#Loosely based on how I would look (The hair and outfit)

[weird-will]

*POV. Your me, scrolling through insta when you find this funky little Diddy called Harpy Hare.*

"Oh hey this song is kinda catchy!"

Two days later I'm fucking sketching a Meadowlark oc...

Semi based on this lil guy I made in picrew X

[regallibellbright]

This is one of the more bizarre bits of shaping I’ve done, I’d most likely want to tweak on this pattern if I ever do it again and would DEFINITELY do so before writing up a pattern to give to other people, and I am SO glad I wrote this shit down because I have to do it twice, but: Behold!

[ID: Two images, one from the side and one from the bottom, of a crocheted amigurumi’s foot, wearing light blue sandals with short heels. End ID]

It looks a bit wonky from the other side and at the closure - again, would want to refine it if I do it again - but it’s definitely a defined heel. Score one for me.

[ja3yun]

Guilty as Sin | P.SH

ceo!sunghoon x assistant!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, desk sex, doggy, dom!hoon, choking, petnames (slut, good girl), slight dub con (hoon doesn't know what she's doing on the phone), age gap (reader is 22 and hoon is 27), not proof read, its not great tbh, anything else lmk! w.c: 3.8k synopsis: with your roommate gone for the evening, it is the perfect opportunity to let loose and think about a certain ceo while you fulfil your deepest desires. a/n: hi! this is ofc based on guilty as sin by taylor swift. just a heads up, the italics are her fantasy and straight text is what is happening in the real world. i tried to make it as clear as possible but sorry if its confusing near the end! this is just a little someting I wrote quickly (who would have guessed I could write a wc under 10k lmao). i hope you like it and as always feedback, comments, reblogs and likes are all appreciated.

part 2

Placing her trusted Charlotte Tilbury lipstick in her bag, your best friend and roommate of three years, Jimin, is finally ready to go out for the night. She looks glamorous from head to toe, effortlessly exuding the confidence and allure of a world-class supermodel.

Her hair cascades in loose waves, artfully swept over one shoulder, highlighting her elegant neck and perfectly styled tresses. Her tanned skin glows under the soft lighting, accentuating the contrast with her white spaghetti strap crop top, which subtly showcases her toned midriff. Her black suede shorts hug her figure, adding a touch of sophistication and edge to her ensemble. Strappy heels elongate her legs, making her look even more statuesque.

As Jimin adjusts her earrings, you can't help but admire her impeccable sense of style and grace. Her makeup is flawlessly applied, with a hint of shimmer on her eyelids and a bold, dark red lip that makes her look like she’s stepped straight out of a DAZED magazine.

In stark contrast, you are nestled comfortably on the couch in your cherry pink pyjamas, lost in the pages of "King of Pride." The soft fabric of your pyjamas provides a comforting embrace, and your hair is casually pulled back in a loose ponytail. Your face is free of makeup, showcasing your natural beauty and the relaxed ease of someone enjoying a quiet evening, just you, a glass of wine, and the much-needed company of Kai Young.

“Okay, how do I look?” Jimin turns to you, plastering on a big smile, extending her arms so you can get a full glimpse of her carefully orchestrated outfit.

Holding your place in your book with your thumb, you pretend to inspect her harshly, knowing anything less would be deemed as not caring - at least in the eyes of your best friend. “I think…you look like the prettiest girl in the room, no, the world” you compliment her earnestly.

Tutting, she rolls her eyes. “You and Jaeyun say the same thing every time,” she giggles, enjoying the compliment despite it being a secret mantra you and her boyfriend have conjured up to keep her happy. Jimin has a certain way she likes to be spoken to and if it isn’t the most dramatic, complimentary words you can muster, you might as well call her an ugly hag who cracks mirrors.

Jaeyun and you have always rated her an unequivocal one hundred out of ten.

“Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to come?” Jimin asks for the fifth time in three hours. “Heeseung will be there, you know he has a bit of a crush on you.” She wiggles her eyebrows playfully, clearly enjoying how your face flushes at mentioning his name. Heeseung is handsome, no doubt about it, but he isn’t the man you would rush out the door for.

“I promise, I am quite happy here with my rich soon-to-be CEO and a glass of Pino,” you wave her off and open your book again, digging back into the chapter she pulled you from.To be honest, it’s not entirely a fib; you do want to stay in and enjoy a glass of wine, though your plans are slightly more elaborate than they seem—details she doesn’t need to know about.

“Well, don’t wait up. I’m planning to stay at Jaeyun’s afterwards,” she announces with a gleeful smile. Her infectious joy and the glimmer in her eyes catch the warm light from the lamp beside you, casting a gentle glow over the room.

As she gives a final twirl and heads out the door, leaving the apartment with a high-pitched goodbye, you wait to hear the faint turn of her key in the lock. Once you detect that reassuring click, signalling her definitive departure, you wedge your bookmark in the novel and place it on the side table, promising yourself that you will return to it later; you have another CEO to attend to.

Grasping your glass of crisp wine and your phone, you make your way to your bedroom. The room is softly lit, with fairy lights casting a warm, ambient glow. You place your wine on the nightstand, sitting softly on your bed as you unlock your phone.

A sigh leaves your wine-tainted lips as you open up Instagram, going straight to a certain someone’s page. The same person that has left you so needy all day that you have been counting down the minutes and seconds until you get some alone time.

Park Sunghoon. 

Your boss, Park Sunghoon, who gave you a job as his assistant straight out of Grad school after attending one of his special lectures, the one who has shown you the ropes of the Marketing world and introduced you to important contacts to help you in the future, and the one who makes it insanely difficult to concentrate in any board or business meeting because of how insanely attractive he is.

Sunghoon is a gift from the gods: tall, wealthy, extraordinarily handsome, and incredibly hard to resist. He is admirable and focused, commanding a room in a way you wish he would with you, hoping that the passion and energy he has for the business could somehow translate into a more intimate setting, with you on the receiving end. He has worked tirelessly to build his company from rags to riches, becoming the youngest, highest-grossing CEO in the country, making every Forbes 30 Under 30 list there is. You are immensely grateful for the opportunity to work as his assistant.

That is why what you are about to do feels like a betrayal. Your heart tells you this is wrong, embarking on sinful acts such as this, but it also convinces you that thoughts inside your mind aren’t anything to feel ashamed about, as long as you look and never touch.

And so far, you haven’t ever laid a finger on him, much to your disdain. There have been times when all you can think about is pouncing on him while he sits at his desk, imagining bouncing on his cock until you’re high off his cum and kisses. You envision his white shirts and black ties discarded, your lips all over his toned chest and stomach, hearing him moan your name as you make your way to suck his cock better than any of his socialite flings ever could.

If the assistant and CEO dynamic wasn’t enough to deter you from making your fantasies a reality, the class barrier would be your first hurdle. Sunghoon comes from a world of privilege and status, a realm of luxury and power. Despite your impressive academic achievements and the progress you’ve made in your career, there’s always an underlying awareness of the different worlds you inhabit. You’re 22 and an assistant just starting to work your way up and Sunghoon is a 27-year-old CEO of a multi-million dollar franchise.

You are nowhere near his level.

Yet, the allure of his presence is irresistible. His charisma and the subtle way he looks at you during meetings ignite a forbidden desire within you. The professionalism you maintain in the office is a fragile veneer, concealing the simmering tension and your hidden longing. Each day, you master the art of restraint, keeping your fantasies locked away, only to revisit them in the privacy of your room, where the boundaries of reality and imagination blur.

Scrolling through his Instagram, you hone in on one particular picture, your favourite among them all: his GQ CEO of the Year cover. Maybe it was because you were there when it was taken, seeing him switch poses, flicking his eyebrows up and smirking into the camera, his fingers gripping the edges of his desk as the photographer shouted praises intertwined with instructions. God, how you would do anything to be bent over that table and fucked to oblivion by the man.

You reach into your bedside drawer and retrieve the pretty pink dildo you ordered from Adam & Eve, the size mimicking what you imagine Sunghoon’s looks like: slim but not skinny, long and arched, with a large bell at the end. It’s so wrong to imagine what your boss’ dick looks like, never mind buying a toy specifically to fantasise about him, but you can’t bring yourself to feel guilty about it—not when you’re cumming around it and screaming his name.

Position yourself comfortably, the soft sheets bunch up around you and close your eyes. The fantasy takes over, vivid and tantalising. You picture Sunghoon, his intense gaze locked on you, his hands rough yet tender as they roam your body. The thought of his voice, low and commanding, fills your mind, heightening your arousal.

And you get lost in the fantasy as you look at the picture illuminating your screen.

Pushing down your pyjama shorts, you discard them quickly, your cunt already greedy to be filled. You rub the dildo up and down your slick folds, gathering your natural lubricant as you look at Sunghoon’s stern face on your phone screen, remembering all the times he has reprimanded you for doing something wrong. You never fully took in the severity of the situation, your mind too lost in the lower octave of his tone and how badly you wished to be punished by him.

“Bend over. Now,” he says with venom lacing his tone, the words cutting through his quiet office.

You do as he says, leaning over the desk and hiking up your skirt, eagerly anticipating your retribution. The air is thick with tension as Sunghoon’s body looms close to you, teasing you even with just his presence. Your mind races as his hands situate themselves on your hips, pulling your ass back into him, the action causing your cunt to meet his bulge. The outline of his length protrudes through his Prada slacks, making your pussy ache all over him.

Leaning his body over yours so his chest is pressed firmly against your back, he ghosts his lips over your earlobe. “How many times do I need to tell you to do your job right?” His question is rhetorical, knowing that if you speak, you’ll get an even worse punishment.

His warm breath on your ear sends shivers down your spine, and you feel your core tighten in anticipation. His grip on your hips tightens as he slowly grinds against you, the friction of his bulge against your soaked panties making you whimper. The feeling of his hard cock pressing into you, even through the fabric is intoxicating, and you can’t help but arch your back, pushing yourself closer to him.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice low and taunting. “So desperate for it. Such a needy little slut.”

Before you can respond, he straightens up, his hands leaving your hips, his warm grip now replaced with the cold lingering of want. Without warning, he brings his hand down on your ass with a sharp smack. The sensation is electric, a mix of pain and pleasure that makes you gasp, the sting of the spank sends a jolt of arousal straight to your core, and you bite your lip to stifle a moan.

“Did you like that?” he asks, his tone mocking. He doesn’t wait for an answer as his hand comes down again, harder this time, the sound of the impact echoing in the large office. The force makes you tremble, your skin tingling with the aftershock, your cunt leaking down your leg in sheer joy and agony.

“Yes, sir,” you manage to gasp, the words escaping your lips before you can stop them.

“Good girl,” he purrs, and you feel his hand rub soothing circles over the spot he just spanked, the contrast of his gentle touch against the sting making your body crave more. He is giving you the perfect mixture of punishment and rest, somehow making you crave a spanking more than ever before despite your ass whispering pleas of ‘no more’

Another sharp smack lands on your other cheek, and you can’t hold back the moan that escapes your throat. The pain mingles with pleasure, your pussy throbbing with need. Each hit is harder than the last, and you can feel the heat rising in your skin, the stinging sensation turning into a delicious ache.

“Do you want more?” he asks, his voice dripping with seduction. “Do you want me to punish you properly?”

“Yes, sir,” you reply breathlessly, your body trembling with anticipation. These two words seem to be the only thing that can fall from your lips other than strangled moans and mewls of desire.

He spanks you again, the force making you lurch forward, your hands gripping the edge of the desk for support, the hit vibrating all the way to your throbbing bud. The sharp sting reverberates through your body, intensifying the ache between your legs. You feel yourself getting wetter, your juices dripping down your thighs, hitting the Versace shoes that Sunghoon bought you for a work event.

“Look at you,” he taunts, his voice low and commanding. “So needy, so desperate. You can’t even control yourself, can you?”

“No, sir,” you admit, your voice a whimper. “I need you.”

His hand comes down on your ass again, harder than before, and you cry out, the mix of pain and pleasure overwhelming your senses. You can feel the slickness between your thighs increasing, naturally preparing yourself for what is to come.

“You’re such a good girl,” he murmurs, his hand rubbing soothingly over your reddened skin. “Taking your punishment so well.”

He leans over you again, his lips brushing against your ear. “But we’re not done yet,” he whispers, his voice sending shivers down your spine. “I’m going to make sure you never forget this.”

With that, he draws back and gives another harsh slap, the impact of which causes you to squeal. The cadence of his spanking quickens, each slap sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your skin tingles with each hit, leading to a climax.

“Please, sir,” you beg, your voice trembling. “Please, I need to cum.”

He pauses, his hand resting on your ass. “You need to cum?” he repeats, his tone amused. “Just by my hand?”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, your body trembling with need. “Please, I’ve been a good girl, let me cum.”

He chuckles softly, his hand sliding between your thighs to feel your wetness. “You’re soaked,” he remarks, his fingers teasing your folds. “Such a needy little slut.”

His words send a jolt of arousal through you, and you whimper as he teases your entrance with his fingers. “Don’t you want my cock?” he asks, his voice low and seductive. “Don’t you want me to fuck you?” His words are condescending, knowing that with a few more slaps you’ll be clenching around nothing, yet, he can’t stand to see you cum and it not be around his delicious cock.

“Yes, sir,” you moan, your body aching for his touch, for his dick to be stuffed deep inside you. To be honest, you want anything he will give you. “Please, fuck me.”

Unbuckling his belt and letting his black trousers and boxers fall to his ankles, he positions himself behind you, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. The anticipation is almost too much to bear, and you push back against him, desperate to feel him inside you.

“Patience,” he murmurs, his hands gripping your hips. “I want to take my time with you.”

Finally wet enough to snuggly enter you, the dildo sinks into your cunt as you imagine him sinking in slowly, the wave of pleasure as you stretch around the faux shaft enough to send your head back into a frenzy.

He pushes in slowly, the stretch of his cock filling you inch by inch. The sensation is overwhelming, the tip of his cock sliding past all of your sensitive spots, stimulating your nerves just the way you need him to. You feel every inch of him, the fullness making your body shiver with desire.

“God, you’re tight,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips harder. “You feel so fucking good.”

He begins to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate, each one sending waves of pleasure through your body. The friction of his cock against your inner walls is intoxicating, and you can’t help but moan his name, the sound mingling with the rhythm of his movements.

“Sunghoon,” you gasp, your back contorting to fit him deeper, head thrown back as he bucks his hips at a steady, agonising pace. “Please, fuck me harder.”

Scoffing, he slows down, giving you the opposite of what you are needily begging for. “You think you deserve to make demands?” Sunghoon asks, his hands roaming along your back, fingers untucking your shirt and crawling up to your bare back. You’re lucky he let the slip of his name out of your mouth rather than his preferred nickname.

In truth, you don’t, constantly fucking up in your job to the point that it has come to this, but by god will you never get a single thing right if it means receiving this pleasure. Yet, right now, you need to yield, appeasing his every word.

“I don’t deserve it, Sir,” you admit, trying to fuck onto his cock faster. “But please, I’ll be so good if you do.”

Laughing, his large hand snakes around your neck and pulls you back roughly, bringing your head to rest on his shoulder as he fucks into you agonisingly slow yet sharp. His warm breath washes over your cheek as he smirks menacingly. “You’re already being a good girl, so what else will you do?”

“I’ll do my job properly, I’ll make sure I never disappoint you.” It’s not even the slightest bit embarrassing as you try your hardest to fuck yourself onto his cock, squeezing for extra friction as you bargain with him. All you need right now is to be pounded mercilessly by the man you crave the most.

Satisfied with your response, he finally obliges, his thrusts becoming faster and more intense, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. The pleasure builds with each movement, your body responding eagerly to his touch. You feel the tension coiling in your core, the edge of climax drawing closer with every thrust.

“Do you want to cum on your boss’ cock?” he asks mockingly, knowing your immediate answer. 

You struggle to give him an answer as his grip on your throat tightens, his digits pressing into your soft neck and cutting off your voicebox, yet somehow, you manage to squeak out a tiny ‘yes’, followed by a throat-ripping moan as he finds your sweet spot.

Suddenly, your phone rings as you move your dildo rapidly in and out of your squelching cunt, the toy now covered in your juices as both you and it work hard to reach that sweet release. Heaving heavily, you see the caller ID ring and your eyes widen, the name ‘Park Sunghoon’ flashing across your screen.

Idiotically, you answer, scared of the reprimand if you don’t, your boss never liking when you answer after more than three rings. Before you get the chance to speak, he is already blaring down the phone at you.

“Y/N, I need you to come in early tomorrow. There is a big meeting with Park Jongseong that we must prepare for,” he begins, tone borderline scolding but not so angry. “Someone forgot to put it in my diary.”

The subtle dig at you only heightens your feelings, the actual scolding you’re receiving meshing in beautifully with your fantasies. Your hand never stops the dildo from thrusting harshly into you, his actual voice much colder and deeper than the one you have in your mind, your body aching for each Sunghoon in its own way.

You stifle a moan but it still leaks through into the speaker, your climax imminent as your wrist quickens and legs spread, the muscles of your thighs and arms tightening with your actions.

“Cum for me, baby” he commands, his voice rough with desire. “I want to feel you cum around my cock.”

“Are you sick? Don’t come in tomorrow if you are, I have to fly to Japan on Thursday.” 

Each CEO blends into one another as you come undone, dropping the phone on your stomach and arching your back off the bed.

The words push you over the edge, and you cry out as the orgasm crashes over you, “Yes, Sir!” your body trembling with the force of it. You can feel your pussy clenching around his cock, the sensation driving him deeper into you. His thrusts become erratic, and with a final, deep thrust, he spills into you, filling you with his release. The hot spurts of his cum coat your battered walls so deliciously, soothing the rawness from the relentless beating.

The room is filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing, the aftermath of your climax leaving you both spent and satisfied. Sunghoon pulls out slowly, his hands gentle as they caress your skin. He helps you stand, his touch tender as he pulls you into his arms.

“You did so well,” he murmurs, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Such a good girl.”

You pant heavily, forgetting for a moment exactly where you are and what you have done, the blurred line of delusion and reality becoming a haze as your eyes fight their way open, your high overcoming your body like a tidal wave

Clearing his throat with a deliberate rasp, Sunghoon's piercing gaze cuts through the haze clouding your senses, snapping you back to the stark reality of your surroundings. The weight of your actions descends upon you like a sudden storm, leaving you breathless and disoriented.

"Tomorrow at 6am, my office," he declares with a steely edge, each word measured and exact as he speaks with a smirk. The earlier rush of pleasure now dissipates into a cold knot of apprehension in your stomach. His voice carries a promise of consequences, leaving no doubt in your mind that he knows exactly what you’ve been doing.

"Do not keep me waiting," he continues, his tone low and ominous, "or you'll be punished.”

He hangs up abruptly, the chilling bleep of the disconnected call makes you swallow, realising that you have completely fucked up and have painted yourself guilty as sin.

perm taglist: @immortalvee @snoopypupp @sunpov @heeseungspookie @strawberrysavi @monstanctiny21 @diorsyun @heexzbae @pockettwinzz @yzzyhee @baekhyunstruly @zeeloveshee @haechonly @berryblog @emi-en @no-mannerism @jaehoonii @notevenheretbh1 @iikeustar @shawnyle @addictedtohobi @jiminie-08 @emberuby @nctislifue @lilyuwon @skzenhalove @heeshlove @idkdykilr @chocminteu @y4wnjunz @rikibun @ivesti @parksunghoonsgf @branchrkive @brownsugarbaybee @xxbluestrifexx @bambangan

[yuamin]

ORORUN REDRAW GUIDE !

i think we’ve all seen the atrocity that is genshin’s unreleased character, ororun. the entirety of natlan is a mess really, but as a yoruba person myself i CANNOT keep quiet about ororun specifically.

outside yoruba mythology, in yoruba, ‘Olorun’ (the name ororun is based on, pronounced o-law-roon , with o pronounced as in orange and the ‘roon’ pronounced shortly, not dragged on at all) is actually the same word we often use to refer to God in Christianity. Christianity is the primary religion among us yorubas so honestly, i was kinda glad they misspelled his name. it would feel SO disrespectful referring to whatever that thing is with the same word we use to refer to God who we actually worship. religion aside, genshin’s depiction of Olorun (cultural god, not Christian one) is downright disgusting. i’d never paid too much attention to genshin and its poor representation, but now that my culture has fallen victim to it, i completely understand all the outrage.

edit: please note that while we use ‘Olorun’ to refer to the Christian God, Olorun is just a general word for ‘god’ itself ! for example if i say “God in heaven” and “god of thunder” we know i’m referring to two different beings, in yoruba it’s the kind of the same—the same word is used to refer to both the Christian and other gods, but we know it’s different, even though olorun can be capitalized regardless of what god we’re talking about (unlike english where the Christian God is capitalized and other gods aren’t) at the end of the day though, when we say “olorun” even without context, we are usually referring to the christian God !

