#Neon Blue Crop Top

[keepthatpump]

Neon Blue Crop Top

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[littleevil0ne1]

🩵Neon Party🩵

I was aiming for that pleather/vinyl skirt neon 90s/y2k vibe

[liloli-art]

Dark Phyore

Once again this beautiful boy <3 the character belongs to Dark_Phyore(FA)

[jupiterpilgrim]

Drown With Me

Pt.2: Interpolation

Ningning x Minji x Male Reader

word count: 7K

part 1 | part 3

A/n: Pt.2 and pt.3 were supposed to be a single chapter, but it was split in two because of the block limit.

I wish I could be everything you wanted.

—

Oh, here we are again. But this time we're going back in time. We journeyed into the past because some things must be witnessed. And I say 'witnessed,' not 'understood.' For understanding confines the subtleties of human connections to a singular perspective, and that restricts the strange language of the heart.

We're at a bar now, where a lot of stories start. This is one of those:

The lights are dim and amber, casting warm shadows over the polished countertops and the scratched wooden floor. It’s a quiet Tuesday night, a lull between the weekend rush and midweek regulars. You’ve been working here long enough to know the rhythm of it—the predictable ebb and flow of people looking for drinks to drown whatever piece of life was gnawing at them. But then, just as you’re stacking a row of freshly washed glasses, the door swings open, and in walks her again.

She hesitates in the doorway, framed by the cool, blue glow of the streetlights outside. The first thing that grabs you, as it did last night, are her eyes—huge, almond-shaped, and impossibly feline. The kind of eyes that make you forget what you were supposed to be doing. They dart nervously around the room before finally landing on you, and for a moment, she freezes.

“You again,” you say, a smile tugging at your lips. You lean casually against the bar, arms crossed, trying not to seem too eager.

She’s wearing a cropped, black leather jacket that clings to her slender frame, sharp and a little out of place against the pale softness of her features. Beneath it, a white tank top hints at the curve of her collarbone and the toned lines of her stomach. Her high-waisted jeans, faded and torn at the knees, hug her slim legs like they were stitched onto her body. The scuffed Doc Martens on her feet somehow make her look even more striking—an accidental runway model lost in a world of beer stains and neon signs.

Her broad shoulders, almost too strong for her petite height, square up as if she's trying to summon some hidden reserve of confidence. But it’s her shyness, that hint of hesitation in every movement, that makes her feel like a puzzle you want to solve. She brushes a lock of jet-black hair behind her ear, her eyes darting away from yours as though the floor might swallow her whole if she stares for too long.

You tilt your head toward the bar, beckoning her closer. “Second night in a row, huh? You sure you’re not stalking me?”

Her lips part in a soft laugh, so quiet you almost miss it. “Hardly. My friend dragged me here yesterday. Tonight… I just needed some air.”

Her voice is as soft as her laugh, tinged with a slight huskiness that adds depth to her otherwise delicate demeanor. She approaches the bar slowly, her movements careful, like someone who’s always aware of the space she takes up.

“Well,” you say, pulling a coaster from under the counter and setting it down in front of her, “welcome back to the quietest bar in town. What can I get you?”

She perches on the stool, her knees pressed close together, hands tucked into the sleeves of her jacket. “Um…just a Coke, actually.”

“Coke?”

She nods, her eyes flicking up to meet yours, only to dart away again. “I don’t drink much.”

“Second night in a row at a bar and no drinks? You’re full of surprises.” You grab a glass and pour the soda, sliding it toward her. “Not that I’m complaining. Makes my job easier.”

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear again, a nervous habit, you realize, but it only adds to the quiet allure of her presence. “You work here often?”

“Most nights.” You lean against the bar again, giving her your best casual smile. “And you? What’s your excuse for gracing us with your presence twice in a row?”

“I’m…” She hesitates, then shrugs. “I guess I just liked the vibe. It’s not like other places.”

“It’s not like most places because most places actually get customers,” you joke, gesturing to the mostly empty room. “But hey, if the vibe brought you back, I’m not going to argue.”

She smiles, faint but genuine. “It’s nice. Quiet. Less… intimidating.”

“Intimidating?” You raise an eyebrow, genuinely curious.

