#eh if i come up with something i might just go around in a circle going 'who needs a last name and who can make do' for the andromeda 5

[whatudottu]

It's been a bit since I've rambled about xenobiology headcanons, and this time because I've been thinking about Andreas I thought today's edition would be about talpaedans, seeing as how I made a list that I haven't put into a post yet-

Let's go!

Between all members of talpaedan youth and development, there is an innate basic understanding of construction, as comparable to human's ability to recognise patterns and facial language (give or take a few neurodivergencies). And specific construction comprehension is linked to whatever tool talpaedan youth are integrated in, which develops over time based on what materials are consumed (a diet of concrete may make cement mixers, or a diet that requires a lot of digging may develop jackhammers) as well of course the genes of the parent/s.

And on to that 'parent/s' thing, let's bring up haplodiplody again.

On Earth, haplodiplody is the system where one sex is developed from a fertilised egg (which tends to be the females) and thus are diploid with DNA of the mother and father, while the other sex is from an unfertilised egg (males would technically be the result of asexual reproduction) and thus is only haploid with only the mother providing DNA. Talpaedans are not an Earth species, but functionally that is the basis of their sex-determination, where females would be best translated as architects and males best translated as tradies, which in of itself is rather contextually slang in English.

And even with haplodiplody, talpaedans still have a bimodal sex distribution, though tradies are neither part of the equation. Instead, fertilised eggs though typically expected to produce architects also just as often produce workers, non-reproducing talpaedan youths that are born an raised to be the most common labourers of the colony they were born under and never leave the hive, as opposed to architects who work higher profile jobs and are in line to be promoted to site queens, and tradies who pre-war were lower rung workers who took to training younglings for work as well as in general raising them. Being bimodal it's not a perfect list of traits to be considered as either an architect or a worker, though there is a bias towards architects being able to reproduce as that would be the key factor needed in promotion. Tradies that are infertile or more characteristically architects would be considered workers and are more of a consequence of asexual reproduction and the lack of genetic diversity.

Talpaedan gender has been typically correlated with sex throughout most Poiana Lüncas colonies, with the architects being the talpaedan equivalent for women and tradies as the talpaedan equivalent for men, but workers have a more diverse gender identity even in more conservative colonies, either being a third gender or having men and women and in between identities being formally acknowledged as such in worker populations. There might be a few general issues about identity especially among architects and tradies, but colonies are less focused on the individual and most of their aggression is directed to other colonies rather than it's own population.

It is this tension towards other colonies that had eventually and near inevitably sent Poiana Lüncas into many wars, though the most recent one had been the worst and the last in many years, a war that fundamentally changed how intercolonial relationships worked. A very large colony had been expanding it's borders to accrue even more resources for it's ever growing population, in turn threatening the smaller colonies on it's outer borders, elevating tensions to an all time high. The whole shtick lasted for years until a few colonies realised that alone no one could stop this large megacolony from wiping out each of them one by one, but through an alliance they could stand together and beat the ever loving crap out of the aggressor.

And how their alliance worked was through the sharing of resources and ensuring the protection of youths especially, and so began the first war-era runs of arranged 'marriages' as tradies live up to their name in a more eh... dubious sense. By sending in tradies (who's lower rung work was mining for resources and food) from colonies not on the front line, the colonies along the border had assurances that their home had well fed and well protected populations - as well as a general diverting of power - to beat back the aggressor colony and in fact not only raze it to the ground, but dug it completely out and functionally turned it into a mass grave reeking of death; No Queen's Land it would later be named, for no surviving members of the colony were left alive to name it after themselves.

With a combination of a clearly war-created desert and the whole 'ant death smell' thing that exists in ants aka the big inspiration for my talpaedan headcanons, makes No Queen's Land an omen that trade routes never cross, instead creating what would be a ring road surrounding the outer reaches of the ex-colony that would direct trade routes through the border colonies one by one. Direct trade or travel between the colonies on complete opposite sides of the pock marked, crater desert is both impossible and otherwise detested by Queens and the architects responsible for trade routes, instead being a multicolonial multigenerational process that circles the border colonies until reaching the 'opposite side of the world'.

To this day (or at least to the day that exists universally in the moment that Andreas would consider a 'this day') the trade routes affect the lives of tradies post-war. Instead of being completely locked to the hive like workers and architects, tradies at a certain age are sent to travel in as both tradesmen and concubines to whatever colony they have been raised for, a fact that had been determined early on at the development of their tools and the needs of the recipient colony. The host colony would arrange their young to be raised by tradies that once came from their own host colony, determined by their last name of [birth colony-trade colony] (as opposed to architects and workers whose last names are simply [birth colony]) in order to be raised as bilingual to understand the majority language of their trade colony and to be an example of the future youth they would need to raise speaking their birth colony's language.

Andreas was on one such trade route when Aggregor snatched the talpaedan for materials in functionally a fusion experiment, being part of a group about to be married off to a queen, an architect or as a working tradie, technically 'divorcing' the deal when Andreas was stolen away. Considering that Poiana Lüncas isn't the most peaceful environmentally, the trade routes also serve as a double use, a sharing of resources and a preventative measure for overpopulation. I mean, a colony would be pissed if absolutely none of their trade gets to them - probably spark a conflict that may get hairy - but losing numbers is an expected consequence. Andreas doesn't expect anyone to particularly care that they're missing the one or few talpaedans that disappeared in the night, especially with the generally large number a trade route sends, and Aggregor isn't going to take out a whole line of talpaedans just to get to one; a simple 'cutting off from the group' works fine enough.

And one final thing to note, now more focused on Andreas as an individual rather than talpaedans as a species. I've mentioned death smell and thought to bring it up here since, if you've seen my stuff before or straight up follow me (for my rambling or long enough to see my rambling), I love stealing @kariachi's necromancer Argit and the whole idea of him killing, healing, and reviving Andreas in the titular episode Andreas' Fault. I looked up how ant death smell works and apparently it's a constant thing that's only combated by a constant flow of life smell, so with a brief touch of death even if Andreas doesn't REEK of death, a talpaedan would probably suspect Andreas stepped into No Queen's Land and got cursed by something. But for those of y'all buried deep enough in my rambling would be confused; 'if one can smell actual literal death and associate it as actual literal death why doesn't Andreas at least even slightly suspect the idea of being briefly dead when the castle crashed?'

Well babes, you know what's an easy simple solution for this? Andreas is anosmic :D! Of course Andreas would be the last to know, Andreas' would have no frame of reference for what a 'death smell' is. Could even be how Aggregor got Andreas separated, if everyone else can smell death smell they might notice the fact that No Queen's Land reeks of the stuff. Not a great way to find out that one is anosmic admittedly, but I mean if Ra'ad is finding out that among the many neurodivergencies he does have much of his overstimulated suffering is magic and mutation that he thought every other amperi had to deal with because you find out your husband died and now has a magical mind barrier well...

Okay okay, one more final note. Given that Andreas is a tradie, Andreas's full name would be [birth colony]-Andromeda after the name Andreas actually gets married into because Earth and especially English dominated areas of Earth like last names. And I guess if Andreas gets adopted into any Earth-based packs thanks to being attached to Argit like a puppy you can shove in another last name like [birth colony]-[pack]-Andromeda.

This has been in my notes since August woops-

#talpaedan #andreas #andreas ben 10 #ben 10 #xenobiology #world building #this has been a large general and specific headcanons thing that i have been rotating in my mind for forever #even longer than when it was actually documented in at least dot point form #since i am bad at names i didn't come up with any colony names #though i could probably just look at fault lines and the people who study earthquakes maybe #eh if i come up with something i might just go around in a circle going 'who needs a last name and who can make do' for the andromeda 5 #which includes andreas but also might include galapagus because of that one elder i brought up once inspired by diego the species saviour #also i just came up with architect worker and tradies because i didn't like how females drones and males sounded #also i thought that the double entendre for 'tradies' was far too fitting for what i wanted to ignore #like they'd be the closet translation in english for poiana lüncas languages in a general sense #as in the work type influences the origin for the name of the sex which would then influence the name of any sex correlated genders #and in this case- sex AND work related terms like trade routes- lowkey the first thing that comes to mind to andreas when you say sex work

[beiasluv]

— op81, cs55, cl16, ls2

a/n: spent so long on the graphic 💀

yourinsta

liked by mclaren, landonorris and 49,183 others

yourinsta call me pitbull cuz I’m mr worldwide 🤫 (+🇦🇺🇪🇸🇲🇨🇺🇸)

view all 729 comments

landonorris coppiers

yourinsta you’re my og 🫶

landonorris just og? 😔

username I swear if oscar gives us nothinggg

username MY BABY IS SHY OKAY?

username GOOD DAY TO BE A LOGAN SARGEANT FAN 🦅🦅🦅🦅

username I could only pray the Spanish flag is for Fernando 😩

— oscar piastri

Nervously sipping on his emotional support orange juice. Maybe too much nervous sipping.

“So, what’s your type?”

“My girlfriend?”

“Tell her she’s mine too.”

“WOw, will do.”

Cheeks turning red, munching on the fries like a little chipmunk he is.

“I mean– I have three sisters so…”

“That’s a green flag.”

“Thank you?” a piece of chicken in, a smile comes out. “That’s it?”

“Maybe if he’s…Australian, maybe.” you shrugged.

“Yeah.”

“And if he’s…wait. what sign are you?”

“Don’t know..I think it’s kinda nonsense.”

“That’s a red flag.”

“Sorry?” cheeky.

The orange juice was left unattended for a minute. Good sign. Chuckles were still evident.

“Let’s get serious here…” shifting in your seat.

“Yeah.”

“You drive for a living?”

“Yeah, I go around in circles ‘nd stuff,” juice pause. “I could drive you around Melbourne..if you’d want to–”

“And you’ll take me back by eight? Maybe offering your hand as well?”

“Yeah,” squinting face. “I could do that.”

“Lovely.”

— carlos sainz

Does that thing with his eyes, bending down to take the fries in…while keeping an intense eye contact.

“Smooth operator, you like that song?”

“Everyone favorite song no?”

“Hard choice.” pausing your fries mid air. “Spanish songs that I have no idea what they’re talking about could be up there.”

“Really? Tell me one.”

“The one from fast and furious.”

“A lot of them,” throwing his head back. “Can you sing it for me?”

“Asking for me to sing already. You’re in a hurry Carlos?” a sip of your Diet Coke. “Fast Five?”

“Eh..Danza Kuduro?”

“How could I know?” you shrugged. “What’s the song about anyways?”

“Something like…dancing…er…with tight ass.”

“Make sense.”

Looking confused as ever with that big, brown eyes. Mouth agape and shut every time few seconds, curling into a smile most of the time.

“So you’re still looking for job next year?”

“Huh?”

“Lewis Hamilton? Looking for job?”

“Eh..” leaned back in his seat. “Could be. Are you offering?”

“I’m a pretty busy girl..”

“Really? How busy?”

“So you’re up for it? That’s fast.”

“I’ll have to talk to my manager,” raising his eyebrow. “What is your requirement?”

“A Ferrari driver.”

“Sure.”

— charles leclerc

Trying to not laugh his ass off every five seconds or just completely blanks out. Chicken tasted good though.

“Charles, I have to ask you one thing.”

“Yeah?”

“How do you pronounce your last name?”

“I don’t..I don’t care, really.” Shrugging his shoulders. “Charles. Le. Clare.”

“Hm…maybe just use my last name instead, it’s easier.”

“I– yeah?”

“What?”

His chicken was pretty cleaned up the first few minutes. Plenty of confused chuckles.

“Do you think you are a committed person?”

“I…I…it’s a hard question no?” he put his hand together, in an Italian – sorry, Monegasque way. “I like to say I am.”

“I could tell.”

“Really? How?”

“Your contract with Ferrari.”

— logan sargeant

He was used to burger and fries but maybe he could just tolerate chicken and fries for your pretty company.

“What’s your ideal date?”

“Hm..definitely chicken shop dates.”

“Really? Where’s best chicken you ever had then?”

“This one.”

“That’s not an option.”

Subtle stares here and there, his cheeks might be hurting from all the grinning though.

“What’s your ideal type?” munching his ketchup-ed fries.

“So you don’t do researches.”

“I am now.”

“You know…starting to have a thing for Americans. You have any recommendations?”

“You could start by going fishing in the Keys with me,” stretched his arms.

“I’m not into fishy things.”

“Just boat rides?”

“I could do that.”

Coke break.

“Your thoughts on frat boys?”

“They’re fine,” he shrugged.

“And you’re not like a..secret member? Is it like a One Direction..thing?”

“Maybe better looking?” smirked. “I could see myself being one if I wasn’t racing.”

“Dreams do come true, Sargeant.”

“Ouch,” clutching his chest. “Ah– well– Maybe this other dream could come true as well?”

“You being better looking than One Direction?”

tell me who should be in chicken shop dateee 😩😩

– @namgification @jsjcue @c-losur3

Today’s a great day to take care of yourself!!

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 imagines #charles leclerc imagines #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #logan sargent x reader #logan sargeant

[cranberryjuice-posts]

Hi, I wanted to ask for a Clarisse fanfic where the reader is gifted in the arts? I would also like to ask that the reader be a daughter of Hades :)

What’s a girl to do

Pairings - Clarisse La rue x daughter of hades! Fem! Reader

An - this lowkey sucked but YALL will live

You had always been gifted in the arts. From dance, music, art itself and even theater.

Being that you were a hades kid most kids avoided you, not that because your dad was the king of the underworld but because just being around you gave them an unsettling feeling.

Something every great artist had was a muse, someone they could go to for inspiration, someone that gave their work meaning. But you? You didn’t have a muse.

Sure you’ve had inspiration come from all types of media but never once did you have an actual person you could call your muse.

That had changed though when you met clarisse. It started out small with small doodles of her. Then she started to show up as small details in your song lyrics. And even going as far as using her as your model in your photos

You two were friends.. but you knew you wanted more then that.

——

Clarisse spun her spear around on the sandy beach. She was so in the moment that she hadn’t heard the sound of your camera going off.

She ended in a pose with her spear tucked under her arm. Panting that’s when she realized you were sitting near by.

“You know its creepy to take photos of people without their knowledge right”

“Eh you’ll live” you smiled. Clarisse had always been beautiful even in situations like now where she was panting and sweaty from her workout.

You walked over towards her smiling sat the picture

She was a natural. The way clarisse moved her body it was like she was meant to be infront of the camera.

subconsciously you started leaning into her to show her the photo. “this one here, I like how your curls kinda spun around with you, you know” You smiled, clarisse nodded placing a hand around your waist, she had always done that but it didn’t mean it didn’t get you flustered everytime.

“Mmhm” she stuck her spear in the ground before reaching over placing her free hand onto yours clicking back on the camera to a photo of her standing with her spear pointed down the sun hitting her at a certian angle adding dramatics. “this one is better”

“Well I think both are fine” you smiled looking over at clarisse. Your faces were close. So close if you even just moved a little you might accidentally kiss.

You waited for clarisse to do something, to move away and tell you to piss off but she didn’t. Instead you started to feel her rub circles on your hip.

Almost out of a movie mark clarisses bother appeared. “Clarisse!” He yelled gaining the now irritated girls attention.

“The hell do You want Mark im busy” she looked over at him not wanting to deal his bullshit. “It’s Sam and Jane, they got into another fight and are in the infirmary now Chiron wants to see you about it all”

You watched as clarisses closed her eyes trying to calm down even a little. She looked back at you before squeezing your hip and letting go to head off to beat her siblings.

You stood there frozen and embarrassed. Clarisse didn’t like you. There was no way if anything she liked silena. Clarisse only saw you as a friend…

Right..

——

Around 3am you decided to sneak out of your cabin not able to sleep.

Lazily walking around the camp trying to not get caught you noticed a familiar girl jumping out the ares cabin window. Using shadow travel you quickly moved to stand beside the cabin.

Clarisse sighed as she landed on the ground, silently closing the window “since when did you sneak out”

“Fuck!” She whisper yelled having to pull her hand back from hitting you. “What the hell are you doing out here”

“Selling hardcore drugs— now you tell me why your ever so quietly leaving your cabin” you sarcastically spoke. Clarisse rolled her eyes in defiance. “Your a pain in my ass you know” she scoffed.

You shrugged your shoulders. “You’ve said worse to Me” starting to follow the girl into the forest you took in the scenery.

The full moon brought you a sense of comfort, mainly in the fact that the goddess nyx had always brought protection to people in need through the veil of night.

Clarisse continued until she came to a clearing in the woods, high on the mountian side and far enough away from the camp you wouldn’t get caught but high enough you could see the stretched out lake.

“Wow..” you whispered. “I never new this spot existed”

“That’s supposed to be the point”

“Is this where you take girls to makeout with them then torture them before k—“

“I’m not some insane serial killer dumbass” clarisse laughed pushing you softly before sitting down. You followed her lead sitting a little to close to her.

After a few moments you watched as clarisse silently complained befote grabbing some Kindle Wood arranging it to make a small fire. Using a lighter most likely taken from the big house.

After sitting back watching the fire clarisse looked over at you. “How long have you been doing all this shit”

You raised an eyebrow confused. “You mean photography” you chuckled, Clarisse nodded in response her face unreadable.

You sighed for a moment “uhh I’m not really sure, I just I’ve always had a passion for the arts and been naturally gifted in them, I like photography the best with painting being right underneath though” you tucked some hair behind your ear slightly embarrassed.

“Why me” she continued to asked. “Like out of every camper here why am I the one you take the most photos of me”

“Well I Ju—“

“Wait wait don’t tell me you like me” clarisse laughed at the end of her statement. You went to speak but decided to stay quiet letting clarisse finish her laughing fit it. She soon stopped looking over with a playful face. “Wait seriously.. you use me as your muse because you like me”

You started to get up embarrassed walking away quickly not wanting to listen to the girl yelling after you. About five steps into your leave clarisse grabbed your arm. “Gods damnit can you just wait” she huffed.

“Yeah because I just love being laughed at thanks clarisse” you tried to pull your arm away but it was pointless “you know it’s actually really shitty to laugh at someone when you find out they like yo—“

You were cut off by clarisse grabbing your head and crashing her lips against yours. Not caring how messy it was, clarisse kept a firm hold on your head while grabbing your waist pushing you against her.

The kiss moved from messy to controlled. You let clarisse hold you close, soft breaths leaving both your mouths not wanting to pull away but still needing to breathe.

Pulling away you felt clarisses hot breath on your lips. “Do you ever stop talking” she asked now with her hand on the side of your face comfortingly rubbing circles. You rolled your eyes but kept quiet, your arms around clarisses neck.

Clarisses kissed you once again slowly, she pulled away kissing your cheek. “I like you to dumbass”

“Really..?”

“Uh yeah you really think I let anyone take photos and draw me?”

You playfully pushed the girls shoulder before pulling her back into a grinful kiss

“Great now that we’re together can we please go back to the fire it’s cold as shit out here”

“Whatever La rue”

#lesbian #wlw #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #clarisse my beloved #clarisse x female reader #butch clarisse #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you #clarisse larue #pjo show #percy jackson show #pjo fandom #percy jackson

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 12

Hey all, this story will wrap up today, so next week it will go back to just one chapter a day on Tuesdays and Thursdays and when Glitters wraps up, Sundays will go back to one a day as well.

A short chapter for the first of two, because this chapter got too long and needed to be cut down a tad and the next part fits better as a whole.

Eddie and Steve finally kiss and just giving Steve the loving crafting circle he needs.

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

****

Steve got to see where the cast ate their meals, where some of the cast stayed in large tents (for those that had traveled from out of state but couldn’t afford a hotel), he got to meet the people who sold the food to the tourists, and the people who cleaned up every night.

It was marvelous.

“So was the two events they were trying to schedule at the same time, the joust and your trick riding?” Steve asked after they left the cleaners.

Eddie grinned. “Close, the sword fighting and my trick riding. I told them that I would happily run over those bastards, but I didn’t think the horses would appreciate it.”

“I bet that got them to change their tune,” Steve said with a laugh.

“It sure did, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured.

Suddenly they found themselves utterly alone.

“Steve–” Eddie began, but Steve placed his fingers on his lips.

“Just wait,” he said softly. “There’s something I want to give you first.”

Eddie blinked at him. “You bought me a present?” he asked. Well technically he said, “Ym brut me apresemnt?” since Steve still had his fingers over his mouth.

Steve laughed and dug it out of his pocket. “It’s been on a little journey, one that nearly gave me a heart attack,” he murmured, “but Jeff was able to get it back to me in time.”

He handed the small pouch over to Eddie.

Eddie took it gingerly and rubbed it between his fingers as he looked at the small thing that Steve had made for him. But as small as the item itself was the giving of it, was massive.

“I remembered you telling me that your dice bag broke,” Steve mumbled, “and I really wanted to thank you for all your help this weekend. I don’t think I could of done it without you.”

Eddie looked up at Steve with glossy eyes. “It’s perfect, Stevie.”

“I plan on giving a bunch to Katie for her to sell while I make the bigger pieces,” Steve continued, “and Robin said that I should give the first one to you, because it’s special. And you deserve something really special, Eds. Because you’re special to me and I–”

Whatever else Steve was going to say got swallowed up by Eddie kissing him firmly on the lips.

He had just grabbed Steve by the face and locked their lips together.

Steve was stocked into stillness, but that didn’t last long as he pulled Eddie close to him and deepened the kiss.

Eddie let out a happy sigh as they parted for breath. “Wow, baby. You kiss like it might be your last.”

“Eh...” Steve said with a half shrug and a lopsided smile, “when you’ve faced more then one ends of the world, it very well could be.”

Eddie chuckled, pressing their heads together. “You’ve got me there, big boy.”

“Mhmm,” Steve said softly. “And I’ve got you here, too.” His arms tightened around Eddie’s waist, drawing them flush against each other.

Eddie swatted at him. “Sap.”

Steve kissed him again. “If I’m a sap, then you’re my tree.”

“That was corny even for you, honey,” he murmured, swatting at him at playfully.

Steve just laughed.

****

The end of the Renaissance Fair had come at last. There had been more then a few bumpy moments, but looking out at all the happy faces being lit up by fireworks, Steve was pleased with the results.

And next year was going to be even better, he had plans for helping the kids have quality costumes like Corroded Coffin boys had.

He might still have to do some altering instead of full on sewing all of the costumes, but he was really looking forward to it.

Katie had told him that he had several people offer her crazy money for the pouch he had accidentally dropped, so he promised her a dozen by the end of next week for her next Fair. In different sizes too.

Eddie had been the one to suggest that. Little coin purses, dice bags, and even handbag sized ones. Eddie was even going to help him find the right materials for it, ones that weren’t as expensive as the little dice bag Steve gave him.

Steve was really looking forward to it.

They hadn’t told the kids yet about their change in relationship. Not yet. They wanted to hold onto it for themselves a little longer.

Though, judging from the look that Will and Mike had sent him, Steve was pretty sure most of them had figured it out anyway.

So what started out with longing gazing into each others’ eyes, ended with holding hands under the cover of darkness as fireworks exploded overhead.

Steve had never been happier and he just knew more happiness was coming his way.

****

Steve was proven right when Claudia called him up the next morning.

“Good morning, Mrs. Henderson,” Steve murmured sleepily.

“I’m sorry, dear,” she said, “did I wake you?”

