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#hes all over my notebooks. so shape
unniic · 1 year
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Crispies
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dilatorywriting · 8 months
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59 Leona, it'd take a lot for him to admit but he would say it eventually. (Also I know you'd recognize me but I'm shy, so anon it is)
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Gender Neutral Reader x Leona Kingscholar Word Count: 1.5k
Prompt 59: "People like me aren’t supposed to have someone like you, I think fate was being harsh on you."
[EVENT MASTERLIST]
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You are nice, and you are stupid. And those things aren’t mutually exclusive.
Sometimes you’re nice because you’re stupid, and sometimes you do stupid things because you’re too nice for your own stupid, stupid good. And it drives Leona half insane.
Which it shouldn’t, because nice, stupid people like you are just as annoying as his brother. Goody-two-shoes with buttoned vests and sparkly, star-shaped stickers on their term papers.
“Did you remember your homework?”
Leona flicked his tail in your face and you scrunched your nose over your notebook.
“Well?”
“Of course I remembered,” he scoffed, lazing back against the roots of one of his favorite trees. This spot used to be so much quieter, so much more peaceful, before you decided to trail after him like a duck quacking for its mother.
“Did you do the homework?” you clarified, and Leona rolled his eyes.
You sighed and starting ruffling around in your bookbag. “I brought a spare copy of the worksheet. You’re going to drive Ruggie insane, y’know. If he winds up stuck with you for another year because you failed for not turning in assignments.”
“Yeah. Sure. Another three-hundred-and-sixty-five days to rifle through my wallet. Worst news of his life.”
You huffed good naturedly and handed him the sheet of crisp, white copy paper and a pen. “Get to work, Kingscholar.”
“Oh?” he drawled, closing his eyes and settling back, loose limbed and all long, lean leisure, against the tree trunk. Clearly ready for an afternoon snooze. “Make me.”
You sighed again and reached over to flick your own well-used pen against his ear. It twitched under your fingers—soft, and tufted. The finest of the pale, tan fur brushing up against your fingertips. “Fine. Be that way. See if I bring you lunch tomorrow.”
“You will,” he scoffed.
“Yeah,” you sighed, sounding resigned and foolishly fond. “I probably will.”
See? Stupid. So easy to manipulate. So willing to let yourself be squashed under his clawed thumb. It was a wonder you’d managed to survive in this school at all. Nevertheless by clinging onto the coattails of someone like him. He’d never made anyone’s existence easier a day in his life, and he certainly wasn’t going to start now, just because you were too soft-hearted and slow to see a looming predator for what it was.
“Just give me that stupid fucking paper,” he snapped, sitting upright and swatting away your poking pen with a sneer. You laughed into your palms like a secret—bright, and merry, and dumb as a fucking rock.
“Whatever you say, Leona.”
.
.
You’d handled his Overblot with a strange sort of aplomb that at first Leona had attributed to perhaps a lingering, hidden confidence that he’d just never bothered to unearth. You were just some herbivore, and even the littlest rabbits could bite back when you put them in a corner. But then he’d come to the decision that that easy conviction was just another symptom of your rampant stupidity.
“I know you guys don’t want to hurt me, or any of us. Not really,” you shrugged around a wad of cotton—the blood dripping from your nose slowly drying up to a tacky, sticky dribble. Leona gaped at you outright.
That was your grand explanation. For why you’d been so eager to charge forward when he’d collapsed in a pool of inky nightmares and self-loathing. And the very same reason apparently thatyou’d felt so comfortable rushing forward to treat Azul Ashengrotto’s blubbering, hysterical, breakdown with the same urgency.
“That octo-prick would have ripped you in half,” he sneered, fingers twitching a nervous rhythm against his palms as he watched the nurse wrap another layer or bandages around your head.
You shrugged. “Not on purpose.”
You were going to give him an aneurism.
“You’re going to get yourself killed,” he snarled, ignoring the horrible, twisty thing curling like bile through his chest. “And I’m not going to bother paying for some self-sacrificing idiot’s funeral.”
Another shrug.
“That’s alright,” you hummed, a soft sort of crooked smile on your mouth. “Would’ve been a waste of money anyways.”
Leona didn’t talk to you for a week after that. Surely because your stupidity had reached such a fever pitch that it was no doubt contagious, and he needed to protect his far superior and more valuable brain. Not because the image of you smiling and nodding along to his declarations that he wouldn’t put the effort into mourning your death had soured something so deep in his gut that he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to scrape it out.
.
.
When he received a letter from home asking him to return for some shitty coronation nonsense for his equally shitty brother, Leona had debated just skipping it outright. Who was going to stop him? You?
Well. Yes, apparently.
“It sounds important,” you hummed, peering over his shoulder at the neat, formal scrawl of the summons. “You should go.”
He snorted. “I don’t want to be there, they don’t want me to be there. What’s the point.”
You frowned, brow crinkling in the middle.
“Well, that’s not true,” you said, perplexed. “They wouldn’t write to you if that was the case.”
Leona snorted, eyes darting away to glare bitterly off into the corner. “Not like they have a choice.”
“Well then you don’t have a choice either,” you argued, firm. “I’ll go with you. See? It says you can have a plus one. You can camp out in your fancy, princey, bedroom. And I can siphon you snacks from the fancy, princey hors d'oeuvres tables. That way we both win. You get to be a reclusive asshole and rub the fact that that you still went in everyone’s faces, and I can get access to some tasty, royal food that I’ll probably never be able to afford again for the rest of my life.”
“Should’ve known you’d be like Ruggie—only using me for the free food,” he sighed, melodramatic and obviously put on.
“Well, also because I thought you could use the emotional support,” you added, a touch too soft and far too genuine. “But I didn’t think you wanted to hear that bit.”
“You’re right,” he scoffed, turning onto his side to hide the strange, miserable heat pricking at his skin. “Don’t ever say corny shit like that again.”
“Aye, aye, captain,” you grinned, flicking at his ear, and Leona added another mental tab to his never-ending list of reasons that you were really far too brainless to keep functioning at all.
.
.
You were nice, and you were stupid. And Seven, he wanted to be anywhere but here.
“My brother hasn’t ever brought someone to one of these events before,” Falena had said, to your face. Idiot to idiot communication.  
“I didn’t give him much of an option,” you’d chirped, perfectly pleasant. “I don’t think he wants me anywhere near here, to be fair. Or around him in general. But I’m like a cockroach. Can’t get rid of me.”
And Falena had laughed. Because he was terrible. And said, “I’m sure he must care about you very much, little cockroach.”
And then because you were more terrible, you laughed back and said very assuredly, “Oh, not at all.”
Which was—was—
“Do you really think that?” he snapped, once the two of you were alone. And you blinked back at him with wide, owlish eyes.
“Think what?”
Think at all,he wanted to sneer, but just glared silently and bitterly into the middle distance—fighting the nonsensical, irritated swishing of his tail.
But you just kept staring at him. Like he was the moron here. Which was unacceptable.
“Look,” he frowned, sharp and miserable. “I get it. People like me aren’t supposed to have someone like you. Whatever gods exist out there were playing a shitty fucking joke on you when they dropped you in my lap. But you’re stuck with me. So stop—” he bit out, fighting that awful, twisty thing in his gut that never seemed to fully go away. “Stop talking like I can’t stand you.”
“…oh,” you mumbled, whisper quiet—that wide, startled gaze flicking away in embarrassment. “Oh.”
“Oh,” he echoed, sharp, and you snorted a laugh that seemed to surprise even you.
“You’re stuck with me too then, y’know,” you said after a long moment. “Even when I make you grumpy.”
“You don’t make me grumpy. I am grumpy. You make me—” he cut off quick, eyes darting away petulantly and an absolutely unfair heat rising along his cheekbones.  
“Itchy,” you piped in, and he gaped at you in shock.
“What?”
“You know,” you shrugged, awkward, and reached up to wiggle your fingers. “Cockroach. Many legs. Squirming. Itchy.”
“Never say any of those words again.”
You laughed into your palm—inelegant and a touch too loud. Leona felt his lips quirk.
“Thank you,” you said after a moment, once your giggles were a bit more under control. And leaned forward quick as a whip to press a nervous peck against his cheek. “For being kind to me.”
Kind.
Leona reached up to press a hand against the too-warm skin with a terrible, unfamiliar sensation in his head not unlike the fuzzy, white drone of TV static. And a horrible thought managed to filter its way through the floating, buzzing sensation curling through the whole of him.
Oh, fuck. It is contagious.
.
.
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darkbluekies · 2 months
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Just a fluff piece with Hedwig taking care of sick Reader? Can be gender neutral
I'm never going away
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Yandere!richgirl x reader
Summary: Hedwig takes care of her darling who's sick♡
Warnings: none, I believe
Word count: 2.7k
You sigh heavily and lean your head on Hedwig’s shoulder. The teacher’s voice feels like needles. Your head is pounding. It’s only the second class of the day, and you’re already over it.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Hedwig whispers and pets your head. “Are you tired?”
“I don’t feel very well”, you mumble and hide your burning, pounding forehead into her shoulder. “I have a headache, and I’m shivering. It feels like I’m going to be sick.”
“Lunch is in twenty minutes, don’t worry, sweetheart. I will take notes for you, you don’t have to listen anymore.”
She picks out her pink pen case and starts to scribble down in her notebook. You want to fall asleep, but you’re scared that the teacher will scold you. Instead, you try to hold out to the break by drinking water from Hedwig’s fancy water bottle. She has a pink bottle decorated with charms that you picked out. 
“I feel like my throat is getting sore”, you whisper. 
“You’re feeling worse?” Hedwig whispers with worried eyes. She hurries to feel your forehead and gasps. “I need to take you home, darling.”
She takes your hand in hers and tells you to hold out. The second the lesson ends, she throws all of her things into her Prada bag. She hooks her arm in yours, pulling you up on your feet. You’re dragged out to the corridor where Hedwig sits you down on one of the hard benches that stand along the wall. 
“I’ll call my chauffeur and you’ll go home, okay, sweetheart?” she says and cups your cheeks. “I have that math test … if I miss it, I’ll fail the course. I have to stay here.”
“I’m cold”, you mumble and pull the blazer of your school uniform closer to your body. 
Hedwig twists the cap of the water bottle open and holds it out to you so that you can sip on the water while she calls her chauffeur, telling him to come and get you. The water helps with your sore throat, but it’s not near enough to make you feel better. After Hedwig has called her driver, she sits down beside you, taking your hot, heavy head in her hands and kissing wherever she can reach. 
“You’re going to be okay, my dear”, she reassures you. “You just need to go home and rest.”
“Can’t I go home to my house instead?” you ask. 
She twitches. “No! I-I mean … you should go home to me, so that I can take care of you later.”
You decide not to argue against her. You’re in no shape to do that anyway. She holds you close, letting you lean against her. You have started to shiver by now. 
“It’s going to be okay”, she whispers and kisses your temple. “You’re going to get to rest very soon.”
When her chauffeur finally comes, you’re helped out to the car and placed in the backseat. Hedwig pulls the seatbelt tightly over your body and kisses your cheek. 
“I’ll be home in about two hours”, she says. “Make sure to get some rest. Tell the chef that you want soup, okay? You have to tell him. And if you need anything, let the chauffeur know so that he can buy it for you. Promise me.”
You nod tiredly. Hedwig gives you one last, sad, smile before closing the door and watching you disappear throughout the gates. Damn that fucking math test. 
The chauffeur helps you up the stairs as you enter the georgian mansion. Your legs give up halfway and you almost crash into the stairs. The chauffeur grabs you quickly. 
“Sorry”, you whisper. 
“Don’t be”, he says. 
He leaves you on Hedwig’s bed and asks if there is something he can get you. You shake your head. Even if you did need something, you still feel weird asking random people to get it for you. the few times you’ve done that, you’ve offered to pay but they’ve always turned it down. You’re not Hedwig, you aren’t used to having a dozen people do things for you. You have your own two hands and legs and are fully capable of doing things yourself. 
“Should I get you some medicine?” the chauffeur asks. “I’m sure miss Hedwig would like it if I do.”
You give up, your head aching too much to discuss what you do or don’t need. You agree to him buying the medicine. As soon as he leaves, you change into your pajamas and tuck yourself in, hugging Hedwig’s teddy bear. Just as you’re about to fall asleep, there's a faint knock on the door. You pry your eyes open slightly to see the chef sneak in. 
“What should I do for you?” he asks. 
“Hedwig recommended soup”, you mumble. 
“In that case I will make soup.”
He disappears again. You fall asleep within minutes and doesn’t notice when the chef comes in with steaming carrot soup, or when the chauffeur comes with the medicine. You first wake up when Hedwig leaves kisses over your face.
“I’m sorry for waking you, sweetheart”, she whispers apologetically, caressing your face. “But I got worried. You haven’t touched the soup or the medicine at all.” She feels your forehead softly. “Have you taken your temperature yet?”
“I have been sleeping”, you explain and cough loudly. 
Hedwig furrows her brows worriedly and helps you sit up. She smiles as she sees you hugging her teddy. You cough again and she caresses your hair, looking as worried as if you'd have cut your arm off. She feeds you the medicine and strokes your hair. With careful hands, she lifts the cold bowl of soup in her hands, feeling around. Her golden rings clinks against the ceramic.
“I will heat it up for you”, she smiles and picks up the TV remote. “What do you want to watch? Not The fox and the hound, you cry when the fox is let out into the forest.”
“Who doesn't? You do too!”
“Yes, I know. What I mean is that you shouldn't be watching such sad things when you're sick. How about something else?”
She finds a movie for you to watch and lets it play while she takes the bowl of soup and walks out of the door. You hug Hedwig’s teddy closer to your burning — yet freezing — body. In these vulnerable times, you want nothing more than to go home to your own house, and lay in your own bed … and have your mom prepare food for you. But Hedwig wouldn’t allow it. Just being away from her for a day causes her to panic. You’re her oxygen and without you, she suffocates. And yet she suffocates you with her smothering love. But you can’t bring yourself to break up with her, because you can’t bring yourself too, maybe you don’t want to. It’s always you and her, two together, and you don’t know what you would do without her. Even though you’re with one of the most popular girls in school, none of the other kids seem to take an interest in you. Hedwig is the only one that likes you … and gosh, does she like you. You have never met someone that takes care of you like she does. She puts everything aside for you. Weirdly enough, you feel like she is supposed to be the one everyone drops things for. She’s wealthy and important, and a lot of people do a lot for wealthy and important people. Sometimes you find yourself questioning her existence, because when you’re with each other, she never lets you see her as the person everyone else talks about. To you, she’s just Hedwig, a sweet girl you’re in love with. And to her, you’re her entire existence. 
“Here you go!” Hedwig smiles and walks in with the bowl. “It’s extremely hot, so please be careful.”
She places the bowl in your hands. You enjoy the heat. Hedwig feeds you with a proud smile on her face. She makes sure that you eat it all, even if you feel like throwing up by the end of it. 
“How are you feeling now?” she asks softly.
“I feel like I'm dying”, you try to joke, but quickly realize that Hedwig’s not in the mood for jokes.
“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better? Do you want anything? A warm bath? A nap? Something else to eat?”
“I just want to sleep.”
“Okay … we can do that!”
She creeps down under the covers and holds you tight to her. Usually, she is the one wanting to be held and squeezed. She hugs you tightly and rests her head on yours. Her hands plays with your hair. 
“I hate to see you sick, my love”, she whispers. “I wish that I could take your pain away. You’re so warm.”
“I’m freezing”, you whisper. 
She takes your hands between hers and blow hot air. 
“I kind of want to bite your fingers”, she giggles quietly and takes a small nibble on your index finger. 
She giggles and is quick to wipe away any saliva with her sleeve and apologize. Without waiting, she continues to blow hot air on your hands.  
The two of you rest together and you eventually fall asleep. Hedwig stays awake, holding you in her arms.
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You wake up drenched in sweat. The medicine seem to be working. 
“What’s wrong?” Hedwig asks and sits up. “Are you feeling worse?”
“No, I’m sweating like crazy”, you respond. 
“Then your fever should have gone down — at least for now. That’s good.”
“I’m drenched.”
“Do you want to take a bath? I can fix it for you.”
You dozily look around for a clock. “What time is it?”
“Almost dinner time. I’ve told the chef to make us some chicken noodle soup, some good toasts and prepare some nice tea.” She caresses your cheek. “Does that sound good, sweetheart?”
You nod with a small, thankful smile, even if you’re not the slightest hungry — on the contrary actually, you’re almost nauseous. Hedwig smiles as well and jumps up from the bed, runs out of the room. You cough into your arm and sniffle and hug her teddy, waiting for her to return. The pain killer have wiped away the fever for now, but it will come back eventually. 
