#BUT I DID GET CLOTHING FOLDS RIGHT minus the skirts

[biscuitfacegrey]

hmrrmmmmm. Lesbians, Trudy and Kelsey. Gayness

overheating.? is that a thing?

[yall-batman-fanfic]

Moving In | Batman/Bruce Wayne x Magician!Reader [Fluff]

Synopsis: Vivian and Bruce have been missing things in their homes. Having enough of the back and forth, and Bruce asking him about his tie or watch or socks, Dick tells them both to put on their grown-up pants and move in together. But moving in isn't that easy, especially for those who have been in the relationship for only a year and some change, especially when splitting the bills.

“Alfred, have you seen my blue tie?” Bruce asked as he settled on his seat at the table wearing his business suit minus the tie. 

Vivian and Dick were already getting a headstart with breakfast and were busy doing their own thing – Dick with a last minute essay and Vivian with the newspaper. Alfred walked in the room with two ties in hand, one red and the other black and said, “Last I recall you have more ties than the department store in the mall, Master Bruce, but it seems you have lost the rest and what remains are two. Take your pick.”

This wasn't the first time it happened, Bruce not finding pieces of his clothes and watches. For the past few weeks he’s been missing things in his drawers and couldn't remember where he put them. Which was uncharacteristic of him to do so. 

Vivian finally folded the newspaper and looked at Alfred and then at Bruce to see why he didn't just pick either when she saw the blue suit he wore. And she thought women had a short supply of blouses and skirts for their everyday work.

“I think I know where that suit's tie is,” Vivian said.

“Do you want to elaborate?” Bruce raised a brow at her.

“I did some cleaning at my place the other day and I swear I saw some mens’ ties in my condo. I think you left a couple of them at my place when you stayed over.”

Bruce sighed. “I doubt they're pressed.”

“I haven't visited my place this week, Bruce. Don't expect my neighbor to be that nice to do my laundry.”

“I'll pick you up from Gotham University so I can get them from your place.”

Dick snorted. “Yeah, like that will happen. Please, the most likely possibility that would happen is you staying the night over at Viv's and leaving another set of clothes there.”

When Bruce was about to retort, Alfred piped in and said, “Master Dick does have a point, Sir. I'm afraid that you are in your last pair of socks…”

“That's not right — I come home before my patrols –”

“Yeah, but for last week, you went straight to my place and changed there to your night-shift uniform, and then headed home,” Vivian pointed out.

“I think I'll need a bag for later,” Bruce muttered.

“By the way, have any of you seen my maroon blazer? I couldn't find it anywhere. I've been circulating with just brown, plaid, black, and beige.”

“And I thought Bruce has more blazers than an average person does,” Dick said to her.

“Kiddo, I don't have three sets of each of those colors. Bruce has, like, five sets for each color. So, if I lose one of those, I'll be repeating the same thing in the week. Catherine already noticed that I was wearing my tweed jacket thrice this week.”

“If I may, I believe I found that maroon blazer in the laundry last week. I've had it cleaned and pressed, along with our other clothings, and placed it in your personal closet, Professor Pryor,” Alfred told them.

“I have a closet here?” Vivian asked, quite surprised.

“Yes. You tend to leave quite a lot of personal items in the manor. I wasn't sure if it would be fitting to place it with Master Bruce's personal shelves, so I opted to place it on your own. In hopes of you noticing their absence, I was willing to pack them up for you, Professor.”

Vivian, Bruce, and Dick looked at the butler with a bewildered look. Everyone was silent until Dick said, “Why not just give them to her the next day?”

“Considering Professor Pryor's frequent stays in the Manor, I thought she was well aware of her clothings’ presence as I also prepared them for her morning.”

This time it was Vivian who spoke, “Thank you, Alfred. That is very appreciated, but I think I would — ” she turned to Bruce “-- I think I'll be heading back here later to get my things. I'll bring a bag with me to get all of them.”

Dick scoffed. “In other words, you’ll be back here to leave another set of clothes which you'll forget until you realize you ran out in your closet.”

“Thank you, Dick. For the encouragement that I will get my place in order again.”

Rolling his eyes, Dick got up from his seat, finished with his meal, and went to pack his things. “There is a way for you to stop missing your socks or ties or jackets.”

“And what is it?” Bruce questioned him but was not really interested in the answer as he was more focused on his breakfast.

Dick looked at the two with a deadpan look on his face and said, “Do you really need me to spell it out for you both? Move-in together! Jeez!”

“Uhh…” Vivian and Bruce turned to each other, quite unsure with what to say. While the former had a hesitant and more concerned look on her face, Bruce suddenly had an epiphany. Dick does have a point. Vivian has been staying longer in the Manor now with her being part of Batman's behind the scenes operations by helping Alfred in the Batcave, research, sometimes a consultant whenever the Riddler or King Tut would be their current adversary.  

“It's not really that easy,” Vivian was the first to speak. “I mean, we've only been dating for a…” she did some counting. “A year?”

“Three, Vivian,” Bruce told her.

“Oh, we have been that long now?” Vivian drank her coffee to hide her embarrassment. “I wasn't aware… time sure does fly.”

“We don’t really celebrate our anniversaries so I don’t really – really? Three years? That’s just… wow.”

Dick snickered. “Three years and you’re still going back and forth like a bunch of teenagers? Really?”

“Aren't you, like, thirteen? How would you know about relationships?” Vivian raised a brow at him.

“Fourteen. And I'm pretty sure that I'm the only one who's actually had a normal relationship. More normal than this household's current standards with villains, cats, demons, dark wizards, and a long list of models,” Dick teased them both but mostly Bruce as he saw the glare from his guardian.

“Shouldn't you be at school by now?” Bruce told him.

“I'm going!” Dick took his bag and lunch and went to the door with Alfred to take him to school. 

Once they heard the door close, Bruce sighed and turned to Vivian who found her coffee more interesting at the moment. “As much as I hate to say it but,” Bruce began waiting for her to turn to him and listen. “Dick has a point.”

“Moving in, Bruce? That's a huge step.”

“Vivian, we're practically living together by now with our current arrangement. And I think we're both adults to consider moving in together.”

Vivian placed down her coffee and sat facing him. “I guess if moving in is the case it's me who is going to uproot everything and come to the manor. Right?”

Bruce took her hand and brushed his thumb over her knuckles. “I don't think your landlord would appreciate having the Batcave there… but if you're not ready, I understand. Or we could find somewhere in Gotham –”

“Bruce, it was a joke. Of course, I’m open to moving in here with you. It's just that…”

“What?”

“I don't think I can keep up with the utilities or the maintenance or the groceries of this place. I've seen the cupboards and the refrigerator, and mine is like just half or a quarter of those things in your kitchen. I mean, my kitchen is like the size of Alfred's pantry.”

“You don't need to worry about all those things. I'll take care of those.”

“What? No. I can't just live here for free!” 

“Why not? Aren't we both –”

Vivian got up from her seat. “It's different. You letting me stay here is like me letting you stay at my place. I don't let you pay for things there just as you don't let me pay for things here. If I move in, it's just all you – and I can't take that. It'll be — it just won't feel right. You know?”

Bruce sighed. Pryor-Royce pride, he thought, remembering her family who came to visit from Liverpool. Specifically the conversation he had with her sister, Olivia Pryor-Royce who was now training in the army. 

“Why don't we discuss this after our day? We can sit down and talk about it and make an arrangement that will fit us both,” said Bruce.

“Yeah, that's a good idea,” Vivian sighed. “Besides, I need to go now. Shit, Alfred already left, I’ll call a cab.”

Another hurdle. The commute. Vivian would be spending a lot of money with a cab just to get to Gotham University from Wayne Manor.

“I'll drive you there.”

“It's off your route, Bruce.”

“We're not living together yet. For today, let me drive you without your conscience getting in the way.”

“Funny, really funny, Wayne.”

~*~

It was lunch and Vivian was eating with her colleagues in the cafeteria when she suddenly asked her married colleagues at the table with her, “When did you decide it was time to move in?”

Everyone paused in their meals and turned to her with a bewildered look. In that silence it was only Catherine, who was a few years older than her in age and tenure, and is married with kids, asked, “Why the question, Vivian?”

Vivian turned to them and noticed the confusion, “I think it’s pretty obvious why I’m asking, Catherine… Fine, just this morning, Bruce and I are having trouble with the inventory of our things. Some of his things are at my place and some of my things are with him. It was driving us crazy for the past few days, and Dick suggested that we just move in together so we avoid these kinds of things. Now we’re considering it.”

“Hold on,” Greg spoke. He was the eldest at their table with a balding head and thick glasses. “All this time you’re both not living together?”

“Yes. Yes, Greg, we haven’t been living together. What makes you think that we were in the first place – hold on, do all of you think we’ve been living together?”

“Yeah,” Justin said, “Billionaire-Bruce-Wayne takes you here and picks you up almost everyday now, and if not him then this butler. He even has a designated parking space, Via.”

“I see…” Looking back at it now, Vivian realized she hasn’t taken the bus in a while now. Hell, she doesn’t even know if there was a new schedule or there was something new in the train station too. She rarely sees Herb the Bus Driver or Herb the Creep who is stationed at 34th Street with his cart of worldly possession. She also hasn’t been wearing sneakers to work too, she goes straight to her heels or boots, her bag has also become heavier than usual with the work she brings home or with the lunches that Alfred packs for her. Along with the extra thermos of coffee that he would make willingly. 

And her hair. When was the last time she had to put it in a bun before fixing it in the university bathroom only so it wouldn’t get sooth or frizzy with the humidity and pollution, along with fixing her makeup in the university too.

When did she start not doing those things? She wondered, and she asked her colleagues that question. Their answers were:

“About a year ago?” Catherine asked.

“Two years, give or take,” said Greg.

“When did you both get back together?” Justine was counting with his fingers.

“So… Two years and some change,” Vivian sighed. “So, when is the right time to move in?”

“Honey, you should have moved in a long time ago,” Catherine rolled her eyes at the obvious. “If I were you, the moment Bruce Wayne asked me out, I’d be the good and perfect girl and be packing my things the moment he invited me over.”

Uh…

“Justine, how about you?” Vivian asked him, which gained a wince from their other colleagues for him.

“Why me?” Justin asked.

“We’re the same age and you’ve been in a couple of long-term relationships. When is the right time to move in?”

“I don’t really… the last girlfriend I had that we did move in together. We were two years in the relationship – but, we were in uni then and we decided to rent an apartment than take a dorm that’s fucking expensive in GU.”

“Noted,” Vivian sighed. 

“But if you’re not ready, you really shouldn’t push it. I mean, if you’re going to move in with him, you gotta be sure that he’s the one, right – ow!” Justin turned to Catherin who stepped on his foot with her heel. “I assume that you’ll be moving in with him since I doubt rich-boy-Bruce-Wayne won’t be uprooting from his ancestral home? I mean, I doubt Wayne would survive a condo without a butler.”

This time it was Vivian who gave him the look. He’s always been vocal of his dislike towards Bruce for two things: his wealth and the fact Bruce – in her colleagues and students’ words — stole every chance he had with Vivian. She decided to ignore all of that and maintain a good working relationship with him but there are times when he crosses the line and she puts him in his place. 

The first time he spoke out of line when she and Bruce got back together, Vivian said to him: “Justin, you had every chance to ask me out for the past years I started working here. My desk is literally just one arm away from yours in the faculty office, but you didn’t. Because you were too afraid to – because you were playing safe. Hell, I even asked you out a couple of times but you brushed it off as a friendly night-out. I even gave you hints that you can kiss me!

“You’re just angry that Bruce had the guts to do what you couldn’t all those times I was free. And no, it’s not about the fancy dinners or the out of the city trips, because I also take him to food truck dates or those open mic places and he doesn’t mind! I appreciate your concern about him hurting me but it’s not your job to tell me what I should do. You’re my friend and I will consider your opinions but that’s it. And I want us to stay friends considering we’ll be working in the university for a long time. So, please, not another word about Bruce or my relationship with him. Okay?”

After that night Justin didn’t talk to her for months until they were tasked to oversee a student event and he was forced to. 

“But you are going to move in with him in Wayne Manor, right?” Greg asked.

“Yeah, I am,” Vivian shrugged.

“Do you want to?” Justin asked, this time sincerely concerned for her.

Vivian thought long and hard but all she said was, “Bruce said he was willing to move in with me in a smaller place but it’s not just him – there’s Alfred and Dick to consider too. Who am I to just take them from their home, right?”

~*~

Bruce arrived at Gotham University and parked at his usual spot, but before he could lock his car Vivian was already walking towards him with her things. He greeted her halfway with a kiss and took her bag from her hold. It was heavier than usual, she was probably going to do some work at home or do work while she sits behind the Batcomputer tonight. 

“So, should we get takeout before we head to your place and get my things? Dick begged to get some burgers and fries for dinner,” said Bruce.

“Let’s head to my place first to get our things and then drive-thru.”

Vivian opened the door of the car but before she could get in Bruce asked her, “What do you mean get our things? I thought the idea was not to leave more stuff in the manor.”

Vivian shrugged. “My closet in the manor has most of my clothes now anyway, and we both know where this discussion is heading, right?”

“You want to move into the Manor?” Bruce smiled.

Vivian rolled her eyes when she saw his smile and got in the car so they could talk more. Bruce got in the car, started the engine with his car key, and waited for her response. 

“Yes, Bruce, I wanna move into the Manor – but tonight, I think my first and second drawer would be possible. I can set a weekend to pack my things so I can bring them there — and it just gives us more time to discuss how we’re going to put my things there. I mean, do I get my own room or are we sharing yours?”

Bruce laughed and held her hand, slipping his fingers between hers. “We can go into details later. First, are you sure you want to move into the Manor? You think three-years isn’t too early?”

“Do you plan on kicking me out soon or do you see this not working out?”

“No! God, no. And you?”

Vivian reached out to him with her free hand, brushing the hair at the back of his head, and leaned in to kiss his lips. “No. God, no,” she mimicked his words. “I think it’s time we put on our grown-up pants and take the next step – like Dick said.”

“So, we’re really doing this now… okay, let’s get some of your things and we can settle them in the closet that Alfred made for you in the manor – for now – and then we go get Dick’s burgers. Then we talk about how we’re going to do this.”

“Down to the very detail, Wayne. I mean, we need to discuss splitting bills, right?” Bruce shrugged, but his grin never faltered. 

“Yes. Exactly.”

“And what you’re going to do with your condo.”

“I’ll put it out for rent.”

“So, you got that covered, huh?”

“I have some people who are interested and would want to move in as soon as possible.”

“Then I guess we better get the movers this weekend… and Viv, you’re not getting your own room. We’ll have that closet of yours moved to our room where you’ll be sleeping in our bed. But I feel like you’d prefer your own study?”

“I get my own study?” Vivian laughed.

“Of course.”

“I’m sure you saw that my study is actually my living room or my dining table or my kitchen counter, right? And I only get a space in the faculty office.”

“You’ll get your own study with a ceiling to floor bookshelf.”

Vivian kissed him again. “I can’t wait to head home now so we can talk more about this study that we’ll be locking the doors to get away from Dick and Alfred.”

~*~

That night, Batman and Robin went home a bit earlier than usual patrols, and when they came back Bruce had Dick head to bed while he went to see Vivian in their bedroom and invited her to the kitchen where he had taken out for them both. A midnight snack while they discuss their arrangements.

It was around three in the morning now, they were halfway through their fries. Luckily Vivian’s first class was in the afternoon and Bruce didn’t have a meeting until three later. All this time they were discussing their arrangements and how they’ll be splitting the bills, when nothing seems to get to them, Alfred, who heard the ruckus in the kitchen, got out of bed to see what was going on.

Which was how the poor man ended up between the two adults fueled by coffee and fast food, mediating their discussion on bills and contributions. It took a while but in the end they finally managed to come to an agreement.

Yawning, Alfred laid out on the final paper the terms the couple had agreed on. “So, on this final decision that Master Bruce and Professor Pryor have settled,” he yawned again, glancing at the window he realized that the sun was coming up and he’ll need to start breakfast soon. “For this move-in to take place. All utilities, groceries, and maintenance of the Manor will be taken care of by Master Bruce – as per usual. But starting next semester, Professor Pryor will be paying for Master Dick’s schooling, which includes tuition, miscellaneous, projects, allowances, and school trips until he goes to college, and if Master Dick decides to go to college –”

“He is,” the couple said.

“At least you’re both in agreement on that,” Alfred muttered. “I wonder what Master Dick has to say about it… to continue, any personal expenses will be pay by each to their own. Personal assets will also remain to each of their own. Now, the discussion about Professor Pryor’s mode of transportation. To make things simple, the Professor will be acquiring a car – brand new, as per Master Bruce’s insistence, and an economy-sedan, as per Professor Pryor’s preference. The down payment will be made by Master Bruce but for the remaining monthly payments it will be for Professor Vivian to carry. But any future maintenance that is caused by criminal elements in the streets, Master Bruce will pay for the repairs or purchase a new car – a car in which will be Professor Pryor’s choosing. Is that all?”

“Yeah, I think that’s about it,” Vivian hid her yawn. “You good with this, Wayne?” she turned to Bruce who was also hiding a yawn.

“I’m good with this. Today we’re going to find you a car.”

“No, today, you both will be going to bed and then going to work in the afternoon. And after that you both will go home, rest, have a good meal and a good night’s sleep. Is that clear?” Alfred said in a commanding tone.

Seeing that they have no room for objections, the two adults nodded and said, “Yes, Alfred.”

“Good, now sign here and be off to bed. I shall inform Master Dick about your absence for breakfast and take him to school.”

Vivian and Bruce quickly signed their agreements and had their copies with them. They were kicked out of the kitchen by Alfred before they could get another cup of coffee and locked in their bedroom door and called out, “Goodnight!”

They didn’t go to sleep immediately that hour. How could they when after planning and the arguments, they needed a good release. But they did fall asleep once they finished and in the most uncomfortable position too, which led to a stiff neck and a sore shoulder.

~*~

It was either an BMW or a Mercedes-Benz. Vivian opted for a Toyota Vios or a Honda City but Bruce took her to those fancy car showrooms where he’s got a lot of connections. At first he showed her Toyota’s cars there, which she told him, “the fact Dick is happy to be here means this isn’t for me,” and pointed to the fourteen-year-old grinning ear-to-ear at a Toyota GR86 and was about to agree to go on a test ride until Vivian told the showroom people, “He’s fourteen years old.”

“I can drive,” Dick told her. He can and he can drive the Batmobile.

“You’re fourteen,” Vivian repeated, which was enough to say anymore. 

Dick sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets and followed her to the other side of the room. “I can drive.”

“Remember: a normal family. Dick, and normal families don’t have fourteen-year-olds driving a freaking tank chasing criminals,” Vivian whispered to him. 

After leaving Toyota’s sports car showroom, they went to the next place which was Mercedes-Benz. This time the place they went had an economy-sedan but the brand itself was too much for her taste. Then there was the BMW, which she will admit was way more her preference with its subtlety, which was important in Gotham so no one would think of car-jacking the vehicle. 

Getting the possible cars she could choose from, the group of three went to the cafe not far from the showrooms for lunch. Dick was excited for the pizza he ordered and couldn’t wait for it so he decided to start with the appetizers served, all the while Bruce and Vivian were going through the brochures and the quotations along with payment schemes – which Vivian requested for – all the while sharing the appetized from Vivian’s place as Dick asked Bruce if he was going to eat his portion.

“I like the BMW,” Vivian said, using the correct way of pronouncing the brand. 

“So do I,” Bruce said.

“Great, first thing we agreed on. And these payment terms look good for me – doable too..”