Steve looked blearily at the clock on the microwave. It was after ten in the morning.

“It’s fine,” he muttered, “I don’t usually sleep this late.”

“While that is certainly true,” Claudia agreed, “you also don’t normally spend three full days at a fair. Too much sun, too much fun, and too little sleep makes for a tired Steve. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks, Mrs. Henderson. Was there something you needed?”

“Oh, yes!” she said brightly. “Are you free this afternoon, from around two to four?”

Steve looked over at his calendar and squinted. “Looks like it, unless the nuggets call for rides to wherever.”

Claudia chuckled. “I think they’re going to be just as tired as you and not want to go anywhere today.”

He laughed. “Yeah, probably.”

“So, me and couple of the other moms have a sewing circle every Sunday,” she explained. “And we were all wondering if you wanted to come and join us. We have punch and little treats and spend two hours working on whatever project we have going on while we fill each other in on what’s happening in our lives.”

“You gossip,” Steve accused, teasingly.

She giggled. “Gossip is such tawdry word.”

“Like your every day language wouldn’t make a sailor blush,” Steve said dryly.

“And how would you know that?” she asked, curiosity coloring her tone.

“Ma’am, your son has the worst language I’ve ever seen on a teenager,” Steve said, “and I’m damn sure he didn’t get it from his dad. Even when he was alive.”

Claudia’s giggle turned into a full on laugh. “All right, you’ve got me there, Steve. So you’ll come?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Fantastic!” she cried. “We meet at Joyce’s this week.”

“This week?” Steve asked, already plotting what to bring as a treat and which project he wanted to start.

“Yes,” Claudia explained. “We rotate every week so that one person isn’t stuck hosting every time. And if you come often enough, we’ll have it your place once in a while, as well.”

Steve frowned appreciatively. “Sounds good. I’ll see you later then.”

Claudia squealed in excitement. “I can’t wait. We’re going to teach you how to use a sewing machine!”

That really piqued Steve’s interest. “Oh yeah?”

“It was Karen Wheeler’s idea,” she explained. “Karen doesn’t sew like the rest of us, but she does cross-stitch while we all chat. Apparently Mike was telling her about all the sewing you did for him and his friends and that it was all by hand.”

Steve nodded, forgetting she couldn’t see him. “Yeah, my parents thought sewing was for girls, so I learned by hand.”

“Make sure to bring some examples of your work,” she said. “I want to blow Olive Peterson’s mind. She’s of the same mind as your parents, even though what she does, the knitting, was originally only for men.”

“I have these pouches I’ve decided to make and sell,” Steve said with a grin, “so I can bring those to work on and bring some of the work I did for the kids to show off.”

“That’s brilliant!” Claudia said. “I see you later!”

Steve said goodbye and hung up.

This just might be the thing he needed.

****

Part 13

Don't quote me on the knitting originally being for men thing, it was something I learned when I read a 12 Dancing Princesses retelling years and years ago. The soldier in the story knitted to keep awake at night.

Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @carlyv @gregre369

@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach

@danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @wonderland-girl143-blog

@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

@useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss

@croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv

@dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter @cryptid-system CLOSED

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #steve is a history nerd

[usedpidemo]

Tell your friends (Ive Yujin & Wonyoung)

—————

Thank you @capslocked for the input/advice <3

—————

“What do you think?” asks Yujin, casually, as you’re both walking up the long, winding stairs. A scenario you’re familiar with, but this is completely different from before.

“Of this place?” Your eyes wander around, scope out the surroundings like you’re evaluating real estate. “Eh, it’s fine—I mean, I’ve already been to your place and it’s really nice.”

“First time I’ve heard anyone call this place just fine.” Completely surprised at your reply, her eyes go wide, along with her jaw, as if you’ve said something taboo. “This place is no joke, it makes mine look like an average joe—just like you!”

“Hey.” Offended by her personal taunt, you counter, “At least I’m content with what I have instead of pouring needless amounts of money for this narcissistic shit.” 

She simply laughs off your retort. You’re not even trying. Part of the game is you actually playing along. “Gotta keep the image up, after all.”

“What image? That you’re slutting out every night for a ‘random nobody’ off the street?”

“If I wanted a random nobody off the street, I could have at least gotten someone with a bigger cock,” says Yujin, trying to get under your skin. This kind of banter should render you poisoned with all the toxicity, but you’re almost numb to it at this point. Her words hit hard, because she’s speaking the truth. Anyone else could be in your position right now, and you’re luckier than 99.9% of the people on this planet, because she’s still An Yujin—variety queen, fashion icon, and pop star—after all. “Or maybe someone who’s willing to rip through my clothes when I tell them to—”

“Yeah, I get it. You get new clothes that you’ll use for a week, only to stash them away in the storage.” Might as well put on those imaginary headphones to drown out the noise, but you’ve heard it so many times, your ears simply block out her voice. “You’re rich and famous; I’m a nobody. We get it.”

She shoots you a devilish smirk, complemented by a wink before going ahead. Her flawless body and model strut serve as the perfect hall pass; you're willing to give every excuse and exemption just to be with her in bed when it’s all said and done.

The huge front doors swing open automatically. The living room alone dwarfs your entire house and makes Yujin’s look miniature in comparison. Collective chatter fills the atmosphere as guests convene everywhere. Not a single space remains unoccupied with at least two people engaged in conversation over drinks. 

Like the visitors at your girlfriend’s party, you have no idea who these people are or what their intentions are. Some of them turn their heads, stare at your direction and greet you hello. They’re not actually meant for you, but for the woman right beside you. To your dismay, she remembers how awkward you are at large gatherings and takes advantage of it. Bumping shoulders, she encourages you to wave back at them. Not the name you want to make for yourself.

So you sneak away from her and escape into the crowd. Passing through different rooms, you eventually run into a familiar face in the entertainment room. The person turns around, meets your gaze in dramatic fashion, and her excitement immediately rises to dangerous levels. 

“Hey! Oh! Were you invited too?” asks the girl, enthusiastically, running toward you.

You vividly recognize her cute face—and her Japanese accent. She was the girl who almost uncovered you twice in a single night.

“Oh God—” You grumble, bothered, silently praying your whisper drowns in the sea of loud gossip. “Oh—hi, Rei.”

“You must really be someone special to be invited to Mistress Jang’s party.” Rei suddenly pulls you by the shoulder to whisper something secretive in your ear, closing any opportunity to escape. “You know this is a blue card invitation, right? Only those deep in her social circle can come here, and her private circle is really, really small. Just so you know, there’s an industry rumor going around that the son of a government official offered millions in a bid to woo her, and she turned him down.”

“O-oh, that’s—cool.” 

Respectfully, what you wanted to say was that you had no interest in the so-called Mistress Jang, or the corrupt children of the officials running the nation with puppet strings. You were only there at Yujin’s insistence, and nothing else. “Surely he must be fuming that Jang—”

“Shhhh.” Rei puts a finger between your lips to quiet you down. She briefly looks left and right, scanning everything and everyone around you. “We call her Mistress Jang, Miss Jang, or Miss Vicky Jang. The title is very important here.”

“What?” For a moment, you thought you had stepped inside the palace of some ancient dynasty, the way titles are held in high regard. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t know, huh? Are you living under a rock? Miss Jang is one of the biggest names in the country! She’s Korea’s it girl and national princess. Gosh, every brand she wears—and touches—becomes instant sell outs. She’s like a god even among celebrities!” Rei turns around, scouts the place a second time, as if she isn’t already screaming. Surely, this has to be hyperbole because you’ve never heard anyone with a description this grand, only in children’s role play. “She’s practically royalty, even if she doesn’t have a title.”

“Oookay.” Your lack of interest shows through your dry tone. “Yeah, well Yujin invited me here so—”

“Well, that makes perfect sense. I was thinking you were some kind of celebrity or photographer, but now I also know you’re Yujin’s boyfriend. So, the guy hidden in some of her Instagram photos was you.”

“Right.” Shake your head, slowly drawing away from her and this conversation before you become the center of discussion and treated like an actual celebrity. “So, yeah, it was nice seeing you again—”

“Can I ask you one question?” Her narrow eyes and pouty lips are practically pleading to you. Might as well amuse her just this once. Maybe she’ll finally leave you alone. “Please?”

“Fine, what is it?”

“What kind of person is she in bed?” The question elicits an animated reaction on your face—the kind that gets passed around on the internet as a meme. “I bet she gives really good head—”

“There you are!” Yujin suddenly shouts, interrupting right before it becomes extremely awkward. “Hey Rei! What have you been talking about?”

“Yujin!” The Japanese girl abruptly releases you, meeting her in embrace and exchanging friendly kisses. “Not much, just catching up with your guy about some—” she suddenly pauses, making up an excuse on the fly. “—stuff. Anyway, did you know he doesn’t know who Miss Jang is?”

“I was about to take him to her, actually.” 

“Oh no—” You impulsively blurt, losing control over your volume at that moment. 

Forget that they’re right in front of you. Forget that you value your own life over some pussy you can get any other time you want.

Surely Miss Jang would be the kind of person who immediately comes for the life of the offending party when the smallest rumor or slander reaches her ears—how much more at an occasion with some of her most esteemed guests, making you an example of what not to do to cross her.

Fortunately, the two friends then turn their eyes toward you, seemingly unaware of your dismayed reaction. Yujin takes you by the hand, but her soft touch doesn’t relax you in the slightest. “I’ll take him to her now. See ya!”

“Of course, have a great night, you two.”

There’s no light at the end of this tunnel; it’s more of a series of unfortunate events connected from one to another. You’d rather take the option of sharing the freakiest, lewdest secrets of your sex life with Rei over meeting this Mistress Jang face-to-face. You had no say in the matter, not when you’re Yujin’s partner and she’s just as highly esteemed of a name, if not greater, as everyone else in the room.

After a flight of stairs, she scans the second floor, where more people are drinking and chatting it up, before heading in. With you in-tow, you head toward the center hallway together. Seemingly uncaring of your hand getting crushed by her grip, she weaves around dashing from one side to the other until she suddenly stops. Her eyes light up when she sees several suited men assembled in a circle surrounding something—or someone. 

“She’s over there. Give her a minute,” she says, observing them without giving a moment to consider your squished hand—or you for that matter.

“Understood, Miss Jang,” says the oldest man at the center, nodding. The suited men disperse in different directions like a trained, coordinated army unit. A young girl emerges from the assembly with a cold, steely expression in her eyes and her features. 

You expected Miss Jang to be of intimidating, imposing stature, like she could snap you in half like a twig, when really, you’re more likely to toss her around instead. At first glance, everything about her appearance makes her akin to a doll. Pearly white skin, soft, silky lips, and a lightweight figure—everything about her seems curated and designed for maximum appeal to the unrealistic standards of the public. It wouldn’t surprise you if she was actually a life sized model in disguise, with metals and electrical wirings operating the body underneath several layers of unnatural beauty.

Your assumption seemingly comes to pass when she turns her head in a rather mechanical motion, then the blank look on her face shifts to a fixed little beam, hiding any sort of emotion behind them. “Yujin.” Her voice comes out near silent but honeyed, eyes curling into a smile as she recognizes your girl.

“Wony!” She lets go of your hand to hug and give her a kiss on the cheek, treating her like every other acquaintance or friend of hers.

“So, a boyfriend huh? Congratulations,” the other woman replies, reciprocating her friend’s gesture with a kiss on the other cheek. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks. He’s kind of a bum, but he’s all right.” Even around friends, Yujin couldn’t help but make the gap between you and her obvious. You’re properly dressed for the occasion (disregarding the fact she bought and tailored it for you), but otherwise, you’re a fish out of water. 

“Come here.” Mistress Jang shoots you a cold stare. Frightened, you immediately follow. Releasing herself from Yujin’s hug, she extends her hand out for you to shake. “You must be Yujin’s boyfriend. Welcome.”

“Um,” You try to think of something—anything—respectful to reply to her with, but ultimately come up with nothing. Sure, she’s not the dangerous boss or demanding overlord you envisioned, but she’s still the most important person in the entire mansion, with emergency protocols practically marked all over her. “Thanks.”

“Please, make yourself at home.” Her eyes lock onto yours, curls into a friendly smile, inviting you to act comfortably in her presence. “I know it’s your first time here, so enjoy.”

“Thanks,” you reply twice in quick succession because it’s the only word you can think of. Other words aren't necessary when it’s the safest option available. 

Patting you on the shoulder, then giving it a playful squeeze, she reassures you again, “I know you’re nervous because of the whole Mistress Jang thing, but please, I don’t bite. I would never.” 

A little teasing smirk and wink from her makes Yujin giggle. The two women rub foreheads, share a brief stare into each other’s eyes, reveling in their strong bond. “Please just call me Wonyoung.”

“Um, okay. Thanks for the welcome, Wony,” you say, looking over your shoulder, trying to escape those magnetic eyes of hers, but they ultimately draw you back in. No one else in the room other than you three. “You two know each other, Yujin?”

“Of course!” The energy Yujin answers you with is infectious. Your girlfriend plants a kiss on her cheek, hooking her arms around her shoulders. If you weren’t around as a third wheel, they’d make for a perfect pair. If she had her way, she would talk about her all day long. “We’ve been friends for a long, long time. Then she got bigger and richer than me and—”

“No need to compare,” interrupts Wonyoung, facing her with a wider grin. “Let’s not make our guests here jealous.”

A hearty laugh from the two follows, and you can’t do anything but smile. You don’t really find their jokes funny, but at the very least, their tight friendship warms your heart. The way their eyes glimmer when they meet, how rosy their cheeks burn, and how close their lips are from making contact—they love each other dearly and intimately it’s almost invasive that you’re awkwardly watching them, as if you didn’t exist in that moment.

You have places to be and other things to do. Inelegant as it sounds, you’re forced to interject, respectfully. “I think I should be on my way now.”

Wonyoung turns her gaze back at you. “Oh, right. Almost forgot you’re there,” she replies, almost bursting into a giggle at the end of her sentence. “The main event will begin soon. Go and have fun in the meantime.”

“Yeah. Go and have fun,” Yujin repeats, almost taunting. It’s almost second nature for her to tease you. The twosome turn around and walk away, hands still clingy like they can’t live without the other, and their collective laughter echoes all over the room as they leave you alone.

—————

You promised yourself not to stir up a commotion during the party, knowing that anything you do has a high probability to snowball out of control very fast. Only one drink will suffice. It’s not like you’re deeply hurting at all, unlike in the past. 

You’re sifting through framed photos throughout the house, mostly of Wonyoung’s silver spoon childhood, but one picture sticks out from the rest—one with her and Yujin that was certainly taken recently. It becomes even more apparent that she’s most likely her only friend, considering she’s the only one present in the photos who isn’t connected by family or bloodline.

“Yo!” A shout breaks your introspection. Turn your head and Rei’s fastly approaching you. This time, you don’t even try to hide your annoyed expressions. “Enjoying the place? Have you met Mistress Jang yet? What was she like?”

Remaining silent, you feign ignorance, looking the other way, back to the photos. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t work.

She’s standing right beside you, smiling mischievously. It's almost trollish, almost pervasive, and downright annoying. You wonder how anyone puts up with her, and how she even gets invited to these gatherings. “Did you see her and Yujin holding hands? They look so cute together! I bet they would make an amazing couple, you know?”

You raise your eyebrows, partially in agreement, but mostly to entertain her, if it means she eventually leaves you alone. 

“You know, you’re such a weird guy for being Yujin’s supposed ‘boyfriend’,” she continues, pushing her face close to yours, lips pouting and shooting you mischievous, playful looks. “I mean, I don’t get why she’d want someone like you, unless you’ve got something big down there—”

At this point, you’d rather cut your ears off than listen to another minute—no, five seconds—of her grating prattling. 

When you walk away from her, she takes a hold of your hand, causing you to look over your shoulder, furious. Glaring at her, you snap. “Back off.”

“I’m not backing off until you answer me!” Rei’s shouting, trying to make a scene out of this heated exchange. “Serious, I’ve been nice to you the whole time, yet you don’t even look at me with equal respect!”

“What does that have to do with respect? You’re being annoying as fuck!” You don’t mince your words. “I mean, why does it matter to you that I’m fucking Yujin every night?”

She staggers back, eyes wide in shock, jaw slack, and the hand that seized you covers her mouth. It’s the answer she wants, yet it sounds unbelievable. It also draws the attention of everyone nearby, some approaching to see what kind of commotion is happening. There might as well be a huge spotlight shone on you both. You’re the main characters now.

One glance and it rips you from the immersion of the moment. Dozens of eyes focused on you and your co-star, eagerly anticipating what happens after the cliffhanger. The break is long and awkward; nothing exciting happens while you both freeze in place, like the script hasn’t been completed yet. In your mind, you’re hoping someone slaps some sense into you—or wakes you up from this elaborate dream. 

“We’re just talking here, not much is happening!” Somehow, you’re able to break character to break the tension. It doesn’t seem to work initially. The onlookers remain observant of the situation, unconvinced, until one person leaves, followed by another, and more disperse, until you’re completely irrelevant in their eyes once more. Even more amazing is how not a single butler stepped in to intervene during the sudden uproar.

Deafening silence follows as you’re both left alone to contend within yourselves without outside interference. One look at Rei and you find her still motionless, like every part of her malfunctioned. Perhaps it’s the bluntness in how you’ve admitted a lewd secret to her or the way you snapped against her that caught her by surprise. You’re not entirely responsible though. She should have known what she was getting into by poking the bear.

Still, you’re a nice guy, and it’s still a heat of the moment action you’ll definitely regret in the morning. “Um, look, I’m sorry, but yeah—”

“Gosh.” Rei suddenly blurts, eyes still wide, staring at you without a single blink that it’s a little unsettling. You expected her to finally calm down after such a quiet, low answer, but instead, she follows with, “I wonder how well she takes your cock—I mean—how well does she give head?”

“Is this how you talk to friends and acquaintances, Rei?” you reply, tilting an eyebrow, more amused than annoyed. 

“Maybe—” she rolls her eyes, avoiding your gaze, and you can spot the faintest sign of a devious smirk on her lips. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind if you showed me with your girlfriend’s consent—”

“To all house guests. To all house guests.” An artificial voice echoes over the speakers, interrupting the conversation and grabbing everyone’s attention. “Please gather outside. The special show will be starting soon.”

After the brief distraction, she faces you again with a friendly, mutual smile, saying, “We can talk about this another time.”

Leaving you on another cliffhanger, she spins around and follows everyone outside.

—————

The interior of the mansion is nothing compared to the courtyard. An enclosure so large in scale; it can host a concert or festival. While you and the guests pick seats, butlers form the stage for the performance. Surprisingly, Rei opts not to lurk close by, instead choosing a seat far behind. You, on the other hand, settle for one in the second-most front row area. She doesn’t spot you spying on her a fair distance away, and probably for the best, too, after what had just transpired.

Ignore her. You’ll want to avoid her for the rest of the night. Perhaps if you’re luckier, Yujin decides she’s had enough and wants to leave, but it’s very, very unlikely. It would take the ground beneath you splitting to separate her from her best friend.

Smoke rapidly fills the platform as the stage goes dark. The entrance is grandiose; the audience around you erupts in thunderous applause as two silhouettes flash themselves behind a door-shaped window. You can recognize both figures with ease. With all the times your fingers traced her skin and curves, you could recreate Yujin’s body from memory alone. 

The cheering grows as the windows swing open, their faces now in clear view. Yujin and Wonyoung make this sexy pose side by side. It’s almost unbelievable how radically different their attitudes are on stage, and you were just speaking to them a while ago. A handful of phones are stretched out to take photos of the duo, while you’re mentally taking pictures, taking in their overwhelming beauty that cameras don’t do them enough justice. Your girlfriend was always the first thing you had your eyes on, but admittedly, Wonyoung’s making you feel some kind of way, too. 

They follow up with a parallel strut that outshines any model. Yujin shoots your side of the audience a flirtatious smirk, and your reaction is no different than anyone else, falling head over heels for her, as if you weren’t her lucky one. Wonyoung’s smile is more innocent, dainty—the kind that warms even the coldest of hearts. Had your fingers not bore deep into your thighs, self-restrained, you might have quietly snuck them between your groin, irrespective of where you are and who you’re with. 

You don’t realize they’re singing on stage with the stationed mic stands. You’re mostly immersed in their little sensual movements and the way they motion to the crowd with their hands. You don’t know the lyrics to every song, but you’re bopping lightly, imagining how their tight bodies would react when they ride you in private. There’s a little hum quietly dripping from your lips, not because you’re following along with the tune, but because you’re moaning. 

Yujin and Wonyoung perform for half an hour, but you don't waste a single second of it not admiring them. There are times when one of the girls waves or shoots a pair of eyes at your direction, but you remain reactionless, taking in the sight of their perfection before you like they’re a present for your patience.

One more wave to the audience before they leave, to the loudest wave of resounding cheers. They walk back to where they stood in the entrance, flaunting their cheeks before the doors close and they disappear in a puff of smoke. In a different setting, you'd have ran onto the stage and taken them both, right then and there, in front of the crowd, without a care in the world. 

—————

You don’t hear a word from either of them for the next two hours. Biding the time, you wait on the outskirts of the courtyard, beyond anyone’s sight, taking solace under the fresh mountain air, occasionally looking through your phone with no texts or calls, looking for a sign to leave. One look over your shoulder and it’s very clear that no one’s going home anytime soon. Taking photos of the two was the smarter play, in hindsight.

“Miss Jang would like to have a word with you.” A steely voice catches your attention. Tilt your head to find one of the many nameless butlers standing upright before you. “Come with me.”

“Oh thank God.” You’re not even hiding your excitement, as evident by that lively pep in your step. You feel your patience is finally being rewarded.

You follow the servant back to the mansion proper, avoiding eye contact with anyone, even when you catch a glimpse of Rei around the corner interacting with another guest. Back up the stairs to the second floor. Not another soul around and not a single sound can be heard. Ultimately, he leads back to the room where you first met Wonyoung before turning around and leaving you there alone.

“Wait, what does she want—” The door slams shut with a loud thud before you can even finish the question. Run back to chase him, but the door remains firmly shut and you’re unable to open it. Knowing how much surveillance there is everywhere, it wouldn’t surprise you if she knew of your little exchange with Rei, whether it be cameras, microphones, or guests disguised as moles. 

“No, no, no—” you grumble, each one more fearful than the last. Try as you can to turn that knob, it refuses to budge. Texting Yujin’s your only other option, but you can’t get a good signal inside the spacious chamber, despite previously seeing 5G on your phone. The lights suddenly shutting off would be the last thing you want to happen, and against your wishes, it’s what does end up happening—leaving you entirely in the dark. 

It’s the stuff of nightmares: completely shut inside a rich manor, with lights suddenly going off at random, and with no forms of communication. The only thing missing are the windows swinging open to let strong winds blow, but you have to stop thinking more of these grim thoughts before they become reality. 

Desperation sets in so quickly; you’re banging aimlessly at the door, at the window, but not even your hardest efforts can move a single inch. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Your fate is basically sealed.

A little gleam clears darkness from the other side of the room. A call to judgment. A slim figure walks in, judge, jury, and possibly executioner all at once. Then the lights come back on, blinding you. 

“Hi.” She calls to you gently, ignoring that you’re walking in aimless circles. “You okay?”