“Y/N”, Hedwig says from the door. “It’s done.”
You drag yourself up from the bed and move over to the door. Hedwig takes your hand and leads your barely alive form to the bathroom. You remove your drenched pajamas and sink down under the fluffy bubbles covering the water's surface. Hedwig smiles and sits down on the floor beside the big tub, hugging her legs close to her chest with a soft smile.
“I don't like it when you're sick but I'm glad that I can take care of you”, she says and sighs. “I don't understand why people go to school even though they're clearly not well. Everyone else has to pay for it.” 
“Most people can't afford missing school”, you say.
“But it's not about money”, she says in confusion.
“I'm talking about time, not money.”
“Oh. Imagine how convenient it would be if you could buy time. You and I would live for a long time.”
“And without me you'd be immortal.”
She goes white. “No, don't say that! I wouldn't want to live forever if I didn't have you. Don't say such things. Gives me nightmares.”
You smile sluggishly. 
“It’s not funny”, Hedwig scolds you sadly. “I don’t want to live a single second without you.”
“I know”, you say and change your smile to a more comforting one, than a teasingly, to calm her nerves before she started panicking and locking herself in her own thoughts. 
“I will get sick now too”, she suddenly says and blushes. “But it’s okay, I don’t mind getting sick if it’s from you.”
You start to cough and Hedwig hurries to pat your back. In frustration over feeling like a walking zombie, you hide your face into your hands.
“It’s okay”, she comforts you. “You’re going to be okay. It’s just temporary, sweetheart.”
“I fucking hate being sick”, you mumble in a whine. 
“I know, I know. B-But isn’t the warm water helping?”
“A bit. I’m not freezing, and it’s a little easier to breathe, but I still feel … heavy and trespassed.”
“Trespassed?” 
“It’s like something is living in my body … and I want it out.”
Hedwig pets your head. “It will disappear but you need to give it time, darling. Now, should I wash your hair for you?”
Without waiting for an answer, she cups her hands into the bubbles and pours the water over your hair, making sure not to get it in your face.
“I’m sorry that you have to take care of me like a child”, you apologize. 
“I will always take care of you”, she says calmly. 
“I have a test next week … I hope I’m well before that.”
“You will be. But if you aren’t, you shouldn’t go. I won’t allow that. In fact, I don’t think that you should leave the bed at all until you’re well. I will help you with everything.”
“You have to go to school. Both of us can’t miss or we’ll both fall behind.”
“My friends will take notes. I will stay with you. I will take care of you.”
You wonder if she wants to stay home because she actually wants to take care of you … or if she can’t bear to spend time apart from you. You know how paranoid she gets every time she can’t cling onto you. You’re like her lifeline. 
“Who … do you think it was that made you sick?” Hedwig asks as she carefully massages your scalp with a floral scented shampoo.
“I don't know”, you reply. “Maybe that Eric Nelson boy? He coughed the entire week.”
“How inconsiderate. I should talk to him-”
“Don’t be like that. I’m sure he had his reasons for coming to school even if he’s sick.”
You cough again. Hedwig opens her mouth to say something, but closes it again and continues to massage your scalp with the bubbly shampoo. She continues to wash you until you’re squeaky clean. You’re tucked into the bed once again with Hedwig measuring up pain killers for your fever. The chef sneaks into the room with the chicken noodle soup and your heart sinks. You’re not the slightest hungry, but you’re unsure if you have the energy to fight Hedwig about that. But if you eat, you’ll most likely throw up or explode. So carefully, you try to eat a few spoonfuls. She watches you intensely. You wish that she could look away, just for a second so that you could breathe. 
“Are you okay?” Hedwig asks worriedly. “Do you need to lay down? Do you feel worse? Should i get something for-”
“No, I’m good”, you say, poking around in the soup with your spoon. “Just not very hungry.”
“You need to eat. Here, let me help you.”
Before you have the chance to say something, she has started to feed you again, just like she did before. Her hazel eyes glow with worry. 
“Hedwig, I will throw up if I eat too much”, you say. 
“Do we need to go to the hospital?” she almost stutters. 
“No, I just need to do this in my own pace. I don’t want more for now.”
“A-Are you sure?”
“Sure.”
She sighs, gives you one final look and then nods, giving up. Hedwig takes the bowl out of your hands and tucks you in again, making sure that you won’t be able to use your arms. She holds her hand on your warm forehead before letting her hand travel down to your cheek, caressing it gently.
“You’re so precious to me”, she whispers seriously. “I wish that I could take your pain away from you, I wish that you never had to feel any pain at all.” Hedwig kisses your forehead. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m never going away, you’ll never have to be alone.”
She looks so sweet, talks so sweet … and yet you can’t help but shiver and let your eyes wander off to the window … and gaze at the trees swaying free in the wind.
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1000sunnygo · 2 months
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Law's artist side isn't talked about enough, so here's a smooth brain ramble.
He prefers abstract arts over realism. Unlike Kid who forms animal or skull figures with metals, Law creates strange 'sculptures' with his victim's bodies/belongings:
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And, of course, the tattoos.
I like how all of his tattoos accentuate the shapes of his torso and arms, especially the joints and muscles. Combined they look like a single stylized drawing of human upper torso.
Seen theories that the tribal style could be a lost trend from Flevance (as seen on the arm of a miner in his flashback), but it could just be his personal style. That said, his upper arm's heart tattoos look similar.
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(Something that artists probably noticed long ago but I'm only noticing recently: Law's upper arm's tattoos have been simplified over time. There used to be two spiral-like protrusions, but Oda has been omitting them in later arts)
The "DEATH" tattoos have a straightforward message. According to the Law novel, these were his first tattoos.
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Speaking of death, ghosts and spirituality have been implicitly a theme for Law, especially during Dressrosa. Doflamingo referred to Law as Cora's 'vengeful ghost'. Law's (cursed) sword Kikoku's name means 'wailings of a restless ghost". Ironically, Law having a hidden name was also a tradition that related to dead people.
The orange jolly roger (red in the sail) could be many things, I think it's a stylized way of drawing the sun.
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Sun symbols are everywhere in the One Piece world. Law's lower arm tattoos are different types of 'suns'. Law might've subconsciously carried those symbols from his hometown for their aesthetic appeal.
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The tattoos on the back of his hands reminded me of the church lady's cross, which is slightly different from the cross seen at Kuma's church. It's possible that various faiths in One Piece world are interconnected, leading to a prophecy about the sun god and Dawn. Law, at the very least, believes in the will of D and his own fate being tied to a purpose.
The chest tattoo, clearly a tribute to Corazon, could have some elements of catholicism. Kikoku also has crosses all over its sheath. Originally this wasn't my observation, but Law seeing Cora as a sacred being makes a lot of sense.
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Carving a heart at the dead center of his chest by creating small wounds - the process itself reminds of Cora doesn't it
The custom-made Dressrosa coat is another tribute to Corazon, but IMHO he designed it specifically for Doflamingo, as a mockery.
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A cross and circle like dangling a pistol target for Doflamingo's shooting practice, with a grinning face copied from Doflamingo's own jolly roger, but it's Corazon. Like his brother has returned to face his pistol again. A vengeful ghost indeed
And boy did it work...
Doflamingo shot it until the mark was completely drenched and unrecognizable.
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Assuming he draws for all of his clothes himself, here's this masterpiece:
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Or maybe it's gifted by his crew mates. Either way, it's adorable.
Since he's a surgeon (and a comic nerd), he should be skilled at drawing human anatomy. How does he draw realistic arts? Does he doodle while taking notes?
We've seen his handwriting in punk hazard arc and it wasn't particularly stylized. Regardless, it'd be nice to take a proper peek at his notebook.
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impishjesters · 7 months
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I have this idea floating around in my brain for a while about a reader who likes to draw and because they have a crush on Jax they draw him. Jax eventually steals their notebook and probably teases them about it lol.
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Jax x Crushing!Reader
warning(s): innuendos, bullying/teasing, Jax note(s): Look it's me and Jax, there's gonna be innuendos or some spicy wording and bullying. It's like a packaged deal or something. A/N: If you see me mixing Angel Dust's speech into Jax, no you didn't. If you didn't notice, I don't know how to tease and not be an asshole, so pretty on the brand I guess.
Caine had given you a sketchbook upon request, it was a little different than an actual sketchbook but it did the job regardless. Ever since your arrival, your fingers have been itching to draw, there were so many new sights and so much new inspiration.
There were so many things, so why did it seem like the doodles of Jax ended up on almost every page?
Easy, you had a crush on the apathetic, mischievous jerk named Jax.
Why? Well, now that’s the million-dollar question. He’s not inherently awful, no, that’s a lie, he’s an asshole. You don’t really have a good read on him yet but he’s funny! That’s gotta be redeemable, right? However, his jokes are usually backhanded and often involve being mean at the expense of others.
Okay so he’s a walking red flag but there’s something about him that has you crushing on the purple bastard.
Looking down at the sketchbook on your lap shows another two pages filled with sketches of random things, though most of the page is filled with Jax. You had taken to sketching things back in the real world to remind yourself of home, but eventually, those sketches would involve Jax doing mundane things.
Thing’s like sitting at a table eating real food, though you took creative measures when drawing an open mouth on him, it still looked off but it was serene and domestic. Then there’s the little sketch at the bottom of the page of Jax leaning against a window and staring outside. You’d manage to nab the pose and angle when he was leaning against one of the many random geometrical-shaped things in the main room and later added in a window.
It was embarrassing that almost more than half of the pages in the book involved Jax to some degree. Some pages weren’t even subtle, the whole page taking up a detailed portrait version of the male. Sometimes you even got creative and put him in different clothing.
Thumbing through the pages you saw there weren’t that many empty pages left. You’d need to ask Caine for another one and figure out what to do with this one. It couldn’t be left out in the open, you knew Jax had keys to everyone’s room and wouldn’t put it past him to go snooping. He’d already questioned you about the sketchbook before.
You’d been so focused on the sketchbook that you hadn’t noticed the man of the hour walking up. Jax noticed your intense focus and peeked over to see the infamous sketchbook on your lap, and with practiced ease managed to yoink it right off your lap.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here? You finally showing me what you keep your nose buried into?”
A yelp left you, stumbling to get on your feet you rushed to him and began swatting at the book and of course, he’d keep raising it just out of reach. “You took it! I didn’t say you could look at that!”
“Nah, pretty sure you said I could look at it.” He continued to lower and raise the book as you jumped to grab it. Sure he was curious before, but with a reaction like that? How could he not be even more curious? What kind of seedy shit were you drawing? Or perhaps some spicy nonfamily-friendly content?
Jax ignored your frantic words and opened the book to a random page, he was going to tease you about whatever dumb stuff you drew since you always had your nose in it but all he saw were sketches of himself.
A normal person might get embarrassed and hand the book back, but he’s not a normal person. It’s a little freaky, he won’t lie. A glance downwards shows him you’ve gone silent in front of him, simply staring down while he invades the privacy that was your sketchbook.
Your face is red and you look like you’re going to cry any second.
He’s a jerk, he was going to fuck with you, and he still is, but for the moment he’s taking in all the creative little pieces involving his face. Ya know, he never really thought much about how he’d look in other clothes. Gotta say he looks pretty snazzy in something that isn’t these shitty overalls.
“You know if I didn’t know any better,” his fingers still flip through the pages as he steps closer, circling you. “I’d say you like me.”
“I don’t.”
The reply is rushed and he rolls his eyes at the blatant lie, he’ll humor you this time. “Oh yeah? Does that mean you’ve got sketchbooks for everyone else too? Cause I’m pretty sure this is the only one I’ve seen you with.” He taps a doodle on the cover that gives away it’s the same notebook he always sees you with.
Tears trickled down your cheeks, you knew he was a jerk but this felt like too much. You just wanted your sketchbook back and to run away to your room, maybe pin something in front of the door that would render even the key useless.
His eyes roll the second he sees a tear, he’s not really seeing the problem here. You’ve got a book full of creepy—okay not completely creepy, he’s a good model so good on you for seeing that—sketches of him and he’s truthfully honored. It’s clear that you didn’t do this with everyone, so he’s honored to be your little model. Besides, it’s not like you actually have a crush on him, right?
Minutes tick by of him simply eyeing you, you’re still crying and it’s starting to get a little ugly and snotty, ugh. But you aren’t trying to further deny his little comment about you liking him. He’ll have to have a little talk about that later, what you could possibly see in him because he knows that you aren’t a sadist—oh, are you a masochist? That’d explain a lot.
Jax sighs and closes the book but doesn’t hand it over, simply putting the free hand on his hip. “You know if you wanted to see my face all you gotta do is ask. I’ll gladly show you this handsome face any day toots.”
Of all the things you thought he’d say, that wasn’t it. “H-huh..?” You embarrassingly wipe away the tears and snot before looking up at him.
“You heard me. Ya know I love this face too, very handsome. Maybe we can get Caine to put up some artwork in the tent of yours truly.” Jax wouldn’t consider himself vain, but you did have a way of making him look more, dare he say, attractive.
“I-I don’t… I don’t understand…” Was he still making fun of you?
He rolls his eyes before playfully hitting your head with the book. “Jeez, and here I thought you were smart.” Jax leaned over like he was speaking to a child and pushed the book to your chest. “I’m saying, the next time you wanna draw me I’ll give you a front-row seat. Maybe even take it to the bedroom so we won’t be disturbed.”
You push the book into his face to cover up that growing smirk and blush furiously. “Wh-what?! N-no I-I don’t…!” It’s hard to tell if he’s being serious or not in his offer to model for you, especially with the bedroom comment.
“C’mon, clearly you got taste. I mean that book is filled with sketches of me. I’ll commend you on your immaculate taste.” Jax taps the book before playfully bopping your nose. “At least let me give you the pleasure of seeing me close up. I’ve never been a model before so you might have to get a little hands-on to get me the way you want me.”
As the innuendos continue your face feels like it’s getting impossibly red and warm. Somehow this is worse than him telling you a sketchbook full of his face is creepy, in fact, you’d almost prefer it because your poor little heart can’t take anymore. You let out a yell and it stops his tangent but that stupid smirk of his never disappears.
“Offer still stands. You know where to find me.” Jax turns away but not before throwing a little wink over his shoulder. He still plans on pestering you about what you see in him, but for now, he’ll cut you some slack. You’re about as red as Ragatha’s hair and as much as he loves to see it, he didn’t plan to get this sidetracked when he saw you on your own.
He’s got a sucker to prank.
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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 3 months
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Let's Talk About That Chapter 1
Psychiatrist!Avenger!Fem!Reader × Wanda Maximoff
Summary: You are the young psychiatrist for the Avengers, and you take your job very seriously, but what happens when Wanda joins the team, turning your life upside down?
Word count: 1.7k
Warnings: legal age gap r is 19 w is 25, talks of death and grief, a bit of angst, therapy sessions
A/N: I had this idea for a while and wrote it a while ago, but spruced it up for publishing. I hope you enjoy it!
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May 7th-10th 2015
The only sounds to be heard were the scratches of your pen against paper as you wrote down notes the old fashioned way and the hum of the AC unit installed in your office. Tony let you have a nice corner of the tower where there was sunlight and windows. You had gone with a soft gray for the walls, an L-shaped mahogany desk that had both a desktop computer and your laptop. Across from your desk was two couches and a coffee table between them with an assortment of fidget toys, a succulent, a handful of magazines, and a box of tissues. 
Everyone had been away on an important mission and normally you’d go with, but you'd been recovering from a previous injury, you still are when you hear a knock on your door, 
"Open." You let them know and just from their aura you can tell it's Tasha, but she's with someone else, an aura you don't recognize. You look up to find a girl with chestnut colored hair, and a dark aura around her. "Hey Tash. I'm glad you're all home safe. I'm assuming we'll restart our sessions?" You ask the red head. 
"Yes. We can resume them. Tomorrow. Today I need you to have a talk with this one." Tasha helps her into the room and gestures for her to sit down, Tasha walks over and hands you a large file. "She came from HYDRA, they had a lot of info on her, she had joined us in the fight against Ultron." Tasha tells you before lowering her voice, "She lost her twin brother during the battle. So maybe you can get her to talk." You smile at Tasha and then look past the red head. 
"Yeah of course we shouldn't have any issues Tash. Leave it to me." You tell her as I adjust your glasses, quickly looking over her file as Tasha exits, closing the door behind her, "Wanda Maximoff, 25, born in Sokovia." You say out loud as you walk around your desk to the other couch across from where she's sitting criss-cross. You take notice she's taken her shoes off and smile, taking note of the fact that she’s comfortable enough to do something like that. "I'm Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. I'm 19. I'm also an Avenger. I have a power that allows me to see auras and emotions. I can also influence people's emotions and use my voice to influence others around me." You tell her a little about yourself first to help make her comfortable with talking about herself.