“Why not this?” He pointed to the higher down payment. “It could lessen the load on the monthlies and the insurance.”

“What was the agreed percentage on our agreement for the down payment for the car?” 

Before Bruce could answer, Dick said, “You didn’t settle for one. You just agreed that Bruce would pay for the down payment.”

Bruce smiled smugly at that. “Thank you, Dick.”

“Anything for this to end, it’s getting on my nerves and it’s getting on Alfred’s nerves. By the way, Viv, I saw that game you have in your box, can I play with that?”

“Help me out here and you can have it,” Vivian told him.

“Bribing a kid. A very nice example you’re setting here, Viv,” Bruce teased. “We’ll put in a bigger down payment, and I promise that I won’t meddle in your monthly expenses unless you ask.”

“Bruce, I know you’re not meddling. It’s just something that I can’t live with myself if — I can’t swallow –” Dick snorted which had Vivian kicking him under the table “-- the fact that everything is a hand me down.”

Bruce sighed. “I know, I just want to help you as much as I can.”

“And you have done so much for me. But I’m a big girl now, I gotta do these things on my own,” smiling, Vivian placed a kiss on his cheek. “But thank you for insisting on paying for the down payment. And… looking at it now, I think your choice for the payment scheme is more doable and gives me legroom – but don’t rub it on my face, jeez. Gloating doesn’t suit you, Wayne.”

Bruce chuckled and pressed a kiss on her temple. “I’m just glad we finally agreed on something and we can get this done and have you fully settled in at the Manor.”

“Please tell me you’re not going to throw a party for me.”

“I’m not, but I think the public is waiting for one.”

“No!”

The pizza finally came and Dick started to dig in before Bruce and Vivian’s dishes were even set on the table. And before the waiter left, Dick called for them and said, “Scotch neat, and make it a double. And drinking ginger ale for them. And for me, a chocolate milkshake. We’re celebrating, they finally finished this whole moving-in thing.”

~*~

Boxes were brought down, leaving only her duffle bag of clothes which Vivian had on her shoulder, and some books she couldn’t add to the boxes. Taking one last look around the place, she swept through each room one last time and noticed something that wasn’t there when she moved into the place. The protection spell she marked on the doors and windows, she had forgotten about those.

“All set, the movers are now taking the last of your things to the Manor, are you good?” Bruce went back inside to see her. “Vivian?”

“Yeah, I am,” Vivian wiped her hand across the mark. One moment it was there, the next it was a clean wall. The same goes to all the marks she placed in the condo. “All set, as if a witch didn’t live here at all.”

Taking the duffle bag from her, Bruce held her hand and said, “Do you feel like we’re rushing things?”

“Please don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts – I just wiped that thing off,” she joked.

“I’m not, but how do you feel about all this?”

“It took us two weeks for me to actually get all my things out of this place – but for the couch and the bed and the fridge, wow my tenants are lucky to have a fully furnished place…” Vivian counted the appliances she’ll be leaving, and to get her back on track, Bruce pulled her to him and kissed her nape. 

“Viv,” he murmured against her skin. “Are you sure?”

“I am. One-hundred-percent,” Vivian held his arms that embraced her. “Since moving from Liverpool, this is the first major step that I made that didn’t scare the shit out of me.”

“A good thing or a bad thing?”

“A good thing. Let’s go, Dick’s asked us to get drive-thru for lunch.”

“He’s taking advantage of this move to eat more junk food than he should be.”

“He’s a kid, Bruce, what do you expect?” Vivian closed and locked the door of her condo as they left. She’ll be handing over the keys to the tenant that booked the place for the next six months. “This is what makes us a good team. You bring class and ass kicking to his life, and I bring normal teenager stuff and McDonald’s. It’s a good combination to raise a kid.”

“I guess you’re right,” Bruce entered the elevator. “I’ll miss this elevator, though.”

“Yeah, and I bet Creepy Norman would miss the shows we give him everytime we couldn’t wait too,” Vivian waved at the elevator camera. “Bye Norman, see you whenever I drop by to see the place!”

Exiting the building, the couple got in the silver BMW, threw the bag to the back, and Vivian got in the driver’s seat and drove away from the building and down the road heading to Wayne Manor, but first, she’ll get Dick his burger and fries.

[songmingisthighs]

Hooked

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

ch. liii - sugar daddy

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??? × reader, ateez × reader

A freshman hookup rekindled into something new. With an incentive, of course. But what would happen if your 'relationship' led you somewhere you never thought would happen to you ?

Dinner couldn't have gone better. Sure, Seonghwa's dad mostly ignored you, only throwing questions here and there to avoid Seonghwa's mom nagging at him. But he was mostly preoccupied with his phone. At one point, while his dad was so focused on his phone, Seonghwa leaned close to you and whisper 'one of the mistresses' to you, making you giggle.

"You know, (Y/N), I don't think I've ever seen Seonghwa smiled this wide when he's around us, you must be a pretty special lady," his mom said to you with a gentle smile.

You blushed in slight embarrassment at the compliment, "I sure hope so, ma'am, because I gotta say that he's very special to me too," you said as you look up to Seonghwa.

Hearing you said that made Seonghwa bit his bottom lip to prevent him from giggling out loud. So he opted to place a hand on your thigh and squeezed it gently, letting you know how he appreciated your words. Seeing this, his mom squealed and gushed about how adorable you both are and how glad she is that he found you.

Even after the topic was changed, Seonghwa didn't seem to lift his hand off of your thigh. He had actually moved to caress it gently with his fingers. You assumed it helped him be at ease so you didn't think much about it and let him be.

As dinner progressed to dessert, you found yourself having fun bonding with his mom and sometimes his dad when he wasn't glaring at his phone or when his mom directly addressed him. You realized that his parents are actually unlike most rich parents which then would explain why Seonghwa is who he is. Maybe minus the cheating father.

One other thing you realized is that Seonghwa's hand that was on your thigh had moved significantly higher, it was resting inside your skirt, just a bit past the hem, and that he was sitting closer than before. You felt your heartbeat quicken as his fingers drew shapes on your inner thigh, exhilarated yet worried and slightly embarrassed as his parents are directly across from you two.

"Honey, there's the Kims, we should go and say hi," his mom said, tapping his dad's arm and they immediately went over to the other table after excusing themselves for one second.

As quickly as they left, Seonghwa snapped his head to you in a panicked state, "quick, take off your panties!" he said in a hurried tone. You widened your eyes at him and stared at him as if he was crazy. But he kept urging you with a panicked voice, ultimately rendering you panicked as well. Nevertheless, you did as told and slyly slip your panties off and lift them with your legs to capture them but Seonghwa beat you to the punch as he took the panties and stashed them in his pockets. Just in time as his parents return to the table. Seonghwa sent you an inconspicuous wink and that was when you realized that he has a plan.

The first time he made a move was when you were taking a sip of your water. He let his finger roamed up and slip easily to your folds, almost making you choke.

"Oh gosh, dear, are you alright?" his mom asked you. You wanted to answer but you were still coughing slightly. Seonghwa took this as an opportunity. He used his perfect-boyfriend act when he pulled your hair out of your face and dab his napkin around your mouth, perfectly covering his other hand that managed to slip deep into your hole, almost making you choke again.

First strike.

His next move was when he was seemingly very much absorbed in a conversation about business with his parents, leaving you out of the conversation but still paying attention to you. Though his hand was still under your skirt, it remained stagnant and still.

But out of nowhere, as he talked about acquisition and mergers, his fingers pinched your clit rather harshly. You jolted up in surprise as your legs clamped shut, trapping Seonghwa's hand inside.

Again, his mom asked whether or not you were okay, and you tried your best to convinced her that you are despite Seonghwa's fingers' constant teasing. When Seonghwa turned around to look at you, you saw the smug smirk on his face and by God you never wanted to smack someone more.

Second strike.

The last strike was when you all were having dessert and Seonghwa pretended to have dropped his fork. You were on edge since he had taken his hand out for a while and the slick in your pussy had started to bother you.

He ducked down under the table just as you shifted the position of your legs. He saw his, literal, opening and slotted his face between your legs and licked a stripe up your pussy. Thank God for the table cloth or else you both would've been kicked out of the restaurant for sure.

You let out a sharp squeak which was thankfully held back a little because you had your mouth close.

Just as quickly as you reacted to him, Seonghwa also quickly returned to his position, playing the act of a perfect, doting boyfriend. "Baby, you okay? You don't look well," he made a fuss by pressing the back of his hand to your forehead and cheeks which were red because you've been blushing out of embarrassment and arousal.

"You know what, Seonghwa, sweetie, you should really take (Y/N) here home, take care of her, alright?" his mom said.

You smiled sheepishly at her and also to Seonghwa's dad, "I'm so sorry I had to cut things short," you told them. Seonghwa's mom laughed wholeheartedly at you as she waved her hands around, "it's no problem at all, darling. Besides, we're going to meet each other again soon, I'm going to make sure Seonghwa bring you to family dinner, okay?" she smiled warmly at you. Even his dad managed to look up at you and smiled genuinely.

After bidding your goodbyes to both of them, Seonghwa took your hand in his and immediately ran out to get his car from the valet. As you both waited, you grip on the lapel of his blazer and tugged him close to you, "how fucking dare you," you muttered lowly.

Seonghwa smirked and brushed his lips against the skin of your cheek, "can't help it baby, you looked so damn good and knowing I prettied you up made me... hungry," he growled. His lips moved to your ear to inconspicuously nibble on your earlobe, "who's your daddy?"

Your legs almost wobbled at that. If Seonghwa hadn't had his arm around you, you sure would've dropped to the ground and let him take you then and there.

But thankfully the car came right at that moment and to say you bolted yourself into the car.

Once Seonghwa got onto the driver's seat, he gripped onto your arm and stared at you intently, "you are not to touch yourself, you got me?" he stated. You stammered, you wanted to protest but he only stared at you, unmoving.

You jutted your lips and crossed your arms in protest, staring forward in disappointment. Much to your surprise, Seonghwa smacked your thigh hard enough to make it red, "I said, you got me?" he stressed each word, indicating that he needed verbal confirmation from you. "y-yes, I understand, I won't touch myself," you whimpered.

Satisfied, Seonghwa rubbed the reddened spot on your thigh and began driving.

Whilst Seonghwa was focused on driving, an idea popped into your head. A quite dangerous one at that. But you really wanted to get back at him for playing with you in front of his parents. You didn't know what made you decide on going forth, but you were sure your horniness had a large play.

Quickly getting yourself to work, you had somehow managed to unzip Seonghwa's pants and whip his hardening dick out. You licked your lips at the sight, your hand began stroking him as the other settled on his thigh in order to stabilize yourself.

Quickly getting yourself to work, you had somehow managed to unzip Seonghwa's pants and whip his hardening dick out. You licked your lips at the sight, your hand began stroking him as the other settled on his thigh in order to stabilize yourself.

"What are you-" Seonghwa's words were cut off with his own moan as you delved down to take his dick deep in your mouth. Hearing him moaned out only egged you to go on further.

You deepthroated Seonghwa as best as you could, sucking him whilst letting your hand play with his balls.

"B-baby, you ca-an't do this," he said through gritted teeth. You peered up only to see his eyes glued to the road, but his hands were gripping onto the steering wheel so tightly, his knuckles turned white. You took him out of your mouth to pump him in with your hand instead, you rested your head on his thighs and looked up to him with a pout on your face, "you said I couldn't play with myself, well I'm not! I'm playing with you, you and your pretty cock," you proceeded to lick along the vein of his dick.

Seonghwa groaned as his resolve started to wither away. Even whilst preoccupied with Seonghwa's dick, you could feel that he was speeding to go back.

With every suck or pump, Seonghwa's dick hardened and along with that, his need to cum. It was a gamble, sure, but you couldn't help yourself. It was a sudden automatic urge to tease Seonghwa. Maybe you could blame it on hanging out with Wooyoung too much.

You continued bobbing your head on Seonghwa's cock as quickly as you can. You started something and you wanted to make sure that you're going to finish. And by finish you meant him cumming down your throat.

Due to being so focused on Seonghwa's dick, you hadn't realized that you both had arrived at the frat. The car came to a full stop in front of the frat and was put in park.

Just as you were about to release Seonghwa from your mouth, Seonghwa held your neck and groaned, "you best keep your head there until I cum so deep down your throat that you'd choke," he ordered.

You happily obliged and returned to work him. Seonghwa's demand to make him cum only encourage you. You'd bob your head on him, fondle his balls, graze your teeth against his tip, and squeeze his dick. It proved to be very effective as Seonghwa threw his head back and began to thrust his own hips up to your mouth, wanting more.

His lips began calling out your name in moans. You could imagine his eyes screwed shut as he desperately chased his release.

It wasn't until two, three more deepthroating that he came in your mouth. You could feel his dick twitched in your mouth as his warm cum trickle down your throat. The feeling made you moan and the vibration of your voice shot up from his dick to his spine, making him shudder.

You managed to swallow all of him clean, not leaving a single drop out. After you detached yourself from his dick, you could feel that he was about to pull you in for a kiss. But you expertly evaded him and dart out of his car into the frat instead.

"Hey- wait!" Seonghwa called out, cursing and immediately shoving his dick back into the pants and lock the car to follow after you.

When you walked into the frat, you ran past San and Jongho who were on the couch, watching something on the tv. You ran straight to the staircase and aim for Seonghwa and Hongjoong's bedroom.

Maybe it was because you weren't exactly running away from him, or maybe he was really just that fast, but he caught up to you mid-step and heave you up onto his shoulder wordlessly. He sent a spank onto your ass, making you yelp loudly. The sound of your voice didn't break his focus as he immediately entered your room.

As soon as he put you down on the floor, he gripped onto your chin and kissed you roughly.

"Strip naked for me," he said against your lips before letting you go. The serious tone in his voice made you hurriedly tug all of your clothes off and simply shove them to the side somewhere.

When you finally looked up, you saw Seonghwa on your bed, naked with his cock in his hand. He motioned for you to come to him with one hand while his other one was sliding up and down his slick shaft. The sight was so arousing, you could've sworn your juice leaked out of you.

"Ride me," he ordered as soon as you arrived next to the bed. You immediately obliged, throwing a leg over him and immediately slip his dick inside your pussy. Both of you moaned loudly when you felt how he filled you up and he felt how warm you are.

"Fucking move baby, I need you so bad," Seonghwa moaned out. His hips rolled up against yours and immediately you took the hint. You anchored yourself on his chest and began thrusting yourself up and down his dick. You threw your head back at the feeling and let out a long moan.

Not wanting you to work by yourself, Seonghwa gripped your hips and began meeting your thrusts. The sudden powerful hit from his hips made your arms weak and you almost toppled over onto his body.

"H-Hwa, you feel so good," you moaned out, moving your hips faster on him. Seonghwa reached a hand up to your breast and began squeezing and playing with your nipple, adding to the pleasure even more. "You feel even better, baby," he said, tongue licking his bottom lip.

The sight of his tongue was enough to drove you almost mad. You leaned forward and crash your lips to his, locking you both in a desperate kiss all the while your hips move as quickly as it could, not minding the fact that you might be sore tomorrow. Tonight, you only thought about Seonghwa fucking you.

Both of you moved in tandem with each other. Seonghwa held you as close as he could, a hand wrapped around your waist and another grabbing onto your ass, squeezing the flesh hard. Meanwhile, you were busy exploring Seonghwa's mouth with your tongue, his own tongue would even fight you for dominance.

Maybe it was because Seonghwa had been teasing you all through dinner, but you felt yourself so close to the edge. Your pussy clenched on his dick, signalling him of your impending climax.

As if to tell you to cum, Seonghwa planted his feet on your bed and began thrusting at a pace much quicker than yours. Because you were on top of him, you could feel him thrusting deep in you, rubbing onto your sweet spot continuously until you froze and came on top of him. His lips prevented you from moaning too loud which was a shame but you couldn't really protest.

It took Seonghwa a couple more thrust into your clenching pussy before he completely emptied himself in you. Both of your cum mixing and trailing down your thighs onto his and even dropping onto the bed.

The once ferocious kiss changed to a romantic one as Seonghwa nibbled onto your bottom lip sweetly. You could feel him smile against your own lips.

"You did great, baby," he said, letting your body drop down fully on top of him. When he was about to slip out of you, you whined in protest and hugged him tightly like a koala. Seonghwa chuckled at your adorableness, he carded a hand through your hair sweetly and peck your forehead, "we gotta clean up, baby, you've got cum in you and everywhere else," he said.

You whined and buried your face onto the crook of his neck in protest, "do that tomorrow, I like having you inside me," you pouted. Though his instinct told him to remove you and clean up, he couldn't say no to you. He knew he has no power if it comes to anything concerning you.

So he defeatedly sighed and somehow covered both of your bodies with your blanket. He made sure that you were in a comfortable position before closing his own eyes to get some rest.

The last thing you heard was him telling you goodnight and then a soft peck landed on your forehead before you drifted off to dreamland.

taglist :

@raysanshine @peachy-maia @xuxiable @90s-belladonna @theclawofaraven @sanraes @sungiehan @felix-kithes @nycol-ie @superstarw99 @skkrtnawrskkrt @viv-atiny @the7thcrow @stfu-xeena @laurademaury @multihoe-net @daisyhwa @scoupshushushu @whyisquill @bikiniholic @yunhorights @exfolitae @simplewonderland @verycooldog2 @perfectlysane24 @hannahdinse8 @tannie13 @aka-minhyuk-kun @phebeedee @em0yunho @marsophilia @donghyuckanti27 @se-onghwa @malewife-supremacy @hyunsukream @elijahbabyb @taejichafe @alliecoady98 @rdiamondbts2727 @hakuna-matata-ya @ohmy-fandoms @spacebikerateez @stray-bi-kids @imaaroy @fashi0nablee @rindomo @violetwinters

[morganayenneferburnham]

Have I Known You 20 Seconds or 20 Years? – Nikolai Lantsov Series

Chapter 1: Devils Roll the Dice, Angel Roll their Eyes

Chapter 2: You Did a Number on Me

Chapter 3: You Could Call Me Babe for the Weekend

A very short summary: Y/N has been working with the crows for a few years. Her life feels complete until she meets the insufferable Nikolai Lantsov. She finds herself forced to work with the King of Ravka on one of Kaz Brekker’s crazy schemes.

Word count: 2k

A/N: Finally starting to get somewhere!! I just started writing chapter 4, so it might take a bit longer before I upload again. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter in the meanwhile.

Thank you for reading! Just send me an ask if you want to be added to my taglist :) 

Chapter 3: You Could Call Me Babe for the Weekend

The next morning went by in a blur. They had moved everything to Wylan’s house on Geldstraat. Kaz was right. It would’ve been too suspicious if they had left for the party from the barrel. Questions about the job were being thrown from one person to the next. Various answers about cues and schedules flying in every direction.

“Wait, what time are we supposed to get to the party again?”

“Quarter after 6 bells, Jesper!” Yelled Wylan running by with an armful of party clothes.

“Nikolai and I are getting there at 6 bells. That way it won’t look like we know each other.” Y/N had been heading off in the opposing direction.

“Wylan! You forgot your jacket in the music room” Kaz’s raspy voice was easily recognizable above the others.

“I’ll go ahead and scout for the best location for you to hide to summon the storm. I’ll come get you at a quarter to 8 bells.”

Nikolai had to admire the crows’ ability to understand each other and get the job done in such chaos. They were running back and forth in every direction trying to get everything ready. Even Zoya seemed at ease discussing the plan with Inej. He needed this job to succeed. He needed to guarantee his country’s future. Once he was done dealing with this newest threat from Fjerda…? He’d like to work with the crows again. He felt much freer. Maybe it could become a side hustle for him and Zoya. It would give them a nice break from ruling a country.

