint the new-born sky. Whether you caught it from the East side of your condo; your master balcony and study or your garden, or even your hikes, you appreciated every, single sunrise as if you were seeing it for the first time ever, each and every day.

For this morning's sunrise, you were perched along Boulder Creek Path, a trail that runs from the foothills to across town, a typical recreational getaway for many locals and tourists. You looked out over the bridge as the creek flowed beneath your feet. You were lost in the serenity of it, the bubbling water lulling your mind into a deep mediation that washed peacefulness through your entire body.

A year ago today, your life changed and you were freed. Free of the nightmare that had plagued you, robbing you of nearly a year of your life. The months that followed weren't so easy, but once things settled and the fires were extinguished, you found peace.

You found you.

Your phone buzzing in your pocket brought you back from your reverie, pressing your thumb onto the screen to unlock it. You opened your messages tab and tapped the most recent incoming text.

A smile flicked on your face as you slipped your phone back in your pocket. It didn’t escape your knowledge how Andy didn’t need to even ask what coffee you wanted. But then again, this wasn’t the first time you’d had breakfast in the small, independent coffee place not far from your home and place of work. You knew when you arrived that a large caramel vanilla latte, with an extra shot would be waiting. But no food, your order varied depending on your mood.

Twenty minutes or so later, you parked your sting-grey Jeep Grand Cherokee SRT 4x4 back in your garage to your condo at the corner of 9th and Pine Street and set off on the short ten minute walk to your designated meeting place, centred near the town square, not far from your office which was a gorgeous old red-brick building on the corner of 16th and Walnut Street.

As you approached, you didn’t spot Andy’s black Audi TT in any of the spaces littered around but it didn’t bother you. Barber was reliable, if he said he was going to be there, he’d be there.

And sure enough, as you walked along the side of the cafe you, spotted him at your usual, preferred table by the large window, overlooking the street. He saw you approaching and smiled, giving a small wave.

The smell of roast coffee beans, baked treats and other delicious aromas hit your senses as you opened the door. You approached the table and Andy stood up to great you, smiling. A light grey tee sat exposed under a partially zipped up light weight blue leathered hoodie whilst dark and crisp denim covered his narrow hips and long legs, his go to well-worn black work boots on his feet. His hair was styled and soft looking, his beard always trimmed and neat. He gave you a strong, yet gentle hug, a juxtaposition he managed effortlessly before he turned and waited for you to sit first before he took up his previous seat, nodding to your waiting drink.

“Thank you.” You beamed at him, taking a quick sip. "Of course." He smiled as he took a drink of his own coffee, straight black, before he leaned back a little. His left arm rested over the back of the booth bench, the platinum of his wedding ring catching the early morning sun which streamed through the window. You momentarily glanced at your own hand, bare of the heavy rings which had been taken in the ‘mugging’. Mind you, you wouldn’t be wearing them even if you still had them. Your story was a lot different to his.

“So, where'd you go this morning?" his soft baritone drifted across the table and you glanced back at him. "Fiddled around down Boulder Creek Path." "You seem to be getting around better now." "Yeah, thank God for GPS. Did I tell you that last week I was looking for some store Amber vaguely told me where about it was and ending up like thirty minutes down the highway towards Denver." He laughed, his whole body smiling, radiating genuine amusement. "You have more faith in GPS than me, when I first moved here I got pulled over for going the wrong way down a one way street because it told me to.” You grinned as he shook his head. "And that annoying voice! I want to wring her damn neck." You gave a chuckle but before you could reply, the middle-aged woman, who owned the café, interrupted you both with her usual familiar greeting and the smile she reserved for Andy. “Hey Patti, how are ya?” He smiled back. “Same old, same old.” She winked back. “What can I get you kids today?” “Y/N?” Andy looked at you and you smiled. “Can I get an almond croissant and a granola pot, please? With the blueberry compote.” “Sure honey, and for you Mr Barber?”

“French toast please, all the trimmings.”

A fizzing filled your ears as you were suddenly back on a clinically clean, modern kitchen, nervously scouring a fridge and cupboards for something to make your captor breakfast with. You swallowed, taking a deep breath, counting backwards from five as you always did to keep the memory from swallowing you.

“Hey,” a gentle touch to your hand jolted you back and you looked at Andy who frowned. “You okay?” "Yeah, no, I mean yes, I'm okay. It just…it dawned me this morning that this was the best thing I could have done for myself. Like there's just a newfound peace that's settled with me, you know?" He just smiled as he squeezed your hand before slipping his away. “Yeah, I do.” No more was said about it, and Andy didn’t press. He never did. In the eight weeks or so that had passed since you’d met him that Friday evening in the bar, the pair of you had struck up a friendship that was based on a mutual understanding. You both carried a heavy burden of a traumatic past on your shoulders, but you had an unspoken rule. He had never mentioned Ransom. And you, in turn, never broached the subject of Laurie or Jacob. You understood you were both moving on with your life, both wanting to heal from the past and you wanted to spend the rest of your life never in fear again. Instead, a simple chatter always flowed between the two of you, and today was no exception. You barely stopped to thank Patti for dropping your order off at the table. Current work was never a topic of conversation, although office gossip featured on occasion, but mostly it was always about happenings around town, him asking about you, your parents and your old job, the two of you talking about your favourite places in Boston. You never missed certain facial and eye cues Andy gave off at the mention of certain things, but when you saw them, that sag in his smile or the far off look his eyes would give, you'd change the subject. You ate in comfortable companionship and after another coffee, Andy asked for the bill and then pulled out his card to pay. "Next one is on me, you paid for the last two and coffee all this week." You gave him a stern look as you headed towards the exit. “Well, if you wanted you could grab us a beer later.” He shrugged, pulling the door handle to open it, allowing you to step out before him. “I gotta nip into the office for a coupla hours but...” "Breakfast AND drinks?" You smiled as he fell into step beside you. The July day was starting to warm a little now, the slight chill of the early morning all but gone. “If I didn't know any better, I'd say you actually like hanging out with me." “Well, I wouldn’t go that far. I just find you slightly less irritating than everything and everyone else.” He teased and you laughed. “So... Happy hour?" "Yeah." You nodded “It's a date." Andy confirmed and you quirked your eyebrow, trying not to laugh at the look on his face as he realised what he had said. “A date?” “Well, I don’t mean a date date but...” You felt the heat in your neck a little, so to save your embarrassment and his blushes, you smiled, "it's a date-not-date. Say Oskar’s, 6:30?" "Oskar’s." He confirmed. "I'll save you a tall, cold one." “You’re an angel, you know that?” "I wouldn't go that far. My halo is held up by horns” “Even Prometheus was an angel at some point, Y/N.” He replied as you reached the corner of the street where you would part. Him towards the office, you back home. You rolled your eyes and shook your head. "I'll see you tonight." At that he gave you another quick hug, his hand rubbing your back over the top of your light jacket before you headed your separate ways.

You enjoyed the walk home. It gave you the perfect chance to just mellow out and walk off a bit of your breakfast. You tucked your hands into the pockets for your vest, your white thermal keeping your arms covered. You headed down Pearl Street, watching as the little shops and boutiques began to set up their patios and side walk spaces for their Saturday. You took in the clean fresh mountain air deep into your lungs and allowed a warm smile to cross your lips.

From Pearl to 9th you went, hooking a right up 9th until you walked to the corner of Pine, and onto the porch of the nice and spacious condo you closed escrow on just weeks ago.

That deep feeling of home greeted you as you stepped inside, wiping your boots on your door mat just before kicking them off and setting them by the back door you’d come through. The cream walls invited you in, the oak furniture and fixtures, a feature that reminded you of home, the decor you grew up with, a safe place.

You'd bought the condo outright with the money you'd inherited from Ransom's untimely death and subsequent estate. You knew before you'd even stepped foot into the property initially, that it'd become yours. The week you closed escrow, you and your parents moved you into the three bedroom, three and a half bath condo, never looking back.

The open floor plan and panoramic views had stolen your breath and it was then, the first night your parents had left you alone, too anxious to sleep alone, you had fallen in love with the sunrise, seeing it from your front garden patio, bundled up with tea and a wool blanket. All three rooms in the space had no adjoining walls and their own en-suites. The master bedroom, your room, was massive. An en-suite with walk in shower, soaking tub and Jack and Jill sinks. Two walk in closets that you knew you'd probably never fill completely, an Eastwardly view and balcony. The two spare rooms, were separated, one on the second floor down the hall from yours where it's balcony looked West, as it were above the garage and the third on the top and final floor with its own balcony. That was your office space, a spot for you to work and to breathe in the fresh air.

Everything in that condo was yours, down to the logs you'd put in your fireplace and the silly little amenities you'd given yourself from knickknacks to the colour of your dishes. There was one space however you left untouched. And only your parents had been inside to pack away your unused things as storage space. That room was your basement. You didn't need to go down there, you figured if you needed something from there, you'd go buy it anyway. All that was truly stored down there anyway were things from your childhood your mother insisted on you bringing along.

As if her ears were burning, your phone buzzed from your back pocket, revealing your mother calling.

"Hey, Mom." You answered.

"Hi, honey. I was just calling to see how you were doing. Check in on you." You could hear the worry in her voice and you couldn't help but smile.

"I'm really good, Mom. It’s been good here." "You still hiking every day?" She sounded hopeful now. "Lately it's just been on the weekends. I've been really busy at work, which isn't exactly a bad thing either." You had made your way to your room, looking for some lounge pants to change into while you continued your conversation. "Well, busy is a blessing. Do you have anything planned for today or...." "Uh, well I just had breakfast with a friend from work who I'm also meeting for drinks later." You smirked at the thought. There was a joyful sigh that poured into your ear from the ear piece, "Oh, this friend wouldn’t happen to be the mysterious Andy you’ve name dropped the last few calls would it?" You hesitated, "y..ye...yeah." Then you heard the tell-tale sound of your mother's chuckle. “We’re just friends.” "I'm not saying anything." You could picture her with her hands held up in defence. "You sound happy." “I am. I feel okay, more than okay even. I’m good.” "Alright. Well, don’t waste your day. Enjoy it. Your dad and I will talk soon." “Yeah, listen Mom, why don’t you come over for a few days in a couple of weeks? You’ve not been since the week you came to help me move in. It would be nice to show you round now I’ve got my bearings.” "We would love that. I'll have your father look at booking some time." “Okay just let me know. Tell Daddy I said hi.” "I will, sweetie. Love you, bye.” "I love you too, Mom, bye." The seventeenth of July, a date that you hope one day will come to mean nothing and be like any other day. But for now, it was a sting that reminded you of all that had happened. Not unlike Halloween, a day in which you'll forever hold in a fearful anxious place in your soul. It served as a reminder of the moment your life had taken a very dark turn, a darkness that you were still, in a lot of ways, finding your way through. Ransom. His name still tasted sour on your tongue. But left a sadness over your heart like a sheer curtain. You had truly hoped he wasn't going to revert back to the beast that held you captive. But you were wrong, and post the revelation of the real reason he had taken you, he’d been far more brutal and cruel than he had with you before, something you’d thought was impossible. And he’d broken you for a second time, or so you’d let him think. Desperate to escape his clutches, you’d done the only thing you could- you’d killed him. Whilst you may not have held the knife, you’d arranged it all. And, even though it had been an absolute last resort, you’d be lying if you said there hadn’t been a satisfaction to watching him bleed out and choke on his own blood. The realisation that had clouded his arrogantly handsome features as he came to understand it was your doing would be forever etched into your brain. That said, it made you feel a little bit queasy when you thought about how taking someone’s life could make you feel a sick sense of pleasure. The nightmares had plagued you for months after. The torture which sleep brought you only ceased around the time things were settled within the system between you and his parents. With a deep sigh and the need for distraction, you set about some spot cleaning in between loads of laundry and by early afternoon you had settled in on your couch with a beer and your latest box set binge. Not two episodes in and your phone pinged next to you.

With a smirk, you snapped a photo of your beer bottle in your hand and a few moments later his response came through.

The angel made you laugh, a direct reference to his teasing before. But before you could reply, you got another text with simply saying “fuck it” along with a picture of a tumblr of whiskey on his desk. With a snort you replied

With a smile you tossed your phone down onto the seat beside you, and resumed your watching.

***** Andy was kidding when he playfully said he'd be there by 6:45, fully intending on their agreed upon 6:30. But, he was late. He'd been so involved with his brief that he'd lost track, and for the first time since meeting her, was late for a meet up with Y/N. She was fully understanding as he'd text her apologizing for the time as he'd rushed out of the office and quickly headed for Pearl Street. He'd gotten very lucky with close parking and literally stepped inside Oskar's Taproom promptly at 6:45. He found Y/N sitting at the bar, her hair down, a nicely fitted black tee and skinny denim jeans, her foot tapping against her bar stool in waiting. Next to her was an empty stool and a full, cold looking tall pilsner on the bar, saving his space.

"Hey," he said as he leaned into her, a gentle hand on her back, getting her attention.

Y/N startled a bit but realized it was Andy and grinned, "'bout time! I was going to get started on yours without you." She nodded to the cold beer. “I’m so sorry.” He shook his head, “I just got caught up.” "Well, you haven't stood me up yet, so I trusted you'd show." “And I did tell you 6:45 before. You know, on account of you being a cheeky little shit.” She rolled her eyes at him, "whatever." She smirked. He slid onto the stool next to her and took a long pull of his beer, damned it tasted good. He gave an appreciative sigh and turned to her. “So, do anything much this afternoon?” "I did absolutely nothing, well nothing of importance. Talked to my mom, did laundry, you know nothing exciting." “To be honest, sounds like a pretty good afternoon.” He chuckled. “Sometimes there’s nothing better than laying in front of the TV with no where you have to be.” "Cheers to that," she raised her glass to him. He clinked his with hers and returned the smile she had. The blues band that was set to play happy hour was starting to tune up and it gave Andy an idea. "What do you say we find a spot in the patio, little less noise." “Sounds good.” She nodded. Andy flagged the bartender down for another round to take with them. But before Y/N could pick up her glass, Andy took it for her and gestured with her head for her to go on in front. She looked a little surprised at his act of basic good manners, and not for the first time. He'd often seen her look at him in a similar way when he held doors open for her or helped her with her jacket. It made him wonder what kind of asshole Drysdale had been. But, then again, he got the impression it hadn’t been a particularly happy relationship to start. Not that it was any of his business, nor was he one to talk. The last seven months he’d been married to Laurie had been as strained as they'd ever got. They found a spot at a two top near the corner of the patio at the gate that separated it from the sidewalk. Andy waited for Y/N to sit before he set their glasses on the high top table and took his own seat. "So...much better," he leaned in across the table. "Love this place, but it's not always the best for conversation." “Yeah but it has a good atmosphere.” She smiled. “I like it. Not the type of place that-“ she stopped dead and took a deep breath. “Doesn’t matter.” He half smiled, "you know, I've been meaning to tell you, it's okay to talk to me about anything you want. No pressure, no strings. Just a friendly ear." She smiled. “I know, thanks. And the same goes for you too.” For the first time, an interesting silence came between them. They each sipped their drinks in an almost a mirrored like fashion and chuckled when through. "I think that's the first time we've ever not had something to say." Y/N shrugged. He nodded, and then she took a deep breath. “I was just gonna say its not the type of place Ransom would ever have taken me. He’d have thought it beneath him.” "I think that's the first time you've ever mentioned his name." He pointed out. "Yeah, I try not to. It's uh," he watched her as she struggled to start her story, playing nervously with the earring in her ear. "Complicated." He leaned on the table, his forearms crossed and supporting his weight. He wanted her to know she had his full attention. “Well, from what I know about him, which granted is only what I saw on the news or heard around Boston, he certainly enjoyed the finer things in life.” "That's one way of looking at." She chuckled dryly. "It wasn't an easy marriage, despite how short lived." "Well, I was with Laurie since law school and we still had our ups and downs. I don't think marriage is easy in general." Andy admitted. "I was with Ransom less than nine months before we got married. It, uh, lasted three weeks."

Andy paused, “okay, so granted Laurie and I were a whirlwind what with her falling pregnant so fast but... I’ll give you that one.” “A whirlwind?” She asked and Andy nodded. “Yeah, we hadn’t even been together a year when she got pregnant with Jake. Not gonna lie, I shit myself but...” he sighed, swallowing. “Well, he was worth it.” "I'm sure he was." She nodded. Andy cleared his throat. “He was a good kid, despite what he, well what he was accused of.” “I can’t even begin to imagine how that felt, for any of you.” She said gently. “Fucking shit.” He said bluntly. She blinked and then the pair of them laughed quietly. "I'm sorry, Andy. And I mean that in all sincerity." He sighed and gave a soft little smile. “Thanks. You know, for the most part it’s just happy memories. But then sometimes it’s hard...” he trailed off shaking his head, “but of course you’ll know that.” “Suppose so.” She shrugged. “I doubt our marriage was anything near as loving as yours. I, uh...well, Ransom was mentally abusive, very controlling. Getting married wasn't exactly what I'd wanted but, I felt trapped in a way." She paused as he listened intently. "I guess it's harder to explain than I thought." She bit her lip and then shook her head. “Then the asshole went and got himself killed.” "I hate that you had to witness that." She shrugged and her finger swiped at the condensation on the outside of her half empty beer glass. “It was a year ago today.” “Jesus fucking Christ.” Andy shook his head in shock as he took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry.” “I’m not.” She sighed. “And I know that probably sounds awful but... I don’t mourn him, I can’t. Not after everything. I’m just glad to be away and out of it. Fuck, that makes me sound like a really cold hearted bitch.” She scrunched her nose and chuckled a bit. Andy cocked his head to one side, studying her face which was, despite what she said, laced with sadness and he took a deep breath. There was more to her story than she was telling him, he could see that, but he had his own secrets too. And he found himself realising he didn’t care. Moving away post the accident that claimed Jake and later Laurie’s life had been a way for him to leave all that shit behind. And she was trying to do the same. “Okay, let’s make a deal.” He leaned forward. “No reverse gear. We look forward and not back, at least not at the hard stuff.” It took a moment for her to process it, and Andy watched her expression behind her eyes as he did so. Then she smiled, "deal." Andy smiled as she reached for her beer. He watched her pretty face as she drained her glass, setting it down in the table before she leaned towards him. “Have you eaten? Because I’ve suddenly got a hankering for something greasy and very bad for me.” “Sounds like someone I used to work with.” Andy shot before he could stop himself and Y/N threw her head back in a loud laugh. “Lawyers for you.” “Hey, not all of us are jerks.” He pouted and she shrugged. “Jury’s out.” She winked. At that Andy raised his brows, downed the rest of his pint and then stood up. “Something dirty and greasy that isn’t an attorney coming up, I’ll grab us a menu.” They each ordered a greasy, filthy cheeseburger with all the fixings and two smaller beers a piece to go with it. They moved their conversation away from their pasts and talked music as the band played some songs they were familiar with. Y/N finding the perfect moment to joke with Andy again about his age versus hers, despite it being maybe seven or eight years. Neither seemed to mind. Again, when the bill came, Andy slapped his card down before Y/N even had a chance to grab her wallet, which caused him to laugh loudly at her pout. “You’ll just have to get it next time.” “Oh," she smirked, "so that’s your game? You paid, so I owe you a next time?” He shrugged. “Would that be such a bad thing?” She bit her lip and grinned with a shake of her head. “No, not really.” “Good, I’ll hold you to that. And, as a lawyer I feel obliged to tell you that’s a legally recognised verbal contract.” “Uh, I’m sure there’s a rule that a social agreement made between friends is done so without an intention of being enforceable.” Y/N shot back and Andy felt his mouth curl up on a little surprised smirk. “Therefore no intent, no legal comeback. Your move, Counselor.” He laughed and shook his head. “Nope, I got nothing.” “In that case, I call recess.” She grinned. “Oh faahk off with the legal puns!” Andy snorted and once more she laughed as they stood up, their night at an end. He walked behind Y/N with a gentle hand on her back as she weaved through the tables on the patio, eventually ending up on the sidewalk out front.