"You're 19? How are you a doctor?" She finally talks and you can hear her thick Sokovian accent which is like music to your ears. 
"I'm very smart. Graduated high school at 12 finished my Doctorate last year for psychiatry and Tony took me in as the Avengers Psychiatrist shortly after that. Everyone here needs a little bit of help and that is what I'm here to provide for you." You smile at her as you open a fresh notebook for her, choosing a red covered one noticing that she was wearing Tasha’s red leather jacket. "So tell me a little about yourself. Anything you want." You ask as you jot down her basic info on the first page. 
"I love American sitcoms." she tells you first. You smile and look at her over your glasses. 
"Why is that?" You ask as you jot down her words. 
"We used to watch them as a family every night so we could learn English." She tells you making a smile appear on your face. 
"When you say we who does that entail?" You question the Sokovian wanting to get to the root of her problems. 
"My Mama, Papa, and Pietro..." She tells you solemnly. 
"Who is Pietro?" You inquire, looking up from your notebook. 
"He is...was...my twin brother." You jot down everything she says during your session and she does open up a little bit with some persuasion on your part, but that isn't unusual for your sessions. 
"Well Wanda thank you for opening up to me. Your aura is looking a little warmer from when you first walked in. How about you come back in three days for another session?" You tilt your head as you grab a little card for her. 
"Why three days?" She asks nervously, tugging at her sleeves attempting to cover her hands, but the jacket doesn't budge. She starts picking at her nails as an alternative, chipping the black nail polish further. 
"I like to have frequent sessions the first month. Then we'll have them weekly just like the others." You let her know and she nods her head as you write the date and time for her to show up on the card for three days from now. Standing up with her, "I offer a high fives, hand shakes, fist bumps, or a hug at the end of sessions. Which would you like?" You ask and she's thrown off a bit by the statement at first but then answers. 
"Hug. I could use a hug right now." You open up your arms and let her come to you. She ends up crying in your arms as you sooth her, letting her know it is okay to cry. 
"I'll always be here for you Wanda. I'm always on your side." You whisper to her and she holds you tighter at the words.
You sat back down at your desk after Wanda left, feeling a mix of emotions swirling within you. Empathy for Wanda's pain, determination to help her heal, and a lingering sense of dread about what HYDRA had done to her. But you pushed those feelings aside, focusing on the task at hand.
As the Avengers' psychiatrist, it was your responsibility to help your teammates navigate the mental and emotional toll of their work. Sometimes that meant delving into painful memories or difficult emotions, but it was a role you took on willingly. After all, you had your own share of struggles, and if you could use your powers to help others, then it was worth it.
You glanced at the clock and realized it was almost time for lunch. You decided to take a break and head to the common area, where you found Tony tinkering with one of his suits.
"Hey, Y/N," he greeted you with a grin. "How's it going?"
"Good," you replied, sinking into a nearby chair. "Just had a session with Wanda. She's been through a lot."
Tony nodded solemnly. "Yeah, losing her brother and all that HYDRA stuff... it's rough."
You sighed, running a hand through your Y/H/C hair. "Yeah, but she's strong. I think she'll come through it."
Tony gave you a reassuring smile before returning to his work, and you took a moment to appreciate the camaraderie of the team. Despite your differences and the challenges you guys faced, you were a family, bound together by our shared experiences and our commitment to protecting the world.
After a quick lunch, you headed back to your office to prepare for your next session. As you reviewed your notes from Wanda's session, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to her story, something hidden beneath the surface. But for now, all you could do was continue to offer her support and hope that she would find the strength to confront her demons and emerge stronger on the other side.
With that thought in mind, you square your shoulders and prepare to face whatever challenges lay ahead. As an Avenger, a psychiatrist, and a friend, you were ready to do whatever it took to help your teammates and protect the world from whatever threats may come our way.
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Three days passed in a blur of meetings, training sessions, and the occasional emergency mission. But today, you were back in your office, eagerly awaiting Wanda's return for your second session. As you sat at your desk, reviewing your notes from your previous meeting, you couldn't help but feel a surge of empathy for her. Losing a loved one in battle was something you could relate to all too well.
Before you could dwell too much on your own past, there was a soft knock on your door, and Wanda stepped into the room. Her aura seemed a bit brighter today, though still tinged with sadness. "Hey, Wanda," you greeted her with a warm smile, motioning for her to take a seat. "How are you feeling today?"
Wanda hesitated for a moment before answering, "Better, I think. Thank you for... everything last time."
You nodded, understandingly. "Of course. It's what I'm here for." You gestured toward the notebook on the table. "Shall we pick up where we left off?"
For the next hour, the two of you delved deeper into Wanda's past, her memories of Sokovia, her time with HYDRA, and her experiences with her brother, Pietro. With each word she spoke, you could feel her emotions swirling around you, and you did your best to guide her through them, offering comfort and support where you could.
As your session came to a close, Wanda seemed visibly lighter, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Thank you, Y/N," she said softly, wiping away a stray tear. "I didn't realize how much I needed this."
You smiled back, feeling a sense of fulfillment wash over you. "Anytime, Wanda. Remember, I'm always here for you."
Before she left, Wanda surprises you by reaching out and giving you a tight hug. "Thank you," she repeated, her voice thick with emotion.
As you watched her leave your office, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the opportunity to help someone in need, to make a difference in their life, even if it was just one session at a time. And as you glanced down at the Power Stone embedded in your chest, you couldn't help but wonder if perhaps this was the true source of your ability to connect with others on such a deep level. But for now, all that mattered was that you were making a difference, one session at a time.
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phas3d · 3 months
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Celebrity Crush Opposite || Slytherin Boys
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type :: angst
tw/cw :: body image, insecurities
contains :: draco malfoy, tom riddle, mattheo riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire
summary :: you freak out over your celebrity crush only for him to look completely opposite from them. this is a different version of THIS post i made a long time ago, sorry it's so late! - I love this idea so much omggg the angst?? the hurt?? insecurities??? GIVE IT TO MEEEE
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DRACO MALFOY (enemies)
He's always mocked you for stupid reasons, like how you write your "a"s or how you hold your spoon
Once again, he was making his way to your typical spot at lunch to make fun of you
As he scanned your table, searching for something to mock you form, he made contact with a photocard in your hands
"GOD I WANNA GET HIM PREGNANTTTTT!!!" You shouted loudly as you sobbed into your hands
Your friends, oddly enough, nodded along with you and respected your comment
Draco thought it was outlandish but he shrugged it off, his mind was too busy staring into the soulless piece of paper you were holding
One thing about Draco is that he's always been popular with girls in school, even if they thought he was ugly, he knew they would find him cute or at least his asshole personality would let people think they could "fix him"
But for some reason, this simple piece of paper put a knot in his throat as he felt a pang of insecurity strike in him
Surprisingly, he broke his streak of daily mocking as he sat at his table, disappointed and hurt
What hurt even hurt was the fact that you didn't even notice that he didn't mock you today
How could you not tell he's flirting with you!!! (he literally spat in your food one time and call you a fat pig)
As he went to bed that night, he stared at the ceiling, getting flashbacks of the photocard like he was a war veteran
The cute Asian man with dark hair was drastically different from Draco in every way
Race, hair color, eye color, body shape, everything!
He couldn't help but feel insecure in himself, after all you're one of his longest ever crushes
Genuinely thinks of dying his hair black until Lorenzo and Blaise beg him not to
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TOM RIDDLE (friends)
You were one of the only people to understand Tom and his weird antics making you two become friends
In return for accepting his weird habits, he was forced to deal with yours whether he likes it or not
He skipped one of his classes in order to stay behind and work with Professor Slughorn on a new potion they were learning
You gave him your notes from class, a very common thing between you two except normally Tom was the one sharing notes
As he looked at your shit handwriting, he started to see a theme in it
All over your notebook were drawings of some random actor?
Tom doesn't know pop culture very well so he asked you who it was in your books
"Who??? WHO??!? HOW THE FUCK DO YOU NOT KNOW MICHEAL B. JORDAN???" You said as your jaw hit the floor "HE'S THE FINEST MAN ON EARTH?!?!?!"
"Never heard of him."
"You're gonna hear me scream his name once I get my rose toy"
Tom has never been a big fan of anything popular since he strives to be different from everyone in every possible way
But for some reason, this interest of your in Micheal B. Jordan made him want to research him further
When you left, Tom instantly started to research Micheal B. Jordan until 3 A.M
For some reason, Tom felt upset? (He's jealous but doesn't even know he likes you)
He feels possessive, as if he should steal your notebook and rip out all your drawings of him and burn them
Actually... he might do that,
But, he can't help but compare himself to Micheal
In his head, he thinks it's because you said he the most handsome man ever,
But anyone with common sense could tell it was from him liking you
Tom doesn't change himself after this news though, he's not a pussy and knows he's fine already
But, he does hope that one day you can call him the finest man on Earth
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MATTHEO RIDDLE (classmates)
Although he didn't know much about you, he's always wanted to
So when he heard you shout at the top of your lungs when you saw something on your phone, he was quickly interested
He's tried to get close to you multiple times by befriending your friends, going to your usual spots, and more
But for some reason, you two couldn't line up
So he decides to just walk up to you and ask you straight up what you're looking at and spark a converstation
He walks towards you as you spam your fist against the table
You begin to make gorilla sounds and bang your chest, "OO OO AHH AHHH OOOO AHHH!!!!!"
(inspo by my queen brittany broski)
Andddd he begins to take a step away.... He can't just walk back to his desk now since it will be awkward
So he continues to walk past you, slightly scared and weirded out by your behavior
He looks at your phone only to see a random singer with dark skin and locs
Mattheo didn't even need to check himself to know that he had no similarities to the celebretry that you love so much
And instantly, he's bummed to an extreme level
He's so used to being every girls ideal type that he can't stand the thought of the one girl that he ACTUALLY likes have the complete opposite taste of who he is
But that doesn't matter to him too much, since he's fully confident that he can get you to like him with some time
He's the only guy who I think would understand that it's just a celebrity crush and that it's not the end of the world
Because he knows he's hot
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THEODORE NOTT (classmates)
Although he's a massive fuck boy, he still gets crushes every now and then, and you were his biggest crush yet
He's tried to flirt with you in the past, but he either stumbled his words or you just didn't understand what he was implying
So when he heard you across the room freaking out over some random actor, he was quick to run over and look
He got up so fast, doing his best to act natural as he pasts by your table
"For my birthday I want him to be oiled up with a bow on top"
Your crude humor was funny to him, he loved that you were unserious
As he passes by, he sees an older man with a fully grown beard and some wrinkles
He wouldn't be surprised if the man had children of his own that could ever be your own age
Although his face doesn't express much emotion, he couldn't hide how his eyes widened at that
He goes to his dorm and researches him to no end, finding out everything possible about the man only to get confused as to why you like him so much
It was a fully grown man with a wife and two kids, what appeal did he have?
Theodore is so lost and confused, he's not sure how to make you like him
He was hoping it would be Harry Styles, Chris Hemsworth, fuck it even Sam Smith - Because at least they were younger and looked attractive
But this was a fully grown man...
Theo feels so sad, thinking that he has no chance with you and sulks for the rest of the day
But his friends comfort him, reassuring him that he still has a chance with you since Theo could grow to be an old man with you
And that statement did make him blush a lil heehee
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LORENZO BERKSHIRE (best friends)
Freaking out over hot people was something that he was used to girls in your grade doing
He never understood why people liked those different guys so much, but he didn't care since he basically looked like all of those celebrities in some way
But when he heard you playing the same edit audio over and over again, he needed to know who it was
And as he looked, he saw some random tan buff dude with a mysterious aura to him
You were basically drooling all over your phone
"I wanna stuff my face inbetween his man titties and suckle it like a starving baby"
Lorezno's brain was instantly able to picture that exact sentence, and he didn't like that at all
On instinct he cringes at your statement but laughs it off
As the day ends, he starts to overthink and compare himself to the guy you like so much
He was so much buffer, had a different skin ton, and even had a different hair color
Lorenzo has always been a bit insecure about his body since he was pretty lanky and lean which was the opposite of his friend group of Mattheo and Theo
He looks in the mirror whilst holding up a photo of of the random guy you like so much, picking himself apart
Once he finds out everything he needs to change, he breaks down first. but then gets to work
Pushing himself to fit your perfect type just so he can even have a sliver of a chance of being with you
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beansprean · 5 months
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You can see now that this was all written well before s5 lmao.
My Familiar’s Ghost part 64
Masterpost
See new pages on Patreon!
(ID in alt and under cut)
ID: 1a. Close up on Nandor newly dressed in his leather buckled tunic and fur stole as he pops his head into Guillermo's room beneath the stairs. With a polite but cautious expression, he calls out, 'Guillermo?' 1b. Zoom out to full body, Nandor standing in the entry in the background and twiddling his hands together. Guillermo, redressed in a cardigan and chinos, is kneeling on the ground in front of his bed, fumbling around with something beneath it. The nightstand behind him is cleared out, lamp on top unplugged, and a cardboard box filled with random crap sits on the bed. Nandor glances around at this with sudden anxiety and asks, 'You are...moving?' Guillermo replies instantly, 'Just upstairs! I'm a vampire now, so I should get my own room, right?' Nandor responds woodenly, 'Oh. Yes. That is the protocol.' 1c. Repeat, wider shot. We can now see Guillermo's desk against the left wall, cleared off but for a plastic milk crate with a small lamp, the Nandor and Guillermo dolls, and the glitter portrait nestled carefully inside. Nandor notices them and leans over to get a closer look, a pleased little smile crossing his face. In the foreground, Guillermo sits up slightly and holds up an empty box of band aids, squinting inside of it with a frown. He says, 'Also it turns out I do still need glasses. No idea where they ended up, but I have an old pair in here somewhere. I think.'
2a. Bust of Nandor as he straightens and turns his head back toward Guillermo, brow furrowed. He asks, 'You mean...your vision has been impaired this entire time?' Offscreen, Guillermo replies 'Oh yeah, I can barely see my own nose right now.' 2b. Repeat. A dazed look comes over Nandor's face, gaze aimed at the ground, unfocused. His cheeks flush with color and he fidgets, flustered, as memories of their fight in Panera flash behind his head: Guillermo throwing stakes at him and missing by a hair, blocking his sneak attack, charging at him with a growl. Nandor thinks to himself, impressed and more than a little turned on, '...Wow...' Offscreen, Guillermo crows, 'Aha! Here they are!'
3a. Medium shot of Guillermo from behind, Nandor's POV, as he stands up from his kneel and places a pair of glasses on his face. He says, 'Oh, wow, that's so much better.' Behind him, the countless tally marks on the wall are still visible, but the drawings and photos and mask have been taken down, leaving it strangely bare. 3b. Close up of Guillermo from Nandor's POV as he turns to face him, the background blooming into peach bokeh lights. Guillermo smiles a little cautiously, fangs on full display, hand hovering around the rim of the glasses as they slip down his nose. The glasses are oval shaped and wire rimmed - the glasses he wore when he first became a familiar. When they first met over 13 years ago. He looks up at Nandor over the lenses and asks, 'It's not too different, right?' 3b. Reverse shot of Nandor on the same peachy background, staring at Guillermo with wide eyes, lips pressed together. He says nothing for a moment as, behind him, memories of Guillermo from their first meeting flash past warmly. 3d. Waist up of them both in profile, the background of the room beneath the stairs fading back in. We can now see a second box on Guillermo's bed - a large Top Ramen box - full of the items that were once tacked on the wall. A few notebooks are scattered on the mattress along with an open glasses case. In the foreground, Nandor takes a step closer to Guillermo with a fond smile and reaches out one finger to push the glasses back up his nose. Nandor says, 'They are not very flattering, but I like them.' Guillermo goes cross-eyed watching his hand, grinning bit confusedly, and replies 'Ohhhkay.' /end ID
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euphoricfilter · 4 months
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more silent love:
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pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: fluff || non-idol au
summary: jungkook’s book of silent love
tags/ warnings: more fluff, they’re in love it’s kinda sickening, more silent ways to say i love you. i am once again sleepy and thinking of the cute kinda love
notes: part two of this fic, but can be read as a standalone :D
where you can find all my other work!!
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.
The list of silent love is a forever growing one. 
A small notebook sits on the kitchen table, one you had never bothered to pick up. Though Jungkook likes to spend quiet evenings alone, handwriting far from legible as he scribbles down each of these precious moments.