He felt a soft hand rest on his arm. “Hey, we should probably go get ready for the party. We’ll meet here at 5 bells? That way we can go over last-minute details and head over.” She was smiling up at him. Her smile was soft as if she could tell he was anxious. He let his eyes trail over her tailored face and couldn’t help but miss her true features once more.

“Sounds good. I’ll see you then, my darling.” He pressed a quick kiss to her knuckles and watched her disappear up the vast staircase.

---

Nikolai made his way to the room Wylan had so graciously offered him that morning. It was not his room at the Grand Palace, but it was much nicer than the one he’d had at the slat. He took his time putting on the rich merch’s clothes Kaz had picked out for him. He was still in awe of the work Y/N had done on him. The young king found himself unavoidably staring at himself in the mirror mounted to his wall. He finished buttoning up his shirt and folded his suit jacket on his arm. It was almost 5 bells. He knew he should make his way back to the mansion’s parlor.

Nikolai had barely sat in one of the large armchairs when an appreciative whistle sounded on his left. He followed Jesper’s gaze to the stairs. Y/N’s dress accentuated her new body in all the right places. Nikolai couldn’t help but think it would’ve suited her even better before the tailoring.

“No one warned me I’d have to fight off every man who lays eyes on my wife.” He complained.

He watched as Inej and Zoya approached Y/N. The women shared a few whispered comments before they lead Y/N to him. He could’ve sworn he saw the girl’s cheeks turn red. He had to put up a lot more effort than he was used to in schooling his own features. The way the dress moved along to the sway of her hips, with every step she took, made his brain go blank. He imagined the way it would’ve been even more sensual with her natural curves. Maybe he could convince her to wear the gown again once she’d tailored them both back to normal. His mind was racing with images of her, twirling in his arms, wearing that damned dress.

“Anything you want to go over before we get going?” She was looking at him expectantly, her eyes bright, her tailored lips stretched in a small smile.

His mouth felt dry. All eyes were on him. He had to fight to kick start his brain again. “Nope, I think we’re ready.” He offered her a hand, his natural charm coming back to him. “Shall we, my darling wife?”

She took his hand and they headed for the door leading to the elegant boathouse. “No mourners” she called over her shoulder.

A unified “No funerals” rang out behind them. Nikolai made a mental note to ask them what the saying meant, at some point, when he wasn’t so distracted by the beautiful Grisha on his arm.

---

They’d taken a small, polished boat to make their way to councilman Van Verent’s house. It had only taken a few minutes for them to reach the sophisticated boathouse on the councilman’s property. A Stadwatch officer had taken their invitation before guiding them to the stylishly decorated mansion. Flowers from every guest’s country were arranged in beautiful crystal vases matching the colourful silk ribbons adorning the banister. As they entered the main hall, they were stunned by the sheer number of guests already in attendance. The main floor was filled with dignitaries from Kerch, Novyi Zem, Shu Han, Fjerda, and the Wandering Isle. Nikolai noticed the absence of anyone representing his country. Good, he thought, it’ll make the job easier.

To his dismay, Y/N was already catching the eye of a few men standing off to the sides of the room. He wrapped his arm tightly around her waist, pulling her closer, sending the interested parties a nasty look. He felt her breath hitch but didn’t release his hold on her body. She was his wife. Anyone who wanted to get to her would have to go through him. Nikolai was surprised by the jealousy he felt. He was usually in control of his feelings, always choosing to be pragmatic rather than emotional. He knew they had to put on a convincing act. He still wasn’t supposed to be this possessive of a girl he’d only met a few days ago, right? All the Saints and their mothers, Zoya will murder me if she finds out about this.

Y/N had maneuvered them towards a group of Zemeni dignitaries, quickly engaging in easy conversation with one of the wives. Nikolai used the opportunity to present their made-up business proposal to a few interested parties, promising to send them more information as soon as they went back home to the Wandering Isle.

They navigated group after group of foreign and domestic dignitaries for about an hour. He had to admit Kaz had done a wonderful job when creating their false identities, but he was tired of the constant mindless chattering. How lucky, he thought, the dance floor seems very appealing right about now.

He leaned in close, letting his lips brush against Y/N’s ear, interrupting her conversation. “You are doing a fantastic job, my love.” He felt her shiver against him. “I’m sure we’ll have plenty of business partners once you’re done here. Now, however, I would very much like to dance with my beautiful wife.” She looked at him, surprise evident in her deep brown eyes. Nikolai smirked; he could get used to this. He offered her a hand before guiding her swiftly to the dance floor.

He felt men staring, once again, at ‘his wife’ as they graciously made their way to the middle of the floor. The small orchestra started playing a beautiful soft song, perfect for a romantic moment between lovers. Nikolai rested his right hand on the small of Y/N’s back, pulling her close, keeping her hand tightly in his own. He felt her free hand gently come to rest on his shoulder. His heart beating more quickly than he would’ve liked. Why am I so nervous? She was gazing up at him, a gentle smile gracing her lips. He swallowed hard. Nikolai had never felt more grateful for the dance lessons he’d taken as a child. He’d only done it to please his mother. He had to admit he was glad they were paying off now. To anyone watching them, they simply looked like newlyweds, madly in love, eager to share a dance.

They turned elegantly, in time with the slow music, their bodies completely in sync. Their breathing even, their steps well-balanced. The deep green skirts of her dress following every graceful movement they made. She followed his lead perfectly as if they’d been partners for years. She seemed to trust him completely, showing him how safe she felt in his arms. Time slowed for a moment. Nikolai found himself forgetting all about the job, about the plans they had to steal, even about his country. He wanted to stay in this moment, holding the talented Grisha against him, forever.

The sound of applause brought him out of his reverie. He took in their surroundings. Y/N looked as surprised as he felt. Her eyes wide, cheeks flushed. He had no idea how long they had been dancing, how many songs had been played. It dawned on him that they were the cause of the applause. People had stopped dancing and talking to watch the young couple, completely lost in each other, moving elegantly across the floor. He saw Jesper and Wylan, wide grins plastered on their faces, in the far corner of the room. They looked way too pleased. Saints, I hope they won’t tell Brekker about this.

He bowed, Y/N following his lead once again, before walking off the dance floor, towards the grand staircase. They had to stop drawing so much attention to themselves. He wished he could have a moment to talk to Y/N, alone, away from the prying eyes of the crowd. She was playing her role to perfection, all smiles, as couples complimented them on their dancing for the next few minutes.

The ornate wall-mounted clock chimed. Zoya, Wylan, and Jesper would create the distraction in 15 minutes. Wylan subtly nodded to him, indicating he had already placed the small incendiary charge in the dining room. He had developed this newest marvel by studying and modifying one of David Kostyk’s discoveries. It seemed the boy truly was a genius. Jesper would detonate the charge at 8 bells, the sound of his shot covered by the storm Zoya would summon. The fire would require all-hands-on-deck to be put out, leaving the office unguarded. If everything went according to Kaz’s plan, it would give him and Y/N about 30 minutes to pick the lock of Van Verent’s office, crack the safe and make their way back to the party with the blueprints safely tucked in the sheath hidden beneath Y/N’s dress.

They came to a halt in the shadow of the staircase, ready to spring to action at their cue. Nikolai made sure to pull Y/N close, slipping an arm around her waist.

“I didn’t know you were such a good dancer, my love.” He murmured. Better keep up the act. She makes it easy, though. I don’t even have to lie.

She laughed softly and turned in his arms, snaking her own arm around his neck, pressing her lips quickly against his cheek. “Thank you, darling. I am full of hidden talents, you know...” the raise of her eyebrow and her tone so suggestive Nikolai had to fight to keep a straight face. She’s only doing her job. She’s supposed to be my wife. It’s only normal that a young wife should flirt with her delightfully handsome husband. He was trying to convince himself but the playful look in her eyes told him otherwise. She spun around once more, keeping his hand on her waist, leaving him to observe the guests enjoying the party.

The clock chimed once more. 8 bells. Thunder boomed outside, rain battering the windows. A high-pitched scream sounded to his right, coming from the dining room. Other screams quickly followed. Guests ran past them, fleeing the room. Guards came rushing down the stairs, towards the fire. It was complete chaos. Nikolai found himself impressed, once again, by how brilliant the crows were. Maybe I could convince Kaz to help me plan my next military campaign? Or get Wylan to come work with David. I should at least sail with the Wraith and her crew.

Y/N’s fingers closed around his wrist. “That’s our cue.” She said with a sly grin on her lips.

---

Taglist: @power-of-words23

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas]

Weak sauce, give us SEXY lesbabes, coward

You want sexy lesbians??? Aight let's fucking go.

"Thanks so much for this, Urbosa."

"Of course Impa. The boy has been taking his fair share of vacations, it's about time you have a turn."

Impa was finally able to take a small break from everything, and what better place to relax, than a place full of pretty women? Not to mention the hot sun, and plenty of cold drinks. She took a sip of her noble pursuit, relishing in just how refreshing it was.

"I just, don't like taking too much time away from the princess. But she said I was too stressed out, so she sent me out here. Not that I WOULDN'T want to spend time with you, lady Urbosa."

"No need for formalities, Impa. You’re a guest here. One so close to Zelda, yet one I realized I don’t know very well. I know only the things everyone else knows.”

Impa watched her as she plucked a wild berry from one of the plates. She was very generous with the food she provided, and they both seemed unable to control their appetites.

“That everyone else knows? Like what?”

“That you’re young, that you function well with a kodachi, and of course the obvious one.”

“Obvious one?”

“That you like Zelda. A little more than most.”

Impa opened her mouth to protest, but her raised brow let her know that it was pointless. She sighed, hiding her blushing face in her hand.

“Okay, yeah. I do like her. A lot. Am I THAT obvious?”

“To everyone but Daruk. Told him last night, he didn’t believe me at first. He was also the last one to know about Mipha’s feelings for Link.”

“Seriously?”

“I know, that’s what I thought. Regardless, you have no reason to be ashamed. Zelda is a lovely young lady, and knights falling for the princess is a tale as old as time. If anything, I saw it coming a mile away.”

Impa wanted to just leave. She would have honestly, had Urbosa not wrapped an arm around her in clear comfort. Impa looked up at her smiling face, and Impa understood that Zelda trusted her so much. So kind, so understanding. Impa sighed.

“So it’s not...BAD that I like her as much as I do?”

“Not at all, little one. I think your only problem is you, if I can be frank with you.”

Impa folded her arms across her chest in thought, before she pulled one hand away, using it to wag her finger at some imaginary being in front of her.

“I just don’t see how she can like ME like that! I understand why she’d like Link, but I’m not HIM! I’m me! Link would know what to do here, I don’t.”

Urbosa chuckled, lightly patting the top of her head.

“You just struggle with your feelings. You’re so nervous around girls, I can tell.”

“Not ALL girls! Just...the really pretty ones.”

Impa found herself shrinking into her side as one of the many servants came in to fetch one of the plates. Urbosa shook her head as she saw Impa looking. The plight of the lesbians, she understood it perfectly.

“I understand, Impa. You know, I was a lot like you at your age. Only difference was, I never stood a chance. Don’t tell Zelda this, but...I used to be with her mother.”

Impa looked at her in shock, and she could only smile. The reaction was fairly appropriate.

“You were with the QUEEN?!”

“For a short period of time, yes. In fact, we planned on running away together upon hearing of her arranged marriage to King Rhoam. Then...something happened. She actually fell in love with him. He’s as stern as an oak now, but back in the day, he was quite the charmer.”

Impa was quiet for a moment, clearly interested in the story.

“How did you agree to be allies with his majesty after this?”

“I almost didn’t. I was about to start a war over her hand. But then she asked me to instead, stay by her side. No longer as her lover, but as her best friend. I almost didn’t accept it. But love is funny like that, so I vowed I would be there for her. Then, I vowed to be there for Zelda. So...here we are. I still love her, deep in my heart. So when I say I understand what you’re going through, I mean that.”

Impa sat there in thought, letting Urbosa take more nibbles of her fruit, before her eyes were back at the tempest.

“How...did you two even happen?”

“Funny story. I was TERRIBLY shy around her when we first met. Then my friends dared me to kiss her. I was so full of pride back then, I never refused a challenge, so that’s what I did. I kissed her. It went downhill from there. Who knows, maybe that’ll work for you and Zelda, eh?”

She nudged the little lady at her side, which made Impa blush something fierce.

“I...I’ve never kissed ANYONE before, honestly. I feel like If I tried, I’d just make things weird.”

“I could show you.”

Impa froze. No way did she just hear what she thought she heard. Their eyes met, and Impa chuckled. Clearly she was misunderstanding.

“I’m SO sorry, Urbosa, for a second there I thought you suggested you teach me how to kiss-”

“I did suggest this. You want to practice, I have a lot of experience. If you aren’t interested, that is fine. But Zelda having her first kiss is a good one...well, I’m sure that’s something you want.”

Impa opened her mouth to tell her how crazy that idea was, when Urbosa leaned down to hold her chin, lifting it up as she bent down a bit.

“You miss every shot you don’t take, Impa. I will not force you, but I fail to see why this isn’t a good idea.”

Impa thought about it. No one would know. It’d be just them. It’d be good practice for her. Not to mention...well. Who could say they kissed THE Urbosa? Arguably one of the hottest ladies out there? She dwelled on it, before meekly nodding.

“I...okay. So long as you’re patient with me, I guess.”

“I can assure you, I am a very patient teacher. Now, why don’t you go first, let me see what I’m working with?”

Impa leaned in, which was apparently funny, given how she covered her lips behind her hand. She felt her own face turn beet red.

“What?”

“You’re too tense, and you’re keeping your eyes open. Relax those shoulders, close your eyes. It’s not a fight, it’s a kiss.”

Impa took a deep breath, before nodding. There was not a thing to be scared of here. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and leaned in. Urbosa leaned in at the same time, and Impa tried not to freak out. She was sitting right here, kissing Urbosa, right on her lips! The tempest pulled away after a moment, nodding in thought.

“Not bad, but you surely need more practice. Let me show you how I kiss.”

Urbosa leaned in again, pressing her lips against hers. It was a kiss, just like before, only...way different. Urbosa’s lips were so firm, while simultaneously being so soft. Urbosa even placed her hand right at her stomach, pushing her flat onto one of the pillows she had thrown around. She held her down, all while she continued to kiss her, softly groaning into her mouth. Urbosa pulled away after a moment, carefully wiping her smudged blue lipstick as she looked down at Impa.

“Elements of surprise really make a kiss more memorable. I take it you won’t forget this one, and not just because it’s your first.”

Impa gave a light shake of her head, with the room spinning a little bit. What a kiss. Urbosa leaned down a bit, with her nose poking Impa’s.

“Now, your turn. Do it again, but add a little something to it. Go on, surprise me.”

Impa nodded, leaning her head up a bit in order to press her lips against Urbosa’s. She put a little more ‘oomph’ into the kiss this time around, even getting bold enough to stick her tongue into her mouth. The feel of someone’s tongue was something else. So wet, so warm, it made butterflies in her stomach. Urbosa pulled away with a chuckle, sensing that the little one needed to breathe. Impa cleared her throat, smearing blue lipstick that had spread over her mouth.

“So...surprised?”

“It wasn’t bad at all, honestly. It helps that you’re such a pretty girl.”

Impa could squeal. Helpless lesbian she was, the idea of a big, strong lady calling her ‘pretty girl’ made her just weak. She shook a bit as Urbosa’s finger trailed from her lips, down to her chest.

“If you’d like, I can show you other tricks aside from kissing. Not that there’s any pressure on my end.”

Impa looked around, unsure. This wasn’t weird though, right? Couldn’t be. She nodded, a bit more eagerly than she intended to. Urbosa chuckled, and got to work. Sheikah clothes were a bit conservative, with quite the amount of layers. It took her a good minute to get Impa in just her underwear and bra. Urbosa clicked her tongue.

“I understand it’s the clothes of your people, but you dress so modestly. It’s such a shame. You have such an adorable frame.”

Urbosa’s lips trailed from her cheek, to her neck, stopping just short of her chest. She was about to pull it away, when Impa held a finger up. Her cheeks were on fire, and her amber eyes were defiant.

“Hey, YOU’RE still dressed! That’s not fair!”

Urbosa blinked in surprise, before throwing her head back in laughter. Fiery little thing. She sat up, straddling the girl at this point.

“Alright, fair point, little sheikah.”

She reached behind her, undoing her chest armor, and her bra she often wore right under that. She wasn’t surprised when Impa stared at her well endowed chest, clearly having a gay panic. To taunt the poor thing further, she stood up, peeling away her skirt, tossing her black panties right at her chest, and showing her red pubic hair. Minus her heels, she was pretty much fully nude now.

“Happy?”

“I...uh...I…”

Impa was at a loss for words. Surprise surprise. Urbosa let her get a good look, before she knelt down, and pulled away her bra. She chuckled, honestly swooning over her cute little body.

"Oh you are precious. Such a lithe little frame, and such a cute chest."

Her chest was nowhere near her size, but rather, on the small end. Not that Urbosa minded, a chest was a chest. Though Impa didn't seem to agree, given how she covered her chest in clear embarrassment.

"I-i get it, okay? I'm kinda...small, especially compared to you and-"

She was silenced by Urbosa’s finger yet again.

“Don’t put yourself down now, Impa. Women like confidence. You have a lovely body, I daresay our little princess would be fond of it. If you’d just open up a bit.”

Urbosa was careful as she held her hands, slowly pulling them away from her body. Her actions were bold, but oh so delicate, and poor Impa didn’t stand a chance in hell. She got so nervous, but she made no marks to stop her. This was all advice given to her by a stunning woman? Who was she to refuse? Any doubt in her mind was erased the second her tongue grazed over one of her breasts. That actually happened. Her body froze in surprise, but Urbosa wouldn’t let her process it; kissing and suckling at her breast with one hand, with her other hand holding her body oh so close to her.

“That’s...new. Definitely new. But I don’t think the p-princess would let me do that.”

Urbosa kept at it for a moment, smearing more or her lipstick on her body as she suckled on her, letting her talented tongue graze across her perky little nipples. By the time she decided to take a break, Impa was laying there, a shaking, trembling mess.

“And why not? I have yet to find a woman who doesn’t like this, provided they know what they’re doing. Not to mention your nipples are SO eager, it’s rather cute. Why don’t you practice a bit on me?”

Urbosa sat back up, before laying back amongst her pillows. Impa somehow made herself sit up to get a good look at her. A huge set of breasts, nice wide hips, and a pussy that looked good enough to eat. She gulped, before nodding to herself. For the princess. She crawled up to her, cupping them both in her hands.

“Geez, I didn’t know they could GET this big. Really surprised the armor holds it all.”

“I’m no bigger than most Gerudo women, actually. I do however, taste better.”

She put her hand behind Impa’s head, and pulled, forcing her face into her chest. Impa took the hint, and helped herself. She massaged at her chest, slowly and deeply, while her mouth nibbled and suckled at her tits, occasionally tugging on the nipples with her soft, soft mouth. Then Urbosa moaned. It was as sensual as a moan could get; loud, with her head tossed back in pleasure. She chuckled as her eyes met with Impa’s.

“Mmmm...you aren’t half bad. But then again, it’s been a while since I’ve had a cute little vai in my arms. You’re so pretty, sucking on me like that. You like this, don’t you? Like how you feel smothered by them?”

She pressed her chest together, stuffing Impa’s face full of prime Gerudo boob. And holy shit, did it make her twitch. Urbosa chuckled, moving her chest back and forth for a moment, before finally letting the poor girl breathe. Impa was full on panting now, eagerly suckling on her breasts in a means to please the incredible woman in her arms. Urbosa was giving her just that, letting Impa have free reign while she rubbed at her wet pussy in fast, small circles.