She fidgets with the straw in her glass, swirling the Coke absently. “Bars aren’t really my thing. Too loud, too crowded. I usually avoid them.” She glances up at you, almost shyly. “This one feels… different.”

You don’t miss the slight blush that creeps up her neck as she speaks, and something about it tugs at you. “Different’s good,” you say softly. “I like different.”

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The faint hum of the jukebox in the corner fills the silence, playing some slow, melancholic track that perfectly matches the mood. You watch as she takes a small sip of her drink, her lashes casting long shadows over her cheeks.

“So,” you finally ask, breaking the quiet, “what’s your name? Or should I just keep calling you ‘Coke Girl’?”

Her lips twitch into a smile again, a little more confident this time. “Ning Yìzhuo. And you?”

“Coke Boy,” you deadpan, earning a small laugh from her. “Kidding. It’s—”

The door swings open again, cutting you off as a group of rowdy patrons stumbles in, disrupting the peaceful bubble you’d been sharing. Ningning’s shoulders tense immediately, her fingers tightening around her glass. You can tell she’s debating whether to stay or bolt.

You lean closer, your voice low. “Don’t worry. They’re harmless. Plus, I’ve got your back.”

She looks at you, her eyes searching your face for something—reassurance, maybe. And whatever she finds there seems to calm her, if only a little. She nods, taking another sip of her Coke.

You don’t know why, but you can already tell she’s going to stay with you longer than just tonight. Something about her feels significant, like a spark of lightning caught in a jar. Quiet, shy, and utterly captivating.

—

The weeks bleed into one another, and before you know it, Ning is a fixture at the bar. Not officially, of course. She doesn’t work here, doesn’t drink much, and always leaves by midnight like Cinderella with a self-imposed curfew. But she’s here. Three nights a week, like clockwork, perching on her usual stool and ordering her usual Coke, sometimes daring to live dangerously with a Sprite.

At first, you thought she came because it was quiet, because she needed a place to escape whatever stresses her life held. But it’s become increasingly clear that the bar’s charm isn’t the only thing pulling her back. It’s you. And you’re not mad about it.

Tonight, she’s dressed like she always is—effortlessly cool in her slightly oversized sweater, rolled-up jeans, and her beat-up Doc Martens. Her leather jacket is slung over the back of the stool, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders like ink. She’s got her sketchbook with her tonight, the same one she’s been carrying for weeks. You’ve seen glimpses of the drawings—sketches of people, abstract swirls, the occasional cat—but she guards it like it contains state secrets, never letting you get a proper look.

“What are you working on this time?” you ask, leaning on the counter with the practiced nonchalance of a bartender-slash-business-student who definitely isn’t secretly invested in whatever she’s drawing.

She glances up from her page, cat-like eyes sparkling under the warm glow of the bar’s lights. “Nothing special. Just doodling.”

“That’s what you said last time,” you point out, reaching for a clean glass to wipe down. “And then you showed me that sketch of that old guy in the corner, and it looked like something out of a museum. You can admit it, Ning—you’re talented.”

She ducks her head, a faint blush creeping up her neck. “It’s not that good.”

“Sure,” you deadpan, “and I’m not the best bartender in this city.”

She laughs—a soft, melodic sound that you’ve started to look forward to more than you’d like to admit. “You’re not even the best bartender in this bar.”

You feign offense, clutching your chest. “Ouch. And here I thought we were friends.”

“We are friends,” she says, smiling up at you. “Which is why I’m honest with you.”

“Brutally honest,” you correct, smirking. “Fine. Tell me this: do all fine arts students have this much sass, or are you just special?”

“Special,” she says, sticking her tongue out. “And for the record, it’s not fine arts. It’s animation and visual effects. Totally different.”

You nod sagely, as if you know the first thing about animation or visual effects. “Ah, of course. Animation. You’re going to make the next Toy Story, right?”

She rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning. “Something like that. What about you, Mr. Future CEO? Made any spreadsheets cry lately?”

“Every day,” you reply solemnly. “It’s part of the curriculum in business administration. They don’t let you graduate until you’ve traumatized at least three Excel files.”

Her laugh comes easily, her shoulders relaxing as she sips her Coke. She looks comfortable here now, like this place—and you—have become a safe haven for her.

It’s nice.

