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iznsfw · 1 year

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

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

20,859 words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It all started… well, like this:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your truth was met with silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Still not funny.”

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

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

"Don't call me that.”

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

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

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

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

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

"And the previous week?"

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

"And the week before that?"

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

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

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

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

“Don’t flatter yourself, dickhead.”

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

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

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

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

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

You smiled back. “Like a good boy?”

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

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

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

A few months—

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

—and a lot of bickering later—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—things began to change.

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

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

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

And it—

… hurt you?

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

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

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

Looking back, that message had a lot of undertones.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ha! See?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Senior year, your golden age.

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

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

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

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

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

"Not enough, obvi.”

“Right.”

“Is Nancy coming, too?"

"I think so."

"Darn it. I was hoping to…."

You raise your brows in suspicion. "What?"

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

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

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

And it ends off with that. Click.

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

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

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

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

"Jesus fucking Christ, Nancy!"

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

You won't go there.

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

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

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

So, it could be argued that she loves you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Y-you got that right."

"With Somi?"

"Yeah, sure. So?"

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

"See ya there."

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just the tiniest, most speckling bit in love.

“Maybe I am.”

“Stud,” Nancy says under her breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And I suppose I’m emo now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I thought we all agreed—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And that is?”

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

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

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

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

“You owe me one, Jeon Somi!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me?”

“Yep!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s a Wednesday.”

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

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

“Who’s ordering the soju?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wait—what?

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

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

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

“Somi!”

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

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

“See you later, alligators!”

The door slams shut.

Nancy groans loudly. Of course, the little brat.

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me.”

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

"Yeah? Well, nobody will."

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

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

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

“Easier said than done.”

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

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

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

“Did you just say I had a huge ass?”

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

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

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

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

“Didn’t Michael Jordan say that?”

“Did he?” She looks up curiously.

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

“You really want to know?”

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And now you’re Shakespeare.”

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

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

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

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

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

Nancy, with her lips barely a breath away from—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Whoa.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now you do.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Definitely not just friends.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ah. Ahhh, please!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” she replies weakly.

You’re glad.

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

Nancy blushes and looks away..

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

Jeon Somi always gets what she wants.

Again, this time is no exception.

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

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

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

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

“How’re you doing there?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your cock can’t say the same.

“I loved it. You?”

“I liked it, and, and I—”

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

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

“It does when I say so.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She says nothing.

You toy with her nipples, flicking and pinching them.

She utters not a single word.

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

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

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

She takes deep breaths.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you all bright and happy there?”

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

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

“I’m safe today, though…”

“Hmm. Next time?”

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

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

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

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

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

“You came prepared.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Need to breathe?”

Nancy winces and nods. “A few seconds.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Need it, need it, need it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cinnamon rolls, anybody?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I—I thought—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“H-hey, Nancy…”

“What’s wrong?” Nancy asks.

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

“Yeah?”

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

“What are you getting at here?”

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

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

“For fuck’s sake—”

2K notes · View notes

babypinkhearts · 8 months

Text

spare me this - anakin skywalker

pairing: anakin skywalker + fem!reader

summary: the council assigns you on a deathly solo mission, forbidding anakin to join you.

warnings: angst (i don’t know what is wrong with me!! i am addicted to writing it now), mentions of injury and death, anakin is so sweet and sosososo in love it’s almost pitiful, fluff

a/n: i feel like i put a part of my soul in this. i feel so drained but finishing this feels SO rewarding. another day for firsts! this is my first time writing for anakin, or anything star wars related :) this has been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS. i figured, while i still feel motivated to write, let me finish this!!! hope you all enjoy <3 i loved writing it

“three days.” you repeated faintly.

you disliked how quiet anakin was at times. it often left you more troubled than relaxed.

you frowned when he didn’t look at you from his stubborn stare at the ceiling. sighing softly, you mimicked his eyes and looked upwards, your neck rested against the headboard of the bed.

“we will come back victorious, and we will be right here. together again.”

the night before your mission’s departure, you slept in anakin’s room. it would have been much easier to ignore him, act like he didn’t exist for a while. the two of you were far too dependent on one another. the love sometimes felt overwhelming.

however, anakin’s fear was far too evident. it was strong - too strong to the point where you genuinely believed someone else could detect it. you decided that if you could soothe his worries, he’d be relieved of his thoughts.

but anakin didn’t speak. he refused, and his body simply forbid him from trying. not a touch or word was directed at you. it had almost been an hour of pure silence.

unbeknownst to you, there was a helpless feeling of uncertainty that anakin could clearly sense from you. that was what was driving him crazy.

bloodshed was a promise, you already knew it. your master had spoken grimly about the mission, and it was anakin who realized - much quicker than you - that this battle would not end seamlessly.

there was a large, if not, inevitable chance of you coming back alarmingly injured.

you were calculated, strong, and reliable. it was you who the council had chosen to lead the mission.

they were selfish, anakin believed.

“obi-wan knows this will kill me.”

anakin bleakly spoke, his voice muffled by the blanket he had brought up to his face. you decided against expressing your surprise to the sound of his voice.

while obi-wan had no idea about the true nature of your relationship with anakin, he was aware that you served as each other’s weaknesses. jedi code called for the banishment of any attachments, though obi-wan knew he himself had begun to break them when he started to form a brotherly bond with his once-padawan. he held no room for judgement.

while you hadn’t spent nearly as much time with him as anakin had, you felt very fond of him. there was a certain soothing atmosphere that only seemed to arrive in his presence.

secretly, obi-wan had pulled you aside mere hours after your mission was announced. his voice was low as he spoke, and he had gently held your arm the entire time.

“you come back within your scheduled arrival, and everything will be fine. i cannot promise you we will be at ease if you take longer.”

and, of course, through unknowing ears this was a simple comment - a statement of encouragement, really. but it was a completely different story when you could see the true intentions in his words.

anakin would not be at ease, is what he had wanted to say.

and obi-wan was right. from the moment you explained your mission to anakin, he had gone silent. you had been in your room, slowly walking in circles as you counted the tasks you were required to fulfill on your journey.

you hadn’t noticed how awfully pale your jedi had become.

now in present, you realized he had never left his stage of shock.

anakin hated this. he hated how guilty he felt for the resentment he had towards your capabilities. you had impressed the council too much, and it had put you in a dangerous position. he hated how careless you tried to sound, and he hated how you only gave the reply of “yes, master” when being told the instructions of your suicide mission. most importantly, he hated how he was forbidden to join you.

“how do i live? how do i function when you could be dead at any moment?”

you froze, eyes widening.

anakin’s words were cold, and you fought the urge to feed into his frighteningly grim thoughts.

pursing your lips briefly, you forced a smile, brushing back his hair from his forehead. anakin was laying on his back, eyes still narrow and focused upwards. you tried to keep the mood light, attempting to add a little amusement to calm the tense atmosphere his question had made.

“we’re both aware i’m capable enough to handle myself. i used to beat you during training, and i saved you from-“

your playful smile faded, and you gave up talking once you realized he had started to look up at you.

anakin knew you were strong. he didn’t need to hear your reassurance, especially when he knew even you were undoubtedly terrified.

for a while, he just stared at you. it wasn’t intimidating - he could never direct an emotion like that at you - but you felt exposed, almost as if you should shield your face.

anakin felt troubled, trying to piece together all his discomforting emotions clearly. to have you so close seemed to be a punishment. you shouldn’t be here. he shouldn’t be seeing the worry in your eyes, or watching the slight furrow of your brows. although, there was something so beautiful about your concern. he wasn’t made to feel these kinds of emotions, especially ones that one mere person could provide.

for a moment, he wished he didn’t know you. selfishly, he knew that would relieve him of the pain.

“anakin,”

his name that only ever sounded right when you said it.

“what’s the matter, ani?”

there were no protests made when you moved closer to him. the security and serenity he felt with your arms around him made it feel impossible to refuse.

anakin trusted you with his life. he’d give you his life in a heartbeat. he’d do anything for you. and yet - why couldn’t you help him believe you would be okay on this mission? it was cruel, picking on his one and only weakness. his heart, which you held so effortlessly. his mind consisted of you, you, you.

with a shaky sigh, he spoke.

“you’re scaring me.” he quietly admitted.

his eyes were glossy, nearing a depressive red. his stare was piercing. you weren’t sure you wanted his attention anymore.

confused, though mostly alarmed, you continued to look back at him. scaring him?

“you think you’re going to die, don’t you?”

your eyes widened, and suddenly you felt very vulnerable being in front of him.

“anakin - what?” you stumbled out, shaking your head in surprise. he couldn’t be serious. you attempted to talk, reassure him that you would be fine, but his gaze was unfocused. he didn’t want to listen to your futile words. anakin knew you better than anyone else.

“please, do not lie to me.” he whispered, and in that particular moment, you had never seen him so small. “spare me that.”

anakin skywalker, the reckless jedi who consistently charmed his way through trouble. someone who was so spontaneous, yet brilliant.

love kept him going. it wasn’t unrequited. he knew that more than anything. love got him up in the morning. love was adrenaline. love was everything and so much more.

he couldn’t bare losing it.

“i-“ you shook your head again, pausing briefly to lay beside him. a hand was placed on his cheek, and you caressed his face gently.

anakin’s eyes closed, and once more he felt a wave of anger pass through him. he hated the council, he hated the jedi. he hated everything to do with this. they were trying to take you from him. your sweet touches, your soft voice, your caring nature. he felt so bitter it hurt.

you pursed your lips, letting a sigh escape you.

“i will tell you this.“ you whispered, cupping a hand around his soft face. “i am scared. i act like i am not because that is what i must do.”

for the past couple of hours, anakin had assumed that hearing you admit your fear out loud would put his mind at ease. maybe, if you admitted you weren’t invincible, he could convince you to take extra care of yourself.

but your words had the opposite effect on him.

you were scared. and he wouldn’t be there to help.

“i cannot promise you i’ll be unscathed, anakin, but i can promise that i will come back to you.”

it took everything in you to not break in front of him.

you forbid him from continuing the conversation further after that.

when the morning you had dreaded arrived, you silently awaited for a signal on your commlink to commence your departure.

you had left anakin, quietly pleading for him to stay optimistic during your absence. he had helped you get dressed. his touch was like a feather, gently escorting you to a hell you could only hope would be generous to you.

weapons were hidden under your robes, as usual. two lightsabers, because you had learned from anakin years ago that an extra could never hurt.

you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt possibly felt guilty.

anakin had trained you, hoping that an increase in your skill would payoff on the battlefield to solely keep you safer when he wasn’t around.

but you had surpassed his expectations. and now, you were in this position.

it had been an honor to be praised so highly. though, you quickly found that, in reality, it was not something to completely look forward to. anakin’s worry being the main reason.

when your commlink finally sounds off, you waste no time in leaving.

three days, you had claimed to anakin.

when you finally return, a week had gone by.

and just like you had repeated to anakin so many times before - you were victorious.

though, not unscathed.

“medical-“ you breathed heavily, your hand glued to your side as you stepped out of your starfighter, your heart pounding in upmost fear as you realized your vision had begun to blur.

you couldn’t tell who grabbed you first. it wasn’t anakin, you knew that by muffled noise of calm reassurance. if anakin were here, he would have the entire building burned to the ground in seconds. if it weren’t for the excruciating pain you felt everywhere, you could have chuckled at the thought.

“requesting medical attention - yes, this is urgent.”

blinking as quickly as you could, which looked evidently labored, you watched as obi-wan spoke through his commlink.

yours had broken days ago, leaving you stranded with no communication. retreating was never an option in your mind, and you stupidly had fought until your mission had succeeded.

the consequences of your actions truly haunted you as you were lifted on to a table, the strong scent of medication telling you that, yes, your wound was as bad as it felt, if not worse.

and finally, the mask put over your mouth lulled you to a more painless state of sleep.

upon the first few seconds of opening your eyes, you tried to immediately close them again.

of course, anakin was right next to you.

you heard him jolt in his seat, repeatedly calling your name as if you would die if he stopped. his voice sounded hoarse. gently, you reached your arms out, silently begging for him to touch you. you needed his embrace. you can not have gone through all this effort for nothing. he was why you had tried so hard to survive. without a word, anakin complied to your silent request. his hands cupped your face, while yours did the same to him.

his chest was shaking with uneven breaths.

“i made it back - just like i said, right?” you spoke quietly, smiling through a wince. joking was never the way to handle serious situations with anakin, but fuck, you really couldn’t handle how broken he looked.

he didn’t smile. he hadn’t taken your eyes off of you, almost as if you would disappear the second he looked away.

“don’t ever do this to me again.”

you quickly stopped speaking at his tone. unstable and hurt. you can’t promise that to anakin. it would be selfish. you help people - your mission had hopefully saved thousands. what is one life to lose if it can save so many more? you’re skilled, why not use your potential for something extraordinary?

“leave the order with me.”

your eyes widen, bigger than you mean them to.

“i-i can’t do that.” you reply immediately, shaking your head in his gentle grasp. leaving the order was nearly unspoken of - all of these years training, dedicating your life - what would it have been for? you can’t leave. people need you - the galaxy needs you.

you would have anakin, but could you live with yourself? all these years, you’ve been taught to be selfless, so why is anakin proposing such an idea?

you’re sure he can see the conflict on your face.

“you almost died.”

his bluntness forces to you remember the stinging pain on your side. you shake your head.

“that’s a part of the job.” you speak firmly. “i would be injured a hundred times over if it meant someone won’t be.”

anakin immediately lets go of your face.

“listen to me,”

it’s nearly a full-body sob, and you watch as he stands straighter, attempting to compose himself.

you feel your heart drop to your stomach.

“you’re hurting me - i don’t care if i’m being selfish! i love you. i love you more than anything, and i know i cannot live without you.”

anakin skywalker’s love for you was almost pitiful. he himself nearly couldn’t stand it. how can one person cause so much heartache? why is it possible to care for someone as much as he does for you? his outburst was childish, and he’s aware. but he needs you to see him, so raw, so authentically. maybe if you could see the pain he was in, you would spare him more easily.

“anakin…” you whispered, so quietly you almost doubted he heard you.

the reality was, you tended to push anakin away. you were hesitant to love him. you felt greedy whenever you allowed yourself to love him so deeply. you were meant to serve others, not have feelings of your own. anakin was your weakness, and that scared you more than anything. if you were going to be powerful enough to save millions, it would be foolish to have a flaw.

but, clearly, anakin didn’t care about weaknesses. he had you, and loved you with open arms, and despite this, he preformed better than you in nearly everything. how does he manage?

“i love you too much.” his voice was defeated, and the anger he had previously held dissipated. “obi-wan saw me sulk after the three days. he stopped me from seeing you when you arrived.”

you nodded slowly. it made sense, you couldn’t imagine the scene that would have occurred if it had been anakin carrying your half-conscious body. anakin skywalker reacted according to his feelings. he was spontaneous.

you sighed quietly.

“i would never leave the order, anakin. i wouldn’t be able to live with myself.” you spoke, and winced as you visibly saw him tense.

you had to be honest with him.

reaching a hand out, you grabbed his, gently interlocking your fingers.

“but, i can promise you that i will never take a mission like that. it was reckless, i know. i’m so sorry.”

he didn’t speak, taking a seat on your bed.

he was unsatisfied, you knew that.

but you couldn’t change the entire trajectory of your life for him just because he worries you’ll get hurt. it would be wrong, and you know, though he won’t say it out loud, anakin agrees with you.

he allows himself to give into desires. it’s not because he feels he’s “deserving” of them, but because it’s something that comes so natural to him. so why must it be wrong to love you?

anakin is confident with your abilities. he knows how strong you are. but it’s second-nature for him to worry. you’re something so precious to him in this world of despair.

so he’ll stay silent and let you do whatever you please. he cannot hold you back, and he’s now painfully aware of it. but, he can help you.

more trainings, better advice, and more time.

you have each other, and he is satisfied with that forever.

#star wars fanfiction #star wars x reader #star wars fic #star wars x you #anakin skywalker #anakin angst #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x you #obi wan kenobi #obi wan star wars #darth vader #revenge of the sith #darth vador x reader #luke skywalker #obi wan x reader #rots #r2d2 #star wars anakin

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satoruwiki · 8 months

Note

Aah!! As the strange anon who requested Naoya. I gotta say I totally agree with these headcanons! You got him perfect lol basically a d**k..unless your super hot, don't speak and magically anticipate exactly what he wants when he wants it...in which case he's slightly less of a d**k. Ooh please do gojo headcanons now I'm addicted haha

lmfao strange anon 😭😭 but fr you’re right tho, naoya would usually be the type to say “you look prettier with your mouth shut, keep it that way”.

♡.°₊Satoru is the type of man to…ˎˊ˗

content: jjk headcanons; half sfw/half nsfw; afab!reader; i love my cutie patootie boo boo bear pookie blue eyed king gojo >.<!!

n/a: i love this man sm, I already kinda did hcs of him before, but they were mostly nsfw, so i really scratched my head to not repeat them as best as i could.

these are my hcs! feel free to agree or disagree :b any request/interaction supporting this post is very much appreciated <3

sfw ver! ୨ৎ

Satoru is the type of man to… have gifting as his love language. Aside from being extra clingy, he’s the type to gift you stuff at least twice a week. They’re mostly things that reminds him of you or that he thinks you’d like (even though he might fail sometimes when it comes to treats, since he has a sweet tooth it may or may not be too sweet for you).

Satoru is the type of man to… act sassy/petty when jealous. Satoru isn’t the type to make a scene (at least not directed to you) or generally be ill-tempered/insecure. However, whenever he sees someone who looks at you in a different way than the others or tries to engage in a conversation with you that seems too intimate to be friendly, Satoru is the type of man to walk up to you and hug you from behind, giving you neck kisses. While you may think him being overly cuddly with you is normal due to his clingy character, Satoru is doing all that on purpose to let whoever is ‘bothering’ you that you already have someone else, with a damn smug smile plastered on his face (and maintaining direct eye contact with the stranger).

giggled and kicked my feet while writing this.

Satoru is the type of man to… try new things for you. So it is more than obvious that Satoru is old money rich. Like this dude was RICH RICH and spoiled rotten since he was child, not to mention that he’s a special grade sorcerer (he basically gets bank as a salary), therefore he’s accustomed to getting the finest things, either for you or for himself. What may seem expensive to you is probably normal for him. That doesn’t mean he’s some type of snob or is condescending about middle and working class. Satoru would be the type of be slightly skeptical when you take him to a ‘not so high-end’ restaurant, but since it was a “spot you knew”, it must be good, right? Satoru would be surprised to know that the food in the less wealthy places is sometimes even better than his common luxurious michelin-starred restaurant.

sounds like a cute trope imo

Satoru is the type of man to… taking pictures of you without you realizing it. It’s a hidden hobby of his, he thinks you look prettier when you’re distracted. Satoru has certain photo albums in his phone gallery that require a password, that is because you’d probably be embarrassed if you ever found out, but he really likes them, in the least creepy way.

Satoru is the type of man to… pretend not to know certain things as long as he has something to approach you with. Despite being good at pretty much everything, Satoru will lie and pretend to be terrible at something you are specifically passionate about so that you can teach him because he loves to see you get excited about sharing your hobbies and likes with others. His subtle way of knowing about you and collecting information he needs for when he wants to ask you out.

nsfw ver! ୨ৎ

Satoru is the type of man to… have public sex. Whether it’s at home or at some expensive restaurant’s washroom, nothing will stop him from pounding his cock balls deep inside you, though the thought of getting caught being freaky in public always gets his adrenaline rushing and his cock throbbing.

Satoru is the type of man to… have you modeling the lingerie he buys for you. He loves to see how excited you are to show him the little lingerie you bought with his card. But he loves it more when you thank him bouncing on his dick.

Satoru is the type of man to… have phone sex with you when he’s away. Due to his work, he has to sometimes to fly across Japan and this can take a few days before he comes back home. Satoru will call you late at night to ask how your day was then ask you to play with yourself, maybe even do a video call so he can see your pretty ‘o’ face.

Satoru is the type of man to… cover you in hickeys. He takes pride in letting everyone know he fucked you real good last night as well as to mark you as his. It also helps to keep other men from you, so he does this pretty often.

Satoru is the type of man to… fuck you in front of a mirror. Satoru likes to fuck you in doggy as well as to see your fucked out face, so he came up with the solution of placing a mirror in front of his bed so he can plunge his cock deep inside your walls just the way he likes and get to see you roll your eyes to the back of your head as he rearranges your guts. He also gets to look at himself and brag a little. (a little narcissistic from him if you ask me lmao)

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gothcsz · 4 months

Text

Dusk | No outbreak!Joel x Fem!Reader | ~8.2k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: You become a park ranger at a national park in California after breaking up with your ex. You meet Joel Miller, the chief ranger there, and find yourself absolutely smitten over him.

Tags: smut, attempted assault (not by joel), unprotected p in v sex, fingering, oral (f recieving), no use of Y/N, reader is a professor, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: i wrote this during a long car ride in my notes app so i’m NAWT liable for any mistakes xoxo this is also my first attempt at writing joel so i hope i did our man justice 😋

You’ve always been an outdoorsy person. Girl scout as a child, camp counselor in your teens, camp manager in your twenties— and not to mention the plenty of solo camping trips you’ve taken and the amount of hikes you’ve trekked.

Then there’s your full time job as wildlife biology professor in New York.

Being out in nature is the only time you ever feel true, serene peace. Who would have thought? It keeps you healthy and entertained. Most of the hobbies you indulge in and skills you have revolve around being outdoors.

Becoming a park ranger had never been part of your plans, per se, but after a really messy engagement that ended with the wedding being postponed indefinitely and then being overwhelmed by your friends and family afterwards; you needed an out.

The offer to become a ranger at a national park in California came at the perfect time. You didn’t hesitate to sign on to the job, especially since it was being offered to you by a long-time close friend you had met online through a Hiking Tips & More! Facebook group.

So you packed as much as you needed and booked your flight from upstate New York to California.

You’d be stationed there for the summer and the pay was decent. Whatever, you weren’t too hung up on that detail since you are financially stable enough to take the pay cut for the next few months.

After going through the motions of getting registered and settling in at the local lodge themed motel, you use an afternoon to just take everything in. You’ve never had the pleasure to visit any of the parks on the west coast so this experience is extra exciting for you.

You’re already prepared yourself to do some birdwatching and to brush up on your botany knowledge.

Before you are assigned a location and station, it’s required for you to attend an orientation of sorts for the new cohort of rangers working for the summer.

The intent is to go over routines and day-to-day tasks. Most of the job you already know from when you got your certification before going to graduate school. You thought you would have the time to become a ranger then, but life had humbled you quickly so the certification was never put to use.

Until now.

It’s around 7 in the morning when you arrive to the meeting room at the national park. Others linger around but you make a beeline towards the coffee machine; absolutely needing your caffeine fix for the morning.

Definitely don’t forget to bring that with you. You went quite feral without caffeine— god forbid any man, or bear, come across you before you’ve had your cup of coffee.

You fix the drink as you always take it, realizing you’ve just emptied what was left in the glass container.

Not wanting to be the asshole that left everyone else with no coffee, you rummage through the cupboards until you find the container with the grounds and you brew more, doing your good deed for the day.

Blowing against the mug before bringing it up to your lips, you savor the taste and let out a content hum.

“Was that the last of it?”

Your attention immediately flits up at the sound of the deep, southern drawl that’s like honey to your ears.

Before you stands a unit of a man: tall, broad— rugged. He’s obviously older, the salt and pepper colors of his hair and beard complimenting both smile lines and frown wrinkles on his face.

Oh, he’s handsome as hell.

“U-Uh no— yes… Well I just put more in. Should be ready soon.” You flash him a small smile, mentally kicking yourself for stuttering like a fool. Suddenly, you’re aware of how unflattering the park ranger uniform looks on you.

He can’t say the same, clearly, since the collared shirt hugs him snugly across his triceps and shoulders, stretching across the broadness of his chest. There’s a few pins attached to his front, and that’s when you catch the golden glint of his metallic name tag.

J. Miller

He just nods in response, his gaze fixated on you, “I recognize most people here.… but not you. This your first rodeo as a ranger?”

Now it’s your turn to nod, “Yes, but not my first rodeo in the field. I got my certification a few years back but never got the chance to use it.”

He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, the smell of the fresh brewing coffee hitting your senses. “Ah— I see. Figured you were new. I woulda definitely remembered a pretty face like yours.”

This has you blushing, hard, and biting down softly on your bottom lip. You can’t remember the last time someone had so openly flirted with you like this.

Your asshole of an ex-fiance quit complimenting you shortly after getting engaged. Come to think of it, most of the problems and red flags started happening after you got the ring on your finger.

Ugh, focus! You scold yourself. You have an attractive, out of your league man flirting with you and you’re here thinking of your shitty ex.

“Thank you. I think I would have remembered a face like mine, too.” You’ve never been good at receiving compliments, so you do what you do best and use humor to navigate the conversation.

He chuckles and immediately you’re wanting to hear more of that sound. It’s deep yet comforting and now you’re wondering if you’re being a weirdo for being attracted to a man’s laugh (amongst other things) like this.

You make small talk standing by the coffee machine as more people begin to trickle in. He tells you his name is Joel and that he’s been a park ranger for twenty years and a chief ranger for ten. He has a daughter named Sarah who’s in college further down in the state and you can tell just how much he cares about her by the way he dotes on her.

No mention of a wife or girlfriend, though. You don’t see a band on his finger… there’s no way this man is just walking around single like this.

In return, you tell him your name and some of your background (sans the trainwreck engagement) and he’s fascinated by the fact that you’re a professor.

His interest in you has butterflies fluttering in your stomach and it doesn’t help that he’s got the sexiest little Texan accent you’ve ever heard. Each word sending you deeper and deeper into this crush that has blossomed seemingly out of nowhere for a man you’ve just met.

Amidst the conversation that flows naturally between the two of you, there’s an aura of flirtation and attraction that the both of you seem to be reciprocating. Or at least you are. Hopefully you’re not reading this wrong.

Please don’t let me be reading this wrong.

It’s not until you both have finished your coffee that everyone arrives and he has to excuse himself.

Apparently he’s leading the orientation.

The entire time he’s giving his presentations and demonstrating safety procedures, you can’t help but ogle him.

He fits this career so well with how carries himself. Confident, steadfast, knowledgeable, fucking sexy. You just want to run your fingers through his curly, thick hair and tug on it while you ride the daylights out of him.

This sudden intrusive thought has you clenching your thighs together and that’s enough to get your focus back on the meeting and not how you want him to demolish you.

His forearm flexes, the veins protruding, as he demonstrates how to tie a tight and secure knot; his fingers moving dexterously against the rope.

Damn your dry spell and this attractive ass man.

The orientation concludes with everyone getting their assigned areas and tasks. Your folder is labeled 125.

“We’re on a two week on two week off schedule. You’ll spend two weeks manning your station before there’s a shift change. Daily tasks will be given during mornin’ check-ins along with any other pivotal information. Each camp has a binder with any additional information you will need alongside a long list of phone numbers and radio codes in case somethin’ goes awry. First shift report back here at 6 sharp tomorrow mornin’. Any further questions can be directed towards me or my partner Tommy.”

“Brother,” Tommy, who has been leaning against the wall this entire time, interjects with a playful grin and this has your brows quirking in both amusement and intrigue. He works with his younger brother. How cute.

“Yeah, yeah. That too.” Though it’s gruff, you can clearly pick up the lighthearted tone in Joel’s reply.

You want to stick around and talk with him some more, but you don’t want to come off as annoying so the second you’re all dismissed— you’re the first to be out of the room.

It’s not till you’re further down the hall that you hear your name being called out and turn to see Joel lightly jogging to catch up.

“I’m not in trouble, am I?” You ask teasingly and you catch the small smile that tugs at his lips.