“Oh that’s it little vai...suck on me, make me feel SO nice and wet.”

Impa was ashamed that she could feel herself dripping on the floor, but at the moment, she didn’t care. She just knew Urbosa looked so lovely, writhing and moaning and pleasuring herself. It came to a halt when Urbosa pushed her head away, Impa caught with her tongue out.

“You really like tasting. Try this.”

She stuck her wet fingers right into Impa’s mouth, and she didn’t refuse them. She was sitting here, with Urbosa’s pussy juices being shoved into her mouth. And it tasted SO good. She held onto her hand, slurping and sucking the fingers, in a desperate attempt to get more. She laughed, letting her have her moment.

“You like how I taste, don’t you?”

“Yes, Lady Urbosa. You’re so good, and so rich...it’s better than any dessert I’ve ever had.”

“Well then. Why don’t I treat you?”

She pulled her fingers away, and Impa mourned the loss. That is, until Urbosa parted her stunning legs, lightly biting her nail as she looked at Impa oh so alluringly.

“Devour me, little sheikah girl. Make the great Urbosa cum in her own home.”

“Yes, Lady Urbosa.”

Impa practically dove right in, shoving her face right into her, with a monster grip to her big, meaty thighs.

“Oh! EAGER little fox!”

Urbosa laughed, wrapping her legs around her head, keeping her nestled right where she was. Impa didn’t know if she was doing it right, but that didn’t keep her from enjoying the rich, sweet juices she was pouring down her throat.

“Oh that’s it….ooh you’re SO thirsty for a drink. This IS the first time you’ve tasted a woman. Wait till you make me cum. It’s so sweet, it’ll flood your pretty mouth, and you’ll only want more.”

Impa believed her. It was so delicious, suckling at the folds that hung out of her, watching Urbosa grope and pinch at her own chest in an attempt to make her cum faster. Impa had no idea sex was like this. Full of discovery and interest. She pulled away for air, for but a brief moment, shaking as if she was exhausted.

“PLEASE give me a taste, Urbosa! I NEED to know how a woman tastes when she cums! Please please please!”

Impa did her part, diving right back in. It smelled...different than how she imagined. It didn’t smell like roses or candy, but smelled musky, lewd. And she loved it. Impa loved how it tasted NOTHING like she had thought they would. It was so much better, knowing the truth. Even the sounds were better. Cute moans were nice, but Urbosa was LOUD, hungry to chase her orgasm.

“I’m SO close, I’m SO close, just keep DEVOURING me!!”

Her moans were passionate, so full of emotion, it was breathtaking. But not as breathtaking as when she dug her nails into her hair, forced her nose into her pubic hair, and came. She cried out as she did so, and Impa was stunned. So much hot fluid spilled into her mouth, feeling hot as it trickled down her throat. Women...tasted SO good when they came. Urbosa swore a bit in relief, letting Impa’s soaked face finally be free. Impa sat there, panting, cum covering her face, before she spoke.

“That...was incredible. Women taste so...so good.”

Impa dove in for another kiss, which Urbosa accepted, simultaneously digging her nails into her ass. Impa moaned loudly, FAR louder than she had to anything else, and that made Urbosa chuckle.

“Hmmm...something to explore later. For now, let’s focus on something other than eating, you’re already pretty good at that, even by eagerness alone.”

Urbosa laid on her side, pulling Impa right up to her. Urbosa kissed her cheek, before she hiked one of her legs over hers.

“U-urbosa-”

Urbosa’s fingers slowly rubbed her soaked little pussy in small, slow circles. All while her other hand was cupping at her small, soft breast. She chuckled into her cute little ear, loving how it shook her whole body.

“Pay close attention to how this feels, Impa. First, we rub the outside, nice and slowly. You treat your woman like art. With tenderness, passion...a bit of awe, even.”

Impa couldn’t say anything as Urbosa trailed kisses up her neck, all while oh she oh so slowly rubbed at her outside. So slowly and tenderly, smearing her own pussy juices across her own pubic hair.

“Take this time to sweet talk her. Tell her something you like. For example, I like how you’ve never shaved. It’s the right amount of cute little hair down here, and it’s oh so precious. See? You whimpered at that.”

Impa was hiding her face in her hand, trying not to moan like crazy. The way she held her legs open, the way her hands massaged her in a way her own hands never did, even the way she whispered in her ear.

“I didn’t...know I’m supposed to shave.”

“You don’t have to, most do however. It just really shows that you have so little experience. It’s SO cute, you’re lucky I didn’t bring my guards in here, they’d eat you up.”

She even nipped at her neck, as if that’d prove her point further. Impa put her hand over Urbosa’s, trying to get a feel for that slow rhythm she was setting.

“C...can you put it in yet?”

“Mmmm...not just yet, little fox. Unless you’d ask nicely, then I suppose I could speed things up.”

Impa had so much pride inside of her, it was so difficult to swallow it all, but she made herself do just that.

“Please Urbosa...I want to know how to do this properly, for her. I want her to feel like this. Please, don’t make me suffer by not letting me feel you.”

“Oh how am I supposed to say no to that?”

Urbosa chuckled. Kissing her forehead, she finally pushed a finger in. Not too quickly, not too toughly. Just enough to get that breath of hers hitching, and her body shaking. Urbosa still kept it nice and slow, merely teasing her already soaked insides. Impa was already so ready to cum, it was just the cutest thing. Urbosa kissed her neck again, watching her shake even further.

“There we go. See how slowly I’m going? See how I’m looking for that nice, steady pace? I’m looking for something. Something very-”

She swore she saw that shiver travel up her spine. There it was. Her cute G-spot. She kissed at her nose, before keeping their foreheads pressed together.

“Pay attention. Because once you master this, I doubt any woman could keep their hands off of you.”

Once she slipped another finger inside, she began her attack. Normally she wouldn’t do this to such a newbie, but she couldn’t help it. Her pussy was so eager to learn, her body was lithe and soft, and her voice. Oh her voice. Her cries of ecstasy as she fingered her cute little pussy so quickly was enough to make a heart melt. Impa kept crying out in pleasure, squirming as she felt herself quickly being shoved right off the edge. The lewd sounds of her wet pussy only made this more tasty to the Gerudo woman.

“U-urbosa! Oh my GOD URBOSA!!”

“Look at me in my eyes. That’s it, good girl. You’re going to cum, and it’s going to feel so good. Remember it, so SHE can feel good. This is for Zelda. So when you cum, cry for her, understand?”

“Yes! Yes yes YES!-”

Poor thing was near tears. Urbosa could see her eyes get misty in lust, and with a rather adorable squeal, she came, crying out the princess’s name as she slipped into pleasure, the likes of which she had never seen. It was so much, she just sat there, limp like a fish, gasping for air. Urbosa chuckled, slowly pulling her fingers out and taking a long, good lick of them. Ah, the cum of a lovely little virgin. Such a treat.

“Now, if you do all of that, little fox, suffice to say, she’ll be putty in your hands. Assuming you’ll be alright after this?”

Impa, though trembling, gave her a thumbs up.

“H..holy shit...I...i really like girls.”

[clnriswood]

ARCHIE ANDREWS X READER

Big Little Town: Part Four

a/n: so happy to be back on this series -- also -- first chapter at rdh! prepare for a world of pain, hehe. don’t forget to ask to join our tag list! x

gif dobhennig

tag list: @my-soul-is-the-moon @lghenry4 @megumii-606 @a-littlebreak-for-b

. . . 

First day of school. Again. Except this time the girl was going to put forward her best foot, as she had no intention of letting her troubled past or awfully introverted persona be the talk of the school. When she awoke that morning her alarm had yet to go off, for her nerves alone brought her stinging eyes open. She lay on her back, staring at the ceiling and listening to the thrum of her heart until her alarm rang, at which point she coolly turned it off and sat up with an extended sigh. The girl flipped on a lamp switch and headed for the shower, scrubbed herself three times over, washed and curled her hair, and grabbed the outfit she’d hung the night before. To make sure it was suitable for a first day at Riverdale High she’d sent a message to Betty for help, at which point Betty re-directed her to Veronica, at which point Veronica, appalled by her choice of jeans and a plain shirt, fixed the girl up with something better.

Standing in front of the mirror, the girl gave a long sigh and fluffed up her hair with the tips of her fingers. She wore a satin rosy crop top with thin straps that clutched tightly to her skin, a short black skirt that swirled around her hips, and some tannish ankle high boots with thickly chunked heels. This was certainly far classier than she normally would’ve gone for school, but first impressions were apparently important as ever at Riverdale. The girl caught herself scowling at her reflection, at which point she leaned forward, topped up her sheer lip gloss, and practiced smiling… literally. After giving up shortly after, she resumed her scowl, picked up her black leather backpack, and went to open her thin white curtains. As she did so, none other than Archie Andrews caught her eye.

He was wearing only boxers and a pair of black jeans, leaving his completely exposed chest open to the glittering sunbeams that seeped into his room. He’d let out a huge yawn, one hand running through his auburn locks, and his eyes were adorably sleepy. The girl felt a lump grow in her throat when her eyes caught sight of the not-so-subtle six pack Archie was sporting, one that was deathly attractive and connected sharply to the prominent V shape that connected from his hips to his-- well--

Archie, locking eyes with her, went still. His eyes seemed to glaze over the same exact way hers surely had done when she looked at him. Both of them just kind of stood there for a good few seconds, like deer in the headlights, absorbing one another. Then the girl, awkwardly shooting her gaze from his abs and to the ceiling with a forced fake cough, turned and bolted from her room. Archie, seeing this, fumbled to grab his dark blue Riverdale hoodie, and pulled it over his head as he too went stumbling away. The girl met her mother on the stairs, insisting they leave now, and went speedily out the front door to avoid making further contact with Archie after that embarrassing incident. But they hadn’t made it two feet onto the grass before Archie came jogging out to meet them.

“Mrs. (Y/L/N)!’ he called, panting and giving a jovial wave and smile.

The girl’s mother smiled sleepily, “good morning Archie.”

“Morning,” he said through a short breath, stopping to meet the two in the middle of the lawn.

The morning dew settled on the girl’s shoes, as she dug her heel nervously into the ground and pursed her lips into one of her fake smiles and grumbled a hello.

“Mrs. (Y/L/N),” he said again, slinging his bag over his shoulders, “I was wondering if I could take your daughter to school, since it’s her first day.”

Please say no.

Her mother raised her brows with a smile, “that sounds lovely, actually. My work is on the other side of town so it’d be a big help.”

Fuck.

“Doesn’t that sound lovely?” her mother elbowed her with a very obvious wink.

The girl widened her eyes in horror and her mother’s indiscretion, to which Archie, completely obliviously, beamed.

“Right,” the girl laughed uncomfortably, raising her eyes to Archie’s big brown one’s.

And he looked so excited that she couldn’t help but soften, giving him a genuine smile, “it does.”

“Great,” Archie nodded, giving her mother a squeeze, “have a great day at work ma’am.”

“Thank you Archie,” her mother cooed.

As the girl followed Archie, she threw a glance over at her mother, who raised two giant thumbs up, making the girl go beet red as she tried desperately to get away faster.

Archie went ahead, unlocking his truck and opening the girl’s door for her with a happy little grin. She climbed in, sighing with nerves as Archie entered beside her and brought his truck roaring to life. But before he pulled out, he turned to look at her, his eyes flashing with like.

“You look really nice,” he said, clearing his throat and giving her a timid smile.

She felt herself stiffen, “thanks, Archie. So do you.”

At this Archie glanced down at his own clothes, checking himself out skeptically like she must be unaware of what she’d just said. But she’d meant it. Only Archie Andrews could make a hoodie and jeans look that flattering.

“Thanks?” he raised his brows with a chuckle. The girl just let out an airy laugh and turned her eyes to the road as he pulled his car back and made way down the scenic road. They didn’t talk much on the way to school. The churning in her stomach made her too nervous to. But Archie didn’t force it, he just kept his eyes forward with contently upturned lips. It looked like he was keeping on his promise to look out for her after all.

. . .

The halls were packed at the school. Blue lockers were thrown open and swarmed by students of all sorts, most of whom seemed to be completely familiar with one another. It was for that reason that it was unsurprising to see them collectively taking second looks when they realized there was fresh meat walking down the hallway, accompanied by Archie himself. At times when she’d been jostled she’d wanted to reach for his arm, but resisted the ridiculous urge by folding her arms tight over her chest. Soon thereafter she saw a blonde ponytail bouncing down the hall.

“(Y/N),” Betty beamed, “I see you had a chat with V.”

Betty herself wore a pink sweater with little polka dots, tucked neatly into her skinny blue jeans. It was weirdly suited for her.

“You look great,” she elaborated. Then, turning, she said, “here’s your locker, it’s near mine.”

Betty brought the girl to the locker located to the right of her own, whispering, “I made sure they gave you this one.”

“Thanks,” the girl smiled bashfully, unloading her schoolbooks into the locker by her new friend.

Archie stayed quiet the whole time, leaning lazily onto the next locker down as he surveyed the two.

“If you get lost at lunch just look for me and Jug. Oh, and we have AP Gov together by the way,” Betty continued on, handing the girl her schedule which was neatly printed onto a crisp white sheet of paper. “And Psychology!”

“Great,” the girl said, feeling a little overwhelmed.

Archie pried the paper from her hands, noting, “my first period is with you.”

An unfamiliar voice chimed in, “mine too.”

The girl brought her eyes slowly up to look behind Archie’s shoulder, where a fiery redheaded girl stood.

“Cheryl Blossom,” the girl extended her perfectly manicured hand.

Her long red hair fell perfectly around her pale face and perfect features, and her bright red lips bent upwards into a smile as she stepped confidently forward. The girl felt instantly intimidated.

“(Y/N)(Y/L/N),” she replied, extending a nervous hand in return.

Cheryl shook it firmly, “I know. Well, I know of you.”

The girl raised a confused brow, to which Cheryl leaned forward, whispering, “you’re not the only Riverdale nutcase around.”

She felt her heart drop.

“Don’t ask,” Cheryl cut her off before she could open her mouth, “I know everything about everyone. But don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me, new girl.”

Archie and Betty, who were just close enough to hear her whisperings, exchanged confused glances. But Cheryl just smiled and pulled away, patting at her red dress with a clear of her throat.

“Anyways,” she said, loudly this time. “I’m having a seniors only party this Friday, you know, to kick off the school year, and I hope to see you there. Until then, first period,” she winked and gracefully swept away, leaving the girl with an opened mouth and glazed eyes, which were interrupted only by the sound of the bell.

Betty, bewildered as ever, said her goodbyes, Archie looking similarly confused as he escorted the still dazed girl into a nearby classroom where she’d be studying-- literature-- according to the whiteboard her eyes landed upon. The boy took a seat near the back, hitting off a fellow classmate so the girl could sit beside him. This fellow classmate looked displeased until he saw what, or who rather, this was for.

He was tall with jet black hair that was slicker perfectly atop his head, minus a loose stray dangling in front of his dark eyes, He wore a Riverdale jersey and a kind of permanent smolder, and he extended a hand to the girl as she sunk into her seat.

“And who might this be?”

“(Y/N),” the girl responded as the room’s lights and sounds came back into focus, her eyes now preoccupied with the rather attractive boy who towered over her.

She took the boy’s firm hand, to which he smirked a “Reggie” in reply. “You didn’t tell me the new girl was hot,” Reggie said quite loudly to Archie as he continued shaking her hand, to which the both of them grew red.

“Shut up Reggie,” they said in unison, making the boy snicker.

He beamed, flickering his finger between the both of them, “that’s funny. You two are funny.”

“Take a seat, mister Mantle,” a stern female voice said from the front of the classroom.

Reggie, obeying the teacher, scoffed and took his seat in front of (Y/N), keeping his eyes lingering on her for a second longer than comfortable. He soon after procured a notebook, tore a sheet out, and began jotting away with a stray pen. As the teacher gave her introductions, Reggie leaned back and stretched over his head, dropping the paper onto the girl’s desk. Baffled, she unfolded it.

Want a date to Cheryl’s?

The girl felt herself grow warm in surprise. Clearly this boy got straight to the point with things, she thought. As she picked up her own pen she saw Archie leaning not so subtly over to get a look at the paper, at which she chuckled softly and moved it out of his view.

Wasn’t planning on going.

She folded the paper neatly up as a student began passing around textbooks, giving her enough of a distraction to pass the paper onto Reggie.

She’d meant what she wrote. Parties weren’t really her scene, especially not one led by the girl who apparently knew everything about everyone. The thought alone made her stomach churn, at which she recalled the note she’d received the night earlier, one she’d stashed away in her dresser the minute she’d gotten inside. Maybe it was someone playing some sick practical joke oh her, or something. Maybe Cheryl knew.

Reggie apparently read over the reply, as he had turned back in his seat to give the girl an unimpressed raise of his brows. He dropped his voice an octave and leaned into her to mouth a quiet reply.

“Change your mind.”

His voice raised a little at the end like it might be posed as a question, but the confidence in his tone simultaneously ruled that out, making it instead appear as a heavily influenced suggestion.

“Mr. Mantle,” the voice from the front of the classroom called sternly again.

He gave an exasperated sigh, running his long fingers through his jet black locks as he gave a disgruntled “ma’am” and resumed his silence.

Archie gave an inaudible scoff, his steely eyes remaining forward for the rest of the class.

. . .

“What did Reggie want?”

Not two seconds after class ended and Archie was on her case about it, blindly trailing her out of the classroom with his fists stuffed cooly into the front pocket of his hoodie.

The girl shrugged half heartedly as they entered the hallway, “he asked to escort me to Cheryl’s.”

“Oh,” Archie said, quickly clearing his throat and trying at it again when he realized it came off sounding upset. “And what’d you say?”

The girl stopped at her locker, leaning against it to look at the stony faced boy and feeling herself getting caught up in his stupid gorgeous eyes.

“N-nothing,” she shook her head with a sharp inhale, “I said I wasn’t going.”

“Oh?” the boy replied.

“Yeah uh, not my thing,” she pursed her lips with a shrug, leaving out the other little part from her reasoning. “Are you going?”

“We are!” a voice exclaimed.

Veronica Lodge seemingly poofed into existence behind Archie, wrapping her arms around his back with a big grin, “right Archiekins?”

She wore a black dress and sleek matching heels, something that, once again, only she could seemingly pull off at school.

Archie blinked down at his girlfriend in surprise, giving her a squeeze back, “uh, yep. We are.”

“Cool,” the girl feigned interest, switching out the books from her locker before shutting it a little too hard.

“Walk you to your next class?” he perked up hopefully.

But the sight before her was making her grow increasingly uncomfortable, and somehow the thought of the two of them trailing behind her to class entwined like that did the opposite of reassure her, so she gave a forced smile and happy wave of her schedule.

“I’ve got it, actually. But, thanks.”

The rest of the day sort of blurred past in a haze. The classes were fine. The people were fine. Everything was… just alright. It didn’t seem like there was anyone or anything in particular to cause her worry. She’d met a few new people, one of whom went by Toni Topaz and fought Reggie off with a textbook when he tried sitting by the girl in calculus. Turns out she was Cheryl’s girlfriend, which she wouldn’t have guessed from their stark differences in personalities, but seemed generally lovely. She’d also sat with Betty, Archie, Jughead, and Veronica at lunch, but felt herself the target for many eyes in the cafeteria, and a major fifth wheel to say the least. At the end of the day, she found herself alone in the halls, at which point she checked the coast before promptly slamming her forehead into the locker with a groan. It was going to be a long year, she knew that much. Taking a deep breath, she aligned her back once more and gathered her thoughts. While going home now was certainly an option, she couldn’t help but recall Archie’s mention of some sort of cheer team. Of course, she had no interest in joining, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t check it out, right? At least, that’s what she told herself as her feet took her striding down the halls and onto the back field, where she was greeted by a blast of light to the eyes.

