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#plus these people always have the most miserable personalities
clockworkcheetah · 2 years
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man if you make a critical-specific blog you have already lost
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luveline · 1 year
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𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧
When Eddie asks you on a date, you don’t believe it. He probably meant as friends, right? Spoiler alert — Eddie wants to be more than friends, and he’s willing to prove it. [4k]
fluff, slight hurt/comfort, fem!reader, plus-sized!reader, reader feels undesirable, kissing, obligatory ‘don’t be cruel’ scene, eddie calls you pretty like ten times, requested here
𓆩❤︎𓆪
Eddie has one of those smiles that screams trouble. Every time he looks at you with that smile he might as well have "I'm gonna break your heart," written across his forehead in tandem. 
You sneak a glance at him across the atrium. Eddie’s paused bussing tables to talk to a patron, his customer service voice in play with a matching smile. It isn't the one you mean, but it's bad enough to make you flush red-hot. You cross your arms over the bar, regret it for its stickiness, and let your head rest against the crook of your elbow. 
You've been working together for a long time now, almost six months, and he's your favourite coworker hands down. He cleans up after himself, he brings snacks that you never accept (lest you look like the greedy chubby girl you worry everyone expects you to be), and he talks to you like a real person.
It's horrifying and it's not fair, but being fat means that sometimes guys don’t want to look at you. They don't want to be in the same room with you, and you can tell; they avert their eyes, or simply don't talk to you directly.
You've never had that feeling with Eddie. He meets your eyes, unflinching, and he sends you one of those pretty smiles and you think Fuck, because he should've been a movie star, he has the cheekbones for it, or a rockstar like that band he's always raving about. He'd have a slim LA girl on both arms, no doubt about it. 
He likely wouldn't waste his time with you. 
Not someone pretty as he is. Sometimes he'll lean over and expose the flat stretch of his stomach, his v-lines and the dark trail of hair peeking above his jeans, and you feel acutely miserable 'cause you know you'll never get to touch him. Workplace crushes suck. 
"Hey, are you okay?" a voice asks, a hand dropping against your shoulder. 
You pull yourself up quickly. Speak of the devil, Eddie stands beside you with his hair tied away from his face. He looks more entertained than concerned, his smile unfortunately genuine. 
"I'm fine," you say, stepping back. His hand falls away from your shoulder. "Sorry, just tired." 
Eddie leans into your space, squinting. You freeze up, but he's only checking the time on the clock behind you. "Gotta tough it out. Still an hour and a half 'til closing." 
Which means there's more than two hours of your shift left. Your face must show how unexciting that is —Eddie laughs, warm and quiet, and gives your hand a squeeze. 
"You'll live," he promises. "Are you busy tonight? Maybe we could go get pizza or something." 
"What, nobody else is available?" you ask. 
His head juts back a touch, put upon shock. "And why can't I ask you? I like you and I like pizza, that's a good combination. And even if you don't like me that much, you like pizza, right?" 
You know —you know, you do— that Eddie doesn't mean it as a slight. This isn't some thinly veiled insult on how you look. Why wouldn't you like pizza? Most people do, but his comment twists itself into an evil inky ball in your chest anyways, thick and hot as tar. 
You shake it off. 
"Who says I don't like you?" you ask, steering the conversation away from food altogether. 
His smile gets somehow better, which is to say worse. You're being punished for something, a childhood wrongdoing or a future crime, perhaps. Nothing else could warrant the mental torture that is being so close to him while he looks the way he does. 
"Good. Good, then we should get pizza. It's a date," he says, nodding. 
Morgan the shift manager calls for him to stop distracting you, though the Hideout is abandoned tonight, and there's nothing to distract you from. Eddie stands at full height, with a soldier's salute. "Yes, sir. No more lollygagging." He turns to you when you laugh, and you share a secret smile. 
He and Morgan disappear into the back of house. If you strain your ears, you can hear Eddie complaining about having to keep his hair in a bun, as it's totally against what he stands for, dude, it's stifling his self expression. 
"Count yourself lucky I don't make you wear a hair net, kid," Morgan says.
You turn back to your sticky bar, numb. It's a date? Did he mean, like, an actual date? A romantic date? 
Not a chance in hell. It's a colloquialism. Nothing more. 
Despite yourself, you stare into the silver reflection of a beer tap and try to liven up. You fix your hair, check your teeth, dig a lip balm out of your apron pocket and scratch the corners of your mouth just in case. The entire time you're heckling yourself about delusions. Eddie Munson doesn't like you. He's had a girl come around once or twice, and she'd been everything you're not: slender, confident. You'd wanted to dislike her, but she hadn't done anything wrong. There's no crime in being desirable. 
For the remainder of the night, you man the bar and serve the occasional patron. It's a Sunday night, so most stick to light beer or soft drinks. The live entertainment says goodnight and the Hideout empties like an opened floodgate. You clean the bar, Eddie buses the tables, and the kitchen staff turn on the radio and get to work cleaning. Soon, you can smell cigarette smoke and reheated mozzarella sticks. 
You wander into the kitchen to help. 
"Hi beautiful," Leon says, one of the cooks, "you want something to eat?" 
"No she does not!" Eddie says, helping the dishwasher Marcie with her last round of plates. Suds drip down to his rolled sleeves as he waves his hands around. "We're going to get pizza." 
"Yes!" Marcie says, delighted. 
"Where are we going?" Paul asks, another cook. 
"We," Eddie says, pointing at you and then himself, "are going to Marletto's. Yeah?" 
You startle when you realise he's asking you. "Oh, sure. Anywhere you want." 
His head bobs up and down, pleased. He goes back to his dishes. "Anywhere I want," he murmurs to Marcie, though he's saying it for everybody to hear, "hear that, Marc? I'm spoiled." 
You wipe down a few counters, label some leftover iceberg lettuce and put it back in the fridge. It's easy work, made better by the camaraderie of your coworkers, but you can't settle down. Your heart races at what's to come. "It's a date," is starting to feel less colloquial now Eddie's dissuading the other from joining you. That's how that works, right? He wants to be alone with you.
It might not mean anything. Maybe Eddie needs something from you he doesn't want the others to know about, like money. Maybe he wants girl advice, finally chasing that pretty girl who drops by sometimes. Or boy advice —there's a guy who comes around too, tall and blond and handsome. 
There's a logical solution. Any other girl would hear the word date and take it at face value, but you aren't them. You're you. You can't remember the last time somebody looked at you with desire in their eyes, if they ever have. High school was a shit show and work isn't exactly a hub for romance. Eddie joining the team here is the most excitement you've ever had in your life, for all his gentle squeezes and teasing elbows, his inside jokes and his tendency to burst into an air guitar solo at any given moment. He's a cheeseball, and you like him. It sucks. 
"Hi, are you ready?" he asks, coming out of nowhere. You're kneeling down near the lockers tying your shoelaces. 
It is a horrible position for him to see you in. You can't imagine what you look like, but you know it won't be pretty. You spring up with your shoelace untied still and smile weakly. "Yeah, I'm ready." 
"You need help with that?" he asks, eyes on your shoe. 
You burn with embarrassment. "I– no, I–" 
Eddie kneels down on the floor and reaches for your shoe. He ties it quickly in a double-knotted bunny-loop and pats the side of your ankle when he's done. When he looks up at you, you're in the middle of hoping a natural disaster will occur and put you out of your misery. 
He smiles at you from his position. Does he ever stop? 
"Cool," he says, standing up. He grabs his coat from his locker and doesn't bother closing it. "Let's go! I'm starving, man, Leon needs to mess up more often so I can steal the rejects." 
You follow him in a daze. Through the lockers and out of the kitchen, waving goodbye to the lingering closers and a grimacing Morgan. You aren't looking forward to seeing him again tomorrow. You're more than sure he'll have something to say about workplace fraternising and general dawdling. 
"You okay for us to take the van?" he asks. 
Eddie's given you rides home before, and what felt awkward before has lended itself to a familiarity. You nod your agreement and cross the small parking lot out back, your breath rising in the cold night air. 
Eddie pulls open the passenger door of his van with a strong-armed tug. 
"Been meaning to get the latch looked at. I'd rather it have trouble opening than trouble closing, though, so that's a plus." 
He waits for you to climb the short step and sit before he closes the door. 
“All limbs inside the ride?" he asks. 
You laugh. It comes out weird. You kind of sound like you're being held at gunpoint. 
Eddie gets in the van and makes small talk as he starts the engine and pulls her out of the lot. Your mind isn't there, exactly, or rather it's too close. You want to think about your answers but instead you're worrying about how you look while you say them. You're worried about the seat belt around your stomach, and the way you look from the side. Being around Eddie makes you more self-conscious than usual. 
Marletto's isn't the best pizza place in Hawkins but it's open until three AM. You and Eddie take the first empty booth you come across, and the agony of ordering in front of someone else begins. 
"Meat feast for me, obviously," he says, pulling off his jacket. 
The cracked vinyl seat beneath him crunches with his movement. You dedicate yourself to staying still. 
"I'll get a margarita," you say, glancing between him and the menu for his reaction.  
"Didn't take you for such a bore," he teases. "Drinks? Sides?" 
"Just water will be fine." 
"Are you sure? I'm paying. If you wanna take advantage of me, now's the time."
You shake your head, pushing your cold hands under your thighs. 
Eddie frowns. "If you're sure…" 
He gets up to track down the register. You sit there, wondering why you agreed to this, what possessed you, why you could ever think this was a good idea. You don't wanna eat in front of him, you don't know what to say, he's looking at you like everything's normal but this is so not normal, this is the opposite side of the spectrum. 
Eddie returns with your water and a coke, all smiles despite your clear nerves. 
He puts the drinks down and clambers into the seat with a leg folded underneath himself, his elbows halfway across the table. He looks you straight in the face. 
"That guy just looked at me like I was crazy. I'm hungry, sue me. Three orders of mozzarella sticks is a normal human thing to get, right?" 
"Three?" you ask. 
His hand reaches toward you. If your hand were there, he'd likely squeeze it roughly as he sometimes does, like a playful scolding. "I'm hungry," he repeats. "I didn't get any lunch on my lunch break. What's the point in that? Just sat down in the locker room thinking about it. It was actually worse than working." 
"You should've had Leon make you a burger. He's always offering." 
"Always offering you, maybe. The rest of us gotta fend for ourselves." 
"That's not true. He asks Marcie, too." 
"Yeah, well, Leon's a sucker for pretty girls." 
You look down at the table. 
"I got enough fries for both of us, I know you didn't want any sides but everyone wants fries. I won't be sharing the mozzarella sticks, so if you want some you better speak now." He raps the table with his knuckles. When you look up, his face softens. "Well, alright. Maybe I'll share them with you. I'm a sucker, too." 
"What's that mean?" 
"What?" 
"You know what," you say. 
Eddie crosses his arms across the table. His hands and arms are pale, the ink of his black tattoos stark. You could draw them without prompting, that's how often you've fallen into his trap. When he crosses his arms like this, his biceps bulge up a little bit, emphasising the pretty curves and ridges of his arms and the hints of greeny-blue veins hiding under his skin. He tilts his head toward his shoulder, his limp curls dragging against the table. 
"It means…" he says, holding your eyes, a gentle smile playing on his lips, "that you're pretty. You're so pretty, I'd do anything you asked me to." 
You flinch. You pull your numb hands from under your thighs and cover your stomach with your forearms, glaring at the table between you thoughtlessly. 
"That's cruel." 
"What?" 
"That's cruel, Eddie. You're being mean," you mutter.
"I–" Eddie stammers. "What? I'm just trying to tell you how I think about you– how I feel. I'm sorry if you don't wanna hear it, I'm not trying to be mean." 
Hurt creeps into the lines of your face, your eyebrows pulled down and the starts pulled up, your lips pursed. Heat bursts in your throat as a molten lump takes shape there. You don't trust yourself to speak, but you have to. 
"I thought you were my friend," you say quietly. 
"I want to be more than that." 
"You're making fun of me." 
"No." 
Eddie reaches across the table again. There's nothing for him to grab so he spreads his fingers and presses his palm flat. He ducks his head to meet your gaze. His eyes are ridiculously big, the black of his pupils blown and leaching into his dark irises until they're almost indistinguishable in the fuzzy lighting of the restaurant. 
"Come on," he says quietly, "when have I ever done that to you? I mess around, but I wouldn't say shit like that unless I meant it." His fingers lift off of the table. "I mean it. I think you're beautiful." His voice takes on a raw quality. 
You bite the tip of your tongue, fully frowning now. "I don't believe you," you say. 
"Why not?" he asks, frowning back. 
"Because I'm– I'm– I'm fat." You hate yourself for saying it out loud. 
People hate that word. Usually, if you admit to it, there's a rushed response. No, you're not. Pretty friends talk you down, loved ones wrap an arm around your shoulder and harp about puppy fat or big bones. 
Eddie doesn't do either. He sits back in his seat and smiles hesitantly. 
"Why's that a bad thing?" he asks. He shakes his head at himself. "I mean– I'm sorry, I should've said you aren't, you aren't–" 
"No, I am," you say. 
"You're so pretty," he says again, in a rush. "I don't care what size you are, I really don't. I just think you're beautiful and I wanted to ask you on a real date but I saw you and I couldn't wait anymore." He wraps his hand around the neck of his coke bottles and pulls it towards his chest. "Shit, I've made a huge fucking mess of it." 
You lean forward. Your body doesn't know what to do, the whiplash of hurt smothered by his enthusiastic, sincere compliments.
Why's that a bad thing? means more than anything else he said to you. 
"You really think I'm pretty?" you ask timidly. 
"Drop dead," he says. Hope flickers behind his eyes. "Morgan pulled me aside on my second week, you know that? Said if I didn't stop staring at you he'd put me in the back for the week." 
"He did put you in the back," you say, confused. 
"Exactly." 
Oh. You raise your head properly. Eddie's watching you, just you, obviously waiting for you to speak. The hope on his face is clear as day now, his lips parted, the tiniest peek of his tongue on display. 
"You promise you aren't messing with me?" you ask finally. 
"I promise." He holds his hand out, palm up. "I swear." 
Your heart a hummingbird, you take your hand from your waist and put it carefully in his. His fingers curl around yours like a prince, the tip of his thumb rubbing over your knuckles slowly, half an inch at a time. You exhale out of your nose as goosebumps race up your arm. 
He looks like he has more to say, but the pizza and all his sides arrive. You spring apart like teenagers, blood rushing in your ears. The server unloads his tray.
"Alright guys," he says, looking down at you both with a knowing smile. "Anything else I can get you while I'm here?" 
Eddie sneaks a look at you that holds way too much meaning. "No, I think we're alright." 
There's a tiny, awkward silence. You busy yourself with unfolding a napkin over your lap, not sure what to say to bridge the gap. 
Eddie takes the plunge. 
He slides a basket of mozzarella sticks at you. "Pretty girl privileges," he says.
You feel insecure eating in front of him, but the sheer ferocity of his compliments discourages any shame. He thinks you're pretty. He held your hand like it was made of glass and he got put in Hideout jail for staring. 
"I think you're handsome, too," you say. 
Eddie almost chokes on a handful of fries. "Shit," he says, swallowing roughly, hand thumping at his chest. "Thank god for that. I mean, of course you do. My devilish good looks are hard to resist." 
He's not wrong. 
Getting put on kitchen duty isn't half as bad as Morgan seems to think it is. Eddie kind of likes it, the noise, the chaos, the heat. Plus, he can steal fries hot and fresh out of the basket. He's only burned himself once. 
"What're you in for?" Leon asks him.
"Staring." 
"You're a freak, Munson, you know that?" 
Eddie shrugs. "If your girlfriend looked like mine, you'd stare too." 
"Uh-huh." Leon grabs up a spatula to flip a burger, pink meat down and brown side up. Fat sizzles dangerously. Neither man flinches. "She ain't going nowhere." 
"You don't know that. Some rockstar might blaze through here and snap her up. Who would I be to stop her? She should be a trophy wife, she's a stunner." 
"Christ," Marcie says from across the room. 
"How the fuck can you hear us?" Eddie asks. Over the sound of the overhead spray and the sizzle of the burners, Marcie must have superpowers or something. 
"Uh, 'cause you're fucking yelling," she says. 
Eddie looks to Leon for some defence, but Leon agrees. "You are super loud." 
"You would be too–"
"If I had a girlfriend as pretty as yours," Leon says, audibly grouchy. "I know." 
"Don't be jealous that I got there first." 
"How is this fair? You get in trouble and I'm the one punished." 
Eddie blows a big breath out of the corner of his mouth, one of his shorter curls dancing away from his warm face. Ridiculous. They're all awful, and jealous, and nobody wants him to be happy. "Losers," he mumbles. 