"Thanks, for breakfast, dinner, drinks," Y/N shook her head, feigning annoyance. Andy smirked, "thanks for meeting me. You're not walking home are you?" "I can, it's not far." She replied, folding her arms over her chest.

"Absolutely not, I'll take you," he nodded his head in the direction in which his car was. He gave a small wink when she accepted his offer. He held the door open for you as you slid into the passenger seat of his Audi TT. You quickly realized that this was the first time you'd been in his car and the very first time he would see your doorstep. However, the thought of both those things didn't bother you one bit. In fact, you found yourself more comfortable than you'd expected.

All in all the drive was no more than five minutes, and if he hadn’t been going that way already, you’d have felt like a complete fraud, but he assured you it was on his way.

You helped yourself out but Andy waited for you around the front hood and walked you to your doorstep, lit by the lantern porch light your Home Owners Association contract insisted be up. "So, this is me," you sighed. Andy had his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans and he rocked a little on his heels as he waited for you to open your front door. When you'd opened it, he scratched behind his neck and said, "so I'll see you Monday?" "Yeah," you agreed. He turned to go but you called out to him, "Hey, Andy?" He quickly turned back to you, his one foot on your stoop, the other the next step down, "yeah?" In a sudden moment of courage, you stood on your toes and placed a soft kiss to his cheek. His smooth cheek and the slightly rough yet softer than anticipated scratch of those dark whiskers, intermittent speckled with auburn, felt amazing against your lips. And fuck, did he smell amazing. Which you knew already from the tight and friendly hugs he'd seemed to start giving you. The first hit of his aftershave was always the same, dominated by a white-out of bergamot and pepper, a bright flash of sweet, dewy citrus that is both crisp and clean, underpinned by a freshness that was both light and gentle and completely different to the heavy sandalwood based fragrance you’d grown so used to. It was brief, but when you pulled back, you gave a content huff, “Huh.” “What?” He was clearly puzzled. “Your beard. It’s kinda soft.” “What? What the hell did you expect?” He laughed. “I dunno, maybe a toilet brush type bristle.” “You kiss a lot of toilet brushes Y/N?” “Try not to.” She winked. “Thanks again, Andy. I enjoyed today.” He chuckled and shook his head as he watched you turn back to your door and finally stepped inside your home. Before you closed the door, you turned back, noticing he was watching you go in. "Bye."

"Goodnight, Y/N."

**** Chapter 2

#consciousness of guilt #andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #andy barber fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans characters #reader insert

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marshallpupfan · 3 years ago

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Guess it's been a while since I've added any items to my Marshall collection. I was trying to cut back because I spent a little too much earlier this month... but I can't say no to merchandise of my favorite character for too long! Besides, the items you see here, believe it or not, only cost me around $6 in-total!

This cute hat was found at a Goodwill. It was only $1, too! It can't fit me, but I'm sure I can find a spot for it in my collection somewhere.

While browsing around a flea market, I found a booth that had six storage totes full of small toys. While searching through them, I found plenty of PAW Patrol merch, including some of Skye, Rocky, Zuma, and of course, Marshall! Most of them were ones I already had, but then I found this one. I had no idea they made one where he can lower his head like this. Outside of a bit of missing paint around his paws, it's in good condition, too. It was only $1, so... sold! :)

Now I just wonder what set this originally came from. Anyone know?

My folks actually found this at a Dollar General. It's got some really cute artwork! Naturally, I really love the way Marshall looks on it! Makes me wish we could get a 2D animated version of the cartoon.

Last, this 12" plush! I found it at a different flea market, and much to my surprise, it was only $1! Amusingly, that bottle was $3, so it was the most expensive of the four! lol

Of course, this thing was cheap for a reason, and you can probably tell why; it's pretty dirty, and it has a bunch of loose threads here and there (left cheek, the dots next to his nose, etc.)

Even worse, some of its seams were starting to pop loose. I didn't notice this until I got home, though at that price, I probably still would've bought it, anyway. This poor thing's had a rough life...

So... let's fix it! Hey, I've purchased a few items at flea markets before that I ended up fixing myself, and I do have some sewing knowledge. Let's see what I can do to restore some life into it!

Now, while I say I have some sewing knowledge... admittedly, it's nothing I can brag about. I have a general idea of what I'm doing, but nobody's gonna go calling me up as their go-to expert. lol

With that said, my repair turned out quite well! It's still a bit noticeable, but it certainly gets the job done!

Afterwards, I decided to give this thing a bath. I forgot to get pictures of this, but basically I just filled my bathroom sink with warm water, poured in some laundry detergent, and dipped the thing in while gently yet firmly rubbing all the dirty spots. After washing it off one final time and then gently squeezing the plush to remove as much water as I could, I placed it in front of a fan overnight help it dry.

(Word of advice; do this if you want to clean a plush. Do NOT put it in a washer & dryer, else it WILL get torn up and ruined.)

The results? I think it looks so much better now! A tiny bit scruffy because of the wash, but I just need to brush my finger over some of the fur to fix that. Overall, I'd say my hard work paid off, because I think it now looks nearly as good as new!

Funnily enough, this plush is quite similar to another I own, only smaller. It's like the younger brother to the bigger one. lol

That's all for now! I've got three more things coming in the mail soon, so hopefully I'll get to show those off by the end of the week. Perhaps a few more, though I haven't ordered them yet because I can't decide which one to pick (a backpack, or a plush based on his movie design).

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bloodsadx · 3 years ago

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what do u use to draw on the shirt? is it a special kind of paint or ink? is it printed?

i’m a screen printer! i usually use water based ink but sometimes i use acrylic. i’ve been experimenting with puff additive. here’s a video of me talking about this stuff at length as well as printing an old batch of shirts out of my house if you are interested in seeing it demonstrated.

for anybody who is interested in a text explanation, screen printing is a process where you use 1) a tight weave of plastic mesh that’s been stretched taught by an aluminum or wooden frame And 2) liquid emulsion that is light sensitive and hardens upon exposure to bright light to create a stencil on the mesh that, when you pass ink through, allows you to reproduce a design on various surfaces. using this process and the right inks you can basically make any image appear on any surface if you are determined enough, which is very fun to me.

for my process i draw things at any size, scan them into photoshop, create a binarized version of the image (meaning strictly black or white, with no gradients, variations in transparency nor saturation) with the curves tool (or separate out each color of the image as different layers to be printed in various order), and then print my drawing using an inkjet home printer on 11x17” plastic, transparent “paper” (usually just called transparencies, like the kind of stuff a teacher used to draw on with expo markers to use for a classroom projector). once i have the printed transparencies i can flip the drawing that has been printed onto the transparency to act as a photonegative and tape that to a screen that has dried but not exposed emulsion on it. i then expose that using a light exposure unit, and once it has been exposed, wash the unexposed emulsion out of the screen using a relatively high pressure stream of water (like something from a garden hose). the emulsion that has been washed out acts as the area ink will pass through. i have the benefit of working at a screen printing studio at the moment which allows me access to a pretty good light exposure unit, dark room, and wash out booth, but i used to print out of my house, and all of the process is doable out of a closet and bathroom.

it may seem intimidating but in practice it is actually pretty easy and fun and tons of people do it all over the place all the time for money and as a goof. you can do graffitti and vandalism with it or you can sell shitty t shirts to baseball teams in perpetuity. it used to be done with silk that was stretched extremely tight so some people call it silk screening. it is basically the foremost way people replicate graphics and patterns onto fabric.

#ask

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skzsauce01 · 4 years ago

Text

Cutie Pie

Synopsis: Who’s your secret admirer? Guess you’ll have to unmask him at your academy’s end-of-term ball.

Warning: none

Word Count: 5.1k

Pairing: fem!reader x Bang Chan, best friends Sana and Nayeon

Saturday was the most anticipated day of the week. The academy only allowed mail to be collected on Saturdays, so Jihyo, the unofficial resident adviser, would head down to the mailroom early in the morning and collect all the packages and letters for everyone in the hall. She didn’t need to do such a thing when everyone had access to the mailroom, but it was a passed down ritual from the opening of the girls’ dorm. There would always be a few girls in the common room, waiting for their deliveries of skin products and 3 AM impulse buys. You would know; you were a sucker for a sale, no matter how much money your parents made.

However, this particular Saturday, every single girl was awake at seven o’clock and impatiently waiting for Jihyo to appear. Even you, who had pulled an all-nighter on Thursday to cram study, had let your excited roommate and friend Sana drag you into the common room with no complaints. Despite how exhausted you felt, you wanted to know what the theme of the end-of-term ball was as well.

You yawned and huddled closer to Sana on the plush velvet couch. You wished she would have let you grab your thick comforter before you left. The usually lit fireplace — though more for decoration than actual function — held nothing but ashes, and the big, drafty room was colder than usual. You shivered and mumbled a few choice words to your roommate, who was in too good of a mood to retort back. Luckily, Nayeon, who was on Sana’s other side, threw a section of her own comforter to you, and you gratefully snuggled under it.

“Thank you,” you said, nose already buried by fluffy white fur.

Sana poked your arm. “What do you think the theme is this year?”

You shrugged. You were always bad at guessing. “Winter Wonderland?”

“That’s what we did two years ago!” she shook her head. “Hey, Nayeon. What about you?”

However, before Nayeon could reply, Jihyo entered the room with an armful of boxes. “Mail!” she cheerfully announced.

Normally, girls would descend upon her like a murder of crows to pick up their packages, but everyone stayed still and stared at the rolled up poster at the top of the mail pile. They all watched as she slowly set down the boxes in the middle of the room and eagerly waited for her to say the theme. But Jihyo only grinned and teasingly asked why no one wanted their orders.

“Jihyo! Tell us already!” Momo whined. She raised the pillow she was previously hugging, threatening to throw it at the older girl.

“Okay, okay,” Jihyo smiled. Agonizingly slow, she unrolled the theme announcement poster. “This year’s end-of-term ball is… Midnight Masquerade!”

A wave of gasps and whispers rippled across the room. This was something no one was expecting; more often than not, themes were recycled from the ones twenty years ago. Thrilled by the prospects of daring new outfits and dancing with a boy, the murmurs evolved into full length conversations. You slunk low into your seat while half listening to Sana and Nayeon decide what color to wear. A masquerade, huh? Not only were there now dresses and shoes to discuss, but also masks. Since everyone would be less noticeable wearing them, then maybe…

“Maybe your secret admirer will ask you to the ball!” Sana suddenly said out loud.

“Shh!” you hissed. You quickly scanned the room to make sure no one heard. Fortunately, everyone was engrossed in their own worlds.

Your roommate rolled her eyes. “Who doesn’t know about him at this point? He bought all your leftover apple pies during the Fall Festival.”

“Who could forget?” you said, remembering how fifty apple pies were bought in a single purchase.

You paced the tiny area inside the booth. It was the last day of Fall Fest, and there were still boxes of unbought apple pies. If you didn’t sell them all in an hour, the club would lose money. Not that it really mattered, you thought to yourself, as JYP was a private academy that received exorbitant amounts in donations and tuitions anyway. Surely the student council would allocate some funds for the Astronomy Club. However, the club’s reputation would be hurt, and selling apple pies had been your idea. Being president sucked sometimes.

Seungmin, another board member of the club, soon returned from his break, and you guiltily dumped the task on him. You promised to come back ten minutes before Fall Fest ended, and he merely waved you off. You spent the rest of the time doing your best to steal customers from other food booths, but no one seemed to want gourmet apple pie when there was a lobster food truck around.

When your time was up, you headed back to the booth with a frown and a posture that would have been deemed unacceptable by your mother. To your confusion and delight, there were no more pies left. Seungmin explained that someone purchased all of them on behalf of his employer. He also offhandedly mentioned that the man muttered, “What is that boy going to do with all this?” while handing him the money.

You prodded Seungmin for more answers, but that was all he knew.

“And he sent you that cute card after, too!” Nayeon chimed in.

You received the card the next Saturday after the festival. When you went to check if you got any mail, there was a horde of girls surrounding the coffee table. Momo had an envelope in her hand, and you assumed it was another letter for her from her long distance boyfriend, but to your surprise, Momo herself presented it to you with a flourish. The fancy white envelope had your name inked across the center in rose gold.

“Who is it from?” Dahyun asked, standing on her tiptoes behind you, trying to read over your shoulder.

You carefully opened it and immediately felt heat rushing to your face when you read the simple message on the creamy paper: “I think you’re a cutie pie” followed by a line drawing of an apple pie.

Dahyun had read it out loud, and news that you had a secret admirer spread throughout the academy like a wildfire. Even after a month, no one could even mention pie without a teasing glance in your direction.

“What if he reveals himself to you at the ball?” Jeongyeon stage-whispered. Evidently, no one wanted to talk about dresses anymore when a mysterious boy was involved. “Wouldn’t that be romantic?”

Too flustered by being the center of attention, you didn’t respond. You had to admit, Jeongyeon was right. Six-year-old you would have swooned at the current situation, and bold thirteen-year-old you would have pestered anyone and everyone for more information. Fall Fest you simply kept the note hidden in your desk drawer and secretly reread it. Sana caught you once, and it was embarrassing to say the least.

“Y/N, are you busy then?”

Sana’s words snapped you out of your haze. You looked at her. “Hm?”

“Shopping next Sunday!” she brightly answered. “Nayeon said she’ll drive us!”

So, it was set. You and Sana would meet Nayeon in the common room at 9:30 to check out the new boutique downtown. However, you already had an idea of what you wanted to wear and were starting to draw the design in your head. You made a mental note to call up your favorite fashion house to place an order. You would go shopping for shoes, but the dress and its matching mask was a done deal.

Sana and Nayeon had similar ideas, and the three of you made a promise to each other and yourselves to only focus on accessories though you were sure that pact would be broken the moment you all stepped foot into downtown.

The rest of the week flew by quickly. Amidst doing homework and studying, you chatted with the other students about the masquerade, which was only a month away. Some of the boys started asking girls to the ball with elaborate bouquets, self-composed songs, and in one case, a choreographed dance number. Sana and Nayeon crossed names off their “Who Could Y/N’s Secret Admirer Be?” list with each asking. By Friday night, their list was tacked onto the bulletin board in the common room so other girls could contribute. You stationed yourself on a nearby couch, pretending to be busy typing an essay on your laptop. You were too curious to actually write anything, so instead you watched like a hawk whenever someone even came close to the bulletin board.

“... and Ok Taecyeon,” Dahyun read aloud. “So, it’s not them. How about…” She closed her eyes and jabbed her finger to a random spot. “The wall?”

“Definitely not the wall,” you giggled.

“He’s kind of cute though. Dark blue paint, random fliers.”

You laughed at her as she began cooing at the wall, telling how dashing it looked in dark blue. Dahyun was always trying to make you feel better about the situation. She was the last person to come by for the night, and you begrudgingly headed back to your dorm to go to bed an hour after Dahyun left.

Saturday afternoon you went to check your mail after waking up. The winter coat you ordered arrived on Wednesday, and you desperately needed it now that temperatures were starting to drop. To your surprise, the common room was nearly full, and the commotion turned into silence as you came into view.

“Hey,” you cautiously said. “Did something happen?”

“You got a letter,” was the simple answer.

Like people passing each other buckets of water to put out a fire, the girls passed down the letter to you. You didn’t miss the sly looks that were exchanged. Once the thick envelope was in your hand, a sense of deja vu washed over you. When you glanced down, your name was written in rose gold, in the same loopy calligraphy from the Fall Festival. Your heart fluttered, and you knew why, but the lump of anxiety in your stomach you didn’t understand. Maybe it was because you wanted privacy for such a momentous moment. Maybe it was because you had fifteen pairs of eyes on you.

“What does it say?” Jeongyeon asked, graciously not saying what everyone wanted to know — “Who is it from?”

You might as well get it over with, you reasoned, since everyone would badger you with questions anyway. You lifted the flap, breaking the red wax. You noted that the family coat of arms featured two floppy-eared dogs and branches with rounded leaves. The last letter didn’t have a seal, you remembered. The same cream-colored stationery as before greeted your eyes, and you opened the card with gentle fingers, taking care not to crease it.

Meeting you would be grand. I’ll be waiting with a red rose in hand.

A pressed rose petal decorated the bottom half of the note, and you absentmindedly touched it while trying to slow your racing heart. Your eyes were glued to the message, rereading it over and over again. This was it, your chance to finally meet him. A hint of a smile started to show on your face, and Mina, observant as always, pointed it out.

“Is it something good?” she said, already knowing the answer.

You nodded, hiding your visibly flustered face with the envelope. Cheers erupted throughout the room, Sana being the loudest one of them.

“So, who is it?” Nayeon asked. “Is it BamBam? He’s been acting suspicious lately.”

“Jeongin? He always asks you for help,” Chaeyoung suggested.

You reread the card, searching for a signature, an inside joke, something to indicate the sender. Unfortunately, all you had was the seal, but you recognized none of the elements that would help you narrow down your search.

You showed everyone the broken wax. “Anyone know whose family seal this is?” You handed the envelope to the closest girl, who glanced at it and passed it to the next person.