1. PLEASE DO NOT DRAW HIM WITH ANIMAL EARS !

i’ve noticed that hoyoverse has this nasty habit of portraying every dark skinned character as wild or animal-esque. kaeya seems to be the only exception to this. even xinyan, though lacking any animal features, has this wild energy to her. some might call it a stretch, but i feel like her features are pretty feline in comparison to other liyue characters.

Olorun in our culture is the supreme god of the heavens. In my opinion, it is disrespectful to liken him to something akin to an animal. normally i wouldn’t even mind that much, but with how hoyo makes its few dark characters more and more like animals, i can’t help but feel weird about it. its really off putting.

2. HIS HAIR WOULD NOT BE CURLY !

majority of nigerians have 4C HAIR. not wavy hair or loose curls. some have 4B, but 4C is the usual here, that is, kinky or coily hair. Olorun is often portrayed as bald in traditional art, but trust me if he had hair his hair would resemble his people’s, not Tyla’s.

DREADLOCKS ARE A YES ! outside nigeria, locking hair is pretty common, but in nigeria a lot of people have locks naturally. our hair sometimes just grows out that way, no treatment no nothing. dreads are 100% an appropriate style, they look good asf too.

3. PLEASE USE CULTURAL FABRICS IN YOUR DESIGNS !

when i saw ororun’s outfit, i almost started crying. they couldn’t even bother to dress him up a little. they really dressed my brother in a scarf and cape and called it a day 😭 upon how fashionable we nigerians are know to be, hoyoverse still made it their mission to embarrass us stylistically. God knows my people have suffered man 😭

ankara is a traditional nigerian fabric that features bright colors and lots of patterned designs. see below:

here in 9ja, we love our ankara. it’s a big part of our fashion here and trust me it would look excellent in your designs. it’s perfectly fine to draw ororun in normal fabrics since he’s a deity and it’s not like ankara existed back then, but if you really want to represent nigeria, ankara is a must 🙏

i’m going to address another fashion piece because if you search up nigerian fashion you’ll see it a lot: beads.

these orange beads are igbo (another tribe here in nigeria) NOT yoruba. does this mean you can’t use it in olorun’s design ? no ! let me explain. tbh, here in nigeria there’s a bit of...tension between clans. it’s not that common, but older people are definitely a lot more tribalist. as a yoruba i love my igbo brothers and sisters, i truly believe they’re the most fashionable clan and i adore their festivities, they always go over the top. please, just look at them:

(only one image because of image caps, ugh)

anyway, we yorubas wear beads too. but the specific way the beads are worn around the head and in multiple layers round the neck is igbo, not yoruba. though i personally wouldn’t care too much if i saw olorun with igbo beads since all i want is for him to at least look nigerian, at the end of the day he is a yoruba deity. it might be disrespectful to dress the god of one clan as if he belongs to another, especially since there is so much historical ( and very slight but uncommon present ) day tension between both clans.

here’s a more yoruba outfit. sorry yall, it might be hard for you to distinguish if you’re not yoruba or igbo, but a lot of nigerians can tell the difference at a glance. ( actually nowadays, there is so much overlap between yoruba and igbo fashion, but there are many specific styles that may be associated with one tribe and not the other, for example how beads are worn in the above paragraph ) please do your research, he’s not only a nigerian god, but a yoruba one.

one more thing, because i know it will start discourse : skin tone.

nigerians have a very diverse range of skin tones. some of us are so pale, if not for our afrocentric features we could maybe pass for another race. however, ororun is yoruba.

light skinned nigerians are usually igbo. not to say that yorubas can’t be light skin, but here in nigeria if you saw a light skinned person, we’d automatically assume they were igbo. igbo people usually have lighter skin tones. majority of yorubas fall on the more milk to dark chocolate end of the skin tone spectrum. i’m saying this now because i know a lot of people are going to start arguments over ororun being redrawn as ‘too light’ or ‘too dark.’ i don’t really care about complexion, but i thought i’d help you all get your facts right.

that’s it ! if you read all this i’m super thankful. i don’t usually post about this kind of stuff but i honestly love my country and could go on about it for days. nigeria is such a beautiful place with a diverse range of cultures— from hausas to fulanis to so many more. natlan was supposed to be Africa’s time to shine, as well as latin americans, but hoyoverse said fuck you and your people. they did this to an extent with sumeru but natlan was done straight up dirty—not a single melanated character in sight, and the only one who does have melanin, iansan, looks so desaturated you might as well call her grey. i saw someone on tiktok call mualani a dark skinned character—it was at that point that i knew genshin was done for.

please REBLOG this post so it reaches more people and artists in the fandom !! this is literally the third time i’m making this post because tumblr refuses to show it in the tags for some reason 😭 i encourage other cultures who feel misrepresented to make posts like this too. it’s a perfect opportunity to educate and inform people about the diverse cultures genshin has once again failed to represent properly.

Hoyo has never been one to make customer satisfaction their top priority, but we’ve been able to call them out before and i truly believe we can do it again. Natlan is not poor design choice. it is blatant racism, a nation based on POC ethnicities with not a single colored character insight. Hoyoverse has been able to escape racism accusations for as long as i can remember, but natlan is the icing on the cake. we CANNOT allow hoyo to proceed as planned without giving them the appropriate backlash.

Also, if you redraw ororun using this guide, make sure to tag me here or on my main blog, @heartkaji !! i’d love to see all your redesigns. once again, thank you all for reading and have an amazing day !!

[rubycruzin4abruzin]

we can’t be friends

Summary: Hazel, who has a giant crush on you, gets paired with you for a class project. She’s convinced you could never like her back because she thinks you’re straight, what happens when she’s proven wrong?

Pairing: Hazel Callahan x Fem!reader

Contains: mature language and content, hurt/comfort, smut, fingering (both receiving), oral, scissoring kinda, floor sex, loser!hazel, dom!hazel, fem!reader, sub!reader, 18+, MDNI

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: (loosely) based off the song We Can’t Be Friends by Ariana Grande, and requested by anonymous. Requests are still open for Hazel Callahan and Kit Tanthalos! Enjoy!

———

Hazel stared at you from across the classroom, a deep longing in her eyes. Mr. G was rambling something about 9/11 and how it somehow pertained to his divorce but she wasn’t absorbing a word of his lecture. All her attention was focused on you.

PJ noticed Hazel’s obvious sense of distraction and rolled her eyes. “It’s never gonna happen, Hazel.”

Hazel’s face fell slightly as she looked down at her lap. “You don’t know that…” she mumbled.

“I do, actually. My gaydar is perfect, and she…” PJ motioned her head towards you. “…is not.”

Hazel's head shot straight up to look at PJ. “Weren’t you the one who thought Brittany was gay?”

PJ scoffed. “Ok? So my gaydar had a malfunction. It’s fine now, and trust me. You do not occupy that pretty little head of hers.” She shot a pointed look at Hazel. “She doesn’t want you. She wants a boyfriend. With a penis.”

A sad puppy dog look covered Hazel’s face as she turned back to look at you. You certainly did have a pretty little head, with long silky hair falling over your shoulders, perfectly framing your face. Maybe it was because Hazel had little to no experience with makeup, but she always thought yours was flawless, with your eyeshadow consistently color coordinated with your outfits. Today it was hot pink to match your miniskirt and pink pumps, paired with fishnets and a black tank top with writing on it that Hazel couldn’t quite make out.

You took a break from taking notes to reach into your backpack and find your lipgloss, carefully reapplying a layer. A dopey smile formed on Hazel’s face as she watched the sparkly pink solution trace your lips, wondering how it would taste against her own. PJ rolled her eyes once again. “Get over it, Hazel.”

Before Hazel could even open her mouth to respond, the sound of Mr. G’s voice echoed across the room, turning everyone’s attention to the front. He was going on about some new partner project, Hazel could barely focus. She soon, however, perked up when he mentioned your name.

“You’re partnered with Hazel.” He finished.

Hazel’s heart leapt into her throat. She turned to look at you, and you met her gaze with a bright smile. She offered an awkward nod back, and quickly looked away.

Mr. G soon finished with the list of partners and the bell rang to signify the end of class. PJ walked out with Josie, who could be heard panicking over being partnered with Isabel. Hazel was packing up her stuff for her next class when she saw a figure out of the corner of her eye. She looked up to see you standing over her desk, a glossy grin spread across your face. “Hey Hazel.”

Hazel tried to swallow, but found her mouth was completely dry. She managed to squeak out a low “…hey.”

“Looks like we’re partners for this assignment. I wanted to ask if you maybe wanted to work on it after school? Today?” You brushed a lock of hair out of your face, making Hazel wish she could do it for you.

She licked her dry lips and nodded enthusiastically. “Sure.”

You pressed your phone into Hazel’s shaking hands and you both exchanged numbers before “bye’s” and “see you later’s.” Throughout the rest of the day, it was agreed over text that you would meet at your locker after school before heading to Hazel’s house to work on the project. You had originally suggested your place, but after Hazel mentioned her mom being out of town on business, you were all for meeting at her’s instead.

When the last bell rang, Hazel ran to the bathroom and spent fifteen minutes fussing over her hair, trying to get it to swoop just the right way. Unfortunately, PJ’s voice saying “she’s not gay, it’s never gonna happen” rang through her head. After deciding it just wasn’t worth it then, she gave up and dejectedly made her way over to your locker.

You were already there waiting for her, and seeing you lean against your locker in the empty hallway made Hazel’s heart flutter. You looked just as perfect as you had earlier today (except Hazel could’ve sworn you had pulled your black tank top just a little farther down). You noticed her approaching you, and flashed her a bright smile.

“Hey Hazel, ready to go?” You asked. Hazel nodded. “Sure.”

“Great! I’m excited to be paired with you. I’m sure after this project we’ll become great friends.” You lifted your hand to squeeze Hazel’s upper arm, but she couldn’t feel it over the pang in her chest. Your words swam around in her mind.

“Great friends…” she didn’t want to be your friend. She wanted to be more. She wanted to be the one to laugh with you, and hold you when you cried. She wanted to take you out on dates, and slow dance with you at prom. She wanted you to look up at her with your big doe eyes right before you kiss her, and wrap your arms around her shoulders to pull her closer while she savored the taste of your signature lip gloss. She wanted to touch you. God how she wanted to touch you…

But she couldn’t. She couldn’t do any of that. Not if you were too busy making goo-goo eyes at some football player.

You wanted to be friends. Hazel wanted you… but more than anything she wanted you in her life. If being friends was the only way to do that, then so be it.

—————

The drive to Hazel’s house was pretty much silent, minus a few attempts at small talk from you. Hazel made a few attempts to respond, but mainly kept her focus on the grip of her steering wheel and the road ahead.

Hazel turned into her driveway, and walked you through her front door, up the stairs, and into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her. She motioned for you to sit next to her on the floor, and got out her pencils and the project rubric. After about five minutes of complete silence, Hazel’s head shot up. “Snacks!”

You looked up from the rubric in confusion. “What?”

“Snacks! I forgot to offer you snacks when we came in. Shit, I’m sorry! I’m a terrible host.” Hazel panicked. You had to stifle a giggle under your hand. Somehow, Hazel was being so adorable right now.

“It’s ok, Hazel. I’m not hungry. I promise.” Hazel rubbed the back of her neck as a faint shade of red crept up on her cheeks.

“Sorry. You just…” Hazel trailed off. You cocked your head in question. “I… what?”

“You just… sometimes you make me nervous…” Hazel mumbled, staring down at her lap.

Your lips parted slightly in shock at her confession. “I make you nervous?”

“Look… just forget I said anything.” Hazel picked the project rubric back up. “So, do you have any idea what this project is supposed to be on? I wasn’t really paying attention…”

You pulled the rubric out of Hazel’s hands and tossed it to the side, forcing her to look at you. “I’m not gonna forget what you said. Hazel, how do I make you nervous?”

A defeated sigh left Hazel’s lips as she realized you weren’t going to give this up. She squeezed her eyes shut, choking out your name before her next words. “I’m sorry but… we can’t be friends.”

It took a moment for you to process Hazel’s words, but as soon as you did, your face crumpled out of hurt. You were trying not to cry, but you couldn’t decide if it was from hurt or confusion. “What do you mean?”

“We can’t be friends.” Hazel repeated, refusing to make eye contact with you. “Whenever I’m around you, my hands get all sweaty and my mouth gets dry, and I can barely get any words out because… I don’t know. You do this thing to me. I can’t focus in class because all I can think about is how pretty you are and what flavor your lip gloss is and…”

Hazel’s incessant rambling was interrupted by the feeling of something wet and sticky against her cheek. She blinked, trying to process what just happened.

You kissed her. On the cheek.

A faint blush crept onto her face as she lifted her hand to feel where your kiss still lingered. She finally met your gaze to see you staring back at her, a giddy smile covering your face.

“You kissed me.”

You brushed another lock out of your face and smiled down at your lap. “Yeah. I did.”

“But I’m not a boy.”

You shot your head up and gaped at her, bewildered. Did you hear her correctly?

“Huh? I know…” you trailed off as realization set into you. “You think I’m straight?”

“Well, yeah. You’re all like… feminine and stuff…” Hazel mumbled, clearly embarrassed.

A thick silence filled the room as you stared at her, wide eyed. Hazel held her breath and refused to look at you. She thought for sure she fucked up before she heard… laughter?

Hazel looked up to see you in absolute stitches from laughing so hard. On one hand, she was glad you didn’t seem mad at her, but on the other… she really had no idea what you were laughing at.

After a moment, you calmed down, and stuck out one of your wrists to show Hazel a pink, white, and orange threaded bracelet. “Trust me, I’m not straight. And this…” you gestured to your outfit. “…is called hyperfem, and it’s actually meant to deter the male population.”

Several thoughts swirled around Hazel’s mind. Some “fuck PJ” or “how did I not notice the bracelet?” But mostly, all she could think about was how you were sitting in front of her, out and proud, in an empty house, and beaming from ear to ear.

You giggled at Hazel’s astonished expression and looked down at your lap. “I was kind of wondering why you had never talked to me before. Guess I know now.”

Hazel gulped. “I’m sorry, I…”

Suddenly, you decided to cut her off by tossing all the papers between you to the side, and crawling over to her lap. You put one hand on her knee and brought your face as close to hers as you could without touching. Hazel’s breath hitched at this new position, and you hummed as your eyes dropped to her lips. “Now that you know I’m gay… what do you plan to do about it?”

It took a moment for your words to settle into Hazel’s mind, but as soon as they did, she brought her face forward and kissed you, melting instantly at your touch. Her stomach filled with butterflies as she shivered from the pure adrenaline. She couldn’t believe how soft your lips were, and the taste of your lipgloss felt absolutely intoxicating.

You pulled away suddenly, smirking as Hazel whined at the loss of your touch. “So… what flavor is my lip gloss?”

Hazel hummed in thought, running the tip of her tongue across her bottom lip. “Watermelon?”

“Bingo.”

A devilish grin spread across Hazel’s face before she grabbed your jaw and pulled you back in, forcing you to tuck your knee into her lap to keep balance. Her tongue danced against your bottom lip, begging for entrance. A small giggle escaped from the back of your throat as you parted your lips and let her deepen the kiss.

Hazel’s hand left your jaw and slowly made its way down to gently caress the thigh you still had perched in her lap. You felt your body shiver at this new sensation, causing Hazel to pull away and survey your reaction.

“Is this ok?” She asked in a low voice. You nodded, your half-lidded eyes clouded with lust. “Please.”

Hazel caught your lips in hers again, and gripped at your fishnet-clad thigh. You moaned at the feeling of her fingertips caressing your nearly-bare skin. You had no idea your thighs could be so sensitive, but here you were, falling apart at her literal fingertips.

By now you were mentally begging Hazel to push her hand up just a little higher, so you grabbed the chain around her neck and pulled her close until you were on your back and she was hovering over you. Her big blue eyes looked like pools you were dying to swim in as she peered down at you with a look of nothing but content.

You dragged your top teeth against your bottom lip and giggled. “Tell me again how pretty I am?”

Hazel smirked as she continued to rub her thumb along the inside of your thigh. “So pretty. Like a princess.”

Your body involuntarily shivered at this new nickname, and Hazel found it impossible not to notice. “Oh, you like that? Princess?”

A muffled moan vibrated against your puffy pink lips in response. Fuck, when did Hazel get so… dominant?

She ran her hand just under the edge of your tank top, looking up at you for approval. You nodded, and she got to work pulling it up and over your head, leaving your stomach exposed and your chest covered with nothing but a black lace bralette. Hazel gulped at the sight of you, her spontaneous dominance momentarily leaving her. She swore she had never seen anything this beautiful. She leaned down again to kiss you once, softly and sweetly, before slowly leaving a trail of kisses to your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, and down to the top of your breasts.

Hazel’s big blue eyes stared up at you as she ran her tongue across the top of one of your tits, gently testing the waters. You let out a gentle moan, purely from the eroticism of it all. You swore you could cum just from looking into Hazel’s fuck me eyes.

“Hazel,” you breathed out, sitting up slightly to lean on your elbows. “You can take it off.”

A nervous look clouded Hazel’s features for a brief moment before being replaced by one dark with desire. “Whatever you want, Princess.”

God, you could feel yourself get wetter every time she used that stupid nickname.

Getting your bra off wasn’t necessarily a fast and flawless task for Hazel, as she was used to the simplicity of sports bras rather than the confusing clasps of a bralette. Luckily, you both had a good sense of humor about it, which made the situation far less awkward. Eventually, Hazel opted to just pull it over your head like a t-shirt, tossing it over her shoulder immediately after.

Hazel never thought she’d see the day where she’d have the Popular Princess of Rockbridge High’s tits practically served to her on a silver platter, but here they were, exposed in all their glory, and hers for the taking. She took one of your nipples in her mouth, running her tongue along the erect bud as she used her hand to gently massage the other. It felt incredible, but as much as you loved watching Hazel Callahan play with your tits, there was another part of you that was much more desperate to be played with.

Your hips involuntarily bucked against Hazel’s stomach, forcing her to pull away and click her tongue disapprovingly. “So impatient. Never took you for a sub.”

“Never took you for a dom.” You fired back, surprisingly quickly considering how mushy your brain felt.

Hazel simply shrugged and flashed a wicked grin. “Guess you do something to me.”

She slipped one hand down to the waistband of your skirt and started to undo your belt buckle until it was loose enough for her to slide it down your legs. Her fingers danced along your now completely exposed fishnets while she plucked at the delicate little strings.

“Funny,” she started, gently pulling at the thin threads. “If you weren’t wearing anything under these, I would totally keep them on while I fucked you.”

Her blunt choice of words sent palpitations straight to your clit, forcing a shiver down the length of your entire body. She either didn’t notice or pretended not to because she just shrugged. “Too bad you are. Gotta take them off.”

In a way, you were grateful for the black panties you had worn under your fishnets. Watching Hazel undress you to any capacity was a bigger turn on than anything any porn site had to offer. You made a mental note to wear more clothes next time.

By now you were down to nothing but the aforementioned silky black panties. Hazel moved her hand back to your thigh, rubbing her thumb along the inside teasingly. She reached up and allowed her finger to gently brush over the tiny crease where your leg ended and your panties began, looking up at you for affirmation before continuing.

You sighed, rolling your bottom lip between your front teeth. “Please Hazel. Please touch me.”

Hazel’s stomach couldn’t help but flutter every time one of your desperate pleas hit her ears, but she tried not to let it show. Still, it was difficult to ignore the dampness in her boxers, thankfully still hidden by her shorts. On the other hand, your panties were on full display, the black color managing to hide your wet spot from Hazel’s vision, but failing to keep your secret when she dragged her finger up your clothed cunt.

“Holy shit.” Hazel muttered under her breath. “So fucking wet already?”

You were far too turned on to even begin to respond to her taunts, opting instead to raise your hips and signify Hazel to take off your panties. Hazel, however, had other plans. She continued to stroke the length of your covered cunt, enjoying watching your hips stutter every time she so much as grazed your clit.

As much as you loved the cloth friction rubbing against your slit, the growing pool of wetness that resulted was beginning to make you feel suffocated. You lifted your hips to chase her touch, moaning with desperation. Hazel smirked, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“Patience, pretty girl. I can’t do anything until you tell me what you want.”