Shielding her face, she approached the neat green grass and uniform clad girls who were assembling on it. They were led by none other than Cheryl, who was barking inaudibly at them all from a high chair. With her were Toni, Veronica, and about a dozen others. The girl felt her stomach lurch at just the sight of all of them, but what really did it for her was seeing the boys run in from the opposite end of the field, led by Archie, of course, who hadn’t noticed her. His eyes had fallen right on the raven haired girl, not that she was blaming him. The sweaty auburn haired boy, suited full in his football uniform, jogged over to his girlfriend for a short lived embrace and kiss on the lips, which brought the bystanding girl swiftly back to reality. Realizing where she was and the stupidity of what she was doing, she stumbled backwards in a frantic effort to leave. Of course, in her panic, she twisted her ankle and yelped in hurt, drawing attention from all on the field.

“Joining us?” Cheryl snapped from her chair, her big red lips parted.

Archie squinted sunbeams from his brown eyes, an attractive slick dripping from his brows as his mouth hung open in a half smile at her.

“Um,” she yelled back awkwardly, “no.”

“Come on, (Y/N)!” Veronica encouraged with a dazzling flash of her teeth. “Come try out!”

“Yeah!” Archie beamed hopefully.

The girl just stood there, eyes flickering between the teens who stood awaiting her reply. She was suddenly very aware of the blistering heat that chomped at her flesh. And then there came no reply. Rather, she hooked her fingers in her bag straps and bolted back into the doors from which she came before she could answer in full. Panting and red in the cheeks, the girl half-sprinted down the halls in an effort to distance herself from her painfully awkward encounter. She wasn’t halfway out of the school before Betty came bobbing into sight, however.

The peppy blonde smiled a big hello as she interjected her in her path, “what are you doing here?”

The girl stuttered a wordless reply and rubbed at her temple, not sure how to explain what’d just gone through her dumb head. Luckily, Betty seemed to piece the answer together for herself.

“You weren’t trying out for the Vixens, were you?” she chuckled.

“Uh,” the girl laughed sheepishly, “I considered it.”

“And?” Betty smirked knowingly.

“Not for me,” she laughed with embarrassment.

Betty grinned, “don’t worry, me neither. I used to think it was, but the only reason I really joined back in freshman year was because I liked Archie.”

Pure panic ensued.

“Ridiculous, right?” Betty chortled on.

“Yeah,” the girl snorted unconvincingly, “ridiculous.”

Betty arched her brow ever so slightly with faint curiosity, but she dropped it and gave her the benefit of the doubt.

“Anyways, what’re you doing?” the girl asked in an effort to divert the subject.

“Oh, I work yearbook after school sometimes,” Betty explained.

“Ah,” the girl nodded in understanding, her lips pressing together. Then, not having anything else to say, she concluded, “well, have fun!”

But she hadn’t raised a toe before Betty stopped her in her tracks, her pony swinging as she gave her new friend a warm smile and a cheeky perk of her brows, “wanna help?”

. . .

Yearbook was much more her pace. It was calm, organized, came with good company, and most importantly, was air conditioned. Betty walked the girl through her usual procedures, and soon enough they were both at work, sometimes in silence, sometimes making easy conversation. The girl’s creativity along with Betty’s logical practices mingled well. Afterwards, Betty offered the girl a ride, to which she now happily obliged. On their way out of the abandoned classroom they were held up in, the doors down the hall came bursting open, at which point the cheer and football team made its way flooding down their direction. The stench of hot grass and sweat followed them in. At their front, Reggie led the pack, his long black locks plastered to his forehead and his chest heaving as he took swigs of the icy water contained in the bottle he held. The girl made the mistake of stopping in her tracks to stare, gaining her an instant visit from the boy, who swaggered his way over to her as the students passed. Betty’s eyes flicked between Reggie and the girl once, twice, and a third time before she put together what was happening and sauntered in the other direction with a giggle.

“Betty!” she called, “my ride?”

Betty didn’t even turn her head as she replied, “meet me out front when you’re done.”

The girl sucked in an annoyed breath and forced her eyes up to the boy who towered above her, “yes?”

Reggie sniggered, “hey now, sass.”

Her pursed lips softened into the smallest of smiles.

“Reggie,” she said.

“(Y/N),” he beamed back, flashing her one of those killer smiles. “Reconsider my offer?”

The girl gave a sarcastic laugh, “you’re persistent, Mantle.”

His dark eyes flashed with like, “mhm?”

“But I’m still not interested,” she said, running her tongue lightly over her teeth and avoiding eye contact with the impossibly attractive boy before her.

Her gaze, looking for anywhere else to land, settled on Archie, who just now emerged from the pool of light at the end of the hall, his arm loose around his girlfriend’s shoulder. He looked surprisingly clean in comparison to the other boys, she noticed. Likely this was Veronica’s work. The two smiled at each other, inseparable as they made their way down the hall. Archie’s large hazel stare seemed to suddenly gravitate to the girl’s, like he knew she was watching, at which point she snapped her jaw firmly back up to Reggie.

Reggie, unbothered, continued.

“Not true,” he hummed, his lips twitching into that infuriating smirk.

“What’s not?” her brows furrowed in mild aggravation.

“You not being interested,” he shrugged with a tilt of his head.

“Oh yeah, Mantle?” she crinkled her nose and folded her arms.

“Yeah,” he chuckled amusedly, “otherwise you wouldn’t be flirting with me right now.”

Her eyes went steely and her jaw went stiff, the girl’s blood suddenly sounding very loud in her ears as she brushed off his remark with a grumble.

“Come on,” he pleaded, extending his large hands and peeling the girl’s arms from her chests so he could hold her little wrists in them. His eyes softened in menacing adoration, “please?”

Feeling her face flush, she stuttered wordlessly and found her eyes wandering, once again, back to Archie’s. Archie was now standing up against his locker, waiting for her, as Veronica leaned into his front, her view of the two obscured. He seemed to watch her with some sort of unidentifiable expression, his forehead creasing as he observed Reggie’s gentle grip on the girl. But whatever strange thing he was thinking was interrupted by Veronica leaning up to kiss his lips, at which point any trace of him that could be read was stifled.

“Yes,” the girl decided at once.

Reggie’s lips split into one of those huge grins, “wait, really?”

The girl sighed in defeat and tucked a lip between her teeth, “what can I say, Reggie? You’re persistent.”

“YES!”

He whooped, releasing her wrists so he could half dance half punch the air. It was ridiculous. And cute.

The boy beamed down at her and flickered his black eyes over hers, his gaze softening like he wanted to, well, kiss her or something. But like a gentleman, he didn’t. Instead, he once more reached for the girl’s wrist, bringing a hand up to his lips, where he pecked her gently with a stupid little laugh, making her half scowl half chortle in embarrassment.

“Pick you up Friday?” he winked, releasing her.

“Whatever,” she shrugged, not giving him the satisfaction of her flattery as she pursed her lips in an attempt to suppress her smile.

Reggie half walked half skipped down the rest of the hall, turning a good few times to throw her glances as he disappeared out of sight. Once the coast was cleared and the halls had drained empty, Archie’s voice rang out.

“(Y/N),” he said.

She turned to meet him. Veronica now stood beside him, fingers intertwined with the ginger’s ones. Archie looked like he had something sour in his mouth.

“Uh, can I- do you-” he started, his words coming fast and tripping confusedly one after the other. He shook his head and pressed his tongue to his teeth, trying again. “Need a ride?”

She shook her head, “thanks, Archie, but I’m good.”

She gave him a little smile, which he exchanged for a forced one of his own, “alright.”

And he watched her go.

. . .

The ride home was hazy. The girl’s head was swimming with thoughts, the last day playing over in her mind like tapes. Betty exclaimed gleefully at her newfound interest in Reggie, adding that it was no wonder she’d been interested in joining the Vixens. By this she meant to get closer to Reggie, of course. The girl played it off accordingly. After Betty dropped the girl home, she made her way across the stone path towards the little red door. There was a little pep to her step, a hopeful sway that told her maybe this year wouldn’t be so bad after all. But her thoughts were short lived, when they focused instead on the new note that lay upon her doorstep.

I’m watching.

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Imagine:

Reader working in retail dealing with a rude customer and Erik is a regular who steps in to put the customer in their place.

“Who the fuck is the manager for this place?”

An angry white woman with thin brunette hair wearing a floral blouse with navy blue slacks marches into a thrift record and book store located in Soho. She had an old record in her hand; a Hall and Oates classic. Looking around with beady angry eyes, she presses her thin chapped lips into a hard line.

“Hellloooo?!!! I said who is the got damn manager of this dump?!!”

Y/N, the manager in question, was ringing up a few customers, wishing them a good day before closing her register. She heard the loud woman loud and clear. Y/N had dealt with this same woman and her daughter on plenty of occasions but they still decided to show their faces. If you had a problem with the thrift store why continue to come back? She wasn’t going to entertain them today.

“Y/N, you want me to call the police?” Y/N’s cousin, Layla, came into the thrifted shop to help every now and then.

“No, it’s cool. I can deal with it. Just get the bat ready just in case I gotta crack some skulls open.”

Clearly, the woman and her daughter didn’t know who they were messing with. Y/N is skilled in jujitsu and she could swing a bat at your ass like you were a baseball. She had to do that to some drunk man one evening who thought he would come in and rob her.

“How about that African stick that Erik got for you? The Nguni stick?”

A sly smirk slid across her face at the mention of his name. Erik Stevens was a regular of hers at the thrift shop. He would come to see her almost every night since he lived in a fancy condo in Soho, Manhattan. Layla was convinced that Erik had a huge crush on Y/N but a man like him couldn’t crush on Y/N. He was gorgeous. Full head of short moisturized dreads, fresh shape up, smelling like coco butter and mango butter, skin smooth and blemish free minus the smooth cemetrical scars on his arms. Manicured nails, white teeth, smooth moisturized lips, muscles everywhere, a deep raspy voice with an allure that has her weak in the knees. Y/N could talk about Erik all damn day and swoon.

“Yeah, bring out the Nguni.”

Y/N adjusted her skater skirt before walking around the register to approach the angry white woman. Her daughter was just behind her with arms folded and a scowl on her face. Let the bitch try something. They were just jealous because Y/N made more profit than they did at that musty ass boutique they owned. Hating ass bitches.

“Can I help you?!” Y/N approached with obvious annoyance.

“I want a fucking refund!!” The woman shook the record in Y/N’s face with rage.

“This piece of shit won’t play!!! You gave me a fucked up record and I want my damn money back.”

“Non-refundable.” Y/N cut the woman off sharply.

“Excuse me?” The daughter decides th speak up now.

“I SAID. Non-refundable. Now can y’all please leave my fucking store this is a regular thing with y’all two.”

Both of their faces grew red like a beet. Y/N was ready to handle their ass if they tried anything.

“See, what kind of owner tells their customer that? You are supposed to be selling good quality items at a thrifted price and you can’t even do that?” The woman expected her words to cut deep but they didn’t.

“Sounds like hate to me. Now it’s time for y’all to go and don’t come back I’m sick of seeing y’all face. Y’all supposed to be running a boutique, right? Ain’t making no money coming up in here with all that bullshit.”

At that point, both the woman and her daughter walked closer like they wanted to do something. Layla walks around the counter, Nguni stick in hand. Luckily there were no other customers in sight. Too late, the door opens and in walks Erik Stevens dressed in an oversized denim jacket, white t-shirt, black cargo pants, and some black timbs. The smile on his face faded once he saw the angry glare on Y/N’s beautiful face.

“Y/N, what’s going on, baby girl?” Erik steps forward, shoulders squared. The sound of his voice made Y/N’s heart melt. She looked up at him, eyes softer now and eyelashes batting like an innocent girl.

“Don’t worry yourself handsome, they’ll be gone real soon.”

The woman looked over her shoulder at Erik, looking him up and down with disgust. Erik was used to that look and it wasn’t about to faze him at all.

“Got a problem with your eyes?” He says while taking his place next to Y/N.

“Are you her husband or something?” The daughter asks with interest. She was loving the sight of Erik and it made Y/N want to gag.

“Dont worry about all that. What’s the problem?” Erik folds his toned arms across his chest, legs in a wide stance.

“I want my money back that’s what,” the woman points to the record angrily again, “it won’t play! She’s selling items that are damaged! I need my money now or I’m not leaving.”

“Oh, you’re leaving. Now.” Erik says with a predatory voice. The woman and her daughter slightly jump at the change in tone. No longer was it smooth and hypnotic. It was dangerous and scary.

“Andrea, call your father,” the woman asks in a hurry.

“Bring your husband and watch I toss his ass out of here.” Erik laughs.

“ARE YOU THREATENING MY HUSBAND?!!” At this point the woman was beyond distraught. She looked like she wanted to cry. What did she think she was coming in here to get her way? It doesn’t work like that.

“You, your husband, your daughter,” Y/N says with a sly smirk, “step foot in here again and see what happens.”

“Free country!” The daughter, Andrea, yells over her mothers shoulder, a pinched look on her face and her chin held high like she was something.

“Layla, pass me my stick,” Y/N reached for the stick, grabbing it in hand to show them that she wasn’t all talk. She meant business.

“Look, she’s gonna use her stick. Do that and we’ll call the police.”

“Nothing new with y’all people anyway. Why don’t y’all just get the fuck out?! You don’t want Y/N and Layla to put hands on y’all, right?” Erik was just as fed up with the shit. Even in this moment Y/N was extremely turned on.

This was going on long enough. Y/N could tell that the woman and her daughter were loosing it, realizing that they weren’t going to get their way with this.

“Well? I don’t see y’all moving.” Erik barks out. The door to the shop opens and a stout man with grey receding hair and a mustache that reminded you of the end of a broom steps forward with his fists balled like he was about to do something.

“What the hell is the problem!!!” He yells. He sounded like a sailor. A fucking Popeye.

“Nothing, dear, go back to the shop.”

“Oh, there is a problem. Andrea texts me about coming here because some man is making threats to my family! My brother is a detective he will have you arrested, pal!”

He wagged his finger at Erik who stood there with a wide grin.

“Go ahead, super Mario looking mother fucker. Shit don’t faze me. All I’m saying is, your salty ass wife and daughter need to bounce. This ain’t their place, they are trespassing.”

Erik Shrugs, “so what’s it gonna be? Cuz y’all getting too comfortable.”

The woman and her husband share looks while Andrea watches from the door with a sour expression.

“...Becky, lets go.”

The mention of her name made Y/N laugh. Erik had to nudge her shoulder to stop her before he broke out into a fit. He needed to keep it serious if these people were to leave. Finally.

“No! No Robert!” She was on the verge of tears.

“Becky...we have to close up shop. Plus, let’s not get involved with these types of people. You don’t know what they are capable of. One of them has a damn stick dont be surprised if they don’t have a gun.”

His words cut deeply. He knew what he was doing saying that. Erik’s eyes squinted at the man, his jaw clenched tightly. He was trying his hardest to keep his cool after that purposeful comment. He wanted to provoke them so they could give him a reason to call the police or continue to stereotype them.

“FINE!!!” She throws the record down, the sound of it breaking catching all of their attention. Without a care, she turns, pushing past Robert and her daughter to leave. Robert gives Erik and the others one final look before leaving himself, stepping on the record with a stomp before exiting. Layla, Erik, and Y/N watch the doors close, all of them collectively sighing before shaking their heads.

“Some bullshit,” Layla says, “makes me wanna follow them and beat their ass.

“AINT worth it, shorty,” Erik says with an exhausting voice, “they gone, let them go back to that funky ass store and continue to hate on Y/N.”

Erik pulls Y/N in for a tight hug, “I don’t play with that shit. Fucking with my girl like that. Mad she flexing on y’all.”

Y/N allowed herself to smell Erik. He smelled just as tantalizing as he always did. He was so warm and big, big in a protective way. She loved the fact that she could feel every single muscle through his thick layer of clothes. His lips pressed into her forehead.

“You knew I had to stop by before I headed home, girl,” Erik pulls away from her, looking from the stick he gifted her to her pretty face. He never got the courage to ask her on a date but Erik knew she was feeling him just as much as he was.

“I was wondering when you would come by,” she looks away shyly, “thanks for sticking up for me, you didn’t have to.”

“What I just say?” Erik arches a single brow. Y/N licks her lips nervously.

“You hear me talking to you?” He grabs both sides of her face, making her look up at him.

“No body. Messes with. My girl.”

His words cut deeply like a sharp knife. She could feel it sinking deeply within her veins. His girl. That’s what he referred to her as.

“Okay...” she was being timid. Erik laughs, his hands on her waist.

“You got them books I wanted? The Malcom X ones?”

Y/N knew Erik could buy them online but he wanted to be near her. She fought to squeal about that.

“Yeah, I saved them just for you.”

“Good, show me.”

[sonipanda]

New brand alert to the blog – which I am totally hyped about! This brand is pretty new and is already making a great impression

Now this review will be slightly different than my usual as I wanna get as much info across to you all the best I can regarding Hēdoïne.

The Bold Spec

Colour: Black

Size: XS – S

Denier: 20 body / 40 reinforced parts

Materials: 70% Nylon & 30% Spandex

Price: £28.00

Website: Hēdoïne – The Bold

About Hēdoïne

From The Website:

ALL BLACK – LIKE YOUR HUMOUR

Ladder-free / run-resistant & seamless tights

With ladder-free guarantee!

We set the bar in comfort, quality, and style. Soft, ladder-free and seamless tights made in Italy – tights as they should be. One less thing to worry about on your busy schedule

20 DEN

seamless & soft

high and low slimming waistband

elegant patterns

highest quality yarns

modern 3D knitting techniques

made in Italy

no more pressure marks, no sagging and no seams that shine through your dress

  Ladder-Free: Through the combination of innovative yarns and then newest 3D knitting techniques, our tights do not ladder or run. They are 20 denier and thus, not nondestructive, but a lot more durable than normal tights. So, even if a small hole might occur at some point it will not spread down your leg – guaranteed! Otherwise you will receive a refund.

Waistband: Our tights come with two different waistbands: In low (9 cm / 3.5 inches) and in high (15 cm / 6 inches). The low waistband slims the hips and is perfect for skirts or simply when you do not like your stomach to be covered. The high waistband is great to slim and shape your silhouette and tummy.

Washing: Wash at 30 Celsius. Do not dry, do not iron, do not bleach.

Pregnancy: You might wonder whether you can wear our tights during pregnancy? Yes, you can! While they are not maternity tights per se, our Hedoines find the high waistband very comfortable in the first few months.

  About The Brand:

The brand was founded by Alex and Anna, who were working for many years in banking and consulting and did not enjoy wearing tights to work. Hēdoïne is a bold luxury brand that aims to bring innovation to every piece of the business outfit – starting with the biggest pain point: tights! Hēdoïne is a brand that caters to strong energetic women with high aspirations, who are same time outgoing and do not take themselves too seriously.

  Product & Production:

They have reinvented business tights by combining the highest quality yarns with innovative 3D knitting techniques to make them ladder-resistant and very soft, as they should be. They are produced in Italy, seamless and come in low and high slimming waistband heights for a perfect fit.

They are made with anti-bacterial and anti-odour fabrics. Expressive patterns around the waistband and under the toes reflect elegance in every detail and make Hēdoïne tights are a true part of the business outfit – and a fashion statement.

