#<- could be read that way. in fact should be
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soft-beams · 3 days ago
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vi x reader, parallel universe!vi x reader | character death (reader)
ekko paints a picture of you.
"I wanted to show you something," Ekko tells Vi before he's leading her and Powder to where he's made his masterpiece. He doesn't know how Vi will react; if she'll be overcome with joy or overwhelmed with immense sadness.
Maybe she'll get angry and storm off, too hurt by the painting to truly express how she feels. But Ekko feels like doing this is worth that risk because hopefully, in a way, it will provide Vi with some closure.
When they reach the mural, Ekko stops and watches Vi and Powder take the remaining steps forward. He takes in how Powder's face lights up before she's pursing her lips with a slight tremble. He can tell that she's trying not to cry, and Ekko wants to pull her into his embrace and tell her that it's okay to let it out.
Vi's harder to read.
She's staring up at the mural, expressionless, and Ekko worries that he may have crossed a line. Vi's silence is deafening; it shakes him to his core, and he almost steps forward to apologise when Vi asks:
"Is this...them?"
Ekko swallows and nods as he replies, "Yes." He walks up until he's by Vi's side. "I took some artistic liberation and...imagined what they would have looked like if they hadn't..." Ekko stops himself, finding the words still too hard to say.
Vi stares and stares until she's closing her eyes, letting out a trembling breath.
"They're even more beautiful than I imagined," she whispers, barely loud enough for him to hear. Powder hears it too because she's smiling, sniffling as she wipes at her eyes.
"Yeah, a real looker," she says. "They were cute when they were younger, so it's no surprise that Ekko made them a bombshell." She looks at Ekko, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Should I be worried? Did you hold a candle for our dear friend here?"
Ekko chuckles and shakes his head. He's never held feelings of that sort for you. Yes, he did think you were pretty when he was growing up, but it never escalated beyond that. Besides, everyone knew that it was Vi you were going to end up with. Because it was you and Vi and Vi and you, and it was so obvious, the love you held for each other.
Still is obvious back in his own universe, but...he wishes he could have seen you thrive here. Happy and alive with no reason to run or hide. To be at peace with the people you love and who love you.
"They were everything to me," Vi says after a moment of silence. "They were my world in a way that was different from you guys." She gives a rueful chuckle. "Barely grown up, and we were already talking about getting married. We knew we wanted to be each other's for the rest of our lives." She then sighs. "Then that damn explosion happened, and they protected me. Made sure I survived, and I still...still deal with the guilt."
The silence settles among them again, but it only lasts for a second as Vi breaks it.
"But I know they wanted me to be here for Powder," she continues softly. "And know they'd be cursing me to the ground if they knew my thoughts." Her lips curve into a gentle smile. "But at least, I can look at her now and see her a bit more vividly in my dreams." She looks at Ekko, smile still in place. "Thanks, Little Man."
Ekko nods, unable to speak due to the tightness in his throat. If only...if only he could tell Vi that there's a universe where you did survive. A universe that isn't as great as this, but you're together and manage to find happiness despite all the shit thrown at you.
If only he could tell Vi that's what you really look like. That's how you've grown and how you've transformed.
If only.
But at least he can take solace in the fact that he's graced Vi with some form of closure.
In the form of a picture of you.
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thargelalia · 3 days ago
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see you in hell, baby
jason todd x fem!reader
Dick naively expects Jason to help him stay in your good graces as the MVP brother-in-law
-> 1.4k words
-> fluff, poor attempt at humor
-> warnings: none, the dynamic duo being dorks together perhaps?
please, reblog if you like or the author will cry
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There's nothing better than to enjoy the vast collection of classics at the Wayne Manor library on a rare peaceful Sunday afternoon.
Or is it?
“Jaybird, hey!” Dick greets his younger brother, a little more excited than usual, as he saunters into the library. “Have you.. uhh, is my BFF around?” 
He’s scanning around the place like you could emerge from behind the couches or bookshelves at any given moment. Judging by his tone, Jason can already tell Dick wants something, choosing to ignore him, too immersed in his current book. 
Dick looks left and right to the hallway before closing the doors, and joining Jason on the leather couch. The latter finally acknowledged his older brother to get this over with, so he can leave and Jason can read in peace. 
“She went to the bathroom.. why?” Jason says, narrowing his eyes inquisitively at Dick’s fidgeting. A fake smile plastered on his face, sweat bidding on the temple. He’s obviously worried about something. “You’re being weirder than usual.. Got your pants stuffed with itching powder again?”
His lips twitch upwards a little at the memory. 
“No, I— please, don’t ever remind me of that day.” Dick winces, rubbing on his thigh to soothe an imaginary itch. Steph really goes all in on April Fool’s Day.
He clears his throat. “So, uh.. maybe, just maybe… I might’ve accidentally scratched that Beatles record sis-in-law lent to me last week.”
Jason exhales, contemplating whether he should ease Dick’s mind or not. While you were very careful and protective of your vinyl record collection, depending on which one that got damaged – and the extent of it – you might get a little upset, but let it go without much trouble. 
Not before an hour lecture to the culprit about taking better care of other people’s stuff, of course. 
“As long as it’s not Sergeant Pepper’s, you’ll be fine.” Jason shrugs, then chuckles to himself a little as he opens his book again. “Perhaps a kick or two to your shins.”
The silence that follows is pregnant with guilt. Jason can almost smell it in the air at the way his brother blanches next to him. 
“Fuck. Don’t tell me—”
“It was an accident!”
“Dick, you insane?! It was a gift from her grandmother!” Jason chastises, smacking the book shut with a hard thud. “You damaged an original copy from the seventies, you fucking idiot!”
Dick slides down on the couch, a pout taking over his lips. “I know!” 
“Can’t believe she let you borrow it.” Jason huffs, crossing his arms while shaking his head indignantly.
Dick has his hands on his head, about ready to rip his hair out.
“I know! What do I do now??”
“Well… for starters,” Jason begins dead serious, leaning towards Dick, who straightens his posture, desperate to hear a solution, “when was the last time you updated your last will and testament?”
“Shit.” Dick falls into the cushions, a desolated sigh leaving the depths of his soul. “Not helping, man.”
“Maybe Bruce can recycle my gravestone,” Jason continues, tapping his chin in fake thought, “what about an epitaph? Sure you’ve got some ideas.”
As always, any comment remotely related to his death has all the bats squirming or tensing like they’ve been poked by Catwoman’s sharp claws – which most of them have, in fact. They tend to feel uneasy whenever Jason makes his grim jokes. 
And perhaps that’s exactly why he does it. 
“Please, don’t talk like that,” Dick says softly, furrowing his eyebrows. Then, he changes his demeanor completely. “And yes, I do. Here lies Gotham’s hottest piece of ass. S.I.P.”
Jason gives him an unimpressed look, lifting his eyebrow. “S.I.P?”
His brother smiles as if he was dying to be asked that. “Sashay in peace.”
“Hope you make a safe passage, disco queen.” Jason deadpans. “Make sure to head straight to heaven, though. Don’t wanna put up with your glittery ass in hell, too.” 
Dick seems to suddenly remember why he was there in the first place. He grabs his younger brother by the shoulders, and shakes. “This is serious, Jaybird! What now? I’ll lose my ‘favorite brother-in-law’ privileges!”
Jason kisses his teeth in annoyance, immediately releasing himself from Dick’s grasp, and pushing on his chest with zero delicacy. “You never had those.” 
Anyone other than Dick — and Bruce — would’ve splattered themselves on the cushions at being on the receiving end of Jason’s hard shove, but his older brother only tilts back, and recovers his posture like a roly-poly toy, in an impressive display of sheer core strength.
“Yes, I did. I do. Remember her last seminar? She only had one other seat aside from yours, and she chose to invite me.” He points at himself, sounding smug. “And what about the wine she got me from her trip to France? Or the tequila from Mexico, huh?”
“The others aren’t old enough to drink.” Jason points out, groaning as he massages his temples. This conversation is getting tiresome. Baby, where are you? He thinks in exasperation. Dealing with his family outside patrol is easier when you’re right next to him.
Dick freezes, his index finger lifted in the air. 
He lowers it, closing his mouth. 
Then, he raises it again, attempting to hide his wounded pride. 
“That’s not the point! The point is—”
“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” Jason cuts him off, waving impatiently before he adds dryly, “too late for that, though. Replacement joined her Public Health research group last month. She’s invited him to dinner at our place twice now, unfortunately.”  
There’s a shocked gasp. 
“Not to mention the little demon asking her for help with his school projects, even though everyone knows he’s damn well capable of handling himself.”
An even bigger gasp leaves Dick’s lips, this time followed by a dramatic hand to his chest.
Jason rolls his eyes. “Will you fucking stop?”
“I need to amp up my game. Urgently.”
“Good luck with that. Not sure you can—”
Jason’s interrupted by the sound of the doors opening. The scowl on his face immediately dissolves into a relieved look at your return. Meanwhile, his brother appears as if he’s staring at a ghost.
You smile, tipping your head up. “Hey, Dick! What’s up?”
“Heeey, bestie!” He shoots up from the couch, sounding extremely unnatural as he glances at the watch on his wrist. “I–um.. Damn! I gotta pick up Babs at her friend’s house now. See you guys later!”
With a quick kiss to your cheek, he breezes past you and out the doors like he’s suddenly been possessed by Wally West.
“What was that?” You turn from the door to your boyfriend, giving him a puzzled look.
Jason contemplates for a brief moment whether he should tell the truth or not. More out of concern over you, as he’d hate to upset you, than over Dick’s sake obviously. But if you found out later that he knew about this fuckup, he’d join his brother’s body in the graveyard. And Jason is very much enjoying his second chance at life right now.
“Dick ruined your Sergeant Pepper’s record.” Just as predicted, he doesn’t feel the slightest bit of remorse for snitching on his older brother. Jason wishes he’d broken the news in a better way, but he let his eagerness for throwing Dick under the bus override his judgment.
Much to his surprise, you don’t show any expressive reaction aside from the slight purse of your lips. 
“You’re talking about the scratch?” You ask simply, joining him on the burgundy couch as he opens an arm to envelop you in a half embrace.
He tilts his head to rest against yours. “You’ve seen it already?”
“It was there before he got it. Probably happened during my last move out.”
“Oh. Oh.” 
“Poor Dick. I told him my grandma loved that record… He must be feeling like trash.” A sigh escapes your lips as you lean against Jason’s chest. “You should probably tell him when he comes back.”
“Baby, I’m not telling anything.” Jason laughs wickedly, taking your hand in his large one and bringing it up to his lips. The tender kiss offers a stark contrast against the disapproval in his tone. “Serves him right for not being watchful enough.”
“You’re so evil, Jace.” You tilt your head up, so he can see the playful glint in your eyes. “There’s no place for you in heaven, you know that, right?” 
Jason eyes you in disbelief. “Are you planning on telling him?” 
The pressing of your lips together is already enough to answer him – a futile attempt to conceal a mischievous smile. 
“That’s what I thought.” He pulls you to sit sideways on his thighs, arms tightening around your waist as he leans in to kiss your neck. Lips lingering there as his voice lowers in a way that makes you shiver when he says, “guess we’ll both be sharing Satan's throne as you sit on my lap in hell, baby.” 
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A/N: I wanna be Jason's boo, and Dick's bestie so bad y'all!!
Remember to reblog, and let me know your thoughts if you liked. It helps me stay motivated to post on here <33
divider is from here
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So I'm not ashamed, here, I'll out myself with this. I am absolutely, 150% guilty of staying in my little cave of isolation, refusing to make the first move to contact anyone, because of the fear of being seen as desperate. Annoying. Clingy. Insert whatever other derogatory word you can think of, here. I've always been a person that tends to go overboard with interactions, and that leads some to view me as 'too much.' But I'm also able (right now, a year ago I definitely wasn't) to recognize that this post? It is utterly, and completely true.
Sure, reaching out is terrifying. Especially for those of us who have a history of getting burned doing so, in the past. We can put our all into someone, or several someone's, and find out that they're just...not that into us at all (and this applies both romantically and platonically, in my opinion). And that rejection? Knowing our message may have been 'seen' but was not viewed as worthy of a response? Or, heaven forbid, finding out that we were actively ridiculed behind our backs for daring to have the audacity to think someone wanted to hear from us?
It hurts. It hurts, dare I say, like hell.
Here's the thing, though. Just because one, or ten, or a million people did this to us in the past does not mean that every single person we encounter for the rest of our lives will behave the same way. In fact, one could argue, it is remarkably unfair of us to assume that they will. Not everyone is out to get you, use you, or otherwise mistreat you, and I say this knowing that I was, and still am guilty of assuming so even now. Am I a hypocrite for typing this out? Probably. Does knowing this in my head make it any easier to break past years of self-inflicted barriers built out of fear of rejection? Nope. But (and feel free to call me delulu here) I hope that I'm allowed to at least read a post like this, and recognize that even if I am absolutely abysmal at putting it into practice, the OP is far from wrong.
What am I saying with all of this? Not much that hasn't already been said, I suppose, aside from the fact that we all (myself included) should be bold enough to send that text/email, make that invitation/phone call, rejection be damned. Because sure, whoever we're initiating contact with may still ignore us like countless others have, before. But they may not, too, and cutting ourselves off from a real relationship because we're just...scared? That isn't fair to anyone.
And anyone who does see these little instances of people reaching out as bothersome, annoying, laughable, or worthy of mocking in their little clique? They're going to view us in that light whether we stay in our shell or dare to break it down.
That decision, ultimately, is on them, and it's nothing we can control.
(Now it's time for me to practice what I preach, I suppose...toodles!)
i know it's hard. but i so firmly believe the strongest antidote to loneliness is reaching out first. and continuing to reach out. again and again and again. excise any scrap of shame you hold about being the person who texts first or pitches the plan or asks to get lunch. everyone is tired and busy and struggling. and afraid of feeling unwanted and unimportant. don't let the people you love feel that way. reach out first. don't be a ghost in your own life.
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On the Nice List
Captain John Price x Reader
wc: 1.5k words
warnings/tags: fluff, sprinklings of mature content but nothing explicit
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He was distracted
Or rather you were distracting him
Already feeling disconcerted, he’d gone and done something he swore he’d never do, something he didn’t want to have to do, he’d brought his work home with him
Well, his paperwork at least
He’d promised you he’d make every possible effort to be home with you on Christmas Eve, and as the 23rd rolled around and he’d glanced at the stacks upon stacks of files waiting for him atop his desk, he knew the only way he’d be making it through the front door in time was with his work tucked snugly into his bag
He knew you would have understood either way, having grown used to the ever changing schedule that the Captain lived by, but all you had asked for was for your lover to be home for the holidays, and how could he deny you such a simple request without at least trying
Now however, sat in his home office with papers scattered haphazardly across the desk along with a pounding headache threatening to form behind his tired ocean eyes, he realizes he should have known it wouldn’t be so easy to get through his work unbothered
He’s got the door more than slightly ajar, the sounds of soft Christmas music carrying throughout the house towards his quiet space, and every few minutes or so, there’s you, strolling past the crack in the door to steal glances at your husband and pretend you’re doing no such thing
It’s been nearly two hours since he had told you he’d be nearly finished, but you both knew that was a but of a generous timeframe
That’s why you had no issue skipping about the house in the meanwhile, humming carols to yourself, wrapping last minute gifts, you’d even been able to get a head start on the cookie dough mix that had to chill in the fridge overnight, secretly hoping that each time you walked past John’s office would be the time he finally pushed himself out of his chair and came to join you
As the minutes ticked by however, you decided that rather than growing impatient, you’d become creative
And so each time you strolled past his door, your pace was slower and slower, and maybe you were wearing less and less clothing, who could really know?
John chuckled to himself, knowing you were up to no good out there, but any remark he might have wanted to make was caught in his throat when you pulled out the next trick up your sleeve
In nothing more than a short silky robe, you’d plopped yourself down in the reading chair perfectly angled for your husband to see you from his office and began reading a book
Innocent enough
Apart from the fact that in your other hand, you were holding an unwrapped candy cane
The seasoned soldier nearly did a double take as he watched you not to subtly bring the candy to your over extended tongue before wrapping your plump wet lips around it, letting out a satisfied hum in the process
To his credit, John did at least try to glance back down to his paperwork a handful of times after that, but seeing you suck on the candy cane in a way that sure to knock you off the nice list, he couldn’t help but drop his pen to adjust himself through his pants
You had your eyes closed for a moment as you really tried to oversell it, lips still wrapped around the sweet treat, when your ears picked up on the creaking of John’s office chair along with the small grunt of effort he made any time he stood
Feigning innocence you opened your eyes, letting the candy slip out with a ‘plop’ as you looked up to find the Captain slowly approaching you, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes and a growing tent in his briefs
“Ye know love,” he said, not so subtly reaching to palm himself and grinning wider when he caught your eyes follow his movements. “Think ye might end up on the big man’s naughty list with this kind o’ behaviour.”
You smiled coyly up at him, reaching a leg out to poke his muscular thigh with your toes when he stepped close enough. “I have no idea what you mean, Captain.” You added the title, knowing how it stirred something deeper within him to hear it fall from your lips.
“Careful sweetheart,” he warned you, something far more than mischievous flashing through his eyes this time as she smiled down at you. “If we didn’t have company comin’ soon I’d be havin’ you show me whether you’re naughty or nice.” His large, warm hand caught your ankle and began massaging every inch of skin he could reach.
“Uh oh,” You said with a small giggle, leaning further back in your seat to allow him a better grasp on your leg, never one to turn down his affectionate touch. “Think we might have to adjust your list and ask him to get you a pair of reading glasses, my darling. Company doesn’t come until tomorrow.”
“That so?” He asked, the smirk on his face telling you everything you needed to know; he’d just gained the upper hand again. He glanced down towards his wrist watch before looking back to you with a slight raised brow. He gave you a firm pat on the thigh before reaching for your book, plucking it out of your grasp. “Might want to go put some clothes on my darling. Just in case I’m right for once.” He teased you with a wink of his eye, helping pull you up to your feet.
“Think that might be the first time you ask me to put my clothes back on, John.” You tease him back, slowly making your way towards the stairs.
“Don’t need anyone else knowing how good my wife looks. Specially my Sergeant.” He mumbled the last part, but even as you made your way up the stairs, you’d caught the end of his sentence.
“Sergeant?” You questioned, now truly confused. You didn’t have much more of a chance to question him however, when there was a prompt knock at the front door.
“Go on, love. I’ve got it.” Your husband replied before he disappeared out of sight headed to answer the door. You made your way to your shared bedroom and changed as fast as you could, curious if not slightly bewildered as to who John would have invited over on Christmas Eve Eve, of all days.
Making your way back down the stairs towards the front entry way, you could hear a familiar booming voice echoing through your home.
“Oh! Hi Kyle.” You greet the handsome Sergeant with a warm smile. Even though you’re confused as to why he’s here, you’re always happy to see him.
“Hey Mrs Price.” He responds with a wave, still standing in the open doorway.
“Why don’t you come inside? I know it’s cold out there.” You offer, going to take his coat from him, but John reaches out to you instead and wraps an arm around your waist.
“Afraid he can’t stay very long tonight, love.” John answers, his deep voice rumbling through to you where you’re pressed against him.
“Just dropped by to wish you happy holidays.” Kyle informs you with a smile on his face, which stretches further when you raise a questioning brow at him, knowing he didn’t drive all the way out here just to say hello. “Might have something in the truck for ye, as well. Give me a minute.” He says before retreating back down the front steps and towards the parked truck.
You turn to face your husband, a chuckle rising through him at the confusion painted across your expression, his other arm coming around to hold you even tighter against his chest.