Hazel’s finger picked at the waistband of your panties, while her darkened eyes stared down at you. You struggled to speak, your brain far too mushy to form a complete sentence. How in the hell were you this fucked out, and Hazel had barely touched you?

“P-please Haze… I need you mph… take them off…”

Another wicked grin appeared on Hazel's face as she leaned down again to praise your obedience. “Such a good girl.”

Her mouth latched onto your jaw as her fingers curled over the top of your waistband. You raised your hips, and Hazel pulled off your panties in one quick motion.

Now that you were completely exposed, you felt completely exposed, which wasn’t necessarily the most comfortable feeling. Your legs began to shut involuntarily, catching the attention of the girl hovered above you.

Her eyes went wide as she crawled off of you and put her hands up. “Hey, woah, are you ok? Do you wanna stop? I’m sorry! I should have checked in more. We can stop if you want. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

Hazel’s sudden transition out of her dominant alter ego caught you off guard. Still though, you couldn’t help but melt a little. She was being so sweet, making sure you were ok, you almost felt a little bad for her. You didn’t mean to freak her out.

You sheepishly smiled up at her, a little embarrassed. “I’m fine. Really. It’s just a little weird being the only one naked is all.”

Hazel blinked at you, processing your words. Almost like a lightbulb went off in her head, she jumped up and practically tore all the clothing off her body, throwing each piece over her shoulder as soon as it was off. You couldn’t help but notice a string of arousal momentarily connecting her slick to her boxers, breaking only after she slid them down her legs.

Hazel’s body read like a painting, with each brush stroke precisely positioned to perfect the masterpiece. Her wetness glistened from in between her legs, and you couldn’t help but admire the beauty standing before you. However, you didn’t get to admire for long, as Hazel was already repositioning herself over you.

“Better?” She asked.

You sighed. “Definitely.”

Hazel immediately got to work trailing kisses down your body while thumbing through the folds of your slit. Soft moans echoed from your lips every time she’d slightly dip into your entrance for some more lubricant, and then frustrated groans would roll out whenever she immediately pulled out. God, she had access to every part of you and still managed to be such a tease.

Eventually, Hazel kissed her way down to your pelvic bone, hovering her face just over where you wanted her the most. Her hot breath tickled your dripping wet folds, making you tremble with anticipation. She stuck out her tongue and gently kitten-licked your clit to gauge your reaction, staring up at you as she did. A soft whimper left your throat, causing a smug smirk to form on Hazel’s face. Starting to gain some confidence back, she locked eyes with you and slowly licked up the entire length of your cunt, from your entrance all the way to the hood of your clit. You whined, throwing your head back against the carpet.

“Feel good?” Hazel asked, not bothering to wait for your response as she already knew the answer.

Hazel dived into you like a starved woman, lapping up your slick like it contained the very thing she needed to survive. Broken moans fell from your parted lips as you desperately grasped at her hair, trying to keep her exactly where you wanted her. Your hips bucked against her face, a part of you dying to see her features covered in your juices.

Her name found its way out of your mouth, almost involuntarily. “Hazel I… mph… fuck…”

“Fuck yeah. I love it when you say my name, pretty girl.” Hazel exclaimed, eyes rolling in the back of her head. You groaned. Dominant Hazel could have very easily put you into cardiac arrest, you were pretty sure.

The feeling of Hazel’s tongue against your engorged clit was hypnotizing, but your entrance was also twitching for attention. You wanted, no, you needed her inside you.

You grabbed Hazel’s hair and pulled it to lift her off you. She started to whine at the loss of your taste, but quickly looked up at you to make sure you were alright. “Everything ok, princess?”

“Hazel, I… I wanna ride your fingers. Please.” You panted breathlessly.

Hazel’s body shifted at your bold choice of words before a dark desire clouded her face again. “Of course.”

She reached up and crashed her lips against yours again, the taste of your own pussy still lingering on her tongue and coating your mouth in the most arousing way. You both readjusted to where she was on her back and you were now hovering over top of her. She adjusted her right hand in the “come here” position with her middle and ring fingers standing, and rested it in the middle of her thigh.

“All yours, honey.” She looked up at you with a goofy smile and half lidded eyes.

You positioned your entrance over her fingertips, shifting slightly before sliding down onto her knuckles. Hazel's fingers curled to hit your g-spot, forcing your head to fall back with a throaty groan.

“Feel good, gorgeous?” Another one of Hazel’s praises fell from her lips.

“Fuck Hazel, those nicknames are gonna kill me…” you whined.

Hazel smirked. “Oh yeah, you like that? Gorgeous? Pretty girl? My princess?”

As you were drinking in Hazel’s sweet nothings and riding her long fingers, your eyes fell down to her lap. Her exposed cunt glistened with her own arousal, dripping down her thighs and onto your carpet. A wicked idea popped into your head, and you couldn’t help but smirk.

Your hand traveled down to the folds of Hazel's slick, forcing the brunette beauty underneath you to jump at the sudden touch. “Honey, what are you…”

“Is this ok?” You asked softly. Hazel nodded quickly, realizing what you were getting at. You hastily licked your fingers and slid them into her twitching cunt.

Hazel moaned at the feeling of your fingers inside her. “Fuck, baby. Feels so good. So good to me.”

The longer you bounced on Hazel’s hand, the more you felt that familiar tight feeling in your abdomen. “Hazel, I’m…”

“Yeah… mph… me too.” She managed to whisper under her breath.

Hazel positioned her thumb to rub against your clit, forcing your body to tremble in sputtered shocks. You curled your palm to stimulate her clit, and you could tell she was almost as close as you were.

“Hazel, can we… mph… cum together?” You asked, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth.

The brunette underneath you was already starting to fall apart. “Fuck baby… so close… let go… I’ll follow… yeah?”

You rolled your hips against her, using your free hand to position her wrist where you needed her to touch you. Your hips sputtered, your core tightened, your clit throbbed. “Hazel, I… mph fUCK!”

Your head rolled back as you let out a sound so primal, you weren’t even sure it was sexy. Hazel soon followed, her groans and whimpers reverberating around the room as her hips sputtered under you. You rode out your climaxes together, the erotic sounds of sex disappearing into the nearly empty house.

Hazel couldn’t believe it. Not only was her longtime crush gay, not only was she fucking you, but she had just given you a mind-blowing orgasm at the same time you gave her one. Fuck, the very thought almost made her cum a second time.

You rolled off of her, and snuggled into her chest while she wrapped her arm around you. “Wow…”

“That was… unexpected…” Hazel muttered breathlessly.

You giggled. “Yeah, no kidding.”

A comfortable silence filled the room, both of you just enjoying the presence of the other, the project from before long forgotten.

You looked up at her, planting a soft kiss on her jaw. “Still think we can’t be friends?”

“I think we’re a little more than friends now.” Hazel chuckled.

Your heart fluttered at her suggestion. “Yeah? You want to?”

“I mean, yeah, if you want to.”

You nodded, snuggling back into her chest, close to falling asleep after so much activity. Hazel continued to stare up at the ceiling, a goofy grin plastered across her features.

“PJ is gonna lose her mind after this.”

[sacharinee]

pairing: bestfriend!peter parker x fem!reader

sypnosis: after peter misses his chance to ask you out to the homecoming dance, he has to suffer the consequences of his own actions

wc: 1200+

a/n: hiii!! i have the urge to write again bc im bored and i dont wanna do my summer course work. this prompt is based on this post and loosely based on that one scene in the movie ladybird when she gets picked up by her date. i wrote this super quickly so not the best but i hope u enjoy :)

peter had it first. he had the idea, the flowers, the poster, your favorite chocolate strawberries all ready for you. until brad davis came in and stole everything. 

now he has nothing. he’s on your bed munching on the melty strawberries as he watches you get ready for the dance; you’ve asked for his help in choosing which dress you should go for. 

“okay how ‘bout this one, pete?” the boy glances up at you, mid-chew with his mouth open. 

his eyes snake over the outfit you’ve chosen. you do a swift twirl to show off the pretty soft blue satin dress that falls down to your mid-thigh with an open back. the skirt of your dress rides a bit high revealing a little too much. peter gulps, running his hands down his legs, immediately your sweet honey perfume floods his senses, his brain feels a little fuzzy, and he thinks the room gets smaller while his pants get a tiny bit tighter.

however, your eyes are what he takes in the most. you look eager, nervous about his approval, and hopeful for his admission.

his eyes widen as he gives you a soft nod and a pursed smile, “super pretty.”

you stare back at peter, his hair is flared, and you see chocolate smeared on his bottom lip. his posture looks defeated and you can’t help but wonder what’s wrong with him.

you give him a sour yet confused face, “why is your face like that?”

peter’s eyebrows furrow at your expression, “my face- why is my face like what?” 

“like…” you take a moment to think, “like- you look like that chef in that one movie with the rat, he’s got that same awkward funny looking face.”

peter barks out a laugh in disbelief, “alfredo linguini?? from ratatouille?!” “yea! that guy.” 

the boy in front of you offers you a pout and rubs his eyes, “thanks.”

“sure thing.” peter glazes over your seamless makeup when you take a seat next to him, “so, you’re really not coming? why not? it’ll be fun, plus all of our friends are going” you whine. 

peter kicks himself every day since you got asked out to homecoming by brad. he knows he should have made his proposal to you sooner, but now that he missed his chance, he feels like he’s lost you. 

“oh, so brad’s our friend now? and nah, it’s alright. i’m just gonna go patrolling tonight, might get some good action.” his eyebrows suggestively 

 you muster up a smirk and breathe out a laugh, “right. maybe you’ll find your own ‘cupid of crime’ that’ll show you a good time.” 

peter groans at you, “oh my god, margot robbie is so-”

honk!

“oh,” your ears perk up at the sudden interruption, “i guess that’s my date.” you quickly stand up and straighten your dress, taking nervous breaths. 

“i’m good right? my dress? face? hair?” your fingers run through your shiny locks, “its- i’m, i’m okay?”

peter has an indiscernible look plastered on his face as he gazes out the window and back at you. he’s shocked you’d settle for this, and even more appalled at you’re excitement to go with a douchebag who can’t even meet you at the front door. he knows you deserve better than this, and he knows he would treat you so much better with much less than your date. his stomach turns upside down and he feels his face get hot, breathing through his nostrils as he struggles to control his disbelief. he slowly stands up and meets your anxious expression peering up at him.

“you aren’t gonna get in a car with a guy who honks, are you?” 

it’s almost as if the entire atmosphere shifts. peter studies your appearance. your face shimmered sanguinely regardless, brighter than the glitter that sparkled atop your eyelids.

it was safe to say you were excited to go to the dance, even if your date wasn’t your first choice. you had been waiting endlessly for peter to ask you to homecoming. you were almost depressed at the thought thinking your crush didn’t like you back, but even more upset at the fact that your best friend didn’t even want to take you as his date, romantically or not. 

you remembered the feeling of delight swirling through your body as betty gushed about ned asking her to the dance, and mj agreeing to harry’s proposal. 

you only wanted the same for yourself. the same thrill and warm feeling of someone wanting to take you as their date. you wanted more than anything for it to be peter, but you figured he simply didn’t think of you like that as empty time and hopeless anticipation went by. so yes, you did settle for brad davis. he’s only ever been sweet to you, with harmless flirting and sultry smiles in the halls. plus you had a hunch about peter’s displeasing stance on the man, and presumed this may have tipped peter over just the right amount. 

you simply blink at his desperate eyes and nod, your adamant expression not wavering, “i think, yes, i am.”

you offer him a wistful smile when you brush past him, grabbing your purse on the way.

“y/n, stop.” peter’s finger’s wrap around your small wrist, your charm bracelet dangling against his hand.

“are you serious? what, the shithead can’t walk a few feet and knock on the door like a real man?”

“peter!” you snatch your wrist back and his hands rise.

you feel heat rushing up your neck and settling behind your ears. you had wanted a reaction out of peter when brad asked you out, yes, but the entitlement he has to mention about the manhood of brad angered you.

“i’m just saying,” he steps back from you, licking his dry lips while he chuckles back at you. “a guy who doesn’t have the balls to greet you at your doorstep isn’t worth falling for.” 

you scoff at him, he was so sweet and now he’s only taking his anger out on you. “well it’s a good thing that he’s just a friend then. what’s it to you anyways?”

peter disregards your last statement, “a friend?! y/n/n, listen to me. you’re being naive if you think he just wants to be your friend.”

another honk outside pierces your ears, yet you can’t seem to shake your stare on the boy before you. you narrow your eyes at him.

“you sound jealous.”

peter sputters nonsense out and breaks his eyesight away from you, nervously running his hands through his curls.

“jealous? me? pfft. never. i’m not jealous, i’m- i’m being absolutely reasonable.”

you keep your eyes on him as he looks down at the carpet floor. he sighs and drops down at your chair, scratching the wood on your desk. his head shakes and ever so softly murmurs, “seriously, why are you going out with him?”

peter continues to stare at the rotten wood he’s chipping, “brad asked me to be his date, so i’m going whether you like it or not. unless,” peter glances back up at you.

“there’s something you’re not telling me.”

hope bubbles down in your stomach, and you anticipate his confession, waiting to hear the words of his true feelings that you know for certain are deep down inside him.

except, he doesn’t.

the boy only blankly stares at your desk, clenching his jaw, and drowns everything inside, letting you down yet another time. you turn away, disappointed in peter, ready to leave him alone for all the false hope and hurt he has caused you. 

“right, well, when your balls finally drop, let me know. i’ll be at the dance with my date.” 

[pombeom]

okay never rlly done this before but here me out, txt fic inspired by "guess" by charli xcx and billie eilish. i dont have a member preference but i based it on tae (›´ω`‹ ) HERE ME OUT roomatetyunx reader. txt and reader's friend group decide to go out for dinner/clubbing. reader has secretly been liking tae for a WHILE, and THIS WAS THE NIGHT. and reader puts on a very VERY short skirt/dress (they know what they were doing) and purposely leans down when tae is behind them *evil laughs*

(also imagined it as afab but idrc)

sorry i dont have anything else to add but you now have the reins (๑˘ꇴ˘๑)

guess | taehyun fic (nsfw)

nsfw, mdni!

pairings: domroommate!taehyun x subtease!reader

warnings: soobin present at the start, lots of mentions of underwear, teasing, fingering, scissoring, wall sex, creampie, squirting, messy sex, taehyun is kinda kinky, panty stuffing, mentions of exhibitionism, they both have sex while standing up, taehyun gives orders and reader follows, nicknames (baby, slut), unprotected sex, lots of dirty talking, am i forgetting something??

a/n: thank you so much for your request! decided to go with taehyun cos i could envision your request so clearly. you guys are such teases istg but im all here for it 🤧

Being Taehyun’s roommate isn’t for the weak. The way he’s come back after his daily workouts in his compression shirts with his hair pushed back made your knees quiver every time he would walk in through the door. You swore it was a secret you guarded with your life but everyone around you seemed to know of your little crush. Your friends managed to catch on as soon as they witnessed your head swivel whenever he’d walk past, staring a little too longingly in his direction. 

“Y/n you should just tell him at this point. I can’t watch you drool over him any longer, it’s gross,” Soobin advises you on your way out from class. 

“No but what if doesn’t feel the same way?” 

“Trust me. He does. And if he doesn’t then that’s his loss. I’ll bag you up if he doesn’t want you,” his wink had you reacting with a disgusted scowl.

“Anyway, we’re meeting up for dinner this Saturday. One of our friends has had to cancel last minute so there’s an extra space in the reservation. Wanna come? Taehyun’s coming too you know. Maybe you can finally tell him how you feel.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Oh come on. We’re heading the the club after. It’ll be fun.” 

“Fine. Only because you insisted.” 

“You don’t need to lie to me. I know you’re only coming cos Taehyun’s coming.” 

“Shut up.” 

By the time Saturday evening rolls up, you had planned your outfit and gone through your confession speech multiple times. You finished your hair and makeup and slipped into a black mini dress that was slightly too short but it hugged your figure so well that you wanted to show off as much as you can. You pair it with a black kitten heel, preparing for your time at the club later that night. But most importantly, your needy cunt was exposed through the black lace underwear you wore under your tiny dress. 

Feeling a sense of feigned confidence, you step out of your room, heading into your shared living space where Taehyun was waiting. He’s sat sprawled across the armchair, taking up the entire seat as he manspread whilst scrolling through his phone. Upon hearing the clacking of your heels, his head jolts up taking in your presence. He eyes your naked thighs, feeling the sharpness of his gaze lasering through your legs making your knees go weak. 

“You look nice,” his compliment has your confidence crumbling as you instantly resort back to your usual shyness. 

“Thank you,” your voice comes out more strained than you wanted but this was a reaction to the current wetness building up in your folds as you begin to notice the way his shirt clings to his body, looking almost see-through under his brown jacket. 

“You ready to go?” 

He follows you to the door when suddenly you pause.

“Hang on. Just need to fix my heels. The strap is a little loose.” 

You arch forward, bending down to reach your shoes as the back of your dress rides up. You felt exposed as your underwear was evidently wet but you sought the thrill of provoking a reaction from the man behind you. Even as you were still bent down fumbling with your straps, you felt his gaze staring heavily into your core, past the black lace fabric. 

“Ok, I’m done. We can go now.” 

You hand barely reaches the doorknob before you’re being pulled back into his chest. 

“You think it’s funny to tease me like that?”

“Mhm?? What do you mean?” 

“Playing dumb won’t work on me.” 

“I don’t get it. What are you talking about?” You kept egging him on with your masquerade of innocence, each step getting him a little further to your desired goal. 

“You’re still gonna keep going with that? Even after you flashed your underwear to me?”

“What? I did that? Really? I bet you don’t even know the colour of my underwear.”

“Oh baby, I don’t even have to guess. I saw that black lace with my very own eyes. That little bow was cute too.” 

You hadn’t noticed until you felt his breath against your neck but he has inched closer to you, his arms slowly crawling up your legs, grabbing onto your waist. Your cheeks burned from the closeness you had been longing for. 

“You wanna tell me you did that on purpose or are you gonna keep pretending that you flashed me by accident?” His voice grumbled, echoing through the chambers of your mind. 

Your breath was shaky and unstable as you managed to answer his question, “It was on purpose, Taehyun.”

Before you knew it, his lips came crashing onto your, sucking the life out of you. The lustful kiss had you moaning into his mouth as his tongue darts into yours, claiming you for himself. 

“I knew it. Now take those panties off.” 

Lifting your dress up, you slip your underwear down, letting it fall to the ground as the wetness begins dripping down your legs.

“Shit, look at you. Fucking drenched already. Bet you’ve been dreaming of this: wanting to strip naked in front of me just so I can get a look at how much of a slut you are for me. Am I right?” 

“You’re righ- ahh!” 

His fingers circle your entrance before you get then chance to finish, teasing your hole. Before long, he pushes in 2 long fingers, struggling to keep going in your tight, clenched pussy. 

“God, are you a virgin? You’re so fucking tight.” He groans as he manages to get his fingers deep into your core, feeling the tightness squeeze his digits. 

“Mhmm… I am. Wanted your cock to be the first inside me.” 

“Fucking hell. You’ve been waiting for me all this time huh? Guess I’ll have to give you everything you’ve dreamed of.” 

His fingers scissor you walls, stretching you out in preparation for his cock. The way your muscles are pulled sends shock waves running down your leg, almost losing sensation in them as you’re on the verge of collapsing, gripping onto Taehyun’s shoulders for support. 

“I want your dick in me. Now!” You demand. 

“Why so desperate? You’ve been such a tease and you won’t even let me finger your cunt. But ok, I’ll give it to you. Just don’t expect me to go easy.” 

He unzips his trousers, pulling them down along with his boxers in one go. He strips himself of his jacket, remaining only in his white form-fitting t-shirt. 

His cock springs up onto his stomach. The tip is red while his length is girthy and long beyond average, the veins matching the ones that run up his forearms. He teases your hole by pumping just the tip in making you grind against him, hips rolling as you force yourself onto him. 

He pushes your back up against the wall, controlling your movement before slamming straight into your gummy walls, your moans shrieking out from surprise. 

“Fuck Taehyun! Keep going like that!”

His movements are controlled and precise, making sure to hit the g-spot with each pump. Your moans become uncontrollable with the increase in speed, crying as he slams into your repeatedly, abusing your cunt. 

He then lifts up your thigh, holding it against his waist, allowing him to hit different angles making your mind feel fuzzy at the new sensation. 