When it reached Sana, she brought it centimeters away from her eyes, scrutinizing every little detail she could pick out. “It looks familiar, but I don’t know,” she finally said out loud. “I’ll ask around. Okay if I take a picture, Y/N?”

“Please.” You wanted to know who this mystery boy was more than anyone.

The envelope came back to you, and you carefully tucked the card inside. The crowd started to thin out as girls started to head back to their rooms or out of the dorms. So did you.

Once inside your room, the package that held your much needed winter coat was left discarded at the foot of your bed. With shaky hands, you reopened both the cards you had received from your secret admirer. You traced the words with a trembling finger, feeling the imprints made by the fountain pen, marvelling at how elegant his handwriting was. It was written by someone with a firm hand and a delicate touch, you imagined. Someone who was deliberate and kind and…

You shook your head. There was no sense in projecting your hopes of him on him, especially since you didn’t even know who he was.

Yet with only a slight feeling of embarrassment and some guilt, you lifted the stationery to your nose in a poor attempt to sniff out his cologne. All you smelled was expensive paper, and your whole body heated up when you realized how shameless you were a mere two seconds ago. Thank goodness Sana was busy and had no chance of bursting in.

You hid both letters inside your desk and opened your package, pretending that the past five minutes didn’t happen. The whole day was like that, pretending that you were cool, calm, collected when you really had the energy equivalent of five cups of black coffee coursing through your veins.

Sana came back with no new answers. At night, you drifted in and out of sleep, wondering who he was and how he would reveal himself to you.

As decided, you and Sana met up with Nayeon in the common room at 9:30 the following day. You yawned, regretting not taking any melatonin before you went to bed; you were tired from hours of unrestful sleep. Luckily, Nayeon, the driver, was in a much better state than you.

“I asked BamBam yesterday,” she said as she pulled out of the parking lot, “and he says it’s not him. I asked about his seal, and his is completely different.”

“He could be lying. What if he used someone else’s seal to trick Y/N?” Sana gasped.

“But why would he even do that? There wasn’t any seal on the first letter I got,” you replied. “It’s probably just a hint.”

“Ah! So he wants you to know who he is but is too shy to say it outright!” Sana declared. “But someone has to know. Is it too much if I post an ad in JYPaper?”

“Yes.” The school newspaper had many readers, and you didn’t want to be known as The Girl with the Secret Admirer again. “I don’t think they even allow things like that. We have at least three weeks to figure out who he is anyway.”

“Killjoy,” Sana pouted.

Soon, the three of you arrived in front of the boutique. As expected, the promise to buy only accessories for the masquerade was broken when Nayeon spotted an emerald green dress with lace details.

“Maybe I’ll wear this instead,” she wondered out loud. Before any of you could stop her, she grabbed it off the rack and brought it to the register, not even bothering to check the size.

You and Sana shared looks before heading over to the display of shoes. A cursory glance told you that none of them would match your dress the way you wanted. Despite that, you tried on a silver heel bedazzled with possibly real diamonds as Sana selected a black velvet pump. Nayeon returned with a brand new bag with the boutique’s name emblazoned on the front.

It was a similar experience at the other stores the three of you later visited. At least one of you would buy an unneeded item, while the main purpose of buying shoes for the masquerade was forgotten. The topic of your secret admirer, however, was not as lucky. At the end of the day, you had learned far too much about the Hwang family’s supposed seal, and Nayeon’s trunk was filled with shopping bags of various sizes and multicolored tissue paper. No progress was made.

“Y/N,” Sana started, her voice in an uncharacteristic lilt that typically meant she was going to ask for a favor, “can you take my bags too? Chan says he’s free now, and I want to ask him about the seal.”

“Can’t you just do it over text? I bet Chan wouldn’t mind,” you said. You threaded the handles of as many bags as you could through your arms. “You bought so many things.”

“If I do it in person, I’ll know if he’s lying or not.”

“He’s on the student council,” Nayeon pointed out. “We voted for him because he’s honest and trustworthy.”

“Please? He’s my friend, and I haven’t talked to him in ages,” she tried. For some strange reason, you couldn’t help but feel that it was a flimsy excuse for her not to take her fifteen bags back to the dorms.

“I’m your friend too,” you huffed. Despite your show of annoyance, you grabbed one of her bags as well. The last time she and Chan spoke face-to-face was two weeks ago, which was ‘ages’ since they usually had dinner together at least twice a week. “Fine. But he better know something useful.”

Sana lit up and eagerly waved goodbye. You called after her, “You’re treating me to dinner tomorrow!”

Nayeon added, “Me too!” as she picked up a black bag with gold ribbons for handles.

After three trips back and forth, Nayeon’s car was finally empty. Sana still had not returned, so the two of you went to the dining hall for a late night snack. Nayeon checked the “Who Could Y/N’s Secret Admirer Be?” list and read off the names still not crossed off.

(Apparently, Jeongyeon had created a spreadsheet and shared it with all the girls, so the list could be updated in real time. You were both surprised and not surprised at this news.)

“What about Felix?” she suggested. She flashed her phone screen at you, and Lee Felix had no strikethrough. “He’s a new transfer, so maybe that’s why no one recognizes the seal. Or maybe he doesn’t have a seal.”

You shrugged, more focused on the cheese platter on a nearby table. “Maybe,” you said, loading your plate with delicious morsels.

Nayeon mumbled something about your disinterest when food was in front of you, but she did the same. Chaeyoung, seated in a booth near a window with her own plate of cheese and crackers, waved you over.

“Rumor has it that your secret admirer is Lee Felix,” she said, forgoing a greeting.

Right beside you, Nayeon hissed, “See! I was right!”

“Someone saw him with some red roses last week, and your card did have a rose petal on it,” she continued. She nibbled on a small block of cheese as she looked for your reaction.

You chewed on your bottom lip. Was it really him? Was Lee Felix your secret admirer? You only knew him by a string of associations — Chan’s friend. Sana’s friend’s friend. He was pretty cute, you admitted.

“Maybe,” you replied, already thinking about his sharp jawline and the dusting of freckles across cheeks. “But only three more weeks until I find out.”

Sana had been acting strangely recently. She had started asking lots of specific questions about things you liked in guys. While you would have normally brushed this aside as Sana being Sana, she would follow up with questions like, “What do you think of this quality in a boyfriend?” Your answers were noncommittal, but she always smiled far too innocently and typed it on her phone. When your star-embroidered dress and its matching mask for the ball had arrived, a hint of a grin had appeared on her face. Then she had squealed, “He’ll love it!” and immediately clasped a hand over her mouth, like she had just told a huge secret. During the latest shopping trip with her and Nayeon — where you finally found a pair of heels you liked — Sana had smirked when the three of you unexpectedly ran into Chan and Felix, also shopping for the ball.

“Is it Lee Felix?” you asked moments after the boys were out of earshot.

She pretended not to hear you. “Hey, Nayeon, what do you think of that dress over there?”

You frowned, debating whether this meant it was Felix was not Felix. But it was clear that she knew something.

Weeks passed, and there was no new information about who your admirer could be. Much to your disappointment, Sana kept her lips sealed and tactfully changed topics whenever the masquerade was brought up.

Now that everyone was getting ready for the masquerade, she was dancing about you, deciding where to best place the decorative pins in your hair. You were fine with the situation earlier since you were waiting for Momo to finish Dahyun’s makeup, but Dahyun had been long gone.

“Here! No, here!” Sana selected a new location, deemed it not perfect, and took out the pin.

Momo, who had been patiently waiting to start on your makeup for a solid five minutes, gave you a sympathetic smile. “Sana, are you close to done yet?” she asked. “We’re going to be even later than we are now.”

“But she has to look perfect! She’s about to meet her secret admirer!”

The few girls present in the common room — where Momo had set up for the night — murmured in agreement.

Sighing, you snatched the handful of pins away from her and stuck them artfully into your curls. Or as artfully as you could in five seconds. It didn’t matter; they were shaped like stars, so they would look nice anyway. “There. Hair, check.”

After makeup was complete, Nayeon carefully tied your masquerade mask back, and Tzuyu held up a mirror for you. With Momo’s handiwork and half of your face covered, you barely recognized yourself. Your heart raced at the discovery; would he recognize you then? The letters he sent rested on your lap, and you absentmindedly touched the broken wax seal.

“All ready to go!” Sana cheerfully said. She pulled you up from your chair and linked arms with you. “Let’s find out who he is.”

Would it be Lee Felix, the top candidate among the girls, or someone who had gone by unnoticed? You gripped your skirts tighter in anticipation, and Sana slapped your wrist away in fear that you would wrinkle the fabric.

Downstairs, the ballroom was packed. Nayeon opened the double doors with bravado, and dozens of eyes looked in your direction. You thought everyone with their masks on looked like great horned owls staring you down, and you self-consciously adjusted yours, to Nayeon’s chagrin.

“What do I do?” you whispered to yourself. All the onlookers had returned to their own business, and you followed your friends through the crowd. “How do I even find him in all this?”

Nayeon had great hearing. “Red rose, remember?” she said. The baroque music nearly drowned out her answer. “He’s waiting with a red rose.”

“We’ll meet you by the punch table!” Sana shouted, already disappearing into the throngs of people. She grabbed Nayeon by the elbow, and you were left alone.

Stricken by the fact that you had no idea what to do and that your friends had basically ditched you, you stood in place. The letters were hidden in the folds of your skirt, and you repeatedly tapped on the sharp corner of the envelope to calm your anxiousness. You had imagined a Cinderella-like reveal, where the crowd would part and your prince would be waiting on the other end of the ballroom. Then he would reveal himself, and the two of you would dance the night away. Though in hindsight, the current situation was much more likely to happen.

You scanned the room, looking for any sign of red. Ties, dresses, masks, but not a single flower. Why was red such a popular color for masquerades?

“Y/N?” you heard to your left.

Eyes wide, you turned in that direction, only to see a boy with a rose in hand talking to a girl with a midnight blue feathered mask. Dahyun, you realized. Dahyun laughed and shook her head before pointing in your direction. Her and her eagle eyes, you gratefully thought.

The next part felt like a dream. Like a princess from a story, you picked up your skirts and walked up to him. It was him who was frozen in place now as you neared him. The background blurred as you focused solely on him, surreptitiously studying the exposed part of his face. His black mask blocked you from seeing his eyes, but the embarrassed smile was familiar.

“Hi,” he breathed, holding out the rose to you.

Heart beating, you took it and replied, “Hi.” After a beat, you blurted out, “Who are you?”

The smile turned into a grin, and you felt your cheeks growing hotter as you realized that his grin was just for you. Oh, he was cute. Or the lower half of his face was at least. “Don’t recognize me?”

“Should I?” You checked the broken seal on the second letter. Was there a secret message on there that you missed or something? It was still the floppy-eared dogs and what you learned from Jihyo’s research was eucalyptus branches.

“Wow, Sana actually didn’t tell you?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought she would have.”

“Sana? What does she have to do with this?”

“She’s a mutual friend of ours. She’s one of my closest friends too. We’ve known each other for years.”

Then, it all dawned upon you. Sana, who thought the seal looked familiar, who wanted to speak to an old friend in person, who looked like she had been hiding a secret from you during the past three weeks. Sana, who had fussed over your appearance, who left you in the center of the ballroom for no real reason.

“Chan?” you whispered.

“Yeah. Are you disappointed?”

“No! I’m just surprised! I didn’t think that— Everyone thought it would be Felix, so I… kind of believed it…”

“If you want to dance with Felix, then I can get him for you,” he quietly offered, his face falling.

You caught his sleeve before he could turn away, and you didn’t miss his shocked expression when you quickly said, “No! I want to dance with you. Really.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to—”

“Yes, I’m sure. Please stay.”

You loosened your own mask and let it hang around your neck. Suddenly you felt shy now that all of your face was showing. You vaguely knew Chan from years of being friends with Sana, but this was a completely new experience and feeling.

“You look really beautiful,” he softly said. “I like the stars on your dress and in your hair.”

“You look handsome too,” you shyly replied. Sensing a possible awkward lull in the conversation, you asked, “So… why did you think Dahyun was me?”

He groaned and looked away. The tips of his ears matched the flower you were holding. “Sana told me your dress was dark blue, and Dahyun’s was blue as well.”

You smiled, remembering Dahyun loudly announcing that the common room wall was her date and that she would be matching with it for the ball.

“Did she tell you that I would be waiting here, too? She and Nayeon ditched me here.”

“Yeah,” he admitted. With a sudden burst of confidence, he stepped forward, his hands hovering around your waist. “She told me a lot of things, but especially about you.”

“Like what?” You hesitantly wrapped your arms around his neck, and he jumped but pulled you closer nonetheless. The two of you began to sway to the music. “That I wake up in the afternoon on the weekends and she hates it because she has to tiptoe around?”

He laughed, and the lines around his eyes crinkled. “Yes, but other things as well. That you like stars and that you stayed up late to help her study for an exam even though you pulled an all nighter the night before.”

“Oh?” You remembered it, but you didn’t think she told anyone.

“Yeah. She made you sound unreal. I checked out the Astronomy Club booth in Fall Fest to meet you myself, but I got shy. You looked really pretty that day,” he added, making you blush. “And then I heard you and Seungmin talking about how many pies you guys had left, so I decided to help out.”

“By buying all of them.”

“Yeah. Kind of a stupid idea, now that I think about.”

“You definitely got my attention.” You rested your head on his shoulders and felt him sharply inhale. He relaxed soon after, and you continued with, “I couldn’t stop thinking about your card for weeks.”

“And I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he quietly replied, earning yet another blush from you.

He leaned closer, and you felt a breath get hitched in your throat until he whispered, “Not to alarm you or anything, but everyone’s watching us.”

A quick peek was all you needed to confirm his words. Dahyun was still lingering around, and Sana miraculously showed up, looking like the cat who swallowed the canary. Seungmin looked like he was giving Chan overly enthusiastic thumbs-ups.

“Do you wanna still wanna dance?” he mumbled. The music was loud enough that no one would be able to hear, but it was something intimate in a scene where the two of you were being gawked.

“Come with me,” you said.

“To wh— Oh!”

You slithered out of his hold and led him by the wrist through the crowd of onlookers to a more secluded spot near one of the giant windows in the hallway. Groups of people parted for you like the fairy tale scene you had imagined earlier. With your skirts flowing back and a handsome boy behind you, it certainly felt like a fairy tale. Once the two of you were alone, you leaned against the wall and looked up at him.

“So, who exactly is the guy beneath the mask?” you ask, pointing at him with the rose. “I wanna know more about him since he already knows so much about me.”

He pushed his mask up to his neatly combed hair and smiled at you, full dimples on display, galaxies in his eyes. “Just someone who thinks you’re a cutie pie.”

~ ad.gray

#stray kids #skz #bang chan #chan #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #fluff #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz fluff #bang chan fluff #stray kids x reader #twice #20201203

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let-them-read-fics · 4 years ago

Text

Home For The Holidays

Pairing: Lisa x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 3,335

Warnings / Misc. -- Potentially Lethal Fluff, Crying, Holiday Themed

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hey everybody! This idea came to me out of nowhere, but it’s definitely gotten me into the holiday spirit. I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

“Babe, have you seen my beanie?” Your question rings throughout the air, carrying across the apartment in search of Lisa. Just as you get your earrings put in, her reply comes through: “Mhm, it’s in here.” Before setting off to grab it, you take a long look at yourself in the mirror: the nervousness that you’re harboring is decently masked for the moment, but you pray that your composure doesn’t slip in the next few hours -- after all, that would surely spoil the fun that you have in store for Lisa.

“Aha!” You declare, sliding the material onto your head. She stifles a chuckle, which prompts you to look at her. When you do, all of the air in your lungs swiftly leaves your body; she looks absolutely stunning. She chose a simple outfit, consisting of a regular pair of jeans and a cozy sweater, but she makes it look designer.

“I’m convinced that you can make any and everything look good.” You tell her earnestly, once some of your thought processing skills have returned to you. With a roll of her eyes, she engulfs you in a hug; her perfume washes over you, and you fall into her embrace.

“I love you.”

Even after hearing those words from her as many times as you have, they still managed to send your heart wild. You hide your face in her neck, loving the cute squeal she lets out as you pick her up and twirl her around.

“I love you, jagi. So much.” Her eyes find yours, and the moment is perfect.

~~~~~~~

“Keep them closed! We’re almost there.”

“You’ve been saying that for the past 5 minutes.”

“Just trust me!” You laugh at her impatience, keeping your grip on her thighs steady as you make your way towards the restaurant. She lets her head lay beside yours, resting it on one of her arms that’re wrapped around your shoulders. In any other circumstance, she would’ve been whining more by now; this time, however, she didn’t mind waiting a little longer, considering she was comfortable and content, currently receiving a piggy back ride from you. In competition with the frigid air rushing around, your bodies work to keep each other warm.

After a little more walking, you finally reach your destination.

“Reservation, please?” The hostess requests upon your entrance.

“L/N.”

You gently set Lisa down, back on her feet again, and tell her to open her eyes. The expression that takes over her features is priceless, and you pat yourself on the back for having the foresight to book a table here so far in advance. The holidays always made it difficult to get in anywhere in the city without a reservation, and this restaurant is no exception -- in fact, it’s one of the hardest to get into. After hearing about the reviews, the two of you had been dying to try it out.

“Right this way, ladies.” The hostess says, and you fall in line behind her. Lisa links her arm with yours, and she begins ranting about all the different foods she wants to try.

~~~~~~~

The view from your table is unbelievable; seated next to a row of large windows, you can see the entire city before you, throngs of people walking about, enjoying their night out. You take a minute to think of all the possible things they could be doing, what routes they’re going down, each of them having a unique and beautiful story playing out in front of you.

Against your palm, the surface of the window chills your skin. Once you remove your hand, you see the imprint of it on the glass; a reminder that you had been there.

Lisa notices this, and leans towards the window; at first, you were confused, but soon your heart melts at her actions.

She releases a breath against it, the warm air prepping the surface for her artwork; her finger -- the very one that you’re wrapped around -- draws a heart, complete with your initials and hers inside of it.

“You’re the cutest,” she gushes, looking over your features. You can feel how dopey you look, completely in love and in awe by her. You can’t blame yourself, though.

Her hand finds its way to yours on the table, just as it always does, and you bring it to your lips. She grins at the feeling of your lips pressed against her knuckle, and her heart skips a beat. Both of you are completely whipped for each other, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

~~~~~~~

Stuffed and satisfied with the special anniversary meal you just consumed, you and Lisa make your way out of the restaurant. Next up on the agenda for tonight: ice skating.