“What have you roped him into now, huh?”
“Oh, you’ll see, love.”
Actually, you hear it before you see it.
A small yapping sound growing closer and closer, until the noise is too insistent to ignore, turning away from John’s hold on you to face the door again, where you spot Garrick strolling towards you with a surprise in tow.
“You didn’t-”
“Oh, but he did.” Kyle says with an all too proud smirk, letting go of the dog’s leash as he steps into your home, sure to shut the door behind him this time. You’re crouching down to your knees before you know it, coming down to eye level with the furry creature that’s just strolled into your home.
“John how did- when did- what?!” You struggle to form a logical sentence as your eyes dart from your husband, to his accomplice, back down to the ‘surprise’ you certainly had not been expecting.
“He’s a rescue.” John explains, coming down to his own knees next to you, reaching a hand out to run over the dog’s head. “He’d been gifted as a puppy a few Christmases ago. Got given up when his owners discovered they don’t stay small forever.”
You shake your head in bewilderment, looking into this little guy’s big deep eyes, your own hands coming out to lovingly pet him as well. You and John had toyed with the idea of getting a pet for a while now, but had never been able to commit to the idea, mainly because of John’s work, knowing that most of the responsibility for caring for an animal would be falling to you, something you’d promised you had no qualms about.
“Old mate o’ mine works at the pound.” Kyle goes on to add, arms crossed across his chest as he watches his Captain and his wife greet their newest family member. “Said this guy’s been waitin’ on a home for a while now.”
“I thought we could give him one, love. A home.” John whispers to you, your eyes meeting in a hushed, intimate moment, both your hands still running across the dog’s fur, an unspoken conversation happening between the two of you. Your eyes are starting to well with tears, and John’s own eyes are as soft as you’ve seen them in a long time, any ideas of paperwork left far behind.
You offer John an enthusiastic nod, worried that your voice will betray the emotions seeping through you should you try to answer him otherwise. You can’t help the overjoyed laugh that erupts from you though, when the dog starts licking at your fingers, picking up on the emotions in the room.
“Well what do we name you, huh?” You ask, leaning into John’s side when he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to press a kiss to your hairline.
“I mean, I’m quite fond of Gaz, if I get to have any say in this.”
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Certainly not my best work but really wanted to write something for Price and a little something for the upcoming holidays
Almost officially on holiday break! I work the 23rd and 24th, but then I’m off until the New Year so there should be more consistent uploads coming soon!!! Really hoping to wrap up the ‘Wife at First Sight’ series and post part 3 of ‘A Stranger is a Friend You Haven’t Met Yet’
Thanks for the read as always
- M 🫶🏻
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sillymommy6969 · 1 day ago
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—𝕾UBTLE & SECRET PT. 2
Daniela Avanzini x fem!reader
summary: some more moments eyekons have found of their favourite ship. it’s getting harder and harder for dann/n to be subtle and secret…
warnings: none, more fluffy moments
part i
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DANI & Y/N FORGETTING THEIR PR TRAINING FOR 14 MINUTES GAY (PART 2)
*Loud technical difficulty transition* Cut to the one year anniversary live, the video titled, “Happy First KATSEYE Day”. Daniela and Y/N were sitting where Sophia and Lara were in that video. As Manon tried to explain her answer to a question Yoonchae asked, the camera seemed much more interested in a certain duo than their centre.
“No, because I know for a fact Lara takes the longest to get ready. Girlie has a hair and fit routine that takes so much longer than an hour,” Manon practically yelled, “No—Sophia, stop! Trust, Lara is the one who takes the longest.”
As they bickered back and forth about who was right, the video zoomed in on Daniela and Y/N. The Latina, in a sheer top and her hair pulled back a bit was sitting with her leg crossed, body leaning towards Y/N, who had a hand caressing the fishnets Daniela was wearing. The older Katseye member didn’t seem to realize they were sitting that close together, her head resting on Daniela’s shoulder.
The video editor cuts to Megan beside Manon, second to last on the couch, making note of the way the redhead eyed the two of them with a dramatic grimace.
[ Megan’s sick of their PDA I know it ]
“This question is about Dani,” Yoonchae read off her card. Manon and Sophia perked up in their seats, ready to dominate the game once again as their youngest made her way through the words on her list. “Which rnb artist has Dani been listening to on repeat lately?”
Manon and Sophia yell their own names, jumping out their seats in attempts to get Yoonchae to call on them first.
Y/N raised a finger, nodding and winking into the camera before sharing a look with Daniela, who was pouting because the older lifted her head off her shoulder. Yoonchae glanced past the two eldest members of the group, seeing a reserved Y/N sitting patiently in her seat. Her name was called.
“Y/N hasn’t spoken yet, Y/N should answer!” Yoonchae said.
[ Yoonchae defender till I die ]
The latter smiled at their maknae, sitting up as she glanced down at Daniela. “I know every single artist Dani has put on loop recently, but I’ll just give ya’ll the top three. It goes Brent Faiyaz, Feid, and then Daniel Caesar.”
Daniela nodded, beaming with pride as she clapped. “Daniel’s tied with Rosalía, but yeah, that sounds right.”
Both of them turned to Yoonchae for confirmation, and after a second of the Korean reading and processing the answer on her card, she nodded with an adorable smile. “Y/N’s right.”
Daniela moved her arm to rest over the top of the couch, sliding it behind Y/N. Y/N’s hand still running smoothly along her thigh. It wasn’t until they had moved onto the next section of their live when Daniela was snacking on some of the treats sitting before them did they switch their position up a bit.
Y/N was still engaged in the game they were currently playing, doing her best to keep Manon’s cursing to a minimum as she helped Lara answer some questions.
Daniela grabbed a couple pieces of candy covered in powdered sugar. She had two in her mouth, the candies poking out against her inner cheek as powdered sugar smeared across her lips.
Y/N turned to see what Daniela was fidgeting about, noticing the girl was entranced by the candy in her hands.
She laughed, pointing at the blonde’s lips before she wiped the powdered sugar off with her thumb. Y/N pressed her finger up against her own lips, sucking the sugar from her hand before licking her lips. Daniela was caught off guard by the woman’s action, dropping a piece of the candy in her hand down into her lap. Both of them looked down, but before the arm Daniela had over Y/N’s shoulder could move, the older grabbed it and put it in her mouth. She easily dusted the younger’s lap, giggling at the way Daniela covered her face with a hand as her cheeks flushed a faint shade of red.
[ Y/N’s that type gf I’m dizzy… ]
*Loud technical difficulty transition* Cut to the move-in video, where the girls were sharing a deep moment of their thoughts and feelings on achieving their dreams. Y/N began tearing up because of Sophia’s speech, tears brimming her eyes and she was sniffling just the slightest.
Y/N was getting increasingly emotional over their leader’s heartfelt monologue on how grateful she was for their little family. Daniela noticed the older getting overwhelmed, so she switched places with Megan to give the woman a hug. Her body shielded Y/N from the cameras in the front as the video cuts to a side camera, where we see Y/N’s hands fixing her face, which was still kept from lenses by Daniela.
The blonde glanced down at Y/N, brushing her hair out of her face as the older wiped the smudged mascara away from her eyes. Daniela hushed quietly, careful not to scratch the woman on accident with her press-ons.
Daniela wrapped her arms around her friend, pressing a quick peck onto the top of her head. Her hands ran up and down Y/N’s back as the other members soothed Sophia, it was truly a moment Dann/n stood out and away from the other bonds in their group. Then, Y/N’s hands could be seen resting on Dani’s hips as she calmed down. When the older was ready, Daniela moved away, taking a seat beside her, still unwilling to leave the woman alone.
[ Dani’s def Y/N’s comfort person ]
*Loud technical difficulty transition* Cut to a clip of the girls in the rehearsal room. Manon was challenging Lara to some dance off as they moved around frantically in the foreground of the video, but if you squinted and looked closer, you could catch something in the background.
As Megan taught Yoonchae and Sophia a specific part of the choreography, and Lara and Manon twerking their way towards the mirror. Y/N was enjoying a cool sip of water in the background. Matching with Lara, she was dressed in just a black bra and grey sweats that flashed the band of the boxers she was wearing. Her chest glistened with sweat, hair messy and disheveled as she scrolled through her phone.
Daniela eyed Y/N out the corner of her eye, feeling her head tune out Manon’s screechy voice. She watched Y/N’s chest heave as she caught her breath, running a hand through her own curls before standing from her cross-legged position on the floor. She jogged over to the older, reading the schedule Y/N had pulled up on her phone over her shoulder.
“Hey, stranger,” Daniela whispered, unable to earn a jump from Y/N as the older turned.
Her eyes widened and her expression brightened. She set down her bottle of water and slipped her phone back into her pocket. “Dani, I just found out about this perfect little nook around the block. There’s a shitload of books and they have a record section with this dainty little café, it’s perfect. I’ve been meaning to check out.”
Daniela chuckled, tucking her hair behind her ear, “Yeah?”
Y/N nodded, her hands resting on her hips. She glanced over at their members making the most of their five minute break. “Yeah, I was just checking the schedule to see when we’d have time to go. I think Yoonchae would really enjoy a nice quiet afternoon out of work and Sophia could use a nice croissant.”
Daniela was just disappointed just the slightest bit. She was hoping Y/N was implying they would leave together, but being the mother type she was, she couldn’t say she was surprised to hear Y/N meant to bring the girls too.
“Sounds perfect,” Daniela said softly, raising a hand to caress Y/N’s shoulder. “Hey, do y’know how to do the hip move?”
In the zoomed out camera shot focused on Manon and Lara, fans could tell Daniela was trying to learn a particular move in their choreography from Y/N. The older’s exposed torso flexed and glistened under the practice room’s fluorescent lights, as the younger ushered for Y/N to help her with the move closer.
[ Really? The main dancer—AKA Mini Shakira—of Katseye asking for help on a dance move? Dani’s not slick ]
*Loud technical difficulty transition* Cut to a clip of Manon on live at home with Y/N again, the roommates were having fun and engaging with fans before their door creaked open.
“Yeah, Y/N loves wearing these mini skirts. We have a matching pair of jean skirts with this buckle around the waist, it’s so cute.” Manon ranted, doing her mascara in the mirror behind the phone. “‘Who’s the stylist of the group?’, it’s most definitely Lara or Y/N. They pull off their styles so well.”
As Y/N was about to answer, the door to their room creaked open. Both their heads turned to eye Daniela, who sauntered into the room in a hoodie.
She approached Y/N, a leg thrusted over her hips before taking a seat on the older’s lap. Y/N cooed, wrapping her arms around Daniela’s waist as the younger hooked hers around the older’s neck. Manon shared a look with Y/N, before turning the camera just the slightest so the pair wouldn’t be in the centre of the screen. You could still see part of Y/N’s face, along with the two members’ bodies being glued together.
[ WHAT. THE. ACTUAL. F*CK. ]
“You okay, Dani?” Y/N asked softly, feeling the blonde nuzzle her nose into the crook of her neck further. “What’s up?”
Daniela just groaned, her grip around Y/N tightening, eyes squeezed shut. She felt the older’s chest vibrate as she hummed. The blonde was so engrossed in having her moment with her band mate, she hadn’t even noticed the camera still streaming their moment to everybody.
“Dani, we’re on live right now. Wanna go to your room?”
Manon cackled at the loud shriek Daniela let out, jumping off Y/N’s lap. The latter just laughed along with Manon at the Latina’s reaction, making sure she hadn’t hit her head when she fell down onto the floor.
“Oh my God, somebody said Dani might as well be Y/N’s shadow ‘cuz she never leaves her side.” Manon burst into absolute hysteria at the comment, leaning back to lie on the floor as she laughed. Y/N chuckled, leaning in to read the comments as well. Daniela was laid still on the floor offscreen, her head in her hands.
user01 move dani it’s my turn
user02 Dk which one of them I want to be rn
user03 ngl sitting in y/n’s lap would fix everything
user04 Dani forgot PR training for a sec
user05 I AM NOT NORMAL ABOUT THIS
“You guys are too much,” Y/N snickered as she skimmed the comments, “‘Y/N’s middle name must be wifi, the way Dani can’t live without her.’ is crazy, guys.”
Daniela finally mustered the courage to peel herself from the floor. Coming onscreen, she was blushing and sat between the two roommates as the comments flood with more teasing phrases about Daniela’s action.
user06 dani’s not even tryna hide it
user07 WHERE ARE MY DANN/N TRUTHERS
user08 Their PR team quaking rn
“Guys, I just needed a hug, okay? I would’ve done that to Manon if she was the one sitting closer to the door,” Daniela tried saving herself, her hands raising to touch her cheeks. They were hot to the touch, burning bright with shyness.
Manon raised an eyebrow, throwing the blonde a ‘really’ expression. “Y’know your big ass—big Pinocchio looking head is lying right now. You once said you would rather lick a public bathroom floor than be seen hugging me.”
“I never said that!” Daniela squeaked, “Manon, stop!”
Y/N rolled her eyes with a smile, leaning in to read the fans’ thoughts as the two argued in the back.
*Loud technical difficulty transition* Cut to a clip of Y/N talking on a solo live, the shot was zoomed in on a handful of necklaces around her neck.
As Y/N ranged on about producing some songs with Lara on their day off, the video editor zoomed in on the necklaces around Y/N’s neck. There were a couple thin chains and then some with charms, but one stood out with a big letter D.
[ Unless Y/N has a partner with the name D outside the group, this is a little sus ]
In another part of that live, there was a light blue friendship bracelet around her wrist. And the fans seemed to point out the familiar looking accessory from a Yoonchae and Daniela live a couple days ago.
“‘Y/N, are you matching bracelets with Dani?’ Oh, this old thing?” Y/N laughed, fondling with it around her wrist. “Dani’s mom got us a make your own bracelet kit when Katseye first moved in together as a housewarming gift. When Dani got sick one weekend and the others were home for the holidays, we watched movies and made bracelets. She made me this blue one and I made her a pink one. I don’t know if she still wears hers, but I don’t really take mine off.”
user01 Oh she def does not
user02 no n/n we saw it the other day!!
user03 It’s the only thing Dani wears on her left arm
user04 COUPLE BRACELETS! COUPLE BRACELETS!
“Oh, is it? Yeah, Dani and I spent that break together. My parents were away on vacation and hers had to reschedule ‘cuz of some stomach bug passing around the family.” Y/N thought back on that Thanksgiving, it was very fun being alone in the big Katseye dorm without the usual chaos. “Anyway. The Katz all have this necklace we got from Kate Spade. It’s this one.”
She picked the necklace out from her other ones, briefly flashing the ‘D’ necklace too.
user05 the d necklace is crazy
user06 Dani’s really staking her claim
user07 I HAVE NO ONE TO TALK TO ABT THIS
The screen suddenly flashes with screenshots from instagram pictures Daniela posted. Under her zip-up, you can see Y/N’s initial on a similar necklace.
[ And thus, Dann/n remains alive and healthy ]
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bisexualiteaa · 20 hours ago
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Omg! You should totally do one where he’s sexually frustrated. And the reader (female), teases him until he breaks! And when he does they get down to business BIG time if you know what i mean lol. But even when they do start to fuck the reader doesn’t listen to all his demands, making it more spicy once silco finally gets the reader exactly how he wants her.
On edge
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AN: Thank you so much for this request!! I loved the idea so much and literally had so much fun writing this! Apologies that it took a few days, I again just wanted to make sure it was good and to what you asked! ♥️ I hope you enjoy and that I’ve done your ask justice! 🥺🫶
CW: no use of y/n, reader has hair, reader is AFAB, female anatomy, MDNI, cursing, teasing, heavy brät/brät tämer themes, Silco is t0uch deprived, r0ugh seggs, unprotected seggs, bïting, cream 🥧, slight dëgradation, p0rn w/o plot, äftercare, possible spelling/grammar errors
Also I’m not sure why, but as I was writing I was listening to this song and I just feel like it fits SO well! So listen along while you read if you’d like!
His forehead head sat in his hand as you entered his office, elbow leaned against the desk as his other hand held a glass, amber liquid and two ice cubes swirling around inside the ornate rocks glass. Whiskey, he only drank on the rougher days anymore, and judging by the cigar that sat in the ash tray on his desk, smoke emanating from it, told you he was having a day. You on the other hand, were in a different sort of mood, a bubbly, perhaps more mischievous mood. You weren’t quite sure what brought it about, whether it was your confidence just hitting a new high today, or what but you could tell from the sassy sway to your hips as you shut the door carefully behind you. Something you didn’t realize had in fact been noticed by him, he was just doing a very good job at hiding it.
“Rough day?” You asked innocently, sauntering over to his side as you stood beside him. The scent of your perfume filled his nose the moment you moved closer, leaving him to inhale its intoxicating scent. Sometimes he wondered if you mixed a sort of drug into it with the way he craved its familiarity, wishing to smell it on his sheets, his jacket. When he did, it drove him wild, the transfer of it from just a simple hug was enough to leave him clutching the large jacket and taking a whiff on occasion when no one was looking or when he was alone in his office. Each time he did, he could feel his cock twitch with excitement as his mind would then drift to you. Sinful thoughts filling his mind of how good you would look splayed against his sheets beneath him, or how you would look bent over his desk as he ravaged you. Shimmer had nowhere near the effects that you had on him, it was almost impressive as much as it was sad. How long had it been that the simple scent of your perfume could cause him to go mad? Or for your fleeting touches to leave him with such carnal need? He couldn’t remember, but you made him feel young again in that sense.
“Quite” he replied plainly, placing the glass down on the desk, trading it for his cigar that had already been halfway smoked. You watched as he took a long drag of it before leaning back and releasing the smoke in an exhale upwards, ensuring he wouldn’t breathe it into your face. You loved the scent of his cigars, something about the tobacco mixed with smoke and his own personal scent left you enjoying being around him as he smoked more than you probably should have. There was something just so alluring about it. “Every time I turn around it feels as if something has fallen apart and is in need of my attention” he finally explained, leaving you to look upon him sympathetically. The lines of stress etched into his forehead and brow spoke truth of this, the bags beginning to accumulate beneath his eyes only further evidence to his unrest. Your hand came to rest against his thigh, rubbing soothing circles along his skin. Something you’d done in the hopes it would help him calm down a little, but you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t have ulterior motives behind it.
You felt his body tense for a moment from the soft touch, looking down at your hand that rested against his mid thigh. It was so close, so close yet so far. He wondered how it would look in your small, dainty hands, how good it would feel. He turned his head and shifted a little to try and erase the thought from his mind, but even as you removed your hand, its heat lingered on the spot like a painful reminder. “Zaun looks to their leader for guidance and aid, but even a leader deserves rest” you said, smoothing your hands along his jacket, flattening any wrinkles that formed from his previously hunched over position. You were bent over as you did, the shirt you were wearing giving him direct sight to your cleavage as your perfume continued to intoxicate him. Did you have any idea the things you were doing to him? Surely you had to, you couldn’t be so oblivious to your effect on him, could you? He was ashamed of the hold you had on him, how weak you made him from just a simple touch. He tried his best to hide it, and hide it well, but as you stood here before him he knew today may very well be the day he reaches his breaking point. “I’m granted no rest when someone walks through my door just about every hour” he replied, making you hum as you stood back up, watching his eyes trail you as you walked back over to the door. He felt himself release a breath he had no idea he’d been holding in as you put a slight distance between you. “Then lock it” you said with a cute little grin, the bolt turning in the door with an audible click before you turned back around, watching him clutch the cigar between his fingers with a fierce grip. His eyes bored into you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine, no one has ever looked at you like that, with such fire in their eyes, with such desire. It made your stomach twist in knots. “No one can bother you if they can’t get in” you finished before returning to his side, this time watching as you boldly sat on an empty corner of his desk.