“Fuck. If you keep clenching round my cock like that, I might cum already.” His grunts are disheveled and all over the place as he begins to lose control over his speed, rutting into you like some dog. 

“I’m gonna cum too. Please. Please come in me.” Your whispers are the only sound that comes out you as your voice has cracked with all the screams you let out.

He spills his spurts inside you, coating your walls in white as you feel his dick throbbing inside your trembling pussy. Your orgasm hit like the ocean onto the rocks, the speed at which you came leading to a spray of liquid to shoot out. Your eyes instantly shut, feeling exhausted from being fucked out to your climax. 

“You squirted?” 

“I guess I did.” 

After letting your body cool down from the intensity, you pick up your panties, getting ready to slip them back on, when Taehyun’s voice hisses at you, grabbing your underwear from your hands before shoving them up your stretched hole, pushing it in deeper and deeper until it remains stuck in your sobbing cunt.

“Let’s see how you tease everyone else looking like this.” 

“But Taehyun, it was only meant for you. I can’t go out like this. Let me out them back on, please” 

“Only for me huh? You only want me to see you in this state?” 

You nod frantically, “You’re the one I like Taehyun.” 

“The little brat likes me. Well I like you too. Your pussy was made for my cock and you take it so well. But you still deserved to be punished for teasing me like that. Keep the underwear stuffed in your pussy and go put on another pair.”

Following his orders, you head back to your room, picking out some pink panties, feeling the black lace slipping out. You push it back in and secure it in place by hitching the pink pair up high. You waddle back to Taehyun who was now fully dressed again. Your legs feel uncomfortably shaky as you walk but his arms hold your waist, supporting you. He bends down checking that you’ve followed his orders, grinning with satisfaction as he catches a glimpse of the pinkx

“Good girl. Now no one can guess what you have going on under there but me.” 

[arielluva]

utena and anthy if they were in fantasy life :)

ok rambly time. i made utena a paladin because. duh. and anthy is a wizard. utena is just wearing a variation of the basic paladin uniform, and her sword is based off of the azure rose. both because its shape resembles the sword of dios and also has rose in the name. anthys outfit is loosely based off the grand wizard outfit, and she is using a palm wand. (and also the round specs)

i imagine that if it wasnt a spot for the player to move in, that they could live in that little log cabin in south castele. out in the farmland near the horse stables and whatever, i think it’d be nice for them.

i tried to get as close to how the actual art style would draw them, by looking through the character creator and going off the hair and eyes in there. unfortunately theres not a pink color close to utena’s in the game, but otherwise i was able to figure out how to stylize them. i was originally gonna give anthy the almond eyes, but i couldnt figure out how to get it to look good, so she has more basic ones

[wosoamazing]

Arguments

Summary: You and Leah get into a fight. Based on this request & thank you to the anon for giving me an idea about the fight.

Warnings: None?

A/N: I'm really sorry but the Barça x teen!reader fic, where Rs Dad died before the game might not be the next fic to come out, I will try and finish it however I am just really stuck on ideas for it, if you have any feel free to let me know.

You walk out into the living room, where the rest of the team is. It is team bonding night, which you were invited to even though you’re not part of the team anymore, as you're currently in London visiting Leah and your family, because you can’t play due to your ankle. However you weren’t going to team bonding night as it was one of your friend’s 18th birthday and as much as you missed the team you hadn’t spent time with your friends in ages, and it would be the first 18th you could attend, so of course you didn't pass up to opportunity to party with your friends. When you walked out into the room all eyes were on you, they all seemed honestly impressed, Katie even gave you a grin and a smirk, however your sister’s face showed her clear disapproval for your very not modest outfit. You had a loose black sequin v-neck halter top on, with a pair of denim shorts that were almost too small to be appropriate, and your hair was in a very slicked back high ponytail, with a pink feather scrunchie finishing it off.

“You can’t wear that.” Your sister scowled.

“Oh what, so you only care about how I look, how I’ll damage your reputation.” you sassed her back.

“What's that supposed to mean?” She asked in defence.

“Oh, stop pretending you don’t know what I mean. It’s not like you care about anything else I do…..so why do you care what I wear?”

“I can’t believe you’re giving me attitude right now,” you scoffed at her “honestly, I’m glad you’re at Barça now, at least now I don’t have to deal with you and your attitude.”

“See I knew you didn’t care that I was leaving, you weren’t sad, you were happy.”

“I just hope you don’t treat Alexia like this.” she said, almost waving you off.

“Sorry that we can’t all be as perfect as you, Leah ‘Captain of England’ Williamson. I’m honestly glad I’m at Barça too, it means I don’t have to deal with your judgement daily. And anyway, everyone knows you’re just jealous. Sorry but I can’t help it that I’m better than you.”

“That’s a fucking low blow.” She said as you started walking towards the front door, “Where do you think you’re going in that?”

“To the party, remember. The world doesn’t revolve around you like you think it does.” You snapped back at her before slamming the door behind you.

____

You were waiting out the front, Leah said she would pick you up at 12:00 and with the fight you had you did not want ehr to be there before you were, to reduce the chances of you getting yelled at.

“Y/N/N,” you heard a familiar voice call out, it wasn’t Leah though, it was Beth. You walked over to her car.

“Where’s Leah?”

“Oh, she asked us to pick you up, you can stay the night if you want.”

“Fucking perfect sister my arse, yes please”

____

You woke up to an elaborate breakfast spread on the table, but Beth and Viv weren’t in sight. Walking further out into the main room, you saw a very familiar figure sitting on the couch, it was your sister.

“What are you doing here? Where are Beth and Viv?”

“They’ve gone on a walk. Can we talk?”

“About what, oh let me guess, what I wore last night was inappropriate, my behaviour was inappropriate, I shouldn’t act like that. Blah, blah, blah. I get it whatever.”

“Y/N, sit, we need to talk, I need to talk to you, I need to say something to you” you rolled your eyes at her as you begrudgingly moved to the couch and sat down.

“I’m sorry about last night. It would be a lie if I said I wasn’t slightly jealous of you being at Barça, or of Alexia for getting to spend everyday with you. I miss you and I’m sorry, and I was wrong, but that doesn’t mean you should’ve acted how you did, you shouldn’t have snapped.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever” you said with a slight huff, hoping to push her off.

“What?” She replied to you clearly frustrated as she leant back into the couch crossing her arms.

“No one has thought to consider how I actually feel about it, I constantly get asked something surrounding whether I’m having fun at Barça, not how I am finding it, whether I’m coping or not. No one has stopped to think that maybe this is more pressure than I needed, no one has bothered to check that the pressure isn't getting to me. Everyone now expects me to be some sort of goal machine, they expect me to be on a level most experienced players aren’t, they expect me to be some sort of God.” You took deep shaky breath, feeling your lower eyelids droop from the weight of your building tears, before you continued “You haven’t, my own sister hasn’t even, thought about whether I’m coping mentally let alone asking me. You know not once has any single one of you checked in on how I am going with my eating, something you all single handley promised me, Sam has though. And yeah sure I’m having fun but you know how much pressure there is? To improve. To show the world, to show you, to show the national team, to show Arsenal that this was the right choice, to show Barça I was worth the money. I feel like I need to score to get your validity, I constantly feel like I have to show you I am a good player, show you it’s not just because I’m your little sister, and can be moulded into the next generation you. I have yet to show you, to make you believe I am a good player, I deserve it, I deserve it all and I don’t have your name, your name isn’t what is getting me through, its my name, our name, our family name. I constantly am trying to get your approval, I constantly try to not disappoint you but no matter what I do it doesnt work. It just makes you more ashamed of me, and makes you more disappointed with me.” At this point tears were streaming down your face, Leah moved over to sit next to you, pulling you into her lap for a hug. 

“I’m so sorry bug, I know I haven't been the best sister, I am really really sorry.” She said as a few tears escaped her eyes.

[loveshotzz]

All I Really Want Is You

older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap eight/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs - updated every wednesday

Red, White & Boom

summary: A Fourth of July block party ends in fireworks.

wc: 6.8k (🙄 it’s fine, you’re falling in love.)

warnings: 18+ series for future chapters. I don’t know based on Steve’s promise in the last one, what do you think? 😏

author’s note: there were so many different versions of this chapter before I got here and I just want to say thank you to my friends who helped me through this one. I just wanted it to be perfect 🧡

🌇 <- chapter seven | (bonus chapter playlist)

🌆 -> chapter nine

The Masterlist / The Playlist / The Tune:

July 4th -

Instead of the Good Morning tough girl you were expecting the next day, it was Good Morning beautiful that you read.

Steve Harrington woke you up calling you beautiful for the three mornings after that too. 

The night before the fourth, you could hardly sleep with his promise to kiss you still fresh in your mind. It lingered and attached itself to every thought since he left you with it. 

How was he going to do it? When was he going to do it?  When he picks you up? Middle of the date? End of the date? What if he changes his mind? 

The nerves are even worse as you stare at yourself in the long mirror of your room and your eyes catch the time. 1:52pm. Steve was ‘picking you up’ at two and you were on your fourth outfit in the last hour. Trying to find something that was cute enough for a first date but also practical for walking around the city in the summer heat was starting to feel impossible. 

Date.

The word makes the fluttering start before he’s even arrived, a smile tugging at your lips when you think it again. Would you get used to it?

The shorts you settle on are a high waisted dark denim pair that cut off and fringe in the middle of your thighs, The black low cut ribbed top you match them with has a lace trim along the sleeves and the dip down down the middle. It hugs your curves in a way that makes you feel confident, something in your closet you know you won’t spend the whole day adjusting and fiddling with. 

Knock, knock - knock, knock 

Jumping when you hear his knuckles against the wood, you give yourself another once over before deciding it’s good enough. With your shoes still in the corner of your room, your slippers slide against your floor all the way to your front door. Nerves tighten your chest, a shaky breath leaving between glossed lips before you stop to give yourself a minute to let it sink in- mentally preparing to see the man who showed up at your front door steps with his heart in his hands. Your handsome neighbor with a past and a Bandit as his best friend.

You have to hold back the sigh that threatens to escape when you lay your eyes on him for the first time since that night. His grin is lopsided, the almost beard he had is gone, like he’d shaved it the next day leaving just the kind of stubble you liked the most.

“Hey, tough girl.” Pearly whites flash when he says it sweet, dripping with extra honey just for you.

His hair is freshly done like when he’s on his way to work, the grays on the sides seem lighter from spending a weekend out in the sun. The sleeves are short on his dark navy button up, the linen material fitting him loose and snug in all the right places. The two ivory buttons on top are undone, leaving a place for his Raybans to dangle. The weight of them pulls it down just enough to see the beginnings of his dark curls underneath and the silver pendant at the end of the chain that always hangs around his neck.

“Hi Steve.” You bite your bottom lip to try and contain your smile, your hips twisting from side to side with your hands behind your back, you can’t help it when he talks to you like that. 

He’s wearing the same pants you saw him in when you brought him cannolis. The cream ones he almost kissed you in. The bottoms are cuffed, a pair of dark brown loafers on his feet, they look worn in but the gold buckle on top of them still shines in the dingy light of your stairwell.

“You look too pretty to be going on a date with me,” he says it in a way that almost makes you believe it. 

“Look who’s talkin’, handsome,” you manage to get out, making the apples of his cheeks dust your favorite shade of pink.

Opening your apartment door a little wider, the knots in your stomach twist a little tighter when his eyes linger on your lips.

Is he gonna do it now?

“You can come in, I just gotta put on my shoes.” You clear your throat, stepping aside when he doesn’t make any moves, tugging at the low cut collar of your shirt like it’s tight as your blood starts to run hot. 

You’re hit with the smell of his cologne when he crosses the threshold, it’s different today, more woodsy than you’re used to and it makes your head spin. He looks around with fresh eyes, admiring all the details he missed now that he can see them in the light of day. Glimpses of you that he hasn’t gotten to know yet. Missing pieces to your puzzle. His gaze slowly finds its way to your kitchen that almost sparkles. 

“That’s two visits in a row that I’ve come here and your dishes are done.” Steve points to your empty sink, “I’m impressed.” 

He gets his first eye roll of the day.

“Careful, we haven’t left yet. I could still cancel.” Wiggling your slipper covered feet as a reminder, you smirk. “My shoes aren’t even on, it’d be so easy to do.”

“Oh yeah? How easy?” He raises his eyebrows in a challenge, the corners of his mouth twitch as he tries to keep his face straight.

“Like flipping a light switch, easy,” you retort smugly, making sure to sway your hips a little more when you walk to your room. Fighting the giddy smile that threatens to take over your face, you lose when you’re out of his sight.

You aren’t expecting him to follow you, but you find him standing in your doorway when you take a seat on your bed.

“If it’s so easy…” there’s a new confidence in the way he looks at you now, like knows you want him too. 

He looks at the untied sneakers next to your feet before taking the first steps into your room. He pauses to let you stop him, but when you smirk at him with a cocked eyebrow he closes the rest of the space. Crouching down in front of you, playful eyes meet yours from under thick lashes. The freckles that dot the top of his nose seem darker in the daylight. You wonder if there’s a way to find and kiss all of them. 

“Let me make it harder.”

He’s gentle when he takes your socked foot in his hand, the warmth of his skin seeping through the cotton. It makes your heart race. He grabs your sneaker, the slight platform looking small in his grasp when his fingers wrap around your ankle to push it on. The pad of his thumb rubs at the soft skin there when he has to use a little force.

Long fingers work the laces like a pro, forearms flexing when he tightens after each eyelet, always just enough, never too tight. Leaning back on your palms, you watch him with the kind of adoration you couldn’t hide even if you tried when he repeats the same process on your other foot.

He ties both in a perfect bow, a proud smile wrinkling the corners of his eyes when he looks up for your approval.  Your favorite strand already begs to come out of its gelled confines and your fingers itch ready to brush it away again if it escapes.

“I usually double tie it,” you giggle with another wiggle of your foot. “I mean, if you really wanna make sure I stay put.”

Steve huffs out a laugh, hot breath fanning against your skin that leaves goosebumps in its wake. He holds your stare while tying his perfect bow into a duplicate on both shoes, smirking when you squirm.

“No running now honey.” 

The neighborhood is alive in a different way than you’ve seen before, the rush of everyday life is replaced with sparklers, Italian ice, and live music. The cars that lined the sides of the street including Steve’s are nowhere to be seen. Multicolored tents with homemade signs of vendors from all over the city replace them instead. 

The sun hangs high, bright in the cerulean sky. Golden and warm like the man next to you. His Raybans cover his eyes now, leaving you defenseless against trying to read his thoughts. It’s different in public like this, it’s not just you two in the spaces between houses - in front yards, in alleys, in kitchens. It’s new feelings, new territory, and lots of people, but Steve searches for comfort in you when he takes your hand into his like it’s nothing.

“This is not what I was expecting when you said block party,” you say with an overwhelmed giggle, walking with no real destination, moving with the crowd. 

The fair rides catch your sight from the end of the street taking up the middle school parking lot. A ferris wheel just high enough you think you’d be able to see the lake from the top of it. It blinks multicolored bulbs, red white and blue flags hanging from its hinges blowing in the breeze haphazardly. The sweet smell of honey roasted almonds almost over powers the sizzle of Italian beef, and the butter of the popcorn. 

“Yeah, they go all out because it’s sponsored,” Steve offers with a shy smile, “This is actually my first one if I’m being honest, I usually go out of town for these, Bandit hates fireworks.”

“Wait? Is he home? Is he going to be okay? Do you have one of those vest thingy’s? I’ve read about them-“ Your pace slows, worry setting deep in your features and Steve thinks it's the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

“Yes, he’s in good hands. He’s staying with his aunt Nancy in the suburbs where it’s not so bad.” He chuckles, pulling your hand to his lips, they’re soft like silk when they press a kiss to your skin. It’s enough for your face to relax, eyes glazing over at the contact. “I promise honey.”

“Such a good daddy Steve, it’s cute,” you giggle, the nickname falling way too easily off your lips to not even be looking at him. Steve’s jaw clenches, he wants to kiss you. Bad. It doesn’t help that your gloss shimmers like glitter in the sun. Tempting him. The worst part is knowing you’d let him kiss you too. 

Not yet - the plan. 

His hand twitches at his side, he wants the familiar comfort of his fingers through his hair to ease his nerves but he can’t. It took him way too long to get it styled like this. Instead, he scratches at his jaw with a tight lipped smile.

“Thanks, I try.” 

The two of you wander through the different tents, a tentative hand always finding its way to your lower back whenever you stop at something you want to take a closer look at. Light conversation about your weeks at work comes easy, your touches staying a little shy, both of you unsure how to act in such a crowded place. 

The more the afternoon goes on like this, the endless butterflies that only exist for him start to stir from their cocoons. It’s when you lean over a table to get a better look at a moonstone that’s delicately hanging from a silver chain, that they start to stretch their wings. They flutter when you feel bold fingertips trace a line up your spine before long fingers wrap around the back of your neck giving the tense muscles there a squeeze. The pad of his thumb digging lightly into the spot behind your ear that makes your eyes want to close. You tuck your bottom lip between teeth to hold back your groan, the week of heavy trays and heavy thoughts coming loose under his touch.

“You like that one?” His voice startles you, it’s deep, rich and just above a whisper right by your ear. He chuckles when you jump a little letting his hand slide down the dip of your back, blunt nails scratching at the small of it.

“Yeah, it’s cute. I used to have one just like it but I lost it a few years ago.” Your eyes trace around the smooth stone, before seeing the sixty dollar price tag attached to it. 

Not that cute.

“Hopefully not in a sink.” It comes out of his mouth like he’s been waiting for this moment his whole life.

The glare you give him makes him snort, hands raising in surrender while your reflection in his lenses turns you into a giggling mess. The sixty year old woman in a moo moo trying to cool herself down with a paper fan on the other side of the table doesn’t think either of you are very funny. Steve digs for his wallet, your mouth opening in protest before he pulls out a crisp twenty from the tan leather billfold.

“Let’s get out of her hair, I saw something a few tables down that I want to grab for Eddie. Want to get us a lemonade and I’ll meet you?” Steve points to the concession stand on the other side of the tent, where a line of over excited kids and their already worn out parents have formed.

You watch his eyebrows raise behind the frames of his sunglasses when you just stare at the money in his hand making no indication of grabbing it. He knows what you’re doing.

“I asked you on a date if you remember, tough girl, I can buy you a what? A six dollar drink?” He huffs, lips twitching despite himself.

Steve gets his second eye roll of the day, this one accompanied with the kind of smile he wants from you all the time. He hopes it was the reminder that you were on a date with him that makes you beam like that. 

“Fair enough of an argument, I guess,” you sigh with a hint of a giggle at the end, and it makes him shake his head, white teeth on display leaving you a giddy mess.

He holds the bill out for you to take again, even though his eyes are hidden behind tinted lenses, you know he’s giving you a look. You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth to try and stop your smile from growing, your fingers wrapping around the bill sweetly.

“I’ll be five minutes,” he starts as you tuck the twenty into your back pocket.

“I got your number handsome.” You wink, making his cheeks bubblegum pink as you walk away. “No running, remember?” 

“That double knot isn’t coming loose honey. Five minutes.” He gestures the minutes with his hand, the kind of grin on his face that threatens to make you fall in love.

🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋

The heat starts getting sticky, the breeze from before coming to a standstill making the plastic cup wet in your hand. The condensation drips down the bright yellow lemons that decorate it and onto your fingers but it feels good. You shift from side to side awkwardly next to the concession stand, people watching with the green bendy straw in your mouth. You’re closer to the school now, the sight of fair games in the shade of tents cooled down by giant fans catches your eye. The empty ring toss table calling your name. 

That’s when you see him, an irrational anger settling in your gut at how he somehow looks even more attractive than he did ten minutes ago. You can tell the moment he spots you through the crowd, a giant smile stretching so wide across his face it threatens to compete with the sun and it's just for you. 

“That was longer than five minutes, Steve,” you tsk when he reaches you, trying not to overthink the fact that he doesn’t have any sort of bag.

He chuckles, a little out of breath, giving into his impulse to run his fingers through his hair. The heat of the day finally ruining any product that was left in it.

“You just got one lemonade?” He points to the dripping cup in your hands with a smirk.

“Yeah, I realized that after I’d ordered, but could you imagine if I was left waiting here for ten minutes with two of these?!” You lift it up like it's heavy before narrowing your eyes playfully, “Why? Got a problem sharing with me or something?”

He lifts his sunglasses pushing them up to rest on top of his head, and they almost get lost in the thickness of his honey and pepper locks. The full force of the mossy green browns of his eyes make your thighs press.