A scream escapes your breath, leaving you in your most embarrassing state. “Wonyoung!” You don’t give her any space to ask for context. “Look, if this is about what happened earlier, then I’m sorry—”

“Sorry?” She raises an eyebrow and her lips curl into a frown, concerned for different reasons. “Incident? Are you okay?”

“Didn’t you know? Me and Rei got into an—oh.” Realizing there’s no reason to panic, you relearn the ability to pick up cues, and act like everything’s normal. Wonyoung’s shooting you a wary look, and it’s not far off from how everyone else at this party saw you—at least at one point. “Yeah, no. I was kinda scared because the lights suddenly went off and—”

“The lights? Well, Yujin told me you were a scaredy cat,” says Wonyoung with a small smile. You roll your eyes to the side, far more annoyed than anything else that happened tonight. Take back what you’ve said earlier. Yujin’s the kind of person who’d actually pull those tricks on you, and of course she’d allow her friend to get involved in her own warped games to avoid suspicion. That’s how cunning she can be. She sees you as a sandbox to play with.

“I’m sorry. I called you so I can apologize and because I want to speak to you.” Wonyoung continues quietly, bowing reverently as if she committed an unforgivable crime—something she most likely learned being under intense scrutiny all the time. Forgiveness was going to be given, regardless. This seems completely unnecessary, but you appreciate the sincerity and effort.

“Wony, or Miss Jang, whatever you want to be called—it’s fine, there’s no need to cry about it.” She lifts her head, sobbing a little, and her lips contort into a gentle smile. You can see and understand why she’s so beloved; beyond the wealth, she’s so innocent, pure looking and sounding, all the elements of a likable character in a cute package.

“Thank you.” She nods her head energetically, shaking your hands in appreciation. Dramatic behavior for something relatively minor, but you’re a guest without any authority in her house. Besides, how can you say no to that endearing face? “I’m really sorry. I just wanted to be close with my friend—”

“Yujin? Don’t worry about it. She likes to tease me a lot,” you interrupt, rolling your eyes to the side again, tone mildly disgruntled. Another one of her playful tactics, out in the light. “And I can see you two are really close.”

“Yeah.” Wonyoung brushes a finger against her pink cheek, pouting her lips. “We’ve been friends for so long, I don’t remember anything before we met.” 

She suddenly stops, looks over your shoulder, before adding, “We should take our little talk to another room.”

—————

“Thirsty?” asks Wonyoung, walking around the room, scouring for the tea infuser.

“Kind of,” you reply, unsure if you really want a drink—or to drink her. Either way, you’re dying for a taste of something sweet. 

While she’s preoccupied with serving you tea, you scan her from head to toe, still dressed in her showy outfit from earlier. A red corset covers her white dress shirt and tie, complemented by her hair wrapped in a cute bun. None of it steals your attention more than her short shorts, showing a glimpse of her plump ass cheeks that ripple when she casually walks back and forth. Her attitude is nothing compared to what she displayed on stage, yet she renders you speechless. In your head, she’s still the daring woman out there performing.

She walks over to you, casually reclined on the comfy sofa, with a fresh pot of tea in hand. Pouring a drink on your cup, she shoots you a heartstopping smile, like she’s facing the cameras; it’s second nature for her to charm. A memory you’ll keep forever. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” Lean over to grab the cup and take a sip. Very hot that it scalds your tongue, causing you to flinch, but it’s tasty. “Mmmmm—hot, hot, hot.”

She giggles in the middle sipping her own self-made drink, but it doesn’t bother her. Admittedly, you’re no religious tea drinker to tolerate it, but on the contrary, she handles it with such well-trained poise. It’s in the little details: how straight her sitting posture is and how she holds the cup in her delicate hand, despite the long nails, along with the saucer—very princess coded.

“Not used to tea?” she asks, before taking another swig at it. “It’s healthy for you, you know that?”

“Don’t really have time for it,” you reply back, mirroring her motion, but the second nip is just as sizzling. As a result, you end up looking even more stupid. She has this neutral, deadpan look on her features, but the little shift in her lips as you burn your tongue on her tea reveals cracks in her well-manufactured character. A very embarrassing display, even behind closed doors. “Shit—I mean, crap, that’s hot—”

“Hey, you can swear here. This isn’t a church.” Her cup is half-empty or half-full, depending on how she sees it, before she puts it down on the table. “So where were we again? Right. Yujin.”

Her name sets off red flags in your head, activating your fight or flight response. Even when you’re in the most secure place in the world, where nothing can hear or see you, she’s lurking around the corners of your mind rent-free. Knowing she’s close with Wonyoung means she’s more than likely in the know about every part of you, down to your most personal parts. The lights prank was the biggest proof of this.

“Tell me. What is she like as a girlfriend to you?” No mincing words, no gentle mood setting opener, she goes straight to the point, yet you’re still on edge. The wary side of you believes she’s probably extracting info that you’re keeping for yourself. It’s the perfect lure; behind all the flashy lights, she has a kind and friendly aura wrapped in a sweet package.

It takes a few minutes to process and think your answer through. Her eyes demand honesty, but to you, it’s probably just a front. She’s a celebrity, after all. She wears a mask everywhere she goes. 

“That’s a very personal question to ask,” you reply, emphasis on very. There are lines that can’t be crossed, and this is one of them. You’re not falling for the bait so easily. 

Wonyoung tilts her head, cocking an eyebrow, unbothered. “I know. Yujin tells me you’re a great lover, but I wanna hear it from your side. How do you feel about her?”

“She’s a great lover too,” you reply, testing the waters’ depth. Very treacherous. Hope it doesn’t pull you down and drag you to the bottom. “She likes to tease, she’s very playful, and she likes to make me look bad in front of her friends, but otherwise, she’s great in just about everything.”

She lifts her eyebrow and nods, taking mental notes of every spoken word. After a pause, it’s on to the next question. “In what way does she make you look bad in front of your friends?”

There’s still time to swim back to safety, but the waves are growing more turbulent by the minute. 

“Er—” you struggle to formulate anything that doesn’t raise a suspicious eyebrow. Either it breaks continuity, or makes no sense. Maybe you’ll float, somehow, but that sinking feeling remains stronger. “She likes to stick it in my face that she can own me if she wants to.”

“And is that not true? You know you’re dating a celebrity right?” Wonyoung places a finger on her chin, staring deeply into your soul. She’s the taller person in the room, but not the bigger person. “We’re kind of narcissistic like that to anyone. You should have known that.”

“If I knew all celebrities were like that, I’d have never come back to her,” you say, using every bit of your willpower not to yell at her. 

“Yet here you are. And you’d never be here without her presence.” Wonyoung crosses her legs, mildly entertained as you gradually pull those metaphorical hairs off in front of her. “You told me she was great at everything, right? I guess ruining the bedroom must be part of that, too.”

The sound that comes out of you is almost inhuman. Wonyoung’s no longer acting sincerely, breaking character to laugh at your misery. It was bound to happen with how shallow your brain thinks. Then again, you weren’t in the clearest state of mind when you reconnected with Yujin.

“I get it. She’s very hot. Everyone wants a piece of her. Consider yourself very lucky she’s just that—and not a naggy bitch, unlike some of the people in this party,” she adds, smarmy in delivery that it doesn’t feel like proper consolation.

“Yeah, but what else am I supposed to do? I don’t like being her punching bag.” 

“To be honest, I don’t know what you two are like, I really don’t.” Wonyoung suddenly stops, hops off from her couch to sit beside you. Disarming of a tone it is, the answer is anything but reassuring.  “But think of it this way. Gotta take the bad with the good, right?”

“I guess.” You take a deep breath, uncertain about what to feel, or do. 

“She hasn’t done anything to you tonight, right?” She quietly wraps an arm over your shoulders, inching her pristine face close to yours. Another line crossed. Forget about that, she’s dancing back and forth between those non-existent lines.

“Nope. Haven’t seen her after the performance, either.” 

Your eyes meet, and hers twinkle brightly, worthy of a star of her name. It’s the thing you wanted the least to happen.  You’re drowning in her gaze.

“Can you do something for me?” she asks, whispering softly. Her breath fills your nostrils with inviting warmth.

“Sure,” you say, without hesitation, throwing all caution to the wind.

“I wanna know what she feels,” she says, each word dripping with honey and rapid growing lust. “I wanna know how she feels with you in bed.”

“Are you sure?” you question, but it’s pointless. Your hands are already tracing the outline of her back, marking new territory to explore, until they cup soft, bare, round flesh. 

“I’m ready,” she replies back, eyes gleaming with desire. She shifts her entire weight onto you, pushing you to the bottom of the couch, asserting dominance over you. “She told me how amazing you are in bed, and I can’t help but be curious. I really wanna know what it’s like.”

Before you can even question the security of the place, she’s right ahead of you. Kissing the ridge of your nose, she whispers, “Don’t worry if we’re being too loud. Only the both of us will know.”

Kiss her on the lips in return. A lure until you flip positions. Suddenly, you’re hovering above her. Your hands drag along upward until they grasp the zipper of her red corset. You meet resistance when she quivers beneath you, shaking her head vehemently.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, pulling yourself back into a crouch.

“I want to keep my clothes on,” she whispers, timid and nervous, her demure character gone in an instant. “Um—it’s not that I suddenly changed my mind, it’s just that I haven’t done this before.”

You sit up on the couch, perfectly understanding, quickly formulating a way for you to make her first time feel comfortable. “Tried any toys before?”

Wonyoung follows you, softly grasping your hand. “Played with a few dildos, but that’s about it. I find it quite uncomfortable at times.”

“Hmm.” An idea suddenly hits you like lightning. It’s ridiculous, but you might as well swing for the fences. “Watched porn?”

“What?” Wonyoung’s jaw slacks, caught off-guard by such a rather obscene question, even by lewd standards. She lets a moment to let the question sink in, more on the side of disbelief than looking for an answer. “Yes, but—why?”

“Well, I was wondering if you want to learn how to suck a cock.”

“Mmm, that sounds interesting, but I’ve seen enough ‘movies' to have an idea.” Wonyoung hops off the couch, promptly drops to her knees. Frisky fingers latch on to the hem of your pants, already ahead of you. “Would you like me to suck your cock?”

There was no need to elaborate any further. 

You give her an approving nod. Immediately, her fingers work on your zipper, sliding them down. The rest of your pants and underwear follow. Her eyes light up at the sight of your cock, springing to life after being freed.

Looking up at you again, she asks, “Can I?”

Nod again, completely hypnotized by the sight of your shaft close to the perfect, young starlet’s face. It’s almost scandalous how you have what’s basically a goddess in everyone’s sight brought down to earth in such a filthy manner. 

“I’m not really good at this, but I really wanna try.” Wonyoung’s being apologetic again before anything happens, and it’s repetitive, but you’ll let it slide over and over. She sticks out her tongue, nervously inching it close to your cock, until it plants atop your tip, breaking your resolve almost immediately.

“Mmmmm.” She gets her first taste of real cock. It's bitter, salty, and everything she expects, everything she craves. That first slurp cools her dry throat, like finding an oasis in the middle of a desert.

“Christ.” You lose control of your senses, eyes growing weary at the sight of her dainty fingers, the way they wrap around the base of your dick, pumping you to full hardness. You can't believe it. There's this surge of ecstasy, and it renders you helpless under her control. "This was your first time? Fuck--"

Sloppy slurps and smooches from her lips reduce you into a groaning mess. She spreads globs of precum all around your shaft, unintentionally spilling little specks on her chin and cheeks. Her eyes continue to watch intently while you fall weak at the knees, clinging nails to the sofa’s linen. Ignore the collateral damage you’re making. It will barely dig into her deep pockets. 

The more Wonyoung continues to blow you off, the more seed splatters onto her, making her sparkly features even more glinting. It’s difficult to comprehend just how incredible she is at sucking cock—or maybe it’s just you struggling to think beyond pleasure and nothing else. She claims it’s her first time, yet the way her fingers stroke you with confident and elaborate precision means anything but. The little bits of white that taint her flawless face do nothing but make a masterpiece shine even brighter.

Her tongue continues to slide and make itself known all over your length. It’s almost impossible not to give in to your urges and force yourself down her throat. She’s doing well so far; you can barely hear her gurgle or complain while she takes more of you inside her, little by little. Caress that dark hair, still bundled together in a cute package. She reciprocates your compliment by pushing a little bit further, even when her maw tries to resist, only to cross a line she hasn’t reached.

“Ghhhk, mmmph, ghhhk!” Wonyoung coughs into your shaft, overwhelmed by the fullness of your length, tickling her sensitive part deep in the gullet. You pull her by the bun, release her throaty grip on your shaft with a sloppy pop, letting saliva spill onto the floor and her dress.

“You okay?” you ask, concealing the bliss you feel with a frown. Compared to her, you’re not a good actor.

To your surprise, she slaps you away from her harshly, then shoots you a disappointed pout. More adorable than intimidating. “I was still adjusting, asshole. If your dick wasn’t so fucking big—”

“Gotta take the bad with the good, right?” you deflect what she said to you earlier, chuckling at her cute scowl. Unknowingly, Yujin’s mannerisms are rubbing off on you, but you refuse to give credit where it’s due.

Wonyoung rises from the floor, opting to straddle herself on your lap instead. Your shaft lines against soft, wet flesh. Her hands grab the bottom of her shorts, pulling them up for easier access to her folds. It’s impossible to look anywhere but those magnetic caramel eyes, staring deep into your soul, telling you what she wants, without the need of any needless words.

“I’m ready now.” She rests her hands against your shoulders, looking at you expectantly. That was only a warm-up. It’s time for the real test. “Fuck me.”

You’re briefly taken aback just by how blunt her demand is, but those two words spoken in such a sensuous tone linger. Denying her at this stage would be downright criminal. Her slim thighs wrap around the area where your cock stands, the softness of her skin more than capable of making you cum before you can do anything. 

She leans forward to capture you in a passionate kiss, hotter and more passionate than the first. The spell that pushes away whatever logical and moral barriers remain. There’s an angel placed before your lap; time to make her sing. 

Lift her up until she gently descends and makes a graceful landing against your shaft. Upon impact, the kiss is disrupted, rocking her entire body with a new, electric sensation. Moaning music  into your mouth, she makes it clear how heavenly you feel. 

“Mmm—oh God, you’re already stretching me out,” she purrs against you, shutting her eyes and letting all the pleasure wash over her. 

“Better than any dildo?” 

“Better than any dildo.” She nods, lifting her head to expose her neck, clean and pure—ready for ruin, just like every other part of her. 

“Just moan for me, okay?” you say, whispering against her nape. “I’m gonna fuck you like how I fuck Yujin.”

Her body locks as you push deep into her tight, overwhelming cunt. To say she was suffocating would be an understatement. Her sopping pussy proves to be a strong vacuum when you draw back for the first time, pulling every bit of you deep into her core. She’s grasping at straws to not fall apart so quickly. Tugging your hair, neck, and into your expensive dress shirt—none of that bothers you in the slightest, thrusting in a second time, adjusting quicker to her heat than you expected.

You release a breath you’ve unknowingly been holding, looking up at her pleasure ridden face. Her expressions melt in every direction, chest heaving deeply from all the built-up pleasure. “You’re really tight, Wony.”

Resting her forehead against your temple, her palm grips the back of your skull. “And you’re so big.” Praise you’ll never grow tired of hearing from anyone. “C’mon. Do it already.”

In an ideal world, all her clothes would have been gone while you pound into her wet, delicious pussy. This is just as hot, too—maybe even hotter. The usually imperfect Wonyoung looking like your typical girl at the local bar arouses you. So you weaponize those nasty thoughts and do your God-given purpose—to fuck pleasure into their needy, wanton bodies.

Pushing your strained hips up, you pound her, make her sing to high heaven. Hungry fingers hike up the rest of the leftover fabric in her shorts being sucked in by her gap, partially stained from pent up excitement. It’s a familiar feeling, reminiscent of when you were young, innocent and didn’t know any better. Now it’s playing out again, scene by scene, with a few key differences. The girl is different, and you’re nowhere close to being drunk, but here you are—stuck in that old place.

Wonyoung is nowhere close to assertive, unlike her. Her confidence and emphaticness immediately crumble after the first thrust, and freefall even further on the second. She’s not ripping through your clothes, nor is she eager to lead you to bed right away, how she has you glued to the couch with those slender legs. None of that matters when her moans are pornographic, unbefitting of her otherwise pure, princess-like charm that she’s famously known for. On the contrary, her torrid, frantic kisses perfectly embody that trademark allure.

You’re testing those waters again to see how far you’ll go before you inevitably drown. One hand rests at the zipper of her corset, imprinted with your fingerprints, eagerly anticipating her go-ahead for undressing. The other confides on her plump ass molding into your grip, into something truly yours. Meanwhile, she continues to alternate between a mewl and a moan, crashing her body against your shaft to stretch her out even further. Soften her up more with kisses and nibbles on her chin and neck, leave crimson marks as red as her dress. As glowing as she already is, she will shine brighter than the lights above.

“Yujin must be so lucky to have you,” whines Wonyoung, huskily, tilting your face up to meet her fluttery eyes glazed with pleasure, expressions twisting with every overwhelming sensation. She kisses you again. The taste of strawberry flavored lipstick will never leave you. “This dick is so good—”

“I’m still holding back, babe.” Kiss her reddened neck and collarbone. The way she moans in response reminds you of her, a pleasure they both share. “I want you to feel good since it’s your first time.”

Yujin would demand you to up the pace, and lead you to a rushed ruin, but not Wonyoung. “It really feels so good. Keep going.”

Even as you engage in small conversation, your slow, loving tempo rocks her light frame vigorously, releasing sweet melodies you’d never hear from that mouth otherwise. Her tight, sopping cunt flexes against your cock, allowing you smoother and sloppier glides in and out of her core. You’re nowhere close to hitting the perfect angle, but her silvery mewls offer consolation. She continues to envelop you in her tight embrace, hands reaching all over your back, wanting more of you merged with her as possible.

The hand itching to undress her roams down her back to rejoin the other in squeezing her soft, cheeky flesh. To your amusement, she yelps in your ear and she violently quivers, eliciting a silent giggle out of you. A test of the room’s soundproofing, and it works as intended. Her entire body is in your grasp, moldable and malleable in any shape and form to your heart’s utmost desires. 

“I don’t know how much longer I can last. I’m so close to cumming,” she whispers, and it only spurs you on to lead her into a satisfying climax. Slow as you are penetrating her, you want the moment to last longer. A few minutes isn’t enough for you to relish the warm sensation of your cock buried in her incredibly tight hole. Still, she has this look in her weary eyes demanding you to pull through, which you happily oblige.

“Where do you want me to cum?” you ask, slowing your pace down that even snails move faster. You’re unwilling to take any risks, especially with someone like her.

“Anywhere you want.” Wonyoung continues to fuck herself against your cock, apathetic about everything else except the high she intensely seeks. “I swear, if you pull out now, I’m going to—”

A kiss on those sensitive collarbones tempers her demanding mouth, back to those broken, varied moans. Another reminder that she’s nowhere close to grabbing you by the balls like Yujin could. As punishment, the dress must come off, but you know it’s not worth the rest of your life in perpetual harassment in exchange for temporary pleasure. You’ve already learned your lesson; she’ll understand it one day.

For now, you settle into that laid back pace, lifting yourself a bit off the couch as much as your legs allow you to. Wonyoung has basically marked down your whole back with her nails, hoarsely squealing and whimpering as her body trembles. You can feel it in every part of her how she’s ready to cum with the way her pussy clenches against your cock, unwilling to let go, just like the first time you entered her.

“Oh god, I’m gonna cum—” 

Right on the dot, Wonyoung finally gives in, throwing her head back to let pleasure run its course. It pulls you deep, gives her juices to liberally coat your shaft with delicious waves of slick, dripping on the couch and down to her thighs, forming a lifetime connection with you. The force sends you back down on the sofa, enough to stop you right in your tracks, long before you’re even close to cumming. 

“Oh my god, oh my god. I came so much.” Firmly clinging to you, she rests her head on your shoulders, completely zapped of all her strength. Her eyes tilt down to note the wet puddle blocked by your legs. It doesn’t alarm her in the slightest; to her, a replacement couch is cheaper than a thorough cleaning. 

Kissing her ear and placing her beside you on the sofa, you quietly ask, “How was it?”

“I came so much. Oh my God,” she says, unable to comprehend she spilled that much. Her gaze remains glued to the wet pool formed on the couch, now seeing the full extent of her wreckage. A curious finger taps the sticky pool to make sure she’s not imagining things. “I don’t think I ever came that much with any dildo.”

Putting back your pants on, you smile at her innocent reaction. She’s still fresh to it all, but there’s a curiosity in her eyes, wanting to learn more. “You’ll get used to it.”

“I really wanted to undress you, you know.” you follow, examining her from head to toe, all sweaty and clothes soiled from a simple session—and you weren’t trying too hard. “I can’t help but imagine what’s beneath all that clothing.”

“You’ll see.” Her eyes have a fiery glint reminiscent of your girlfriend, and all of a sudden, she has this renewed life. “Just so you know, you didn’t cum in me, asshole.”

“Just being safe,” you reply, shrugging your shoulders. “Wasn’t sure if you were on the pill or not.”

“Of course I was on the pill.” Wonyoung looks away, but you can discern the scornful expression on her features, seemingly offended by your comment. “I would never.”

You flash a taunting smirk, ready to play her preferred trick. There was no way this would end after a one and done. “Why don’t we take this to the bed right now, then?” 

—————

It was so obvious right from the start. 

The door barely grants access to Wonyoung’s bedroom, but you already had a finger directed at the center of the mattress, pointing out the glaringly obvious figure laying on its edge. It doesn’t surprise you in the slightest, and looking back in retrospect, everything building up to this moment was all part of an elaborate plan.The questions, the setup, the secretive location—they were all red flags. Then again, you always think with your cock, not with your brain, especially when there’s a pretty girl begging for it.

“Hey sweetheart,” says Yujin, whimsically, posing on her side like it’s one of her typical photoshoots. Like Wonyoung, she’s still in her performance outfit, but with her hair down in contrast to her junior’s bun. “Having fun?”

“Was,” you retort, but your complaint has no ground when you’re unable to keep your eyes off your seductive girlfriend. 

She smirks and giggles, knowing everything’s falling into place. “Wony baby. How was the experience?”

“Pretty good,” replies Wonyoung, smiling from ear to ear. “He didn’t cum in me though.”

“Hey,” you suddenly blurt out, turning your gaze to the younger woman, not even trying to hide your annoyance, because you know what really happened.

“You’ll get yours, babe.” Yujin rolls off the bed to approach you, retaking control of what’s hers from her friend. She then pushes you onto the mattress, staring you down like a hungry predator stalking down her prey, aroused by the taste of blood—or in this case, lust. If not for those fiery pupils watching your every little move, hammering home the fear of God into your soul, there would be some fight in you to resist.

Now that’s a lie, because you would never—she always had her way with you.

“Watch and learn.” Climbing and hovering atop you, slowly spreading your legs, Yujin looks over to her best friend, watching on eagerly to see what it’s really like with you two. She’s seated on the edge of the bed, having restored much of her elegant poise to its clean, camera friendly form. 

“You did a great job warming him up for me,” says Yujin, grinding her hips against your clothed prison, already on the verge of blowing up. The two beauties watch in amusement as your tent pitches a second time. Fuck. You’re already leaking copious amounts, it’s quite obvious, and she’s humping you at such a relaxed tempo. 