You couldn’t quite read the look on his face as you did, but you had noticed the way his eyes would flit up and down your body when he thought you weren’t looking. He took in the way your pencil skirt seemed to raise past your mid thigh as you sat down, giving him a flash of your panties from beneath it when you would go to cross your legs, leaving him incredibly hard beneath his pants. You were toying with him, you had to be. There was no way you were doing this all unknowing of the effects you had on him. Pathetically, he was falling for it, and he hated that he was. He caught the glimpse of a grin resting on your sweet, plump lips as your downcast gaze trailed him up and down, waiting for a response. You were teasing him on purpose. “You play with fire” he stated, making you giggle. “I know, I can’t help myself. I like the possibilities of being burnt” you answered confidently, your foot dragging up and down his calf affectionately. Janna almighty you’ll be the death of him, but if that were to be the case, what a hell of a way to go.
You watched him as he stood before you, hands planting on either side of your thighs as his face hovered close to yours. “You think you’re so clever? Waltzing in here with that short little skirt, teasing me and think I wouldn’t notice?” He asked, making you hum as your grin only stretched wider. “Seemed to be working just fine, was it not?” You asked in reply, feeling as his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them apart to allow him a place to stand between before pulling you to the edge of his desk where your hips met his. “You tell me, what do you think?” he replied, leaving you to gasp softly as you felt him pulse and twitch against your heat. “I think I have you wrapped around my little finger” you boldly claimed, your fingers walking up along his jacket before your arms looped around his neck, pulling yourself even closer to him but never fully closing the distance. “You think so?” He asked in response, making you giggle. That same smug grin rested on your lips as electricity thrummed between you, your faces mere centimeters apart, waiting to see if he would cave in. Your gaze flit to his lips with heavy lids, enjoying the mental turmoil you were putting him through as he fought caving in immediately. “You want me so bad? Come get me” you whispered, your breath ghosting across his lips as they hovered so very close to his own. He needed you in ways he couldn’t even begin to try and explain.
So he caved.
You felt his hand come to rest on the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you even closer, finally closing the distance between you as his lips captured yours. The kiss was fiery, passionate and messy, a gravely groan leaving him into it. You could feel the rumble in his chest from it, paired with the way his lips danced against your own told you how long he’d been wanting this, how much he’d been needing this. Needing you. You couldn’t help the smile that stretched to your lips into it, thinking of all the ways that you could push his limits. Your hand smoothed down his chest, toying with his tie as his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, an effort to push the kiss further into something more intimate. You giggled as you denied him, earning an impatient groan in response as his free hand groped your ass roughly, making you moan. The moment you did, he took his chance, his tongue exploring you as it tangled with your own in a messy clash of teeth, tongue and lips. It had you dizzy.
When he pulled back he looked you over, not caring this time if you laid witness to it or not. He took the moment to take in how your chest heaved with each labored breath, how your cheeks were flushed, lips shining with swapped saliva. “Gonna keep staring at me? Or you gonna do something about that problem of yours?” You asked with a cocky grin, making him chuckle darkly. “Oh it will be fixed, but it won’t be me fixing it” he said, yanking on your hair to pull your head back, earning a pathetic whine from you as it made you look up at him, finding yourself unable to bite back in this position. “You caused it, you fix it” he ordered, making you moan as he rolled his hips against your own, brushing his painfully hard cock against your panty clad cunt, allotting you some much needed friction and stimulation. All you could do was look up at him, excitement and anticipation filling your gaze leaving him to chuckle. “No witty come back to that? I give you the smallest taste of how good I can make you feel and you give up just like that, hmm?” He asked smuggly, making your face grow hot with defeat before he let up on his grip in your hair. “Strip” he commanded, making you stand up and work at untucking your shirt before unbuttoning it slowly. He watched as every button came undone, more of your gorgeous body was revealed to him, his eyes raking over your curves. The fabric soon dropped to the floor haphazardly next to his desk, to be forgotten about until later when it would be needed again. Next was your bra. His eyes were trained on you as he watched you unhook the backing, allowing it to slide down your arms and join your shirt in a growing pile. Your nipples had hardened from the temperature change, the exposure to the air and from the excitement coursing through you in anticipation of what was to come next. Then came your skirt, its simple button and zipper being undone allowing it to drop to the floor and pool around your feet with ease, earning a groan from him at the sight of you nearly naked before him. You hooked your thumbs into the sides of your panties, working them down from your hips before they fell to your ankles, leaving you to kick them off to the side with rest of the pile. You watched with much intrigue and entertainment as he seemed to twitch with anticipation and need for you, making you giggle.
“How long has it been?” You asked curiously, a cocky grin on your lips and confidence in your tone as you looked at him, looping your arms around his neck. There it was again, your perfume, overwhelming his senses. “I beg your pardon?” He asked, brows furrowed and sending a rather defensive look your way. “How long has it been?” You asked again, watching as he looked you up and down. “Since?” He asked in reply, not seeming to understand what you were hinting at, or maybe he preferred you just spit it out. “Since you had sex. Can tell by the tension in your shoulders and the way you practically moan with every touch that it’s been a while” you pointed out playfully, making him a little angry that you managed to get beneath his surface and figure him out so well. “You best be careful of that mouth of yours. My kindness, even with you, has its limits” he responded, making you hum. “Then go ahead, be mean. I’m a big girl, I can take it” you challenged making him walk closer to you, inching you towards the edge of his desk. “You want me to be mean, do you?” He asked, the rasp of his voice lowering to a much deeper tone, a crooked smile resting on his lips. He couldn’t lie, the slight tinge of fear resting in your eyes when you felt your back hit his desk, telling you there was nowhere left to go, awakened something dark within him. Something carnal, animalistic. You looked like nothing more than helpless, vulnerable prey, and he was about to eat you alive. You couldn’t deny the predatory look in his eyes certainly worked wonders on you in return. “Don’t look so concerned…” he started, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek gently before leaning in close, leaving his lips just millimeters from yours.
“I’m about to make your day” he finished, his words mixed with the feel of his breath ghosting your lips so closely send a shiver through you in excitement.
It wasn’t long before his pants were around his ankles, thrusting his cock balls deep into your soaked cunt. Your shared panting and moans, paired with the creaking and screeching of the poor desk beneath you that had been slowly inching its way across the floor with each thrust, filled the room. Should anyone walk past his office, there would be no mistaking what was happening just behind the door. Though you supposed your moans could have likely alerted all of Zaun at this rate, with your first orgasm of the night already past you, it’d be a miracle if no one could hear you. Your head was tilted back as he drilled into you, gripping your hips with a bruising pressure as your arms looped around his neck for leverage. You watched as he looked down to the space where your bodies were connected, watching his length disappeared inside of you with ease. He couldn’t help but to notice the little white ring that rested at the base of his length from your previous orgasm as the sound of his hips smacking roughly against your ass filled the room. “Fuck! Oh gods, yes!” You moaned, making him grin. “How long has it been?” He asked, looking to you, waiting for a response from you but your pleasure-idled mind was so foggy you could hardly understand what he was asking you. “Since? Oh fuck! Right there!!” You replied the best you could, tilting your head back again, leaving your tits just inches from his face as your back arched upwards towards him. “Since someone fucked you right. Since someone made you feel this good” he finished, making you whine as his hand grabbed your jaw, squishing your cheeks as he forced you to look back up at him. The cute pout that rested on your face, occasionally morphing into ones of pleasure each time his tip bullied your cervix, had him rutting into you harder. “Never! Not ‘til you- oh!” You managed, making him chuckle as he relinquished you from his grip. “Pathetic. You put up all that fuss, do all that teasing and yet I still manage to get you right where I want you” he said through grunts of pleasure, his neatly slicked back hair slightly falling against his forehead that had a thin sheen of sweat. “Feels so good! Oh gods, Silco!” You moan pathetically, knowing he was exactly right but you didn’t care. You’d spend every night here like this with him if he made you feel this good every time.
You felt as that familiar sensation in your lower belly began to take root again as his lips captured your own in a messy but passionate kiss, your moans raising in pitch and growing closer together a clear sign that you were close. As if on que, his fingers traveled between your bodies, coming to rub your clit to give you that added bit of friction you so desperately needed. You gasped before moving your hips against his and his fingers, meeting his merciless thrusts and fucking yourself on his fingers. “You’re right where you belong. Beneath me like this, cumming on my cock as I please you like no one else ever will” he said, rubbing your clit faster to make up for the way his thrusts were beginning to lose rhythm. You were so close to finally falling over the precipice, your body feeling as if it were catching on fire as your every nerve ending lit up. His words were what sent you there. “You’re mine” he growled, biting into your shoulder as you came together, his bite sending you toppling over the edge into pure bliss, while your walls squeezed him tight, milking him of everything he’d been holding in for far too long. Your body twitched and spasmed with the intensity of your second orgasm of the night, a pleased hum leaving you as you felt him cum inside of you, throbbing repeatedly as he emptied everything into you.
You both sat there for a moment, basking in the afterglow of your orgasms together, fighting to catch your breath. You watched him smooth his hair back with his hand, doing his best to get it out of his face and back to how it was originally styled, or at least the closest he could get it. You smiled as he kissed you softly, leaving you to cup his dance gently in your hands. “Are you alright?” He asked into it, checking to make sure he hadn’t overdone it and hurt you. You gave a hum then a giggle. “I feel wonderful” you said with a bubbly grin, making him chuckle as he continued to kiss you, not wishing to leave your arms or the taste of your sweet lips just yet. “Good, as do I” he replied, making you grin even wider. “Fuck yes you do” you said, playfully yet truthfully, making you both laugh. “Oh is that so? Have I ruined anyone else for you?” He asked, the hint of possessiveness in his tone as his lips traced down your neck. “You might have. Not that I care to find out, you said it yourself; this is exactly where I belong, and it’s exactly where I intend to stay” you said, your head tilted a little to grant him better access to your sensitive skin. You heard him groan next to your ear as his lips lingered upon all your most sensitive spots.
What caught you by absolute surprise was the sensation of him throbbing within you, twitching to life again from inside of you. You gave a gasp with both intrigue and excitement as he looked to you with a grin. Apparently your words had let the monster out, because stay there you would for nearly the rest of the night, getting lost in one another without a care for how sore you’d be tomorrow. It was well worth it when you were with him.
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lo1k-diamonds · 4 hours ago
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Every hour, every minute, every second, he’s in love with you.
As soon as I read the summary, not only did I think it was a clever idea for a series and someone had to do it, but I also knew I'd end up feeling very personally about it.
Cards on the table: I have a 5-year gap with my partner, with me being the oldest, so as soon as this story started, I instantly was like, "Oh shit, it's going there." Now, truth be told, this story made me realize even more that I'm surrounded by amazing people who don't pressure me in any way and have let me live my life at my own pace, but I'm aware of these types of narratives going around, so I'm happy to see them discussed in a fic.
Two people being together should be just about them, but others will naturally and inadvertently interfere. I don't think OC and JK are necessarily surrounded by bad people (even SoHee 🤷‍♀️). I will say, however, that the people around us matter a lot. Other problems in life are bad enough without the most important people to us making us feel inadequate just because we're not letting our life play out as they envision it should be.
This being said, JK and OC go through a nice arc. At least they're not burying their heads in the sand and will go forward together by the end. I wish I could say that OC had a bigger growth, but I honestly feel like JK did. In reading a second time, I wasn't as focused on her emotions, and I understood him sooo much better. For him, it wasn't even about the age; it was about the lack of certainty and vulnerability. He might be a bit careless, but he doesn't actually care about anyone's age - he mimics what others tell him, including OC. And then he says this:
“I’m sorry, Princess,”
And the next day, this:
"I would not lose myself in you just last night to turn around and date someone else less than 24 hours later."
And then I got it. I was at a loss, same as OC, as to why he had apologized, but then I got it. That moment was not him apologizing for using her or for not wanting a relationship or IDK what else. That was him apologizing for loving her, making love to her, and not wanting to go through the heartbreak of losing her. He just had to figure out when - in the present, thus letting fear win, or later, after a well-lived life beside the love of his life. He didn't just confront his fears by the end; he chose a way to live, and I was very touched by it.
Meanwhile, OC is stuck in other's perceptions of her, and while playing strong, lets it destabilize her to the point that everything crumbles. The thing is that the story ends with an admission of feelings and vulnerability, but the real issue (her insecurity about other's perceptions of her life/age and may I add the fact that she doesn't exactly know what she wants to do next) was left unresolved, so... they have some stuff to figure out... but there's always another week... and another.
Seven Days Masterlist | JJK | complete
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🗓️ pairing: nurse!jungkook x teacher!reader 🗓️ au/genre: non-idol au, brother's friend au, fwb, age-gap(reader is older), f2l, fluff, angst, smut 🗓️ series rating: M 🗓️ total wc: 34,413 🗓️ series warnings: emotionally constipated pairing, reader is older, adult worries, growing older, dating younger, time passing and not hitting milestones everyone else is, biological clock ticking woes, angsty argument, feeling like being emotionally cheated on despite being single, parents with toxic viewpoints, judgemental people, self doubt, explicit sexual content: each chapter will provide specifics, but in general, there will be sex in every part, each one showcasing jungkook and reader in various types of sexual situations including sleepy sex, oral sex (m & f receiving), light bondage sex, quickie sex with one partner not breaking off another night, drunk sex (dubious consent but neither feels taken advantage of), make up sex, and semi-public sex.    🗓️ an: please, please, please, blame @colormepurplex2 for this. It was not something I planned to do, but she talked me into it (she did not have to try hard, let’s be honest) and she is 100% right. This story needed to be told. Leah also helped me create the banners, so if you like them, it’s because of her creative input!  @downbad4yoongi also deserves blame now, but in the best way, for helping to expand the characters depth, and @heathfritillary-blog for her writing knowledge helping me find the motivators and reasons for the characters, challenging me to be a better writer. @mrsparkjimin18, @peachiilovesot7, and @abitjess, thank you for all that you do, hyping me up and helping me to piece together this story! 🗓️ an 2: reader being a teacher plays no real role in the story other than to help link the characters, it is summer break, so school is not in session! 🗓️ series summary: “Leave you with that afterglow, show you what devotion is, deeper than the ocean is…” Jungkook has been your best friend since you met him when he was still in college thanks to your younger brother, Yoongi. Despite your age gap, he easily fell into your world, your life, and your bed. Forced to confront the growing feelings as the pressure to meet adult milestones like your friends grow stronger, you struggle to be honest with yourself. “What you waiting for, better come and hit ya goals.”
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Monday - wind it back, i’ll take it slow
wc: 1,741 summary: “Wind it back, I’ll take it slow, Leave you with that afterglow…” Jungkook has been your best friend since you met him when he was still in college thanks to your brother, Yoongi. Despite your age gap, he easily fell into your world, your life, and your bed… 
posted: Monday 7-24-23 @ 9 am
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Tuesday - “lemme swallow your pride”
wc: 3,629 summary: “Open up say ahhh, Come here, baby, let me swallow your pride…” Jungkook comes over for an impromptu movie night that triggers some internal angst. You share a little, and he shares a lot... and your angst turns a little green. To change the topic when it gets a little too deep, you deepthroat him.
posted: Tuesday 8-1-2023 @ 12 am
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Wednesday - “it’s the way that you can ride”
wc: 4,622 summary: “It’s the way that you can ride, it’s the way that you can ride…” Picking an outfit for a wedding is hard enough without your friends with benefits turning you on. Especially when he makes a tie look so sexy, you can’t help but use it to get him right where you need him to be. Ties make great reigns, and Jungkook is willing for you to be the leading lady, in more ways than one.
posted: Wednesday 8-2-2023 @ 12 am
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Thursday - “so break me off another night”
wc: 3,596 + text messages summary: “So break me off another night” might be what he says, but after a day full of meddling parents, a quickie, and meddling friends, some things come to light, and there might not be another night for you to break him off...
posted: Thirstday 8-10-2023 @ 12 am
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Friday - “i must be favored to know ya”
wc: 5,665 + text messages summary: “I must be favored to know ya.” Having Jungkook in your life is so much sweeter than you ever thought. It would be great if you could just tell him, but showing him is as good as it gets for now…until you slip up and let the cat out of the bag. But it turns out, you aren’t the only one who has feelings for him, and you definitely aren’t the only one who wants to ride him. When your biggest fears come to light, knowing Jungkook the way that you do might become a thing of the past. 
posted: Friday 8-18-2023 @ 12 pm
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Saturday - “i kiss your waist and ease your mind”
wc: 6,323 + text message summary: “i kiss your waist and ease your mind.” The only thing that could make you feel better is the same thing that made you feel worse. You and Jungkook are both confused with your emotions, but two different stories help you both see a bit more clearly. The only problem is that when the two of you get around each other, clarity goes bye-bye. don’t let these soft lyrics fool you; make up sex doesn’t actually solve any issues if sex is the only communication that happens.  
posted: Monday 9-4-2023 @ 10:57 am
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Sunday - “i'll be loving you right, seven days a week”
wc: 8,837 + text message summary: “i’ll be loving you right, seven days a week.” Yoongi's wedding has brought up a lot of feelings, but with so many things left unsaid, it's hard to know where you and Jungkook stand. Can the two of you wrap around each other and bring life to a relationship?
posted: Sunday 10-8-2023 @ 10:01 pm
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↣ all rights reserved © hisunshiine 2023. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.
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sturnlsstuff · 2 days ago
Text
FAMILIAR STRANGER | chapter six
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what's gonna happen when you find out about your enemy's biggest secret?
ghostface!chris x enemy!reader
chapter five
— warnings; smut with plot, dom!chris, sub!reader, fingering, unprotected p in v, rough, creampie, dirty talk, pet names, bratty reader, cursing, - english isn't my first language.
~~~
you have gone through many stressful situations in your life. most of the time you didn't care about anything, always chilling and thinking logically, not emotionally. however, there were moments when even you started losing your shit and they were always more intense than they should have been. one of them, for example, was taking your driving test, which kept you up at night. or your 18th birthday that stressed you out so much that you had to drink a bottle of wine alone before the party to get rid of the anxiety. or choosing what college you wanna go to, and whether you'll even get there or not. lots of stressful days in your life, lots of situations.
but your heart had never beat as fast as it did in this moment.
your thumb hovering over the 'send' button while you consider all the pros and cons of what you're doing. biting your lower lip nervously, feeling the taste of blood in your mouth, but even this doesn't stop you. you had to make a decision whether to text chris or not, and that wasn't supposed to be so stressful, but it was.
after he left you alone in his room at the party, you didn't see him at all. after fixing your makeup, you went back downstairs and found emma, telling her you were going home, needing to process whatever happened in chris's room and how it made you feel. she knew you were with someone, anyone would notice by the state you were in, even if you tried to make yourself look presentable for twenty minutes in front of the mirror in chris's room. somehow you managed to get rid of emma and her questions for now, ignoring her for two days. in fact ignoring everyone, needing some time alone, but it didn't feel like you were by yourself at all, with the way chris was in your mind every second of the day.
finally, before you could change your mind, you sent the message and threw your phone to the other end of the couch, hugging your legs to your chest and clutching your heated cheeks as if that would somehow help you. tense silence remains in the living room for the next two minutes, as you start to regret texting him.
another five minutes and you finally reach for your phone, ready to delete the message when you see three dots showing that he is replying. with w muffled scream, your phone flies across the room as you throw it again, a notification indicating a new message heard. for a second you just sit still, wheels turning in your head, but then you almost jump from your place, your legs on the couch, the rest of your body hanging off it as you steady yourself with one hand on the floor, the other picking up your phone and reading the message. you could feel the blood rushing to your head.