“Not at all. Just wanted to make sure you were okay with your assignment.” You hadn’t even looked at the folder that he had passed to you during the meeting. It had all the information about your post.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You open the file and see a small map with your area circled in red sharpie. You see the surnames of all the other park rangers littered about on the page; and then you see Miller written by the fire lookout closest to yours.

“I gave you a smaller area since it’s your first time out here and all,” He scratches at his jaw, as if he’s almost nervous to be telling you this, “Once you get the hang of it, which ‘m sure will be in no time, I’ll put ya somewhere more… challengin’.”

It’s sweet, this gesture of his. Easing you into the job. If it had been anyone else, you would have defended your skillset and wit and demanded to be put somewhere ‘challenging’, but since it’s Joel you don’t think twice about it.

“Sounds like a plan. Thanks for this.” You smile up at him as you close the folder and he matches the expression, making him look boyish as his sweet brown eyes catch yours.

“No problem, darlin’. See you tomorrow mornin’?”

Or we can go back to my motel room, get to know each other a little bit better?

“See you tomorrow morning.”

⛰️ 🏕️ 🪓 🐻 ☀️

You finish packing the rest of your things before heading out for your first shift on the job.

Taking one last look at yourself in the mirror, you straighten out your uniform and fix your neatly braided hair before exiting the stuffy motel room.

You wouldn’t be so hung up on your appearance had it not been for the attractive DILF that’s suddenly overtaken every inch of your mind.

You haven’t stopped thinking about him since meeting him yesterday. He seems so sweet and kind; but also with a ruggedness that makes you wonder what kind of lover he is.

Is he a giver or does he only focus on getting himself off? Does he bite and leave marks? Does he prefer his women being bent over or on top of him?

Yeah, you definitely need to go outside and touch some grass.

This entire experience feels like a new beginning, a chance to reinvent yourself before flying back home and starting the new semester.

Your cab takes longer than expected to arrive at the motel, which in turn makes you late to showing up at the meeting spot.

When you burst through the doors, breathing heavily, your heart sinks at the sight of an empty room and you berate yourself for not allotting extra time for mishaps.

“Thought you got cold feet.”

You jump in your spot and whip around to face the handsome jump scare.

Joel is leaning against the counter on the back wall, arms crossed over his chest making the fabric of his button up shirt stretch obscenely over his toned upper body.

“Can’t be too jumpy out in the woods, darlin’. ‘S how you get got.”

“Fuck— sorry. My cab ran late, which isn’t an excuse for my tardiness but—”

He chuckles with a shake of his head and that has the rest of your words hitching in your throat.

“Relax, s’okay. All is right. Everyone else is already situated out there. Figured I’d hang back in case you showed. Didn’t really think you’d bail. Don’t seem like the type.”

You’re relieved, to say the least, that he’s taking mercy on you despite not liking the fact that he has to.

You’re a professional, running late is out of character for you. Even if it was due to a circumstance you couldn’t control.

You let your shoulders drop, pairing the action with a soft sigh. “Thank you. It won’t happen again. I’m more than ready to start the day.”

He studies you for a brief moment with an unreadable expression and it makes you self conscious. Is there something on my face? Is my hair sticking out somewhere?

“Okay. C’mon, let me drive you to your station.” He pushes himself off the counter and you follow him out of the cabin-styled building and to his ranger truck that has the park’s name printed on it in bold letters.

“Nice ride.” You say as you slide into the cab of the truck, setting your large backpack in the back seat.

He mutters out a brief thanks before starting the vehicle and pulling out into the rocky terrain of the park.

You can’t help the look of awe on your face as you stick your head out of the rolled down window to take in the view.

The picturesque peak of the mountain ranges surrounded by lush greenery is breathtaking and it only makes you more excited to have some alone time in the midst of it all.

What you don’t see, though, is the way Joel keeps stealing glances at you. He thinks you’re so beautiful, especially with how entranced you are by the natural setting.

You finally make it to the small area of your camp and he helps you settle in to the small structure that’ll be your home for the next two weeks.

It consists of a twin bed, bedside table, a small desk with your equipment on it and a lamp.

Very home-y. You really only got the place for the view.

“Thanks for the ride… and for waiting for me back there.” You tell him, adjusting the backpack strap against your shoulder.

“S’not a problem at all. I’m posted up a few miles north so that makes us neighbors.”

“Well, if I need some sugar or something— I’ll make sure to stop by.” You tease and this gets a chuckle out of him which has your heart soaring.

“Alright, sugar, you radio me or anyone else if you need anythin’’.”

“I will.”

⛰️ 🏕️ 🪓 🐻 ☀️

The first week goes by like a breeze. You spend most of your days hiking around your assigned area to make sure everything is as normal as it can be out here.

You tend to your daily tasks, listening along to your audiobooks. Taking in the scenery. You even find the time to explore some of the various native flowers and plants that bloom here.

It’s peaceful and exactly what you needed.

You come to discover that while you were already attracted to the sound of Joel’s deep, honeyed southern voice; you were even more attracted to it over the distortion of the radio.

Every morning you’re greeted by it during task assignments and when he gives the weather forecast for the day.

Every afternoon you hear it when he checks-in through the walkie talkie.

Every night you hear it when he does roll call to make sure everyone is alright and present.

Those are the only times you’re able to really communicate with him. You’re both so busy dealing with the job during the day then bone tired by night to really make anything out of the attraction that lingers.

And boy does it linger. You’ve never been this worked up over a man… like ever. Even with your ex the infatuation had never been this intense.

The sex with him was fine. Normal. Vanilla. The lovers you had before him were all a variation of the same thing.

So the bar was in hell— literally. That’s probably why you’re so obsessed with wanting Joel Miller to fucking destroy you.

You’re on the way back to your camp for the day when you come across a clearing, four men camping out of various tents.

“Park ranger here. Just making my rounds. Are you guys well?”

You smile politely at them, watching as they eye you up and down then suddenly— you’re feeling uncomfortable in your own skin.

“Better now. You out here all alone, sweetheart?”

You clock the pervy tone in his voice immediately, clenching your jaw but trying to keep an aura of professionalism.

You’re required to carry a gun and a taser, for obvious reasons, but not once did you ever think you would actually have to use it.

Yet with the way these men are staring at you like you’re a piece of meat— you’re really resisting the urge to let your hand hover over the weapon.

“Heading back to my partner now. You guys have a good night.” You lie with a forced smile that pains your lips as you turn from them, wanting to put as much distance between you and them as you can.

No way are you revealing that you are, in fact, alone with the nearest help being miles away.

“Oh c’mon, baby, stay a while.” A different man calls out and you can hear them following after you.

Your stomach bottoms out at the thought of them actually following you all the way back to your camp. Your location is marked on most of the maps that are posted around the area, in case of emergencies, but now you’re hyperaware that they could just go look for it and find you in no time.

Swallowing thickly, you trek forward and continue to ignore their catcalls until suddenly one of them has got a tight hold on your forearm and yanks you back against his chest.

You let out a squeal of surprise mixed with fear. Your only saving grace right now is your giant backpack since it keeps you from being flush against him.

“Get your hands off me!” You struggle against his iron grip, trying to use your free hand to reach for your weapon but he twists the arm he does have in his hold, and it renders you immobile.

You wince at the pain, adrenaline coursing through you as you hear his three other friends join and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what demise you’re about to meet.

You’re so fucking afraid so you channel that fear to kickstart your flight or fight— choosing both as you lift your foot then slam it down harshly against your captors foot.

Thank god for these heavy ass hiking boots.

The hit does enough to loosen his grip on you just enough for you to shimmy out; using the fleeting seconds you have to knee him in the balls before you take off running.

You hear them screaming profanities at you, calling you a “cunt” “bitch” “whore” amongst many other things. They’re relentless as you hear twigs snapping and leaves crushing beneath their running footsteps.

Your backpack is hindering you at this point so you unbuckle the straps that run across your chest and discard of it quickly, changing course to try and throw them off your trail.

You don’t know how long you run or where you run to, now completely lost as the last hint of sunlight disappears behind the mountains.

You don’t hear anyone chasing after you anymore but you’re not stupid enough to stop and check, so you do the next best thing which is to change your route again before finding solace behind a Giant sequoia tree.

Taking deep breaths to calm your racing heart, you slowly peek around the hefty trunk to see if they were still chasing after you.

They’re not.

Allowing yourself to feel relief, you lean back against the tree and close your eyes to keep the tears away.

Don’t cry— not now. You’re not completely out of the woods yet… ha!

You shake your head at your conscience, hands shaking as they reach for your walkie talkie to seek the help of the only man you want around you right now.

“Call to 121 from 125. Over.”

“121 to 125 on frequency 9. Over.”

You switch frequencies and immediately break procedure once you know it’s just you and Joel on the call.

“J-Joel? Do you copy? Over.”

Immediately he responds, worry evident in his voice.

“What’s goin’ on? Are you okay? Over.”

You take a second to calm down so you can concisely explain your situation.

“I was chased through the forest by a group of campers. I got disoriented, lost my bag, and now I-I’m lost and it’s so dark out. I need you to come find me. Or lead me to you… Over.”

“What do you see around you? Any distinctive characteristics? A trail? Over.”

He’s on high alert, getting methodical and procedural to suppress the rage he feels as your voice garbles through his walkie talkie.

You look around in desperation, flashlight in hand as you try to find anything that’ll pinpoint your location.

Nothing.

Letting out a frustrated groan, you weigh your options. You can walk around until you find something useful or stay put and wait who knows how long for Joel or those band of heathens to get to you.

He urgently calls your name through the walkie talkie when you don’t respond in a timely manner and you quickly snap out of your thoughts.

“N-No. Nothing. I’m going to keep walking until I find something. Over.”

“No. You have to stay put. ‘S dangerous out here at night. I’ll come to you. Over.”

“It’s dangerous during the day, too. I’m going. I’ll reach out to you when I find something… over and out.”

You don’t give him a chance to respond as you turn your walkie off, the batteries were already running low earlier in the day so you have to limit your use on it before you’re left stranded and walkie talkie-less.

There were extra batteries in your backpack… fuck men and their ability to ruin everything.

You walk through the pitch black forest with your chin held high, faking bravery to avoid succumbing to the fear that’s rattling in your bones.

The mosquitos bite at you, insects chirping about, and in the distance you can hear a coyote howl.

If you don’t survive tonight because of men then you won’t survive because of mother nature.

You wipe the sweat from your forehead, your exhaustion slowly catching up to you.

However, your ears perk at a low rumbling noise and your flashlight snaps in the direction in which you think you hear it coming from, your feet carrying you towards the source.

You damn near burst out in tears of joy once you see the large and beautiful waterfall that flows into the river below.

You radio Joel again, skipping the pleasantries and telling him your location.

You plop down on a bench that’s on the trail, overlooking the astounding scenery and finally you let out a sigh of actual relief. What a way to end your first official week as a park ranger.

About twenty minutes later you see his large silhouette booking it towards you, taking in your disheveled appearance once he’s close enough.

“Jesus fuckin’ christ, sugar, what the hell happened to you?”

He envelops you in his arms and you finally allow yourself to let a few tears seep out of your eyes and they land on the fabric of his shirt.

His smell, his touch are comforting as all hell and you find yourself melting into his embrace.

You feel safe. Protected.

“Just assholes being assholes. I ditched them, though. Barely. I should’ve been smarter and ran—“

He shushes you as you begin to victim blame yourself, pulling you from his chest so he can get a better look at your figure, trying to see if you were physically hurt.

Thank god you weren’t.

“All that matters now s’that you’re safe and with me, alright? ‘M west of here. ‘Bout a twenty minute hike. Can you make it?”

You can’t help but snort, blushing as his concerned expression flashes with frustration.

You’ve hiked through the Appalachian mountains— you can definitely do a mere twenty minutes. But you understand that he’s just trying to gauge how shaken up you are and is genuinely concerned about you.

“Yeah, I can make it.”

He pulls you into his chest once more and you inhale deeply, taking in his natural musk and how deliciously it pairs with the faintness of his cologne.

“Alright— let’s go.”

His chest rumbles as he speaks and you don’t want to leave the confines of his strong hold but you must. You’re ready to get this day over with.

You spill the details of your hectic predicament on the hike back to the fire tower he is stationed at. You can feel the energy radiating from his broad figure, his anger palpable as you describe the four men who had ganged up on you.

His strong jaw clenches, fists balling at his sides but he remains silent until you’ve finished.

You can only imagine what’s going on through his head… you can’t help but find his irritation alluring.

“If I had to ballpark it, I’d say they were roughly ten minutes north from my station. I know exactly where that clearing is.”

“You’ll stay with me tonight ‘n tomorrow after mornin’ announcements we’ll get back to your neck of the woods ‘n I’ll deal with those assholes myself.”

Your teeth sink in to your lower lip, his statement holding so much conviction that it makes your clit throb.

Then it sinks in: you’re staying the night with him… and you’re all sweaty and gross from the long fucking day you’ve had.

This would have been a much more enticing, ripe, and overall erotic scenario had today’s event not transpired.

“Not trying to sound pampered or anything but do you mind if I shower?”

“How on earth does that make you pampered? ‘S a shower, darlin’, and after the day you had today you need one.”

“You saying that I stink?”

“If the shoe fits…”

You elbow him softly as you both chuckle, not even realizing that you’ve gravitated closer towards one another.

Unlike your station, the fire lookout tower is much bigger and it sits higher up on the mountain. Large windows run all around the structure giving whoever’s inside a full 360° view of this side of the forest.

It’s absolutely stunning. You can only imagine how it looks during the day.

You look out from your spot on the wraparound porch as he unlocks the door then beckons you inside.

Yeah, this place is much nicer than yours. Probably because fire lookout shifts are usually more long term than normal park ranger ones.

There’s a small bathroom— with a shower—- in the far corner, along with a bed and some other miscellaneous furnishings.

Maybe you can sell your old place and move up here. The view is much nicer, anyways.

You laugh to yourself, lost in your own inner monologue and Joel looks at you funny.

“You good?”

Embarrassed slightly, you just nod. “Yeah, just a long day.”

His warm eyes convey the message ‘I understand’ and you instinctively smile.

“Sooo about that shower…”

“Uh, yeah, help yourself. Everythin’ you need should be in there. We get hot water up here so that shouldn’t be an issue. Holler if you need anythin’. Imma try ‘n find you somethin’ to wear.”

You thank him softly, trying not to look too desperate for a hot shower as you cross the room and close the bathroom door behind you.

Letting the shower run, you begin to strip from your clothes, cringing at how grossly and sticky you feel from sweating your ass off all day.

You feel all the tension leaving your body as you step beneath the shower head and the hot droplets of water hit your skin.

You swear this is the best shower you’ve ever taken. Why? Because you peeped Joel’s toiletries in there and decided to use his body wash and shampoo so now you smell like him.

There’s three rhythmic knocks at the door followed by his deep voice.

“Found some clothes. Can I come in ‘n put ‘em by the sink?”

You swallow thickly. Despite there being a shower curtain separating the two of you, you feel nervous about him coming in while you’re naked.

Not because of him but because of you. He’s got you all riled up without even knowing it.

“Or I can leave ‘em out here?”

“It’s fine, Joel, you can come in.”

There’s a hesitant pause before you hear the door opening, then his large shadow passing through and setting the small pile of clothes by the sink.

His eyes fall to the floor where you’ve left your heap of dirty clothes, seeing the feminine printing of your pink underwear peeking from below the khaki material of the shorts you’d been wearing. The matching bra not too far away.

He’s fucked— unbelievably fucked.

Joel hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you since you first met. Your smile unlike anything he’s ever seen before, your eyes a shade that makes him want to get lost in them forever, your voice a tune he wants stuck in his head all the time.

You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen and that’s quite the statement considering he’s surrounded by breathtaking sights all the time.

He’s crushing hard despite only barely knowing you for a week.

Then there’s that underlying, primal tension that simmers when you get too close. So it doesn’t help that’s he’s getting an eyeful of your discarded garments then is aware that you’re fully naked, smelling like him, on the other side of the shower curtain.

He stands in front of the shower, half tempted to just yank back the material and join you, fully clothed, just to fuck you against the wall.

No, he can’t think like this. Especially after the day you’ve had.

So he pushes those salacious thoughts away before leaving without saying a word.

You held your breath during the entirety of that silent and brief moment there.

You could feel his hesitation, really, and mentally yelled at him to give in to the temptation and have his way with you right here in the shower.

But he doesn’t hear you, obviously, and you begrudgingly finish your shower after he leaves.

You re-enter the main room dressed in an oversized national park tee and a pair of his boxers.

His cock stirs at the sight of you in his clothes and the smell of him on your skin. He has to look away before you catch him staring and label him as a creep.

“S’not much but I made you somethin’ to eat.” He’s at the kitchenette, all the fixings to make a grilled cheese strewn about the tiny area as he holds up a paper plate with your dinner on it.

Your stomach grumbles on cue, as if remembering that you haven’t eaten since lunch.

And just like that shower— the grilled cheese is the best grilled cheese you’ve ever eaten. Not because you were starving; but because Joel had made it for you out of the kindness of his heart.

Your standards are way too low if you think a man making you a grilled cheese sandwich is the most thoughtful thing in the world.

You two finish up quickly and begin getting situated for bed.

He’s being a gentlemen by giving up his bed to you while he takes refuge in his sleeping bag on the opposite side of the room.

You tried to fight him on it (to no avail) and now you’re both wide awake, laying in silence as the night passes by.

You toss and turn on the small bed, all of the sudden not exhausted like you had been on the walk up here. You can hear Joel shuffling around too and you let out a sigh.

“Can’t sleep?” His voice cuts through the darkness and you shake your head before remembering he can’t see you.

“No. I guess I’m still on go mode after everything.”

“Need anythin’ to help you sleep?”

Yeah, you. Just come over here and fuck me one good time—- I’ll sleep like a fucking rock.

You let out a small whine at the fantasy, your brain pulling cruel tricks on you as images of him tying the rope into a knot flash through your mind… they’re suddenly distorted and now he’s tying your wrists to the bedpost with the same adroitness from before.

“Y’okay sugar?”

Too lost in your wet daydream, you hadn’t realized your prolonged silence. Your thighs rub together, your slickness smearing over your folds.

“Just fine.”

Another pregnant pause before you hear him shuffling then his heavy footsteps nearing the bed.

You sit up straight once he’s near, the moonlight pouring in from the large windows cascading over half of his face and he’s got this look in his eyes that make you want to pounce on him.

“Y’sure there ain’t anythin’ I can do to make you feel better?”

His words drip with sensuality, a double entendre that knocks down the last wall of your self control.

“I can think of a thing or two.”

He stands tall over you, your eyes darkened with lust as you look up at him through your lashes.

It’s a ravishing sight, his fingers come down to brush some of your damp hair from your face and his thumb strokes affectionally against your cheek.

“Like what, baby?”

Oh, where do you start? A kiss, right? But you’re eye level with his hardening bulge and taking him down your throat has wetness pooling at your core.

But you really want to kiss him.

“Kiss me, Joel.”

And he does, bending himself over to hungrily smash his lips against yours.

You don’t hold back the whine at the feeling, your lips moving against each others in pure desperation as your tongue swirls around his before licking into his mouth.

You don’t know where this newfound confidence is coming from but you don’t do anything to deter from it.

You continue to make out, hot and heavy, as he crawls into the too small bed with you, pinning your body beneath his as he holds himself up with his strong forearms on either side of you.

Your hands eagerly run all over where you can reach. Squeezing his triceps, tracing down to his chest then digging your nails into his shoulders.

Joel grunts against your lips, breaking away so the two of you can catch your breath. His forehead falls against yours and you smile up at him.

“What you all smiley for?”

“Have you seen yourself? You’re something worth smiling over.”

He chases after your lips again and you’re back to making out like a pair of horny teenagers. Your fingers run along his warm skin beneath the fabric of his t-shirt, feeling how chiseled yet soft he is. You feel some of his chest hair and then you get curious so your hand falls lower until it’s at the band of his sleeping pants.

The hair there is coarser and you salivate at the thought of nuzzling your nose against the patch as you take him fully into your mouth.

Eager to feel his skin pressed up against yours, you tug at the hem of his shirt and he gets the hint, pulling back to discard of it quickly.

You inhale sharply at the sight of his bare torso, much more attractive than the mental image you’d been painting since you met.

“You are so hot.”

He exhales through his nose in a silent laugh before he descend on you again, except this time he doesn’t reconnect your lips.

His hands softly caress your body through his clothes, cupping your breasts and kneading them. This has you canting your head back and arching into his touch, moaning sweetly at how good it feels

“S’all you, gorgeous. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

This has you moaning louder as his fingers pinch your pebbled nipples and you begin rocking your hips against nothing just to relieve some of the pressure that’s built up against your core.

“Joel, please…” You whimper out, wanting him to rip these clothes off you and devour you entirely.

He knows what you want and what kind of man would he be to deny such a pretty little thing of feeling good?

He quickly undresses you and you’re so lost in the moment that you aren’t even plagued with self consciousness.

Every touch, every stroke and caress has you feeling flawless as he begins to kiss at your neck, his pouty lips sucking a small mark beneath your jaw and you hiss his name out of excitement.

His lips continue their assault against your neck before trailing down to your chest and between your breasts.

His large, calloused hand runs up and down your sides before he hooks his fingers under the band of his boxers that you’re currently still in, slowly pulling the fabric down.

“Ya sure about this? We can stop if you want to.”

“If you stop right now I might just kill you.”

He smirks against your chest, letting his curved nose run along the swell of your breast before his tongue darts out to kitten lick at your sensitive nipple.

You shudder and then he’s taking the nub into his mouth, sucking on it before letting his tongue flicker over it repeatedly.

“Oh fuck, baby, that feels so good.”

With your lower half now fully exposed, he massages your thighs and you spread them wider to allow him to rest against you comfortably.

He continues to give your tits attention but now he’s paired it with the sensation of him running his thumb against your obscenely wet slit.

Your hips buck up involuntarily at his touch and he pulls back from your chest to look up at you.

“Be patient, sugar, I promise imma make you feel good.” He husks out, just as turned on as you are, as he turns his head towards your other breast to begin lavishing it in the same attention he’d just given its twin.

His thumb dips between your puffy folds, gathering your arousal before he’s swirling it around your needy clit.

You bite your lip, eyes fluttering close as you allow yourself to get lost in the pleasure of this foreplay. You’ve never been with a man who was this attuned to your body; touching you in all the right places and having you make sounds you’ve never made before.

Your nipple falls from his mouth with a soft and wet pop as his lips trail down your abdomen, kissing the smooth skin along the way.

He reaches your mound, those chocolate brown eyes of his staring up at you as his hands find purchase on the backs of your thighs, spreading you wider for him so his broad frame can fit in between them.

“You’re s’wet, darlin’. Bet you taste fuckin’ sweet too.”

Your fingers reach down to run through his hair, lust blooming in your stare.

“Why don’t you find out?”

He groans, lowering his head until you can feel his warm breath against your throbbing cunt. With your fingers still intertwined in his hair, you tug him closer to you— dying to feel his touch where you need him most.

Usually, Joel would drag this out more. Tease you until you’re a puddled mess and begging for him to take you however he pleased.

But he’s drunk on you. His mind clouded with nothing but the vision of your naked body sprawled before him and your sheer eagerness to use him to get off.

It’s hot and exhilarating— which is why he wastes no time in attaching his mouth to your pussy, groaning as your arousal floods his mouth.

“Oh my god!” Your back arches off the bed, grip on his curls tight as he begins to eat you out like a starved and barbaric man.

His tongue flicks across your clit one, two times before exploring the rest of your cunt. The wet noises coming from his ministrations echo through the room and they only spur you further into your orgasm.

“So fuckin’ sweet, baby. I could die a happy man right in between these beautiful legs.”

Joel kisses and nips at your inner thighs before diving back in. His tongue flattens against your cunt as he takes long, broad swipes before his lips wrap around your sensitive nub and he sucks on it. Harshly.

A scream of pleasure rips from your throat at the action, hips moving against his face as his nose bumps against your clit when his tongue moves down to plunge into your tight hole.

He licks the inside of you, allowing you to rock your hips as your stomach tightens with your climax not too far away.

Sensing this, Joel brings two of his thick fingers up to your core, lubing them up with your wetness before he slides them in. The slight burn from the stretch is enough to have you seeing fucking stars.

“Just like that Joel please don’t stop.”

You don’t care if you sound needy or desperate— the whole reason you’re here in California is to experience something new and to forget about how shitty your romantic life has been in the past.

Joel’s doing an amazing job making you forget, his rough fingers pumping in and out of you as his mouth kisses your pussy.

“C’mon baby. I can feel how fuckin’ close ya are, sugar. Let go.”

His fingers curl inside you, brushing up against that spot that has you cursing out a litany of expletives as you clench around him tightly and cum harder than you ever have in your entire life.

Your fingernails dig into his scalp, grounding you as your orgasm quite literally has your soul leaving your body.

Your release coats his digits, mouth, and jaw as he eats you out through it. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you attempt to catch your breath, twitching at the oversensitivity between your thighs.

“Did so good, baby. Look so fuckin’ pretty comin’ undone like that.” He mutters against your ear, once again hovering over you before your mouths meet in a passionate kiss.

You can taste yourself on his lips and tongue, and it’s enough to spark another flame of arousal in your lower belly. Your legs wrap around his waist as his painfully hard erection presses up against your freshly fucked cunt.

“I want you to fuck me, Joel, please.” Your nose brushes up against his, giving him your best fuck me eyes in which he has no choice but to comply.

He shimmies out of his sweat pants, his swollen cock bouncing slightly as it’s exposed and your eyes widen as you look down to see just how fucking big he is.

Oh fuck, is it even going to fit?

“You okay, babygirl?”

You nod, eagerly. “Better than okay. I can’t wait to feel you inside of me.”

Your hand comes down to stroke him a few times, loving the way he groans out your name before swatting your hand away.

“Fuck— wait. I don’t have a condom.” He mutters and you quickly pull him down to you before he shifts away from between your legs.

“It’s okay. I’m on the pill and haven’t been with anyone in months.”

You have no problem with him going in raw, you actually prefer it since you want to feel every ridge and vein of his cock as he pounds into you.

However; if he’s been giving it out to the masses then maybe you should reconsider letting him fuck you… but he doesn’t seem like the type to whore out like that and you pray that’s the case.

“Me either. ‘M clean ‘n I don’t get much action out here.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

He laughs, actually laughs in your face and you can’t help but find this moment endearing.

“M’gonna have to instill some patience into ya, sweetheart. You’re a needy little thing.”

There’s a snarky reply on the tip of your tongue but it dies there as he sinks into you, the bulbous head of his cock stretching you out deliciously as your fleshy walls flutter around him.

“Fuck,” You both groan out in unison, relishing in how good it feels to be lost in each other like this.

He hasn’t bottomed out yet and you already feel so full.

“So big, Joel.” You purr out, feeling him twitch inside of you at the praise.

He rocks his hips into yours, finally burying himself fully inside of your cunt and you whimper at the feeling.

He stills, letting you adjust to his ginormous fucking cock, whispering sweet words into your ear as he peppers soft kisses against your neck and shoulder.

“You can move now. Please.” You roll your hips, crying out like a pornstar when the head just barely brushes against your cervix.

“Oh sugar you’re gonna have to keep those noises to yourself if you want to enjoy this for longer than two strokes.”

It makes you giddy knowing you have such an effect on him.

“Can’t help but express how good it feels.”

His hips cant back, cock sliding through your wet walls as he begins to thrust back into you. His movements start slow and patient, but once there’s enough of yours wetness coating the both of you; he readjusts you on the small bed and begins to set a ruthless pace.

“Yesyesyes, oh my god just like that!”

He sits back on his haunches, meaty hands gripping onto your hips for dear life as he fucks you harshly, the rusted springs of the bed crying out at the harsh movements.

“Play with your tits, baby, show me how much you like bein’ fucked like this.”

Not needing to be told twice, your hands come down to do as instructed; twisting and pulling at your nipples which heightens your arousal even more.