“He really wanted to undress me,” comments Wonyoung, still flashing that princess-like beam, looking innocent in the matter, when in fact, she’s the instigator. “I told him not to, and he thankfully didn’t, but I felt his hands on my zipper a few times.”

“Mmm, being so naughty when I’m not looking?” Yujin’s tone is honeyed, but her movements are anything but. The pace she grinds herself against you quickens, and you’ve never felt so desperate for release, but you had no say in the matter—not when she has your hands tied over your head, kept in place by Wonyoung’s delicate but firm grip. “Were you ready to leave me for her? Good choice, but typical.”

Quick fingers make near-instant work of your pants and underwear, pushed down to the floor in an instant, freeing up your hard cock. Such relieving freedom is taken away just as quickly as it’s given when Yujin seizes you by the balls and your length, setting you alight. Each second burns hotter than the last, a kind of fucked-up form of punishment typical of the justice system. 

“Jesus, f-fuck, Yujin—” you hoarsely whimper, visibly struggling to gather air, but it only serves to arouse Yujin, and she reprimands your feeble oppression with a tighter lock on your most sensitive parts, smirking devilishly. It’s useless. For Yujin, this is all play, an elaborate demonstration to teach Wonyoung, but the pain is real. There’s a good likelihood you may not have a functioning pelvis in the morning. 

“You’re being very rough on him.” Wonyoung watches on concernedly, but also intrigued by the rather torturous method being performed. She knows she couldn’t overpower Yujin if she tried, and well, she most certainly didn’t want to be on the receiving end of her hands, either.

“He actually enjoys being handled like this, dear.” Yujin makes sure not a single spot in your shaft is left unchecked by her steely hold. The deflated, helpless expression on your face says otherwise, but it’s only a front for what comes after. Little white spurts spill from the tip of your shaft, sufficient evidence to prove her point. “See?”

“Mm, are they like this all the time?” Wonyoung remains unconvinced. 

“Not always, but you’ll find one someday—someone who’ll beg on their knees to fuck you.” Her stranglehold on your cock loosens, finally giving you some actual breathing room—at least in your groin. “Didn’t you have that Korean government official sending you birthday ads and flowers?”

“Too ugly for my taste.” The younger woman grimaces at the reminder of that particular man, wishing he never be brought up in conversation ever again, much to her friend’s laughter. “I would never.”

Yujin nods along in agreement. “You’re too pretty for him. I bet he doesn’t even have a big dick like our little friend over here.”

“True.” Suddenly, both pairs of eyes turn in your direction, stare you down with a malicious smirk, full of purposeful intent. You would meet them halfway with your own confidence, but not when you’re in such a powerless position and with most of your strength sapped.

“Come up here.” Yujin gestures to her keen friend, hopping off your lap to make room for the lighter woman. Hiking up her equally short shorts, she hovers above you, giving you a peek of her splayed out pussy—the one you’ve craved for so long. Meanwhile, Wonyoung occupies the space previously occupied by Yujin, smothering you in a sea of soft, creamy thighs. The older woman spins around to face her untrained partner, hanging her cheeky flesh atop your face—a perfect view and obstruction.

“What are you gonna do to him?” asks Wonyoung, eyes wide with curiosity at Yujin’s seemingly awkward and strained position.

“Don’t pay attention to him.” Yujin promptly rests her ass against your face like a pillow, followed by her thighs muffling up your ears. “Get on top of his cock.”

Wonyoung complies, gliding her hips down in a graceful manner until she hilts herself down to your base, impaling her cunt with your hard dick. The inviting, suffocating heat that surges throughout your sensitive body makes you violently tremble. What a position you are in, something that most people in the country could only dream of. Two beauties in the prime of youth, desired by everyone, sandwiching you with their perfect, goddess-like figures. At this point, you were simply an outlet of pleasure to two wanton, hot bodies and nothing more. 

“O-oh God—” Yujin lets out a prolonged, tense whine as your tongue licks between her glistening folds, indulging in the sweet taste of her wet juices. Her thighs tighten up in response to your stimulation, closing spaces where you can breathe, but that doesn’t bother you. You craved her more than a drink in a dry desert with the way you lapped up her slick, and her suffocating legs were nothing but practice to hold in your deep breaths. For once, it was nice to have some form of control in the situation.

“You okay?” asks Wonyoung, clambering her palms against your thighs, looking hesitant.

“More than okay. This feels so fucking good.” Yujin’s confident expressions gradually melt away to make room for pleasure to take over. Before long, her slender, hourglass-shaped hips ride against your face, maximizing the areas your tongue can dig into. Her hands cling to your clothed chest for support, unable to remain balanced while you continue to feast on her. Miraculously, she’s still able to formulate a follow up, albeit with a string of stammers and stutters. “S-see? You’ll w-want your guy to be l-like this.”

“C-come on, ride h-his c-cock, d-dear. I-I-i’m s-sure h-he won’t mind.” Yujin reassures her friend with a weak smile that immediately folds under the helpless, blissful sensations her body feels. 

Fueled by newly found courage, Wonyoung glides and slams her hips against yours in delicate, graceful motions, still testing her limits. Your primal instincts take hold of you and you thrust upwards in kind, making her thin figure move atop you in smooth waves. It doesn’t take long before their collective moans form a harmonious symphony that you wish you could hear perfectly, if not for the two layers of silky, thick skin blocking your ears. 

“F-fuck!” Wonyoung whines, clutching at your waist, but the overbearing pleasure coursing through her body almost makes her fall off multiple times. Thankfully, her closest friend is there to keep her on her toes. “O-oh my God, o-oh God—”

“Feels good, doesn't it?” Yujin rests her hands on her junior’s shoulders while grinding her ass against your face, allowing you an endless fill from her slick fountain. “Just hold on. I’m here, okay?”

Wonyoung nods. Unsatisfied with her limitations, her hips increase in pace riding you. She wants to prove she can handle it, and that she’s ready for more of it. Soon, she grows comfortable, fully adjusted to your length. No longer needing Yujin’s help, she helps herself to her own lewd pleasures, using your cock roughly as her conduit. 

Not a single second passes by that you feel your body split in half, moving in two different wavelengths: one half preoccupied with eating Yujin’s delicious pussy, and the other slowly pumping into Wonyoung’s tight, sopping cunt. You’re a quick learner. You know all their sweet spots to hit and create the most satisfying sounds from their lips. Subtlety is the least of their priorities—a point proven when they’re loudly cursing and passionately declaring how good you feel, echoing across several rooms. The rooms might be soundproof, but the entire mansion may as well hear you three fuck.

Between clean licks of Yujin’s wet folds, when she lifts her ass out of your view, you can barely make out her and Wonyoung’s pleasure-ridden expressions. The two friends have begun making out with each other in between lewd moans and whispers, while never letting up the pace they ride you with.  

You’d love to lay in this position forever, as the complementary piece for two of the most beautiful girls you’ve ever met to pour out their pleasure in. But you knew deep down it wouldn’t last long, especially with Wonyoung, freshly recovered from your first session with her. She was always a ticking time bomb with a shorter fuse, accelerated by the now vigorous rhythm she rode your cock. It was always on your mind that this was her first, but she was fucking you like she had racked up a significant body count.

“S-so c-close,” whines Yujin, huskily, the first spoken word in a while that isn’t either your name or some kind of profanity. 

“M-me too,” adds Wonyoung, breaking sequence with a deep kiss of her partner’s lips. There might be no competition, but the twosome’s intensity rises even higher as they desperately chase after that climax. Your body is close to falling apart, cock throbbing wildly, also on the cusp of sweet release, but you’re merely a silent witness with little to no say. You’re just a channel for them to bask in bodily, sexual pleasure. 

It’s all but inevitable at this point. The real question is: who would be the first to cum, the first to start a chain reaction?

Their cries bounce loudly against the walls of the bedroom, past opened rooms as they lose control of their bodies, fucking themselves on you until the dams finally break. Yujin’s muscles spasm and crush you between her thighs. For a moment, you’d think she could snap you in half like a twig. A waterfall and a lake forms on opposite ends of your powerless body, creating two sticky pools on both sides. The powerful double surge of their climaxes is enough to bring you to a full stop, allowing them to drown you in their orgasmic bliss, creating one last crescendo as a swan song to their peaks. 

The wave of Wonyoung’s orgasm washing over your cock should make you orgasm too, urging the tightness in your balls to burn up. Thank your lucky stars you grinded to a standstill right as they came, giving you enough time to put up some form of resolve not to cum in her right then and there. You’ve been holding the impulse for so long, but you wanted your load not to belong to her first.

To your regret, Yujin clambers off you, parting her bountiful ass away from your face and bringing you to the light. Similarly, Wonyoung gingerly slides off your lap, rolls over to the side, wrapping an arm around your body, completely zapped of all her energy. Yujin rests opposite her junior, not as fatigued as she is. She can’t resist giggling when she sees the aftermath done to you, your entire face a canvas for her cum, which you clean with your tongue. 

“You did a number to her. Good job,” she says, darting her eyes over to her tired friend. She plants a finger on your groin, collecting a sampler of Wonyoung’s juices to taste in her mouth before gathering more to put in your mouth as well. Licking her wet digits, she adds, “Tasty.”

Her words barely register in your brain, and so does the little slick she places in your mouth. Your mind only focuses on one particular thing you’ve always wanted to do the whole night besides fucking, and that is to undress both girls and fuck them.

“You okay, Wony?” You turn over to face the worn out Wonyoung, who shoots you a weak but satisfied smile. She lifts her tired arm to give you a thumbs up, as if her beautiful beam wasn’t enough of a reassurance. “You know Yujin and I fuck more than once, right?”

“I know,” replies Wonyoung, coming out as little more than a faint whisper, mirroring her exhaustion. “Give me a minute. Maybe two.”

Eager as you were, you needed a breather, too, and there was no better place to rest than in the middle of two hot girls, lovingly resting their arms around you like they belonged to you.

—————

You take a beat to wipe the nonexistent filth off your chest as the two beauties stride ahead of you towards the desk table. With the way they walk, it doesn’t look apparent that they were railed to oblivion minutes prior. An insignificant detail that quickly becomes forgotten when your eyes take in the seductive and inviting manner they present themselves to you. Two sets of mouthwatering cheeks peek through their particularly short shorts—the most intrusive thing between you and them.

“Come on and fuck us, sweetheart,” says Yujin, looking over her shoulder with that sultry, near-impossible to resist gaze to entice you with sweet, dirty pleas, as if you weren’t already intending to fuck them hard. You always loved to hear those two words, but it’s a lot more special that she’s not alone. 

“You still owe me your cum, baby,” adds Wonyoung, trying but cutely failing to mimic her friend’s motions and sexy voice. There’s still an air of elegance and cutesiness in her projection that almost makes you giggle in amusement, but you wouldn’t dare—not when Yujin’s there, eying your little every move, growing impatient and testy, likely because she would pick her over you any day. 

Count your blessings.

It’s not difficult to get hard again, especially with the delicious sight in front of you. You finally rid the pesky dress shirt they’ve never removed and expose yourself down to your barest essentials. Positioning yourself between their legs, you stroke your cock with your hand, paint flecks of precum on their round cheeks, warming yourself up to embrace their heat. It’s impossible not to give their flesh a good smack as a reminder that their clean image is nothing more than just that—an image, a facade. You know them more intimately than anyone else.

“You two are so fucking hot,” you say, peppering their asses with a palmful, first to Yujin, then to Wonyoung. “And so naughty. I wonder what those people would say when they see you looking like this?” 

“What did I tell you about kissing ass during sex, sweetheart?” Yujin shoots pointed daggers in your direction, unamused. Wonyoung’s not innocent either, following her senior’s eyes with an intrigued gaze. “Put it in already, babe.”

And that was all she said. 

It only takes a moment before Yujin falls back to earth. All of her confidence instantly crumbles as you line yourself between her folds, then promptly invade her tight, welcoming pussy, foregoing all manner of pleasantries. She’s as warm and divine as you always wanted her, made easier and slicker by all the juices dripping and flowing down her toned legs. Her face rolls and slams against the surface, yet it can barely contain her strained cries of pleasure. Frantic nails scratch against the board’s edge as her body reacts to every little jolt, surrendering herself to your every whim.

You don’t leave Wonyoung unattended either. You slip a finger between her soaked lips, watch as her sweet, innocuous face crumbles into something lewd, something corrupted. Her eyes immediately go shut and her mouth goes wide with a whine a pitch higher than her senior before they melt into the desk. She’s a bundled mess, moaning into her friend’s ear as her pussy graciously coats your fingers with thick sheens of slick.

“P-please, o-oh God—”

“F-fuck, f-fuck, aaaaah—”

Their combined voices of strained, distorted bliss, dripping from their pleasure-laden faces spur you on and motivate you to ruin them some more. It’s unbelievable how they present themselves out there with a clean image when they have the most salacious, lewd tongues in private. None of it makes sense, how they could wear skimpy clothing in the sight of the most esteemed and well-regarded people in the room and no one would bat an eye, and they certainly wouldn’t raise an eyebrow with how loud they are as they’re being pounded from behind.

None of that ultimately matters to you. You don’t see two big celebrities in front of you. You don’t see your girlfriend and her partner asking for sex. You only see two of the hottest girls you know demanding pleasure, and you’re more than willing to give them everything.

With one hand gripped on Yujin’s ass and two fingers on the other deep inside Wonyoung’s cunt, you dive in and indulge into their overwhelming wetness. This is the kind of sex you always preferred—without any banter, without any further demands, just mindless submission into each other’s heat, filling the air with only the most pornographic sounds and nothing else. There’s nothing the two can do in response, especially when their bodies are squirming and vibrating beneath you, tightly clinging on the desk for dear life, growing wetter with each pump into their wanton pussies.

Without any voices in your head giving you directions, you have free reign to toy with them, use them as your outlet of pleasure now. So you switch your position behind them, sliding your wet dick inside Wonyoung’s pussy and replacing your cock inside Yujin’s cunt with your fingers. Even as you skip a beat, they’re too enamored in their own pleasures to realize your sudden absence, and far preoccupied by the new presence in their loins to care. 

That’s the sequence you follow: mindlessly stroking yourself deep into their hot, drenched cunt while fingering the other, back and forth, ignoring the discomfort you feel in both your legs and fingers from this disruptive cycle. Your only regret is not being able to see the twisted expressions in their stained features without a mirror to revel in their perfect, pornographic image, but the chorus of moans accompanied by your flesh slapping against their flesh are more than enough of a validation. 

“Going to cum, fuck,” you quietly announce, not wanting to let one seize demand over the other, but their ears catch wind of your little words. They tilt their heads slightly upward, still in the throes of bodily pleasure.

“Please cum for me.”

“Cum inside me, baby.”

Distinct as their voices are, they’re indiscernible to your ears, especially when they’re so husky and strained. Using the last of your strength, you pull out of someone’s pussy, stroke your throbbing cock with your hand, gasping and grunting as you finally let go. Gripping the other hand on someone’s waist, thick streaks of seed stain both girls’ clothes and cheeks, coat reddish spots of pounded flesh, letting it drip down their butt and thighs, to their boots.

The two girls lie motionless on the desk while you cling to their waist, gasping for air, barely holding out after your powerful release. Their legs and ass glow with your freshly coated sheen under the orange lights of the bedroom, and they sparkle brighter than any diamond in the world. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” Yujin’s voice brings you back to reality. She’s the first to catch you in her embrace, cheekily smiling. 

Unable to muster up the strength to speak, you simply nod, head still spinning.

“Is it okay if I ask you a question?” Wonyoung asks, having unlatched herself from the table to join in the embrace, pecking your cheek with her soft lips. Your eyes glaze over the young beauty in response.

“Whose pussy was better? Mine or hers?”

A question you certainly have no answer to—nor do you have any intention of answering.

“I guess he’s still undecided,” says Wonyoung, turning to her senior, smirking. “Do you know?”

“Nope. I have no idea either.” Yujin’s sweet grin turns into the same, wicked smirk. 

Something’s wrong; you can feel it. You feel yourself staggering backward, saved only by their embrace of you. Yujin and Wonyoung kiss and moan into your body while moving you in the direction of the bathroom.

Possession of control swings back in their favor. They have you exactly where they want.

“Only one way to find out.”

—————

(A/N: Holy shit this one was an uphill one to create. I'm not a Wonyoung simp, not in the slightest even after writing this piece, but her SBS Gayo outfit made me feel some kind of way. Then there's Yujin being perfect as always. This is barely my new longest fic, topping out at a little over 12K words, and working on it became a chore at times. I only revisited this universe only because of those outfits and how good they looked together. Thank you for reading!)

#smut #kpop smut #ive #yujin #wonyoung

[lemoncrushh]

Tattooed Heart - Part I

SUMMARY: You are a cocktail waitress at a swanky lounge. Harry comes in one night, and you instantly dislike him. But another encounter eventually changes your opinion.

PAIRING: Waitress Y/N x Artist/Tattoo Artist Harry

TROPES: Enemies to Lovers

MUST BE 18+ TO READ

WORD COUNT: 4K+

STORY PAGE

You could spot the birthday parties from across the room. Beautiful, rich kids and socialites tend to go all out, with the balloons and banners, ordering bottles or at the very least, top shelf cocktails by the dozens. On occasion, you might get a wealthy middle-aged businessman, or some guy who just made his first half-mil in crypto, ready to live it up for the night, but they usually kept a lower profile, not attracting as much attention to their celebration.

Zelda’s was a swanky, high-dollar lounge for the rich and the wannabes. In your two years as a cocktail waitress there, you’d learned how to spot the difference. Those with money knew how to spend it. Those that were only there for one evening of “let’s pretend” spent frivolously, cashing it in before - or sometimes after - going belly-up.

Tonight seemed to be just like every other weekend evening, the corner booths filled with decorations and Gucci-lipped twenty-somethings taking cell phone pics of each other. You gave your best fake smile, ready to serve anyone willing to blow a few hundred on drinks and hopefully dishing out hefty tips.

“What can I get you, doll?” you asked the blond at the end of the half-circle booth.

She gave you a quizzical look at first, as though you had just interrupted a private conversation. Then with a flip of her hair, she smiled at her group.

“Oh, I think Harry was gonna order for us all,” she said. “It’s his birthday.”

“And which one is Harry?” you grinned at the three young men who shared the booth, all dressed in suit jackets with their shirts unbuttoned past their pecs. Everyone at the table pointed to the dark-haired guy who sat in the center with his hands up.

“That would be me,” he remarked nonchalantly in a syrupy British accent.

“Well, Happy Birthday, Harry,” you raised your voice over the loud music. “What are we having for this celebration?”

“Tequila, the best you’ve got,” he replied, his ringed finger gesturing in a circle. “All around. And a bottle of Cristal.”

Two of the girls at the table cheered, clearly impressed with Harry’s selection.

“Sounds like a good party to me,” you nodded. “Be right back.”

Heading over to the bar, you heard the group cackle behind you. Then one of the girls shouted, “Stop it!” When you reached the edge of the bar, giving John, the bartender your order, you snuck a glance over at the table. The girl sitting next to Harry held her cell phone up to take a photo, the birthday boy with his tongue in her ear. Clearly the group had gotten a head start on drinks before they’d ever arrived.

“Another one of those, huh, Y/N?” scoffed John.

“Same shit, different day,” you commented, shaking your head. “Gimme one of the birthday glasses, will you?”

“Ah, which Paris Hilton wannabe is the birthday girl? Lemme guess…the blonde in the silver bandeau top getting her ear tongue fucked.”

You chuckled. “Try the fucker.”

“Oh yeah?” John raised a brow, placing the bottle of Cristal on your tray. “The himbo, eh? Wouldn’t have guessed it.”

“Why not?”

“Imposter Armani suit? I can spot it a mile away, honey.”

You laughed as he finished pouring the tequila. “Guess he’s out of his element. But he obviously wants to impress on his birthday.”

“From the look of the caliber of girls he’s with, I’d say I don’t blame him.”

You nodded, carefully taking the tray. You knew what John meant. Harry may have not been the typical socialite to walk through Zelda’s doors, but the women in his company obviously were. And they expected to be treated as such.

Returning to the table, you gave your biggest smile as you set out the tequila. You noticed Harry eyeing you as the rest of the group claimed a glass.

“This is your best tequila?” he asked, almost in a huff as though you couldn’t have possibly selected the best.

“Definitely,” you replied. “It’s a Siete Leguas.”

“Hmm.” Lifting his glass, he let the liquid swirl before taking a sniff.

“Smells good to me,” remarked the blond next to him. “But I don’t know much about tequila.”

Harry took a slow sip, his eyes still on you above the rim of his glass.

“What d’ya say, H?” asked one of the other gentlemen.

“It’ll do.”

Trying your best not to react negatively, you chewed your bottom lip. “I can get you something else if you like.”

“I said it’s fine.”

Not bothering to mask your frown, you took a deep breath through your nostrils. This was gonna be a long night.

“Would you like me to pop the champagne now?” you asked.

“Sure, go ahead,” Harry gestured with his hand, taking another sip of his tequila.

Taking the bottle, you opened it with finesse, just the way you’d been taught and had been doing since you’d started working at Zelda’s. The girls all cheered when the cork popped. Harry, however, was not impressed.

Grabbing the special birthday glass, you began to pour.

“What the fuck is that?” spat Harry.

“It’s for you,” you smiled.

“I don’t want that. Gimme one of the regular champagne glasses.”

“I’ll take it!” beamed the blond on the end. “It’s cute!”

Harry rolled his eyes before handing the glass to her with a smirk.

“Here, Tawnie,” he said. “Pretend it’s your birthday.”

“Aw, yay!” she giggled with glee.

Trying to keep your composure, you poured another glass of Cristal, handing it to Harry.

“Shouldn’t ladies go first?” he remarked, scooting the glass to the girl next to him.

“God, I’m gonna be so wasted,” she laughed.

Swallowing hard, you knew where this was headed, so you poured champagne for the other two girls, then passed around the remaining glasses to the guys, leaving the last for Harry.

“Happy Birthday,” you said again, this time with no enthusiasm. “Enjoy.”

Leaving the bottle on the table, you turned away, cursing under your breath before making your way back to the bar.

“Jesus fucking Christ, kill me now,” you whined at John.

“That bad, huh?”

“He’s a petulant, disrespectful asshole!”

“The good looking ones usually are,” John sighed.

“You think he’s good looking?” you twisted slightly to look over at the booth. Harry was laughing at something one of the other guys had said.

“Honey, don’t tell me you didn’t notice!” chuckled John.

“I was too busy wanting to pour tequila over his head,” you grimaced.

“Well, try not to let it get to you, hon. Just be your sweet self, and get that massive tip. The night will be over, and you’ll never have to see him again.”

With a nod and a sigh, you took the refills for the next table, handing them out with a bright smile. The older gentlemen gave you a thanks and a wink, one of them patting your behind as you bent over. You hated being fondled at work, but if you had a choice, you’d take that any day over dealing with jerks like Harry.

“Excuse me!” you heard someone shout as you started to make your way back to the bar. Speak of the devil.

“Yes?” you grinned, stepping over to Harry’s table. “What can I do for you?”

“Can I get a glass of wat-” asked a brunette before Harry rudely interrupted.