~~~~~~~

Waves of fresh snowflakes flurry around the two of you, seemingly in a tango with the breeze that’s drifting by; two lovers rediscovering one another. Her hand is warm within your own, the mittens on your skin keeping the harsh temperatures at bay.

The gentle scraping of your skates can be heard against the ice, little patterns trailing behind in your wake. Yellow and white lights are strewn across the sides of the rink, offering a dazzlingly cozy aura, and you take them in. They remind you of the stars in the night sky, shining brightly, a certain unique twinkle held within each and every one of them.

Lisa gives your hand a squeeze, her silent way of requesting your attention.

“Yes, my love?”

A light blush rises to her cheeks as she begins speaking; you’re amazed that she still reacts to your pet names like that, just as she had when you first started dating. It’s adorable, and you can’t get enough of it.

“Let’s grab some hot cocoa, I’m getting a little cold.”

“Alright, last one there has to clean the litter box tonight!” The last part of the sentence leaves your lips in a rush, an attempt to stall her and give yourself a bit of a head start.

“Uh! Hey!” Her shocked exclamation quickly fades as you dash away from her, set on getting to the stand first.

~~~~~~~

Now armed with your warm beverages, the two of you skate over to the bench positioned directly outside of the rink. Conveniently, the seat is equipped with a heater, and Lisa pulls you in tight.

“Mmm, it’s good.” You tell her, taking another sip. She had spent the trip over here pouting at her defeat.

The two of you carried on with light conversation, reveling in the feeling of having each other so close. The city’s atmosphere was always different around this time of year, the holidays adding an extra charm to everything, no matter what it was. You would be content with doing absolutely nothing, so long as you had Lisa by your side -- and she felt the same way about you. Perhaps that’s why your relationship was so strong; genuine love and understanding ran true in every aspect, and you could never seem to get enough of each other. You still felt the same as you did at the beginning: the happiness upon waking up next to her, that excited blush when she told you she loved you, that familiar rush of desire from your passionate nights spent together -- all of it. She’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more, and you feel beyond blessed to have the privilege of calling her yours.

The night had been perfect so far; memories being made that would surely last a lifetime. The thoughts raced in your mind, swirling around just like the snow had before. They were only stopped by the feeling of her soft lips pressing against your cheek in a sweet kiss.

“Thank you for tonight. I’m so happy.” She leans her forehead against yours, and you brush her nose with your own.

“Of course. There’s no one I’d rather do this with.”

Her eyes are shining with affection, and you nearly get lost in them. Before you can, you stop yourself; your plans for this special night are long from over.

“How about we walk around a bit? I saw more trees and light designs on the way here and I wanna check them out.” She happily agrees, and the two of you change back into your boots before returning the skates. You slip an arm around her shoulders as you begin your journey, and she settles against your side.

You had remembered correctly -- after a short walk, you find the hub of activity from before; a whole block of the city is filled with different vendors and booths, a wide array of services offered. The area is a holiday bazaar, groups of merry people roaming about, lighting up at the different things to do.

Trees line the square, decorated beautifully with various lights and ornaments, their toppers reaching high up into the sky. The moment is too perfect to let slip by, so you retrieve the camera from your bag to capture it all. Lisa cuddles in close to you, smiling widely as you turn the device around to take a selfie of the two of you.

One mini-photoshoot later, you begin your exploration of the square. Quickly, you discover what the places have to offer: some hold arts and crafts, others have face painting, snacks, and even eggnog chugging contests. You grimace at that last one, seeing a group of what appears to be frat boys stumbling around nearby.

Upon spotting a special booth in the distance, you’re quick to remember your reason for suggesting coming here in the first place: Lisa’s next surprise. You do well in acting cool and calmly bringing her attention to the area, being careful not to blow your cover. It doesn’t take much convincing to have her trailing along after you, her hand snuggly tucked into yours.

The booth in question sticks out among the others, a bit out of place in what it offers: for $5, you get the opportunity to knock the city mascot into a dunk tank. The money goes to charity, and everyone has fun in the process. Win-win, right?

The second that you approach the counter, your heart begins racing feverishly -- the plan is coming together. “Just the $5 option, thank you.” You request, and the clerk hands you the balls: $5 gets you 5 opportunities to dunk the mascot into the chilly water below. As you walk over to the tank, you’re afraid that Lisa can see your nervousness; she’s always been able to read you well.

Luckily for you, though, you know just what to do to throw her off your tracks: you pull her in, guiding her lips to your own in a tender kiss. She places her hand overtop of yours, against her cheek, and her fingers lace with yours. She sighs against you, and you smile. Mission accomplished. Before things can get too heated, you pull away, setting the weapons of choice into her hands. “Good luck,” you whisper into her ear, a chill running down her spine at the lowness of your voice.

~~~~~~~

After 3 misses in a row, she’s beginning to get discouraged.

“Ahh, this is rigged!”

As you open your mouth to reply, your phone begins to ring. Right on time. You suppress the smile playing on your lips -- a task much easier said than done -- and tell her that you’ll be right back.

You pretend to answer your phone as you return to the counter, making eye contact with the clerk.

“Are they ready yet?”

“Almost. They’ll be right out.” He smiles back at you, happy to see something like this about to go down. The holidays truly are a magical time of the year.

The moment is interrupted by Lisa’s father walking out of the back room and into your line of sight. “How do I look?” He asks no one in particular, and receives a whistle from his wife, who is also making her way out of the room.

You beam at them, so excited to be with them again. “Those suits look great on you guys.” You tell them, fanning yourself to add to the comical effect. They don the same outfits as the mascot sitting in the tank.

“Alright, so does everyone remember what to do?” You ask, eyes darting between them.

“Once she dunks him, we run out and celebrate.” Lisa’s mom looks to you, waiting for your reassurance of the plan.

“Exactly. Any questions?”

“No, but hurry her up. This outfit is itchy.” You can’t help but chuckle at her father’s words; now, a little weight lifted off of your chest, you make your way back to Lisa.

“There you are! Who was that?” As much as you hate lying to her, you think it’s safe to bet that you’ll easily be forgiven.

“Just someone from work, lame business stuff.”

She accepts your answer right away, and turns the topic back to her mission. With you by her side once again, she resumes her efforts.

After an eternity of careful deliberation and tense preparation, Lisa chucks the next ball through the air; a loud whoosh sound follows behind it, and you hold your breath.

Time seems to move in slow motion; the ball collides with the target, sending confetti into the air and retracting the seat beneath the mascot. Soon he’s submerged in water, everyone in close proximity to the booth now cheering loudly. Lisa turns to you, her arms above her head in triumph, a winning smile on her lips. You lift her up in celebration, and smile against her as you nuzzle your face in the crook of her neck.

With a quick peek over her shoulder, you spot the two “mascots” approaching; you swiftly set her down and attempt to contain your excitement.

Her mother taps her on the shoulder, grabbing her attention. She offers her daughter a balloon -- the customary prize for winning -- and claps when she takes it. Her father gives her a thumbs up and a pat on the head.

As she turns her attention to you, shooting you a look of confusion, her mother stands behind her and removes the mascot head. The subsequent smirk that you don lets Lisa know that something is up, and she spins around once again.

Upon seeing her mother’s face, she drops to the ground, quickly becoming a mess of tears and emotions. The situation is only heightened when her father removes his mask as well, bending down to wrap his wife and daughter up in a long-overdue embrace.

The sight before you has you in tears within an instant; opportunities like this are rare for Lisa, and you feel honored to be the reason for this little reunion. You release a silent thank you to your past self for having the foresight -- yet again -- to squirrel away some money. Something back then had told you you’d need it, and you were beyond thrilled that you had trusted your gut.

Perhaps it was your imagination, but you could’ve sworn that everything shined a little brighter now. The snow sparkled in some majestic way, and the city lights worked together to create a beautiful picture, contrasting with the dark mountains that resided in the distance. Nothing could compete with the view in front of you, though; especially when Lisa raised a hand in your direction, calling you over to their little huddle.

The four of you held each other tightly, simultaneously sobbing and wiping away each other’s tears. No one spoke for a while; everyone was too emotional and content with the happy silence to do so.

Besides, what could she say to you? Lisa knew automatically that you had been the one to arrange all of this and raise the money to get them a flight out. What could she possibly say to repay that? You’re her world, and she’s so happy to have you in her life. People like you are rare, and she cherishes you more with each day you spend together.

None of you really kept track of how much time had passed, but you had made your way into one of the enclosed tents, seeking shelter from the cold and dying to fill each other in on all that's happened since your last visit.

You watch them in awe, loving the way that they light up when they talk to each other. It warms your heart, the way they're all holding hands and looking at each other with so much love. It’s easy to see that this is just what they needed; you can practically see their worries being lifted and cast away.

With one last swig of your drink, you begin to mentally prepare yourself for your final surprise.

In one motion, you accidentally drop your phone into the floor, and crouch down to retrieve it. Lisa gives you a quick look but soon does a double take when she sees you still on the floor, now down on one knee, a small box in your hand.

You’re sure her eyes are about to pop out of her head.

As you clear your throat and swallow your nerves, you glance up at her parents; they’re already looking to you, proud expressions written plainly on their faces. That silent gesture alone is encouragement enough, and it prompts you to begin.

“Lisa…” Wow. One word in and your voice is already failing you. Your eyes shyly scan up to hers, only to find her recently dried cheeks now covered in tears once again. Her hand is clasped over her mouth in an attempt to stifle her cries.

“I knew from the moment we met that I wanted to marry you someday, and I can’t think of a better way to ask than this. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone, and I’m so glad we get to share this day with your parents. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to properly thank them for making you, but I’ll spend my life trying, as long as you’ll have me. So, whaddya say?”

Lisa has always made it clear how much she loves you; despite knowing that, you can’t help but feel nervous as you wait for her answer. Her head is swimming with just about every different emotion imaginable right now, and she’s doing all she can to hold in her tears long enough to respond to you.

“I love you so much. Let’s get married, Y/N.”

A loud whoop leaves your mouth upon her reply, the sound echoing around the space.

You surge forward, eagerly pressing your lips against hers, and she cheerfully takes you into her arms. Once the ring is on her finger, you walk around to the other side of the table and embrace her parents. Having their approval and support means the absolute world to you, and you take a minute to think about how perfect everything turned out.

Now, once again cuddled into Lisa’s side, one of your hands playing with the ends of her hair, you look up into her eyes.

“How did I get so lucky?” She asks, looking down at you, utterly overjoyed with what went down tonight.

“It was written in the stars, baby.”

Lisa’s heart swells at your words, and she pulls you in impossibly closer. Wanting to give the two of you some private time to celebrate, her parents leave the table and go to order some food from across the tent.

Now alone, her lips find yours again, and they take their sweet time in showing you all of the things she didn’t know how to verbalize to you. She peppers kisses across your face; starting with your cheeks, then your nose, and finally, your forehead. You let out a squeal as she grips your waist, her fingers gently toying with the fabric of your sweater.

Sitting there, in the arms of the love of your life, you’ve never felt more content. What a night, you think to yourself, smiling at her parents once more.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Thanks for reading!

#lalisa manoban #lisa manoban #lisa x reader #lalisa #blackpink #blackpink oneshots #blackpink imagine #lalisa imagine #blackpink x reader #lisa x fem reader #let-them-read-fics

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boymeetsweevil · 4 years ago

Text

SS6 - MYG, FLUFF, 2900w

For @bangtancentricsblogsmain because i wanted her to suffer :)

At 3pm, on a Thursday, there’s a knock on Yoongi’s bedroom door. He had come through that very same door not an hour earlier to lock himself away from the world after a particularly draining day. After dropping his bag somewhere on the ground, he showered, removed his contacts, and pushed the laundry waiting to be folded over to the other half of his bed in record time.

Normally he would have joined his roommate and their mutual friend circle who were seated on the couch in the communal living room, eating snacks and watching a game. But this time he begged out with a quiet mumble about needing rest.

When Hoseok knocks, Yoongi makes a feeble sound to signal he’s still, unfortunately, awake.

“What,” Yoongi grumbles.

He attempts to sit up on one pale elbow and then decides against it. Hoseok’s lips twitch up at how cranky Yoongi is pre-nap before sinking back down as his expression darkens into a pitying and somber mix.

“She’s here. And, uh, she’s asking for you.” Hoseok’s eyes dart back to some unseen spot in the living room.

“Tell her I’m asleep.”

“I know you’re not asleep, Yoongi!” Your voice rings from outside the bedroom and Hoseok cringes sympathetically.

“I’ll just leave,” Hoseok says when you shove your torso through the crack in the doorway.

You wait to start speaking until the bedroom door is shut and the noises from the TV outside wash away.

“Why haven’t you been answering my texts?”

“Sorry, I’ve been busy,” is all you get.

The backpack you carry drops unceremoniously to the ground with a thud and any dregs of sleep cloying to Yoongi’s brain vanish with the sound. It’s with a valiant effort that he shoves his face deeper into his pillow. You cock your head to look at your best friend and snort at him.

Yoongi’s glasses are skewed across his face. There are thin pink lines marring the left side of his face from lying pressed to the wrinkled sheets with glasses on. The platinum blond waves of his hair, normally coiffed styled, are squashed flat against his forehead. Rarely ever does he look this rumpled and it’s hilarious.

“That’s okay, I’ll just tell you what I wrote in the texts,” you say as you make your way further into Yoongi’s small room.

A look down at your feet shows him that you’ve shoved your feet into the pair of bunny slippers he got for guests you when he and Hoseok first moved in almost a year ago.

“Basically,” you continue. “There’s good news and there’s bad news. Pick one.” You help yourself to his desk chair and swivel it so it faces him.

“Bad news first,” Yoongi says after some deliberation. He pulls the covers up to his chin more securely.

“Smart choice,” you nod sagely. “The bad news is I’m gonna have to paint your face.”

“What the hell,” Yoongi barks.

“But the good news is that I have a new job as a face painter at the kids’ section of the farmer’s market this season!”

“How is that good news for me?”

“It means I’ll be slightly less broke and I can stop asking you to buy me breakfast before our 9am.”

Yoongi doesn’t really know whether to laugh or to cry. Firstly, there’s no way in hell he’s letting you paint his face. You’ve always been shit at drawing and letting you showcase that on his skin doesn’t do him any favors. Secondly, he’s in his twenties and he doesn’t even go to the farmer’s market. There’s no reason for him to set foot on the town commons during sunny Saturdays for local produce, much less to get his face painted next to a pen full of smelly goats and screaming kids. He’s just not seeing the connection between you getting this job and him getting his face painted. He stares at you with the hope that you’ll back off but he finds that you’re just blinking back at him with a huge, proud pretty grin.

For a moment Yoongi wants to smile back like things are normal. He wants to put on a groan and act like he’s annoyed that he’s been “forced” to order you sugary coffee drinks and muffins using his own money for longer than he can remember. He wants to gently muss your hair to see you make that cute shocked face you always make. But he can’t.

Because if he does all that, he might slip up again like he did last weekend.

At 10:24pm, Friday of last week, Yoongi told you he loved you while one small bottle of liquid courage was sloshing away in his stomach. After seconds of silence ticked by like the bangs of a gong, you replied. A sing-songy ‘Aww. I love you too, Yoongi’ and a light pat on the arm. Your words were basically the mirror image of his, but somehow also starkly different. Disappointment walked him home early that night and embarrassment laid him low the following week.

But it was just a week, he’d reasoned with himself, you’d hardly notice anyway...

“Yoongi? You okay?”

“No,” he hisses and shakes his head gently to dislodge memories of that pathetic weekend.

“Are you sure?”

“Why do you need to paint my face?”

“For practice! The market doesn’t open for another month but I need to get good. Jungkook said that if I do it really well the parents will leave bigger tips.”

“So Jungkook is behind all this.”

“Yeah,” you chirp. “He’s been really helpful in the last week. Usually I’d vent to you about how broke I am but since you were so busy, I ended up hanging out with Kook. He’s honestly really resourceful and he got me the job really fast.”

The hairs on the back of Yoongi’s neck bristle at the mention of the younger “peer”. Jungkook was a constant presence at group hangouts for a long while but Yoongi could only ever think of him as a friend of a friend. There was something smarmy about the guy’s smile that he didn’t like. And the way he was always draping himself over you, teasing you, buying you food that was all his job. He can’t put his finger on what it is exactly, but something about Jungkook always put Yoongi in a shit mood.

Yoongi curses under his breath. “Why couldn’t he get you a job at the cotton candy station or managing the photo booth or something?”

“What’s up with you lately? Do you really hate the idea of helping me that much?”

“It’s just annoying,” Yoongi huffs childishly from under the blanket.

“Fine, I’ll just ask Jungkook, then.”

“No! Wait!” Your eyes flash with hope. “I’ll do it. Just—don’t bother him. Since he already gave you the job, I mean.”

“Oh, thank god. I felt really bad about asking him for even more help.”

You turn around and pull out a face painting kit from thin air and begin scooting the desk chair towards the bed. When you’re close enough, you frown.

“What?” Yoongi sniffs at his sheets for good measure. All clean.

“Nothing. It’s just...” You look down at the ground and then the chair and then at Yoongi before looking at the chair again. “I usually practice on shorter surfaces so I can get used to working with the kids.”

“Oh, just pull the little lever underneath the chair. Raising and lowering the chair is Hoseok’s favorite thing to do when he comes in here, I swear.”

You reach under the seat like Yoongi instructed, find the little lever, and tug. There’s a low hissing sound before the seat suddenly drops 5 inches. You let out a yelp while Yoongi tries to stifle a laugh at your terrified expression.

“I guess—I guess Hoseok pulled the lever too much,” Yoongi’s voice creaks with laughter. Even when you flick him in the forehead he keeps laughing.

“Yoongi, this isn’t funny. I need to practice.”

“Just so you know there’s no way I’m getting on the floor. I’ve changed my clothes and I’m actually in the bed.”

He knows he’s being a bit of a dick at the moment, but he’s only trying to rile you up. He’s not expecting you to start to get up on the bed after flipping him off. The laundry he placed on his bed that morning to force himself to fold now laughs at him from its position shoved against the wall.

“W-what are you doing?”

“I need to be higher than you to paint your face. And you’re not getting up, right?”

“Well, no. But—”

“So this is where I’m gonna work.”

