#there’s a few other titles in that category too

[siflshonen]

manga recommendations. What are your favorite mangas?

Naoki Urasawa’s Monster and Pluto (no, you don’t need to read Astro Boy first but it’s fun if you have)

Mob Psycho 100

March Comes In Like a Lion/Sangetsu no Lion

Rurouni Kenshin (death of the author. And many of the iconic parts were his wife’s idea anyway. This one gets a little tired as all shonen do near the end but I do sincerely love it.)

Astro Boy and Message to Adolf (but damn is it a hard read sometimes)

There’s more but that’s what’s coming to me right now in this moment.

#all my work models Urasawa’s in terms of pacing and whole-hog embrace meant of melodrama #I’m nowhere near as good #I know it and I don’t care #dragon ball I experienced as an anime #there’s a few other titles in that category too #ask

[oh-katsuki]

it's been a really long time since i wrote porn for porn's sake. here u go. it's alpha nanami :)) i don't have a title for it oops

cw: alpha!nanami, omega!reader, a/b/o, breeding, knotting, heat and rut cycles, dubcon on both sides, fingering, cohabitation, taboo, protective nanami, i feel like there is a slight primal kink in here, light dacryphilia,

wc: 3.1k

nanami didn't mean to take in a stray, but that's sort of how it happened. you're staying with him until a particularly careless friend helps to find a suitable living arrangement for you. nanami really isn't sure how it became his problem, but he'd feel awful if he'd told satoru no and left you without somewhere to go, no matter how against living with an omega he is.

frankly, nanami doesn't support the idea of alphas and omegas living together. he thinks it's a bit perverse. there's far too much at risk and the situation can become dangerous if it's the wrong pairing. sure, sometimes it works out. the better of his kind (of which he considers himself to be) give the necessary space and resist the temptation, but the others... take it too far. it'd be easier for you to live with a beta, and nanami wonders why satoru didn't first go to one of them. maybe your pheromones are weak and satoru isn't worried. that's probably why he hadn't noticed them when satoru first brought you by to ask if it'd be okay.

he knows that second gender is a spectrum. some alphas and omegas hardly emit any pheromones at all, even during heat and rut cycles. nanami thinks he likely falls into this category, seeing as he's never been particularly tempted by an omega and very few have ever been all too tempted by him, but it's a gamble. it's—frankly—unethical to ask this of him and though nanami knows that he should have said no, something in his good nature compelled him to say yes.

you've weak pheromones too, he thinks. he, of course, can feel them to a degree, but seeing as you mostly keep to yourself, it's hardly a problem in the first few weeks. frankly, the most tempting thing about you is that you're beautiful. you seem to have an almost standoffish air about you, proud and dignified, with a preference towards a more solitary and observant lifestyle. most of the day, the two of you hardly even see each other, going about your lives entirely separately only to settle into the same house for bed at night.

you don't say much when you're home. in fact, nanami would wonder if you could speak at all if it weren't for the conversations he hears you having on your phone and the little laughs or eyerolls you give in response to his comments. there's understanding there, but it's silent and you hardly ever dignify nanami's words or invitations with a response. maybe you're airing on the side of caution. he wouldn't blame you if you are. so, for the next two weeks the two of you coexist without so much as a hello between you both, silently sharing a space. you stay out of the way and nanami pretends that he isn't slightly unsettled by your constant proximity and the creeping feeling that you don't really like him all too much.

"they're a little difficult," says gojo over the phone. "kinda standoffish and really smart."

"so i've noticed," nanami responds. "i can't say i blame them though. you've put us in a weird spot."

"oh, nanamin, i know you well enough to know that you wouldn't lay a hand on them even if they begged," satoru laughs. "and they really might."

nanami grimaces at satoru's statement.

"i still don't understand why it had to be me," nanami says flatly. "you could have called ijichi. it'd probably be safer."

"how noble," satoru snickers, "but i trust you. hang in there a few more weeks. we've been working on securing an apartment for them and once we do, they'll be out of your hair. you're an angel for letting them stay." he sing-songs into the receiver. nanami holds it away from his ear.

"sure," he says. "it's not really much trouble... it's just.."

"that they're an omega. i get it. stay strong or whatever lol," satoru laughs. "unless of course, you really like them."

nanami huffs and hangs up the phone. satoru's got a good head on his shoulders, but he knew where that conversation was going. satoru was likely to say something about your heat cycle and nanami, being an optimist in cases like these, hopes silently that it won't come for another two weeks. he knows he could ask, but he worries about coming across as something of a creep. nanami is a little orthodox in the sense that he believes alphas and omegas should be separate for this reason exactly. suppressants exist but they don't always work and though nanami has sense about him, he's always had an insecurity about the kind of monster his second gender could make him. it sets him at ease a little that your pheromones appear as weak as they are.

you round the corner into the living room, standing just on the far end of the room. you're wearing pajamas, but you seem to feel no need to cover yourself or hide any perceived indecency. nanami glances at you, making a point to avoid looking at the shape of your body. it's inviting and you look at him for a moment with a small smile before raising one single eyebrow and letting out a low huff of air. nanami decides that you'd heard his conversation and he watches you shake your head as you move to the kitchen to peruse what he has. your hips, swaying slightly with each step, draw his attention to the curve of your ass and he feels ashamed for even having looked.

you're beautiful, that's certain. even the way you move is beautiful. nanami has eyes enough to see that. something stirs inside of you when he speaks, wordless recognition, maybe amusement or irritation, and vice versa. regardless, it's beautiful and nanami finds that the longer you're here the more he has to swallow it down.

you seem to get a little uncomfortable if nanami has people over, even for a moment. not that you've ever said anything about it, but you appear set on edge when he does so in the following weeks, it leads him to not bring anyone over at all. he can't bear the idea of making you uncomfortable. for as little as you've spoken to him since you've been here, nanami finds that he's grown rather fond of you. if things continue this way, he should hate it when you leave. admittedly though, he's looking forward to it a little. nanami feels that you're... a temptation. one he can't really seem to overcome.

one evening, you sit down in the living room with him. it draws his attention to look at you.

"i'm not mean, you know," you say flatly.

nanami is astounded to hear the cadence of your voice so clearly and without prompt. he can only offer a nod in return.

"i'm just picky," you continue, shifting in your seat as if you're made uncomfortable by the way you're sitting. "i have to be, being the way i am and all."

"i understand. i'm not offended," nanami says. "but some people would probably call that rude."

you smile at him, coy and delicate. "would you?"

"maybe," he offers. "if the circumstances were different."

nanami clears his throat, furrowing his eyebrows at your body language. something's off and he wonders if maybe your cycle has begun. he shifts on the couch and turns his full attention to you.

you move over to him and sit just adjacent to his leg. something in him stirs, primal and unrecognizable. you've never been this close and he only now notices that you smell nice, like something light and fresh.

nanami feels his chest stir. "this is the most you've ever said to me, i think."

"sorry," you say.

"don't be," he responds.

this conversation is awkward. it's loaded. it's like a conversation between two people who can't exchange more than a few words without experiencing intense sexual tension. he clears his throat.

"i need your help," you mumble, shifting closer. he knows what you're implying.

"i can't help you," nanami responds through gritted teeth.

"please," you say, standing slowly. you linger in front of him for a moment before reaching out and slowly straddling his legs. nanami flinches as you settle on him, pausing for a moment to breathe. "touch me."

you place your head against his shoulder, fingers grabbing his shirt as if you're agitated. the skin of your cheek is warm against his collarbone and he can feel your hair against his jaw. you twitch lightly when you touch him. carefully, he places a large hand on your head. your whole body flinches, unbelievable warmth soaking into his skin.

you feel like you have a fever and the next time you raise your head, your eyes have gone glassy, face darker. your lips are wet and lightly parted and a layer of sweat covers your forehead.

"not like that," you say, something needy creeping into your voice.

nanami, against his better judgement, rests his hands on your waist. you shudder under his touch and he slowly strokes the exposed skin of your sides with his fingers. trailing the pads of them against raised goosebumps on your skin. between your legs, he can feel heat. he knows you're wet and he knows what you want. nanami isn't sure he can give it to you, he's unsure that he should. it's not illegal, but he feels that it's wrong. something about it is fundamentally wrong and the situation goes against all of his morals. his mind still wanders.

you rest your forehead against his chest, and he feels your pheromones as they hit his nose and soak in through his skin. his body responds, tensing. your breath picks up, little heaves and pants, and you squirm down against him almost involuntarily. nanami feels himself grow hard. it surprises him and shames him. he feels heat rise to his cheeks at the realization that he's pressing up against the inside of your leg, something that makes you stir and settle directly over him. every exhale from you is a borderline whine and the syrupy smell of you grows more intense by the moment. nanami still runs his fingers along your sides, venturing over your tummy and back occasionally.

"just a little bit," you command, rubbing your cheek against him and then placing your mouth on the side of his neck and biting. "i'm sorry. just a little bit."

nanami winces and you drag your hips over him. his hands fly to yours, gripping hard enough as you make you whine.

"i can't," he grits out, speaking directly against the way his cock throbs against your core. he can feel it's dampness, a humidity that soaks through his pants.

"it hurts," you mutter and nanami feels an unpleasant stirring in his stomach. he hates the thought of you being uncomfortable.

"maybe we can find help-" you twitch over him, making him wince, "for you."

you shake your head, "you."

nanami exhales and tips his head back, his fingers still on your waist. he weighs the outcomes of this in his mind. he could push you off and fix you a blanket and a safe space, give you some tools to help yourself and then plug his ears and pretend he doesn't want to do it himself. he imagines the buzzing sound, the way you'd whimper from the other room over, still unfulfilled despite the aid. he thinks about your fingers between your legs, unsatisfying and only serving to worsen the itch. it makes him strangely jealous, nauseous almost, that you should be so uncomfortable in his presence.

you exhales against him and it's a near defeated sound. nanami's fingers buzz with adrenaline, his cock swelling and throbbing every time you so much as shift over him. there's a lack of control in this situation and his fingers move to comfort you almost against his will.

something natural and easy takes over as he slides a big hand down to the front of you and cups your cunt. it feels almost like an out of body experience, but both yours and nanami's humanity drips away slowly to make room for these primal actions. you shudder and nanami's chest swells with relief as he sees your expression. there's a need within him to care for you. it's protective, the same way he'd feel if you were in physical danger.

nanami moves his four fingers over you slowly, his breathing hitching as you push your body against him. he can feel your dampness soaking through your thin shorts and it isn't long before your relief gives way to more need.

"just this once, nanami," you breath against his neck. "please."

nanami's head is filled with something syrupy. probably you. it's probably a chemical reaction caused by you and he knows that any pheromones you're releasing are probably being released in equal amounts by him. they take up space in the room, crowding him so that all he can focus on is you, is the need between your legs that calls to him like song.

"okay," he gives in, pulling your panties to the side and dipping his fingers into you.

you shudder and let out a short cry, thighs trembling. he knows he won't be able to satisfy you like this, but he wants to try. nanami knows though that there is no such thing as nipping it in the bud with these sorts of things and as he begins to move his fingers inside of you with a beckoning motion, he feels himself slip farther away.

you're so wet, dripping down his fingers. your pussy clenches around them, begging for a knot, sucking the two digits up into you and then threatening to push them out. nanami has been with omegas before, but he's never felt himself slip away like this. his humanity leaves him in favor of something animal.

nanami shushes you quietly as he pulls his fingers from your body. you whine and squirm against him, pressing down and grinding against the bulge in his pants. he sucks in a sharp breath and quickly discard your bottoms, leaving you bare and exposed in his lap.

your cunt is sticky and shining, glistening with your wetness. he can smell it, the way you're probably fertile, and the perverse thought crosses his mind that maybe you deliberately avoided your suppressants so that he could do this to you. how out of character for him to think that.

for someone so proper, he makes quick work of pressing the head of his cock against your entrance. you push your body forward to try to take him in and nanami very quickly slides into you. you're tight and with the way your cunt makes him feel, he knows that the stretch must hurt you, but he can't seem to stop. he's so focused on quelling the ache within you, buried deep in that spot where his knot will inevitably catch.

you are barely capable of forming words now, dumb and deaf with your heat. any words of comfort nanami offers to you seem to go in one ear and out the other, but he offers them anyway. they're automatic and they come without his even needing to think about them. things about taking care of you, about knotting you the way you're begging him to, about making sure you're never alone when you have to do this. if he were in a better state of mind, he'd be mortified.

instead, he fucks his hips up into you, holding you by the waist against his throbbing cock. then, when that isn't enough, he lays you on your back on the couch and presses your knees to your chest so that he can go deeper. he needs to get deep enough to where his knot will catch, to be able to stay there to ensure it catches properly. he feels the way air leaves you with every fuck of his hips.

you raise your hand to touch his face, eyes glassed over and watering as gentle tears slip down your cheeks. a silent encouragement that pulls him from his thoughts back to you. nanami turns his head instinctively and kisses the palm of your hand. then, he takes your thumb into his mouth and bites down on the fleshly part at the base of it. he could draw blood if he wanted, but he doesn't. instead he takes your hand as it falls from his lips and kisses you plainly again on the palm before pinning it above your head.

"i'll take care of you," he grunts out and you nod deliriously.

nanami makes quick work of knotting you. he bullies his cock as far in as it will go, swelling and swelling until he sticks. you squirm as he does, gasps growing higher in pitch until you're silenced by the pressure deep in your abdomen. you cum around him, he thinks, pussy fluttering as it throbs around his knot. then, you exhale as the heat recedes into the background with this momentary relief.

nanami winces as he holds himself up over you, slowly returning to his head as the swell of pheromones recedes and leaves only the feeling of the space he takes up in your cunt.

you search his face for something, benevolence maybe, and nanami places a wide palm to your cheek.

"i'm sorry," he breathes as words find him again. "i didn't intend to-"

you shake your head, returning to yourself as well. "don't be, i wanted to."

nanami isn't really sure what to say and you wince under him as he settles his weight a little further, throbbing lightly at the mention.

"hold me," you ask and nanami obliges. he settles fully over you before lifting you so that you're straddling his lap again. you wince and nanami soothes you by gently stroking your face. it's automatic again, the urge to comfort you is well beyond his control.

something in you triggers something in him and it is two full days before either of you are lucid and well enough to separate. satoru calls him multiple times, but nanami ignores him, too preoccupied with his unexpected rut and keeping you comfortable. at present, he's well past the initial guilt and frankly, entirely hellbent on deciding that you should stay. so much for his practicality, nature won out in the end.

nanami doesn't really think he'll ever hear the end of this, especially not from satoru who, when he inevitably gets a hold of them, will tease so relentlessly that it might shock nanami and you back into your senses. he decides to hide out here with you for a little longer, filling the room with the scent of you both until it crowds out everything else. he likes the way you feel nestled up beside him, messy and breathing deeply as you sleep.

a tag for my friends @antizenin and @kentocidal bc they asked!!!

#nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #jjk x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #tw: a/b/o #tw: breeding #tw: dubcon #i can't find my writing tag #also there are prob spelling mistakes in here i apologize #i apologize if this isnt very good

[iznsfw]

Senior Year Isn’t the Only Thing That’s Hard

Momoland's Nancy McDonie x Jeon Somi x Male Reader Smut

20,859 words

Categories | popular!Nancy and Somi, threesome, blowjob, titjob, anal, spanking, fluff, also if you get the reference(s) I love you

Thank you for commissioning! Was tough to find time to write during exam season but fuck it we ball.

Stars in the sky, stars in their eyes—they’re truly something else. Shouldn’t they be up there themselves? They glimmer too bright to be left here on earth, with a guy like you who can’t hold a flame to them.

But maybe you’re one yourself. Stars only ever mingle with their own kind. So there's the possibility that the three of you are stardust, simmered onto this world to shine in other places where they need it. It’s a laughable way to put it, almost cliche. But when you look at them, you realize you’re not far off.

See here: you're young. It's too early to worry about reputation—(oh, what a word, by the way, with its promise of faint or fail)—but a great, great place to start. 

You didn't know about that second part until you met Somi and Nancy.

First, picture this: your story is a movie, the rare one where the male character is the lead of the story although—let's face it—it's them everyone's reading this for. Not you, not your style, not nada and zip. Everyone is and always will be here for them:

Jeon Somi and Nancy McDonie. They're teen royalty. Only a few students ever get to say they held that title. Not that it's of any importance later in life but what matters more than the present? The juniors look at them green with envy, and with the seniors, the ones who are all proud in their recent age of adulthood, either like them but hate to say it and "hate" them but like them too much to say it. It's that simple. It’s that complicated, too, at the same time. 

And, admittedly, it’s… a lot to take in.

Strangely, you're not in either of those categories despite being a senior yourself. The difference is that you like them, and aren't afraid to say it. After all, you owe them a lot for helping you get out of your shell.

-

Well, not at first. But that’s how it works, right? You, Somi, and Nancy don’t immediately become friends right from the get-go. There has to be some kind of story behind it, and you’re willing to tell yours.

-

It all started… well, like this:

You enrolled into a new school sometime after your eighteenth or nineteenth birthday. Yep, you really couldn’t remember. It’s all been in a flash with them, makes you feel a little dumb. All you know was it was the worst present to have: being required to join an institution that was as unfamiliar as it was unwanted. Like, fucking hell—this early? You were just a kid! Well, not anymore, but there had to be some kind of consideration for this, right? An exception that could be made?

Unfortunately, signing up for a new school was not a subject up for debate. It wasn’t something you could bargain yourself out of. No promises to be good, no extra chores, nothing. Your parents were firm on deciding that you were in need of a fresh new start.

And it just sort of happened that this clean slate you had? You ruined it completely.

Oh, it was classic teenage rebellion. You did almost everything you could to buy your way out of circumstances that didn't go how you wanted them to. You wouldn't say it was totally uncalled for. You had friends at your old school you thought you'd forever be with—the way you saw it, no one could just pull that away from you.

Alas, here you were. You'd been in this classroom more times than you could remember. Neither you nor the presidents spoke. No one was willing to break the ice.

Finally, sun melted the cold and replaced the winter with a fiery, hot summer. "You again?" Nancy McDonie leaned on the edge of the teacher's desk. Her expression was that of someone who's going through a cruel cycle of same-shit-different-day. You knew what that's all about. "I swear, we see you here every Tuesday."

And what a privilege that was. Sarcasm? A little. 

"Oh?" you said. You did your own leaning on the backrest of the chair and put your arms behind your head. "Well, it's not like I enjoy it here."

Maybe you did. Maybe you didn’t. To be truthful, you didn’t know either at the time, so… well—you’re left involved in another banter with the two leaders of the student government. You didn’t see why you had to be sent to them every time you did something even just the littlest bit of wrong, but here you were. This was routine already. As everyday and usual as brushing your teeth and showering.

Nancy squinted her eyes at you, and you stared right back unnervingly. Neither of you were going to give up a silent fight like that.

"If you did," Jeon Somi quipped, beside her best friend with her hands on her own hips, "we'd understand. I mean, look at us."

She didn't have to remind you. Both girls were prettier than they should be. ‘Cause look here for a minute: Nancy's got this long caramel hair going on for her, and it extends long beyond her shoulder blades, framing her amazing curves and slim arms. She's the push to Somi's pull—Nancy is the calmer one, the girl who takes things more seriously. 

To be fair, Somi does her own taking, too. Just not in the same way. She's blonder, bustier, more extroverted. She walks life with an unrestrained laugh unfit for such a gorgeous girl and feet clad with platform school shoes that always carry her in paces around the classroom. She's kind enough to cast a blind eye on some of your offenses, but too princess-y to keep her words about herself humble.

You say these in present tense because later on, when the circumstances change and so do the seasons, you'd find out that's truly who they are. Your relationship would change but they wouldn't. They're still the same Somi and Nancy who are always glued to each other, always giggling, always the it girls, always the most popular girls in school.

One day, the punishment for your routine offenses would be death caused by them, and even that you'd welcome. Oh, just imagine…

"Let me guess." The brunette girl tapped her finger on the desk surface. Lucky piece of wood. "You didn't pay the treasurer again?"

You sighed and fiddled with your pencil. Scratches from the pointed led were imprinted on the olden table attached to the seat. You bit back a remark about how the class treasurer was as corrupt as a politician withering away with the hope the graft charges would, too. "Wrong," you said, steadily. "I accidentally spray-painted miss Seo during arts.”

Your truth was met with silence.

“She looked like she came out of a unicorn's asshole," you helpfully added.

You remembered it like it was yesterday. Ah, well, of course you did—it was impossible to forget when it happened fifty fucking minutes ago. Yes, you counted down, because the surprise that took over you when you squeezed the nozzle of the can on a teacher you didn’t even know was behind you was everything to remember. Every color of the rainbow was soaking her dress pants and blouse, making her become the personification of a lively Pride parade.

(You didn’t leave that detail out for your poor victim not to hear, when you said: “Gay rights, anybody?”

Looking back, that was prooobably what got you into another meeting with the girls. The teachers had some real strange beliefs.)

Somi snorted, then started to laugh boisterously, so much that her body rocked downwards. To be fair, it started out as a small chuckle. Things went from this to that and suddenly it worked itself into a full cackle. 

She slapped Nancy on the shoulder and shook her head. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she apologized; (it was useless), “but that shit’s so… fffucking—”

"It's not funny, Somi," Nancy said with a more solid voice than that of her friend’s. "Hey. Hey, it's not funny!"

“Just think about it, babe.” Somi, still snickering, tried to put some sense in her, tried to make her see what made it so funny. “Think of the gay flag. Now—listen—imagine it as mean old miss Seo. You see where I’m going?”

“Still not funny.”

"C'mon, prez," you told the unconvinced girl. You flung your hands in the air nonchalantly. "Live a little."

"Yeah, Nance," echoed Somi cheerfully, poking her best friend’s cheek. She was the only one who could ever do that to her. Any other person and they’d be found dead in a ditch alongside their reputation. And god, did it matter a lot to young’uns like you. "Live a little."

"Don't call me that.”

Somi shut her mouth. From what you noticed, she was the lesser contained of the two of them. She spoke with a sailor’s mouth that had the accent and vocabulary of a valley girl. Kind of true—she was filthy rich. You saw her parents during the senior acquaintance party and it wasn’t that hard to figure out she was wealthy when you saw her father slip her her allowance. Also, her mother was dressed in the best and latest trends, looking younger than she really was with how she held herself. Only rich people and really exemplary actresses could pull that off.

"And what was your offense the previous week?" Nancy went on. She was leaning forward now, unintentionally offering you the best view a horny senior could wish for: her bust struggling to be held inside her uniform blouse. 

A distraction, that's what it was. Oh, fuck, now Somi was doing it, too. Both girls are busty, full breasts begging to be freed from fabric. You should have really requested undressing them as your punishment, but it was clear that it was probably what they wanted and this was simply to coerce answers from you, unintentional or not. 

They still held their dynamics, even when they’re forcing words out of you. They went hand in hand, pairing up together like they were born to be friends: the angel that was Nancy, and the little devil Somi was; good cop (in a way) Somi, and bad cop Nancy.

You weren’t gonna say their methods didn’t work. You gulped. Since when did you sound like a shitty literotica author with two sales? "I started a food fight in the cafeteria."

"And the previous week?"

"I tripped mister Brown in the hallway because he failed me."

"And the week before that?"

"I started a campaign that Photoshopped Shrek onto teachers' faces."

Silence, as if all the world were a show that liked to take several beats.

“You think you’re funny, huh?” asked Nancy finally.

“You do,” you said. “You don’t think I can see you smiling?” There was something in her face that told you that hatred for you was not all there was to it. Something about the uplifted motion at the left end of her lips. Somi was barely hiding it with the giggles she was making.

“Don’t flatter yourself, dickhead.”

“Oooh, nice one for a first swear word.” You threw the pencil away and folded your hands together. Leaned forward, too, because if they were showing off their cleavages like that, you might as well do the same. “Got anything else for me?”

You promised you weren’t always this petty. These weekly meetings with the presidents just tired you out. It wasn’t your fault you were like this. It could all be traced back to your parents’ nth mistake: sending you off to this shithole of a school. For fuck’s sake, this wasn’t even where you envisioned yourself to be five years ago, when your teachers made you draw a visionary of yourself on white bond paper. Far from it, if you looked past your shitty skills at sketching.

“Detention, maybe,” Somi said helpfully after swallowing the last pieces of her laughs. “And a suspension.”

“Oh god.” You rolled your eyes. “Please, not you, too.”

“Yep. Real scary stuff, huh?” She smiled, raising her hands in claws before firing you a wink. Your breath shortened just for a while. Only just. “Don’t worry, you won’t have to go through all that if you behave.”

You smiled back. “Like a good boy?”

But there was your heart slipping into a knot as you said it. Joke-filled lines you exchanged with the girls were difficult not to stay upon when your hormonal brain kept each one dirty.

The two girls looked at each other for a moment. Then, they smiled. That was a rare one from Nancy. Somi, however, boasted her shining simper as she took a few steps forward to pat you on the shoulder.

"You're alright, newbie," was all she said. "You're alright."

-

A few months—

(Well, you could say it took fewer than that. Within a timespan of what seemed like seconds, Somi had you wrapped around the long hem of her ballroom gown. But she didn’t drag you around for long; she treated you like a fellow royal, helping you out with math though she had little time and greeting you in the hallways and therefore drawing looks, because why was the Jeon Somi talking to some random new kid? But attention was what came with being Somi and slash or being part of her life. It’s time you got used to it.)

—and a lot of bickering later—

(“You are the biggest dumbass I’ve ever met,” said Somi, fingers massaging her temple. “Who in goddess’ name doesn’t know dodos are extinct?”

You flipped the teacher’s copy shut. “Normal people,” was your answer to her, as you brooded over social studies homework at the library. 

“Shhhh!” the librarian, with her stereotypical glasses and graying hair, hissed at you from her desk. After a hateful glare, she was returning to her telenovela, which you argued was louder than your hushed conversation with your new friend.

Friend? What could you call this thing you had with Somi? She liked you, but that didn’t mean she was your friend or you were hers. You could like a modern abstract painting at the gallery and still not buy it. Maybe that was how she looked at you.

“The dodo is dead-o,” Somi said seriously. She looked at you with an equally resolute glare. 

“The dodo is dead-o,” you repeated. You could remember that.

“You’re so lying, did they never teach you that at your old school? Like at all?”

“Well I’m sorry I don’t spend time thinking if a stupid bird is alive or not.”

“See?” She raised her voice so that the poor juniors in the cluster behind you had to hear. “This, my friends, is what’s wrong in our society! Eighteen-year-olds in this prominent day and age are all like ‘I dunno what a dodo is!’!”

“For fuck’s sake, they’re all dead!” you yelled before the librarian could scold you again. “They won’t fucking care!”)

—things began to change.

-

She did say you were alright. You still had discourse over birds but in her eyes, you convinced yourself eventually you were alright. 

-

It wasn’t the case for Nancy. That smile she made back in that classroom apparently meant nothing. You were amusing to her, but that’s everything to it. Nothing more, nothing less. You were entertaining in a way a clown at a children’s party was: no one particularly cared about it days after.

“He’s tagging along?” she said. She looked you up and down suspiciously, as a guard would at an airport, then turned to Somi. “Somi, I thought we agreed on no boys on trips.”

And it—

… hurt you?

Not only that made you feel out of place, but the visible fact that both girls were dressed like they were about to go to a gala. They were both in skirts, wearing layers that vested upon expensive blouses and coats that even from miles away would look good. You, of course, were excluded in your simple tee and shorts. It was as if you didn’t even try to look presentable.

“Consider me one of the girls,” you said. You hoped that quick reply was witty enough, because if not, you were doomed. You already had a bad enough poor position to deal with. See? You weren’t lying when you said you didn’t want it.

And it wasn’t like going to the mall with them was something you wanted either. Somi texted you one day, having found your number through means that were probably illegal but were given a blind eye because oh look she’s Jeon Somi, and asked, hey, wanna come to the mall w me? 

Looking back, that message had a lot of undertones. 

You didn’t know Nancy was coming along, but you should have known that when the two girls were always together. Hoping that she would come along was what you did, and perhaps one of the reasons why you wanted to go (wait, you wanted to go? But didn’t you— never mind). Now that she had expressed clear distaste for your presence, you felt like an outcast again.

You didn’t want to go back to those days.

Somi nodded enthusiastically. Well, at least someone was happy to have you around. She was the first one to warm up to you, and you could say that you were friends with her now. Something told you she was okay with that. “Yeah, Nance! I promise he’s gonna be good, like super duper good. Just think that he’s Mina.”

“Don’t call me that. Oh, and remember what we did to Mina?” 

Everybody knew Kang Mina although she graduated a long time ago. She was a loner at first, but pretty. She didn’t know that she was beautiful, of course, not until she became friends with Somi and Nancy and suddenly—

“Oh no,” you said. You put up your hands. “No, no, no, no, no. You are not—”

“Giving you a makeover?” Nancy smirked, that being the first time of the day that she gave signs of a living smile. “Yeah, we are.”

The salon was right up ahead after the pavilion. You took a single look at it and saw its pink, glamoring state along with the hairdos it advertised, and knew that you were wholly, indefinitely, and irreparably fucked.

“God, what’re you gonna do to me?” you groaned as you were shoved into a disgustingly pink seat, accompanied by strange looks from strangers whose strangeness in their colored hairs and phrases shouldn’t give them any right to look at you like that. Masculinity this, masculinity that—but come on. It was… what year was it again?

“Hey, Jessa!” Somi called out loudly. Jessa was a plump, sweet woman with bayonetta glasses that made her slits for eyes look even smaller. “Make him look like everything.”

“Yeah!” Nancy actually looked enthusiastic. You tried not to curl up into a snail-like position when she brushed her fingers through your hair. “Like a dreamboat, that kind.”

Jessa smiled. “You two are always in some sort of BS, aren’t you?” Fondness graced her elderly tone. It was clear the two girls were frequent visitors.