They bounce against your hold as he screws you with all the passion in the world. You’re hoping his rough touch against your hips leaves bruises. It’d be a lovely memory of this moment and how it’s not just a dream you’re having.

The sound of skin slapping against skin mingled with your respective sighs and moans of pleasure swirl around in the air, both of your bodies glistening with sweat from your coital activities.

He looks so sexy over you like this, the curls at the base of his neck sticking to his skin with sweat, eyes focused on your folds as your pussy stretches each time he fucks into you, tongue just barely peeking out between his lips in concentration.

You want to feel his lips on you as you cum for the second time tonight, so you reach for him and whine out his name and he happily complies, leaning over and crashing his lips onto yours.

Your tongues intertwine and you nibble on his lower lip as his hands move your legs to rest over his shoulders.

The change of angle is enough to topple you over the edge, and you cum with an aggressive shout of his name followed by your nails raking down the taut skin of his back.

His thrusts don’t relent as he continues to fuck you, and you’re too disoriented and caught up in pure bliss to do anything about it.

“Mmm baby cum inside me. I want you to fill me up and paint my walls with your cum, Joel, pretty please.”

You use that tone again, the porny one that had him almost coming prematurely. You pair it with a tight squeeze of your walls and that does it.

His thrusts stutter and he grunts huskily against your neck as he fills you up with his spend. You play with his hair as he comes down from his own climax, placing kisses against the crown of his head.

You both lay in a comfortable silence, him still buried inside of you while he holds himself up on his forearms.

“That was amazing.” You’re the first one to breach the quiet, “But I’m gonna need you to let my legs down. I don’t want to cramp folded up like a lawn chair like this.”

He chuckles against your sweaty skin, placing a kiss to your jaw before he pulls back and tentatively moves your legs off of his broad shoulders.

Joel pulls his cock out of you and you shudder at the loss, feeling his cum slowly dripping out and down your slit.

“Such a pretty sight.” He mumbles, bringing his fingers down to collect some of your mixed release before pumping it back inside of you.

You whine in protest, “Joel she’s sensitive. She just took one hell of a pounding.”

Though you clench around his fingers, your body contradicts your words.

“S’okay, sugar, I’ll take good care of her.”

And he does, god does he take good care of her and you for the remainder of the night.

#joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal #the last of us fic #joel miller #tlou fic #kat's writing.

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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 10 months

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How to Leave Comments on Fanfiction

So, I recently made a poll to know if people might find it helpful to have a list of things they could talk about when leaving comments on fanfictions, be it on Ao3 or on here. A majority of people were interested in seeing the post so, well, I'm making it. I started writing and posting stuff online when I was a teenager, on a website where leaving constructive criticism was the norm. It's by far the place where I've gotten the most feedback and it was an incredibly formative experience for me as a young writer — and it taught me how to leave detailed comments.

Writing comments doesn't necessarily come easy. It's something that you may need to learn how to do, but the good news is that you can learn how to do it, so don't worry if you don't know what to say at first. Hopefully this list will give you some pointers on how to do that.

This is more or less the list I go through when I want to leave a detailed comment. Even if I don't have a specific idea at first, I'll go through the steps and I never come out empty-handed.

Comment etiquette:

What became apparent with the poll I made was that a lot of people worry about how they'll be perceived by the writers if they leave a comment. Now, obviously, writers aren't a monolith, but 99% of the time writers will be thrilled that you took the time to leave a comment to let them know what you enjoyed in their fic. I cannot stress this enough. We're not going to judge someone based on a positive comment they leave.

As it stands, on Tumblr and Ao3, it's seen as rude to leave negative feedback, unless the author has explicitly asked for it/agreed to it, so that's what I'll be going over here. Since quite a few writers did say on that post that they would like to get constructive comments as well, stay tuned, I'm trying to get something together to do that for authors. Other than that, you're good to go.

The main ways to let an author know your thoughts on a fic on Tumblr are:

reblogging a fic with your thoughts underneath it

reblogging with your thoughts in the tags, which is often less formal

leaving a comment as a 'reaction'

sending in an ask if they're activated on the blog (which means you can stay anonymous, if anon asks are allowed)

Reblogging means that your followers will see the post as well, and is therefore really appreciated on Tumblr.

As a note, you may find different systems work for different fics! Maybe leaving tag rambles works for you when commenting on drabbles, for example for me it's the system I use to leave comments on smut.

General advice:

Everything I'm saying in here is for people who want to be able to leave longer/more detailed comments and don't always know where to start. If, for whatever reason, you're not comfortable or you don't have time to do it at the moment, a simple "I love the fic, thank you for writing it" always goes a long way for an author.

The key thing to keep in mind if you're trying to find something else to say, I think, is to try making the comment specific to the fic you're leaving it on. It shows the writer what you took away from the fic and the fic's strong points, which is both meaningful and helpful to an author.

Comments don't have to be long to be meaningful. Don't stress about writing a ton; a one-sentence comment highlighting the fic's humor or how emotional it made you can be incredibly impactful.

With this out of the way, I'll go through things you can talk about in a comment, starting with what I think is the easiest and moving on to things that could require more thought. You don't have to do all of that. You may never use some of the things on that list. Leaving comments should not be a source of anxiety. So take what you want from the list, maybe come back to it if you need more inspiration, and don't worry too much about it :)

Favorite line(s) : pull from the fic to let the author know what your favorite line was. If you wish, you can expand on that by saying why it was your favorite: did it make you laugh? Did it make you feel something specific? Did the author nail the characterization with it? Was there some incredible metaphor? Did you find it beautiful or poetic even if you can't go into detail? Is there one line in particular at the beginning of the fic that hooked you in and made you want to keep reading?

All of that is very valuable for a writer to know. Some of my favorite comments I've gotten were a list of a reader's favorite lines from a fic with one or two sentences to explain why they liked them, so don't hesitate to do that more than once if you can!

Emotions: if there’s one thing I know about writers, it’s that we’re thrilled when we’ve made you cry. So tell us: how did the writing make you feel? Did you laugh out loud? If you did, was it the dialogue, or the narrator? Did it make you cry? Which part? Could you relate to one of the characters? Did it make you feel seen? Did the fluff make you feel all fuzzy inside or did the angst twist knots in your stomach? This isn't an exhaustive list, and emotions are great to draw from when you're leaving a comment!

Favorite element of the writing: Is there one thing in the writing that struck you as being particularly good, or what was your favorite thing to read? Is the author a master at writing dialogue? Are their descriptions so good you could see the whole scene? Are they really good at getting in a character's head and describing their emotions? Were you hooked from the start and couldn't stop until you reached the end?

Characterization: Now, this might be less instinctive, but if you've been in a fandom for a while, you'll probably be able to identify these things fairly easily. You can tell the author if you think they've nailed one aspect of a character. Did you have a favorite character in the fic? What did you think of them? Did the author manage to capture their voice? Was the attitude spot-on? Which parts of the character, if you can name them? Were there aspects of the character you particularly enjoyed? Did the author shine a light on something you hadn't considered or on something you don't think is highlighted often enough? Is there one thing from the fic you can actually picture/hear a character doing/saying in your head?

Style: I'd argue this is the hardest part, and you shouldn't feel bad if it's not something you can really comment on. As someone whose first language isn't English, I know I struggle with it. Style can be perceived as the way the author's voice comes through in the text. It can come through in punctuation, in the way sentences are formed, in the choice of the words themselves. If, when you read, you feel something intangible that doesn't fit well in the other categories, it just might be the author's style.

Here are some things (non-exhaustive list, of course) you could say about an author's style: it can be direct, straight to the point. The author doesn't bother with ornaments. Every sentence feels impactful. Maybe the writing feels intense. You're overwhelmed by the characters and their feelings and you feel truly engulfed in the story. Maybe the style is light and airy. It's so easy to read you don't even notice you are reading. Maybe the writing is intricate. Going through it is like piecing a puzzle together, sentences are foreshadowing and metaphors reveal deep truths about the characters. Maybe the style is rich. While not always the easiest, it's a pleasure to read through it, the author has a wide vocabulary, and you might want to compare it to a well-written novel.

If you identify specific elements of that style (metaphors, interesting use of punctuation, etc.), don't hesitate to point them out and let the author know you enjoy them!

That is it for this post, hopefully it doesn't look too daunting — again, you absolutely do not need to do all that in any comment, but maybe going through this list can help you leave comments for authors you enjoy.

I like to end my comments with 'Thank you for writing and sharing this with us', so I'll tell you thank you for reading, I hope this was helpful, and please consider reblogging if you'd like to save this or if you think it could help someone else!

As a bonus, my friend @elidebrey and I (but mostly her) made a 'checklist' for commenting, to help remember all this if that's something you'd like, so use at will!

A big thank you to @elidebrey, @yoongihan and @antoniorhinothethird for their precious opinions on this ♥

#fanfiction #ao3 #fic #fic things #fanfic #archive of our own #author things #fanfic comments #ao3 comments #writing #long post #very long post #fandom

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number1jeonginstan · 10 months

Note

can you write about an au where when ppl meet/see their s/o they instantly feel like they need to consummate their bond? and seungmin meets y/n? (its fine if not tho)

A/N: Thank you for your request and sorry for it taking so long :( I really hope you enjoyed it! While writing this, I started getting an idea of making this into a series, so one for each member meeting their soulmate and stuff. I thought it would be neat, but I don’t really know if you guys want that or not, if you do, please tell me! ALSO, I told you guys I will be back on that writing grind (I always keep my promises!!)

WC: 2.6k

Minors don't interact, 18+

Pairing: College Student!Seungmin x afab! Reader

Warnings: kinda public sex, but not, unprotected sex (are we surprised?), cumming inside of op even though it was their first time, idk what else to add…

The air was thick outside, a light drizzle was hitting the ground as Jeongin and Seungmin were eating their lunch.

“Did you guys fuck?” Seungmin asked bluntly, dipping another fry in the ketchup in front of him. “You know we have to as soon as we touch, it’s so embarrassing though” Jeongin groaned. “How is it embarrassing? She now knows what your dick looks like and you guys can live happily ever after!” he chuckled as Jeongin took a sip of his milkshake.

“Dude, I don’t understand why we have to have sex as soon as we see our soulmate, the world is a twisted place. Like hypothetically, what if the dude is a virgin and the girl isn’t, or the dude has a micro? Even worse if they are both virgins, like imagine losing it to someone you don’t even know and then having to spend your entire life with them”

Seungmin just nodded along as Jeongin continued to go on and on. “Like think about it if I didn’t have sex with them, I would have a painful ass boner until we are either 100 miles apart or until I fuck her, not to mention, I can only have sex with them for the rest of our lives and we barely know each other.”

“I think you are reading too much into it, was she at least nice?”

“Yeah” Jeongin scratched the back of his neck “she was super sweet, I’m actually going to her place after this for a movie date”

“Awww, Innie is finally getting play, even though it is forceful”

Jeongin just rolled his eyes, popping another fry in his mouth. “I better get going, I don’t want to be late”

Seungmin watched him get out of their shared booth, only to almost run into someone and apologize. Seungmin just chuckled, knowing how clumsy his friend was, only to look up and see you.

He knew you from a few classes, you were also taking photography, but he didn’t believe it was your major seeing as you were only taking the required classes with him.

Jeongin profusely began apologizing, telling you he really didn’t mean it, you just giggled, telling him that everything was okay and it wasn’t your fault. As you turned around, you spotted Seungmin, and you stopped and looked at him for a second.

“You are Seungmin from my photography class right?” Seungmin was confused, he didn’t think that you knew him, let alone knew his name. “Oh um, yeah Professor Lee right?” he asked, trying to make it seem like he didn’t know exactly who you were.

“Yeah, I just wanted to say I love your work. When you showed us your portfolio, I was genuinely blown away. Like seriously, the way you capture the essence of everything around you is breathtaking.”

Seungmin could feel his ears getting redder, blushing slightly at the way you described his photos. No one had ever admired them the way you were describing them at that moment. “Thank you so much” he stuttered slightly, still a bit embarrassed.

“That actually leads me to my question,” you said, picking at your nails slightly. “Oh? What’s your question?” He asked, placing his chin in the palm of his hands, trying to show to you that you had his full attention.

“I’m a Journalism major, and I’m trying to work on my photography so I can better capture the essence of what’s going on at that moment in time. That’s why I’m minoring in it, but I feel like I’m just not there. Like sure, I have the camera and everything, but I feel like I’m not conveying the feeling or emotions of the event like you do, so I was going to ask if you could help me?”

You rocked back and forth on your heels waiting for his response, and he simply nodded “Yeah, I would love to help you”

You grinned “Um, do you want to give me your number, or I can give you mine so we can figure out a time if that’s okay, or if you don’t want to give me yours we can always meet up after class” you continued to ramble on.

“Give me your phone, I’ll put in my number and just text me right now so I can make sure it went through”

You simply nodded, handing him your phone. He put in his number, sending a text from your phone to his.

“See, I got it,” he said, holding up his own phone. “Why don’t I text you when I’m free and we can coordinate from there!”

“Thank you so much Seungmin, like seriously, I really appreciate it!”

Just before he could reply, your friend that you were with called you over to your booth, causing you to wave him goodbye and run over to her.

“Who was that?” she asked you, looking over the menu in front of her.

“He’s this really cute dude from my photography class, he said he would help me so I can take better pictures” You grinned to yourself, you had finally got the boy's number you had been fawning over for the semester.

10:21 PM

Hey, it’s Seungmin Wait, you already know that You know what, ignore the first two texts And that one And that one Shit. Ummm I just wanted to say that I am free tomorrow at 2 pm if that works with you. If not, that’s totally fine, we can find another time Anyway, have a good night!

You giggled at the texts he had just sent you, something about him being flustered over text made you so happy.

Seungmin rolled around in anguish waiting for your text, he wanted to know your thoughts. Maybe you thought he was crazy sending all those texts and ghosted him or no longer wanted his help. He was about to give up and go to sleep until he got your text.

10:34 PM

Oh hey Seungmin! Yeah, I think 2 works for me! I’ll bring my camera and stuff, and I’ll text you a good location Also, text me your coffee order, I’ll bring you some

He felt like a schoolgirl with a crush. You were so cute, asking for his coffee order, he just wanted to pinch your cheeks, but that would be weird, right? You guys barely knew each other, he would just watch over you in class and that’s all.

It was the afternoon and you had set up your camera. You had found this abandoned field a few months ago while just walking around listening to music. You thought it was the perfect spot to practice taking pictures with more emotion.

You had placed a picnic blanket in the grass big enough to fit 4 people as well as a blanket since it was getting cooler and you didn’t know how long you guys would be there.

You were waiting for Seungmin, the ice in his Americano slowly melting, the condensation slowly making the cup wetter. When your phone finally showed 2:05, Seungmin showed up. While you were wearing jeans, a white blouse, and a sweater with apples all over it, he was dressed in jeans, a white t-shirt, and a flannel.

“Sorry I’m a little late, I was trying to find this place,” he said, placing his camera bag onto the blanket. He took a step back, fully looking around taking in the view. “How did you find this place? It’s secluded, but absolutely stunning”

“I was just walking around one day and stumbled over this spot”

You handed him his iced americano, and he took it from your hands graciously. “So, I was thinking that we should practice different emotions, but the same scene, so why don’t we do that?” He took a sip of his drink and then placed it back on the grass.

You simply nodded, getting your camera, and waiting for his instructions. He turned to you and pointed in front of him. It was just some dandelions, it was nothing special, but he went on to explain.

“Dandelions are one of the very few plants that can grow anywhere and everywhere. Some might see them as a weed, but others may see them as a beautiful flowers that can withstand thousands of weather conditions. Now, think about what you want it to look like as you take the picture”

You did as he said, trying to fully understand the flower in front of you. You took the picture with the intent you had in mind, and you did it. The flower looked bright and powerful compared to the grass that surrounded it.

“Seungmin I did it!” you jumped up and down, showing him the hug. Before he could react, you gave him a hug, trying to express your gratitude. As you pulled away, it was like a switch had flipped in you.

For some reason, you could feel yourself get wetter. It was something you had never felt before, it felt uncomfortable, and the only thing you could feel was lust. The same was for Seungmin, all he could feel himself get hard the second you touched him. It wasn’t even just a random hard-on, but it felt so painful like he had to cum that second or else he would die.

“Seungmin, do you also feel that way?” You asked, feeling a bit scared, but your entire body was tingling like there was no other sensation. You could feel your wetness slowly drip down your thighs and there was no stopping it. “Yeah, fuck, I think it does”

“Can I please?” he groaned, he couldn’t bear the feeling of not being next to you, on top of you, inside of you. It’s like he could smell your wetness and had to indulge himself in it or else he would die. “Wait, I don’t have a condom, I don’t think we should”

Before he could even continue speaking, you stopped him, shutting him up by kissing his lips. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I think I might just explode”

You continued to kiss him, taking off your own sweater and pants, leaving you just in your blouse and underwear as he took off his flannel and pants. “But, what if?”

You stopped him, “I’m clean and am on birth control, if you are clean too then what’s stopping us? The only way this sensation will stop is if we are a hundred miles away from each other and that will take hours, so please just fuck me”

He groaned, going back to attacking your lips. He laid you on the picnic blanket you had brought, thanking your prior self for bringing it. He moved down to your neck, to the curve of your breasts as he continued to kiss them, pulling down the strap of your bra and blouse in one tug to give him access to your breast.

He began to tease your nipple, pinching it with his finger as he began to bite marks on your neck, claiming you as his. “Seungmin please stop teasing, I need to feel you in me right now”

That was all he needed, he pulled his shirt off, throwing it somewhere in the distance as well as his boxers. His cock was long, slightly thick, with two veins at the underside of it. You could feel your mouth water as he began to smear the pre-cum leaking from his tip onto the rest of his throbbing cock.

“Fuck baby, look at what you did to me just with a hug” he groaned. “I could say the same for me,” you said, pulling down your underwear to show your soaked core.

He looked at your pussy in awe, you were so wet he could easily slip in with no prep. “Fuck, so wet just for me”

You just nodded, playing with your clit, trying to give yourself some sort of stimulation. “Please Minnie, need your cock so bad” you pleaded, your doe eyes looking up at him. Before he could even register what he was doing, he aligned the tip of his cock, with your hole, slowly putting his cock inside of you.

You moaned at the sensation, you had never felt so full in your life. Once he had fully sheathed his cock inside of you, he let out a long and sultry moan. “Fuck baby, this pussy is everything”

Before you could moan in response, he began to fuck you like there was no tomorrow. Your legs wrapped around him, wanting to feel him hit that spot inside of you. “Fuck baby, fuck Minnie you feel so good” you moaned.

He lifted your hips slightly, causing him to hit that one spot inside of you. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck” you babbled, feeling so close.

He could feel your walls tighten around his cock, he could tell you were close, so he brought his hand down to your clit, slowly circling it in tandem with his thrusts. That was all you needed to cum.

You came screaming his name, your legs wrapping tighter around him, not wanting him to stop thrusting into you. “Fuck baby, if you keep doing that, I’m going to cum inside, please let me go” he whined.

You didn’t budge, feeling slightly overstimulated, but that didn’t stop you from begging him to cum inside of you, to fill you with his cum. That was all he needed to reach his peak, his load shooting inside of you, causing you to cum once again, your walls milking him dry.

He slowly pulled out of you, covering you with the blanket you had brought and wrapping his arms around you.

You were both covered by the second blanket you had brought. You were thankful for it, it was shielding the both of you from the cool air that would be nipping your skin if you didn’t.

“Who would have thought the dude I was looking at all of class for the past semester was actually my soulmate?” You said out loud, your head buried into his chest.

He cocked his head slightly to look at you. “What do you mean, I was looking at you in class all the time, I never saw you looking at me?”

You turned your head up to look at him “So we are both idiots who could have done this earlier if we actually talked to one another?” You asked, giggling a bit about how stupid the two of you were.

“Yeah, I guess so” he chuckled back, placing a kiss on your head. “Shit, my friends are going to tease me relentlessly for this, fucking my soulmate in the middle of a field” He groaned out loud.

“You guys tell each other when you meet your soulmate?” you asked, a bit confused

“Yeah, we have a group chat, Jeongin was the first to find his and now I’m second, I wonder how the rest of them are going to find theirs”

“You should invite me to them,” you said, kissing his lips once again.

“Baby, if I didn’t they would have kidnapped you and introduced themselves to you”

You just laughed, running your fingers along his face. “Now that we have gotten over the whole “need to fuck like bunnies” how about we do this again?”

Before Seungmin could even realize what you meant, you slowly moved on top of him, slipping his already-hardened cock into your soaking pussy.

“Fuck baby, I’m always ready for round two,” He said, groaning at the way your walls clenched his cock, you were made for him.

#stray kids #skz #straykids x reader #skz smut #ju <3 answers #straykids smut #ju <3 writes #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #seungmin #seungmin skz #seungmin x reader smut #seungmin x reader #seungmin smut #ju's <3 anons

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proqhetic · 6 months

Note

I'm so happy you're back!! I missed your yj posts on my fyp :(

could you write lottie x reader where they're at a party and the reader is tipsy, begging lottie to give her kisses, and lottie is just trying to put her to bed, thank you <333

a/n: i’m gonna cry dani ilysm😭😭 i got a bit carried away with this so im sorry if it seems kind of choppy 😥

the loud bass blaring from the speakers across the house was starting to give you a headache. you were a couple drinks in and the booze was just catching up to your system, swirling all your thoughts into one big whirlpool.

it’s been a long night of talking to random people and singing along to chart toppers from about 5 years ago. right now, you just wanted to find your girlfriend, really badly. you lost lottie at some point earlier in the night when she was pulled away by one of the other yellowjackets to play a drinking game with the rest of the team, and you hung out with some other friends from school.

navigating the sweaty, rowdy crowd was just awful. you were pretty sure this was practically the entire student population from your school, crammed into jeff sadecki’s stupidly big house. after squeezing past a couple rooms, you finally set your eyes on a familiar head of brunette curls.

you stopped in the doorway and watched on as lottie was zoomed in on an intense game of beer bong. she made that face she does when she’s concentrating — eyebrows furrowed, biting her bottom lip, the slight squint of her eyes. you couldn’t help but smile from the sidelines as she aimed the winning shot, and of course, she made it. a mixture of groans and loud whooping filled the room, as lottie happily turned to her teammate, shauna, and gave her a solid high-ten.

despite not drinking anything else, you somehow feel giddier than you did 5 minutes ago. but connecting the dots would’ve required too much brain power. instead, you stumble over to lottie and wrap her in a warm hug from behind. “congrats, babe!” you wish her with a grin, speaking louder than you thought you were in your head.

lottie yelps but an immediate smile appears once she sees you. “hi baby!” she greets, pulling you in for a chaste kiss, before her face contorts into a grimace. “oh, god, you smell of booze. how much have you drunk?”

lottie wasn’t typically one to drink a lot at parties, she wasn’t a big fan of the taste of beer. chances were you’d catch her smoking something instead.

“uhhm, like, just a bit…” you slurred out with an airy giggle, to which lottie groaned (affectionately). “i think you’ve had enough, we should get going soon, okay?” she said, pulling you aside by the arm. you whined at that, not wanting to leave so early. “nnooo, lottieee…” “come on, let’s get you sobered up a bit.”

whilst the two of you were walking to the kitchen hand in hand, you tried tiptoeing to give lottie another kiss, only to trip on an armchair in front of you and lose your balance. thankfully, your girlfriend has an insane reaction time and managed to catch you. “are you okay?” she hurriedly asked, pulling you up. “wanna kiss youu…!” was all you said with a cheeky smile. “no kisses until you’re sobered up!” lottie spoke firmly and you pouted the rest of the way there.

she pours you a glass of water and tells you to drink up. “mm, kiss first?” lottie rolled her eyes at how persistent you’re being, but eventually caved and gave you a peck on your cheek. “that’s all you’re getting. now drink up and we can leave!” content with what you got, you obliged and drank everything.

a moment passes and both of you stay standing, leaned against the kitchen island. lottie reaches over to brush your hair with her hand, strands getting entangled between her fingers. you turn to look up at her with your best puppy dog eyes, begging her once again for a kiss. “pleaseee, i’m not drunk anymore…” however, she was strong-willed enough to shake her head. “let’s get you home baby, you gotta rest.”

the drive back to your house was a comfortable silence, until you started mumbling along to the song on the radio, extremely out of tune. eliciting a laugh out of lottie made you grin and filled you with a sense of pride, that same giddiness overwhelming you

“alrighty, we’re here.” she announced as she parked the car. she hurriedly got out and came to the other side of the car to open your door and help you out. (you’ve proven several times that night that walking in a straight line would be a challenge.)

reaching your doorstep, you realised lottie would have to leave soon, and she’s only properly kissed you once. “do you wanna, maybe stay the night? my parents aren’t home and… i could use the company,” you asked, your fingers tracing up and down her arm. lottie’s face grew warm at your request, “really? i-i mean, yeah, of course!”

lottie’s hand reached for the doorknob, but you stopped her. “wait!” she turned to look at you, her big eyes widening in confusion. “can i have my kiss now?” you asked one last time. “pleeasseee?”

the corners of lottie’s lips quirked upwards as she let out a soft giggle. “fine, since you’ve been so patient with me tonight,” she murmured as she cupped your cheeks and finally gave you that kiss you’ve been yearning for all night. you instantly melted into it and rested your hands on her shoulders, pulling her in even closer

“there.” lottie said breathlessly as you two pulled away for air. you felt lightheaded and just stared back at her, dazed. “now let’s get you to bed.”

#danisbrainrot #lottie things 💭#lottie matthews #lottie matthews x reader #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader

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demonpiratehuntress · 8 months

Note

Hii this might be an odd request. Feel free to ignore this if you don't like to write.

You know, straw hats have doctor, cook, swardsman, navigator,... Can you add another one who do mathematical, physics and chemistry stuff? If you can please make her a female.

She is not a genius. More like an average person. But she tries so hard. Sometime get lazy and unproductive too.

And if you can please make it a Ace x reader fic.

Thank you.

sure thing! :) it's not very long, because I don't know what else they can do in terms of those things, but i hope you still enjoy it! sorry for the wait!

taglist - @kabloswrld

someone's gotta do it

Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader

summary - the ask above

warnings - none

The Straw Hat crew wasn't very big, but it was certainly diverse. You guys had everything ranging from a navigator to a musician, so there were a lot of areas of expertise that were covered. All except for three, you supposed, which was constantly the downfall of the crew in certain situations.

A mathematician was needed, a chemist was needed and a physicist was needed.

You weren't exactly an expert in any of those areas, but you were doing your best to try and make up for those losses. You were doing your best to fill in those roles where absolutely necessary, so it wouldn't cost the crew as much anymore.

You had lots of duties to fill in these areas. You studied the log pose to determine exactly how it worked, marveling at the discovery of geomagnetism and excitedly explaining to the crew how it worked. This helped to better understand navigation in the Grand Line, and you felt useful providing that knowledge.

These duties also included setting a budget for the crew's spending on groceries and necessities, as you had to add up and subtract things you needed and things you didn't. Sometimes it was a hassle, because Luffy kept trying to add things that you absolutely did not need or even want.

"But it looks cool!"

"Luffy! Do you know how far that'll set us back in terms of berries!" You cried in exasperation, knocking your captain on the head. Oh no, you were starting to sound like Nami.

Speaking of Nami, you could also help her with her charts and her navigation. With mathematics, you could assist in charting courses that you've been on, and calculate the exact speed and distance the Sunny would require to get to certain places or away from danger. It was quite useful for that, as you could also determine how long it would take to get to a certain destination. Well, to the best of your ability seeing as this was the Grand Line after all.

"She's new."

An unfamiliar voice met your ears when you stepped out of your room to find the others out on deck, surrounding an unfamiliar man. He looked a bit like Luffy, but with freckles on his cheeks and a cowboy hat on his head.