She’s nice.

“You know,” you say, setting the glass down and leaning closer, “when you first started coming here, I thought you were just using the bar as a library with worse lighting.”

She raises an eyebrow. “And now?”

“Now I think you’re here because you can’t resist my charm.”

She snorts into her drink, nearly choking. “Your charm? Please.”

“Hey, admit it. I make this place bearable for you.”

She tilts her head, pretending to consider. “You do make pretty good jokes.”

“High praise from the queen of sarcasm.”

Her smile softens slightly, the teasing edge in her voice fading. “I just like talking to you. You make things… lighter. Easier to deal with.”

You don’t know what to say to that. It’s rare for her to let her guard down like this, and you feel a sudden, inexplicable urge to keep it safe, to make sure she never regrets being vulnerable.

“Well,” you say, keeping your tone light, “as long as you keep coming back, I’ll keep telling terrible jokes. Deal?”

“Deal,” she says, holding out her hand like you’re signing a legally binding contract.

You shake her hand, her skin warm and soft against yours. There’s a moment—a brief, fleeting moment—where the noise of the bar fades away, and it’s just the two of you. Friends. Companions in this odd little corner of the world.

“By the way,” you add, breaking the moment, “if you ever need a businessperson in one of your animations, I know a guy.”

“Let me guess,” she says, smirking. “He’s incredibly charming and makes terrible jokes?”

“Exactly.”

She laughs again, and for the rest of the night, the bar feels a little brighter.

—

Ning sits cross-legged on her bed, a pencil tucked behind her ear and her sketchbook balanced on her knees. The room is bathed in soft, golden light from the desk lamp Minji insisted on buying, claiming it was better for productivity. Across the room, Minji herself sits at her desk, perfectly upright, fingers flying across the keyboard of her sleek laptop. She looks like a Vogue spread come to life, even in her oversized knit sweater and black leggings, her shiny, straight hair falling effortlessly over her shoulder.

Minji’s skin practically glows, the kind of flawless complexion that makes you wonder if she’s secretly Photoshopped in real life. Her glasses—a stylish, rectangular pair with gold rims—rest perfectly on the bridge of her pointy nose, framing dark, intelligent eyes that seem to miss nothing. Her lips, soft and plump, are painted a subtle pink, just enough to look effortlessly put together. She’s everything Ning isn’t: confident, composed, intimidatingly perfect.

Ning chews on her pencil, staring at her friend’s back. “Hey, Minji?”

“Hm?” Minji doesn’t look up from her screen. She’s probably working on some group project for her international business course. Even in her downtime, Minji is an efficiency machine.

“How do you, like…” Ning hesitates, fiddling with the corner of her sketchbook. “How do you get guys to notice you?”

That gets Minji’s attention. She swivels her chair around, fixing Ning with a look that’s equal parts amused and curious. “What kind of question is that?”

“You know what I mean,” Ning mumbles, heat rising to her cheeks. “You always have a line of guys chasing after you. It’s like… you just exist, and they’re obsessed with you.”

Minji raises an eyebrow, leaning back in her chair. “It’s not like I’m trying to get their attention.”

“That’s exactly my point!” Ning groans, flopping backward onto her bed. “You don’t even try, and they’re all over you. Meanwhile, I could walk into a room naked, and no one would notice.”

“First of all, don’t do that,” Minji says dryly, folding her arms. “Second, you’re exaggerating.”

“I’m really not,” Ning mutters, staring at the ceiling. “You’re like this goddess of elegance or whatever, and I’m just… me. How do you make people like you?”

Minji sighs, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose in that annoyingly perfect way she does. “It’s not about making people like you, Ning. You just have to be yourself.”

Ning sits up, frowning. “That’s so easy for you to say. You’re perfect. People like you without you even trying.”

“I’m not perfect,” Minji says, though the way she says it makes it clear she knows she’s pretty close.

Ning snorts. “Please. You’re gorgeous, you’re smart, you’re the only person I know who actually looks good in those glasses. And don’t get me started on your ‘I just woke up like this’ hair.”

Minji chuckles softly, a sound that somehow feels condescending and comforting at the same time. “Okay, fine. Maybe I have some good qualities. But seriously, Ning, if you want people to notice you, just… put yourself out there.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You’re not shy,” Ning mutters, pulling her knees to her chest.