He's kidding, mostly. He knows that everyone is actually very happy for the both of you. How could they not be? Eddie's happier than ever and you've turned to mush. It's his favourite thing in the world. 
He thought you were pretty before. These days, you're gold dust incarnate. You see him and smile like you've been waiting for him, no more nervousness (which, he found out, was down to a raging crush on him) (he walked on air for days), no more shying away from his touch. Eddie puts a hand on your shoulder and you don't tense; you melt. Butter in the sun. 
It's glorious. 
And sure, Eddie ends up in the brig a lot. He 'hovers' apparently. So what? He'll say it again, if any of these guys were in his shoes, they'd fall victim to the same compulsion. 
He waits for an opportunity to arise, four dinner tickets and a dishwasher disaster, and sneaks away as silently as he can manage, creeping out of the kitchen and to the bar. You're busy pouring a beer and don't notice him until the customer's left and he's wrapping an arm around your waist. 
"Eddie," you scold lightly, leaning forward to accommodate his weight against your back, "come on. You might actually lose your job." 
"They can't fire me. I'm the best bus boy ever." 
You turn your face to look at him. Eddie wants to put you on TV, you look that sweet. 
"No, you're awful, you," —Eddie interrupts you, leaning down for a quick chaste kiss— "distract me, and you," —he steals a second— "don't actually bus tables when you should," you finish, disjointed. 
He brings his hand to your soft cheek, stroking a badly behaved baby hair back into place. You go lax like he's some kind of quick fix drug, and your eyes contain a tenderness that makes his chest ache. He covers his heart with his hand. 
"You're awful," you murmur. 
He takes your face into both hands slowly. One cups your cheek, and the other slides behind your ear. He pulls your face forward and down toward his chin, his lips by your ear. You smell amazing. His eyes close on instinct.
"A little. It's not my fault. You're just–" 
"So pretty?" you ask. "Yeah, you've told me." 
"I have, have I? Have to let me tell you again." He kisses the skin before your ear, more a press of his lips than anything. "You're beautiful," he mouths. 
You shiver, but ultimately end up planting your hands against his chest and ushering him away from you. 
"Stop it. I mean it! We're in public, at work, and you're gonna mess me up." 
"I want to mess you up," he says easily. 
"I know you do." 
Eddie sighs, agonised, but heeds your warning. "Alright," he says, squeezing your shoulder in goodbye. You smile and squeeze his elbow in return. It's your new thing, silent conversation in fond touches. 
He's a couple of feet away when the urge to turn back is too much. He jogs back to your side, gets his hand behind your neck, and kisses you with enough pressure that your lips part underneath his in shock. He adores the side of your neck with his thumb one sweeping stroke at a time, his nose digging sliding against yours as he inches in further, and further. The dizzy pleasure of your lips can't be understated. Eddie fights back a kiss-ruining smile with all he's worth. 
"Sorry," he says, pulling back. Your lips shine and you blink, dazed. "Sorry," he says again, leaning in to kiss them dry. 
You laugh quietly, a breath against his cheek, and he's a goner, dropping pecks all over your pretty face until you're giggling and sinking into his arms. 
"I really am sorry." He punctuates with a kiss under your jaw. 
"No," you say breathlessly. Your hand twines loosely in his hair. "You're not." 
No, he isn't. He's never felt less sorry for anything in his life. 
𓆩❤︎𓆪
thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed! If you did, please consider reblogging, it helps more than you know!! <3 
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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months
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HEYYYY
Soo I'm here to rq another Damian x reader(platonic). But real quick, I'm sorry if I'm requesting too much or being a nuisance. Pls lmk if I am so I can stop! It's just hard to find somebody that writes for him like dis.
Anyways, basically the same thing were theyre friends but this time it's a diff scenario. So Damian n reader are obvi friends but theyre also complete oposites. Like Damian is intelegent, focused and meanwhile has reader is a bit dumber, daydreams too much, and kinder. They also get walked over a lot.
So he invites reader over to the manor and she meets his brothers n dad. It's all fine n dandy but they can't help but notice how diff they are.
Bonus points if reader talks positively abt him to his brothers and they're all like "fym he's nice?" And readers all like "fym he isnt?" (They're just not used to being treated like a normal human being) ‼️
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Honestly I love writing for platonic! Damian. So pls don’t apologise for anything bc I’m having so much fun rn. 🦦plus I don’t know if this will read well as I’ve written this late at night when o should probably be in bed.
‘Am I seeing things or has Damian finally made a friend.’ Dick whispered to Jason, his eyes unable to tear his eyes away from you and Damian followed Bruce through the manor.
‘Nope, I’m definitely seeing it too.’ Jason replied also looking at you and Damian as if he was looking at the human personifications of night and day.
‘The fact that the demon spawn managed to get a friend sure is…something.’ Tim piped up, having overheard his brothers conversation from standing in between them. ‘I can only hope he didn’t kidnap the poor soul.’ Dick added as he was quick to click onto how Damian kept a hand on your arm, tugging and pulling you along when you stop to stare at a painting in awe for a little too long, gently encouraging you to keep up with him and Bruce by promising to go back to the painting later. Jason then looked over at Tim, ‘any ideas on who they are?’ Tim shrugged. ‘Only the fact that they go to the same school as Damian, share the same art classes and is known for being a little bit of a daydreaming pushover, but despite all that they’re still a kind person.’
Dick smiled sympathetically as his heart ached for you. It wasn’t easy being nice in a city like Gotham, if anything nice ever wandered into the accursed city it seemed as though Gotham itself would stop at nothing to see it destroyed, decimated and become as miserable and as bleak as the city itself; So it was rare to find someone who genuinely could still bring it in themselves to smile whilst in a city like this. And for that Dick had to give you props for being brave enough -and strong enough- to be kind in a place that would gladly take pleasure in stepping over and on you at any inconvenience. For it was truly a sign of bravery at its finest.
‘That kid is sure brave.’ Jason signed, knowing that people like you don’t last in Gotham but it was people like you that Gotham needed the most, but how could a retched place like Gotham heal when it’s always been a rotten city since it’s very conception? He didn’t believe it could be possible but there were always solutions to fighting the problem that seemed impossible to overcome. So who cares if you weren’t the brightest bulb at school? The education system in Gotham was shit anyway the last time he checked and he doubted much had changed when he…well you know…
Tim was silent. He was too busy recognising the protective measures that Damian was taking specifically for you; mainly the hand tugging at your arm anytime he thought you were getting distracted or wandering off elsewhere and muttering about how you need to keep or you’ll get left behind, despite the fact that even if you did Damian would allow himself to fall behind just so that he could walk besides you. While he might be part of the majority that didn’t think he’s ever see the day that Damian brought a friend home, never less a friend who was the total opposite of him. He couldn’t help but feel a sort of relief that Damian finally found a friend, and he knew that both Jason and Dick felt similarly from the looks upon their faces, silently observing how you interact with one another.
The one thing that Tim was confident in was the fact that Damian needed you as much as you needed Damian because you were a beacon of opportunity for his younger brother in many ways that Tim was certain you weren’t made aware of just yet. So while he and his brothers may tease and take this piss about how different you were from Damian, they mean well and express their happiness the only way they knew best; teasing and taking the piss.
‘This library is beautiful Mr Wayne! Do you have any fantasy books?’ You could be heard asking down the hallway, followed by the sound of Bruce softly laughing as he showed you the grand library. ‘This library has any book you can think of and please call me Bruce, it’s not often that Damian brings anyone home for the weekend.’ He says as you looked the Damian confused and a little betrayed. ‘You’ve got friends other than me?’
Damian groaned. ‘No. I don’t, you’re the only friend I’m willing myself to have.’
You smiled and gripped his hand. ‘Aww Dami! That’s so sweet of you to say, despite how brash and blunt you may come across, I’m glad to say that you’re the only friend I’m willing to have too!’ You said without shame. ‘Everyone else isn’t a nice as you are.’ You trailed off while a rare solemn look appeared upon your face as Damian was quick to squeeze your hand reassuringly, Bruce smiled sympathetically. ‘I’m not smart like your son mr Wayne, I can’t help it if things don’t come to me as easy as they do others but I try! I try really heard to do my best at every test but…but people tend to laugh of me because to them I’m either slow or thick.’ Damian’s jaw clenched and his brows furrowed upon being remembered of what people tended to call you.
He hated it and whenever he saw it happen, he was quick to utter some threatening words before taking his usual position as your pseudo-bodyguard for the rest of the school day. At first he wasn’t bothered but when you became restless in your pursuit of being his friend, he remembered vividly how people were mocking and making fun of you for trying to be his friend, that he often regrets not accepting your friendship sooner if it meant being able to be there when it counts.
‘When will you get it that Damian doesn’t want to be friends with someone like you.’ One person said.
‘Then I’ll just have to keep trying.’ You rebutted, still smiling somehow.
Another person scoffs. ‘Get fucking real. You’re a weirdo, no one wants to be friends with a weirdo who so fucking slow at everything.’
You merely shrugged, even when someone’s insulting you, your brain doesn’t recognises it as such. ‘I’m sure he won’t mind.’
‘God you’re so fucking useless that I’m surprised that anyone bothers with you. Let me say this in a way you won’t have to try so hard to understand dipshit. Damian. Will. Never. Be. Friends. With. Someone. Like. You. Ever.’ A third slowly spoke and Damian had heard enough and within a blink of an eye had laid them out flat. You blinked before looking at Damian with a bright smile. ‘Hi Damian! Did you hurt these guys, that’s not very nice.’
‘They insulted you and yet you defend their honour.’ Damian asked incredulously as you both walked down the hallway, leaving the three bullies to groan from their injuries. You shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t say that.’
‘They were insulting you.’ Damian reiterated. ‘They insulted your intelligence and your abilities. People like them often hide bigger insecurities than others.’ Damian replied, finding your ability to keep smiling after such things both annoying as it was admirable.
‘Are we friends now?’ You asked innocently enough and Damian knew he had sealed his fate, and so he sighs and looks up to the ceiling. ‘Yes, we’re…friends.’ He mutters and doesn’t do anything to stop you from dragging him to art class.
‘I was alone before Damian.’ You admitted as you looked at Bruce with a smile as you squeezed Damian’s hand in kind. ‘But now he’s here and he’s my bestest friend ever!’ Damian honestly wishes that you respect yourself more because you could claim that he saved you multiple times, but you’d never acknowledge the times where you have saved him by being unequivocally kind, sweet and over all a better person then all of Gotham’s civilians combined. ‘I was finding my first week at school horrid before I befriended l/n.’ Damian admitted as you softly cooed. The boy then swallows thickly. ‘Their friendship is much appreciated.’
‘Aww! Dami!’ You cried as you crashed into him, causing you both to hit the floor in a heap of limbs.
While Damian was cursing mom lethal threats and you were laughing, Bruce had already made his mind up about you and was certain to make sure to have Damian invite you over as much as possible. It was obvious for him to see that you and Damian were good for each other despite your vast and glaring differences, however that’s what worked in your favour, the power to have over come all odds was incredible; not to mention the fact that your friendship with Damian had lasted as long as it has was another impressive feet on top of that. Bruce knows it’s been hard for Damian to fit in and find a friend, but he couldn’t have made a better friend than he did in the likes of you.
You were more than defiantly welcomed back to the manor if Bruce had anything to say about it.
‘Get off of me!’ Damian shouts.
‘Damian, I think my foot is stuck with yours.’ You reply, scared.
‘That’s your own foot- how did you manage to tangle yourself up in yourself? You landed onto of me?’ Damian asked incredulously.
‘Sorry.’ You apologised.
‘Don’t be.’ Damian said.
Bruce smiled one last time before leaving you both alone in the library to untangle yourselves, only to be greeted by Tim, Dick and Jason. ‘Can I help you three?’ Bruce raised an eyebrow at the boys.
‘Nope.’ Dick started.
‘Not really, just…seeing how the little scamps are dealing.’ Jason followed after.
‘Damian? Nice? The same Damian who tried to, oh I don’t know…KILL ME?!’ Tim asked, revealing to Bruce all he needed to know, their breathing behind the library door was telling that they were clearly eavesdropping on the three of you. Jason and Dick looked at him displeased as Tim looked back at them. ‘I’m not the only one of us who thought that.’ He defended himself. ‘I mean it’s nice that he’s looking out for y/n but still that’s not something someone casually forgets.’
Bruce merely leaves Tim, Dick and Jason to their own quarrel, he loves his boys he truly does, but sometimes they’re more trouble than what they’re worth. He can only hope that they don’t scare you off from coming back for good because he was already planning your next visit.
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afewproblems · 1 year
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Give me Steve, Eddie, and Robin at a bar on a Friday night.
They've had a few drinks, and a shot or two when a song comes on, and Steve immediately jumps to his feet with an, "Oh shit!!"
It's Madonna's Get Into the Groove and for a moment Robin and Eddie think Steve is in pain, that he hates the song as is going to ask the DJ to change it.
Except Steve waltzes onto the dance floor, right into the center.
There aren't too many others dancing, it's early still, barely nine in the evening but the spot lights are on and the DJ flicks on the multicolor strobe as Steve parks himself on the dance floor.
Robin laughs and wishes she had brought the disposable camera instead of leaving it in her junk drawer at home.
Eddie meanwhile rolls his eyes, and pretends not to notice the tightness of Steve's jeans or how the light catches the flecks of gold in his hair and eyes.
He's been attempting to hide his pathetic little crush for awhile now, complaining to Robin every chance he gets when Steve does something particularly charming or handsome.
She tells him, as sagely as she can muster, to grow a pair and do something about it already.
But how can he, Steve was, well, Steve...lovely caring, hot as hell, Steve.
What chance did Eddie have?
So he sits there, miserable, nursing his beer, letting his eyes trail after Steve while Robin giggles beside him.
They've never seen him dance, it's bar, they're drunk, the worst that could happen is he makes an ass out of himself and they all go home with a great new story to tell the party later.
God Robin really wishes she brought her camera with her.
But then Steve is moving and he's fluid, never missing a beat. It's some kind of choreography, intentional and practiced movements that wouldn't be out of place in a music video. Eddie and Robin look at each other because, what the fuck, where did this come from??
And people are cheering and whooping, strangers scattered here and there sitting off of the dance floor. There's a sense of comradery, like they're all witness to something and being allowed to share and indulge in this little impromptu performance, but all too soon the song is over and Steve heads back to his seat with a small round of applause and a blinding smile pulling at his flushed cheeks.
"Steve, what the fuck was that??" Robin blurts out before Steve can even sit. Eddie nods, a little dazed, beside her and tears at the paper label on his beer bottle, maybe if he can keep his hands occupied he can keep them to himself.
"What was what?" Steve breathes out as he hops onto the stool beside them, Robin in the middle.
Robin's mouth falls open as her face scrunches into something exasperated but fond, "What was--that! The dancing!"
"Oh, that," Steve huffs with a lazy smile, he leans his elbow on the sticky wood bar and waves at the bartender to signal for another gin and tonic, "I used to help Carol with her choreography for cheer".
Eddie pinches his thigh below the bartop and chews the inside of his cheek as the image of Steve in the Hawkins High cheer uniform begins to solidify in his minds eye, fuck.
Robin elbows Eddie without looking, somehow reading his mind, and throws her hands out, beckoning Steve to continue because that isn't nearly enough information.
"Yeah, she'd come up with routines and you know, they are meant to be done with more than one person, and I mean she and I were friends before Tommy so," he shrugs and smiles at the bartender as they pass him the drink, "I dunno, it was fun, and I remember that one the most".
"Plus," he says with a smirk, "Carol always said the best thing about dance is that you can tell who appreciates the performance and who appreciates the person doing it," he winks as Robin scoffs and calls him gross, but Steve isn't looking at Robin.
Eddie swallows as molten heat creeps up his neck and over his ears, the urge to hide his face, run for the door, melt into the floor, is immense.
But Steve doesn't move his gaze, he smiles softly at Eddie and winks again over Robin's head which she promptly drops into her hands.
"I'm surrounded by horny idiots," she grumbles but the words are muffled in the din of the bar and her own hands as Steve tips his head back to the dance floor and holds out his hand for Eddie to take.
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celiafufflie · 2 months
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OC that I made which was heavily inspired from @jazjelspen's platonic x reader fic "My Angel Baby" cause I love it a lot! if u haven't read it give it a it's soo good!!;;
ok idk more info abt her again below the cut ((it might be long)):
--
After being killed by the one person who she admired, respected, and loved the most, Elise spent her first few years in Heaven feeling miserable as she felt like everything that she'd experienced and lived through with her beloved father was all a lie. It was depressing.