Currently, they have three models with low and high waistband each and will offer more nude colours in January to cater for all skin tones.

In comparison to the mass production of other competitors, Hēdoïne tights are hand finished with a lot of attention to detail. Hēdoïne produces in Europe with certifications that protect labour and the environment, for example: Fair pay check, male and female staff members receive equal wages for work of equal value, no child labour or excessive overtime, worker have rights like freedom of opinion, are protected by law against for example physical, sexual or physiological harassment.

Low environment impact, e.g. water is being cleaned before being remitted in the environment and all products are high biodegradable (harmful chemicals avoided, even if they are not yet legally regulated)

All products used during the production are safe for humans and environment.

Soni’s Review

The Packaging: I gotta say their packaging is super impressive. I was completely taken back by how beautifully they were presented. Through the door, they come in a branded bubble envelope, with a satin pouch which carries the hosiery.

I was blessed enough to try out the high and low waisted pairs in ‘The Bold’ collection. These came in small plastic packaging (small note – this will be replaced from January onwards with a beautifully designed recycled paper envelope.)

  Out Of The Packaging: I decided to get all up close and personal here; I wanted to show you all what to expect once you get into the packaging. These are folded down into a small cube. One thing I was impressed with was the foot and leg shaping they have to them, even though these were folded right down.

Normally you won’t find hosiery like this; a good idea to use less packaging materials.

I have to say both pairs are identical (minus the difference in the waistband) but what I did find that the low waisted tights actually came with a snag to begin with. I was so careful when unfolding these to make sure I don’t cause any snags before I even get them on. I have highlighted that below so you can see when it was held up against the light.

The High Waisted Pair

  The Low Waisted Pair

  On The Legs: I am mindblown with how gorgeous they look. My first impression was that these have a slimming effect to them; making your legs look longer and a little more toned. I thank the matte finish on these for that – they truly do work wonders at times!

The denier being 20 gives you great leg coverage, and as these are a matte finish, these will look darker on the legs than other 20 deniers I have done in the past. This is the type to hide leg stubbles (if that’s an issue for you) and gives you a luxury smooth finish.

The quality I have to say is amazing; I did mention that my low waisted pair came with a few snags, but these stayed as snags and became nothing more during the day. Hēdoïne  pride themselves in their ladder-resistant hosiery and I can see why. I hardly got anything after a full day’s wear on both of these. I was super impressed with how amazing the quality is.

**Another little tip is that they actually offer a ladder-free guarantee as well so if you do come across a snag which became a ladder, then get in touch and they will be able to sort it from there so you don’t ever need to feel like you’ve bought a pair and it’s gone to waste!**

Oh and let me mention that these do have a lot of stretch in them; I won’t say it becomes baggy or loose on the legs, but there is enough to make sure your legs are hugged well and you still have breathing room in them. I found these to be super stretchy when I was pulling them up to the point I have to shimmy them down a little as I went too high to begin with!

The overall look of them is just gorgeous; it’s a lovely classy pair which I certainly can’t get enough of. I have come across a few luxe pairs, and I have to say that these are neck in neck with Heist tights.

I love the way they fit, feel and the way they make your legs looks stunningly slim … And the fact that no pressure marks are left behind after a day’s wear which is a rare quality nowadays!

I will mention just in case you are picky like me that these may have some weird markings to them; that I found when I pulled them up higher (which let me remind you is easily done) so don’t worry too much as they begin to fall into place once you start moving in them and the markings do slowly disappear. I also found that rubbing them gently with your hands can help too!

The High Waisted Pair

  The Low Waisted Pair

  The Toes & Ankle:  I gotta say it gets even better when you start moving towards the toes and feet! These come reinforced with a toe panel which then works into a huge sole panel underneath. I really did like the design that works on the panels, and can also be found on the waistband too.

The tights give you plenty of room to wiggle your toes and is free from any added pressure. They allow your feet to breathe which I love 🙂

Around the ankles, they have a lovely smooth wrinkle-free finish, so you don’t ever have to worry about they falling down creating an ankle pile. Just make sure you get the right size!

  The Waistband: so I have to say I was waiting to review this part as the waistband plays a massive part in a pair of tights, especially when you spend most of your life in them like I do! So to begin with, I found these have no gusset or seams, so you use their logo for placement (the logo will sit at the front on the right hand side of you) to make sure you get them on the right way. You can also use the foot and leg shaping as a guide as well.

Oh and that gorgeous design can also be found here too!

Another little gem I found with these is that they have a slight compression piece in the waistband, so it can help slim the figure slightly. I didn’t know that before until I did a little research on them!

And I can’t forget that it’s completely seam-free so you don’t need to worry about lining this up against you. I love the fact that you get this smooth finish on the front and back so you can wear tighter fitted clothing with not having to worry about that pesky seam pushing through!

The low waistband fit me like an absolute dream; it seriously felt like I wasn’t wearing one once I got moving around. I absolutely loved the way they sat on them; they didn’t move out of place at all and actually moved with me rather than staying put making it uncomfortable. These sat below the belly button on me, but I found that to be ok (I normally like it just covering the belly button).

The high waistband was a little more difficult; I wore this with a bodycon dress so I expected it to sit completely flush on me. I found it did to begin with, but if you sit a lot, these might not be ideal. These started to roll down and crinkle quite bad throughout the day, which then started showing through my dress at one stage. I had to roll them down and smooth them out a few times to stop that from repeatedly happening. I got to say it didn’t really work out for me as well as I would have liked it to. These were so comfortable as well; I won’t knock that part but they just didn’t sit like I wanted them to.

The High Waisted Pair

  The Low Waisted Pair

  My Thoughts?

“Is it worth the money?”

I have to say yes it certainly is if you’re after a long-lasting and durable pair of tights. I loved being in mine and the comfort level is just insane. I love the fit and feel of them which makes all the difference. They have so much going for them and I am so glad I got to review them; the ladder-resistant feature, the slimming waistband, the seam-free parts etc. I loved it all!

These have had a lot of praise from media, and I can understand why now. This is certainly a pair I can see making it big!

  The Independent:“(…) Despite catching a nail in them, there was no laddering in this run-resistant pair” – link

Memorandum: “Most Resilient: HEDOINE” – Link

Sheerluxe: “(…) Now the big question: did they rip? Surprisingly, not even a snag, despite only being 20 denier and being worn all day and night. Impressive” – link

Hēdoïne ‘The Bold’ Tights New brand alert to the blog - which I am totally hyped about! This brand is pretty new and is already making a great impression…

[maliby]

Playing dirty / Chapter 1

Pairing: You / Xiumin / Baekhyun

Type: Smut, illegal gambling

Word count: 3,7K

Summary: One night you met Xiumin in an illegal casino and he made you an offer you couldn’t refuse: help him win by cheating and get part of the profit. But one day someone comes in and tests your partnership and relationship. Will you stick with Xiumin? Or will Baekhyun steal you away?

Mini Masterlist

“All-in.” The handsome guy sitting in front of you coldly said while pushing his 50000$ worth of chips forward.

This was your first time in an illegal casino. This one was in the back of a fancy restaurant, normal costumers had no clue of what was going on in the background.

A friend of yours, who worked at the restaurant, told you about this place and you decided to come here and test your luck. There was a huge variety of people here and you knew some of them were dangerous but you didn’t care, you enjoyed the extra danger.

As soon as you arrived you went straight to the poker table, you loved it. You started playing with an ex boyfriend and his friends back in the day but quickly became really good. Of course you always have to have luck on your side, but you felt that you were really good at reading people, even if they were good at bluffing.

Now, you and that handsome guy were the only ones left on the play. There was only one card left to be revealed on the table and as of now you had two pairs: a pair of fives as your starting hand and a pair of sevens on the the table.

It’s risky because he could have another seven, and then he would have three of a kind and he would beat you, but something inside of you was telling you that he was bluffing. You’d seen guys like him everytime you went to these illegal casinos. They see a girl and they imediately underestimate her thinking they can scare her off with bluffs. Not you. You saw right through their bullshit.

“Call.” you said while making eye contact with him, adrenaline pumping through your veins.

“I don’t know if I should call you brave or stupid,” he chuckled.

Both of you showed your hands. As you expected, he was bluffing, he only had the pair of sevens that was on the table. The last card was revealed, and it was another seven, meaning you had a full house, the fourth best hand.

“You can call me what you want sweetie, but as of now you’ll remember me as the girl who took your money,” you winked at him and collected the money.

When you were ready to leave he slowly approached you, slightly touching your shoulder to make you turn to him. It was only at this moment, standing so close to him, that you noticed all of the expensive clothes he was wearing: black Hugo Boss shirt with the top three buttons undone, black Armani suit jacket, Armani shoes and a Rolex on his wrist. You could tell that the amount of money he lost to you tonight was nothing to him.

“When I look back at the night that a very attractive woman took my money I would like to have a name on my mind.” his voice felt smooth in your ear, his piercing brown eyes seeing right through you.

“Y/N.” You don’t know why you revealed your name, but something about his eyes was making your knees go weak.

“Y/N…” your name went through his lips just like butter.

“And what should I call you? You know, because ‘sucker who provided for my new pair of Louboutin shoes’ is a bit long,” you teased.

“Xiumin.” he smirked. “Do you need a ride home Y/N?”

“Careful Xiumin, I might think you’re going to rob me to get your money back.”

“Nah baby…” his right hand circled around your waist bringing you closer, “I’m a fair guy, you won that fair and square, it’s yours.” his head came closer to your ear and you could smell his expensive perfume. “I was just trying to be a gentleman.”

“This place is full of criminals. Why would I trust you?” your tone was a teasing one.

“You’re gonna have to go with your gut on this one. What made you call my bluff? Something inside of you, some voice in your head, right? So, what is that voice telling you now?” he reached his hand out waiting for you to take it.

He was right. That same voice was telling you to just grab his hand and go with him. Just the idea alone sent sparks through your whole body.

“Let’s go then.”

You took his hand and he led you to his car that was parked in the underground garage. Your eyes widened when you saw it: a black Audi R8. If you had any doubts that he was loaded, they were all out of the window.

You got in the car and started to admire everything, including the man who was now on the drivers seat, he was so handsome.

“You like it?” he said catching you off guard.

“What?”

“The car.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“You can have a car just like this and so much more. All you have to do is be my partner at these poker games and we’ll share the profit.”

“What do you mean by partner?”

“You are not dumb Y/N. You know how to play, but all those guys think you don’t. It’s your advantage. If you secretly play with me, nobody could stop us.” he came closer.

“You mean cheat. You want me to cheat.”

“If you want to call it that. I prefer calling it insurence.” his hand was now on your thigh. “Look. We’re already playing in an illegal casino, might as well play dirty.” His fingers slowly traveled up your leg, lifting your skirt up. The gesture making you tremble with desire and adrenaline.

The thought of playing dirty with this handsome man. The thought of having him right here, in this Audi R8 parked in a garage of an illegal casino, running the risk of getting caught at any minute. The thought of him being a stranger. All of these combined fueled you in ways you never even thought were possible.

Next thing you know you jumped from your seat to his lap, and started kissing him, hands on his cheeks.

“So…is that a yes?” he broke the kiss.

“Count me in,” you said as you bit your lip.

He quickly smirked before he reattached his lips onto yours, palming your ass under your skirt with both of his hands.

You unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and stopped to admire his muscular form. Your hips started to grind on him as your lips left a trail of kisses from his mouth down to his chest.

Suddenly you heard someone talking and your body tensed up. It’s like your senses were amplified by a thousand. You could feel your blood boiling from the sudden rush. You liked the idea of almost being caught, it turned you on, and Xiumin noticed this.

He grabbed you and turned you so you were now under him and he was between your legs. He grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head, his index finger slowly stroking your clit over your underwear.

“You’re an adrenaline junkie aren’t you?” he smirked, still teasing you, your panties getting wetter by the second. “You like that we could get caught at any minute” his voice was like a whisper, his lips attacking your neck. “They would come and see you with your legs spread for me, panties drenched, arms above your head, completely vulnerable to my touch.”

“Please…”

“Please what? Tell me what you want.”

“Xiumin, please fuck me.”

He quickly pushed his pants down and pulled your panties to the side and started fucking you, covering your mouth with his hand so you wouldn’t make any noise.

When he started to pick up his pace the voices outside started to get closer and closer, making your heart beat even faster and pump adreneline to your whole body.

You lost all kinds of control when he reached for your clit with his free hand, making you bite the hand that was covering your mouth to mask your screams. Moments later your body crumbled, coming all over his dick.

He soon followed, falling on top of you, panting. After that, you heard the voices get further and further, and that’s when you both started laughing like mad people.

“I’m gonna enjoy being your partner,” he smiled.

“Me too,” you smiled back.

After that night the two of you became invencible. You had everything worked out to the detail.

You would always make sure not to keep going to the same place over and over again so people wouldn’t catch on.

You would never come and go at the same time. He would arrive first to feel out the room, and you would arrive an hour later, alone and dressing provocatively so they would think you weren’t a real player and were only there to flirt with the guy with the big bucks.

You both had your signals to warn the other of your game. For example: if you had a pair, you would fix your cleavage or if you had three of a kind you would put all of your hair to one side. This way you both had a better idea of when to fold or bet.

When you left the casino you would always go back to his loft and fuck for the rest of the night.

You didn’t know how to describe what you guys were, but you felt that it was way deeper than just sex. You would go on romantic dates, you bought gifts to each other, you traveled, you would talk about stupid things you did as a kid, and one time you even joked that you were kind of like Bonnie and Clyde, minus the killing.

You didn’t care that you guys didn’t have a label. You were happy.  

Tonight was a special night. Xiumin had invited you to come to his loft to have dinner on his terrace, that had a view of the city, to celebrate three months of your partnership and personal relationship.

Everything looked so beautiful. The sky was full of stars. There were little candles and rose petals everywhere, and right underneath the silver moon was the table with two big candles and rose petals.

Xiumin looked absolutely breathtaking, he was wearing this dark blue Hugo Boss suit pants and a Gucci shirt with two buttons undone. You were wearing a simple cream flowy dress that accentuated your waist and the black Louboutins you bought with the money you won from him.

“You look beautiful,” Xiumin said while kissing your hand.

“Thank you,” you blushed. “You too.”

“Let’s eat?”, he smiled.

“Yes please. I’m starving.”

You both sitted down and Xiumin called for the waitress to start serving you.

“There’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about,” he said after he took a sip of the Pinot Noir wine.

“What is it?”

“Tomorrow we’re going to a new casino. The Big Royal Flush.”

“Isn’t that like the biggest illegal casino out there?” your eyes widened.

“Yes.”

“You know that it’s kind of hard to cheat in there, they have eyes and cameras everywhere.”

“I know baby, so we have to be really careful. And we also have to watch out for another thing: Byun Baekhyun.” he grabbed your hand. “Be careful okey? He is not like the other guys, he usually doesn’t bluff, he wins. People even think that he’s made a deal with the devil to have such good luck.”

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll have my eyes on him. We are not going to leave that place empty handed,” you smiled at him.

“I trust you,” he smiled back.

After you both ate the most delicious dessert ever Xiumin asked if you wanted to dance with him. He took your hand and spinned you around until you landed on his chest. You both swayed around to the slow song until his phone started ringing. He looked at the caller ID and tensed up.

“Hey baby, can you give me just a second? It’s important,” his voice was tense.

“Sure. I’ll just be here looking at the stars.”

He started walking back inside while talking to the person on the phone. “What do you want? I told you not to call me tonight, I’m busy with work,” was all you could hear before his voice was muffled by the closed door.

Who was he talking to? And why did he tell them that he was busy with work when he’s not even working? Why am I even acting like this? It’s not like I’m his girlfriend…But you wanted to be. You loved Xiumin and you wanted to be with him, officially.

When he came back ten minutes later he looked upset about something. You asked him if he was alright but he coldly said it was nothing.

He wasn’t the same after that call. He was colder, more distant. The sex that night was good, but not what you expected. It seemed more like he was just getting it off with and not the usual mind blowing sex you guys had.

You didn’t care who the hell they thought they were, but you were going to find out who was that person on the phone and you were going to kick their ass for ruining your special night with Xiumin.

The morning after you woke up to a strange sensation between your legs. You thought you were dreaming but when the sensation started to become to overwhelming you opened your eyes. When you looked down, the source of your pleasure revealed to be Xiumin stroking your clit with his fingers.

“B-Baby what are you doing?” you said parcially moaning.

“Shh, just relax. Accept this as my apology for yesterday.” His head went between your legs and started sucking on your bud, making you moan out his name.

While his tongue traveled through your folds he inserted two fingers inside of you. He was taking his sweet time, not wanting to rush anything.

After he inserted the third finger he started to pick up his pace, tongue playing with your clit and fingers curling inside of you. The sensation was starting to reach its peak and you were starting to see stars.

“Xiumin, I’m gonna…” you couldn’t even finish the sentence, you screamed so loud you were sure the neighbours heard you.

You layed there a few minutes panting, not able to move from the pleasure you had just received.

“I have to leave now, I have some business I have to get taken care off, but I’ll see you tonight at The Big Royal Flush, okey?” he kissed your forehead.

“Okey. See you tonight,” you smiled at him and quickly went back to sleep.

When you arrived at The Big Royal Flush you noticed that it was one of the fanciest underground casinos you’ve ever been to. You even wondered if it really was an illegal one. Marble columns, crystal chandeliers, expensive champagne handed to you in the entrance, everything was extra.

You had dressed the part, because Xiumin had warned you about it being very high class, so you picked your most expensive dress: a fitted black halter dress with a lace neckline adorned with Swarovski crystals. To complement it you wore diamond stud earrings and some nude Louboutins, you hair lose and wavy.

As usual, Xiumin was already there playing and smoking his cuban cigar. You carefully studied his opponents. They were all high class people: there was a middle aged woman with bleached blonde hair and a face that you could tell was full of botox, there was a young douche looking guy with a girl massaging his shoulders, a sketchy middle aged man with a thick moustache and a very attractive guy with black hair that you assumed was Baekhyun due to the amount of chips he had.

As you approached the table to take your seat, you felt two pairs of eyes on you: Xiumin’s and Baekhyun’s. You took the seat that was opposite to theirs, Baekhyun was to your left and Xiumin was to your right.

You looked up and noticed Baekhyun smirking at you, making you blush and turn your gaze to Xiumin; he did not look amused by your exchange of looks. Why the hell did I react like that? Calm down. That’s all part of his game. He’s putting the hook on you so he can fish you and your money later.

A few rounds passed and Xiumin had already lost everything to Baekhyun. They both went all-in but Xiumin’s hand wasn’t good enough. You had to admit: he had luck and skills. He knew the game better than anyone.

A new round began and you had a good feeling inside of you, a gut feeling telling you to go big. You looked at your starting hand and saw a pair of aces. Perfect.

The first three cards were delt and they were: an ace of hearts, a nine of clubs and a queen of diamonds. Right now you had three aces, which is a pretty good hand for the beginning.

You raised your bet 30000$. Everyone folded except for Baekhyun, who called and raised more 30000$. No way you’re winning this one, pretty boy. You called and he checked.

The fourth card was delt and it was a ten of diamonds.

Baekhyun smiled at you and then bet 80000$. You internally gasped. He could have a straight, which is better than three of a kind, if he had a king and a jack in his hand. But your the voice inside of your head was telling you to go with it, so you called.

The last card delt was an ace of diamonds. Bingo. You now had four of a kind, which is the third best hand in poker.

You looked over at Xiumin to reassure him that you were doing fine and his eyes met yours with a splash of worry in them. He slighlty shook his head, as if to warn you not to understimate Baekhyun. You shrugged it off. The only way for Baekhyun to beat you was for him to have a king of diamonds and a jack of diamonds, and thus have the best hand possible: a Royal Flush. But there’s no way he’s that lucky, you could feel it inside of you.