Minji leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Shy people are fine, but if you never let anyone see who you really are, how are they supposed to notice you?”

“What if who I really am is… shy?” Ning asks, her voice small.

“Then be the best version of shy,” Minji says simply. “Confidence doesn’t mean being loud or outgoing. It just means being comfortable with who you are. People are drawn to that.”

Ning stares at her, skeptical. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s not,” Minji admits, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. “But if you don’t at least try, nothing’s going to change. And trust me, you don’t need to change who you are. You just need to stop hiding it.”

Ning chews on her lip, mulling that over. Minji makes it sound logical, like a formula to be solved. But Ning isn’t sure she can simply flip a switch and become “the best version” of herself.

“And if it doesn’t work?” she asks.

Minji shrugs, her lips curling into a faint smile. “Then it’s their loss.”

Ning laughs despite herself, the tension in her chest loosening just a bit. “You’re annoyingly good at this, you know that?”

Minji smirks, turning back to her laptop. “I know. Now stop overthinking and start being fabulous. You’ve got this, Ning.”

Ning watches her friend for a moment longer, a mixture of admiration and frustration swirling in her chest. If Minji says she can do it, maybe she can. But it still feels like an impossible climb.

“Hey, Minji?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

Minji doesn’t turn around, but her voice is warm. “Anytime.”

—

The door to the bar swings open, and in walks Ning with a determined look in her cat-like eyes. She’s wearing a fitted white crop top that shows just a hint of her toned stomach, a plaid mini skirt, and her signature scuffed Doc Martens. Her hair is loose, cascading over her shoulders in soft waves, and there’s a hint of pink gloss on her lips. Tonight, she’s decided, is the night.

No more shy, stammering Ning. Tonight, she’s confident, bold, maybe even flirty. She’s spent the past three days psyching herself up for this moment, replaying Minji’s advice in her head like a mantra. Put yourself out there. Be the best version of yourself. You’ve got this.

The bar is warm and dimly lit as always, the low hum of conversation filling the air. She spots you cleaning a table, laughing at something one of the regulars said, your easy charm on full display. You see Ning and wave to her with a smile. Her heart skips a beat, but she steels herself. You’ve got this, she repeats silently, striding toward the bar.

Or at least, she tries to.

What she doesn’t see, in her single-minded determination, is the bright yellow Wet Floor sign in the middle of the room. Her Doc Martens hit the slick patch of tiles, and suddenly, her confident stride turns into a cartoonish flail.

“Shit—!”

She feels herself going down, her arms pinwheeling as gravity takes over. But just before she hits the ground, a pair of strong hands catch her, one gripping her waist and the other cradling her back.

“You okay?” Your voice is close—too close—and when she blinks up at you, she realizes her face is just inches from yours.

Her heart is pounding, and not just from the near-death experience. Your eyes, warm and concerned, lock onto hers, and she can feel the heat rising in her cheeks. “I—yeah, I’m okay. Thanks.” Her voice comes out quieter than she’d like, all the confidence she’d mustered evaporating on the spot.

You grin, helping her stand upright but keeping a hand on her arm to steady her. “That was a close one. You almost went full slapstick there.”

“Yeah, well, I like to keep things entertaining,” she mumbles, avoiding your gaze. Her ankle twinges as she shifts her weight, and she winces.

“You sure you’re okay?” you ask, noticing the way she’s favoring one foot.

“It’s just my ankle,” she admits. “I think I twisted it a little.”

“Let’s get you off your feet,” you say, guiding her to a booth in the corner. “Come on, sit down.”

“I’m fine, really,” she protests, but you’re already pulling out a chair for her.

Once she’s seated, you crouch down in front of her, gently taking her foot in your hands. “Let me check it out. I can’t have my best customer suing the bar.”

She snorts softly, despite herself. “It’s my fault for not seeing the sign.”

“Well, next time, try looking where you’re going,” you tease, flashing her a grin that makes her heart skip again.

You slide off her boot carefully, your fingers brushing against her ankle. She tries not to shiver at the touch, but it’s impossible. Your hands are warm and firm, and when you start to massage the sore spot, she has to bite her lip to keep from making an embarrassing sound.