“We need water,” he said, accusingly.

“Sure, no problem. All around?”

“Of course,” he rolled his eyes. Apparently this man lived to be constantly perturbed.

“I’ll get those for you right now.”

“That should have been like…a given, right?” he remarked. “What waitress doesn’t automatically bring water?”

With a sigh, you slid your tray under your arm, pressing your hand on your hip.

“If you want water…or anything for that matter…you can ask for it!” you barked. “I’m happy to bring it to you. But you don’t have to treat me like an imbecile!”

“Jeez,” one of the other guys muttered under his breath.

“What?” Harry glared at you, his eyebrows knitted together.

“You heard me, Birthday Boy! I’m just doing my job!”

As you started to turn away, you heard him mutter, “Doesn’t look like it,” followed by the rest of the group either giggling or shouting “Ooooh!”

You decided not to delight him with a response. Instead, you strutted to the bar where your darling pal John was already getting water glasses ready.

“Fuck me sideways, girl, that was rough!” he exclaimed.

“I’m done, John! I can’t deal with these assholes anymore!”

“Uh oh, looks like you may have to,” John averted his eyes to the glasses in front of him. Turning to see what he was talking about, you nearly ran into Mr. Personality.

“You owe me an apology,” he growled.

“Excuse me? I think it’s the other way around!” you yelled.

“I’m out with my friends for my birthday,” he explained, gesturing toward the table, “and I don’t appreciate the way you’re treating me.”

“The way I’m tr-” you turned beet red. “How dare you! You entitled, self-centered prick!”

“Easy, girl!” you heard John shout, but you paid no mind. You were ready to have it out with this guy.

“What did you call me?”

“Y/N!” someone else shouted. Looking up, you noticed your boss, a scowl on his face as the entire lounge had turned their focus on your encounter. “What seems to be the trouble here?”

“Are you the manager?” asked Harry.

“Yes, sir, how can I assist you?”

“I’m not sure exactly,” he began, “but your waitress here seems to have a problem with me. I’m here celebrating my birthday with my mates, and she’s gone out of her way to be rude to me all evening.”

“What?!?!” you shouted incredulously.

“Y/N, did you have a problem with this young man?”

“No, sir,” you shook your head, your arms crossed over your chest. “It’s the other way around. He’s been nothing but rude since-”

“She just called me a prick,” Harry interjected.

“Because you’re being one!” You glared at the asshole, shooting daggers at him. You felt like your insides were on fire as you held your hands in fists at your sides.

“Y/N, if you can’t control your temper, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave,” said your boss.

“I’m sorry, but he’s so rude, Mr-”

“Y/N,” your boss narrowed his eyes at you, before turning to Harry. “Sir, I do apologize for my employee. We do not condone this kind of behavior at our lounge.”

You watched Harry as his shoulders fell, a breath releasing from his nose. “I should hope not.”

“Now…” your boss added. “What can we do to rectify this situation? Perhaps we can put your tab on the house?”

Harry raised his brows, surprised at the offer. “That would…yes, that would be nice. Thank you.”

Your boss nodded, patting Harry on the back. “No problem whatsoever. I hope you’ll come see us again.”

“Not if she’s here,” Harry scowled.

“I assure you, that won’t happen.”

With a gasp, you watched your boss turn around and face you. “Get your things, Y/N,” he said in the most relaxed voice possible, as though you weren’t just getting canned.

“Are you serious?” you cried.

“We don’t talk to our patrons this way,” he explained. “I won’t allow it. Now, put your apron away and clock out.”

Your jaw set, you tried your best not to cry. No, you wouldn’t allow yourself to. Not in front of him.

“Fine,” you said, untying your apron. You slapped it down hard on the bar, then turned for the back room, but not before noticing the sly, satisfied smirk on jerkhead’s face.

Only when you reached the back room did you let the tears fall. Cursing at yourself, at Harry, and your boss, and at the entire situation, you managed to grab your jacket and purse. You almost forgot to clock out, but you figured you might not get paid otherwise. Sitting on the dark green leather sofa, you waited until you thought Harry and his crew might be gone. Then wiping your eyes, you stood up, nearly bumping into John.

“Oh, Y/N, honey I’m so sorry!” he cried, wrapping you in a big hug.

“What the fuck, John? Why does he get to win?”

“I don’t know. The whole ‘the customer is always right’ thing, I guess.”

“That’s a load of bullshit,” you sobbed against his chest..

“Preaching to the choir, sister.”

“Is he gone yet?”

“Mr. Pretentious? Yeah, he left a few minutes ago. Want me to walk you out?”

With a nod, you let John walk you halfway through the lounge until you met up with your boss again who insisted he be the one to see you out. Just in case you were to cause a scene or some shit. As if you would. Not after that whole ordeal. You felt completely defeated…and deflated. You felt the eyes on you as you made it to the front door. Your boss held it open for you as you stepped into the balmy night air. With a sigh you walked to your car, turning once to give Zelda’s the middle finger.

Fuck that Harry guy. Fuck him to hell and back.

“Are you ready?” asked Shae.

With a sigh and a nod, you grabbed your keys. Last month you had promised your roommate that you’d go with her to get a tattoo. While you had been thrilled then about getting some new ink, after getting fired from Zelda’s, the excitement had worn off. In fact, you’d considered canceling all together, seeing as spending dough on a tat now seemed frivolous, and you could certainly use the money in case you couldn’t find another job soon. But in the end, you decided you owed yourself some kindness. And besides, Shae was chomping at the bit to get one, and she wouldn’t let you live until you went with her.

You drove to Fine Line Ink, just a few blocks from your apartment. You’d driven by it several times, but had never gone inside. Shae specifically requested this tattoo shop because apparently it was fairly well-known on social media. At least your roommate had done her research, even though she had no idea what tattoo she wanted to get.

“I’ll know it when I see it,” she’d insisted.

You heard 90s rock music playing when you opened the door, but saw no one standing near the counter, or even in the waiting area. The front room was dark, but with warm lighting, much like at Zelda’s. You could smell incense burning as you gazed around at the walls decorated in various designs. Wandering over to the glass counter, you inspected the display of body jewelry.

“Hi, how can I help you?” you heard a voice say.

Your body instantly felt cold as you stood up straight. You knew that voice. And it was one you’d hoped you would never have to hear again. Turning around, you caught a glimpse of his tall frame, his t-shirt stretched tight across his chest, his biceps peeking out from the sleeves.

Motherfucker.

“Hey,” beamed Shae. “We’re here to get tats.”

Shae gestured toward you, and your body went numb.

“Oh?” Harry raised a brow, then looked at you. The recognition and disdain both happened instantly. “Oh.”

Turning back to Shae, he asked, “Do you know what you want?”

“Not exactly,” she shrugged. “Nothing too big. But not too small either.”

Harry chuckled. “Alright. I have a book right here,” he pointed to one on the counter. “It’s got some ‘not too big, not too small’ ideas in there, if you wanna take a look.”

“Okay, thanks!”

“Take your time,” Harry grinned at her. “I’ll be back.”

He gave Shae a small wave, but you didn’t miss the way his expression changed when he glanced at you before he disappeared to the back.

“So what are you thinking of getting?” your friend asked as she perused the book. She stopped on a page of flowers, but scrunched up her nose. “Nah.”

“Um…let’s go somewhere else,” you told Shae, practically pulling her arm out of the socket.

“What? No! I wanna get a tattoo here!”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Why not? I heard this guy’s the best. Plus…he’s like hella hot!”

“No, he’s not,” you argued.

“Are you fucking blind?” scoffed Shae. Turning the page in the book, she stopped and pointed at a baby lion. “That’s it!”

“I just…” you stammered, “I just don’t think this is a good idea anymore. I changed my mind.”

“Did you find something you like?” Harry asked from the doorway.

“No-”

“Uh huh!” exclaimed Shae. “This baby lion is so cute. It’s so me. I want him right here on my hip.” She jutted out her hip, slapping her hand where she wanted the tattoo to go.

Harry chuckled again, making your insides churn. You wanted to vomit.

“Alright,” he said, handing her a clipboard. “If you’ll just fill this out for me, I’ll go prepare your stencil.”

You weren’t sure what to do. You’d already promised your friend, and she looked so excited. You knew there were dozens of other tattoo shops you could go to, but Shae had picked this one. Why did it have to be this guy’s shop? Of all the fucking…

Taking a deep breath, you lowered yourself slowly in a nearby chair as Shae filled out her paperwork. Signing her name, she turned to you with a smile.

“Isn’t it cute? I’m so excited!”

With a gulp, you were about to respond when Harry returned.

“Let’s go back here,” he gestured once he’d taken the clipboard from Shae.

“Wait, my friend’s getting one too,” she looked at you. “Aren’t you?”

“No.” Although the sound came from your mouth, you could have sworn Harry’s lips moved too.

“Um…” you cleared your throat. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Shae asked, confused.

Although you didn’t want to, you gazed at Harry. His frown was so apparent, it almost looked like his eyebrows were sewn together. Finally, he relaxed his expression, pretending for Shae’s benefit.

“Don’t reckon I have enough time, love. It’s only me here tonight.”

You had to hand it to him. That was a good answer.

“Oh,” Shae pouted. “But I wanted to get tats together.”

“It’s alright,” you assured her. “I need to save my money. And I doubt there’s anything here I’d want anyway.”

You had to hand it to yourself. That was a nice dig.

It wasn’t lost on Harry, either. He scowled at you before turning for the tattoo chair, Shae following behind.

“This your first tattoo?” you heard Harry ask as you remained in the doorway.

“Yes. So please be gentle,” your friend replied, obviously flirting.

You rolled your eyes as Harry chuckled. In any other situation, with any other man, not only would you have encouraged the flirting, you might have even joined in. Both John and Shae were right in saying he was good looking…or hella hot as it were. Even you had to admit that. But you hated to. And you also hated how his laugh rang through the shop, like an invisible tattoo of its own, lacing with the sound of the Foo Fighters song that played.

Crossing your arms, you leaned against the door frame, trying to think of a way to get out of the situation. You thought of faking an illness. You did feel like throwing up. But Shae wasn’t having it.

“Come sit over here, Y/N!”

“I’m fine here.”

“Noooo. Come over here in case I need to hold your hand. What if I pass out or something?”

“Do you pass out easily?” Harry asked as he pulled on his gloves.

“No,” Shae replied. “I’m actually not scared of needles. But you never know.”

You caught the grin on Harry’s face as he turned in his chair. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Y/N!” Shae whined. “Please!”

Rolling your eyes, you surrendered, walking slowly toward Harry’s tattoo station. You noted everything he had set out on the tray beside him. At least he seemed to know what he was doing. But you weren’t about to admit that. Grabbing a nearby chair, you took a seat on Shae’s other side, opposite from Harry.

“So, you want it on your left hip?” Harry confirmed.

“Yep.”

“Alright. So I’m gonna need you to pull down your pants just a bit, past your hip, and turn on your right side facing…um…your friend.”

“Yes, sir,” Shae smiled, happily willing to oblige.

You watched as she unbuttoned her jeans, sliding them down as sensually as she could on the leather chair. You caught a glimmer in Harry’s eyes when he noticed she was wearing a thong.

“Seriously?” you scoffed.

“What?” he frowned, looking up at you.

“Do you have to ogle at her for fuck’s sake? She’s getting a tattoo, not stripping for you.”

“You’ve got to be joking.”

“Believe me, joking is the last thing I’d be doing with you.”

Shae stared at you as she laid on her side. “Y/N, it’s okay! He can ogle at me all he wants!”

“Shae,” you narrowed your eyes.

“I think your friend can speak for herself,” remarked Harry.

Making a face, you sat back, crossing your arms and legs. His expression stoic, Harry pushed his chair closer to Shae, lightly swiping her skin with rubbing alcohol. Then he took a disposable razor to gently shave her hip.

“I promise I just shaved this morning,” giggled Shae.

“I’m sure you did,” Harry smirked. “It’s just procedure. We have to thoroughly prep the area before adding ink.”

Taking the stencil, he placed it on Shae’s hip, directly under her panty line.

“Is this where you want it?”

“Yes, that’s perfect.”

“Good.” Harry ran his fingers slowly and smoothly across the thermal paper, and you just had to say something.

“You’re enjoying this way too much.”

Blowing air between his lips, Harry glared up at you.

“Would you stop? I’m just doing my job.”

“Oh, really? Could have fooled me. Looks like you’re trying to feel her up.”

“Y/N, what the fuck?” cried Shae. “Do you have a problem with this guy?”

“Oh, you noticed?”

Shae sat up, looking at you quizzically. “Do you know him?” Then lowering her voice, she whispered, “Did y’all fuck?”

Hearing the question, Harry snorted.

“Yeah, you wish,” you scoffed, giving him the evil eye.

“In your dreams, babe.”

“That’s it, I’m outta here,” you sprinted out of your chair, heading for the door.

“Y/N!” Shae shouted. “What is going on?”

“I’m sorry, Shae, I tried to keep my cool. But I can’t even stand to be in the same room as him.”

“Feeling’s mutual,” muttered Harry.

“Ugh!” you cringed. “C’mon, Shae, pull your pants up. We’ll find someone more competent to do your tattoo.”

“I believe I’m more than competent,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“I’m so lost here,” Shae whimpered, still in her chair. “How do you know each other?”

When you reached the doorway, you turned to face her, your arms still crossed.

“He’s the asshole who got me fired.”

“What?! Are you serious?!”

Adjusting herself in her chair, she faced Harry, waiting for him to retort. But he remained expressionless, his mouth in a straight line. Giving up on getting any response from him, you sighed and gestured for Shae again. When she slid off the chair, buttoning her pants, Harry finally spoke.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“What?” you glared at him.

“I…I didn’t mean to get you fired.”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“I mean it. I was…a complete prick to you…just like you said. And I’m sorry.”

“Pffftt,” you sounded. “It's a little late for that. I lost my job because of you!”

“I know, and I felt bad about it.”

“No, you didn’t!” you spat. “You were ecstatic that you’d gotten your way! You’re an asshole!”

“You’re right,” Harry nodded. “I deserve that. But I hope you know that wasn’t me.”

“Do you have an evil twin?”

“No. I was trying to impress my friends.”

“By being a jerk?” piped Shae.

“Yeah. I know it’s not a good look,” Harry shook his head. He rose from his chair, stepping closer to you. “I was seeing this chick, Nicolette…and she was…used to a certain lifestyle. It felt good to be part of her world for a while.”

“Doesn’t sound like friends to me,” you remarked.

“No. They just wanted to go to Zelda’s and get drunk. I swear, it’s not my scene.”

“You don’t say.”

“Look…” Harry sighed. “I’m not asking for forgiveness because I know you won’t give it to me. I have no real justification for the way I acted. I truly was a prick that night. But I regretted it later. I knew it was wrong of me, and I wanted to apologize but I didn’t even know your name, let alone where to find you. I broke it off with Nicolette, too.”

“Oh, jeez, that makes me feel soooo much better,” you said sarcastically.

Throwing his hands up, Harry turned around and began to gather things from the tray.

“You really have some nerve, you know that?” you added.

Harry spun around, “For what? For apologizing?”

“For everything! For acting like a big shot, especially when you obviously didn’t belong there. For yelling at me in front of the entire bar, including my boss, and for getting me fired. And for being rude to me as soon as I walked in here.”

“Hey, you were rude to me first!”

“I was not!”

“Hey, guys?” Shae interjected. “Maybe we should just drop it. You were right, Y/N. We shouldn’t have come here.”

“I swear, Shae, if I had known he worked here, we wouldn’t have. Let’s go.”

As soon as you pushed the door open, you heard Harry huffing. “Your loss, not mine.”

“Fuck you, dude!” you exclaimed. “And get a life. A real one, not someone else’s.”

FEEDBACK IS LOVE

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry fanfic #harry fan fiction #harry fanfiction #harry fic #harry smut #enemies to lovers #slow burn #harry x reader #harry x yn #tattoo artist!harry #asshole!harry #repost

[thetarttfuldickhead]

Locker Room Conversations III

In which everyone suspects that Roy, Jamie and Keeley are dating. Well, except for Roy.

---

“Oi! Roy!”

At Jamie’s call Roy turned from the board he’d been painstakingly filling with his cramped hand to look at the younger man, changed out of his training kit but still lounging carelessly on the bench by his locker.

“What?” The use of ‘Roy’ rather than ‘Coach’ suggested this had nothing to do with the practice they’d just finished or the upcoming game on Sunday.

“You need to check your phone, mate. Keeley wants us to do brunch tomorrow at her place, and she wonders if you can pick up croissants from that little French place near your house.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sure.” 

“Great.” 

Jamie started typing away furiously at his phone, and Roy was about to turn back to the task at hand when he noticed that the dressing room had fallen suspiciously quiet during the quick exchange. 

“What?” Roy demanded. There was something in that silence that had alarm bells going off in his head… When no one answered him, he cocked his head to the side, donning his very best Roy Kent glare. “What?”

Most of the players looked away. Van Damme looked at Colin. Colin looked at Isaac. Isaac looked at Dani. Dani looked at a pair of socks.

Sighing, but seemingly accepting the burden of his captaincy, Isaac spoke up, gesturing vaguely in a circle that encompassed both Roy and Jamie: “Are you… it’s just that we’ve been wondering, yeah… are the three of you… dating?”

Roy stared. What.

“No.” he said slowly, trying to wrap his head around the fact that this had been a question. “We’re not dating.” They’d been hanging out a lot ever since Manchester, sure, but really, what kind of fucking leap was this? 

“Oh.” And somehow that didn’t sound at all like an oh of course what a very stupid thing to ask but very much like an oh are you sure and What. The. Fuck was going on here?” 

Roy glanced at Jamie, hoping that he might jump in and add his refutation to Roy’s so they could lay this whole ridiculous thing to rest.

Only. Jamie wasn’t looking like he thought this was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. He was making a stupid face, sure, but one that Roy recognized as deliberately noncommittal. And he was keeping conspicuously quiet.

Roy blinked. But. What.

“We’re not dating… ?” he said again, but there was a curious twist to the end of the sentence, turning into more of a question than he had planned, or had ever thought he’d need in relation to this particular subject.

All eyes turned to Jamie.

Unfazed, Jamie shrugged. “Eh. Not really. I mean, we’re taking it slow, see how it goes.”

“Oh.” Collective from the rest of the team and to Roy’s consternation this ‘oh’ sounded like oh right we get it that make sense which was insane because it really fucking didn’t.

“We’re what?” he demanded in what he thought was a very calm and reasonable manner.

“Jesus, man, no need to fucking shout,” Jamie said reproachfully. “This is why we’re taking it slow,” he added to the others. “Old people get so worked about new things, yeah? Gotta take it easy or you’ll spook ‘em.” He turned back to Roy, smiling brightly like the absolute little prick that he was. “Anyway. You’ll bring the croissants for brunch, yeah?”

Roy opened his mouth. Closed it again. Tried to think of something – anything – to say. What eventually came out was, ”If I say yes, does that mean I’ve agreed to go on a date with you?”

With Keeley, and with you.

For some reason, the idea didn’t quite make him want to tear his guts out and use them to strangle Jamie.

Jamie shrugged again, keeping his face as neutral as he could manage (which wasn’t very) but his brown eyes were glittering. Roy’s traitorous heart did a weird little thing at that.

”Nah,” Jamie said, and then his stupidly full lips curled into a slight but impossibly smug smirk. “Maybe. So, brunch?”

Closing his eyes, wondering if he was losing his mind or finally coming to his senses, Roy said, ”Yeah, yeah, we’ll do brunch.”

#roy/keeley/jamie #roy x jamie x keeley #roy kent #jamie tartt #a team of himbos #post 3x11 #ficlet #crack #unless... #i mean the ot3 is not crack #it's roy being completely oblivious #i was going to write serious meta i swear #but here we are #locker room conversations #my stuff

[tiredlilguy]

" Eh... That Party was Dumb Anyways."|DILFTOBER W3

lost? main masterlist. / dilftober masterlist.

a/n: i apologize, this is a little shorter than what i usually write for smut, but i hope you enjoy regardless! <3 i had fun with the idea, but it's been a really busy week for me, so i haven't really been able to write more plot. to be honest though, i'm pretty satisfied with the writing :P enjoy! this is also on A03!

pairing: Aizawa Shota X GN!Reader cw: NSFW 18+ (if you are a minor, you will be blocked), my shitty take on art talk because i go to an art school LMFAO, proofread but there may possibly be some small mistakes desc: you and your boyfriend to out to a fancy party, though you both end up just going home and enjoying each other's company instead. ~~ kink this week: bondage

A warm hand on your lower back was already enough indication to tell you exactly what he wanted.

You knew Aizawa wasn’t too accustomed to parties like you were. He’d usually just roll out of bed, not bother his appearance, and step right out the door. However, tonight was different. You were both asked to come to an event, and not just any kind, but the particular kind that you knew Aizawa hated: drinking expensive champagne in some mansion, dressed in clothes that are far too expensive to even be worn, and talking like you’re the smartest person in the room.

However, he didn’t want to upset you by not attending, not to mention the outfit you chose to wear for yourself was eye-catching: a black suit that was slim to your body, showing off your curves, but was still classy enough. He could stare at you for hours: not to mention your beauty already were had his mind running in circles. So he thought, well, what’s the problem in showing you off just a little bit? He wasn’t one to brag, but having you under his arm made him feel a sense of completion.

Currently, you were talking in a group of people: yours and his coworkers. This particular group of people he wasn’t close with, and so opted to just stay silent as he watched you talk. He would look at other’s responses on occasion, but for the most part, his eyes stayed on you: enjoying the little gestures that you made as you excitedly talked about things you were passionate about. Eventually, the hand that was on your arm traveled down to meet your lower back. It was subtle, but you jumped slightly at the contact, your breath hitching. You thought for a second, finishing up your conversation with the group and excusing yourself. Aizawa followed you, his arm still on your lower back as you walked towards the exit.

“ You tired, Shouta?” you looked up at him, champagne glass in hand.

“ Very,” he heaved, hand moving to wrap around your waist.

You huffed, your empty hand running through your hair as you tilted your head up to finish the champagne glass that was in your hand. Once again, Aizawa’s eyes were observant, watching you gulp up the last bit of alcohol before you placed it on a tray that was sitting on a table right next to the exit.

“ Hm?” you raised a brow, looking up at him.

“ That was hot,” a rare grin crept up on the side of his face, his tired eyes lighting up just a bit with excitement.

You blushed, an open palm pushing at his side a little bit, of course not enough for him to let go,” Jeez… It’s still kind of early. How about we just watch a movie at home or something?”

“ I’d honestly prefer that over going to a party where we just talk about boring art,” Aizawa shrugged.

“ Fair enough,” you softly chuckled,” Art talk is just an excuse for people to sound smart.”

“ I wonder if it’s just because people want to stand on a pedestal… thinking that art is something that needs to be hyper-analyzed. So dumb…,” he guided you both to the train station, his hand a little tighter on your waist as you both walked down the stairs.

Your chuckle turned into a little bit of a laugh,” You might be right, babe. I think people just wanna make sense of everything, and sound cool. Sometimes the artists don’t even want to be hyper-analyzed themselves, but anyway…

Your place or mine?”