Of course she wouldn't show her pitiful state with the others, why would she? They're in heaven, it should be the happiest place anyone could possibly be in! No need to be a bother.
Emily, being the seraphim who's job is to bring joy to all of heaven, saw through Elise's front. 
Having dealt with some poor mortal souls similar to her before, Emily zeroes in on Elise and does her best to keep her from being left on her own thoughts, always including Elise to anything she thinks she would like and find fun. (Elise initially didn’t want to, though she also couldn’t say no. Emily was so sweet and kind, and that makes her guilty.)
It somewhat helped as Elise’s focus shifted on Emily’s efforts, something that she’ll eventually grow fond of. This kept up until they became best friends! …somehow.
Elise seeing what Emily does daily as a Seraphim? Very admirable. But also Elise decided that she wanted to help Emily with bringing happiness and peace to others, making them both always together almost everyday.
It was taxing, but knowing that Emily does this all on her own, Elise would keep on helping her as Emily has helped her before. Plus, doing this with Emily helped her meet interesting people! Like St.Peter! Or maybe Ruth– or Troy! (the guy who dutifully keeps heaven’s dog park clean, bless you Troy)
Or… Adam? He leaves a lot to be desired.
She also met this really pretty, and sweet, older woman that kind of makes her feel somewhat nostalgic. Elise likes her a lot, and the woman also seems to feel likewise! She’d often invite the younger girl over for tea and such, something she’s always happy to attend to. Unfortunately it was an occasional thing as she’d dedicated herself to assisting Emily with her duties.
That was how her (after)life went by as decades passed in Heaven.
Though… Elise sometimes still thinks of him, her father. He’s down in hell, damned for eternity for all the sins and deceit that he’s committed. Deserving for Alastor, fitting for the monster that he truly was.
They both will never meet ever again, and she strongly believed in that.
Oh…
How much she misses her beloved father.
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farfromstrange · 9 months
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Just Let Me Love You | Matt Murdock x Reader
Masterlist
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader (f!Reader heavily implied)
Summary: You're struggling with your body image and Matt notices
Warnings: Angst, TW: allusions to an ED, self-deprecating talk (Reader has internalized fatphobia toward herself), not proof red (I was too emotional for that)
Word Count: 2.1k
A/n: So, my body is changing and I hate it. As someone who was the Fat Funny Friend growing up, I got inspired by the song. Now I wasn't sure if to tag for a plus-sized reader because when I wrote this, I had myself in mind, and I'm not even sure what "category" I fall into, so this is pretty universal and I think any of you who are struggling with body dysmorphia might appreciate this. Heed the warnings before proceeding and don't forget to eat if you haven't already! (Also, I used my tag list to tag for this, but don't read it if this triggers you, please!)
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Our brains are wired to function in a certain way. But not every brain is balanced in chemistry. 
For the longest time, she thought there was something seriously wrong with her. She never fit in anywhere, so she tried to make herself fit. Change her attitude, change her behavior, change her hobbies, and change the way she looks. She did it so many times, she lost count. 
She relied on humor, telling funny little anecdotes to make whatever friend group she was a part of at the time laugh at her. But that was all she could do. Make them laugh. She lit up the mood, lit up the room, but she seemingly never lit up anyone’s heart the way her friends did. 
They talked about their relationships, talked about their families and friends, and she played along. She listened. When she talked about her likes, they pretended to care, but within minutes, they lost interest. She thought it just wasn’t that important. Not as important as how beautiful they all were, anyway. And they were striking, she thought. That’s why everyone always chose them and never approached her. But she swallowed it to at least be a part of something. 
She always helped everyone but herself. She was there when no one else was, but even when she was a part of something, she never fully fit in. There was an impossible standard looming over her head, and she couldn’t possibly reach it. 
Don’t be too loud. Don’t be too silly. Don’t say no. Don’t talk about your problems, only listen to everyone else’s. Don’t believe that he wants you because he is too good for you, and all he wants is your best friend who is ten times prettier than you. And don’t believe that personality and humor will get you anywhere; you will end up miserably alone the same way people who look like you always will. 
The same voice, over and over again. Word turning into knives. It was exhausting to fight against the demons within her because they just sounded so damn convincing. 
When she met him, the man who stole her heart, she never thought he would ask her out. When he did, she was dumbfounded. In every possible situation, he found himself assuring her that he wouldn’t drop her for the pretty blonde in the office, or his psychotic ex-girlfriend who just happened to have the most beautiful body known to man. To her, at least. Everyone around him was just so beautiful, and he was even more so–he was the prettiest specimen in the world, and everyone desired him. Of course, she grew insecure. She couldn’t help it. It was a reflex.
She fell in love with a man who finally saw her for who she was and he loved her despite—no, he loved her regardless. For who she was. He took her, accepted her, and began seeing her as the most beautiful person in the world. For the first time, she felt appreciated, loved, and not so miserably alone. 
Yet, the fear continued to linger. The fear that one day, he would notice that perhaps, a woman of average looks wouldn’t be enough for him anymore. That she was, indeed, as unconventionally unattractive as everyone said she was from the first day she actually understood what was being said to her. She was just a child then. 
The funny friend. The awkward friend. The weird one. The girl without real friends. The girl with the silly clothes, the silly smile, the slightly crooked teeth, the belly pouch… The girl who lost weight, the girl who gained weight, and the girl who shouldn’t be so proud of herself because she had nothing to be proud of. 
“Sweetheart?” he asked her, yanking her out of the downward spiral that only continued to get worse over time. “Did you have anything to eat yet?”
He stood in the kitchen, the sleeves of his dress shirt bunched around his elbow. It was hot outside, too hot for her liking, and even his clothes were slightly stained with sweat. 
She looked up from the couch, still wrapped up in a blanket despite the high temperatures, a book resting on her thighs. He met her eyes with a smile. 
“I noticed your leftovers are still in the fridge. Could smell them,” he clarified. “I was just wondering whether that was on purpose or not.”
Worrying fit it better, she thought to herself. He always worried too much. 
She closed her book. “I might’ve forgotten,” she said as if it was the most natural thing in the world. 
His eyebrows furrowed. “You forgot?” There was a hint of amusement in his voice, but it never reached his eyes. 
“Yeah. I probably got too caught up reading or something. It’s no big deal. I’ll eat later. Or drink another latte.”
He hummed. “You know, iced coffee is not considered a healthy diet. Your body needs fuel.”
“Jesus Christ, Matt,” she raised her voice, “I’m okay!”
“You don’t look okay,” he stated as a matter of fact. 
“And how would you know?”
“I just do.”
He approached, his muscles straining against his shirt. It wasn’t fair, how good he looked. How well he carried himself. And he still had the audacity to look at her and tell her she had much more going for herself than just her humor. That she was beautiful. Pretty enough. 
“Hey,” Matt lowered himself on the couch beside her, “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, huh?”
“I forgot to eat, I told you,” she said.
“I don’t believe you.”
“But it’s the truth.”
“Not if you did it on purpose.”
The book landed on the coffee table and she got up, pacing the small space of their shared apartment in the heart of Hell’s Kitchen. He could hear her heartbeat pounding against her ribcage, the pent-up tears, and the tension, and he wanted nothing more than to reach out. But he waited. He gave her the space she needed to collect her thoughts.
“I forgot,” she repeated. “At first. And then I just happened to pass by a mirror and…and I looked at myself. I mean, really looked at myself.”
“Oh–” He sighed. “Baby…”
“I’m smaller when my stomach is empty, you know. And I thought it wouldn’t hurt me to, uh…cut back a little?”
He was about to respond, but she cut him off. “I don’t mean that I’m starving myself. I just…I forgot to eat, and then, when I remembered, I remembered what I saw and I was just…I’m not hungry anymore. I…I don’t think it’s a big deal. I’m not doing it on purpose, I’m just…”
She stopped pacing. She met his unfocused hazel eyes that held so much pain when he looked at her. He reached out, not saying a word, and she extended her shaky fingers toward the lifeline he was throwing. 
“Oh, God,” she whispered. She realized then why he looked so hurt. “It’s getting bad again, isn’t it?”
The question hung in the room as he pulled her toward himself. 
She didn’t protest when he pulled her back onto the couch, his arms engulfing her and pulling her back against his sturdy chest.
“What makes you think that you need to hurt yourself to fit some unrealistic beauty standard?” he asked softly, his voice merely a breath tickling her ear. 
She whimpered, not wanting to answer. 
“What makes you think that not being healthy is the solution to the way you see yourself? Wouldn’t that just make it worse?”
“I just…” She took a deep breath. “I just… I just want to be enough.”
“But you are enough,” he answered in a heartbeat, placing his hand on her neck and turning her face to him. He missed her face with his gaze, but she could still feel him in every fiber of her being as he sat there and felt her pulse, and she matched her breathing to his. 
A tear rolled down her cheek. “You don’t understand what it’s like,” she whispered back. “You don’t understand what it’s like to be only seen as the comedic relief in every relationship you have ever been in while your friends pulled the guys you wanted. Because they never wanted you, and they never saw competition in you either because you were just never the center of anyone’s attention.”
He was silent for a moment. The taste of her tears reached his tongue, and he visibly recoiled at the pain she held inside of her. Matt pulled her closer, holding her a little tighter. She melted. 
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of leaving her to deal with her thoughts, he placed his lips against her ear again. “You’re the center of my attention,” he said. “Of my world. My universe. And I couldn’t care less about the way you look.”
“That’s because you’re blind,” she shot back, a sob rippling through her body. 
He shook his head. “No. Those who reduce you to your looks are blind, and they don’t even deserve you in the first place. What matters most is this–” his large hand found its way onto the left side of her chest, above her heart. “What’s in here is what makes you beautiful, not what covers the outside.”
“But that’s not enough, is it?”
“To me, it is.”
“Not to me, Matthew. Like I said, you don’t get it.”
She struggled against his grip, but he wouldn’t let her go. “Then let me rephrase it,” he tried again, pressing his hand further against her chest. “I care more about who you are inside because I love you. But I don’t need sight to appreciate your physical beauty along with the sound of your heartbeat. Your breathing. Your touch. You know why?”
She shook her head. “Enlighten me.”
“Because I can feel you, sweetheart, and you are the most breathtaking human being I have ever had the pleasure of laying my hands on.”
If words were enough to make a person pass out, this would surely have been her breaking point. 
“You mean that?” She turned around, her tears now glistening with a taste of hope. 
He brushed them away with his thumb and nodded. “Every last word.”
Her eyes fluttered closed at the ghost of his touch. “I don’t like my body,” the admission came quietly.
In response, Matt nodded. “I know, but you have nothing to be ashamed of. That body deserves to be loved. You deserve to be loved.”
“I feel like…like I don’t deserve you. I don’t want you to leave me for…for Karen.”
The mention of her name caused him to frown. “Karen?” he asked. She nodded. He sighed, forcing her head to his chest, forcing her to listen to his heartbeat the same way he always did to her. “Don’t even think like that,” he told her. “I would never leave you for someone else. For no one, for nothing. I need you to stop assuming that, sweetheart. It’s not true.”
“It feels true,” she cried. 
His lips brushed the crown of her head. “But it isn’t.”
“But–”
“I love you,” he said, a bit more insistent this time. “Only you. I would rather die than never be with you again. And I mean that. Bring me the poison and I’ll prove it to you. I’ll get on my knees and worship the ground you walk on if that’ll make you believe me, but I won’t leave you.”
She clung to him, her nails digging into his shirt. Matt shushed her, his fingers brushing through her hair. The rhythm was soothing. 
She sobbed until she had nothing left to give. She cried because she knew he was right. She knew she was overthinking, but she was powerless to fight it. He was the only one who could open her eyes, and even then, she more often than not slipped away. She hated it. She hated the way her brain was wired, the things she was taught, and the things she continuously and wrongly kept teaching herself. 
Eventually, though, she slacked in his arms. 
“I don’t really like myself right now,” she confessed. “But I don’t know how to stop it.”
Matt chuckled softly, his chest rumbling. He tilted her chin up. “Then let me help you,” he said. 
“How?” she asked. 
He leaned down, his lips brushing against hers in a gentle kiss. “Just let me love you.” 
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Tagging from Matt Murdock Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @ravenclaw617 @thychuvaluswife @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten
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jensettermandu · 4 months
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maneater - lalisa manoban
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genre; smut
pairing; g!p lisa x female reader
content; fingering, slight edging, semi public (they have sex in a public bathroom), p in v :D, idk i don't think i missed anything
wc; 6.7k+
masterlist
Expensive cars, luxury brands, trips worldwide, houses on every continent, and events for the elites. 
These were just some of the things in Lisa’s life. 
A long line of generational wealth. 
Sitting at a charity dinner wasn’t unusual for her despite only being 23. She was next in line to take over her family business once she would be suitable enough to do so. Those were years yet to come–five maybe seven before she would get to even touch that power. 
Of course, it all came with rival companies worth multiple billions who would always stand in the way, steal deals, and be competitive.
The ballroom was filled with chatter as everyone conversed and even if it was charity, for most it was just a chance for new business. She wasn’t invited as a plus one anymore but got her invites because her name would be important in the future. That was why she was sitting at another table, far from her father. 
Eight different people sat at the round table. 
There were so many different tables and close to 300 people at the charity. 
Out of all the seven different people she could have been seated with, right beside her was the 21-year-old Zhou Y/n who came from an even bigger line of generational wealth after being part of an old Chinese dynasty. 
The only heir of one of the biggest oil companies from a conservative family from China. 
Conservative media-wise until Y/n came along. 
The last headline Lisa could remember was the girl getting a DUI and she knew that there was so much more but her family covered every little trace, but driving a car into a pole right before the media would be hard to cover. 
Where Y/n went chaos followed.
What Lisa couldn’t phantom was how someone like her was set to start working by her father’s side in just four more years. Takeover in a couple more. Quicker than Lisa.
Smart. Y/n was incredibly smart despite everything else. 
She somehow balanced chaos and intelligence. 
Aside from that the girl was the daughter of Lisa’s father’s biggest competitor, arch-rival at this point as there was nothing but bad blood which automatically put a wall between her and Y/n. 
She hated the entitled and spoiled brat beside her, she was born to hate her and she would do so to carry on the legacy of hate as Y/n hated her just as much.
The only difference was that Y/n had a different approach to hatred. 
She made sure to make Lisa’s life miserable every time she had the chance while Lisa tried to hate her from her corner and not cause any trouble. 
It wasn’t like they saw each other often. 
Y/n was studying in a different state.
She knew these things because she simply did, it wasn’t like Y/n had somehow caught Lisa’s interest after she grew some boobs. Definitely not. 
Lisa had tried to keep her conversations going with the other five people at the table because the sixth was already being in Y/n’s trance which was Kim Jisoo. There didn’t seem to be a single person to fall for it.
Aside from that the rest of the table was filled with men and women in their early to late 40s.
However, she had found herself glancing over at the two girls now and then. Unfortunately for Lisa, the girl who smelled of sweet floral heaven beside her was sexy. Y/n was the definition of sex appeal. 
Everyone had something they liked, and Lisa liked women who were of the standard that Y/n was. Not many were but whatever was close enough. Now one that was of the highest standard was right beside her. One that was off limits to her which only made it that much more cravable.
Her glances had been subtle, only pretending to look around to maybe catch the girl’s exposed clavicles in the black dress and some of the cleavage. Or she would fix her chair to try and catch her legs in the black sheer tights. The way she would flip her hair back gently and only expose herself more all while having a conversation with Kim Jisoo who was just as lost in Y/n as Lisa was. 
Y/n was a big and seductive flirt is what Lisa had caught on to. 
She always led men and sometimes women on at these parties for fun. 
She had seen it herself and she had run into these victims who would ask Lisa if she had seen the girl who she would prior see leave the place with that resting bitch face.
Lisa had never fallen victim to Y/n’s misleading that she did for entertainment. These events could get boring at times. 
Although, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to fall victim either. 
Whatever subtle glances Lisa had thought she had gotten away with had all been obvious to the soul-sucking vampire beside her as she left everyone heartbroken with her games. 
Lisa jumped in her seat, getting startled in the middle of her conversation with the woman who was sitting on her left. She quickly put down the glass with champagne to not spill anything on her clothes after whatever brushed along her leg had made her flinch at how sudden it was. 
“I’m sorry, what was it that you said?” She apologised to the woman and leaned somewhat closer to hear her better, trying to play it off as if she hadn’t heard her. Lisa continued to listen to the woman, brushing it off as an accident despite the only possible culprit being the woman who had a husband beside her or the siren on her right. 
Whoever it was it had to be an accident–
Just a few seconds after she felt it right again but it startled her less. Lisa cleared her throat and leaned back in her chair, nodding to what the woman had said. She subtly glanced under the table and it had to be Y/n who was sitting with her right leg crossed over her left. 