Memories set in stone as the ink seeps into flimsy paper; perfect, beautiful, love tucked between pages like his own little secret. 
As of late, the both of you spend Sunday afternoons learning how to bake bread. A new type of loaf every week, flour clinging to clothes and smiles tugging at both your lips. It had become your own personal mission to never buy bread again, taking hours out the afternoon, simply basking in the company of one another as you learn something new. 
He finds himself associating the smell of fresh bread to you. Quirk of a smile tugging at his cheeks as he walks past bakeries, fleeting memory of you in the forefront of his mind. A permanent home you've burrowed.
Jungkook, of course, likes to make you sandwiches with your homemade bread. Some mornings waking up, quietly slipping out of bed before you wake to pack you lunch, sweet little note slipped into your bag before he hears your footsteps patter out the bedroom, sluggish as you wake up. 
And on those mornings your patience wears a little too thin, the world a little too much for you to take so early in the day; Jungkook will make sure to sit you down in front of the vanity. Where he detangles your hair ever so gently. Careful as he helps you put your earrings in– he’d gotten quite good over time, learning how to match your jewellery to what you were wearing. Observant in all your favorite pieces that he knew he could never go wrong with. 
Every night as he showers, you sit yourself up on the kitchen counter, reaching for Jungkook’s favorite herbal teas. And every night, as he dries his hair, slinking into the kitchen, there will always be a tea there waiting for him.
He wonders how you’d learnt to time it perfectly. Knowing when to pour the hot water with just enough time before he gets out of the shower where the temperature is perfect. So he can easily slip under a blanket with you, your cold feet warmed up between his thighs as he sips sleepy tea and you doze off beside him. 
He’d learnt you loved when he made you heart-shaped pancakes. And as much as he always eyes the cute little pancake pans online, there will always be something slightly more rewarding about his own hand-crafted hearts that have you giggling into his mouth– lips syrup sticky and sweet. That slight effort more just to see you smile forever lighting up his life. 
He likes to watch you smile as you re-read your favourite books. Where he’d taken time out of his lunch breaks to respond to all the annotations you’d made on your first read through.
He’d glance up at you from his phone as the pen glides across the page, your own mind conjuring up replies to his questions and comments. Like that in itself was its own love language. Silent words slipped between pages of stories that aren't your own, words that only the two of you will ever see. A glimpse into your mind and in return a peek into his.
Every time he is the cause of your smile, his chest goes warm and his heart feels fluttery and light. So gooey warm and raw and lovely and so many words, so many thoughts and feelings all at once he will never be able to truly explain it in words. And maybe that’s why he likes to write down all the precious moments you share. Because that is love. The epitome of love in every sense of the word and it's meaning and yet, it's more than that.
It is your shared love in words without fancy vocabulary and poems and unheard confessions of adoration that will never leave the corners of his mind. Simply unreadable gibberish to hold each of these moments in time, cradled against his beating heart, so that even when the both of you leave this world, part of your love will live forever between the pages of that book. 
Because that's what your love is. An eternal thing that will dance between the stars after death and kiss the both of you in your graves as you blossom into new life. Sure to meet one another again no matter where you end up.
You are Jungkook's forever, even if that means he has to scour the earth to find that little notebook, to relive those memories and learn to love you the right way again.
408 notes · View notes
landogalore · 2 months
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DEJA VU
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carlos sainz x singer! reader
MASTERLIST
WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY, SMUT: unprotected sex (PLS WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT GUYS), oral sex (female), creampie.
word count: 2.7k
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The routine began the same as every night had previously started, following the identical steps to prepare herself before stepping onto the stage.
The brunette hair swirled down, reaching just below her shoulders in perfectly shaped curls. she allowed her eyes to glance at herself in the mirror, the bright spotlights shooting towards her face, enhancing her facial features so beautifully it would put any person into a trance. the silver eyeshadow has been carefully placed in the corner of her eyelids, the glistening effect causing her sapphire eyes to become bolder, brighter. As she admired herself one last time, she was able to reminisce the events that led up to this, how her talent was able to become known, and the people who cherished her along the journey.
She originally attempted to boost her career by busking, sitting on a stool in the Spanish humidity, singing the songs that she hoped would attract the most attention from the public, eventually persuading them to drop a mere euro into the bucket below. To most people, this would appear to be a normal method to try and get funding which could help increase her popularity, but to the determined singer and her family, she looked like a pathetic charity case.
‘You can’t continue with this, hija.’ her mother would constantly remind her, her dream was just a fantasy she created, unable to ever truly become the reality she longed for.
‘It can go on no longer. we’ll help you get a stable job.’ her father agreed, once again the truth that she was failing hitting like a bullet, leaving a wound that would slowly shatter her confidence.
‘Just one last day, please papá.’ she begged, she needed one last try, a song to say goodbye to the dream that she imagined when she was a child, the commitment she gave needed to be for something, it had to be.
————————————————————————
Similarly to every other session, she placed the empty bucket beside her while she set up the equipment. The streets in Madrid were always busy, bustling with a mixture of both locals and tourists. And like all the other days, she began to sing, a tiny beacon of hope still fighting in her heart, that she will be noticed.
Two hours went by, and the usual process happened, euros gifted to her by a range of people, even a young toddler waddled over to drop a few pennies into the bucket below. This was finally the end, she thought to herself. She sighed, admitting she needed a break before continuing once again, placing the equipment back into her backpack before slouching onto a nearby park bench.
‘You’re the singer, no?’ A voice asked from beside her, turning to face the stranger who somehow recognised her. His dark hair slightly blowing across his face from the gentle breeze, covering small areas of his features. Although, they struggled to hide the large chocolate coloured eyes smiling towards her, leaving the girl almost mesmerised.
‘Yeah! Well, I busk nearby.’ She confirmed, her grin growing at the realisation she had eventually been recognised for her abilities, the man’s lips beaming wider at the answer.
‘Are you available friday?’ he queried, the girl’s eyes widening in shock at the question. was he about to ask her to sing at a venue?
‘Uh..’ she panicked, her whole body buzzing with excitement, ‘definitely! i’m not busy at all on friday!’
‘Great! I’ve got a few friends coming to this event later this week and our singer decided to get food poisoning and cancel. I’ll give you my number and send you the rest of the details.’ He further explained, reaching out of his pocket to grab a notebook, ripping a small tear out of a page. ‘You got a pen?’
‘Yeah!’ she rummaged through her backpack and handed him the pen, her voice unable to contain the positive emotions overwhelming her, seeming a bit too enthusiastic to give him some basic stationery.
‘Here.’ he passed her the tiny sheet which she also placed inside her bag. ‘I’m Carlos.’ he introduced himself, reaching out his hand, the new view of his arms highlighting the prominent veins, despite mainly being covered in body hair.
‘Maddison.’ She grabbed his hand back, shaking it as she stared directly at the man, a mixture of both delight that she can now sing somewhere that isn’t 20+ degrees in the outdoor heat, but also that she had met Carlos…
————————————————————————
Is this Carlos?
Yes! Please be at this address at 7pm. I’ll see you soon 😊
————————————————————————
When she arrived, the immediate elegance of the building shocked her. It seemed like she had been transported to the victorian era, contrasting the usual settings she had been accustomed to previously.
She inhaled a large gasp of the oxygen outside, trying to control her breathing rate and calm down the nervous butterflies that fluttered around her stomach.
She hesitantly stepped inside of the venue, but became immediately mesmerised by the luxurious decorations that covered the room. It was truly something she had never seen before.
“You’re here.” The familiar accent greeted her once again, her eyes shifting to see Carlos, dressed in a dark suit that appeared more expensive than what the girl had in her whole bank account, feeling almost humiliated by the dress she had slipped on in an attempt to blend in with the crowd. “You look-” He began.
“I know… I’m sorry it’s one of the only dresses-” she apologised, already believing she had ruined a part of the night.
“You look stunning, Maddison.” He interrupted, finally finishing his sentence, admiring the girl standing before him, the unexpected compliment causing her cheeks to flush into a vibrant red shade. “I’ll take you to the stage.” Carlos added, indicating for the singer to follow him, which she easily complied.
“Is there anything specific you want me to sing?” She questioned, unsure on what the routine was for the night.
‘Just sing the songs you like, not always just the popular ones, but the songs you’re confident with.’
‘Got it.’ She smiled; she was now able to play the music that matched her tone perfectly rather than adapting. The contagious expression she wore reflected onto Carlos’ face, before he stepped closer to the girl, leaning in towards her ear.
‘I’m sure that anything you sing will be amazing, cariño.’ He murmured softly, backing away and leaving to allow her to set up the equipment desired for the upcoming performance.
The celebrations continued throughout the night, all the guests pleasantly entertained, she didn’t know much about the reasoning behind the event, but narrowed it down to being a birthday party.
After further confirming that the microphone was functioning correctly, she adjusted the stand to her height, placing the device into the slot as she started to introduce her act to the audience.
‘Hi everyone!’ She spoke, all eyes in the room now focused on the girl standing on the stage. “I’m Maddison and I’ve been asked to perform some songs for you all. This one I will sing is currently one of my favourites!’ She finished, shifting from talking to singing as the speaker began to play a melody.
The music differed to the usual tunes she sung while busking, the more tranquil genre suiting her voice almost perfectly, allowing her to stay comfortable while the whole crowd stared. However the only person she truly focused on was Carlos, his chocolate eyes glistening towards her like he was enthralled not just by the singer’s talent, but also by her immense beauty. The man couldn’t comprehend the reasons why he felt such ways for someone he had approached on the street just earlier this week, all he could do is watch in mesmerisation, cherishing the moment.
————————————————————————
At the end of the night, only a few were still gathered at the party, mostly waving their goodbyes; however, the singer and Carlos being a part of that small group.
When she finished her act, the man waited patiently nearby the stage as she packed away her equipment, desperate to just see her once more, even if it was the couple glasses of alcohol he sipped previously influencing these thoughts, the girl remaining unaware of his presence.
‘Your singing was so beautiful.’ He perked up, catching the attention of the girl as she swiftly turned her head around to face him.
‘Carlos, you’re still here?’ her eyes widened, shocked that he had remained at the event for such a long period of time. ‘I thought you would’ve left already.’
‘Never.’ He stepped closer, standing tall above her, just a few inches away from her face, his brain practically entranced by her beauty, he didn’t care anymore, at this moment all he craved was her, everything about her. ‘I needed to see you again Maddison.’ His voice softening as he approached further towards the singer, his hands moving upwards to gently caress her cheek. Despite the strength the man’s hands appeared, his touch seemed so gentle and loving.
‘Carlos.’ Her breath hitched at the sudden action, hundreds of questions overwhelming her mind. Why did he want her? Is he drunk? Does he know what he is doing? Why did she want him to kiss her so badly?
‘Say it, please cariño.’ The beseech escaped as almost a murmur, praying that she had heard the sentence, his vision purely focusing on the singer’s plumped lips.
‘Kiss me, Carlos.’ She pleased, immediately being met with the man’s lips smashed onto hers, bringing her into a passionate kiss. Her wish was his command. His tongue entered her mouth as the touch became slightly rougher, grasping onto her cheek tighter but still somehow keeping that caring feeling.
‘Not here.’ She pulled away from the connection, placing the hand that was originally situated on her cheek down towards her own palm, signalling for him to hold it. ‘You don’t want an audience now do you?’ The singer lifted onto the tips of her feet to whisper into his ear, lust clearly visible in her throat.
‘You’re right querida.’ He agreed, a smirk slowly forming on his mouth, ‘I’m the only one who deserves to see you naked, desperate for my cock.’ The words leaving his lips making the girl’s thighs warmer, closing them together to release the pressure that was craving something, craving Carlos.
Eagerly, she followed Carlos away from the grand atmosphere, the room shrinking into a narrow hallway before the man reached their desired destination, twisting the doorknob to reveal the bathroom that still remained as elegant as the rest of the building.
Instantly entering, their lips joined together once again, the girl’s body slammed against the counter nearby the sink while Carlos sped up the pace of their kisses, becoming desperate and sloppy, but she definitely wasn’t complaining.
His tongue continued its attack, although separating from her lips, travelling downwards to her clear neck, the man excited to paint his canvas with marks that will leave large bruises.
As he sucked onto the clear skin, the girl couldn’t help but let high- pitched moans crawl out of her throat, not caring about the red, stinging stains appearing, just praying for this sensation to continue forever.
‘This dress is so pretty on you, ángel.’ Carlos smirked, his fingertips brushing against the slim straps on the one-piece, ‘But you’ll look much better with this all off.’ He looked up at the girl for confirmation to continue, which she eagerly nodded in consent as he slid the fabric down her shoulders, slowly removing the clothing in an attempt to tease her. He refused to break eye contact as the silk dropped down to her thighs, revealing the lacy bra underneath, which he also unclipped to uncover her breasts.
‘I need you, Carlos.’ She pleaded, impatience prominent in her voice as the light strokes made her whole body shiver with lust. ‘I need you in me.’
‘Steady cariño.’ He giggle consumed with mischief, ‘Gonna have some fun with you first.’ He planted sloppy kisses trailing from her collarbone downwards towards the lower area of her chest, the crumpled fabric preventing the man moving any further. ‘Can I?’
‘Yes, please.’ She answered, the material rubbing down her legs as she was left almost naked, just a small piece of dampened lace covering her vagina.
‘Mierda.’ He murmured the curse at the sight of her dripping pussy. ‘You’re already that wet for me, bet you’re gonna taste so good.’ His warm breathed pressed near her entrance, leaving a tickling feeling that only made the girl ache for the man even more.
His mouth began to press against her lips, swirling his tongue around areas of her clit, causing inaudible sounds to slip out of the girl’s mouth.
‘Carlos.-’ Was the only word she could muster, unable to focus while the man licked against her walls, her legs beginning to tremble due to the immense pleasure.
‘Dios, you sound so beautiful saying my name.’ He complimented, still working at her pussy, the visible muscles in the neck twitching, only allowing her to become even more aroused of the thought of his defined body. ‘Are you gonna cum for me, princesa?’
The question finally pushed her to the edge, her eyes rolling to the back of her head, allowing the release, gripping tightly on the marble countertops she lay on for support as the liquid leaked out. However, it was quickly being cleaned up Carlos.
‘I knew it, you taste perfect.’ He chuckled, enjoying the meal before him, ‘Can’t wait to get me inside you now, is that okay?’ He looked upwards at the girl, her eyes now fuzzier and makeup smudged.
‘Please Carlos, I need to see you.’ she begged, placing her hand against his shirt, her fingertips pathing their way towards the top button, undoing each button carefully, similarly to the teasing the man had used previously.
‘Like what you see?’ He snickered as she stared in awe at the exposed abs and thick body hair. Continuing, he swiftly unbuckled his belt, slipping his trousers off and tossing them nearby her already removed dress. The man stood now only in his boxers, his bulge noticeable.
He proceeded undressing, the duo both now fully naked, however the room still stayed warm from their lust that circled the atmosphere.
‘You ready?’ Carlos asked, waiting for the confirmation from the girl as he approached, moving his dick nearby her hole.
‘Yes, fuck me Carlos.’ She pleaded, immediately greeted with his cock filling her up, a loud moan escaping from her lips. ‘Oh my god.’ She gasped, shocked by how truly large he was.
‘Mierda, Mads.’ He groaned at the tight sensation, nobody had ever made him feel like this before, almost as if she was the perfect piece to finish the jigsaw, ‘You make me feel so good, hermosa.’ As he increased the pace, the pleasurable screams grew louder. Fortunately, there was most likely not a soul left in the building, allowing more freedom.
‘I’m gonna cum again, I can’t hold on any longer.’ She whined, the thrusting from Carlos turning all the muscles in her body numb, desperate to release the pressure.
‘We’ll do it together, cariño.’ He suggested, preparing for a countdown so they can both relieve themselves together. ‘1, 2, 3.’ Instantly after, they both moaned in sync, their bodies vibrating as they spilled their warmth into each other, connecting together in more than one way.
‘Are you okay, princesa?’ Carlos pulled out of her, his hand carefully caressing her cheek that glowed with vibrance. Her now tangled hair flowed down her face, slightly hiding some features, but he could still spot her beauty.
‘Perfect, especially now I’m with you.’ The girl giggled.
————————————————————————
Despite that moment being so long ago, the memories are still imprinted in her brain, remembering every detail, including every detail of him.
‘Are you okay? princesa?’ Her fiancé wrapped his arms around the singer’s waist, nuzzling his head softly into the crevice of her neck. ‘No before- stages nerves?’