“No, just wanted to make sure before I did this.” Leaning forward, his gaze stays focused on yours before his lips wrap around the straw. His adams apple bobs in his throat when he takes a long gulp, while beads of sweat collect and drip down the sides of his neck making you lick your lips. 

“G-good?” You manage to ask when he pulls away wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

“Delicious actually. Is that a hint of strawberry?” Steve asks with a widening grin, the pad of his thumbs swiping away some of the excess lipgloss he’d gotten off the straw. You rub your lips together subconsciously, the corners of them threatening to pull up when he puts his sunglasses back on.

“Strawberry and watermelon actually.” 

The air between you grows thick with something that’s not the humidity, especially when you see the way more sweat glistens from the tease of soft curls on his chest. Was that a third button undone?

“I didn’t catch the watermelon, I’ll just have to get a better taste next time.” His ears catch your quick intake of breath. He could do it now, really taste you. The way your eyes keep dropping to his mouth tells him you want him to.  

Stick to the plan.

He takes the cup that you have to hold with both hands into one, fingers wrapping around it with ease. Stealing your hand in his other, they intertwine like they missed each other. The cold condensation left on your palm from the lemonade cools the warmth of his heated skin from the sun and from you.

“Let’s go check out the games.”

“You know ring toss is a scam right?” Steve sighs, the two of you standing in front of the booth you’d eye’d from across the block. 

“It’s not a scam, it’s a game of skill Steve.” 

You give him his third eye roll of the day and it makes the corners of his lips curve despite giving you one in return.

“I thought you were Mr. Sports anyway, shouldn’t you be good at this? Don’t you work for the Cubs or something?” You copy his stance, taking note of how it gets him more irritated.

“Mr. Sports? I do marketing, I don’t play for the team,” he scoffs at the nickname, but the playfulness that fills your eyes is contagious and it’s enough to feed his soul for months. “I’m plenty good at this game, I just didn’t want you to get discouraged.”

“Me? Discouraged?” You give him a sarcastic laugh and it makes his cheeks push up. He can’t remember the last time he smiled like this.

“I’m just looking out for you, that’s all.” He shrugs, taking another sip of the lemonade so he doesn’t laugh at the face that gets you to make.

“You don’t have to look out for me, in fact I’m gonna raise the stakes Harrington.” He loves how you say his last name like you’ve known him for years, especially when you’re heated. “The loser has to buy funnel cake after this, or is that too much for you to handle?” You raise your eyebrows, in a challenge.

“It’s never too much for me to handle.” Steve makes sure to look you up and down, enjoying the way it makes you squirm before continuing, “And don’t worry I’m not really going to make you pay for the funnel cake after I beat you.”  

He signals to the teenager on the other side of the table for two rounds, laughing at the way you scoff around giggles giving his shoulder a light shove.

———————————————————————

It takes about three throws for Steve to realize he’s going to eat his words when he watches the plastic ring bounce off the lip of the bottle again. 

“Aww maybe the next one, champ.” you pout with a quick flick of your wrist, your fourth ring hitting the top of the bottle before spinning down the neck of it with a hollow hum just like the three before and it makes Steve’s jaw clench. “I like extra powdered sugar by the way.” 

He grumbles something to himself grabbing his last ring, feeling the heat of your stare on him, he tries to ignore the way it makes all the blood rush to his cheeks and focus on at least making one. His eyes squint as he picks his target.

“Maybe you need those glasses that were on your desk?” You shrug nonchalantly, conveniently refusing to meet his incredulous gaze, a smirk playing the edges of your lips.

“I don’t need glasses - who are you? Where’s that sweet girl from next door, huh?” He can’t help but laugh when your smirk breaks out into a fit of giggles.

“I'm competitive when it comes to meaningless games, Steve. What can I say?” You sigh, your admission making him snort as he refocuses on the bottle again.

“Competitive but hates sports, makes total sense,” mumbling, he does a few practice throws not letting the ring go. He’s not expecting you to come up beside him so close that he can smell the perfume you sprayed this morning. He wants to bury his nose in your neck and inhale.

“Just bend your arm a little here, baby,” the teasing edge to your voice is gone, replaced with something sticky sweet like the lemonade he shared with you, like your strawberry and watermelon lip gloss. ‘Baby’ rings loud in his ears and needs to hear you say it again, he always wants to be your baby. 

Your touch is gentle when you bend his elbow just slightly, soft fingers that feel electric. 

“You settin’ me up?” Steve’s eyes meet yours, smile going lopsided when he catches you getting a little shy.

“I’m not! I promise.” You giggle again and he decides he’ll buy you as many funnel cakes as you want. “If you think you’re throwing it too soft, you’re not.”

You back away to let him make his move, he’s more concentrated than you’ve ever seen as he takes your advice to heart. His tongue pokes out as he lines himself up, silently counting to three before letting go. You hold back your squeal watching it catch on the top, spinning sloppily down the neck plastic clinking against the glass loudly.

“Wooo!” Steve’s hands shoot up the bottom of his shirt rising with it giving you a glimpse of his happy trail. Excitement radiating from his bright smile.. 

God you just want to kiss him.

“See, skill, not luck,” you tease.

“How’d you get so good at this?” He questions watching you make your fifth one without a second thought.

“I lived in a small town with nothing to do but stupid games like this.” You shrug, you hadn’t thought about home since moving here, a nostalgic pain hits your chest.

“You get to pick a prize,” the teenager cuts into your conversation, refusing to let Steve ask the questions that were obviously on the tip of his tongue. 

He points to the grid wall behind him where everything from classic teddy bears, purple dragons, and dancing bananas are strung up in a pop of bright colors. Steve watches with admiration at the focus on your face as your eyes look over every option like it’s the hardest decision you’ve ever had to make in your life. Then you look up at him and ask-

“Which one do you think Bandit would like?” 

Maybe his plan was stupid, maybe he should just say fuck it and kiss your right here. 

“I think he’d really dig the banana, definitely his style.” Steve nods casually trying not to let it show that he thinks he’s already falling in love with you.

You beam at him before telling the kid your choice, excitedly grabbing it when it’s handed to you. Steve looks out to the sun starting to set burnt orange and pink in the sky telling himself he can hold out for at least another hour, maybe two. Maybe.

“You should have seen the woman’s face when I asked for more sugar,” Steve huffs, dropping the deep fried treat in front of you. The sweet powder puffs like smoke falling off the dough like snow landing onto the already formed piles that cover the bottom of the paper plate.

“She was just jealous,” you wave off, wiggling your fingers in excitement unsure of where to even start as he takes the seat next to you, knees bumping under the picnic table you’d found.

“Jealous of what? The dentist visit I’ll need to pay for after this?”  Steve cocks an eyebrow, pulling off a piece regardless of his complaining. His sunglasses hang down the middle of his shirt again, the sun low enough for his eyes to come out of hiding, stealing some of the confidence you have when you don’t get distracted by them.

You roll your eyes for the fourth time and it starts making him feel spoiled, especially the way the corners of your mouth always give you away curving up the littlest bit after each one.

Ignoring his complaining you plop a piece into your mouth, the extra sugar sticks to your gloss and he really starts to hate his plan again when he watches your tongue dart out to lick it off. 

“So what made you move here?” Steve asks, the curiosity from before coming back as he brushes some of the powder from another piece.

A small laugh escapes through your nose, your eyes meeting his from under your lashes before darting back to the dessert. You didn’t have an exciting or dramatic reason to give, not even a career path. The nerves of a different kind kick up in the fear of being perceived as a mess once he really gets to know you. It makes your palms sweat.

“I don’t know, New York always intimidated me,” you offer with a half smile, picking at the sides of the fried dough.

“Come on, tough girl.” Steve bumps his shoulder with yours, his cologne mixing with the day in a way that has you wanting to bottle it up for yourself.

You sigh, lips twitching in a grin before giving into him.

“It’s just something I’ve always wanted to do. Live in a big city.” You gesture around you before ripping off another bite. “My parents have never lived anywhere else their whole lives, so I promised myself that if I was still there when I was thirty, I’d do it. I’d pack up and move no matter what, and that’s exactly what I did.” You laugh, popping the small treat in your mouth. 

“I don’t really have a plan? I don’t really know what I’m doing which is scary and exciting all at the same time,” you admit, avoiding his gaze hunting for another perfect bite and it just kinda feels like stress eating now.

“You sound like me.” Steve chuckles, and it makes you freeze, finally daring to look at him. The tan he got from the day was already starting to show, the laugh lines under his eyes a little more prominent from this close. The stubble that lines his jaw has a little more salt than pepper.

“Yeah?” You hate how quiet your voice sounds, blaming it on the way his thigh is pressed tight against yours.

“You think I wanted to get into sports marketing my whole life?” Steve snorts, “I”m from a small town in Indiana, I worked at an ice cream shop in a mall and a video rental store after high school. I had no idea what I wanted to do, or who I was.” 

His hand reaches under the table, fingers wrapping around your knee to give it a reassuring squeeze.

“If it wasn’t for a drunk night with Eddie and my other best friend Robin after a shitty day at work,” He shrugs, picking at the dough, “telling me about this three bedroom apartment in Chicago they had found real cheap through some guy named Rick, who knows what I’d be doing now.” 

There’s a moment of silence between you, letting the realization that the Steve you’d built up in your head wasn’t the man next to you. The man next to you was better. He was real. Hope blooms inside your chest that maybe you weren’t so lost after all.

“Well, that just made me like you even more. Great.” You fake annoyance but your shy smile gives you away.

“Oh yeah?” He flirts, wiggling his eyebrows at you leaning in closer, loving how he can hear the stutter in your breath every time.

“Well, maybe.” 

“Maybe?” His question comes out soft, his nose bumping yours while his eyes linger on the sugar that collected on your already sweet lips. 

You nod with a sigh, sticky gloss and fluttering lashes, big eyes that beg him. The hand on your knee comes up to cup your face, the tip of his thumb tracing your bottom lip before tugging it down mesmerized by how it still shimmers after all this time.

Fuck the plan.

“Harrington? I thought that was you!” 

Both of you jump, your hand nearly flipping the plate when an unsuspecting voice pops you two out of your bubble. Again. It takes everything inside Steve not to groan out loud, recognizing the man behind the interruption instantly. His boss.

“Richard?” Steve’s voice changes to the version you’d heard on the phone as he spins around in his seat giving you the perfect view of the way the linen stretches over his shoulders.

He was going to kiss you and now he’s talking to Richard.

Your eyes meet a much older man’s dark brown ones, he looks somewhere in his mid to late sixties, but the kind of late sixties that told you he had money. The thick white cotton of his t-shirt looks Egyptian, the light wash jeans look like the kind of denim that cost more than your rent. The hundred and fifty dollar leather Cole Haan sneakers on his feet make it seem dressed down despite the wing tip. Casual rich.

“I didn’t think you’d be here sir.” Steve chuckles nervously scratching the back of his neck. 

“Well, someone has to see where the money you convinced me to spend is going.” He smiles but it’s warm in spite of his playful jab. 

“Besides, I’ve heard it’s you that doesn’t come to these things.” Richard’s eyes meet yours with a knowing sparkle behind them, “But I've got an idea why this year’s different.”

The heat rushes to your cheeks from the implications of his words and you try and bite back your own grin when you look down at the half eaten dessert.

“Well it’s always good to see you outside of the field Harrington, I think The ALS Foundation and the Chicago Parks District will be happy with their checks this year. Great job as always son,” he compliments proudly.

The two of them talk “shop” for a few minutes, but all you can focus on is the fact that Steve put this all together and it’s something he’s been doing for years. Channeling his grief into something good and it makes your heart swell.

“There’s an empty skybox with your name on it for next week’s game, bring your girl. It’ll be fun. I’ll let you two get back to it.” Richard’s voice gets louder with his departure breaking you out of your thoughts as he pats Steve on his shoulder, giving him a fatherly squeeze. 

“Enjoy the fireworks.”

He throws you a wink before walking away taking your kiss from Steve with him.

The music thumps low in the distance when you two get to a part of the lake that isn’t a public beach. It’s a Marina but not one for just anybody, the docks are mostly empty but the boats that are there look expensive, definitely not rentals.  

‘What are we doing Steve?” You whisper but it sounds more like a yell when he pulls out a keycard to open up the gate that stops you from going inside.

“My buddy has a boat, well it’s not here but his spot is, at the very end. We’d get a perfect view of Navy Pier and the fireworks. No people.” He opens the gate with a loud creak, his hand extending out for you to take. “Jus’ me and you.”

The skyline shines behind him, the wind catching in his unruly hair with the kind of smile you’d be insane to say no to. 

So you don’t.

You slide your hand into his without any hesitation, like it’s meant to be there, watching the way it disappears in his grasp.

“That’s my girl.”

The dock bobs in the small waves under your feet as he leads you out to the empty spot all the way at the end. The lake looks black, endless with the other side nowhere in sight. If you didn’t know any better you’d think it was the ocean. You’re almost scared when you get to the end and all you can see is the white tops of the water breaking against the rocks. 

The faint sounds of voices from the crowds at the pier catch in the wind, the long tourist attraction shining bright not that far from you. The ferris wheel towers above the lake, the glass enclosures catching the lights from the city while its own twinkles against the stars in the clear sky. 

“Steve, this is gorgeous.” You don’t know where to look, the man or the city.

He grins like he’s proud of himself, letting your hand go to lay the blanket down. Your eyes take in the view again while he gets situated, and you try to picture what it’s going to look like in a few minutes with all the colors in the sky. 

“Baby,”  the pet name comes out easy for him when he uses it to get your attention, like it’s what he should’ve been calling you all along. He likes the smile he gets when he says it too.

Both his hands reach out for you to take, helping you down to sit in the space between his legs. His knees lift up when you sit, while his arms wrap around your waist to pull you close. With your back to his chest, he rests his chin on your shoulder, his stubble tickling your neck when the tip of his nose runs along your jaw inhaling the powdered sugar and strawberry that still lingers on your skin.

“God, I’ve wanted you this close all day,” he confesses like it's a secret he’s exhausted from keeping. 

“Yeah?” You whisper, tilting your head to give him better access while his lips ghost against the shell of your ear, feeling the way they curve into a smile.

“You have no idea, beautiful girl.” He presses a soft kiss on your temple, the tips of his fingers exploring your rib cage and you wonder if he can feel the butterflies.

His lips drag to the apple of your cheek where he leaves another one before he pulls away, the music getting louder from the pier signaling the start of the show.

“Thank you for today.” You turn your head to look at him because you already miss him.

He tilts his chin down to meet your eyes over the slope of his nose, his knees going flat on the ground while his hand comes up to cup the side of your face. The pad of his thumb tracing the high bone of your cheek while he holds your gaze. He doesn’t care if he misses the fireworks.

“Really, I should thank you for everything you’ve done since I moved here,” you keep going with a low voice, the water lapping against the dock underneath you creating the kind of peace you don’t want to disturb.

The tip of his nose bumps against yours, quick breaths meeting in the middle. All he’d have to do is tilt his head.

“Honey, you saved me.” Steve’s brows furrow when he presses his forehead against yours. 

The sting is happy when you smile at him through glassy eyes, tilting your chin up just enough for your lips to brush.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Color flashes bright in the inky sky, it lights up Steve’s face in red’s and blue’s that sparkle against the jade and chestnut in his eyes. This time the interruption isn’t one that can stop him, closing the space he finally gets to do what he’s wanted to do since that night in his kitchen.

He’s gentle at first, his top lip brushing against your bottom and he loves the way it makes you sigh, giving into him the moment they finally connect. You turn in his lap, your hand finding its way to the back of his neck to pull him closer already needing more, your fingers curl in the soft hair at the base of it, greedy. Colors explode behind your eyes rivaling the ones above you when he dares to lick at your bottom lip, the firework display just the background to the main event when you let him in.

It’s lemonade and mint when his tongue massages slow against yours, his thumb tugging at your chin to open you up more for him. He kisses you like he’s sure of himself, taking his time so he can savor every moment of it like he could do this all night if you’d let him. He would too. The summer of unspoken words and miscommunicated feelings disappear when your lips move with the kind of desperation that comes with letting go. Giving into everything you both tried to fight while your tongues battle for dominance.

It’s too much but not enough all at once, the longer his lips move against yours it’s like they're never meant to be apart, like he didn’t know how he went this long without them.

The fireworks get louder above you signaling that you’re near the end of the show and you wish you had more time, especially when he starts kissing down your neck when he needs to catch his breath. Wet and sloppy, his lips make a sticky mess from all the gloss he collected from you, the watermelon he didn’t get to taste before making itself known. Sugary sweet like the girl in his lap. 

“I know it’s super lame to ask for a second date while on the first one, but that baseball game is next week if you want to go?” He finally speaks, breaking the silence, nudging his nose against yours when he finally stops his assault on your neck, swollen and pink, his lips shine with the evidence of you. 

“Only if you teach me the rules, or I’ll have no idea who to yell angrily at if you don’t.” You grin, nuzzling into his neck.

“Deal.” 

His chest shakes with laughter, while a hand smooths down your back pulling you even closer to him. The smoke from the fireworks still lingers in white wisps in the air. The lapping of the water falling in time with your breathing, while you and Steve enjoy the quiet, letting the crowds go home before you try and make your way back. It’s a night of hushed words, shared secrets, and stolen kisses. 

He walks you home at half past midnight, kissing you till you’re dizzy against your door with a promise of a text in the morning. He stops halfway down the stairs before jogging back up to kiss you again, this one a little tender with a whispered “Sweet dreams tough girl.” attached to it.

You don't need to wish for sweet dreams anymore, not when you have Steve.

———————————————————————

beta’d by @superblysubpar

dividers by @newlips

[myfictionaldreams]

Day 31: Religious Play - Eddie Munson

Summary: You were unsure as to what you'd done to offend the new priest. What's worse is that your mom had invited him over for dinner, where you find him going through your bedside drawer, revealing all of your well-kept secrets.

Before reading: This is (obviously) going to refer significantly to religious practices. I, myself, am not Catholic, so any religious information in this fic is purely from Google and may be incorrect. Additionally, if religion is something that you would potentially find triggering, please do not read. You are in charge of your own media consumption, so read the tags/warnings carefully.

Tags/Warnings: 18+ readers only, smut, dubious content, bad family dynamics, manipulation, religious play, priest kink, sexual coercion, blackmail, mentions of public sexual activities, power play, the act of purifying, deepthroat, begging, non-consensual creampie, rough sex, degrading

masterlist 📚 

kinktober masterlist😈 

AO3 Link 

“Your mom has invited Father Munson over for dinner, by the way, so make sure you’re wearing your Sunday best”. Sitting up further from where you’d been lying on your bed, you turned towards your Dad in the doorway, frowning in confusion at his sentence, the beginnings of anxiety creeping into the centre of your chest.

“Fath-Father Munson? Why would she do that?” Internally cringing at your noticeable stutter, you stood abruptly from the bed, wiping your sweating palms down your jean legs.

“How should I know? You know what she’s like when she gets into these schemes and wanting to kiss the community’s arse. Just make sure you’re more dressed up than what you are now”. Before you could continue the conversation, your frustrated dad walked away, closing your door behind him.

Releasing a long, slow breath, you tried to take a minute not to panic. Your mom was definitely trying to scheme something like your dad mentioned; however, usually, it would be with the sheriff or someone from the council so that she could become friends and find out the latest gossip throughout Hawkins. This made it even more nerve-wracking that she was trying to do this with the priest with whom you had a strained relationship.

Rushing to your wardrobe, you tried to find the most suitable outfit you were saving for a church. A simple light blue dress that ended below the knees, matched with socks, but no point wearing shoes when you were staying in your home. Nervously, you began to dress and prepare for his arrival, hating that it had to be him, of all people.

There was something about him that had your heart beating so hard you were sure your rib cage would crack. The priest was still relatively new to the parish and had been a welcome sight. Considerably younger than the feeble, frail previous priest, Father Munson came to the church with new hope and enthusiasm. His sermons would easily capture the attention of the crowds, which in turn caused more people to attend than ever before.

A large portion of the crowd came to check out his handsome looks. There wasn’t just the age difference compared to the old priest; Father Munson seemed to be the complete opposite of every priest who had ever lived in Hawkins. Curly long hair that would occasionally be tied loosely at the base of his neck, roguish good looks to match the gorgeous caramel eyes that could lure you in with a simple gaze. There was no denying many people's attraction to him, especially yours. For many quiet moments alone, you had fantasised about the priest, even if this was considerably frowned upon as he had sworn his life to the church.