Accident.
When she looked over at Y/n she was showing off that perfect smile to the man who sat across from her and Jisoo. 
She let out a sigh and reached for her champagne glass. It would get overwhelming way too quickly otherwise. The woman would have been able to take that sip of expensive bubbles if it hadn’t been for the foot that ran right up her shin and she forcefully gulped it down. The thin glass almost slipped from her hold and she placed it right back down. 
Just as Lisa turned to not glance at the entitled girl but actually look at her, the woman felt a heat run over her spine in the worst way possible considering this was Y/n. She did not need these reactions because of her.
“I’m so sorry–” Y/n apologised, her body was now turned to Lisa who widened her eyes as the vixen had placed her slender hand right on Lisa’s thigh to show her concern. “It’s just so tight here and I tried to make myself more comfortable, didn’t mean to startle you, Lisa.” Lisa clenched her jaw at the teasing in Y/n’s tone as the girl’s eyes were playing an innocent and apologetic look which was far from what her lips were releasing. 
Lisa huffed from her nose, nostrils flaring as the hand clasped on her thigh was warm and firm with the grip. “It’s fine.” Y/n gave her a smile at that, Lisa’s whole body tensing up at the squeeze she gave her before she let go. Her eyes watched Y/n for a few more seconds, seeing that glint in her eyes and smile that meant no good. 
“Mrs. Park, I have no idea how I missed you,” Y/n exclaimed and Lisa leaned back into her chair. The scent of the vixen was strong and it was running ideas in Lisa’s head from the sexual appeal it drove further. She was invading Lisa’s space on purpose, her hand holding onto the back of the woman’s chair, her modest chest just a mere inch from touching Lisa’s arm.
It left her trapped. 
“Oh God no, me and Chaeyoung have been studying day and night.” Lisa scoffed under her breath at the words she knew were lies. Her guy and girlfriends were obsessed with observing what the elite beside her was up to. It all included wild parties with booze that could fill pools. Her little group of friends were all taking part in it so Chaeyoung wasn’t studying day and night. 
Y/n hummed to what Mrs Park said while Lisa toyed with the knife on the table to not interrupt them by trying to talk with someone else. “Is that so?” Y/n questioned and Lisa was dying in her chair at the hand that moved from the backrest of the chair and onto her shoulder, the foot right back to brushing against her leg–it wasn’t even slightly subtle the way it went higher and higher up, dragging up her slacks before letting them fall back down. 
Lisa was trying to find a reason to excuse herself as she was starting to get overwhelmed by Y/n. All while trying not to do any abrupt movements. The girl was all over her and out of all the times now was the time she had no control over her cock that was starting to react to someone she despised. She cursed Y/n for her good genes. 
Her eyes trailed along her bare skin, hair in waves and falling over her shoulders, but Y/n moved it with her other hand. All that hair went from her left side and onto the right, it only showed off her smooth and slim body more to Lisa. The dress was accentuating her small chest, pushing her breasts together and Lisa moved her brown eyes up at her sharp collarbones, a diamond pendant resting between them. Her neck was slim and perfect and Lisa was growing harder the longer she looked at Y/n. 
“Oh this, ring?” There was a drop of mischievousness in her tone.
Lisa found out why it was there right away. 
Y/n’s hand ran down her shoulder and along her arm, until her left hand was planted right by her crotch, thumb merely brushing over the forming bulge as she leaned forward and stretched out her right hand that Mrs Park grabbed to look at the diamond ring. 
“Daddy bought it for my 21st birthday.” She happily replied, adding more pressure on Lisa’s thigh who was growing into a mess. 
“Excuse me.” Lisa excused herself, the chair dragged along the flooring louder than necessary and Y/n sat right back when she broke the contact between her and Mrs Park. Ultimately removing Y/n from herself before she disappeared. The girl excused herself from her conversation with the older woman before she looked at the one beside her.
“See, it doesn’t matter if they hate me, Jisoo…No one can resist my appeal.” Y/n said with a giggle and bit her lower lip as she looked back at Jisoo. “I won the bet, so…The number please.” The girl took her designer clutch purse and reached for her phone while Jisoo clicked her tongue.
“Do I have to give it to you?” Jisoo asked to make sure as the bet was her cousin’s number and the last thing she wanted was for Y/n to seduce poor Jennie too. 
“A deal is a deal.” She handed over her phone and leaned back into her seat before looking over her shoulder where Lisa had disappeared. Winning the bet she had made with the girl beside her. 
“I thought Lisa would be better than this.” Jisoo sighed and handed the girl her phone back, only hoping that Jennie wouldn’t be as stupid as Lisa and she had been. 
The bet?
Seduce Lisa and get Jennie’s number. 
Don’t succeed within five minutes, Jisoo gets Y/n’s number. 
God, Jisoo was pissed that she had to give her cousin's number to Y/n when she wanted it. She thought it would be an easy bet to win as she knew about the rivalry between the two families and how that created a feud between the heirs. It didn’t seem to matter as Y/n could get anyone to crumble before her. 
She watched Y/n who put the phone away and gently slid her chair back before excusing herself to leave as she stood up. “Where’re you going?” Jisoo asked and grabbed hold of her wrist. Not wanting the girl to leave her company.
Y/n gave her a little smile. “Finish what I started?” She said and Jisoo gave her a look. 
“What? She’s hot compared to the rest. Don’t be jealous.” Y/n defended and slipped out of Jisoo’s grip as she usually just left everyone right after, but Lisa was hot even if they were meant to despise each other. 
Jisoo sighed and leaned back in her seat as she watched Y/n walk away, realising that she had been played with just as much as Lisa tonight. The only difference was that Lisa got lucky this time and Jisoo didn’t.
Lisa unlocked the door after spending a good minute trying to tuck her erection right to hide it. She was both pissed at herself and even more pissed at Y/n while trying to grasp how she let the girl affect her. It just so happened that the girl she despised was utterly attractive. 
The woman pushed the door open while finishing to buckle her belt, but looked up at the voice.
“Everything alright, Lisa?” The voice came out angelic, with so much worry, concern, and innocence that Lisa would have almost believed it if it hadn’t been for the person behind that voice. Her eyes landed on Y/n who was sitting on top of the marble counter, one leg crossed over the other while leaning back against her palms. She did not look concerned, worried, innocent or angelic. 
She looked like the sexy she-devil herself.
“Why wouldn’t it be?” She tried to play it off because her ego was too big to feed into Y/n’s and admit that she had caused her an erection. Never. The woman could feel the siren eyes following her as she walked over to the black marble countertop and turned on the faucet to wash her hands. 
“Are you sure? You just ran off all flustered.” She hummed at that, keeping her gaze on her hands and avoiding looking at Y/n at all costs. 
Y/n watched how Lisa swallowed, her eyes trailing further down where she had done a poor job hiding her erection. With her lower lip trapped between her teeth, she leaned forward, gripping the edge of the countertop with her hands before letting go with one and reaching over to Lisa.
“Do you hate me, Lisa?” She mumbled, fingers dancing around Lisa’s shoulder who stopped washing her hands. She raised an eyebrow and looked at Y/n who was already looking back at her, grey eyes staring deep into hers, hypnotising her, distracting her fully from the haughty little smirk she was sporting. 
“What’s there to like?” Lisa asked back with a scoff, unflatteringly drying her hands on her slacks. Her eyes were hard yet still exploring whatever she could with them as Y/n was extremely close now.  
“There’s only so little you can see, but so much more to explore.” The words caught her off guard and she grabbed hold of the wandering hand that was running down her bicep. Lisa dropped Y/n’s slender hand and licked her lips as they stood in the empty restroom that was lit by a golden-like yellow, with black marble, accentuated by gold. Their bodies reflected in the big mirror that was on the wall and a second-long silence fell upon them. Lisa's dick twitched at those stupid words she was falling for because there was no way Y/n was offering herself to her. She probably wanted to make a fool out of Lisa for even thinking about it.
“I’m not falling for your games, Y/n.” Y/n smiled at that with a hum and Lisa took it as her queue to leave. 
She was stopped though, her eyes snapped up at Y/n with confusion. The girl stretched her long leg out and blocked the way. It sent a shiver over her whole body when her calf brushed over her hard cock and she stepped back when Y/n pushed more into it.
“Help me down? Wouldn’t want to break a heel.” With a deep inhale Lisa decided to assist the girl after she pointed with her head towards the black heels she had on. Her lips were pursed and she looked in the mirror behind Y/n instead while she gripped her waist and the girl held onto the lapels of her blazer. She was light as a feather as Lisa lifted the slim figure off of the counter.
Y/n giggled as she purposely lost balance and her hands grabbed hold of the hem of Lisa’s pants. Her body pressed into Lisa’s who strained a groan when her dick got rubbed at by accident and she angrily looked down at Y/n who looked as amused as ever. 
“Y/n.” She warned and pushed the girl up by her waist who was taller than her with heels on and without them she was just an inch taller. 
“Yes?” The vixen questioned, fingers teasing and hooking around the hem of Lisa’s pants. Looking at her through her lashes and still sporting that faux innocence that always got her out of trouble. The poor girl could cause no harm, could she? Not when she was playing a kitten that was kicked to the curb and standing in the pouring rain.
“Stop.” Lisa would only give her one last warning and then she knew that she would snap because of how sexually frustrated she was. 
“Or what?” Y/n challenged. 
“Or you will regret it.” She earned a breathless chuckle that fell from Y/n’s plump and glossy lips.
“I don’t think I will.” There was that deeper tone back, the one that was like a melody of sex and drew Lisa in further. Y/n’s normal voice and not the sweet one she did to play along in her games. That innocence washed away and everything Lisa should repent when it came to Y/n coming to light. Things that made her cock strain.
Lisa almost got lightheaded when a sneaky hand cupped her, squeezing at her erection enough to elicit a moan from the back of her throat. 
Y/n feigned a gasp, knowing very well what was coming when she got pinned against the counter. Her hands gripped Lisa’s blazer and she pulled her even closer to her while the older woman grabbed hold of her hips. Lisa’s eyes were hard on her as she stood pressed against the girl, staring her down while watching the way Y/n bit her lower lip to try and contain the haughty smirk that still broke out on her plump and glossy lips. 
“Do you always get what you want?” Lisa questioned, watching how Y/n ran her one hand down along her upper body, and down her stomach. The touch was slowly sending Lisa into a frenzy as she couldn’t deny the fact that Y/n was gorgeous and that many would pay to even be in this place that Lisa was, if not kill for it. 
This was the daughter of the elite of elites which meant that she stood above all too. 
“I’m daddy’s girl so yes.” 
And Y/n got what she wanted once again when she cupped Lisa through her pants, the woman groaning and muffling it by pressing her lips against Y/n’s. The older used her strength to raise Y/n back onto the counter, making her wrap her legs around Lisa’s waist and pulling her into her. Her grip tightened on Y/n’s slim waist while her other hand tangled in the silky hair at the back of the girl’s head, tilting her head and pushing her tongue between Y/n’s parted lips. 
The girl welcomed her into her mouth, swallowing Lisa’s tongue and sucking on it while her hands tugged onto the belt, blindly trying to unbuckle it. 
“God, you’re so eager,” Lisa grumbled after slowly pulling away with Y/n’s bottom lips between hers as she tugged on it before letting go. 
“I don’t have the whole night to waste on you.” Lisa could strangle the girl who knew how highly she stood above all. Lisa would always be a waste of time unless she would show her that she wasn’t. She was sure the girl had had her fair share of fun and that it would be hard to be the best, but Lisa always liked to prove herself. Her lips trailed Y/n’s smooth skin who tilted her head back, leaving her slim neck to be kissed along. 
“Waste?” Lisa questioned. Her words were a whisper in Y/n’s ear as she was right by her pulse point. Her tongue came out and the belt was undone, licking at the skin, being able to feel it pulse against her slick muscle before she wrapped her lips around the skin. It elicited a light sigh from Y/n who unzipped Lisa’s pants after undoing the button on them. 
“Unless you manage to impress me.” Y/n teased, teeth tugging Lisa’s ear who shivered at the gesture. Her hand came down from the back of her head to the back of her neck and she pulled Y/n away, making her look her in the eye. “Pretty eyes won’t work on me though.” Y/n continued, hand coming up to cup Lisa’s face, thumb running over her wet lips and tugging it down as she pulled her face closer to her. The two were a few mere inches away.
Anyone walking in and they both would be in trouble. 
Lisa would be in deep mud and her father’s business included if Y/n’s father found out that Lalisa Manoban had touched his princess. That the daughter of his biggest rival had touched his daughter. Lalisa Manoban would be dickless for the rest of her life. 
Too bad his daughter never followed the rules and was spoiled rotten.
Her thumb ran down to the woman’s chin and Lisa attached her lips right back onto Y/n’s. With that, her hands ran to the hem of the dress and she started to pull it up, bunching up its expensive material at the girl’s waist. Y/n’s fingers fiddled with the hem of the briefs, slowly inching inside them until her slender fingers wrapped around Lisa’s scalding cock that was warm and heavy in her hand. 
The small whimpers were muffled by Y/n’s mouth as the girl squeezed the length in her hand, stroking up and gathering precum that she smeared down the hard cock. It was followed by two thuds as she slipped off the designer heels to get off the sheer tights–Lisa had other plans. The material ripped when Lisa ran her hands between the girl’s thighs, tearing the thin black material apart.
“Not impressive,” Y/n mumbled as she pulled away from Lisa’s lips, the woman trying to chase for them but stopping at the way her tip got squeezed. The girl caught the way her eyelids almost fell closed and a moan pushed from the back of her throat. 
“Not everyone is here to please you.” Lisa rasped, gripping Y/n’s thigh and squeezing it in her hold while running the fingers of her other hand along the girl’s inner thigh. She could feel how she fought the way she wanted to close them at the teasing. It tugged at the corners of Lisa’s lips as the two stared at each other, Y/n slowly working the length in her hand while Lisa’s fingers brushed over the lace material. It worked a barely there sigh from the siren, Lisa being able to feel the slick slowly seep through the material of her underwear.
“Or maybe you just don’t know how to please me?” Y/n fueled a fire that grew in Lisa who slowly pushed the lace aside, her hips barely staying still as Y/n hadn’t stopped stroking her cock. The girl was making it hard for Lisa to stay nonchalant about this, making it hard to make it seem as if she wasn’t trying to impress her.
The girl caught how Lisa’s eyebrow twitched, fighting the dilemma she was in, but dismissed it for now. Her eyes focused on Y/n’s face when she ran her fingers through the girl's slit, parting her wet folds and smiling at the way her plump lips parted with a gasp. It made her hand movement stop as she removed her hand from Lisa’s briefs and grabbed hold of her forearm, the other clutched onto her shoulder.
The woman ran her slender fingers through the wet folds, slowly teasing the girl, wanting to put her through some suffering for what she had done. Lisa leaned in, pecking the parted lips, Y/n’s eyebrows creasing and her chest heaving at the way she was getting something, but not nearly enough. Lips pressed against hers, tracing to her cheek, and jaw before Lisa dipped her head and kissed along her neck all while taking in the small gasps that Y/n let out that were turning whiny.
“Fuck–” Y/n cursed, Lisa being stronger and not letting the girl guide her hand when she teased her two fingers over the swollen clit. She only nudged it and could feel nails dig into her forearm through the blazer. 
“What is it?” Lisa mocked, running her fingers down and circling the hole that was clenching as she gathered more of the slick. Y/n exhaled deeply through her nose and looked at Lisa who pulled away from her neck. There was a stupid smile on the woman’s lips, the younger unable to close her legs because Lisa was between them, the pressure growing and her clit only got circled again.
“Poor Y/n isn’t getting what she wants.” She said with a chuckle, hissing when the girl held onto the side of her neck and dug her nails into the skin. 
“Poor Lisa won’t get her dick wet if she doesn’t stop acting like an asshole.” 
Y/n was truly making it hard for Lisa to not obey her every word–
With a huff, Lisa dipped her hand down, two fingers intruding into the clenching hole and slowly pushing inside the heat that sucked her in and throbbed around her. 
Her eyes fell on the siren ones, it made her dick twitch at the look in her eyes, those parted lips glistening as each expression was so erotic that Lisa was ready to just pull her fingers out and replace them with her cock. Her fingers curled, being knuckles deep inside the girl’s pulsating cunt that tightened with each stroke and Y/n moaned as fingers pressed against the spongy spot.
“The daughter of an elite is having her pussy fingered in the middle of a charity event in a bathroom—You couldn’t get any hotter with how dirty you are.” Lisa caught Y/n’s lips right after, the kiss got sloppier as Y/n was doing a poor job of containing herself. Her moans bounced off the empty walls of the marble bathroom at the way Lisa was circling her clit with her thumb, rubbing against her wall and slowly the tension grew in her body. 