She swiftly curled the chair into the vanity table’s direction. Your reflection in the star-studded mirror made you wince. You had cysts in all the inconvenient places, a bread crumb at the side of your mouth from the breakfast you had at that niche cafe, everything. Even Jessa looked like royalty compared to you. What more next to Somi and Nancy, whose skirted long legs towered over you and reminded you that they always held the better deck, the better position? 

“Call us the Bullshitter Bitches, then!” Somi began to tap dance on her heels. It was her hidden talent. Well, it wasn’t really hard to tap dance when she had those long legs. “‘We’re the Bullshitter Bitches / We shit on snitch—”

“Somi, that’s disgusting,” Nancy snapped sourly. She clicked a haircut apron around your neck. Great. Now you looked like a goddamned infant who’s growing up with a princess complex.

“Sorry.”

“Just so you know,” you said, as Jessa snipped away at your head, “I’m not paying for this. I don’t need a makeover.”

“‘Course you aren’t. It’s all on the house.”

Brushes swished on your face, hiding the beginning foundations of new hormonal pimples and blackheads. They hid away your imperfections with just one slide. You never saw them as such, not until you got into senior high and therefore compared yourself to the bigger guys, the cooler guys. The ones whose sweat wrung from their hair but still looked attractive enough to get the girls. Maybe this was what you needed. You were gonna have to think twice about the whole operation.

“Makeup?” you asked warily. Not that you were against it. but you never really tried it on before.

Somi’s hand made an L-shaped gesture and branded itself in front of her forehead. “Boo, come on, it’s the big year of”—redacted, with an exclamation at the end. Nobody needed to know when this happened. The time will come when everything will reveal itself. She painted powder that almost matched the shade of your skin and hued it on your cheeks and neck. “Who said guys can’t wear makeup?”

“Makeup is for everybody,” chirped Jessa in agreement. “And that’s right, sweetie, you don’t need a makeover. Just a touch up. And everyone gets them, even handsome guys like you.”

Nobody had ever called you handsome. The last time it ever happened was when your mother buttoned your polo for preschool. It’s flattery, you knew, but your chest still felt as if it were knotted.

“Ain’t that right,” Nancy stooped to your level and brushed your nose with the tip of her finger—her soft smile was gripping, “new boy.”

Another one, and a roundness at the edge(?) of your throat you couldn’t swallow. Your Adam’s apple bobbed yet it was useless at downing it. 

You had to look away. Did she just agree that you were good-looking? You knew Somi thought that, too, but this was Nancy. Nancy McDonie, the girl who didn’t care for you much and didn’t want you here.

She still didn’t like you. But maybe that would change.

(Spoiler alert: it did. That’s how the story went.)

You wondered how rich they actually were to pay Jessa to be so committed to making you look your best. Your hair was purple for a few minutes (“Fuck no!” you shouted) and was easily returned to the black with a quick dye. Then she gelled it in so many directions that you’d think your blunt mane was a car being controlled by an overexcited student driver. That was already thousands of won by itself. But it went on without stopping, and Somi and Nancy still weren’t satisfied.

“I’m telling you, Somi,” said the brunette girl, twirling your chair to the mirror again, “he looks good with that slicked back do!”

“Be serious with me.” Somi blew-dried your hair and ran her hand along your whiffed locks. “Grody as hell. Doesn’t he look like 90s’ Brendan Fraser?”

“He does,” Jessa said. She returned with tools that looked so unfamiliar to you that they might as well be surgeon’s supplies. Fuck, were they gonna take out your liver after all that trouble?

“Ha! See?”

“He has some nice eyebrows. Just needs a little trimming and he’s good to go.”

“Thank god,” you said. They all looked at you as if surprised to remember you weren’t a doll to practice hairstyling on. Your scalp already ached royally. “I need to get out of here.”

Nancy shook her head. “Nuh-uh. You’re not going anywhere, new boy. You’re ours for today.”

You gulped. God, okay. You were good with that. 

A light edged metal ran along the ends of your brows. You were afraid they were going to make you look like Megan Fox in Jennifer’s Body, but it actually turned out alright. 

After all the ruckus, you were there, staring at your reflection.You could pass for a guy richer than you actually were, cooler than you actually were. Your eyebrows were cleanly trimmed, in a steady and one-way direction, and your hair was cut yet splayed in a way that made you actually look flattering. Then you had your cheeks to look at, which were clear of any of your open pores and pimples. You looked like what they told you would: everything.

“I… I’m one of the girls now,” you said out of the blue. It was like a moment of truth for you.

“Yes you are,” Somi said proudly. “Now can we go get some ice cream?”

Nancy glanced at the clothing shop a few blocks down the tiled path and shook her head. Nope. Not a chance in any galaxy.

-

It was also later on, when you saw yourself in clothes from brands you never dreamed of buying, you knew that this thing you had with the presidents would go on forever, an eternity that would last long after—

-

Senior year, your golden age.

"Hey, hotshot," a clear voice says into your ear. She's on the phone with you yet her voice is loud enough for it to be easily assumed that she's physically present. "Up to see me after class?"

That's Somi, by the way. Yep, the leader of the student body who sanctioned you years ago. She's a real life Korean-Canadian doll. She'd be the stereotypical one, the face and brand—she's tall and slender, owning the hallways like she was the first step to ever be made in them. Blonde, too. You've met her years before and not once have you seen her natural color replace her dyed yellow.

The thing about her is that she's always just that shameless and energetic. She has one default personality and that is extroverted. 

She's also naturally flirtatious, and you know it doesn't mean anything else when she calls you derogatory names in sweet tones but you remain attached to her. We’ll just keep it at that.

"Aren't we meeting in social studies?" you chuckle. This girl can't get enough of being around people. Around you, to be more specific. But that's what friends do.

"Not enough, obvi.” 

“Right.”

“Is Nancy coming, too?"

"I think so."

"Darn it. I was hoping to…." 

You raise your brows in suspicion. "What?"

"Nothing. I said we're meeting up."

Let out a soft chuckle. "I didn't say yes," you inform her, just in case she forgot.

"And I didn't say that what you think about it matters, butthead. You know you want to see me. Tata!"

And it ends off with that. Click. 

Your smile is wide. That's Somi for you: a brat at heart, always getting what she wants one way or another, with a vocabulary that matches that of a spoiled heiress. Maybe she is one? You don't know but the branded clothes she often wears to school are getting a little suspicious. Among other things.

The locker space is packed with students, both juniors and seniors, male and female. They see you and start whispering among themselves. Some even make way. That wouldn't have been possible in your first year, but then Somi and Nancy happened. They made you the way you were. They made you a centerpiece. Do you like it? Admittedly, it strokes your ego well on some days.

Where's your locker key again? There it is. Click it into the padlock and swing the door open. Notes and trinkets from your two best friends are stuck to its walls. They said it was "for motivation." You let them believe that because it's true. Seeing Somi's wild happy calligraphy on the sticky note “Yep :) totally got it - Jeon <3”, compared to Nancy's more contained handwriting “Let’s get going!!!” always brightens your day.

Collect your social studies book as well as the mathematics one for the next period. Shut it, and a figure suddenly appears next to you.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Nancy!"

Oh yeah, that's how the scene opens to introduce the present Nancy McDonie. She's the brunette and calmer duplicate of Somi, but with an equally amazing body—

You won't go there. 

She has one arm pinned to the neighboring locker door and a small smile. "Language, handsome," she chides, patting your shoulder. "It's just me."

Oh, and the less sarcastic counterpart as well. Nancy calls you sweet pet names and means them. 

She’s grown fonder of you over the years. Nancy hates hard, but when she loves, she loves just as much. You’ve become so much better as a person and a newfound friend that she’s got no other choice but to keep you under her wing. 

So, it could be argued that she loves you.

Never the same way you do, like you started to right from the very beginning, when unfamiliarity stepped between you and kept your hearts away from each other.

"Hey there," you say, clutching your chest. It’s just Nancy, your other half. You've been friends with her a little after your makeover. Quite a long time, if you do say so yourself; it seems to have happened so long ago. Long enough to have you become one of the girls.

It's not derogatory, like other boys would think. Being friends with the girls is more fun than hanging out with the vulgar rebels from your old school. For what it's worth, being one of Somi's and Nancy's is a huge compliment. Not everybody could say they were friends with the popular kids.

Gulp. It’s so hard to act normal in front of her when she’s naturally charming, and her uniform’s made to hug every bit of her curves, including her exceptional ass. You’ve come to terms with the fact that you’re strongly and sexually attracted to her a long time ago, but it still proves to be a challenge not to stare. 

Besides, she trusts you. You’re her best friend. If you make a move on her, everybody would know and ruin your life for it, even if you’re fairly popular yourself. You’d be surprised by how quick people turn against others.

You’re not going to lie: she’s gorgeous, and the last thing that would be able to scare you is her beautiful face, but she can’t just show up like that out of the blue. That little pet name gets your gears going though. Your spirits are already afloat.

"Hey." She pats you on the head and peeks at the schedule taped to your locker. "Oh, you got social studies, too?"

"Y-you got that right."

"With Somi?"

"Yeah, sure. So?" 

Nancy, sweet as a lollipop, shakes her head cheerfully. "Nothing," she says. "I guess I'll see you there."

"See ya there." 

Offer her a two-finger salute and walk as quickly as you could although you're leaving with her. It's strange how she has your heart all bunched up when she shows up. She's pretty, yeah, but there's a certain aura about her calm demeanor that captures your stomach and keeps it tight. You hope no one gets you wrong—you like Somi, too, but Nancy has you wrapped around her little finger. She could tell you to jump off a cliff and you’d rush to buy out parachute stores.

And you’re staring at her as you switch classrooms. Your eyes are locked to her smile, her every move, her charm. Nancy was the last person you thought you’d ever be in love with—after all, she was the one who gave you sanction after sanction whenever you showed up at her classroom. Somi’s the one who went gentle with you, right?

But things happen. Plus, in a way, she’s changed you for the better. 

Your style wasn’t the only thing they made over. They helped you with your studies, your personal problems, and everything they could. Your grades went up, much to the surprise of your teachers, and you stopped your troublemaking. That was also to the surprise of your educators, but also relief. You couldn’t be more grateful. It was comforting to find new friends in a place so new. And from the girls you least expected, too.

Nancy looks at you twice, then laughs. “Why are you looking at me like you’re in love with me or something?” she says, slapping the back of your head.

Well, what do you know? She’s not far off. You could say that you’re in love.

Just the tiniest, most speckling bit in love.

“Maybe I am.”

“Stud,” Nancy says under her breath. 

She wouldn’t have dared say that in a nicer tone years ago.

The roll of her gorgeous eyes has you thinking of a scenario where it’s caused by something other than your flirtatious remarks. It would start with a flirtatious remark, then evolve into something more. Something beyond that.

Abstain from that thought. Instead, you gasp as if you belonged to the theater club with Jiwoo. “Did you just call me a slut?” you ask her. Raise your voice higher. You really hang out with Somi too much. “Everyone! Nancy McDonie just slutshamed me! I repeat, president Nancy McDonie just slut—”

A rough shove to your shoulder that neither you or Nancy expected blocks your words before they create controversy. Blonde fills your eyes as its Rapunzel owner says, “Get out of my way, creep.”

It’s such a low snarl that it alarms you. What made you a creep? Do you have to fight?

When you look up, you see that it’s no other girl than Somi. Despite what she said, she wears a cheeky, large smile. Return the grin and make it as Somi-like as possible; right, how could you forget the thing you and she have going on? 

“Maybe you should watch where you’re going,” you say, crossing your arms in faux annoyance. Yeah, you really should have tried out for that play. You could make it big as an actor.

“Oh yeah?” Somi looks you up and down. Is that bite on her lip also part of the act? “Why should I? I don’t even know your name.”

“I don’t know yours either. Is it ‘bottle blonde’?”

“Shut the fuck up. 2008 called and said they wanted their My Chemical Romance hairdo back.”

Nancy covers her face embarrassedly. She’s too proud to join the joke you and Somi have, so she’s left having to deal with the unnecessary attention your fake fights warrant. It happens almost twice every other day and people still look on to find out what’s happening. It’s what amuses you and her blonde counterpart. She and Somi are alike in many ways, all except the latter’s thirst for childish fun.

“Madams. Sir,” the teacher says. She’s miss Kim Sejeong, your social studies teacher whom you swear has been here before you were even born. The university students and graduates who’ve found their tune visit often and talk about her fondly, yet despite their ages ranging, she looks like she isn’t more than twenty-three years old. Her gaze is stern yet amused. “Do you plan on getting in? The air-conditioner’s expensive.”

While Nancy blushes in humiliation, the class erupts into giggles, and you and Somi can’t help but do the same. Each repetition of your rivalry routine is funnier than the previous one. It might be corny, especially to the other students who despise you for no reason, but it keeps your friendship solid. And what’s a better friendship than one with a few inside jokes? A strange routine?

It’s an unspoken and universal law in every classroom that even if there isn’t any official seating arrangement as to who’s sitting next to who, you still choose the ones you first sat at the beginning of the year. You’re a proud follower of that rule, and that’s why you’ve been sitting here in the front of the class with Somi and Nancy for ages. You have a secret stenciled artwork under this specific chair with an equation of your trio’s initials. It would mark long after you’ve graduated and went to pass on that you three were once best friends, and nothing could change that.

Somi leans against your arm before turning her head to glare at you. “‘Bottle Blonde,’ huh?” she says spitefully.

“Not as bad as ‘My Chemical Romance,’” you reply. That one stung a little. Does your hair really need a cut?

“Fuck you. I don’t fucking care what you say, I’ll be a blondie as much as I want.”

“And I suppose I’m emo now.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Her brows curl together at the sight of Nancy looking sour in the seat to your left. “You aight, Nancy?”

The girl nods. There’s red coloring her cheeks and ears. Kind of cute, actually. “Still alive,” she says, “after the shit you pulled there. Surprisingly.”

You and Somi bump fists. This is how it is with her. Opposed to you and Nancy acting like best friends just two steps away from being a couple, you’re more of a teasing older friend to her. You act like brother and sister, though your bond is much deeper than that. There’s something lingering in the air between you, and Somi seems to have caught it. What could it be?

You don’t have to think about that for now, not when your arms are around your two best friends in the world and now keenly listening to Kim Sejeong. That wouldn’t have been possible in your first year of high school, when things were completely different.

But, like you said, things happen. Things change. It’s just how they work, and it’s about time you get used to it being like that. You wouldn’t have had it any other way with your two friends, though. 

Sejeong waits for the three of you to get settled, then smiles welcomingly. “Now that we all have ourselves safely in our seats,” a stress there as she looks at you pointedly, “I suppose we should get on with your missed activities.”

Wince. You’re crossing your fingers, praying and begging that one particular girl doesn’t—

“What about the declamation?” Nancy asks innocently. “I thought it was due a month ago.”

A collective groan. You’ve gathered the class before to develop a plan to stall the feared exercise. Popularity, you believe, ought to be used correctly and for the common good. Keeping that declamation away is for the benefit of all. Not only is it an individual performance, but it makes up forty percent of your grade. It takes a hell of an effort to do it instantly.

No effort, so it seems, to Nancy McDonie. She’s the gooder girl of the duo, the perfect angel in all the right ways. She’s still right for this one—a lot of you just don’t like that truth.

“I thought we all agreed—”

“Somi!” you cut in, but she goes on shamelessly.

Somi stands up and looks at the class with genuine disappointment in her eyes. “—not to remind miss Kim about it. My god, you guys are, like, absolutely two-faced.”

It doesn’t take a while for the realization to set in with your teacher. Her stare is, as always, something that cuts straight to the soul. It sheds your dignity and leaves you bare for the eagle to eat of you. To be clear, there’s a reason why she was one of the teachers you never dared mess with. She was quiet but stern—a deadly combination.

"Oh. You kids are too smart for me, huh?" Sejeong laughs sarcastically. Her smile strips you of any attempt to wash her scolding off with a laugh. Can’t resort to that. Again, Kim Sejeong isn’t one to mess with. “That was more disappointing than anything the other classes have done. Do you think that just because you’re popular you can suddenly hold it against me?”

She uses the same lines you’ve heard back in your troublemaker days. Each word untaps a memory. 

You all stay silent. Somi doesn’t for long, when she’s called up to go first with the declamation since “you thought of the plan, miss Jeon,” according to Sejeong.

“But, but, but it wasn’t even—” the girl protests. Her pupils are wide with rage. She’s so used to saying anything and getting away with it. She can’t believe it won’t work out like that for her today.

“Now.”

She groans dramatically, and rises with slumped shoulders so odd to be seen on such a duchess-like, pampered girl like her. After all, she’s the stereotypical rich, blonde teen with impeccable fashion and manners that range from the sweetest to the meanest. Right now, she’s veering in the middle of the scale as she gets to the front center.

You mouth her a deserved, and she says I’m sooo gonna punch you in the balls later.

“Now, miss Jeon,” says Sejeong, arms furled in front of her chest. Yep, she isn’t backing down. “What is your solution to poverty here in this country?”

Nancy raises her hand. “May I go first instead?” she offers in hopes to save her friend. 

“You may not. Miss Jeon, please be brief. Start.”

Somi pouts, but faces the class with steady eyes. She’s ready for this. Mostly. Wringing out a pink bubble gum from her pink lips with pink-polished nails, she begins.

“So, you know how there are a lot of poor people. A lot. I know because I see a whole bunch outside the clubhouse and middle classers are always like, ‘Oh nooo, don’t give money to them, they’re gonna use it for drugs!’. And I’m just there going, ‘Gag me with a friggin’ spoon, Becky. Where the hell can you find drugs for a dime? Where?’.” She pauses for dramatic effect, then nods smugly. “Yep, that’s what I thought.”

Nancy brings her palm to her face. You’re giggling in your seat, muffling it with a few fingers. Sejeong’s eyes are wide and appalled.

“Okay,” the confident Somi continues, “for example, there’re a lot of poor people somewhere. Let’s say fifty. Oh, maybe ninety! That's super many, right?”

You and your classmates look at each other. You’re not certain where she’s going with this.

“You can’t have too many people at the same place, like that time I had all of my geometrics class for my nineteenth and it was a total flop. You have to keep them fed, y’know. So I had to walk my pretty self to the bakers which is like ten minutes away then ask them for more chocolate cake. My daddy was super mad at me for maxing out his credit card, but by the end of the day, we had more cake! More cake equals less hunger equals more dessert equals less poor people.”

The jocks at the back nod in agreement, cheering her on. She acknowledges their reassurances with a flirty wave.

"So, if the government just maxed out their credit cards and let poor people eat cake,” she says, with real conviction for someone who’s dragging her chewed gum out of her mouth coyly, “I believe with all my heart that there will be no poverty in America. Who’s with me?”

The modern Marie Antoinette. You raise your hand proudly. Try to get Nancy to raise hers as well but she’s red in the face again. 

“And to conclude,” Somi adds finally, “it should be everyone’s knowledge that there's no law in this beautiful country that says ‘Republic Act Anti-Poor People and Rich People Eating Cake Together Bunch of Numbers.’ I offer dessert for all to help eradicate poor people– I mean, poverty, led by our government and me, Jeon Somi. That will be all, thank you.”

The whole class gets up on their feet and applauds her. Like the princess she is, your blonde friend waves and bows, even blowing kisses. Meanwhile, Sejeong contemplates retirement and realizes she’s actually considering it, salary and all.

-

"You killed it, Somi. You fucking killed it." 

That's what you say to your friend after leaving the classroom with her and Nancy. You mean it—you've never had a belly laugh that rocked your body that hard before. She deserved an A instead of that disappointing C-.

Sejeong’s sitting at her desk with her head in her hands. Somi’s speech was impactful, it seems. So impactful that it has her fingers jotting down a lengthy text message to… the principal? What’s that for? The speech was great!

Your classmates have filed out to go to computer shops or study. They tell Somi she did great with her declamation, which you’re pretty sure is intended to humiliate her, but Jeon Somi only ever thinks of anything said to her as a compliment. That’s why she blows them kisses and flirtatiously cocks her brows. Yep, that’s her. Nancy’s a different story—always quiet and reserved, but daring enough to hold Somi back before she causes more chaos. But the lid of Pandora’s box has already been lifted.

You three are already far behind your classmates when they go out, but you don’t mind. You like it when it’s just you. No computer shop or mall could compare to being in the hallways with your best friends, trading jokes and stories.

"Killed what? Poverty?" Nancy asks, still in a dilemma over the drama in the social studies classroom. "Somi, you really have to start minding your words."

Somi blows a satiric raspberry. She raises her hands in dismissal as she walks faster then turns around anyway to face her. "Blah blah, who cares? It was an awesome declamation."

Chuckle. "I feel like that's up for debate," you say. "Did you see miss Kim's face?"

It was a look of judgment and disappointment. While everyone cheered and whistled for the other half of the McDonie-Jeon duo, your teacher had a look on her face that could be likened to the one you make after smelling something bad. Laughs were passed around the classroom but her eyebrows and squinted eyes etched an expression of real concern. 

"What if someone recorded that?" Nancy says. She has a hand on her shoulder to try and make her see the darker but truthful side. "You could ruin your chances of getting to a good college forever."

In these four walls of the corridor, your heart twists. Right—you only have a few months until you’re done with senior year. That means having to choose a course and college to go to. You didn’t think time would pass by that fast. By then, would you still be friends with Somi and Nancy?

You hope so. You look at their pretty faces and their hands in yours and wish high school would just last forever. You’d choose them over your standing, your popularity, everything. Sure, being friends with them brings inescapable attention, but you’d be fine without it if it means you could still be with them.

You sit down at the bottom step of the staircase. They follow, too. Open your textbook to skim through it, hoping that your stock knowledge for science would suffice.

“Ugh, college schmollege,” Somi says, crossing her legs and throwing her head back. When her pretty face comes back to view it’s mocking your other friend already. "Have you seen student debt? College just makes people poor. How’ll that help with poverty?”

You wonder how Jeon Somi could sound so knowledgeable yet so insensitive at the same time. It’s a feat that couldn’t be done by others. It’s like it’s her trademark: to be the wealthy girl who always says the wrong and right things that therefore blends into one, confusing mixture. Should you be offended? Happy? Anything?

Nancy leans on your shoulder with a sigh that blows the runaway strands on her face back with their kind. Sometimes Somi could be too much for her. It’s like she trades places with you and realizes how a beautiful girl could be a handful. That’s why you two are particularly close: you understand each other. You’re close with Somi, too, but you just have a deeper bond with the calmer girl. You still don’t know how it happened when she hated you at the start for filling her schedule because of your troubles. Some things just change as time goes on. 

“You just can’t be fixed, Somi,” you tell her. “You’re always going to be insane.”

You know you’re right. She knows it, too. It would take years and years of maturity for Somi to grow out of her flirtatious personality. She’d be the girl in college whose laughable questions somehow also awaken strange inquiries of your own. She’s a little weird, to be honest, but she’s pretty and confident. Smart, too—she just has her own way of showing it.

“I’m a simple gal, what can I say?” She stops before she could go on, as if she’s just caught a memory in the slip of her hands. “Oh, and I forgot to do something.”

“And that is?”

Somi lifts a fist and heavily plows it into your crotch. You yowl in pain as opposed to her grin that could reach the ends of the earth. Where did she learn that? That hurt like hell!

Nancy’s jaw drops to the floor. “Somi!” she says, genuinely shocked.

“What the fuck was that for!” you screech in the midst of your laughs, clutching your core and glaring at the convict of the crime which is assaulting your balls.

The fact that the criminal’s too pretty is an unfair advantage. “I did say I was gonna punch your balls earlier.”

“You owe me one, Jeon Somi!” 

“Hey, I wouldn’t have had to do it if McDonie here wasn’t a grody teacher’s pet.”

Nancy blushes. She's forgotten she's involved in the mess, too. “I’m sorry,” she says in a small voice. 

“I bet you are.” Somi shoves her shoulder playfully. “Cause and effect, Nance. C’mon, if you didn’t want to be a good girl so bad, I wouldn’t have declaimed or anything. Not that it wasn’t amazing.”

What a ridiculous conversation to have. You place your arms around both girls and pull them close. “Alright,” you declare, still wincing, “fuck, you’re both at fault. Nancy made a butterfly effect that ended up getting my balls aching. I’m the poor girls’ guy that got pulled into everything. What’re you gonna do about it?”

Somi floats her fingers on her cheek, thinking a little. It’s like a bulb lit above her head when her eyes suddenly brighten. You hope that it’s a good idea this time because when she makes that look, it isn’t for any good at all. 

“Nancy and I will discuss this, if you don’t mind,” she says, rising to her feet and tugging Nancy up, too.

“Me?” 

“Yep!”

She pauses. “Jeon Somi,” the latter sighs halfheartedly, “what are you planning now?”

Yeah, what is she planning? You have no idea and honestly, it scares you. Somi can be unpredictable with her quick wit and schemes, but with Nancy’s added ideas? Whatever she’s dreaming up, it can’t be anything you’d expect.

“The perfect apology. Meet us at my house after school. See you later, cutie.”

-

Your classes are filled with sprites of anxiety that are unusual when compared to your daily jokes and butt-ins. Your head’s filled with plenty of questions, and you try to answer them as you go about the rest of the school day:

First of all, why did the apology have to take place at Somi’s house?

Maybe they’ll buy a cake for you from the bakery she cited in her speech. She has plenty of money to go around so a cake might actually be possible. If it weren’t a cake, maybe an apology combined with balloons and confetti that you’d laugh about years from now. All these possibilities you sift through and yet they don’t seem to be what’s in store for you.

Second, why did the planning that had to occur without you?

They might be planning a big surprise. Perhaps that’s it. But then—

Why such a big surprise for an apology that could’ve been done simply?

That’s where your mind goes blank. You don’t know. You have no idea, not even the tiniest bit. You’ve been friends with Nancy and Somi for years but they still have that mystery around them. You know everything about them, from their interests to what makes the three of you click, but never what they plan to do. That always remains shrouded.

So, when Nancy texts your group chat the plan’s done!!! ♥ ️ be ready & meet us where youre supposed to :), you move like a snail. You take your time playing and talking to other students, buying food from the cafeteria, everything. When you get on the bus to commute from your school to Somi’s home, you’re wrecked by hesitation. All this anxiety and nervousness for a damned apology. 

Maybe it’s because you’ve never had friends like them before, especially that pretty. 

You would never intend to act on your feelings for them if they don’t want you to, even if you’re hormonal as fuck, but what if that’s what they’re planning? To have an intimate night with them, just like in the movies? 

Or, hopefully, finally let you have something deeper: a love that fits three?

Nope, two wishes that’ll never come true, whatever star you make them upon.

Drag your heavy feet down the road. Sounds like Somi’s rich-ass neighbors are partying again. Take your precious time leering at them, noticing the manner they hold their wine glasses and the music only being stolen off Spotify’s Most Popular Songs playlist. It’s all a headache, honestly. You’ve never connected well with rich people, not until you met the girls. That’s where it all starts and ends, right? Them: Somi and Nancy, the yin and yang?

“You’re here!” shouts Somi gleefully, throwing her arms around you. She’s dressed in this tiny shirt that looks cute and simple but you’re sure costs more than a few thousand won. It also shouldn’t be worth that much when it’s too little for her anyway. “Why did you take so long?”

Nancy goes in for the kill. She comes in with only a camisole and the undershorts of her uniform plaid skirt, and it hugs right where it maims and shoots you. No, keep your mind holy. She’s your best friend. Also your crush but that doesn't matter here. “Bet he was scared to come.”

“Was not,” you reply too quickly. Tighten your jaw. “I—I got held up by traffic.”

“It’s a Wednesday.”

“Yes, but—” Pause. You realize you don’t have a proper justification. “Just get to it, will you? The apology?”

“‘Kay ‘kay,” says Somi, wrapping an arm around your waist, literally keeping you at arm’s length just in case you try to scamper away, “the apology is a girls and boy’s night. Here. Just to get away from everything. We all need it.”

“Who’s ordering the soju?”

“Soju?” Nancy asks indignantly, eyes all round and wide like she was a deer caught in headlights. You and Somi are like that to her: flashing lights, crashing into an unsuspecting her with a brightness a notch too much. No apologies when you don’t plan to change. This is what makes you young.

“What’re you, a nun? We’re adults, Nance!” Somi says. Her thumbs tap away at her phone screen, the familiar pink lights flashing back at her indicating she’s already ordering. “It’s on me.”

Of course. Who other than Jeon Somi? Of course, you can’t let that moment slip away without a snarky remark from your end.

“Must be nice having access to your billionaire dad’s bank account.”

Somi twirls her fingers in her hair and squints her eyes at you spitefully. “I’m using my mom’s, poophead.”

“Oh wow,” you reply, your statement blank of any emotion.

“Guys,” cuts in Nancy. Her voice is strained. She feels like a mother trying to contain two kids who just know how to push her buttons. “We can’t have soju delivery. Or beer. Or whatever alcoholic drinks there are. We can get in trouble. Think about our grades. The suspensions!”

Ah, sweet Nancy, always the one to pull you back down to sense. But when has that ever worked?

“Alright.” Somi clicks her device shut and throws it on the sofa space you’ve left empty beside her. “Fine.”

Wait—what?

Her best friend twists her head in shock. “Really?” 

Nancy simply can’t believe that this girl, whose whole trademark is being a spoiled brat, actually follows sensible orders. You're surprised yourself; you can’t believe it more than she does. Is it finally time for Somi to perform her arc of being the mature, behaved girl she simply isn’t?

“Yep. You won.” Somi rises and waltzes her way to the exit of her mansion. “I’m just gonna buy some myself from the convenience store.” 

“Somi!”

“Hey, you only said no delivery! You didn’t say I can’t buy some face-to-face!”

“Well, now I’m making it official. No—”

“See you later, alligators!” 

The door slams shut. 

Nancy groans loudly. Of course, the little brat. 