You shrug like it’s not a big deal that you’re straddling him. Like it’s not a big fucking deal that your soft thighs now rest on either side of his torso, that you casually rest a hand on his ribcage while setting up the painting kit along his sternum. He hopes your hand stays further south only to prevent the rapid beating of his heart from being discovered under your palm.

“What design do you want,” your voice is quiet now that you’re closer.

Makes sense. No need to yell. But it still drives Yoongi crazy that you’re basically whispering in his ear as you lean over him to grab at the unused cup of water behind the bed frame. You revive your paints with the water while he tries to keep his breathing in check, lest he cause your paints to tumble off his torso and stain his sheets in a pastel rainbow.

“Uhh, how about an old style tiger?”

“Really,” you deadpan, “I tell you I’m just starting to learn to paint and you ask for a tiger?”

“Fine. Stars, then.” He gulps when you look right at him, face flushing to create the perfect pink canvas.

“Oh, I can do that. No reference needed.”

It seems deadly quiet in Yoongi’s room. The sounds of the living room long since died down when a crowd favorite started playing and captured everyone’s attention. Now there’s only yours and his intermingled breathing and the sound of your brush tinkling against glass.

You lean down from your perch to focus on carving out a swatch of night sky to blanket Yoongi’s stars. Your breath softly puffs low against his left cheek at the same moment the wet tip of the paintbrush hits his skin. His breath hitches a little and he’s not sure which is the culprit.

“Hold still, okay?” Your words come out in a whisper.

“Okay,” he whispers back.

Minutes pass and two shaky stars are born on Yoongi’s cheekbone. You shift around on his chest to stabilize yourself and in your movement you lose your footing a little, your right leg slipping off the edge of the mattress.

“Ah—”

“I got you,” Yoongi grunts a little as his hands fly to your hips.

He easily stops your momentum and your paints, clutched desperately in your hands, remain safe from the ground. The pads of his fingers are still dug lightly into the meat of your hips and waist. In that moment you remember just how big Yoongi’s hands are.

“T-thanks.”

“No problem.”

A slow grin spreads on Yoongi’s face when he notices that suddenly you can’t make eye contact like you were just a few moments prior.

You do your best to continue, but your gaze keeps flitting to his, only to find that he’s already looking at you. It sets something hot aflutter in your chest. The points of the stars that you thought you had a handle on turn soft and wobbly once more.

“Look up,” you ask when you’re out of other options and keep having to paint over your work.

Yoongi has to bite his tongue to keep from chuckling at how jittery you seem. It feels good to know that the effects of this proximity are mutual, that you’re feeling just as lightheaded from sitting in his lap as he is from having you sit in it.

“You almost done?” He drawls. He’s been counting the small irregularities in the paint on his ceiling to keep entertained.

“Uh, yeah, almost.”

He feels the cold kiss of the brush tip once, twice more before it returns to its makeshift home of the water glass with a clink.

“Do you...wanna see what it looks like,” you sit up then.

There’s a small hand mirror across the room that you’re eyeing. But he stops you with a squeeze to your hips, reminding you that his hands have been resting there this whole time.

“Just use my phone,” he nods to the device lying abandoned in the sheets. “Take a picture.”

“Okay.”

For some reason, your hands are shaking even with the paintbrush gone and the need for focus lifted. Mechanically you wake Yoongi’s phone from sleep and access the camera app to take a photo, shifting your weight to your knees to get above him and snap a pic. Curiosity makes you open the photo album app to see the photo you just took instead of showing it to him first. The result takes your breath away.

Yoongi looks blissfully content, almost smugly so, as he gazes up at the camera. The stars under his eyes and on the bridge of his nose look like glowing yellow freckles amidst the banner of deep navy and rich purples you used to craft the sky across his cheekbones. The paint looks good and it’s probably even your best job yet, but you can’t help yourself from looking elsewhere.

Yoongi’s tousled bed head, soft sleep shirt, and dreamy eyes bring a cloud of butterflies to your stomach. The final killer touch of the photo is the fact that your knees just barely enter the bottom of the photo. Yoongi’s hands rest on each one like they belong there.

“Yoongi.” You breathe his name like a sigh and that’s when he surges up, as if to catch his name on your lips.

The kiss takes you by surprise and you tumble down to him in a soft pile of limbs. He hums a long, pleased sound when your weight settles on top of him. The hands he had on your knees suddenly grow restless and they amble up your thighs, up your waist, around your back. His hands are ever busy gliding over as much of you as they can in the moments that you let your lips press firmly against his.

Idly you pick out the details you notice with your eyes drifting closed. Yoongi’s breath leaves his nose in puffs against your face and his sighs echo quiet in your ears. His hair is soft between your fingers and so is the collar of the worn shirt that he’s wearing. The sheets that have raised around you like makeshift linen mountains smell just like Yoongi’s sweet soap, warmed with sleep.

“Shouldn’t we—”, he plants a kiss on your mouth, “shouldn’t we talk about this,” you mumble against his lips.

Yoongi’s hands stop in their tracks along the midpoint of your spine. The sigh he lets out is long suffering.

“Sorry. I just—I got carried away.”

“I mean, you don’t have to apologize for it. I just...thought you saw me as a friend.”

“Do friends confess their love for each other? That’s new.”

“L-love?” Your eyes turn wide and starry. “When have either of us ever confessed our love?”

“Well, I did. At the bar. Or did you have to block that memory out?”

Your brow furrows at the self-deprecating turn his smile takes and you clasp one of his still-wandering hands.

“You mean—Yoongi, I thought you were just being mushy. I thought you meant, like, ‘I love that we’re all here together as friends right now’. If I had known that was a real confession,” you trail off.

“You what?”

Yoongi’s mood elevates once more, enjoying the sudden turn your rambling is taking. Teasingly he bucks his hips under you, startling you out of your bashful silence and forcing you to press two hands to his chest for balance. A cute little sound leaves your lips and he’s tempted to do it again.

“You were saying,” he grins up at you and his hands start to wander once again.

“I would have—”

“Baby, speak up.” He’s all coos but there’s a little venom in his voice. He likes how embarrassed you are.

“I would have left with you that night. If I had known.”

His shirt wrinkles up where your fingers twist anxiously. Normally you trample through Yoongi’s space, no shame or hesitation in the way you leave him on his toes. It had always been a fun game for you to see how close you could get before he’d have to draw a line, before his besotted smile would become too hard to hide. But now you’re not so sure you can handle it directed at you in all its glory.

“That’s a nice idea,” he says.

In one moment he looks like he’s really weighing the idea, serious in his appraisal. The next moment he’s tugging you down when you least expect it, bringing a corner of the blanket to envelope you both. Under the cover of weak darkness, he threads a hand through the hair at the base of your neck.

“Why don’t you tell me about it?”

#btscreatorscorner #hyunglinenetwork #networkbangtan #bangtan scenarios #yoongi scenarios #yoongi fluff #yoongi imagines #yoongi fanfic #bangtan imagines #bangtan fanfic #bangtan fluff #bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts fanfic

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buzzz-09 · 2 months ago

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sp00kworm · 4 years ago

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Butterfly

Pairing: Jesse Cromeans / Chromeskull x Female Reader

Warnings: Slasher horror and gore

A/N: This fic is blocked from the tags but please enjoy! Reblogs are always appreciated. Gif is by me.

---

His home was lonely. Jesse looked at the clock, his eyes burning with the need to sleep, but his mind racing. It was late. Approaching eleven o’clock. He’d had to work today. His company didn’t run itself, and there was a lot of accounting and management to do outside of his little hobby. Jesse looked away from the clock and stretched his jaw, the bone clicking from where he was cracked around the face with the bat. The bone had healed rather easily, but it hurt from time to time. His face, that was mauled. He wasn’t the stud he used to be. Handsome, a straight jaw and high cheekbones. Cynically, he snorted at the picture on the mantle he had of him and his late wife. Mrs Cromeans clutched at his arm at some high-class party, her red lips spread in a smile to match Jesse’s smirk. The second was him kissing at her cheek as she pushed him away. Sentimental. He was feeling sentimental. He didn’t hate his wife. She was convenient. A life outside of his hobby. Pretty. He didn’t even know she was pregnant. The police informant he had revealed the death report tentatively to him. The unborn child inside her wasn’t old enough to be saved. An accident he never expected to occur. He’d been gone nearly 4 months, and she was pregnant. He didn’t remember a message, but then he tended to let Spann handle such things. He probably ignored it. Jesse stood from his black leather couch and walked to the mantle.

He took the picture in his hand. His face was partially cut off, the camera focused on his wife and her smile. Jesse looked at it before he leaned over and threw it on the fire. The glass shattered with the force of hitting the logs and the frame quickly burst into flames, black paint peeling off the wood as it crackled and snapped. The photos disappeared into curling pieces of charcoal and he watched the frame burn with a certain amount of upset. Sentiment, he reminded himself, as he pushed himself away from the mantlepiece and touched the tattoo on his chest. The shaded skull stared back at him with hollow eyes. It was a reminder of the urges he had. With a sigh, he touched at his arms and traced the patterns of screaming, swirling ghouls all the way down to his wrist before daring to stand up a little bit straighter. He reached for the laptop of his coffee table and opened a chat window with Spann. It took a moment for the secure connection to open properly.

Spann’s face appeared in the bottom corner, her tired eyes looking at him through the camera. She was still sat in the office, but she gave him a smile, “What can I do for you, Sir?” She asked as she shuffled the paperwork away.

Jesse made sure his face was out of frame, ‘Make sure there is a clean-up crew on standby.’

Spann peered at the text, “Of course, Sir. Where are you heading out to?” She asked curiously as her fingers whipped across the keyboard lightning fast, “You’ve been in Hollywood for a while now, have you finally taken a fancy to someone? You’ve not been as active as you once were.” She smiled, sickly sweet and twisted, just like she always did.

‘Just have the crew ready. I will text if I find something.’

“Of course. Have fun, Sir.” Spann nodded and he closed the chat window before disconnecting from all the rerouting services and opening the internet to have a look for a bar that suited his fancy. Something exclusive so he didn’t have to sit and be gawked at by people that could well lose their eyes. His good eye roved the names of bars before he spotted a club. He recognised the name. A mob boss run thing, he was sure, but it would mean he didn’t get stared at with a knife on his hip underneath his jacket. Perfect. Jesse snapped his laptop closed and headed upstairs for a shower and to get appropriately dressed up.

The hot water eased his sore back, but it hurt on the sensitive skin of his face. He covered his face with a hand to his forehead as he washed the smell and aches from himself. The soap was sensitive, and he carefully washed his face, making sure to get around his eyes, to avoid any form of gunky infections. Those had been hell when he was laid in the hospital bed recovering. Still, a great deal of more work on his face this past year had made him far more recognisable, but it wasn’t the same. He was still scarred and twisted, his nose looking rather out of place. He ran a finger over the rougher skin, where the scaring was worst, tracing back over his forehead from his eyebrow. They had managed to graft new muscle and replace areas that were damaged. He felt more human now, but nothing would ever replace how he used to appear. Still, Jesse had paid good money for his better face, and he would be damned if he didn’t use it a little. He turned off the shower and dripped in the wet room for a moment before he wrapped a towel around his waist and pulled his razor out to sheer the hair from his head. It was therapeutic. Jesse leaned over the water to catch the hair on the back of his head before he held his jaw and angled the mirror to check his face. Nothing grew anymore, but that didn’t stop him checking.

He turned the mirror to his face and stroked the newly constructed nose. It had been four months of healing this time around. Plastic surgery galore. He’d had mountains of work since his run in with Princess’ little friend. He almost resembled a person. Still, he was scarred, and his eyebrows no longer grew hair along with his jaw. He was still blind in one eye, the brown eye cloudy. Jesse plucked his eyepatch from the shelf and replaced it before brushing his perfect teeth. He had paid too much money for most of himself to neglect it. He towelled himself off and walked from the bathroom to his room, stark naked, stretching his back before he plucked out his designer black shirt, trousers, and jacket. Once he was dressed, he pulled on his oxfords and pulled his case from underneath the floorboards. Jesse undid the latches and peered inside. The chrome skull stared back at him, along with the polished knives he used to remove pieces of his victims. The box of gloves sat nestled in the top corner but he didn’t put any on for the time being, letting his tattooed hands breathe. He pushed his fists together and looked at the two words. The words ‘FEAR’ and ‘PAIN’ looked back at him. With a final adjustment of his cufflinks, he took his wallet from the nightstand and left his house, activating the alarm and locking the door before he opened his Chrysler 300 and slid into the roomy interior. The engine roared to life before he pulled away from the drive. Jesse rolled down the tinted window before he pushed his middle finger out of it, flagging the neighbours who glared at him from their windows.

The bar was half of a club with the back for exclusive clients, which ranged from those involved in mob work, to celebrities. Jesse tugged at the breast of his jacket as he let the eager doorman take his car around the back. He stopped him with a finger in the air and he unlocked his phone and typed into the speech app.

‘Open the trunk or my glovebox and I’ll have your fingers, bellboy.’

“Yes, Sir.” He swallowed as he climbed into the Chrysler, pulling it away smoothly into the back of the club. Jesse looked around, his silver mask shining in the gaudy lighting. The mob knew him. He was the one who moved the weapons through his shelter companies. He took care of some of their business, butchering people like pigs for them when they took his fancy, and in, exchange, they let him have his pick of their girls for his games. He stepped through the door and a bouncer waved at him from the curtain separating the areas. The bar went around both sides, but no one could see through the curtains. Jesse walked through the bar, passing a group of women in lingerie as the bouncer let him through the other side.

“Good to see you again.” He grunted, looking up at the man as he drew out his phone.

‘Did you miss me?’ Jesse snarked through the automatic voice.

“You’re hardly any trouble.” He tipped his head towards a booth, “Make yourself at home.”

Jesse walked past him and headed for his table, pulling the curtains back before he placed his briefcase down and slid inside, sighing with the low lighting. He relaxed back against the cushions and reached for the mask over his face. With a hum, he pushed his thumbs into the mild adhesive and plucked the piece of chrome free with a twist underneath his chin in order to apply a new layer.

It was quiet at this side of the bar, the curtains blocking out a lot of the noise and the people that he didn’t want to look at. Exclusive. Jesse ran his fingers over the leather of the couch and hummed at the quality before he tucked his case beside him. The knife strapped beneath his jacket wasn’t going to cause any problems here. Jesse pulled the case around and listened as the curtains rustled beside him. He was used to this. The silver skull turned to face the red fabric and Jesse lounged back on his seat as it parted to reveal the curious face of the bartender. He smiled behind his mask at the professional wear, a shirt and bowtie on. His eyes roved lower behind the black material over his eyes, looking at the short skirt attached. Perfect. He greedily took in the sight, laid back against the cushioning, and slid his phone from his pocket.

You nervously parted the curtains of the exclusive booth and poked your head inside. Great, you thought as you slid the notebook from your pocket, holding your pen in your hand as you tried not to stare at the silver mask leering ominously back at you. His head dipped to look at your legs, admiring the view.

“What can I get you, Sir.” You asked, pen poised to write on the paper, “Any food or are you just drinking?”

The man in the mask didn’t respond, but his fingers whizzed across the keyboard of the phone, typing out something across the screen. He turned the screen to show you the words, ‘Drink. A bottle of bourbon. The one at six hundred.’

“Okay. Do you want a glass and ice?” You asked carefully, watching as he tilted his masked face.

His fingers clicked rapidly across the keyboard again, ‘Two ice cubes. Crystal tumbler.’

You had his sort before, “Of course, Sir.” You ducked back out and replaced the curtains before you headed back towards the bar to grab the expensive, six-hundred-dollar bottle of bourbon whiskey.

Jesse watched you through a small parting in the curtain, eyes following your backside as you returned to your colleague at the bar. He made sure to drop the curtain back into place as you turned from the bar and headed back towards him.

“Your drink, and your glass.” You placed the bottle and the tumbler down in front of the chrome-faced man and watched his tattooed fingers twitch against the leather as he leaned over to inspect what you had brought him.

Lazily, he took hold of the bottle neck, and peered at the label before he nodded and typed rapidly on the phone again, ‘Thanks. Run along, Piggy.’

You nodded and left his booth alone, catching a glimpse of tattooed hands pouring a drink as the red curtain closed behind you.

“Rude asshole.” You muttered under your breath as you headed back towards the bar, where you were needed on the other side, with the normal clientele of the bar. They were perhaps worse than the questionable celebrities and mobsters of the exclusive side, but you could cope with serving the sex workers and incredibly drunk men.

Joe gave you a look of concern as you came back through the curtain. He was an old man and had worked at the bar since he was young. He knew the sorts that tended to frequent the establishment. He leaned over towards you as you threw some glasses in the box for cleaning.

“Don’t fuck with that one.” He whispered, “The Boss doesn’t like him here, but he puts up with it. Rumour is he’s a bit of a knife for hire. Tends to get those jobs that required someone gutting for a video.” Joe scowled and rubbed at his moustache, “Stay far away and keep him happy with drinks.”

“Thanks, Joe.” You uttered before you served a beer, “What’s with the mask?”

Joe shook his head, “Best not to ask.” He then left you alone as you pulled pints of beer for a group. It wasn’t long before you swapped again into the back, smiling as you peered at the booths. You frowned as the curtain to the stranger’s flickered and he waved his hand before he curled his finger towards himself and pushed the phone through.

“Come here.” The automated voice called ominously, and you took a deep breath before you opened the bar door and headed towards the booth again, your notepad in hand. You parted the curtain and smiled at the mysterious man.

What you saw shocked you a little. He’d taken the mask off, revealing his scarred face to you. You tried not to stare, you really did. Awkwardly, you maintained the smile as he stared up at you, brown eyes dark as though he was daring you to say a word. One was covered with an eyepatch.

The phone clicked away before the screen was presented, ‘Entertain me.’ The voice was absent this time.

You read the words and frowned, “I can offer you a food menu or a different drink, Sir.” You replied quietly, dreading the next words that were going to come out of his mouth, “Unfortunately we don’t have any live music…and other options are not in my job description.”

Tattooed fingers curled against the leather before he grinned, exposing, bright, white teeth in a vicious smile. His chest jumped before he gave out a breathy, long chuckle. He curled his finger again for you to properly step into the booth.

He typed on the phone again before holding it up for you to see, ‘I don’t want you to suck my cock. Sit. Talk.’

Suddenly, you felt a little bit stupid, “Talk? What about?” You were still suspicious of the man.

‘Your boss. He owes me something. I want to know more.’ He turned the phone back to himself and typed again, ‘Ever mention ChromeSkull?’