That and he was shirtless.

You tried your hardest not to stare, blushing madly as you immediately thought that this was a really attractive man. You didn't know who he was, but you were attracted to him.

"Our mathem-mathe-maps?" Luffy tried, unable to pronounce the word.

You giggled and stepped forward, holding out your hand, "I'm (Name), the newest member. I do all the mathematics, physics and chemistry around here. Or, at least, I try my best."

The man grinned and shook your hand, "Nice to meet you! I'm Ace, Luffy's brother."

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped, "Luffy's...brother?!"

Ace didn't seem offended, instead he laughed at your reaction, "Yeah, we get that a lot." He got Luffy in a headlock and ruffled his hair. "It's always hard to believe this little idiot is my younger brother, since I'm so charming and intelligent."

You giggled at his words, then even more so when the crew all disagreed with the second trait he mentioned.

Ace stuck around for a few days, wanting to spend some time with his little brother now that Luffy was a bigshot pirate with a big bounty and a special crew. But instead of hanging at his brother's side, Ace was curious about you. He thought you were cute, so he tried to spend some time around you, and you fell victim to his charms and his flirting.

"So, whatcha working on?" The commander grinned, leaning against your desk as you wrote down a few formulas for different chemicals.

"Hmm?" You glanced up, then blushed and quickly looked down. "Oh, nothing. I was just trying to find out how different chemicals and substances react with each other, in case we ever come across some weird devil fruit power or a chemical environment."

"And? Anything interesting?" He prompted, still smiling.

You sighed and shook your head, "Nothing useful. I'm kind of getting bored and I don't really want to read more."

He laughed then, standing up straight and holding out his hand, "Then come with me. And you can tell me about navigation using the stars."

You blushed again but accepted his offer, taking his hand and following him out. The two of you lay on the grass and stared at the sky, as you explained how sailors could locate the positions of islands or navigate where they needed to go using certain constellations and stars. He listened intently, not usually interested in this stuff but eager to hear you talk. He liked your voice, and he thought it was refreshing to see someone talking animatedly about something other than treasure or the One Piece.

"That's interesting," he spoke when you were done, "My brother's lucky to have someone so smart on his crew."

"Oh I'm not that smart," you turned red and shook your head, "I just try, that's all. Most of the time I don't even do anything and I just lay and watch the sky. It's hard to be motivated sometimes."

He studied your face as you said this, then grinned again, "Well, everyone gets lazy and unproductive sometimes. The good thing is that you're trying."

His words reassured you, and you smiled at the thought that he was impressed by you. You glanced at him quickly, then looked back at the sky and felt your heartbeat quicken.

"Someone's gotta do it."

He laughed at that, and turned to face you, "I like you. You're a refreshing change of pace in the world of pirates. No one usually cares about what you do, so it's nice to see you care."

Your cheeks warmed up at that, "I just don't want it impacting my crew, that's all. Sometimes we get let down by not knowing this stuff. I just want to protect my crew from that."

"A noble cause," he agreed.

You snorted, "Since when is anything pirates do noble?"

And the two of you laughed and joked around there under the star-filled sky, and suddenly you didn't feel so ridiculous about wanting to specialise in those topics that pirates generally never used.

Maybe you could also do it for you.

a/n - so, um, i dont even know if i got this right so im SO sorry if i didn't! i wasn't really sure how to go about it, so im really really sorry if it's disappointing. i tried, though!

#one piece #op #one piece x reader #one piece x you #ace x reader #ace x you #portgas d ace #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace x you

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kenposting · 1 year

Text

He's Just Ken <3

Summary: Ken has always been more than fond of you, and he kept that to himself, like a small thought that didn't mean much. You, unbeknownst to him, of course, felt the same, and he is shocked to learn this.

AN: Erm I grew up writing on Tumblr but then I graduated and got a job and got married and very quickly divorced (I'm literally only 21 and he slept with someone else lol) and I figured I might as well start again so I am sorry of this is ridiculous but I just think Ken is the sweetest and he would never treat anyone like that! Damn. PS: Khosh if you saw this, no you didn't.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The sky got darker every night, and for some odd reason, it really, really frightened you. You weren’t sure if any of the other Barbies felt the same. Did anyone else make sure to hurry home before the light started dimming? Sure, you could ask about it, but what if this was a malfunction? What if they sent you to see Weird Barbie?

You supposed that wouldn’t be so bad… unless they sent you to her alone… at nighttime.

With a humph you washed the thought away and roller skated a little faster. With panicked glances behind you up at the sky, you missed what was right in front of you and bumped into something. Hard.

All you heard was a yelp mixed with your own sound of surprise before hitting the ground. You blinked a few times before opening your eyes all the way. Again, you saw night fast approaching, but in the foreground was Ken.

“Oh, hey Ken!”

“Hey, Barbie!”

“That hurt.”

His skin glistened above you and you wished so bad that he wasn’t there to see you right now. How embarrassing… You really were good at skating too, but now he’ll never know that. You were quick to ask Ken if he was hurt as well, but he’s much larger than you and remained that it wasn’t more than a gentle bump. His yelp was one more of surprise and worry than anything.

One pink-opened-face ambulance visit later and you were on your way. Although, now… it was nighttime and everywhere you looked was shaded a deep blue.

Ken picked up on your uncomfort quickly, brows furrowing at the way you almost folded into yourself.

“Are you okay, Barbie? You’re usually so good at skating, I was surprised to see you fall.”

You jumped a little, forgetting he was there, your breath catching in your throat. Wait, he thought you were good at skating?

“Sorry, Ken. I’m fine! Just…” you remembered the possibility of this being a malfunction and decided not to mention it. “Just a little dazed from the fall. Do you remember which way my Dreamhouse was?”

Ken thought very hard. He looked as if there were actual wheels turning in his head. You worried he would hurt himself.

“Of course I do, I just hope you’re okay. I’m trying to think if I’ve ever met anyone that had forgotten where they lived. Maybe this requires visiting Weird–”

“No!” A silence fell between the two of you. “No, I’m okay. I just… wanted an excuse to ask you to walk me home.”

You had never seen Ken’s face that shade of pink before. Yes, you were afraid of the dark, but there was a very real underlying truth to your statement. You were always close with Stereotypical Barbie and had heard many times her griefs about Ken and the ways he liked her, and it sort of perplexed you. You got that she just didn’t feel the same, and it was sweet how he couldn’t pick up on that, but gosh… so many times you had found yourself wishing to be her, just for a day. After everything went down between the two of them, you saw a huge change in him. He was lighter, more sure of himself. You had even mentioned to the Barbies at a few girls nights how you felt very differently about him than Stereotypical barbie did, followed by squeals and encouragements to go after him. You couldn’t decide, though, which was scarier: nighttime or speaking to Ken.

Ken stammered over his response before settling on a simple “Sure,” lifting out a bent arm for you to hold on to. You still had your rollerskates on, of course, because you didn’t bring any change of shoes. Duh.

He slipped on his rollerblades too so you’d feel more comfortable, reassuring you he suddenly just felt like skating too. He thought it was cute that you couldn’t rollerblade yet and still used standard skates instead. You let him lead the way, the two of you gliding gently across the pink pavement. It was quiet at nighttime, and although that frightened you, something about this was different. Peaceful.

You noticed Ken intentionally making some wrong turns. Maybe he also enjoyed spending extra time with you. Another humph to clear the thought from your head and, before you knew it, you stood outside of your home.

Ken looked down at the ground, unsure of what to do or say now. He had also been searching (for weeks now, maybe months) for an excuse to walk you home. Never did he think that would happen, let alone the desire ever be reciprocated, even in the slightest. He started minimizing the whole thing in his head, reminding himself that it would be ridiculous if you thought of him in a way that was anything more than just friends, plus, you just fell down, you probably didn’t want to walk alone in case you fell again, and–

“Ken?”

He had truthfully forgot you were even there.

“Oh, sorry, Barbie. I’ll walk you to your door.”

Something came over you and you panicked again. What if this was your only chance to tell him you liked him? I mean, how much longer could this go on? The skates made you much taller than you typically stood. Unfortunately, so did his, and you were still much smaller than him. You resorted to standing on the toe-stoppers to gain a little height, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Thanks, Ken."

He looked like he was about to barf, but in a really good way, if that makes sense. His mouth fell open and his cheeks darkened again. He wanted to say something – so much, he wanted to say so much, but he just… couldn’t. He just stared at you, frozen in place.

You couldn’t believe you just did that. A thought crossed your mind, and at first it was sort of funny, but then very sad.

“Hey Ken, where do you sleep? All of you, actually, where do the Kens sleep?”

He still just looked at you, lips still parted. After blinking a few times, he looked around, almost searching for an answer littered on the ground somewhere. “Beach.”

He laughed at himself. “Sorry, the beach. We just hang out at the beach.”

“The beach? But its so dark out there…”

His head tilted to the side a little. “It’s always dark at nighttime. You don’t like it? I find it kind of nice, actually.”

You sheepishly shook your head. “It really scares me. For whatever reason... I always make sure I’m home before the sun goes down.”

“So that’s why you’re never at any of Barbie’s parties?”

You looked up at him and noticed your lipstick marked on his rosy cheek.

“You noticed I'm never there?”

“Of course I noticed. You’re the only reason I ever go.”

He blushed after letting that slip.

“And, it’s also fun, I guess.”

You felt your cheeks start to heat up, but that’s nothing new. You always felt like this when you’re around him.

“Anyways…” He smiled at himself. “You should come. I can walk you home every time so it won’t be scary.”

Something bubbled up inside you and you literally and physically couldn’t take it anymore. You stood up tall to kiss him again, but this time he noticed, and you stilled in his gaze.

“I…” Why was this so hard? You had daydreamed for ages about what to say to him if you ever gained the courage to speak up, and now that you finally can, it seemed impossible.

“Do you want to some inside?” That wasn’t right. “I mean, I want you to come inside. Do you also want to come inside?”

He looked at you so lovingly and let out a gentle laugh. He liked you so much, he didn’t even process what you had asked. Wait. Come inside? You wanted him to come inside? Like boyfriend girlfriend?? His eyes widened.

“Why?”

You stilled at his response. You just wanted to cry. He was right, why? Why would you ask such a dumb question? He would never like you that way, and you felt silly for assuming he would.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. I’ll see you later, Ken–”

“No!” He startled himself at the outburst. “Sorry, I meant… Why me? Do you… Do you like me?”

You were relieved at his explanation, but he wasn’t exactly making it easy for you.

“Well… yeah. That’s why I’m asking you to come inside.”

It was like fireworks went off in his brain. Your words banged around inside his head so loud he couldn’t think of anything else. You liked him? You did just say yes, didn’t you? Did he make that up?

“Oh well I also like you too as well a lot very much.”

What? Literally what. What was that. He cringed at himself a little. He had also been dreaming of what he’d say to you, and this was definitely not it.

You giggled at him. He was just so sweet, and so so nervous. Both of you were. You took his hand and lead him towards your home.

Inside he just stood there, unsure of what to do. It was like if he moved he’d somehow ruin everything. You noticed he was like that a lot, actually. It made you kind of sad.

He had liked your friend so much before, and even though that was years ago, it seemed to still really impact him. You realized it wasn’t about her, it was about him. It had changed the way he saw himself. Her not liking him back got twisted up in his mind somehow and he had taken it to believe that no one liked him. He felt silly for thinking she ever would, that anyone ever would. It became part of his own perception of the world around him, that he was some sort of nuisance or a bother.

You sat on your couch and he helped you unlace your skates. His hands were stong and gentle, and with your skates off, he was now much taller than you. You stook directly at eye level to his chest. His shape was so defined. Gosh, why did Mattel build him that way?

Blinking the nerves away, you made your way to the kitchen. Bless his heart, honestly. He has no idea how good he looks, right now or ever. This was also silly at first, but now that you thought about it, it was sort of sad. Why didn’t he know? What does he think of himself? He’s always so dismissive of compliments, even from other Kens. Of course he asked why when you invited him in, he can’t comprehend being worthy of something like that. Sure, you had moments of being insecure as well, but this felt different, deeper.

You glanced up to see him still sat on your couch. He was fidgeting with his hands and looking around. He looked like he felt uncomfortable; like he was somehow gravely out of place and believed he had overstayed his welcome.

There was an ache in you at seeing him like that. As soon as you walked into the room, he perked up and smiled, thanking you for the glass of water – but you noticed his hands were shaking as he sipped it.

“Ken, are you okay? I understand if you don’t want to stay over.”

He nearly choked on the drink. “Stay over!? I thought you just wanted me to stop by, like, out of courtesy.”

You smiled warmly at him and something … changed. He felt something shift inside of him, like he could feel that your smile was genuine and real and more than a courtesy. You looked at him the way he looked at everyone else.

“No, Ken. I…” How do you say this?

“I do like you, and if I wasn’t so shy, I’d tell you all about it. I love spending time with you. You just look very handsome and its making me a little nervous.”

You heard a slight gasp from him. He had been waiting his whole life to feel liked or wanted or invited or worthy or important or… well, handsome. And to hear it from you? It was just too much. He teared up a little, something a lot less foreign to everyone since traveling to the Real World. He liked crying, actually. He just didn’t know why it happened so much. Was he just weaker than the other Kens?

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” He sniffled out an apology, standing up to leave. It must've been a real mood-killer and the last thing he wanted to do was bum you out.

You stood too, taking ahold of his hand. He looked down at you and saw you were also tearing up.

“Ken, you’ve got to believe me.”

He didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t. He just stepped toward you and held onto you.

The two of you cried – and the two of you apologized for it at the same time, your tears quickly evolving into giggles. The more you both tried to apologize for being a bummer the more you’d speak over one another and it really was very silly.

He was blushing now, and he looked much more confident. He’s never met anyone that also feels so out of place. He felt comfortable around you, like he didn’t need to worry if he was bothering you. And to think you felt like you weren't worthy of him liking you? That was ridiculous, and very confusing for him, but it mad him feel differently. If he felt it was silly for you to feel unlikeable, wouldn't that mean he was silly for feeling that way too?

“Its okay, Ken, really. I like you, right now. You don’t have to do anything else.”

And he’d never forgotten that. Everyday he was excited to exist for the first time in a long time. The already pink landscape of Barbieland seemed so much brighter now, and day after day he had a spring in his step.

Months went by of him being encouraged by you, invited by you, seen by you -- he truly did like like you and he had no idea what to do about it, but he figured everyday he’d try his best to show you.

Today was exactly six months since you biffed it on your skates. He still felt bad for knocking you over, but he was glad it happened.

He breathed a shaky breath before knocking on your door. He was still always so nervous to see you, but in a good way.

You opened it to be greeted by Ken in literally a tuxedo, and you immediately felt bad after letting out a laugh. He just beamed and laughed with you, striking a pose. So cool.

“I know, its a lot. But I look good, don’t I?”

You smiled up at him and shook your head.

“Ken, you always look good. What is going on?”

He handed you a bouquet of daisies (that matched his boutonniere, of course) and a shimmery white gift box.

Shocked and confused barely scratched the surface. What was he planning? Sure, every time he saw you he brought you a gift, but it was usually something small and genuine, like a rock that ‘reminded him of you’ or something he noticed you eyeing on your last date.

He shrugged it all off as if he wasn't dressed for some important extravagant black tie event.

“I wanted to take you out and I wanted it to be special. Thought it would be nice for a change.”

You felt like crying again. All the Barbies and Kens teased the two of you for being sensitive, but you really did enjoy the vulnerability the two of you shared. I mean, how sweet is he? Could he get any sweeter?

The gift box held a blush pink gown, which, of course, made you cry for real this time.

The two of you looked very lovely together. You both giggled the entire duration of the very long and uphill car ride, Ken giving you secret directions to the spot he picked because he cannot drive (LOL).

You turned the corner to see a very small and intimate restaurant. It was encased at the edge of the mountain, overlooking the sea.

Now both of you were crying (and laughing at each other because the other was crying). He took your hand and lead you to a small candlelit table.

“Ken, what is going on? This is all so beautiful.”

He looked down and smiled, shrugging, before straightening himself up and clearing his throat. You presume he was attempting to build confidence, and it worked for a moment, but he very quickly returned to appearing very nervous.

“Six months ago you absolutely ate it on the pavement and I’m really glad you did.”

He was not off to a great start, but you found it charming.

“Not that I was glad you got hurt… Sorry, hold on.”

He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of pink paper.

“You wrote this down?”

“Hey, you’re ruining it!” He laughed at himself, feeling a little silly and overly serious.

“Anyways…” He tossed the paper, opting for improvising the rest of what he wnated to tell you.

“I’m glad you suck at rollerskating because that means I get to hold your hand and guide you. I’m glad I can’t drive because it gives me an excuse to ask you to take me everywhere. I’m glad the nighttime freaks you out because I get to swoop in and save you from it. I’m glad you cry all the time because I do too and I’m glad I do because it probably makes you feel better about it, just like you make me feel better about it.”

He was right, and his words had you crying already.

“I hope you never get better at rollerskating or not crying or being scared of the dark, and I surely hope I never learn how to drive, but even if all of that did happen, I promise I would make up another excuse to be with you. That night you told me you were also looking for an excuse to be with me when you, again, absolutely spilled on your skates, and for the first time I felt like I meant something to someone. And to you.” He sighed at the thought of it. “I can’t believe it was you. I wish I had words to sum up the amount of time I had been running through what I’d say to you if I only could, and I still choked on it, just like now. Everyday it’s like I can’t breathe when you’re not around. I mean, all the Kens hate me because I can’t shut up about you.”

The two of you laughed again, and you saw he was tearing up now too.

“I like you Barbie.” His blush deepened. “No, I love you, Barbie. And I wanted to take you here to try and make you feel even a fraction of how you make me feel. Special, and important. And handsome.”

“Ken…” He did look so handsome in the lighting, and the lull of the other guest’s conversations washed over the two of you. You realized the nighttime wasn’t so scary when Ken was around.

“Ken, I love you too.” You response was rushed, like you couldn’t help the words from just spilling out.

“I’ve always liked you, for years, you can ask the other Barbies. I don’t have the words either, but I promise I thought of you just as much, if not more. I still think of you. I’m thinking of you now and you’re in front of me.”

He giggled at you and felt the familiar warmth of being truly appreciated.

“I just wish there was some way to show you.”

His eyes looked up at you. He felt the same way you did. He also noticed sometimes you couldn’t believe he liked you either. It was a funny situation, the two of you both feeling flattered in the other’s gaze.

“Then show me.”

You couldn’t make it home fast enough. You fumbled with the door of the Dreamhouse before leading him inside. His hands were shaking again, but not from insecurity or fear this time.

He was so gentle as he touched you, grazing his hands over your arms, almost like he was seeking permission.

“Yes, its okay.”

His breath was shaky, as was yours, and every gesture was laced with respect and admiration. He was slow and attentive to your reactions. You stood tall to kiss him, but you couldn’t make it. He smiled at you before leaning down to help you close the gap, choosing to still let you kiss him instead of the other way around.

Sure, the two of you had kissed lots of times, but always very quickly. Both of you were head over heels for the other and the thought of anything more made your ears heat up. You slowly leaned forward, pressing your lips against his. He placed a gentle hand on the small of your back, guiding the two of you.

You sat on your couch like you both had hundreds of times. What was so different now? It felt personal, like you both knew he wasn’t over to just hang out this time.

“Is this okay?”

His blue eyes were just enchanting. Everything about him, actually, like all he was programmed for was making you laugh and ensuring you were always comfortable.

You nodded, asking him the same.

He smiled at you.

“Yeah, more than okay. I just want you to feel safe.”

You just wanted to scream. He was so sweet and kind and handsome and tall and silly and smart. It was just ridiculous.

“Ken.”

You began, looking very serious. He thought it was very cute.

“You said you loved me and I love you too.”

He nodded, wondering where you were going with this.

“That means we’re girlfriend boyfriend.”

He felt a little dizzy hearing you say that, like he’d imagined it so many times before, and he hadn’t really thought about it in a while.

“And I think I want to do what girlfriends boyfriends do.”

He smiled at you. You looked so sweet.

“And what is it that they do?”

You hadn’t really thought that far yet.

“I’m actually not sure.”

He knew what that felt like. When he went to the Real World with Stereotypical Barbie, he learned all about what people do when they’re girlfriend boyfriend, and a lot of it was sad and felt very mean to the girlfriends. He did remember, though, a lot of movies and books he’d read about the nice and sweet parts of it though.

“I know a little bit about it, but I’m not sure if you’d like it.”

He wasn’t teasing you at all, and you knew that. He leaned forward and whispered, too shy to speak about those things too loudly.

Your eyes widened. This all sounded absurd, but you couldn’t help but notice a warmth spreading throughout yourself. For some reason you wanted to kiss him more than you ever had.

“Of course, I’ve never done any of it before. But I guess there’s a first time for everything, and it seems like most people in the Real World take it very seriously.”

Your brows furrowed at this and you sat up straight, taking it very seriously.

He couldn’t help but laugh at you. You were just glowing, sat there in your gown he picked out for you. It was an honor to see you always, but now felt even more special. He couldn’t believe you were thinking about him. It was very sweet, but he also felt a warmth spreading within himself, one he didn’t recognize, and he also wanted to kiss you.

The two of you sat in this feeling for what felt like hours. You felt like you were on fire under his gaze, and he felt the same way.

“Ken, can I kiss–”

He didn’t let you finish.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

More Ken stories here <3

#ken #kenergy #just ken #ken x reader #ken barbie movie #<3

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blues824 · 10 months

Note

May I requests Prompts #27 and #29 with Idia Shroud?

- @sanctum-of-ramshackle

You requested: Hot Chocolate for the Cold + Holiday Blues

A bit OOC?

Idia Shroud

The holiday season wasn’t really easy for either of you, so you both agreed to have a low-key date to try and cheer you both up. It would fit within his boundaries of comfortability, as you both had just started dating not too long ago, and it wouldn’t require much socialization at all.

You packed up the hot chocolate ingredients that you had gotten from Sam’s shop and made your way to Ignihyde. It was cold, and you hated it, but you would do anything right now to be in the presence of your lover, and Grim wanted some alone time as well. You didn’t blame him, so you told him to not set Ramshackle on fire and let you have a moment of peace.

Anyway, by the time you reached your boyfriend’s dormitory, Ortho was waiting outside for you. You gave him a hug and a smile before going inside, immediately relishing in the warmth that the dorm surprisingly offered you. Idia delayed his going home just for this, and you felt so grateful for that. Because other students were away, the dorm could be kept at a higher temperature, as there were less computers running.

It didn’t take long to find his room, but you were headed towards the kitchen to make the hot chocolate. The aroma of the sweet treat was wafting through the kitchen, and Ortho told you how his older brother liked his cocoa. You grabbed two mugs, slightly stained from the amount of coffee the students drank. No matter how many times you tried to wash them, the stain would not come out. Did you really care though? No.

Mixing the cocoa powder, sugar, and milk together in the saucepan on the stove, you had the younger Shroud brother crushing candy canes and readying the whipped cream so that they both would be ready to top the cups. You left some of the mixture in the pan, writing a note to whoever else was here that it was up for grabs and they needed only to warm it up a bit.

Once they were ready, you carefully walked over to Idia’s door and opened it, trying to be quiet because you didn’t really know what he was doing. There really was no need, however, as he was just scrolling through Magicam on his bed. He looked up to see you, and his hair went a twinge pink at the tips.

You handed him his mug, telling him that it’s a bit hot, and he noticed that there were exactly six marshmallows in it as well as whipped cream and crushed candy cane.

“Ortho told me what you liked, as I had no idea,” You explained, taking a sip of your hot cocoa and letting the warm liquid flow down your throat. You sat in his chair at his desk as you kicked your feet up onto his bed, relishing in the quiet.

He, too, took a sip of his drink, and it was probably the best hot chocolate he had ever had. It filled him with warmth from the inside out.

A few moments of comfortable silence fell over you, save for a few reels that played through Idia’s phone. Eventually he grew bored and turned his phone off, kind of just staring off into space. You were in a very similar state, thoughts running through your mind.

“Do you ever wonder about the future?” He asked, out of nowhere. It was surprising to see him not stutter through a sentence, but you brought your mug down to ponder the question.

“What do you mean?”

“Everything. Do you believe that our future is predestined or do you think we choose? What do you want in your future? Stuff like that,” He responded.

“Well, if my future is predestined, I hope that I am destined to stick by your side. If I choose, then I choose to be with you. I want you,” You said, smiling into your [now empty] mug at how flustered he was getting.

“Y-Y/N! YOU CAN’T JUST SAY STUFF LIKE THAT AND NOT WARN ME!!!” He shouted, spilling his hot chocolate all over his bed.

That just made you start laughing even harder, making you happy that you had finished your drink as you doubled over. Maybe this holiday season won't be so bad… You both thought, after settling down, glad to be with one another in this trying time.

#twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst wonderland #idia shroud x reader #idia #twst idia #idia shroud #idia x reader #twst idia shroud x reader #twst idia x reader #twst idia shroud

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waitingonher · 1 year

Note

hi there!! congrats on 100 followers,, could you do prompt 17 for leo valdez? i love ur writing so so much you write characters just how i imagined them

EMMY'S 100 EVENT CELEBRATION

leo valdez + this reminded me of you.

content warning: nothing

authors note: HI THANK YOU SO SOSOSOSO MUCH!!! that really means a lot to me <33 thank youuu

your only regret about joining camp-half blood—besides the lethal quests issued every once in a while—are the monthly cabin check-ups. why chiron had to implement this incredibly useful, yet incredibly stupid system? you wish you knew. well, you do suppose it’s come in handy against your siblings who’d prefer to live in a complete pigsty. but other than that, it’s proven to become everyone’s least favorite day. a day full of cleaning, very irritable campers, and the overpowering scent of every detergent on the market isn’t exactly what someone would want to wake up to.

but here you are, unfortunately put on laundry duty. damn your terribly cruel siblings. they get assigned the fun things like sweeping, and dusting! well actually, those still aren’t very fun but it’s way, way better than doing laundry. the process of separating, washing, drying, and then folding isn’t your ideal way of spending your afternoon. but, the only benefit of laundry duty is that you’re basically completely alone, which also means no one’s there to pester you about your quality of work. yay to no one screaming in your ear about better sweeping techniques!

that’s why you find yourself half-assing the color sorting. you absentmindedly toss somebody’s light pink hoodie into the colored laundry basket. light pink and black? basically the same thing. but your focus comes back as you realize that you’re onto the last basket that requires sorting. you really have to fight yourself from doing a victory dance.

while your focus does come back, it doesn’t necessarily go back to the clothes though as you hear the door of the laundry room slam open. a sweaty, disheveled-looking boy enters, a grin plastered on his face that makes it seem as if he’s relieved to have found you. and he just so happens to be your boyfriend, “babe, i’m here to rescue you from laundry duty.”

“thank the gods,” you toss the sock in your hand into a random basket and make your way to leo. he chuckles at your carelessness before pulling you in for a kiss. you really needed that, “now tell me, how do you plan to rescue me from laundry duty?”

leo makes a face that tells you he hasn’t really thought that far, “um. well, i brought you temporary relief,” he responds, fishing something out of his jean pocket. and out comes a tiny red satin pouch.

“oh?” your head tilts out of curiosity, “did you find and steal something while cleaning?” the thought of leo doing something like that wasn’t totally out of the question. so that’s why you’re a little more confused when he simply shakes his head and offers you the bag in silence.

with the pouch in your hand, your boyfriend makes a motion for you to open it, “okay, i might’ve hyped it up a little too much,” leo gives you a sheepish smile as you pull out two absolutely adorable matching cat keychains, “but they reminded me of you, so i bought them. plus, i also thought they’d make a good gift of encouragement for today.”