She lets herself fall to the floor in defeat. The massaging of her fingers on the sides of her head doesn’t do enough to cast away the stress. How in the world is she going to control Somi? She knows the two of you are practically twins, the same in every way when planning schemes to make her freak out. She has to play babysitter again. How many nights has it been since the start of her unpaid duty?

On your end, you're thinking. You’ve been friends with her for longer than you think yet you don’t know how to say the right thing in situations like these. Maybe with Somi it would have been easier to say the comforting words. After all, she’s the most extroverted and blunt person you know. But with Nancy, it’s different. Nancy McDonie is never blue. At least, not to the point where she’s on the floor and moping.

It’s always different between the two of them and you still remain unable to pick who you love more.

It takes a while to get the words out, but better late than never. God, you’re such a bad friend. Do you even deserve her? “It’s fine, Nancy,” you say, sitting down beside her. You rub her knee. “Like she said, we’re adults.”

“I know, but…” Her voice trails off, and she lets out another groan that twists as it reaches your eardrums. “It’s just so scary.”

“Tell me.”

“What if someone posted photos of us drinking? You know the school handbook, right? All that talk about maintaining a good and clean self inside and outside the school. If someone finds out—”

"Yeah? Well, nobody will."

"Yeah, but there's always the possibility…"

You sometimes pray that Nancy's allowed a day without worry, that she doesn't stress over things for once. She's precious—you don't want her to feel bad about anything. This strange protectiveness always takes you when you're with her. 

“Hey.” You massage her shoulder. She whines, and it’s so cute hearing her unusual sulking that you just want to wrap a blanket around her and kiss her on the forehead. Again, urges. Simply urges. Don’t mind those. “There’s only three of us here. As long as we don’t post pics online or boast about it, we’re safe. So don’t worry about it.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Not when you’re with a dreamboat like me.”

You just humiliated yourself with that. Hell, you probably gave everyone who knows and will know this story of yours secondhand embarrassment. It’s worth it all, however, when Nancy smiles. And oh, could you get lost in it. Her eyes curl up at the corners and emit all this gorgeous, positive brightness that you think everyone should get a chance to see. She’s so serious and reserved in school that a smile from her is closer to impossible than thunder coming before lightning.

“God, you’re such a gigantic ass sometimes,” she mutters, bumping your shoulder with hers.

“Did you just say I had a huge ass?”

“Keep your mouth shut.” She pushes you, joining you in your laughs, then opens her arms invitingly anyway. “Oh, forget it. Come here, you.”

You can’t even pretend to not want a hug when it’s all you’ve ever fantasized about: being in the warm, filled embrace of Nancy McDonie. You’ve fantasized about things that extend deeper than that, but you could settle for this. There’s Nancy burying her head in your neck and her hold being a little too tight for it to be a casual touch between friends. You’re delusional, but who wouldn’t be when you had a best friend this pretty? This… curvaceous?

God, you don’t know how to say that you like this girl without sounding like another one of the weirdos who stalk her at school. Are you just like them? No, you can’t be. You’ve liked Nancy and known her more than they could. It’s what you tell yourself to keep your sanity. 

“You know,” she says, still rocking the two of you side to side, “they did say not to trust first impressions. ‘You better take advice. Never trust first impressions.’”

“Didn’t Michael Jordan say that?” 

“Did he?” She looks up curiously. 

“Never mind,” you say, waving it off. You pull away. Lean against the curve of Somi’s sofa so that your ass doesn’t slide like a mop on her floor. "What’s with first impressions? What was your first impression of me?”

“You really want to know?”

“Why not?”

“Well, for the first reason…” Nancy hugs her knees and looks at you pointedly. “Not a lot of people would love to know that they were a real fucking pain in the ass.”

You burst out laughing. There’s chances as slim as a ballerina that Nancy curses, but when she does, she sounds hilarious. She doesn’t even say them a certain way; it’s just the instance by itself of her daring to use words deemed as bad that gets your tears of laughter flowing. 

To add to that, there’s that matter-of-fact statement she made that’s as honest as Somi’s everyday talk that makes you think they switched souls for a second. You laugh harder with that in mind. The next thing you know, you’re curled up on the floor busting out cackles that reach pitches you can’t even shout in.

“Seriously!” she says. She’s laughing as well as she shakes her head in disbelief. “I was always trying to keep the seniors in place, you know, being president and everything. And then I found out this new kid just spammed middle finger emojis to sir Fernandez in the Zoom chat after he made him answer a question. And I was like, ‘Hooo boy.’”

“Well, he shouldn’t have called on me while I was playing a game!”

“You’re so immature, he’s a teacher and you’re in class! He’s supposed to do that!” Nancy squeals, a hand on her mouth to muffle her rambunctious cackles.

“Fine, fair point.” You somehow manage to make a successful attempt to halt your laughs. “And then what happened?”

There's a lot of secret lore between you and her. You want to uncover all of them, especially knowing that Somi's gonna tease you to hell about if she heard. Her getting soju was a blessing underneath another blessing—you got alone time with your crush and some nice alcohol to ignite your system.

Nancy looks around at her friend's house. She admires every perfect painting bought for millions, every chandelier that mistletoes whoever stands beneath all its glory. They help her form her next statement.

"To be honest," she says, choosing her words carefully, "I thought you were in it to blackmail money out of Somi. To manipulate her. I love the girl, you know. She acts like she's all that, and she is, but she's… fragile. So I never let her be alone with you."

"Damn.” You admit that your heart sank a little, like a ship doomed by the ocean. “Am I really an ugly creep?" 

"No, it wasn't that. I was just afraid you were a player. Like one of the jocks who bully Somi but don't ever get to her because she's too naïve to see that they're doing it. And you're not ugly, you know. You're…"

She's looking at you strangely, in that strategic little way she locks on artwork flashed in a Powerpoint from a projector in school. She's looking at you as if you were a complex, layered painting she couldn't wrap her head around. But being unable to pick you apart thrills her; there's a smile on her face.

"I'm what?" you ask, ever the dumbass. Or poophead—you take whatever.

"Don't make me say it. You're so full of yourself already."

"Respectfully, Nancy,” you declare, “I have no idea what you're saying. How can I when I didn't even know what a dodo was before eleventh grade?"

"You're handsome, okay?" Her cheeks get into this furious red color that she tries miserably to hide with her palms, hide with a dismissive laugh. "Good-looking. Attractive. Whatever."

Chew at the end of your lip to fight back a giddy grin. Did she really say that? A star out there in the looming night just granted your wish. "Well, you gave me the makeover back at Jessa's."

"Look at you being the patron saint of humility."

"I'm serious. I looked like a loser before you came in like a storm and rained that magic in my life."

“And now you’re Shakespeare.”

“When a girl like you comes into a guy’s life,” you say, leaning forward, “who wouldn’t be?”

"Well." Nancy huddles her chin into her palm. Her voice is as soft as cotton. "With a guy like you, you could say I never looked back."

But her voice dips, and there's a hidden subliminal message in it that causes you to look up. You could read it clear off her face there, off Nancy, off her soul that's never looked more clear.

Nancy, with her chestnut brown hair, ever the princess of autumn.

Nancy, with her comforting eyes full of resoluteness, as if she's wanted this to happen.

Nancy, with her lips barely a breath away from—

“Who the freak locked the door?” shrieks a familiar voice from outside. Well, not too outside when its volume closes in on the interior vicinity of the large mansion. “This is my house! Let me in or else I’ll call the cops—”

Sigh. Fucking cockblocker brat. You rise from the floor and approach the doorway. This time, you spare no time—you don’t want to look back and identify the look in Nancy’s eyes as you walk away.

“Calm down, the neighbors could hear you,” you laugh as you let the blonde girl in. You’re a little disappointed that she interrupted what was beginning to happen, but there’s time for that later. Can’t spare her an annoyed look, though. It melts when you see the cans of beer in plastic bags.

Nancy takes a bag from her sullenly. “No drinking past twelve.”

“No promises.” Empty a can into your open mouth. Somi claps her hands happily and almost drops all the alcohol she bought.

You help the girls stock the cans and bottles into the fridge. It’s the large, two-door one that could fit an entire person. Wait, it can contain all of you three? You’ve been to Somi’s so many times and only noticed it now. 

But that’s the last thing you take note of, for here's what's new: ice cream overflows Somi’s freezer, yet a lot of them haven’t even had a crumb consumed from them. Somi says it’s because she keeps them for cheat days. 

“Is today considered a cheat day?” you wonder out loud.

“Go crazy.” Indifferent, Somi gives you a tub each. Chocolate. Vanilla. Double dutch for her. “It’s not like Walmart’s gonna disappear unless the aliens come to Earth and have the bright idea to go wacka over there. Nope, Walmart’s always gonna have some more.”

“Aren’t you the best, Somi.” Ruffle her hair fondly while you scoop a humongous chunk of ice cream into your mouth. Alcohol and ice cream are delicious together, but your stomach turns around. It strangely stays intact, as if preparing for what might happen later tonight.

“Of course I am, are you buggin' or what?” 

Somi licks the spoon of its sweetness, staring right at you. You don’t know how to react—her tongue’s gliding all over the utensil perfectly, collecting the studded white with nothing but clean performance. Her eyes don’t let up in their strong, connected gaze. Your breath gets lost somewhere in your airway.

Nancy watches amusedly. Okay, so maybe she does smile more than you think—it’s unlike any other one though. This one of hers is lined to the edges with smugness. “There’s our princess,” she remarks.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The spoon catches somewhere sandwiched between Somi’s words. 

Nancy shrugs with a serene calmness. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

She walks away without another word or gesture. Suddenly tense in the bones, you and Somi close up together for reasons unknown.

“Is that just me being majorly freaky,” says Somi, eyes following her best friend with a new, imminent gaze, “or was that kinda hot?”

You don’t answer, but you think she knows. The two of you bond over shared experiences, and this one is about finding out how hot Nancy McDonie truly is. It’s not an unknown fact, but it’s the way her pupils settle over someone and linger just long enough to have them wondering; the way she commands a classroom; the way she rarely is vulnerable—it’s all that which leads to the very moment she leaned against the fridge door and watched silently, attracting the two of you even without the need for many words.

You’re droning again. Drowning, too, in her. In both of them—as you walk behind Somi, you can see that there isn’t a bra strap lining an imprint on her shirt and her ass is sticking out under her shorts. You barely could get yourself out of the waves as you wade your way to the stairs. 

At least that’s a familiar high place you could seek refuge from: the loft. It’s kind of like an attic, but you don’t really care. It’s where you hang out and watch all the movies with them from a crappy projector. You don’t care about the films due to your conversations with them eventually proving to be more interesting.

“Roof?” Somi asks. She peeks out of the triangular window pane. “The stars are pretty tonight.”

Never been there before. Not that you aren’t willing to try. “Just don’t fall off,” you warn, though you’re nervous yourself to get there. 

She slides a chair to you and then you’re climbing through a square-shaped gap at the low ceiling. You help the girls up onto the roof and become literally starstruck because—

Whoa.

Feels like a different world. The night is as vast as it is beautiful. Shining lights are embedded into the sky, the gray clouds barely visible with how they blend in with the color of the atmosphere. Each star has their own glimmer, but all of which share a common brightness—when partnered up with that large, pot-bellied moon, they become more perfect. The soft yet distinct sounds of the cicadas echo in your ears.

“Will anyone see us up here?” asks Nancy. Her vision is filled with shining galaxies, and her tone sounds dreamy. She says it in a way that isn’t out of concern for possible consequent trouble, but an appreciative one, as if she were wondering if anybody else could see how pretty it is up here.

“No one.” You shut the trapdoor and sit upon the curved edges of the roof. “It’s just us.”

“It’s just us,” she repeats this thoughtfully. You think that she’s smiling again, but you can’t be too sure.

Yes, it’s just you three. This intimate moment includes only you and the girls who turned your life around. Nobody else could get to bask in the simple happiness of hanging out all the way up here. This is for you, and no one else. Nobody could ever be friends with the girls the way you are.

You three take in the beauty of the night. All the way up here, the hills look higher than they already are. The sound of partying neighbors becomes static in the background. It becomes like foreign words in an uninteresting song—it’s nothing in comparison to the view of sloping roads, tall homes, and the trees swaying to the beat of the night wind. It can try its best to break your immersion and every attempt would be fruitless.

“Care for some double dutch?” Somi asks you. She juts out her tub of half-eaten chunks of ice cream. Appealing.

“As long as you don’t use the spoon you gave a blowjob to.”

Nancy snickers. She shoves your knee in reprimand, taking care not to put in so much force so you don’t topple down the roof and onto the main road. 

“I’ll give BJs to any spoon I want, thank you very much, but alright. Do what you want. No ice cream for you, more for me.”

“I could go for some.” Nancy parts her lips.

“Glad to see we still have someone with a brain around here.” Somi shakes her head at you disapprovingly.

You squint your eyes while she feeds Nancy some double dutch. Note dutifully that she uses the same spoon she violated. Well, that’s one thing you didn’t expect. But they’re best friends—they’ve been there for each other through thick and thin, bad and good. Sometimes simple gestures like that show that there’s something in the midst of them that beats mere friendship.

But then you see the way they look at you, and you’re briefly toying with the idea that whatever they have, they got it with you, too.

“I still remember the first time we brought you here,” Somi says, leaning in front of you so she can get to wiping some cream from Nancy’s lips. “You tried to act cool, but you were really starstruck. Like the house was Zendaya’s or something.”

“I guess so.” You freeze up when she holds your hand. “I mean, I’m not exactly the richest.”

You think of your own house—sweet little place with a tall tree and a low gate, nothing special—then compare it to hers: a mansion with six floors and rooms that could substitute for hotel clients. Nancy’s is amazing, too. But you don’t really care about that. It’s a whole other thing that bothers you about it.

Nancy shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter. You’re our friend. We’ll share it with you as much as you want.”

You’re finally able to name the thing. For months you’ve thought about it, but you never realized until this moment that it’s exactly what keeps you insecure about your friendship with them. That’s another thing they make you find out, besides style and bond.  

“Yeah, I get it. But, but I’m a loser. I was a punk who made school life hell for you. I’m broke. Stupid. I don’t get what made you want to be friends with me.”

Maybe you're like Somi, too. You act like a king in school with a red carpet draped down on the floor for you, but you fear that your crown is undeserved. Sometimes you feel like you're a peasant deluded by dreams of status and strength.

“Besides you being stupidly hot,” Somi says, albeit sincerely—there’s no sarcasm or flirtatiousness in her pitch, “you’re not in it for the cash. You’re not in it just to say you’re besties with us.”

“And trust me,” adds Nancy, “that makes you a prodigy among others.”

They're right. You aren't in it for the popularity, the fame, not even the everyday free treats and outings you get. You just… like them. Somi's bright confidence inspires you; you've never seen a girl more self-aware than her. And Nancy's someone who takes her studies seriously, an example you should follow, while still maintaining a social life. 

"What makes you so sure?" you say teasingly. They might've had some doubts along the way. 

"I dunno," Somi says with a shrug. Her eyes curve north. "We just are."

They just are. Short and simple, but it somehow explains everything.

Stars in the sky, stars in their eyes—they’re truly something else. Shouldn’t they be up there themselves? They glimmer too bright to be left here on earth, with a guy like you who can’t hold a flame to them.

But maybe you’re one yourself. Stars only ever mingle with their own kind. So there's the possibility that the three of you are stardust, simmered onto this world to shine in other places where they need it. It’s a laughable way to put it, almost cliche. But when you look at them, you realize you’re not far off.

"And I guess we know a lot more about you than we think." Nancy twirls her fingertips along your thigh. "Because we want to show we're grateful. And, y'know, sorry for the ruckus we caused back there."

"You already have. The soju, the ice cream… I'm already good."

She smiles. "You really don't get it, do you?"

Your mind can't keep up. What don't you get here? 

Somi leans forward and flashes you a smile that raises your suspicions. "You're completely clueless. Like, if it danced in front of you in a housewife apron, you would still order your dumb poophead ass some chicken wings."

"What? Why the hell would a hint be wearing an apro—"

You don't know why or how, but she's kissing you like you got the point she's been pushing across.

Now you do.

-

"Call this… a friend's sincere apology."

Somi's pushed you down on the old mattress of the loft, with a new look on her face that tells you tonight would be everything you expected and didn't.

"Two friends' sincere apology," adds Nancy. Her shorts are off? You didn't notice in the dark, but you can make out the supple shape of her hips and thighs, full and meaty in all the right ways. "Question is: would you let us do it?"

Your answer is locked and loaded in your throat. Can't pull the trigger when her ass muffles your face.

Alright, perhaps—just perhaps, you aren't saying it's real—you've devoted a few seconds of your time appreciating when the wind picks up her skirt at school. You tried not to be perverted because, of course, she's your friend. Your best friend.

A best friend doesn't push hers down a mattress with the weight of her core on his face. She doesn't let him feel her full cheeks suffocate him, or start to move like she would please a lover.

So what are you and Nancy when she's doing each of those things? 

Definitely not just friends.

"Fuck." The word leaves Nancy's mouth like a prayer. She doesn't pray often, but she religiously grinds her hips to and fro on top of you. The flat of your tongue massages her labia and tickles her prone clit. She's so wet that your lips quickly become coated. She looks back and moves her ass with stressed slides. "Your mouth is so good. So fucking good."

"Already?" Somi chuckles. She's not just your best friend either; her thighs hug one of yours and, like the girl she's always seen giggling and whispering with, she's grinding. Her movements are admittedly more fluid, but who's keeping note? "You talk real dirty for a prude."

Your pants slide off your legs as she finds the bare skin more appealing than denim. You flex and send a moan from her so carnal it might have literally clawed its way out of her throat. It's sharp. Needy. Wanton. Somi doesn’t speak like the rich princess she is when she moans for cock.

"I'm not a prude," Nancy says. Her breath is tinged to the tone with air. She's gasping as you tongue her and lick at her lips. "I just like being chaste."

"Please, sweetheart, you're aaanything but chaste."

"S-says the one who's sucking him off."

Both girls have mouths on them. Somi in particular. It's word-for-word how her lips trap your cock and start off with a strong suction. You moan right into Nancy's pussy. Said girl cries out when your lips strengthen their merciless suction on her pearl.

If you were to consider everything like a butterfly effect, you'd say Somi started it all: the sucking and moans. She's the one who's massaging your cock with those pink lips, effectively causing you to lose control and take it all out on Nancy. Poor Nancy, always the one to take it all. Now it's for good; she's squeezing her breasts and riding your mouth like a saddle. 

"Blowjobs don't count!" Somi quips. You moan again; the tip of her tongue toys with your balls. It's like she lit a fire there no wetness can put out. (Well, you still have to see about that.) "We'll show him how real good girls say sorry later. You know what I mean, right, babe?"

That fucked nickname does things to you, even if it's not meant for you, because it foretells the sight you have to fight to see with Nancy's back blocking it: Somi placing her hands on her best friend's hips and guiding her movements on your mouth. 

"Y-yes." You're surprised at how submissive Nancy sounds. So different from the commanding tone she assumes in morning assemblies. 

You didn’t expect you’d be in this position. Another thing you didn’t expect was how wet Nancy is, and how she tastes. She’s tangy yet sweet, filling your mouth like a new favorite flavor. She also moans a lot, which is strange when she doesn’t really talk much outside of this setting. You’ve changed her, too. Just not in the way like she did taking you to Jessa’s. No, this is your way: keeping her drenched little pussy filled with a soft muscle that’s hard enough to have her legs shaking. 

"That's right. Move that fat ass for him." Somi sits on the side with one hand on one side of Nancy's waist and another on your cock. She jerks you off hard, with a grip that's both too tight and too good. "Your nipples are sooo hard, Nancy. Just a hunch of mine, but I think you want me to suck on them. Make you cum on his handsome face."

Precum dribbles from your cockhead. How could Somi, the girl who speaks in coy accents, talk so filthy? She knows the time and place for that mouth, and it's right now and on Nancy's waiting breast.

Your length goes through bouts of impossible tightness induced by Somi's fist while your mouth (gladly) suffers another burden, which is Nancy's pussy and ass gyrating down on you. Your tongue doesn't know where to go so it goes everywhere: licking a wet line on her slit, diving into her drenched hole, teasing her clit. Nancy's thighs slam with your head in between. 

"Fuck!" Her moans are straight up pornographic. "Oh, oh, it feels so good, don't stop!"

Somi runs a teasing finger on your slit, keeping the heat in one place before resuming having her palm wrap your dick. "Who says we're stopping? Yep, nobody. Just keep moving those hips, lovie. We still got so much to give him."

You didn't think it was possible, but yes. Nancy does sprawl out more, her outed pussy lips all puffy and sore from your doings. You’re ruining her with how you lick and let her push down. Her core must be strong for her to keep a good stance in the midst of it all.

It’s not like you’re left out. Somi’s to thank for that, with her hand not stopping as it pumps and pumps and pumps. The pace is dangerous like a feared waterfall that’s got signs telling travelers to be wary around it. She pulled you into it. It isn’t that you wanted to suffer under the rapidity when you feel comfortable with the descent and rise.

"Ah. Ahhh, please!" 

Nancy never begs. She's above that, just like she is with everything else. But listen to her pleas and begs for more, for you to keep licking and sucking at the right places, for your hands not to pause in their journeys roaming the land of her perfect, curvy body. 

Somi spanks her, and you quite literally feel her cheeks bounce in your face. You'd actually be okay with going out this way. Heaven could be found in Nancy's full ass.

Oh, right, and Somi’s hand. You’ve never taken Somi as the kind to get around a lot even when she acts overly sexual sometimes, but she must have learned those skills somewhere. Her hand is neither too tight nor too loose—it’s just the perfect grip for you to almost cum into her fingers. She’s determined to wring a climax out of you, too, with how harsh she slams her hand down on your core.

It’s a cycle of pleasure that has no means of ending. With Somi fingering herself, you getting the best handjob you’ve ever had, and Nancy having her pussy eaten out, none of you are left to waste away. It’s sin, that’s what it is. It’s an act that, if anyone had caught sight of, would have guaranteed a swift suspension—maybe even the chance of getting expelled.

But in this warm moment, all of you forget about that. Even Nancy has that off her mind when all she’s thinking about is your tongue delightfully fucking her wet hole. 

“I’m… I’m cumming!” she wails. Her riding on your face spirals out of control, and again and again you’re blessed with her ass suffocating you. 

It’s too much for one girl to take: a mouth going crazy on her pussy and another doing the same, if not crazier, on her tit. Your sucks and Somi’s own increasing when she announces her imminent bliss doesn’t help her case either. But maybe it does—she’s never felt this good. Whenever she secretly, scandalously toyed with her pussy under the covers at night, none of those porn videos and literotica made her cum as hard as you and Somi have. It feels like a large bubble has burst inside her when she finally releases, tensing up and freezing similar to if a frostbitten cold finally took its last toll on her.

She sighs heavily while she comes down. Her thighs shake and you have to pin them down the creaky mattress to keep eating of her. She shudders and pushes you down. You stop, like she hinted.

“You alright, Nancy?” You remember Somi asking a similar question earlier, in a situation that’s nothing compared to this. Yep, far from it. A continent away. You weren’t eating her out like a last meal in the classroom, were you?

Well, you would have wanted to if you’d discovered prior that her ass is really as nice as it looks.

“Yes,” she replies weakly. 

You’re glad.

“I might have to try and get you to eat me out, too,” Somi says to you. She helps Nancy to get off your face after you got her off. “She was screaming, did you hear? You’d think somebody was like getting killed and– oh, wait, of course you couldn’t hear. Her thighs are just the perfect things to have wrapped around your head, right?”

Nancy blushes and looks away..

“But I think we should take the lead." Somi stops jerking you off. What quickly washes away your disappointment is when she takes her shirt off. "We’re the ones giving back.” 

The recoil of her large chest is amazing; it rises as it’s hindered by the tight hem of her clothing, and settles back into its natural position after she rids herself of the fabric. Her rosy nipples are things work gawking at; they’re as stiff and hard as diamonds, telling you of how much she wants this. And you think you’ve seen a few of Somi’s diamonds she could purchase a whole mine of, but you’d still have a desire similar to the blonde’s: you want her more.

“I’ve seen you looking at them. Don’t pretend and go all ‘oh nooo, that’s not true.’” She gives her own gifted bosom a firm grope. Her head throws back due to the pleasure. “You stare all the time. It makes me kinda assume that you want me to do something with them.”

“And what could that be?” you ask in a futile attempt to match her cockiness. Should’ve known that it’s a losing game trying to beat Jeon Somi in being a brat. It’s a god-given gift, a skill that needs no honing. She’s just like that.

“Duh. Like I said, I’ll show, not tell. This isn’t primary school.”

She shows a hefty amount, you’ll tell her that. Your mouth falls out at what happens. She takes her tits into her hands and leans down to envelope your cock in them. She seals it tight around your girth. 

Fuck.

She then starts to move. Up and down she goes, toying with her nipples on the way. It makes her core more drenched than it already is.

She’s the master of eye contact. She picked it up with her natural confidence. Why do you think she walks the hallways with a gaze that’s only directed straight ahead? Talks to new kids like she already knows them? She’s never seen weak, and tonight is no exception. Her fierce eyes speak of lust and strength of knowing she’s having her way. 

Jeon Somi always gets what she wants.

Again, this time is no exception. 

“Fuck, Somi…” you say in quiet groans. 

Someone needs to pinch you. This can’t be real. Never did you think what you’ve been dreaming would actually come true. The nights you touch yourself to the frequent sight of her tits practically bursting out of her uniform, you think of this same exact thing. You think of using her breasts like a toy, and now you’re experiencing it for real.

Perhaps one of the stars out there really took one for the team and granted two of your wishes at the same time.

Are you in wonderland? The movement of her tits provide a solid pace that’s hard to keep up with. Its warm, slick embrace has you on the edge of the mattress. You don’t ever want to run away from this feeling. It’s slick and tight yet rough, giving you a pleasure that’s confusing just as it is enjoyable.

“How’re you doing there?”

“I like it. More than like,” you breathe. Swallow what’s already been said.

Somi’s tits are a dream. They might as well have been made out of clouds with how soft they are, even when hugging your dick. You see yourself disappear between them and moan. Look up at Somi and see her seductively bite her lip; moan harder. Who knew all that barky flirtatiousness had a bite to them?

“Really?” she asks. She stops for a regretful moment to slap your cock against the side of her boob. The curve of your length heats up. “Couldn’t have guessed.”

She resumes, and you couldn’t be more thankful. The friction is everything to live for, and you’re a man who’s had no wish to die. Somi’s pale chest, guided by her hands trapping your cock between the massiveness in front of you, propels you to a close orgasm.

You switch your focus briefly to Nancy. She hums from afar. You notice that her fingers are in between her legs. She’s enjoying it as much as you are. “Could you stop being a brat for like, one second?” she chuckles, though it twists between her moans.

She’s sitting on the floor with her well-eaten pussy splayed to welcome her digits, and they definitely are welcome visitors. Her mouth is open though no more words come out.

“What? He likes it.” Somi jumps the pace to a rapidity you cry out for, and smiles that smile. The smile she only does when she’s doing or will be doing something she shouldn’t be. Explains a lot—if you two were just best friends, she wouldn’t be titfucking you. “And this is an apology, right? I’m saying sorry for punching him in the balls.”

“God,” you laugh out loud in spite of it all. “If this is the way you apologize, I’d have you punch my balls everyday.”

“I could do that. Say your apologies, too, Nancy. The way you’ll know he likes it.”

It’s as if she made your wet dream and worst nightmare come true. Can you even take more? It’s a question that apparently is disregarded of its answer; Nancy crawls over to the edge of the old, discarded mattress to suck on your swollen balls whenever Somi’s tits rise. 

They’re arsonists, and your whole body is the unfortunate victim. Although they attend only to your crotch except for the here-and-there brushes on your stomach and legs, your toes and arms burn. Somi and Nancy are sending heat waves everywhere. You twist and turn and propel and cry—none of those banish it. And it’s for the better because you’ve never felt closer to paradise.

You have to groan loudly. It can’t be muffled when the sensations are coming at you all at the same time. You can feel Nancy’s tongue dragging its edge along your sensitive flesh and her friend’s tits bouncing around you; see the two students’ sultry looks never breaking; hear one girl’s grunts as she fucks you with her bosom and the other’s moans; touch the mane of Nancy’s autumn hair to pull her deeper into your crotch; taste an orgasm that couldn’t really just come now when it’s this close—

“Oh shit, fuck!” The most senseless of curses come out of you after Somi’s titjob provokes a messy, violent orgasm. You’d be more coherent than that if she were letting up. Not possible when she doesn’t; she keeps bouncing up and down to jerk your cock off with her deep cleavage.

Somi hums delightfully at the never ending spray of cum on her tits. Nancy stops suckling harshly at your left testicle in order for her to be able to do it instead to the rod beside it. 

“Nancy, fuck, so good—” you say, hissing as your hips rise up.

You’re inadvertently facefucking her like this. Your hips move with their own will. They push up hard into Nancy’s beautiful lips. She in turn reacts with spontaneous downward drives of her head, welcoming you into her tight throat and letting you savor her mouth.

Somi fixes the girl’s hair into a ponytail of brown. She could see the bulge you’re making on her throat. She nods her on whenever Nancy looks at her with hesitation, and rubs your thigh to get your sensitivity levels to an all-time peak. She certainly got what she wanted and expected, as per usual, for you’re moaning with the tone of someone who gets paid to do it; shivering though it’s anything but cold here in this loft that’s gotten warm for other reasons besides the fireplace.

Nancy gags as she pulls away. Now she’s poured on by the white rain, too; some get into her hair while the others find a landing place on her shirt. God, that must have been expensive. You’re not here to make reparations, just to remind yourself; this is for you. They gave you this opportunity.

However, your heart pumps with anxiety hearing Nancy hack and cough. You quickly get to the floor, knees shaking on the way. “Hey,” you start, with a thumb on her chin, “you want to keep going?”