“You’re really good at this,” she says, her voice coming out a little breathier than she intended.

“Comes with practice,” you reply, focused on her foot. “My ex used to come home from work with sore feet all the time, so I’d give her massages. Got pretty good at it after a while.”

Ning’s ears perk up at the mention of your ex. “Oh?” she says, trying to sound casual. “What happened there?”

“She was… complicated,” you say, choosing your words carefully. “Kind of jealous. Possessive. A little manic, honestly.” You pause, then chuckle, shaking your head. “I guess I have a type. Crazy girls seem to find me.”

She swallows hard, caught off guard. “Is that why you’re single now?”

“Pretty much,” you admit, still massaging her ankle. “Taking a break from relationships for a while. Thought I’d give myself some peace and quiet, you know?”

Ning’s heart sinks, though she forces a smile. “Makes sense. Less drama.”

“Exactly,” you say, glancing up at her with a grin. “And besides, who needs a girlfriend when I’ve got customers like you to keep me company?”

She laughs softly, but it feels hollow in her chest. She watches as you go back to massaging her foot, completely unaware of the tiny heartbreak you’ve just caused. But she doesn’t say anything.

Because Minji’s words echo in her head: Be the best version of yourself. And tonight, the best version of herself is just a good friend. Nothing more, nothing less.

—

The dorm bathroom is small, humid, and filled with the faint scent of citrus-scented body wash. The door is open, so the fragrance invades the whole bedroom. The overhead light flickers faintly, casting a soft glow over the scene. Minji stands by the sink in nothing but a pale lavender bra and matching underwear, her skin luminous under the harsh fluorescent light. She’s methodically applying lotion to her arms, her long, straight hair pushed over one shoulder to avoid smearing it. Every movement she makes is precise, deliberate, like everything else about her.

Ning is by the closet, half-dressed, rifling through her limited wardrobe with a furrowed brow. She’s wearing an oversized graphic tee that hangs off one shoulder, exposing the curve of her collarbone and the straps of her bralette. Her plaid pajama shorts are crumpled, a stark contrast to Minji’s immaculate appearance.

“Can I ask you something?” Minji’s voice cuts through the quiet hum of the room, soft but with that unmistakable edge of curiosity.

Ning freezes, her fingers lingering on the hem of a black skirt she’s debating on. “Uh, sure. What’s up?”

Minji finishes with her arms and moves on to her legs, bending one knee and propping her foot up on the closed toilet lid. Her movements are unhurried, as if the question isn’t a big deal. “Where do you go every week? At night, I mean.”

She glances over her shoulder, her face warming under Minji’s unreadable gaze. “Nowhere. Just… out.”

“Nowhere?” Minji’s lips curve in a faint smile as she straightens up, tilting her head slightly. Her sharp, dark eyes scan Ning, taking in the flush on her cheeks, the way her fingers fidget with the fabric of her skirt. “That doesn’t sound like nowhere.”

“I mean it’s not anywhere in particular,” Ning mumbles, turning back to the closet. She grabs a random top to busy her hands, hoping Minji will let it go.

But Minji doesn’t let things go. “Ning,” she says, her voice calm but insistent. “You’ve been going out at least twice a week for the past month. You get dressed up, come back late, and you never say where you’ve been. It’s weird, because it's not something you used to do.”

Ning turns around, clutching the top against her chest like a shield. “It’s not weird.”

Minji quirks an eyebrow, her lips twitching as if she’s holding back a laugh. “You don’t think so? Because to me, it looks like you’re sneaking off to see someone.”

“I’m not!” Ning’s voice rises slightly in protest, her face turning a deeper shade of pink. She tosses the top onto the bed and grabs her sketchbook from the desk. “Look, I take this with me, okay? How could I be seeing a boy if I’m bringing this?”

Minji’s eyes drop to the sketchbook, then lift back to Ning’s face, skeptical but intrigued. “I don’t know. Art students have strange habits. Maybe you’re sketching him while you’re there.”

Ning groans, plopping onto the bed and flipping the sketchbook open to a random page. “It’s not like that. There’s a bar I go to. It’s… quiet, and it helps with creativity.”

“Creativity,” Minji repeats, crossing her arms as she leans against the sink. Her hair falls perfectly over one shoulder, her glasses catching the light just enough to make her look like a chic librarian. “That’s your story?”