“oh leo, these are so cute!” you put the cats side by side and you almost scream, once connected, they form a heart! all of a sudden your hatred for laundry duty and everything else bad in the world washes away. who knew two little cat keychains could have this effect on you? apparently leo did, “thank you so, so much babe,” you kiss him on the cheek, “i swear, as soon as i’m done here,” a smooch on the other cheek, “i’m putting my half on my bag,” finally, one for his lips.

leo’s features form a lopsided, lovesick smile, “wow. if i knew two little keychains would earn me this many kisses, then i would’ve just bought you two real cats,” he says, a teasing tone laced within his words.

you laugh at the idea of leo walking into the laundry room carrying two random cats. as much as you’d love to see that come to fruition, cat hair and clothes do not mix well. you pocket your keychain and hand the other to leo, “you should probably go, chiron would lose his shit if he saw you here with me.”

“wait, more kisses, then i’ll leave,” your boyfriend’s lips begin to turn comically downwards as his brows raise, and you realize what he’s doing: his stupid puppy dog eyes, “you can’t resist this can you?”

you quirk your brow, “oh, i can,” but the way he looks so incredibly dumb and desperate makes you give in, “fine. let’s make it quick.”

#[🍵] emmy's 100 event #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x y/n #leo valdez x you #leo valdez fanfic #leo valdez fluff #leo valdez imagine #leo valdez headcanons #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson fic #percy jackson fluff

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wambsgansshoelaces · 8 months

Note

heyy love, i love your fics so muchhh!! if ur requests are open, i was wondering if you could write this fun lil oneshot i thought of<3

(didn't really think much of the details but i imagined something like the episode with the pierce family, or u could change to what feels nice to u)

reader is like super hot/crazy attractive and the siblings are instantly interested. kendall and roman, being their idiot selves, start competing for her attention and trying to get her to accept going out etc. turns out, at the end of the day, shiv gets the girl, as she was the one reader wanted all along (gagged them)

Girls Get Girls

Siobhan Roy x fem!Reader

not gonna lie anon I feel like I didn’t do this too well so I’m so so sorry :( I still hope you enjoy even though I don’t really deliver x

btw I literally love you anon keep requesting

im so gay

Word Count: 2.893k

Mergers, acquisitions, stock, trade, liquidation. You couldn’t give a shit about any of it.

You’re not in the financial field at all, much to your parents’ disappointment. It’d brought you out of favor with them, brought your siblings closer to each other.

You usually don’t come to these things, but tonight it talk of selling the entire company. Leaving it all behind, cashing in the lotto, and fucking off. Your family had convinced you to come- despite your clear dislike for everything finance and business, you still hold stock and stake in the company. You were also going to get a pretty penny from your inheritance, so it would be wise to judge your potential buyer alongside your family.

You’re getting ready in your childhood bedroom, pacing the carpet as you put the finishing touches on your outfit. Your father had made it very clear: your job was to root out intention, then act accordingly. Regardless of whether you thought the Roys were worthy of the company or not is irrelevant at this moment. You need to be intimidating.

Intimidating, but also hot. Just for yourself.

A soft knock sounds at your door. “It’s me,” your cousin calls from the hall.

“Come in,” you call back.

She waltzes in, her blouse billowing behind her as she deposits herself on your bed. “Dad’s going to have an aneurysm.”

Even though you already know the answer, you ask, “Why?” You lean against your desk, facing her.

She snorts, knowing you’re trying to push her buttons. “He wants the company, dipshit. I still think all if this is to get on our nerves.”

“A chimp would do better as CEO than any of you,” you say, scoffing. What had started out as what you thought was joking was turning into something else.

“So why won’t you do it, then?” she asks, bitterly. “I don’t see why it has to be either you or someone out of the family entirely.”

“I’m not doing it because I don’t want to. My siblings also just… have no interest. We’re all off to bigger, better things.”

The two of you stare at each other until your father’s yelling draws you both from your trance.

“Up and at ’em,” he’s saying, pretty much to himself, once you’re downstairs. You brush imaginary dust from your sleeves as you make the awkward walk to the helipad. You and your brother share an exasperated look. Despite the fact that you’d been wedged apart over the years, you and your siblings share a lot of the same views and opinions.

“All this peacocking is fucking insane,” he mutters to you once you’re stopped a safe distance away from the pad.

“Just wait until you see them,” you mutter back.

Even though you weren’t involved in the business side of the company, you’d still been involved. You’d gone to dinners, conferences, galas. You were a bit of an outside source, as you held no real position in the company, but you knew you were vital.

At almost every event where someone with your last name was required to attend, there was also a Roy. You’d only ever seen them, never spoken to them

You hear the helicopter before you see it. Sunglasses perched on your nose, you look up. As it descends, your hair and jacket are blown vigorously back, and your hand goes to your scalp. The generated wind is aggressive, slicing over your skin, your clothing. The sound is now deafening, and you notice your sister clamping her hands over her ears. Your father gives her a look, something along the lines of don’t look weak, and your sister rolls her eyes in response, mouthing fuck you.

You have to suppress your smile. The helicopter’s landed, and people are starting to pile out.

“Logan, old friend,” your dad bellows jovially. While the two families had never met, never been close, you know your father and Logan Roy were actually the best of friends. You don’t know how they met. Your father spoke of Logan from as far back as undergrad university.

Your father steps forward, meeting Logan halfway as he leads the rest of his family towards yours. They envelope each other in a hug, and your brother snorts. He’s the only one who’s ever interacted with the Roys.

“It’s like he has a multiple personality disorder,” he’d told you the other day, talking about the enigma that was the head of the other family. “One second he’s laughing, then the minute Dad’s out the room, the guy’s raging over his kids or the people not doing enough work or whatever the fuck else is wrong with that stupid fucking company.”

He turns from your father to your mother, murmuring a warm greeting, then to the row of you, your sister, and your brother.

“Oh, look at the three of you! All grown and radiant,” he says heartily. So far, he doesn’t seem like the demon your younger brother had described him to be. But you know well enough that looks can be deceiving. He opens his arms out to you first, since you’re the eldest of the three. You give him an awkward hug, his hand clapping over your back in a friendly manner. “If only any of my children had the sense to get with you,” he mutters conspiratorially, earning a chuckle from you. He pats your shoulder, before moving on to your brother.

Logan’s wife is next. “Marcia,” she murmurs softly to you, taking you by the shoulders and air-kissing both your cheeks. You return the gesture as she does it, making sure to stay smiling. It’s all a flurry of names you’re sure you’re going to forget the second you need them. Connor, Gerri, Willa, Frank, Rhea. It’s really all just a bunch of letters bouncing around in your head.

Who you’re sure you will remember, though, are the siblings. The younger three. The important ones, your dad liked to call them.

As all of the ‘adults’ convened to chat amongst themselves, like they did when you were children, you and your sister are having a quiet conversation about your work. She’s in the middle of asking you to come out to her office to help you with something when you feel a hand settle on your shoulder. You turn, coming eye to eye with Kendall Roy.

“Hi,” he says carefully, small smile playing on his lips. “I don’t think we’ve met?”

“No, we haven’t,” you say back. “Y/N.” You offer him your hand to shake, like your father expects you to do with everyone.

“Kendall.”

“Yeah, I know,” you say awkwardly. He manages a laugh, withdrawing his hand, his eyes flitting over your face.

“I’m sorry it’s taken me this long, then, to, uh, put your name to your face.”

You’re not really sure what he means, but you don’t think you care that much.

“Move over, Kendall, you’re boring the shit out of her.” His brother comes over, bumping him with his hip. You have to stifle a laugh. “Roman.” You shake hands, offering him a polite smile. “He’s right, though. You’re a bit of a mystery to everyone.”

“Am I?” you ask, laughter seeping into your voice.

“Not to me.” Her voice is firm, clear. “I’m Shiv. I was at the conference you gave the Ethics presentation to. I know your work. My brothers are just stupid.”

You laugh for real this time. “Nice to meet you, Shiv. I’m familiar with your work, too. I’m just not so deep into the political sphere like you are.”

“I can help with that, you know,” she says, expression surprisingly soft. “I’ve been looking for someone that shares my opinions and… moral compass to work with. You need your rock, you know?”

The conglomerate of people slowly transitions inside. Roman and Kendall get roped into other conversations, your sister disappearing off to who knows where. You mill about in the dimly lit sitting room, watching everyone interact. Shiv’s still by your side.

“No offense, but I hate these things,” she says quietly, coming closer to you so you can hear.

You laugh lightly. “None taken.” You glance over at her to find that her eyes are already glued to you. You feel your face heat, her gaze flickering down your body before coming back up to your face. She has a sly smile on, but it’s quickly melting into one of real, soft emotion. You open your mouth to offer her something you’ll probably regret later, but are interrupted by your father clapping his hands together and waving everyone into the dining room. Instead, you give her an exasperated smile and follow the crowd.

Your father eyes you and your siblings as you all slip into your strategically chosen seats, making it so you’d all be surrounded by Roys. Your brother makes a face at you from the other side of the table. You ignore him, instead looking up at Shiv, who hovers by the chair at your left hand.

Almost shyly, she asks, “May I?”

“Please.”

A giddy smile spreads across her face as she sits, and you can’t help but mirror her expression. You look down into your plate, catching your sister’s gaze on you. Kendall takes the seat on your other side, Logan sitting directly across from you, right by your dad.

Roman and your brother are laughing over something as you get served the appetizer, your sister staring off into space while Connor talks at her rather than to her. Your mother speaks quietly with Marcia, and of course, your father and Logan are the loudest at the table, laughing and gesturing around.

Your cousin is on Kendall’s other side, overly-focused on her food. The conversation suddenly involves the entire table, Logan leaving forward. “What is it you do again, Y/N?”

You shrug lightly. “I work in media and risk analysis. Dabble a bit in economics.”

“So like Shiv?”

“Not really,” you and her say at the same time. You gesture with your fork, letting her continue.

“Our work certainly overlaps, and I’m glad it does,” she says, “but I’m more… political, she’s more… corporate.”

“If you dabbled in economics,” your cousin manages through gritted teeth, “we wouldn’t be here.”

“Neither would we if you did,” you retort calmly.

She scoffs. “I still don’t see why all of this is happening,” she says back, barely loud enough for everyone to hear. You look to your father, praying he’ll deal with it himself before she goes on some tirade, scaring off the buyer, but he makes no move. He simply glances at you, his gaze loaded.

Do it yourself.

You wait for a few moments, letting the tension strain the room. Maybe she’ll back off.

She doesn’t.

“The company is leaving family hands because of you, Y/N. It’s going to crash and burn because you refuse to fucking see what’s sitting in front of you.”

Logan’s lips press together into a thin line, and you know you have to recover. “I don’t want the company. Neither of my siblings want it. Don’t you think it’s a little telling you’re the only one lusting after it so loudly?”

“I don’t see what that has to say about me.”

“You want it, and you’re not getting it,” you say firmly. “You’re incompetent. The Roy name is not.”

Dinner is only silent for so much longer. Your brother, at his breaking point, asks loudly, “Why are you even here? You blew the Pierce deal. Fuck off.” Your father hisses something into your brother’s ear. He scoffs in response. “I’m sick of it, Dad. The three of us bust our asses to get this to go well for you and she gets to waltz in, do whatever the fuck she wants whenever the fuck she wants.” He quickly pushes back his chair from the table and makes his way out of the dining room.

Clearly, this is deeper than one stupid comment made at the dinner table. You throw a questioning glance at your sister. She gives a minute shake of her head. She doesn’t know.

Dramatically, your cousin follows your brother out. Roman is trying not to laugh, and all of a sudden, your father and Logan aren’t in the mood they were before.

You turn to Shiv, exasperated. She’s also stuffing a laugh down, and it’s contagious. “Is my juvenile family drama amusing to you?” you murmur to her questioningly, the soft clink of silverware and terse chatter filling the room.

“Yeah,” she says, nearly choking on a laugh. “This is so fucking stupid. How do you deal with it?”

“I never stay home.” You down the rest of the water in your glass.

“Hey, uh, Y/N,” Kendall begins, leaning towards you as you turn to face him. “I just wanted to say, I get how it feels.” He gestures vaguely around. “So if you want to, um, get some air after, I’d love to join you.”

You thank him sincerely, giving him a soft smile. Dessert finally comes out. You’re almost there. You turn back to Shiv, but she’s conversing with whoever’s on her other side, to your disappointment. You eat your cheesecake in silence, Roman catching your eye and giving you a wink. You didn’t know people actually did that, but he pulled it off nicely, you think.

When your father finally gets up, ushering everyone into the sitting room for drinks and chatter, you heave a sigh of relief. You trail behind the crowd, hoping to be able to slip away on your own.

You succeed. You sigh up at the high vaulted ceiling, padding towards the grand staircase up to your room.

“Hey, where’re you going?” comes a soft voice. You turn, Shiv, hurrying after you.

“Escaping,” you say jokingly, pausing on the stairs, letting her catch up to you.

“Can I come?”

“Yeah. You can.”

The sight of her sitting cross-legged on your bed does something to you. It sucks all the air from your body. But maybe that was just the sight of her.

"Your brother okay?" she asks, looking up at you.

"He'll be fine. Everyone's just a bit tense."

"Just so you know, your cousin's temper tantrum doesn't change anything."

"I'd hope it didn't."

"What would change things though," she tells you, "is whether you want to come on once we buy the company."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. I was serious when I was talking about how I need someone in my corner."

"What do you mean?"

"It's me. The company gets handed to me."

"Congratulations, Shiv. But really, I want nothing to do with it."

"I'd be running things. You'd just be my right hand woman. The very attractive right hand woman that I see every day."

You laugh, unable to suppress the grin splitting your face.

“My cousin’ll murder me,” you manage to say.

“So? Let her try. Not like you’ll go down or anything.” She smiles up at you. “I think that’s hot. You’re hot.”

Silence stretches between the two of you, both of you grinning at each other.

“You’re really pretty,” you breathe, believing she followed you for a reason.

“I’m glad you think so.” Her hands come to cup your jaw in the few instances it takes you to cross the room, slide onto your bed, and kiss her. “God, you’re so… so fucking gorgeous.”

“Yeah?” you ask against her lips, peppering gentle kisses onto them. “Stay the night.”

“I told everyone I went home,” she says, giggling.

Your hand flits to her hip, rubbing soothingly. Your kisses are slow, tender. You’re both enjoying yourselves. It feels so real. It feels like something more.

You slide off of her, off the bed, eliciting a whine from her pretty mouth. “Just locking the door, baby.”

You wake up, head buried in her chest. She’d borrowed some pajamas of yours, the shirt a soft cotton. Her breathing is light and airy, and it’s music to your ears. Her fingers are threaded in the hair at your scalp, her arm thrown over your back.

You drift in and out of consciousness until she wakes up, pressing kisses along your forehead. Shiv sits up, letting you stay settled in her lap. You press a hot kiss to her bare thigh, shorts hiked up her legs.

“You know,” she says, after a short while of silence, “Ken and Roman were drooling over you all night.”

You snort. “Were they?”

“I know them. They were. And here I am,” she says, satisfied with herself.

You let out an airy laugh. “Here you are.”

“I was drooling, too,” she admits.

“Can we stop talking about saliva?”

She pinches your ass, to which you don’t dignify with a reaction, instead smiling into her thigh. “I wanna keep seeing you.”

“I have to fly out to Italy for some work. Maybe I want you to come with me.”

“God, I love women.” Her hand cards through your hair. “Mind if I take a picture? I want to send it to my brothers.”

“Perv,” you mutter, but nod anyway. You smile at the camera from her thigh, pressing a searing kiss to the place where her leg meets her hip the moment she hits the button.

It captures her beautiful face in an ecstatic smile, yours in soft affection as you look up at her, not the camera.

#shiv roy #siobhan roy #shiv roy x you #shiv roy x reader #shiv roy x fem!reader #succession #succession hbo #succession fic #wambsgansshoelaces #succession x reader #anon ask #shiv roy oneshot #shiv roy fluff

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dresshistorynerd · 1 year

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How to see through the greenwashing propaganda of the fashion industry - 1

For some background info I made an overview about the impact of fashion industry.

In the light of the Shein brand trip nonsense, I was thinking about how literally every clothing company now engages in greenwashing, even when it's such obvious lie like with Shein. And while most people are not fooled in such blatant cases like that, most cases are not as blatant. To see through the less obvious propaganda often needs a lot of knowledge of the clothing industry, which the average person doesn't have, yet the average person still needs clothing. So instead of trying to expose every company for their bad practices, I thought it might be more helpful to make a post on how to detect greenwashing. I'm going to use four examples, all in the different levels of honesty and responsibility, Shein, H&M, Burberry and Tentree. First I will go into frankly unnecessary amount of detail on Shein, because I fell into a horrifyingly fascinating research rabbit hole and I think it's excellent example on how companies can get away with blatant crimes (allegedly of course). In this first part we will just look into Shien, it's propaganda and reality behind it.

But before I go deeper into this, I want to stress one thing: this is not to say that you can never buy from any brand engaging in dishonest greenwashing, because then you couldn't buy almost any clothing, and you do need clothing. Though I will say, please don't buy from Shein if you in any way can afford not to. There is levels of how bad business practices can be, and they can't be much worse than Shein's, and even beside that, even when super cheep, it's not worth your money. There are other cheep options too. Though I won't hold it against anyone if they buy individual pieces from Shein from time to time, but I would implore at least to considerate, if they really need it and if it might be possible to get something similar from somewhere else. But my point in this is not necessarily to help you make better consumer decisions, because consumption will not save us, but to see through the corporate propaganda and not become complaisant after hearing comforting lies. The corporations are doing everything they can to make you believe they are already fixing the problems within the industry and there's no need for government intervention pinky promise, just keep consuming. But that's all bullshit and government intervention is exactly what is needed.

Before taking a look at our cases, I'll outline the key things I think are good to look for, when presented with sustainability PR.

TRANSPARENCY - Companies are not required to publish much of the information about their practices, but as it has become clear to everyone that the whole fashion industry is a massive problem, opacity has become rightly seen as suspicious. It has become also a sort of marketing method to disclose any evidence of good practices, so when a company is not doing that, and missing out on well working marketing, it raises the question, what are they hiding. Companies may try to give the appearance of transparency, without actually disclosing information. They might write in an easily accessible page about all their lofty goals, promises and achievements in a very vague language, they might talk about being transparent and publishing their data, but that data might be buried somewhere, where it's not easily accessible. Good sign on the other hand would be for example providing supply chain information for a product in the product description.

RELIABLE INFORMATION - Usually it's safer for a company to be vague or silent than to lie, because that might lead to legal consequences, but by cherry-picking and subtly twisting data, it can be turned to be flattering for them. Small companies might provide raw evidence of their facilities and supply chain, like photos, locations, contractor names etc. to give proof for their word. For bigger companies this is not of course possible as their supply chains might be massive and they might have thousands of facilities. However, there are many different independent and governmental organizations that give different kinds of certifications. The certifications are meant to give some reassurance of quality and/or accurate information. However not all certifications are made equal. Most reliable certifications don't have ties to the industry (aka are actually independent, not just in name), have governmental oversight and are given access to the data, from which they do the research themselves.

SUPPLY CHAIN - Giving the origin country of the final product is nowadays standard information to give, as it's required by law for example in EU. It's a red flag, if it's produced in a country, that has lacking environmental or labour laws, poor oversight and/or little protections for people. However, this does not mean that all production in those countries is unethical or questionable, but the risk for that is higher and the need for evidence of the working conditions is also higher. This is however just one part of the production. Before clothing can be sewn, the raw material for fiber must be made/acquired, that material must be turned into fiber, which must be turned into yarn and then the yarn must be woven into fabric. All of these steps in the process need workers, who deserve good working conditions. And depending on what fabric is in question, there's potential for major environmental issues in the different processes. This is why it's important to know more than just the country where the clothing was sewn. There could be certification for ethical sourcing of the fabric for example. With supply chain it's also better if the materials are sourced as locally as possible, to avoid a lot of extra carbon emissions from transportation. Best case scenario would be if the company manages the supply chain themselves locally, so they can know for sure where their materials come from and also avoid middlemen.

BUSINESS MODEL - The reason why it's often so hard to get information on the supply chain is that many companies, especially the large ones, outsource as much as possible. This might seem unintuitive, as the middlemen make production less efficient and costly as everyone takes a cut. However, they do it to outsource risks and responsibility. They don't have to invest into factories or raw material production and they have plausible deniability, if and when there's issues in their supply chain. The complexity of the supply chain provides opacity that is impossible and unreasonable to monitor, which allows the company to buy materials that are unreasonably cheep, while feigning ignorance of worker exploitation. How much the clothing cost can also give some idea on their business model. If it's super cheep, the only way for it to be that cheep is if workers are not payed enough and everything is poorly made. Cheep is always a red flag, though, if it's fairly cheep and I mean basic clothing is not much more than 100 eur (little more in USDs) but not much less than 50 eur, it can be okay or even good quality and with proper pay for workers, if the company doesn't take massive margins and don't have a ton of middlemen in their supply chain. However, expensive is not insurance of quality or good pay for workers. Many expensive brands take massive margins while their production has little difference to fast fashion and their products are poor quality.

CASE STUDY 1: SHEIN

Let's start with the propaganda. In Shein's About Us page, they say:

"SHEIN is a global fashion and lifestyle e-retailer committed to making the beauty of fashion accessible to all."

You see, their goal is to make fashion accessible to everyone, not just privileged few. They back this up by informing how they work in 150 countries, have very wide variety of clothing, are one of the most popular shopping apps, connect with the customers on where they are - social media - and, of course, have ridiculously low prices. Their team of nearly 10,000 employees (of which 58% are women for your information) loves to serve their many many customers, who are most important for Shein. They use "cutting-edge technology" and digitized agile supply chain to track sales and demand and adjust their manufacturing in real time. When they notice a new trend, they immediately put something trendy on sale, make prototypes and order small batches from factories. This is how they keep their inventory waste low and get products quickly to their customers. In their own words:

"By developing proprietary logistics and ecommerce technology, we are disrupting the fashion space and improving outcomes for manufacturers, suppliers and consumers."

We will see, if the "outcomes" are really "improved".

Shein group's website has very extensive information about their sustainability goals and efforts, giving the impression of transparency. It's pretty clear this is in an effort to combat all the allegations towards them. To make their business sustainable in addition to their reduced inventory waste they are "accelerating their transition" to use recycled polyester, promoting their "peer-to-peer resale platform" for Shein products, "eshtablishing" a recycling program for end-of-life products, tracing the material supply chain through their own material tracking platform and conserving forests by replacing viscose with "next generation fibers".

Most of the information they provide is fully meaningless corporate speak and should be taken with the biggest bucket of salt, so let's ask some questions.

DO THEY PROVIDE SPECIFIC DATA ABOUT THEIR PRODUCTION? Surprisingly Shein is much more transparent than I expected. (Though of course the info is in different website than where the average consumer would go.) Shein hasn't taken the standard route, which is to provide as little information as possible, and keeping it vague too, se they could just keep feigning ignorance. As I said, I think it's pretty clear they are providing this much information because their reputation is so bad. Their lack of transparency has been taken as an admission of guilt, so it's not working anymore, and they have taken a new approach into maintaining their plausible deniability. In their website, they provide a sustainability report from years 2021 and 2022. I took a look at the latest one. In it there's a lot of fluff, but they show actual numbers of how many code of conduct violations have been found in audits to supplier facilities, the carbon emissions of their supply chain and the amounts of different fabrics they have used during 2022. That's not nothing, so we have a relatively good start here.

WHO DID THE RESEARCH? The research is not at all independent, but done in-house. They have all the financial incentives to cherry-pick and frame their research in a way that shows them in the best possible light, even if we assumed they would not tamper with their own evidence, which I don't think we can fully assume either. There's an attempt though to convince us to believe the data they are showing:

"We have reported with reference to the Global Reporting Initiative (GRI) 2021 standard for certain sections of this report. Selected information in this report was assured, to the limited assurance standard, by an external independent assurer as per ISAE 3000."

Emphasis by me. So even if they did the research themselves, they did get it independently audited to get an assurance that they did follow the GRI standards in their reporting and that it doesn't contain lies. However, the "certain sections" and "selected information" with "limited assurance" does not give me much assurance, in fact, my assurance is very limited. To understand what does this actually mean, I did a bit of googling and delved into the annex of the report.

ISAE 3000 is a standard for auditing financial information issued by International Auditing and Assurance Standards Board, which an independent body that has governmental oversight. Financial information can get either reasonable assurance or limited assurance. Reasonable assurance is the most assurance this standard allows. Limited assurance is given, if the information provided to the assurer, time or extent of the procedure is lacking, but from those limited resources the assurer doesn't find anything that suggests "the subject matter information is materially misstated" aka that the company is lying. GRI is the most used reporting standard for sustainability for businesses and other organizations. I'm a bit suspicious of how effective their standards are, if they are most widely used, since most companies are absolutely terrible about sustainability yet they all claim they are great with it. So I decided to check who is in the board. Unsurprisingly it's mostly representatives of massive corporations, including Coca Cola and DuPond, a professor of accounting, national research director of Australia's Mining and Energy Union and one (1) environmental scientist.

The annex revealed quite interesting details. The only information that was AssuredTM (in a limited manner) for accurate information was the data on Shein's emissions and that of code of conduct violations. Only the report on emissions was AssuredTM (in a limited manner) to follow GRI standards. Shein got to select and prepare the relevant data for the audition, which was according to it, lacking. Crucially the audition report states that they didn't verify the results of supply audits or any potential violations of labor law found in them, rather they just checked that the math on the grading of the audits matched with Shein's stated criteria and that they actually did the audits. So if you really think about it, the (limited) assurance is that they graded themselves like they promised they would, not that their reporting of the amounts of violated labor laws or even just their own code of conduct was accurate. Additionally assurance of the accuracy of the emissions was only of Shein's own facilities, which do not produce any of their products, but not of their supply chain. 99,7% of their emissions come from their supply chain. So keep all this in mind when we look at the data itself.

WHAT ARE THEIR CARBON EMISSIONS AND HOW ARE THEY CALCULATED? Shein's emissions were 9,17 million tonnes of CO2, or 9,22 million tonnes if we don't count them purchasing Renewable Energy Credits. To put it into perspective that would be around 0,27-0,3% of the estimation of the annual emissions of the whole textile industry. Now that would be pretty low. In fact, suspiciously low. The fact that they got their own emissions auditioned, but not the emissions of their supply chain, suggests to me that perhaps, their numbers don't hold up to scrutiny. They also don't disclose their methodology for the numbers of the supply chain, like they do with their own facilities. Of course their response would be to say it's so much easier for them to calculate their own emissions than their suppliers. But I say that's not a bug, that's a feature.

Though looking at the methodology of the emissions from their own operating sites, which includes warehouses and offices, they don't take into account at all any emissions from building anything. They grew massively between 2021 and 2022 and I find it hard to believe they didn't built any of the new offices or warehouses they gained. Certainly they would have bought a lot of new equipment even if they moved to existing buildings. But none of this is taken into account in their calculations. And I must assume, it's not taken into account in their supply chain calculations either.

Even if we took them at their word, by their own admission, their carbon emissions have grown from 2021 to 2022 52%, which is alarming. (Interestingly they use the 2021 numbers in their actual website, which I think is so misleading that it's basically a lie.) They write it off as just side effect of their massive growth in production volume, which had 57% increase during the same time frame.

"We are at the beginning of our mitigation journey and began implementing decarbonization programs at the end of fiscal year 2022."

So they first scale their business as fast as they can, having absolutely no care of the environmental effect, so that when they have massive market share, and they reduce their massive emissions slightly, they can be like "oh look we did something!" They can then moan and wail how hard and time consuming it is to reduce the emissions of an existing supply chain, when they were the ones who decided to not take that into account from the start. Their "science based goal" (which they repeatedly stress in their website) is to reduce their emissions 25% by 2030. It's nothing. Less than nothing. They scaled without care their production in a time, when our ecology is collapsing, and then they claim that it's just science we possibly can't do anything about it. Apparently it's a natural law that they just have to make more and more money, like gravity.