The girl was far from a saint, and Lisa was loving every second of it, especially since she was fucking thee Zhou Y/n. 
The squelching of her snug pussy mixed with her whimpering moans, Lisa doing scissoring motions to stretch and get her ready for her cock. “So good,” Y/n whined. She pulled away from Lisa’s mouth who licked her lips, collecting any saliva and getting another taste of what was left of the girl’s lip gloss. Her forehead fell on Lisa’s shoulder, scratching along her neck with each zap that ran across her spine and her hips merely bucked into the thumb that was playing with her aching nub. 
Lisa hummed at those words that were boosting her ego, but she wasn’t aware of the smile that tugged on Y/n’s lips. Her walls fluttered around the two fingers that were spreading her tight hole, caressing at her g-spot. Lisa looked in the mirror, mesmerised by the way Y/n’s back arched like a cat, her ridges perfect. 
“Shame that I’ve had better.” Y/n sighed, leaning into Lisa’s neck with her breath fanning the skin. She bit down and pulled, making Lisa groan at the pain as somewhere between the lines they still had to hate each other. “Fuck, you’re a bitch.” She sucked air through her teeth and grabbed Y/n’s shoulder, pulling her away from her neck. 
The girl let out a breathless giggle, the fingers still working her cunt and Lisa sped up her thrusts, watching the way it made Y/n’s press more into her.  The hand that gripped her forearm tightened around her and so did the walls as the girl let out whiny moans, being brought right to the edge with Lisa’s fingers deep within her walls.
“Oh–Oh fuck.” It started to wash over her, stomach tightening and Lisa slowed down her movement, removing some pressure from the girl’s clit. It made Y/n whine in frustration at the high that got disrupted, her snug walls now throbbing uncomfortably.
“You want to be a tease?” Y/n questioned, grabbing hold of Lisa’s blazer and pulling her into her, making Lisa stop fully. Her fingers pulled out of the snug confines of the slick pussy. The woman bit her lower lip, forehead pressed against Y/n’s while she ran the same hand down to her boxers.
“Who was teasing me under the table?” Lisa questioned, trying to catch Y/n’s lips again because they moved so smoothly against hers and the way the girl sucked on her tongue made her lightheaded. Y/n moved back though, leaving her to a chase that she lost when Y/n held her back. 
“I can’t help that everyone folds so easily for me, Lisa.” 
Y/n’s hand came over to Lisa’s helping her pull down the briefs as she closed the gap and caught Lisa’s upper lip between hers, having her lower one sucked by the older. It went smoothly as Lisa propped herself up by planting her palm against the mirror behind Y/n who led the swollen pinkish tip towards her sopping wet entrance. 
It made Lisa shudder and Y/n tugged on her lip at the stretch that came, thighs trying to close but were unable to with Lisa between them. 
“Can you take it all?” Lisa asked through a deep breath as she pushed her tip inside the walls that were squeezing hard enough to almost push her back out. The blazer bunched in Y/n’s fist by the woman’s frail shoulder and she wrapped her legs around Lisa’s waist.
“Don’t let it get into your head.” Y/n moaned at the way Lisa pushed everything in all at once at her answer. It shot a heat through her spine and she pulled her closer with her legs. The stretch came painfully yet it made her want more as Lisa slowly started to move her hips with a chuckle at the words. 
“Haven’t had anyone stretch you out good enough, fuck–I will make sure your pussy fits my cock perfectly.” Lisa groaned, wrapping her arm around the slim waist of the girl, holding her close and burying her face in the crook of her sweet neck as the scent drove that carnal desire further. 
Y/n’s moans grew louder within a few seconds as Lisa wasn’t waiting around. Her thrusts were slow and deep, going at a steady pace and the gasps were falling from Y/n’s lips. The girl’s back arched into her, pressing her chest against Lisa’s as her eyes closed. Each gasp and moan came right into Lisa’s ear. Grunts pushed through the back of her throat each time she fucked her cock right back into Y/n after pulling out as much as possible.
She rolled her hips in a perfect and hard rhythm, each time making the girl’s breath hitch. The walls were filled to the brim, her dick curved perfectly to rub at her g-spot and reach every single spot she needed to reach as her cock was stuffing Y/n perfectly. Lisa was losing her mind over how tight the girl was, fingertips pressing against the mirror as she groaned.
It was hard not to think about who exactly it was that Lisa was pounding her cock into. Y/n was moaning right under her, walls squeezing her cock, being able to feel the other throb with need after each stroke. The idea that this could end so badly drove Lisa even further, wanting to fuck Y/n good enough to want more of the thrill of fucking someone she shouldn’t.
“Fuck, Y/n, your pussy is so good, isn’t it—could fuck it right every day,” Lisa mumbled, her voice turning into a gruff one as she pulled away from the girl’s neck. 
“Have to make me come to fuck me again.” Y/n moaned out and it made Lisa run her hand away from her waist. Her fingers found back to the slick clit and Y/n leaned back, palms planted against the marble behind her. Her eyes were intense on Lisa’s who was still fucking her, each thrust making the girl move who unwrapped her legs and spread them further for the cock that was abusing her throbbing pussy. The eyes that looked in hers were in a full haze as Lisa was getting closer with each second.
“Gonna have you run back for more.” Lisa forced the word out with another grunt.
The eye contact broke as Y/n threw her head back, her back arched and heat covered her whole body. The cock inside her was throbbing, dragging along her snug walls, caressing them and the wetness was running down further with each of the thrusts.
Their moans grew louder, only hoping that no one would be heading towards the bathroom or walking past it as the event was in full force with the main part of it starting any second now. Yet it left them both curious about what would happen if someone did catch them. It only made them fuck that much better. The ruffling of their clothes mixed with the wet sounds of Y/n’s pussy and Lisa’s dick filling the clenching hole that was sucking her in. 
The woman leaned down, unable to keep herself away from the clavicle that was on full display for her and the little cleavage. Her lips wetly kissed along the skin, sucking gently to not leave any unwanted marks until she reached the soft cleavage of the girl. Gently she nipped at the skin, feeling the way it made Y/n squeeze her length and whine, her chest pressing more into Lisa’s face. 
“Close ‘m so close, Lisa.” Y/n cried, this time not wanting the high to end before it could peak. Lisa kept up the movement of her hips while sucking on the soft skin of Y/n’s chest. Probably leaving a hickey here and there after herself. 
“Fuck, come on squeeze my cock and come, Y/n.”
Her pussy clasped tightly around the hard cock, back arching and a train of moans slipping out of her mouth that grew in pitch. The tension grew hard enough to break and Y/n was right at the high before falling at such force that her eyes rolled back. Her thighs quivered around Lisa as they closed in on her again. She slowed down her movement, looking at Y/n who was heaving for air while coming undone before her.
Her stomach flexed to hold herself until Y/n gripped onto her to stop. The girl swallowed down her dry throat, whining at how Lisa was still fucking her through the uncomfortable aftershocks. 
“I’m gonna–” She was cut off, groaning when the girl pushed her back without a second thought. Her cock slipped out of the warmth of her and Lisa barely managed to grab hold of her dick before cum started to spurt out of her tip. Her hand balled into a fist as she planted it on the wall beside her after losing the leverage of the mirror. Y/n felt the warm cum splatter against her thigh, seeping through the sheer tights, staining more than them as Lisa had no aim whatsoever. 
“Great.” Y/n deadpanned, the woman was still lightheaded and trying to catch her breath when she got shoved back by the girl's foot against her thigh.
“What?” She breathed out, fingers gripping the wall to not fall as she looked down. The mess was on the girl’s black dress, covering the hem in her creamy and sticky cum–Lisa cringed at the amount she released, more than usual. It made her quickly tuck her cock back inside her pants, not having time to zip them up as she reached for the paper towels. The faucet turned on as she wet it before reaching over to the girl’s dress.
Y/n leaned back as she hadn’t been expecting it and rolled her eyes while waiting for Lisa to finish.
“Sorry.”
“Shut up,” Y/n said and clicked her tongue, looking at Lisa with a face that held disgust as she still didn’t like her despite the good orgasm she gave her. She pushed her back again and Lisa leaned against the wall while Y/n got down the counter to remove the sheer tights.
Lisa’s mind still trying to comprehend the fact that she had just fucked the girl everyone wanted to be or be with. She even ruined her dress. Lisa felt stupidly proud as she grinned.
Y/n discarded them in the trash and slipped her heels back on.
“You ruined my dress, time to cut the charity short so I can go home.” 
“What’re you doing?” She questioned the girl who walked over to the door and opened it. The big corridor was empty, but the loud chatter from the ballroom was still filling it as she followed right after Y/n who was looking through her clutch purse. Lisa’s eyes were glued to Y/n who was walking fine, more than fine as she looked like she was on a catwalk while Lisa’s legs felt numb. It made her lean against the door frame with a frown, unable to bring herself to walk much more just yet. Her hands quickly worked to button up her slacks before anyone would see her this messy.
Y/n turned to her with that devilish smile on her face as she stood by the wall opposite of Lisa.
Where Y/n went chaos followed. 
“It’s for a good cause, Lisa–here’s my card in case you ever need a job, I guess you could walk my dog or something.” Lisa’s eyes winded, a private business card being flicked at her chest before it fluttered onto the floor and she watched Y/n reach for the fire alarm. The blaring alarm went off, the chatter getting drowned out before it was followed by panicked voices, and fire sprinklers going off. Her eyes were on Y/n who was already walking away while Lisa subconsciously crouched down and reached for the card. People slowly starting to pile the corridor.
Lisa did text.
She just never got an answer.
343 notes · View notes
shadesoflsk · 5 months
Text
― don't slip, Leon !
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ft. Leon S. Kennedy x gn reader. summary: Just Leon trying out ice skating (and failing miserably.) There are brief mentions of angst and Leon's life as agent but overall this just fluff. author's note: This is going to be my last Christmas themed work. I may write something for New Years but I'm not sure. Fae if you see this, thank you for the amazing idea. ♡ wc: 1.7k
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The room fell silent as soon as those words left Leon’s lips. He wasn’t even thinking straight when he said what he said. He was being dramatic, of course. It’s been a while since he could take some well deserved vacations, and now Christmas spirit was making him excited to try new things.
Ice skating was one of them.
He was scrolling down on his cellphone ―which was brand new, his last one shattered into pieces by accident―  when he came across a video that started with a catchy phrase.
Things to do with your partner this Christmas!
Well… now that got his attention. Christmas plus you sounded amazing and since he wasn’t the most creative fella out there, this video will surely bring some ideas to his mind. 
His eyes locked on the screen as the person in the video kept listing off multiple suggestions. Most of them were alright, baking cookies, and watching Christmas movies. He had already done those things with you and while he did have fun, this holiday called for something more adventurous.
“Ice skating could be an amazing idea for both of you. If you are in the DC area, you could go to…”
He paused the video and looked over his shoulder. You were busy doing the dishes and he so naively thought you weren’t listening. You lifted your head and gave him a warm smile, resuming your task at hand. When he was sure the sound of the faucet would keep your ears filled, he played the video once again.
After a few seconds, the video cut off to another idea which Leon quickly dismissed. He had his mind set on the previous activity which made him imagine all types of scenarios. He had driven cars, buses, airplanes and bikes. But the idea of literally gliding on ice with skates instead of normal shoes made him hesitate. 
What if he falls? Falling and being thrown around in his area of work is a normal occurrence for him. But falling in front of several people because the old man can’t walk on ice sent shivers down his spine. How embarrassing. 
“But ice skating sounds so fun…”
His lips moved on his own, unaware that his thoughts were voiced out loud. And that brought him to the situation which he was facing right now.
“What did you say?” You ask, leaning over the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. Your smirk tells him enough, you have been eavesdropping to both the video and him.
“Nothing.” He clears his throat while turning off his cellphone. While he was dying to try ice skating, there was no way he would tell you. Yeah, he was so excited at first but now his own mind played dirty tricks on him, making him aware of his age and the consequences that would bruise his ego and self esteem.
“So ice skating it is…” You laugh as you walk towards the couch where Leon was sitting. He scooted over, making some space for you. “Come on, it will be fun.” Now you were the one who was excited to go. The idea of trying new things with your boyfriend was always at the back of your head and you thank God for popping that video on his Instagram feed.
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He doesn’t know how or when he agreed. The only thing he knew was that you were talking to the guy who was teaching you how to put on the skaters. His mind was blank, like a cat who was just staring at its bowl of food. He knows he was the one who brought up the idea, but now seeing everyone mastering the art of gliding across the ice made his fingers twitch in nervousness.
He’s definitely going to fall in front of everyone, his pride as an agent will be destroyed and―
“Leon!” You call out for him. You motion him to follow your lead. Your smile reaches your eyes and he can’t help but smile too. Maybe he will do just fine with your help.
He was mistaken.
You were in your element, as soon as you stepped into the designated area to skate, you left him to his own devices. How could you be so cruel? He thought while taking deep breaths. 
In reality, you haven’t gone too far. This date was between you and Leon alone, but the desire of teasing him for a while was itching you.
As Leon watches the person who was supposed to teach him, he decides to take the first step by himself. 
Another mistake. 
Clinging for dear life on the walls, a kid next to him observes him carefully before tapping him on his back.
“Sir, are you alright?” He asks with a troubled expression on his face. 
Yes, thank you very much. That's what he wanted to say. Spare him the embarrassment, little one. 
He takes a deep breath, again. He glances from where you are to the kid who seemed so interested and worried about him.
“Yeah. Thank you for asking. Shouldn't you be with your mom? This is quite dangerous, you see.”
He tries to be a responsible adult. The one who advises the little one that he could fall if he doesn't know how to skate. Of course a kid his age wouldn't know how to skate on ice, right?
“Mommy is actually paying so I can stay a bit more.”
Ouch, Leon's ego was hurt. He had fought bioweapons, dealt with many messed up villains  and faced many adversities yet a little kid slapped him back to reality. 
“You can do it, sir.” The boy innocently reassured Leon. For a kid, it must be quite an amazing achievement to help an adult. From afar you watched as a little child helped your boyfriend. An amused smile plastered on your face.
You skate your way over to your boyfriend. The little one still holding his hand but not daring to go further, knowing that if he did, Leon would fall and therefore him too.
“Hey.” You wave at both of them, Leon giving you a glare that doesn't match his eyes and his  new friend waves back politely.
“Your friend needs help.” He says in a monotone tone, it appears that his patience has grown thin over the course of a couple of seconds. Poor kid had just babysat a federal agent, life’s unfair.
His little frame disappeared as he entered the ice rink. You were left alone with your boyfriend, a worried expression on his face.
“You look like a scaredy cat.”
“No, I do not.”
“Yes you do.”
“....”
You sigh and roll your eyes, it’s impossible to win an argument with him. Carefully, your hands grab his forearms and gently pull him to the ice rink. 
He’s still stressed about the imminent fall that may occur if he steps into the cold area, but as you reach for him, his features slightly relaxed. 
Slowly, he glides over and lets you guide him. You have to hold back a laugh as you witness your boyfriend ― who most of the time looks like a big bear ― stand like a newborn deer. 
“If I hear you laughing we’re breaking up…” He threatens you, giving you a glare but not daring to sound more bitter, in case you’re heartless enough to leave him to his own devices. Again.
“Me? Laughing at you? As if.” Your lips tugged into a smirk but your hands never left his arms. Even if you sound sarcastic, you wouldn’t let him fall. 
You start pulling him forward, he follows your lead as he eyebrows furrowed, trying his best to keep his balance.
He reminds himself that this is what he wanted. After seeing that video a few hours ago, his mind instantly teleported to where he’s standing now. He lifts his head, now looking at you instead of his feet, he was met with a glee expression. 
It’s been a while since his life has gotten more normal, typical even. He loves and enjoys normalcy, and that is why he indulges in this moment. Away from missions, bloodshed and violence.
You begin moving backwards, your eyes darting from your boyfriend to your back, trying to avoid crashing into someone. 
“See? You’re a natural!” You praise him, internally acknowledging that he was no expert, his legs were bent in a weird angle but it helped him to stay on his feet.
Watching a tough agent, standing like bambi wasn’t on your list of things you wanted to see before you die. But now, it surely is one of your favorite experiences. Throughout his life, he was expected to teach, not be taught. He was supposed to know how to do something and master that in the blink of an eye, no time spared and surely no patience given.
But now, as you so eagerly guide him, he can't help but be so damn thankful that he has the opportunity to spend this holiday with you and not somewhere else, praying not to be killed.