‘Don’t worry Carlos.’ She reassured, the stage didn’t frighten her so much anymore, confidently able to stand before a large audience. ‘I’m perfect, especially now I’m with you.’ She spoke, and a flash of deja vu sent her back once again, to that Friday night, to the man eager to find a replacement singer, to Carlos.
HOPE YOU ENJOYED <3
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andreafmn · 8 months
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Kinktober ⛓️ Day 3
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Word Count: 2.5K Paring:  Lip Gallagher x Fem!Reader Prompt @kinktober2023: Hate Sex WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ (minors DNI),  p-in-v sex, foul language, reader is technically underage
Summary: There is no one that (Y/N) despises more than Philip Gallagher, but having his brother as her best friend forces them in close proximity more than they would like. Or maybe they do?
A/N: This is set some time during season 3 so Lip is around 18 and reader would be 17 since she's contemporary with Ian's age, so do with that what you will.
<- Previous
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“Yo, Ian,” Lip’s voice rang through the house. “You’re girlfriend’s here!”
“Oh, fuck off, Lip,” (Y/N) said as she bumped past him into the Gallagher home. “I know you wish I was here to see you, but I don’t do charity work on Tuesdays.” 
“Fuck you, (Y/L/N). You’d be lucky if I was the one you were studying with.” 
“Of course, the genius Philip Gallagher that doesn’t even want to go to college,” she snickered, stopping at the rest on the stairs. “I’ll take my chances with my own brain. Thanks.”  
“You’ll regret helping Ian with math,” he called as he walked to the front door. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 
With an exasperated scoff, (Y/N) walked up the rest of the stairs, clutching her backpack tighter than she should have. She didn’t understand why she and the older Gallagher son didn’t get along. She had a wonderful relationship with everyone else in the family –even Frank was courteous enough with her– but something never clicked with Lip. Every time they were in close proximity, they would bicker and fight until someone else got in the way. It made it especially difficult when (Y/N) came over to spend time with Ian. 
She would never say she hated Lip. But the sentiment was close enough that others would notice. Between the terrible side-eyes and the snide comments, being around the two could easily become suffocating. Granted, everyone but them knew what was truly happening. They had met their match in each other but were too stubborn to admit it. 
“You ran into Lip, didn’t you?” Ian chuckled as his friend walked into his room. “It’s all over your face.” 
“Unfortunately, I did,” she sighed, plopping down next to him on the floor. “But he seemed to be going somewhere, so I didn’t have to talk to him for much.” 
“Just long enough to make sure you got annoyed. Perfect mood to study Geometry with you.” 
“Fuck you, I’m always a delight.” 
“Sure. Until you spend a second with Lip, and then everything goes to shit.” 
“Shut up, Ian,” she said, rolling her eyes. “If you want me to help you study, you’ll stop talking about your despicable brother, Phillip.” 
Hours passed between textbooks and worksheets, notebooks and loose papers, and somehow the bright afternoon sun had shifted into night. Ian had already gone to bed, tired from a long day of shapes and mathematical equations. Almost everyone in the house had done the same, tucked into bed early, which was a luxury for anyone on the South Side. 
Meanwhile, (Y/N) was still wide awake, taking advantage of the tiredness of the family to use up what was left of the hot water. She could have gone home, to her packed house and probably cold water, but she found comfort staying with the Gallaghers. The family was a melting pot of chaos, there were more fights than a WWE ring, and every single day brought a different kind of adventure. Her house had all of that, except the real warmth of a family. And being there made her feel like she was a part of something. 
The water ran across her skin, soothing the tight muscles that stiffened her body. The smell of soap filled her nose as she lathered herself, and she was glad that the bar seemed new still. They were small luxuries that she was grateful she could partake in every once in a while. And in the quiet of the night, it was almost peaceful.
Until a sound that did not fit into her spa-like scenario filled the air. From behind the curtain, she could hear a strong stream of liquid falling into the toilet. But she knew she had locked the door —not that it would have worked in that house anyway. 
She moved the curtain slightly to reveal Lip standing in front of the toilet. “What the fuck are you doing?” (Y/N) exclaimed, making sure her body was covered. “Can’t you see I’m using the bathroom?” 
“You’re in the shower. Toilet was up for grabs.” 
“Why couldn’t you have gone downstairs?” 
“Because I was already upstairs,” he shrugged, shaking his cock above the toilet as he finished. “Stop gawking, (Y/N). I know it’s impressive, but staring is kind of rude.” 
“Fuck you, Lip. I’ve seen better,” she said, closing the curtain to conceal the way her skin was flushing. “I’ve definitely been with better.” 
“Keep telling yourself that,” he snickered, turning on the sink. “But we both know the guys you’ve fucked are not exactly Adonises.”
“You’re such an asshole, Lip,” she scoffed. “If you’re gonna be here, at least pass me my towel.”
“Why should I? You can just step out.” 
“You’re not seeing me naked, Lip.” 
“It’s only fair,” he chuckled. “You saw mine, I get to see yours.” 
“Stop being a perv, Lip. I’m not one of those chicks you fuck for fun. I actually have standards.” 
“Right, and they’re so high, right?”
“They are.” 
“Is that why you fucked Billy Spencer two months ago or lost your v-card with Jesse Suarez in his car? Yeah, those standards are skyscraping high.” 
In a fit of rage, (Y/N) ripped the curtain open and sauntered out of the tub, getting as close to Lip as possible. “You don’t get to fucking judge my decisions, Philip,” she spat, jabbing her index finger against his chest. “Who I sleep with or don’t sleep with is none of your business. And you sure as hell are one to talk. Your list is not the most pristine, either. Starting with Karen, for example.”
“Don’t you fucking talk about her,” he said through gritted teeth, pushing back on her as she had. “You don’t talk about her.” 
“What? You can dish it out but can’t fucking take it, huh?”
“I can take whatever you fucking throw at me, (Y/N). I ain’t scared of you.” 
“Maybe you should be,” she continued. There was almost no space between them. She had him pressed against the wall, their noses almost touching as they heaved in anger. “There is no one else that can put you in your place like I can, and you know it.” 
“I don’t need you to put me in my place.”
“Are you sure?”
“You’re so fucking infuriating!” 
“Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?” 
Lip’s next move was a surprise to her. She was expecting him to keep yelling or stomp out of the bathroom. Instead, he placed a hand on either side of her face and crashed his lips onto hers. He was all kinds of rough and forceful, clashing teeth and lips together without any care. But somehow, (Y/N) found herself kissing back just as roughly, grabbing onto the lapel of his jacket. 
But it wasn’t until she felt the roughness of his hands on the skin of her back that she realized she had jumped out of the shower, naked and still dripping with water. She jumped away from Lip as though his touch was fire and scrambled for her towel, trying her best to cover her body from him.
“Why are you covering yourself now?” he laughed. “I already saw everything, (Y/N).”
“Fuck you, Philip.”
“I was gonna let you,” he grinned. “But it looks like you got performance anxiety. Maybe you’re not as good as guys say.” 
“Not that it’s any of your concern, but I’m great in bed,” she argued. “But I would rather do it with someone I actually like.”
“It’s just sex, (Y/N),” he countered. “This is not to fall in love.” 
(Y/N) kept quiet for a beat, thinking over the boy’s request. His reputation for being a good lay preceded him, and she would have been lying if she said she had never thought about it. But the fact that his personality was almost revolting made her wonder if it was worth it. 
“God, you’re so fucking infuriating,” she said before doing the same thing he had done. “This means nothing. You’re just convenient.”
“Right,” he chuckled against her mouth. “Keep telling yourself that.”
“Oh, shut up already.” 
“Make me.” 
Her lips did all the answering, molding to his mouth perfectly, their tongues dancing together in perfect symphony. If she had believed in fate and the alignment of the universe, she would have deluded herself into thinking that they were meant to be. 
Lip’s clothes were rough against her unclothed skin, the zippers and the fabrics scratching at her body and rubbing the most sensitive parts of her body that were exposed. Warmth pooled between her legs with the kiss alone, and her body’s reaction scared her. It was almost instantaneous, and it had been the first time it had happened. 
“It’s not fair that I’m the only one that’s naked,” she said breathlessly.
“Do you ever stop fucking talking?” 
“Not when my mouth’s unoccupied,” she snickered. “And I have a lot to say.”  
“You’re too fucking much,” he grumbled as he took off layer after layer of clothing, letting them fall to the floor. “Now come here.”
He kissed her roughly again, pressing his chest as close to her body as he could, his hands snaking to the small of her back. As their mouth moved in synch, they walked backward until her back was pressed against the wall, the coldness making her skin erupt in goosebumps. But his hands were enough to build a fire inside her. The way they mapped every inch of her body and worked in tandem with his mouth to find her most sensitive spots. 
Lip nipped at her jaw and her neck, traveling down to her collarbone as his hands tweaked the hardened peaks of her breasts. Somehow, he was able to annoy her within an inch of raging ire and could bring her to the brink of orgasm with just his mouth and hands. 
In a swift move, Lip turned (Y/N), bending her against the wall as he pulled the zipper of his pants down. The clothes pooled at his ankles as he held his cock and lined himself up with her wetness, running the head across her fold and teasing her clit. 
“For someone that is just doing this out of convenience, you’re really wet,” he chuckled darkly. “Have you been dreaming about this?” 
“I could ask the same of you, Philip,” she retorted. “Because for someone that doesn’t really care, you’re really fucking hard.” 
“I’m only just a man, (Y/N).” 
“How about you shut up and prove it already, then? Maybe…” 
(Y/N)’s words died in her throat as she felt him sink into her completely, stretching her walls like no one had done before. He took the air out of her lungs, a moan getting strangled in her throat at the suddenness. 
Lip didn’t move instantly, allowing her body to get used to the size. At least, that was what he would have said if she had asked. Truthfully, being inside her was the most overwhelming experience he had ever had. He needed a moment to compose himself before he busted too early. The last thing he needed was for (Y/N) to have more ammo against him. He enjoyed their bickering reparté, but he had quite the reputation when it came to sex, and he wouldn’t let her ruin it. Even if his body was trying to betray him. 
Once he felt he could control himself, he started moving hips, quickly setting a pace that had (Y/N) letting out a string of moans that he wanted to listen to for the rest of his life. Her hands gripped the towel bar before her, her knuckles turning white from the tightness. She met his every move, pushing against him as he pummeled into her. 
“Harder,” she meweled. “Fuck me harder, Philip.” 
Lip did exactly as told. Skin met skin at a rapid pace, filling the otherwise quiet room with pants, moans, and slaps. Even her using his full name did not put a damper on his mood, rather loved the way it sounded in her mouth. And for the first time, it didn’t sound like she was saying it with  hate. At least, not completely. 
He snaked his hand around her body, his hand finding the mound of her clit and pressing two fingers on it. They circled and rolled the bud, making her walls clench around him as he pistoned into her. He knew both of them were reaching their end. The tightening of her cunt and the tightening of his balls told him enough.
“Fuck, don’t stop, Lip. Don’t you dare fucking stop.” 
“I wasn’t planning to.” 
And he didn’t. He kept thrusting until (Y/N) let out a pleasurable yell that had him covering her mouth. As he did, she bit down on his skin unconsciously, making him moan and awakening something in him he didn’t know was dormant. It brought him right to the brink of his end, and it took everything in him to leave her warmth and explode all over her ass. 
His body slumped over hers, absentmindedly kissing the skin of her shoulder as they both came down from their orgasm. They felt comfortable in their silence, their pants synching and their bodies melting against each other. If they could have, they would have fallen asleep in that very position. 
But a knock on the door startled them apart.
“Yo, I need the bathroom,” Carl called from the other side of the door. “I’ve gotta piss real bad.” 
“Can you go downstairs, Carl?” (Y/N) asked. “I’m just finishing up in the shower.” 
“Ugh, fine! Just hurry up. There’s more people in this house, you know?” 
“Yeah, sorry!” 
After wiping themselves down, Lip and (Y/N) started getting dressed, neither meeting each other’s gaze. “We don’t speak about this to anyone,” she finally said. “Especially not Ian. And this can’t happen ever again.” 
“Sure,” he mumbled. “Whatever you say.” 
“I’m serious, Philip,” she pleaded, placing a hand on his chest to get his attention. “If Ian finds out, I’ll never hear the end of it.” 
“I won’t say anything,” he laughed, looking at her in a way he never had before. “But I wouldn’t mind if this happened again.” 
“Are you serious?” 
“What? The rumors are true. You are a good lay.” 
“You’re not too bad yourself, Mr. Gallagher,” she grinned before stopping at the door to exit first. “But I don’t think this will happen again.” 
“Keep telling yourself that, (Y/N).” 
“Fuck off, Philip,” she whispered from the end of the hall before disappearing into the boys’ bedroom, leaving Lip to think of just how he could make this a repeat situation.
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rarilight · 8 months
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Tamagotchi - Ficlet ft. Rarity, Twilight, Fluttershy
PROMPT: Fluttershy asks Twilight to bring back her Tamagotchi pet after it accidentally dies
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When Fluttershy barged into Golden Oaks, reduced to tears, Twilight Sparkle feared the worst. Somepony had upset her sensitive friend, or a book she'd lent her had been accidentally too sad, or worse, one of Fluttershy's animals had died.
Which they had. Sort of. Kind of.
"Please, Twilight," Fluttershy sniffed, dabbing at her puffy eyes with a tissue. "Please, t-there must be something you can do! I've only had Sorbet for a week, and I promise I've taken good care of him, and--"
Twilight pursed her lips, hesitantly looking over the small purple electronic Tamagotchi. "One minute, let me see what I can do." She turned away from Fluttershy, fiddling with it for a moment before determining that, unfortunately, the battery was likely faulty.
"Well?" Fluttershy pressed. "Did you find out what's wrong?"
"I... I think so, yes," Twilight replied, still looking over the device. "The battery is shot. It's an easy fix, and I even have spares to give you, but... Well. The internal memory of these things usually rely on the battery, so--" She turned around to look at Fluttershy, her sentence petering out at the hopeful expression on her friend's face.
"So?" Fluttershy asked, her ears alert. "So you can bring Sorbet back?!"
Twilight smiled. Awkwardly.
"Ha ha. Well. Er."
Fluttershy's ears fell. Tears bordered her eyes anew. "....Twilight?"
"Yes!" Twilight lied, because she couldn't bring herself to tell Fluttershy that Sorbet was gone.”He’ll be there, just like always!”
“Really?!” Fluttershy gasped.
“Yes! Yep. Yes.” Twilight immediately levitated the Tamagotchi over to a bookcase. “Though, I, uh, need to keep him overnight just to make sure he’ll be okay. Alright?” At Fluttershy’s effusive nodding, Twilight apparated a notebook and pen. “And, uh, why don’t you, er, write down all the information you remember about him? Just so I can make sure the coding didn’t change.”
“Of course!” Fluttershy grabbed the notebook and immediately got to work. “Oh, thank you, Twilight!”
----
It was about three in the morning when Twilight Sparkle finally decided it was time to pass the torch. With bleary, tired eyes, she blinked at the details Fluttershy’d written, and then looked at the creature she’d been painstakingly grinding for hours. It had taken her about sixty-eight reboots to get a creature with the same shape, color, nature, gender, and preferences as the original Sorbet, and she’d only just gotten to the halfway point of matching its experience levels to the original’s. 
Thank Celestia for the book she’d read on using magic to hack devices. There was no other way she’d been able to bypass the time-locked events otherwise. 
To the sound of a big yawn, she walked towards the bed, tiredly rubbing the snoring blanketed lump on the couch. 
“Rarity, it’s your turn.”
“Sssssnore.”
Twilight rolled her eyes. “Rarity.”
“SSSSSNOOOOORE.”
“Come on! Up! Why did you send Fluttershy to get my help if you don’t like my solution?” Twilight chided, far too tired for shenanigans. “And stop that, we both know you don’t snore!”
“SSSSNOOOO—” The blanket came off, and a weary Rarity glared at her friend. “Fine, fine!” She magically snatched the Tamagotchi and frowned at it. “This is ridiculous, Twilight! It’s just a game! Sorbet isn’t even real!”
Twilight arched an eyebrow. “Oh? Do you want to tell Fluttershy that?”
Rarity looked away. “...No.”
“That’s what I thought. So, go!” She collapsed onto the couch and covered herself with blanket. “Level twenty-three. Six gifts pending. The complete sunflower outfit.”
“But the minigame is so difficult, and we already have the hat! Isn’t that enou—”
“Complete. Sunflower. Outfit.”
“But—!”
“SNOOOOORE!!!!”