WHAT MATERIALS DO THEY USE? Last year 64% of Shein's clothing (measured in weight) was polyester. Production of polyester is estimated to count for 40% of all carbon emissions of the textile industry. It's also a plastic made out of oil, so we have to take into account the fracking and refinement of oil and the eventual release of the CO2 from the oil that would have been secured in the ground otherwise. This most certainly is not counted into the supply chain emissions. Shein loves to pay lip service to the idea of circular economy, but they don't actually think about it. Because if they did, they would have taken into account the microplastics polyester fabric sheds when it's washed. When microplastics get into the soil and freshwater, they get into the organs of animals, including us, and they don't easily come off. Already it has been shown that they have led to the decrease of small soil fauna, which are very important for the fertility of the soil. Over time microplastics also break down further into nanoplastics. There's already evidence of nanoplastics being small enough to pass through veins into the brain, and that causing behavioral changes in fish. We don't know the long term consequences off this micro and nano plastic pollution yet, and we're just seeing the effects they have on small animals, but as they built up over years and decades inside our organs, we well likely see much larger effects.

Important for the lifecycle thinking is not just focusing on how much burden the production puts on the environment, but also how long it lasts and how can it be reused and eventually the impact of the end of it's lifecycle. If you remember from the beginning, Shein claims to take all this into account by having a resale program, somewhere in the future establishing a recycling program for unusable old clothes and increasing their share of recycled polyester. This is nothing. Again it's less than nothing. Polyester is not only bad fabric because of the things I've already said, but it's also just as a material for clothing very weak. It's not warm or breathable, which makes it at the same time sweaty and cold. It has no anti-bacterial qualities at all (which basically all natural fabrics have at least to small extent), so when you get easily sweaty in it, it starts also smelling very easily, and so needs washing very often. On top of washing releasing microplastics, it also weakens the fabric, because polyester doesn't get stronger when wet unlike plant fibers, like cotton and linen. Other synthetic fibers even get weaker when wet. Polyester is also very hard to dye effectively and has bad color retaining properties, so it needs chemical treatments and strong industrial dyes, all of which adds to it's carbon footprint and toxic pollution. Bad color retaining properties though also mean it looses it's color quite easily when washed. All of this makes it's life span significantly shorter than natural fabrics. I mean with some natural fabrics like wool and silk we are talking about multiple decades, with polyester it's easily in the low one digit years. These are inherent issues with polyester, but Shein clothes have repeatedly got complaints of their poor quality in general. This makes the resale program frankly meaningless.

On the surface the recycling program for polyester sounds good, right? You don't have to use more oil and use as much energy in making of it (according to Shein themselves, which again not a trustworthy source, it saves up to 70% emissions). Shein has promised to increase their share of recycled polyester to 31% of their polyester usage by 2030. Currently less than 1% of their production is recycled polyester. This is however a terrible solution. It still sheds microplastics and it's even worse as a fabric than virgin polyester. It is weaker and stiffer, making it impossible to use on it's own in fabric but when mixed with other fibers in a fabric significantly shortens it's life span. When we take into account the lifecycle of a clothing, the length of it and it's lifetime emissions become much more important than the production emissions. If you have to produce from scratch new clothing three times, in the time you could be using another clothing, it doesn't really matter if the emissions during the production were somewhat lower. (There's little reliable and comparable data available on production emissions of different fabrics, so I don't know how exactly recycled polyester compares to different natural fabrics.) Especially when we take into account the consumer use emissions, which in the case of polyester are 30% of it's lifetime emissions. And wast majority of it comes from washing, which you have to do more with polyester (how much more depends on what fabric you compere it to). Any responsible disposal of polyester at the end of it's lifecycle, especially any attempts at recycling it, cause additional emissions, unlike with natural fibers, which naturally degrade.

WHERE ARE THE SUPPLIERS? Shein boasts having fully integrated digital supply chain and with it they can track the whole supply chain of individual product. However they don't reveal any of that information publicly. Or rather only thing we know is that their factories making the end products are in China. But the question is, where does their fabrics come from? There's no countries listed in their report in any capacity and none of their products have any information of their origins nor the origins of the fabrics. This is very suspicious in my opinion. We can get no indication on how fibers might have been produced and made into fabric from the labor and environmental laws and practices of different countries. However, there is an interesting bit in the report about cotton:

"For cotton products, to further enhance our compliance with US laws, we request that our manufacturing suppliers only source cotton from Australia, Brazil, India, the United States and other approved regions."

This sentence is there pretty obviously because they have been caught selling clothing with cotton grown in Xinjiang in US markets, which US has banned. This is because Xinjiang, the Autonomous Uighur region, where 90% of China's raw cotton is grown, has been accused of genocidal oppression of the Uighur population, including having massive forced labour camps for Uighurs. Because of the police state nature of Xinjiang, there's no reliable numbers on how much of the cotton is produced with forced labour, but presumably most of it. Moreover, China limits the imports of cotton, which is why only 20% of cotton used by the textile industry in China is imported. Shein claims they know exactly where their fabrics come from, but the wording of the sentence above makes it clear they don't even plan on enforcing any policy to use imported cotton by their suppliers. Cotton is just 10% of fabric they used last year, but given their massive production volume, it's still a lot. This gets us to our next question.

IS THERE PROOF OF GOOD WORKING CONDITIONS? Shein reports doing in total 2 812 audits into 1 941 of their 5 400 contract manufacturers. According to them it accounted for 84% of their Shein branded products (so not their other 10 brands). This information, if you remember, was given limited assurance, by the audition into their numbers. However, we are to trust Shein alone that the reports of their auditions are accurate. I'm not really willing to trust them, but let's sustain our disbelief for a moment to look at their findings. From their report:

"A: 90 points and above: minor flaws. Continued improvement is advised. B: 75 to 90 points: some general risks. Continued improvement is advised. C: 60 to 75 points: 1-3 major risks. Corrective action is required. D: below 60 points: >3 major risks. Corrective action is required. ZTV: Zero Tolerance Violation detetected. Immediate corrective action is required."

Even without knowing what do these things mean in practice, I don't think this paints a pretty picture. Only 4% of their manufacturing facilities had minor flaws and 82% of their facilities have major risks or worse? Does that mean none of their manufacturers fully comply with their Code of Conduct? They try to make it sound like it looks this bad because they have tightened their criteria and still the numbers are better than last year, but even with all of that, this is imo unacceptable. But it gets worse.

The report shows the amount of each ZTV found in the audits. This was explicitly not assured in any way by an independent party, so considering this information is given despite the lack of oversight and the interests of Shein, it's grim. Most of the 11% of ZTVs were gross safety violations. For example 4,2% of the audits, which means 118 facilities, found lacking emergency exits. However, they also found child labour in 6 facilities and forced labour in 3 facilities. So according to their own reporting, their manufacturers have used child labour and forced labour. And just to remind you, this is covering just 36% of their contract manufacturers. What I found interesting (read disturbing), was that violence or sexual misconduct against workers were not among Zero Tolerance Violations. I know it's not a situation, where they don't consider it violation of Code of Conduct, but rather just calls the police and let them handle it, because the violations counted here are based on their CoC, in which there's an item 7 named "No harassment or abuse of employees", which explicitly forbids physical, sexual, mental and verbal abuse. They don't however breakdown the make up of the non-ZTV violations that have occured, nor do their reveal how are they graded the ratings, so there's really no way to know what the 71% of their manufacturers have done to warrant their low (C or D) grading.

Would you at this point be surprised, if I told you it gets worse? Yeah, their so called Zero Tolerance Violations are not very zero tolerance after all. You might think zero tolerance means, that if manufacturers are caught doing it, their contract is immediately terminated and they are reported to authorities? Well, let's look what is the "immediate corrective action" outlined in their Responsible Sourcing Policy. Among the ZTVs they define even more zero tolerance violations, let's say negative tolerance violations. These are 1. forging documents, bribery or refusing to get assessed 2. child labour and 3. forced labour. Surely these lead to immediate contract termination and reporting to authorities?

So if Shein encounters slavery or probable coverup of it in their facilities, they stop placing new orders until the enslaved people and children are taken somewhere else or otherwise their contracts are fixed (at least for now), so there's no more slavery in sight, when someone comes back to assess them again and decides it's all good to continue business as usual. They have 30 days to make everything look like there's no issues, which sounds pretty easy task, and after that they can grab the kids and the slaves back there like nothing happened. Also notice how they didn't say they demand stopping the work entirely in the facility, just that they'll stop placing orders? Yeah, they don't stop production even if they find literal children or enslaved people producing them. Gotta get those dresses to the customer.

If they find any other ZTV, they come back in 30 days, and if the violation continues, they give a warning, come back again in 30 days, and if still the issue is there, then they stop placing orders. After that it continues like with child or forced labour violations. If after another 30 days it's not fixed, the contract is terminated. If a supplier gets two ZTVs within two years, they go straight to the even less than zero tolerance model straight away. If they get three ZTVs in two years, then their contract is immediately terminated. Nothing different happens though, if you get caught doing child or forced labour two times in two years, so you can just get caught once a year as long as you always pretend to stop doing it. But even if you do get caught third time in two years, or fail to pretend you fixed it, it's fine, you'll just have to do other stuff for the next year, and then you can apply again to work with Shien. Also the policy does not at any point require reporting these alleged crimes to authorities. If they at some point stop placing orders for a supplier (for example because of child or forced labour), they have to just sent all the files and documents of the goods that are produced by that supplier during the time they aren't giving them new orders to the relevant tax and customs authorities.

To answer the question I started this section with, sounds like Shein provides more evidence of bad working conditions in their suppliers' facilities, than they provide evidence of good working conditions. They even give evidence that their monitoring of those conditions is just a joke, and they have no mechanisms to actually get rid of suppliers who have inhumane working conditions. Elsewhere they try to give very weak evidence of good working conditions. The influencer brand trip to their facility in China was a PR stunt like that. However, it's easily dismissable, as the facility was not at one of the factories, where their clothing is made, all of which are third parties, but Shien's own facility they call Innovation Center. There they innovate new technologies, train their suppliers to use their new technologies and consult their suppliers on how to make new factories, which I assume means they have factory templates to give to their suppliers.

However, independent sources give much more reliable evidence of terrible working conditions in their factories. Like when undercover operation into one of their factories found employees working 18 hours a day earning 2 cents per item. When asked for comment, they answered: "Any non-compliance with this code is dealt with swiftly, and we will terminate partnerships that do not meet our standards." This is not severe ZTV, so what they mean by "dealt with swiftly" is "told to stop breaking labour laws, given some time, given warning, given more time, stopped giving new orders, given even more time and if after three months they have not stop then they gotta go". Because yes, they do terminate those who don't meet their standards. Their standards are just in the gutter.

HOW IS THE COMPANY STRUCTURED? While falling down this rabbit hole I came to the realization that Shein is the Uber of fashion. It's just the gig economy all over again. Let me explain. Unlike traditional fashion companies, Shein has outsourced even the sewing of the clothing. Shein itself is an app company, like Uber, though they technically do design their own clothes. I say technically because they have been repeatedly accused of copyright infringement to the point where they are now sued for racketeering. Allegation from the lawsuit:

"Shein has grown rich by committing individual infringements over and over again, as part of a long and continuous pattern of racketeering, which shows no sign of abating."

It relates to the other reason why I say their only technically design too, because a huge amount of their designs are also outsourced. In their sustainability report, they boast about how their SHEIN X program is meant to "empower" young designers to get their business off the ground, by taking their designs and using them for their clothing productions. This sounds a lot like SHEIN X designers are gig workers. They are basically just designers for Shein, but oh no they are not workers, labour laws won't apply! Shein specifically targets young designers, even students, so it's clear that they really just want impressionable people desperate for money and work experience. Obviously they won't get much money for their designs, since there's such a massive flood of products and designers, Shein says they have 3 000 designers in SHEIN X, and the products are so, so cheep. It's the exact same thing as with Uber and the like, they put their "workers" into competition with each other. To tie it back to the lawsuit, they use these third party designers as fodder against accusations of copyright infringement. They did not steal the design from the independent artist, they are just the platform provider.

This is also exactly how they operate with their factories. When their massive production is spread across all the 5 400 small separate suppliers, they are forced to compete for scraps. They can't organize together to demand better pay or better working conditions, and Shein can act like they have no part in them. Moreover, due to their extremely low prices, Shein has to offer only really low rates for the production of their clothing. On top of that because of the contractor structure, the actual fanctory owners taken an extra cut from those low rates, leaving extremely little for the actual workers. The prices are so low, they demand inhumane working conditions. It's impossible to sell clothing in the prices Shein does and pay well for the workers, especially with their business structure. All the talk about technological innovation is also bullshit, because this gig economy competition model ensures that most of the gig workers (in this case factories) will stay poor, so they can hardly invest in the new technologies.

This model is also what Shein holds as their most significant sustainability claim, because it allows them to cut most inventory waste. Traditional fashion companies always have a significant overhead, because their supply must always be higher than demand, otherwise, they would loose customers to their competitors. Because Shein orders small batches from large amount of factories, they can change their production in real time, adjusting to the demand much quicker than any competitor. Yes, it means they have minimal inventory loss, but it's not actually efficient. Or rather not efficient in any other way than for maximizing profits. There is a massive amount of overlap of facilities, machinery, organization structures and bureaucracy, if we look at Shein's whole production, because the small factories are all producing same things, but because Shein drives them to compete with each other, they don't have to pay for that overlap. More than that, it's extremely inefficient way to maximize people getting clothed while minimizing materials. And I don't mean producing as much clothes as possible while minimizing materials, because that is what they are doing, but the goal shouldn't be as much clothes as possible, but maximizing everyone having enough clothing, which is much less that what we produce today. And if clothing was made to last instead of making as many of them as possible, even less could be made and still everyone would have enough clothes.

Shein's extremely quick rise to the top of fashion markets was due to how effectively they managed to use the pandemic for their advantage. During the lock-downs around the world, people spend increasingly more time on their phones and social media, which Shein managed turn into their profit. They utilize social media and influencers effectively for marketing. Their platform also uses many of the same psychological tricks social media uses to keep customers scrolling and consuming. This is on itself is not at all new, but because of their business model, they turned attention into sales and sales into more attention. All that combined with their ability to response in real time to new trends and scale production extremely quickly, turned any new trend in social media into hype and micro-fashion cycles, which they would burn through increasingly fast. Their competitors wouldn't even have the time to get into that trend before it would be replaced with a new trend. Then all they needed to do was to contract new small factories, they didn't even have to spend time and money to built them, and they could take over the fast fashion market.

Shein's effect won't stop there though. Their competitors will and are already starting to adapt their methods. It means quality of clothing will keep getting worse, the whole industry will keep increasing their carbon emissions and the working conditions from cotton farmers to designers will get worse as gig economy spreads in the industry. I'll talk more about this in the conclusions of the second part, but to fix this, there needs to be government intervention. It's good that there's a lawsuit over their wider practices, not just a singular act, but it won't be enough. If they don't face significant consequences, every other company will take note that they can profit off of (allegedly) systematic crimes.

IN CONCLUSION Shein as a company is a glorified optimization algorithm which only real function is to drive up consumption and in exchange take all the profits from everyone else's labour. They use the modern classic Uber model to take the neoliberal principle of outsourcing risks and responsibilities to it's logical conclusion. Their extremely exploitative business model only works if their designers and factories and other gig workers break laws. They do the absolute bare minimum to comply with law and (allegedly) not even that when they believe they can get away with it by blaming others, which is fucking bad indictment of those laws, since my god they are terrible. Their greenwashing propaganda is honestly laughable, it's a joke and they must know it. It feels more like gaslighting than propaganda.

#this is not exactly what i usually write about but one of the reasons i care about historical fashion is because i care about sustainability #fashion #sustainable fashion #environment #climate crisis #shein #fashion industry #shein clothes #fast fashion #slavery mentioned #genocide mentioned

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velvetures · 7 months

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AU Continuation: Perimeter Security

a.n.: Thank you to everyone who left comments, and gave this love! I hope to write more! This is thanks to @3dumbass and their suggestions.

summary: living with the 141 has its perks, and built-in security is one of them. it’s just not always easy for them to determine who’s actually a threat.

AU: The 141 are at risk due to personal files being compromised. They’re laying low at a low-risk location until further notice.

tags?: Simon x 3rd person coded relationship, strangers, tension, well-meaning anger, protectiveness, misunderstanding.

Snow made everything on the ridge lines slow down. Thick, icy, blankets camouflaged roads and halted the daily movement of simple life. The mail didn’t run, and neither did the school busses in town. It was as if the whole mountain slept in for weeks at a time when this kind of weather trudged in over the skyline. Freezing water pipes -if you didn’t know to turn the tap on a little- and draining the battery in your vehicle leaving you stranded for days at a time. It’s what made a wood-burning stove a lifesaver and why the ornate Art Garland sitting in the living room more of a necessity than a gilded cast-iron luxury from 1898.

But getting firewood was a whole different experience… especially when the task force took up residence and experience their first winter with Price and Laswell’s goddaughter.

She did well to provide for herself. Not just well, really, better than that. Everything she could manage alone was done without any assistance, and she never complained about much. They all assumed it came from living in such a remote place. That she couldn’t rely on anyone and never got spoiled to living easily. What she couldn’t -or simply didn’t- want to manage, the locals down in town helped with by beaters, trades, or well-kept favors that just kept being passed back and forth.

Just another one of those slowed-down things that made a whole lot of sense in her life, but set the 141’s teeth on edge.

They could rely on each other and do just fine most of the time. But individually and as a squad, it made all of them feel inadequate beyond comprehension asking for or requiring help. And like with her was just one of the stinging wounds they couldn’t quite heal up. Seeing her trade strawberries for corn or a rough-sewn quilt for a hand-made kitchen knife was dignified enough… they just didn’t understand fully how deep the lifestyle ran.

Ghost’s encounter with “Bear” put that much more tension on the dynamic.

***

She’d been inside bent over a pot of soup for nearly the whole morning. Steam curling over her reddened cheeks and sucking up through the range hood when the faint sound of a truck came spinning up the steep snow-covered driveway. A flatbed with a steel-cage welded to the bed and stacks of wood covered with a blue tarp in the back with fraying bungee cords. A familiar sight for her since the man driving always brought her firewood when the weather got too cold to go and do it herself. Or when she’d been regrettably lazy… and didn’t feel like it either.

Barrett “Bear” Stephens. A real outdoorsman and not more than a couple years older than her. Most people around town thought he was a real prick since he didn’t talk much and kept to himself out on West Run Ridge. But she liked him well enough. Trusted him to let him in her house for dinner as thanks for keeping her house warm and always waved when she saw him in the grocery store despite the guarantee he wouldn’t aside her back. Hearing his truck ambling up through driveway wasn’t anything new.

It’s why she forgot to mention it to anyone else.

“Damn freezing out here,” He spit with gritted teeth, sliding out of the truck in four layers of coats. “You’re real lucky the biscuits you make are worth this shit.”

She couldn’t help but stifle a smile. Shifting back and forth to stave off the cold while wearing less than half of what Bear was. Only having come out to greet him since it was below freezing. Normally she’d leave him to drop off her bundles of kindling without the harassment of making him talk. But the snow was deep, and she felt guilty not at least helping him for a moment. Maybe it was good luck that she had though. Because Bear didn’t even make it to the back of the flatbed when a solid black figure smoothly appeared from the opposite side. Black steel glinting in evening light and the black hole of a rifled pistol aimed right at him.

She stopped dead in her tracks. The mistake washing over her seeing Ghost standing there in the scary-as-hell mask, with a white skull framed by a black hoodie and positive white snow all around him. Fuck, even the steam from his breath smoked out of the mask like he was fucking burning from the inside out and letting off pressure before he exploded. His eyes were dead and cold. Staring down the mountain man who’d came to just as still of a position. She was certain Ghost was the only one breathing.

“You’re not welcome,” his thick burred voice sounded more gritty than normal. Maybe from the cold weather… she’d not seen him inside her house in days. “Suggest you leave.”

Bear didn’t say a word, but his rapid nod of his head was enough to thaw her out. Stop this before it got any uglier than Ghost’s .45 making a damn-good threat.

“Wait! He’s… he’s here on purpose!” The excuse can’t great. There could be plenty of reasons he came with intent and then not be positive. “I needed him!”

The stiffness in Ghost miraculously gets worse. Frost in his wide shoulders turning to blue ice and that darkness in his eyes sharpening like flint from sloped hills behind the house. It made him more pissed, and she didn’t have the slightest idea of how to fix it.

He was cagey at the best of times. Like he’d bristle if he had fur on his back or bare fangs if he had the choice to. She hated making any of that anger show, but there wasn’t a better option right now. Besides… it was her damn house. She could have whoever she pleased so long as she thought they were safe. John had made it clear there wouldn’t be any restrictions unless something serious came up. And having visitors weren’t one of them. Especially since. Bear wasn’t coming in the house.

She’d been quite set in that decision anyways. Bear wasn’t the nosey type anyways. He didn’t talk much, did his job, and left. But that didn’t mean Ghost knew it. And his pistol didn’t even waver a centimeter even after she spoke.

“This… this yours?” Bear’s voice sounded shaky. His teeth unclenched and irritation with the cold wind dissolved. His question made her antsy. There were too many answers, and none of them felt right in her head.

“Long story,” she decided, taking a rounded pathway around Bear and towards Ghost. Purposefully staying far away from that damn pistol he felt still necessary to have out.

“He can be-”

“Lethal.”

Ghost’s interjection made her wince.

“Enough of that!” She snaps back, hissing and feeling the hot air freeze in front of her lips. “Let him drop off the firewood, and he’ll leave.”

One look back at Bear and she could see the slight confusion in his otherwise guarded expression. There was no chance in hell she was letting Ghost just disappear off somewhere after this. He couldn’t just point-blank threaten people. Bear was who kept the damn house warm half the winter whether she liked it or not. And Ghost couldn’t fuck it up just because he’d not been explicitly told anything.

“How ‘bout we lend a hand?”

Soap and Gaz walking up nearly gave her a heart attack. One of them was bad enough. Two more? Her faith in Bear not running and telling anyone who would listen about her was stretching thin. The grocery store, all three churches, and the fire department would think she was in a reverse harem by the end of the month. Even if Soap was already helping himself to the stacks of bundled wood in the back, this interaction felt centuries long with no hope of ending.

“Just three.” She finally gets the warning out, seeing Gaz going for a fourth bundle. He just nods, setting it back down and shooting a quite civil nod in the man’s direction.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” He adds, looking over the tall stacks. “How much?”

“Ten dollars a bundle.” Bear sounds half ready to pass out.

Gaz promptly drops the one he’s carrying and pulls out a wallet like he’s got no problem with Ghost still standing there like a human-centry gun. Pulling out a twenty and holding it out in his hand.

Is this some sort of fucking peace treaty?

Ghost only moves to holster his weapon after Bear takes the money and mutters something about ‘help yourself’ before shutting himself back inside the can of the truck without another word. Tension easing with each moment Soap spends stacking his arms tall with dry, red cedar and sycamore. She doesn’t even know where to begin. Wondering where John was. Wanting to know where Ghost had been. Why he’d even approached in the first place.

“I need a word with you.”

She can’t bring herself to do anything but stare out at Bear’s truck hightailing it off her property as she addresses Ghost. Hearing his very heavy boots creaking on the porch. He doesn’t say a word, but it’s clear once Gaz and Soap leave for inside that he’s not standing behind her for his own enjoyment.

“Do you have any idea what you might’ve just screwed up?” Her voice doesn’t sound like her own. It’s mad, sure. But almost panicked in a sense. The reality of the situation hitting her harder because she vividly remembered winter before the help. And it wasn’t pretty. Recent snows had been stable and quite pleasant actually. And Ghost nearly made target practice out of her own sure solution.

“Very aware,” that damn voice sounded too smooth. “Who is he?”

Another thick billow of fog curls out of her mouth. “Who he is, isn’t important. Keeping my fucking house from freezing is.” She can feel her fingers starting to prick from the cold even inside her coat.

“Don’t care for nameless men.” He counters just as seemingly unbothered.

If she could physically force herself to turn around and face him head-on, she would. But his utter disregard made it intimidating. Too much to handle.

“Jesus Christ….” She muttered, head dropping to thump against a porch post. “Barrett Stephens. We call him Bear.” It felt defeating to be forced to answer him like this.

Ghost’s boots strain the porch as he walks towards the firewood hoops. The sound of dry bark ready to catch an ember cracking and scratching as he moves it.

“Almost killed himself…”

“Yeah,” She chuckles dryly, biting the inside of her cheek and spinning around with some real anger. “M’sure the coroner would love to know how he got ahold of the pistol you have tucked in your fuckin’ jeans.”

That massive man turned on himself just as quickly. Closing a multiple-yard distance in just a couple long strides. His breathing heavier and that thick smoke trailing from the stitch-seams in his mask.

“Gonna get yourself killed too…” He warns. Low, and just like the wolf she pictured him being. Bared teeth, dilated eyes and all.

“Stop growlin’ at me…” The words come out of her mouth before she even thinks about how wrong it is. “Actin’ like a damn dog.”

He’s fast. So fast.

Hauling her backwards against the porch banister and towering high above her head with a low, and heavy sort of breath fizzling out in his chest. It’s the most threatening he’s been so far. And she can’t tell just how far she can continue to stand her ground without things truly getting ugly. Even her fingers have stopped tingling from the cold with just how fast her blood is pumping. Force feeding oxygen to her brain. Desperate to find a way to run from an inescapable situation she’d created.

“Mind tellin’ me where you got this idea to talk back to me, creeker?”

“When you started throwin’ that gun around like you have the right.”

The fear didn’t keep her mouth shut. Digging an even deeper grave all because he kept using that stupid fucking nickname. Pushing buttons and making it that much harder to be understanding of why he was always so bitter. Nothing she’d done had made a difference so far. And the patience she’d saved specifically for him was waning.

Ghost just chuckled, his head rolling to the side and the gloved hands gripping her coat tightened.

“The right?” It was almost impossible to imagine anything other than a smirk under that mask.

“Oh… I certainly have the right to defend what’s mine.”