…

You were both slumped over Aizawa’s comfy leather couch, watching some low-budget horror movie. You were lying on your back, now just dressed in one of your boyfriend’s baggy sweatshirts. You weren’t wearing any pants at the moment, though. He was on top of you, head resting on your chest as your fingers were lightly combing through his raven logs. You couldn’t help but let out a little bit of a laugh as he couldn’t really quite… fit on the couch himself, his fit dangling over the arm of the couch. Then again, it wasn’t really built for two people to lay down on.

“ I’m getting a little tired,” you admitted,” Should we- mm…!”

You felt a pair of lips smash into yours, though a little bit gently, but it did catch you off guard. Closing your eyes, you returned the kiss back, You didn’t know what to do with your hands for a second, but that quickly melted away as Aizawa pushed his lips a little deeper into yours. Your hands moved across his hand, pulling him in a little closer to you. You felt his hands move down to your thighs, his calloused hands touching your skin with just the right amount of pressure. You felt shivers run up your spine as a familiar heat built up in your stomach. You kissed him back just a little rougher, before pulling away for air.

Aizawa titled his head.

“ S-sorry,” you admitted, sitting up just a bit as he did the same,” You just caught me off guard, so I was kind of losing oxygen.”

“ Hm… cute,” he chuckled to himself, lifting you up,” How about we move?”

You nodded in response, letting him carry you both off of the couch.

…

…

…

“ H-hah! Wait…!” you were breathlessly begging as you were currently tied to the bed. Your wrists were tied above you, a rope that was tied around your chest in a diamond-shaped harness and ended at your waist, keeping you in place. The rope was soft on your skin, but tight enough to stop you from squirming so much, something that your lover didn’t like too much. Though he had to admit, he couldn’t help but enjoy the little reactions to his touches.

It was cute, watching you pathetically struggle against him.

You felt his hot tongue on your ear, gently licking at the shell making you shiver.

“ Heh… It’s cute, watching you try to push me away, baby,” he chuckled against your ear, making your lower body squirm,” You have no idea how much I wanted to tie you up with that outfit you were wearing tonight.”

His tongue moved down to your neck, a trail of saliva following down. You wanted to move, tugging at the rope.

“ Ah ah ah,” he sang against your neck,” Don’t move, baby. Don’t want you to get rope burns on your pretty skin.”

You nodded in response, trying to relax yourself into the mattress. However, the little touches of his hands on your hips only made it harder. You tried to squirm away as he left a couple of hickies and soft bite marks on your neck and shoulders, eventually working his way down to your chest.

He stopped, looking up at you,” So good and so pretty… Wish you could see.”

“ Can you p-please…? Ah-!” you couldn’t finish your sentence, moaning out as you felt one of his fingers tease your hole.

“ What’s that, love,” he asked, a hand cupping his ear mockingly.

“ I just want you to fu- uh! Ngh! H-hey..!,” Aizawa teased you once more, a digit entering inside you without warning. You let out a frustrated moan at him, noticing a smirk come to his face. A pout came to your face as you impatiently stomped your foot into the mattress.

“ Can’t help you if I don’t know what you want, baby,” he leaned down, kissing up from your stomach to your lips before inside ringing another digit, his fingers swirling in your arousal.

“ Th-that’s ‘cause your being mean-!,” you said a little muddled, but tried your best to articulate your words,” I just want you t-to… hah… f-fuck me…! Please fuck me!”

“ Such filthy words from a pretty mouth,” your lover smirked, his fingers coming out of you with a lewd pop as he wiped them off with your thigh. “ Alright, I’ll give you what you want,” he said, sitting himself up as he pulled down his black sweatpants just enough to reveal his boxers, freeing his length.

You nervously shifted your hips at his length, seeing how big he was. He was quick to quell your worries, spitting in his hand to slick you up. He leaned over you as he placed his spit-filled palm at your entrance, kissing you gently. He was slow to insert himself in you, placing a hand on your side as he slowly pushed into you. You whined against his lips, kissing him back weakly as he continued, eventually bottoming out.

“ F-fuck,” he let out a sigh breaking the kiss. You let out a couple of breaths, trying to get used to the stretch. Eventually, you nodded, allowing him to move. He moved his hips, slow at first though. Lazily pulling out before pushing himself back into you. You moaned against him, wrists moving to want to pull him close. However, the rope held you down.

“ Ah-! C-come closer,” you whined,” I w-want to be close t-to you.”

Shouta chuckled, leaning down, the weight of his chest on top of yours. You enjoyed it though, especially having another warm body on yours. This is usually where you’d have your hands on his back, but to your dismay, your hands were still tied up.

Lewd sounds filled the room as he continued to thrust into you. Your moans and breaths of air followed as you felt yourself come closer, his movements becoming sloppier as he tried to move faster.

“ Cumming,” he warned you. You nodded,” M-me too.” That warmth coming up in your chest, practically ready to burst. You both reached your climax, bodies tense as he released into you and you made a mess of yourself.

He weakly pulled out, a huff as he slumped down on the bed beside you. You let out a little laugh at his lazy gesture. You were both getting a little older to where making love seemed to be a lot more exhausting than usual, not like you minded.

Aizawa was quick to pull you close to him though, his stubble brushing up against you as he kissed your cheek. His hands moved up to untie your wrists, and each knot came out easily with a little twist. Eventually, you could put your arms down once again.

“ Did you want to go again?” he offered, despite how tired he knew he was, he was still willing to make you satisfied if you were still a little frustrated.

“ N-not really,” you shook your head,” I’m tired.”

“ Ok,” he hummed, throwing the rope away and pulling you into his chest.

Before you knew it, you were both asleep, arms around each other as you let out soft snores.

[also if you want, please consider getting me a coffee or commissioning me ;) no pressure ofc!!! i understand that we're all in different circumstances/situations, any support of any kind is appreciated <3]

#shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa x reader #aizawa smut #aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha smut #bnha smut #mono writes

[girlsdontlove]

𝐆𝐈𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓 𝐁𝐋𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒

𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐬!

He was going to write back to you but he didn't know what to say. "Writing a letter are you" Bash asked "yeah....I don't know what to write her" Gilbert replied "its a girl" Bash asked "yeah she's back in Avonlea" Gilbert explained "why do you have a problem on what to write her" Bash asked "she just basically said she loved me in her letter and that she might be moving soon and I don't know what to do" Gilbert explained as he handed Bash the letter over. "Where is she moving to" Bash asked "to Charlotte town which isn't to far from Avonlea but it's still far..i'd have to take a train back and forth to see her if I wanted to" Gilbert explained "you want to see her" Bash asked "of course I do" Gilbert said as Bash handed him back the letter. "So tell her how much you like her if you do" Bash said as Gilbert took his writing utensil. Gilbert smiled as he wrote the note for you.

You had just walked in late to school, your eyes had very very light black circles under your eyes. Gilbert was worried sick but he wasn't surprised. Because the day before you two had got into an argument about something silly.

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐫

-he walks up to you the minute he sees you get uncomfortable

-puts an arm around your waist and says "hey buddy so what's going on?"

-the guy ends up walking off and once he does Gilbert smirks and he kisses your cheek

Gilbert had recently told his friends that he was dating someone. "Well whoever this mystery girl is she is very lucky" Charlie said as the boys smile including Gilbert, 'She really is' Gilbert thought as he looked at you as you talked to your friends.

Gilbert was calling the wedding off for you, he had just realized that he wanted you. That he has always wanted you. "You can only know something when you know it" Gilbert told the blond haired girl. "There's another girl innit?" She asked "y-yes.....there is" Gilbert answered which only made her cry more "but it's basically unrequited love" Gilbert said trying to ease her crying, she gave him a pity laugh. "This is happening to me for unrequited love" She scoffed. N with that Gilbert ran his way to your place, he didn't care at this point if you didn't love him back. He had to tell you, he needed to tell you.

𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐱

-missed you ALOT

-finds excuses to talk to you, you dropped something? He'll pick it up for you and make conversation. Your parents need help with something around the house? He'll come over and try to be near you, might make conversation.

-Bash basically made a plan on how to get you two back together

-Gilbert finds out and he thanks Bash

-you two end up getting back together but it's kind of awkward at first

Gilbert laughed softly as he talked to Bash, "you must like her" Bash said to him "eh....I mean she is lovely and her smile is just gorgeous and it's stupid how she hides it because she thinks her teeth make her look ugly but I don't....." Gilbert muttered as he realized. He liked you. He liked Y/n L/n. "You don't what" Bash asked "I like her" Gilbert mumbled as Bash made a small noise that he always made when he was right about something.

He watched as you talked to someone, "can you take the hint I'm dating someone" you said to the guy who was flirting with you "who" the guy asked, you pointed to Gilbert "oh" the guy muttered before walking off. You two just started dating and he hadn't gotten used to it. His heart fluttered at your actions, he was still trying to process that you were his and that he was yours.

The guys watched closely as Gilbert walked up to you, "with you go out with me" Gilbert asked as he smiled at you "I don't know" you muttered. All of the guys were watching you and the girls were too, you didn't want the only female friends you had to hate you because of some stupid and gorgeous, the most absolutely handsome of your school. So you said this to him, "don't tell anyone but I will but" you said strictly "but" Gilbert repeated. "It has to be a secret and I have to get to know you first" you told him making him smile but he quickly hides it "what do I say to the guys" Gilbert asked "tell them I said no" you replied.

#girlsdontlovework’s #gilbert blythe #x reader #gilbert blythe x reader #anne with an e #my giffs

[sleuth-draws]

LOVESICK (part 4) - Close to You < prev | next >

Vitani has been acting strange.

Well, she always acts strange; that's kind of her thing sometimes. But stranger than usual.

Kiara has noticed that her friend can't quite keep eye contact anymore, often darting away quickly. When Kiara comes close to nuzzle her, groom her, even just to chat, she's been insistent on keeping more distance than usual, scooching away with an awkward and very unsubtle clearing her throat. On top of that, she's being leaving the den at night more and more to pace and grumble. Vitani might think she's being discrete but Kiara knows her enough to be able to tell when something's wrong. She's started to worry that her dear friend has started to lose sleep.

She's more than familiar with the old Vitani -- the quiet broody lioness who most times couldn't stand to stick around the pride, more out of habit than preference. She's reminded now of that Vitani.

There's no one she's enjoyed seeing come out of her shell more than Vitani. Except Kovu, of course. But she loves getting Vitani to crack that crooked smile of hers, getting her to loosen up and see that there's no immediate threat to look out for anymore. Kiara never bore witness to the atrocities Scar inflicted upon the Pridelands but she thinks witnessing how her new friends have been affected by Zira's tyrannical reign is the closest thing to it. The lack of food, the lack of support, the lack of love. She can't imagine what that's like.

Kiara does realize her privileged position; she's the Princess of the Pridelands for gods' sake. She knows she could never come close to knowing what it's like to suffer this greatly or to feel the after-effects of cruelty. But it's all she can do to check in on those who have.

So when her training lets out at the first sign of sunset, she spares Kovu a halfhearted nuzzle before going off in search of Vitani as she always does.

She's not at the watering hole, nor the fields, nor in the shady spot where they play-fought just a few days ago.

Hm. The Guard must have finished late today.

Kiara heads back to the Rock to visit the lair and approaches just in time to see Vitani exit with Imara at her side. The two are speaking with hushed tones and standing rather close. Vitani ducks her head in laughter and Imara nuzzles her side.

A pit forms in Kiara's gut. Huh. She must be hungrier than she thought. Yeah. That must be it.

Before she knows it, she's trotting towards them, calling, "Hey, Vitani!"

Her friend perks up instantly, those big ears of hers at attention. She looks hesitant but smiles at her nonetheless. Kiara grins as she makes her way over.

Imara nudges Vitani with her shoulder almost smugly, before bidding her goodbye and offering a respectful nod in Kiara's direction just as she comes face-to-face.

"Hi," Kiara breathes, only a little winded from her hurried journey over.

"Hi," Vitani breathes back, though she doesn't look tired at all.

Kiara tilts her head at her tall friend. "How was patrolling today?"

"Eh, it was fine. Imara just left to report to your old man. Had to chase off some mangy rogue who thought he could flirt with me and the Guard. Unfortunately, he was stubborn enough to let things get violent."

"Ugh, he sounds awful."

"Oh, he was," Vitani barks out an amused laugh, "But I knocked him flat and he ran away scared."

"Ha! You sure showed him," Kiara chuckles, finding herself circling around Vitani. She does things like this sometimes, stalking around Vitani as if hunting -- and at one point, Kovu as well -- and she doesn't quite know why. At this point, she's reasoned it's simply a natural habit. "How lucky we are to have you to protect us." She leans in to brush their sides together, nuzzling her cheek to Vitani's. "I missed you, y'know."

Vitani tenses but that's never been atypical. Touch has always been something her friend found hard to get used. "Oh, I, uh --" She clears her throat, thrown off her game. "I-I missed you too." She shakes her head. "But you just saw me yesterday, Princess!"

"I can still miss you!"

A snort. "Yeah, right."

Kiara is about to shoot a retort back when her nose starts to itch and a loud sneeze interrupts her, startling them both.

"Yeegh," Kiara exclaims, shaking her head and licking her nose, "Vitani!"

"What?"

"There's so much dust in your fur! No doubt from that fight. You seriously need a bath."

Vitani bristles. "Ugh, no way." She shakes herself out, ears flapping almost aggressively. "Look, I'm totally fi--" When she takes a step forward, her foreleg buckles and she stumbles, catching herself with the other foreleg.

"Vitani!" Immediately, Kiara is moving in to assist her.

"I'm fine, Kiara." Vitani grits. "It's just a sprain, nothin' I can't handle."

Kiara looks back towards the fields. Her mother won't be back with food a little while. "Come follow me."

"But --"

"Don't argue with me. Come on." Kiara headbutts Vitani's shoulder and though Vitani grumbles the whole way, they walk up Pride Rock together. There, several lionesses are resting out at the entrance of the den, grooming themselves and each other and sunbathing while they still have a sun to bathe in.

There's a round of greetings when the pair ascend, including Tiifu, Zuri and, surprisingly, Kasi, who are dozing in a pile together. Vitani stares as they pass; Kasi looks away in slight embarrassment.

They find a spot somewhere nearby, still warm from the sun, and Kiara gives a look that makes Vitani sigh loudly and plop down. Kiara settles in beside her.

"Hmph, good. Now..." Kiara leans in and starts grooming the fur on Vitani's neck; immediately Vitani jerks away. "Oh, come on, Vitani."

"I-I-I really think I can do this myself!" Vitani stutters.

"Don't be ridiculous," Kiara huffs. "You couldn't reach that neck of yours if you tried!" She leans in again and when Vitani dodges once more, she reaches with both paws to ensnare her head and hold it securely to her. Vitani struggles but doesn't go so far as to kick at her with her hind legs -- a great sign. "Ha. Good girl."

Vitani goes ramrod straight. Kiara pays her no mind and starts to groom the tuft on her head. Slowly, her friend starts to relax, though she maintains the tension in her shoulders, claws digging into the dirt. Eventually, that too leaves her, pressure rolling off her shoulders till even her claws, trained to be out at all times in attack position, start to sheathe themselves. She breathes a sigh and closes her eyes.

Delight fills Kiara's chest. There's something precious about this. Being able to just lie here in peace with someone once considered her enemy and relax together. To see her realize there's nothing to fear, at long last. Vitani has been scared for so long. She might not like to admit, but Kiara knows. Kovu has told her the hardships they all had to face at Zira's paws, Vitani in particular. He'd been blind to it, at first, giving in to Zira's hate-filled rhetoric and training. But the months after the war had allowed the siblings to open up to one another, where they'd previously been emotionally standoffish.

Vitani was the one keeping their family together. Her closeness to their older brother as both of Zira's neglected children and her admittedly enforced love for Kovu was bridged by her need to do right by her mother. She amplified the admiration for her younger brother among the Outsiders, she kept her older brother in line, and, greatest of all, she was the perfect soldier. Savage and wild and bloodthirsty, eager to fight and, lucky for Zira, eager to please. Because, however small, that was the closest she would get to actual love from Zira.

A transactional, militaristic relationship.

And when at last she defied her mother, she was quickly cast aside.

Where Vitani had loved Kovu superficially, as taught by Zira, there was also the real love of being the only sibling who truly cared for him. They're twins, after all, as easy it is to forget, uniquely linked. That love was smaller, unfostered, buried away, but it was there. Her betraying Zira was what made Kovu realize there was more that needed to be talked about. How could they leave things the way they were? After they'd lost their only mother and Nuka, after not even knowing their supposedly shared father, how could they go on not truly knowing one another?

The months of healing did them well. While Vitani had been reclusive at first, there were times where she was seen with Kovu and she looked truly happy. Now, they're closer than they'd ever been, and Kovu happily recounts their visits together to Kiara.

It makes Kiara wonder: does Vitani fear being cast out again? Is that why she's been so aloof? Is she afraid that the peace is delicate, that it'll all fall apart one day and her value will be reduced to nothing once again?

Kiara will do anything to keep her from feeling that way.

An easy rumble in Vitani's throat draws her from her thoughts. She's nearly clean now, her usually unruly tuft smoothed into a funny-looking cowlick, but Kiara is reluctant to let her go.

"Something's been bugging you lately, hasn't it?"

Vitani's eyes open and, regrettably, a small amount of tension comes back to her. She's quiet for a long time, as if calculating her response.

"It's nothing you gotta worry about, Princess. I'll be fine."

Perfectly calculated, in fact. Something that says she shouldn't press or pry, even jokingly. Something Vitani wants to sort out herself. And as much as Kiara wants to help with this, to get her sleep and ease again, she has to respect it.

"Okay," Kiara settles on, "But if you want to talk, or need help in any way, you know I'm here for you, right? I always will be."

Vitani tilts her head and looks earnestly at her. Her violet eyes are soft, softer than she's ever seen them. A thumping erupts in Kiara's chest.

"Yeah. I know, Ki."

"I-I really care about you," Kiara finds herself blurting, "You're my best friend."

"What? But I thought Tiifu and Zuri were your best friends," Vitani says, surprised, "Or, Kovu? I can never keep track."

"No -- I mean, well, yes, they are -- but I can have multiple!" Kiara sputters, suddenly nervous and not knowing why. "The point is, I...I feel so close to you. I couldn't stand it if you were hurting a-and there was something I could do to help you."

The whole exchange gives Vitani pause and she's quiet for a long moment.

Then, miraculously, terrifically, magnificently, Vitani allows herself to nuzzle the side of her face into Kiara's chest.

"You're my best friend too, Kiara." Vitani smiles that lovely, crooked smile. "I...really care about you too."

It feels as though a storm cracks through her.

She's shaken, almost vibrating in her pelt. Her fur is warm, her mouth is dry -- what is this? She prays -- oh gods, she prays -- that Vitani can't hear her thunderous heartbeat. It would be awful of her to ruin this moment.

But what is it that's afflicted her?

And where did the air in her lungs go?

#the lion king #tlk #the lion king simba's pride #tlk2 #tlksp #tlg #the lion guard #kiara #vitani #kitani #art #fics #series #lovesick #post canon #canon compliant #furry #sapphic #lesbian #disney #simba

[laneydays]

you owe me, part 2 // billy showalter x reader

i dont rlly like this put here u go the long awaited part 2.

part 1 here

we're gonna IGNORE the fact that i was supposed to publish this like 5 days ago im so sorry for lying i had school and family stuff and guitar lmfao

anyways school is cancelled for the rest of the week cuz of a hurricane, i might start writing another oneshot ;) maybe vance? dont know! but i hope u guys like this, felt i couldve done better but eh :)

___________

after billy showalter had showed up by your house on his bike, your day was just a little brighter. he had really cared enough to go out of his way to deliver one more paper, just for you. he remembered, that you read the paper and kept it to make art or decorate your room with. even if reading the paper made you look like a total old man nerd, he went that extra mile for you. or in his case, a few blocks down from his route. the thought made you feel giddy and high.

you had came back in the house with a little more pep in your step, a stupid grin on your face that kept coming back whenever you looked at the flower pressing that you preserved on your dresser. the muscles in your face hurt from how good you felt. it was funny, to you. teachers would always say how one small thing a person can do can make another person's whole day. no one ever listened, including you. you thought it was bull, so it was amusing how the paper delivery boy proved you wrong. even if the flower seemed to shrivel slowly after a few hours, you couldn't help but think about it. billy showalter, of all people. he must be a goddamn saint if he can make me change my mind about him after a day, you thought. 

"holy shit," donna had blurted out from the phone when you told her. you had hushed her, even if no one was there to hear you besides your sleeping dog early in the morning.

"he totally likes you." she teased. you almost stumbled, clutching the phone in your hand a little tighter. "thats funny, donna. well, i don't like him," you scoffed.

you told her that to get her to leave you alone about it. (you doubted she would) but you would be lying if you said billy showalter didn't intrigue you with his actions toward you. nevertheless, you owed him big time. so, begrudgingly, on the monday before school, you emptied your piggy bank and counted the dollar bills and cents to pay billy back for everything he did. it was five bucks. you sighed, it was a decent amount of money to owe a boy. and it made you realize just how nice he was being to you.

you pocketed the money, getting ready to go to school. you jumped down the stairs, alerting your dog. they circled around your feet, barking and jumping excitedly. you rubbed their ears, talking to them in a high pitch.

your parents said your name, making you look up. "i thought we told you not to jump down the stairs. you'll break something," they instructed with a disappointed voice. your mother was at the table, and your father cleaning dishes at the sink. you winced slightly. "yeah, sorry."

you sat down at the table, eating the slightly burnt piece of toast your mother had set out for you. chewing on it, you watched your mother open up the paper as she sipped her coffee. you nearly choked, coughing. she was reading the paper.

she looked at you. "yeah, where did you get this? we don't get the paper," she asked. drinking your water, you tried clearing your throat before you replied. "yeah.. you know billy showalter delivers the paper, right?" you said slowly. your father chimed in, "of course. he stops by every sunday to get what we type up." your mother turned back to you, finishing for him. "but he doesn't stop by our house." 

you smiled sheepishly. "yeah. well, we're partners in class for a project. he stopped by yesterday because i told him i read the paper."

your dad looked over at you with a confused smile. "you read the paper?" he said, obviously making fun of you. your mother gave him a look before sipping her mug again. "how sweet. he's such a lovely boy. i'm glad you're becoming close," she said to you. "yes, it's about time you got a boyfriend," your father finished. you finished your toast, extremely flustered while your mother scolded him for assuming things.

you took a shy drink of water. "i have to go to his house later today. for the project." smiling, your mother held your hand. "good, that's good." 

"don't come back late," said your dad. you stood up, grabbing your backpack and slinging it over your shoulder. "yeah, don't worry." you kissed your mother on the cheek, and hugged your father goodbye. 