Suddenly, you realised who he was. The personalised plates out the back of the bar, and the chromed mask in his lap. This was a dangerous man. Still, he was very capable of ending you now, with no one there to see.

“He doesn’t talk about business in the bar.” You swallowed nervously, “He only said he hoped he never saw your face in here again.” Your gut dropped as you realised either way, you might die.

‘Thanks, sweet thing.’ He typed and showed you before continuing, ‘Call me Jesse.’ You watched his face smile again and suddenly you realised that once he was very handsome. It looked like acid or chemical burn scarring. The mob liked to disfigure people as pay back sometimes, but you had an inkling his weren’t inflicted by the mafia.

‘What’s your name?’ He pushed the screen before your eyes as his fingers danced over the leather.

You cleared your throat and told him, “So are you here for payback?”

‘Something like that.’ He replied on screen, ‘Better company this time.’

Flattering but you still wanted out of the conversation. There wasn’t an opportunity to, however, because as you stood up to straighten yourself out, your boss walked into the booth.

Judgemental eyes roved you up and down, spotting you playing with your skirt. Jesse was quick to turn and replaced his mask, before your boss could see, the medical adhesive painted along the seams and the area of his nose. He turned back to look at Antony, the owner, with the haunting black eyes of the chrome skull mask peering through him.

“Making yourself at home with my staff?” Antony shot as he pulled a cigarette from between his lips, his face twisted with a glare, “Pretty sure you’re not welcome here anymore.” He dragged a hand through his slicked back, brown hair and snarled viciously before he returned the cigarette to his lips for another nervous drag.

Jesse’s mask tilted before he pointed a finger through the curtains and let the automated voice speak for him, “Justin had no issue letting me in, Antony.” He continued, “Plus, you owe me.”

“If this is about that fucking weapons crate again. I swear to God I didn’t know it was rigged to blow.” He dragged on his cigarette again.

“You lost me a factory, Antony.” The automatic voice droned hauntingly, “And I still haven’t had the compensation.”

“You’ll get your money, shit face.” Antony’s hand twitched for his jacket.

You panicked as Antony took a seat across from Jesse, his fingers steepled under his chin. It was tense, and you began to panic as Jesse loomed over in the man’s personal space. He was a giant, solid wall of power, and you instinctively took a step back.

Antony clicked at you, “Drinks. Pour them. One for our guest here too.” You nodded and dashed for another glass for Antony before shakily taking the bottle in your hand and pouring both of them shots.

Jesse ignored the drink as he took his silver briefcase and slammed it on top of the table. The wood shuddered under the force of the blow and you jumped as he snapped open the clips.

“Put your fucking knives away, Cromeans.” Antony scoffed.

Jesse slid his first, sharp hunting knife free from his hip and you swallowed as he took a camera from the case. The device had a stand that clipped to his shoulder and he snapped the little tripod on before tapping the top. A red light blinked on. Recording.

“Oh, so you’ve come for something to play with?” Antony laughed, “There’s a toy stood right next to you. Be my fucking guest!” He exclaimed.

You gave a squeak as Jesse’s large hands grappled you by the waist, dragging you into his lap, your legs pinned between his own as he breathed down your neck. He trapped you as he reached for the box of black nitriles in his case. Methodically, he peeled one free at a time and tugged them over the black tattoos covering his hands. The black nitrile traced the edge of one knife before he span it once, twice, and then placed the edge of the blade against your neck. Your breath caught in your throat at the cold press of metal against your soft skin. His other hand trailed over the skin, his hot breath tickling your ear before he swiped the knife up and dragged the sharp side through your hair. You listened to him inhale before, tauntingly, he made a kissing noise next to your ear. The blade was replaced against your throat as he typed on the phone once more.

“I catch my own fish.” The voice droned before Jesse shook the phone teasingly in front of you, showing you the text he had typed out, ‘Though I don’t think I want to play with you, piggy. You’re too much of a deer.’

Antony scowled, “What the fuck does that mean…” He howled in agony as Jesse flicked the blade around again and slammed it through his hand. The fingers twitched before he drew his other knife and sliced the appendages free, pinning you in place with his legs as he watched blood spurt over the wood.

Shock. You felt your heart burn as you wiggled backwards, closer to the killer’s chest before he peeled you free from his lap and dropped you back into the booth. Gruffly, Jesse slammed his bloodied hand over Antony’s mouth.

‘This piggy should have stayed home.’ His phone droned, again and again as the giant stood up, touching the tip of the hunting knife as he admired the shine of blood over the cold steel. With another flourish, he turned the saw half downwards and wrestled Antony over the wood, pinning him with a slam of his head before he dragged the saw downwards and watched skin and muscle part. He paused when Antony passed out and left the knife embedded in the man’s wrist as he looked back at you.

‘Look away.’ He typed with his clean hand. You did as you were asked, fear making you want to cry. He sawed the hand free and looked at the hand left, pinned to the table before he pealed his gloves free and brushed the bottom of your chin.

“Look alive, sunshine.” The voice chittered, “Get moving.” It continued.

You opened your eyes and Jesse was quick to turn you away from the mess over the table.

“Up. Walk. Back exit.” The phone said. With a shuddering sigh, you got up. Jesse’s mask tilted before he offered his arm. You hooked your arm through his and almost cried as he shut the curtains and blocked you from the view of the other bar staff with his towering figure. His video was still recording.

“Why did you…” You were cut off by a sharp grip.

Jesse didn’t speak until you were both outside, his keys in one hand, snatched from the storage and his phone held up to you in the other, “I taught them a lesson. They don’t fuck with me and get away with it.” He offered before he dragged you over to his car. You looked at the custom plates and the expensive brand. He laid his briefcase on the bonnet and sighed as he peeled free the chrome covered mask. Beneath was the same as before, heavily operated on with taught skin. A few scars were deep and heavy. His eye that was previously covered with an eyepatch was open, revealing itself as almost blind, the brown iris milky and covered. Still, he wasn’t a monster, just disfigured and evidently, through all the surgery, unhappy about what had occurred.

“Staring is rude.” The phone whirred, “Should be staring elsewhere, sugar tits.”

You felt yourself go red, “You just killed a man! You don’t have any right to flirt with me after you just made me an accessory to murder!” You flew off the handle, “And now you’re taking me out back to end me too!”

Jesse grinned, white teeth clenched together dangerously as his knife curled and span idly, looking you up and down. He held up the phone nonchalantly, “No I’m not. I’m taking you home.”

“You…You’re joking.” You took a step backwards only for him to grab you once again, breathing in the smell of your hair as his knife traced down your chest. With a flick of his wrist he popped a button off your shirt.

His phone appeared in front of you again, ‘Home address.’

You swallowed and repeated your address for him quietly. He hummed behind you, the knife disappearing before he turned you to face him. His face dipped down to meet yours as he laid a single kiss over your lips.

‘Let’s go for a ride, baby.’

#jesse cromeans x reader #chromeskull x reader #chromeskull #jesse cromeans #laid to rest #laid to rest 2 #laid to rest (2009)#chromeskull: laid to rest 2 #my writing #female reader #reader insert #jesse cromeans x female reader #chromeskull x female reader

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imaginesforjohnnydepp · 5 years ago

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Architectural Digest (Power Couple extended imagine)

for @karlacce4 @takemepedropascal

Inside Johnny Depp and Y/N Y/L/N’s Stunning $1.9M New Orleans Home! - Article by Rita Joseph, November 2018

A casually dressed Y/N opens the door on a bright and sunny but chilly Friday afternoon. The Golden Globe nominated actress is just as stunning makeup free and in an old college sweatshirt and jeans and her hair pulled back from her face as she is in expensive designer gowns and jewelry; right behind her is her husband Johnny Depp and their dog Jack Sparrow. “Hey, come on in!” Immediately, I’m greeted with warmth and the scent of cinnamon. The entrance is narrow, and there is a wooden table next to the door with a small bowl which hold two sets of car keys, but there are two doorways across from each other: on the left is the sitting room, and on my right is the dining room with its painted blue walls contrasted with white curtains and a chandelier hanging above the table.

We start with the sitting room which holds a lime green couch adding a nice touch of color against the white walls. There is also a gold ceiling lamp and a glass coffee table. “This is our sitting room, but we use it for a little bit of everything, like a storage room or sometimes a guest would want to sleep in here when they visit because it’s so quiet as opposed to upstairs because we still have teenagers, and there’s a lot of banging around in the morning getting ready for school, or we’ll have friends over.” Those friends would include Brad and Angelina (before the divorce), Tim Burton and Eva Green, Helena Bonham Carter, and Depp’s Hollywood Vampires band mates Joe Perry and Alice Cooper. What great company to keep!

From the sitting room we head into the dining room. “We actually painted the dining room a week after we moved in. All of the walls in the house were white and we thought it was way too much, so we decided to paint it a different color,” Depp said. “The tables and chairs actually belonged to Y/N’s sister and we bought it off her in ‘07 when she moved to another city, and that couch in the other room we bought after Nathan and Noelle’s first birthday.” “It was their favorite thing to play on when they were babies. So hard to believe that was 2004,” Y/L/N reminisced. The blue walls are decorated with a few of Depp’s paintings with a molding of a deer’s head that Y/N got at a flea market.

As we exit out of the dining room, I get a good look at the other side of the wall facing the staircase as we go into the living room. The entire wall is covered in a black and white photo of a jazz band taken at a Mardi Gras parade a few years ago, and there is a nice sized wine cabinet which is the size of a recording booth with only one bottle of wine in it; Johnny has cut back on drinking, but still enjoys a glass of wine every now and then. “I’m not as young as I used to be, and I’m runnin’ around on stage all night so I want to be as healthy as possible when I’m performing and to see the rest of my babies grow up.” The rest of his babies would be Nathan and Noelle, fraternal twins born in 2003. Their oldest kids include 26-year-old Star Wars star John Christopher III, born in 1992, and 22-year-old The Greatest Showman actress Camille.

The living room is gorgeous but simple; an all white leather reclining sectional with built in cup holders surrounds a small wooden coffee table in front of the fireplace which has a flat screen television above it. There’s a chandelier in this room as well, similar to the one in the dining room, and the wooden table behind the sectional breaks up the whiteness of the room. “This is where everyone spends the majority of their time. Morning, noon, night, weekends, we are here, with the older kids when they come over for dinner on Sundays. They’ll come over in the afternoon and stay the whole day.” Even with the oldest kids moved out and with houses of their own, the Depps are still a close knit family with Camille and John Christopher, or Three as he’s called by friends and family, living minutes away. Depp family favorite weekend activity? “Cooking breakfast together and then going to the nearby park or to a flea market or farmers’ market. There’s always something to do do in the city so you’re never bored,” the Dark Shadows actor explained.

When I asked them why they decided to move away from Hollywood, it was an easy answer. Y/L/N said: “we wanted to give them a normal childhood, and you can’t really have that when there are people taking pictures of you in your school uniform heading into school.” The couple moved to the Big Easy before Johnny began filming the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie in 2002, and speaking of cooking, the kitchen is next, and it is every homeowner’s dream. The white marble kitchen island doubles as a sink with its clear backed chairs and a sleek gold light fixture hanging above. A few feet away is a rectangular table with four shelves.

“This is my favorite room. I’m always cooking, and this is pretty much multipurpose room. We do game nights, eat meals, the twins do homework here.” When I joked about the chandeliers, the two only laughed, with Y/N adding, “you’re gonna be seeing a lot of chandeliers in this house. I loved them as a child and always wanted one. Or thirteen. We actually got each of them at Home Depot or Wayfair, and they look good in every room.” At this point, Jack Sparrow begins barking and runs to the front door (the dog, not Depp who plays the beloved swashbuckler). Noelle and Nathan are home from school and they follow the dog into the kitchen.

They are taken aback as they take in the camera man, as they wash their hands in the sink before reaching for the snacks. “Oh, I thought this was happening tomorrow,” Noelle remarks as she reaches for a bag of trail mix from a cabinet and a bottle of water from the fridge. “You have drivers ed tomorrow,” Y/N instantly in mom mode. “And your uniforms are hanging up in the laundry room.” Johnny and Y/N are athlete parents with Nathan playing on his school football team while Noelle is a cheerleader. After getting an okay from the twins to tour their rooms, we head upstairs after the examining the wall of pictures in the upstairs hallway.

Some pictures that have never been made public: a tired looking Y/N in a hospital bed after giving birth to their children, followed by a procession of school portraits and certificates from school. John Christopher and Camille’s graduation and prom pictures. Family outings at the near by park which featured a heavily pregnant Y/N circa early 2000s. A picture of Depp’s late mother Betty Sue and Y/N’s Aunt Claudia smiling as they played cards. And then there were the family portraits.

One that started with John Christopher as a newborn in 1992, then adding Camille in 1996, followed by the twins in 2003. Black and white photos of grandparents and great-grandparents, photos of Depp and Y/L/N ancestors, and the framed Polaroids of Y/N and Depp in Vegas on their honeymoon, after they eloped in summer 1991 after less than a year of dating, and I had to ask the question that’s still on peoples’ minds years later: why elopement? “We were young and didn’t want to go through the process of planning a wedding. I proposed a day after meeting her aunt and uncle and two days later we were married.” You remember that day like it was yesterday; you and Johnny went on vacation to visit your aunt and uncle so they could meet him for the first time as your boyfriend. They loved him, of course and at that point, you’ve only been dating for four months and it was getting serious to the point where Johnny called you his future wife and mother of his children in interviews (which probably wouldn’t be too distant in the future since your period was late). He proposed the night before you left for L.A. after your aunt and uncle had gone to bed and you immediately said yes.

After settling back home, you two took a road trip to Las Vegas the very next day and twenty seven years later, you’re still very much in love. I asked them why move to New Orleans, to which Depp answered: “Y/N was filming a movie here after Three was born, and when I came to visit her with the baby, I think it was during Mardi Gras, we had an amazing time. The food was just incredible, and the people were amazing, and no one gave a fuck about who we were. Once Camille was born, we kept coming back as much as we could, and we decided we wanted to build a life here.” The first room we enter after reaching the landing is the master bedroom. The walls are painted a nice gray, and, you guessed it, a chandelier. “This is our room, where we rarely get any sleep because we have the kids always running in and out for whatever reason--”

“And we also climb into bed with them too,” Noelle interjects. “And other times we just do it to annoy them,” Nathan backs up his sister’s statement. The bathroom is gorgeous with a white tiled floor; the shower stall is in a corner next to Y/N’s vanity, and across from it is a jacuzzi tub set next to a window that had a few candles along the edge, and adjacent from the tub is a double sink. “This is our bathroom, and we do more unwinding here than the bedroom. Whenever one of us comes home from filming or press tours or whatever, we’re in the tub, probably falling asleep.” Next we move to Noelle’s room and it’s something out of a Pintrest board

Pretty pastel pinks and fluffy white rugs and throws with a nice swing chair in a corner, which she calls her reading nook. Black and white framed pictures of her mom from her modeling days as a teenager and pictures of friends and family fill in space on her walls. “Every piece of furniture came from either Wayfair or Overstock. They have such great deals on furniture and rugs, and I’m always scrolling through their websites.” Nathan’s room is a typical boy’s room. It’s a cool gray scale vibe with a portion of the wall behind his bed painted black and there are shelves on either side of the bed filled with books, picture frames and sports trophies. “Dad and I repainted this wall almost a month ago. The sun shines so bright in the mornings and it’s always a pain, and I love when a room is cold and dark.”

He admits to sleeping with the fan on at night, even in the winter. There’s a sleek desk in the corner that holds a laptop and a stack of books, and next to it, against the wall, is a decent sized book shelf. Nathan likes to read, a trait that he and the rest of his siblings picked up from their parents. He and Noelle are having a competition to see who could read the most books by the end of the year. The next room is a low ceilinged guest room which is where Depp’s mother Betty Sue lived her last days.

“This used to be Grandma Betty’s room. Jack comes in here all the time, and we’d find him just laying on the bed,” Nathan says, touching a portrait of his grandmother. The next room is pretty much a music studio, as there’s a drum kit, bass guitars, electric guitars, and a keyboard. The walls are covered with the kids’ school art projects over the years. The room is frequented by Depp’s band the Hollywood Vampires whenever they blow into town, where they write and record new music, and Noelle receives guitar lessons from her father and Cooper. The last room we reach is a game room/homemade home movie theater.

There’s a nice flat screen on the wall and plastic storage bins containing video games, game controllers, and DVDs; Noelle used the room to host a sleepover a few weeks ago, and Nathan and his friends used it to launch water balloons at the neighborhood boys during the summer, which he realizes he makes a mistake in admitting this in front of his parents. Finally we come to the last part of the tour, the backyard which holds a patio and a swimming pool. “I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but we were using the pool up until a week ago. During the spring and summer months, we’ll invite the neighbors over for barbecues or they’ll invite us.” It’s November, and Thanksgiving is a week away. The entire Depp family plans on spending the holiday at the Kentucky ranch Johnny bought for his mother with his siblings. Before we leave, Y/N offers me and the camera man Justin a snack of green tea and cinnamon rolls ushering us politely out of the door so they could have dinner and get ready for Nathan’s game.

The video is now up on architecturaldigest.com and on our YouTube channel.

The video is uploaded on YouTube to great reviews; the viewers love how down to earth and humble you are and that you didn’t spend a ton of money on furniture and other unnecessary miscellaneous items in the house while others wish they had a room like Noelle’s when they were teenagers. The comments range from: i’m a simple person. i see johnny depp’s name and i click on it-user26. i love how they live in a normal looking house in a normal neighborhood. i’m so glad they raised their kids outside of hollywood because john christopher and camille are the most humble nepo kids in the industry and always acknowledge their privilege. can’t say the same for others.- user89. When is Noelle gonna start her modeling career?- user85. i love how close they all are and that they live so close together to where they can get together on the weekends.- user63

dying at the looks johnny and y/n gave nathan when he said he and his friends threw water balloons out the window.- user14. when tf did the twins get so big??? why wasn’t i warned???- user 78. why do noelle and nathan get to look like they just stepped out of a j crew catalog after a day at school but i look like i got beat within an inch of my life by 4th period? - user52

#johnny depp imagines #johnny depp x reader #johnny depp imagine

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monstersandmaw · 5 years ago

Text

Male lizardfolk x female reader (nsfw) *Commission*

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

A commission for @ivymemnoch, featuring a nerdy lizardfolk boy (colouring/design based on a European green lizard) and a tall reader. This is the first of my five commissions to be completed and posted on here, and since it’s a paid commission, it doesn’t get early release on Patreon. Enjoy!