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"bitch," you mutter to yourself, looking at the screen in pure disbelief. there's no way you were stressing for the past hour to send that fucking simple message, overthinking all night if you should even text him and how to do it to not sound too desperate, even wondering if three question marks is too much and maybe you should put one, and he just said he's busy.
unfortunately for him, you weren't a person who gave up easily, and if you finally decided to talk to him, you will do everything to make it happen. so you reply back, not having to wait for his response too long.
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you roll your eyes, upset that you even tried to start any conversation with him, that you wasted the entire day yesterday and today thinking about him when he was clearly busy and definitely not overthinking anything like you did. you're not only mad at him, but also at yourself for being so stupid. after all it was chris, there's nothing to talk about here. he had his way with you and that's it, nothing changes.
not that you wanted it to change anyway.
leaving him on seen, you decide to take care of yourself a little bit, to relaxe since this stress made you feel and look terrible, bags under your eyes after two sleepless nights. so the next hour you spend in your bathtub, cool music filling your ears as you read a book, careful not to make it wet.
then you hear a noise coming from your room, at first thinking it's some hallucination from the lack of sleep, so you stop the music and listen, immediately hearing another muffled bang that makes you jump out of the tub, almost soaking your book. cursing under your breath, you wrap a towel around your waist, looking around to find anything which could be useful in defense. all you find is a glass flowerpot, so you take it, poking your head out from behind the bathroom door.
silence.
you carefully step out of the bathroom, water dripping onto the floor from your body as you walk slowly barefoot towards your room where the door was slightly open. it seemed stupid to go there, but you were acting out of adrenaline.
you heard another curse and the sound of the window closing, a frown appearing between your eyebrows as you gently opened the door, ready to attack whoever the fuck was in your room, clutching the flowerpot in one hand and holding the towel that was sliding off your body with the other.
"chris, what the fuck?!" your eyes wide as he turns around to look at you, dressed as a ghostface.
"i got fuckin' stuck," he removes his mask, running his hand through his hair, eyes immediately traveling up and down your wet body, covered by nothing but some thin towel.
immediately pressing the material against your body, now feeling strangely naked, your expression questioning him before your mouth could. he rolls his eyes, "told ya to remember 'bout closin' this fuckass window, didn't i?" he takes off his robe, leaving him in black pants and a t-shirt, his gaze had not left your figure, a strange shiver pass through him, which he only felt around you. "i knocked on the door, but you didn't answer again."
"couldn't you call me?"
he blinks stupidly, his eyes moving back up, "right." then he notices the flower pot in your hand, a low mocking laugh leaving his lips, "wanted to kill me with this?"
you glance at the flower pot, rolling your eyes and walking into the room to put it on the desk, feeling his eyes on you. "i was taking a bath, you idiot—" turning around, you almost jump when he's suddenly in front of you.
"i noticed," he smirks, tilting his head to the side. you try to ignore his intense gaze, "what do you want anyway?"
"you wanted to talk."
"weren't you busy?"
"took care of that," he retors. your eyebrow arches up as you peak out behind him at the mask and knife placed on the bed. "yes," he simply says, noticing your expression. you didn't need to know anything else.
"well, okay," clearing your throat, you grab some clean clothes from the dryer. "let me get dressed first."
"no need to rush," at the stare you give him, chris lifts his hands up in surrender and flops on your bed just as you leave the room.
you put on some shorts and a two size too big shirt, quickly cleaning up the bathroom as well. honestly, you were playing on time. you didn't expect him to come after he definitely said no in the text, and now you had no idea what to tell him, and the stress you were feeling earlier came back stronger than before.
finally finding the courage you leave the bathroom, finding chris in the living room looking at the photos you had on the wall. stopping in the doorway, you quickly tie your hair into a ponytail.
"i remember that," he points at one picture with you, him, his brothers and nate on it after one of your old friend's birthday party. you liked this one a lot.
"crazy night—"
"we danced together," he says casually though his voice a little weaker as if the memory of it was doing something to him. you're taken back that he even remembers since he was awfully high that night.
"yeah..." your voice unsure since neither of you ever mentioned it before. "-- yeah, we did."
the corner of his mouth twitches into a smile but he quickly hides it, licking his lips and settling on the couch. you take the seat next to him, keeping your distance.
after a short silence, he speaks up, "it was fun. that party." you agree with a nod of your head. that night you two were pretty chill, he was high, you were drunk and both of you just had fun, for a few hours not remembering that you disliked each other. sometimes you thought of it and wondered why couldn't it be like this all the time.
"so," he clears his throat, getting more comfortable on the couch, arm resting on the back of the sofa as he looks at you. "what's this super important conversation you've wanted to have with me?" his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"uh, right... about that—" you think about how to put it into words, heart pounding in your chest while your brain working at full speed. finally you just blurt out mindlessly, "we fucked."
chris raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable, "really? didn't notice."
you open your mouth and then close it again, trying to ignore his comment. taking a deep breath, you continue, "i mean... well, i was kind of drunk, let's be honest. so i didn't think—"
"c'mon, kid, we both know you'd fuck me even sober," he rolls his eyes, slight annoyance in his tone at the clear delusion coming from you.
"that's literally not even close to what i'm talking about..." a wave of heat washes over you from embarrassment of being called out like that. you had to find some excuse, because to be honest, you didn't know how you ended up in chris's bed. well, you knew how, but you needed some explanation for yourself. though, what you're for sure aware of, is that the desire and arousal you felt was real. "it was, like, another moment of weakness."
"you got a lot of 'em with me recently," he teases, scanning your face as if looking for something. for a moment you were speechless from the intensity of his blue eyes. and chris noticed it. of course he did. "it was good though..." he adds, his voice lower now.
you try hard not to look too nervous while agreeing, "yeah... it was." his lips curve into that smirk you knew so well while he shamelessly checked you out again, his eyes lingering on your exposed thighs for too long. noticing that, you quickly add, "it shouldn't have happened and we won't do it again."
"yeahhhh," his tongue clicks against his teeth. chris makes eye contact with you again and that's when you know you're screwed. "we won't."
with these words you look at each other too long and too intensely, almost as if communicating between the words. and you didn't even know when or how you ended up straddling his lap, gripping his shoulders desperately trying to steady yourself while he pumps his fingers rapidly into your cunt, curling them up to hit that sweet spot inside you. his thumb rubs circles around your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure. the ghostface mask is back on his face, making you clench around his fingers. it all happened in less than ten minutes, that's how weak you were for chris and how addicted to you he's become.
"mhmmm, look at you... so fuckin' pretty, drippin' all over my hand..." he says, his voice hoarse with arousal. his cock was rock hard already, uncomfortably straining against his pants. "your body doesn't lie, even if your mouth does," chris watches you closely, taking note of the way your chest heaves, lips parted with little whimpers escaping them.
"chris— mmmh, f-fuck.... so... so g-good— oh!" your walls tighten around his fingers, hips slightly grinding against his hand. he flexes his fingers inside you, stretching you, his thumb on your clit picking up speed.
he smirks to himself at how responsive you are to him, "you jus' fuckin' love when i manhandle you, huh?" he adds a third finger, scissoring them, his other hand tugging on your hair, forcing you to keep your eyes on his mask. chris was now aware of the effect it had on you and it was making him so turned on. "constantly tryin' to make me mad, messin' with my fuckin' head, kid... not really nice of you."
you let out a loud pornographic moan when his fingers once again curl inside you, hitting your g-spot perfectly, his thumb pressing more against your bud. at the feeling of you tightening around him, a low groan escapes his lips. "thaaaat's it— yes, c'mon, give it to me... show me how bad you fuckin' hate me..."
"chris!" your eyes roll back as euphoria consumes you, head dropping forward onto his shoulder. "my... god...f-fuck you—"
he pumps his fingers languidly to ride out your orgasm, drawing out your pleasure for as long as he can. "mhm, i will," he smirks, slowing down his movements. "no need to rush, princess." he finally pulls his fingers out of you, lifting up your head, "open up."
as you obey, he brings his fingers into your mouth, your tongue immediately cleaning them up, tasting your own release on your tongue. "fuckkk—" he bucks his hips up, his clothed hardness pressing against your swollen bud, stealing another whimper from you.
you were sure you had lost your mind. you really wanted to make it clear today, that what happened at friday couldn't happen again, but it was so hard when he was... him.
"chris, we need to stop," you say as soon as he removes his fingers out of your mouth, immediately placing them back between your legs, gently caressing your swollen folds and spreading your wetness around, which makes you flinch from the over sensation.
"stop sayin' that when you react so strongly to me," his other hand moving to unzip his pants and pull them down his hips, freeing his leaking with precum dick. you look at him, the ghostface mask sending shivers straight into your core and you already know there's no coming back. "so?" he asks, gripping your hips, "still wanna stop?"
"no," you mutter annoyed at the way he was making you feel. chris bites his bottom lip with a grin, his body begging for any kind of release. he's never wanted anyone so badly. he lifts you up a little, then impaling you on his length in one swift, deep motion. both of you moan, his head throwing back at the feeling of your tight walls sucking him in. he missed this.
"fuckkk, you jus' feel so good..." he praises, holding you still for a moment to savor the feeling of being burned inside you. then he starts pounding into you, his grip on your hips painful as he doesn't let you move at all, wanting to have the control over everything.
"...what a fuckin' slut you are f'me— jesus..." he looks down, watching as he slams deep into your heat, not caring about the noises or the mess. he's too far gone to worry about anything expect the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around his dick. "sooo perfect, fuck— and what'd you say, huh?" he pants, looking up at your full of pleasure expression. "not happening again? fuckin' watch."
you're practically bouncing on him from the strength with which chris fucks you from below, your walls immediately clenching around him, the overstimulation from your previous orgasm makes your head spin.
"chris, s-so-- deep..." you whine, gasping for air as he changes the position to get a better angle. he flips you onto your back on the sofa, pressing your knees against your stomach which caused him to go even deeper.
"yeah? you like to feel my fuckin' cock? look..." his fingers wraps around your wrist and he moves your hand to the noticeable bulge in your gut as he slides in and out of your wet pussy. the feeling of him like that, makes your toes curl as you quickly feel your second release approaching.
"gonna... c-cum! oh—" your whines and moans now filling the room with chris's eventual groans when he feels you constantly clenching around his dick.
"come all over me, c'mon... and m'gonna fill you up, yeah? gonna do it so fuckin' deep, you'll be leakin' my shit for days..." he snarls, his thrusts becoming harder as another orgasm washes over you, your eyes locked on his ghostface mask, even if you could barely keep them open. he doesn't even slow down while you tremble from the intensity of your release, moans leaving your lips and back arching up. "squeezin' me so tight, shiiittt— you were made f'me...."
with a feral groan, he buries himself as deep as he can, his dick pulsing as he explodes inside you, his hot seed filling your cunt to the brim. both of you panting, chris props himself on his hands of each side of your body so as not to crash you with his weight. both of you panting heavy, your eyes now closed while you try to come back on earth.
once the last waves of his climax subside, he pulls out with a wet squelch, his cum dripping out of your hole. a smirk appears on his lips at your disheveled form as he takes the mask off, pulling back to have a better look on your swollen, glistening cunt. just as your legs weakly were about to drop onto the couch, he grips your thighs, keeping you spread open for him. "that's a sight..." he runs a finger through the mess he'd made, making you whimper. "sensitive much?" his tone mocking. his fingers slipping between your folds, gathering as much as he could of his and yours release and pushing it back inside, a muffled scream escaping you.
"chris!" you smack his hand away, your legs automatically try to close. he tsks, his face full of mock innocence, "what? just cleanin' you up." his eyes glistening when he makes eye contact with you and he adds, "unless you wan' me to lick it off instead?"
"no, thanks," you mutter fully aware he'd love to overstimulate you.
"a'ight, drama queen," he rolls his eyes, grabbing the tissues from the coffee table, cleaning his own mess before passing them to you. he sits up, pulling his pants up while you proper yourself on your elbows, starting to clean up.
a silence remains in the living room, he takes a rolled joint from his pocket, placing it between his lips, and looks towards you noticing how your hands and legs are shaking a little. you weren't able to clean yourself thoroughly, the mix of your and his cum running down your inner thighs.
"kid," he lights up the joint, taking a long drag. "the fuck you doin'?"
you give him a death stare, "it's quite clear to see."
he exhales, smoke billowing out as he speaks, "but, like... you don't— just..." he groans, putting the joint back between his lips, his voice muffled, "--fuckin' gimme it... can't even clean y'self up, jesus... so annoying..."
chris practically snatches the tissues from your hands as he spreads your legs, ignoring your confused and surprised expression. he simply starts wiping the mess between your legs, his touch strangely tender, "can't do shit with that shaky ass hands..." he keeps commenting under his nose more to himself than to you, the smoke from his joint filling the room.
you watch mesmerized, as he grabs the joint between the fingers of one hand, the other still focused on the task, his tongue poking out at the corner of his mouth in concentration. he was gentle, or at least chris tried to be when he saw how red and puffy your pussy looked. it was such a simple action but it made your heart do a backflip. and not only you felt this way, chris himself was somehow, almost nervous.
he finally catches up on your stare, a frown appearing between his eyebrows, "the fuck you lookin' at..." his eyes traveling to the marks he left on your hips, some of the bruises older from friday, others fresh and reddish. this sight fills him with a sense of pride. he finally leans back on the couch, throwing the used tissues aside, glancing back at you. "stop starin', kid."
your face all flushed as you finally tear your eyes away from his and manage to sit up, adjusting your shirt and looking around for your sweatpants.
"here," he hands them to you, taking another drag on his joint. you put your clothes back on, wondering what the hell was going on.
you sit next to him still slightly breathless, after a moment he passes you the joint, neither of you looking at each other as you take it.
"y'know..." chris finally speaks up, "for someone who claims to hate me so much, you sure do let me do all sorts of nasty things to ya."
that's what causes you to finally make eye contact with chris, annoyance flickering through your face at the sudden call out. "for someone who claims to hate me so much, you sure want to do a lot of nasty things to me."
he smirks amused at your response, looking like you exhale the smoke. "well, yeah, hating you and being insanely attracted t'you aren't mutually exclusive, y'know..." you raise your eyebrows as he continues, "besides i never said i hated you, i jus' said i hated you."
the clear confusion and how your cheeks were burning after his words, makes chris's grin widen. "what the fuck is the difference?"
"don' worry 'bout it," he retors, grabbing the joint from between your fingers to finish it.
"insanely attracted to me, huh?" you process his words. chris rolls his eyes, "insanely is a strong word actually, what i meant is—"
"nuh, uh," you interrupted him with a grin on your face, pointing your finger at him. "you said what you wanted to say."
"no, i—
"lalala, i can't hear youuuu," you cover your ears like a kid, the mix of annoyance and amusement building up within him. "you're a child," he puts out the butt of the joint in some empty can on the coffee table, and takes your hands away from your ears. "child."
you just smile, feeling unfamiliar warm spreading across your chest. it was strange, chris usually saw you smiling but at other people, not at him. it made him want to... kiss you? hold you?
"weirdo," he mutters, leaning back, but there's no usual bite in his tone. his arm rests on the back of the sofa behind you, his wheels turning around in his head. he glances at your side profile, his tongue clicking against his teeth, "i always wondered why you were with this idiot jake." you're taken back, glancing at him with a frown, but it doesn't discourage him from continuing. chris felt like he has to. "you were always annoying, but i thought you're better than that. he had no idea how to treat you right and you kept comin' back to him, what was insane to me. he was just a dick—"
"you wouldn't understand..."
"no, i definitely fuckin' wouldn't," he retors annoyed. "so m'not even gonna try, but he was pissin' me the fuck off. i was waitin' for the day you finally leave him for good."
"it wasn't that simple," you try to explain, but chris wasn't having any of that. "kid, don' bullshit me. you even try to defend him now when he's gone? don't tell me you..."
"no, i try to defend myself, 'cause you don't get it," you interrupt, not wanting to hear whatever he was going to say. "he was awful, but at that time i kinda just... craved affection, i guess," your cheeks heat with embarrassment. "and sometimes he was giving me that."
"what affection he could give ya? bet, he fuckin' sucked. and you deserve to get affection and all this other shit all the time, not just sometimes. that's fucked up."
"and what do you know about all of that?" you question him, which annoys the hell out of chris. "every week you have a new girl to fuck, then moving on to the next one."
he knows you're right, chris had no clue how to show affection either, he never was good at this because he simply never let himself attach to anyone. but he knew, if he had you, he would never be like your ex. chris would try his best to make sure you know you're loved.
"there's nothing wrong with that, they all know m'not lookin' for a relationship. i always tell 'em at the beginnin' that it's only a hook up. i don' play anyone..."
"always?" when chris nods, you add, "i didn't hear you saying that to me."
now he's surprised, quickly hiding it, but the way his eyes scanned your face was telling you everything you needed to know.
"well..." he slowly licks his lips, carefully thinking of his next words. "i never... i mean, i knew we'd do it again at some point... but i just— fuck, i don' know..."
your voice is dripping with sarcasm when you say the next sentence, but there was genuine curiosity behind it, "maybe deep down you expected something?"
his expression is unreadable, but chris's heart was beating so hard, he was afraid you'd hear. the question you asked stirred weird feelings inside him and he had to get out of this situation fast. you knew one of his deepest secrets already, there was no way he'd let you know his other ones.
"be serious, kid," his smirk doesn't reach his eyes. "enough with that talk. i gotta go..."
his reaction saying more than he would ever say. you watch as he stands up, "i am serious and you're running away right now—"
"shut your goddamn mouth for once, holy fuck," he snaps at you, gripping the bridge of his nose. "i have shit to do so i'm leavin', simple as that. not that is any of your business anyway."
your blood boil at his words but you don't say anything else. you were afraid your voice would betray you, so watching him gathering his stuff from your room and then hearing the front door shutting, was all you did.
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mecachrome · 2 days ago
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#i wish it weren't taboo to talk about how 814 are literally just an audhd couple... could discuss this for days. does anyone want to
actually yes i would like nothing more this is lowkey all i think about sometimes
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HLSDKFHLH i was about to publish my own post but now i feel enabled to write a Longer Response 🧡 thank u guys
2 me 814 is Girl who is so classically adhd it's comical (overt hyperfixations + poor executive function + basically arfid + time blindness) coexists beautifully with Misunderstood autistic girl (too straightforward for other people + pretended to be a car as a child + sensory issues through the roof + consciously masking in every interview) while everyone loses their minds because they should Hate Each Other and be at each other's throats??! and yet they don't because their neurodivergent swag transcends petty team politics 💗
like honestly i think they interact easily because they're both weird & particular in their own ways but their priorities are ultimately the same so why would any of that matter you know? and they try to accommodate each other when they're able to even if it's little things like oscar not eating salmon around lando anymore lol 😭 (i say this as audhd guy with extreme sensory issues and many other Problems and Issues... that is in fact romanze to me. also little stuff like the No Name Drop? moment because yes it's small in the grand scheme of things but to me it's special because it's like... THEIR inside joke and oscar is proving he does enjoy it and cares about maintaining it :') and then when lando was feeling down post-race in brazil he pulled out landinho all on his own <3)
like this is so random but i was just rewatching the logan sexed bit earlier and it's so funny how oscar is just like ??? WHAT. and somewhat annoyed at being grilled about it because in his head he's thinking "it's literally just a show title why are you Willfully Misunderstanding me idg why that's so funny to you are you 5." but with lando there's so much less... idk laughing At each other as if there's some big joke one person is missing out on and more just giggling together because oscar thinks every little thing lando says is funny and because they're equally charmed by each other's particularities. like oscar doesn't mind that lando is super fidgety and respects that he has Depths (saying that lando is a mix of sarcastic/dry, excitable, and serious) while lando has joked that oscar is somewhat robotic before but obviously still revels in wheedling genuine reactions out of him :') like you can see from how they get caught up in their little world while in parc fermé or doing their f1 media duties that they're capable of just focusing on Each Other without a care in the world for other people and they aren't talking just to have content for the cameras...
and like again the whole point of f1 is that it's a media circuit that needs overextended drama to survive as a consumable product but in the end neither of them care to sustain these artificial demands because it's just antithetical to their personalities and how their brains operate... their job is literally just car 🏎
also another thing is how people talk about 814 always twinning but what adds even more dimension to it is basically oscar admitting and being conscious of his mirroring lando's expressions 😭 and the fact that he's always choosing him for interview questions/copying his answers during games! like i think it's sooo compelling that oscar unintentionally latched onto lando as a young teenager in the uk and never really strayed from that because you have a very expressive, larger-than-life lando who is prone to being misrepresented because people don't really understand the manifestation of adhd and then level-headed oscar who is also poorly read because he doesn't express himself "conventionally" taking one look at lando and being like Hmmm yes. i'll mold myself after that. and lando being so happy and open to that dynamic 🧡 does it not move u
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thegeassking-blog · 17 hours ago
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Progeny Lost and found
To Amanda Waller.