Eventually, he gets the hang of it. He’s still not the best, falling from time to time dragging you with him. In the midst of your laughing, you told him to be careful, falls at his age are something to worry about and not a laughing matter. He huffs, explaining that he's still pretty young.
It was heartwarming, knowing that Leon could still relax and forget about his past for a while. You had seen him at his worst ― eyes empty with no desire to keep going. But you have also accompanied when life gave him another chance. From that depressed and soulless person to this tough but gentle agent, who is now giggling like a child. Maybe even healing his inner child.
And after falling, getting up, and falling again, you get exhausted from the step by step skating routine. Leon never let go of your hand. And at that point, it wasn’t to prevent himself from falling, since he would have fallen nonetheless.
“Wanna go home?” You ask him, your gloved hands reaching for his face as he stands steadily. 
“Yeah, my butt hurts.” He lets out a groan but in his eyes there’s a childlike glimmer. This little date had really healed something in him.
“Poor you.” You coo as you press a tiny kiss on his cold nose. “I’ll prepare you hot chocolate, don’t you worry.”
Hand in hand, both of you exited the ice rink, grateful for the joy this little activity brought to your hearts. Maybe next year, life will be generous enough to grant him another wish.
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zeroxxlhero · 4 months
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Mean Girl Headcannons
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Warnings: Caste AU, modern universe, loosely based off of Mean Girls, reader is tall, enemies to enemies with benefits, mentions of sex, underage drinking, rich! bitch! Historia, delinquent! Reader, use of marijuana
Pairings: Historia Reiss x You
Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin (Attack on Titan)
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Mean girl Headcannons would include:
Historia immediately disliked you from the start. Because what do you mean this 6’4 tall bastard called Hitch a bitch to her face and walked off like she didn’t know who the fuck she was?
She could never catch you alone because you’re always suspended from fighting or skipping class so whenever you do come to school, she makes it her mission to make your time here complete shit.
Tries, miserably, and somehow ends up embarrassed but strangely turned on because she’s never had someone put their foot down and tell her off.
You two argue all the time. Every. Single. Day. Like, as soon as she sees your face, she goes to insulting you and you’re quick with the same treatment, not caring who her or her family was. The teachers have to pause the lesson and get you two calmed down, which takes at least 30 minutes. Mr. Ackerman has to put you in a separate class each day because he doesn’t want to hear any of it.
LOVES flaunting her body off to you because she knows you want her despite how much you say you don’t. Relishes the way you squirm and get embarrassed when you try to hide a boner because her skirt is too short or her tits were spilling from her shirt.
HATES when you flirt with girls. She absolutely loathes it. Because you were going to be hers and she would make sure it stays that way. Bullies the girls you’re talking to and sometimes even threaten them with blackmail.
Whenever you do get embarrassed by whatever she said, she makes it her mission to show everyone and turn you into the school’s laughing stock. You get pissed and end up fighting some random guy that tried picking on you, only getting yourself suspended.
A weirdo that somehow knows where you live. Also, know what type of snacks and clothes you like. Also pays close attention to your interests and hobbies. If you see anything that you like but if you can’t get it, don’t worry, she’ll get it for you. Tries to be lowkey about it but you don’t know anyone else that would willingly spend money on stuff like that. Plus, there was only one person you knew who had the luxury of doing so.
Subtly invites you to parties. She’ll get someone that knows someone to invite you and sometimes you come, sometimes you don’t. When you do, you’re drowning yourself in shots and more liquor than you can handle. And when that happens, you always end up in one of the Reiss guest bedrooms.
Hates people pointing out that she likes you. Will yell and scream on behalf of her defense but will tell them to “shut the fuck up” most of the time. Only tolerates it from her close friends. Anyone else and she’s having the whole school on their ass.
The only time you two can relax around each other is when you smoke a blunt or two together. Either it’s in complete silence or you’re mouthing off to each other. All the teachers know you two smoke marijuana but they don’t say anything for the sake of keeping their jobs.
NSFW:
God forbids if you ever do snap and decide to pounce on the blonde out of frustration.
She’s nowhere near ready because you’re so much taller than her and your cock was definitely too big, so she’s intimidated. Can really only take up to 4 inches, maybe 5 but you’re around 6
Tries to be a brat about who’s on top but ends up with her face down into the pillow and her ass up, whining because you’re stretching her out and it hurts so good.
Purposely riles you up to have you slam her against the wall and fuck her until she goes quiet. Always apologizes during it but never truly meaning it, no matter how sorry she sounds.
Brags about how good she’s able to suck dick but she’s always choking on yours. Can barely get in half before she’s gagging and has tears running down her eyes, her throat raw and aching when you finally finish. People always ask why her voice is so choppy the next day…
Loves having her ass slapped and being degraded. Will submit instantly.
But praising is another story. Call her pretty and the girl will literally melt and have her feeling like she’s on cloud 9.
Definitely a squirter. Embarrassed about it because she’s never done it with anyone but you. Doesn’t happen every time but it’s frequently.
Could care less where you cum, rather it be in her, on her ass, her tits, or her face, she doesn’t care. She loves it either way. And if something was to happen, she could just throw money at it to get rid of the problem.
Kinks: Bondage, Impact Play, Asphyxiation, Masochism, DIY porn, Public Sex, Humiliation
Overall, Historia is a little shit and likes to annoy you while being a submissive bottom.
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prettyboykatsuki · 1 year
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okay fr what do you think scara is like in bed? what’s he into, what’re his kinks, the whole shebang?
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modern scaramouche hc's
✭ tags ; sub!chara, dom!reader (they bottom but parts are unspecificed so gn!reader as well), this is also my modern!scaramouche take so just be aware, bratting, rough sex, slapping, hitting, a lil degradation, reader is v careful abt scaramouches boundaries tho, romantic implications reader is stronger than scara + he is short king, etc
✭ wc ; 2.1k (im soooo ashamed. anon im so sorry)
✭ a/n ; this got so out of hand so quickly. this is my personal scaramouche this has nothing to do with anyone but me and my delusions sorry in advance.
like really. cant describe how subjective this is but i also refuse to change my mind or see him any other way. thank u so much for inquiring
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my modern scaramouche is usually aged like. 20-something in college. he goes to a nice university (a very competitive school mind you.) he was really concerned about excelling for like most of his hs career. kind of a loner except tartaglia who adopted him into his friend group.
he panics about his degree for the longest time cause he doesn't know what to do - but settles on civil architecture and minors in fine art.
he has his ears pierced and some other piercings too that he was peer pressured into, but overall likes how they look. he's not usually very dressed up and all of his closet is so oversized because comfort > fashion BUT he never looks like a slob either.
has like 3 other friends on campus (kazuha + mona + childe who somehow followed him there)
complicated relationship with his mom + stepmom (he doesn't hate her but they do not communicate so tons of misunderstandings between them. like sooo many)
and. usually not actively looking to date anyone ever. he had like one crush one time in highschool but chickened out so miserably and SEETHED about it the whole time.
after that he swore to never, ever, ever go back to that dark place and sort of just focused on his career and school. his major is pretty difficult so it takes a lot of his time
plus he's a little pretentious, stuck up little shit so only a few people can handle him in the first place.
anyways. u meet through tartaglia who thinks you two will get along really well (and he's trying to set you both up bc he thinks you two could work well together)
its honestly like oil and water. you're personality just rubs him the wrong way. sure childe is annoying, but he's stupid
you're...not stupid. you're kind of clever and you treat him with like. a sense of disrespect he hates. scaramouche is used to people who let him have the upperhand
but you're always pretty quick to shoot him down. you never let him him get away with anything and you guys have this like... insane back and forth for months
its the slowest of burns. he swears he hates you.
(he doesn't though. he thinks its really fucking attractive that you talk back to him and don't let him intimidate you ever. but he loathes that feeling. he also loathes how nice your laugh is and how easy it is to talk to you)
scaramouche spends. AGES. ages in denial. closes his eyes to it. its like 6 months deep into it - he starts having wet dreams and he wakes up HORRIFIED with himself.
WORSE? scaramouche knows about your sex life. not through you but through observation and gossip. he's not fucking you in the dreams. you're fucking him.
humiliated, he simply tries to ignore it. but it's making him so much moody than usual and because you two spend so much time together - you notice almost right away. of course you do.
"whats got your panties in a twist lately? not that you're usually sunshine and rainbows but you're acting like a little kid"
scaramouche says something mean. like, really mean in response. he's just so frustrated. its a personal jab, farther than he'd usually go.
he's expecting to sabotage himself you know? he does that sometimes. pushes people away when they get too close. it's a miracle he has any friends. he's expecting you to get annoyed and leave.
but there's this like. chill to your voice. and you're looking straight at him.
"you don't talk to me like that, understand? i don't care how shitty your mood is."
one hit k.o. he can't even breathe. what's wrong with him and what is happening to him, and holy shit why do you sound like that.
"sorry," he apologizes (him. he's apologizing first) "just. frustrating,"
and you immediately slink back to your usual self. and he's relieved and a little excited and just overall restless because he can't stop thinking about what just happened.
"it's fine. i like being on your ass or whatever but it's bothering me that you're so moody. maybe you really do need to get laid,"
the joke is one you often to make. it's meant to lighten the mood. but scaramouche is feeling pent-up and horny and that's kind of exactly what he needs
"s-shut up. it's not like you're going to do it,"
internally he's hoping you take the bait. he is equal parts horrified and excited watching you take in the information. you give him a lazy smile as you sit up and look at him.
"huh. do you...want me to do it?"
oh dear god. oh fuck.
"so what if i did?"
and then you laugh, which he can't decipher. he's gearing himself to be made fun of. he watches you with big wide yes as you come sit on the desk near him. feels your fingers trail his jaw and tilt his head up and holy shit he might really die.
he can barely look up at you.
"is that why you've been acting weird for last couple of weeks?" your voice is so smug and scaramouche is so turned on it's stupid. he hates it. hates himself. hates everything
"shut up,"
and then, you grab his chin. really make him look at you and it's startling but he doesn't pull away. you look gleeful.
"that why you've been running with your tail between your legs when you see me?" you hum, your eyes almost predatory "cause you want me to fuck you?"
its times like this scaramouche he could be honest. because that's exactly what he wants, but he hates having to say it.
"as if you could satisfy me," he says, instead. your eyes widen, and it takes you a minute to register it all in your head.
"you're such a fucking brat," you say, light. affectionate, really. it makes his heart pump "you think i can't?"
"i'd like to see you try," he says, absolutely and utterly in disbelief internally. you grin.
"can i kiss you?"
"why're you asking?"
"cause im an asshole, not a villain,"
you and scaramouche makeout in a study room before he decides to to get ahold of himself and invites you into his dorm. he's never been so thankful in his life that his roomate is gone.
when you get scaramouche into bed - it really dawns on him how out of his element he is. he's not a virgin - a few awkward and usually bad hook-ups in his repertoire.
but you're not like them. he's bitey and on edge but you handle him. ask for permission for little things, clarifications for what he's okay with. you're thoughtful, despite how much he's lashing out.
and it's turning scaramouche so much he doesn't know how to handle it other than doing it again. he wants to provoke you so much. he wants to put him in his place over and over.
it's mid makeout he pulls away, frustration all-welled up inside him that he asks. he's hard and needy and needs something to get him off.
"i knew you were all talk," he sneers, putting as much of himself in it as he can "this is nothing,"
you look at him very seriously "you're really asking for it, huh," you say with a sigh "do you know what you're getting into?"
"nothing serious obviously,"
"usually when i deal with brats like you, i treat 'em real rough. im being nice to you cause you're so pent up, but it's like you don't want that," you grab his face again, getting close and personal this time and scaramouche feels like he'll collapse "want me to treat you mean and put you in your place? hit you and make you cry?"
oh it ruins his life. that's exactly what he wants. what he needs from you so much it aches. so much he chokes.
"wh-what the hell are-"
but you make him face forward, look you in your eyes.
"your first lesson is answer me when i talk to you. is that what you want? you can nod if you can't say it,"
so he nods and you laugh.
"yeah? should smack the brat outta you shouldn't i?
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you're asking for permission. despite his everything, there's something affectionate about it. he feels his stomach twist with desire.
"just fucking do it already,"
"tell me if you need to stop,"
"i said—"
it's unceremonious, really. when scaramouche feels the palm of your hands on his cheek, landing heavy and hard as you push him back against the bed. you hit him.
he liked it. makes his cock throb in his fucking jeans, feeling the sting.
"your second lesson is don't fucking mouth at me," you practically spit. there's some roughness in your actions that make scaramouche keen as you crawl on top of him "can't even deal with your moods without lashing out."
scaramouche feels his stomach churn as your hands make rough work of him. you pin his wrists over his head, tell him to keep it there.
and of course he refuses, disobeys - gets to feel how strong you actually are when you spit the words back in his face again to hold fucking still.
scaramouche keeps doing it. keeps pushing until you have to put him back where he belongs forcibly. he doesn't know that he's doing it
but he wants something he can't name, a desire that aches so deep in his chest. he wants you to take responsibility for him - like a promise of some kind.
he likes the way your mouth feels on his skin. your teeth feel so good sinking into pale flesh. the scratch of your nails and sting of your palms as you spank and hit and push his body.
you manhandle him so fucking easily, putting him in every position you can think of. on his knees, or his back - naked and waiting.
you tease scaramouche till he's honest, your voice coarse until he starts giving in.
you're so good with your hands. your fingers, your mouth. you know just the right things to get him all squirmy - praising him when he's getting desperate towards the end.
his sense of shame nowhere to be found as he gets close to the edge. as you tip him over it, he can feel all the tension bleed out of him. goes from bitching, to whiny - needy and not above begging.
he doesn't even understand it. can't wrap his head around it all the way - lets you guide him through the feeling as he starts feeling pliant.
you let him fuck you with mercy. don't make him work for it, just sit on his cock and tell him that he looks so much better when he's all messed up for you and he just. melts completely. like feels like he's gonna fall through the floor.
he cries when he cums. sobs a little as he finally gets relief then melts into your bed like a pile of wet sand as you finish yourself off and overstimulate him a little in the process.
after all is said and done - he falls asleep basically immediately after the high.
when he wakes up the next day - you haven't left. he's like kind of nuzzled up in your arms (which. is wild bc he has always hated physical touch but? apparently not with you)
when you stir awake, you're immediately whistling. you even press a kiss to his forehead and brush his hair out of his face.
"you awake? feel okay?" you hum, so stupidly tender and scaramouche has to fight every urge to push you away.
"im...fine. you're still here," he says unhelpfully. you chuckle.
"yeah. figured you would start spiraling if i left in the middle of the night"
he is horrified at the accuracy.
"it's weird when you're being all...nice to me,"
"its a lot easier since i realize you just wanted to be put in your place," you say with a knowing him. scaramouche elbows you "it's cute, it's cute. don't kill me,"
"you're annoying,"
"yeah, i know. i wiped you down a bit but we should shower and i gotta make sure you're not too hurt anywhere,"
"i'm not a flower,"
"i was bein' pretty rough and its my job to take care of you,"
"why would that be your job?"
"cause im a responsible sexual partner and we're seeing each other, i figure?"
he flushes at the implication. he doesn't want to think about it as he cuddles himself into your side. ugh. whatever.
"who said that?"
"do you want me to see other people?"
"i'll kill you,"
"that's what i thought,"
scaramouche hates it but does not have the confidence to protest you.
scaramouche realizes with the weight of the world on his shoulders that he is the most submissive brat in the fucking world
he decides not to think about it for a while
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gabessquishytum · 3 months
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Hob is an interior designer for the ultra rich; he moves furniture around to lighten "engeries" and increase "flow". It's a hodgepodge of bastardized fung shui and geometry, because Hob is a conman. And thief.
His interior design persona and "firm" was a cover Hob was using to case some rich asshole's house. Hob wasn't even trying to sell the bit really, he moved a single chair, but after the job (this guy was obliviously so rich that he hasn't seemed to notice Hob's theft 🤷🏽‍♀️) Hob's mark recommended him to his other rich douche friends.
So high-end interior design is now Hob's side hustle. He's still a thief and conman, but now he's legally (sort of) conning marks. Hob is just as surprised as you.
He has just been hired to design the new bachelor pad for one Dream Endless - artist, socialite, philanthropist. If the name sounds familiar, it's because he just had an amazingly loud divorce play out in the press from partner no. 3 (there were two other marriages and one kidlet, for Mr. Endless). And it seems like the ex got all the friends and support in the divorce.
Hob was hired by some assistant, a Matthew, so he's yet to meet Mr. Endless, but if the various paparazzi photos are right, he should certainly be nice to look at.
Yeah, those paparazzi photos did not do him justice -- watching Dream swim in little tiny speedos is Hob's new religion. If Hob were a better man, he wouldn't be scheming to become Mr. Endless the 4th.