8144 words, no warnings, only fluff, some geekery, and some nsfw at the end. I will add though that I discovered that snakes aren’t the only reptiles to have two penises... lizards do too.

---

After a draining, all-day session in the recording studio, the last thing you wanted was to step out of the soundproofed booth and hear the relentless thrumming of raindrops on the windows.

The producer called over to you, briefly drawing your attention away from the foul weather, and grinned. “That was great! You really nailed her character. I think we can press on with the next section on Monday.” The sphinx smiled at you and stretched slightly before adding, “You have a good weekend now. Rest that voice of yours!”

You smiled and turned to look out of the nearest window with a grimace sliding onto your face. “Ugh. What a day to leave my umbrella behind,” you muttered. “Anyway, see you.”

Lingering just a moment more in the doorway of the recording studio, you eyed the rain and then - resigned to smelling like a wet werewolf - made a dash for it. Three seconds after you’d left the building, it doubled in strength and began to thrash down. Up ahead, still illuminated despite the fact that it was after five o’clock, was a shop you’d often thought about going in, but had never made time to venture inside. With an indignant squawk as the universe nudged you not-so-gently towards the comic book store by dripping water down your collar, you hurtled across the empty street, splashing through rapidly-forming puddles, and shot inside, soaked.

Standing on the mat for a moment, you shivered and gazed around at the room beyond. The walls were lined with bookshelves containing relatively ordinary looking books, and in the centre of the room was a lower stand displaying comics. On the top of this shelf, however, was a small army of figurines from a plethora of games and movies, and as you spotted a favourite of yours, you grinned. This place was nerd nirvana.

At the back of the room, surrounded as if in a shrine by a small alcove dedicated to arts and crafts and prop-making supplies for tabletop games, was the counter and cash register. The figure sitting behind it had looked up as you burst into his slice of peaceful heaven and the movement of his colourful head drew your eye over to him. Tall, slim but clearly muscular, with lime green skin speckled with gold and a wash of vibrant blue across his throat and up his cheeks towards friendly, golden eyes, the lizardfolk looking at you in mild surprise was frankly gorgeous.

You blinked stupidly for a second and then blurted, “I promise not to drip on any of the books.”

He grinned, a wide, warm smile that showed a row of pointed white teeth. “Appreciate it,” he said. His amber, unblinking gaze shifted to the rain and he said, “Gods, it’s really throwing it down out there.”

“Yup. I didn’t make it more than a hundred yards from work before bolting for cover. Nice place to duck into though,” you added, eyeing the figurines and graphic novels around you.

“You work near here?” he asked, setting down the tiny model he’d been painting. His clawed fingers were surprisingly slender and delicate.

You nodded. “Currently, at least. I’m a voice actor. The recording studio is just round the corner.”

“Sweet!” he exclaimed. “You voiced any characters I might know?”

You shrugged. “Maybe? I mean, Eliana from Ice Dragon Chronicles is probably the one I’m most known for? Mostly it’s just small parts for all sorts of things though. She was a rare break…”

“No way!” he breathed, “That’s awesome! Oh wow…” and he practically giggled with delight. His blue throat flushed a darker, more vibrant colour too. “That’s so cool. I’m sorry - you probably just wanted to browse in peace, or even just stay out of the rain. I’m sorry.”

Laughing softly, you said, “You know what? I’ve always wanted to check this place out, but I don’t really know where I’d start… I’ve read a few Manga, but I’d like to try a graphic novel…”

He stood, revealing just how tall he was. You were pretty tall yourself, for a human, but he stood easily a head higher than you. He blinked slowly and grinned, twitching his head towards the shelves along the walls. “Here’s one I always recommend to get people started. I warn you though, it’s a slippery slope… If you like this one, you’ll be obsessed in no time. I’m Bik, by the way.”

“I think I can handle it,” you smiled and he chuckled, handing you a slim but beautifully designed book with a dragon on the front and a female knight on a chestnut charger.

The art style was gorgeous and the writing seemed pretty good quality too, and as you leafed through the first few pages, you found yourself drawn in to the story about the female knight and the dragon. Finally you glanced up at him and said, “I’m assuming you don’t want me to read it all here right now…”

“It’d be nice if you bought it,” he grinned playfully.

He’d just reached out to take it from you when the door opened and a hunch-shouldered werewolf pushed inside, having just shaken the worst of the weather off on the doorstep all over their companion. The person behind her was a tiny, slender, and extraordinarily pretty young woman with pastel lilac hair that for some reason looked natural rather than dyed. Despite her almost innocent, childlike looks, she seemed decidedly furious about the soggy insult from the werewolf. In turn behind them came a figure who would have blotted out the daylight in the doorway had there been any to speak of outside.

You’d never met a hobgoblin before, and you tried not to stare as he lumbered in after the other two who had come to an abrupt halt at the sight of Bik and you standing together with your new graphic novel between you. The grin on the werewolf’s face made you think of feeding time at the zoo, and Bik clearly noticed it because his lithe tail swished a few times behind him in annoyance.

“Shall I take that for you?” Bik asked, offering his elegant hand again for the book and leading you over to the till so that you could pay for it.

You smiled and nodded, aware that the small group behind you were muttering between themselves. Bik was obviously aware of it as well, and seemed irritated by it, though you weren’t sure why. As you fished out the right money from your wallet, he muttered, “My D&D group… We meet every Friday. I’m sorry about them.”

“They seem nice,” you smiled, trying to reassure him. “You know, I’ve never played.”

“Really?” he asked, his golden eyes flashing brightly for an instant.

You shook your head and took the book from him, sliding it into your bag to keep it dry. “One thing at a time, eh?” you grinned before he could invite you to join in and he laughed.

“Hope to see you back again,” he added sheepishly. “There are some others I can recommend to you, whether you like that one or not.”

You nodded. He seemed so cute with the way he tilted his head and blinked his big eyes every now and again. His colouring was also astonishingly pretty, looking like a mosaic of gold and green all along his back, with that vibrant zing of blue around his throat. “I’m sure I’ll see you soon,” you said as you turned to go, and you really meant it.

While you were walking down the row of books towards the door, grateful that the rain seemed to have lessened considerably, you heard the werewolf dig her friend in the ribs and mutter, “Talk about your type!”

“Shut up,” Bik hissed. “Or she won’t come back.”

Of course, you did find yourself returning to his shop, though not on a Friday evening. You were sure his friends were nice, but you weren’t really there to meet them; at least, not just yet.

Bik’s face lit up when you stepped inside and he hopped down off the counter where he’d been sitting like a naughty schoolboy, swinging his legs and reading a comic which sat in his lap. “You came back!” he chirruped as he set it aside and came over. He wore tight-fitting jeans with a big hole tailored in the back for the thick root of his tail, and a blue t-shirt with a faded print on.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” you asked, aiming for playful but still coming across as a little shy, perhaps even coy. “You said you had more recommendations for me…”

“You liked it then?”

“Loved it! The twist at the end was amazing.”

His toothy grin made your stomach flip over and you glanced away as a blush rose up your cheeks.

You spent the next half an hour dissecting every detail about the first book he’d recommended, and from there, he chose three others that might suit.

Over the next few weeks, you returned to the shop regularly, and on one blustery August afternoon, you found him preparing some props for his next D&D session. Instead of talking books, you asked him about them, and he tilted his head in that adorable way he had, glancing over the half-finished figurines and what looked like a maquette of an old castle ruin or something.

“Did you make that too?” you asked, and he nodded.

“Yeah. It helps with the game, but honestly I just enjoy making stuff…”

“They’re beautiful! You could work in the props department at a film company or something.”

His blue throat became so vibrant in contrast with his lime green skin that it almost hurt to look at him, and he half turned away. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I get a lot of free time in the shop; fellow nerds aren’t too thick on the ground here, if you know what I mean. Hey, listen,” he added, scratching the back of his head with a clawed finger. “I’ve… uh… I’ve been wondering if maybe you’d like to come along to a session one day? You don’t have to take part or anything if you don’t want to, and we are, like, halfway through this campaign, but if you wanted to you could fill in for one of the NPCs or something… But… uh…” He trailed off, embarrassed and picked up one of the half-finished mimic chests on the counter top.

You watched as he turned it over in his delicate fingers and then chuckled. “You know what? I’d love to.”

At that, he dropped it and spun back around. “You’re serious?”

“Sure! Why not?” you asked, stooping to pick it up and handing it back to him. “Should I bring snacks?”

“Oh my god, could you get any more perfect!” he blurted and then laughed, staring down at the miniature mimic in his hands as if hoping that it might just eat him up on the spot. “Snacks would be amazing, but you don’t have to. Usually we take it in turns to bring something. It’s Oleander’s turn this Friday.”

“Oleander?”

“I don’t know if you remember her, but she’s the tiny one with the purple hair. She’s half fae and all sass. She bakes the most amazing sugar cookies though…”

“Got a sweet tooth then?” you asked and he nodded.

“Duly noted. Tell me about the others? Was the big one a hobgoblin?”

Bik nodded. “Yeah, that’s Jos. He’s kind of shy, but he’s great once you get to know him. He’s playing this tiny elven bard, and she’s -” he broke off, realising he was about to go off on a long and potentially quite boring waffle about their characters. Clearing his throat, he said instead, “Anyway, so yeah, that’s Jos. The werewolf is Emma. She’s… a bit brash and loud at times, but she means well.”

“How do you guys all know each other?” you asked, moving over to examine the figurines on the counter while he talked.

“From school, actually,” he laughed, setting the mimic back down. “It’s the typical - stereotypical I guess - thing of a bunch of rejects forming a bit of a ragtag band, and we’ve just been best mates ever since.”

With a fond smile, you firmly agreed to come to their next session.

You showed up with a bag of cookies, not wanting to seem tight but equally not wanting to try and one-up the resident baker in the group. You were also running a tad late after the recording session had run over, and the door was locked when you arrived at quarter past seven, and you had to bang on the glass repeatedly until Bik scuttled out to rescue you.

“I’m so sorry!” he said as he stepped to one side and let you in. “I thought I left it off the latch for you! I should also have given you my number. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine!” you laughed as he cringed. “But I wouldn’t say no to having your number…”

He went still and then smiled.

You followed him into a storage room at the back of the shop which had been decked out with flickering LED candles, and in the centre of the room was a round table set up for their game. They hadn’t really started yet, and Oleander was, to your surprise, sitting in Jos’ lap. He pecked her affectionately on the top of the head and picked her up, setting her back down on the ground. The werewolf, Emma, snuffed at the air and turned around, tail wagging from between the slats of her chair.

“Hey!” she grinned, leaping up and stepping over to hug you. “I’m sorry. I’m a hugger. You made it though! And…” and she sniffed ostentatiously, “And you brought goodies!”

“I couldn’t not bring goodies,” you chuckled, handing the modest bag of cookies to Bik.

“Tibikthio,” Emma said in a mock-formal tone to Bik, “You picked a good one.”

You turned slowly to the lizardfolk who had closed his eyes in semi-horror. “I hate it when you use my full name,” he groaned.

“Tibikthio…” you repeated. “I like it…”

You caught the tiniest flicker of something cross his face but it was gone a second later.

“Well he hates it!” Emma barked. “Come on, pull up a chair.” She adopted a silly accent, like some old crone, and added, “There’s plenty of room, m’dear!”

Smiling, you glanced at Bik, who still looked a bit embarrassed about the whole name thing, and then you settled in between him and Emma as the game began.

To start with, you stayed on the periphery, letting them tell their story and act it out. Some of them would have made good voice actors, though Oleander tried a bit too hard in places. But they were having an absolute blast. Bik was the dungeon master, weaving elements of improv and story-crafting seamlessly into one narrative, though there were some gaffes and hilarious moments when it all fell apart. By the end of the session, you had cried tears of laughter until your stomach hurt, and had had your heart in your mouth for the entirety of one fight in a long-lost temple.

It was past ten when they wrapped up, and Bik insisted that they just leave everything there for next time. “It’s late,” he said, “And who wants to tidy up now anyway…?” He was met with a chorus of nods and yawns.

Your stomach growled though as you stood and you felt a bit light-headed.

“You ok?” Bik asked, head tilting quizzically. “You look a bit squiffy… Didn’t make you queasy with all the guts and goop at the end of the fight, did I?”

Reassuring him, you told him you had just missed supper that night because of work, and he looked horrified. “There’s a place round the corner that’s open til midnight. You want to grab something?”

Your initial reaction was to refuse politely and say you’d rustle something up when you got home, but you happened to catch Oleander’s violet eyes as she looked from Bik to you with what could only have been described as a look of hope on her face, so you took a gamble and nodded. “Sure, I’d like that.”

Bik shut up the shop and bid his friends goodnight. Oleander winked at him but offered no comment before demanding that Jos carry her home, which he dutifully did. Bik caught you looking at them and smiled. “They’ve been together since they were sixteen. Real high school sweethearts.”

“They’re adorable,” you offered. “I mean, they’re kind of polar opposites, but… it’s nice.”

“There’s hope for those of us who tend to prefer other species…” Bik muttered playfully. “Come on, it’s not far.” As you walked along the empty street, he asked, “Did you have fun?”

“I did,” you replied honestly. “I had no idea it was so…” you waved your hand while you searched for exactly the right word.

“Nerdy?”

You snorted a laugh and corrected him. “Complicated… involved… complex…”

He shrugged casually and shivered. “It’s what you make of it, I guess. We’ve been plotting this particular campaign for months. It’s nice to be able to play it finally!” He shivered again and hugged his bare arms around himself, claws scratching slightly on his rough skin.

“Are you cold?”

He nodded. “I forgot my jacket. I’m not very good with the cold. It’s a lizardy thing.”

The evening wasn’t particularly chilly, but you supposed he was cold-blooded.

“You want my jacket?” you asked. “I think your shoulders are slim enough that it’d probably fit you.”

He shot you an odd look. “Isn't the guy supposed to be the one to offer that to the girl?”

“Only if you stick to stuffy old gender roles,” you grinned. “You want it or not?”

“Yes please,” he mumbled and took it off you with a grateful smile. He looked odd wearing it, but he burrowed into it for the remainder of the short walk to the late-night restaurant.

The two of you sat down and chatted, and you remarked on just how relaxed it felt.

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s… It’s nice. I’m glad you got rained on all those weeks ago…”

“Me too,” you laughed. He was a dork, but you liked that he felt genuine, and that his sense of humour was a bit off the wall.

The restaurant wasn’t fancy by any stretch of the imagination, but the food they served looked amazing. Run by a big Highland minotaur with a massive belly and a hearty laugh, it offered exactly the kind of meal you needed after not having had much all day, and the two of you took a seat in a quiet corner on some comfortable, diner-style benches.

The lizardfolk who took your order reminded you of a gecko, and had pinkish colouring and large, blue eyes. While you had always been drawn to lizardfolk, somehow no one seemed to compare to Bik lately.

While you waited for your food, Bik interrupted your musing and asked, “What made you get into voice acting? Maybe next time you can voice some of the other characters they meet…?”

“I think I’d like that,” you admitted. “Normally everyone just asks me to do impressions of famous people, you know, because I have an ear for accents and all that.”

He smiled and rested his chin in his hands, staring at you unblinkingly. It might have made anyone else seem a bit intense, but with him it just seemed endearing. As much as he loved to tell a story, he seemed just as happy to listen to one too.

“Honestly, I kind of fell into it. I did music and drama at college and was all set to go down the ‘traditional’ acting line, but I found I was more comfortable bringing characters to life with my voice than my entire body. It’s still really hard work though. Most people reckon that if you can do a few accents or a funny voice, that’s it, but it’s so much more than that.”

He nodded in agreement. “Oh absolutely! I mean, I think I gathered as much just from what we do in our little amateur group. We all sit round a table and we say our ‘lines’, and we all bring our characters to life as convincingly as we can. We’ve been doing it for years, but we’re still not very good!” Bik grinned at you, showing all his teeth, and you smiled back. A moment later he added, a bit dreamily, “I still can’t believe you voiced Eliana. She’s one of my favourite characters ever! I love that game. I wish she’d been a playable character…”

You laughed, honestly a bit bashful.

Before it could become awkward, your food arrived and the two of you chatted some more around mouthfuls of delicious, humble, homely food until you thought you were going to burst.

“Oh man,” you groaned, sitting back in your seat. “I won’t need to eat for a week!”

Bik smiled and said, “I actually probably won’t eat for a week.”

“Wow, that’s…”

“Economically beneficial?” he snickered. “True. I’d rather be like that than like Jos. He has to eat six meals a day just to fuel his body.” He leaned on the table and added in a conspiratorial stage whisper, “And you know what? Oleander eats just as much as he does.”

“No way!” you gasped. “But she’s tiny! How does she do it?”

“She’s half Fae,” he said. “There’s probably magic involved.”

“Lucky her,” you muttered. “Though on second thoughts, grubbing up six meals a day sounds like a lot of effort. But seriously though, I am so full.”

The minotaur who owned the place came out at that moment and said in a heavily accented rumble, “Ach, too bad! I was gonna offer you’s some dessert!” He waggled a pair of menus at you hopefully.

“We’ll just have to come back next week,” you said and the minotaur laughed heartily.

Bik seemed sleepy after the heavy meal, but he walked you back to your place and you exchanged an awkward hug on the threshold. You got the sense that it wasn’t just you who wished it had been more, but neither of you was ready to make that leap just yet.

That first Friday was the first of many trips to the shop to watch them play D&D together, and after only a few weeks, you began to join in more activelyn. And so you found yourself lending your vocal cords to street merchants and beggars, high nobles and sea captains as the unlikely group made their way across their fictional land. The tables had turned a bit, and now it was you who made them helpless with laughter, even mimicking Oleander’s very particular speech patterns when the group ran into a mimic.

“That’s amazing!” she said. “Are you sure you’re not Fae?”

“No,” you said, “I mean, I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure I’m very ordinary…”

“You’re not ordinary at all!” Bik blurted and everyone burst out laughing.

“We all know that Bik’s got the hots for you!” Emma grinned.

Oleander chimed in with, “Well, as much as a cold-blooder can have the ‘hots’ for anyone…”

“Oi,” Bik grunted. “I’m sitting right here you know!”

“Better speak up more often,” Oleander teased playfully, chucking him affectionately under the chin like he was a favourite hunting hound or something, “Or she won’t notice you…”

“I’m going to write you all into a jail cell next week,” the dungeon master grumped. “Then you’ll be sorry.”