Comments & Reblogs are Appreciated 🤎

#velvetures #velvetures writes #cod mwii #cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #cod au

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everythingmp3 · 7 months

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⎯ ୨ 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩୧ ⎯

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐨𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

after your fathers death, you need to push through the grief very quickly to continue his work as one of the most prominent smugglers around. still, the pain of your situation makes you fall further into unhealthy habits and despair, which nobody notices, nobody except for one of your fathers old friends: Tess. she senses that something is off with you and suddenly becomes a surprisingly strong presence in your life. eventually, your feelings for her push you towards letting your guard down.

warnings: minors dni. mentions of drug use and addiction, grief/death of a loved one, smut (reader receiving)

disclaimer: this one is long. Anna Torv got me good, I couldn’t stop thinking about her in the show. I never played the game, so accuracy was not the goal here, I just wanted to write something for the Tess we see in the show! I put a lot of thought and heart into this, so I really hope I can make some Tess girlies out there happy <3 or anyone else who is in the mood for a longer fic!

wordcount: 13k

It would have been absurd to call anyone during or after the outbreak “lucky”, considering the state of the world, but you knew in your heart that your fate had definitely been of the luckier kind.

up until the outbreak, you and your father had been living as a duo for as long as you could remember. he had raised you as a single father in a small town where he´d worked as a professor, and your life had mostly been a content and peaceful one.

you´d been old enough during the day of the outbreak to understand what was happening, but not old enough to remember much of it as an adult, the memories were all hazy, one big blur of panic. all you knew was that you two had left in your car in the middle of the night, never looking back once you were on the road, until you somehow got to be two of the first people inhabiting the Boston QZ.

the first few years were anything but easy. the “schools” you went to were a joke, the structures in place were authoritative and soul crushing, everyone was traumatized and trying to cope one way or another. it was bleak, a sinister chaos, but at night when you sat around the table together, you couldn´t help but feel a sliver of gratitude, you´d both stayed alive, which was nothing short of a miracle.

for about a year post-outbreak, your father just worked whatever jobs were assigned to him, like everyone else. it was routine work, boring, dull, but it kept you two afloat. still, he got restless, a man who´d been used to hours and hours of mental stimulation and human connection, he couldn´t stay in the shadows by himself like that forever, he was itching for more.

he had an air that granted him respect, so one day he received a proposal: his first contact to the smuggling business. at first, he was hesitant, but it was too tempting in the end, so he accepted, and it worked, better than he expected. it wasn´t exactly a natural progression, his former job in academia to that one, he saw the irony, but both jobs required people skills and he always told you: 90 percent of that kind of work is mental.

everyone was so lost during those early days, that a competent man like him, a mentor, attracted others, especially younger smugglers, like moths to a flame. his responsibilities quickly became more and more serious, people kept pushing him and a few others around his age to do the important organizing, the work that required more brain, not just intimidation and brute force, so about a year into that lifestyle, he slowly but surely became one of the top dogs in the smuggling business.

he kept his private life and business separate, always. he made sure you were safe at home while he was out, but the one thing he did right from the start, was that he told you everything about what he was doing. he knew it would not help you to stay naive and innocent, not in a world like that. he also knew you were smart and bored out of your mind, so what he did, each night, was that he told you every little detail about everyone he came into contact with, every trick he'd learned, every piece of valuable information.

he trusted you, and he knew he wouldn´t be around to protect you forever, he wanted you to have valuable insight in your hands once you´d have to fend for yourself. so by the time you were 15, you knew pretty much everyone he worked with by name, their secrets, their ways of working, all of it. what he did not know, was that you also had a good amount of secrets of your own: what you did in your spare time, how you managed all those hours on your own.

as a teenager you´d started seeing various bottles of pills he was holding onto for deals laying around the apartment, and you were slick enough to take a few each time without him noticing. you were dealing with something, call it depression, PTSD, anxiety, or a mix of all three, but regardless of terminology: you were going through it and refused to burden him with it. it was far from ideal but taking sedatives helped, mostly Ambien but you weren´t too picky, they just had to be strong. you kept it in check, nobody noticed, not once.

then, when you were in your early twenties, he fell ill. it was gradual but the hard life had worn him down, his heart was giving out, and all you could do, was to try to spend the rest of his days by his side, which you did. people were devastated, everyone knew him or of him, so some of them even came by your apartment to say their goodbyes, including one of his closest allies: Tess.

you knew about all of his business partners, and Tess had been one that he really valued, spoke of very highly, always. you´d seen her around a few times and he´d told you a few stories about her, but she was a woman who kept to herself, so he was discreet, never spilling anything about her personal life.

still, she always stuck out to you among the others. even though you´d never even spoken to her, something about her seemed different to you, you could see why he´d worked with her for over a decade by that point, there was a magnetism to her that got to you. sometimes, you caught glimpses of her from afar, and wondered what it was about her, that always made you think of her for the rest of the day.

the day she came to say her goodbyes to him, you couldn´t help it: you stayed just outside of the room to listen. others had cried, been very sentimental, but she just sat there in silence for a good while with him. you swore you could hear her sniffle, but once she stepped out of the room, after you'd quickly hurried down the hall to not be caught, she looked as strong and composed as ever, giving you a small nod as she walked by, nothing more, but in her expression, you could tell she was signaling something to you, that she felt for you. something in her gaze went straight to your heart.

as his death approached, you knew you had a choice to make. either, you could take over his business, or you could watch some random person attempt to fill the spot he´d leave vacant. early on, you knew, you´d have to take over. there was no way you´d let some psychotic power hungry tyrant swoop in and pick up all the work he´d leave up for grabs.

it was not a dream of yours to become his successor in that world, but dreams were a luxury few could afford those days, and you knew your fate could have been much worse. the decision meant that you´d have to deal with the impending grief in a way that wouldn´t leave you weak and bedbound, so you made a deal with yourself: one day. once he´d die, you´d give yourself one day to fall apart, to fall as deeply into despair as possible. and then, you´d have to get to work and forget all about it.

even though a few of them had told him that they´d look out for you, you knew smugglers well enough to not trust their patience, their promises. if you´d stay inside grief stricken for weeks, they´d lose respect, they´d forget about you, someone else would catch their attention. besides, you had no interest in pity, in being handled like some precious little thing at risk of falling apart on her own. so, things played out exactly how you planned.

the day he died, you were inconsolable. it was darkness beyond imagination, loneliness unlike you´d ever felt it, your one guardian, one confidant: gone. the tears left your face swollen red, your body exhausted, so at night, you knocked yourself out really well with an extra high dose, knowing you´d have to step out the next day looking normal, respectable, hard to intimidate.

at first, there were some nerves, but the second you started talking to people, discussing plans, handling deals, you realized you could almost do all of it on auto-pilot because you´d spent years and years absorbing all of his ideas, his language and mannerisms. you were basically inhabiting his ghost as you started making it known that you were taking over, for good, and nobody seemed to question it, even though you were barely above twenty. something about you gave them the vibe of do not mess with her.

you were convincing in your new position and it helped that they were glad to cling to you, as a biological extension of his legacy. it worked, people respected you, you made sure his previous connections were properly taken over.

still, you felt absolutely horrible. deep down you were eaten up by grief, you were lonely, exhausted, but you simply couldn´t let it show, ever. your habit with the pills became much worse immediately. you used a pretty high dosage to sleep through entire evenings and nights, then you somehow got up and went out to do what you had to do, and repeated that cycle every day, not leaving yourself even one moment of just sitting around and thinking, because you knew once you´d let yourself do that: you´d break.

what you didn´t know, was that Tess had told people to report to her how you were doing.

she knew about you, she knew his death would leave you to your own devices, and at first she was convinced you´d be uninterested in taking over, but once she heard that you were doing it, she was alerted. she thought you´d fall flat on your face. a grieving daughter taking all that on? no way. but soon after, she heard back from people that you were working as if nothing had happened, and it puzzled her, that you were shouldering all of it seemingly without trouble. something in her told her: go have a look at that girl, something seems off there.

Tess remembered your kind face the day she´d seen your father for the last time, the look of something so fragile, so soft in there, it just did not mix with the things she was hearing about you the weeks after his passing.

so, about three weeks after he died, she made her way to your apartment, knocking around 8 pm. the second you opened the door, you knew of course who the intimidating looking woman in front of you was, but you just looked at her until she said “hey, could I come in for a second?”, her voice low and admittedly kind of alluring, you nodded, waving her in.

she was the first person who´d had the guts to just come over unannounced, nobody had bothered to come and check on you, which you were mostly glad about, but you couldn´t deny the fact that it felt nice to have someone there for once.

she walked into the nearest room, the kitchen, with a confidence as if the apartment was hers. you followed, watching her sit down a chair that she pulled away from the dining table, while you stood across the room, leaning against the wall. she cleared her throat, looking at you, her piercing eyes almost making you nervous then.

“okay listen. your father might have told you this, but just in case he didn´t: i don´t do bullshit. i don´t like to waste time, not mine, not other people´s, so i´m gonna get straight to the point here, okay?” you stared at her, the way she was resting her hands on her knees, leaning forward to emphasize what she was saying, her eyes unyielding.

you couldn´t help but feel a sense of admiration, her strength practically radiating off of her, you nodded, “sure go ahead”.

Tess looked at you with something disbelief, “what the fuck is going on?” she asked, quiet, stern. you were not unaffected by the tone, but you were unsure what precisely she was referring to, “what do you mean?”. she shook her head, “save the coy act with me. you know what I mean. the person you have lived with your whole life dies and then two fucking days later you´re out there taking over his business like nothing ever happened? come on. tell me what´s going on here”. you felt caught for a second but then you realized she was only suspecting, she had nothing in her hands to prove that anything was wrong with you, so you did what you did best: deny it.

“I mean… I see how that could seem a bit strange but what good would it do to just weep and mope around all day? I can´t change what happened. I don´t need to cry all day, I can work, I can function, it´s fine.” you almost believed yourself, you were a good liar, but not good enough to fool Tess, hardly anyone could lie to her without being caught. she could tell that beneath the convincing way of putting it that way, you weren´t telling the truth. it was hard to pinpoint how exactly she could tell, because your voice was no giveaway, neither was your demeanor, but something told her immediately that you were a person who knew how to hide things well, partially because she had the same talent herself.

“that sounds great on paper, really, but the way your father described you, it just doesn´t make sense, sorry, I don´t buy it.”

you were a little defensive then. “oh yeah, what did he say?” she grinned for a moment, relieved you were at least in a state that allowed you to push back.

“well, he liked to brag. he often told me how sweet you were, how you remained kind and thoughtful even during the end of the fucking world, with him doing shady business and no mother around to look after you. i recall the word “angel” being used a few times. I don´t see a girl like that being all unaffected and tough mere days after her dad´s death, not without finding some strange ways to cope. so I am concerned.”

you took in the words, almost emotional then, but keeping it together, struck by the word concern. nobody had clocked it, that you weren´t truly doing that great, but here Tess came, unwilling to just take the lie and leave you be. part of you felt relief at being seen for once, by her of all people, the one regularly described as “cold. hardass. not to go to with puppy eyes asking for forgiveness after fucking a job up”. there she was, inquiring about a stranger´s well being. still, you couldn´t get yourself to give her the answer she wanted.

“concerned? you hardly know me” you deflected, and she scoffed then, throwing her hands up, “yeah sure. you´re only the freshly orphaned daughter of a man I knew for about 15 years, why should i give a fuck, right?”. you couldn´t argue with that, realizing that she was also just trying her best to do the right thing.

“sorry, I didn´t mean it like that. it´s just, i am doing everything right. why do i have to justify that?”. you were defensive because you knew, if you allowed yourself to open up to her, it would end with you in tears, and you weren´t up for it. still, it hurt, to be offered some solace and refuse it.

she insisted, “yes but that´s exactly what strikes me as odd. now would be the moment to do it all wrong, to be weak, to mess up, yet here you are, walking those damn streets like you´re the new sheriff in town. and hey, i´ll give it to you, you´re doing a good job, but something is off, and i want to understand.”

“I am just doing what has to be done” you said, a defeated tone to it, which she didn´t love hearing. she was losing her patience, “listen to me. you should be taking a break right now. this is about the hardest thing to go through, you should not be pushing yourself the way you are, not right now, not like this”.

you were quiet, looking at her, your eyes not obviously soft but something was in there, she saw a glimpse of vulnerability, but then it escaped her again. you were stubborn, a few more moments of your wordlessness made her realize that you wouldn´t talk. Tess knew she was onto something but you wouldn´t let her in, so she leaned back and exhaled, looking up at the ceiling, her shirt lifting up a little, a glimpse of her skin, it burned in your vision for a split second.

“okay, you don´t wanna talk, that´s fine. but trust me, I know grief and I know denial. I´ve been around long enough to have seen it many times, what repression of all that shit can do to someone. so, I guess, this is my way of saying: be careful. and I might not be the one for big speeches or touchy feely shit, but I do care. so, keep that in mind if you ever need… well, help.” she got up then, straightening out her clothes, running her hands through her long slightly gray hair, looking a little worn out from the day, but still, extremely striking. she was a sight that stirred something deep inside of you, you couldn´t deny it, even while being confronted by her, you couldn´t stop feel a pull in her direction.

she walked towards the door but stopped for a moment when she was close to where you were standing, looking at you for second, a hint of a smile:

“well, i´ll give it to him, he raised no fool, that´s for sure”, you cracked a small smile too then, not rewarding her with a lot of words though, “thanks, Tess. I´ll keep all that in mind”, that was the first time you ever used her name to address her and it hit a nerve in her, like a wave of electricity running through her at the sound, but she didn´t let it show, instead she briefly patted your shoulder, saying “take care”, and left.

the second she was out on the street again, Tess realized that it was a good idea for her to leave your apartment, because the idea of you being all on your own there, spending entire nights in that dark, empty place, did not leave her cold, at all, and she had no interest in growing too emotionally involved. there was something about you that she had not expected and it was messing with her, it was making her mind spin.

whenever your dad had talked about you, she had pictured someone more like a teenager, but you were anything but that. you were a grown woman, young but clearly marked by the tough life you´d lived, someone she couldn´t just crack with one stern look. you had an air of nonchalance that was hard won; she knew you´d paid a prize to keep up a facade like that.

a pretty facade, she had to admit, you were undeniably beautiful. Tess was not one for crushes, but she knew an attractive woman when she saw one. you did not dress much differently than the other women she knew, but still, you were so different, your face had a distinct look that got to her: your eyes, your expression, the way you´d looked at her, it all stuck with her, that image of you, sitting there at the kitchen table, backlit by the setting sun: burned into her mind.

she knew there was no way around it, she´d keep thinking of you, wondering what you were actually thinking, feeling, what you did during those hours at night all on your own, how you managed to work the way you did, what you were hiding, how you managed your grief, whether you cried or not, what you were afraid of, what you did to seem as unafraid as you did.

most of her days were spent talking to people she didn´t care about one bit, often even actively resented, so sensing the potential of actually caring about a person, and even better, being challenged by their cleverness, it made it impossible for her not to wonder how she might find an excuse to talk to you again. Tess was not heartless, she might have been perceived that way, but she knew, deep down, that it was only a matter of time until she´d give up the i don´t give a fuck attitude for someone who needed her to. and something was telling her, you might be that person.

as she left your apartment, a voice inside her was telling her:

keep an eye on that girl. she might need someone one of these days, and the others don´t see it.

it was also telling her:

don´t you dare fall for your dead friend´s daughter.

the weeks leading up to that night, you´d done your best to remain numb, nothing had really gotten to you, you´d kept yourself busy or knocked out, but then, one brief visit from Tess and you were shaken up, moved, affected. within ten minutes she´d managed to reach some part of you that you´d kept shut off. something about her presence was both comforting and thrilling. you´d had crushes before, but it was different with her, the word almost too mild and cute to describe the visceral nature of it. once she left your apartment you just sat in your kitchen for about half an hour, quiet, thinking, unable to process what you were feeling.

that night you dreamed for the first time in ages. you couldn´t recall the details the next morning, but you knew it was about her, and your body was warm in your bed even though the apartment was freezing cold.

you knew you couldn´t just go to her without a reason, you had too much pride to just admit to her that you wanted more of her company, so you tried to ignore it, but the following week you thought of Tess a lot, so much so that you found yourself perking up whenever anyone around you mentioned her. then, one day, someone came up to you as you were busy dealing with something and told you she´d asked for you, for you to come to her the next morning, something about a job she was involved in.

you wondered why she would ask for you specifically, but regardless of her reasoning, you were just excited to be able to see her again without even having to initiate it. so, the next morning you made your way to the address you´d been given. you knew your way around, you knew that it was the bottom floor of this abandoned warehouse that people in your line of work often used to meet discretely.

the second you stepped inside, you saw two women you recognized, two guys, and Tess, sitting around a make shift table out of boxes, various maps and papers spread out over it. Tess locked eyes with you immediately and got up, waving you over to step aside with her for a moment, knowing you´d probably have questions.

she looked at you, a smile, “thanks for coming” you nodded, “sure no problem. so, what is this?” you asked, crossing your arms, she realized she owed you an explanation, “well. there´s something rather big we have to plan. and what I´ve been hearing from people tells me that you´re one of the brighter ones around”, a grin as she said this, “so, I thought why not ask you to join? couldn´t hurt to have your input”. you were listening, eyes on her face, and something told you that she wasn´t telling the whole truth.

part of you felt like she might be testing you, wanting to see if everyone was just cutting you some slack and exaggerating your skillset, but you were up for it, “sure, I´ll do what I can”. “alright then” she pulled you by the arm, the brief touch making you feel more than you hoped it would, but even a small squeeze from her hand did something to you. you tried to forget about it as you sat down next to her.

they quickly filled you in. getting people across city limits was nothing new, but it was gonna be about 5 people, which was a lot. the plan needed to be perfect, you needed to make sure that it was all ideal; the time of day, the routes they would take, possible quick escape routes too if trouble came their way, calculating possible run ins with law enforcement, mapping out where they usually stood guard, every detail had to be considered.

you let the others do most of the talking, only chiming in when you had a correction to make, a better suggestion, or needed to explain why certain things wouldn´t work. you observed most of the time, but the few remarks you made were precise and helpful, you could tell they were glad to have you around, even Tess, who was not easily impressed, nodded in approval multiple times when you said something. at times you could feel her looking at you from the side, even when you weren´t talking and you wondered why; was she concerned? curious? or, maybe, just maybe, did she also find you intriguing?

similarly you also found yourself staring at her kind of in awe whenever she talked, resting your face on your hand, just looking, her voice almost soothing you to a point of spacing out. you tried your best to listen to the words being said, but it wasn´t easy, with her sitting so close to you, her body somehow waking yours up after weeks up feeling dead.

before you knew it, you´d spent almost the entire day just sitting there, talking, planning, at times stepping away to drink something or stretch your limbs. by the time it got dark, you were done. as the others stood around talking for a while, you already stepped out, catching some air, leaning against the wall of the house, clearing your head for a moment before going home. after a few minutes, you saw the others leaving, waving goodbye, Tess following shortly after, making her way over to you, taking up the empty space next to you.

at first neither of you talked, both just staring ahead, tired from the day, but then she spoke up, “you were good today”, her voice lower and raspier than at the beginning of the day, getting under skin. you knew that counted as high praise from her, so you smiled, looking at her, “thanks. I guess I passed your test then, huh?” she stared at you, her eyes giving away that you´d caught her off guard with that, it amused you, so you went on “it´s fine, I get it, I wasn´t counting on any nepotism treatment”, she raised her eyebrows then, “smart AND funny, huh?” laced with obvious irony. you shook your head, looking back at the street, she smiled to herself, realizing more and more that she shouldn´t underestimate you, since you kept surprising her, but it was a challenge she was eager to accept: figuring you out.

“well, I know for a fact he couldn´t have taught you all that. I know enough smart guys whose kids can barely count to five so… it´s definitely not just a family thing”, you appreciated that, she continued, staring up at the sky, leaning her head back against the wall, “to be honest it´s kind of eerie at times, you at your age, talking like that” she admitted, you turned to her then, facing her more directly, “yeah? how so?”, she shrugged, breathing out, “I don´t know. I guess you´re so young, but already so..” you completed the sentence “jaded?”, she laughed then, the sound of it getting to you, “no, no, that´s not what I mean. it´s just, you should be.. more carefree I guess. as much as I hate dealing with stupid mistakes by youngsters, it does feel odd that you´re so fucking composed already”.

you considered it, you could tell there was genuine sympathy in there and she wasn´t wrong either, it was pretty clear you weren´t exactly out there being young and wild, “well, I guess spending most of my time only talking to and living with a middle aged man did that”.

she nodded, an understanding smile, “right. well, maybe it's time to change that sweetheart, huh?” you couldn´t tell if she was being genuine or fucking with you, you looked her, squinting your eyes, “you know I can´t exactly get in trouble, Tess. not even a little”.

she knew what you meant, “fun” for younger people those days mostly meant breaking into empty buildings, drinking or getting high there, attempting parties, but with your lifestyle, you knew run-ins with FEDRA were to be avoided at all costs, so nothing like that was on the table for you. besides, it wasn´t exactly your idea of fun, you´d rather find someone to spend time with one on one, but you weren´t gonna tell her all that, not in that moment.

she nodded, “yeah i know. still, there´s gotta be some way for you to have fun, hm?” it sounded slightly suggestive the way she said it, “sure, i´ll find a way, one day”, you kept it vague too, and she left it at that, since she saw that you were shivering from the cold, “come on, let´s go, you´re also headed down there, right?” pointing down the street you both had to take home, “yeah i am”. you followed her, walking close but not too close, wishing you could link arms, warm yourself up against her. for a second Tess almost offered you her jacket, but she realized how romantic that would´ve seemed, and let it go.

you were rarely scared, not even at night, but it did feel nice for a change, to have someone as intimidating and capable as her next to you, it felt good. she looked ahead, seemingly lost in thought, but she could tell you were looking at her from the side, and she almost felt frustrated by how nervous it made her. nothing made her blood rush anymore those days, not fear, not excitement, nothing; she was hardened, so feeling like she might actually flush from feeling you look at her almost irritated her for a moment, something so simple breaking her open, but she liked it, deep down she did.

you walked in silence for about a minute, and it was ironic that you had thought about feeling safe next to her, because out of nowhere a loud bang startled both of you. you stopped in your tracks, your minds racing: was it a gunshot? an explosion? a car crashing into something? it was too far to tell, but close enough to be alarmed. five seconds passed of you two standing there frozen, listening, before gunfire opened nearby. you could hear what sounded like a pretty large group of FEDRA assholes quickly stomping down the street, and within one second Tess had her own gun in her hand, yanking your arm with the other one, instructing with urgency “run!”, not letting go, pulling you down the street. from the look of it she had her eyes on some escape route and she did.

in that moment it became crystal clear that she had years and years of experience on you, while you were still thinking she had only needed a split second to do the right thing, to think of a way out. by the sound of it they were coming dangerously close, you could hear screaming, shots being fired, the darkness ruptured by car lights, you had very little distance between you and them, and Tess made you run faster than you´d run in ages, never letting go of your hand. she pulled you into a small alley, letting go once you reached a few metal trash cans that she immediately kicked to the side, revealing a small door that lead into the backside of the tall building it belonged to, ripping it open and pushing you inside, before following and banging the door shut behind you.

you were out of breath, trying to think. the room smelled ancient, damp and was completely dark, there was no way of seeing, but you could hear her breathing and cursing under her breath next to you. “jesus fucking christ” you said, “crack-downs usually only happen during the day what is their fucking problem??”. you were pissed, your lungs were stinging. “yeah, get used to it, lately it´s been all the fucking time” by the sound of it she was still hunched over and very out of breath, you couldn´t help but laugh then, “I take it running isn´t one of your hobbies, huh?”.

she couldn´t see, so she just guessed where you were standing and slapped in that direction, making contact with your stomach for a second, “just you wait til you´re old, see how funny this is then”. you were grinning, “old? Tess, you´re barely over 40”, she shook her head, calming down, resting against the wall then, “how about you quit the comedy and say: thank you Tess for saving me. I´m so grateful you weren´t a deer in headlights like me and dragged my ass to safety”. you mirrored her actions then, you arm hitting hers in the dark, “fuck off, you were just quick as hell”, she took it as a compliment, secretly enjoying the more familiar vibe that was suddenly in the air, “yeah I was, lucky for you”.

“so, what is this place?” you asked, “little thing I discovered back in the day. as you know this area isn´t exactly the greatest, they love targeting us here so yeah, saved my ass a few times, but it´s been a while”, “cozy.” you said, flatly, “hey, if you wanna go back out there and get your head blown off instead, be my guest” she snapped back, it was funny to you, how easy it was to rile her up.

“I think about an hour and we´ll be fine to leave. things usually die down within that time frame”, “an hour??” you exclaimed, clearly not happy. “yes, an hour. don´t act like you have anywhere else to be, I know you don´t”, “wow okay, rub it in, go ahead”, she smiled then, perhaps she´d exaggerated a little, maybe half an hour would have been fine, maybe she´d subconsciously bought herself more time with you.

“we don´t have to stand here by the way, there´s a ladder somewhere that leads to a hallway and room, go on feel around, it can´t be far”, you started searching for it in the dark, hands reaching into empty space until something would show up, “so I´ll just climb up in total darkness and crack my head open if I miss a step and fall?”, she shook her head “alright, drama queen. if anything I´ll crack my head, you´re going ahead of me, so worst case you´ll fall back onto me”, you smiled then, safe to do so because she couldn´t see, “still, not great”. you found it, “here, come”. you could feel her close behind you while stepping onto the ladder, a few steps up, you could feel her following, her hands on your back then, sending a shiver down your spine that you hoped she didn´t feel.

“go on, i got it” she reassured. it wasn´t far up, a few moments later you could feel a floor, your palms flat against it, pulling yourself up, letting out an audible groan as you tried to get up on your feet from that position, she laughed, “and you of all people had the audacity to make fun of my fitness”, “shut up” you whispered, as you could feel her standing up behind you, reaching for you to make sure you were both far away enough from the ledge, her fingers making your skin feel warmer.

“there´s a lightswitch somewhere here, wait” she slapped the stone wall in random places until a tiny lightbulb above you flickered on, your eyes adjusting for a second. once you could see again, you both realized you´d been holding onto each other´s arms pretty tightly and let go at the same time, seeing each other´s faces, a little flushed, and for a moment you just stared at each other, collecting yourselves, before she looked around, pointing down the small corridor, “come”. you followed, watching her adjust her shirt, her usual half up half down hairstyle somehow even better after it had come undone a little, you tried to snap out of it, but her physicality was drawing all of your attention in.

she pushed the door open, there was some resistance from the old wood but it was no struggle for her; Tess was strong, you knew that of course but actually seeing it like that was something you could get used to. the room was barely bigger than a broom closet but you could both sit on the floor. she slid down the wall, motioning for you to follow. you sat across from each other, knees almost touching.

“oh fuck” she grabbed your hand, you had no idea what was going on until you looked down: your knuckles were bleeding. you´d scraped them but couldn´t even remember how or where, which she took note of, the fact that your body seemed to be so numb that you didn´t even register an injury. “oh..” you said, unfazed, “hold on” Tess said, and before you could stop her she took the hem of her shirt in her hands and pretty violently ripped a part of it off, telling you to hold out your hand before quickly tying the soft fabric around, over your knuckles, the blood getting soaked up by it, “there you go”. you shook your head, “that really wasn´t necessary Tess, you fucked up your shirt for me”, she waved it off, “oh who cares, we can´t have open wounds here”. you looked down at where she´d bandaged you, a sting in your heart: how long had it been since someone had shown you care like that?

you put your head in your hands then, a sudden throbbing headache. you were usually already asleep in a drug induced haze at that hour and you knew your body was eager to shut down, but you forced yourself awake, rubbing your temples, sitting upright again.

she was observing you, quietly, just looking, “you okay there?”, “yeah yeah, just… long day, that´s all”, she nodded, slowly “right. you wanna stop lying to me any time soon, or no?”.

you met her gaze then, she held it, refusing to let it go, you shrugged “I don´t know what you want me to say, Tess”, whatever she was doing was working, you were not in a position to lie with her that close to you, that attentive, picking up on every little mannerism.

“how about you start by telling me how you´re actually doing. what you´re doing to cope. because i know it´s not fucking meditation or journaling”, a tired smile from you then, you briefly broke eye contact, thinking about how to put it, before looking back at her.

“I think the answer is so obvious that it flew over your head”, she was confused then, “how so?”, you cocked your head, “come on, Tess. in our business? what does literally everyone do to cope?”. her eyes went wide then, she shook her head, “no. I can tell you´re not on drugs, I know the look”.

“well, i don´t do it during the day…” she looked alarmed, “what the fuck are you telling me?” you felt vulnerable then, having actually put it out there. you were looking at her with pleading eyes, not wanting to say it word for word, hoping she´d catch on. she was louder then, “jesus fucking christ, what kind of drugs?” your voice was quiet, a little defensive, “well, I don´t drink and I don´t smoke. so you do the math.”

she pressed her hands together, looking at the floor for a moment, she seemed angry, “you´re hooked on pills, that's what you´re saying?”, you shrugged, “I don´t know if hooked is the word I´d use-” she interrupted, her tone hard, unforgiving “that´s exactly what someone who is hooked would say”, you threw your hands up, defeated, “right okay”.

she tried to calm down a little, “how much?”, you debated lying, but it was clear you were past that, there was no point, so you told her the average amount you took, and the shock on her face didn´t feel great. “are you fucking with me? that could knock out a horse!”, her voice echoed through the empty hall, a moment of silence after, you didn´t feel shame but something related to it, seeing her react that strongly mirrored back to you how serious your situation was. she shook her head for a while, processing, her hand on your knee then, firm as she spoke, “you´re gonna have to stop that. and I mean it. that shit could easily kill you if you don´t”. you didn´t have it in you to fight then, you just looked at her, no words were coming, “oh, so that´s fine with you, yeah?”, you got angry too then.