It doesn’t look like it for a second, but then those beautiful dark eyes connect with yours and suddenly all the discomfort is away. She smiles.“Y-yeah!” she says with a half-giggle. “All okay here.”

“Awesome.” Somi pats her back repeatedly and strokes her hair. “I was beginning to think I wouldn’t get you to suck on my tits.”

You look at said tits and gulp. Yeah, that beautiful chest covered with your release is tempting to be gawked at. But still, time and place even for jokes. Nancy’s about to have a goddamned asthma attack.

“You are so out of line sometimes,” you say to Somi disapprovingly. 

“It’s alright.” Nancy grins. Wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Nobody said apologies weren’t hard to do.”

The look of defiance and mischief softens on Somi’s face. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I’m sure he won’t mind, right, oppa?”

“Yeah,” you butt in, something you would have done even without Somi’s jab at your shin. Dear god, is the girl a bodybuilder in disguise or something? That hurt almost as much as the punch to your balls. “Nancy, I appreciate it and everything, but if you want to back out—”

Look, this is everything you wished for. You wanted to have intimate moments with them probably since  just a few months before the friendship was sealed. They’re beautiful girls, and you love Nancy especially closely. However, if they want to stop, you have to. Not to become a white knight or anything, but that’s natural law. You don’t force anybody into it.

“It’s okay, seriously.” Nancy’s relieving words now pass more smoothly through her lips. “Are you liking it so far?”

Alright, another thing to analyze. What else is there to answer? “Yes” is a painfully obvious reply to her question. You’ve had her ass on your face and Somi’s tits screwing an orgasm out of you. This is what wet dreams are made of, except that the white leak doesn’t end up on the fabric of your sheets anymore. 

It ends up on Somi’s amazing chest. Any man would die to catch sight of them. They’re round and full, settling at the perfect position whenever she breathes while covered from areola to nipple with your sticky load. Your semen even slides down to her midriff. You’re more convinced that she’s a bodybuilder—for this, it’s more obvious: her abs are hard and firm. You’ve worked out a lot and have not once gotten to that point of solidness.

Your cock can’t say the same.

“I loved it. You?”

“I liked it, and, and I—” 

“You want to answer him, brunette-ie?” Somi asks mockingly, swirling white on her collarbone. Yet another wonder to gawk at.

“That doesn’t work for other hair colors,” points out Nancy with a giggle.

“It does when I say so.”

Nancy tilts her head. Her smile suddenly doesn’t look too playful anymore. “Not everything’s gonna go your way tonight, blondie.”

“Is that so?” Somi curls her hair from her shoulders and tilts that pretty little head they hold. “Because if I have to say it again, McDonie, it’s—”

Nancy knows there’s no point arguing with her. It’s not the right occasion today. Fortunately, she has better ways of making Somi shut up.

It’s not completely shutting her up when all it does is make her create more noises. These are more pleasant to the ears in comparison. When Nancy attaches her pretty lips to her best friend’s tit, Somi’s words freeze in midair. You could see all her brattiness melt drop by drop. Her eyes are wide and she lets out a whimper. 

If your cock was flaccid already from the raunchy sex (because you started it all off with a bang, literally,) it isn’t now. It perks up hard upon seeing the most beautiful girls you know engaging in such obscene acts. Nancy’s already shown you how talented her mouth is, but she’s only hanging the knowledge out for everyone to see with how she cleans Somi’s right breast of your cum. The nipple she performs on is stiff, and she takes special care in gently guiding her teeth along it. 

“Fuck,” Somi says, voice breathy. All those little signs—her breathing shortening whenever Nancy dares to suckle a little bit harsher, bite a little harder; her legs suddenly shaking and weakening—lead you to a conclusion: they’ve done this before. Whether for rehearsal for this moment or for just mere curiosity, it’s hot nevertheless.

“Now will you shut that dirty mouth up?” Nancy uses that exact voice in the classroom, and hearing her use it in this moment makes her sound so much sexier. Gone is the passive prude that she is (or is pretending to be? That voice can’t be birthed from just leadership skills)—she knows how to put a brat in her place.

“If you think,” says Somi, with a laugh that’s too pitchy to be genuine in its sarcasm, “that sucking my boobs’ll make me a good little bitch, then you’re wrong.”

Is Nancy wrong? Probably. Somi’s the most defiant, outspoken girl you know. Nothing has stopped her from getting her way. You bet if Armageddon came into reality and all the world went to shit, Somi would be commanding the demons to get her a pumpkin spice latte and the angels to call her a limo.

“So you don’t want to be good and get on his cock?” 

Nancy stands up. You’re once again reminded of the eternally truthful fact that her ass is amazing. She shimmies it on your cock, slipping it between her cheeks but never really allowing penetration, and afterwards starts to bounce her butt beautifully for you. 

You can’t help but run your hands all over the perfect fat thing. You  lift the cheeks to let them ripple photogenically as they settle down, going as far as well to give her a few spanks. You’re lost in this sex-filled dream. You’re in a coma seeing the too-good-to-be-true ass of Nancy McDonie.

Somi twitches her mouth to one side. “I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t want to feel his big fat cock inside you,” and Nancy’s more dangerous than you think—she takes your cock and starts to tease its head on her lips and asshole, “and really get a taste of how he stretches you out?”

You bite your lip, enjoying what she’s doing to you and Somi. Your other friend has never looked more needy—large, rabbit eyes peer jealously at Nancy getting to have you for herself. Or is it the other way around? The looks she gives Nancy’s drenched pussy and your solid cock are equally full of hunger. 

“You want to answer, blondie?” An echoed statement, but it doesn’t lose its effect on Somi.

Nancy smirks. She’s a natural-born leader, often managing to fight her way to be in charge. It isn’t the same for the other, who’s been raised to have everything her heart desires. Right now, seeing you hint to fucking her best friend is making her needy. Really needy. She wants you for herself, too.

Nancy shrugs at Somi’s continued refusal to answer. “Suit yourself,” she says. She twists around to face you and commands, in a loud whisper, “I want it in my ass, oppa.”

“No!” Somi finally breaks. Her cheeks are pink. “I mean, like, not yet. Fine. Whatever, f-fine, I’ll be good. Just let me have him, too.”

“That’s more like it.” Nancy kisses her, a feat that has you blushing regardless of you not being the recipient of that gesture. “He and I can do that later.”

Somi scrambles to her feet the second Nancy leaves your lap. With no hesitation whatsoever, she plops herself down on you, filling herself to the hilt all at once. Her toned back is turned, but you can paint a picture of her face as she moans. Her mouth parts widely to cry out, and you could imagine her staring at the black insides of her eyelids as the wonderful filling results in getting her to see stars.

“Ohhh my god,” she drawls out. Her legs shake. “You were gonna fill your ass with something this big?”

You reach up from behind her to squeeze her tits. You can’t believe your dick had the chance to feel them before you did—they could do a role as stress balls; they’re soft, large, and you’d love to squeeze them any time of the day. Yep, also on the times you aren’t stressed in the first place. That’s how perfect Somi’s alluring breasts are.

Her pussy is the main attraction to all of this, however. She’s obviously so turned on—her wetness is like an avalanche of need on your cock for it floods your shaft without the need for an orgasm. Not that you aren’t gonna give it to her. When her pussy’s this snug and warm, this wet and tight, how are you going to do anything but make her cum?

You start to hump her rabidly. Your hips send her bouncing up and down on your lap, making it so that whatever happens, her starting point and ending point is always your cock. Somi’s moans cut and break into emphasized cries. In your hands, her tits make gravity look so appealing; they bob high in the air and rest heavily into your palms. There’s always a sharp rebound, a sharp cry from her. Her moans just make fucking your school’s signature brat a five-star experience.

“What did I tell you? I’m not a prude,” Nancy replies smugly. She spreads Somi’s legs to the point that she’s technically doing a split on your dick. “I also know how to suck on this little nub right here. Like I did to your big tits, remember?”

At first, Somi doesn’t get what she means. But then Nancy licks quickly at her vulnerable clit, and she understands it fully. “F-fuck, Nancy unnie!” she cries out.

She tenses up in your lap. As an effect, she gets impossibly tighter. You fight it with sharp thrusts, but she always ends up closing around you. You pierce her tightening walls and find that no amount of wetness and slick could get her to part her walls. 

“‘Unnie’?” Nancy licks up and down. In the face of it all the run of her voice remains gentle. You splay Somi’s pussy lips to help her out. “You never call me that. Do I have to suck your clit everyday to get you to have some manners?”

Oh, but Somi can’t be taught manners. Just a few licks around and on her bundle of nerves has her forgetting to use a proper inside voice. It’s hopeless when she’s screaming and writhing all over the place. That’s what the combination of your thrusts and her fellow council president’s tongue does to her: it turns her into this crazed nympho just begging to be touched and used.

She’s lucky to have friends like you and Nancy who are willing to be patient in teaching her. Your methods aren’t the most orthodox, you’ll admit—what kind of friend would team up with another in ruining her cunt?

“The princess here needs to learn a lesson, after all,” you whisper in her ear. Your hands on Somi’s wide hips, your fire pumps harshly into her without daring to slip out. Nope, you’re staying inside her forever. “You’re gonna be a good girl, aren’t you, Somi? You’re gonna let us fuck you into being a good girl?”

“You sound so stupid, you know that? Like you came from friggin’ Fifty Shades of Gray or something.” Somi sticks her tongue out at you, then it idly hangs from her lips after you reprimand her with a few scolding thrusts. She begins to whimper, eyes filling with tears of need. 

“Tell us to stop then.” You aren’t fazed. You know what that face she makes means too well. 

You propel up into her with the force of one who almost hates her to be fucking her like that. You spread her legs wider. Bury your face into her hair because she’s your blondie.

She says nothing.

You toy with her nipples, flicking and pinching them.

She utters not a single word.

Nancy slips her tongue inside for a brief moment, joining you, then places kisses on her inner thighs. 

She finally makes a noise, and it’s a couple sounds stringed into whines. 

It’s not the childish one she makes whenever she’s refused something as miniscule as a bite of a doughnut, but one of real weakness. She just showed the two of you where her Achilles spots lay. She’s a sucker for this, and all the same, you’re a sucker for her neck and shoulders that always smell of lilies. Take it all in before leaving love bites all over the pale, prone skin.

She takes deep breaths.

Nancy asks her if she’s cumming, and she screams—

“Yes yes yes! Just keep eating me out, Nancy unnie, keep fucking me, oppa! I’m gonna cum so hard!”

Nancy makes a show of licking the underside of your entering and exiting cock all the way up to Somi’s pussy lips. The two of you groan ecstatically. This she repeats until your precum starts to wet Somi’s walls and Somi’s clit is practically quivering from the abuse. It doesn’t stop there. She grabs Somi’s tiny waist and pushes the girl’s core into her mouth. 

“Shit, Nancy!” Somi gasps lewdly. The new position gives you ample space to take time in withdrawing then slamming every inch into her aching body. “I’m gonna cum, gonna c-c-cum, please—fuck!”

There she goes. She falters heavily into you as her orgasm takes over. 

You caress her rising and falling midriff, suddenly wrapped into the need to help her come down. You kiss the back of her ear and her neck. Whisper sweet everythings there (because you mean each one: you’ll take care of her all the way). Nancy stops eating her and rubs her thigh comfortingly. 

Through it all, Somi’s still your baby. The girl you tend to because you know she loses herself sometimes.

This is the calm after the storm. For a moment, it’s all soft. Somi may remain with her pussy filled with your length, but it doesn’t change the tenderness you have for her. For Nancy. For the relationship the three of you have.

“Are you all bright and happy there?” 

“Fuck you, of course I am.” That tells you she’s not tapering off lust-induced insanity that much. If she were, though, she’d still maintain that feistiness. “I can’t believe we did that. And I can’t believe you didn’t cum inside me.”

“Safe sex, princess.” Nancy’s back to her serious yet half-joking self. She brushes Somi’s nose playfully. “Didn’t you listen to sir Lars?”

“I’m safe today, though…” 

“Hmm. Next time?”

“Next time,” replies Somi with a bit more satisfaction. “For now, I want to see you get your ass fucked.”

Maybe it’s going too fast, like an amateur author’s prodded pacing with a debut novel, but in the flash of the moment you find that you don’t care. You and Nancy share one look and just know tonight is going to be different than all the other ones with hookups, exes, everything. This one runs deeper—it’ll define who you are for the rest of the evening.

Somi sits down at what used to be the headboard of the mattress. She’s good with just watching after the violent orgasm she had. Nancy really went all-out. Must have still been thinking about that speech she made.

Your mind stalls on Nancy right now. She’s on her hands and knees, and she’s looking back at you with this nervous yet crazed desire. It’s written clear on her face. Then there’s the rest of her beautiful body—that back, her full thighs, that ass. You knew she was beautiful with a great body to go with it, but you didn’t really figure it was an unfiltered truth until now.

“I—I brought lube,” she says timidly. She looks away, and it’s so unlike her to be this meek that your instinctive reply is a laugh.

“You came prepared.” 

Somi throws you the bottle, and while you lather some of its content on Nancy’s asshole, you’re faced with millions of questions. “I assume you planned this? Or do you just bring lube whenever I’m around?”

Nancy rolls her eyes. God, do you love to make them do that. You were born to. You were made to make her roll her eyes at you between her laughs. “Stud,” she whispers.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” She still hasn’t figured out it isn’t derogatory with you. Or with any guy for that matter. You chuckle softly. Love how her hole closes tighter the second you wipe some of the handy liquid on it. “Ready?”

She nods. There’s hesitation, but the upward perk of her ass can’t mean anything else than transparent want. 

“Boooring!” Somi yells out, arms in an “X”-sign in front of her. You’re the actors, and she’s the disapproving film critic. And god knows how insufferable film critics are. “Ever heard of porn without plot, you absolute doodooheads?”

“Porn without plot? You read way too much fanfiction, Somi. Like, way too much.”

“Hello? Peepee in the poopoo hole now, if you please.”

You give her a tired look in spite of your small laughs. “Can you make it sound any less sexy?”

“She’s right,” Nancy says in a tiny voice. “I want you now.”

There’s the (with a trademark after that) look again, somber and wide. She needs you. You need her. So why are you stalling? Idiot. You need to put yourself together.

Slip past the defiance of Nancy’s asshole, and curse immediately. It isn’t even halfway in and you’re already close. She’s too tight that it almost beats the tightness of Somi’s pussy. You’re not sure you’re ready for this. Run your hand along Nancy's back and feel the sweat stick to your hand. She’s nervous. In pain. At least, you assume so.

“Need to breathe?”

Nancy winces and nods. “A few seconds.”

It’s hell itself trying not to give in to your instincts and pound away into her ass. It’s just so perfect, the way it trembles and shakes and unintentionally sends vibrations your way. Sends those full cheeks bouncing.

Even in a state of need-to-get-it-together, Nancy still looks her prime. Her hair, all those chestnut locks, sticks to her back as she pants. Her face has never looked prettier. She’s gorgeous as could be, and you realize that it’s these moments—not her beauty pageants where she’s all dolled up by attending stylists, not when she manages a glow-up (when she already is the most beautiful woman you know) weeks before class pictures are taken—that take your breath away. She’s just there, just existing, and you maintain your preposition: down bad.

“Tell me if you lovebirds need to stop,” says Somi. “Because what I’m seeing here is– oh my.”

Nancy starts to fuck herself on you. She wants to do this—Somi’s words are her motivation. Her ass constricts tighter and tighter as you penetrate her, but you make it work. Make it fit. She’s so stretched out but she doesn’t stop. It makes you temporarily heed the idea that a glitching robot is controlling her. The recoil and push of her ass are too rough.

“Fuck,” she whispers, eyes squeezed shut firmly. “Feels so fucking good.”

If you’re making Nancy curse, it’s either really good or really bad. You’re betting on the former. Her ass rotates and circles before you, welcoming her into its depths, and you can’t find your breath again. You must have lost it, lost it somewhere in the atmosphere that smells of sex and sweat.

There isn’t even any foreplay to go by. She simply pushes back and takes every inch of your dick. While you lost hold of your breath, Nancy’s found hers, and puts it to good use with her moans. 

“You’re… opening me up so much,” gasps Nancy. She looks back to see that you’re forming a steady reciprocal rhythm that’s starting to gape her hole. 

“Should I go slower?” you ask hesitantly. You slip a hand to her mound then settle a thumb over her clit. It throbs, still sensitive from the sucking.

“No, god, no. Go faster. Please.” Her words are broken off like blunt phrases, but you catch on to her meaning. She wants it fast even for the first time.

It’s lucky you took your time rubbing lube on your shaft and her hole. As time goes by, Nancy’s ass only grows tighter. It clings to you, afraid to let go. Her legs shake yet they’re strong enough to push and pull, receiving you into her backside.

The mattress starts to creak. Its old springs are resurrected and the first thing they do is make squeaking sounds. It’s drowned out by the sound of Somi touching herself. Her wet pussy is slick as her finger rubs firmly on her own clit and her mind runs with the idea of her being in Nancy’s place. Her toes are already curled tightly.

Nancy’s words don’t lose their eccentric tone even if she’s being plowed from behind. The broken mirror discarded to the corner reflects her expressions. One minute she’s smiling drunkenly, and the second minute her eyes are dazed, as if she were taken straight out of an 18+ anime magazine. The next minute she’s suddenly gasping for air. No, air isn’t what she needs. Everything that’s essential is hidden right inside your cock, and she’s going to get it.

“Need it, need it, need it.” 

She squeezes tighter, and you wince. It feels good. Too good, in fact, that you chase after the feeling with quick pumps. 

“H-hah, I know you want to do it,” she says, turning to you. She kisses you and smiles weakly. “So cum in me. Cum in my ass, I need it so fucking bad—”

She interrupts herself with a sharp draw of breath. Your fingers have entered her and are frantically moving, filling her over and over and jabbing at her walls. You take advantage of her sensitivity more than you should, and she loves it. 

Nancy cries out. She folds herself over the mattress more, muffling her face in its olden softness. She feels so full. With your cock stuffing her sweaty ass and your fingers wiggling around inside her, there’s only one path this is destined for. But she wants to make the journey last. She doesn’t want it to end too soon.

“P-please, I can’t take it,” she whines.  She muffles a scream. It doesn’t help; her next words are shouty. They don’t sound so intimidating when they come out pitchy and needy. “I’m going to cum all over you, for you, just please do the same. Please. Please, oh—”

Perhaps it’s your natural way of catering to whatever Nancy requires, which is to mean what you do everyday, but you end up exploding inside her. She moans happily, and you feel her drip a little as she comes to her climax as well. The little leak grows stronger as you firmly rub her clit. Your thighs soon suffer the damages of her flood.

Whimpering and overstimulated, Nancy’s screams almost make the windows shatter. Through all this, she pounds herself back into you, and you do the same. None of you want this to end.

Be that as it may, nothing lasts forever. It could be that it’s a gift, for when you pull out of your crush and spray the remaining shots of cum onto her beautiful back, you realize you’re stark exhausted.

-

“Cinnamon rolls, anybody?”

Here’s how it goes after that: the three of you showered and are ready to go rest. You couldn’t try for shower sex, not when all of you are spent. You’ve sprayed and fucked and came too many times to count that it’s for the common good that you take a break. 

Bruises litter your jaw but it’s alright. Nothing a little makeover can’t fix. Nancy still worriedly brushes it with a tender finger.

“I swear, Nancy,” you laugh, “I’m fine. You should be worried about yourself.”

Nancy nods obediently, but her eyes still linger on the purple spot.

“God, get a room,” says Somi with a groan, handing you your dessert. Is this her way of aftercare? “Oops, you already did. Silly me.”

You’re all wrapped in comfortable bathrobes. They’re the ones with the really silky fabric, the kind that feels like clouds dropped from heaven and onto you. They settle comfortably on your sore bodies. You go to the roof even with only those “clothes” on. Not one of you cares for decency; considering what you did earlier, it’d be hypocritical to try and salvage some self-respect.

Oh, who minds anyway? Not you three. All you want is some rest.

“Not funny,” Nancy says. She takes a careful bite of her roll, licking her lips with a glare.

“My bad. Should try again the next time we stop fucking.”

You stop chewing. “Wait… so you’re saying we’re doing that again?” you ask, suddenly flustered. 

You’re not complaining. It only took a few minutes for you to discover that sex with the duo is the perfect mix of soft and rough. Exactly your kind. Okay, so maybe the rough part outweighs the other, but you aren’t turning back. Your concern is your friendship—would you still see each other as reliable people, or would that be warped by lust?

You’re young. Nothing is permanent—that’s what you’re taught. What if that counts for the relationship you have, too?

“You don’t want to do it?” Somi asks in a voice so small you barely could make out the words.

“No, no, I do.” Scratch the back of your neck. How do you say this without sounding super attached? (You are.) “But… are we still friends? Are we still good with each other?”

Nancy gives you an amused look. “Why wouldn’t we be?” she inquires, genuinely curious.

“I—I thought—”

“Look, we all know what we feel.” Somi takes your hand and presses it to her thigh. Her face portrays a solemn yet caring look. It feels foreign seeing such a serious face on such a spunky girl. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends along the way. You’re still our Frankenstein. We made you.”

“Is the alcohol plus hot choco combo doing something to you or what? Frankenstein is the name of the crea—”

Somi groans and mashes you in the face with her cinnamon roll. “Get outta here with your nerd BS,” she says. She’s smiling, though. 

“Get out of here with your own dodo BS, bottle blonde.”

“Dodos are essential knowledge, not some facts about a stupid ass mon—”

“If you two don’t stop,” says Nancy, knowing when a playful fight starts and how to stop it before it does, “you’re both getting out.”

Are these the girls you fucked in that small loft just a few hours prior? They don’t ever change, do they? They might be hot as hell, but they’re still Jeon and McDonie, the girls you’re friends with. Your hearts remain in the places they were before.

But maybe deeper, delving into the core of your chests.

Somi directs her eyes up at the moon floating in the night sky and smiles. You’ve always loved it when she smiles, menacing as it could be sometimes. She looks like a giddy girl who was just taken to a candy store. There’s this pure, sweet grace to it that infectiously makes you grin, too.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” she says dreamily.

“It is,” Nancy agrees. She’s looking cute herself; her cheeks are stuffed with cinnamon rolls. 

You look up as well. They’re right. The moon does look prettier tonight. You’re no selenophile, but you swear the large spots of gray and black on its rounded curves make it look more serene. It feels like a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

“Well,” you say, smiling, “I can die happy.”

It was supposed to end like that. You all know what you meant. This was supposed to be a memory you’d keep stowed in the drawers of your minds to look fondly at later in life. But you just had to ruin the moment by suddenly sitting up straight and staring with wide eyes at your hands. What have you done? You can’t believe you could do such a thing.

“H-hey, Nancy…”

“What’s wrong?” Nancy asks.

“You know that quote you said earlier about first impressions?”

“Yeah?”

“And how I said Michael Jordan was smart for saying it?”

“What are you getting at here?”

“I remembered it wrong.” You gulp. “Michael Jackson said it, not Michael Jordan.”

“Are you in your right mind? How could you even think that?” asks Somi, cackling. She almost topples down the roof. “Like, seriously, oppa, are you okay? Are you okay? Are you okay, opp—”

“For fuck’s sake—”

#smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #female idol smut #idol smut #momoland smut #nancy mcdonie smut #nancy smut #momoland nancy smut #ioi smut #soloist smut #jeon somi smut #somi smut #ioi somi smut #male reader #x reader #reader insert #idol x reader #idol x male reader #pov smut #kofimission #commission

[adascore]

The Awarded Silence

pairings: alexia putellas x lyonnais!reader / lucy bronze x lyonnais!reader / mary earps x lyonnais!reader / sarina wiegman x lyonnais!reader + mapi and ingrid cameos!

warnings: very awkward. angst. swearing.

author's note: lucy meddling with her two captains... nothing good can come of that, can it? hope you all enjoy this third part! also I’m aware the gif is not the right award ceremony, but couldn’t find a better gif.

part 1 | part 2 | masterlist

•••••••

With the end of a season also came the prestigious award shows, something both Y/N and Alexia were all too familiar with. Although it was different this time around; it would be the first time they would actually go up against each other in the big categories.

It was clear to everyone who would be walking away with each one of them. Not only had Y/N walked away with both the European Championship and the Champions League title, she'd been named the MVP of both those tournaments. Some of the media were trying to hype it up as another competition between them, but even Alexia was aware she had no chance of walking away with anything as long as Y/N was nominated for it as well.

First one up had been the UEFA Women's Player of the Year, which Y/N had taken home, alongside Sarina who had won for Women's Coach of the Year.

That was followed up by the Ballon d'Or. It was a big deal as they were the clear frontrunners, and whoever won would become the first player to win the accolade for a second time. Again, Y/N made history and had accepted the gold award. Alexia hadn't gone to the ceremony, citing illness as the reason why.

The England captain had been upset by her absence, she hadn't seen nor spoken with Alexia in months and had hoped the ceremony in France would have been an opportunity to catch up. She'd smiled when the midfielder sent her a congratulatory message, along with a shout-out on her Instagram story- stating how she was deserving of the award.

It would take a few more months before they'd see each other, at ‘The Best FIFA Football Awards' in Paris. Along with being nominated for Best Women's Player, they would both be featured in the Women's World 11.

The first interaction came when they were hastily put next to each other as they received their trophies. As the cameras clicked, Y/N and Alexia exchanged smiles that masked the tension between them.

''I think it would be difficult for anyone to beat this team.'' Lucy grinned, speaking into the microphone that was attached to her cheek.

The women received another applause and made their way off the stage, handing over their trophies that would be handed back to them at the end of the ceremony.

A few winners later, Kylian took the stage to present ‘The Best FIFA Women's Player' award. They showed a pleasant montage of Alexia, Y/N and Alex- a compilation of their season's highlights.

Y/N felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. She knew the PSG player would call out her name, but you never knew if they wanted to stir up some controversy.

The England captain was sat on the first row, meanwhile some of her teammates and fellow female players were scattered in the other rows. Alex sat right behind her, while Alexia sat on the other side of the room with her Barcelona teammates.

The room hushed as Kylian unfolded the envelope. ''And the Best FIFA Women's Player is… Y/N Y/L.''

Applause erupted, and Y/N nervously got up from her seat. On the pitch, the striker was confident, but making speeches in front of a full room filled with people in power and fellow players, was not something she had gotten used to.

The Brit turned around and reached her hand out for Alex to take, a silent sign of respect for the season the American had had. She would have done the same if Alexia had been seated there, but walking to the other side of the room would have taken too much time.

Y/N carefully walked up the stairs, trying not to fall as she was wearing heels. Kylian noticed, and made his way over to offer his arm to her. She smiled, and accepted, holding onto the striker's arm.

He congratulated her, pressing three celebratory kisses on her cheek. ''Félicitations, Championne.'' (''Congratulations, Champion.'') Kylian said.

''Merci.'' (''Thank you.'') Y/N grinned, and she took her place at the microphone.

''Uh, thank you so much to all the people that voted. It's a big compliment to have your fellow players and coaches vote for you, so thank you so much.'' She started off, her voice a bit shaky as her eyes darted around the room.

''I, also, quickly want to acknowledge Alex and Alexia. It's an honour to be nominated alongside you, and I want to thank you for all the contributions you have made so far and for the great football we get to see from you. Thank you.'' Y/N glanced at both of them, giving them a nod as the crowd applauded them.

The camera panned to both women. The American striker mouthed a ''Thank you'' to the younger player, once teammates at Lyon. Alexia clapped, but maintained a composed facade.

She had also clapped when the Brit's name was announced, concealing any type of disappointment she felt. While she had anticipated the outcome, the sight of Y/N claiming the award instead of her was something hard to swallow- in the same way it had been hard to watch her rival lift the Champions League trophy the previous year.

Her applause was genuine, and deep inside she knew that Y/N deserved it more than her, but Alexia would never admit that out loud. As the striker continued her speech, the midfielder struggled with being happy for her colleague, while dealing with her own unspoken desire for recognition.

Lucy, seated beside Alexia, offered her a knowing smile. The Barcelona defender had seen it from close by, how everything was a competition for them. She'd noticed it at her new club, where the lost finals against Lyon served as reminders for the team to do better, and to not let that happen again. She'd noticed it in her England teammate, and how tense she had been before the friendly against Spain.

On the other side sat Mapi, concerned over how her friend was handling it. ''It's okay, Ale.'' She whispered in their native language.

''I know, it's just an award.'' Alexia replied, not taking her eyes off Y/N.

The Spanish defender dropped it, giving Ingrid a look before focusing on the winner as well.

''… cause I couldn't have done it without them. Uh, yeah, congratulations to all the other winners as well. Thank you.'' Y/N concluded.

The audience applauded one last time, and she got off the stage. She hid her face in embarrassment as Mary whistled loudly, feeling hot as her friend hyped her up.

After was seemed like forever, the ceremony was done.

Most attendees got up from their seats, but didn't leave the main hall as they walked over to catch up with people they knew or to get to know other people.

Y/N got up after about a minute, deciding to go talk to Christiane and Wendie, her Lyon teammates. However, the universe or someone called Lucy Bronze had better ideas.

''Hey, Captain.'' She heard the defender greeting her.

As the striker turned around, she was met with a surprise. There stood Lucy, accompanied by none other than Alexia Putellas. The Brit wore a smile, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

''Hi, Bronzey.'' Y/N responded, slightly caught off guard.

The English internationals shared a hug, Lucy whispering a congratulations in her ear. ''Thanks, you too.''

As the two parted, Y/N's eyes fell on an awkwardly standing Alexia.

''Y/N, meet Alexia. Alexia, this is Y/N.'' Lucy said, her eyes darting between the pair.

The two captains exchanged an uneasy glance. ''Uh, yeah, we know each other, Luce.'' The striker stated, feeling very uncomfortable with the situation.

Lucy chuckled, completely unfazed by the discomfort she had purposely created. ''Oh, I know. It's just that fans online were saying that they wanted me to have you guys become friends, so I'm just keeping my promise to them.''