“Yes!” Ning huffs, holding up the sketchbook like it’s evidence in a trial. “See? Just sketches. No boys, no dates, nothing like that.”

Minji steps closer, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studies Ning’s face. “So you’re telling me you sit at a bar all night, alone, with your sketchbook? That’s it?”

“Well…” Ning hesitates, her fingers gripping the edges of the book. “There’s this bartender I talk to sometimes. But he’s just a friend.”

“A friend.” Minji’s voice is flat, but there’s a glint of amusement in her eyes. “What’s his name?”

“Does it matter?” Ning mutters, ducking her head.

“Probably not,” Minji replies, her tone maddeningly casual. “But now everything is even more suspicious.”

Ning sighs, flipping the sketchbook closed. “Oh, whatever! He’s the bartender. We talk. That’s it.”

“And you’re just friends?”

“Yes.” Ning’s voice is firm, but her cheeks betray her with their telltale blush.

Minji watches her for a moment longer, then does something that catches Ning completely off guard. She smiles. Not her usual poised, mysterious smile, but something softer.

“Can I go too?”

Ning blinks, sure she’s misheard. “What?”

“To the bar,” Minji says, stepping closer until she’s standing right in front of Ning. “If it’s so great for creativity, I want to see it.”

“You want to go to the bar?” Ning asks, her voice incredulous. “The one I go to?”

“Why not?” Minji shrugs, grabbing her towel and tossing it into the laundry basket. “It’s not a date, right? If you’re just hanging out with a friend, I don’t see why I can’t come along.”

Ning stares at her, unsure whether to laugh or panic. “Are you serious?”

Minji leans down slightly, her glasses sliding down her nose as she meets Ning’s wide-eyed gaze. “Dead serious.”

“But…” Ning struggles to find a reason, any reason, why this is a terrible idea. “What about your coursework? You’re always busy.”

Minji straightens up, brushing her hair over her shoulder with practiced ease. “I can spare a night. Besides,” she adds, smirking, “I want to meet this ‘just a friend’ of yours.”

Minji’s calm confidence is both reassuring and terrifying. She knows Minji means well, but she also knows her friend. Minji doesn’t just show up. She observes.

Still, it’s hard to say no when Minji looks at her like that, her dark eyes steady and full of quiet determination.

“Okay,” Ning says finally. “You can come.”

Minji smiles, a triumphant glint in her eye. “Great. I’ll get ready.”

As Minji walks away, Ning flops back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. This was supposed to be simple. Just her, the bar, and a chance to take things slow with you.

Now?

She has no idea what’s about to happen.

—

The bar’s hum is steady but quiet tonight, soft music playing from the jukebox, mingling with the low murmur of scattered conversations. You’re behind the counter, wiping down glasses and vaguely thinking about the economics lecture you skipped today when the door swings open.

You look up instinctively, and there she is—Ning. Except she’s not alone.

Ning walks in first, a bundle of energy in her casual but cool outfit: a cropped black sweater that shows just a hint of her toned stomach, paired with loose cargo pants that sit snug on her hips, and her ever-present Doc Martens. She looks great—like she always does—but it’s the girl walking in behind her that makes your breath catch.

Minji.

She’s dressed simply—an elegant cream blouse tucked into high-waisted, dark-wash jeans that make her legs look impossibly long. Her black hair falls in a sleek curtain down her back, and she’s wearing the kind of gold-rimmed glasses that make other people look like try-hards but somehow make her look even more stunning. There’s something about her presence—poised but approachable, with a quiet confidence that fills the room—that makes it hard to look away.

“Hey!” Ning’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts as she practically bounces over to the counter. She gestures enthusiastically toward her companion. “This is my best friend, Minji. You’ll love her.”

You recover quickly, setting the glass down and offering a smile. “Hey, Minji. Nice to meet you.”

Minji steps forward, her smile polite but warm. “Nice to meet you too. Ning comes here every week, I got curious and realized I needed to see it myself.”

You nod, trying not to seem too obvious as you take her in. “Well, welcome. Hope it lives up to the hype.”

Ning slides onto her usual stool, pulling out her sketchbook like it’s just another normal night. “He’s being modest. It’s the coolest place ever. And the bartender’s alright, I guess.”

