roslintheredfox's Literatures

The first kiss they shared was quick and awkward, full of nerves and unresolved emotions but it didn't fail to make her flustered despite the urgency to find Jonathan's younger brother, Will. Her heart fluttered when his lips lingered against hers after breaking the kiss, his features softening a fraction and crumbling down the stress he felt.

Her fingers slid through his chestnut tinted locks, hips rolling up into his desperately which stunted Jonathan's motions while his tongue coaxed hers into a tantalizingly seductive dance. Feeling the need overwhelming need to breathe, the two broke apart while a thing string of saliva kept their lips connected, eyes hazing over and breaths panting as Dora's tongue swept over her lip to break the connection.

Ushering her inside, Jonathan hurriedly swallowed her in a large and warm towel to dry her off. Chocolate hues traced her form, unintentionally observing the way her clothes clung to her lithe frame and revealed the ample curves that made him swallow harshly.

I hurt myself 👁️ 💧👄💧👁️

Theodora Gray was an ethereal being, seemingly glowing every single time he spotted her through the lense of his camera. The number of photographs he had of her could borderline on creepy, but he learned a lot from observing her through each and every one.

"So, this is the kind of music you like." Dora's melodious laugh fluttered through Jonathan's ears, watching as the blonde flicked through the neatly organized array of cassette tapes with sparkling blue irises.

Dainty fingertips danced across the sharp cheekbones in a featherlight touch, brushing back the golden curls that obscured the handsome facial features of Billy Hargrove. It was rare for Nicola to observe Billy so relaxed, given the frequent nightmares and abuse he suffered weighing heavily on his mind, but she relished in the scarcity of it all. The way his long eyelashes kissed his cheekbones paired with the rise and fall of his chest with each breath he took while he slept was burned into the redheads memory for years to come.

A smile tugged at the corners of Jonathan's lips as he shifted on the mattress to get a better view of Dora's ethereal being, glowing in the rays of the sun that cascaded across her half naked curves. Calloused palms ghosted down the sides of her body, watching her eyes flicker effectively rousing her from her slumber as ocean blue hues glazed over with mirth at the sight before her.

"Chillax, man," Argyle's voice broke Jonathan from his thoughts with a lopsided smile on his lips. "You want some Purple Palm Tree Delight my dude?" He questioned, reaching into his pocket before Jonathan's lightning fast reflexes kicked in.

To say Jonathan had a crush on Theodora Gray would be a massive understatement. Ever since he first locked eyes on her in the parking lot of Hawkin's High, he had been smitten, lost in vivid daydreams of possible scenarios of what could be.

An angel soft chuckle from Dora as she leaned down to silence Jonathan with another kiss with a smile gracing her lips, one which he returned.

Dragging his lips back up her chest, red marks littering the sun kissed glow of her skin left in his wake, he kissed her desperately. "How does that feel?" He questioned, throat going dry at her forwardness of her tongue slipping into his mouth, fingernails leaving crescent moon shaped on his scalp and shoulders.

Layers of silk and tulle, dotted with crystals and lace captured his attention first, dragging his eyes slowly up the lithe figure of the woman walking towards him. Dare he say, it was the most ethereal she's ever looked; his wildest dreams couldn't fathom up the intricacies and details that hung off her delicate figure, wrapping her in a delicate bow.

One of his favorite ways to show affection spawned from Dora herself when he dropped her off after school one particular fall afternoon. He remembers vividly as she smiled, leaning over to him with the setting sun illuminating her as their noses brushed against one another in a gentle show of affection that caused his breath to hitch.

Photography was among one of Jonathan's treasured passion, one most people mocked and criticized by calling him derogatory names. It was a way for him to observe others from afar without the need for verbal communication, allowing the camera to capture the rawness of a person's essence for him to better assess and get to know them whilst obscured in the red lights of the darkroom.

Steve had spent the last couple of years skirting around his feelings for Theodora Gray, who had made her own all too prevalent early on. It came as a surprise when she all but vomited her feelings about being in love with him since they first met, back when his mind was focused on nothing but Nancy and ensuring Henderson and his friends didn't die on a daily basis.

Lips pressed into a thin line, squeezing the cigarette between them as a lifeline while dark brows furrowed in confusion. Or perhaps anger, Nicola couldn't tell behind the facade he presented. Plucking the nicotine from his mouth, she tossed it to the side where it laid forgotten. A gentle smile crosses her magenta tinted lips, eyes closing behind the curtain of black lashes and brightly colored eyelids, slowly closing the distance between their bodies.

His blood boiled as he watched as Billy Hargrove's greasy fingers brush a strand of hair behind Dora's ear, catching a glimpse of a flush on her cheeks as she seemingly giggled at something that was said.

"I'll have what he's having," Selah purred out to the bartender, leaning her elbow on the counter as red painted nails tapped her cheek. "Mind if I join you?"

He was an engima; gaunt yet well dressed with an air of mystery dabbled in the musky scent of his cologne. Sleek black hair and a pronounced scar down his cheek, sending Aereia's mind with wild possibilities. Jack was his name, no surname ever mentioned, which put a pin in her urge to scribble her new (possible) married name.

Smooth fingertips traced across the tattoo on the man's bicep, tracing across the firm muscle. Ace, however misspelled with a stroke through the S, must be his name, she mused to herself with a faint chuckle at the story behind the ink on his skin. Whoever this handsome stranger was, Selah found herself smitten by him.

'Why won't you join my crew?" Ace's baritone voice hummed out, his heavy lidded eyes gazing longingly at Selah, observing the purplenette tap her fingernails against the wood grain on the bar her hip perched against.

Ace never felt such a connection and he would regret having to leave come sunrise, but he was selfish and wished to milk the moment as long as possible.

"I expected better from you," His free hand traveled down the curve of her hip, keeping her flush against his body which straddled his waist, framing her like his own personal doll. Something intimate yet terrifying, setting her skin ablaze. "Aldra." She trembled at the baritone tone her name held as it left his lips.