Considering that you're moving all assets (soldier boy, soldier girl, drones) of the soldier program to your Suicide Squad this report will the last you receive, we do apologize if it gets long, but it will allow us to be thorough.
17 years ago Diana Prince AKA Wonder Woman gave birth to a son at XYZ hospital and the child was seized in a fake villain attack and placed in the soldier program, genetic testing has shown that the child's father is indeed Bruce Wayne AKA Batman, both are known, active and founding members of the Justice League.
For the first four years not much is to be reported other than calm mind.
However at five years old we successfully taught him how to read and that seemed to "click" something in his mind, he started reading everything we had on hand magazines newspapers books on top of that he also started disassembling and reassembling basically everything and anything he could get his hands on, including our "personal project" to our chagrin. The fact that he seems to understands what he diss/reassembles speaks for enhanced mental abilities. Further testing is required
On top of that he demonstrates greater physical than a child his age should be able to possess we are again chalking this up to genetics considering who his parents are, further testing is required.
At 6 years old we started harvesting blood, stem cell, saliva and hair from soldier boy for cloning considering that the clones won't be viable for several years for the fact that the technology needs to be calibrated for the subject being cloned we suspect that the first successful batch won't be around until the subject is at least nine to 10 years of age, we have also started on physical and mental training.
At 8 years old we can confirm that soldier boy does indeed possess an erratic memory Needless to say for a soldier this is quite good considering that you may not get more than a glance at something in the field. This was confirmed when he rebuilt one of our "personal projects" from scrap and literal garbage we had lying around the the lab, nearly burnt the place down with that ecto blaster.
As for physical abilities he's demonstrating nearly 50% more than what normal children his age should possess, his physical conditioning should only enhance this, biologically his muscles are denser, his bones are stronger, on top of that he also seems to possess not quite a meta level but definitely accelerated healing factor. The limit of this ability requires further testing.
at 10 years of age our theory has been proven correct for both physical and mental abilities, the more we seem to push him the more he seems to grow. no longer is he learning just theory we've also started martial arts training as well as weapon training, he doesn't master a weapon the moment he picks it up but it only takes him a couple minutes have usage to figure out the most effective way to use a weapon be it melee or firearm.
Sad to say it might take another year or two for the first batch of clones. No stable clones have been able to survive outside the birthing tank for more than a few minutes however we believe we found the problem, the Y chromosome in his DNA seems to be unstabilizing all the clones we believe that removing it would stabilize them but it would also make it so that we would no longer have "perfect" clones of soldier boy. The reason behind this is unknown however we believe it is due to his Amazonian DNA.
At 12 years old we have continued physical and mental training however we've also started adding in psychological conditioning fit for a soldier. we have also started swapping out the targets for specialized training dummies that actually bleed when they are cut or shot.
We are also happy to announce that we have our first clone, while we were aiming for the batch of 5, as the accelerated aging evened out it was obvious that only one was capable of higher thought the. other four were terminated. we are planning on keeping them separated until the clone (from here on out shall be known as soldier girl) at least basic knowledge and we finish up running some tests.
Sadly the rest of the report was corrupted however there were two signatures at the bottom of it
Doctor Jack and doctor Madeline Fenton
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arkadijxpancakes · 2 days ago
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There are a couple of angles you can take:
1) Remember that "No" is a full sentence. You can just decline, without elaborating further. As she is your friend, you might want to cushion it a little bit, but you don't have to give any reasoning for not wanting to watch that show. You could try to offer some alternative, too. (Example: "Hey friend, I know you are interested in that new HP series everyone is talking about. Personally, It's just not for me. Therefore, I won't watch it. How about we watch/play/read [other thing] instead?")
If she keeps pushing after that, just redirect her to your "No". If she refuses to accept your boundary, it might be time to reevaluate (parts of) that friendship.
The other angles kind of depend on who your friend is, what she does and doesn't know about Rowling and on what she values. If you want to discuss this with her, try to make it personal. If she is passionate about something (trans rights, workers rights, etc.) focus on that. Avoid arguments she isn't interested in/doesn't care about. You can mix and match as needed, but try to stick to one or two main arguments. (That way, it's easier to keep the discussion on track. It's easy to get sidetracked or derailed, if there are too many arguments floating around. It could also cause her to get overwhelmed - and someone who is overwhelmed is unlikely to listen.)
But lets look at the different angles:
2) Focus on Rowling and her bigotry. She has (and, in a lot of cases, still does):
spread misinformation about transness and trans people. She constantly tries to stir up moral panics about trans women in public bathrooms, prisons and sports.
refused to accept the results of scientific research. She is just as anti-science as many climate change deniers.
used ableist and infantilizing language against autistic people. (This usually boils down to the idea that autistic people do not understand how the world works and should not be allowed to make divisions about themselves and their own bodies.)
supported involuntary conversion therapy. (She also named one of her pseudonyms after Robert Galbraith Heath, a pioneer of conversion therapy. When called out on this, she refused knowing about Robert Galbraith Heath. Apparently, she just really likes the names Robert and Galbraith and had to mash them together without doing a quick google search. She did not change the pseudonym and is still publishing books under that name.)
used her wealth and reputation to influence British politics and lobby against trans rights. (For example, the right to self-ID and the right to trans inclusive healthcare.)
caused and participated in multiple harassment campaigns against women of color, by claiming they were men. One of her targets is Imane Khelif, a female boxer who participated in the Olympic Games 2024. Rowling targeted her, after she won a match against an Italian boxer. She also targeted Lin Yu-ting, another boxer.
She is on record for denying crimes committed by the Nazis. In particular, she called the fact that trans people were targeted by the Nazis as a "fever dream". When called out on this, she doubled down and tried to hide behind semantics. She also allowed literal Neo Nazis to support her on this. Note: When people talk about this, they often use the term "Holocaust Denial" - which it totally is. However, I would refrain from using that term, because it could allow your friend to derail the discussion by focussing on semantics instead of on what Rowling did. Many transphobes and Rowling apologists love to claim that it isn't Holocaust denial, because the Holocaust was about the genocide against Jews and trans people aren't Jews. They will also claim, that it isn't Holocaust denial, because she isn't denying that the Holocaust happened. You really don't want to get swamped with that bullshit, so don't say "Rowling has committed Holocaust denial." Instead, try to be specific. (Example: Rowling called the idea, that trans people were persecuted by the Nazis during the Third Reich, a "fewer dream". This includes her denying the fact that the Nazis raided the Insitut für Sexualwissenschaft and burned its library. (At that time, the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft was the leading research institution for gay, transgender and intersex topics.)
3) Focus on the bigotry in the books. The books just don't have aged well. If the series sticks to the books, there will be a lot of questionable stuff in there. This includes in no particular order:
The houself-plotline that Rowling introduces in Goblet of Fire depicts an enslaved fantasy species that loves working for their masters and sees payment as an insult. They also react with mental health issues and alcoholism, when freed. When Hermione starts to advocate for them, her activism is treated as a joke. Her contemporaries laugh at her, the house elves resent her and the lesson she learns from all of this is "They like it that way!"
There is no fucking progress. At the end of the books, the house elves are still enslaved, Hermione has stopped her activism and “All was well.”
The way, female characters are portrayed in the books, is pretty misogynistic. Firstly, there is just a lack of important female characters in general. (Most characters, especially when it comes to important characters, are male.) Secondly, the female characters that do exist, tend to fall into iffy tropes. Hermione and Ginny fall into the “not like other girls” trope. Adult female characters are often reduced to their roles as wives and mothers. Female characters, who perform femininity wrong, get criticized and condemned by the narrative. (This includes feminine characters who are too feminine, characters who are too masculine and characters who refuse to be good little wives and mothers. Examples are Fleur Delacour, Lavender Brown, Rita Skeeter, Dolores Umbridge and Bellatrix Lestrange.)
There is a lot of colonialist thinking in the books. You can see this in how characters from other countries get stereotyped a lot. It’s also reflected in the way non-wizards are treated.
The teaching methods that are depicted in the books are just awful. Most teachers we see, simply shouldn’t be put into a classroom full of kids. And it’s not just Snape, either. (At least, his teaching “skills” get criticized in the books.) McGonagall plays favorites, while pretending to be fair, Dumbledore regularly endangers the kids in his care (and it’s not just Harry either) and let’s not even try to talk about Hagrid.
There is a lot of fatphobia in the books. It’s mostly reserved for characters who are bad or evil. (Just look at how Dudley is treated, for example.)
There is a lot of ableism in the books.
There is a lot of black-and-white-thinking in the books. Stuff the good guys do, is usually depicted as good, Stuff the bad guys do, is usually depicted as bad and evil. Even if they do the same thing. (Snape or the Slytherins bully Neville? How could they! Outright evil, all of them! Harry or other good Gryffindor characters bully Neville? Oh, that’s just a little bit of fun and comic relief. No big deal.)
In addition the black-and-white-thinking, there is also a lot of mean-spiritedness in the books. On a fundamental level, most characters are pretty mean. And it’s not just the bad/evil characters, either. At times, Harry, Ron and Hermione are pretty mean to other characters and each other. As are good characters like McGonagall and Molly Weasley, and lovely old Hagrid is even worse. Then there are all the bullies on the Gryffindor-side of the good-vs-evil divide. (Mostly the Marauders, but also Fred and George.)
4) Focus on the series itself. It’s very likely, that this series will be nothing but a cash grab. You can point at Fantastic Beasts. It might have started with a pretty solid film, but after that the quality of the films fell down a steep cliff. The films got canceled after film 3. It is very likely that the TV series will suffer the same fate. Because it’s not about revisiting the books and making a high-quality series about them. There are already movie adaptations of the books and they are good enough and new enough. There is no need for another adaptation. So no, it’s not about making a good adaptation. Warner is simply trying to milk their cash cow.
If you are a marauders fan/ you support or are in the queer community then do Not watch the upcoming Harry Potter show! Do not support it! Do not interact with posts in support of it! We do not need anymore content from jkr! Buy the books second hand! Don’t buy official merch! Stop giving your money to her! Stop being transphobic!
Edit: I have a reply in the reblogs to those mentioning to pirate the show
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hungermakesmonsters · 2 days ago
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The Red Ribbon
Chapter One
Plot Summary : By day you’re Billy Russo’s clumsy PA, but by night you’re a host at New York City’s most exclusive gentlemen's club. At The Red Ribbon everyone is anonymous and masks conceal the identities of patrons and hosts alike. But your two lives are about to collide and Billy Russo is about to see a whole new side of you without even realising it..
Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader
Story Rating : R 
Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour. All chapters will deal with smutty themes and include mentions/suggestions of sex work/work at a gentlemen's club (don't like, don't read). Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 
Word Count : 6k
A/N : This is a little something I've been toying with for a while. It's only going to be a short thing (3 parts) over the next few weeks. There's no upload schedule but it'll probably be posting on Fridays anyway 😅 Also I've been ill all week so that's my excuse for typos
Master List
Chapter One
“Remind me why I hired you?”
His voice was a cold snap that caused your cheeks to burn with embarrassment. Even on his birthday, your boss was an asshole.
Your hands trembled as you tried to restack the files that you’d clumsily manage to drop all over his office floor. The contents of the files had spilled out and you already knew that it was going to take you hours to make sure the correct paperwork ended up back where it was supposed to be.
“It wasn’t a rhetorical question,” he added a moment later. “Why did I hire you?”
“Because your other assistants keep quitting,” you muttered under your breath.
It was humiliating, scrabbling around on his office floor, the carpet scrapping your bare knees as you tried to pick everything up as quickly as possible.
“What was that?” He asked.
It was reasonable to guess that he hadn’t heard you - you were certain he would have been a lot angrier if he’d heard you. Still, you hated yourself for letting it slip out. As much as you hated the way your boss treated you, the pay was good. Too good to quit.
“I said I’m sorry Mr Russo,” you answered softly, managing to grab the last of the files and get back to your feet. “I’ll get these sorted and have them on your desk first thing in the morning.”
“I hope you’re planning on staying late.”
“What?” The word spilled from your lips before you had the chance to stop it.
“Do you have somewhere else to be? Something more important than fixing your fuck up and doing the job I pay you to do?” Mr Russo asked.
As a matter of fact, you did have somewhere else to be and something that was more important than fixing the potential Anvil candidate files that you’d managed to dump all over his office floor, but you couldn’t tell him that.  
There was only one person who knew how you spent your nights, and it certainly wasn’t your boss. No, if Billy Russo knew where you went after your days at Anvil, he’d see to it that he had your resignation in his hand by the end of the day. And you were sure the same could be said of your night job.
“No, Mr Russo,” you answered, dropping your gaze to the floor, “I don’t have anywhere more important to be.”
“Good answer,” he said as he grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair and pulled it on. He moved towards his office door, stepping past you as if you were just another piece of furniture, a spare chair in the way. “And don’t even think about leaving that unfinished. I’ll be in at 5am so you’re not going to have the opportunity to sneak in early tomorrow to finish up.”
He didn’t even wait for a half-hearted ‘yes, Mr Russo’ before leaving for the day.
You glanced at your watch, doing the maths in your head; you should have been finishing in ten minutes time, at five o’clock, which would have given you three hours to get home, eat, and then get across town to work your night job.
The Red Ribbon was New York's most exclusive gentlemen's club - though to call it a gentlemen’s club was somewhat outdated as, these days, it catered to the needs and desires of wealthy clientele regardless of gender identity and sexual orientation. But, it had been considered a gentlemen’s club since the 1950s, and the verbiage was surprisingly hard to shake. 
The club offered something that few similar establishments did; total anonymity for both guests and workers. There were no cameras in The Red Ribbon, no phones or recording devices were allowed. And everyone wore masks. The only way to tell the staff from the clientele were the red ribbons worn about their necks.
You’d been working at The Red Ribbon for the last six months. At the start you’d tended bar, not wanting to get too hands-on with the customers - not because you had any strong feelings or moral objections about those that did, but mostly because you didn’t think you’d be any good at it. You’d never been the sort to consider yourself graceful, much less sexy, but you could make a mean espresso martini and you were great with pointless smalltalk. 
The money was good, but it wasn’t good enough, not when you had debts and financial obligations. 
At The Red Ribbon, the hosts made the most money, each getting assigned to one of the private rooms and being tasked with taking care of the customers' needs for the whole night. It was ultimately up to the host what taking care of the customer entailed though boundaries were firmly established before the host set foot in the private room. Every host had their own limits, some were happy to touch and be touched, some took it further still, and others preferred a hands-off approach.
If there was one thing The Red Ribbon was known for beyond the total anonymity it offered, it was the level of security. Everyone who set foot through the doors knew better than to cause trouble or push the boundaries of any member of staff.
You’d made the switch from bartender to host slowly, filling in whenever someone was out sick or when you needed a little extra money. You were slow to warm to it but, to your surprise, you found that you actually enjoyed it. Though you stayed firmly in the no touching or being touched camp, the tips you made in one night were still more than you made over a whole week tending bar.
But, when that money still wasn’t enough to cover your debts, you took a day job.
And that was how you’d ended up spending an evening hunched over a desk at Anvil, trying desperately to match paperwork with the correct file for a boss who’d made it pretty clear that he didn't like you and thought you were too inept for your job.
By the time you were done, you barely had the chance to make it home and shower and, instead of eating a proper meal, you ate a Snickers bar on the subway.
The Red Ribbon had a special entrance for staff that used old prohibition tunnels and a hidden elevator to get you into the building and up to the top floor. 
New York was stunning from fifty floors up and, some nights, you’d find yourself in the locker room just staring out at the skyline as you changed into your uniform. But tonight you didn’t have the luxury of time.
You stood in front of the schedule, checking which room you were in and which mask you’d be wearing. While bar staff and servers all wore the same elegant black and red masks  to obscure their faces, hosts wore individual masks that corresponded with the room they’d be working. Tonight you were in the rabbit room, so you plucked the ornate rabbit mask from its hook on the wall.
Of all the masks, the rabbit had always been your favourite because of the detailing on the ears and the way it just sat right on your face.
You always got such a rush from pulling a mask on and heading out into the club. Under any other circumstance the thought of walking around in a revealing black bodysuit would have been embarrassing, but once you had your mask on, you felt almost powerful, like a superhero with a secret identity. With the mask, you weren’t you, you were whatever part you were playing and tonight you were Bunny, and Bunny could be whoever you wanted her to be.
The last part of your uniform was the red ribbon that you tied around your neck, the very thing that distinguished staff from customers, and gave the club its name.
You gave yourself one last look in the floor to ceiling mirror, making sure that you looked ready to handle whatever the night had to throw at you, before finally stepping out into the main area of the club.
Once you passed the threshold, everything about you changed; you held your head high and walked through the club like you owned the place. Here you weren’t the quiet little PA who had to keep her mouth shut in case her boss decided to fire her. Here you called the shots.
The spring in your step became even more noticeable as you climbed the stairs and headed onto the walkway that led to the private rooms, each situated above the dancefloor with views of the whole club. 
“Hey, lil Bunny,” an all too familiar face said.
You grinned from ear to ear at the sight of Rocky, one of the club's security guards, a man, who in any other circumstances would terrify you.  He was a huge behemoth of a man, truly deserving of the title Built Like a Brick Shit-House. To the patrons, he was the one they didn’t want to get on the bad side of, but to you and the rest of the staff, he was safety incarnate.
“Hey, Rocky,” you said, bumping fists with him as you came to a stop in front of him.
He’d taken something of a shine to you on your first night at The Red Ribbon - he later told you it was because you reminded him of his sister who’d died only a few years before. Since then he’d always kept a close eye on you.
After bumping fists, you kept your arm outstretched so he could fit your security bracelet for the night; a very ornate looking panic button that you could use discreetly if you needed Rocky to deal with a problem customer. 
“You let me know if you need anything,” he said softly but seriously.
And, with that, you were on your way again, slipping into the rabbit room with a few minutes to spare before your guest arrived. You did a quick sweep of the room, making sure everything was tidy before turning on the music and checking the bar and, finally, you lowered the lights.
Less than five minutes later, a group of men were shown into the room, each wearing plain black masks that covered the top half of their faces, and each dressed to the club's high standards. Though, just from looking at them you could tell that some were more comfortable in suits than others.