Mr Endless the 4th... and hopefully the last. I reckon Hob will want to stick around! I am absolutely tickled by this au, tbh. I think Hob needs to keep on scamming rich people and stealing their furniture as much as he wants.
Dream's requests for the design were basically "I want it all to be black" and also "leave me alone when I'm doing my art" - two things that Hob is a little bit disappointed about. He doesn't really care about interior design, but all black? Minimalism? Dream deserves better. And Hob definitely doesn't want to leave him alone! But if he can at least watch Dream, that's good enough for now.
He makes a few adjustments to what Dream requested. There's plenty of black, sure, but there's also stained glass and light streaming into the apartment. There's beautiful stone flooring in the kitchen (heated, of course). Hob gets the most amazing four poster bed for his new favourite client, all silk sheets and black-out curtains. He spends all day dreaming about making sweet love to Mr Endless in between those sheets.
And Dream seems to be getting used to having Hob around. Plus he begrudgingly approves of his design choices. Eventually he opens up about his miserable dating life, and Hob is always so sympathetic. He doesn't lay it on too thick (Dream is smart enough to spot a gold-digger!), he's just kind. Is Dream really making him into a better person?!
Well, maybe not. Hob is still a thief, and he's definitely still scamming his clients with the whole "vibrations" thing. He's also definitely perving on Mr Endess in the swimming pool. But when Dream does finally make a move and shyly kisses Hob while inspecting the latest updates to the interior design... Hob takes him to bed very gently. He lays Dream out on the silky sheets and fucks him so sweetly, so lovingly, telling him how worthy and beautiful he is. Things that Dream has never heard before.
Hob settles into the bed when Dream falls asleep on him afterwards - and rest assured, he intends to stay. Hopefully with a ring on his finger. But he's not getting ahead of himself, don't you worry.
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lanitalay · 3 months
Text
One Day : Chapter 4
Azriel x reader : based on the netflix series by the same name
warnings: lil ansgty
Word Count: 1.1k
Masterlist
This day used to be your favorite. For years you looked forward to having fun on the longest day of the year with the people you loved. But it's been twenty five years since Amarantha locked all of the High Lords Under the Mountain. Twenty five years since Rhys made Velaris impenetrable. Twenty five years since you’ve seen any of your friends, your family, from the Night Court. Twenty five years of fae becoming sicker, life becoming duller. All of the holidays made you feel miserable, but this one in particular. At least with Winter Solstice the weather matched your gloom, but on this day the sun is shining like nothing is wrong. A mockery, really. 
So you do as you usually do. Go to the office where fae seek help getting better. Do whatever you can with the little magic you have left. Hope that the tonics, lotions and powders make up for what you have lacked for so long now. Then return to the cottage. Bolting the door, shutting the blinds and collapsing on your bed. Mentally preparing to do it all again the next day.  Today you avoid everything except your bed, because last time you celebrated the Summer Solstice it had been with Azriel. 
Azriel who you had loved for three decades. Azriel who was so excited when you told him Thesan found a replacement for you and you were to return to Velaris. Azriel who was upset when he came to help you move because Thesan asked you to train your replacement while he went to the party Amarantha was throwing. Azriel who told you to stop being so spineless. Azriel, who’s eyes darkened when you said that your world doesn’t revolve around him or his whims. Azriel who left with a slam of the door. 
The blankets felt like a prison cell around you but there was no way you’d take your face out of them. The frames on the wall of people you can’t be sure are still alive glare extra harshly in the Solstice sun. Bec’s babe, now a woman grown. You’d missed the chance to see her grow up. Maybe she’s had more children. Maybe she’d forgotten about you. You hope they are safe. Pray that if you can’t get in neither can anything else.
You feel the bed dip beside you as Lenus lays down. “I made soup.” Of course he had, because he knew that today you would be in a state and he thinks that soup will soothe your soul. He stays there for a while, just keeping you company and you know he means well but he’s the last person you want to speak to today. Because he was Lenus who got in the way. He was the reason Azriel had become more distant in the few months before Amarantha’s reign began. “You haven’t visited in months, Az.” You remember telling him. “I don’t want to interrupt you and Lenus.”
“That’s ridiculous, you’re always welcome in my house. Plus Lenus doesn’t get most of the references I make so I have to constantly explain my-” 
“Y/n, please.” 
“What?” 
“I’m happy for you, I really am but I can’t.”
“I’m- what are you talking about?” You remember that breath he took like it was your own. 
“I can’t watch you be with him. It’s unfair of me, I know, but it kills me.”
And what could you say? “Oh, I- I didn’t know.” 
The guilt was the worst. Because Thesan asked you to stay, but you only said yes to get an extra week with Lenus. By now he knows you resent him for it. He won’t hold it against you, at least not openly. Yet, you’ve caught him looking at sunsets as his eyes sparkle for possibility, hope and maybe someone else. Until he looks at you, and the sparkle fades to his usual shade of brown. 
Azriel spent this day training. Letting Cassian command him to his most extreme exercises and doing them without complaint. Because this used to be your day but for a quarter of a century it has been a wound that wouldn’t heal. After training he will fly across the city until exhaustion lets him fall asleep.
He unfortunately wakes up just as the sun is setting. Mor banging on his door. “You have to eat!” 
They don’t celebrate anything anymore. Not with Rhysand gone. Not when you're gone as well. “It wouldn’t count without them.” Cassian had said the first time a holiday came around. So they treat it like any other day. Trying to keep Velaris running without its High Lord. Azriel trying to stay afloat without half of his heart.
He’ll join Mor and Cassian for dinner. They’ll eat in silence until Cassian breaks it “you remember when y/n first met Rhys?” Mor smiles a little “she was so nervous” she adds with a little laugh. 
“She was all like High Lords are not meant to get sick, this is not taught to us in training-” Cassian properly laughs recalling. 
Even Azriel can’t help but add “and then her face when she realized he was just constipated.” 
Mor cackles “he never ate vegetables until then.”
They quiet down. Azriel half hoped that you would punch his arm and say something like “it wasn’t funny, Az!” but your chair is empty and so is Rhysand's. 
“It’s not the same without them here.” Cassian was always the first to say it. Azriel knew they all missed them. He suspected Amren skipped out on these dinners because she felt some sadness for the current situation. Even if she would not admit it. 
“Do you think y/n got married? Maybe even had a baby?” Mor asked absentmindedly and Cassian kicked her under the table. 
“I’m sure she would never get married or have a kid with how things are now.” The general said pointedly. Azriel thought it was sweet of Cassian to watch out for his feelings like that.  But they were questions he had asked himself a million times before.
If you had a child he would no doubt adore it, but if you’d gotten married… He hates the way his heart twists when he thinks of that possibility. Last time he saw you, you were in love and in a healthy relationship.
But he doesn’t like thinking of the last time he saw you. How he walked out, slammed the door. Your jaw tight and brows furrowed. He regrets so much of that day.  What he said, how he acted. More importantly, he regrets that he didn’t crawl back immediately and beg for your forgiveness.
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thezombieprostitute · 2 months
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Good moaning. 😇
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A/N: Sorry this took awhile @navybrat817. The muses weren't working with me.
A/N2: Reader is AFAB, Tall & Plus Size; Ended up working through a lot of my own insecurities on this one. Left it open ended because it's a lot longer than it should've been. It was supposed to be open ended but then Hal insisted on showing off.
Part 2
Word Count: ~1.2k
Warnings: Insecure reader. Please let me know if I missed any.
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Hal had always been the most notorious flirt in the office. Every woman had been complimented, flirted with, made to blush by him. Except you. When it came to you, Hal was all business. Maybe some friendly gestures, but that was it.
You should be used to it by now. You'll never forget in high school when your crush said, "I just never thought of you as a girl. I don't think of you as guy," he was quick to say, "but I just don't think of you as a girl." And it seems to have been the same for every guy, every crush, ever since.
Dating apps only seemed to make things worse. You'd be really getting along with someone, they'd talk about how personality is more important, but as soon as they actually saw you, their demeanor shifted. They always just wanted to be friends. You were pretty sure spinsterhood was your only option. Especially if even the Hal Carter wasn't willing to flirt with you.
"You should be grateful," some of your friends would chide you. "You don't have to worry about being harassed or assaulted." And you were grateful that those weren't concerns for you. But you weren't bemoaning a lack of problems, you were bemoaning an abundance of loneliness.
"Hey, Y/N," Hal's voice snapped you out of your self-pity party.
"Yes, Hal?"
"Do you have the specs for that Potts order? I need to double check a few things."
"Sure thing," you nod as you go to the filing cabinet. You find the paperwork he needs and hand it to him.
"Are you alright," he asks.
"No different than usual. Why?"
"You just...you seem...um. How do I put this?"
"Hal, please just tell me I look miserable and get back to work? I'm not in the mood for beating around the bush. I'm painfully well aware of how I look." You're struggling to keep the tears at bay and just want him to leave you be.
"Is there anything I can do? I hate to see you like this."
"No, Hal, there's nothing you, personally, can do. I'm just having a self-pity party after yet another bad date and I need to be left alone."
"You're dating?" His face is filled with genuine surprise and it's the straw that breaks you. You stop fighting the tears and just run to the bathroom to let it all out in private.
By the time you're done crying you're exhausted. You should get back to work but you just can't fathom spending more time around people. You get back to your desk, send a note to your boss and head home early. You're just gonna let yourself cry and sleep it out.
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When you get to work the next day there's a bouquet of blue hyacinth and white lily-of-the-valley flowers. The card had a simple "I'm sorry" card signed by Hal. You really should apologize to him, it wasn't his fault. It was just really shitty timing. Still, you appreciate the flowers. You can't remember the last time anyone got you any.
You get into the flow of work, catching up on things you missed yesterday, so you don't notice Hal slowly making his way to your desk, like he's afraid you'll lash out. When you finally look up and see him, you give him a soft smile and he takes that as an okay signal to close the distance to your desk.
"Thank you for the flowers, Hal," you start. "You really didn't need to. You did nothing wrong."
"I ask you a question and you leave crying," Hal huffs. "Pretty sure that means I did something wrong."
"Believe me, Hal, if it was something you did, I'd have told you." You shake your head, "it's just me being overly sensitive. And I'm sorry I worried you or made you feel it was your fault. You don't deserve that."
"So, you're single and looking," Hal slowly says.
"For now," you sigh. "Seriously contemplating giving up but I just can never bring myself to ever fully give up hope. No matter how many times I get hurt."
"Maybe it's your technique," he offers. "If you need help with your flirting, just let me know. I can teach you a few things."
Against your better judgment you open up the dating app and the messages you shared from the last guy you met for a date. You show them to Hal and tell him how you could've done better.
"Huh, you're a smart cookie," he says. "Talking to this guy about smart stuff that definitely goes over my head. Why didn't he work out?"
Trying not to lose patience, he is just trying to help, you calmly tell him, "because he saw me. That's how it always goes, Hal. I'm not pretty enough. I don't fit into any of the molds that define 'attractive'. I never hide my build, my picture, but there must be quite the difference between photos and real life."
"Sounds like your problem is that you keeping attracting douchebags," Hal observed. "Just need to find yourself a good man."
"If it were that easy, I wouldn't be so lonely."
"You don't think I'm a good man?" He seems genuinely upset by this thought.
"Hal, please be careful because I don't want to cry at work again," you start. "Regardless of whether or not you're a good guy, you've never once expressed interest in me, so why would it matter if you were a douchebag or not?"
"This is definitely my fuck up," he sighs. "I was trying to be respectful of you. I was trying to treat you differently to show I think about you differently."
"Yes," you agree. "That came through loud and clear. You want to be workplace friends at most. I understand that. It's not a fuck up."
"No, not like that," Hal counters. "I...I flirt with everyone but you because I didn't want you to think I thought of you as just another pretty face. I kept it professional with you so you would know that I am respectful of you as a person. That I appreciate working with you and don't want us to get separated because the boss thinks I'm doing more flirting than working."
"I don't want your pity, Hal," you scold him. "If you're not interested, you're not interested. I don't blame you! But a pity flirt? That's hurtful."
Instead of backing down, Hal puts both hands on your desk and leans closer towards you, neither of you breaking eye contact. Your eyes are filled with a simmering anger and his beautiful blues are steely with determination. "I will prove to you, however I need to, that my feelings and intentions are genuine."
"I need to get back to work," you reply with ice in your voice.
"Challenge accepted, Dandelion," Hal smirks before leaving you to your work.
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Part 2
Tagging @alicedopey and @icefrozendeadlyqueen because I promised I would
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cherry1sblog · 9 months
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PART 2
PAIRING: Lee heeseung × fem!reader . a
GENRES:smut, fluff, bullying, alcohol,party,unprotect ed sex (rember to wrap your Willy so the out come won't be silly
WARNINGS there is bullying in this heeseung is basically a dick to y/n and nothing in this story is real!!! This is fan fiction and the way I write about heeseung is not the way I portray him as he's a person himself this is simply for entertainment only !!
SUMMARY:heeseung had always bullied you through your 3 years of Highschool but never let anyone touch you other then him and if he found out someone did that was the end of it you were basically marked as his toy that's until the summer of your junior year you had enough you were done with him always making fun of you and you hated the fact that after all he did I to you you still adored him and liked him but it dosent matter cause you wanted to leave your senior year with a banger so you were no longer your nerdy self still smart asf obvi but appearance wise different you got contacts new clothes thank god you guys didn't have a dress code and most importantly you spent all summer learning how to do your makeup..
RECAP….
y/n and sunghoon on the couch asleep "holy shit heeseung hyung is not gonna be happy" jungwon picked you up and ran with you on his back you being confused when jungwon locked his door and threw you on the bed *WHAT TH-
" jungwon covers your mouth muffling your yelling until you stoped "shut the fuck up unless you want to make heeseung hyung and sunghoon hyung hate eachother more right now " honestly you couldn't give a fuck less and if this made heeseung miserable then you had every reason not to care " why should I care on fact I actually don't mind going back ou " jungwon grabed your hand pinning you on the wall wtf is it with everyone pinning you on the wall " look I know heeseung hyung did fucked up shit and I know it's fucked up we didn't do anything but we all grow from our mistakes and plus now your like hot so please just shut the fuck up and well stay in here
————————————————————-
/the next day after all that//
You got home after sometime of being stuck with jungwon you were honestly so feed up with everthing at that point but being stuck with jungwon wasn’t too bad you got to knwo him actually as a person and the way he talked about heeseung made you actually see there is a diffrent side to heeseung getting lost in your thoughts you didn’t know that chu was talking to you “oh sorry chu I just have a lot on my mind rn” she looked at you with a smirk confused you looked at her “I bet you are having a lot on you mind scince you slept with Sunghoon “ afraid someone would hear you covers her mouth “chu first of all we did not sleep together second of all please don’t say that” you wind to her “okay oaky I’m sorry “ she wisperd “ but if you guys didn’t fuck what did you do “ obviously her not buying it “well I mean we actually just watched a movie “ chu was in disbelief “you telling me you spent that night at his house and didn’t fuck!” “Omg shut up chu “everyone now staring at you and her apologizing “speak of the devil” you turned around confused at chu it was heeseung jake and sunoo sunoo smiled happyily at you giving you a hug sunoo was normally like this even when people were rude to you he made really nice gestures making you at least happy one person back then didn’t totally hate you “hi y/nnieeee” avoiding heeseungs contact a bit embarrassed from What hapoend the last time you guys spoke “didn’t know you had a nickname other than doll y/n “ sunoo smacked his shoulder “cmon now hyung don’t be a dick”sunoo said defending you “what ever “ heeseung said walking away sunoo being left behind “oh btw y/n I was wondering if I could get your help with something “ nodding at him curios to what he could need your help with “I know you and heeseung aren’t best of buds but cause you help me plan his birthday par-“ you stopped him “hell no sunoo” “why not th-“ you get it that sunoos action didn’t mean to hurt you but why would you do anything to help him “please y/nnie “ sunoo made it so hard to say no “your lucky your pretty “ sunoo smiled happily “okay well I’m his party is next week and all of the boys are pitching in and I need your help with decorations “ nodding but you didn’t want heeseung to know you helped cause that would cause problems “sunoo just don’t tell heeseung I’m helping you plan this “ nodding and not questiong you “oh and chu would you mind going with Jake the day of to get drinks “ you could see chus eyes light up in mention of jake “ofc!” Sunoo thanked you guys and had left
//2 days later//
“Okay sunoo so we have all the Ballons ordered and the banners nikis and jungwon and gonna pick up the cakes Sunghoon sunoo getting all the food so we’re set “ being so tired staying up late at night to plan more things for heeseungs party even tho as much as you hated him you still put a lot of time in this for no reason you couldn’t exactly pin point why you were putting so much thought in it being worried he wouldn’t be happy with it…. anyways back to sunoo “yes everything looks perfect !” Being happy everything was set in place for Saturday “wait y/n have you chosen your outfit yet “ omg after picking out everything and setting it all up for heeseungs party you completely forgot to buy and outfit with only 1 day left before the party “oh shit” sunoo being confused “what’s wrong?omg you didn’t chose one out yet did you” you shook your head “okay well you should have some time tommorw right I can go shopping with you” you thanked that sunoo even reminded you or it would have been so bad “your a life savor sunoo ilysm “
//The next day//
Sunoo arrived at the mall but not alone he came with sunghoon you hadn’t talk scince that day so you too were a bit awkward sunghoon just standing there as sunoo ran up to hug you “sunghoon hyung are you broken” laughing a bit at what sunoo had said “what no” sunghoon being defensive you ended up greeting him by just waving as he waved back “okay!let’s go shopping “
You guys had gon into a dress store to find a dress for the party you wanted somthing simple not to much it still being a little awkward beetween you and sunghoon but you guys lightens the mood by just saying some jokes sunoo had handed you a dress scince you weren’t liking any that you chose and sunoo really had an eye for clothes showing them the white dress sunoo had chosen for you his and sunghoon mouth hanging open “y/n I think you broke sunghoon” you both started laughing as sunghoon was a bit embarrassed but you knew that this was the dress you were gonna chose
//DAY OF PARTTYYYYY//
After you and sunoo had spent all night and the morning of the party decorating at jakes house you finally had to go home and change tha fully the party was supposed to be a Suprise so you didn’t have to worry about heeseung seeing you…”hey y/n “ nudging you head at chu “what up “ she seemed like she was being held back by the question “e-even tho heeseung bullied you and none of his freinds did anything to stop him why are you still nice to them “ you yourself didn’t fully understand but as much as you say you hated heeseung you really well didn’t how could you hate him from the moment you saw him in middle school till now you could never get over his Bambi like eyes and you’ll never forget the first encounter you had with him either heeseung was super nice the first time you had met him he had accidently number into you the first day of 6th grade helping you pick up everything and apologizing but reassuring him that it was okay every year from that money on you guys always had the same class but 6th grade heeseung was much diffrent then heeseung now “I’m not really sure chu but I know that I don’t hate them and I can’t really blame the boys either at times they would tell heeseung he was doing to much or that it was enough and I thanked them for that it was never there fault “ nodding chus head understating you now and feeling simpathy for you “but chu that’s not important right now cause we’re gonna go party!”