You went all-in. Xiumin’s eyes grew twice their usual size. You looked over at him and gave him a reassuring smile.

Baekhyun also went all-in. The pot was now worth millions of dollars.

You felt confident, there’s no way he has a Royal Flush. This is going to be your end, Byun Baekhyun.

You showed your starting hand with a smirk, revealing your four of a kind. Suspense started to rise as Baekhyun took his time to reveal his hand.

“Don’t be shy pretty boy. Show me what you have there,” you smirked.

“Me? I’m anything but shy hot stuff. I’m just feeling bad because what I have here is not what you wanted to see,” he turned his cards to reveal that he had what you feared the most: a royal flush.

Your blood ran cold. The crowd around the table gasped and started to clap for him. You stood the motionless watching him collect all of the money. H-how?

When you looked over at Xiumin he was already leaving to the car. You waited a bit, so it wasn’t suspicious that you were together, and followed him. When you got there, he was already waiting for you inside of the car. You took a big breath and entered it.

“What were you thinking?” he sounded pissed.

“I had four of a kind, how could I have known that he would be so lucky as to have a freaking royal flush?”

“I warned you! I told you he knew the game and he was luckier than anyone, but you didn’t listen!” his voice was the angriest you’ve ever heard it. “And now we lost almost everything!”

“I’m sorry baby…” you slowly went to touch him but he backed away.

“I don’t want to hear it. Get the hell out of my car.” His voice was like knifes cutting you all over. “Now.”

You slowly left the car and watched as he sped away from you, leaving you all alone in the cold parking lot.

It hurt, a lot. How could he talk to you like that? How could he blame only you when he lost money too? And that’s when his words truly hit you. Before, they were all shut down because of the state of shock you were in, but now? Now it was all sinking in, and you couldn’t do anything but cry.

“Sometimes I wish I wasn’t this lucky. I hate to be the cause of such a beautiful girl’s tears.”

When you turned around you saw Baekhyun smiling and holding a tissue in his hands.

“Thanks but-” you took it and started wipping your tears away. “You’re not the reason I’m crying.”

“Are you sure? Because I did take all of your money with a royal flush, that’s kind of hard to take in.”

“Well…I guess you’re kind of responsible.”

“See? I’m a douchebag, you should just hit me.”

“Huh?” you looked at him with a questioning look on your face.

“Come on, hit me. It will make you feel better.”

“Are you sure?” you hesitantly looked at him.

“Yes. Give me what I deserve.” he closed his eyes waiting for you to hit him.

“Okey.”

You took a deep breath and punched him in the arm as hard as you could. Baekhyun fell to the floor fake crying and whining.

“Ahhhh… mommaaa it hurts! Please don’t let this pretty lady hurt me anymore, I’ve learned my lesson.”

And that’s when you started laughing at his sillyness. Baekhyun noticed this and quickly stood up smiling.

“I like that smile. You should smile more, it makes you even more beautiful,” he got closer to you.

He stood there for a minute studying you, eyes getting darker. “I’ll tell you what, you can have all of your money back.”

“Really?” a tone mixed with relief and excitment in your voice.

“Yes. But you have to stay at my house for a week,” he smirked.

“What?”

A/N: Hey everyone! This story will continue with more chapters that are to come, so if you liked this chapter and want to see more please stick around!

Love, Ana 💜

[timelordthirteen]

Will there ever be anymore of your Lesson Plans verse?

Lesson Plans - Part 2

Summary: The original prompt was teachers Belle and Gold having a fling and Belle’s fiance interrupting them. This is what happens next.

Notes:Does anyone remember this fic??? Some of it was already written and rejected from the original fic, but I reworked it and here you go, the update one anonymous person asked for.

[AO3]

Belle’s husband stood in the doorway, his big, meaty hands clutching the moldings on either side like it was the only thing keeping him from exploding. Or committing homicide. Gold fought the immediate reaction to run. He needed to make sure that Belle was safe.

Gaston moved into the room and folded his arms. “What the fuck was that, Belle?”

Belle rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. She had never felt better in her life, and she had decided somewhere right before her orgasm that she was done.

“It’s called an orgasm, George,” she said, smirking as she smoothed her skirt over her thighs. “You’d know if you’d ever managed to give me one.”

Gaston scowled and stepped forward. “What?”

Gold was eyeing the two of them, looking between Belle and her very angry fiance, his hand tightening around his cane. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but in the few seconds that had transpired, he got the feeling that this was the beginning of an end. If need be he knew how to take down a man Gaston’s size. Behind the knees, small of the back, anything near the head, and a person went down pretty easy. Thank god his erection had subsided the instant she’d told him her fiance was outside.

A moment later, his thoughts on self defence proved unnecessary.

Gaston start laughing. “So… what? You’re leaving me? For him?”

Belle folded her arms and shrugged. “Does it matter if it’s for anyone? I’m done and that’s all that matters.”

“Just like that?” he asked. He arched a bushy eyebrow and glared at Gold.

“Just like that,” Belle echoed.

“But he’s -”

Belle pursed her lips and then exploded. “This is not about Gold!”

Gaston actually stepped back, and Gold barely held back a smile. He set his cane back down on the floor, folded his hands over the handle, and watched as Belle unloaded on the hulking cretin. She rattled off every sin Gaston was guilty of, every insulting thing he’d said to her, and the time he’d tried to kiss her best friend in a drunken stupor. All while the idiot stood there like an ogre, staring dumbly at her.

“And since this is my father’s house,” she added. “You can leave.”

Stunned, and with his mouth gaping wide enough to catch a baseball, George Gaston staggered backwards.

“Out!” she repeated, stalking forward and backing him out into the foyer,.

“You’ll regret this in the morning!” he snapped, holding the front door open. “And you’ll be begging me to take you back!”

“Un-bloody-likely!” Belle yelled.

The door slammed, and she startled. Then her shoulders sagged and she blew out air between her lips. Gold stepped up beside her, eyeing her carefully.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

Belle closed her eyes and took a breath, then blinked up at him. Her lips curved slightly. “Honestly? I don’t think I’ve ever been more okay.”

Gold shook his head. “What the hell just happened?”

She let out a short laugh and moved back into the living room, flopping back down on the sofa. “That was me losing about two hundred and thirty pounds in two minutes.”

Gold sat down beside her and started laughing. It was a deep, rumbling laugh that came from his belly. He couldn’t help himself, it was just so ridiculous. One minute he’d been finger fucking Belle French to what looked like a mindblowing orgasm, the next he’d watched her dress down her lump of a fiance and kick him out of the house.

He needed another drink, preferably something a lot harder than red wine.

She grinned at him. There was a lightness in her that she hadn’t felt in about three years. Things were going to be messy for a while, what with the wedding plans to cancel and all of George’s stuff to exorcise from her house. But she was actually looking forward to the future, with a feeling of hope instead of a sense of impending dread. It wasn’t the way she imagined going about breaking up with Gaston, but it certainly worked.

Although, he would probably come back in a day or two, he’d be the one groveling. She’d at least give him his clothes and his stupid bobble head collection back.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Gold asked again. He reached out a hand and rested it on her knee, feeling like he at least had that much liberty.

“Yeah.” She nodded and slipped the ring off her left hand. It was gold and gaudy and entirely too big for her small hands. She’d hated it the second she saw it, and without another word she tossed it onto the coffee table next to the pile of essays. They watched it rattle and skid across the glass for a moment, and then turned her head to smile at him. “Yeah, I really am.”

“I, um, I should probably go,” he said, pushing himself up off the couch.

Belle’s face fell. “Why?”

Gold stared at her dumbfounded. “Why?” he repeated. “I should think that was obvious.”

“Oh,” she breathed, looking down at the disheveled stacks of paper on the coffee table.

Thankfully she had until Monday to get them all graded. It was clear Gold wasn’t interested in her that way, especially now that he’d seen her screaming at her fiance. She just hoped they could manage to be friends after all this.

“I’m sorry.”

The sadness in her voice, made Gold sit back down immediately. “What? What for?”

She shrugged. “For acting like a giant bitch, and apparently using you to break up with my fiance.”

Gold frowned, a leaden feeling settling in his gut at the thought that it had all been because she wanted to get rid of Gaston and she was too scared to do it alone and without a very pressing reason. Cheating certainly fit that. “Is - is that what you did?”

Belle looked up, her eyes beginning to fill with tears. She shook her head. “No, but -”

Relief flood through him, but he was still concerned for her mental state. She seemed to be taking the events of the evening quite well up until he tried to leave.

Oh.

“Did you -?” he started. “Did you want me to stay for a bit? In case he comes back?”

She shook her head again, but smiled slightly. “He won’t be coming back. He may look mean, but he’s all bark and no bite. I humiliated him in front of you. He knows you have power in this town, even if you are just a history teacher who rents property on the side.”

She lifted her eyebrows a bit and Gold smiled. “Yes, well, I do alright.”

She hummed. “You do better than he does, and that’s what matters. To him anyway.”

“What about you?” he asked before he could stop himself.

“I -” she paused, uncertain if she could get the words out and actually ask for what she really wanted. “I, um, I’d like you to say. If you want to.”

A short silence stretched between them and then she turned and looked at him, asking, “Do you want -”

“Yes.” He blurted it out before she had a chance to finish, but apparently that was the right answer because a second later he had another armful of Belle and she was kissing him.

She pushed him back and settled in his lap, sitting sideways because of her skirt. This kiss was much less frantic and hard, but no less passionate than before. Perhaps that was because they both knew she was essentially a free woman now. He was certain there would be fallout from what happened tonight but it was quite difficult to care at the moment.

Belle had no idea what had come over her this evening, she certainly hadn’t drunk enough wine to make her this impulsive. She usually fell asleep long before she reached that point. It was a bit scary, but at the same time she didn’t want to stop for fear she’d never find herself here again, in Gold’s arms and minus one fiance.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” he whispered, holding her face in his hands as he touched his forehead to hers.

She smiled and then bit her lip. “Well,” she said, leaning into pull at his lips with hers. “Now you know it’s been a while, so I’d quite like another orgasm. If you’re up for it.”

Gold chuckled darkly and felt his cock twitch as she shifted against him. “Oh, I don’t think that will be a problem.”

She slid off his lap, purposefully rubbing against his crotch as she moved, and then stood, holding out her hand. He took it and pushed up off the sofa, smiling softly. As they made their way up the stairs, touching and stopping for a kiss every few steps, he vowed silently that if she’d have him longer than tonight, he’d give her all the orgasms she could stand.

[dunmerofskyrim]

29

The ceiling was low and beneath it the receiving room was thick with scented shade. The room’s four walls were cornered with pillars of glovewood, polished, then scored and graven to bleed out their aromas.

Simra sat on a great brocade cushion. Others like it surrounded a kind of low brushed-bronze basin, wide and shallow and well-faceted. At the room’s center it caught up the edges of every oil-lamp’s light, stole them, and showed them off half-mirrored in its many gleaming faces.

Now and then, water would slip into the basin, drop by drop from a funnel-shaped window set into the ceiling’s middle. Small shards of green true-glass surrounded by panes of plain. Through them filtered the burthen of all the recent clouds. Piece by piece, a careful controlled sample of all the rain the outside world had suffered of late. Each drop fell into the bowl with a sound like breathless singing: a murmurous hum that filled the room with something not quite music. Then the drops would slip away through needlepoint holes in the bowl’s bottom and into a large plain-glass jar beneath. Its sides were misty-cold with dew and spanned out straight and flat into a sort of knee-high table.

Wealth beyond measure could express itself in subtlety and understatement. For anything less, only excess would do. It might’ve impressed Simra once. Seemed something to aspire at, when all his life had been oats and barley, pine-smoked tea from earthware cups, striving for scraps of silver that seemed worth all the world. But now it only put a rigid disgust through him. A disappointment bitter as jealousy and almost as deep.

Say one thing of slightly rich men — say they’re complacent; that they lack imagination. Clear to see, the one whose house Simra sat in now had only thought to himself ‘I am rich now’ and, simple as that, had stopped working. His money bettered nothing, not even his own life. It only sat and showed itself, gaudy and clumsy and mute as the grave. Baelathri, Simra thought. Tomb-folk. It made a kind of sense now.

Stiff little glints of glass and nacre bothered Simra through his clothes. The brocade cushion wasn’t even comfortable. Sit up straight, it would try to swallow him. Try to lounge, it would stiffen round him; gnaw at him with its idiot teeth of semi-precious stone and wire. Stupid. The most pleasure he had here was in starkly not belonging. A hungry-boned figure in travel-clothes, muddy boots, flecks of what might be blood, and with five severed ears for a guest-gift.

“Ser..?”

An attendant in a thick winterweight gown shuffled through a doorway to Simra’s right. The gown was sashed with a belt of dust-fine netch-leather, so wide as to cover almost his whole torso. His eyes were heavily hooded and his face entrenched with lines. He moved with scarce a sound. Well-practised then; a lifetime of service; a majordomo if ever Simra saw one. Not the younger brick-heavy mer who’d admitted him into the house earlier.

Simra turned his head and raised his eyebrows, listening.

“My master, ser, would have me apologise for his delay in seeing you. He extends to you the comforts of his house, ser, and would have me ask: will you take refreshments? The road…” He eyed Simra’s cantrip-clean face and hair, his sweat- and rain-stiff clothes “…does seem to have been a long one, ser. Tea, perhaps?”

Be kind to servants, Simra tried to remind himself. Usually he’d make a point of it. But this one had served the same master too long, owed too much to that service not to live it blind as a dog loves its collar, its kennel, its owner. And Simra was in no mood to be looked down on. He dragged his eyes lazy from the attendant and up towards the ceiling-window. Against the panes of pale grey and dark green, the slow-shrinking reservoir of rainwater, night was collecting — building steady as snow.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Simra said, “but it’s gone evening. Full-dark, even. Could be that I’ve been waiting so long that time’s lost track of me. But that up there? That looks like a night sky…”

“Ser?”

Simra pursed then crooked his lips. Tilted back his head and let his body follow after, subsiding into the cushion despite the prick and awkwardness of it. A muscle complained in his back, in his leg.

“D’you have shein?” Simra said, slow, enjoying himself. “Greef?”

The attendant blinked. “This is…saltrice country, ser.”

“I understand. Understood. Entirely. Saw the paddies as I rode in. Your great heaps of rocksalt all gleaming grey in the last of the sun. Have to say, your master knows how to make the most of his land! Sujamma then.”

“…Ser.”

And the attendant shuffled out, louder than before. A small petulance sounded in every footfall. Still, he’d do as Simra asked, no matter how belligerent the bidding. And that was a good sign. He knew the old customs, Simra reckoned: the rights given to guests. They would strengthen Simra’s hand in what was to come.

Crumbs and coals of incense burnt in a brazier of polished black stone. A slow and constant sigh of smoke rose, filling the room from the corner where the incense lay burning. Scents to cloud the mind, not clarify thought; courtesan scents, not scents for the cloister. Simra would have recognised them otherwise. But the aroma starting to ache in his head had no name and grew still more nameless as he breathed it.

He remembered the brothers on the plain. Their faces by firelight at the first taste of blood as it welled from their gums. Not fear or anger as the nightshadows hollowed their cheeks and blacked their eyes, but confusion, sorrow, almost a kind of disappointment. Bandrys had tried to rise. Bigger bodied, the poison went slower through him. Even so he had stumbled, slumped into the grass, slack muscles and joints gone tough as rawhide.

It put a fear in Simra. No sense to it, no reason to suspect, but the fear crawled in all the same. The air he breathed; the sujamma he’d asked for; the kindness of strangers. His back straightened and his posture closed off where he sat. Knees touching, shoulders set high, Simra slowed his breathing as best he could. A drink. A drink would help. His thirst was impatient now and his temper short.

The attendant returned. Two servants followed, shaven-headed and clothed in combed kreshweave, the neutral hues of stagehands in festival mask-plays. People the eye might see, but the mind was meant to ignore. They set down a tray of beaten brass, a flask and two cups of smooth and perfect earthenware. The glaze on them was fine, the pinkish grey of a dove-wing, or the lids and sockets of Simra’s own eyes.

“I’m to have company then,” Simra said, angling his head at the second cup. “At last.”

“Nethyn’s indisposed. That means you get me.”

A Dunmer woman marched herself in the same way the servants had come. A high but simple piling of coarse black hair and sleek yellow pins sat on her head. Her clothes were well-cut, measure-made, giving sharp high shoulders and a stark shape to someone otherwise shapeless, average-built in everywhich way. A quilted vest made from one shade of red and stitched with another crossed and tied itself over her torso. Her trousers were high in the waist, ink-black, and so loose as to seem almost a long skirt except that they gathered at the ankles. Over this, a house-coat, bright-cream in colour and falling hard and straight and stiff as daylight in strong lines to below the hip.

She moved in a rapid shuffle, feet slippered with tapering toes in soft leather the colour of sand. Sitting next to Simra, she turned her face on him. Age seemed to have pinched and tightened her skin, rather than ridged and lined it as with most Dunmer. Her eyes were small and pink.

“It’s to your good fortune, I suppose,” she said. “My husband likes to talk. I won’t keep you nearly so long.”

“I don’t mind talking,” Simra said, sweet as he could. “Not when company’s pleasant.”

“Pity.” A hard response. She didn’t look away from Simra yet stopped addressing him. “Naftaseh, marrow in the bone of my mirth, don’t lurk so. Come in. Sit close and sit still now, you’ll never learn a thing if you insist on fidgeting as you do…”

A girl entered also. A child with long black hair, ratted and curled with tangles and loop-holes. Face all in rich inheritance of her mother’s pinched lines and sharp corners, but with two wandering moons for eyes, clay-red in pale features. She wore a long slip of indigo silk embroided in red with anthers and in white with wards against curses. The sleeves were far more than arm-long, and cuffed with stains both dark and bright as salt-marks.

“Naftaseh,” the woman said: a mother introducing her daughter as the girl sat beside her, retreating into the stiff cream folds of her coat. “First-daughter of house Minu. I am Tamsora, wife to sedura Minu Nethyn, but you’ll call me muthsera.”

She said the name like it ought to mean something worth spitting at to Simra. Ordered the names archaic, like they warranted that weight. None did. But this land was a patchwork of lesser houses and small holdings now — lone islands of adobes and House Dunmer dialect, rooted still in a shifting sea that belonged first to the wind and sky and second to the Vereansu. The Hlaalu had held it for a time, but a short time only in the life of such a land.

“Blessings on you,” said Naftaseh in rote monotone.

“And on you. I am Simr—”

“Not important,” Tamsora clucked.

Cut off, Simra started to seethe.

“Naftaseh, blood of my heart, listen. Do stop smearing the contents of your nose onto your sleeve so. Listen to me. The first thing you must learn in the running of a household is that there are certain established and proper ways of doing things, do you understand, my stars at night?”

Simra blinked hard and swallowed the urge to speak over her. Still his name, would she? Condemn it to nothing? Blight her. Instead he set his mouth straight and reached for the flask and cup. He poured a measure of clear sujamma. It clouded white as milk as it met the air.

“Some business,” Tamsora continued, “should never be rushed. The accepting of peers, the negotiation of land terms, the accepting of fealty or oaths sworn over ancestors, and all manner of things in that line. Other kinds of business –” she said the word now like it had an ill taste on her tongue “– ought to be concluded as swift as they can be.”

Simra judged the situation. He’d need to crab back this woman’s focus. With a sharp bow of his head, he turned the tray so that the filled cup faced Tamsora. “To you and to the honour of your house, from root to stem.”