----
“Oh, Twilight!” Fluttershy exclaimed the very next day, her eyes now filled with happy tears as she pressed button on her little device. “He’s fine! I’m so relieved!” She brought the device to her face and nuzzled it. “Oh, Sorbet, I’m so happy!”
“And everything is as you remember?” Twilight asked, the bags under her eyes matching the ones of Rarity, who was napping on the couch. “Not that it would be different, obviously! Because it’s the same Sorbet as always.”
“He’s just like always,” Fluttershy reassured her, allowing Twilight to finally relax. Or, well, until Fluttershy frowned, peering at her electronic friend. “Oh, that’s strange.”
“Strange?” Twilight asked, alert. “What is?”
Fluttershy blinked. “Oh. It’s just… His favorite fruit was oranges, but now it’s apples?”
“He changed his mind,” Rarity said, immediately, without even missing a beat or even turning around on the couch to look. 
Fluttershy looked at her friends, surprised. “He changed his min—?”
“Yep!” Twilight interrupted. “Yep. They do that. Yep.”
“But he really loved orang—”
“Darling!” Rarity continued. “Considering your crush on dear Applejack, it’s only natural he’d switch to apples, yes? Yes,” she interrupted, poor Fluttershy’s cheeks turning thirty different shades of red. “Problem solv—”
Twilight blinked at Fluttershy. “You have a crush on Applejack?”
“Rarity!” a flustered Fluttershy gasped in return.
“SSSSSNOOOOOOOORE….”
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Note
Akaza x pregnant demon reader (she's pregnant by him) sfw +nsfw headcanons
Ask and you shall receive! Thank you for requesting anon, I hope that you enjoy and that I've done your request justice.
If you want to request something for Akaza - or anyone else - then my askbox is always open and ready to receive, so slide something my way again when you have time (^__^.)
I'll be putting the NSFW headcanons beneath a 'Keep Reading' line, so minors DNI
And just as a final thing,
Akkkkkkaaaazzzaa (ノ∀`♥) My beloved!
Akaza with a pregnant S/O - SFW + NSFW Headcanons:
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SFW:
Upon first finding out that your pregnant this man is frozen in the spot before actually crying
Gets extra protective
Doesn't like being away from your side for more then 20 minutes
He is absolutely a hover.... he's always by your side
Will attack on sight if he thinks anyone - and i mean anyone - looks like they might cause you and the little bean harm
Makes sure that there's nothing in the house that could potentially harm you - "I'm sanding down the corners cause i don't want them to poke you or harm you!"
Straight up tells Muzan that he's caring for his wife + baby so won't be doing anything else unless it helps his family - does this mid-meeting and then leaves
Somehow always comes back with something new, baby books (books for new parents), clothes for the baby and toys
No matter how random the cravings if he can't make it, he'll buy you it - and if he can't get it at all then he resorts to hugging you with apology after apology falling from his lips
"You want Teriyaki glazed apple slices with honey rice? AND spicy noodles with broth and boiled eggs...will your stomach even be able to handle that?"
Makes sure to stock up on snacks that you enjoy - keeps them in places you can't reach
When it gets to the point that he can feel the baby kick akaza is glued to you even more - Face and/or hand placed against your tummy to feel the baby with a soft coo + smile
Comes up with a thousand nicknames for the baby - e.g. baby bean, firecracker, little kicker - and no, he will not stop
Buys you bigger + airy clothes so your comfortable
Massages your shoulders, back and ankles when you complain of pain and soreness - When he's not there he buys a wheat bag which you can heat up
Lots more cushions and blankets around the house so your comfy and never get cold
Gets you one of those pregnancy pillows
Has a notebook filled with baby names, what toys re good for babies, what they should be sleeping and playing with - he's honestly very prepared for this child
Somehow managed to rope Kokushibou into helping make and paint the baby's room - as well as giving him advice on what to anticipate as a dad
NSFW:
Incredibly gentle with you - not that he wasn't before - especially since your so much more sensitive
He's more focused on making sure that your comfortable, so sticks to a couple of positions that don't harm/hurt your body - although he does enjoy reverse cowgirl and you on all fours (with your head and arms resting so you don't have the baby weight hurting you)
Sometimes standing up if you have the energy
Also enjoys sex while spooning
Spends more time preparing you - oral and fingers until your essence coats your shaking thighs as well as his face and hands
His hands wander, pinch and soothe your thighs, hips and chest until you whine to get touched more
Isn't gonna fuck you against the counter as much as he used too but he'll eat you out with vigor instead
Lots of over-stimulation - sometimes accidentally but usually on purpose with a smirk and a rumbling purr in his chest
More creampies!
Enjoy's pushing his cum back into your twitching hole afterwards - tracing shapes into your clit with it as he hums as your hips jump and thighs twitch at his touch
His breeding kink really kicks into full swing
The feeling of sliding into your wet plush heat without protection makes him even more feral especially now that you pregnant - its like knowing that your already filled with him, already baring a child, makes his brain works at a mile-a-minute
Won't admit that seeing how heavy + full your breasts get with milk - and how you glow the rounder your tummy gets - goes straight to his cock
....absolutely gonna drink your milk - a dark lust filling his eyes as he runs his tongue along your tender nipple before taking it into his mouth with an obscene moan
Will absolutely play with your nipples until your a whimpering and whining mess or until milk comes out
Kisses are more desperate - planting open mouthed kisses along the column of your throat before locking your lips together
Leaves hickies along your breasts and shoulders alot more
takes things slower and gentler
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espinosaurusrexex · 8 months
Text
Happy Little Accidents
Veteran!BuckyBarnes x Female!ArtTeacher!Reader
summary: In a world after the war, Bucky tries to get pieces of his old self back by joining an art class. He meets you and instantly falls head over heels. Now he just has to work up the courage to ask you out.
a/n: wrote most of this on my lunch break after finally feeling the creativity spark again. I hope you all get a cozy fall feeling.
word count: 3.3k
warnings: adapting to life after war, frustration, a little angst, love-dazed Bucky, just so much fluff and wholesomeness 💕
・゚✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 。✭・゚
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↑ the face of a man too whipped to listen - this is the Bucky vibe today
Steve Rogers was an artist. A lot of people knew about it. Hell, the Smithsonian even had a gallery full of sketches from a notebook of Steve’s he had lost back in ‘45. But Steve never needed people to recognize his work. Just like he never needed all the fame that came with his shield or all the honors he got for doing what he thought normal human decency implied - stopping bullies.
But what not many people knew was that Steve loved his art so much, he even held little sketch workshops in the camps on the western front. He drew each member of the howling commandos with impeccable accuracy. He loved drawing portraits and he loved to help.
Which was why, sooner or later, Bucky had been talked into trying his first sketches back in the day as well. Back when he was still left-handed, back when he found joy in little things such as drawing with his best friend. Back when he was not who he was now.
Yeah, he was bitter about it...
Bucky wasn’t too shabby of an artist per se. He was rather quick with his sketches always able to find the right spot for his next line and even though they weren’t perfect, one could always see what his pictures were meant to present.
Yes, they were crooked and not nearly as good as Steve’s but he had fun with it. Sketching had been an escape for his soul while bombs were exploding only miles away from his camp. It had reminded him of his best friend when they were apart, and most importantly, it taught him patience.
God, so much patience. 
Bucky had never been good with it. Always fast, always right away. But the amount of times Steve made him erase carefully constructed lines and shapes had him feel scolded like a kid.
Later, he was grateful for it.
Now? He hated just touching a pencil. Every time he was reminded of his recovery, of months of frustration and anger, of grief and sadness. All because he’d lost his arm, and with it, all that had brought him joy in life.
When he had to learn to write with his right hand, he screamed at the papers before him, the crooked and shaky lines mocking him with vigor.
You’ll never be the same, they said, You’ll never have true joy back.
He felt like a child. Unable to do the most mundane of tasks, whilst fully aware of what had to be done to get it right.
But he missed it. The way drawing would clear his mind and the ease he felt when thinking of nothing but the next step in the process.
So after a particularly frustrating session with his therapist, Bucky had walked through a gallery on his way home. Beautiful pieces, each more impressive than the next hung on bright white walls until he reached a small corner with sketches and photographs. They weren’t less good than the rest, but other than the huge paintings, they seemed approachable - and they reminded him of times far gone.
“Hello, would you be interested in signing up for a sketching class?” An angelic voice had asked after holding a leaflet into his line of sight. And when he followed the hand up to your face, his breath hitched in his throat.
“I- I don’t think I’d be any good…” he had said with a pitiful smile as his left arm raised next to his head, the sleek silver of his hand shining in the showroom light.
“Oh don’t be silly. Everyone can be an artist.”
And that was all it took.
Now he was here. Sitting in a room with about eight other people, listening to you talk. Though Bucky didn’t pay much attention to your words. He was distracted by the way your lips curved when you spoke, and how your hands looked in the light when you flailed them in the air. He wanted to draw you, only you. But he knew he could never do you justice. And that frustrated him a little.
His first task was easy. A series of connected squiggles and shapes. The second was harder - finding and highlighting familiar motives in his work. But when he tried to connect his shapes, his hand began to tremble and the line on his paper got dented, he huffed in surrender.
A look to the front to you talking with another woman and he was getting off his chair.
This was useless. He should have never come here. 
But when he moved to gather his things, your voice stopped him once again. 
“Oh that’s interesting,” you said with a tilted head, your eyes following the little dent in his drawing. 
“Yeah, I messed it up.” He shook his head and added a careful, much more quiet ‘I always do”.
“You see, it’s only a mistake if you make it one.” You turned to him and smiled and his heart began racing now that all your attention was on him. Bucky looked around to see if anyone noticed, but the other participants were all focused on their work. “I’m not going to tell you that this line isn’t supposed to be the way it is. You alone can decide that.”
You stepped closer as he eyed his paper again. “So, Bucky,” holy crap you remembered his name. And it sounded so good coming from your lips. “Are you gonna make it a mistake or not?”
❁ ❁ ❁
That was a month ago. And Bucky had come to your class every Sunday night since then. But now his crush had only intensified. 
Every time you stepped behind him to watch him work, his hand began to sweat. Every time you gave him a suggestion, his eyes were so drawn to your lips, he barely heard what you were saying. Just yesterday this had caused him to get into a particularly awkward situation. He hadn’t listened, of course - those stupid mesmerizing lips of yours were at fault for it. And when Bucky finally came back from his daydream of imagining what they would feel like on his lips, he knocked over a jar of water as he noticed you had moved next to him. And to make matters even worse, you had caught him talking to himself as he cleaned up the mess. 
Bucky was beyond embarrassed. He wasn’t normally that clumsy, all his moves were calculated. No limb out of control, but when you were around, he seemed to have lost that trait of his - which was actually kind of nice... 
He was in deep. And he didn’t know how to handle it. 
He was contemplating never going back to your class. He would probably end up ruining somebody’s work and - besides - it wasn’t like he could ever work up the courage to ask you out. It was just all too scary. 
“Bucky, is that you?” Bucky froze as he studied the coffee menu above the barista. He was going to order black anyway. But the voice that called out his name almost made him want to pretend he was still studying the sign.
“Bucky.” Your voice came closer and when you were standing next to him, he finally looked at you. And there you were, with a bright smile and a scarf shielding you from the cool fall breeze outside. 
“Oh, hey.” He paused, treading, not knowing what to do with his hands or pretty much any part of his body. At least, in your workshop, he had something to do. “...hey.”
“It’s nice to see you, how’s your homework going?” You rubbed your hands together to warm them and at the sight of your delicate fingers, he felt his cheeks heating up when he imagined holding them. 
“It’s... well, it’s going...” He sighed and watched his feet as they shuffled on the tiled floor. “It’s not going well if I’m being honest.” And with a shy smile, he rubbed the back of his neck, watching as you nodded in understanding. 
“I know it sounds stupid, but sometimes it really helps to just get started without thinking about it too much.”
He chuckled. That was exactly his problem. Because every time he wanted to start, he wondered what you would think about it. And then his thoughts drifted to you entirely and how your neck would bend when you watched him draw over his shoulder, or how your fingers swayed over his artwork to point out the parts you were talking about. God, he loved when you did that. 
“-only if you want, of course.” Your nose crinkled when Bucky’s mind brought him back to the coffee shop again. You were staring at him expectantly, your smile growing nervous with every second he took to register that you had just asked him a question.
Bucky had no idea what you had just said. He had been too lost in his daydream yet again and now he made you look stupid in the middle of this coffee shop. There wasn’t much time to decide what his response would be, but under no circumstance did he want to admit just how scattered he was around you. So without thinking, he just nodded with a tight-lipped smile and willed his knees to stay strong when your eyes brightened.
“Awesome! When are you free?” Free? Did you just ask him out and he hadn’t even paid attention?
“Uh, Sunday?” Bucky stammered as his heart began to pound in his chest. This has got to be a prank. 
You laughed, and Bucky got weak in the knees. “Sunday is workshop, silly.”
Stupid, stupid, Bucky. “Right, uh... Friday then.” The rapid beat in his chest took his breath away.
“Okay, great. Here give me your phone so I can give you my number.”
“You’re–“ Bucky choked as his hands scrambled to fish his phone out of his pocket. “Yes, yeah sure, cool.” Cool? Oh god. 
You took it from him, entered your contact with a little paintbrush emoji, called yourself, and handed it back to his sweaty hand. 
“I’ll text you my address.” You stepped forward to pay and retrieve your coffee, gifting the barista a smile that made him blush - apparently, you were a regular because Bucky did not remember you ordering - but then again - he didn’t really pay attention apparently. “Oh, and bring your art supplies!” 
And then you were out the door, letting crisp air into the cozy coffee shop, and Bucky standing dazed and confused as to what had just happened. 
❁ ❁ ❁
Bucky stared at his phone for the fifth time now, making sure he was in front of the right door before ringing the bell. He was nervous, to say the least. He couldn’t even remember the last time he was on a date, not to mention the last time he felt this nervous about being on one. He was a strong believer in facts but you asking him out had to be a sign from the universe. One he would only get once and he could not screw it up. 
His hands smoothed over his black button-up one last time before adjusting his leather jacket again. Then he rang the bell and not even a minute later, you greeted him with a warm smile and urged him to give you his jacket to hang up. 
“I just made tea, do you want some?” Bucky followed you to the kitchen where the faint but homey scent of pumpkin spice filled the air. He watches as you scrambled to find your oven its and then retrieve something delicious smelling from the oven. “Cookies?” 
“I’m good with tea for now.” He chuckled in awe at how nice your home felt. Once he could tear his eyes away from you, he peered over the kitchen island into your living room, where many different artworks and photographs were displayed on the walls. Every pillow on your sofa had a different color and the blankets sprawled on it and the chair were too inviting for him not to picture the both of you cuddled up beneath them. 
“Alright then, suit yourself. But just know these are my specialty.” You snatched one from the tray before almost dropping it again. “Ouch, hot.”
Bucky felt drawn to the room. With all its warm light and fall-scented candles, hints of read books and discarded crocheting, with a crackling fireplace and soft carpeting. He also felt awfully intimate at the glimpse he got into your life by being here, but he had already declared this place his favorite in his mind. 
“Are you ready?” Bucky turned to you and watched as you padded your hands on your jeans, leaving faint flour prints on the dark denim.
“Ready for what?” He smiled again, he seemed to be unable to stop around you. But he was just so happy to be here, to be close to you, and to finally spend more time with you.
You chuckled and set two cups of tea on the table. “For your sketches. That’s the whole reason you came here for, remember?”
You settled on the ground and padded the sofa for Bucky. But he could just stand there and stare at you while trying to ignore the lump that began to build in his throat. He clenched the bag with his art supplies in his hand and watched as the soft material wrinkled in his grasp.
Of, course. He took a breath. How could he have been so naive? Then stepped towards the sofa. The whole thing had been a mistake. And finally sat down with a heavy smile. 
The sadness was filling him so fast, it threatened to spill right out of him, but Bucky wouldn’t let this little  big  dent in the road be shown in front of you. Instead, he focused on your hands when they pulled his sketch pad from his bag. And your eager smile when you flipped through his failed attempts on the paper. 
The whole atmosphere was wearing a thin layer of sorrow all of a sudden, and Bucky felt his heartache when you leaned over to him to point out the parts you liked the most. Your perfume seemed just that much sweeter as if it were mocking him all of a sudden. 
He didn’t listen. He just watched you with the same longing he’s had ever since he met you. Back to square one. Back to the distance he had with you before he foolishly thought you had asked him out. Except now he’d lost all the confidence left in him to take the next step. 
Bucky let the evening wash over him. Trying to concentrate on your tips and examples, tasting the tea you had offered to him with the sweetest smile. And before he knew it, he was standing in front of your apartment building again - with a box of those pumpkin cookies in hand and a heart that felt heavier than the bricks he was staring at. 