“Welcome to The Red Ribbon, I’m Bunny and I’ll be your host for the evening and I’ll be running the bar for you, so make yourselves comfortable and I’ll get you your first round,” you announced and, with a flourish of your hand, you waved them towards the sofas.
You took drink orders and made a point of saying a little personal hello to each of them, knowing that it’d help win you tips by the end of the night.
As far as groups went, they seemed decent enough, not exactly what you’d call reserved by any stretch, but they seemed to be happy to talk amongst themselves while you tended bar, not expecting anything more of you.
After about half an hour, one of them broke away from the group and headed towards the bar. You couldn’t help but watch him, taking in the perfect way that his suit fit his tall, slender frame. 
He took a seat on one of the stools at the bar and flashed you the sort of smile that you were sure had panties dropping all across the five boroughs on a regular basis.
“What can I get you?” You asked.
“Another scotch would be great.”
“Sure thing.”
You were acutely aware of the way his eyes followed your every movement as you  grabbed a bottle and fresh glass with ice. Your skin felt like it was tingling under his gaze - he wasn’t leering, it felt more like he was appreciating. 
“Haven’t seen you here before,” he said.
For a second you wondered if it was a line - it certainly sounded like a line - but there was something in the way he was looking at you, something that made you think he was actually being serious.
“What makes you say that?” You asked in your playful voice, deciding to indulge him.
“I’d remember seeing you.”
He wasn’t shy about drinking in the sight of you. At any other time you might have felt disgusted, but it was part of the job and you probably would have been more offended if he  wasn’t checking you out.
“Hmm, and what exactly is it you think you’d remember?” You retorted playfully.
He grinned at that, a laugh rumbling in his chest. And his eyes - fuck, his dark eyes almost seemed to twinkle.
“I’m not sure it’d be considered polite if I was to get... anatomical,” he joked.
“It’s my ass, isn’t it?” You offered offhandedly, breaking any tension or sense of shame.
His grin grew wider, though there was a hint of surprise on his face too, like he hadn’t quite expected you to be so forward.
“Now that you mention it, you do have a very nice ass,” he agreed, “in fact that whole thigh-ass area is perfection.”
You could feel warmth spreading across your cheeks and down your neck, and you were glad of the low lights and the mask on your face. While you were used to comments on your body and what men wanted to do with you while working, there was something different about this. This felt like flirting. Honest to god flirting. And it had been a long time since anyone had tried to flirt with you.
Out in the real world, his comment would have turned you into a shy mess, but behind the bunny mask... well, let’s just say that Bunny wanted to play.
“Oh, a thigh man as well?” 
“I’m a man of refined tastes,” he shrugged.
His grin had you wishing you could see the rest of his face. You were already trying to picture what he might look like behind the mask but you were certain that your imagination was not doing it justice.
“And what else does that taste extend to?” You asked, leaning across the bar a little more as you slid his drink towards him.
His fingers briefly covered yours - rougher than you’d expected - before you slowly pulled your hand away. For a split second, you felt your breath catch, and there was a flicker of something on his face that made you think he’d felt it too, that moment of electricity when you’d touched.
“Are we still talking anatomically? Because I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been thinking about your tits for the last five minutes.”
Again, it wasn’t the sort of comment you’d put up with in any other situation but, then and there, in a place where you held all the power, you liked hearing it. The fact that he’d been allowed into The Red Ribbon meant that he was someone, that he was rich and powerful, so for poor, boring you to be the object of his desires gave a thrill like no other.
You let slip another laugh, propping yourself against the bar with a hand beneath your chin, eyes fixed on Mr Tall, Dark and Playful.
“Only the last five minutes?” You said, almost sounding distraught.
“Oh, you’re trouble, Bunny,” he remarked, leaning towards you as he lifted his drink and took a slow sip.
“I get the feeling that you like trouble.”
“You have no idea...”
It would have been a lie to say that the temptation to carry on the flirtatious conversation wasn’t increasing with every passing second; it was fun, you were actually enjoying it rather than just being subjected to it. But he wasn’t the only person in the room who wanted your attention and you had a job to do. 
“Looks like your friends want some attention too,” you said, nodding your head towards the group of men still sitting at the table. One of them was waving you over, obviously in desperate need of another drink.
“Animals, the lot of them,” he said, almost fondly. “I should have known they had selfish reasons for bringing me here on my birthday.”
“It’s your birthday?” You asked and received a nod in response, before shaking your head and muttering; “another Sagittarius...”
“Another?” 
You looked at him, almost embarrassed that you’d let it slip out and that you’d blurred the line between your real life and Bunny.
“Just a guy I know,” you shrugged.
“He break your heart or something? Need me and the guys to pay him a visit?” He offered playfully.
Another laugh escaped you and you couldn’t help but think about how strange it felt to be able to genuinely laugh with one of the customers. After months of perfecting your customer service laugh, you’d never expected to find yourself actually laughing at some off-handed comment. Especially when the comment was about a stranger going to beat the shit out of your boss for being mean to you.
“No, it’s okay. I can handle myself.”
“I’ll bet you can, Bunny.”
“Well,” you said, definitively, changing the subject and taking your thoughts away from your terrible day-boss, “happy birthday. I think you deserve something fancy to drink.”
He grinned as you turned away to fish a bottle of champagne from the wine fridge and grab enough glasses for him and his friends.
“This place is really somethin’ else,” a second voice said. “I know you said the girls were pretty but... holy shit.”
Tall, Dark and Playful gave a laugh.
“Prettiest girls in New York are all right here,” he said, clapping his friend on the back.
“Careful boys, my ears are burning,” you joked as you turned back to them.
“It's a beautiful woman's fate to be the subject of conversation wherever she goes,” he said.
“Didn't expect to hear anyone quoting Dorian Gray tonight,” you answered back, amused.
He looked almost surprised by the comment, his jaw dropped slightly and his eyes grew a little wider.
“You’ve read Dorian Gray?” He asked. “You like to read?”
“Does that surprise you?” You asked, your mask hiding the way your eyebrow rose. “Do you not think girls like me can read the classics?”
“No, it’s not that, it’s -” he glanced at his friend beside him, then to the group sitting at the table. You couldn’t hear what they were saying but from some of the hand gestures being made, you could guess that it was something filthy, “- it’s just that I'm not used to being around people who can actually read.”
He got a rough punch in the arm from the guy beside him for that, and you started to laugh again. 
They continued to talk while you popped the champagne and started to fill glasses for the whole party. You placed one in front of the birthday boy, and one in front of his friend, before loading up a tray and taking the rest to the party at the table.
“Champagne to toast the birthday boy,” you said with a cheeky smile, earning a round of cheers from the men.
When you returned to the bar, Tall and Dark’s friend passed you, heading back to the group, leaving the birthday boy all alone.
“Not gonna drink with your friends?” You asked.
It was hard not to feel curious - it was part of the job, the masks, the hidden identities, there were always so many unanswered questions.
“I’ve never been one for birthdays,” he answered with a shrug, but still shot you a smile before lifting his champagne flute to his lips.
“Hmm so the mysterious, handsome stranger has a tragic backstory,” you said playfully.
“I don’t know if I’d call it tragic,” he said, his shoulder ticking upwards uncomfortably.
“Should I ask?”
Probably not, you thought. But some part of you wanted to know, wanted to prod and poke until you had him all figured out.
“My mother abandoned me a few hours after I was born,” he stated flatly.
Oh.
Shit.
You didn’t expect him to laugh when he looked at you again, his head shaking. “Don’t look so shocked, it was a long time ago and I’ve come a long way since then.”
“I just -” the confidence of Bunny slipped for a moment, leaving only you; the clumsy girl with a heart that often felt far too big, “- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve joked...”
“It’s fine, really. I’ve had plenty of time to get over it. Besides, the way I figure it, she did me a favour. You want soft kids, coddle them and treat them well.”
“Wouldn't know anything about that,” you said with a wry smile. “My parents definitely didn't coddle us.”
“No?”
“Nope.”
“That all I'm getting?” He asked, smiling that playful smile again.
“Getting personal defeats the point of the masks, don't you think?” You retorted, leaning to top up his drink.
“I suppose,” he answered, pausing for a beat before continuing, “I guess you could tell me anything and I'd have to take your word for it.”
“You don't strike me as the sort of man who's trusting enough to do something like that.”
It was something you could see in his eyes, the way they took you in and watched every little flicker of emotion that crossed your face.
“Then why don't we play a game?” He offered. “We each get to ask a question, and you get to call the other out if you think they’re lying. And if I catch you in a lie, you have to tell me something true.”
Your eyes narrowed a little, trying to get a measure of him. Normally you were reasonably good at reading people - though maybe a lot of that came from working various PA and secretarial positions, needing to be able to anticipate your boss’ shitty moods.
“Okay, you’re on,” you agreed, “but a few ground rules; you’re not allowed to ask about who I am or anything that might identify me.”
“Sounds fair.” He lifted his champagne and took a slow drink but his eyes never left you. “What are you most afraid of?”
That caught you off guard. It was more serious than you’d anticipated.
“You could ask me almost anything, but that’s what you want to know?” 
“You can tell a lot about a person by what they’re scared of,” he said, shrugging.
You took a second to consider your answer.
“Jellyfish.”
“Really, Bunny, you’re gonna lie right outta the gate?” 
“Okay, fine,” you said with a huff, hating that he’d caught you out already. “I guess I’m most scared of dying alone, but jellyfish are a close second.”
“You think you’re gonna die alone?” He asked.
There was something in his voice that seemed to suggest he didn’t get it, or maybe it was that he thought it would never happen. Little did he know that you - the real you - didn’t exactly have the best luck with men.
“That’s two questions. Don’t I get a turn?” You asked, deciding to dodge his question.
Tall and Dark relented and gave a wave of his hand.
“What do you hate most about New York?” 
“Hate?” He repeated.
“Everyone always loves the same things about the city, but most people hate something different,” you explained.
You watched him closely as he considered his answer, looking for anything that might tell you if he was about to lie to you.
“The subway. It stinks of piss and there’s always too many people.”
You had to give him that one for obvious reasons, though he didn’t strike you as the kind of guy who used the subway all that often.
“When was the last time you used the subway?”
“That’s two questions, Bunny,” he chided playfully.
“Fine. Your turn.”
“What did you want to be when you were a kid?”
“What? You think that this wasn’t my career goal?” You said, barely holding back a laugh as you shook your head. “I don’t know, I went through a lot of phases; I wanted to be a vet until I lost my first hamster, wanted to be a doctor until my brother broke his arm, and I wanted to be a lawyer but I have a conscience...”
The birthday boy laughed with you, smiling at you, obviously happy enough with your answer because he didn’t call you out, making it your turn again.
“What’s your favourite place in New York?” You asked.
“Right here,” he said. “Right now. With you.”
“Yikes, what a line,” you said, smirking at him despite the heat in your cheeks. “Do lines like that usually work for you?”
“Normally I don’t need lines.”
“No?”
“People - women - usually make their minds up about me pretty quickly, and it’s rarely because of anything I have to say,” he explained.
You watched as he lifted his glass and drained his drink. Without needing to be asked, you refilled his glass. There was a pang of sadness in you, for him, for what he obviously had to go through.
“You must be pretty rich then,” you said, managing to keep the playful tone.
“Oh filthy rich,” he confirmed.
“Emphasis on the filthy part.”
He smirked at that.
The longer the conversation went on, the stranger it felt; it didn’t feel like work anymore, and you almost wished that it wasn’t. But moments like this didn’t happen to you out in the real world. He probably wouldn’t even look at you twice if he saw you in the light of day.
“Anyway, I call bullshit. There must be somewhere you like better than here, even if you are enjoying my company,” you said.
“Alright,” he conceded with an almost rueful smile, “there’s a baseball field in Brooklyn. I used to go there when I was a kid to watch other kids play...”
There was more to it, even you could tell that much, but it seemed personal - far more personal than you were prepared to get with him.
“You like baseball?”
“Liked,” he said, correcting you and adding another layer of uncertainty. “And that’s two questions.”
“Sorry, I’m not used to playing games when I’m tending bar,” you said, topping up his glass again before glancing towards his friends. “And, on that note...”
Again, you felt his eyes on you as you moved around the bar and headed to his friends, checking that everyone was having a good time and taking orders for fresh drinks.
“Think you’ve made the birthday boy’s night,” one of them said.
“Yeah, normally he slips out of his birthday parties after the first hour,” another commented, and they all laughed.
And, as you made your way back towards the bar (towards him), you couldn’t help but wonder what his birthdays were usually like.
“Hope they weren’t giving you any trouble,” he said as you slipped behind the bar and put the empty glasses you’d gathered to the side so you could start getting fresh drinks.
“No, you’ve all been perfect gentlemen,” you said, smiling at him, your face obviously showing some degree of relief because he quickly commented on it.
“Are there times when guys aren’t gentlemen?” He asked.
There was something in his tone, a hint of - what? - protectiveness, or anger maybe. 
“Sometimes, but that’s what Rocky is for,” you said, nodding your head towards the door.
“The big guy?” He asked and you nodded. “Yeah, I wouldn’t fancy my chances with him.”
Filling a tray with the fresh drinks, you went back to the table and passed them around before heading back to him again, taking up the spot on the opposite side of the bar from him, leaning your elbow on the bartop.
“So,” you said, almost decidedly, “want to tell me why you’re spending your birthday night out talking to me and not with your friends?”
He seemed to hesitate, but only for a split second.
“I thought it was my turn.”
“It is,” you conceded, “if you want to keep playing, but I think you might enjoy your birthday more if you spent it with friends.”
“We could be friends.”
“Friends don’t check out each other's asses, handsome.”
“Oh, so you’ve been checking out my ass?” He said as a grin tugged at his lips.
“What can I say?” You shrugged. “Something about men in well tailored pants drives me wild.”
The birthday boy let out another laugh, and it was such a happy sound that he drew glances from his friends, all of them wondering just what it was you’d said to manage to get a response like that from him.
He grabbed his glass and got to his feet.
“This isn’t over, Bunny,” he said before heading towards his friends.
Over the rest of the night, you found yourself watching him, always coming up with a teasing or playful remark whenever you went across to get them fresh drinks (oh, you wanted a drink, I just thought you wanted to stare at my ass again and I know how much you enjoy watching me walk away).
And he watched you, too.
Your skin prickled with goosebumps under his attention and you quickly came to love the sensation. Never in all your time working at The Red Ribbon had you felt such a connection with a guest, and you probably never would again.
So, when they all finally stood to leave, you felt a pang of regret - you shouldn’t have sent him back to his friends, you should have kept him with you so you could talk more.
Each of the guys said their thanks, each dropping bills into the tip jar by the door on their way out.
One of them stopped and looked at you, a smirk on his lips. “Thanks. I dunno what you said to him but I ain’t seen him like this in a long time.”
Your heart stuttered, not sure what it was you could have done to inspire such a change in a man you didn’t even know.
You noticed him linger as the door swung shut behind the last of his friends and, at any other time, that would be cause for concern but something told you that you weren’t in danger. Not from him. 
“Something else I can help you with?” You asked, as playful as ever.
“Plenty,” he said, his smile dropping a little. “But everything I want would break the rules, and the last thing I want is to get banned when there’s a chance I might see you again.”
It was sweet how oddly accepting he was of how things were, how they had to be. It made it harder to watch him walk away knowing that you might not see him again. You’d never felt such an instant connection with a stranger before, especially not a stranger who’d seen this side of you, a stranger who knew what you did for a living and didn’t judge you for it.
Against your better judgement, you leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, dangerously close to the corner of his mouth, before pulling back slightly. You lingered close, watching the way the corner of his lip ticked upwards and heard the slightest catch of his breath.
“Well, here’s hoping you can tell who I am the next time you see me,” you offered in little more than a whisper.
Slowly, cautiously, his hand lifted to your face and you felt your heart skip a beat. It was the barest of touches, so light that he might not have even touched you at all, but you felt a warmth spread across your skin nonetheless.
“I’ll know, Bunny,” he said with a certainty that sent a shiver down your spine. “I’m gonna find you again.”
“Promises, promises,” you joked, wanting to keep the mood light, knowing that the odds of seeing him again were small. And, with that thought, you found yourself leaning forward again, this time pressing your lips to his for the briefest of seconds. “Something to remember me by.”
Then you stepped back, creating space between your body and his, a silent signifier that the night was over.
“I will find you,” he said again. “I always get what I want, Bunny, one way or another.”
“Happy birthday, handsome,” you said, avoiding answering his comment.
He gave you one last look, drinking in the sight of you from head to toe, and you felt your whole body warm in response. Then he left, leaving you alone with your racing heart and the promise that you’d see him again. 
It should have worried you; the way he’d spoken to you, the way he’d been looking, and the fact that he wanted to find you again. But it didn’t. Instead of worry, all you felt was want, even if you knew that the man behind the mask might be someone completely different. Even if you knew the man behind the mask probably wouldn’t be interested in who you were when you weren’t playing Bunny.
Later that night as you laid in bed, your vibrator between your thighs and his dark eyes in your mind, you wondered what he was doing. Your eyes closed tight, picturing him standing over you, watching as you fucked yourself. He’d smile that playful smile down at you and slowly grip his cock - and, fuck, his cock was probably as perfect as the rest of him.
You longed to know what he looked like beneath the mask and beneath the expensive clothes.
You wanted to know what it felt like to be touched by him, for him to kiss you and hold you. For him to fuck you.
No matter what you imagined as you slid the vibrator in and out your body, your thoughts continued to return to one thing; his eyes. You wanted to get lost in them, wanted to make him laugh and see them sparkle. You wanted to see them darken with need as he fucked you and took what he wanted from you.
I always get what I want, he’d told you. And he wanted you.
A loud moan tore from your lips as you came, your whole body shivering with pleasure at the thought of this strange and alluring man getting what he wanted from you.
Then, with a heavy sigh, you sank back on your bed and curled up, the usual feelings of insecurity quickly filling you again.
He’d probably forget all about you; everything he’d said had probably just been to try and get something more than you’d been prepared to give. He’d probably already forgotten you...
Little did you know that, across town, Billy Russo was fisting his cock to thoughts of you without knowing it was you he was thinking of, his hand stroking up and down his length as he stood in the shower. He jerked off to thoughts of your body, your laugh, your smile. He pictured all the ways that he wanted you, his Bunny, all the things he wanted to do.
Your plump and pretty lips would look good wrapped around his cock, and your plush thighs would no doubt feel amazing wrapped around his head as he feasted on your cunt. 
He licked his lips for what must have been the hundredth time since you kissed him and was, yet again, disappointed that there was no lingering taste of you.
As he came, he knew that he had to have you. He would find you again, and he would make you his if it was the last thing he did.
A/N : I feel weird when I don't post on a Friday, so here's a new thing 😅 like I said at the start, this will just be a short, sweet thing (3 parts and done), but hopefully it'll be a lot of fun and a little bit more playful/light-hearted compared to Love, Sick Love. (And I promise no cliffhanger ending to this one 😅) If you've played TellTale's The Wolf Among Us, that's where I got the ribbon idea from (well that and that old ghost story... but no ones head is going to fall off in this, I promise).
As always, let me know if you want to be tagged. I'm not going to full commit to posting every Friday for this because I work in retail and, as you can imagine, it's hectic at the moment, but I want to try and post at least once a week since this is only going to be a short story.
Anyway, thanks for reading!
Also I can't remember if anyone else asked to be tagged in all future Billy stories, if I've missed you please shout at me.
Tag List : @lincerad @xxxsweetcarolinexxx
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ode-to-fury · 1 day ago
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A Moment's Peace
Just a very very short Rookanis drabble
He watched her, sometimes, when he knew she wouldn't notice.