After that session, he claimed he was tired and begged off going to supper with you. Of course you said it was fine, but you had grown used to your private suppers together and fought off the lump of disappointment that lodged itself unexpectedly in your throat. He waved and slouched off down the street, leaving the rest of you outside the dark and empty shop.

“I think you went a little far this time,” Jos commented in his deep, gravelly voice to the two girls and they sighed. “He’s always been very sensitive about… you know, ‘matters of the heart’…”

“Yeah. Poor thing,” Oleander said and she looked at you with her large purple eyes. “The more he likes someone, the more awkward he can get. I’m sorry we butchered it tonight for you though. I’ll make it up to you. Fae’s honour.” After a pause, she added, “You do like him, right?”

“Very much,” you admitted quietly. “He’s very gentle. It’s nice.”

“He used to play lacrosse back in high school,” Jos grinned. “He wasn’t gentle then! But he’s sweet when it comes to people he cares about. He looked out for me at school.”

You shot him a surprised look and he laughed. “I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “You just don’t look much like the type who needs anyone to look out for them…”

Oleander patted his colossal forearm and cooed, “Ol’ Jos here wouldn’t say boo to a housefly, would you darling?” He smiled affectionately at her and said nothing. “We’ve always been the outcasts and misfits I guess. Bik’s the most normal one of the lot of us, all things considered.”

Emma announced with a sudden curse that she was running late to meet her girlfriend, and loped off into the night on all fours with an accompanying farewell howl, her backpack bouncing around on her shoulders, and Oleander and Jos bid you goodnight and headed off towards the bus stop, leaving you to make your own way back. It was strange not to have Bik by your side that night, and it made you realise how close you’d become to him over the last few weeks.

Back home, you curled up on the sofa, not ready to start thinking about bed just yet, and had just got your phone out to drop him a text when your message tone chimed at you. The way your heart clenched with excitement at the sight of Bik’s name on the notification made you pause a moment and wonder just what this affection for him was turning into. Images of his bright green skin and golden eyes darted across your mind; the sound of his laugh, the way his tail coiled itself off the ground when he walked, the way his clawed hands held the little props he liked to make… You’d been telling the truth when you’d admitted to Oleander just how much you liked him.

‘Hey’, his text began. ‘Sorry I bailed like that. Did you get home ok?’

‘:) yeah,’ you replied. ‘And it’s fine. I get it, but they meant well. And I’m looking forward to the next session already!”

Jos was the one who finally insisted that you had to become a permanent member of their fictional gang. Casting a look at Bik as you all loitered in the main shop after the session, you saw the way he bit his thin lips and coiled his tail around one ankle. “Should I?” you asked.

You’d grown in confidence around them, glad to have been welcomed into their group, and he nodded mutely.

“That doesn’t seem very enthusiastic…” you shot with tongue-in-cheek humour dancing in your eyes.

“Obviously he’d love that,” Emma said. That day she wasn’t in her wolf form, and it was one of the few times you’d ever seen her as such. She had ash blonde hair with a harsh side-shave above her left ear while the rest was long, tied back in a ponytail. Her body was strong and muscular, and honestly she was utterly gorgeous.

You cocked an eyebrow at him and adopted the tone of one of the temple guardians you’d voiced for them earlier that evening. “Come now,” you said with mock sternness, “Speak the truth, young dragonling…”

Bik immediately caught on and followed the joke as he spoke in the voice of his dragonborn bard, quavering and simpering. “Please… oh Great One, don’t make me speak more on the subject… I’m only a worthless wyrm…”

You closed the short distance between the two of you and leaned in close. His jaw slackened slightly, his throat bobbing, and his beady, amber eye locked onto your face. “You are no such thing,” you smiled. Biko’s throat worked nervously. Drawing back, you added, “And I’d love to join the group. You’ll have to help me think of a character.”

Bik still looked like he’d suffered a minor heart attack, but Jos whooped and Oleander giggled. “Great!” they said as one.

You turned to Bik and said, “Maybe you and I can chat it over after dinner, if you’re still up for our usual post-session snack?”

“Definitely,” he croaked, voice sounding thick and slightly awestruck. He looked a bit stunned, but you decided it was in a good way.

He held the door open for you and you stepped close to him as you headed out into the late evening, pressing a hand flat against his chest as you passed, and murmured, “Thanks.”

He recovered quickly, though he did seem to be concentrating very hard on the task of locking up the shop, and as the two of you walked away from the others, he kept glancing down at you.

“What?” you finally asked with a giggle.

“Nothing.”

“It’s clearly something…” you pressed, turning and walking backwards so you could look at his face. “Regretting your decision to let me join the gang?”

“Not at all!” he replied, apparently horrified that your thoughts had gone there. “No… The opposite actually…”

“Oh,” you sighed.

He breathed your name and then stopped. You drew to a halt as well, watching him with a hammering heart. Starting to talk again seemed tricky, but he managed it. “I… Uh… I’m really glad you’re… you know… around… Ah, shit… I’m so bad at this…”

“I’m glad I’m around too,” you said, and you slid your hand into his. His skin was rough and cool, and your first thought was that you would very much like it against other parts of your body.

Bik tightened his grip on your fingers briefly and let out a breathy, nervous laugh. “I’ve never, uh… courted a human before… Is that even the right term for it?”

“You can call it what you like,” you said. “And you don’t have to do anything special or different. Just… keep hanging out with me. Maybe we could watch a movie or something some time?”

“Ok,” he said, swallowing thickly again. “Let’s go somewhere different for dinner?”

You turned your eyes from his to the restaurant sign just up ahead. “But we always go here,” you said. “And we’re almost there… Where else is going to be open at this time of night?”

“You could… come back to my place?” he asked. “I mean, it’s nothing special, but… I’m a tidy reptile, I promise! No hoards of strange things either. I’m not a dragon…”

You had to laugh at his oddball sense of humour that only got quirkier the more apprehensive he got. He also couldn’t stop his throat from fanning slightly too, the reptilian version of sweating nervously you supposed. “Alight. I’d like that.”

The upper storey of the old house where he lived was open plan, with beautiful bare rafters and sloping ceilings, and hardwood floors. His claws clacked adorably on them when he moved about. He also had the heating on stupendously warm, and you took your coat and jumper off immediately. “Sorry,” he said when he saw what you were doing.

You reassured him, and started to look about a little bit while he busied himself in the kitchen and poured you both a drink.

There were bookshelves on practically every available space, and as well as containing a collection of rare first editions and hard-to-come-by novels, they also sported photos, some in battered frames and others just propped up here and there. Most of them featured lizardfolk who looked a lot like him. “Family?” you asked and he came over to stand beside you.

“Yeah. We were a big clutch,” he said as he held the glass out for you. “Poor mum! There are twelve of us.”

He told you the names of each of his siblings, and what they were up to now, but you were really only half listening to the words. There was something magical about his voice, some unearthly quality it took on when he began to tell a story, regardless whether that was a story about his own life or a fantasy tale made up with his friends.

“What?” he asked softly.

“I… I like the sound of your voice,” you said honestly, and you reached your fingers tentatively up to touch the blue of his throat. He drew in a shaky breath, eyes closing as his reptilian head tilted upwards to allow you better access to him. “You’re very beautiful,” you whispered. “The colour of your skin is incredible… I like this bit too,” you added, running a finger down his cheek where it blended from green speckled with gold to intense blue.

Bik brought his hands to your shoulders and looked down at you, blinking slowly. “Really?” he asked. “It’s not very… I mean… most males of my species have much deeper blue… I mean, just look at my brothers,” he added awkwardly, nodding at a picture behind you.

“I like your blue,” you chuckled without turning around.

Embarrassed, but obviously deeply flattered, he brushed his knuckle against your cheek and said, “Would you like that supper or do you have other things on your mind?”

With a grin, you said, “I suppose I could be distracted by food…” you admitted grudgingly as your stomach rumbled.

You watched him walk away to the kitchen area of the loft apartment, and sighed. This was turning into exactly what you’d hoped it might - a friendship blossoming into something deeper.

Wanting to test that theory, you crossed to join him and, while he still had his back to you, you slid your arms around his slender waist and hugged him. “You need a hand?” you asked, pressing your cheek against his back.

“I… I was going to suggest takeout,” he said bashfully, glancing back over his shoulder at you. “But if you want me to cook, I can?”

You shook your head. “It’s getting late,” you said, releasing him. “Another time. Let’s get takeout.”

While you waited for the food to arrive, you bickered playfully over movie choices, finally settling on some cheesy old film about a dragon who shared his heart with a selfish boy. It was actually pretty good, but it was still horrendously dated in places. It didn’t matter to you though. The food was really good, and the two of you snuggled up on the sofa to eat, with you leaning against his side.

“I couldn’t do this with many people,” you said, nudging him gently with your elbow.

“Do what?”

“Cosy up under someone’s arm. I’m usually too tall.”

He chuckled and swallowed. “Never dated an orc then, I take it.”

You shook your head. “Not dated all that much at all to be honest.”

“What? But your gorgeous,” he blurted and his skin flushed a much darker green. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t,” you said and put your hand reassuringly on his thigh. He jumped and then slid his arm around your shoulders, setting his empty takeout box down on the coffee table beside the sofa.

He gazed at you, a more serious look in his eyes, and said, “You know, I couldn’t help noticing your choices of media…” You flicked him a frown and he went on. “Ok, the first graphic novel with the dragon was on me, but everything else has also had dragons or lizards in…”

“You detecting a preference here?” you sassed gently.

“Am I?”

With an ostentatious roll of your eyes, you said, “I mean, I’ve always thought your kind extremely beautiful, but my interest in you is to do with you. It’s not some empty kink. You know that, right?”

He nodded slowly. “Just checking.”

“And what about you?” you said, also setting your empty food box down and shifting your position so that you came to rest astride his lap, the film almost over, forgotten and playing in the background. “I have to admit that your dragonborn seems to like humans rather a lot… Have you got a thing for us warmbloods?”

His throat worked and he didn’t meet your eye for a moment. “I mean… yes…” he said, and his clawed hands found your wide hips. He ran a circle carefully over them and moaned, his own hips shifting a little beneath you. “But when you walked into my shop, all bedraggled and soaking wet, I’d honestly never seen anyone more beautiful in my whole life.”

You laughed and kissed his cheek. He turned his head slightly as you moved away and drew you back for a proper kiss. His claws raked gently through your hair, messing it up as he gripped you firmly but tenderly, and his tongue slid slowly out to taste you, savouring the kiss. It wasn’t a conventional kiss like those you were used to, but it worked perfectly well. You rolled your hips against him once again and he broke the contact, letting his head fall back against the sofa cushions. His tail coiled and uncoiled beside you on the sofa and you reached for it.

“Can I touch you here?” you asked and he nodded breathlessly.

He gasped as you stroked your fingertips along the slightly rough skin of his tail and he brought the tip of it up to caress the back of your hand.

“Kinky,” you grinned and he snickered.

Bik, somewhat slack-jawed and clearly aroused, brought his blunt muzzle to the curve where your neck met your collarbones, and inhaled the scent of you deeply. His tail coiled tightly around your wrist for a moment before unravelling and falling limply onto the sofa again. “I want you,” he rasped.

You let your hips grind into him again and he gasped and uttered a soft curse under his breath as he stared almost reverently up at you. You nodded, and his claws hooked the hem of your top and lifted it up carefully, revealing your bra and he made short work of the clasp. Taking the weight of each breast in his hands, he caressed you and then, with pupils blown wide and dark so that his irises were a mere halo of gold, he took your nipple delicately between his sharp teeth and very gently sucked, moaning softly as he repeated the gesture on the other one. His rasping tongue curled around them too as they hardened under his attentions and you gave a shaky exhale.

“So beautiful,” he whispered as he let go, leaving you throbbing and tingling. “Gods, you’re so beautiful.”

“Bik…” you groaned when he stopped touching you so that he could simply stare at your half-naked body in his lap.

He smiled and to your immense surprise, simply stood up, hooking his arms under your thighs as you gripped his waist instinctively with your legs. He was a lot stronger than he looked and you nearly yelped in surprise. “I’ve got you,” he said as he carried you towards his open bedroom door, nudging it shut behind him with his tail.

He laid you down on top of the duvet and undressed the rest of you slowly, savouring the sight of you as he gradually revealed your body. You looked up at him dazedly and saw the tent straining against his jeans. “Bik… Not fair,” you said. “You’re still dressed.”

More nervously now that the attention was on him, he took off his own t-shirt to reveal a pale, creamy green stomach and chest. He was still stippled with other hues of green and even a few freckles of black, but his front was mostly pale. His lean waist and narrow hips looked deliciously inviting and you sat up and ran your fingers around the inside of his waistband just to watch him shiver beneath your touch.

His hands hung quietly by his sides as you undid the button of his jeans and he stepped out of them carefully. His taloned feet were as delicate as his hands, and you marvelled at them too before letting your gaze sweep up his slim, strong calves to his thicker and more muscular thighs and to the tight, black boxer-briefs that hugged every single curve of his body.

Bik lay down beside you without taking them off and raked his claws up the length of your legs and, applying a little pressure to your hip, pushed you onto your back. With his tail, he tugged your right ankle close to his body and parted your legs enough for him to run the pad of his thumb in a slow, teasing circle around the soft, sensitive skin above your clit.

Your body lurched joyously at his touch and you sucked in a breath. You began to tingle all over, heat prickling beneath your skin as he woke your whole body up with reverent kisses and touches.

“Can I taste you?” he asked a while later after he’d reduced you to a writhing, whimpering mess, and you nodded.

After you moved further up the bed to give him more room, he reverently placed both palms on your hip bones and nosed gently at your sex. His tongue licked a long, slow stripe and you cried out and arched your back as he laved over your lips and just flicked your clit with the tip of his tongue.

“You taste so beautiful,” he said before returning his attention to your body. He circled and nudged at you, dipping his tongue deep inside you as well, always coming back to your clit until you were almost screaming with want.

“Bik, please… Please make me come,” you panted. “I’m so close…”

“Can humans only come once then?” he asked with over-accentuated ignorance, and you knew from the tone of his voice that he knew the answer to that already. You growled inarticulately at him and he pulled back. “I’d better stop then.”

“No!” you half sobbed. “Please…”

Smiling softly, he stared at you and moved his thumb back to your swollen clit. His claws were too sharp for him to work you inside, but the pattern he made on your skin with his tongue was enough to drive you right to the edge, and then as the white heat built inside you, you felt your orgasm rolling over you like a great ocean breaker and you cried out, grasping at the sheets. As you came, he pressed his tongue hard against you, savouring you as you came against him.

When you eventually slumped back against the pillows, breathing hard and almost dizzy with how good you felt, you half opened one eye to find that he had lain down on his back and was palming his erection through the fabric of his boxers.

“Bik?” you asked in a slightly slurred whisper. Your fingers moved to the waistband and he tensed slightly. “Bik?”

Licking his lips nervously, he nodded and you drew his boxers off. At the top of his legs was a mounded sheath which quite obviously contained not one but two cocks. Neither was necessarily all that large, but they were very beautiful, and fully erect.

“We’re not exactly built like humans,” he said bashfully as you stared openly at him. “I… I was worried that -” he cut off with a deep grunt as you trailed your fingers around the edges of his sheath. His twin cocks - both a bright vibrant green tipped with blue - writhed slightly, coiling around one another and glistening with the same clear fluid that slicked his sheath.

“You’re beautiful, remember?” you reminded him, shakily propping yourself upright on one elbow to get a better look at him. You repeated the gesture, running your fingers tips around his sensitive sheath, and he accepted your words as truth as you started to worship him with the same careful tenderness he’d just shown you.

As you lavished attention on him, he started to unravel.

Soon his spine bowed up off the bed and his hips squirmed as you worked his twin cocks in one hand. The tighter you gripped him, the more noise he made as they twisted together beneath your fingers, and you finally wrung a deep, guttural, low-frequency rumble out of him that reminded you more of an alligator than the more delicate lizards he resembled.

“Gods,” he rasped, “You make it feel like spring…” and you knew he was referring to the traditional lizardfolk mating season. You’d just lowered your mouth to the tip of one of his cocks and given it a tentative suck when he blurted, “Can I come inside you?”

You nodded, and he switched positions with you so that he was on top. The heat of his cocks was a delicious contrast to the constant coolness of the rest of him and you bucked upwards against him just to feel them pressing against your sensitive clit.

“Both?” he asked warily and you nodded again, shifting so that he could line himself up. He kissed down your neck and between your breasts again before he nudged the tips of his cocks to your entrance. As he slid into you, slowly stretching you full, you watched his face carefully. Again, he began to rumble softly and he almost couldn’t speak as he hissed, “So tight… so hot… gods, you’re so hot…”

With a final push of his hips, he slid all the way inside you and paused a moment, clearly fighting the instinct to come almost immediately. Recovered, breathing steadily, he began to slide in and out, his rhythm increasing in tempo as he lost himself in the sensations of your body. The way his cocks felt inside you, twisting together and shifting in a way that no toy could ever hope to replicate, was unlike anything you’d ever experienced and you knew you were going to come again in no time.

“I’m…” he grunted.

“Me too,” you said, grabbing his rough-skinned arms and pulling yourself even further onto his cocks. “Bik, I’m going to come again.”

“Fuck,” he croaked as you clenched tight around him with a cry.

You wrenched his orgasm from him with the force of your own and he arched his spine, hips driving him deep inside you as he released, and he yelled out, voice hoarse, the sound cracked and broken. His jaws parted to reveal his sharp teeth and you kept your grip on his arms as you came a second time.

He shuddered violently, grunting and breathing hard through flared nostrils, and then fell forwards, barely catching himself in time on his forearms. He was spent and exhausted and so beautiful. His blue colouring shone in the dim light of his bedroom and you trailed your fingers lazily along the bridge of his nose towards his lips.

“That was incredible,” he whispered when he’d got his breath back. “I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No,” you smiled and he hugged you briefly, lapping a little lizardy kiss on your forehead before pushing himself up on shaking arms and sliding free of you. His cocks coiled briefly in the warm air and he rolled onto his back beside you. With your thighs still slick with his release, you tucked yourself up beside him and took your time in exploring his relaxed body. Where before he had been tense, almost nervous, worried that his non-human body would be too strange for you, now he seemed to have fallen peacefully into a haze of bliss, and he let your hands roam all over his torso and down to his hips while wearing a soft smile the whole time.

His cocks lay soft across his skin, occasionally twitching and drooling a little, but eventually they began to shift back into his sheath. He slid his hand down and adjusted them, and shot you a look. “You really do like lizardfolk, huh?”

With a wry grin, you shook your head and said, “I really do just like you.”

—

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