He sighed and began his walk back home.
❁ ❁ ❁
On Sunday he decided that he wouldn’t give up. Bucky didn't know what changed his mind. He just knew that he couldn’t stop thinking about you and him on that incredibly comfortable sofa of yours and the scent of your cedar and cinnamon candle which seemed to linger on his skin for days after his visit. He wanted to play the sketching games he had half-heartedly endured last time and he wanted to become a better artist. 
Bucky had left your cookie box at home as an excuse to meet up with you again. And even though he was sweating ferociously when he approached you after class, you had agreed to meet with him again. 
He’d left the gallery with a bright smile that evening. Excited for the next time he’d see you again and eager with daydreams on the subway home.
You and Bucky met up every week. Every time, spending a little longer not just drawing and it filled his heart with warmth and happiness. You shared laughter, and, in Bucky’s eyes, a growing connection with every passing meeting. 
He learned about your dreams and aspirations and told you about his past, his interests, and his most treasured fantasies.
As weeks turned into months, Bucky found himself drawn to you in more ways than the warmth radiating from your smile he’d noticed the first day he met you, or your talent of calmly helping him in every way possible. He admired your passion for art, your kindness, and your enchanting presence. The fear and the shyness that had gripped him at first, slowly faded away - replaced by a sense of comfort when he was with you. 
And soon he realized that there was nothing he didn’t love about you. This was how he got the courage to, on one calm evening spent on your sofa, between the colorful pillows he had been thinking about falling asleep on for weeks, place his hand in yours and intertwine your fingers with his. 
“I got something for you,” he whispered between dialogues of the Halloween movie playing on TV, watching as your eyes aimed up at him with curiosity. 
With reluctance, he peeled himself out of the warm blanket you shared and trudged to the sketchbook hidden in his bag. The initial idea had been dipped in silly confidence. But it was too late to back out now. He’d already told you about it. 
So despite his nervous heartbeat, Bucky came back to the sofa and handed you the book. 
“Open it,” he nudged when you carefully inspected the black leather binding, unaware of the confession hidden beneath. 
And when you did, he felt he could read every expression on your face like a poem. 
The book was filled with sketches of you. The first pages were scattered in hasty pencil drawings, misplaced lines, and unintentional dents. Then followed the section in which he had tried to pay attention to detail. The curve of your nose or the arch of your fingers when they pointed at his artwork. He could see them now, hovering over the sketches himself, and when you turned to the last page of the section, he could see the striking resemblance between them. And so did you. On the next turn, you revealed the latest portraits he’d added to the book - finally confident enough to attempt doing what he saw you as justice, to finally look past his mistakes - or happy little accidents as you called them - and just try it. 
Bucky had discovered that your weekly sketch sessions had done him good. And that you had secretly given him back what he had mourned after for so long.
“I couldn’t keep my eyes off you from the moment we met.” He whispered still, too afraid to break the moment you’d just created. “Thought it was time for me to tell you.”
Your eyes were glassy when you tore them from the pages in your hand, a shaky laugh escaping your lips when Bucky beamed down at you. “You did all of this for me-”
“Because of you,” he corrected and wiped a lonely tear from your cheek. “I never thought I could get the joy of drawing back until you showed me how.”
Bucky leaned in closer until your noses touched. “How to be less critical of myself.” He closed his eyes and let his hand linger on your skin. “And how to welcome a mistake by making it an accident-” 
And before he could finish that sentence, he felt your lips press to his and your warm hands wrap around his neck to pull him into your body. Bucky shivered in excitement, letting his hands trail down your back and falling into the soft cushions of your sofa while he pressed you to his chest protectively.
He sighed into the kiss, feeling his heart burn with excitement. 
Fascinating, how fast a mistake can turn into a happy little accident. 
I love you Bob Ross <3
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921 notes · View notes
roosterforme · 7 months
Text
Adult Education Part 8 | Hangman x OC
Summary: Plans for the fraternity alumni fundraiser that Jessica is in charge of are starting to take shape. And things with Jake are starting to heat up. But even after she tries her best to take care of her students in her own way, she feels like she will never be successful at this college.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, smutty thigh riding, 18+
Length: 5200 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC
This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist
Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32
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Jessica settled down in the spare seat in her friend's office with her slightly stale peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a notebook. "Wait, say that again. Beer pong with micro brewed beer? Come on, Advanced Calculus. Doesn't that kind of defeat the purpose of the frat boy vibe?" she asked with her pencil poised over the paper. 
The other woman laughed as she ate the turkey and avocado roll ups that her husband packed for her gorgeous looking lunch. Jessica would have had some of Jake's chili to bring except that she finished all of it on Sunday and Monday while she texted him about how good it was. 
"It would be an elevated frat boy vibe. I spent the weekend asking my husband what he would want out of an alumni event with his fraternity, and he came up with some pretty compelling ideas."
Jessica bit into her sandwich with a frown and chewed. "But depending on the turnout, a few kegs of fancy beer could be very expensive."
She shook her head and offered Jessica some mixed berries and a honey dipping sauce which she immediately accepted. "No, because Bradley knows a guy who owns a brewery in Solana Beach. He said he'd ask for a favor if you wanted him to."
Jessica perked up immediately. She had a friend. A friend who had a nice husband who was offering to help her out. As much as she wanted to dream big and believe she could get tenure if this thing was successful, she was afraid to hope too hard. 
But she couldn't help herself. "Solana Beach isn't that far away. You think this guy would really cut me some sort of deal? My budget from the school is pretty tiny."
She shrugged. "He was in Bradley's fraternity at UVA. He's actually a really nice guy, so I wouldn't be too surprised."
Jessica only had to think about it for another second. "Okay yes. I am very interested in this idea." Then she ate a few more berries and jotted down some other ideas they came up with. hors d'oeuvres from the culinary school
frat boys in tuxedos
sparkling wine
silent auction
As she was finishing the last item, the other woman asked, "How was your weekend with Jake?"
When Jessica met her eyes, she could tell she was blushing. But she laughed softly and said, "I think he's my boyfriend?"
"Really?" she asked, nearly dropping her turkey roll up on her lap. "I'm sorry, but are you serious? You and Jake are exclusive?"
"Yes," Jessica whispered. Right? Hadn't he made it clear he wasn't seeing anyone else and didn't want to? Oh shit. It had been so long since she'd done this, maybe she wasn't even doing it correctly. "Is that okay?"
"Oh my god! He just... I don't think... I don't ever remember mention of him having a girlfriend. Usually he just-" She cut herself off with a wince.
"Picks girls up for the night?" Jessica supplied. She sensed that about him and the way he'd told her some things about himself. But he also bought a new truck so he could make sure he was on time to see her. There was a lot to unpack here.
"Well. Yeah. But I'm not saying I'm surprised that he's into you! You're great! I'm just surprised in general."
"Same." She just hoped she wasn't about to make a fool of herself when Jake stopped by later during her office hours. When she uncrossed and recrossed her legs, she could feel the pull of the green lace against her skin underneath her cute pleated skirt, and her sheer stockings felt like silk. 
"Aside from the fact that he once called me Dr. Tits when he was belligerently drunk at my house, Jake is, and I say this a bit begrudgingly, actually really sweet. And kind. He dropped off two tickets for a Grateful Dead cover band last night since Bradley drove him around a few times after his truck broke down."
"I'm sorry.... did you say he called you Dr. Tits? Please, I'm going to need you to elaborate on that."
-----------------------------
Jake spent Monday night making the most perfect lasagna of his life and waiting until it cooled down to pack some individual containers for Jessica. Then when he left for work on Tuesday, he left them all lined up in his refrigerator so he could grab them on his way to her office hours. 
There was a guest speaker today, and Jake grabbed the empty seat next to Bradley who was trying to discreetly text his wife under the table before the lecture started. 
"What's Dr. Tits up to?" he drawled, earning an eye roll. 
"Text her yourself if you want to know," came the raspy response. "I'm going right to campus after work today to keep her company while she's on a phone conference," he added with a smirk. "Might stop by and talk to your girlfriend about her fundraiser while I'm there."
"That fraternity thing she has to do?" 
"Yeah," Bradley replied, finally putting his phone away. "Sugar asked me to be nice to her, so I'm going to try to save her some money on beer from Beta Brewing."
"Isn't that the place that ages the beer in bourbon barrels and sells it for an outrageous price?"
"Yeah," Bradley said with a laugh. "A guy who was in my fraternity owns it. I haven't seen him in a bit, but I was kind enough to text him on behalf of Jessica. Now will you please stop calling my wife Dr. Tits?"
"No," Jake replied smoothly as Maverick called everyone to attention. 
Bradley just grunted in response.
When they were released from the lecture, Jessica's office hours had already begun. Jake hadn't texted her much since he knew Tuesdays were busy for her. He just needed to get there before 7:00, because somehow if he arrived during her office hours, it made him feel like her student. And that made everything feel a little dirty. And he really fucking liked that. Plus she told him she was going to wear something sexy, and he'd been dying to find out what that meant.
He swung by his place and picked up the containers of lasagna and packed them in a cooler, and then he was off in his new truck. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd visited this part of the city before he met Jessica, but now he was constantly searching the side streets along campus for a parking spot. Tonight he found one on the same block as a familiar, blue Bronco.
Of course he got some looks from the college girls as he strolled toward the math and science building in his khaki uniform, but he was met with a glare from a man a little older than him with salt and pepper hair when he walked inside. 
"Evening," Jake drawled as the other man silently examined his uniform. He could feel eyes on him as he walked toward the elevators. It wasn't like he was forbidden to be here, so he just ignored him. This ride up to her floor and the walk down the hallway had become familiar to Jake. But when he raised his hand to knock, he heard the doorknob turn from the inside along with Jessica's muffled voice. So he leaned back against the opposite wall as the door cracked open. 
"Luca, there's no way I'm going to try out your skateboard."
"Come on, Dr. Reed. Just for a minute? It'll be really fun. But you probably shouldn't wear high heels."
She sighed and pulled her door open further, but she didn't notice Jake yet. "Fine. I'll try your skateboard on Thursday only after you show up on time and give me a full hour of your best effort."
"Sweet!" Luca said, giving her a high five. But now she was distracted by Jake as he smiled at her. 
"Not in the hallway!" Jessica shouted after Luca who set his board down and promptly picked it back up again. 
"My bad, Dr. Reed!"
Jessica was already wrapped up in Jake's arm, her lips ghosting over his. "Hey, Reedy," he whispered, and then he was being jerked away from the wall as she led him inside and closed the door, leaning back against it.
"Hi," she whispered back. Jake let his eyes drift down over her petite form and back up again, every inch of clothing and everything that was bare to him was making him salivate. She had on a rather short pleated skirt with sheer stockings and black heels. Plus he could see the telltale green strap peeking out from the white camisole as her cardigan slipped down her bare shoulder.
He swallowed hard. "You look nice, Baby. You having a good day?"
"Yes!" she gushed, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him harder this time. "My faculty meeting was blessedly canceled this morning, and I ate lunch with Advanced Calculus." 
Jake set the cooler down on her desk in the tiny office so he could have better access to her body. "That's great. You call her Advanced Calculus? That's actually so cute," he said as his hands came to rest on her hips. 
Jessica laughed, and he felt warm all over. "Yes, and she calls me Advanced Physics. And she's helping me plan that fraternity fundraiser along with her husband. Bradley actually stopped by a little while ago, before Luca was here. He's just the best. Advanced Calculus is so lucky."
"He's the best?" Jake asked, one eyebrow raised as he leaned down and kissed her bare shoulder making her shiver. "She's so lucky?"
When he ran his nose along that pretty green bra strap, she gasped. "Not as lucky as me."
Jake chuckled and murmured, "That's my smart girl." He brushed her hair aside and kissed his way from her shoulder up her neck to her ear while she clung to him. 
She cleared her throat and asked, "How was your day?" as she tried to pull away from him. But Jake kept her right where she was. 
"Better now," he promised. "Had to sit through a talk about the updates coming to my jet this summer. A new mechanical override and an updated comms system among other things."
"Ohhh," she sighed. "Did they give you a new spec sheet?" Her eyes were curious behind her glasses, and Jake was grinning.
"Sure did. You wanna see it?"
"Yes!"
"Well, that's classified, Baby."
She pouted and said, "Come on, Jake. I won't tell anyone. Can't you sneak one home with you or something?"
He ran his big hands up and down her back. "You want to work out some of the calculations, don't you?"
"Of course I do," she replied softly, and Jake was getting a little hot just thinking about her sitting in his kitchen with a pencil and a calculator. He trailed his hand down to her ass, and she was kissing him again as she touched his pins.
"If you really want to see them," he said between kisses, "I'll sneak them out." She giggled as she kissed his neck, and then his nose was buried in her hair. "God, you look so sexy, and you smell so sweet."
Her glasses bumped his cheek when she kissed his ear and raked her fingers through his hair. Every inch of the front of her body was pressed to his, and Jake just knew there was no coming back from this right now. Jessica had dressed like this with him in mind, and while her outfit was totally work appropriate, it was also a thing of fantasies. Skirts and heels and green lingerie and stockings. 
"I can't seem to stop thinking about you," she said in the sweetest voice before she sucked on his lip. He wondered if her stockings were the kind that ended at her thighs or the ones that went all the way up to her waist. He needed to know. She didn't make him wait for an answer. Jessica guided him to the chair behind her desk, and he sat down a little hard. She was standing right in front of him with her gaze fixed on his pants, and when Jake glanced down, he could see the outline of his cock as he stood at attention for her. 
"I'm sorry," he grunted, "but you turn me on so much."
"Don't apologize," she breathed, and he was treated to the sight of her sliding that cardigan down her arms. When she turned slightly and dropped it onto her desk, her skirt rode up her leg. Jake could see the lace trimmed top of her stocking hugging her thigh, and he groaned so loudly, her gaze snapped back to his. 
"Jessica." His voice was a needy whine, and for some reason this was so much worse than when he almost fucked her on his couch. Because she was his girl now, and he wanted every inch of her well acquainted with every inch of him. "Come here." When he patted his right thigh, she obeyed him immediately, coming to stand with his knee between her legs. 
Then she hesitated, and Jake didn't want to push anything. When he was just about to tell her that nothing sexual needed to happen here, he watched her reach up underneath her skirt and bend a little at the waist. His gaze shifted so rapidly from her pretty eyes to the lacy tops of her sheer stockings, he thought he might pass out. And then she started to slide that green thong down her hips to her thighs, and Jake caught the briefest glimpse of her pussy before her underwear was down her legs and her skirt fell into place once more.
"Fuck. Jessica." He was a panting mess as she stepped out of her thong and handed it to him. It was wet, and when he pressed it to his nose, it smelled incredible. And she was once again positioning herself with her legs straddling his right one before she came to rest with her pussy on his khaki covered thigh.
"Is this okay?" she whispered as her right knee nudged his cock, and his head tipped back slightly. She bit her lip and ran one gentle finger along his name tag, spelling out SERESIN while she looked him in the eye. 
"Yeah," he groaned. "God. It's more than okay." She kissed him with her palm planted on his chest, and Jake was living for the way her hips rocked forward. 
Her glasses and hair were tickling his face as she brought her other hand up to his neck, and then Jessica rocked her hips back and forward once again along his thigh. There was a smile on her lips as she kissed him and whispered, "You can set that down, you know." 
Jake was still gripping her thong in his hand, and he pressed it to his mouth and lips one more time before stuffing it in his breast pocket. The fact that she was rubbing her bare ass and pussy on his uniform had him painfully hard, but he didn't want her to stop. This was a thousand times better than any lap dance he'd ever had before. 
"You excited to see me today, Baby?" he asked, squeezing both of her knees with his hands and then guiding them up to her skirt. "This is a very warm welcome."
Her cheeks were flushed as Jake pushed her skirt up a few inches to play with the lace stockings. When he ran his thumbs along the soft, bare skin of her inner thighs, she whined his name. "Jake!" 
"Fuck," he grunted, squeezing her with both hands as she rode his thigh, now gripping both of his shoulders. She was kind of jerking her hips along as her glasses slid down her nose. Jake leaned in to kiss her neck and chest as he whispered, "You gonna get off like this?" She squeaked as his fingers toyed with her stockings before he brushed her wet slit with his thumb. 
"I never did before," she said, eyes a little wild now. Every time she rolled her hips back so she was sitting on her ass, she grunted a soft little sound that almost sent him through the roof. 