It didn’t help matters that he seemed to act differently with you. With blessing, his hands would linger on your skin, eyes blazing into yours during preaches. You weren’t sure what it was, but he treated you so much differently than others, which made you nervous to be with him, and now he was coming to your home.

A couple of hours later, you were ready for the ground to open up, and you fell into the depths of hell. Father Munson had arrived, wearing his usual dog collar and black jacket outfit that he seems to wear most days, his hair curling over his shoulders and down his back, the fringe naturally laying softly on his forehead. You greeted him with your usual smile and politeness, and there was no denying the glaze over his brown eyes as they wandered over your outfit and to your toes, linger there for a moment too long.

Thankfully, your mother swooped in and began to pester the priest, asking how his day was and over-complimenting to the point your dad was cringing from across the room. Luckily for him, your mom was the home cook and needed to return to the kitchen to prepare the rest of dinner so he could excuse himself, saying he would help her. You knew he wouldn't, and unluckily for you, that meant you were stuck in the living room with just you, the priest and the deafening silence.

“Is this you?” his deep voice had you jumping and gripping your chest as you turned to look at what he was referring to. To your displeasure, he was inspecting the family pictures on the wall, precisely the picture frame that showed you as a child, sitting on a park bench with a cheesy grin.

“Yes, I was five and-” You were beginning to explain the origin of the picture, but he swiftly cut you off, clearly using the picture just as an opener to start his teasing and torment.

“What happened to her?”

“What do you mean, father?” your voice remained neutral, but everything inside of you knew he was baiting you into something.

“This sweet girl in the picture, so innocent and loving. What happened to her? What happened to you? To become the way you are now”. Those soft brown eyes then turn back to you, but you’re quickly looking away to stare at your socks, feeling uneasy under the intensity of his words.

This was always what he would ask and refer to—talking as if you were some impure, degenerate human being when you were anything but that. Well, that was somewhat of a lie. To everyone in Hawkins, you were the loving daughter with plenty of friends, achieved good grades whilst at school and now working in the library to earn a living.  They did not need to know about your activities when out of town, specifically going to watch the rock concerts where alcohol was freely passed between fans, which lowered the inhibitions of the drinkers.

Yes, you’d been promiscuous with a few fellow rockers, but you always made sure to pray for your sins the following night, blaming the intoxication for your actions. However, no one knew of this version of your life as you made sure to drive to a town far enough away that no one you knew could accidentally see you leaving a venue or a motel in the morning.

Looking back up to the priest, you tried to appear confused, “I don’t know what you mean, father? The girl you see in those photos is standing in this very room. Nothing has changed except my age”.

“Hmm, I’m not too sure about that. Nevertheless, I will continue to ask for forgiveness for your sins on your behalf. Otherwise, there would be no hope for someone like you”, he casually remarked with a simple wave of his hand over his shoulder, displaying the collection of silver rings that adorned his fingers.

“Thank you for praying for me, Father, but I don’t believe I need your assistance with-” you began to retaliate, but your parents returning to the room had your mouth slamming shut.

“Dinner’s ready! If you’d like to come through, Father”, your Mom beamed with pride, directing the holy man to the other room where she seated him opposite your chair.

Thankfully, your mom could talk for all of Hawkins and speak at Father Munson rather than allow him to talk. You could keep your head ducked low and push the food around your plate until your parents asked you to tidy the dirty dishes in the kitchen. Even after this, you were forced to listen to the three of them talk about the church and how tainted Hawkins had become in recent years, needing a strong religious figure to lead them to the light.

“Are you sure there isn’t anything we could offer you to drink, Father?” your Mom requested for the fifth time as her glass had been drained of wine again.

The priest shook his head, the curls bouncing around his emotionless face, “No, thank you, ma’am. But, I would appreciate it if you could point me in the direction of your toilet if you wouldn’t mind”.

“Oh, of course! It’s just at the top of the stairs and the second door on the right”.

You watched him stand, straighten his jacket, and walk up the stairs, which were in your eye line. However, once at the top of the stairs, he looked back down at you, the beginnings of a smirk on his lips as he turned left instead of right, which incidentally led him straight towards your bedroom.

Standing so quickly that it caused both of your parents to startle in their seats, you quickly stammered an excuse to run up the stairs, “I think I forgot to close my window! I’ll be back in a moment”.

Your parents grumbled insults under their breath towards your rudeness. Still, you ignored them entirely, climbing the stairs two at a time to race towards your bedroom and hoping to God that the priest had made a simple mistake and just needed clarification of the direction of the bathroom.

As you arrived on the landing, you stared towards your now-closed bedroom door, which had once been open. Opening it with as much urgency as you could muster, you found, to your horror that the priest had entered your safe space and was currently rifling through the secret belongings of your bedside drawer that you swore had been locked before.

“What are you doing?! Those are my private belongings-!” you began, trying to whisper but remaining firm with your questioning as your hands trembled at your side as you knew just the sort of things that were hidden in the bedside draw.

“Do you know what this is?” he asked, sounding as casual as ever but didn’t match the fierce anger swirling in those usually welcoming chestnut-coloured eyes. Your heart momentarily stopped beating in your chest as he held up a small silver device that could be mistaken for lipstick but was undoubtedly anything but something used for cosmetics.

“It’s my lipstick, and I really don’t appreciate you going through my stuff, Father. If we may return to the dinner-” You tried to sound as calm and confident as possible, but once more, he interrupted your attempts to move him out of your bedroom.

“You and I both know that this is not a lipstick. Do you know how to use it properly?” Your entire body burned with embarrassment as your shoulders rolled back, and you held your head high, deciding you wouldn’t answer his question, but his response only made you want to melt into the floor more. “Clearly not by the lack of an answer. Clearly you are being tempted by Satan with some of these behaviours, and ah- it seems your taste in music seems to justify this sort of behaviour”.

Dropping the bullet vibrator back into the draw, the priest lifted a cassette tape of your favourite band, Metallica. You knew of the judgemental and anti-faith stereotypes that came with liking rock and metal music, and yet, you couldn’t help but love the music, having used it as an escape for years. A secret escape at that, having kept it hidden from your parents all these years, which is also why you travelled so far to the concerts to truly be yourself where no one you knew could find you.

“Have you listened to their latest album? Track two is something special”, Father Munson remarked whilst replacing the cassette in its hiding spot. Your mouth was wide with unspoken questions, wanting to splurge out as a thousand thoughts alarmed through your mind.

“You… you listen to Metallica?” you asked in absolute disbelief.

The priest closed the draw slowly, turning to face you ultimately, his eyes lingering on the blue socks on your feet. “What I do outside of the church is none of your concern. But, what you do is mine, especially when I have your parents are so worried about the dark, satanic goings-on that are promoted by this sort of music. I can easily fend off the demon whispering through the lyrics, but you? No, someone like you can be so easily manipulated and tempted by the devil”.

You hadn’t noticed just how close he was until the tips of his shiny leather shoes were touching the tips of your toes. Instinctively, you take a significant step backwards, which, in turn, he follows and steps forward. It’s like a teasing dance until you lose as your back collides with your bedroom wall, and he's leaning his hand against the wall beside your head.

“The devil is not tempting me, and I don’t know why you seem so insistent that I am. I come to church every week, I pray nearly every day, what more do you want from me?” As you speak, you realise just how captivated by his eyes you are, and even though you want to look away, you hold the gaze.

“I want you to believe the things you are saying. I, for one, believe you have already been lured by the demonic forces that can so easily tempt sweet little souls like yours. You need purifying. Need the light to return to your soul or risk being damned forever”. As he spoke, you couldn’t help but glance between his lips and eyes, something he, too, noticed as his thumb and forefinger roughly grabbed the tip of your chin, forcing your face up so you were looking up at the ceiling.

You were sure he would be able to hear your heartbeat with how violently it was pounding in your chest as his face dipped so close to your ear that his hair stroked the soft skin of your cheek. “Want to know why I know the depths of evil have already tainted you? Imagine my surprise as I’m watching one of my favourite bands, and who do I see in the middle of the crowd? I see the innocent librarian, wearing next to nothing and some random man’s tongue in her mouth and fingers in her underwear. Does that ring any bells for you, Sweetheart?”

It did. It had been several months ago, and you were considerably drunk and speaking to this stranger for hours whilst waiting in queue for the concert. You were never one for public indecency, but you were going to blame the alcohol for the fact that he’d fingered you in the middle of the crowd, and after the show, you returned with him to his motel for more erotic adventures.

You felt sick to your stomach and had no idea what to say. Of course, you could deny it, but it seemed a useless task if this had been what was fueling his pestering for all of these months. Furthermore, all you could think about were your parents downstairs and just how much you were at the mercy of the priest in front of you.

“Not so quick to retort now, are you, angel?”

“Please, don’t tell my parents. They hate me enough without knowing this side of my life”. It was hard to plead for something so desperately when you were still left staring at the ceiling, entirely at the mercy of the priest pressed up against you.

There was a moment of pause where images and scenarios of all the potential repercussions flashed through your mind. Your parents kick you out, are a thorough shouting at, and probably lose your jobs due to the rumours and whispers that would spread throughout Hawkins. With no job and nowhere to live, you’ll be on the streets with no food or water and your entire world crumbling around you.

Before any further begging could be done, the grip on your chin was released, and the priest was stepping away from you. More specifically, he was stepping away from your door and towards the stairs that led directly to your parents.

“Stop!” you whispered urgently, trying to grab onto his arm to pull him back, but he was already halfway down the stairs and in the eye-line of your parents, who stopped their conversation to greet their guests with fake smiles.

You nearly slipped on the bottom step as you ran down behind the long-haired priest, trying to think of a way to interrupt whatever he had to say, but your mind was utterly blank of thoughts.

Instead,d you had to stand in horror as you watched his mouth open, “I’m sorry to cut this night short, but I’ve realised that I need to rush back to the church. I had thought the groundsman had been working today to lock the building, but it’s just occurred to me that he’s on holiday, so I must get back to lock up. Unfortunately, the church is quite big so it will take me a bit of time, and your lovely daughter here has offered to help me; I hope you don’t mind. I will drive her safely home once the church is safely locked”.

“Oh? Now… you have to leave now?” your mom questioned uncertainly, glancing between her freshly iced cake left uneaten in the middle of the dinner table.

“What my wife means is that, of course, that is no issue at all. I’m glad my daughter has decided to be helpful in some way. You’re welcome back here any time, Father”, your dad explained, giving a pointed look to his wife before standing and shaking Father Munson’s hand.

This was how you ended up in the passenger seat of the man’s van, your fingers gripping the edge of the seat in desperation. You weren’t sure what was worse. Knowing he didn’t tell your parents now and could at any point in the future or that you were now alone with him with a blatant lie about the church needing locking.

One small part of your internal monologue was jumping for joy, attempting to take in every unique detail you hadn’t noticed before from the man. The van smelled of cigarette smoke, a habit he must have kept secret as you were reasonably sure he wasn’t supposed to indulge in habits such as this to remain a good role model for the community. Surprisingly, he also had a Judas Priest tape playing quietly, his ringed fingers tapping with the rhythm of the guitar. This was only surprising as he wasn’t even attempting to hide his love for the metal band, which gave you one bargaining chip if he ever decided to blackmail you with informing your parents.

“Thank you for not telling my parents. I was worried for a second that you were going too”.

Father Munson glanced over at where you were still clutching to your seat as if it were your lifeline. Even though you weren’t facing him directly, out of the corner of your eyeline, you watched his eyes drop to the bare skin of your shins.

“Who says I won’t be telling them? I just thought it would be easier to be in a holier place, in private, where we could both pray for your sins… extensively”. 

This did nothing to ease your anxiety and embarrassment. Was he expecting you to kneel at the front of the church and beg god to forgive you for the seedy acts you’d done in secret?

Thankfully, the drive was swift enough that you couldn’t dwell on these thoughts. The surrounding area of the church was coated in darkness as the moon was covered by low-lying clouds, which gave the site an even more haunted feeling than usual. Due to this, you regretfully had to stay close to the priest, rushing to get to the double doors of the silent church.

Once inside, you remained at his elbow as he began to turn on the few lights hanging on the wall, illuminating the rows of pews and alter.

“What would you do to be forgiven by God? By me?” You blink, unsure if he was referring to himself as a god or just as the one to allow forgiveness to be given on behalf of the church.

“I’d do anything”.

“Then kneel before the cross, and we will start with the body of Christ”. 

Every Sunday, you completed the action asked. To kneel in front of the cross hanging above the altar as the Priest placed a wafer of bread onto your tongue, followed by a sip of wine. However, doing it now with only Father Munson to witness it felt demeaning. Furthermore, the priest didn’t help with how he placed the wafer onto the flat of your tongue, his thumb pressing firmly so that saliva filled your mouth at the pressure. Next came the wine, which he tilted your head back by pushing your chin so you were staring at the ceiling.

Your mouth was open as he tipped the watered-down wine in, except a single drop slipped past your lips, dribbling down your chin, only to be captured by his thumb and pressed back onto your mouth, where you obediently sucked it clean. You nearly choked on the liquid as the realisation as to what you’d done, and your body unforgivingly began to warm, not from embarrassment but a desire pooling deep within your centre.

Averting your eyes to stare at the floor, you continued to him say the Lord's prayer, which you recounted under your breath, attempting to steer your thoughts away from the damping of your underwear.

“Amen”, his strong voice resonated around the empty church as you repeated the words with a dip of your head. “I don’t think it’s enough just to have the blood and body of Christ inside of you. The actions you have been a part of across the country, the dark music you listen to, I think you need more thorough purifying”.

“Please, Father. I’ll do anything”, you insist whilst remaining on your knees and looking up at him with wide eyes. Even though you were still frightened of the repercussions, your body responded treacherously. “I want you to purify me from my demons, Father”.

The handsome face standing above you tilted, his eyes shadowed now behind his long hair. “When people look at me, they see me as the spokesperson for God and the practices of this church. I am a symbol of everything holy. Some would say that there is nothing more pure than me, leading the way for others to become accepted by God”.

You weren’t sure if it was your hopes and the disconcerting pulse between your legs, but you could have sworn there was an undertone to his words. Carefully, you picked your following words, “If it is you, Father, that I need to rid of these demonic entities, then I will gladly proceed with whatever you deem is necessary”.

“These erotic acts that you have been divulging in, forgetting your faith and allowing the words of the devil to stain your body. The only way to flush these demons out is by replacing them with pure ones, by a holy being. If you want to make God happy and earn his forgiveness, you must earn these rewards. Do you understand what it is that I am saying to you?”

You swallow the thick glob of saliva, continuing to hold his eye contact, ignoring the uncomfortable ache in your knees. As you nodded in understanding, you verbalised, “Yes, Father, I understand”.

Without missing a second, he ordered sternly, “Undo my belt”.

Your fingers lifted to his black leather belt and began to unbuckle it, not wanting to overthink the actions you were doing, even though the bulge in front of you made it evident of his intentions. He held the power of your life and religion in his hands; if he wanted you to pray until the early morning hours, you would. Of course, you knew the manipulation, blackmail and coercion he was currently holding above your head was wrong in every sense of the word. Still, the broken part of you that enjoyed being fingered in the middle of a busy crowd was more than ready to please the priest in any way he deemed necessary.

With his belt now unbuckled and opened, you waited patiently for your following instructions. “Let’s start with ensuring your mouth is purified and cleaned of sins first. What do you think, Sweetheart?”

“Yes, Father”, you replied whilst fixing your stare on his crotch. Carefully, you nimby unbutton and pull down the zipper to his slacks, opening the gap. Reaching inside his stripped boxers, you were able to wrap your fingers around his hard length, surprised to find him thicker than you’d anticipated. Releasing his length from the confines of his clothes, you admired the firmness of the shaft and the way it throbbed as you squeezed him gently.

“Please cleanse me, Father”, you whisper up at him before licking the deep maroon tip of his cock. The priest didn’t so much as sigh at the touch, but the length did harden slightly as you began to leave open-mouth kisses up and down the shaft. 

“Enough. Open your mouth, stick your tongue out”. You did as instructed, sitting back on your heels to await his next move, but it seemed he had other ideas as he placed one hand on the back of your head, and the other supported his cock at the base. Stepping forward, he directed his cock into your mouth, sliding it against your tongue until he was hitting the back of your throat.

You were only just able to suck in a deep breath before he was pushing further in, your eyes filling with tears at the stimulation that was too much, but you wanted to impress him, so you attempted to relax the muscles of your throat. Finally, this earned you a satisfied grunt as the priest watched his dick disappear into your mouth.

Father Munson then proceeded to fuck your throat with the pressure from his hand on the back of your head, keeping you in place and entirely at his mercy. Saliva was soon dripping down your chin, but the sloppiness of it all only made him more frantic and harder with his thrusts. You weren’t able to take his entire length before you were gagging and pushing on his thighs to allow you a moment to breathe through your nose.

Suddenly, he was yanking back your head, pulling himself entirely out of your mouth, “I don’t think it would be as beneficial to allow the purification to happen down your throat. Come here”. With his hands now held out for you to hold, you did so tightly, grasping the rings and allowing them to cool the heated skin of your palm.

Your legs struggled to hold up any of your weight from being on your knees for such a long time, so the priest had to carry you over to the alter practically and have you lying face first over the table. Sighing at the contact and now having to worry about keeping yourself upright anymore, you looked over your shoulder to Father Munson, who was admiring the back of your legs.

Wishing for the wait to be over, needing the fire in your belly to be eased in some way, you wiggled your hips invitingly. “Please, Father Munson, I need you to help me. I want to be cleaned by God’s touch”.

You could have sworn that the man growled under his breath as he lifted your skirt. The apples of your cheeks warmed as he didn’t even pull down your underwear completely; he simply moved it to the side. You could only gasp at the coolness of the air touching your soaked pussy.

A subtle kick to the insides of your feet had you widening your stance so the priest could move in closer between your legs. You watched over your shoulder as he dipped his height slightly, and then you could feel the firmness of his length pressing against your folds, swiping up and down, trying to find its home and then nudging into your hole.

You raised onto your tip toes as the pressure intensified, your hole stretching enough that a dull ache formed in the gummy walls. Your eyes closed as well, thoughts zoning onto the cock now penetrating your body. He was entirely overwhelming, yet you never wanted that sensation to end, as scandalous and against the rules as this was.

“Good girl, let me in, that’s it”, he praised, watching your pussy take inch after inch of his cock. You whimpered at the praise and intrusion, and when you reached behind to try and keep him from entering anymore as you needed a moment to adjust, he grabbed onto your hand and held it to your lower back and thrust in the remainder of the way.

“God!” you shouted out with spite.

Father Munson chuckled, his hand squeezing yours, “That’s exactly right. God. He’s here to ensure you’re thoroughly cleansed, Sweetheart”.

Your entire body shivered as he began to ease out, your cunt shrinking back to its original size before stretching once more as he thrust in. It seemed the priest wouldn’t wait, needing to do his work thoroughly and deeply.

His thrusts had your body rocking back and forth on the stone altar. The obscenity of your cries echoing around the silent church only made this entire situation feel more intense for you. What’s worse is that when you finally opened your eyes, you were forced to gaze up at the statue of Jesus on the cross, watching the entire scene unfold.

“That’s right, they’re all watching. Making sure all the demons have escaped your body. That you now truly belong to the church. No song or man will ever lure you to the devil. Only God and I have permission to have your soul and body. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Father”, you cried out around the deep moans of pleasure. Even though you were trembling, it was like nothing you’d ever experienced. Other than the watered-down wine, there wasn’t a drop of alcohol in your system. It felt incredibly taboo to be fucking the priest in the middle of his church, and yet, there you were, begging him not to stop.

The cock that continued to pound into your cunt expertly stroked every beautiful spot that had you verging on the edge of an orgasm. Tingles deep in your belly and running down your thighs to the tips of your toes. You were so close that you were almost unaware that the priest was near to his orgasm. Almost. You had nearly fallen so far into the fantasy that you’d momentarily forgotten what his main goal was. To penetrate you with his pure seed to rid your body of the demons.

“Wait, you can’t cum inside of me”, you urgently say, looking over your shoulder towards the man who now had wildly unkept hair and a blush rosing the skin of his neck that you could see.

“How did you expect to have God’s forgiveness if you can’t have my pure seed soaking you from the inside?” You were too far gone to care about the repercussions as you came with violent squeezes of your pussy around his cock. The tightness with which you squeezed him only helped to milk him for every single drop of cum that came flooding into the deepness of your cunt.