It was stupid, useless. He did it anyway.
He watched as her eyes lit up with mirth at a joke Davrin made as they walked. Watched as a soft smile appeared on her face when she saw two children playing in the street, the dimple deeper in one cheek than the other, because her smile always pulled to the left. He watched as she frowned, two delicate lines appearing between her brows, and wished he could take away whatever was causing it. Watched as the Rivaini sun glinted off her golden hair, made her skin glow and her eyes shine.
Just then, he turned from the stove where he had been preparing their dinner, and saw her asleep on the couch across the room.
She'd been reading, keeping him company in one of the rare moments they had time to themselves, but it seemed she'd given up, and put the book on the floor, and curled up on her side, facing toward him.
He tried not to think about what that meant. The fact that she felt safe enough to sleep with him in the room. Failed, to keep that warmth from blooming in his chest at the thought.
Failed, to keep from watching her. For once, he didn't have to worry about her seeing his gaze linger, and it was with the hunger of a starving man that his eyes devoured her, roving over her face, trying to memorise the lines of it. The slant of her cheekbones, the arches of her brows, the exact slope of her nose, the shape of her lips. The way she seemed so much younger in sleep, at peace.
When the door opened, he didn't know how long he'd been standing there, simply looking.
"Evening, Lucanis," Emmrich greeted him cheerfully, then winced when Lucanis put a finger to his lips and drew Emmrich's attention to the couch.
"Ah," the older man said, smiling sheepishly, "Forgive me, I thought it was just you."
"The food is almost ready," Lucanis said, aware that Emmrich probably knew that. He was always the first to drift toward the dining room in the evenings.
"Should we wake her?" Emmrich asked him, stopping by the couch. Lucanis noticed the softening of his face as he looked down at her sleeping form. Had to bite down on Spite's exclamation of MINE, lest he startle everyone and wake her up.
My thought... OUR thought. MINE. OURS.
"Up to you," he said instead, keeping his voice carefully calm. "Perhaps, before the others come."
He didn't want anyone else to see her like this. Selfishly, he wanted to keep this to himself, the way her bottom lip pouted out slightly as she slept.
"Rook?" Emmrich said gently, bending down. He reached out to touch her shoulder. "Dinner is almost ready."
Her eyes shot open, and she sat up immediately, her hand reaching for a blade that was, thankfully, still in her room. Lucanis felt a wave of heat wash through the room as her magic gathered.
A moment later she relaxed, her grey eyes focusing on Emmrich's face, realising she was in the Lighthouse, not in danger.
He wondered what she'd been dreaming about.
"Emmrich?" She asked, her voice groggy in a way that settled somewhere low in Lucanis's gut. Even Spite shivered in satisfaction at the sound.
She reached up to rub her eyes, swinging her legs off the couch so she could sit.
"Dinner is almost ready," Emmrich said, smiling at her. "We thought it best to wake you before the others came in."
Her eyes flicked up to his own, and they softened around the edges. She knew it had been him that suggested it. Knew, and thanked him for it.
"Probably for the best," she said, stretched her arms up above her head. He could hear her spine pop even from across the room.
Emmrich held out a hand to help her up, and she took it, going so far as to curtsy in thanks. Lucanis felt his mouth twitch despite himself. Ridiculous.
Smells like... wanting and lying. Desire like a knife, like metal.
He frowned at the demon, then shook his head, taking the dish he was making off the fire.
"It's done," he declared, "Let it cool a little bit before you eat."
Rook pulled a face at him, and he grinned back. He couldn't help it.
When he knew she wasn't looking, he snuck another glance at her, trying to memorize the way her eyes twinkled with mischief.
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celli-ohs · 2 days ago
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I Can't, I Have Rehearsal
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pairing: socially awkward!park sunghoon x fem!reader
genre: high school au; crack, comedy, fluff
synopsis: What happens when you get seated right next to the most handsome boy in your entire grade? Well you thought it'd be a great excuse to get to know him better, but the guy won't even talk to you! After a mishap in the science lab, you come to find out that Park Sunghoon, the cold-hearted prince of EN High, isn't in fact rude, he's just afraid of women.
before you read: character profiles
warnings: language, stalking mention, cooties, wild subplot(s), loser enhypen, rickrolling, bad april fools pranks
word count: 3.62k
taglist (open): @ancnymcnzjy , @frankenstein852
note: part 1 of my and scene! series, loosely based off en-drama.
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Log 4: Monday - April 1st, 2024
“I’m gonna say it. Y/n has been getting on my nerves recently.”
Everyone snaps their necks to look at Riki like he’s just admitted to committing a crime.
“Excuse me?” Sunghoon is appalled. “That’s my friend!”
It’s been about a month since you and Sunghoon had begun his “girlducation” lessons (You named it, not him). And luckily he’s been faring well!
Everyone’s noticed how he’s more open and friendly, and just last week he was finally able to look his homeroom teacher in the eyes and have a full conversation (about how he’s failing Algebra 2).
Talking to his female classmates has gotten easier too. He can’t say much though, as he still gets nervous whenever the conversation gets too complex.
You’ve helped him make leaps and bounds regardless, and Sunghoon can proudly state you two are friends.
“Come on you guys, you know what I’m talking about,” Riki shakes his head, clicking his tongue.
“No. We don’t. What did she do to you?” Jongseong raises a brow. Riki groans, rubbing his face.
“Yeah, there’s no need to be angry at her.” Heesung adds.
“This is exactly why! You guys like her more than me, I’m being replaced!” Riki throws his hands up in the air.
“Uh, no duh we like her more,” Sunoo rolls his eyes. “She’s nicer, funnier, and she’s prettier.”
Riki gasps. “I can be pretty!” He crosses his arms. “I’m prettier than you!” This time Sunoo gasps. “You can’t say shit to me cause do you got some guy stalking you because he thinks your idol material? I think not bitch!”
“Stalker? Sunoo! I thought you got rid of that guy?!” Jaeyun pauses, now the attention is turned towards the younger boy.
“He’s been on my ass recently, he even knows my order at my favorite cafe.” He shrugs as if this isn’t a concerning matter.
“Oh that’s not…” Sunghoon makes a face, eyeing the others.
“That stupid Belift guy is so persistent. It’s like he doesn’t take no for an answer.” Sunoo sighs. They all look at each other, skeptical. "I’ll walk home with you today Sunoo,” Jungwon decides.
“Speaking of stalkers,” Jongseong clears his throat, turning to Riki. “You’re banned from my house.”
“What?” Heeseung squeaks out in shock.
“Oh, so you liked my April Fool’s prank?” Riki grins, dodging Jongseong’s fists. “You went and switched my alarm clock forward! I was on my way to Jungwon’s at 5am this morning,” Jongseong grumbles.
As the others laugh and praise Riki for his joke, Sunghoon laughs the hardest. “Maybe you should keep your clock that way, you won’t ever have to worry about your mom nagging you to leave on time anymore.”
Jongseong rolls his eyes. “Haha, very funny.”
“How did you even do that?” Jaeyun laughs. Riki waves him off, smiling proudly. “Just asked his mom if I could come over to change it really quick while he was at baseball yesterday.”
“My mom was in on it?!” Jongseong looks betrayed. The boys soon make their way inside their school building.
“I totally forgot today was April Fool’s! I should’ve planned something,” Heeseung laughs, opening his locker.
“Don’t worry, I’m just getting started, I’ve got something for all of you.” Riki sends them an ominous smile. “Heh, what do you mean?” Sunghoon tries to hide his fear with a smile.
“Nothing. Just think of today as karma for replacing me with Y/n,” Riki waves before he jogs down the hall, greeting his other friends.
“We never replaced you?!” Jungwon shouts at him, sounding worried. “Oh my god, I’m scared, what if I open my locker and there’s like a dead rat or something?” Sunoo whines.
“No, Riki’s not like that,” Heeseung shakes his head, before turning to the others. “Uh, right?”
“Last year he put ink on my glasses, so when I took them off I had lines all over my face and hands, no one said anything till lunch!” Sunghoon reminds the others.
“In middle school we shared a class, I fell asleep and he clipped a hair extension to the back of my head. No one told me I had a mullet until I got home and showered.” Jungwon recites, shuddering as his fingers ghost over the back of his neck.
“He gets bolder every year, and somehow he convinces people to help him. I think he’s bribing them somehow.” Jongseong concludes.
“What if I just skipped school today? Huh? Anyone wanna join me?” Jungwon tempts the others. “No! If I have to be here, so do you. Plus it’s unfair that only I got pranked so far.” Jongseong huffs.
“Don’t worry Heeseung,” Jaeyun comforts the oldest. “You’re new, Riki will probably go the easiest on you.”
Heeseung doesn’t look pleased by this. As his friends try to figure out a way they can prevent Riki’s chaos from unfolding, Sunghoon slinks off down the hall to a certain locker.
You stand with your back towards him, talking animatedly with your friend Taehyun. As Sunghoon approaches, he signals Taehyun to keep quiet with a finger to his mouth.
“Boo!” He grabs you by the shoulder, causing you to jump. “Ah! Sunghoon!” You huff, punching him lightly in the arm. “Don’t do that!” You smile nonetheless.
“April Fool’s,” Sunghoon grins. You wave him off, your fingers grazing his own. He feels his ears heat up.
“I’m gonna get you later. You better watch out.” You warn him, but Sunghoon only smiles, shaking his head.
Suddenly, Taehyun clears his throat, reminding the two of you that you weren’t alone. “I’m gonna find Hyuka, see you later.” He waves to the both of you before departing.
But before he turns around, Taehyun sends you a wink, causing you to stiffen up.
“What was that?” Sunghoon asks, eyes trained on the back of Taehyun’s head. “Huh? Nothing, let’s get to class.” You cough, pushing Sunghoon down the hall.
“You remembered to do your slides, right?” You ask Sunghoon as you two sit down in your seats. “Yeah, it wasn't that hard.” He nods.
Your history class has just finished a project, and today everyone will be presenting. It was a solo project, but you and Sunghoon helped each other out.
“You’ll be okay talking up there by yourself?” You worry. Sunghoon feels special to know that you of all people care about him. A few days ago you’d voiced your concern to him about his fear or public speaking (around women).
“I think so, I usually just look at Jaeyun.” Sunghoon admits, shrugging.
“Well if you need to, you could look at me.” You suddenly suggest. Sunghoon feels the heat from his ears spread to his cheeks. “O-Okay.” He nods, focusing on his desk.
Even after all his training, you somehow had a way with words that could cause Sunghoon to shut right up again.
Not just that, you still made him nervous, there were moments he found you too beautiful to even look in your direction.
Home room goes by like a breeze, and soon enough it’s time for history, and one by one students begin to present their topics in the front of class.
“Park Sunghoon.” Mr. Song calls out, and Sunghoon awkwardly stands up, grabbing his notes.
“Good luck!” You send him an encouraging smile and a thumbs up. Just that alone made him feel invincible.
With newfound confidence, Sunghoon strides to the front, pulling up his powerpoint on the history of soybeans. But when he turns to his fellow classmates, his ego disappears and he’s suddenly reminded of how many eyes were on him.
He begins to panic, his words stuck in his throat and his thoughts become sludge. Everyone was looking at him. Everyone was whispering.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“Why is he taking so long?”
“Soybeans? That’s so boring.”
He can hear his teacher call out his name, asking him if he’s alright, but Sunghoon feels as if he’s been nailed to the ground, unable to move.
But as he focuses on his feet, he hears someone clear their throat loudly, his eyes shooting up.
You’re smiling. At him.
“You can do it!” You mouth, cheering him on. Suddenly it’s like he can breathe again. He can feel his body moving finally. All thanks to you of course.
“T-Today I’ll be talking about the history of soybeans in Korea.” Sunghoon announces suddenly, eyes trained on you.
You lean back into your seat, smile never disappearing as you listen intently.
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“Where the hell is Riki?! I’m gonna kill him.�� Jaeyun stomps over to the lunch table. Heeseung shrugs, mouth full of food.
“He’s not here, what happened?”
Jaeyun groans as he sits down, Sunghoon also taking his seat beside him. “He got Rickrolled.”
Jungwon snorts, choking on his food as he laughs. Jaeyun glares, picking at his lunch. “It’s not funny! He cost me my grade!”
“Pfft! Mr. Song docked you 10 points, you still have an A.” Sunghoon reminds him. The youngest of the bunch somehow got control of Jaeyun’s presentation, adding a bunch of memes into his slides.
“And ruined my 100 streak!” Jaeyun whines. “He won’t let me take any extra credit.” He sighs, letting his hunger take over as he shovels food into his face.
“Never gonna give you up! Never gonna let you down! Never gonna run around and desert you!” Riki sings and dances as he arrives at their table. He’s grinning from ear to ear, all the while Jaeyun glares mid-chew.
“Come on Jaeyun!” Riki nudges him. “Sing it with me! Never gonna make you cry-” He’s cut off when Jaeyun lunges at him, catching the boy in a headlock. “Nev-never gonna tell- a lie- ack!” Riki coughs as he continues to sing under Jaeyun’s grip.
“Shut up!” Jaeyun angrily sneers, just as Riki wriggles out of his arms. “Dude,” Riki is breathless. “Put on some deodorant or something! I almost died.” He gags.
“I’m seriously going to kill-”
Jongseong slams down his hand onto the table, making everyone jump.
“Uh, you good?” Jungwon eyes him. Jongseong zeroes in on him, his eyes ablaze. “No I am not good, Yang Jungwon.”
“Uh oh, cat fight,” Sunoo snickers to Sunghoon, earning a chuckle.
“Did I do something?” Jungwon eyes the others, before realizing Jongseong was only looking at him. “What do you think, Yang?!”
Jongseong suddenly digs into his pants pocket, and pulls out a crumpled piece of paper, tossing it to the first year. Jungwon catches it with ease, unraveling it suspiciously.
“Oh my God.”
“What? What is it? Show me!” Sunoo snatches the paper, his eyes reading as fast as lightning before he lets out a yelp, covering his mouth as he gawks at Jungwon.
“You’re being dramatic,” Sunghoon finally grabs the paper, sharing it with Jaeyun as Heeseung leans over the table to peer.
The paper turns out to be a list, and it has various names on it, including Jongseong’s and Jungwon’s. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. That is until he reads the title.
“How could you go behind my back and run for Student Council?! You knew I was applying!” Jongseong shouts.
“I didn’t!” Jungwon holds his hands up in the air. “Dude I promise, I think there’s been a mistake, I never even applied to be nominated!”
Jongseong eyes him, but concedes, looking just as confused. “But that doesn’t make sense. You can’t not know you’re running- for Student Body President!”
“Yeah, and to think you’re only running for Treasurer,” Jaeyun jabs. He earns himself a kick to the shin from Jongseong.
Riki is the only one who laughs, though it lingers longer than it should have, prompting suspicion.
“What did you do?” Jungwon questions. The youngest is too busy hugging his sides as he cackles.
“Oh my God! I’m gonna piss myself, you should have seen your face!” Riki wheezes.
“Riki, what did you do?!” Jongseong demands. After a few minutes, the boy’s laughter subsides. “We nominated Jungwon cause he fell asleep in homeroom,” He giggles.
“What?! Riki be serious.”
“Okay,” Riki shrugs. “Technically, I nominated Jungwon, but then everyone else voted for him. I found out the announcements were the same day as April Fool’s and thought it’d be a sick prank.”
“Someone’s feeling sick alright, me, that’s who.” Jongseong sighs. Sunoo pats his arm out of sympathy.
“Jongseong, dude, no one’s gonna actually vote for Jungwon.” Riki scoffs. “What kind of idiot votes a first year as their president?”
“The same idiots who voted for him to be a nominee?” Heeseung reminds him. Riki pauses. “That’s beside the point! Don’t worry, this will all blow over when they see how incompetent he is.”
“Hey! I’m competent!” Jungwon huffs. “I just choose not to be!”
“Make that your slogan, and you might just lose!” Sunoo teases. Jungwon rolls his eyes, rubbing his face.
“Hey guys! I heard the great news, congratulations!” Your sweet voice brings sudden joy to Sunghoon as you greet them all.
“Y/n!” He suddenly shoves Jaeyun to the side to make space for you to sit, causing both him and Riki to topple over. He ignores their complaints as you squeeze yourself in right next to him.
You finally take a good look around the table once you’re settled in.
Sunoo mindlessly picks at his food, beside him Jungwon seems to be experiencing his first ever existential crisis. Jongseong has a vice grip on a very beaten up piece of paper and Heeseung is too busy eating to notice the tension as Jaeyun keeps muttering about his grades. And Riki is blatantly glaring daggers at you.
The only person who seems relatively happy is Sunghoon.
“You guys seem to be having a really, uh- interesting day so far.” You cough. “As if you know what it’s like to be interesting- Ow! Jaeyun elbowed me!” Riki tattles.
“And you deserve it.” Jongseong sneers.
“Tough crowd today,” You whisper to Sunghoon as the others begin to bicker. “Yeah, Riki’s been burning some bridges, lately” He nods.
“Oh? Should I be worried?” You eye the boy, who is in fact now glaring even harder. “No.” Sunghoon shakes his head, trying to remain calm as you lean closer to him. “Um, maybe actually? Yes. Yes you should.” He finally decides.
“Uh huh.” You nod warily. “Well anyways, I was just wondering how you guys plan to run your campaigns? I have some experience since I helped last year when Taehyun was Secretary, and now he’s running for Vice President.”
Jongseong sits up straight, putting on a presentable smile. “I plan on winning by showing my responsibility and care for the students here at EN-High.”
The table goes quiet.
“Was that AI? Sounded like something ChatGPT wrote,” Heeseung looks around. “What? No! I’m trying to sound professional.” Jongseong sighs.
“Well I plan to drop out, I didn’t even want to be nominated, but someone thinks it’s funny to prey on the innocent.” Jungwon stares right at Riki, who is busy scrolling through his phone uninterested.
“I saw an opportunity and I took it, can you blame me?” He shrugs. “Yes! Yes, I can!” Jungwon shouts.
“Okay, so it sounds like both of you are losing.” You mutter beneath your breath. “Look, word of advice: students really value honesty and the ability to be realistic. People like it when you tell the truth.” You explain.
“Didn’t Taehyun win last year because he did magic tricks instead of a speech?” Sunghoon frowns. “Oh! I remember him! He was so cool! How did he pull that chicken out of that hat?!” Heeseung asks excitedly.
“He did have a speech, he just did his magic tricks after.” You correct him. “Also it was a parrot, not a chicken.”
“What does magic have to do with being on the student council?” Sunoo asks, looking confused. “If I vote for Taehyun, can he magically fix my grade back to 100?” Jaeyun questions. “Do you think if I partner with Taehyun, I have a better chance of winning?” Jongseong turns to you.
You hold your hand up to silence them, before looking at each of them individually.
“Apparently more than you’d think.” You say to Sunoo, before shaking your head at Jaeyun. “No, just take the L.”
“And yes, but only if you’re okay with him doing the Sawing-In-Half trick on you during the debate.” You tell Jongseong, who looks pale now.
Before you can say any more, the warning bell rings, signaling lunch would be over in five minutes. “Alright, see you guys later,” You stand up, getting out of your seat. “Let me know if you need more advice.” You joke.
“I’ll see you in class?” Sunghoon asks, as if you two weren’t seatmates. You laugh, and teasingly pat his arm, causing his whole body to burn.
“Yeah, see you!” You wave, running off. He watches you as you return to your friends at your table across the cafeteria, his heart swelling.
“Oooh! Someone’s got a crush!” Sunoo suddenly giggles.