Y/N and Alexia forcibly grinned at the admission, both aware of what people said about them on social media. The latter cleared her throat. ''Uh, congratulations again. You really deserve it.''

The Lyon player nodded, a somewhat more genuine smile appearing. ''Thanks, I appreciate. You as well, with the, uh, World 11.''

''Thank you.''

Another pause hung in the air, the atmosphere thick with awkwardness. It was as if their shared teammate had conspired to make this encounter as uncomfortable as possible.

''Oh, there's Sarina, excuse me, ladies.'' Lucy swiftly escaped, using their Dutch coach as part of her scheme.

That left the players facing each other. The tension was uncomfortable, and neither seemed eager to break the silence that had settled between them.

After a moment, Y/N was the first to give in. ''So, how is your knee doing?'' She asked, noticing the Spaniard was no longer holding onto her crutches.

Alexia's eyes briefly flickered towards Lucy, who was signing with her hands to keep going. ''Uh, good. Yeah, if everything goes to plan, I should be ready by the end of the season.'' She replied, a small smile present.

''So… World Cup ready then?''

The Catalan shifted on her feet at the mention of the tournament. ''That's delicate right now.''

''Oh, how, uh, is that situation going at the moment?'' Y/N had momentarily forgotten about the mutiny going on in the Spanish national team. She knew Alexia supported the girls that had made themselves unavailable, but they'd never had any conversations about it.

Alexia shrugged her shoulders. ''It's being worked on, it's… a lot.'' From the way she was speaking, her colleague could sense it wasn't a topic the midfielder wanted to happily chat about.

''I understand. I just want to say that a lot of people are behind you guys, and want to see change happen,'' Y/N softly spoke, ''me included.''

''Thank you.'' Alexia sounded genuinely grateful for her words.

Y/N has been a huge advocate for women's football ever since she became a professional player, so her acknowledging the Las 15's stance meant more to Alexia than she could express.

''Sorry, could I get a picture of you two?'' One of the official FIFA photographers interjected, pointing at the two of them.

The pair shared a look, seemingly asking without words if the other was okay with it. They nodded at each other, and hesitantly put their hands on one another's back, posing for the camera.

''Thank you.'' The man thanked them, walking over to another group of players.

''It was nice talking to you. I'm, uh, gonna see what my teammates are up to.'' Y/N politely excused herself. The conversation was turning out more bearable than how it started, but she still wanted nothing more than to leave.

''Same. Um, good luck with your matches, and maybe we see each other in the semifinals?'' Alexia hinted at a potential Champions League clash.

The Lyon striker chuckled. ''We'll see, Putellas. Have a nice night.''

As Y/N made her way to her teammates, Alexia watched her departure with mixed emotions. Yes, she was happy that they'd had a conversation. But, it was frustrating that there still seemed to be a wall between them, and a big one at that.

What was it that always held them back from truly opening up to one another?

''You know she's going to kill you once she's finished with that conversation, right?'' Mary said to her fellow Lioness, subtly taking a glimpse at Alexia and Y/N.

Lucy smirked, her eyes barely leaving her two captains. ''Who? Y/N or Alexia?'' She laughed.

''Both.'' Sarina and Mary chorused, laughing now as well.

''Nah, they'll have to work together for that. Never gonna happen.'' She continued joking.

The England coach shook her head. ''Why are you doing this again?''

''Because I wanna have fun, and although I am happy with my little trophy, this show is super boring. Just want to spice things up,'' Lucy explained, ''besides, fans will love it. The Queens of football talking together. La Reina and La Reine.''

Sarina and Mary exchanged skeptical glances, unsure of how either players would react. ''I'm not so sure Y/N will appreciate your idea of fun.'' Mary commented.

''Oh, what could go wrong?'' The defender genuinely did not see the problem. ''See, they're even taking a picture together.'' Lucy pointed out, seeing the pair in front of the photographer.

After the picture, Y/N gracefully excused herself and began walking towards where Lucy, Mary, and Sarina were standing. She joined the trio with a forced smile, attempting to suppress any visible signs of annoyance.

''Nice reunion there?'' Sarina tried to lighten her captain up, noticing her gloomy expression.

''We talked.'' She answered. It wasn't a proper response, more like a factual statement.

Y/N wasn't sparing Lucy a glance, the defender, however, remained unfazed. ''That's nice.''

''Congrats, by the way, darling. No one deserves this more than you.'' Mary tried to deflect, not a fan of the tension. Sarina smiled at the reminder of all the awards her team collected. ''Yeah, congratulations.''

''Thank you, you too, Mearps. You almost made me cry with your speech. Sarina, you didn't make me cry, but yours was really nice as well.'' She turned to her coach, managing to still make a teasing comment.

Sarina laughed. ''Well, thank you.''

''Uh, I'm gonna say hi to my, uh, other teammates.'' Y/N nodded her head towards where Wendie and Christiane were standing with some of the Lyon staff.

She then glanced at Lucy. ''Or you want to set that up for me as well?'' She sarcastically chuckled.

''Hey, come on. I thought you guys were friends now.'' Lucy said, a lame attempt at defending herself.

''Who said that?'' Y/N frowned.

''Jill.'' The defender retorted.

''What a source,'' the captain scoffed, ''we're not friends, and I don't need you to make us friends.''

''How bad was that conversation that you're this pissed at me?'' Lucy asked, not expecting her friend to be this irritated over her actions.

''Just don't do that ever again. It was fucking embarrassing.'' With that, she made her way over to her Lyon teammates.

Mary and Sarina slowly glanced back to Lucy, whose smirk had been practically smacked off of her face.''What could go wrong, aye, Bronzey?''

On the other side of the room, Alexia carefully walked over to Mapi and Ingrid after Y/N excused herself from the conversation.

''You look like you need alcohol.'' The Spanish defender noted, taking in her friend's expression.

Alexia sighed, smoothing her hair down. ''Neither of us enjoyed that.''

''Lucia really did you dirty there.'' Mapi responded, glancing to where her teammate was speaking with the England camp.

Ingrid offered a sympathetic smile. ''I think she had good intentions, she meant it well.'' She chimed in.

The Barcelona captain nodded. ''I know, but it was so awkward.'' Alexia grimaced, cringing at the reminder of how the two football stars had just uneasily stood in front of one another.

''You'll be fine,'' Mapi caressed her back, ''one day you'll be able to laugh about this, trust me.''

Alexia gave her an unimpressed look. ''I'd rather not.''

The defender glanced at her girlfriend. ''So oblivious.'' She whispered to Ingrid.

''What was that?''

''Nothing.''

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #alexia putellas fic #alexia putellas x reader #lucy bronze x reader

[cryptidghostgirl]

Humanity’s Most Favored Fantasy (Alastor x Reader)

Paring: Alastor x Reader

Description: It wasn't love. Alastor didn't feel love, not anymore. He'd lost that part of himself the day he died so it couldn't be love, could it?

Warnings: Look, I'm writing and it's not for a request. Angst. It's always angst. I just love Alastor's inhumanity, what can I say? This bitch is in denial. Also, bodies, blood, death, no gore but like, eh. Also Adam is in this one and he's his own warning. Loose Mistki quoting at one part. Also a loose Sappho quote “pale as grass” and self harm.

Word Count: 2,420

Master Lists:

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Hazbin Hotel Master List

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask.

A/N My classics major side came out a little bit in this one lol. Also I have a big classics major side fic in the wings so if you guys like this, just wait. Also Sir Pentious is from the 1800s so he for sure had a classical education. Also the title came from an article I was reading about the history of witchcraft for one of my classes.

The most complex and yet the most simple of the human emotions. Feared by some, wielded by others, out of reach for many, perennial for more still, and taken as easily as a breath of air by a solemn few. What a strange thing, love.

It was this last category that bewitched Alastor. Even when he had been alive, he had never understood the people like that, the ones who took heartbreak in stride, the ones who shared any love they had the minute they felt it with everyone and everything. The ones who weren't paralyzed by potential loss or violent embarrassment.

The people who feared love made sense. It had a vast capacity for harm, it was able to destroy without a second thought. Even when it was good, love could be devastating. Those who wielded it as their weapon of choice nearly fell into a subcategory of this group. They used other people's fear of the matter against them or they lured people in to get what they wanted and threw them to the curb without a second glance.

Everyone on earth, living or dead, had felt at least once that love was out of their reach, Alastor reasoned. Hopelessness is one of the most vital parts of the human condition, after all.

Perennial was the category in which most people fell. Love came and went. It lived and died, but always returned like the plants he had named this grouping for.

Then there were people like Y/n. Not a day went by where she wasn't explaining how much she adored something random or telling people she loved them, throwing the word around as if it had no weight, as if it was the easiest thing in the world to love, to share love. When Angel had made some snide remark about everything being her alleged 'favorite thing,' Y/n had quickly replied, saying:

"Aren't I lucky for that? Isn't that just wonderful?"

Alastor couldn't tell in which category he fell or what his opinion was about that answer of hers. One thing he did know was that Y/n was to be avoided at all costs.

She was the typical sinner. Never too bad of a person when alive, but never too good either. She wore her hedonism like a badge of honor, living her afterlife in much the same way Alastor assumed she had lived her living life: in a constant state of indulgence.

It wasn't the typical form of being that takes a person's mind when they think of the word. No, Y/n didn't indulge in a reckless, Dionysian way. Instead, she devoured everything. Books, good food, music, friends, you name it. Y/n had a million stories about each and a million examples of the best they all had to offer on hand. She relished in all that every word had to offer.

Alastor had overheard her talking to Charlie one night about that. He hadn't meant to, he had just been wandering the hotel, unable to sleep and in need of some air, when he'd heard a slight commotion in the lobby. Hidden by his shadows, he had entered the familiar space to find an exhausted Charlie standing tensely before a bulletin board.

"God is in the details." Y/n was saying as she adjusted the plans pinned on the structure so they were easier to read, more cohesive, "Anything can be a work of art, don't forget that. It's what makes everything so undeniably worth it."

She was so utterly out of his reach. Not that Alastor wanted Y/n in his reach, no. How ridiculous would that be: the Radio Demon, the most feared overlord in all of Hell, getting butterflies because he heard a girl tell someone else she loved them and imagined it was him. No, that would be utterly foolish which was why it wasn't the case, couldn't be the case. He must be getting sick, that was why his stomach had felt weird.

"What are you reading?" he heard Sir Pentious ask as the snake demon took a seat on the couch beside Y/n.

Alastor was at the bar, sharing a drink with Husk. His ear twitched in their direction.

"It's a book discussing the changes in interpretations of Sappho's poetry over time." Y/n replied, her tone soft and even.

It felt like a salve against Alastor's ears. Husk raised an eyebrow towards his master but made no remark.

"Really? I didn't know you were interested in that sort of thing."

"I was actually a professor in the human world... living world? Whatever. I didn't work on Sappho, I worked on ancient medicine, but I always found her intriguing and lovely. I mean, phainetai moi is creating a diagnosed love, using all the language of medicine. How could it not capture my attention?"

"You know, if you look at Homer, the same language Sappho uses is also used to describe love. She is actually working off a preexisting cannon of love as something painful and destroying."

"Really?"

"Yes, and curse tablets tend to draw off medical writings quite a bit as well, especially those involved in love magic."

"Huh, that’s a neat little intersection I have yet to explore: medicine, magic, and love. I never knew you knew so much about this. You died in the 1890s, right?"

"Sometime around then."

"I should have guessed then, my mistake. Tell me, what was it like growing up with all this wonder at your finger tips? It was hard for me to even find a university with a classics department, let alone a good one. You’re lucky to have had it all right there."

Now that was an interesting idea to Alastor. A diagnosable love, a painful and deadly thing. Love as a curse, love as being shot through by an enemy spear, love as a god. It made more sense to him than anything else about the matter had. Unavoidable, not something self imposed. A cursed love, a medical love, something that controlled a person rather than vice versa.

He lay awake at night, unable to speak, pale as grass, thinking unwillingly of the way her lips curved to form words, of the way one could see the gears of her mind turning behind her eyes. He lay awake, unable to do anything else. He stared at the ceiling.

"Ah! Angel! Thank you!" Y/n exclaimed as he handed her the sweater he'd spotted her eyeing a few days before when they'd been for a walk around town, "This was so kind of you!"

Alastor watched as Y/n pulled the lanky demon into a hug which he reluctantly returned, looking down at her with a platonic version of the sort of fondness that was so forbidden to him.

"Great work Angel!" Charlie clapped excitedly, "That's a step in the right direction."

No, it wasn't love. Alastor Hartifelt didn't love, he had lost that ability the day he had died and he'd barely had it before that. It didn't matter that his heart skipped a beat, there was no truth to his upset stomach when he had to speak to her except something bad he must have eaten. The sleeplessness wasn't new, sleep had never been his friend so to speak, the two had never really gotten along. The reason it got so stuck in his head, the way she threw her affection around, was the carelessness of it all, the foolishness. Only, what he had overheard her saying to Charlie that night, that anything can be a work of art, were the words of someone who acted purely on intention, who did nothing without considered thought.

Y/n couldn't be a wielder of love. Alastor never once saw her manipulate someone or even really ask anyone for anything at all. There was no way she was scared and the way she freely gave took her out of the other two categories as well. It didn't make sense. The intention, the earnestness, the true meaning behind her actions and words that always seemed to shine through no matter what she did, was what had him stuck. She barley even fit into her own category because of it. Most people that threw love around the way she did had the words and actions lose their meaning over time but, somehow, that seemed never to be the case for her.

He pictured a life on earth. He pictured walking with her beneath the stars, the way the light of the moon would play gently across her skin. He pictured her in the recording studio, the one he'd worked at while alive, waiting by the door for him to finish his work and taking him by the hand, dragging him off into the unknown. He pictured waking up beside her in the morning, all messy hair and smiles. He pictured, he dreamed, he dissolved. The doctors diagnosed him and he went to see other people because he didn't like the answer they gave him.

Y/n pulled Vaggie from her seat at the bar, spinning the demon into an ungraceful waltz to the music Alastor was playing on the piano for the group. He nearly fumbled, nearly missed a note. She missed so many steps and it didn't matter because she was laughing, and so was Vaggie. She didn't have to be perfect, but he did.

They each smiled ear to ear while Charlie clapped along to the beat. He imagined himself in Vaggie's place, he could practically feel his hands on the gentle curve of her hips. The world was half real.

It wasn't love because he didn't know her, he never spoke to her. It wasn't love because that was impossible, he couldn't love. It wasn't love because that was an ability he'd left in the world of the living. It wasn't love because she was too kind, too good, and he was nothing if not brutal and bloodstained to his core. It wasn't love because it couldn't be. It wasn't love because if it was...

It's not love. It's not love. It's not love.

He repeated the mantra to himself. Alone walking the halls, in meetings with the other overlords, making tea in the kitchen. He whispered the words to himself like a prayer.

It's not love. It's not love. It's not love.

Y/n was out of reach, untouchable, destined to join the ranks of Heaven while he remained rotting in Hell. It couldn't be anything else, no other future was possible which was why it wasn't love. She was made of all the things a human is and he was made of those a monster is. She was bright, she shined, and Alastor fed off the light of others, burning it out into darkness. He refused to do such a thing to her, he couldn't. Not when she was practically the sun. Not when he wasn't even a star but the black hole of the earth revolving around her.

He saw her holding Husk's hands over the bar top as he told her something, a look of deep concern etched into her features. He watched her pick Nifty up by the waist so the little demon could dust the tops of the bookshelves. He watched her, he waited, he would always be waiting because nothing could ever happen. Nothing would ever happen, he wouldn't allow it and goddamnit it wasn’t love.

It was also impossible, Alastor reminded himself. He had left that part of himself when he had died, it hadn't made the journey with him. The most favored fantasy of his own humanity, or what was left of it. The little spark of the person he had been that glowed softly from the center of his chest. Alastor had tried to douse it, tried to kill it, tried to rip it from himself but all he'd ever ended up with was bloody hands and torn flesh and the light pulsed on in its eternal hunger, its eternal hope, its eternal harm.

And then it was too late. Then, she really was gone, double dead or however anyone wanted to call it. Adam dropped her lifeless corpse to the ground and Alastor's world crashed in around him because no matter how many times he had said it wasn't, no matter how he had avoided her, no matter what he had done it had been love, or the beginnings of it at least. The closest thing to it he'd ever really felt. His hand tightened around the staff of his microphone. Alastor bared his teeth, he saw red.

"What have you done?"

Adam turned to him, grinning. Y/n deserved a viking funeral, to be surrounded by flowers and sent off in a burning boat. She deserved a Greek burial, reduced to ashes and buried with all the proper rites that made sure she would make it to the afterlife. She deserved, she was owed, he was angry.

"What." Adam laughed, "Was she your little bitch?"

Alastor didn't think he had any room left inside him for the fury, but found his rage redoubled at Adam's words.

"What did you just call her?"

"Your little bitch." Adam smirked, "She was a cute one, shame you all are gonna have to burn. Woulda kept her for myself."

Adam looked down, nudging Y/n's lifeless corpse with the toe of his shoe. Alastor attacked. There was no thought, no order, no grace, there was only the anger. Only now that it was too late, was he at last able to let loose, be less than perfect, exist in an unintentional manner. Or was it that this was the true meaning of intention -- reckless abandon? Y/n probably would have thought that. It didn't matter. It didn't matter what she would have thought, what any of them did think. It was too late. There was no more time and Alastor had come to terms with his own frailty a second past the buzzer. He would never forgive himself.

"You will pay for what you have done. You will die for what you have done."

Because it had been love, all along and Alastor, who had thought himself above it all, had been in that first group. He had been scared, not of what love could do but of what Y/n would, of what she had already done to him. Now it was too late and he would never get another chance.

"You will fucking die!"

----

Part Two --> → Humanity's Most Favored Fantasy pt. 2

#x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #x reader fics #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #radio demon x reader #the radio demon x reader #the radio demon #radio demon #hazbin #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #x reader fanfic #angst

[what-if-nct]

NCT eating out skills.

*I apologize in advance*

Taeil: Knows exactly what to do. Gets down to business. Will leave you more than satisfied.

Johnny: Pulls the most toe curling tongue tricks. And you can feel him smile against you every time he makes you whimper and whine.

Taeyong: Loves doing it but gets overly excited and needs a bit of direction cause he gives unnecessary attention to the lips.

Yuta: I'm not saying pussy eating champion, but he has his medals and trophies. That is his title. He is undefeated and will tongue fuck you while his fingers attend to other business.

Kun: He does exactly what needs to be done and does it well, but is a master with his fingers cause he wants to always look at you.

Doyoung: He's very unsure about his skills and technique but he shouldn't be. His technique alone is fireworks, shooting stars worthy

Ten: Not the best but not the worst, gets the job done.

Jaehyun: He licks too hard in the wrong area, needs guidance. Can be staring at it and still doesn't know where the clit is. His fingers might be the best bet.

Winwin: Will have your eyes fluttering and you'll forget your name, starts with kissing it but his tongue and fingers start working double time and will suck your clit and your fingers will lock into his hair. If Yuta has Gold in this category. Winwin easily has silver.

Jungwoo: Loves doing it so much, gets so happy but is really just licking the outer lips, his tongue might slip in but not on purpose but when he finds out he can he really goes in for it. Still overtly enthusiastic though.

Mark: He tried, he just tries his best he'll get there one day. He can find the clit but bless his heart he doesn't really know what to do.

Xiaojun: Mainly uses his fingers, will give a few licks here and there because he feels called to but he's not confident in his skills but his fingers are gold.

Hendery: Honestly he gets a little wild in there and ends up biting something it could feel good or not depending on what he's doing.

Renjun: A lot of kissing, he's very gentle and takes notes on what you seem to enjoy. Takes his time and does his best to please you.

Jeno: Gonna be honest a couple of hard licks and he says "my turn" and pulls his pants off.

Haechan: Kinda rough but in a good way, talks really dirty against it but it's muffled. Also might bite but in a good way. Will spank it if you pulled his hair when he told you to be good.

Jaemin: Also gives so many kisses down there, speaks softly, tells you how good you taste, loves trying out new things, gentle, teasing, it's an experience and a dream.

Yangyang: He doesn't know what the hell he's doing, you feel nothing and everything all at once. He enjoys doing it, maybe a little too much but Guidance isn't enough, send him to a class taught by Yuta and Jaemin.

Chenle: He doesn't have any kind of sex.

Jisung: Bless his heart he's trying his best, just guide and reassure him he's doing his best and he'll get there. But he's still better than Yangyang and Jaehyun.

#nct #nct incorrect quotes #nct incorrect texts #nct 127 #johnny suh #nct dream #taeyong #yuta #Taeil #kun #doyoung #ten lee #Jaehyun #Winwin #mark lee #Xiaojun #Jungwoo #Hendery #renjun #jeno #Haechan #jaemin #Yangyang #Chenle #Jisung #nct scenarios #nct scenario #nct smut #smut

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Bit Slow Round These Parts

Organized, in each category, by ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Dec 2023 Wk 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

Last Twilight (Fri YT) ep 8 of 12 - Mhok is about the most indulgent boyfriend on the planet. Why they dressed as 1930s gangsters for the wedding? I have no idea idea, but it’s adorable. IFYLITA mark 2? And they’re even dancing together using bits of the same steps that were used that show too. Cute nod.

The Sign (Sat YT) ep 6 of 10 - Everything but the kitchen sink includes lesbians apparently. Excellent. Carry on. Also a lot of filler about the sides. (Boring, stop that.) I wish the doctor were a little bit more of a multifaceted character (and less evil snakey), and that we had some of his backstory + Tharn. If we saw them as kids, having a longer true friendship, it would make Tharn’s attitude a little bit more sympathetic and forgiving.

For Him (Thurs iQIYI) ep 5 of 10 - I like this show, but it’s awfully one-sided in the romance arena. I mean shouldn’t they be trying to support and make each other happy? Why does it always have to come from Him? Also, I’m constantly worried about the fact that Nail doesn’t eat any vegetables. His digestive track must be in serious distress. And if the boy is a bottom?! Look I have concerns is all I'm saying, I hope he's getting his fiber along with the dk. Meanwhile... Mom confrontation! Always fun.  

Twins the series (Fri GaGa) ep 9 of 10 - Now I’m having a hard time keeping the twins straight. Who’s getting beat up for whom, what’s going on? No matter who, First caught himself a live one. I like those bits.

Pit Babe (Fri iQIYI) ep 7 of 14 - I got little crumbs of my sides but not enough, and then they dropped the mpreg bomb. Kinda like blowing the BL diaper. Trash watch happening here.

Cooking Crush (Sun YT) ep 5 of 12 - They are so cute. And mostly such good communicators. Except evil dad is evil! I didn’t have OffGun tango on my bingo card, but I'm happy to check it off. After making everyone sing, GMMTV is now making everyone dance. I much prefer it. Kiss came a bit out of nowhere. But it was sweet. 

A few minutes later...

Bake Me Please (Mon Gaga) ep 6fin - I don’t know, I feel like this just wasn’t good enough for the class of talent involved. Which means it’s mostly the story and script's fault. In the end I kinda just wanted Guy to get the guy.

In cluclusion:

A lack-luster story about a group of bakers coping with (mostly) a shoddy script that could not be saved by either the beauty nor the talent of the actors involved. It suffered for lack of narrative backbone and so did I. 6/10

Middleman’s Love (Fri YT & iQIYI ep 8fin - Mai is an adorable clingy boyfriend, and that bit was kind of cute.

Summation:

Office clown, Jade, a manic pixie dream dork, is courted by the new intern, Mai. This show is right in my wheelhouse but it fell flat for me. I wish it had lived up to the concept behind the title (if nothing else). If we had done more of Jade‘s family and the reasons behind his self-worth struggles and self-acceptance issues, they might have been easier to bare. Without backstory, the show had no through line. In the end, Jade was a largely intolerable character, and Mai felt flat and lacking in personality. I was disappointed with this show, and I hope they don't blame the pair for the poor ratings. 6/10

My Universe (Sun iQIYI) 1626 ep 19 of 24 - Meh. So dull. 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

VIP Only (Taiwan Fri Gaga) ep 7 of 10 - I’m not really interested in the late addition love triangle concept.

Sahara-sensei to Toki-kun (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 4 of 8 - a bit too frenetic and manic for me, this one. Glasses boy is best boy. But I’m kind of confused as to was actually going on with this show. Including whether I like it or not.

I Became the Main Role of a BL (Japan Sun Gaga) ep 1-3 - AKA BL Drama no Shuen ni Narimashita: Crank Up Hen - it should finish airing at the very beginning of the year, so I decided to wait and watch all 3 back-to-back. 

It's Airing But...

Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 14 eps - Dear Playboyy, it's not you, it’s me… I hate you. You’re about as deep (and as palatable) as a shot glass of cum. While I'm sure you’re someone’s kink, you're my weakest link. Goodbye. I DNFed this at ep 5. Frankly I'm impressed with myself for getting that far.

Night Dream (Sat YT) 6 eps - It’s a pain to track down and I really didn’t like the first episode so… DNF  

The Whisperer (Sun ????) 10 eps - Thai horror BL that ALSO involves cheating (what joy is mine). I don't think even the perfect single dimple can motivate me to watch. Word is... it's terrible.

7 Days Before Valentine (Weds WeTV) 10 eps - Giving me Luminous Solution vibes. I'm waiting to binge if safe.

Dead Friend Forever (Thai Sat iQIYI) - horror, meh, tell me if it's worth my time?

It's done and I didn't, or we can't

Beyond The Star (Weds iQIYI) 8 eps - House of Stars meets Boyband. I was NOT impressed with ep 1. Been told I shouldn't bother. So I won't.

Behind the Shadows (Korea movie) - This is a historical I was interested in, but I've been told they kill the gay so I'm OUT.

[INTERNATIONAL] Cherry Magic (Sat YouTube) ep 3 of 12 - yeah Japan put the smack down on our boys. Sadness. You can use a VPN if you like. Read all about it here.

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - will binge when I have a spare day.

Crazy work load right now so no idea when that will be. (End of year is a bear for me.)

Honestly I'm gonna have an epic number of dnf's this year for me.

Next Week Looks Like This

Original 2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED). With the end of the year upon us I'll do an "announced for 2023 but never happened list" soon.

Also my best ofs are coming.

Don't think I'll do a stats round up this year, everything progressing as before.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

(Last week) - sorry, forgot to link it.

It's 2024 people! Round ups are coming!!!! Leave a comment or an ask, if you have something specific you want addressed.

#Last Twilight #this week in bl #bl updates #the sign the series #Thai BL #for him the series #cooking crush the series #twins the series #Bake me please review #BL series review #Middleman's Love review #taiwanese bl #japanese bl #vietnamese bl #cooking crush #PitBabe

[mageknight14]

Sometimes I often think about Nagi Usui and how she’s one of the best characters to have come out in the past few years.

-One of her main motivations to get back into the real world is so she can play more of her mobile gacha game.

-She gains an instant crush on someone just because he resembles one of the main characters from said mobile gacha game.

-She’s the only one of her team to actually like the Grilled Alligator meal from SBY BBQ.

-The kanji on her shirt changes for every situation she finds herself in whether it’s for fights or eating.

-Some of her other kanji shirts reference The Art of War, kendo, Buddhist proverbs, JRPG terminology, and chuuni terms, among other things.

-One of sayings on her shirt translates to "Now I'm motivated" when in battle which means that yes, Nagi is a DMC Vergil fan.

-In the Field Walk RPG, Rindo wonders about how the letters of her shirt keep changing and Nagi tells him that she changes her shirts in between fights and food. He then wonders about how he never notices and Nagi tells him that she’s mastered the art of changing them in a millisecond before saying that she’s just joking.

-Is the only one out of the team with a dedicated maid outfit.

-Brags about being a one time Quiz Academy Queen Quizster after going head-to-head with a DRS member over the title and winning over him in the manga category.

-Accidentally intimidates other EleStra fans from approaching her through sheer aura.

-Her English VA based her performance off of Peridot from Steven Universe and Entrapta from She-Ra.

-Said VA also confirmed that Nagi would most definitely be a Sonic fan, with her being a fan of Shadow the Hedgehog in particular.

-Surprisingly, she has the most connections on the Social Network outside of Rindo due to her natural ability to understand people

-Gets into a pissing contest in Another Day with a ojou-sama, metalhead fan over who’s the bigger Takeharu Ishimoto fan

-Owns and is raising at least 10 snakes in Another Day

-Only knows how to cook sunny-side up fried eggs from the box, with the yolks described as 'frozen' and the eggs described as unpleasantly chewy.

-Is insanely competitive at fighting games

-She considers video game arcades to be the perfect date location.

-All of her "gurgly sounds" combined make for more than two minutes straight of audio.

-In Japanese, her personal pronoun is a neetspeak version of a pronoun usually used by sagely old male characters.

-In general, she uses a lot of netslang, including the Japanese equivalent of "kek" basically.

-She's too anxious to use a phone and to work a job that requires her to interact with people regularly such as retail.

-She’s the most bloodthirsty of the Wicked Twisters when it comes to fighting Noise and even lets out an evil laugh when unleashing a Grenade Launcher pin

-She really likes jigsaw puzzles and finds them calming; more specifically, the "1000-piece" type of jigsaw puzzles.

-Even with her eccentricities, she’s one of the most emotionally intelligent and empathetic characters in the series, and is never once treated as off-putting for her interests and actually uses the life lessons she took from EleStra to help out others in need.

-Is more than capable of killing a man with her psychic mind powers.

#twewy #the world ends with you #ntwewy #neo the world ends with you #NEO TWEWY #nagi usui

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Chain Reaction

Jake Lockley x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 21: Piercings

Summary: Jake has a surprise for you.

A/N: Don't look at me. (The title amused me, I'm so sorry.) Huge thank you to @lonelyisamyw-0love for listening to my crazed panic and being so reassuring! 💚 Also I have written this is such a mess, and I'm sure there are more typos than normal.