Still reeling over the high that was easing through your system, you were only half aware of the priest grunting the Lord's pray as his thrusts came to a stop. A heavy hand on your hip kept you pressed against the stone altar as he pulled out and replaced your panties into the correct position.

“You must keep this inside of you tonight for the full potential of the Lord's work to unravel. Understand, Sweetheart?”

“Yes, Father”.

[beansprean]

MORE ATLANTIS AU...

ty to @gerandor for the persian translations <3

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Full body of Guillermo, dressed like Milo Thatch from Atlantis in jodhpurs and a tank top, sitting up against a mossy rock. The crucifix around his neck is tucked to one side under his shirt, and the strap on the opposite side is shrugged off his shoulder to reveal a small cut under his collarbone. Nandor, dressed in an Atlantic version of his usual outfit in purples and blues, leans in over him, one hand braced on Guillermo's knee, to lick the wound. Guillermo is startled at this, turning bright red.

2a. Full body of human Nadja dressed like Audrey in overalls, boots, and a flat cap. She is lounging on the ground, one elbow braced on her knee to lean her knuckles on her cheek. A voice offscreen asks, "What happened to your sister?" Nadja replies casually, "She's 24 and 0 with a shot at the title next month. In a separate bubble is a smal drawing of Dolly with her hair in twin buns, wearing a sports bra and boxing gloves. 2b. Waist up of human Laszlo dressed as Sweet, in a white coat with a stethoscope around his neck. Guillermo, the side of his face visible in the foreground, nervously asks, "...Where did you get your medical license again?" Laszlo looks at him with a confused grin, holding up a shiny metal saw in his hand, and responds, "My what?" 2c. Bust of Colin Robinson, dressed as a mixture of Mole and Vinny in a gray turtleneck, brown fingerless gloves, and leather bomber hat with goggles and a lit flex light, on a striated brown background. He is holding up one finger and explaining, "It's arkose! Appears to be made from mainly quartz and feldspar, so one can presume there was volcanic activity nearby in the last few thousand years that formed it. If the caldera is still present, it's almost certainly dormant based on the strata patterns. In looking at the thickness and statistically likely set of materials we can't currently see, this gorgeous wall of rock has to be at least a 7 on the Mohs hardness scale. Which was introduced in 1812 and is therefore consistent with our 1914 setting." 2d. Repeat. Colin grins, eyes going large and excited as he holds up a lit stick of dynamite and declares, "All this to say, we could dig it, and I would love how time-consuming and tedious it would be, but we're probably better off blowing it up."

3a. Waist up of Guillermo on a foresty background of hanging lichen and persian silk, a satchel slung across his shoulders and an old book titled 'vampyr' clutched to his chest. He has one finger held up in his free hand, looking upwards in concentration as he attempts to speak in persian. He says ما قصد جنگ نداریم, meaning "we don't intend to fight," but mispronounces قصد (ghasd) as کصد (kasd). Nandor, standing in front of him and fiddling his fingers together, grimaces at this and says "Ehhhmm... Perhaps you can just speak in English?" 3b. Full body from behind as they walk away together, Nandor with his hands held loosely behind his back and Guillermo stuffing his book back into his bag. He asks, "Was it that bad?" Nandor replies, "Eeh, I have heard worse. But you speak it through your nose." He then repeats (ghasd) with proper pronunciation, which Guillermo attempts to emulate but pronounces even more incorrectly as گصد (gas).

4a. Waist up of Guillermo on a misty background, soaking wet with his tank top clinging to him and his crucifix shining around his neck. Two shadowy figures at each shoulder are holding his arms behind his back. Guillermo struggles against them and shouts angrily, "This was all for a stupid hat??" 4b. Knees up of human Simon the Devious as Commander Rourke, dressed in a green tank top tucked into khakis. He is holding up the witch's skin hat reverently in both hands and turns his face toward Guillermo with an unhinged grin, eyes wide and fully out of touch with reality. He replies, "Did I plan, fund, and retain international clearance for a long term undersea expedition to lands unknown for the sole purpose of regaining access to Laszlo's personal effects that I might take back what is rightfully mine - this witch's clit of a hat? Yes. Yes, I did." Behind him, Laszlo and Nadja stand in shocked anger and resigned irritation, respectively. /end ID

[sportswriters]

you're jealous? - p. gavi

pairing: pablo gavi x female!reader | f | established relationship | wc: 1.646 | warnings: none

welcome post! “get out, pedri.”

you hear your boyfriend’s laughter echoing from the driver’s seat, pedri looks at you with a frown, but opens the front door and finally gets out. he stares at you and rolls his eyes, but even though he’s annoyed that you kicked him out of the front seat next to gavi, he kisses you cheek affectionately.

“i got here first, you know?” he complains.

you shrug, return the kiss on his cheek and get into the seat he was sitting in before, careful not to wrinkle your loose dress. it took you a while to find  the right outfit and you were still a little unsure about the event. gavi is dressed in a black suit, similar to pedri’s, his hair messy, exuding the perfume you know so well.

“would you throw anyone out or is it just because it’s pedri?” your boyfriend asks.

you put on your seatbelt and lean in close enough to steal a kiss from his lips.

“it’s just because it’s pedri,” you reply, mocking.

pedri protests behind you and nips you right in the ear. you glare at him, but turn to your boyfriend in the driver’s seat. when he starts the car again, you grimace and turn to pedri.

“his he driving better than last time?”

pedri laughs.

“what was the last time?”

“oh, you know,” you moisten your lips and move a shoulder. “when he almost ran over that fan at the entrance to the stadium?”

“that was two days ago, y/n,” pedri says with a laugh.

“so the answer is no?” you whine.

“hey!” your boyfriend protests, leaving one hand on the wheel, his attention on the road and using his free hand to squeeze your thigh. “i’m listening, you know?”

you smile and squeeze his hand on your thigh, while he returns concentrating on driving and the three of you start chatting about random things — it distracts you from the nervousness of attending the event. it wasn’t anything too important, just a social thing to promote a new documentary the team has been making for the launch and all the players, their respective girlfriends and family members would be there, as well as the media outside.

nobody apart from the team and the people closest to you knew that you were gavi’s girlfriend. media exposure has always been a fear, mainly because gavi has a lot of young fans and the risk of receiving hate was huge enough for you to have agreed not to make the relationship public yet, coupled with the fact that gavi likes to keep his personal life private, despite his fame.

you were friends before everything. people still think so, although there are rumors. after gavi’s injury, the two of you became even closer and ended up confessing your feelings to each and two weeks later, he asked you to be his girlfriend.

he parks the car and three of you get out, while he hands the key to the valet. as soon as you get in, there’s a carpet that imitates a red entrance and you walk past it, quickly posing for photos and the entering the venue.

“i’m going to find the guys,” pedri announces. “i’m not really into third wheeling.”

gavi laughs, but you roll your eyes and watch the midfielder walk away to join the boys from the team. it’s a nice atmosphere, there’s soft music playing and lots of familiar people, but you feel tense. gavi notices and moves closer, placing his hand lightly on the base of your waist and you immediately feel your muscles relax. it's amazing how he had a calming effect on you.

“are you okay?” he asks you.

you take a deep breath and turn your face just enough towards him, opening a smile to soothe the wrinkle of worry that has appeared on his forehead.

“i’m fine, i promise.”

he looks at you for a moment, but you don’t want to talk about your insecurities, so you take the lead before he asks anything else.

“shall we say hello to the guys?”

he nods, leaving the subject for later. his hand is still on your waist the two of you walk through the hall, greeting acquaintances. you keep a genuine smile on your lips, acting sincere in your friendly conversations and enjoy gavi’s comments in your ear. he had a unique talent for making you feel relaxed in front of everyone like that and you heart leapt for him.

at some point, you were stopped by two girls — who looked to be about your age, both with big smiles on their faces — but you didn't know them. they must have been someone's daughters or something.

“i'm sorry to bother you,” one of them says, the one with the blonde hair, looking directly at gavi, as if you didn't even exist, even though his hand keeps holding you by the waist. “but we're both really big fans of yours, gavi. could you take a picture with us?”

you don't mind him giving attention to his fans. in fact, you make a point of putting him at ease by doing this.

“of course,” gavi replies.

the girls join in and he just moves away enough to fit through the screen of their camera, his hand still on your waist. you tried to move away, giving them space, but gavi insisted on not letting you get away from him.

“thank you, it looks amazing!” the second one says, with black hair.

“it's true, you look hot!” the blonde adds.

the sound of their laughter reaches your ears and you start to feel ridiculous for being annoyed. they're just some fans meeting an idol, their behavior tends to be a bit unusual and you try to take it in your stride.

“didn't you say he was your type, sash?” the black-haired girl asks with an annoying chuckle.

you purse your lips and force a smile onto your face, but none of them pay any attention to you. gavi doesn't say anything, he's just nice enough to remain with a polite smile on his face. you stare at him for a moment.

“broke!” the one called sash complains, but laughs and turns to gavi. “sorry about that. but you're single, right? i'd love to give you my number.”

that’s the last straw for you. jealousy starts to eat you up inside and gavi isn't saying anything, so you lock your jaw and walk away from him, feeling the need to look for a drink, anything. you leave him alone there, with the two of them boldly hitting on him, and you were right next to him. he had his hand around your waist! of course he's not single.

you snort and walk over to the bar, ordering a glass of champagne, something light. you didn't notice the moment gavi came up behind you until he appeared at your side with a confused expression.

“what was that, y/n?” he asks, confused by your sudden behavior.

you stare at him.

“what do you think that was?” you snap, a little annoyed, but he doesn't seem to understand. “you had your hand around my waist and they had the audacity to ask if you were single?!”

his expression softens and he smiles. gavi touches your arm.

“you’re jealous?” he asks, but you don't answer and turn your face to accept the glass of champagne the barman hands you. “come on, you can't make a big deal out of it.”

you take a sip of the drink and narrow your eyes in his direction, wondering if he really meant what he just said. yes, you're seething with jealousy, of course. you wouldn't react any differently to two women hitting on your boyfriend like that and you wouldn't make a scene. not in front of everyone.

so what if they don't know he's dating, since you haven't published anything? his hand on your waist should be enough of a sign that at least he was accompanied.

“really?” you squeak, one eyebrow raised. “so i can let pedri hold me the same way, since it's no big deal?”

he grimace and you know he didn't like it.

“i didn't mean it like that,” he defends himself, grumpily.

you smile, victorious.

“next time, use your voice to communicate that you're no longer single,” you warn, taking another sip.

he comes closer and puts his hand on your waist again, he kisses your exposed shoulder and you sigh at the contact.

“i think it's time to make our relationship public to avoid this kind of situation, then,” he proposes.

you stare at him, wondering if he's serious.

“are you sure?”

he lifts his face towards you and smiles, his face too close to yours. you don't even care if you're in a public place anymore.

“we'll only do this if it doesn't make you uncomfortable," he says. “but yes, i'm sure. it's time to show them that i'm yours.”

your heart races and you turn to him, happiness showing on your face. you may deal with insecurities, you may receive hate messages, but it's all worth it with him by your side. you wrap both hands around his neck.

“i love you.”

gavi smiles and kisses your lips quickly, taking the suggestion of making your relationship public as a positive response. he’ll make sure of doing this when you leave the event.

“i love you, y/n,” he declares. “but i hope that was the last time you used pedri as an example to touch you like that.”

he grimaces again and you laugh, shaking your head. the next thing you do is seal your lips to his once more, oblivious to any public gaze that might be directed at you, because there's nothing you want more at the moment than to let people know that he is yours.

[spidernuggets]

Hi! First time requeating something and i hope i’m doinv it right, but if you want could you write Reader meeting Jason’s family? Like, titans + bruce and his siblings? Ans Reader is nervous cause she doesn’t know how they’ll react to her and she wants to make a good impression and she’s anxious n stuff? Tysm! 🩷🩷

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

OH MY DAYSSS, your first time requesting?!?! And you picked lil ol' me?!?! Got me blushing and kicking my feet. ANYWAYS, i hope this fic brings you justice to your request. If you don't mind, I'll split it into two, half for Titans, other for Batfam!!

BATFAM (based on WFA):

You were pacing around the steps of Wayne Manor. Jason wanted to bring you up to the manor with him, but he wanted to make sure all his siblings and Bruce stayed in check before you arrived. In all honesty, he was more concerned about his family's behaviour rather than yours. He also doesn't really care what his family thinks of you. If they don't like you, screw it. He'd pick you up, throw you into a plane, and move to a beautiful island with you.

You were biting your nails, but then realised that you were standing in front of the richest man's, let alone Batman's house, and biting your nails might make you look bad for Jason. Then you looked at your nails. The polish was chipped, and your nails were jagged. And your skin seemed dry. God, no, now they were sweating?!

One little thought led to another. How did your outfit look? Shit, is it creased? Is that a stain? Maybe you should've worn something more formal, more expensive, perhaps.

Your body moved faster than your brain could think and turned, wanting to make a run for it. But before you could take another step, a certain butler opened the doors.

"Ah! And you must be Ms. Y/n, correct?" The old man asks, a welcoming smile on his face.

Your shaking hands wiped the thin sweat away along your pants as you turned and an awkward grin on your own face. "U-uh, yeah. Yes, I am. Hi." You stammer, reaching your hand out as Alfred shakes it.

"My, you're as wonderful as Master Jason decribed you as. Come in, come in," he steps aside, letting you in.

Okay. Maybe this whole family meeting thing isn't as bad as it-

"So you're Todd's girlfriend?" A short boy who appeared out of nowhere says.

You look down on him. Thinking he'd be as nice as Alfred, you tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, smiled and replied, "Yeah, I am. You must be Damian?"

Damian tilts his head to the side and hums. "Do you participate in any form of combat?" He asks, as if it's a normal question to ask someone you meet for the first time.

"Uhm... No.?"

"Hm. I would've thought Todd would have dated someone similar to him," the kid mutters. That statement made your knees shakier than they should have.

"Alright, scram, brat." You've never felt more relieved to have heard your boyfriend's voice. The last time you felt this relief was when you were held at gunpoint, and luckily, Jason showed up right on time.

"Tt. You were the one who wanted us to meet her," Damian scoffs.

"Yeah, and now your time is up. Thanks for letting her in, Alfred," Jason says as Alfred nods and heads off to fulfil other responsibilities, and Damian also leaves, most likely to tend to Titus. "Don't worry about Dami, sweet thing. He's like that to everyone," he kisses your forhead.

You lean against his shoulder. "But I need everyone to like me!" You complain.

He rolls his eyes. "I'm the only person who needs to like you. If no one else does, fuck them. Besides, there's literally no reason for anyone not to like you," he wraps his arm around your shoulders, guiding you to the living room where everyone was.

"Okay, everyone. This is Y/n," Jason says upon walking in. The second everyone's eyes were on you, you wanted you run away, jump out the window, have the floor swallow you whole. Anything to get you out of this situation.

You were sure there would be questions bombarding you like Damian's, like, "Are you skilled in any area of combat?", "Do you know how to use any weaponry?"

Or even questions like, "Do you really like Jason, or are you in it just for the money?", "What’s your social status?", "What’s your occupation?"

What you didn't expect was a blonde girl rushing over to you, embracing you in a warm, tight hug.

"Hi! Oh my gosh, you're Y/n! I've been dying to meet you! But Jason's been hiding you away for a while," she frowns at Jason, who was behind you. Another girl, short black hair, stood behind the blonde, waving at you with a small smile. "Oh, yeah! I'm Stephanie, that's Cassandra! You can call us Steph and Cass!" She points to Cassandra.

Jason holds onto your shoulders behind you. "Okay, okay, back off, Steph," he tries pushing you away to meet the others, but Stephaine is just so keen on meeting you.

"Ugh," Stephanie scoffs, linking your arm with hers. "Jason always was so down bad for you. He literally wouldn't stop talling about you," she says while giggling while also making you blush.

Jason flicks Stephanie's forhead. "Ow! Asshole," she mutters, letting go of you. "Anyways," she starts pointing around the room. "That's Tim, Dick, Duke, and Barbara!"

"Hello," you shyly say, waving to the group.

"So you're the girl that was able to swoon Jason," Dick got up from the couch and walked towards you. "Finally, nice you meet you. My compliments to you. You really know how to tame him," Dick smirks at Jason, who was currently shooting daggers back at his older brother.

"You sure he didn't like... pay you or anything to date him?" Tim shouts from the couch.

"Quiet, nitwit," Jason yells back.

"Behave. The both of you," a deeper voice behind you said, making you flinch.

As things were getting good, you turned and saw the man of the house, making you feel smaller than you already were. "Hi- Ahem, hello, Mr. Wayne," you squeaked, feeling the need to curtsey.

Bruce smiles down at you. "Bruce is fine, Y/n. It's a great pleasure to meet you," Bruce extends his hand out to greet you, and you hope he doesn't notice your clammy hands and shakiness as you shook his hand.

"It's great to meet you, too. All of you," you say back to the rest of the family before looking back up at Jason. He sends you a wink back, telling you that there was nothing to worry about.

A bark came from behind Bruce. He steos to the side and reveals Damian and Titus. The two walked by as Damian muttered that they might as well join the rest of the family.

Your nerves were suddenly put aside. "You have a Great Dane?" You gasped, holding your hand out to the dog. Titus slowly walks up to you, first sniffing your hand, then taking a lick, accepting your affections as you begin to pet him.

"Mm. She's an acceptable partner, Todd," Damian looks up to his older bother as he observes your encounter with his pet.

"Yeah, whatever. I wasn't even looking for your validation," Jason bites back. But deeo down, he's glad his family liked you. This meant less work of him trying to praise you if any of his family tried to criticise you or your relationship.

"So. How was that?" Jason asks, walking you out of the manor, offering to give you a ride home.

You smiled up at him. "Fun. Went better as expected."

TITANS:

He kisses the back of your hand. "Told you they'd love you, sweet thing. Not as much as I do, though."

"Nope, I don't wanna do this anymore," you say out of nowhere. You and Jason were already at the entrance of Titans Tower. And Jason being his bragging self, couldn't stop talking about his amazing, beautiful girlfriend to the rest of the Titans.

And a certain comment from Rachel, saying she doesn't believe this girlfriend he's talking about is real, Jason promised to bring you up to introduce you to everyone.

You were eager to meet everyone, but on the way to the tower, you started thinking about everyone and everything. They're all badass heroes, some wirh powers. And even those with no powers can still fight like crazy. And you were just some mundane civilian who didn't even pack a punch.

If you were a member of the Titans, you also wouldn't believe that Jason is dating the kind of person he's describing. And don't get yourself started on his ex-girlfriend.

Rose fucking Wilson.

You heard plenty of her. How she used Jason and the Titans, yet somehow is still a member?

And how she's also a badass who can use swords... And how she can't necessarily die... and how she has cool hair and an eyepatch...

Jason grabs onto your wrist. "And why not?" He asks, preventing you from walking away.

Your shoulders dramatically slump, and you pout. "They're gonna hate me! And don't say they won't, because if they don't hate me, then they'll definitely think I'm some lame person who just lies in her couch all day," you felt like you wanted to cry. You weren't sure if you were overreacting, but this isn't just some simple introduction with other people. This is meeting with Jason's teammates. A group of heroes, vigilantes, who saves lives for a living!

Jason'a gaze softens, taking into account your anxious state. "Hey," he gently calls out, brushing your hair away from your face and cradles your cheeks. "They're not gonna hate you. But, listen. If you don't want to do it, that's okay, I won't force you to," he kisses your nose. The light touch makes you giggle.

You take in a deep breath. "No, it's fine. I want to meet them."

He raises an eyebrow. "Are you sure? You don't have to-"

You hold his hands in yours, turning your face to kiss both of his rough palms before leaning into his touch. "I'm sure."

Jason leans his forhead against yours in reassurance before the two of you head up in the elevator.

You couldn't help but laugh after feigning annoyance when the elevator doors open, and the first thing Jason said was, "I told you she's real, motherfuckers!"

You noticed a green haired boy clap his hands in victory, receiving cash from a buffer guy with a superman symbol on his black shirt, and from a purple haired girl. You also noticed a thorny Rose Wilson, sitting beside the other girl, keeping a sharp eye on you, but you made it your best to avoid any form of contact with her.

Jason had an arm protectively wrapped around your waist as he walked you further into the lobby.

Dawn was the first one to walk up to you. To be honest, if you weren't head over heels for Jason, you probably would've tried swoon Dawn. (I'm sorry, she's just so pretty)

"You're Y/n?" She asks as she walks to you.

"Hi.. yeah, I am," you reply, shaking her hand.