//at the party //
Beomgyu had driven all of you to the party you walked in thrue the door and you were so proud of the decorations and that everyone loved them “holy shit y/n “ beomgyu said “I need you to be my party planner cause damn “ giggling you made your way to find the rest of the boys leaving you freind for a bit instead you ran into heeseung you rolled your eyes as he starred at you “cmon doll you can’t be rude to the birthday boy “ he walked closer to you “what ever happy birthday tho ig “ he just nodded surprised you said happy birthday to him at all jake and sunoo seeing you and going up to you and heeseung “y/nnieee!!” You hugged sunoo and Jake “do want a drink y/n? Chu got a pack of beer that you like” you nodded pushing thrue the crowed to go get a drink getting déjà vu as you saw sunghoon agian in the same place as last time “oh hey y/n” Sunghoon seeming a bit tipsy already “hey hoon are you drunk?” He shook his head “no not drunk but what ever you do do not drink jays punch” “noted” you said as you guys laughed he passed you a beer as “are you enjoying the party so far” he asked you saying it to you ear as the music was too loud nodding to him “do you wanna go dance?” You asked him being a flustered but agreeing as you two were dancing you had made eye contact with heeseung but he didn’t look away you were in a trans you didn’t even realize sunghoon was talking to you till you felt him pat hour back “hey are you okay?” He asked a bit concerned “yeah I’m good “you said as you look back to heeseungs spot as he smirked and left with a girl sunghoon noticed and looked in the same direction “don’t worry about heeseung “ he told you “I’m not dont worry” you saw him smile as you to continued dancing
//later in the party//
You saw heeseung with a girl making out you were staring so hard you were sure they’d be able to feel u you “yo y/n “Jake was talking to you now “you seem a bit to munch into heeseung making out with other girls “slaping jake for making that remark as he laughed “shut up Jake “ you rolled your eyes beomgyu laughing at his joke “ you two are so immature “ soobin added “I can’t belive you choosing sides “ “Jake hee not choosing sides he just has a brain” now you were laughing but still going back to heeseung every now n then but this time was different heeseung made eye contact with you and you had gotten flustered going outside on the balcony for some fresh air you were two into you thoughts you didn’t know heeseung standing behind you “you know y/n if you wanted to keep watching you should have tooken a picture “ being scared as he talked in you ear grabbing you wait being flustered at his comment and his gestures “what’s wrong doll you always have so much to say “ you turned around just to be caged into him “heeseung go away “ he tilted his head “why you don’t like this “ he came close to you neck sucking on your skin moving your neck to let him have more access but you knew it was wrong “no I’m not gonna be one of your quick fuckes “ you said as you pushed him back you could tell he was a bit drunk “why cause I’m not sunghoon? Are you now to good for anyone” you were a bit confused on why that even mattered “yk what heeseung you seem a bit drunk so I’m just gonna g-“ he grabed your arm and tugged you back the drink he had placed before down before he had it in his other hand but it got on your dress he himself was a bit upset he had gotten it on you dress and by now you were furios “why do you hate me so much! What have I ever done to you for you to hate me you can’t just fuck with my feelings heeseung” he was taken aback by your question “yk heeseung Even after all the times you hurt me I never hated you but you always hated me and still do I don’t know what I did but I don’t think I even deserve this “ tears coming in your eyes now he could see them even tho it was dark he get bad now “y/n I-“ “no heeseung save it I’m done with you bull shit have a nice night happy fucking birthday lee” and with that you stumbled and ran out the door realizing soobin was the one who had driven you so you had to walk home now.
//back in the party //
Part three will be out quickly I just couldn’t write on this page anymore for some reason tha my oh for waiting !!
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pilferingapples · 10 months
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Since you've read most of Victor Hugo's books, how would you rank them from best to worst, and why? I really want to know your thoughts. Always love to hear it <3
!!! THANK YOU THIS IS SO SWEET and also so hard but here we go!
Les Miserables yes it's my favorite but I also do think it's the best! The most ambitious of his works story-structure and character/theme density and frankly? He absolutely lands it. I have been arguing with and about this book for over a decade now and I expect I will be doing so for the rest of my life, because it's worth it. I probably don't have to argue hard for it in top spot on the Les Miserables Webbed Site, though, so moving on:
Ninety Three /Quatre-vingt treize Not my second favorite but honestly probably just as good as LM but in a different way? Much more compact and focused, and feels every bit of the influence of more recent political events in France at the time, but just as ambitious in terms of the arguments and themes it's trying to cover. The ending is something you can have eighty feelings about in an afternoon but it is always unforgettable. Deserves to be so much better known. Toilers of the Sea /Les Travailleurs de la mer  My actual second favorite Hugo novel! A big Romanticist nature-focused love letter to the Channel Islands and to the sea! A mix of delightfully unreliable Nature Facts and Hugo's own observations about the place, that Nature-focus is always convincing either way with Hugo's descriptions. It's so very different from most of Hugo's later novels, but also *so* good, if you're willing to just sit back and enjoy the view . Gilliatt is a Forever Fave. Please more people read Toilers, it's a delight. And it has an Octopus Fight! The Man Who Laughs /L'homme qui rit Victor Hugo's Revenge on English History! I could feel my knowledge of actual English History Facts peeling away as I read this. Incredibly described scenes, iconic central characters, Ursus is one of the best-written characters of all time (though I have learned that some people have apparently never met a guy like this?? he is such a Type though!) . There's a wolf and the wolf is named Homo. After Les Mis, some old Hugo fans were lamenting about how far he'd strayed since the days of Notre Dame , and I think The Man Who Laughs feels a lot like a return to that old , over-the-top Goth style of Hugo's,but stronger, in keeping with the way his writing had grown over time-- until the end, when everything kind of feels like it wraps up too abruptly. Which makes sense! Hugo was finishing it up while his wife Adéle was in her final illness, and it makes sense that it would show--but I think it does show, and keeps the novel from being quite all it could be. Notre Dame de Paris I know it's either Hugo's most famous or second-most famous novel, but I really do think it's not as solid as the others! Which isn't a roast on him, it's a good thing for an author to get better over time--but it still leaves this novel feeling kinda messy. I can see Hugo trying to do his signature move of pulling together multiple separate plot/themes into a triumphant grand finale, but he hasn't quite got the knack yet. Plus there's still a lot of elements here that feel like Hugo relying on tropes a bit (and horrible tropes at that, too) instead of entirely speaking with his own voice quite yet. (also ohman. the Issues. but I'm trying to keep this post from being nine million screens long) All of the above range from "absolute masterpiece" to "not an entire masterpiece but still iconic", and then there's Hugo's Early Stuff, so: Bug Jargal - honestly it's not fair of me to even include this, it was a novel he wrote as a very young person, on a time-dare. If I'd written a Nano novel in high school it would have been SO bad. And this is bad! It's SO bad!! But you can still definitely tell it's Hugo by the way he makes sure to tell us, AFTER the story is over, that EVERYONE IN THE WHOLE BOOK DIED, EVERYONE, EVEN THE PETS. Stunning. Peak Romanticism XD (again though. THE ISSUES. whooof.)
Han d'Islande: Í have not even read this one. HUGO was down on this one later in life. I Dare Not XD (I probably will someday). But it has a polar bear and drinking seawater from skulls and inspired some very questionable behavior from the fans (attempting to drink seawater from skulls!) so I gotta acknowledge it!
Honorable Mention: the novelas
Not quite in the same group as the novels, but I think both Last Day of a Condemned Man and Claude Geaux are excellent, super-focused stories about the injustice of the prison system and the issue of capital punishment. Obviously they can't have the range of his novels, but that's not the point--they are much more direct statements on a single issue and they're really intense and effective in that!
This was fun! thank you for asking! And I'd love to hear your own thoughts on this , if you ever feel like writing them up:D
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a-dinosaur-a-day · 11 months
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Can you talk a little bit about how you became a paleontologist? (like school and stuff).
I went to college wanting to major in paleontology and everybody told me I could major in geology but that being a paleontologist just really wasn't possible.
I did major in geology/archaeology combo major (offered at my college, it's actually a BA, not a BS, which was disappointing), but it's not paleontology and i've been out of school for a awhile and i'm just really discouraged.
ugh welcome to my life. the reason my story is complicated is because of crap like that.
so, I'm going to get very, very, very real here. that means I'm going to reveal some personal details about myself. I'm okay with it. I want to share this. Content Warnings for Parental Abuse, Mental Illness, Physical Disability, and Trauma. Phew. Here we go.
first thing we have to acknowledge: I grew up poor. my mom was a stay at home mom because of mental illness (majorly agoraphobic and huge social anxiety, plus largely untreated OCD). my dad rarely held on a job for very long because of severe untreated ADHD. my parents' primary concern, at all times, was that their six kids (my mom loves kids) would have gainful, steady employment. they are communists, and it was always about how we can't help others effectively if we're not secure in the rest of our lives.
I wanted to be a paleontologist from the moment I could have such a want. But my parents never, never, thought that was a good idea. They wanted me to be a scientist, because they could see my potential, but they didn't think being a paleontologist was a safe career. And, to be fair, they had a point. But I didn't want to be anything else. In fact, the very idea would make me start sobbing. So while I was little, they didn't really do anything about it. Occasionally they planted seeds of "you might not be a paleontologist", but it never went well.
fast forward to me going to college. now they were serious. we were constantly fighting over whether I should be a paleontologist or a medical researcher (MDPhD. you know, the insane degree that insane people get.) (I'm insane, but not that way). because they were paying for, well, some of it (I got a lot of scholarships, b''h), and I was in general dependant on them like most college students are, they picked my classes. I was forced to major in biology (though I probably would have picked that anyway), and I never took any geology classes (well, I took half of one, but had to drop it because of my stupid premed classes).
I got to do paleontology research, but it was kind of in secret - I technically had two different research jobs, one in evolutionary biology, one in paleontology. I took tons of medical related classes, and was forced to take the MCAT twice. I wasn't good at it. Memorizing things isn't my forte, I'm much better at problem solving and finding/evaluating information. I also just wasn't interested in it - I can remember countless dinosaur genera, but ask me to remember really specific medical details and my mind draws a blank.
I did not do well on the MCAT, but I was still forced to apply to MDPhD programs. I also applied to evolutionary biology and paleontology PhD programs on my own. But paleontology is extremely competitive, and I didn't hear back from any of those. I also didn't get anywhere with any of those medical programs. In fact, I ended up getting accepted to a grad program for evolutionary developmental biology, because that was the only thing that had an opening. Rather than go home and be forced to apply to medical school again, I took the out.
I was miserable. But I tried to convince myself it was better this way. That I would have gainful employment, and be able to do science. Meanwhile, I was running this blog, building a community, and constantly thinking about paleontology instead of my actual thesis. Even though paleontology doesn't require field work, I'd convinced myself I could never do it because field work is inaccessible to me - I have had chronically dislocated knees since I was 16, and a few different physical conditions that make me exceptionally heat sensitive. I couldn't do field work, so I couldn't be a paleontologist. I also am fat, because of those disabilities, and there just aren't a lot of fat AFAB paleontologists, so I thought I wouldn't be able to get far for that reason.
But I couldn't finish that PhD. I didn't care enough about it, and I was constantly hitting roadblocks. I wanted the focus to be more evolution based, my advisor told me no. I wanted to pursue a specific question, my advisor advised against it. My wasps kept dying, and I didn't know why. I couldn't get my assays to work. My advisor was always focused on his other students and never me. It was a nightmare. All the while, my blog was exploding in popularity, and I was even going to paleontology conferences on my own dollar and networking there, presenting research about using the internet as an educational tool. And I felt at home. I was with *my people*.
Then the pandemic happened. I was already estranged from my parents for other reasons, that I'd rather not get into (no, it's not cause I'm queer). Everyone was frustrated with my lack of progress at my first program. My spouse, the infinite well of support that he is (url @plokool), gave me the push I needed to drop out with a master's degree (which I had earned at that point). I then was seriously considering becoming a rabbi, because I didn't think I could hack being a scientist at all after that experience.
But, everything felt wrong when I wasn't engaged with paleo. ADAD had gone on hiatus because my artists were persuing other opportunities (and I'm so proud of them!). I just felt empty and lost without paleontology in my life. So I went to the virtual SVP that was being held in 2020, since it was cheaper than usual and online.
And I met my current advisor. We clicked *right* away. We had the same questions about bird evolution and talked for hours. He encouraged me to apply, so I did - just for paleontology programs. I knew if I didn't do paleo, there wasn't a point. Nothing else would hold my interest enough for me to get a doctoral degree. I also talked to the wonderful friends I had made here on Palaeoblr, ones who were also actually pursuing paleo, and they promised me I could do it - that they believed in me. The one thing no one but my spouse had ever really indicated to me. It gave me the push I needed, and when I was accepted to this program, I took it. It also helped that I finally had working ADHD medication, for the first time in my life.
Even though it meant moving from Chicago - nice, at least sometimes chilly Chicago, my home for my whole life - to fucking southern new mexico. I am so hot. All the time now. My feet never return to their proper color. But it was worth the risk.
But I'm not doing field work! I've had to take a lot of remedial geology classes, but all my work has been computer and lab based. And I've done so much already! I've published a new bird, I've done excellent in my classes and teaching, and I'm currently compiling my own database of Paleogene bird fossils. Last year was a little rough because of trauma things, and the gd-damned adderall shortage, but I'm moving forward. I am hoping to go into museum work, because I love museums, and I believe in them and their ability to educate people (I also want to help the museum field decolonize itself, but that's a different discussion.) I've even made a design for an evolution of dinosaurs exhibit that my professor wants me to make into a real thing someday.
So... yeah. I became a paleontologist by being the world's most stubborn mother fucker alive. I decided I wanted to be as a kid, and I never could let it go, even when it would have been better for me to. But I'm glad I didn't, because now I'm here, and I'm doing well. When i can focus, at any rate. Because I'm only at peace when I'm around dinosaurs.
(P.S. I've even repaired my relationship with my parents, and they support me as a paleontologist now! just took 30 years for them to realize they couldn't fight me on this, I guess... or they're old and tired of fighting. one of the two.)
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