Warnings: TITS. nipple piercings, nipple sucking, oral (both m & f) p in v sex, cream pie, one of those chain things that connect the nipple piercings, typos, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 2524

You stared at Jake’s chest. Even if you couldn’t already tell Marc, Steven and Jake apart from the way they held their body and face, you’d be able to tell it was Jake by the choice of clothing. He was wearing a far too tight t-shirt, with a faded picture of a cartoon frog. 

The animal was comically stretched across his pecks, but that wasn’t the reason why you were staring. 

“You okay there?” He asked, after giving you a minute to get a good eyeful. 

“I… erm…”

He smiled wolfishly as he held the front door open for you. “You gonna come in?” 

You walked inside on autopilot, still staring at his chest.

“My eyes are up here you know, sweetheart.” 

You snap your gaze up to his face, but can’t help yourself and after a couple of seconds your line of sight begins to drift downwards again.

You swallow, your mouth dry. “Since when do you…?”

He crosses his arms over his chest, just below his tits to obviously highlight them. “Since when do I what?” He grins, very much enjoying your attention. 

You haven’t known Jake quite as long as Steven or Marc, and while he was very upfront and open about some things he was surprisingly secretive about others. (Usually what information fell into which category seemed completely random.) 

“Have piercings there?” You gestured vaguely. 

Jake smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Where?” 

“On your tits.” 

Jake burst out laughing, the sound alone enough to brighten your mood to the highest altitudes. 

“I was not expecting you to say that.” He grinned and composed himself. This time with his hands on his hip, his chest puffed out and jutted towards you oh so unsubtly. “Since this morning.” 

“Since this morning?” 

“Right, so,” he took on a mock-serious expression, “there’s this thing called ‘time’, you see, many years ago humans thought it would be best if we kept track of it-”

You waved a hand at his face and he laughed. “You know what I mean.” You said exasperatedly, but still enjoying his gentle teasing. 

“Since this morning.” He repeated.

“Do Marc and Steven know?”

“No.”

“No?” 

He looked around like he was searching for something. “Is there an echo in here or?” 

“Jake.” 

He grinned. “They never know.”

“Don’t make me repeat that too. Just…” you gestured with your hands, “explain? Please?” 

He smirked for a moment and then beamed, “Oh, all right, just because it’s you, and you asked nicely. But you owe me a favour.” 

“Jake-”

He danced a little closer to you. “A good favour, I promise.” 

“Hmm.” Bartering favours with Jake was never a good idea.

“Is that a yes?” He grinned in a sing-song voice. 

“A maybe.” 

“Aww,” he gave you a mock look of hurt. “Not good enough.” He took a step closer to you, putting his hands gently on your waist and giving you a few seconds to move out of his grasp or tell him to stop before he pressed his body up against yours. 

You watched him carefully, trying to judge his next move. 

“You like them don’t you?” He whispered in your ear, slowly taking your hand in his and pressing your fingers against his chest. 

You swallow. The action makes a painfully loud gulp and you glare fruitlessly at Jake as an even bigger grin breaks out on his face. 

"Ohhh, you do." He teased. 

You gave him a light shove, not enough to make him move. "Jake-"

"Admit you like them and I'll tell you."

You sighed and in your best deadpan voice said, "I like them."

Jake pouted playfully. "Aw, come on," he leaned close to you again, just ghosting his lips over your neck. "You can do better than that."

"Jake." You growled, just managing to suppress the shiver that threatened to undermine you. 

He chuckled at your expression, "all right, all right, so the others don't know because I pierce them-"

"You pierce them yourself?"

He gave you a look. "Do you want me to tell you, or do you want to keep interrupting?" 

You made a show of closing your mouth and inclined your head in apology. 

He smiled and nodded. "Thank you. Anyway, yes, I pierce them. Had them done professionally a few times and then I thought, fuck it I'll just do it myself and bought a piercing kit."

Other questions bubble up in your mind but you fight the urge to interrupt and stay quiet. 

"So, I pierce them, put on the suit. Healing powers." he gestures to his chest, "As long as I've got the piercings in," he lightly touches the metal on his right nipple, "then wham, bam, thank you god of the moon, it all heals up as if I've had them pierced for years. Then I go about my 'day'," every so often Jake would have a planned 'day' where he asked if he could front solo, a 'Jake Care Day' as he called it. "Before bed, take the piercings out, suit, thank you god of the moon, it’s the only thing you’re good for.” 

You giggle at the little Khonshu dig.

“And," he gestured to his chest dramatically, "it's like none of it ever happened."

You stared at him for a moment. "That's very clever."

Jake grinned at your praise, puffing his chest out once more.

"I have two questions."

"Of course."

"Why don't you tell Marc and Steven?"

Jake shrugged, "It's my thing… I don't have to tell them everything." 

You nod.

"Second question?"

"It's not a Jake Care Day today."

His grin widened, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "No, it's not."

"And you knew I was coming over today."

"Yes," he presses his lips against yours. "I did." 

You chuckle as he kisses you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pressing your body close to his. You purposefully make sure that the piercing presses against your chest. “So,” you say between slow kisses, “you wanted me to see them.” 

He hums a conformation into your mouth. “Thought you’d like them.” 

“And what gave you that impression?” You try to put a level of indignation into your tone to tease but fail spectacularly. 

Jake chuckles and nips at your lip. “You’re kinky like that.” 

It’s your turn to laugh. “I’m kinky?” 

He hums again, licking into your mouth and starts to walk you back across the flat and towards the bed. “You are.” 

You sink your fingers into his hair, pulling lightly at his soft curls. “You’re the one with the piercings in the first place.”

“I never said I wasn’t kinky.”

“Oh,” you pause for a second and smile. “Alright then.” 

He stops just as the back of your legs hit the side of the bed. “I do have something else… that goes with them.” He raises his eyebrows a little at the end. 

You pause, trying to fight the excitement that grows in your belly. “Do you?” 

“Hmm.” He nods, “I can show you if you’d like?” 

“Go on.” You say as calmly as you can manage and sit down on the edge of the bed. 

He grins and gives you a quick kiss before practically bouncing towards the bathroom. 

You chuckle to yourself at how absolutely apparent it is that Jake had thought about and planned the whole thing. It makes a little twist of warmth grow in your chest. 

However when he comes out, leaning against the door frame for you to get a proper look, your breathing stills. And, for a moment, you forget that your lungs need air. 

He had taken off his frog t-shirt and was now wearing a silver metal chain connecting the two piercings. 

Your mouth went dry.

He raised his shoulders ever so slightly. “You like?” 

You nodded your head rapidly, “You better come over here or I’m going to fuck you on the floor.” 

Jake laughed. “Promises, promises.” But he made a show of coming towards you when you motioned to stand. 

He kissed your lips then your cheek, nuzzling against your jaw and neck. “Do you really like it?” He whispered, the smallest hint of self-consciousness in his voice. Something you hadn’t heard from Jake before. 

“I love it.” Lightly, you ran the tips of your fingers over his left nipple, the metal was warm. Unsurprising considering it was right up against Jake’s skin, but it still amused you. 

Jake shivered under your touch. 

“Are they sensitive?” You asked. 

“Hmm,” he nodded, leaning closer to you and slowly pushing you back onto the bed. “Yeah, in a good way.” 

You flicked the metal and he gasped, biting his lip a little as he wriggled between your heads and ground his growing erection against your core. 

The look on his face made heat pool in your stomach. You pinched around his nipples more firmly this time, and when he closed his eyes and let out a soft moan you dipped down just a little and flicked your tongue over his left piercing. 

“Oh shit.” He groaned low in his throat, bucking instinctively up into your clothed heat. 

You smiled widely and did it again, swirling your tongue around the tip before sucking his nipple and piercing between your lips.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh god, yes!” He pressed closer to your warm, wet mouth, bucking unthinkingly as he grinds his cock against your clit. 

You let go with a pop and his whines of protest are quickly silenced as you flip him over onto his back and straddle his thighs. 

His skin is lightly flushed, a red mark quickly forming where you had sucked. 

You quickly shimmer down between his legs and pull off his trousers and underwear as Jake watches you with adoring eyes. 

He squirms a little under your touch as you lightly trace the large vein on the underside of his cock, slipping down to massage his heavy balls. The muscles in his thighs jumping under your attention. 

You waste little time and quickly take him into your mouth, moaning as the salty precum hits your tongue. 

Jake arches his back, crying out a string of expletives as you bob up and down and fisting the bed covers as he tries to keep himself together. 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck,” he groans loudly, thrusting shallowly up into your mouth, “please, yeah, like that,” his eyes are screwed shut, his eyebrows pinched together as he moans. 

You sink lower, sucking hard and revelling in the sharp cry that escapes Jake’s lungs.

He bucks up twice before his hands are on your jaw, firmly pulling you off him. You don’t get a chance to question him, as he leans up and covers your mouth with kisses and pulls at your clothes. 

He moves away just long enough to get your top over your head. “Sit on my face.” He demands, his lips swollen and pink. 

When you nod he eagerly rids you of the rest of your clothing and helps to manoeuvre your thighs to either side of his face. You wiggle a little as you get comfortable, facing towards his legs.

Jake guides you down with his strong hands on your hips, leaning up eagerly to swipe his tongue through your soaking folds and groaning happily. 

You sigh, closing your eyes for a second as he slips deliciously inside. Then, a small thought comes into your mind and you lean a little forward. Carefully you take hold of the chain connecting his piercings, Jake doesn’t notice at first, too preoccupied with the taste of you to care about anything else. 

That is, until you give the chain a gentle tug and he moans loudly into your aching pussy, his dick twitching desperately against his stomach. 

“Ugh,” he pulls his mouth away just far enough to get his words out clearly but snakes his hand around so that he can circle your clit softly. “Do that again.” 

You don't need to be told twice. 

This time you tug harder, but make sure that the force isn’t too much to cause any actual damage. He whines against your cunt, thrusting his tongue in deep and sending the reverberations of the sound across your pussy. 

Pleasure sparks up your spine and you grind down onto him in earnest, your own cries getting louder as he devours you like a man starved. 

You keep pulling at the chain, jerking it like the reins of a horse at gallop. 

His hips buck up, his dick desperately searching for something to help to relieve the mind-numbing ache in his stomach. 

You have just enough coherent thoughts to reach down with your free hand and caress the tip, smearing his precum down his shaft before you start to pump him. 

Jake moans loudly, losing himself in the sensation for a moment before pulling his mouth away. “Baby, wait, if you keep doing that I’m gonna cum. Let me fuck you please.”

You let go of him and the chain, the soft desperate whine in his voice sending a sharp thrill through you. 

He quickly moves and pulls you into his lap. You don’t need any further instruction and take hold of his throbbing cock in your hand and slowly begin to sink down. 

He swears, burying his face into your neck and huffing his hot breath over your skin as he moans. “Fuck yessss.” 

He wants to sob at the relief of finally being in you, finally being surrounded by your tight, wet heat. 

You barely give him a second to adjust as he bottoms out before you're moving again, grinding up and down on his thick cock as he hits so deeply at that perfect spot inside. With one hand on his shoulder and the other lightly pulling at the chain you begin to pick up speed, your own orgasm growing and growing in your belly. 

“Fuck, baby, yes, you love it, don’t you? Love pulling on my chain, gonna-fuck, gonna pull me around like I’m your little slut aren’t you? Gonna cum on my cock and-shit!” He groaned deeply as you whined and clenched around him. “Gonna make me cum,” he sobbed. 

“Yeah?” You managed to say through your lust-hazed brain. 

He nodded desperately. 

“What if I don’t let you?” 

“No.” He sobbed, looking up at you desperately. “Please, please- fuck, been thinking about it all day, please!”

You moaned and kissed him hard, your hips starting to get sloppy and lose their rhythm as you neared your peak. 

Jake bucked up against you, grabbing hold of your waist and guiding you so that you could chase your orgasm. 

You bit your lip hard as it neared, digging your hands into his shoulders, “cum in me Jake, please.” You moaned just as your orgasm crested.

“Fuck!” He hissed, thrusting wildly as you gave the chain a sharp pull, retching his own climax from his body. 

He spurted hot and deep inside, his hips bucking wildly as pleasure overtook his nerves and thoughts. 

You moaned with him as pleasure washed over your body and left you weak. 

As you both breathed hard and relaxed, Jake fell back onto the mattress, pulling you down on top of him. He grinned happily as he looked up at you and kissed you softly. 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading! (Using a different tag list for kinktober so I don't overwhelm anyone.)

@flightlessangelwings @steven-grants-world @lonelyisamyw-0love @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moonss @campingwiththecharmings @minigirl87 @whatthefishh

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#kinktober 2023 #kinktober2023 #kinktober #fawktober2023 #jake lockley #moon knight #moon knight mcu #jake lockley x reader #x reader #jake lockley x you #x you #jake lockley x female reader #x female reader #jake lockley x f!reader #x f!reader #jake lockley x fem!reader #x fem!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

[captainsophiestark]

Twelve-Year-Olds

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for the Hot Writer Summer Challenge, run by @mermaidxatxheart​! Thanks again for hosting the challenge, this was super fun!

Fandom: Top Gun

Prompt/Trope: Locked in a Room

Summary: Y/N tutors Amelia Benjamin, the daughter of none other than Penny Benjamin. When Penny and Mav are away on their honeymoon, however, Y/N finally gets to meet the fourth member of their little family, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw. And when he makes the mistake of calling Amelia a twelve-year-old, she takes matters into her own hands to get him back for it while ALSO getting two of her favorite people to admit their feelings for each other.

Word Count: 2,335

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Alright, you said your brother was coming to pick you up?" I asked, helping Amelia gather her things before swinging her backpack onto her shoulder.

"Sort of. He's not really my brother, but he acts like one," she said.

"Hm. Alright..."

I didn't push for more details as we headed out of the library together. I'd been tutoring Amelia for a few months now, and we'd quickly become good friends even though I was a lot older than her. She was my favorite student I'd had to date, and I had to admit, I was a little jealous that someone else who wasn't related to her had grabbed the honorary sibling title before me.

Still, I was happy she was so happy. Her mom usually picked her up, and when her mom wasn't free her now-stepdad rolled up on his motorcycle, much to Amelia's excitement. Her mom and now-official step-dad had recently gotten married, and were currently on their honeymoon. Which left the sort-of brother to pick her up.

"You know, it's not gonna be much longer before you get your license," I mused, giving Amelia an exaggerated grin. "Pretty soon you're going to be driving yourself to and from school and tutoring and whatever else."

"Yeah, and I'm gonna steal Mav's motorcycle to do it."

"Atta girl!"

We laughed and shared a high five as we walked down the library steps. A tall, handsome man with aviators and a mustache waited, his arms crossed as he leaned against a car I recognized as Penny's Porsche.

"Hey! What are you doing with my mom's car?" Amelia called as we approached him. Apparently, this was the sort-of older brother.

"It's my payment for babysitting you while Mav and your mom are gone," he called back. "I get to drive the Porsche and the bike."

"Well that's dumb. You could've gotten cash. Put it towards buying your own bike."

He just scoffed and rolled his eyes, then looked to me as Amelia and I came to a stop in front of him. He gave me a charming smile and offered his hand for a shake.

"Rooster," he said as I took his hand.

"Y/N," I replied. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too. All this kid does is talk you up. Honestly, I've been getting a little jealous."

I smiled. "Well, don't worry, because she's been saying nothing but good things about you, too. I was actually feeling a little jealous myself."

"Well, cheers to that," he said with another gorgeous smile and a wink. We held each others' stares for a few beats, and I could feel my face heating up. We both snapped out of it when Amelia loudly cleared her throat.

"Let's go, Rooster. I'm hungry and I have stuff to do."

"Alright, alright, relax. We're going." He looked back at me again. "It was nice meeting you, Y/N."

"You too, Rooster. Maybe I'll see you around."

"Maybe you will."

He shot me one last grin as he walked around to the driver's side of the car, Amelia climbing into the passenger's side. She waved at me out the window as the pair pulled away, and I watched them disappear down the road.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then forced myself to put Rooster out of my mind. I had other things to do today besides be distracted by Amelia's handsome sort-of older brother.

************

Amelia's POV

"You think she's cute, don't you?" I asked, poking Rooster in the side as he pulled away from the library where we'd left Y/N.

"What? Amelia, come on."

I snorted. "If that's the best response you've got then you must really have a thing for her."

"I do not have a thing for her. What do you know, anyway? Aren't you like twelve?"

"I'm fifteen!"

"Same difference."

I scowled at him, but he just grinned. I huffed and crossed my arms, staring out the window instead of at Rooster. If he was going to be an idiot about it, then I was going to take matters into my own hands.

Maybe I even would've tried to loop him in if he hadn't called me twelve.

****************

Y/N's POV

I wandered into the bar owned by Amelia's mom a few weeks later, tentatively putting my head through the door first before stepping all the way inside. Amelia had asked me to do our tutoring session here today, before the bar opened, since she was apparently going sailing with her mom right after our lesson.

"Y/N!" Amelia called happily, waving me over from the far side of the bar. I smiled and walked to meet her, much more confident now that I knew I hadn't accidentally wandered in somewhere I wasn't supposed to go.

"Hey, Amelia. How's it going? This place looks great."

"Thanks," she said. "I'll tell my mom you said so."

"Where is she, by the way?"

"She's working on the boat with Mav. We're all going to sail it over to the shop later, since it needs some repairs and Maverick doesn't know how to fix boats."

"Isn't he in the navy?"

"That's what my mom always says."

We shared a laugh as I sat down next to Amelia. I unloaded all the books from my bag, setting them out in front of us, then opened the first one.

"Alright, let's get started..."

We worked for our usual hour, with Maverick and Penny breezing through a few times to say hi. I couldn't stop myself from hoping Rooster might make an appearance, but he didn't. I tried to keep myself from feeling too disappointed.

We'd seen each other a few times now, since that first meeting. Usually in the context of him picking up Amelia. Every time I saw him, my heart beat a little faster, and although we didn't really have long conversations, they were good ones. I found myself thinking about him a lot more often than I wanted to admit.

Finally, at the end of the hour, I wrapped up the lesson and Amelia and I put away all the notes and notebooks. Penny and Maverick wandered back in, both of them ready to get on the boat with Amelia now that she was free.

"I'll be right down," Amelia told her parents. "Just need to put my books away."

"Alright. We'll see you down there," said Maverick, giving me a wave as he went. Penny smiled and kissed Amelia on the head, ruffling her hair as she pulled away.

"Thanks for coming here today, Y/N," she said. "It's always a pleasure to have you around."

"It's a pleasure to be around," I replied with a smile. "I'm sure it's no secret, but I absolutely adore Amelia. She's one heck of a good kid."

"She sure is." Penny smiled fondly at her daughter, then took a few backwards steps to follow Maverick down to the boat. "We'll see you soon I'm sure, Y/N."

I smiled and waved as she went, and Amelia struggled to shove the rest of her books into her bag.

"Do you want help with that?" I asked. She huffed, tried for another minute, then shoved it towards me.

"Yes please."

I smiled and started working on the bag. Amelia shifted anxiously from foot to foot while she waited, and I could tell she was itching to get out of here and join her parents on the boat.

"You want me to put these away for you somewhere?" I asked. "If it's close, I can wrap this up and you can go help your parents."

"Yes please! Thank you so much! They go in the back closet, on the top shelf. I'll take them home later tonight, when we all get back."

"Sounds good. Have a fun trip over, and try to teach Mr. Navy something about boats while you're out there, alright?"

"Oh please," said Amelia. "He's hopeless."

I chuckled as she marched out of the room in a whirlwind. Finally, I managed to get the last of the books into the bag. I headed for the closet Amelia had pointed towards, carefully maneuvering around the crates and boxes towards the shelving in the back. I'd just reached up to put the bag on the top shelf when I heard a commotion behind me.

"Come on, Rooster, it'll just take a second!"

"Amelia, what the hell are you- Hey!"

I whirled around to find Rooster stumbling through the closet door. A look at the doorway showed Amelia standing there, apparently after shoving him, a massive grin on her face.

"Don't waste this opportunity by being stupid," she cheerfully instructed him. I started to ask what the hell she was doing, but before I could, she slammed the closet door on us. I heard the click of a lock.

A second later, Rooster was at the door, hammering at it with one fist while he tried the doorknob with the other. No luck.

"Amelia! Amelia, you get back here and open this door right now!" he yelled. As expected, he got no response.

"What the hell is going on?" I asked, walking over to Rooster. He grimaced, looked at me, then turned back to the door.

"I don't know," he muttered. "Some kind of dumb prank, probably."

I put a hand on my hip and raised an eyebrow.

"Since when does Amelia pull dumb pranks?"

Rooster sighed and lowered his head before finally taking a step away from the door and looking at me. To my surprise, he had a faint blush on his neck.

"She's trying to mess with me," he finally said, running a hand through his hair. "She keeps insisting that I have a thing for you, and I called her a twelve-year-old, so... I guess this is her payback."

"Oh."

We stood there for a few beats, avoiding looking at each other, and then I took a deep breath.

"Was she right? Do you have a thing for me?" I physically cringed at the awkwardness of the question, but I had to know. Rooster's blush deepend.

"I mean, I..." he cleared his throat and fidgeted. "I definitely think you're... cute."

He immediately scrunched up his face like he was kicking himself for the words that had just come out of his mouth. I could relate.

"Well..." I managed. "I, uh... I think you're cute, too."

His head snapped up to look at me, disbelief and hope written all over his face. I gave him a tentative smile.

"You do?" I nodded. He laughed and smiled, the tension easing out of his body. I felt the tension washing out of the room. "God, look at us. We're fully grown adults stumbling over admitting a crush for each other in a closet like it's middle school. Now who's twelve?"

"I feel like Amelia was hoping we'd be at exactly this point when she shoved you in here," I agreed. He nodded, then took a deep breath.

"So... as much as I hated being called out for it, I actually have had a thing for you since that first day we met. You're smart, you're funny, you're frankly gorgeous... what more could a guy ask for?"

I smiled at the floor, trying not to combust on the spot from the compliments.

"I feel the same way," I said. After a beat, I brought myself to meet Rooster's eyes again. "You're hysterical, and I love watching how you are with Amelia. And I almost tripped down the steps you were so handsome when I first walked out of the library."

He laughed good-naturedly, a smile staying on his face as he took a few steps towards me.

"So does this mean if I ask you on a date, you'll say yes?"

"Mmm, I don't know. Give it a try and let's find out."

He grinned and took a few more steps towards me. He stopped just a few inches from me, then put his arm against the wall next to my head and leaned against it. My heart sped up.

"Y/N, would you like to go on a date with me? Like as soon as we get out of this damn closet?"

"Absolutely," I said, unable to keep a massive smile off my face. He smiled too, then pushed off the wall and headed back to the door.

"Alright, I'm getting us out of here. And then we can go grab a coffee from a nice place I know, if that sounds good?"

"That sounds great."

He shot me another smile, and my heart melted. Then, he turned to the door with determination. I could see he was about to break it down, so I quickly stepped in.

"I think I might have an easier solution," I said. He watched carefully as I took Amelia's backpack off the shelf and dug through it until I found a few spare bobby pins. I bent them into long, straight-ish tools, then moved back to the door.

"Are you about to pick the lock with bobby pins?" asked Rooster. I hummed in confirmation. "That is so badass. And so hot."

I laughed and shot him a smile over my shoulder, then went back to working on the door. I hadn't practiced my lock-picking skills since I'd been obsessed with spy novels in college, so it took me a little longer than I would've liked, but eventually the lock clicked open.

"You. Are. Amazing," said Rooster as I straightened and turned to him with a grin.

"Thank you. I try my best. Now let's go get that coffee, shall we?"

I held out a hand, and Rooster didn't hesitate before taking it. He pulled me closer to him as we stepped out of the closet and headed for the doors of the bar, and I happily leaned into him.

Amelia was never going to let it go that she was right and that she technically deserved the credit for getting us together. I quickly decided I didn't care, though. I had a good feeling that Rooster would be worth it.

#hotwritersummerchallenge #top gun #top gun: maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster x reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun one shot #top gun imagine #rooster fanfic #rooster imagine #rooster one shot #pete maverick mitchell #penny benjamin #amelia benjamin #maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun maverick fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fanfiction

[yeeterthek33per]

New Beginnings and Interesting Reads

Mary Fowler x Reader

Requested by Anon

Honestly, she'd thought she could get away with not stopping to check on the little red light on her dash. It was just blinking so incessantly that she wanted desperately to have it just go away.

Who would have thought the great Mary Fowler, Australian Matildas Footballer, was one to ignore her car screaming at her until it forced her to pull over.

So now, she was stuck on foot, walking around a tiny ass town on the outskirts of Manchester after having it towed to the local mechanic. It wasn't tiny tiny, after all, there was, in fact, a mechanic.

There were a few dotted shops here and there, and there was a main street with a couple of grocery stores and various goods and services fronts. One that, for some reason, stood out to her was a rustic little two storey building. Standing out from the modernised concreting of the other stores surrounding it.

As she walked up to the door, she could see it was a bookstore. Books were lining the windows of varying conditions and colours.

The Rugged Pages.

Huh. Seems like something from a fantasy universe. Perfect way to kill time.

A little bell chimes when she steps in the store with a little push of the door. It's only a few seconds before a smiling employee greets her from behind one the many book laden wooden shelves.

She greets the employee back but doesn't really get a good look at them because she's too preoccupied looking around at the interior of the place.

It's a much bigger interior than she expected. Instead of a full second floor, there's a balcony that wraps around the outer walls and a set of what looks like mahogany stairs leading up from the far left. The centre of it opens up to peer into the upper ceiling and the walls of bookshelves that line the balcony.

There's dozens of shelves downstairs, with varying genres of books and age grouped stories. Starting with the kids' section towards the front and the more adult esque reads towards the far wall.

The oak counter is sat towards the far right of the back wall, a doorway just set in behind it leading in to what Mary assumes is a back/storage room.

"Is there anything I can help you with, miss?"

The accent is shockingly familiar to the aussie. A smile creeps onto her face as she gets a full look of the person behind the australian accent.

Shoulder-length hair pulled up into a high bun with a midlength undercut that looks like it hasnt been shaved down in a few weeks. A pair of plastic framed country road glasses sit on your face, and you're wearing a loose-fitting red flannel shirt tied at the waist with a browny looking red shirt underneath. It's paired together with some black jeans and a pin tacked to the outer pocket on your flanno. The pin has your name on it surrounded by intricate metal flows and vines.

It reads "Hi! My name is Y/n."

"Hey, no, I'm all good, just browsing."

You nod softly with a small smile. You tilt your head back towards where you're loading a big box of books onto some of the smaller shelves designed for kids towards the front of the store.

"Let me know if you need anything."

Mary nods softly before moving to peruse one of the shelves in with it marked 'LGBTQIA+'.

The shelf is lined with varying titles and fronts. There's markers every few books. 'MLM' 'WLW' 'Bisexual Romance' 'Chaotic Ace' (That one makes her snicker a little) 'WLW Mystery' and many other categories. She picks out a title that sticks out to her. 'The Shattered Lands' by Brenda Nation. Perfect, that will do.

She peruses a bit longer in other sections but eventually makes her way to the counter where you pop out from your spot, loading books up.

"Ah, the Shattered Lands, that's a good read. From tiktok?" A little confused, Mary shakes her head.

"No, I.. I just thought it might be interesting." You raise your brow slightly. A smile pulls at your lips.

"I'm glad then. The only time anyone buys this one is if they're fans of the author from tiktok. It's nice to see someone pick it up for the genuine interest. It was a good one to read. If you have the time, there's a little reading corner just by the window if you like."

Mary glances over. It's a comfy little nook with couches and multiple cushions, both on the floor and on the seating. She is killing time at the moment, and she mentions as such, agreeing to stay for a bit to read the book. It was gonna be a few hours before she had to go get her car again. The mechanic said she'd call Mary when the car was fixed. She's lucky. She's got a few days yet before she has anything she needs to do urgently.

"Actually, I might take you up on that offer, I'm stuck here til my car gets fixed, so I've got plenty of time to kill."

You nod in understanding, "Make yourself comfy." As you gesture to the lounge area.

She manages to bury herself into the book for about an hour, various people coming and going, some regulars that she hears you greet with a warm smile and playful tone, most new customers travelling through looking for some quick picks to read on their travels, which you greet with a bright smile and help guide them to what they're looking for.

Eventually, though, she's left feeling a little stiff and eventually gets up to wander the shelves. She finds you reading a book yourself at the counter, having completed stacking any new deliveries for the day. You look up at her as she does so, eyes following her over the top of the pages.

"So what's got you coming through here? Travelling from home? Doesn't sound too much like you're from around this area."

Her eyes crinkle with a laugh as she approaches and sits on one of the stools placed underneath the countertop.

"No, I'm just in from Manchester, I live and work there for eight months out of the year, I am from Australia though, just moved for the job, I take it you were too?"

You nod, "Little podunk set of towns in NSW. Moved up north for the opportunity with a business partner of mine. Ended up owning this place instead. Plus, the women's soccer is nice to have available to watch."

Mary blushes a little at that. Did you know?

You chuckle a little, blushing a bit yourself, oops. "Yeah, sorry, I didn't wanna call you out like that. I knew who you were, just didn't wanna bring it up on you, keep work at work, that kind of thing."

She laughs at that, shaking her head.

"Honestly, thank you for that. It's nice to have a little time to myself without any professionalism. Don't worry, though. You had me fooled for a good bit."

Your eyes sparkle with a little playfulness. "Happy to be of service, m'lady." Before continuing. "How're you liking the book so far?"

Mary, to her credit, actually had been enjoying the book, but she couldn't sit still long enough to read anymore.

"It's been pretty good, I got up to the bit about Sapphire going to find the red-haired witch in the forest to ask about what she might know about her origins."

"Ah, you're in for a treat then. The book keeps you on your toes, though."

"Right? There are so many twists already."