“hey I didn´t choose this fucking life okay? I did what I could to not go insane, and considering all the nut-jobs i´ve had to deal with, I´d say i´m not doing that bad of a job”, Tess realized then that it wouldn´t help to be accusatory, she let up a little, feeling sympathy for you as she watched you nervously fidget with your clothes.

“he had no clue, did he?” she asked, quietly, you shook your head “no, thank god. he had enough to worry about” she eyed you, something like respect mixed into the obvious concern, “you really know how to keep a secret, don´t you?” she knew it must´ve been years of that habit for it to sound as casual as it did, coming out of your mouth, and it mostly pained her to think of you as a teenager doing all that, but somehow it also impressed her: the fact that nobody ever caught on.

you didn´t smile then, but your expression became lighter, “yeah, you´re actually the only one who knows now”, that surprised her, touched her a little even, realizing that it must´ve been pretty vulnerable of you to tell her. “really?”, you nodded, “hm yeah. guess you should feel good about yourself, your intuition is still in-tact”, she almost laughed then, “right, that´s a huge consolation, that I was right about you having some fucked up secret”.

you looked at her with clear affection then, your walls had come down and she saw it, returning the look, glad she´d actually gotten somewhere with you. “well, I might have to drag you out at night, to stop all that”, you shook your head “that would not be pretty, I´d be a mess, you´d hate it”, “oh, I´d manage” she said, sounding convinced of it.

you smiled, “thank you, but no”. she got it, you were grown and had to deal with it on your own, still, she hated the idea of leaving you to your own devices. her soft spot for you had only grown softer all day; sitting next to you for hours, listening to your thoughts, your voice, the feeling of your hand as you both ran off, the feeling of you so close in that room, being trusted with something you hadn´t told anyone before. Tess was in deep, and she knew it, she tried hard to let it go, but it was a losing battle. seeing you there, your face half-lit by the weak lightbulb, your knees pulled to your chest, your eyes, tired but beautiful, it gave her the urge to reach out and touch you, make you feel better, but she kept it in, sat there stone-faced, mostly, but you saw something, it was there, her demeanor had shifted.

for few minutes you just sat there in silence, both lost in thought, resting against the walls, eyes closed. she realized that it might be a good idea to repay you for your honesty, to not let you sit alone in the uncomfortable feeling of having shared something personal, so she spoke up, “listen. I don´t usually talk about this stuff because it´s been ages and I don´t want pity or consolation, but I lost everyone I cared about during the outbreak, truly all of them, and for a good while I thought I´d never survive it. but, here I am. and I am not saying that it´s been easy, not at all, but I did survive it, so. keep that in mind when you feel like it´s all too much.”

you took in the words. it was rare, for her to speak of her past, you sensed that she might actually be trying to get closer to you, to bond, “I´m really sorry, that must´ve been awful. it probably still is. but you´re stronger than me, Tess, I can´t compare myself to you”.

she shook her head “no, I´ve just had time to polish the facade, trust me. you should´ve seen me about a decade ago, I was going through it, it was ugly”, you looked at her then, realizing that beneath her tough aura that seemed so effortless, so natural, there was also a lot of pain, a lot of hurt she´d pushed through, sensitivity she kept to herself.

it felt good, to share the feeling of being softer on the inside than either of you let on. you absentmindedly rested your head on her leg, your body clearly tired from the day, more prone to random acts of affection like that without thinking twice, you didn´t care in that moment, she didn´t either, patting your hand with hers a little, resting it there for a second.

“you´ll be fine” she declared, you locked eyes with her, “I´ll try”, her hand squeezing yours reassuringly. “trust me, I´ve seen lost causes, that´s not you”, you looked at her then, “yeah, what am I then?”, she smiled, “a salvageable cause” you laughed then, “I´ll take that”.

she was glad to see you loosening up again. it was soothing, the dark confined space, the quiet, the vibe that had settled between you and her, it felt like you were hidden from the world, like you´d been offered a brief moment of peace, without thinking you rested your head on your knees, closing your eyes for a second, Tess watched you, feeling protective over you, her hand resting on your leg that was propped up in her direction. after a while you felt her nudging you.

“I think we should be fine to go now” she said, and you tried to mask the disappointment, wishing you could stay there with her longer, which was a feeling you weren´t alone in.

she stood first and pulled you up, again, no struggle for her, her hand´s grip on yours too brief, you wished she´d have kept holding it like that. as you both stood there, face to face, a little raw from the personal discussion, something passed between you; the air was charged, both of you felt it, searching the other person´s eyes, your bodies barely an inch apart, but before it could lead anywhere, you both got scared of doing something you´d regret and looked away, acting casual, or at least trying to. you made your way down to the door, she tentatively opened it, not all the way, gauging the situation outside first, but it was all quiet, so she waved you out.

it was pitch black by then, freezing, a clear night, the full moon illuminating the streets. somehow there was a shared agreement between you and Tess, that what you´d said in that little room would stay in there, almost like a confession booth; the moment you were walking down the street, you were both your usual tough selves again.

the walk home was wordless, your house was the first you reached, and at first you just stood there, almost shy, both unsure how to say goodnight after spending the entire day together, both thinking things you wouldn´t say.

Tess broke the silence first, “so. I know you´re about as bad as me at accepting help, but I´ll say it one more time: I am here if there´s ever anything I can do for you. and maybe pick up smoking instead of.. you know” a genuine laugh from you then, “okay, good idea. and thank you. for-” you gestured around between you and her, trying to convey gratitude without specifying what exactly for, she got it, “don´t mention it, you´re by far not the worst person to be trapped in a room with” she said with a smug grin, before giving your shoulder a brief squeeze and saying goodnight. as she walked off your gaze fell down to your bandaged knuckles, and something in you told you she wouldn´t have done that for just anyone. at least you hoped so.

that night you didn´t consciously skip the drugs, her asking you to quit was not enough to kill that instinct; you simply forgot. the next morning you couldn´t even remember how you´d undressed, showered, and gotten into bed, you´d been so lost in your thoughts about Tess, that you´d somehow fallen asleep before you could reach for any self-medication.

you couldn´t help but see the irony, that she´d berated you for the habit and without knowing it actually succeeded in getting you to stop that day, not with her words, but with the deep attraction you felt to her, the way it took over your whole mind and body, no space left for worrying about anything other than when you´d see her again.

the next few days, nothing much changed. a whole week went by, then another, and nothing in particular was worse than the weeks before, but that was the issue; it was an endless cycle of living the same day. you felt like you were trapped doing the exact same things over and over, nothing to look forward to, nobody to talk to other than people you were involved with for work, it was just sleep and business and suppression of anything unpleasant you were feeling, every day, no moments of peace or laughter or joy, no light at the end of the tunnel.

one night about a month after you´d last seen Tess, except for a brief nod from across the street a few times, you couldn´t take it anymore. it was late, you were alone in your apartment and the silence was killing you, the loneliness, the same routine, all of it. you had to move and get up, so you stepped outside at 11 pm, knowing there was only one person you could go to.

you were counting on Tess still being awake at that hour. once you reached her apartment door you were nervous, the second you knocked you felt adrenaline rushing, because you realized you hadn´t even bothered to make up a lie as to why you were there. she opened the door and looked at you with a smile that said and who do we have here?.

the moment Tess laid eyes on you, she could tell you weren´t doing any better than the last time she´d seen you. the light in your eyes had dimmed even more, so she saved the jokes and the teasing, she didn´t demand an explanation, “come in”, relief washed over you as you stepped inside. you followed her down the dark hallway to the living room that was connected to an open kitchen, you took in the room and unsurprisingly it did not give much away about her; decorations were sparse, no posters on the wall, no sentimental photos, but a few candles were burning and the room seemed like a peaceful space.

“sorry, I know it´s late”, you said, slightly self-conscious, aware it might seem odd to just turn up like that, but she turned to look at you as she walked over the the kitchen, clearly unbothered, “oh no, don´t worry, I never sleep before midnight anyway”. it almost felt more humiliating, to be treated with kindness, somehow you didn´t feel deserving of it.

she saw you standing in the middle of the room, a little timid, so she gestured over to the couch emphatically, “sit.” it sounded more like an order than an invitation, which you liked, her brand of care that always had a subtle touch of dominance to it.

as you sat down, trying to position your body in a way that would look natural, she came over, bending down to hand you a glass of water, “here, drink”, her voice warm and strong.

she didn´t sit down next to you on the couch, but on the armchair next to it, you almost told her to come and join you but you knew how that would have sounded, so you drank up, set the glass down and faced her.

she had crossed her legs and was leaning her head on her hand by then, watching you, her hardened face somehow much softer in the candlelight, her eyes shimmering, her hair falling down her face in loose waves, the sight making all your unexpressed feelings for her bubble up. you tried not to just stare at her as she spoke up, “so. couldn´t sleep?”.

you shook your head, leaning back a little, exhaling shakily, looking over at her, “no. not at all”. “hmm” she waited a moment before asking “wanna tell me why?”. you knew you hadn´t come over to lie, so you nodded, “yeah. well, I stopped taking anything like three weeks ago”, she leaned forward then, “that´s good, I´m glad. did anything prompt that, or did you just stop because you wanted to?”.

she was onto something, and you felt the need to share it, “no, there was a moment. it was pretty dumb actually, one day I just fell, or collapsed I should say, out of nowhere. I know all the side effects but that one had never happened before, and I landed pretty fucking hard”. you were a little shy as you pulled up your shirt to reveal the left side of your ribs, the bruises were faded because it had been a few weeks but the outline was still very much there, faint yellow and green, the way bruises look towards the end of the healing process, the impact had spanned over multiple of your ribs.

Tess flinched for a second when she saw your skin, a mix of attraction and pain, “jesus…” she whispered, trying to suppress the urge walk over and see it up close, “I´m so sorry, that must´ve hurt like hell”, you nodded, letting your shirt down again, a little embarrassed by the story. she was clearly affected by it, her eyes giving it away, “and let me guess, you didn´t ask for help or stay in bed, did you?”, you just looked at her, wordlessly signaling that she was right of course.

she changed the way she was sitting then, relaxing her posture again, shaking her head a little, “what are we gonna do with you, hm?” a faint smile, eyeing you the way you eye someone who just fucked something up, but in a way that somehow makes you feel even more softly towards them.

you continued, nervously running your hand up and down your thigh, “Tess, it´s been awful. really, I can´t sleep anymore. I am awake all the fucking time, it´s horrible.”,

your voice tinged with a sense of hopelessness that alarmed her, she tried to frame it positively for you, “well, then it´s impressive I´d say, that you pushed through for a few weeks already. despite all that”. you considered it “right, yeah I guess. but I feel no better than before. I don´t know Tess, I´m -” your gaze was cast to the floor, you were clearly struggling to find the right words, she encouraged you, “what is it? tell me”, you looked back at her again, “it´s just… is this all there is?” you vaguely gestured around, she cocked her head, “you´ll have to be a little more specific than that, sweetheart”.

“I mean this life we´re living. of course I wasn´t naive when I was younger, it was obvious I wouldn´t get to live a dream, still, I did have hope for something. but now that I´m in it, it´s so bleak. it´s the same meaningless shit every single day, and I just can´t stomach the fact that this is gonna be my life forever. how in the world have you been doing this for so long? I don´t get it, Tess, it´s fucking killing me” your voice was different than usual, she knew your usual tone: composed, slow, unwavering, but in that moment it was flipped, you sounded panicked, and it hurt, it hurt her to see someone like you in that state, knowing how much it must´ve taken to break you down like that.

she waited for a moment, but she just couldn´t stay in her seat any longer, so she got up and sat down next to you, speaking quietly, softly, “listen. I get what you´re saying, and I won´t deny it, it gets dark times, it definitely does, but you´re in a particularly rough spot right now, and it will not be this level of awful forever. trust me, I´d know.”

you looked up at her then, adjusting your posture to face her properly. Tess was many things, but she was not a liar, so you tried your best to really absorb what she´d said, to internalize it. “okay. I do believe you” she nodded, glad you were receptive to her comfort, her gaze fell to your left hand then, a few leftover bruises from the fall were also visible there. instinctively, without thinking twice, she reached out, her fingers ever so lightly running over the discolored skin, the sudden tenderness almost made you cry, she kept looking at your hand, kept holding it, “why didn´t you come to me earlier?” a genuine question.

you were so focused on how good it felt to be touched by her that it took you a second to answer, “I don´t know. what could you have done?”, she almost laughed then, “use your imagination, the things anyone with half a heart would do for an injured person: be nice, make some tea, maybe if I was feeling really crazy even offer a hug” you smiled then, “right. that does sound good”, “yeah, too bad you´re so strict with that suffering in silence vow you took”, you regained some humor then, “well if I wasn´t, I might have shown up here like this many times already so. careful what you wish for” she grinned then, “and you think I would´ve found that horrible, yeah?” you shrugged, “I don´t know, you tell me”.

she shook her head, amused by your refusal to see that she would pretty much drop anything to help you at any given time, “I don´t do charity, sweetie. when I say I´m here for someone, I mean it” you squeezed her hand then, realizing she´d been holding onto yours for the past minute or so. you were both looking at each other, feeling each other´s leg because you were sitting so close, faces not far apart, not at all, and something shifted in a split second. it had been a while since either of you had been with someone, but in that moment it was like your bodies were simultaneously remembering what desire feels like, more intensely than ever before, and you both saw it in the other person, mirrored back.

Tess was the first to move, she put her hand to your cheek, her thumb almost brushing over your lips, her gaze wandering over every part of your face, your breathing heavier instantly, you looked at her with pleading eyes, but she had given you that physical cue to make the decision yours. you saw her waiting, hoping, and gave in, hand on the side of her face, fingers in her hair, pulling her in for a kiss, harder than you intended, impatient, your lips warm against hers, your body immediately leaning in as close as possible, it took Tess one second to react, but the moment she felt you kissing her with that deep eagerness, it hit her: oh. this girl really wants me.

so she grabbed you with both hands and deepened the kiss, letting you climb onto her, holding you in place as you both abandoned restraint and hungrily kissed each other over and over until you felt your tongue against hers and slowed it down a little to savor it, softly moaning into her mouth, hearing her sounds mix with yours, turning each other on even more, her hands going lower and lower on your body, stopping at your waist, your back, her grip on you almost as arousing as the kiss, your whole body melting into her touch, the tension thick and heavy, your bodies almost overheating. your movements were desperate, your sounds too, everything about it was, it truly seemed like no amount of closeness was close enough, like you were so starved you might actually devour each other.

she could feel you pushing up against her while you kissed, and as you both caught your breaths for a moment, she could tell you needed more from her, it was not the time for anything that would take too long, not in that moment, but she knew she could help you relax, release some tension, and as if you could read her mind she could hear you begging “please Tess”, your face close to hers, a shiver as she heard the neediness in your voice, luckily clothes were pretty loose, no need to fumble with a zipper or undress, she had no trouble just slipping her hand under the fabric, down to your underwear, she could hear you take a sharp breath in.

“I got you” she reassured, “let me make you feel good, okay?”, you leaned back into the couch as she pushed you back with one arm and moved herself to an angle that would work, your legs apart then, her hand grazing your cunt through the soaked fabric.

she breathed even heavier then, feeling the effect she had on you, her fingers cold against the heat of your core, the contrast making you dizzy for a moment, shaking slightly, already sighing just from that, she cooed at you “it´s okay” as her fingers made direct contact with your cunt, her fingers sliding between your aroused lips, a moan almost leaving her as she felt your juices covering her skin, slick with it within one second, hearing you whine a little as she moved her fingers up and down, not even thinking about your pleasure for a second but her own, the thrill of having a pretty girl claim her in that sense, covering her in wetness, already fantasizing about getting her whole face up in it, tasting you.

the thought pushed her to add more pressure to her movements, the passion taking her over, fully, moving her fingers to your clit then, sensing it was the right thing because you were louder then, shaking almost, clinging to her, “fuck…don´t stop, please” tumbled out of your mouth as she drew circles over the sensitive spot, she felt your hips pushing upwards, her eyes back on your face then, watching you come undone, her chest swelling with the pleasure of knowing it was her doing: your eyes shut, your lips parted. “you´re so fucking pretty” she whispered while feeling your cunt practically dripping onto her hand, the words pushing you towards your orgasm even faster, she could tell you were close, so she leaned down a little, facing you, pinning you to the couch as she kept teasing your clit.

the thing that got you more turned on than you ever remembered being, was the her movements were not erratic or too fast, but secure and skilled, hard but not aggressive, a slow sensuality to it that was so powerful that you whole body burned with the sensation, “fuck, I´m-” you couldn´t even from the whole sentence but she knew what you were trying to say, “just let go sweetie, cum for me”, encouraging you to cum against her hand, which you did, a violent shudder going through you as you arched up against her hand one last time, and what killed you then was the even as you came down from the climax, she was still watching you, still touching you, so drunk on the feeling of your cum all over her fingers that she just couldn´t let go before you were truly finished.

you slumped back against the couch as she got up from on top of you and sat down next to you, also a little spent, leaning back. once you were coherent again, you looked over at her, exhausted but face glowing, she turned to face you, pleased to see you smile, “god that felt good..” you said, still high on endorphins, resting your hand on her leg, she laced her fingers between yours, “yeah. it did”, making sure you knew that got just as much out of it.

“did you call me pretty or did I imagine that?” you asked, smiling at her, she grinned, realizing that you were the type to really crave praise but not ask for it explicitly, “I´ll say it again, you´re very pretty”, her voice low and sultry, a satisfied look to you. she just said what she was thinking before she could change her mind, “do you wanna stay here tonight? you can sleep over if you want, it´s late” you sat upright then, moving over to her side of the couch, getting up in her space again, hand on her chest, “yeah I´d like that”, an enthusiasm to your expression that made her happy, “okay good. we´ll have to share a blanket though” she said, you laughed then, “I can handle that I think”.

you´d already showered and changed into comfortable clothes before you came over, so she told you to just get comfortable on whatever side of the bed you wanted, while she´d go freshen up. her bedroom was similar to her living room, minimal decor, but comfortable, warm, a few of her clothes over a chair in the corner, a wooden bedside table with a few books, a small lamp, a lighter, a candle, the bedspread a soft creme color, the window half concealed by dark curtains. it somehow smelled like her, slightly fresh, slightly woody, a hint of musk in there too. at first you didn´t even want to touch anything, feeling like a kind of intruder, but the second you sat down on the right side of the bed it was too soft and relaxing not to give in and get comfortable.

you were leaned against the headboard, still high on the feeling of her all over you, taking the room in, stretching your legs out, your hands running over the fabric of the sheets.

a few minutes later Tess she came into the room, her hair slightly damp, face fresh and glowing, dressed in a t-shirt and underwear. you were glad to see that she was already fine with you seeing her like that, even though you hadn´t seen her naked yet.

your gaze wandered to her strong thighs as she walked over to her wardrobe and got out a pair of sweatpants, she smiled to herself, feeling your attention even though she had her back turned to you, “you´re staring” she said, her voice giving away that she enjoyed it, “I know” you responded, which made her laugh and turn around to look at you.

you didn´t even bother to pretend, you were still clearly checking her out as she got dressed, “I think I deserve something in return for that” she said as she walked over to her side of the bed and got onto the covers with you, eyeing you from the side, “yeah like what?”, she smiled, pulling you closer in one swift motion, her hand finding the bare skin of your thighs under the fabric, squeezing a little, just taking in the feeling of your soft skin, you were face to face, and your grin gave away that she could do pretty much whatever she wanted to you, “if you want me to undress I can do that you know”, you teased, she shook her head, “no, this is good, I like having something to look forward to”, that was the charming way of putting it, Tess also could´ve said we can´t fuck right now because we´re both tired and I´ll need the first time of getting a taste of you to last as long as possible.

you blushed a little then, your hand in her hair, taking in the sight of her outside of her usual guarded physicality, all sweet and affectionate, relaxed, hand under her shirt, on her back, it was surprising to you, that nothing you did, no amount of touching her, seemed to be too much at all, even though she was not a hugger, not a person for handshakes even, so it made you feel free in your greediness for her.

you spent a short while just laying there, half entwined, the sleepiness adding to the slow tenderness of the moment, she seemed mesmerized as her hand wandered further up your body, pushing your shirt up a little to trace your side with her fingers, you leaned in to kiss her, pulling her closer by the neck, Tess pulling your lower side close hers with the grip she had on your waist. you were dizzy from the warm sensation of her lips, her skin, your leg over hers, the way she immediately kissed you back with a need she couldn´t hide, eliciting a few low sounds of pleasure from you, you only parted once you both needed air, “come on” she said, she motioned for you to get under the covers with her, the room a little too cold to stay like that for long.

the moment you were under the blanket a shyness returned, the intimacy of truly being in bed with her like that suddenly making you hesitant to move, which she saw, and it amused her, that this girl who had no issue firing a gun, beating people up if needed, dealing godless amounts of drugs, suddenly seemed unable to just take up the personal space of a woman who was very clearly into her. the contrast charmed her, made her realize that she had a good amount of power over you but the good kind, the kind that allowed her to make you feel safe, free to show your more vulnerable self for once.

she smiled at you, “so, you wanna stay on your side or?...”

you realized she was teasing a little, sensing your apprehension, it made you remember there was no need to be hesitant at all, so you shook your head, smiling back at her, “well come here then”. she opened her arms, gesturing for you to lay down on her however you wanted, which you did. you moved over and it felt so natural, to just lay your head on her chest and rest your arm on her stomach, everything about it felt like you´d done it before, the way Tess´s hand immediately found its way to your hair, running her fingers through it, softly, the repeated rhythm of it immediately putting you at ease, the feeling of your face against her chest reminding her how much she´d craved it all along, to feel useful, needed, to feel like her presence was actually making a difference to someone who deserved it.

“that feels nice” you whispered, your voice sleepy at that point, your body slack against hers, she ruffled your hair a little, feeling you lean into her hand, moving it down to caress your cheek, both of you slowly dozing off, so she reached over and switched off the small light that was still on, letting you stay on top of her, soothed by your weight on top of her. usually she had a hard time falling asleep, but it was impossible to stay awake any longer, you were both too comfortable.

when you woke up a few hours later in the dead of night, you realized that you´d moved over to your own side in your sleep, and when you realized that you were too awake to drift off again, you rolled over to watch Tess, who was sort of facing you in her sleep. she looked graceful, her mouth was closed, her cheeks were a little flushed, her hair spread out over the pillow, you just laid there admiring her.

she stirred a few moments later but you couldn´t be bothered to turn away and pretend you weren´t looking, so when she opened her eyes a little, you heard her say in a raspy quiet voice “are you watching me sleep?”, you smiled, “maybe”, she shook her head a little, clearly still half asleep, you added “you´re a pretty sleeper”, a sly grin on your face, “you don´t have to suck up to me, I already like you”, Tess uttered, witty even while she wasn´t fully conscious, you protested, “I mean it”, she had her eyes closed but spoke again, “that´s very charming but you should sleep instead”, “I tried” you said.

the liminal quality of that moment, the almost dreamlike air, made it easy for Tess to have no issue doing what she did next: she tapped you on the side of your body that was facing her “turn around”, telling you to get on your side and face away from her, “let´s try this”, she said, pulling you closer by wrapping her arm around you and getting into a big spoon type position, her chest pressed against your back then, her arm around your waist, and she was right to guess that it would help, her warmth immediately made your eyes feel heavy again, the sensation too good not to just melt into and lose yourself in. you put your hand over hers, and within about ten minutes you were both sound asleep again.

the next morning, it took you a moment to come to your senses and realize where you were, but the second you did, an unfamiliar thing happened: you were flooded with joy instead of dread. usually mornings were your least favorite part of the day, the things you had to do looming ahead of you, but as you saw the sun coming into Tess´s room, you felt at peace, content. the space next to you was empty and you could hear Tess moving around in the kitchen, so you got up, went to the bathroom to splash some water on your face, and walked to the kitchen. since you weren´t wearing shoes she didn´t hear you come in, so you just stood there watching her from across the room, smiling, until she turned around, “well, hello there” she said, unable to hide the obvious pure joy she felt at seeing you.

it had been a long time since Tess had dated or even hooked up with anyone, let alone let someone stay over, so every little detail of being with you gave her a rush, the sight of you leaning against the wall with your face still a little scrunched up from sleep was enough to make her feel warm all over, so she was almost scared of what it would feel like once you´d actually do something explicitly romantic for her. somehow you both knew it without saying, that you were about to spend a lot of time together, that you were both in need of much more than just one night. Tess wasn´t thinking as far as being your girlfriend yet, but part of her hoped, part of her did love the idea of finally being devoted to someone the way she always wanted to be.

she waved you over to where she was standing, setting a cup of coffee down on the counter, “perfect timing, I just got done with this” she put down some sugar too in case you wanted it. you approached her, almost a little shy, knowing she was seeing you in a rather personal light then, having barely been awake for more than five minutes, but she was clearly enamored by it. you gratefully took the cup and warmed your hands against it, taking a sip, leaning against over counter, looking at her, feeling her gaze on you the entire time. it was almost too good to be true, normally your entire day was spent in a haze where nobody could reach you, and there she was, disrupting it, again and again, making you come back to life just by being there.

“you could have woken me up, you know” you said, but she just shook her head, “no fucking way, I was glad you were sleeping so well” a grin that gave away she knew it was partly thanks to her, you nodded, your face muscles almost hurting from having been frozen in a permanent smile for the past few minutes, “yeah I do feel much better than yesterday. I wonder why that is” you said while taking her hand.

she tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, eyeing you, “is there anything you need to do today?” she asked, praying the answer was no, you shook your head, “no, nothing until Monday. you?” hoping for the same answer, she thought for a moment “well, nothing I couldn´t put off for a day or two” a faint smile, you got up then, walking over to her, putting your arms around her neck,“put it off then” you said, before leaning in to tenderly kiss her cheek, her neck, whispering against her skin “please stay here Tess. please”, your voice dripping with sweetness, her breathing changed as she felt you all over her skin, she thought of course this girl is clever enough to know what begging does to me, her hands on your back then, under your shirt, “okay, I´m not going anywhere” she said, and of course she wouldn´t, she already knew that before your act of persuasion, but she liked seeing you try to convince her.

“I think we should go back to bed” you declared, staring at her, a boldness that came out of nowhere but felt exactly right, she grinned, her hands on your waist, pulling you close, “you think so, yeah?”, you just looked at her, words were unnecessary, your hunger for her apparent in your gaze, Tess felt her face growing hot. it was one thing that you´d wanted her when you were weak and exhausted and needed comfort, it was another that you also wanted her when you were well rested and fine and could´ve thought of other things to start your day with, but apparently still only had her on your mind. “let´s get you out of these then, hm” she said, tugging at your clothes, your eyes sparkling up at her before she took your hand and lead you back to her room.

as she pulled off your shirt and started kissing your chest, you had that same feeling again that you´d had years ago: despite all the pain, the darkness that had seeped into your life at times, you knew in that moment how lucky you were that someone like Tess had paid attention to you in exact right moment, that she did not just help you, but made you come alive again.

finally, you found yourself not wanting to escape your body anymore, finally you were happy to be fully present, trying your best to soak up every little detail, the feeling of the sun spilling in, of being undressed by Tess, being admired, held by her.

it seemed like divine intervention to you, that Tess had come into your life right when you needed her the most.

#tess servopoulos #tess servopoulos x reader #the last of us x reader #tlou #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #anna torv #I’m thinking about also writing some shorter/smuttier stuff for her bc I have a few ideas for that #but for now heres this

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