"Aw, well. Jason told us all about you," she sends a knowing wink to Jason. If she knew Jason didn't want her to say anything to you yet, she would've told you all about how he came up to her, asking about what girls like, how to ask you out, how to plan the perfect first date, etc. But that didn't stop her from teasing and testing Jason's shyness. "He honestly couldn't stop talking about you. Especially ever since Rachel said you weren't real," she sends a look and raised eyebrow to Rachel. Rachel just rolls her eyes and smiles at the memory before turning to talk with Gar.

"Well, I can promise everyone I'm a hundred per cent real," you reply, leaning closer into Jason's hold.

"Jason, where have you bee- Oh. Are.. you the girlfriend?" A guy emerges from the hallway, walking over towards you two.

"Hi, yeah. And you're Dick?" You shake his hand, too as you introduced yourself.

"Yeah. Jason's talked a lot about you," Dick says, raising his eyebrows at his younger brother.

You couldn't stop yourself from smiling, hearing about all the times Jason has talked about you. "So I've heard."

"Well, welcome. I'd love to get to know more about you, but Jason. I need you to help me with a few things. It was nice meeting you, Y/n," Dick says before leaving, walking back where he came out from.

Jason rolls his eyes before stepping in front of you, holding your shoulders. "You gonna be okay on your own? It's only gonna be for a bit," Jason asks with concern.

You smile, holding onto his face before kissing his cheek. "I'll be fine, Jay."

He brings you in for a hug. "Ignore Rose. If she says anything, tell me, okay?" He whispers into your ear. You hum in response, kissing his shoulder before he lets go, kissing the back of your hand, and running off towards the same direction as Dick.

You were wrong. You were awkwardly standing there for a few seconds, not knowing where to go, what to do, or what to say. And from the corner of your eye, you could see Rose smirking at your current situation.

You thanked the gods when Dawn came back with Hank.

"It's Jason's girlfriend!" She almost squealed.

"Did he pay you or anything to date him?" Was the first thing Hank said. Dawn hit him against his bicep.

"Be nice," she said to him.

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered. "Nice to meet you," he says, offering you a fist bump, in which you retunred one to him.

Then, from behind them, you saw a vibrant pink haired woman. Damn, all these people have cool hair.

"Oh, you must be Y/n! I'm Kory," She doesn't hesitate to give you a welcoming hug once ciming up to you.

"Hi, yeah, I am. Cool hair," you try to say with confidence.

"Hm, Jason was right. You are sweet. And pretty," she winked. This made your heart race faster. "You want anything, sweetie? A drink? Food, snack?" She asked while walking over to the kitchen.

"Oh, no, I'm fine. Thanks." You call back out to her. That was a half lie. You were sort of in need of a drink. All these nerves and handshakes got your throat drying up.

Hank grunts. "You sure he didn't pay you? You're like the complete opposite of Jason Todd."

You laugh. "Yeah, he's a hot head a lot of the times."

"All the time," Hank interrupts.

"Yeah, fine. All the time," you correct yourself. "But he's actually really sweet. And real attentive too," you quietly admit, knowing Hank probably wouldn't let Jason hear the end of it.

Hank nods in surprise. "Well, maybe he isn't such an asshole. I'll still find a reason to kill him, though," he grins before walking away.

Dawn shakes her head. "He's not gonna kill him. C'mon, sit." Dawn leads you to the couch to sit on the other side of Rachel. Kory comes up, placing some snacks on the table for the others and hands you a bottle of coke as you quietly thank her.

"Rachel," Rachel introduces herself, offering her hand to shake.

You smile, "Y/n," you shake her hand.

"It's so great to meet you! I'm Gar," the green haired boy smiles. "Rach and Conner believed that Jason was lying about you being real. But thanks, because I just gained ten bucks!" He laughed, waving the money around as you laughed with him.

"So, Y/n," Rose chimes. You and Rose haven't officially met, but knowing what she did to Jason made you automatically hate her. "How did you and Jason meet?"

It was an innocent question that the rest would probably like to know. So you didn't show any signs of disliking yet.

"Oh, uhm, we met at the store I work at-"

"What store?" She interrupts, making a nerve inside you twitch.

"Uhm, a book store. It's also a cafe. I own it," you meekly reply while still maintaining your posture.

"Oh. You know, for a person dating Jason, I expected another vigilante. Or, y'know. Somewhere along the lines," she smirks.

You shrug. "Mm, well. Jason's a bookworm. Not a lot of people know that," you feign an innocent smile to Rose.

"Oh yeah. He told me some stuff about theatre and how he was quite a theatre nerd himself-"

"Thespians. He likes them to be called thespians." You interrupt her. Your shaken nervers were replaced by spite, wanting to put Rose in her place.

"So," Gar tries to break off any possible dispute. "Y/n, how long have you and Jason been dating?"

"Uhm.." You pretend to give it some thought, wanting it to seem like a longer time than Rose anticipated. "Six? Reaching up to seven months now," you reply, knowing that Rose and Jason only lasted less than a month.

You mentally punch the air in victory as Rose rolls her eye and gets up from the couch and leaves, saying she's getting herself coffee.

At the same time, Jason comes back with Dick, sending him a couple of scoffs and glares after saying, "He took too much time from him away from his girl."

"Seriously," Rachel says, scooching closer to you, "What do you see in that guy?" She quietly and genuinely asks, since all her previous encounters with Jason weren't really sunshine and rainbows.

You smile to yourself and look over the couch, watching Jason flip Hank off for no reason, your smile growing wider. "He makes me laugh," you replied.

"So? Wasn't so bad, was it?" Jason asks as the two of you walk out of the tower, ready to go home. His arm is laying around your shoulders as your head lays onto his own.

You hum in response. "They're really nice."

He kisses the crown of your head. "What about Rose? She give you any trouble?" He asks with genuine worry.

"Nothing I can't handle," you smile up at him, kissing his chin.

"That's my girl," he says back, pulling you closer, capturing your lips against his.

You guys see what i did there... at the end... was the reference obvious...

HOPE U ENJOYED, ANON!!

[a-whispering-echo]

thinking about the band boys getting married-

For one, obviously they legally CANT get all married to EACH OTHER, so, i imagine what theyd do, is pair up, have a 'joint' wedding day, where Horror would stay the only 'non wedded' one because he doesnt want to risk loosing his disability benefits in he married, if, god forbit, they didnt all work out, leaving him broke - SO- pair up, have all matching rings, including Horror in it, have Dust and Cross, and Killer and Nightmare (or some variation of that) get married to each other, on the same day, and the same place, at the same time, and ALL call each other husbands.

How many of them would WANT to get married? i think Cross would 100% want to- i think hed LOVE the idea of calling his long time partners his 'husband' - dude would SO cry on his wedding day.

I think Nightmare would too - maybe not as much as Cross does, but i think he'd like things like the sharing assest, and for their family being LEGALLY tied together, for things like inheritance reasons, hospital visits, possibly children based things if they went down that road. i think itdd be a HUGE relief off his shoulders for them to know they'd all be safe if something happened. Remember, Nightmare comes from an old money, rich history, and even WITH the band making a large amount of money, i think he'd appreciate the safety net should thinks suddenly take a drop.

Dust honestly couldnt give two shits. dude would show up to his wedding in a hoodie and sweats if his partners didnt force him to dress nice.

Killer wouldnt care about the actual MARRIAGE bit, they'd just want the big party and the pretty outfits that come with them. Hed love to do those silly wedding traditions, like tossing the bouquet, cutting the cake, wearing something so fancy it makes heads turn...

Horror would be much the same as Cross, i think. even if hes not LEGALLY getting married, i think hed be over the MOON with calling them all his husbands.

What would they wear? well-

Nightmare dresses so formal ALL THE TIME, so i think he'd want something that is MORE than just his everyday suits. something moon themed, obviously, nice cufflinks, maybe something with a nice dark overcoat that drapes across the floor; maybe hed go more 'vampire' with it. he'd want to look like ROYALTY. maybe hed even wear a crown.

Cross would want to go fairly standard an traditional, i think. just a nice tux, nice an simple, but fancy and elegant at the same time. i dont think he'd care what he wore really, hes not here for the dress up or the party, but the end result. maybe Killer convinces him to wear something a little more 'whine night' themed. maybe a cross-over panelled jacket, with chains and gems over it in his pocket, maybe a sash - i think Cross would do whatever his partners want, fundamentally, cus he knows it would make them happy.

Horror would be fairly boring too, i think. maybe just some suit. though, with his -as the orphanage and fostor system told him- scottish heritage, maybe he'd wear a kilt. Horror would be VERY fond of tartan, i think. and hes always been font of a good edgy rip in his clothing, so maybe hed go for something purposefully distressed - again, maybe with the chains, something a bit punk but still formal.

Now, despite me saying earlier that Dust wouldnt give a shit, i think, after so much though has been put in his husbands-to-be's outfits, hed start feeling a bit embarrassed that he didnt really put much thought into his own. i think, eventually, he would decide to wear a hanbok for his wedding, have his hair pulled back into a lovely pin up, with pins and such, maybe even go for some pale foundation, and rosy cheeks, because he KNOWS it'd make his partners swoon. i think that seeing as he going korean traditional with it mostly, hed want SOMETHING a little more western too, to join BOTH sides of his heritage. maybe he wears a veil, in pretty white; something to cover his head in the way that brings him comfort, and still look 'wedding' - maybe he wears a hanbok in white and gold, still with the more traditional red and blue elements in it still, but primarily white, just to say 'yes, im one of the grooms, thanks'

Killer... oh, Killer. i think Killer would get SO antsy over what hes going to wear. its his BIG DAY, and he NEEDS to look PERFECT! i think hed work himself into a tizzy trying to decide on suit, dress, style, cut - that hed freak and have to have his partners calm him down and work through it. his first thought is suit, but then he feels like thats too BORING, and not THEM enough! so i think it'd then start considering dresses - but GOD so many STYLES! something more slim sitting and sleek? something more poofy, like a princess dress> and THEN theres the problem of wedding dressed being designed for feminine body times, of which they do NOT have, so nothing FITS when hes trying things on! and then, there the idea of WHITE, because, like, he looks GREAT in white, dont get hims wrong! but at the same time, Killers VERY antitraditional, and the white was always about the purity and virginity of the bride, of which he is NEITHER - so-? NO. i think eventually, hed decide to get a custom made outfit for itself. He eventually decides on a dress, but with a few modifications. it want leather in there; a nice leather bodice, with layers of black leather in the skirt, with white lace over the top, a nice long white train to the dress, that spattered with red splashes to look like blood, he wants chains, and studs, and a suit jackets over the bodice, he wants a veil with 'blood splattered' over it he wants it torn, with a spiky headdress, and chairs dripping down from ot over his face, he wants something that screams KILLLER - something original, something pretty and feminine, but something rough and edgy and masculine too. THATS what he wants.

and i think he'd have to get it custom made too - which means it'd cost a FORTUNE, which, logically they can afford, and would realistically barely make a DENT in their savings, but still, Dust who grew up homeless, eating from trash cans and saving every penny, would GAG at the thought of spending 380,000$ on a fucking DRESS-

[mischiefmaker615]

The Boy is Mine

Rating: R

Summary: Loki finds you after dark.. but who owns who? 

Note: Based off the song The Boy is Mine by Ariana Grande

Requester: @Laer111ee (wattpad)

*Insert slut song here First and play as you read LOL*

Your hips swayed from side to side as your fingers gripped the pole firmly to keep your balance. Shifting your weight as you swung yourself, arched your back and flipped your hair, all were the main ingredience to get the big bucks coming, especially with those regular fat cats in the audience that continued to gawk at you for the 5th day in a row. It paid the bills at least, kept your head away from other problems and.. you just really loved to dance.

Your hair was loose, make up was light but still captured a sexy look, you ditched the ridiculous high heels and just put on the shorter ones that almost said ‘sexy business woman’ and you had your favorite black outfit that almost resembled slave Leia from Star Wars.. or at least, that’s what that one guy shouted from the audience that one time.

As soon as your last song ended, you struck your pose and closed your eyes, catching your breath with a smile as the feeling of paper brushed against your exposed skin as people threw cash and cat called. After a moment, you collected it all after a corny bow and headed down the stairs for the next girl to take over.

‘’hey Y/N, some fella in curtain 5 paid for a private dance’’ your boss whispered before you could get to the back rooms. His grip on your arm indicated his usual ‘I’m telling’ not ‘asking’.

Your eyes glanced over at the closed curtain room, as if expecting to see the gentleman right there and glanced at your boss with a sigh. ‘’fine, then I’m done for the night.’’

‘’sure.’’ He waved off and disappeared elsewhere.

After placing your bag in your locker, tiding yourself up a bit and even changing into something similar, just with more exposed leg space for your usual lap dances and headed over. Ignoring the stares and cat calling as you pass people, you paused at the curtain and took a deep breath- knowing you’ve done hundreds but it was just to prepare for.. anything, and went in.

“hello darling, you’ve never mentioned about your little side business..’’

You stopped dead in your tracks with wide eyes and queasy stomach. Your body ran a cold shiver up your spine as you remained a deer in the headlights at who sat before you, manspreading and comfortable, rocking his perfect black suit and your expression was still.

Snake..

‘’what the hell are you doing here?’’ you managed to squeeze out, your voice not indicating any anger but more.. uncertainty as you glanced at the curtain behind you to make sure it was closed.

‘’don’t worry darling, I’ll keep your little secret’’ Loki smirked and laced his fingers together before him with a cross of his legs. ‘’but might I say, you do look ravishing, especially displaying your skillset and.. assets on stage’’ he smirked, trying to get a rise out of you.

So he had been there that long.. your eyes narrowed in challenge as you remained calm. At least on the outside. Loki has been your long-time crush for a long time, having seen him amongst the tower many times to share some playful bickering and knowledgeable conversation here and there. He was someone to keep things interesting, never boring and got your mind to always think- unlike the dull and self-centered males that also occupied the tower. Most of them anyway. Being an Avenger was also your job, but you just couldn’t give up your first job here when Stark offered you the position, so you worked both, this one obviously in secret- until now.

‘’how did you know I was here?’’ you questioned, crossing your arms as worry showed on your brow nevertheless.. for some strange reason you trusted he would keep your secret- it didn’t mean he wouldn’t use it against you though.

‘’the tower tends to get rather boring, and most of your Midgardian locations don’t suit my interest. But you do, you’ve always have..’’ his voice got dangerously low as he leaned forward as he spoke. ‘’so, I followed you. you tended to disappear every evening and I got curious’’ he smirked.

You looked away a little as he spoke, glad the dim lighting hid your blush you felt come to your cheeks as you took a deep breath. Were you really going to do this? ‘’..you know I could always refuse you right?’’ you challenged out of curiosity.

‘’true,’’ he shrugged, relaxing back on the couch as he watched you, his eyes slipping down from yours a few times. ‘’but I could tell a part of you actually wants to do this,’’ he smirked, his eyes flicking up to yours again. ‘’and I don’t even have to blackmail you.’’

Your eyes narrowed as you stared at each other, almost daring to see who would do what first, but unfortunately it was all you. he was the customer and you hated that he was right. He wasn’t just a customer; you had wanted him for a long time; there was no use in denying it. if you had to do this, you were going to take your time and take charge. You will not give him a chance to belittle or doubt, this was your job and you were good at it.

As if on que, the music had started playing again and you wished you had taken a shot of tequila while you had put your stuff away, because the way he gazed at you now was making it hard to focus. He was sat back, limbs loose and relaxed as if he had been drinking a bit himself. His legs were a bit more together now, his slender hands resting at his thighs as his eyes drank you in now. His expression was difficult to read, but you could tell by his deep breathing and how now and again he would shift a little, that he was aroused, and that made you extremely powerful to offer your own smirk.

Taking a small step forward to be more in the center of his room, you kept your half-lidded eyes on him as your hands gently brushed over your thighs, slowly swaying your hips in the beat of the music while they slowly rose and flattened a little at your covered center.

His chin tilted up as his eyes seemed to pry, almost as if trying to look right through your clothes themselves as he swallowed and remained his composure. Your body slowly turned, showing off as your hands slowly rose around your hips and brushed against your perfect ass with your cut dress covering your intimate parts before you slowly faced him again while you gripped your chest.

Your eyes closed then, as if your own touch alone could make you orgasm and your fingers traveled into your hair while your lips parted. While your eyes were closed as you moved to the music, Loki’s hands briefly brushed against his pants as he began getting antsy, his jaw tight but he remained patient as he drank you in. gods you were beautiful, and you both knew it. the fact that he also knew your personality form your encounters at home as well he felt you were all the sexier.

His breath hitched when you placed your hands on his knees, feeling him having no rejection as you leaned forward and he took advantage of the view of your cleavage. Feeling his tense but loose limbs, you pushed his legs apart, standing between them as you remained holding eye contact and you smirked, seeing a small flash of defeat in his eyes that he hated and loved at the same time.

You had the upper hand now.

You turned yourself and slowly, just ever so slowly to tease him- more- began grinding your ass on him. depending on the package, it could involve touch, but you still weren’t expecting your breath to hitch when you felt his slender hands rest at your hips, his finger tips lightly digging into your flesh as he used strained control to bring you harder again him. speaking of..

By the gods he was huge, and you could feel yourself getting aroused every time he pulled and you pushed your cunt against his hard cock. You almost felt like you could salivate as your grinded more into him, hearing him growl as his grip strengthened ever so slightly, as if to stop himself from slapping your ass. You had him where you wanted him and pulled away, his fingers hesitating to let you go as you turned around to face him and placed your hands on his shoulders with do-me-eyes.

Loki’s lips parted weakly as he remained himself to breath, his eyes looking up into yours as if silently begging for you to take him. you wanted to.. if you wouldn’t get fired. Though it didn’t mean you couldn’t tease him a bit as you got onto his lap, your thighs resting against his while your cunt began grinding itself again on his bulge.

His hands went back to your hips as fast as magnets, wanting to grope and touch but he was unsure if he was allowed. You felt him squeeze your flesh as he leaned forward, making you grip his shoulders more as he inhaled your scent with fluttering eyes closed.

This gave you the perfect opportunity to lean forward and run your tongue teasingly up his neck, making your body lift as his cock got impossibly bigger to raise you. his eyes shock open with blown, hungry pupils and his own cologne filled your sensed as you gazed at him. he gave you a frustrated breath, his hips almost thrusting up as if he forgot you both were clothed.

Just to add fuel to the fire, your hands ran down his chest and took his wrists, pulling them off your thighs to rest against your chest as he eagerly began to massage and knead. His eyes never left yours as he almost seemed to study you, admiration on his features as if he never thought this moment would be possible- and he was still trying to believe it.

his thumbs ghosted under the edge of your bra at the bottom-if you want to call it a bra. It was thin as paper, you might as well of not have been wearing one as his movements slowed, asking silent permission as his teeth grasped his bottom lip lightly. Giving a small smile with a nod, his thumbs lifted the bra forward enough to slip his hands in and he almost shuddered in pleasure as he grasped your globes. Your head almost fell back as you moaned, slowing your griding at his bulge to deep, long strokes and you felt a warm tongue run up your neck.

You pulled away just enough to give him a playful smile as he shared one, knowing it was a pay back tease before a hand left your chest to move to the back of your head. It moved it forward, his fingers lightly grasping your hair as he tilted your head up and began sucking at your neck. Your hands went to his shoulders, nails digging into his suit as your own body shuddered in pleasure. He left open mouth kisses below your jawline and ran his tongue to your collar bone.

‘’F-Fuck..’’ you breathed before there was a knock outside the room.

‘’hey Y/N, I’m not paying over time.’’ your boss called and you realized the music had stopped.

Loki pulled away and removed his hands to rest at your hips, looking up at you curiously as you both caught your breaths.

‘’..the songs over..’’ you whisper, your eyes breaking contact as you use his shoulders to help yourself off of him and he keeps his hands on your hips for as long as possible as he lets go and stands up.

His height reminds you just how different you both are as you brush and straighten your clothes before you feel his hand at your chin and lift it to look at him. his expression was gentle but deadly serious and seriously still aroused.

‘’what time are you off?’’

Your blush darkens and you could feel your arousal as your thighs close tight. ‘’now-‘’

He leans down a bit, his knees bending to accommodate his height as he holds your eyes hostage and your noses almost touch.

‘’then this is most certainly not over.’’

Tag List: @foxherder @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fire-in-her-veinz

Note: Thank you for reading! it's kind of like a series~ you send songs, i write based off of them LOL More on my masterlist!

~Funny *on the subject*