"Baby, you can't tell me things like that and make those perfect little sounds okay?" he whispered. "Because now I need to get you off." He guided one hand around to palm her bare ass and tipped her chin up with the other. "Okay?" he asked, running his thumb along her lips. She nodded and kissed his thumbprint before he reached down and lifted up her skirt. "Holy hell," he moaned. Her pussy looked exquisite, and there was a wet spot the size of her palm on his service khakis from her slick.
While he was absolutely aching to get his cock inside her, he knew there would be time for that later. This weekend, perhaps. But right now, he thought she was close to coming on his fucking uniform. In her goddamn office. On the college campus. And he needed to make it a reality, because he could feel her wetness on his leg as she ground down against him. 
So he kept his left hand on her ass, guiding her movements just a little slower as he took one more look at her pink pussy spread open for him, and he stroked her clit with his right thumb. And then Jessica was shaking almost instantly as she kissed his lips and muttered something incoherent. 
"Come on baby. You're so close," he whispered between kisses. "This is so hot." Every time her knee bumped his cock, he thought he might cum in his pants, but he kept her going. 
"Oh. My. God!" she whined suddenly before sucking in a deep breath and arching her back. Jake rubbed his face across her tits, nipples peaked through the fabric of her bra and camisole. And then she was coming and keening, and he eased up the pressure of his thumb and enjoyed every sound she made for him.
Jessica collapsed against his chest, lips pressed to his ear and cheek as she combed her fingers through his hair and rode out the little aftershocks. He ran his hand along her ass, stroking her until she stopped rocking gently against him. As she kissed her way to his lips, her fingers found his insignia pins just like always. Their kisses were soft and leisurely like she'd really worn herself out, and when she shifted, he grunted as her knee nudged his cock again.
She looked at him with wide eyes as she brought her hand down to his pants. "I'm so sorry," she gasped with a soft laugh. "I'm in such a daze, I wasn't even thinking. Let me take care of you."
Jake was shaking his head and immediately reaching for her hand. "Absolutely not." He would cum in an instant if she touched his bare dick with any part of her pretty body, and that was not something he was interested in at the moment. 
"Why not?" she asked, looking thoroughly upset now as she pulled away from him to stand. Jake had to bite his knuckle at the sight of the mess she left on his khakis, and his cock jumped painfully in his pants. 
"Baby, look what you did," he crooned, gesturing at his thigh. "It's gorgeous." But when he met her eyes, she was blushing and reaching for her cardigan. "Jessica, I can't have you taking care of this for me right now. I'm too worked up, and I'd rather have blue balls than cum as soon as you look at me, okay?"
She laughed as she pulled her sweater on, and she let Jake kiss her. "Okay," she replied softly as she looked down at his wet pants. "I can't believe I did that."
"Listen," he whispered, boxing her in between his body and her desk. "I think you should come spend the weekend at my place. Pack an overnight back and some more journals... the real sexy ones on the top shelf over there." He jerked his chin toward her bookshelf. "And I'll steal you a top secret spec sheet that could cost me some of my pins that you like touching so much."
"I could do that," she replied with a smile. "I need to go up to Beta Brewing with Bradley on Saturday morning, but after that, I'm free."
Jake kissed her as he pulled her green thong out of his pocket. "Sounds perfect. And I'm going to need you to wear this again on Saturday, okay? I didn't even get to see the bra yet."
She balled it up in her hand like she was suddenly embarrassed by it. "Alright." But he tipped her chin up again so she was looking at him.
"I can't get enough of you."
Then the sweet kisses returned before she took him by the hand and selected a small stack of journals for him to take him. "Here's a spicy one from the top shelf," she told him with a smile that made him feel weak. Then he said he would walk her and the cooler of food to her car. And she tried to hide her face against his pins when that same guy was walking through the lobby again, because Jake still had a wet spot on his pants from her pussy. 
"You think I care?" he whispered to her before he nodded at the guy with salt and pepper hair. "I got my girl with me, and she got off on me."
"Jake," she gasped with a laugh, pulling him outside quickly. "He's the head of the chemistry department. And he already hates me."
"Who in their right mind could hate you?" His mind drifted for a moment to all the supposed rumors about her that were floating around. "Wait, is he the guy who got permanently banned from Chippy's?" He dug his feet in and there was no way she could pull him anywhere. "Why doesn't he like you?"
Jake was turning back to look into the building, ready to give this asshole a piece of his mind, but Jessica was still pulling on him. "Don't worry about it. Walk me to my car so we can make out." But he was going to worry about it. And yeah, he made out with her next to her car until he was starting to get hard again, which was honestly very painful now. And he was still thinking about it when he watched her pull away. He headed home to jerk off and start to consider what he could cook this weekend, but it still really irritated him that someone found something to dislike about the first woman he ever thought he could be serious with. Because in his mind, she was perfect. 
-----------------------------
"Luca, focus on the math, or I'm not going to embarrass myself on your skateboard."
"Sorry, Dr. Reed."
Jessica had to keep drawing her failing student's attention back to the problem sheet in front of him, but that threat really seemed to do the trick. For some reason, this kid really wanted to see her eat asphalt. And now he was solving all of the problems correctly. "Yes! Keep going." She watched him write out the long equation for the last question, and she murmured, "One just like that will be on the exam next week."
"Sweet," he replied with a smile. "I'll study this weekend. Weather is supposed to be shitty for surfing."
She rolled her eyes but collected his paper when he was finished. "This is all correct," she said as she stood up on the other side of the desk in her sneakers and pantsuit. "You just always rush instead of taking your time. I know you can pass my classes. You need them to graduate on time."
"I know," he whined and sat back in the other chair. "I'll keep coming to your office hours."
"Just keep trying and keep studying. I know it's not as hard as you think it is."
Then he stood and picked up his skateboard, and Jessica groaned. "Okay, but only for a minute."
"You say that now, but I think you're going to love it," Luca said as she followed him out of her office and down the hallway. "You're at least fifty years younger than everyone else who works here. You might think skateboarding is fun."
Jessica had to stifle a snort as they walked past Dr. Leeland's open door where he was napping in his chair. "That's not polite, Luca," she managed to say.
"Yeah, but it's still true."
On the ride down the elevator, she listened to him explain how to keep yourself balanced while riding. "Don't make any sudden movements. And don't lean backwards. Actually, don't lean forward either."
Jessica sighed. At least she could spend about a half second on this skateboard and then excuse herself back up to her office to pack up. Then she could call Jake on her way home and hear his sexy voice and talk about the weekend.
Once they were outside on the deserted sidewalk which was lit up by the dying sunset and campus security lights, Luca set the skateboard down with a huge grin on his face. "You're the coolest, Professor Reed. Now step up with your right foot."
She tried it and shook her head before planting both feet back on the ground. "Nope. It's already rolling away!"
"Here. I'll stand on the front so it won't move so much while you get on it."
With a deep sigh, she tried it again, but she started wobbling from side to side this time. "Luca!" she gasped, reaching for his outstretched hand. "This is not fun!"
He was laughing as he said, "It takes practice. Just hold my hand for a second and push off with your left foot." When he removed his foot from the board, she pushed off and went gliding forward as she screeched and held onto his hand with a death grip. "Yeah! That's it!" 
She jumped off, looked at him, and said, "Can I do it again?" 
Five minutes later, she was laughing as she tried pushing off with her right foot. "I can recommend a great skate shop for you!" Luca said as she slowly skated away from him and down the sidewalk. Damn, this was kind of addicting. She jumped down and skated back toward him as she cackled.
"You better move. I'm coming in hot!" she said, rolling so slowly it was laughable. Then she looked up into the icy blue eyes of Brian Conley who was scowling at her. She jumped awkwardly off of the skateboard, and it continued to roll to Luca who picked it up.
"What the hell are you doing, Dr. Reed?" Brian practically yelled even though she was right in front of him. She hated that she immediately felt tears stinging behind her eyes. "Can't you be professional for even just ten minutes?"
"I was just-" she started, but then Luca cut in when she really wished he wouldn't.
"It was my idea, Dr. Conley. Dr. Reed just finished tutoring me, and I thought it would be fun."
Brian just shook his head and sighed. "That's enough fun for one day I think."
"I'm sorry, Dr. Reed," Luca muttered as he hoisted his backpack on and started skating away. And then Jessica really wished she could vanish, because Jake was heading up the sidewalk at a blistering pace, a scowl on his handsome features while Brian went off.
"It's not your job to be messing around with your students. It is your job to be teaching them. I know for a fact that you have several students failing your classes, and I don't think skateboarding with them is quite the correct answer here, do you? If you think you're even close to being qualified for tenure, you are out of your mind!"
All she could picture was Leeland asleep during his office hours. All she wanted to do was relate to Luca a little bit to keep him interested in things. She was just upholding her end of the bargain since he did so great with the practice problems.
"You're such an asshole," she whispered as her vision blurred with unshed tears. 
When Brian took a step closer so that he was almost touching her, Jessica heard Jake's voice call out in a loud bark. "Hey! Why is she crying?"
"I'm okay," she said softly which just made her want to cry even more. She pushed Brian away from herself and walked the rest of the way toward Jake who had his hands in fists and fire in his eyes. "I'm okay." She had to plant both palms on his chest to get him to look at her instead of Brian. 
"Why are you crying?" he asked, gentler this time as Brian stormed back inside the building. "Should I be going after him?"
"No," she said as she hiccuped, and Jake pulled her against his chest so her glasses got smashed at a weird angle. But she immediately felt better. "What are you doing here?"
He rubbed her back and said, "I missed you and thought maybe you'd want to go to Chippy's after your office hours. I know you were supposed to help that kid Luca, but I figured you might feel like getting a Sam Adams with me. Didn't know I'd potentially have to kick that guy's ass."
Jessica felt like she was going to say something she had no business telling him yet. So she tamped down the words and instead said, "You don't need to kick Brian Conley's ass. He's not even worth it. And I would absolutely love to go to Chippy's with you."
She kissed Jake long and hard on the lips before leading him inside and back up to her office to pack up her things and lock the door. Then they walked across the street, hand in hand. Jake held the door for her, and he finally looked a little calmer now as he walked into Chippy's right behind her. 
"I'm just waiting for him to glare at me," Jake said as he wrapped his arm around her waist. "I really need to take you to the Hard Deck one night, because honestly, Penny could give him a run for his money."
"I'd love to see that," she said with her first smile since she was on the skateboard. She laced her fingers with Jake's and led him to an empty table.
"Reedy," Chippy called out, and sure enough, there was a special glare reserved for Jake. Jessica was beaming by the time he pulled out a stool for her and kissed her. 
"I'll be right back. Hopefully," Jake said with a look of extreme fear as he headed to the bar. This was her peaceful space away from Brian. And she felt safe with Jake and Chippy. And Jake was completely right; a beer and some peanuts were exactly what she needed right now. 
-----------------------------
Can't wait to check in with Beer Boy's former frat brother. And can't wait for Reedy to spend some more time at Jake's place. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 9
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sevi-rous · 2 years
Text
AN ARTIST FOR AN ARTIST 📜
xavier thorpe.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
word count : 1.196
genre : fluff, schoolmates to lovers (?), mutual pining
warnings : bad grammar i think, a few errors [ please ignore ! ]
being raised in a family of artistic vampires was an emotional roller coaster. there was your mother, who had a ridiculous fondness for landscape painting. your father, who enjoyed abstract paintings and portrait drawings. your brother, who was a fan of realism. and, of course, you, who was a mixture of them all.
you were walking around campus, looking for anything interesting to draw or paint. you came to a halt near the archery field and noticed xavier thorpe sitting down with his bow beside him. you turned around and sat down on the nearest chair.
you began drawing him because you found his appearance intriguing. his face shape was... pretty. of course, in your own opinion. your gaze alternates between him and your sketchbook. your fingertips were filthy from smudging the pencil. you were finished in a matter of minutes. you sighed and stood up to return to your dorm.
"oh, who's that?" inquired your roommate, yoko. you flinched and instinctively shut your sketchbook. "uh, no one. it's my oc. original character, i mean..." you said as you sat up in bed. "are you sure? that looks exactly like xavier thorpe. since when was he your 'original character?'" she asks, chuckling.
you sighed and leaned back in your bed. turning to the side "oooh, do you like him? i can set you up with him," she whistles as she walks to her side of the room. "and how will you do that? you're not even close, yoko. i think you don't even talk together," you say, sitting up again, arms crossed across your chest.
"oh shush, [name]. we're not close, but we have this secret society. i hope you understand," she said as she opened her notebook. she takes out a pen and starts writing. she then folds it into an airplane and launches it at you.
you caught the plane and unfolded the paper. It was written there,
"xavier thorpe's phone number — xxx-xxxx-xxx
thank me later, ♡"
you give her a blank look before taking your phone and leaving the room. "stay safe, my lovely [name!]," she exclaims before laughing.
you put your hood on when you noticed it was raining outside. you walked through the halls, holding the paper that yoko had given you as well as your phone. you went around in circles, debating whether or not to text him. a notification appeared as you were about to enter his phone number.
from unknown:
hey, i saw you staring. do we have a problem?
to unknown:
uh
who even r u
fom unknown:
dang you already forgot? seems like you were having a good time staring at me earlier
lol kidding
it's xavier
to unknown:
oh
sorry i stared, didn't know u saw me
from unknown:
how couldn't i? you have a very powerful aura
to unknown:
i do?
from unknown:
yeah
what do you say about meeting up rn? i'm bored
to unknown:
um sure i guess
i have nothing to do anyways
from unknown:
i know
unknown started sharing their location with you.
you ran back to your dorm room, your fingers running through your hair. you rushed through the door, grabbing your sketchbook in haste. "woah, easy [name], are you okay?" yoko asks, but you've already left. "my roomie has a crush. i can't wait to tease her about this," she sighs and laughs.
when you see him waiting for you, you hide in a corner. he was sketching something in his own sketchbook. he had airpods in both of his ears. you can tell he's lost in the music because he kept bopping his head to the beat. it's nice to see him at ease.
you approach him slowly, but he is too preoccupied with drawing. you sit next to him, peering at what he's drawing. he flinched seeing you next to him, then hugged his sketchbook as if it were going to vanish. you both look at each other in shock, but when you see his face, you start laughing.
"why are you laughing?" he inquired, removing one of his airpods and placing it in its case. he flipped the sketchbook over and placed it beside him so you couldn't see it. "your face is hilarious," you continued to laugh.
"is that supposed to be a compliment or not?" you ask, making him scoff. "we only met today, and you're already making fun of me," he said, putting his hand on his chest and acting hurt. you laughed at his antics and looked through his sketchbook. "what did you draw earlier?"
"uh, random stuff. do you want to see my ability?" he asks, his gaze drawn to yours. "sure, bet it's cool."
"oh, it is," he laughs as he takes up his sketchbook. he turns to a page where he drew a spider. he holds his hands above the drawing, and you can see the spider slowly emerge from it. "woah, that's cool. is it real?" you exclaim, your eyes wide with admiration and curiosity. "no, squish it."
you let the spider crawl onto your hands then you squish the spider. the spider vanishes into dust. xavier can't seem to take his gaze away from you as your mouth forms a 'o.'
"say... why were you staring at me earlier? at the archery field?" he asks abruptly, jolting you awake from your daydream. "oh that. um," you fiddle with your fingers, debating whether or not to show him what you drew.
you sighed, lost. you reached for your sketchbook, which was resting on your thighs, and turned to the last page. you look away from him as you hand him your book.
he silently scans the page. you were clearly thinking a lot. 'was he mad that I drew him without his permission?' 'does the drawing look bad? "Am I bad at portrai—'
when he handed you back your book, you snapped out of your thoughts. when you looked at him, he was looking straight ahead. he appeared to have a lot on his mind.
"is it bad?" you wonder nervously. you were on the verge of fleeing, too embarrassed to listen to what he had to say. he gives you a quick glance before returning his attention to the scenery in front of him.
you were about to turn away when you noticed a small smile on his face. "no one's ever drawn me. i figured no one would draw me because I'm the artist. but you did. it's nice seeing my face on your sketchbook. it's nice. really nice," he rambles, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.
"actually, i've been drawing you as well. i saw you once at Weathervane and you looked... cool. i don't usually leave nevermore, but i came to stop by weathervane every single day just to see you. oh god, that... sounds creepy, sorry," he laughs nervously, avoiding your gaze.
"no, it's fine. you're cool. this is all... so cool," you say, smiling up at the ceiling. "thank you," he mumbles.
"hm? for what?"
"for drawing me."
"And thank you," you say with a smile.
he looks at you, puzzled.
"for drawing me as well."
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© sevi-rous (0i8ma). do not plagiarize, copy, repost, or translate my work. reblogs are appreciated.
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