"be polite, and tell billy and mrs. showalter thank you," she said before you left. you agreed, closing the door. you took a breath, trying to console yourself and your embarrassment.

you walked to school. it was starting to get colder out, now. and you wished you had brought a thicker jacket. you spotted more kids walking as you got closer to school. you rubbed your arms, feeling the chill of the weather.

hearing your name being called, you turned around. gwen was jogging to catch up to you, finney following right behind her. "hey," you said to the small girl. "hi," finney finished for her, as she was catching her breath. you three walked together to school every day. it was a shame donna couldn't, her house was further away from yours. "kinda cold out, huh?" gwen said. you scoffed, "no kidding. wish i had brought a different covering."

as you got closer to school, you turned to the siblings. "i have to go to the library, i'll see you later nerds." gwen hugged you goodbye. "why the library?" finney asked. you turned away. "for a project. see you." they waved you goodbye as you entered through the double doors. there were less kids in the halls because you were a little early. 

you weren't lying to finney, you really did have to go to the library. you wanted to put effort into it the same way billy was, so you thought you'd find a book or two to help you with research.

upon entering, the library was pretty much empty. it was silent except for the pages being flipped by the librarian behind the counter. she muttered a 'good morning' under her breath as you walked in.

the isles were empty, but you saw a silhouette of a young boy. you searched through the books, in the history section. taking out many, reading the backs and then returning them to the shelf. you were impatient, and already becoming antsy. you wish you could just find a book already.

you turned the corner into the next isle, stopping when you saw the boy. it was griffin. he was reading a book, when he noticed you standing there and looked up. he was surprised to see you, you noticed. "hi, griffin," you said with a smile. "hi." he replied. you approached him, sitting next to him. "what are you reading?" griffin tilted the book so you could see the cover. it was the shining by stephen king. "stephen king? he wrote carrie. you like him?" he nodded at you. you were a bit shocked that a kid as young as him would be into that stuff. but he was smart, so it was probably okay.

"what are you doing here?" griffin asked you this time. he was right, you weren't usually in here. "i'm looking for a book. for a project."

"is it the one with billy?" he asked quickly. you almost stuttered, he was fast. you swallowed. "yeah. how'd you know?" you asked. griffin closed his book. "he told me." you smiled. "oh yeah? what else did he say?" you joked. the boy looked up at you. "he said you make him nervous sometimes."

you pressed your lips together tightly. a weird tight feeling in your stomach. "oh." griffin shook his head lightly, his curls bouncing. "but in a good way, he said. i don't know." the weird feeling was replaced by a new once, a weird kind of knot. you smiled sheepishly. 

"he likes you. you should be friends," the boy said. you looked away, trying to tame the heat in your face. "o-okay. i just need a book first," you laughed. griffin asked what type of book you needed. you told him what your project was about, and he got up enthusiastically, taking your hand and dragging you into an isle.

"this one," he said, taking out a book and holding it out to you. taking it gently from his hands, you read the back. it was great for your project. you looked back up at him, smiling. "this is perfect. thanks, griffin!" 

he smiled bashfully, his freckled cheeks rosy. you looked up at the clock, at the time. "the bells gonna ring in a minute," you looked at him. "want me to walk you to your first period?" griffin smiled wider. "okay. but its in the sixth grade hall," to which you replied that it was okay. you checked out your book, and the younger boy hung onto your hip the whole time. 

the bell had rung as you walked out the door with griffin, the book tucked into your backpack safely. griffins classroom was a little further than expected, but it was okay. you said goodbye to him and went back to yours. you kept thinking about him as you sat down, and how you really saw him as a little brother. it was a sweet feeling. 

the period was unfortunately very boring. you were learning about the layers of the earth, and honestly, you weren't really paying attention. you were just doodling all over your paper. until you felt a pinch in your back. you turned around to see robin arellano. "you free after school today?" he whispered. you shook your head. "no, i have to work on a project with billy showalter. sorry." robin's eyebrows furrowed, confused. "huh? showalter? for real?" you nodded, shrugging with a smile before turning back to your paper.

you continued drawing before a piece of wrapped gum dropped on your paper with a smiley face and an '-R' written on it messily. you turned around, blowing robin a joking kiss. he 'caught it' in the air, and held it to his chest. you held your hand to your mouth, trying to stop yourself from laughing as you unfolded the gum wrapper and placing it in your mouth. 

the bell rang, the class was over. you didn't listen to whatever your teacher was saying, and you just packed your stuff to leave, stopping by the door to wait for a slow robin. he caught up to you, and you walked together.

"so, you and billy?" he asked. he had a teasing look on his face. what was it with people joking about you and billy? "yeah, i have a project with him in civics." robin rolled his eyes, looking off. "just say you're going out with him. i've seen you giving him heart eyes across the lunchroom before." you turned to him swiftly, pushing him harshly. "shut up! i do not!" you growled, a furious heat in your cheeks.  robin held his hands up, trying to defend himself from your wrath as he giggled uncontrollably. 

you sighed angrily. "i'm serious, though... its just a project," you mumbled. robin flashed a smile. "sure, okay. i'll see you later." you were about to make him stay so you could keep defending yourself, but you just sighed once more as you watched robin head off to his next class. you would keep getting teased. and you would be lying if you said you didn't have a crush on billy showalter.

you sat down in your next class, trying console yourself. it's not like you liked him that much. maybe the reason you disliked him at first, was because you wanted an excuse. but it was hard, with his stupid smile and his stupid laugh, and his stupid hair and his stupid job. it was stupid. you were stupid. you hated having crushes.

the rest of your classes went by faster.  they mostly consisted of you laying your head on the desk and sleeping, and or ignoring anyone who tried to ask what was wrong with you. the only person you'd answer was donna.

"you're a mess," she shook her head. you peeked up at her. "no kidding." she sighed, slumping down next to you. "maybe you should just talk to him." sitting up straighter, you took a deep breath. "i will. when i see him." 

donna looked at you pitifully. she knew how much you hated these type of things. you looked back at her, reading her eyes and sighing. "don't look at me like that. i'll get over it, i always do." donna pushed your arm slightly. "but do you want to get over it? it's nice when someone likes you, yknow," she told you. you didn't reply, you only put your head in your hands and groaned.

lunch came quickly. you sat down with robin, finney, donna, and gwen, chewing on an orange slice. they were talking about whatever while you zoned off, thinking about the upcoming week and your assignments. until there were fingers snapping in front of your face. you looked up to robin leaning toward you and snapping from across the table. you smacked his hand down with a growl. he sat back with a grin. "stop daydreaming about your boyfriend," he giggled. your eyebrows furrowed and you stood up in your seat, your hands placed firmly on the table. leaning forward, you gave robin a mouthful. "he is not my boyfriend!" you exclaimed with a heated face. finney and gwen looked at you both with puzzled expressions, while donna seemed concerned.

"leave them alone, robin," she whispered. taming your outburst, you looked away shamefully. you saw griffin and billy sitting with each other. and bruce yamada, was his name? sat with them, too.

"wait, you have a boyfriend?" gwen said dumbly. you sighed with a dry chuckle. "no. it's a long story." gwen and finney looked at each other before the curly haired boy shrugged. he looked at you again. "is it billy?" he questioned innocently. you shut your eyes tightly. "ugh," you groaned, and that told the siblings what they needed to know. 

you felt the dread set in your stomach as you walked to your period after lunch. it was funny to you how people described getting butterflies as a cute fluttery feeling. you didn't get those. it was more like fuzzy worms crawling inside your organs. both of them still came from the same thing however; and it was liking someone. the someone that happens to be out of your league, and the someone you completely denied your feelings for a few days ago. you huffed, you weren't gonna be a pussy about it.

you sat down in your seat, watching as students piled in after you. you didn't care, until billy walked in. your chest tightened a little and you watched him sit down in his seat, his hair framing his face perfectly. he looked back, and caught your eye. he gave you a comforting smile, and your heart squeezed, giving him a simple wave back.  

no! don't let him seduce you with his attractive antics! you furiously told yourself, placing your fuming head in your hands.

everyone was seated, your teacher beginning to speak. "settle down. settle down," she projected. people got quieter.

she interlaced her hands together. "alright, this period will be dedicated to working on your project. i will pass out a paper to fill in information, but remember it will have to be put on a project board. you may use your notes for it aswell," your classmates got louder once again. she cleared her throat angrily. "don't think this is a free period. i will be watching you and making sure you're actually working," she snapped. they muttered words under their breath.

"thank you. now, you may join with your partner while i pass out the paper."

everyone stood up, giggling and gossiping. you pushed your chair back dramatically, making your way to billy. you made eye contact, but you immediately looked away as you sat next to him. "hey," he greeted. "hi," you replied.

he coughed awkwardly when your teacher came to you, giving you one paper. you looked up at her confusedly. "don't we need another?" she nearly rolled her eyes at you. "we're sharing," she sighed. you slumped down in your seat slightly at her annoyed tone as she walked away. 

billy looked at you again. "so, do you have any ideas?" he asked. he wanted to get you talking. he wanted you to talk to him, and hear your voice.

you perked up. "yeah! i do. i actually went to the library this morning because it felt like you were doing all the work, and you're probably smarter than me and i wanted to carry my own weight, y'know? so i got a book," you rambled, taking out the hardcover book. you mentally pinched yourself at what you said. sometimes billy made you want to talk ten times more or never talk again. the latter seemed more appealing when you looked up to see an embarrassed look on his face, his cheeks flushed. 

"i-i'm sorry," you stuttered. "i didn't mean-" you cleared your throat. just stop talking, you screamed internally.

"you're smart, too," billy mumbled. you almost crumpled the paper from how tight you gripped it. you laughed nervously, averting your eyes to the paper. you tapped your pen anxiously on the table, extremely aware of the noise it made. "so, do you still want me to come over after school? to study, i mean. you got the supplies, right?" billy nodded at you. "yeah, i did. my mom freaked out i was having a friend over."

you stopped tapping the pen. "oh, was she not expecting it? sorry," you fretted. billy shook his head. "no, no." he looked away bashfully. "it's just, erm. she- uh," the boy stuttered. he cleared his throat when he saw you blink. "nevermind," he muttered. 

it took a lot in you not to laugh at his embarrassment. and billy recalled the conversation he had the previous morning with his mother, and it made him even more embarrassed.

he had just gotten back from delivering papers, feeling extra good about the gratitude he saw on your face. his dog barged in before him, alerting his mother standing by the coffee maker.

"what took you so long?" she tapped the counter suspiciously. billy hung up his bright jacket on the hook by the door. "i delivered an extra," he replied. his mother sighed. "you know you're supposed to stick to your route, billy."

he shrugged, sliding into a chair at the table. "it was just someone from school.." he said shyly. unbeknownst to him, the woman felt a knowing switch in her mind. 

"and i hope you don't mind them coming over after school. we have a project together," he stated innocently. she folded her arms, a grin on her face. "are you two dating?" 

billy choked. "mom! no, i- they're just-" he stumbled over his words angrily, a furious flush on his face. he stood up, stomping upstairs to his room while his mother giggled. 

he shook his head back into the present. "let's just work on this," he sighed loudly. you grinned at him warmly.

the class period consisted of billy doing most of the talking. he was really serious about school. you would add on your own knowledge and he would smile excitedly and scribble it down on the note paper. it made the wormy feeling in your stomach disappear. maybe the worms actually turned into butterflies.

eventually you took out the book you had checked out after you two went through all of the notes. you opened it up to the table of contents, sliding it over between you two and letting billy read the contents. you pointed your finger at a chapter, "i thought this one had a lot of good information." he nodded, flipping the paper to the right page number and leaning towards you to read what was inside. you held your breath as you saw the details of his face, the curl of his eyelashes. he looked up at you again to find you were already staring, and he swallowed, leaning back after he saw your face close to his. 

you checked your watch awkwardly. "it's almost time to go. we can finish the notes at your house, yeah?" you asked. billy agreed. "yeah."

the teacher tried to tell everyone goodbye, but without success. the bell rung and everyone bolted. you waited for billy by the door as he got his stuff, and you two walked out together. 

the halls were crowded, you and billy pressed shoulder to shoulder to get through without running into someone. you felt a sharp tug at the back of your hood, making you step backwards and grab billy's shoulder for balance, making him stop as well. 

you turned around to see robin with a shit-eating grin on his face, looking from you to billy and back to you. huffing, you fixed your hood. "you scared the shit out of me. come on, you're crowding the halls," you snapped, taking robins hand and dragging him forward next to you and billy as you kept walking. the bandana wearing boy couldn't help but giggle at you two, and you almost pushed him into the wall telling him to shut up.

you made it out of the school, turning to robin. "fuck you," you said bluntly. he held a hand to his heart, "you make me blush." you sighed. "you make me blush too, unfortunately. tell finney and gwen i'll see them tomorrow, i'm going with billy for the project."

robin winked at you. "right, the project." you held back an angry remark, holding your breath instead and grabbing billy. "let's go.." you muttered. the blonde smiled awkwardly as he led you to the bike rack by the school. 

you stopped as you watched him put in the lock combination for the bike. he held the handlebars. "wait, i don't have a bike," you said quickly. billy hesitated. "oh, right."

he thought for a moment. "you can ride on the back. just.. hold on," he told you, swinging his leg over. you nodded slowly, stepping over and sitting down, holding onto the sides of the bike. to say this was a very awkward situation was a huge understatement. nevertheless, billy pushed onto the pedals, harder because of your extra weight. he tried very hard to not show how weird he felt in the moment. he had scooted forward so you had room to sit, but it was tight, and you were nearly pressed against his back. he didn't know if it was the sun but he felt incredibly warm in the moment.

he must have ridden over a tree root, because you both felt a bump, and you reached forward on instinct and clutched billy's shoulder so you wouldn't fall over. "sorry," you breathed onto his back. "it's fine," he said. no, it wasn't fine, he almost crashed the bike but it was okay, he didn't want you to fall.

finally, you arrived at his house. you stared up in awe at it, the front door a pretty blue color. you finally jumped off the bike, billy kicking the kickstand down by his garage. "sorry if my mom is weird," billy told you, unlocking the front door with the key in his pocket. 

he opened it, and you walked in. the inside was even prettier. you knew billy lived in a pretty white kid home, but it was still nice. until you heard barking, and saw a golden blur and felt a pressure on your chest. you were on the ground now, a golden heap of fur between your legs and barking at you. now winded, billy's dog began to lick your fingers. 

he immediately grabbed it, yelling "no," or "bad dog." you held yourself up with your hands. billy turned to you after calming his pet down, rushing to help you up and rambling nervously. "are you okay?" "i'm so sorry," "are you hurt?" he helped you up on your feet, and you patted his shoulder reassuringly. "i'm okay, don't worry." he sighed. 

"who's this?" a voice said. you turned your head, to see a woman with a striking resemblance to the boy next to you. puffy blonde hair, with pink lips and glittery blue eyeshadow. you smiled. "hi, i'm billy's friend. i came to work on a project with him, i hope you don't mind." the woman smiled, flashing her pearly white teeth. "oh, yes! billy told me about you, it's so nice to meet you!" she gushed, grabbing your hand and clasping it between her red nail painted hands. 

"would you like anything to eat, or drink?" she asked cheerfully. you shook your head. "i'm okay. thank you, ms. showalter." 

she smiled. "of course. you two hurry on up and get your work done," she ushered. you and billy looked at each other. he pointed to the stairs.

you sat down on a chair in his room, spinning and admiring the interior. the habitat of billy showalter. he had a few posters up, and a messily made bed. "cool room," you said. he sat down on his bed, opening his notes. "thanks. i have the poster board over there, so we can start working on it now," he got straight to the point. you sighed, throwing you head back as you spun. "oh, right," you groaned. 

billy stopped for a moment, watching you spin around endlessly, and then back to the binder in his hands. he looked back up. "we don't have to do this, you know." 

you stopped spinning, feeling dizzy as you turned to him. "i thought you wanted to?" you asked, confused. he sighed. "you think i actually like doing schoolwork?" you bounced your leg. "yeah, you're like, the grade golden boy," you stated, waving your hand around. billy shrugged. "i'm still a teenager."

you watched him as he put the binder back in his backpack. "then what did i come here for?" ouch. did you not want to be here? billy inhaled. "we could do teenager stuff?" 

"i don't do drugs!" you said frantically. billy stuttered in shock. "i don't either! i meant like, cards or something!" 

you blinked. oh, that was embarrassing. you couldn't ever see billy doing that stuff either. "okay, okay, good. keep being golden."

speaking of golden, billy's dog burst through the door, trotting laps around you and the boy excitedly. you ran your hands through its thick fur, it turned around to sniff and invade your personal space in reply. you laughed, it tickling your ears with its breath. "what's the name?" you asked. billy watched you carefully. he was glad you liked dogs. "cooper." you rubbed cooper's ears, staring into his big black eyes. "he's cute."

he watched you, his heart swelling. he was really, really glad you liked dogs. 

"so, you got a girlfriend?" you asked out of the blue. you were actually curious. not that you would be jealous or anything. he just looked at you, a furrow in his brow. "what? no." you looked at him in return. "a boyfriend..?" billy shook his head furiously. "i don't have anyone." you gave him an 'oh' face. he hesitated, looking away. "do you?" 

you set your hands in your lap, cooper licking your fingers. "no, i don't. do you like anyone?"

"maybe," he replied. "what about you?"

you broke eye contact sheepishly. "maybe." 

it was quiet for a few moments, neither of you looking at each other. you coughed. "so, what about those cards?" billy got up from his bed, you on the floor. he got the pack of cards from his bedside and sat down on the floor directly in front of you. "you know how to play uno?" you squinted. you had seen them in the grab 'n go, but you never cared to buy them. "no." 

he smiled at you. that god awful, perfect smile that made you want to crush him. "cool, i'll teach you then." 

he distributed the cards between you, each getting seven. you had grinned idiotically while you watched him struggle to shuffle the cards. 

"okay, so basically, you have to match the card to the one the other person puts down. so if i put down a green 8, you have to put down a green card or an 8. but there are also special cards, and they can make the other person draw more cards, or skip them. but the objective is to get rid of all your cards. you get rid of them, you win. got it?" he looked up at you from his eyelashes. you nodded. he explained it well. "okay."

he set down his card. a red 4. you looked through your cards, making sure he didn't see any as you set down a red card. he set down his, and it kept going between you. either of you would put down a plus two or plus four and the other would groan dramatically, the other laughing. billy won, eventually. so you played again, over and over. and billy beat you every time.

"you've gotta be cheating," you huffed. you were a sore loser. he squinted. "beginners.. misfortune?" he said questionably. you threw your cards up. "man, thats not even a thing, you just wanna make me feel better." he chuckled at you. "yeah." billy scratched cooper's chin. he sat next to both of you the entire time, wagging his tail when either of you got excited. 

you were interrupted when billy's mom called you and him from downstairs. "i made dinner!" she sang. you checked your watch. "ah, i didn't realize it was that time."

billy and you headed downstairs. you smelt the food she prepared, and it smelt good. "thank you for dinner, mrs. showalter. i hope you don't mind." she set down the hot plates on the table, your silverware already out and ready. "of course not! billy's father is coming home late because of work, so i really appreciate the company. and billy does, too," she winked at you, making your cheeks warm. you sat down at the table, billy across from you next to his mom. she instructed you to eat, and you started. it was delicious, noodles and cheese and bacon bits sprinkled on the top. good thing you remembered your table manners, or else you would have wolfed the whole thing down.

"so, you two. how's the project going on?" she asked you. you stopped eating for a moment, looking at billy who was already looking at you. you tried to hold back a smile. "it's, uh, going good. we have the notes ready." 

she nodded. "that's good." it was silent after that, just the sound of the forks on the plate as you ate. you looked at billy again, who was trying to hide his smile as well. you decided not to tell her that you two were just playing cards the whole time.

you all finished up, bringing your plates to the sink to wash them. "billy, would you take out the trash, please?" his mother asked over her shoulder. he nodded, pulling the trash bag out of the trashcan and leaving your view. mrs. showalter stood next to you, drying the plates you cleaned. "so, are you two dating?" she asked innocently. 

heat bloomed in your cheeks, and you scrubbed a little harder. "aha, no, it's not like that, we're just friends." whether you were trying to convince her or yourself, it didn't work. she sighed. "denial, denial. from a mother, i see how my boy looks at you. and i see how you look at him. look a little harder, okay?" she murmured sweetly. you handed her the last plate. you hated it, but she was right. 

billy came back, and told you it was getting late. almost 7:00. you went upstairs to retrieve your stuff to go home. 

you had to say something to him now. "i never got to thank you, by the way. for the newspaper," you said slowly, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. billy was sat on his bed.

he shrugged. "it's no big deal."

you sat down next to him, looking away and fiddling with your fingers. "no, it is. i don't know why you did it. but thank you."

thats why billy did it. he would never admit, but he was a sucker for praise. hearing it coming from you felt ten times better. he could have kissed you, if you were looking at him.

"you're welcome," he whispered. 

you turned to face him. his heart was beating, and he wouldn't be surprised if you could hear it. the air felt thicker and heavier than it did a minute ago, as he stared at your face, which seemed to get closer the more he looked.

his eyes were so pretty, and so brown. his skin seemed glowier than it did in school. 

you looked away again, trying to steady your breath. "christ, showalter." 

billy frowned. "what is it?"

you ran your fingers through your hair. "i don't even know. you make me feel things i don't want to," you huffed. billy's chest squeezed. reluctantly, he touched his pinkie to your hand next to his. you flinched slightly, but interlocked pinkies with the boy. a simple, innocent gesture that made you feel fuzzy. 

you inhaled sharply. "i should go home now," you said quietly.

billy stood up, holding his hand out for you to take it. fighting a smile, you slid your hand in his and got up.

"you're free to come any time," mrs. showalter said gently. "it's our pleasure having you here," she winked. you grinned faintly, thanking her for her hospitality.

"i'll walk you home," billy volunteered. you furrowed your brow, "are you sure? i know its-"

"no, i want to walk you," he insisted. you nodded, smiling at him. "okay."

he pushed the door open for you. the sun was down, the sky a beautiful mix of purple and orange. you walked silently, side by side with the delivery boy, your hands interlocked. 

you didn't want to hide your feelings from him anymore. when you did, you felt that wormy feeling. but when you were with billy, it wasn't there. mrs showalter was right, he did look at you. he saw you. he saw the way your hair rounded over your head, the curve of your brow and the dip in your nose. he saw the way you looked away when you got shy, and the way you fidgeted and held your fingers, and the way you would flinch ever so slightly when he made contact with you. and he loved every part of it.

you saw billy, not just in the halls, or on the streets. you saw the corner of his lips twitching upward into a smile, the scars on his palms, the golden glow of his brown eyes. and you were attracted to him.

your house got closer, the slightly scratched up door in your line of sight as you walked beside billy on the sidewalk.

just say it.

you breathed. "i think i like you, billy." 

both of you kept walking. you didn't hear the quickened pace of his heartbeat, or see the growing hotness in his cheeks, or feel the slight sweatiness of his palms.

"i think i like you, too."

you stopped, your front door not even 15 yards away now. you turned to him, slowly. he looked at you, from the corner of his eye. you gave him a closed-mouth smile, to which he smiled back instinctively. a pure, genuine smile. both of you laughed slightly, your hands still interlocked. 

you felt weird now, like you had just taken multiple shots of pure caffeine. but you stayed in place, your knees threatening to give way as you and billy showalter stared at each other.

you slipped a hand into your pocket. "right, i, uh. i wanted to pay you back for, everything. i owed you," you told him awkwardly, holding out the crumpled dollar bills. he frowned at you, asking if you were sure, that it was really okay and you didn't have to pay him. 

you shook your head. "no, i want to. let me do this." you flipped his hand over, sliding the money in his hand. "so we're even now." 

he closed his hand around the money, a smile growing on his face. "yeah, we are." 

you averted your eyes bashfully, looking to the ground. his converse were almost touching yours, by an inch. you stepped back, a sweet, nervous look on your face.