Brisk and measured, she drank a small sip. No poison then, but by her face she took more pleasure from the toast than the taste. Flattery would carry him here. Flattery and efficiency.

Simra poured his own cup. In one gulp he had already half-finished it. Cassia, cardamom, and beneath the blaze of strong spirits, more of the incense but thick on his tongue now: an aroma like the ill-gotten sweetness of rot but without the urge to gag. But the burn helped smooth his voice, steady his hands and nerves. Easier that way to speak as someone other than himself.

“An honour, muthsera. Truly. To think, Simra Hishkari – that is, my humble self; or rather no one at all – and sharing fine sujamma with a Minu!” He’d never heard of her house. He fancied few had. But she’d have his name, sugar-coated as needs must, whether she asked or not. “If you’ll permit me to say so, it does me greater credit than I hoped for or deserve.”

Tamsora’s mouth pursed. It could have been displeasure or an effort to hide the start of a smile. She cut straight to business. “How many?” she said.

“Five, muthsera.”

“I expect you brought the bodies?”

“Ears, muthsera.”

“…Ears?” A moment’s uncomfortable silence. “You could have gotten ears from anyone. From anywhere. We all have two. How am I to know you aren’t passing two and a half mer off for the price of five?”

“It’s not unconventional…” Simra said, gentle as he could. She was blustering, he realised. Had no sense of how this business was done. “A landshare of this size. Imagine you must keep a shrine on your grounds? A priest?”

“Our fief includes a share of Othrenis town!” she scoffed. “House Minu is regular in its devotions at the shrine there.”

“In which case, I’ll happily wait til morning when a priest can be sent for from Othrenis. After all, there are certain proper ways of doing these things… The dead must be named, and the like.” Simra took another drink of his sujamma. Put the cup back on its tray, dry now.

“I fail to see how it’s my problem,” Tamsora said, “if you’ve failed to have your…goods properly identified. Contract or no, I shan’t pay without knowing that I’m paying the right mer for the right job.”

“A shame,” Simra said, pouring himself another cup now, settling in. “I have ground to cover. I’d hoped to be away as swift as I can be…”

“What’s stopping you?” Tamsora said, making to rise.

“Well, the law, muthsera.”

“What law?” Her voice was cold now, slow as she sank back into her seat and her daughter nestled further into her side.

“You’ve accepted me over your threshold. Offered me blessings and drink, and opened talk of business.”  Simra gave a close-mouthed smile. His guest’s voice, flyblown with flattery, slipped a little and started once more to sound like his own. “Regret to say, but you can’t turn me out til that business is closed fair. I’m a guest til then. And I won’t leave til I’m paid.”

“By what means does a common bounty-chaser come to know old Council guest-law?”

“I’ve travelled widely. Listened, learnt, met all manner of people in all manner of places.” Simra’s smile widened, showing teeth. It was good to have leave to speak now, and have her be the one made to listen. “Time was I came on an ordinator in the lands round the Nabia fault, set at by fetchers, robbed and wounded. I healed her, and helped her south to Suran. She was limping and the road was long. Long enough that we came to be friends. I all but prenticed with her for a time, and in Suran she commended me to the Temple for my upright character, diligence, and quick study. They put me to work as a law-scriv and—”

“Tchaw. Spare us.” A colour had risen dark in Tamsora’s features.

“Have it as you will. Shortly said, I know old laws and new. And I know ways you mightn’t need to pay a priest’s price. Or need to keep me, bed and board, til you do so…”

“I can’t say I favour anyone so full of surprises, Simra Hishkari.”

“Can’t say I’m feeling desirous of your favour, Tamsora.” Simra kissed his teeth. He couldn’t help himself. The tall tales, the veiled threats, the shaded insults — her pride invited them all, and they came all too easy. “I only want paying, and I’ll be gone. Cleaned away with the mud off your floor. And I promise you, I’ll cut you a good rate on the naming rite too. I mean, this is very good sujamma.”

[crimsonfantrash-blog]

Don’t Forget - Sans x Gaster (Human AU)

Chapter Two - First Day on the Job

Monday had rolled around much sooner than anyone had anticipated. Much to Gaster's dismay, the weekend just wasn't long enough. He got to the lab much before his shift was supposed to start, out of lack of anything better to do. A cup of hot coffee on the corner of his desk, a mountain of paperwork and too much free time could drive a person to go to work at six in the morning when they didn't start until eight.

The door opened at seven forty-five, and Gaster turned his head to see his new assistant early for his first day. He frowned slightly. Early on the first day... Hm...

"Uh, hi." Sans said. His voice echoed through the room. "I'm a bit early. I hope there's no problem with that."

"No, not at all. I hadn't expected you to be early, but there isn't any issue with it." The Royal Scientist replied. "Come over here, we're going to talk about the expectations and rules."

Sans closed the door and walked over, standing beside his new boss' desk. "So, what do I do?"

"Your first task is to refill my coffee mug." The other replied. He tapped the mug with his index finger. "There's a coffee pot in the break room."

Sans frowned, but shook the expression. Wouldn't wanna get fired the first day, and fifteen minutes before he was even supposed to start, no less. "Got ya, boss. How do you like your coffee?"

"Three sugar, two cream." Gaster replied, wrapped up in his paperwork still. Sans took the mug by the handle, and like a good little go-for, went into the room labeled 'Break Room'. A few minutes later, Gaster had a cup of coffee on his desk again.

"There ya go." Sans said. Gaster looked up at him, and Sans just stared back.

"Three sugar, two cream?"

"Three sugar, two cream." Sans confirmed. "What do I do now, Doc?"

Gaster cringed internally at the broken English. "We're going to talk about a uniform."

"What the heck is a uniform?" Sans asked. Gaster wanted to hang himself.

"Specific clothes you have to wear for a job. Today, your street clothes are fine. It's the first day, and you are... Apparently misinformed about uniforms." Gaster explained. His assistant made a face of understanding. "The uniform is a straight colour button down shirt, a tie, black or khaki slacks, and dress shoes. Think you can manage to get things like that in your closet by next Monday?"

"What's the female uniform like?"

If ever there was a question that absolutely boggled Gaster's mind, that would be it. "... Several questions. Firstly; do you see anyone here who is female?"

"No. We're the only ones here." Sans replied.

"The janitor is a woman, but that's about it. She doesn't do the same job as us. Second question, why do you care about the female uniform?"

"Was just curious..." Sans muttered. Gaster internally facepalmed. Right... This guy was a piece of work.

"To answer your absolutely confusing question, if a woman were to work here, the uniform would probably be the same. Maybe minus the tie."

"What about a skirt-"

"Save all questions like that for after nine A.M, please, and thank you." He pointed to the desk in the corner of the room. "Please move that desk over here, Mr. Fontz."

"You can just call me Sans. Mr. Fontz is too formal." Sans replied.

"Move the desk, Mr. Fontz." Gaster repeated. Sans moved the desk closer, almost directly next to Gaster's.

"What now?" He asked.

"Sit."

Sans sat. "What now?"

"Keep doing that."

Sans frowned. "Is that all I'm gonna do all day?"

"Probably. That's mostly the job."

He frowned deeply. "Why am I getting paid to sit?"

"Asgore insisted I have someone around here to socialize with. I told him that I wasn't a very social person, but he didn't exactly listen." The scientist leaned back in his chair.

"Well, can we do science stuff?" Sans asked. Gaster was becoming very impatient.

"Later, Mr. Fontz." He answered.

An hour of silence passed before something made contact with the side of Gaster's head and landed on his desk. A paper airplane... He unfolded it. Written in red pen was the words 'i'm bored let's do something'. He glared at his assistant, who shrugged. Gaster crumpled the paper up, throwing it towards the trashcan, it bouncing off the rim and rolling on the floor before Gaster fixed his glasses and went back to his work. "Psssst." He glared at Sans, his hair covering his annoyed expression. He glanced back at his work. "Psssssssst. Gaaaaster."

"Please be quiet so that I can concentrate, Mr. Fontz." Gaster said. Another paper airplane was thrown at him. He glared at his assistant again, making sure that Sans had seen his annoyance. "Please stop that so that I can concentrate."

Sans folded his arms, blowing his hair out of his face. Gaster unfolded the plane. Written in red pen was 'i wanna actually do stuff, dude'. "This isn't a very challenging job."

"You want challenging? Fine, I'll give you challenging. Make sure you don't have dull moment at all today." The scientist stood, and returned a few moments later with... A cube. It had different colours on it. He mixed it up a bit before slamming it onto Sans' desk. "Solve that."

Sans picked the cube up. "The hell is this thing?"

"An intelligence test. Get all of the colours on the same side as the cubes with that colour. Match it."

"So, like, one side all red, one side all green-"

"Yes."

"Okay."

Gaster sat as his desk. Five minutes later, there was a tap on his shoulder. He looked over, eyes widening. "How-"

"Solved it." Sans interrupted. "That was easy. Gimme something challenging."

Gaster muttered under his breath. "I've had just about enough, Mr. Fontz." He said. "I don't think you're cut out for this."

"What? I solved the cube. Isn't that what you wanted?" Sans asked.

"You aren't very mature." Gaster replied. "If I really need to hire someone because of Asgore's insistence that I can't do this alone, despite having done it alone since I was sixteen years old, an assistant that could show a little decorum, and engage in intelligent conversation would be appreciated. You asked me about the female uniform, despite there being no females here, and then proceeded to throw paper airplanes at my head...!"

The Royal Scientist was turning red in the face, and Sans looked a bit hurt. "Alright, I'm sorry..." The smaller male replied. "I'm not used to... Doing nothing, and then getting paid. I've always had to work for it. I'm just kinda... Nervous, and a bit confused."

Gaster relaxed in his seat. Right, first day jitters... "Please, get me more coffee."

Sans stood from his seat and was back with a fresh cup of coffee within minutes. Gaster sipped. His assistant had remembered how he liked his coffee... Which wasn't much, but it showed that he retained memory pretty well. "Um... Could we do science stuff?"

Gaster put the mug down. "Yeah. Sure. Why the hell not? That's what we're getting paid to do."

~~~~~~~~~~

Punch out time, five P.M. The taller male had locked the doors after they'd exited the building, looking to his assistant. "You did... Okay work today. Less airplane crashes from now on, please."

Sans laughed a little. "Sure thing, Doc."

"Please, it's Gaster."

"Well, then, call me Sans."

Gaster paused. "Fine. Sans it is."

Sans grinned. "Could also call me The Legendary Fart Master."

"I am not calling you that." The Royal Scientist protested. "You're lucky I'm even calling you Sans. I don't do first names."

"Yeah, you do. You called the King 'Asgore' earlier. That's his first name." Sans said. Gaster flushed pink in embarrassment.

"I've personally known Asgore for about seven years, before his child was even born. We're on a first name basis. I have known you a few hours. It's different."

Sans pulled his phone out. "We should exchange phone numbers."

"Why on Earth should we do that?" Gaster asked.

"So you can know me for more hours without having a paper airplane thrown at ya."

Gaster stood there for a moment. It seemed his co-worker wanted to be friendly... "Okay. Sure." He pulled his phone out, they exchanged numbers, and then they both shoved their phones in their pockets.

"See ya tomorrow." Sans said.

"See you tomorrow."

~~~~~~~~~~

"Marco!" Sans yelled as he got in.

"Poooolooooo!!" Papyrus yelled back.

"Nerd's home!!" Sans heard Undyne yell. He mentally prepared himself for the hyper pre-teen and teen as they ran down the steps.

"Can we have money?" Papyrus asked. Wow, what a great question to walk in to. Not 'how was work, Sans,' or 'how are you Sans,'. 'Can we have money?'. Undyne knocked him on the head.

"That's not how it's done, Papyrus! He's more likely to give us money if he's in a good mood! Make him smile, then rob him!!"

Sans raised an eyebrow. This sure was interesting to watch. "Oh! Okay, Undyne!" Papyrus said. She facepalmed as he looked back up to Sans. "Brother, I love you lots! Can we have money?"

"What for, and how much?"

"Glow sticks, and twenty G." Papyrus replied. Sans pulled out his wallet.

"You are killing me, smalls. I bought you guys glow sticks last week." He handed Undyne the money as Papyrus hopped up and down.

"I love glow sticks almost as much as I love you, brother."

"We're gonna get 'em tomorrow, after Paps gets out of school." Undyne said. Sans had hung his hoodie up and kicked his slippers off.

"Fine by me." He plopped on the couch, leaning back. It wasn't a very comfortable couch... But it beat standing, or sitting on the floor.

His phone started ringing, and he picked up. "Hello?"

Silence on the other end for a moment. "I have called to confirm that this is the right number."

"Well, who were ya trying to call?" Sans asked.

"The Legendary Fart Master."

Sans blinked, and then smiled. "Yeah, this is him."

"Okay." Gaster said. "See you tomorrow at work, Sans."

"See ya, Gaster."

Click. The Royal Scientist stared at the screen for a few moments. Maybe Sans was the kind of person he could actually be friends with. Lord knows he didn't have many of those to begin with...

[hazelandglasz]

Kink(o)s

(Too long for the ask box)

(I think I have found a prompt) So, I went to print Sunshunes’ Klaine calendar today, And there was this kind of hot looking guy who was the printer, and he uploads the pictures for the calendar on his computer. And for May, there’s this picture of Blaine in a Tinkerbell skirt with his butt poking from underneath it, and when that picture was being uploaded, the guy sent me this weird look and it ABSOLUTELY MORTIFYING and REALLY EMBARRASSING /)w(\ . Maybe you could write it for Klaine? (Like one of them want to print something, maybe a calendar with hot guys, like I did, and the other one is the hot printer? Idek, it sounded better in my head) *blushing, flies off into the sun*

- Cherry

I changed your prompt a little bit but I hope you’ll like it ! And so sorry it took me so long to write it !

It’s for a good cause.

Blaine straightens up, squares his shoulders and pushes the door of the printer’s shop.

He and his classmates did not make the calendar out of vanity but, for one, to relieve their female classmates of the sexism in the basic organization of a sexy NYU calendar, and for second, to gather funds for the LGBTQA club.

Good cause.

Yeah.

That’s why they all let the whole costume department have fun with them, with costumes and props, after all–even if in some cases, the prop was actually nothing at all.

Not even clothes.

Blaine gets in line with a shudder at the memory of opening the door for his own shoot and finding Professor Neve, of all people, in his birthday suit.

He pats his pocket to make sure he has the USB key–honestly, he doesn’t know if he’s actually relieved to feel it under his fingertips.

To be even more honest, none of the “models” got to see which picture was used in the final calendar–Tina was adamant about having total artistic control over it, and since feminism was the big starting point of the whole project, nobody dared ask for even a look at it before taking it to the printer.

Blaine took so many pictures, so he really wonders which one made the final cut.

“Next!”

Blaine looks up and for a split second, he forgets what he is doing here, because the guy behind the counter?

Rocks that navy blue shirt.

“How can I help you today, sir?”

Well, it’s not exactly navy, more like lavender, but it really makes the man’s eye pop …

“Sir?”

And look at that fit …

“Excuse me, sir?”

Blaine shakes his head like he just emerged from a deep pool. “Sorry, I was …” contemplating throwing the calendar in the Hudson and ask you to model for it, “lost in thoughts.”

The man smiles and gives a little shrug of understanding. It makes the tag on his chest glint, and Blaine wastes no time committing that name to memory.

Kurt.

“What can I do for you today, sir?”

Blaine picks the key and slides it on the counter. “There is file on this key, should be name NYU Cal,” he explains as Kurt plugs the key in–just one try, this guy is clearly made of magic–, “I need to see first how it looks printed on glossy and mat paper.”

“Alright,” Kurt says, eyes on the screen as he opens the PDF file. “Oh a calendar?”

“Most of the drama department decided to give back to the community,” Blaine replies, leaning over the counter to look at the pictures too.

The cover is innocent enough, in NYU bright purple. The next picture is Kevin, who works in sets, with a … well it is his usual attire, bare his shirt–a toolbelt around his waist, and several paint splotches on his shoulders. He doesn’t look bad, and it’s a pretty good start.

Blaine discretely sighs in relief.

Before choking on air as Mr. February, aka Cupid, aka Pr. Neve, fills up the screen.

“Um …,” Kurt says, side-eyeing Blaine with something that is either bewilderment or completely judgmental.

“Our Renaissance drama history teacher,” Blaine says, suddenly finding the nuances of the beige countertop fascinating. See, there is beige, and some spots of darker beige, and lines of lighter beige and–

“Is there–is there a picture of you?”

Blaine looks up like a prairie dog out of its hole, eyes wide as he processes the words.

“Ah? Hum, maybe, I–I’m not sure, I mean,” he pauses, awkwardly chuckling, “I did pose for some pictures, but I don’t–”

Kurt nods, a definite pinker hue to his cheeks as he very firmly keeps his eyes on the screen.

Even the tip of his ears turns red while he clicks through the pages.

With a sense of purpose, it appears.

Blaine looks at him, sparing a glance for the screen when a particular image captures his eyes–oh, look, Elliott–until Kurt stops clicking.

And lets out a small whimper-gasp.

Oh Lord.

Which one did she end up picking???

“That’s, um … an interesting calendar,” Kurt says, trying to discreetly tug on his collar.

Blaine has to lean a little bit more to look at the picture–oh, a not so small part of him feels proud that he can make Kurt literally a little bit hotter under his collar, and who knows, maybe he could take care of said collar later on–and Kurt finally turns the screen towards him.

Oh Lord indeed.

“It’s for a good cause,” he manages to croak out, more for himself than for Kurt’s sake if he’s being completely honest.

“I’m sure.”

Kurt’s ears are on fire now, it should not be as endearing as it is–and yet.

“The LGBT club always needs more funds.”

Kurt is straightening up, and the corner of his mouth twitches into a smile. “With that calendar, funds are guaranteed.”

“Oh?”

“Guaranteed.”

“Oh!” Blaine blushes but refuses to look away now. “Thank you.”

Kurt smiles at him and shakes his head. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“I would never.”

“I can … appreciate the aesthetic.”

“Hence my gratitude.”

“Hm.”

Blaine takes a deep breath and decides to just take a little leap of faith. “I could be even more grateful,” he starts, and Kurt stops typing on his keyboard, the unmistakable purr of the printer launched behind him, “if I could–that is, if you’d like, go on a coffee break? Date? With me?”

Kurt’s eyes are wide and Blaine is about to forget about the whole thing, the calendar, the date, all of it.

He can avoid this part of the city for the rest of his life, right?

“I’d love that.”

Or maybe just leave the whole cit–what?

“You–you would?”

“I would.”

They smile at each other like two idiots until the older woman in line behind Blaine clears her throat.

Oh, she smiles at them a bit too knowingly, but the fact remains that he is holding the line.

“Here are your two copies, in mat and glossy,” Kurt says, voice higher than a moment before. “Call m–call us to let us know how many copies of which you will need.”

On top of the two calendars, Blaine finds a folded piece of paper and puts it in his breast pocket. “I will.”

“You can pay at the front desk,” Kurt adds, nodding towards the counter where a black woman is watching them with a beaming smile. “And don’t mind her.”

Blaine laughs, reaching for the calendars just as Kurt pushes them closer to him. Their hands brush, and for a moment, Blaine lets his fingers linger. “See you later, Kurt.”

“See you later, Blaine.”

Blaine starts walking towards the counter when Kurt calls his name. “Blaine!”

“Hm?”

“Save one calendar for me?”

“Of course.”

Two months later, when Blaine comes to Kurt’s place for dinner–minus the black woman, aka Kurt’s best friend–the calendar has a place of honor in the entrance.

Except that it’s several months in advance.

Blaine is too busy kissing his boyfriend to comment on it, though.