"But I'm guessing you're getting a little fidgety there?"

Her nose scrunches up a little, and she sheepishly nods. "Not much of a sitter I've come to discover."

You nod, biting your lip a little. "Would you wanna take a walk around town for a bit? I've got a lunch break for an hour or so. I figured, since you've time and all."

You pause to wait for a bit before backtracking again, a little flustered. "Not that you have to, I just thought you might wanna get out of here for a bit. Come look at some of the cafes with me."

Mary smiles and nods a little more enthusiasticly than she likes. "Absolutely, of course, but I wouldn't want to take up your time."

"Absolutely not, I'm offering. I kinda wanna learn more about you."

She smiles back, nodding, and you begin grabbing your stuff before leading her out of the store and locking the place up temporarily with an "on break" sign posed in the window.

You walk beside her for a few blocks, chatting idly about the town and its aspects. "There's a few places I go to when I forget to buy food for work, which today happens to be one of those days."

You lead her to a cozy little coffee shop. Inside, it's a bit warmer, and the smell of brewing liquid life permeates the air. You nod at the barista working the register. "That's Em, my most likely future best man."

Emily looks up at you as you enter. "Look who it is, ratbag. In for the morning usual?"

You shake your head amused, "Yeah, Em, and another one for the new girl."

"Hi, how are you? I'm Emily."

"Hey, nice to meet you, I'm doing pretty good, keeping this one busy, it seems."

"I'm showing her the good places to hit up in town, just getting coffee first. How do you want your coffee?"

Mary gives her order to Em, who starts working on the two beveridges right away. As you wait, she asks about the reason in particular for this town.

"Cause she can't get enough of this!" Emily yells out from behind the machine.

You roll your eyes at the barista. "Nah, you're a pain in the ass."

"You love this ass."

"Too much sometimes, honestly, why are we friends again?"

She gives you a mock offended look, clutching at invisible pearls.

You chuckle and turn back to the striker beside you. "The opportunity was there. The place was cheap, and a quick fix. Plus, the people here are okay."

Emily interjects, waving you both over.

"Actually, the people here are really nice. This one's just an asshole." She winks at Mary as she says it.

"Don't listen to her. She's just jealous cause she can't get a date in a town with a population of two hundred."

Mary raises a brow at that.

"A date?"

You flush quickly realising what you said. "I mean, it was more of a-"

"Nice going sweetheart'."

You whip your head around at the girl behind the counter. "Shut up."

Mary's head tilts back in a laugh. "If you wanted this to be a date, all you had to do was ask."

Your mouth drops open at that, and Emily laughs at your expression. Mary smirks as she picks up her drink and walks to the door, gesturing for you both to keep moving.

"I like this one, keep her around for me!"

Em calls after you, and you turn to glare at the blonde.

This woman certainly has you on your toes.

Your cheeks are basically pinker than they've ever been but you follow regardless, a little sheepish if anything.

You rub at your neck as you both slowly stroll around the corner, away from view. "Sorry about that, I just kind of assumed and I-"

"Ask me."

You look up at her confused.

"Ask me, you want it to be a date, ask me."

Your bite your lower lip trying to hold back from a massive grin.

"Will you join me in this fine, fine hour and go on a date with me?"

"Nah."

Your head does a double take before the girl chuckles and shakes her head.

"I'm kidding, of course I will."

You sigh in relief. You didn't wanna miss this opportunity. She's gorgeous, she plays your favourite sport for a living, she likes to read and she lives relatively close to you. It's nice not to have to be stuck in a one sided long distance relationship. Woah, hold your horses, hasn't gotten that far yet.

"Great, then I've got a great place we can go to, just give me a few minutes while I go lock up for the day, a half hour isn't long enough to be honest."

You're gone for about ten minutes, and you come back to Mary back inside the cafe, chatting with your friend.

"Hey, sorry about that, ready to go?"

Mary nods, and Emily waves you both goodbye.

She slips her arm around yours. You're slightly shorter than her, so it's a little weird at first, but you eventually settle into the hold.

You both walk to another section of town. There, you bring her to a place that looks like a little sandwich shop with a massive arcade attached to it. You tell her about your first encounter here. The place looked decent and turned out to be pretty good. Good enough that you were back on the regular.

"Hey, Y/n, usual today?"

Georgie greets you from behind the register.

"Not today, I'm with someone for a few hours."

"Ah, gotcha. What would you like love?"

Mary hums for a second, browsing over the menu. You watch as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth for a second, and you realise you're staring when she looks back at the cashier. "I'll have a number 12 and a water, please." "Coming right up, hon, and for you L/n?"

"I'll take a number 5 today, please."

"No mayo, extra pickles with a sunkist?"

"You got it."

"16 pound 50 today love."

You're quick to jump in and tap your card before Mary pulls her phone out. She pouts at you, and you chuckle. "I asked you out."

"Only because I told you to." You stick your tongue out at that cheekily. "I wanted to."

Your food comes quickly, and you find a table in the corner, away from the door and any large windows.

The food is amazing as per usual, and the look on Mary's face agrees with that from her first bite. The food is always good here.

"Good, right?"

She groans, "You're kidding, right? How do they make sandwiches taste so good?"

You chuckle and shrug, "No idea, must be that southern English love."

"I swear my nutritionist is gonna kill me, that and my bank account."

"Yeah, I tend to avoid this part of town most days because if I even get close to this place, I can't resist a good teriyaki chicken club."

You finish your food and drinks, and you pull her up with a giddy grin as you lead her into the arcade and grab a loaded up card from your pocket.

"The food is amazing, but the games are pretty close. Come on, I wanna see what we can win today."

You spend the better part of two hours in there, ranging from a basketball hoop shooter to the Mario Kart racer. Turns out, Mary is really good at arcade games. And it turns competitive quite a few times.

In the end, you come away with a combined 2000 tickets.

Which is honestly pretty good for two people in that amount of time. With that, you both pick out a few lollies and a stuffed bear in a soccer uniform, which you all too happily hand over to her. (*It may have cost a few thousand more than you actually earned, but she doesn't need to know that you dipped into your saved tickets for it*)

In the end, the date slows down to a slow stroll around town in the late afternoon. And it's only when she finally gets a call from the mechanic that it has to come to an end.

You walk her back to just outside the mechanics while she picks up her car and pays for the repairs. She's parked it just on the street outside the bookshop while you two talk for a bit.

"Guess this is it for the night, then?" You ask tentatively, shuffling a little.

Mary smiles softly and nods a little.

"Yeah, I have to get back to Manchester with this stuff. And I've got teammates waiting for me to get back as well."

You nod in understanding. You're a little upset about the date ending, but you don't show it.

"Thank you for agreeing to come out with me today."

"Hey, pretty girl asks me out, I'm not gonna say no. Besides, I'm definitely gonna be back. I wouldn't wanna miss out on a second date. And a chance to pay you back for the bear as well." There's a twinkle in her eye that says she damn well knows how much you spent on her earlier, and you blush a little.

"So there's a second date?" You ask with raised brow.

"If you'll have me."

"Without a doubt." You answer without hesitation. Mary grins and grabs your hands in hers. She pulls you into her, and you grin, leaning up. She meets you halfway with a soft kiss to your lips.

It sends tingles down your spine, and her hands running up and down your arms leave goosebumps in their wake, making you shiver a little.

It deepens for a second before you take a step back, stopping yourself from holding her hostage here any longer and going any further than you should.

"You're amazing, you know that?"

It has her grinning, and she scrunches her nose adorably. Her hand finds yours to squeeze it a few times before she presses one last kiss to your lips and bids you farewell.

"I'll message you soon, pretty girl, I want that second date I was promised."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, drive safe, cutie."

She waves goodbye and drives off, heading in the direction of the highway, going back to Machester.

You can still feel the tingle of lips against yours, the feel of her fingertips on your skin, and it leaves you keening for more, despite her being long gone. You'd have to keep an eye out on your phone now.

As Mary's cruising along the highway, all she can think about is how your lips felt against hers. How you'd grinned at her when she'd pulled you in to meet her against the side of her car. How easy the two of you just settled into easy banter and how open you seemed to be with her. You were definitely someone she didn't want to let go of just yet.

#mary fowler x reader #woso x reader #auswnt x reader #woso #mary fowler imagine #mary fowler imagines #woso imagine #woso imagines

[ninigummysmile]

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲 - 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞́

Summary: Everyone thinks Rosé is naive, but you discover that she's not so innocent when you read her diary

Sub!Rosé x Dom!Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Warning: This story contains +18 content. It is not the responsibility of the author if minors read it.

Important: English is not my first language so, please, forgive me if there are any mistakes

Words: 1.700

You are not one of the most studious students, who gets the highest grades and who manages to answer all the exercises. But you don't do too badly either, you have relatively good grades, an average student and you do what you can to pass the year.

That's why you're not in Rosé's circle of friends. She is an exceptional student, who gets top marks in all subjects and is always praised by teachers as an example to be followed.

You've watched her from afar and like everyone else, you can deduce that she's a sweet, kind girl who tries to help however she can. And that's why there are people who take advantage of her, leaving her with a reputation for being naive and trusting others very easily.

Do you really believe that she is the exception to "the quiet ones are the worst", because as someone who doesn't go to parties, just studies and dedicates herself to it and usually doesn't react to certain mean jokes made in class can have a polluted mind?

You snap out of your daydream when the bell rings and slowly start to pack up your stuff, briefly saying goodbye to your friends, you get up and sling your bag over your back when you spot a small book under a chair. It probably fell when someone was putting his stuff away and didn't notice it missing.

You pick up the little book and on the first page it says “This diary belongs to Rosé ” in a pink glitter pen.

Thinking it disrespectful to pry into someone's life in this way, you keep the diary with the intention of returning it first thing tomorrow morning.

During the afternoon you tried everything in your power to forget about the damn diary kept in your backpack. What could be more in those pages? Probably just reports of what her days are like and important memories she doesn't want to forget...

You know you'll be invading her privacy if you read something that personal, and you feel bad just imagining yourself reading it. But you were always so curious, stubborn and that when you want something you go to the end. You decide that you will only read the first few pages with the certainty that there will be nothing dark and if you start reading something too intimate, you will stop immediately.

You place the diary on top of your bed and after long minutes staring at the cover, you open it again to the first page and read the small name again. “Rosé”. You're about to learn things about a classmate that you've never seen speak openly about herself to others.

Turning to the second page, the title “Thought 23” appears large. You realize that this must be the second version of a diary. In cursive it reads:

“Today she was biting the top of her pen while she was concentrating on paying attention in class and I couldn't help but imagine that same mouth biting my nipples.”

You stop for a second wide-eyed and trying to decipher if that's what you just read. Does Rosé, the innocent, sweet, kind girl just write that kind of thing when no one is around?

Your eyes automatically return to the paragraph and continue:

“With your hands trailing all over my body while your mouth plays with my breasts. I already imagined her beautiful lips on all parts of my body, especially on my pussy, but I can't deny that the sight of her swallowing my breasts must be magnificent.”

You swallow hard. So Rosé imagines herself with another girl? And it's not just thoughts, to begin with there are more than 20 and for her to write, they are more than imaginations, it's a desire that she unconsciously wants to really happen.

On the third page, a new title, “Thought 24” occupies the first lines.

“Y/n. It's all that occupies my mind. Y/n, Y/n and Y/n.”

That's what you read? Does Rosé think of you? Is the diary about you? Are these imaginations all about you?

“Y/n, who has a pretty face when she's trying to solve an exercise and I wonder if that's the same look she has when she's about to come. With her furrowed brows and a little pout that makes me want to kiss it away.”

Your breathing quickens and you are momentarily dizzy, absorbing that the diary concerns you. The book is not all complete, looking for the last filled page, you find “Thought 32”. You ponder whether from the beginning this is about you or what page it started from.

After reading everything, you don't know how you're going to return the lost diary, you don't even know if you can look her in the eyes and pretend you don't know anything.

The next morning, you hope to find the blonde hair in the hall before you enter the classroom because that way it will be less embarrassing. You catch them from afar and when she approaches you say “good morning”.

“Good morning” she replies with the same shyness as always and staring at the floor.

“Can we talk?” she nods and you walk into a room that you know won't be used during that time of day. You take the diary out of your bag and hold out your hand for her to take. “I found it yesterday under your chair, I believe it fell and you didn’t notice”

You can see her cheeks flush and her hands grab the material quickly putting it inside her bag. “You read?” her voice is weak and full of shame.

“No” you reply and take a deep breath. “Yes, I read it” you confess. “I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have, but my curiosity increased tenfold when I found out it was a diary!"

She doesn't know what to say, she just wants a big hole to form around her and swallow her whole. She mentally already makes plans to change schools and not need to look at you ever again. Maybe she'll even move out of town.

“You know…” you break the silence. “When I read all of this stuff you write about me, I couldn't deny how wet I was. I didn't know these thoughts would make me so excited”

You can see by her face that her mind is completely blank and you can't hold back a little laugh. “C’mon, baby. You're not going to play innocent now, are you? This same person standing here in front of me is the same person who wrote so many impure thoughts about me”

“I didn't think you'd ever know about all this” she says quietly, but you can hear her.

“But now I know. So, just ask me, your wish can come true”

“Serious?” you smile, she is very cute.

“All you ever had to do was ask me. You don't know it, but you always had me in the palm of your hand” you tuck a lock of hair behind her ear and slowly your lips meet. What started out as a gentle kiss quickly turns into a fierce and battle for dominance.

You separate with shortness of breath and you command “sit at the table”. She obeys and opens her legs for you to position yourself between them.

The buttons on her uniform are undone one by one and the fabric slides down her arms, your hands deftly unclasping her bra. “Is this how you imagined it?” you ask before biting down on one of her nipples and she throws her head back.

Trying to put as much of her breast in your mouth as possible, your hand that was playing with the other one starts to explore and slide over her body, exactly as described in the diary.

You make her lie down on the cold table and unzip her skirt, tossing it beside your feet. You see her stain marking her wet panties and without a second thought, your tongue licks her entrance over the thin fabric. She tries to suppress her moans by biting her hand, but you can still hear her whimpers as you circle her bundle of nerves.

You remove her panties and almost groan at the beautiful sight. “That's the most beautiful fucking pussy I've ever seen in my life”

Rosé can swear this is just another one of her dreams and that when she wakes up she'll have to relieve herself, but when your tongue teases her clit and her eyes roll back deliciously, she's sure this is really happening.

You can swear that you would spend hours eating her out, in all possible positions. She tastes sweet, her swollen clit makes you want to devour it, and her beautiful, tight hole contracting around nothing makes you want to make her come over and over again just to see her contracting around air, just asking for something to fill it more and more.

You insert two fingers and they are swallowed by her soft and tight walls. The sound it makes when you move them in and out is pornographic and addictive.

Your mouth goes back to sucking on the bundle of nerves and you're determined to make this the best orgasm she's ever had.

Her legs begin to shake violently and when her eyes slam shut, you know your reward is coming. When her juice comes into contact with your fingers, you help her through orgasm before pulling them out and cleaning them with all the thirst in the world. Her pussy twitching, begging to be filled again, almost makes you come back with your fingers, but you settle for cleaning it with your mouth, knowing she must be overstimulated.

You bite and mark her thigh as her breathing returns to normal and she can come back to reality.

“There you are” you comment helping her to sit down.

“That was amazing”

“Yeah? How did you imagine?”

“Even better” she says and you smile.

“Good, because you can expect more like these. I want to make every page of that a fact and not just a thought” you wink and help get her clothes back on.

#rosé park #rosé #park chaeyoung #bp rosé #kpop smut #blackpink #rosé smut #blackpink smut #ninigummysmilesmut #rosé x reader

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Midnight | Chapter 1 | S.R

Chapter Summary - Spencer is running out of time to evade capture and he reflects on the journey he’s been on. You drop a bombshell that could change everything.

A/N - this chapter is present day, all other chapters will be set a few months prior leading up to this chapter. Chapter title from the Set it Off album “Midnight”. Song lyrics at the end of the chapter.

Pairing - unsub! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | very eventual happy ending

Warnings - unsub Spencer, murder, vigilante, swearing, talk of suicide by cop, getting caught.

WC - 5k

Chapter One - Killer in the Mirror

“Sometimes there is no darker place than our thoughts, the moonless midnight of the mind.”

It all unravelled a lot faster than he could have ever anticipated. His carefully wound ball of yarn in which he weaved his secret life was untangling before his very eyes, his meticulously curated alter ego coming apart at the seams. 

Never let your guards down, the cardinal rule. Never trust anyone, never let them in. What was the point in creating these walls if he was going to be so quick to take them down and let someone in? 

He was smarter than this. He was so much smarter than this. He should never have found himself in this position, covering his tracks should have been the easy part. 

He had years of experience under his belt studying the crimes of morons who inevitably got themselves caught. When he’d found himself on this path, he swore he’d never fall victim to the idiocy of human behaviour. Most specifically: affairs of the heart. 

Love had a way of wrapping its evil talons around you, sneaking in through cracks you weren’t even aware had formed. He’d been so sure he’d built those walls air tight, thrown away the keys to the gates surrounding his heart. Love infected you, little by little, day by day. And not only his heart had been affected, but his mind too. 

Sex was one thing. Sex was carnal, primitive. Sex was a basic human desire, one that he craved just as much as the next person. Pleasure, not necessarily intimacy, a fulfilling of a base need. Sex allowed him to still keep his guards intact and unscathed. If it had just been about sex he might not have found himself in this position. 

The lust had intertwined itself with love somewhere deep within his soul. He’d no longer been thinking solely of his own survival, he’d gotten distracted. You had distracted him from his goal. And now there was no going back, no way to undo all the miss steps he’d taken. 

He could blame you but he knew it was entirely pointless. He couldn’t hold you accountable for the fact he’d become preoccupied because he was the only one at fault here. Every decision he’d made, he’d made alone. You’d diverted his attention, but he was the catalyst that ultimately led to this situation. 

Every choice he’d made since leaving the BAU had been his own doing. Taking justice into his own hands, ridding the world of one evil at a time, the literal and metaphoric blood was on his hands and his hands alone. You’d simply found yourself at the wrong place at the wrong time and been catapulted into his new, twisted idea of law enforcement. 

What confused him the most was how, in the space of a few months, you’d gotten your clutches into his heart. It had to be something to do with the intense, high pressure nature of the situation that had caused him to believe he was feeling things that weren’t really there. He’d known you countless years before all of this and he was sure his heart had never called to you the way it did now. 

Maybe it was all in his head and not in his heart at all. Maybe being in love with you was an easier explanation for how he’d gotten distracted than admitting he may have just gotten sloppy. He supposed ultimately it didn’t matter much why it had happened, only that it did. And laying the blame elsewhere was an easier pill to swallow. 

It was probably inevitable that his wrong doings would catch up on him eventually, he just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. He’d been prepared since day one, since the day he decided to embark on this new life; he’d always known how he would choose for it to end should it come to this. 

He was not going back to prison, to the place that had led him here in the first place. No, he wasn’t getting caught. He would sooner die than go back there, and that seemed as though it would be a likely outcome. 

He could run. Again. He’d gotten so good at that. He still had a small window of time before the place was surrounded, he could flee once more into the night. But then what? His time was running out and he knew it, it wouldn’t be long before they found him again, they were the best at what they did after all. 

He could probably evade them a little longer if he wanted to but what if he didn’t want to? The truth was, he was tired, maybe too tired to fight the inevitable anymore. Running could only get him so far. But he wouldn’t give up without one last fight, he would go down in a blaze of glory. 

Who knows, death might even be a reprieve, there was something so bittersweet about the idea of being dragged down into his own demise by people he had once called friends. He could get off a couple of shots, over their heads so as not to injure them, but enough to cause the trigger happy local cops to return fire. It was the only way he could picture it ending, in a shower of bullets. 

He picked up the gun from where it sat on the edge of the sink and tucked it into the back of his waistband. He hadn’t used a firearm in some months, preferring a more brutal and hands on method for his extra curricular activities. 

He swallowed thickly as he gripped the sides of the basin and let his eyes cast upwards to the grimy old mirror over the sink. The smirk adorned on his lips was menacing as he took in the reflection of the man he’d become. Or maybe it was the man he’d always been somewhere deep inside. 

It was possible he’d simply managed to keep this side of himself locked up, but over the years the cage had been rattled and eventually the monster had been set free. And once he’d been released, there was no stopping him. 

He’d been twenty three years old the first time he’d had to kill someone on the job. Philip Dowd, the LDSK who had taken him and Hotch hostage. The only way out was for him to shoot the guy. For months, maybe even years after, the look in Dowd’s eyes as he realised he was about to die haunted his dreams. The nightmares that had ensued and the guilt that flooded every fibre of his being was a feeling he’d never wanted to experience again. 

It wasn’t until he was in his forties that he first killed for pleasure, slashing the throat of a serial murderer who had evaded capture. He’d purposefully tracked him down and taken the hunting knife to the man’s neck. He was sure he’d been grinning when the blood spilled from the other man’s carotid artery. The warm, sticky substance coating his hands had permeated his sleeping hours, only this time it didn’t scare him. It excited him. 

At forty two years old, Spencer Reid finally found his reason for living. And he didn’t miss the irony that his life’s purpose was death. Killing those people who had flown under the radar of cops and FBI, who’s crimes had gone unpunished, filled him with a kind of ecstasy nothing else in his life ever had. It wasn’t as though they didn’t deserve it, he’d never kill an innocent person, he was simply speeding up the slow turning wheels of justice. 

And he’d never felt more alive. 

The eyes staring back at him were darker than he’d ever seen them, black like his soul had become. His pupils bled into his irises, it was like looking into the eyes of the devil himself. He didn’t recognise what he’d become, but surprisingly that didn’t bother him. 

He reached up and ran one hand through his tangled mess of hair which had long grown down his neck and he often needed to push strands back off of his face and out of his eyes. His hand moved down the side of his face, cupping his beared jaw which hadn’t seen a razor in months. He found he liked the rugged look, it made him appear more dangerous, just as he felt. 

He straightened up, adjusted his tie and brushed out the creases in the front of his crisp white button down. If he was going to let them take him down, he would at least leave a good looking, well dressed corpse. 

As he adjusted the firearm in its position at his lower back, he heard the motel door creak loudly as it was opened, followed swiftly by it slamming shut noisily. He kept his eyes trained on the mirror while footsteps padded his way and then the bathroom door flew open against its hinges. 

You caught his eye in the mirror, a slightly wild look on your face as you glared at him. Your eyebrows were so high they practically reached your hairline. He offered you a look that told you to speak, as opposed to just staring at him like he could somehow read your mind.

“What are you doing? Come on, we’ve gotta go!” You sounded exasperated. 

Spencer’s eyes flicked back over his own reflection as his hands languidly moved to straighten his tie again, like he had all the time in the world and not at all as though his crimes were about to catch up on him.

“Why run? I’m tired of running.” He spoke without looking at you. 

“You’re throwing in the towel?” You huffed, stepping closer to him. “They’ll send you back to prison.”

“Not if I have my way.” He smirked into the mirror, feeling you moving even closer to him. 

“No, no way.” You shook your head, suddenly clutching him by the shoulders and turning him to face you. 

He spun around on his heels, pressing his back up against the basin and crossing his arms over his chest. He looked down on you with manic eyes, eyebrows furrowed deeply showcasing his frustrations. 

“Y/N,” he began in that cool, collected tone you’d grown used to. Usually that timbre was enough to stop you in your tracks, but not today.

“No,” You spoke again, shaking your head in defiance. “I will not let you go out that way. Suicide by cop? Nuh uh, not on my watch.” 

Spencer’s eyes turned impossibly blacker and his lip tugged up at the corner in a threatening smirk. He unfolded his arms and you swallowed thickly as his hands came to rest on your shoulders. It was a similar gesture to what you’d previously just done to him only his hands were heavy on you, blunt fingernails pressing into the muscles diligently. You wouldn’t be surprised if he left bruises, it certainly wouldn’t be the first time. 

“When do you think you started to have a say in what I choose to do?” He spoke softly, an odd juxtaposition from the way he surveyed you and held you. 

“Maybe when I ended up being dragged into this mess. This isn’t just about you, Spencer. I don’t want to die like this.” 

“And I’m not stopping you from leaving. I have never once stopped you from leaving, in fact I seem to remember I actively encouraged your doing so. Run away, Y/N, tell them that I kidnapped you or something. Tell them I held you against your will. It doesn't matter to me, I won’t be around to find out.” His hands slid from your shoulders, down your biceps and forearms before falling to his sides, physically and metaphorically letting you go. 

“No,” You shook your head again. “Not after everything we’ve been through to get here. Not after all the trouble I’ve gone through for you. This is not how this ends.” 

Spencer chuckled murderously, stepping even closer to you which caused you to take a few steps back until your back was pressing up against the bathroom door. He towered over you, his height once a thing that made you feel safe but he was now using it against you. 

This time he only raised one hand and it came to nestle against your throat, almost delicately at first. His long, nimble fingers caressed the soft flesh of your neck but it was over in a second and soon he was tightening his hold on you, like a snake coiling itself around its prey. 

His eyes briefly flit down to the necklace hanging from your neck, the one you hadn’t taken off since the day he brought it for you. It was a symbol, an emblem that you belonged to him and you wore it with pride. 

“Princess,” He breathed, pressing his palm against your windpipe. “I never asked for your help. And you don’t get a say in this. So either run away or face off with the cops with me. Either way, it doesn’t matter to me.” 

He gave you a firm squeeze, causing you to choke a little before he was suddenly letting you go and pushing you aside so he could leave the bathroom. You coughed to clear your throat, scrambling after him into the motel bedroom. You watched as he strolled to the window, pushed the curtains aside a few inches and peered between the crack. 

Nothing but a few cars in the desolate parking lot and dark desert sky awaited him. They should be here by now. By all accounts they should have had the place surrounded by now, what was keeping them? He would smile and wave as he took his final encore, shooting his bullets into the dusty air while his old team greeted him and he fell to his knees in the dirt as the bullets ripped through him. 

Goodbye Emily. Goodbye JJ. Goodbye Luke, Matt and Tara. Goodbye Rossi. Goodbye Garcia, I hope they caught this on tape for you. 

“Spencer!” You called his name with an urgency he’d never heard from your lips and it caused him to turn to you with a frustrated frown.

“You should leave now if you’re going to. They will be here any minute.” 

“I can’t.” You shook your head and he noticed the way your eyes glossed over. 

Frown deepening, he took a few steps away from the window, meeting you in the middle of the grimy room. The closer he got, the more he could see the tears filling your beautiful eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” He questioned, hand raising once more only this time it settled on your face. He cupped your cheek with delicate precision, such a stark contrast to the way he’d wrapped his hand around your throat moments before. “Can’t bear to leave me?” 

“It’s not that.” You nuzzled against his hand. “I can’t let you do this, Spencer.”

A single tear fell from your eye, rolling down your cheek but Spencer caught it on his thumb and brushed it away. Your lip trembled and you sniffed noisily to try and stave off anymore. 

“What is it you aren’t saying? If this is just about feelings, Y/N, you’ll find someone else. Trust me.” 

“No, it’s not about…” You swallowed, pouting at him. “This is bigger than just us now.” 

As if a damn had broken, tears started cascading down your face at an alarming rate but Spencer wiped away each one. His eyes narrowed on you, trying to read your thoughts, trying to ascertain the things you weren’t vocalising. 

It wasn’t until you tore your eyes off of him and he followed your gaze downwards that he realised what was happening. At first he thought you were looking at the floor but he quickly discerned your eyes had stopped somewhere higher. Trailing upwards from your feet he distinguished you were looking right at your stomach. 

His hand abruptly fell from your face to his side and his eyes snapped up to look at your face once more. You met his confused and slightly bewildered gaze, all the while tears were still rolling down your cheeks. He stumbled a little on his feet, looking like he had been punched in the gut. You’d never seen him look so lost before.

“Say something,” you choked on a sob, hands coming to cradle your stomach out of instinct. 

Spencer opened his mouth before quickly closing it again, rolling his bottom lip briefly between his teeth before trying to find his words once more. Again, he opened and closed his mouth, the only discernible sound was a small whimper he let leave his parted lips. His hands were noticeably jittering, his thumb tapping against the side of his thigh as if the rhythm was helping calm him. 

You stared at him, waiting for him to speak, begging him with your eyes to say anything, anything other than just staring at you this way. You watched his eyes flit from your face to your stomach and back again several times before they finally settled on your eyes.

“You’re…?” He croaked hoarsely. “We’re…?”

“Yes.” You nodded, using one hand to wipe the tears that were hindering your vision. “Eleven weeks.” 

He opened his mouth to speak again but this time before he could get any words out he heard something off in the distance. Judging by the way your eyes widened, you heard it too. Your tears fell heavier and Spencer turned back to the window, creeping towards it and cracking the curtains barely an inch. The pitch black desert was lit up by the unmistakable blue halos, somewhere far off but certainly heading your way. The wail of the sirens quickly grew louder as they closed in on the motel. 

“Shit.” He spat, hurriedly pulling the curtains again and turning to regard you. “Shit.”

“This can’t be how it ends.” You held your stomach tighter, even more tears now breaking free. 

Spencer made quick work of crossing the room to you and placing his large hands over your smaller, delicate ones. His own eyes gave away to his fear, and if Spencer was scared you knew to be petrified. Spencer Reid was scared of nothing. 

“I won’t let it, I’ll think of something.” He closed his eyes like that might help him form a coherent thought. 

Wake up, snap out of it. Or you may well never wake up again.

His earlier conviction for his death at the hands of law enforcement had flown out the window the second you’d shared your news. He couldn’t exit this mortal coil in such a way, not now he had a child on the way. He was not leaving his child like his own father had abandoned him. There had to be a way. There just had to be.

It was funny how one simple thing could change his mind so drastically. Spencer had been sure he was ready for where this was heading, ready to stop running, to stop fighting the inevitable. He didn’t think anything or anyone could change his mind. But this wasn’t just about him or you anymore. There was so much more on the line. Getting caught suddenly wasn’t an option. 