Sunghoon feels his stomach turn excitedly, his ears burning a bright red. “Shut up!” He mumbles, covering his face.
His friends begin to tease him, Sunghoon shakes his head furiously, though he peeks through his hands to glance at you once more.
When you laugh at something Kai says, he begins to wonder if his friends are on to something.
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“Ta-da!”
You’re grinning as you flip your paper around to present to Sunghoon.
He looks up, blinks, then frowns.
“You like to eat stomachs?” He reads your calligraphy. “Huh? No, I like to eat pears.” You look at your paper yourself, confused.
Sunghoon begins to laugh, before standing up to walk around the table to your side. “You need to press down lightly on this character.” He instructs, leaning over you.
Instead of taking your brush like he usually did when he showed you the correct way, he grabbed your hand.
“L-Like this,” He stutters, leaning even closer to you as you allow him to guide you on the paper. Your hand is really small compared to his own, his fingers are almost half as long.
Your skin is soft and warm, he doesn't want to let go.
“Oh!” You suddenly exclaim, and he jumps back, releasing your hand.
“So that’s how you do it? Let me try again.” You begin to attempt again on your own. He watches over you as you try your best, all of your focus on your calligraphy.
He finds the way you scrunch your face up as you focus endearing, you’ve made a lot of progress.
Your reattempt is still not the best, but Sunghoon can admit this time he could actually read it. “You’re doing a lot better,” He says as he returns to his seat. “Really? I’ve been practicing at home,” You admit.
“You’ve been practicing?” Sunghoon repeats, surprised at your dedication. If he were being honest, he thought your interest in calligraphy was only confined to the old library.
“Yeah,” You smile, getting shy. “I want to show you my best.”
Oh.
The two of you keep eye contact as Sunghoon feels his face and ears begin to heat up. He was probably red all over from just that one compliment. Didn’t help that you looked gorgeous while staring at him.
“I-I think-uh- You’re doing a really good job so far.” He finally looks away, his nerves getting the best of him.
“Thank you.” You hum, smiling to yourself. “Oh, it’s already almost four, we should probably get going.” You say, and begin cleaning up.
The two of you quickly grab your stuff and sweep down the table before heading out.
Outside the sun is still bright, yet it’s lower in the sky than before. You both walk down the street, shoulder to shoulder. Every time you bump into each other, Sunghoon feels his heart race.
“Hey, want one?” You suddenly ask, opening your palm to reveal two pieces of creamy milk candy. The bright bunny logo catches his eye.
The idea of sharing candy with you is exhilarating to Sunghoon. Your sweet nature mimicked the sweetness of the candy awaiting before him.
“Thank you,” He smiles at you, letting his fingers graze your palm.
Together you two unwrap the candies, poppin them into your mouths. Sunghoon takes a bite and-
“What the fuck?!” You spit your candy back into its wrapper, face contorted in absolute disgust. Sunghoon doesn’t hesitate to do the same, gagging as he does so.
“This is a crayon!” Sunghoon grimaces, wiping his mouth with his handkerchief. “Where the hell did you get these?!”
You shake your head, trying to get the taste out of your mouth, but to no avail. “I don’t- I don’t remember I just- Riki handed some to me, and-”
“Wait,” Sunghoon interrupts you. “Riki gave you these?”
You nod, first confused, then realizing what he meant. “Oh my god I’m so stupid.” You groan. “I should have known when he randomly apologized to me, he even suggested I share them with you!”
“He’s always one step ahead,” Sunghoon glares into the distance. “Ugh I can’t get the taste out of my mouth!” You spit.
“I swallowed a little, will I die?” He worries, voicing his concern. “I need water- juice, I need something!” You look around for a vending machine.
“There! A Family Mart!” Sunghoon points down the road. He turns to you with an eager expression, holding his hand out to you.
“Come on, let’s go!” He urges. You hurriedly grab his hand, and the two of you run down the street, groans of disgust soon turning into giggles of excitement.
Sunghoon's lesson he learned today was that he doesn’t mind holding your hand. In fact, he likes it.
He likes you.
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Log 3: Wednesday - March 6th, 2024 | Log 5: Wednesday - May 15th, 2024
I Can't, I Have Rehearsal masterlist | and scene! series masterlist | kpop masterlist
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stump-not-found · 2 days ago
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i <3 creepy hallway
creepy hallway number one <3
alright time for more home life stuff . the bedroom scene came up as a way of trying to reintegrate the gold statue from earlier, since i just really love trying to find old elements and tie them in as plot relevant as time goes on . not usually planned, but it comes through during the editing stage, which is a fun game of deciding what scenes to keep, and which to get rid of . i wasn't so certain about this one, but i loved the idea of baby ford interacting with mabel, who's slightly older... i need to draw art of it, honestly . they're cute
it's really gratifying seeing people pick up on what i've been setting up as part of ford and the statue, the fact i was able to effectively communicate something going on means the world to me . the rest of the story is gonna dig into it more so i won't lay it all out here, but it really is so much fun . makes the whole writing process feel so communicative when people share thoughts and interpretations . especially when the scenes are meant to be read into !
we also get the closet yay . sure that's not gonna be important at all
writing the kids big blow up fight was a trip and a half . the original vision was a pretty shallow "we're stressed out and out grunkles should stop being mean to each other :(", just as a way to try and push forward the dynamics between ford and stan . that still exists, it's just a lot more focus being put onto the kids themselves . they're tertiary characters for sure, but i like thinking about their home life, and how that impacts them
one of the challenges is trying to have the fight feel fairly balanced between the two of them . shoutouts to my brother and wife for the full ass socratic seminar we had about threading that needle . how do you get a conversation where a young trans boy is trying to discuss his fears about his life and his body, and keeps getting shut down ? how do you balance that with a little girl who feels like it's her job to be the sweet, happy, emotionally intellegent adult in the room ? i'm happy with the end result but boy was it stressful
bill also wasn't gonna be here but i wanted more bill so . he got to come back . i really liked tying in nick with the spit to the little chats their having in the paradox dimension . love the lil hand pinch that was just a treat for meeeee, i get to be indulgent in my fics as much as i want . i also like the fact that ford is under some indescribable pain that entire time . they got a dynamic in this story that makes me laugh .
you know whats funny is i didn't even realize ship of theseus was a paradox writing a lot of the stuff about paradoxes . for some reason i just stumbled into that one . very funny . or, no wait -- i totally knew the entire time my brain is the size of three (3) whole apples
oh man and the entire lab scene i just loved writing . i love including bathroom breaks . i love dipper's poor hygiene . i love the fact the kids traded gold for soda, they're such perfect lil con men in training . and again the whole talk about star trek was so indulgent and fun
the brothers grew up queer in the 60's/70's and that's a major part of their arc . i hope to get across the ways they both hurt each other both as kids and adults . they still got so much to work on, and i just don't know if they've got the time
anyways creepy hallway bill time
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favorite part:
“Clark.” Ford stiffens, stops. Looks up. “What?” “That, uh, captain guy. The one with the, he had the big, you know–” Stan gestures over his chest, puffing his pecs out a bit more. “Always had em out, shirt cut off or whatever. Got all hot and sweaty. Great hair.” “...Kirk?” Ford turns in his seat, slightly, to get a better look at his brother. Stan clicks his tongue, points his index finger in recollection. “ Kirk .” He repeats, and the image of the guy blooms in Stan’s head. Ford had a magazine with him on the cover, about as disheveled and beat up as a guy could look, shirt torn open. That particular mag went ‘missing’ into Stan’s stash, and he laughs at that old memory getting drudged up. “I, uh. Was a fan , back then.”
i just love how neither one of them can say what they're talking about out loud lol
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Stan and Ford have a conversation, Mabel and Dipper get a bit absurd, and something gold is given meaning.
If you don't look, you won't see it fading.
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novvabee · 3 days ago
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Training for the Ballet Potter?🩰
summary: James Potter x Reader, James takes a ballet class and crushes on the teacher (you)
cw: sexist remarks? it is kind of just gender stereotypes of ballet I guess, i didn't proof read this so just pretend it's good for me
word count: 2.6K
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James thought that he might actually quit. This was ridiculous in every sense of the word. It was humiliating and a cruel punishment for sure.
His quidditch coach had the brilliant idea of signing the whole team up for ballet classes. Ballet, as in, turns and tiptoes and tights. This was emasculating to him, so beneath his training and dedication to the sport he should be practicing. 
His coach announced the classes on the last day of spring training. He stated that they were to attend every class until their season starts, no exceptions. He went on and on about how it would benefit the team to become more agile and graceful. But James didn’t understand the logic at all, he needed to be quick, strong, sturdy. Not exactly what ballerinas are known for. 
His coach emphasized the fact that these lessons were mandatory by stating that those who fail to attend would be cut from the team. He was not joking. A few of his teammates tried to protest, but his coach made the ultimatum. He said that if they wanted to be professionals and play on this prestigious team, they would learn grace and elegance in their training.
James loved and valued his position on the team, so he wasn't so fast to say no to these lessons. He was also trying to become captain of the team this year, and pretending to be excited and grateful for these lessons seemed like a way to earn him some brownie points.
So he pretended to the best of his abilities, he got the team together to encourage or change their attitudes, saying that it would be a great experience for the summer and that it was only three months of these lessons. Well, two lessons every week for three months, but that still wasn’t too bad.
When the coach overheard some of the team still complaining about ballet, he made them run and condition until half of them were throwing up. He was not here to play about these lessons.
“Got your leotard?” Sirius teased James from the couch. He had his head resting in Remus’s lap. 
James had lived with his two best friends since the end of school and he couldn’t be happier. Well, he could do with a little less of the making out and the groping he would catch every now and then, but he couldn’t blame them both, they were happy and in love. He just… didn’t need to see it all the time. And now, he didn’t need to be teased to add insult to injury.
“No.” James replied, rolling his eyes. He grabbed his red workout bag with his team’s logo from the opposite couch that his friends were sitting on and slung it over his shoulder.
“I think it’ll be good for you, Prongs,” Remus chimed in, “You could learn a thing or two about grace.”
James again rolled his eyes. He wasn’t in the mood, he was sore from yesterday’s practice, and was now about to prance around like an idiot for an hour.
“I just need to get through this,” James said. “I want to look good when my coach is choosing captains this season.” 
“Anything for that position, eh, Prongsie?” Sirius chuckled from Remus’s lap. “Look on the bright side though, you’ll be surrounded by fit girls in tight clothes and tiny skirts.” 
Remus smacked the top of his head for the comment, earning an ‘ouch’ and small apology. Remus rolled his eyes this time, annoyed by his lover’s crude statement.
James supposed that there was that to look forward to, he would never say it out loud like Sirius, but he was… intrigued by the idea. His male teammates were all put into the Monday/Wednesday classes with a strict teacher apparently. He was selected for the Tuesday/Thursday classes, which he found out were much smaller and taught by a new, younger teacher. A few of his teammates made sure to let him know how lucky he in fact was, the Monday/Wednesday teacher sounded like a hard-ass and a mean old witch.
Another bright side of the classes was that he would be with Marlene, one of his best friends on the team. If he had to endure this torture, he was glad to do it with her at least. It was actually Marlene who was picking him up so they could go to the lesson together. She should be here in about… now.
James bid farewell to his friends and raced out the door before any of the last minute teasing could make it to his ears, and rushed out to where Marlene was waiting in her car for him.
“Hey,” he greeted her, sliding into the passenger seat of her car which felt much too tiny for him to squeeze into. 
“Ready for the ballet Potter?” she giggled, wiggling her brows as she put the car in drive. James found it quite humorous, the two of them, going to their first ballet lesson. The two of them who look like they should keep far away from anything to do with ballet. James, who was a 6’1 burly man with all the elegance of a rhino and knocked into possibly every piece of furniture he owned on a daily basis, and Marlene, with chipped black nails and a self-cut mullet who looks like she would eat the posh little ballerinas for lunch.
Sooner than he would have liked, they reached the dance studio. Marlene parked and they both just sat there for a moment breathing in deep. He turned to her and saw the look that he himself was wearing. One of regret and annoyance. 
“Come on Marls, it's an hour and then we’re done.’’ James reminded her. 
She groaned but opened her door and slipped out.
They both made their way to the door of the building. He opened it and allowed Marlene to walk through first, pretending that it was just a courteous, gentlemanly thing to do, but in all reality, he was just holding onto any time he could have left not doing ballet.
He stepped into the building and into a crowded area with chairs and fake plants, a waiting room for the parents coming to pick up their little ballerinas from lessons. The waiting room was littered with moms scrolling on their phones and looking at their watches. Great.
James and Marlene had to wait for the teacher to come get them and escort them into the correct studio. Marlene plopped herself in a chair and motioned for James to do the same, but he just stood and lingered around the area.
James heard a door open and the chatter and giggles of many children. He heard many “Thank you miss Y/N”s and “Bye miss Y/N”s followed by a flood of little girls all dressed in colorful leotards and skirts filling the waiting room. The children all ran up to their respective mothers and told them about their lesson and how nice their new teacher was and that they all got stickers and how fun everything was. Some of the little girls eyed James and Marlene up and down, Marlene just stared back until the girls got scared and ran over to their adult.
As soon as the chaos broke into the little waiting room, it left. The last little girl put on her pink sparkly light up shoes and bounded out the door with her parent. This reassured everything that James had already felt; that this was useless, meant for little girls. Definitely not quidditch players, definitely not James.
He heard the door open again and turned to see a small woman, about his age, walk out with a clipboard. Her hair was pulled up into a bun. She was clad in a pink leotard and matching pink skirt, light pink tights, and pink ballet shoes. She was pretty, not in a typical perfect ballerina way, but in an entirely different way. James was definitely not expecting someone like her to be in a studio like this, let alone to be teaching.
Her eyes snapped up from what she was reading on her clipboard and instantly lit up.
“Oh hello!” she squeaked. “Are you two here for the 4:00 class?” 
“Uh, yeah.” James replied.
“Perfect! You’re right on time. I’m Y/N, by the way, I’ll be your instructor. You can follow me right in here to studio B.” she said, motioning them to follow her down the hall to the studio. Marlene stood and the both followed. “And here we are,” She said, turning on the light switch, allowing for a better view of the studio.
It was a very small room with light hardwood floors, mirrors lining the back wall. There were mats stacked up in the corner and two parallel bars mounted on the two walls without mirrors.
“You two can go ahead and set your stuff on the wall with the mirrors and then we can get started with stretching.” she announced chipper.
“Aren’t we going to wait for the rest of the class to show up?” Marlene asked from beside James.
“Oh no, you two are the whole class.” She smiled. “You can think of it more like a private lesson, more one on one.”
Private ballet lessons… Sirius was going to have a field day. He looked over at Marlene who just shrugged and made her way to the mirror wall to set her stuff down. James followed.
“It’s just us?” James whisper yelled to Marlene, trying not to let the instructor hear. 
“Is that a problem?” Marlene asked back. “She’s hot.”
James just huffed and pulled off his jacket, tossing it in his bag. 
“Look Potter, think of it this way,” She tried to reason with him, “Now there’s less people to look like an idiot in front of. All of the embarrassing moves will stay just between us three.” She smiled and James nodded his head, feeling like maybe it was a blessing to be in such a small class. “But… I can’t promise I won't make fun of you or use it against you.” She joked.
“Alright, are you both ready?” Y/N asked sweetly. They both nodded and made their way to the center of the room where she was waiting for them. “Alright first things first, welcome to ballet! My name is Y/N, you don't have to call me Miss or anything like the little ones do, just Y/N is fine” She said, her eyes glowing.
 Marlene was right, she was hot. But James wouldn’t be that forward about it, she was incredibly beautiful. If James could do with a touch of grace, she was bathed in it, dripping in it. She radiated confidence and elegance. James didn’t know what to do with his hands all of a sudden.
“I understand that your coach has signed you both up?” She asked. Marlene nodded in confirmation. “Ok, that is perfectly fine, we teach a lot of different athletes here at this studio. But in all honesty, I am a bit new to all of this,” She blushed, looking to the floor, “I mostly work with beginner classes and children so, bear with me.” 
She looked back at them and smiled. “Now, usually we require ballet shoes, but I won't require them for you two, socks or barefoot will be just fine.” she explained. “It is also better if you could wear things that are a little bit tighter. You don’t have to wear leos, but I need to be able to see the lines of your bodies better, so leggings, shorts, tank tops, those are all great!”
She was so cheery. Not only was she elegant and grateful, but kind and bubbly. James felt this warmth within the pit of his stomach now.
“Lastly, I want you two to have fun. I know that this is very different for you but, I promise I will make it as fun and educational for you so that you benefit the most that you can from this experience.” She finished, eyes sparking again.
“Alright with all that being said, let’s start our warm up!” she said.
Y/N led them through a series of stretches, most just like the ones they did at quidditch practice, others that were uncomfortable and pulled on his tight muscles. She assured them that with time, those stretches would get easier.
After, she led them to the bars mounted on one of the walls. She taught them the different positions of ballet; first, second, third, etc.. She taught them plies and releve, coupe and passe, and other French words he didn’t understand and would need to be repeated to him most likely all summer.
“Good Marlene.” James heard Y/N critique from where she was situated behind him. For all the gripe that she gave, Marlene was actually pretty decent at all this.
All of a sudden James felt hands on his abdomen and back, straightening his back into the correct posture. He was startled but continued on.
“There you go,” Y/N chuckled. “And..” she began but cut herself off by setting her hands atop his broad shoulders, pushing down on them. “You gotta relax, your shoulders are too tense. We don’t want them up by our ears,” She said, demonstrating to him by pulling her own shoulders up. “We want an elongated line from our neck and down our spine.” She explained, relaxing her shoulders and looking perfect. 
Next Y/N ran them through some basic turns and steps and they practiced by repeating them across the floor. James couldn’t believe this but, he was actually getting a pretty good workout. He was using muscles he didn’t even know he had, and he knew that if he dared mention that he was sore from ballet in front of Remus and Sirius, they would never let him live it down.
Time actually flew, and class was over before he knew.
“Great job today.” She said to them both, smiling as James caught her eye.
“I heard you give out stickers.” Marlene mentioned, mischief laced in her voice, making Y/N giggle. James loved the sound, decided that he wanted to do anything, everything in his power to hear that again. Hear it forever if he can.
She walked over to where her clipboard lay on the other side of the room, picked it up, then returned to where James and Marlene were now packing up. She peeled off a smiley face that said ‘awesome’ and placed it on Marlene’s shirt. Marlene smiled and started out the door. 
Y/N peeled another off, a star that said ‘you did great’ and placed it on James’s shirt. She pressed it into the fabric, making sure it stuck. James felt the warmth of her fingers radiate through his shirt and into his skin. 
He smiled at her and made his way after Marlene. He turned back to say “See you Thursday!”
She smiled back, waving goodbye to him and repeating that she would see them on Thursday.
Exiting the studio and climbing back into Marlene’s car, James couldn’t get rid of the goofy smile that etched itself into his face. Marlene looked at him and shook her head. “Don’t make it too obvious, Twinkletoes.” She mocked him with a new and reactive nickname.
“What are you talking about?” James asked, pulling his seatbelt on.
“Your little crush.” Marlene said plainly.
James wasn't going to deny it, so what if he had a little crush on the cute ballet teacher? She was gorgeous and so warm. He liked to see the passion in her eyes when she was explaining ballet to them. 
He couldn’t believe it and he would probably never say it out loud but he was excited for his ballet lesson on Thursday.
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i wrote this cause I miss ballet and love the athlete x ballerina trope. also ballerinas are in fact athletes, dance is a sport ❤️🎀🩰 also please let me know if you would like to be added to any tag lists
taglist 🍓: @navs-bhat
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