"i'll see you, then?" you said unsteadily, backing towards your house.

billy nodded, shuffling his feet. "yeah. you bet." 

you grinned, your fingers wrapping around your doorknob. "okay. bye, billy." 

he raised his hand in response, watching you close the door, and standing there for a second before turning around and making way back to his house. all with a stupid smile on his face.

you stood behind the door for a while, rubbing your eyes and your warm cheeks. it felt like a dream. a really good dream.

you ran immediately to your room, ignoring the yelps of your dog and your parents greeting as you dialed donna's number with shaky hands.

you liked billy showalter, a lot.

_________

#the black phone 2022 #the black phone #the black phone x reader #the black phone headcanons #the black phone x you #black phone #paperboy the black phone #paperboy #billy showalter #billy showalter x reader #bruce yamada #bruce yamada x reader #finney blake #finney blake x reader #vance hopper x reader #vance hopper #vance the black phone #gwen blake #robin arellano #robin arellano x reader #griffin stagg #tbp x reader #tbp bruce

[ceexb]

More than capable

///——///——///——///———///———//——-:/——///—-

Warnings: a bit of stereotypes,sexism,cussing violence 😭 reader and ghost bickering like siblings,caring soap getting put in the middle of it.mentions of periods she/her used,cramps and choosing sides.

Parings: Fem reader x soap x ghost (not a ship)

Words: 812 words 4,691 characters

Summary:soap tries to comfort you through your period ,but to your surprise you have a visitor.

A/n: my first cod fic ,be nice.oh and

blue-reader

soap-green

ghost-purple

///——///——///——///———///———//——-:/——///—-

You were groaning into your pillow, soaps rough calloused hands rubbing repetitive circles in your back.attempting to soothe you,like an adventurer pacifying a flame breathing dragon.you both heard two sharp, stern knocks at the door.Heads cocking to look in the direction of it,wondering who was knocking around this time.Soap jumped to his feet. His boots stomping the floor as he opened the door a small bit. "Hello?" “What’s he doing here?!!”you say in a bitter tone ,staring deadly” “He’s just here to pay his cost and say hi”. “Isn’t that right ghost?”

Ghost simply raised an eyebrow,face scrunching and tone mixed with irritation & amusement.Then abruptly saying “Affirmative” in a gruff tone. “Although do you mind soap ? I urgently need to speak with you…privately.”

“Cant it wait ?”

“It’s about tonight’s mission”

The two men began talking,you now long forgotten and ignored,your blood started to boil.”Are you fucking SERIOUS ?! Did you not just see us in the middle of something !” Their conversation continued completely ignoring your presence,their voices going a bit muffled behind the door.You caught onto a few words of what ghost said.“She’ll be okay you know women are a bit cranky during that time of month”Both soap and ghost looking over at you.The bed squeaked as you sat up on both forearms to get a better look while sticking up the middle finger.Ghost spoke while smiling at you’re gesture “Well that’s very friendly.Is this how you treat other soldiers who are higher in rank than you ?“You just rolled your eyes in response.And just like that.they went back to talking.you have up stood up from the bed walking to the door where they were standing. “Dick heads”. “We might just have to leave her behind” you overheard soap say. “I’m not incapable soap” “And as for you ghost …”. your head turnt to the side,in hopes he’d hear between the half opened door “you’re a fucking dick bag,this is my mission too.”

“Honestly fuck you both.don’t leave me out of this conversation like I’m some toddler not able to sit at the big kids table.”I’m a trained soldier you knuckle heads..I’ve went through way worse …I can handle a mission while bleeding out of my fucking …..” your words were cut short by Soaps hand silencing you.

“Oh..my..lass!” “Quite the fiesty type she is eh soap ?” “Is she always a pain in the ass? or only when she’s menstruating?”

Your muscles tensed in preparation to pounce, ready to attack. Your hand twitched,but before you could launch your assault,Soap's large hand rested on your shoulder, holding you back.You glared at Simon, watching his annoying grin spread wider.Soap's grip on you tightened, and he whispered in your ear, "Control yourself."

“Look I know you wanna come,but you need to stay back on base and rest up “

“I don’t need you to baby me Johnny”

“I’m not babying you I’m just looking out …”

“I’m not a child …!” You yelled, a bit too loud.your voice echoing through out the barracks dorm hall.Causing two soldiers walking down the hall to look back.And another one opening their dorm door,nosily peeking out. You start to get embarrassed. As you cause a scene in the hall only in your basket ball shorts,hair messy in mismatched socks stained tee with words no longer visible forming a incomplete word.Soap, with his hands still firmly planted in his pockets, stood in the desolate hallway, his expression stiff and his eyes fixed on Ghost. The silence was almost palpable, as if it were a wall between them.you mustered up the courage to break the silence, you finally spoke up. "I'll go grab my things." Your voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

"And keep your Chihuahua in check," ghost added You were baffled by his last sudden outburst, you respond,yelling “watch your fucking mouth Simon”. "You first," he said simply, his voice as cool and calm as ever. Soap stood there for a moment, his expression becoming more relaxed as the tension in the air seemed to lift,once ghost was no longer in the corridor hall.

"Let's go grab your things."

///——///——///——///———///———//——-:/——///—-

A/n:i don’t even if this classifies as a Drabble anymore.and feedback ?

#ghost cod #soap call of duty #therealcees blog #soap mctavish #black fanfic writer #black writers #black girls of tumblr #simon riley #task 141 #fanfic #the realcees

[floralembarrassment]

Hi <3

Hope you're good

Can you write something about Party? (Peter and Barty). I heard about this ship once but I haven't seen any of them on tumblr yet, so if you could do something with them that would be great.

Hi there! The only Party I've ever heard is from the one and only Salem on tiktok!! Go follow them, he does a great Sirius & Barty! @prongsieboi

To be honest with you though I just don't know Peter as a character well enough I don't think... Now that I think of it, I don't actually think I ever write him. But we can try, though I always encourage people writing their own too! If there is content you want but cant find create it!

What Do You Want (1/1) (Party)

"Bartemius!" Peter yelled across the grassy field.

Barty turned and saw the short plumb boy stomping is away toward him, eyes sharp like was ready to fight. Barty smirked at him, scoffing a laugh as his cheeky grin spread across his face to match the glint now sparkling in his eye.

Peter marched right up to Barty, looked over at Evan and Regulus who had been standing near by. With a raise of his eyebrows and pursed lips, the other two Slytherins took the hint to leave. Barty waved them off, though Regulus would swear he was just shooed away.

"Well well well Pettigrew," Barty teased, taking a few steps forward, walking around Peter, circling him like a hawk. He raised his hand and ran a finger over his cheek, "to what do I owe the pleasure?" Barty added.

Barty's touch on Peter's skin sent shivers down his spine. From a far it might look like taunting and Peter quickly cowering in response. This was a believable tale for any onlookers, but the two boys knew they were playing at the insatiable feral energy between them.

Peter took a deep breath and pushed Barty's hand away. "I'm not here to play Crouch," Peter huffed.

This only fueled Barty's charming sneer. "Oh ho ho, so all of sudden you don't want to play now eh? Come on Peter, I know you love our little games," he said leaning in to whisper that last into his ear.

"Barty!" Peter warned.

"Okay okay little mouse, don't get yourself caught in a trap," Barty said holding his hands up in surrender.

"Ugggg" Peter groaned, rolling his eyes. He grabbed Barty's hand, turned, and started dragging him up the hill towards an alcove in the Castle gardens.

Peter flung Barty against the wall.

"Hey you don't have to be so rough you know," Barty pout as he fell onto the window ledge.

"I beg to differ, you never listen to me," Peter said stepping in between Barty's legs.

Barty placed his hand on Peter's head; "On your knees then babygirl," Barty said, but he couldn't contain the laugh that spilled out at his own words. Peter smiled infected so easily by Barty's simultaneously smooth but obnoxious laugh.

When Barty pulled it together, he placed his hands on Peter's waist. "What's up, really? Just miss me? Hmm?" Barty asked looking deeply into Peter's dark eyes.

"Obviously," Peter said, letting his head roll back to look up at the stone ceiling, like he was desperate to want anything else but Barty.

Barty grinned.

"Look, I umm... I..." Peter started to stammer, and averted his eyes, favouring his shoes over any part of Barty now.

"Hey no no, where did all your spunk go?" Barty said, gently rubbing his hands up and down Peter's shoulders.

Peter sighed, and looked up finding Barty's eyes. "Do you want to go to Hogsmead me with this weekend?" Peter finally rushed out.

Barty didn't know he could smile wider. "It would be mine honour, Mr. Pettigrew," Barty said.

Peter smiled, and as they looked at each other grinning like the teenagers they were, Barty leaned in, pressing his forehead to Peter's.

"If you're good, maybe I'll let you hold my hand again," Peter said, finding his attitude again and slowly backed away, leaving Barty sufficiently teased and wanting wanting wanting more.

#did i know i had an asks box? no #party #what is this ask #what is this ship #why was it so fun #kick your little feet alright #marauders #fanfic #lgbtq+ #marauders era #barty crouch jr #peter pettigrew #slytherin skittles #barty x peter #marauders fandom

[spotsupstuff]

What was capers realization he had feelings for his technician like? Was he confused trying to figure out what the feeling was since I imagine love and romance aren't very widely discussed amongst ancients of higher circles. If so how did he end up finding a word for the feeling? Was it just going through historical records? Old poetry? Accidentally stumbling upon a very cheesy romance novel?

And what was his reaction to finally figuring it out?

well he didn't actually figure it out proper until later! you can see that in the post about him "asking Sparrows out" (i'm still not over that wording)

first they got to a point of being good friends, which happened thanks to Sparrows being so fucking.. nonchalant about everything. she's super awkward around people like her, but thanks to Boreas' bullshit she feels pretty safe with the tincans (funnily enough). from there Euros was like "Man, i want... more. i want to more. i just wanna give her more and i'd like more in return but how would...." n he came to the conclusion that what he wants is some sort of mutual worship of each other (he knew about romance from his research, yeah, but that is always looked down upon up there even though it shows up in movies so he thought that he's feeling something else. something inherently good.)

which yeah! weird! but he Is prayed to by the citizens of Ales and he views the worship as a sort of high adoration/love. it doesn't show with his interactions with Sparrows, but he does have a lil bit of a god complex. being in a relationship with Sparrows rids him of it though

so anyway, as in that post, he proposes with That. Sparrows is like "holy Shit. oh my Fuck. what the frrfrfgrgfgh???" but she's a reasonable kind woman so instead of flat out rejection she asks him to talk about it with her before coming to a decision

they talk for like an hour or so. just kind of explaining what's going on within themselves- especially Euros does his best to explain what's going on in that Hivemind of his. then Sparrows vibe checks it with "bro nah, that's romance you are describing here. like romantic love???" "but romantic love is wrong. i don't feel in the wrong, so it has to be something else." "yea, that's because the first statement is a bullshit" "huh."

so Spars has to explain That, using her parents as an example of romantic love not being wrong in the slightest and admitting that before she went to school she had a few crushes and hoped that one day she'd settle down n have lil bitlets and all that- and none of that is wrong! so Euros has a crisis for a sec about That n has to ponder it for a bit. so Sparrows sits down comfortably and waits for him to come to a conclusion while tryin to figure out for herself if she wants to get together with a "godly" supercomputer (loaded definition, insert all the rain trauma here) n settles for "eh, why not. we'll see how it turns out. worst case scenario we break up n go back to normal. might be a neat experience to learn from i guess"

n then Euros comes back to his puppet and just goes

"WHATTTTTTTTTT THE HELL, YOU HAVE A POINT I AM IN THE ROMANCE???????" n Sparrows replies with a laughing fit

n then they shake their hands on being boyfriend and girlfriend as if they just made a deal

#spot says stuff #rw #oc tag #''so with the worship thing i just thought id get to sing you a lot of praises daily but if we are in romance and you are my girlfriend...- #-does that....... mean i get to cuddle?????? you????????????'' ''-puts her hand up in a calming gesture- Eventually. Not Yet.'' ''awgh''

[punks-never-die205]

Souled Out

Fem Reader x Demon!Eustass Kid

CW: Blood, religious tones, original creation myth, ritual, violence, dubious consent, 18+

Chapter 2: Soul Stipulation

The demon’s eyes go wide at your declaration, and when it peers at you again, it feels like it’s trying to peer into you. The intensity of the gaze tickles the edges of your discomfort, but it’s not bad.

“Huh, it really is mostly gone. There’s bits and pieces hanging onto you, I guess that’s how you were able to survive.” It muses. “So you want me to help you find your soul, just so you can give it to me in payment?”

You nod. “If someone other than me is going to have my soul, I’d rather decide who gets it. I don’t like that it’s gone without my say.” You answer.

“Hmm…” Its eyes go half-lidded, a bemused smirk on its face. “The more you chirp little bird, the more I’m interested. Okay, is your blood offer all there is in our deal?”

“I know I included my body in the payment, and I’m not going to try and rescind that, but I do have a request regarding it.”

“If you say something ridiculous like ‘no sex’ to someone like me, I’ll tear this circle apart and drag you to the depths with me.” It promises testily, dark scales shivering over the smooth marble skin again.

“No, I don’t care about that. Even when I had my soul, I had no hang ups about casual sex, my request is that you don’t break or scar my body until we get my soul back.”

“Eh? You want me to be gentle for an indeterminate amount of time?” Its face crinkles, but you shake your head.

“I’m not saying you can’t hurt me; I’m saying that I don’t want new scars or broken bones. Even if it’s just for a moment, I want my soul and my body back exactly how they were before my soul was stolen.” You explain. “After that you can tear me apart if that’s what you want.”

“Mmm, I can accept that.” It agrees. “I have a couple stipulations of my own.”

“I… alright, what are they?” Frankly you had expected a demon would simply do as it pleased. That it would, instead, be making a list of things like a true contract, caught you off guard a little. Though, it made sense, according to the lore demons lived and died by contracts.

You had simply assumed that part of the lore was nothing more than a way for humans to fool themselves into trusting a demon.

“My name’s Eustass Kid. Call me that, or Master, and stop thinking of me as an it or a demon. I’m already annoyed by it.”

“Don’t read my mind then.” You retort.

“Some of that shit’s impossible to block out, especially when you’re thinking about me and looking at me. It’s like tryin’ to ignore someone yelling in your face, so fucking work on it.”

You let out a sigh and level a gaze at him and think to yourself how summoning Eustass Kid might be the biggest successful mistake of your life. But you’ll be damned if you were ever going to call him Master.

Eustass grins, licking his lips again. “Look here, honey pot, you sold your soul to a demon like me, you already are damned.”

“Are we agreed then, or do you have another stipulation?” You ask, ignoring the taunt.

“One more,” he says, stretching as all his perfect muscles shiver and roll. The action seems functional and not intended to seduce, but you could easily watch him do it again. “I expect to be fed.”

“… what do demons eat?” You’re hoping he’s not going to expect you to hunt humans for him.

“Whatever the fuck they want, doll face. Normal human fare works fine. I don’t need to eat souls or whatever shit people think we eat.” He adds. Looking down first he catches your gaze with a crooked grin. “I don’t have any clothes for this world either.”

Your brows furrow. “Wait - are you requesting room and board?”

“And clothes. I don’t think you want the kind of attention that would come from me walking around like this.”

“… I had already intended to provide for you as best I could, so that’s not an issue.” You say, pinching the bridge of your nose. It was refreshing to feel a twinge of emotion, but why did that emotion have to be this?

“The bed’s big enough, and if you want it all to yourself, then I can fit on the couch. I’ll need a couple hours to go find clothes that will fit you, and while my funds aren’t endless, I am capable of buying food for,” you look at his size and get your japes in while you can, “the small army I’m sure lives within your stomach.”

“A sense of humor, that’s impressive.” He grins, arms folded across his chest. “I can’t bitch anyway, but I’ll earn all that food when I find your soul, little contractor.”

“… (Y/N).” You say, standing up. “Breaking the circle will free you on this side, correct?”

Eustass grins. “Yup.”

You walk away and into the kitchen before coming back with a bucket of hot water. It’s tempting to throw it on him, but you’re not trying to push the limits of your contract. You toss the water across the floor and as soon as the blood wavers, the light dims, and the spell breaks. Eustass Kid steps forward and takes a deep breath before leering down at you.

You look up at him, somewhat blankly and are about to ask what’s on his mind when strong hands grab and lift you. Before you’ve registered that you’re moving you’re up against the nearest wall roughly.

Hot, surprisingly painted and hungry lips press into yours, coaxing your mouth open with impressive skill. The taste of the kiss isn’t bad, it’s sharp like fresh spices and cleaner than you expected. It was delicious. The intensity is enough that you have no control, and your breath is wrested from you as hot hands wander under your shirt.

The lack of air makes you dizzy and causes your blood to rush, and you let slip an approving hum. The actions are far from gentle, but there’s no violence in them. It’s more passion than you expected, and your only regret is how little you’re able to appreciate it.

If this was how kissing an otherworldly being was like, you should’ve researched demon summoning a decade before your soul had been stolen.

Eustass leans back, amber-gold eyes shining under their own power. You’re breathing heavily, but only because you were out of air. Your face is flush from the sudden assault, but you can see his eyes narrow.

“When’s the last time you kissed someone?” He asks. There’s irritation in his voice that isn’t showing on his face just yet.

“Twenty years ago.”

“Last time you soaked your pants?”

It was a crude way of putting it, but you knew what he meant. “… Twenty-three years ago.”

“Fuck.” He pushes you into the wall in aggravation before letting you slide down the floor. “No soul, no fucking soul!” You can see the scales shiver across his body again. “Wait - no soul means no emotions, that’s how you knew, wasn’t it?”

You nod.

His pupils are like slits, and his hair seems to actually catch fire for a brief moment. He grabs your collar and yanks you close, leaning down so you’re practically nose to nose with him.

“I’m not going to be happy if I’m going to be celibate while we look for your soul.” He growls, and you can feel frustration rolling off him. You’re almost envious of how emotional he’s getting.

“I didn’t say I had to enjoy it,” you point out. “You can use my body, I’m okay with that.”

He straightens up, both hands over his face. “No, it’ll just piss me off.” He leans back down, growling in your ear, tongue slipping along your skin as his voice melts over you. “The sounds, little mouse, the squirming, the struggling, the delicious moans that are my fault and the pleading cries for mercy as pleasure overwhelms the little morsel whose mind is shattering from my cock buried deep in their soaking - needy - fucking body - is the point!” By the end he’s leaned back, growling the last few words in aggravation.

“If all I wanted was to nut and be done with it, I wouldn’t have answered you.”

“We can figure something out.” You insist. “One problem at a time. I need to buy you clothes. You can’t prowl the clubs looking for a screamer naked.”

You change your clothes, the back of your shirt was smeared with blood when he slammed you against the wall and you can’t go out into public like that. Making sure you don’t have any blood on your skin you fix you hair up and gather your keys and wallet.

Eustass has been scowling at the ceiling the entire time, his tail whipping against the concrete flooring of the apartment.

“What were you like before your soul got snagged?” He questions absently. You’re pretty sure he’s asking what you were like in bed.

“You can read my mind; can’t you see memories or something?” You ask.

“I’m not an incubus or a succubus, you little shit.” He grumbles, looking up at the ceiling still caught up in his own frustration.

“I… I was probably your kind of twisted.” You admit, feeling his gaze shift to you. “I don’t remember it clearly anymore, and I can’t hold onto the emotions enough to be sure, but I reveled in pleasure. I miss it.”

“Sex?”

“Feeling.” You clarify. “I haven’t felt pain, pleasure, rage, aggravation, joy, love, grief, or much of anything in twenty-five years. Imagine knowing you’ve orgasmed, but not feeling anything. Your body tenses, your pulse quickens, and that’s it. There’s no rush, no euphoria, no fear that it’s too much, nothing.” Your words and expression are softer than you actually feel about it, but you can’t force the anger up to the surface. “I still have all my accessories, feel free to look around while I’m gone. I’m just going to get you some basic items, enough for you to buy what you want tomorrow.”

You start toward the door and stop for a second. “Look, this is all weird as fuck, and I appreciate you being reasonable about it.” You feel like you should say something more, but it’s hard to sort out. Emotions guided a lot of your decisions, like it or not, and your struggle with social interactions had only gotten worse as more time went by.

You give a small nod, and leave.

There’s a long silence in the room and then Eustass practically growls an exasperated sigh of frustration. “Feeling fucking sorry for a human.”

#Souled Out #eustass kid #x reader #eustass kid x reader #supernatural au #one piece fanfiction #reader insert

[bokutosleftpinkie]

Genre: fluff

Character: Iwaizumi

TW: none

Note: it’s my first real fic back and people were asking about it so almost 3 years later I shall deliver

The day just keeps getting worse and worse.

You’ve always been a good student. You’ve never failed tests, always had good grades, everything had always just come naturally to you.

So why did you fail that last test?

Math was always a harder subject for you, but you never actually struggled with it per se. It wasn’t something that challenged you, but challenged you more than the other subjects in school.

You were in College Algebra, the last math class you needed ever, and you just bombed one of the biggest tests of the year.

You tried not to think about it the rest of the day, but the large red F followed you around constantly. Your brain was spinning in circles.

As you were walking to your last class, art, Iwaizumi stopped you on the way.

“Hey! How was your test?” he asked with a smile, already assuming the answers. He wasn’t expecting you to tear up at the word test. “Oh shit, what happened?”

“I… I failed it,” you stammer, trying desperately not to cry.

Iwa took in a breath. He had no clue what to do, but was determined to do something. “Do you wanna go get coffee after school? It might make you feel better.”

You frowned in confusion. “But don’t you have practice?”

“Eh, it’s an emergency. I’ll be fine if I skip one day,” he shrugged, then looked down at you, giving you his signature smile. “You deserve to be happy.”

You blushed, and the butterflies in your stomach started fluttering. “Okay,” you agreed. “I’ll meet you by the doors after school.”

Iwa leaned down and kissed you on the forehead. “Alright, sounds good. I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Bye!” you wave as he walks away. You walk into class feeling a little better.

“So, tell me all about it,” he says once you’ve sat down in the shop. You had gotten your favorite drink while Iwa had gotten a frappe.

You rant about your test, how you had studied like normal and the test felt fine. You thought you had done really good on it, but then received the grade back today. You started to tear up again.

“Hmmph,” Iwaizumi made a noise. “I wonder if the teacher just accidentally graded it wrong. Can I see it?”

You pull the paper out of your bag. He took it, flipped through the pages, and looked up at you.

“There isn’t a single mark on this test other than the F at the top. I think it might have been a mistake, bub.”

“You really think so?” you ask as you sip on your drink.

“There’s no way it wasn’t. I mean all the answers look correct from a glance,” Iwa handed the papers back to you and took a sip from his drink. “If anything they were probably grading 2 and a time and got mixed up. I’d just go talk to them tomorrow.”

You nodded, feeling way less anxious than before. There was a chance.

As you finished up your drinks, you left the shop hand in hand with Hajime, walking towards your house. Tomorrow, you would show your teacher your test and everything would be okay.

#seijoh iwazumi #iwazumi scenarios #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi x reader #iwazumi headcanons #haikyū!! #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!! #oikawa x you #hq oikawa #seijoh