The sirens grew louder and he could hear the gravel under tires as the vehicles got closer. The blue light of the flashing beacons bathed the room ominously, he could see it even behind his closed lids.

“Spencer!” You cried, jiggling up and down. “Spencer, do something!” 

His eyes shot open and landed on the timepiece hanging on the wall. As he watched the clock roll to midnight, Spencer knew whatever he did next he had to be sure of. If he wasn’t then the three of you might not make it out of this alive. In a perfect world, you would all get away, but as long as Spencer could secure your safety then he would have to be ok with that. As long as you lived to bring their child into the world he could worry about everything else later. 

But he had to do everything in his power for all three of you to make it out of this. 

“Spencer!” You screamed as the sirens reached fever pitch, tires screeching on the asphalt outside as multiple vehicles came to abrupt stops outside the window. 

The blue light completely encompassed the room, glowing harshly against your skin. Car doors started to slam closed and heavy footsteps on the gravelly parking lot got closer. He was sure he could hear weapons being drawn, sharp intakes of breath as the people outside his room took aim. 

“Spencer Reid, we know you’re in there.” A voice sounded over a megaphone, causing you to gasp in recognition. “Spencer, we just want to help you, please?”

Emily Prentiss’ tone was stern yet held the sadness of chasing one of her own. You looked petrified and that was only intensified when Spencer started smiling. He surprised you when he took off past you back towards the bathroom. Frowning, you quickly followed. 

“What are you doing? Spencer!” You chased after him and found him standing in the bathtub on his tiptoes and toying with a vent above the shower head. 

You watched in confusion as he made quick work of the four screws holding the vent in place before yanking it off the wall and tossing it aside. He turned back to you with a smile.

“You think I didn’t scope out an escape route?” He chuckled, holding out his hand for you which you took as you stepped into the tub. “It’s just big enough for a human body to fit through on their front. It’s a straight path, the vent on the outside is already loosened, I made sure of it. As soon as you’re out, you’re going to run. Run as fast as you fucking can and do not look back. I’ll take care of the rest.” 

“Spencer Reid! If you can hear me, you need to come out with your hands up!” Emily’s voice sounded angrier now and he knew he didn’t have much time. 

“What about you? You’ll be right behind me, right?” You grabbed his face in your hands, cloying to him like he was your only lifeline. 

“Don’t worry about me, princess.” He smiled, bowing his head to capture your lips in a chaste kiss as he placed his hand on your belly. “I need you to focus on yourself and this little one.” 

“Spencer, do not get yourself killed.” You sobbed. “We can’t do this without you.” 

“And you won’t.” He tried to insist, although he wasn’t entirely sure of that fact himself. “Everything’s going to be just fine.”

He kissed you again, this time laced with slightly more passion. Then he took a step back in the tub, bent down and placed a kiss on your stomach. 

“Reid, if you don’t come out in the next sixty seconds we will breach the room.” This time it was Luke’s voice that permeated your momentary solitude. 

“Spencer, I’m scared.” You whimpered when he stood back to his full height. 

“I know. But trust me when I say, everything will be ok.” He wiped your tears once more whilst reaching behind himself with his free hand. 

When he grasped your wrist and placed his firearm in your palm, you gasped, shaking your head frantically. 

“Spence?”

“Take it, just in case.” He curled your fingers around it before ushering you towards the vent. 

He wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you from behind, closer to the vent opening. You turned your head and placed one last kiss on his lips. 

“I lo…” you choked, quickly correcting yourself. “You’re my partner in crime, Spencer Reid.” 

“And you’re mine. But I promise you I will see you sooner than you think.” He hoisted you higher and you tossed the gun up inside the vent before reaching out and grabbing the ledge. 

He knew it wasn’t a promise he could keep, you probably knew it too, but he hoped it helped in any small way. 

You pulled yourself up with Spencer’s help and wriggled onto your stomach in the small opening. When his hands left your body you suddenly felt desperately alone, wanting to immediately drop back down, fall into his arms and never let him go. 

“Go, Y/N, please. You have to go.” He encouraged you. 

“Thirty seconds, Reid! Don’t be stupid. Come out with your hands up!” Luke’s voice engulfed you both and with a small whimper you started to crawl forward down the vent, leaving half of your heart behind. 

Spencer bent down and retrieved his second weapon from its hiding place inside his boot. He only had seconds to pull off a miracle. If this went wrong he would be killed, or worse, arrested. 

Quickly stepping out of the tub and opening the cabinet beneath the sink he pulled out the large canister he’d stashed under there earlier in the day. It had been his back plan of sorts, if for whatever reason he changed his mind and decided to fight this. And now he was glad he’d had the forethought. This could quite literally blow up in his face. But he had to try, for the sake of his unborn baby. 

“Twenty seconds!” Luke yelled again but Spencer wasn’t perturbed. 

Taking a deep breath he uncapped the bottle and rushed back into the bedroom where he poured two thirds of it onto the strategic pile of clothes he’d left on the floor next to the bed. He walked backwards towards the bathroom, drizzling a trail from the clothes to the bathroom door. 

“Ten seconds!” Luke called once again. 

Spencer dropped the now empty container on the floor and stepped back inside the tub. He manoeuvred under the shower head and clambered up onto the lip of the tub, only just able to grip the edge of the vent opening. 

His hand shook a little as he pointed his gun over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes on his target. One false move and it would all be over. He had one shot to get this right or he would never have the chance to meet his child. 

He curled his finger around the trigger at the exact moment he heard the front door come crashing down and a flurry of law enforcement breach the motel. He took aim, he tightened his grip on the gun. Just as he was about to pull the trigger, he caught a glimpse of his reflection and he smiled at himself. 

There was a killer in the mirror. And that killer was him. 

Look out, they're closing in on you now,

Wake up, or you'll wake up six feet down.

Nobody's got your back in this town,

Knock 'em in the teeth now.

Out here, there's no negotiation,

No room to start a conversation.

Before you get a taste, it's taken,

Never let your guard down.

Get back, put your hands up, kinda messed up, but it's tough luck,

And I'm sorry, but I don't feel bad for you.

'Cause I know if you could switch this,

You'd be dishing out the same shit,

Saying sorry, but I don't feel bad.

Now I know there's no one I can trust,

I used to think there was.

Tell me that I'm cutthroat,

I think you got your eyes closed.

Feel the fear and swallow back the tears,

Let weakness disappear.

There's nobody but me here,

The killer in the mirror.

Killer in the, killer in the, killer in the mirror.

Killer in the, killer in the, killer in the mirror.

Where did all of the good people go?

They hide behind the bars on windows.

In hopes they can forget we're close,

Tryna get some of what they've got.

'Cause I used to believe in justice,

A place where there was better judgement.

But now I'm feeling so disgusted,

By the "have its" and the "have nots".

Get back, put your hands up, kinda messed up, but it's tough luck,

And I'm sorry, but I don't feel bad for you.

'Cause I know if you could switch this,

You'd be dishing out the same shit,

Saying sorry, but I don't feel bad.

Now I know there's no one I can trust,

I used to think there was.

Tell me that I'm cutthroat,

I think you got your eyes closed.

Feel the fear and swallow back the tears,

Let weakness disappear.

There's nobody but me here,

The killer in the mirror.

Killer in the, killer in the, killer in the mirror.

Killer in the, killer in the, killer in the mirror.

Knock 'em in the teeth now,

Never let your guard down.

Get some of what they've got,

"Have its" and the "have nots".

Knock 'em in the teeth now,

Never let your guard down.

When they step in your house,

Knock, knock, knock, knock 'em all the fuck out.

Now I know there's no one I can trust,

I used to think there was.

Tell me that I'm cutthroat (yeah, tell me that I'm cutthroat),

I think you got your eyes closed (I think you got your eyes closed).

Feel the fear and swallow back the tears,

Let weakness disappear.

There's nobody but me here,

The killer in the mirror.

Killer in the, killer in the, killer in the mirror (killer in the mirror).

Killer in the, killer in the, killer in the mirror (kill, oh yeah).

Feel the fear and swallow back the tears,

Let weakness disappear.

There's nobody but me here,

The killer in the mirror.

Killer in the, killer in the, killer in the mirror.

Killer in the, killer in the, killer in the mirror.

Next chapter

Taglist

@andiebeaword @muffin-cup @takeyourleap-of-faith @dirtytissuebox @smurphyse @ssa-uglywhore27 @thebloomingeagle @dreatine @dr-spencerr-reidd @spenxerslut @radtwinkie @drayshadow @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @safespacespence @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @people-whatabunchofbastards @justreadingficsdontmindme @dielgonacoffee @hotchandspencearedilfs @spencer-reid-wonderland

#spencer reid #unsub spencer #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

[atopvisenyashill]

there’s a few potential sansa romantic endgames that i think have some textual basis and i think all of them come with a lot of issues wrt sansa being able to publically claim these relationships which is why i think sansa will say her children are “fathered by a wolf” because regardless of Who she’s with or even the legality of it, she’s going to be actively concealing their identity AND YET she needs to have children.

i think especially that even though arya’s love life is guaranteed to be less complicated, sansa will feel obligated to take this “burden” of ensuring their line onto herself; she wants arya to have the freedom to go where she pleases, be with who she pleases, and follow her passions and that is not easy to do if everyone is expecting you to come home and start popping out kids. I consider them a sort of reflection of ned and lyanna in this way in that sansa, second born and not meant to rule, uses her newfound power to let the wild, youngest girl (but not youngest child) in the family follow her passions wherever they may take her.

this is all kind of weird with the nixed time jump but considering that george has talked about writing stories from arya’s pov about her adventures, I think it’s going to be fairly important in story regardless of their ages that arya will attempt to offer to stay home and marry and have children as a way of helping to protect sansa’s very shaky claim on winterfell but that sansa encourages arya to do whatever she wants. to travel, to help shepherd the boatloads of refugees from the various wars to wherever they want to call home, to settle displaced northerners in other parts of westeros as well, to get involved in the lives of the people arya is helping and agree to help them liberate their own homes by using her skills (crucial here that arya is A leader but not the SOLE leader), or to go out into the woods and be a secret not-quite-an-outlaw (bc sansa isn’t outlawing anything that could hurt arya’s lil crusades, probably is helping bankroll arya) to bring justice to the smallfolk, like whatever it is arya wants to do with her life, the point is that she offers to give it up and sansa refuses to take the offer.

and then we have the idea that her kids are fathered by a wolf. not elizabeth-ing herself here exactly because she’s having children but never publicly acknowledging a father or a husband or even a lover.

i think the candidates most likely are jon snow and theon, with both brienne and podrick as like “i’m not saying he’s gonna do it but i am saying they make a lot of sense narratively” and aegon vi as a huge long shot but still undeniable contender. if briensa does go canon everyone owes me five bucks each tho. i think the options other people float are not just wildly unserious they also clearly don’t think sansa will be The Ruling Lady Of Winterfell, but some much more minor or less emotionally resonant title and i just do not vibe with that shit at all. harry the heir, sandor, sweetrobin, tyrion, littlefucker, like never mind sansa never once showing any real interest in these guys and NONE of these dudes being satisfied by the idea of being her secret husband, if sansa says to arya “yeah i’m marrying tyrion” arya is going “blink twice if you’re being held hostage and you need me to kill him” but it’s too late because jon snow is already unsheathing longclaw and bran is attacking with every raven in winterfell. it’s not fucking happening and imo it’s unserious to pretend like it could happen in canon. (and if it DOES happen in canon you will find me rocking up to george’s house in jersey and demanding to know why he’s so weird about teenage girls). i think margaery is a huge long shot here (and not just bc it would make them both canonically on screen gay) because i don’t think she’s gonna live to the ending, and jeyne poole is too traumatized at this point in time for me to feel confident in putting her in the same category as brienne and pod.

(theon’s trauma is WHY i think he’s still a contender - post reek theon is going to struggle a lot with figuring out where he’s supposed to be, who he’s supposed to be, and who he can trust as he puts himself back together, and that lends itself nicely to the idea of a secret husband/lover imo. once again, we are talking extreme trauma bonding here - that’s just the only way i see sansa’s romances going).

if you’re asking “who do you think arya is winding up with” it’s gendry. i don’t doubt that there were some plans for edric dayne, arya, and gendry but i think gendry was always going to be her great love here, that she’s always going to turn down the idea of marriage to him but gendry doesn’t care so long as they are still together. there’s a neon blinking sign over gendry’s head that says “endgame material” and i think it’s unserious to pretend it’s not there too!!

#again my conspiracy here is that he can’t do all the rhaegar/lyanna/robert/ned/ashara/cat paralleling he would like and it’s thrown him off #that’s my rant of the day aksjdj #getting on my soap box #theonsa #jonsa #briensa #jeynsa #what’s the pod sansa name i always forget #the sun and moon in endless chase

[ratatouillewastakendammit]

Pairing: Chrollo x Reader

Summary: a smutty excerpt from my full-length Chrollo fanfic. However, I think that it can be read standing alone as well. Enjoy!

Warnings: smut, language, some fluff at the end <3

It was quite nice to have something that could be dubbed 'home.'

Over the past few years, you had stayed in many places, but none of them earned the title. They lacked certain qualities that one might include in this category.

There was no breath of relief when you walked inside, only a looming forecast of some new threat approaching. There was definitely no feeling of contentment, the expectation of moving ever-present. The penthouse, on the other hand, possessed many of these traits, though you weren't certain it was because of the building, rather the person you shared it with.

Safety and comfort were easily achieved when you pulled into the parking lot, two check marks on your mental list considering this issue, but there was something else present as well.

The air seemed hollow. It filled your lungs, leaving an empty feeling in your stomach, waiting to be appeased.

You should let him kiss you at the party.

Fuck you, Hisoka Morow.

This feeling followed you into the elevator, a phantom of satisfaction just begging to be exorcised. It's ghostly voice tickled your own vocal chords in a masquerade of confidence.

"You can..." You cleared your throat, but the sound that came out was still annoyingly quiet. "You can, um, kiss me now. Only if you want, I mean."

With a ding, the doors opened. Chrollo glanced down at you before stepping out into the hallway, making you avert your eyes immediately. "I don't know. I really should start making dinner."

"Are you serious?" You whined, following after him into the penthouse. Usually, the tone would have made you cringe internally, but enough of his antics had been endured tonight. He silently waited until you had gotten inside before closing the door and locking it behind you.

With a discontented sigh, you reached around your back to begin taking off the confining gown. While beautiful, it had become uncomfortable after a while, as most pretty things did.

Your hands never made it.

Instead, they were snatched midair, completely forgotten as Chrollo's lips crashed against yours. You gasped, but he captured the noise easily, dropping your hands in favor of cupping your face with one of his. Another found its way around your waist, offering a bit of support as you began to melt further and further into his arms.

The feeling of Chrollo's mouth against yours was captivating, possessing a siren-like allure that overpowered your corporeal need for oxygen.

If this was what asphyxiation was like, you would gladly suffocate under his control.

Backing up, you attempted to find something, anything, to lean on, scared that if this continued your legs might turn to putty. Thankfully, he followed, keeping a constant hold on your frame.

A wall hit your back, prompting another startled exhale. He took advantage of this one too, running his tongue against the rim of your bottom lip in a wordless request. The air in your lungs seemed to dissipate as you allowed his tongue to meet yours, clinging to his touch like it was your only lifeline.

Every bit of contact was felt in your abdomen, a quiet spark that had you sighing in delight.

So when he finally pulled away, you couldn't help the quiet, pitiful whine that left your throat.

His breathing wasn't anywhere near as quick, but as he rested his forehead against yours, the ardent look in his eyes seemed to be quite the indication as to what was running through his mind.

"Is this okay?"

Oh.

Oh.

And you immediately decided that it was. Your words back at the party were nothing but honest.

You wanted him.

You wanted to be his, in every way possible.

Regardless, your fervent nod didn't seem to satisfy him.

"I'm sorry, dearest, but I'm going to need you to use your words." Using a finger, he tilted your chin upward, urging your gaze to meet his. "Now I'll ask again; Is this alright?"

"Yes." You breathed. "Please keep going."

At your acceptance, he closed the distance between you once more, the kiss turning hungry and desperate.

Every moment was pure bliss, but it was never enough.

You could feel his hand inching across your back, searching for the zipper to your dress. He found it quickly, allowing the garment to fall to the floor.

Red fabric pooled at your feet like a fiery sea. The chilliness of winter air attacked your body, now only protected by mere undergarments.

His lips slipped from yours, trailing downwards to edge your jaw before descending again to place a line of kisses across your exposed collarbone. Your breathing accelerated when his mouth found a sensitive area and, based on the way he smirked into your neck, you were quite sure he noticed too.

With gentle guidance, Chrollo led the both of you towards his room, kicking open the door with minimal regard as he shrugged off his suit jacket. It was discarded as your body fell into the silk sheets of his bed.

Coat off, he positioned himself above you, fingers undoing the first few buttons of his shirt as you were left to squirm under the scrutiny of his gaze.

You had never been so naked, so vulnerable, in front of someone else. The idea of having your bare body on display sent heat to your already burning cheeks.

Instinctively, you moved to conceal yourself, but he was quicker, grabbing your hands to pin them above your head. Ebony locks fell over his eyes as he looked down at you, ever so slowly releasing his hold on your arms.

"Say the word and I'll stop. Do you understand?"

"Yes." You murmured, apprehensive about whether or not your voice would actually work, but desperate for him to continue.

He nodded, sneaking a hand behind you to release your bra with measured precision. The clasp was undone and the garment tossed away, leaving your upper half completely exposed to the man hovering over you. Insecurities immediately flooded your mind as you tentatively forced your line of sight to meet his.

Somehow, you had continuously failed to notice completely enamored Chrollo was with you. Unbeknownst to you, he had already pretty much come to the conclusion that you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, regardless of the fact that some parts of you had been left a mystery. And although patience happened to be one of his more noteworthy traits, he would also be a liar if he didn't admit this moment had frequently taunted his restraint for the past few weeks.

And damn, if the wait wasn't worth it.

He sucked in a sharp breath, steel eyes once cold and uncaring, now ablaze with desire for you.

"Fuck."

His mouth found yours again before following a route similar to the one before, descending past your jaw and toward your neck. This time, however, he continued downward to your chest. Skin still frigid, his lips were sparked fireworks with every touch.

You gasped sharply when he wrapped his mouth around your nipple, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud while his free hand found its way to your other breast, gently kneading the flesh. He pinched your nipple, pulling a whine from your throat as your thighs clenched, desperate for friction.

At some point, he backed away, continuing the assault on your neck like it was the last time he ever enjoyed human contact. You didn't notice the withdrawal, much too distracted by the feeling of his hands on your chest.

However, you definitely noticed when his touch found its way below your abdomen, pressing softly against your clit through the fabric of your underwear. Your back arched into his hold as you absentmindedly realized you had never hated any object quite as much as you did right now. Self-consciousness had completely faded away, replaced by the need of his direct contact.

Chrollo nudged the cloth to the side, a smug grin spreading across his features before he yanked it off completely.

He ran a finger across your slit, examining the wetness that followed it with pure satisfaction.

"Fuck, I've barely done anything yet."

Slowly, he inserted a finger inside, pumping at a steady pace before following with another, making sure to keep his thumb trained to your clit in a tortuously slow rotation. Pleasure coursed through your body, forcing a moan from in its wake. You quickly slapped a palm against your mouth, hoping to muffle the embarrassing sound, but his ears were too sharp.

"Uh-uh." He chided, grabbing both of your arms with his free hand. "I want to hear you."

"Good girl."

"I'm not... shit, your dog." You complained, but the soft spark of pleasure of his words were undeniable.

"You sure whine like one."

The mere sound of his voice was audible bliss. Your body had seemed to betray you, clenching around his digits at the tantalizing tone.

"Hm." He appraised. "Praise and degradation. Noted."

"I'm not-"

Your denial was quickly cut off when he inserted another finger, curling them against your core until the only sound you could emit was a low groan. "I'm sorry, I don't think I caught that. Would you mind repeating it for me?"

Anywhere else you would have been happy to call him out for feigned ignorance, but you were much too far gone in the way he was able to heighten the warmth in your core. It grew steadily with each pump of his fingers until you were ready to burst.

Soon, Chrollo had you unraveling upon his hand. Ever attentive, he continued to stroke the ever sensitive bundle of nerves, leisurely helping you down from your high as he unbuttoned his dress pants.

Your eyes immediately trained down towards his waist once he was done, inner walls clenching around nothing. The empty, hollow feeling left you even more unsatisfied than before. It was a relief to not be the only one exposed, but fuck was he gorgeous.

He quickly noticed where your line of sight had traveled, letting out a dark chuckle that only heightened your desire. "Pervert."

Brain still on sensual overdrive, the taunt did nothing but spur another flicker in your core. The embarrassment only seemed to push your need further. He seemed to notice your stare and the pleading expression across your features.

"What did I say about using your words, darling?"

"Please." You mumbled, hoping against hope that he would take pity on you.

He carefully aligned himself at your entrance, its soft, steady beat still present and yearning to be satisfied. "Anything for you."

With a slow, antagonizing pace, you waited for him to finish entering you. Slight pain followed with every inch forward, but nothing compared to ache you felt for his touch. Soon, the soreness melted into satisfaction and you found yourself unconsciously lifting your hips to his, desperate for some kind of tension.

Thankfully, he understood your wordless plea, beginning to rock his hips into yours at a steady pace that had you internally begging for more. His thumb found your clit again, rotating around the nub in slow, gentle circles. He reveled in the moans that were pulled from your lips.

The heat continued to intensify, filling your core to the brim until all the only emotion running through your brain was need.

With an increasing rhythm, he continued thrusting into you until pleasure had completely overpowered your senses, leaving you a moaning puddle of satisfaction in its wake. Every kiss to your cervix tightened the coil more and more until it was unbearable. The bliss was excruciating, bright and hot and wonderful all at the same time.

He caressed your overstimulated clit in a way that made you want to burst, and with a few final pushes, you did.

Euphoria flooded over every crevice of your body. Your walls fluttered around him as your high was met, offering a soft convulsion that allowed him his own release. Your eyelids fluttered to a close, heart on overdrive and mind still abuzz from pure ecstasy.

He slowly pulled out, careful not to jostle your form too much before gently picking you up and carrying you towards the bathroom. The difference in light made you cringe slightly, but, although spent, you were still curious.

Damn, it's nice in here.

You marveled as he set you down on the counter to start a bath.

The past hour, and probably the trials of today as well, had left you tired, the next few moments no longer memories, but foggy sensations of bliss.

His voice echoed amidst the rushing water, muttering kind praises that were extenuated by the soft tingle of his lips against your skin. The soothing warmth of the bath soon replaced them, then the soft cotton of a shirt that was much too large to be your own.

Next, the cool sheets, somehow new and folded neatly, cocooning around your body. You did remember reaching out, searching for his own figure against the bed. You also remembered the quiet laugh as he met your grasp, allowing you to easily wrap your arms around his torso. He mirrored your embrace, placing a final kiss on your temple.

In the past few weeks, you had fallen asleep in Chrollo's grasp multiple times. However, as the world faded away, you were able to coherently recognize that this way was most definitely your favorite.

#hxh #hxh x reader #hunter x hunter #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x reader #chrollo smut #hxh smut #hunter x hunter smut #chrollo lucifer x reader #hxh chrollo

[bad268]

new req idea but Kimi and reader being “she fell first but he fell harder” trope and reader is also a dancer and there can be a part where reader is practicing and one of her friends is prob in the room prob resting or smth and they catch Kimi (he went to visit her) looking at reader with a lovesick gaze like HES SO IN LOVE WITH HER BYE IM A DANCER ALSO SO

You Are The Reason (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Dancer! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (As an ex-dancer, I had fun with this <3) (Also, shoutout to @67-angelofthelordme-67 for the spam, you literally gave me the will to knock out three stories lol)

Warnings: None, but friend’s nickname is Peaches in honor of my actual best friend and no I will not elaborate :) Also, the song referenced is You Are The Reason by Calum Scott

POV: Second Person (You/your/She/her)

W.C. 1389

Summary: The Senior Solo (trademark) that changed it all.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

Dancing has always been a passion of yours. For as long as you can remember, you have been dancing. Your parents enrolled you in dance classes at age two, and you have not stopped since. You started competing at age six, and you even won national titles throughout your years. 

Despite your major success in dancing, you always tried your best to maintain relationships with your friends. Dancing was your passion, and it was incredibly time-consuming. You ended up moving to Bologna, Italy when you were about 10 years old, and you met your neighbor, Kimi, who happened to be in a similarly demanding sport.

Anytime that he was home for the weekend, you made sure that you did not have a competition. Since you chose which competitions you competed in and he could not choose his karting races, it just made sense to maintain the friendship.

Well, the friendship eventually blossomed into a relationship, and that relationship, ultimately, played a role in you leaving competitions. Kimi’s karting was ramping up rather quickly, and you were happy with where you were at in your dance career and all of the awards you won. You were more than happy to take a step back if that meant others could also succeed. You have also made the step into the professional world. You were modeling for different dancewear companies, being asked to be on Dancing With The Stars, and you had been in a few auditions where you got the role you wanted. Plus, you started mentoring the minis. Your schedule was jampacked, but it’s not like you were ready to leave the dance community entirely. You just stopped competing every weekend. You also wanted to start supporting Kimi during some weekends, and this step back allowed for that. 

This week, though, Kimi had an F2 race, or training with Mercedes, you’re not entirely sure. You were too excited because your dance company director said they were hosting a showcase, and you were chosen to have a senior solo. When your dance company director pulled you aside to tell you this, you were ecstatic. You already had the song and some of it choreographed since you hoped to at least compete one last time before you graduated out of your age category.  

You could not wait to finish it, so you pulled your friend, Peaches, in to help you choreograph the last few counts. 

“What if you did a jump or turn here? Like use the space,” Peaches chuckled as they paused the music. You two were locked up in the main studio since it was roughly the same size as the stage, and all of the other classes had ended for the day.

“For the instrumental part, I could do a giant circle and have pirouettes and chaines and run through the center at the end for the last couple of 8 counts. Like this,” You responded as she rewinded the song to the climax of the song, and let you test out the moves. You ran up to the mirror as the music slowed back down and you paused for a second, staring into your eyes. “Can I have the room? I want to try something, but I don’t know if it will work and the last thing I need is for you to hold this over my head.”

“Yeah, I’ll be in the hall. I’ll go get us waters first,” Peaches laughed, knowing immediately where you were coming from, so you got up and left you to your devices. Unbeknownst to you, not only was the entire dance company standing outside the room, looking through a couple of small windows, but Kimi was also there, watching in admiration. Peaches looked around at everyone as most of the dance company dispersed to look like they were doing something else, but Kimi stood still. He was mesmerized, so Peaches walked to stand beside him, gently bumping into him before whispering, “Is this what we’re doing? Creepily staring at your girlfriend? I’m in.”

“I am not creepily staring at her,” Kimi tsked in defense, but as the silence grew, he started thinking about it. “Okay, maybe I was, but she’s so captivating. I can see why she’s won so many times.”

“At least you’ve got eyes,” Peaches joked with a small laugh, “Anyway, I’m going to get us water. Don’t make it obvious you’re staring.”

Peaches took off down the hall to one of the storage rooms where they stored water bottles while Kimi sat in silence as he watched you move throughout the room. When it came to the part you were previously working on with Peaches, you kept going on for the last 8 counts. This was the part that you wanted to try alone because if it worked, in theory, it would look beautiful, but if it didn’t, it could look sloppy.

You ran up to the mirror before pausing, taking a couple of exaggerated breaths. You slid down to the floor and did a few slow and sharp floor tricks before getting up, and doing one of your signature moves. Then, for the last few beats, you held yourself together with one arm crossed over your chest, holding your shoulder, and the other across your stomach as you swayed as the song faded out. 

As soon as it ended, you squealed, running over to where your phone was propped up, recording the entire dance. You rewatched it and immediately knew that this was the dance you wanted to be your senior solo. You ran out of the room to show your company director, but you found Kimi standing in the hall, staring blankly into the studio with tears in his eyes. 

“Kimi? Mio amore (My love)?” You said softly as you walked up to stand beside him. “Did you like it?”

That snapped him out of his trance as he turned to you and immediately pulled you into his arms. He hid his face in your neck as a few tears slipped from his eyes as he whispered praises about the dance. When he finally pulled away, he moved his hands to your face as he gave you a passionate kiss. He pulled away but did not let you go as he leaned his forehead against yours.

“Ti amo (I love you),” he whispered as he gazed into your eyes.

“You’ve never said that to me before,” You replied in awe as you looked up at him. “I love you too, but this is the first time you said it.”

“What can I say? Seeing you in your element makes me fall harder for you,” He answered with a joking eye-roll. “You’re beautiful, inside and out, and your dance is perfect. The emotion you show when dancing is insane. How do you do that?”

“Do you want to see the dance with the music?” You offered as you pulled back, running your hands from his sides to hold his hands as you pulled him into the studio when he nodded. “Shoes off, and maybe this will help answer your questions.”

He took his shoes off as he took Peaches’s original seat by the computer, and that’s when he was able to see the song choice. You Are The Reason by Calum Scott. It was a song you referenced a lot when talking about Kimi, and he immediately knew he was the inspiration behind the dance.

“Would you mind playing it from the beginning?” You asked as you finished setting up your phone to record and got into your starting position.

You ran through the dance with more emotion than the last time, thanks to Kimi being in the room this time, and Kimi did not think he could have loved the dance any more than he previously did. Every part of the dance fit with the music, and he could not find it within himself to even blink, not wanting to miss even a millisecond of your performance. By the end, he was overwhelmed with love. He ran up behind you and held you against his chest as he looked at you through the mirror.

“If I were a competition judge, I’d say that was a perfect score,” He praised as he left a kiss on your temple before leaning against your shoulder and swaying with you.

~~~~~

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