You smirk at her teasing but find yourself glancing back at Minji. “What can I get you two?”

“The usual for me,” Ning says, flipping through the pages of her sketchbook.

“And for you?” you ask Minji.

She tilts her head slightly, considering. “Something light. I don’t drink much—health reasons.”

“Got it.” You start preparing the drinks, glancing at her again. “If you don’t mind me asking, health reasons?”

Ning's Coke is ready in moments, she takes a sip absentmindedly as she looks at her sketchbook.

“I have a heart condition,” she says casually, like she’s used to explaining it. “Nothing too serious, but I can’t really handle strong drinks.”

“Fair enough,” you say, sliding the glass across the counter toward her. “This should be light enough.”

She takes a sip, her lips curving into a small smile. “Perfect. Thanks.”

Ning, who’s been scribbling something in her sketchbook, looks up suddenly. “Minji has been really nosy lately, she wouldn't leave me alone until I brought her here, she's never done this before.”

“Oh yeah?” you say, raising an eyebrow at Minji. “Was she really that mysterious about it?”

Minji laughs softly, setting her drink down. “You have no idea. She’d leave without saying much, come back late, and when I’d ask where she was, she’d just shrug and say ‘out.’” She glances at Ning, her tone amused. “It was suspicious.”

Ning groans dramatically. “It wasn’t suspicious! I just didn’t feel like explaining.”

“Well, I’m glad you brought her along tonight,” you say, smiling at Minji. “It’s nice to meet one of Ning’s friends.”

“Best friend,” Ning corrects, nudging Minji with her elbow. “We’ve known each other forever.”

Minji chuckles. “She’s exaggerating. It’s only been a few years. But yeah, we’ve been through a lot together.”

You lean against the counter, genuinely curious. “How’d you two meet?”

“Orientation,” Minji says, glancing at Ning.

“At first I thought she was snobbish for being so serious."

“And I thought you looked like a troublemaker,” Minji counters, her eyes sparkling with humor.

You can’t help but laugh at their banter. “So, Minji, what are you studying?”

“International business,” she says, adjusting her glasses slightly. “What about you?”

“Business administration,” you reply, and her face lights up with interest.

“Oh, really? That’s great. What year are you in?”

“Third,” you say. “It’s not as glamorous as international business, but it keeps me busy.”

“It’s not glamorous,” Minji says with a small smile. “But it’s practical. And honestly, that’s more important.”

You nod, impressed by her straightforwardness. “So what made you choose international business?”

She takes another sip of her drink, her expression thoughtful. “I guess I like the idea of understanding how things work on a global scale. It’s a challenge, but I enjoy it.”

Ning, who’s been quiet for a moment, suddenly speaks up. “She’s being humble. She’s the smartest person I know. She even helps me figure out my art projects sometimes.”

Minji shrugs, clearly a little embarrassed. “I just give her feedback. She’s the real talent.”

You glance at Ning, your curiosity piqued. “What kind of feedback?”

“She helps me refine ideas,” Ning says, twirling her pencil. “Like, if I’m stuck on a concept, she’ll point out things I didn’t think of. It’s annoying how good she is at it.”

Minji rolls her eyes, but there’s a hint of affection in her expression. “It’s not that hard. I just have an outside perspective.”

“Well, it sounds like you two make a good team,” you say, genuinely impressed by their dynamic.

Minji smiles, her gaze lingering on you for a second longer than you expect. “We do. But I think I understand why Ning likes coming here now. It’s… nice.”

“Yeah,” Ning chimes in, her voice a little softer. “It is.”

The three of you fall into an easy rhythm after that, talking and laughing like old friends. But every now and then, you catch yourself glancing at Minji, wondering what it is about her that feels so… magnetic.

—

The bar has never been livelier for you, not because of an influx of customers but because Ning and Minji have made it their unofficial hangout spot. At first, it was a bit surreal—Ning showing up with her best friend in tow, bright-eyed and eager to introduce her to her favorite bartender. But over the next few weeks, it becomes routine.

Monday Night

Ning and Minji arrive together, as they always do. Ning’s dressed in her usual casual style—cropped sweatshirt, ripped jeans, and her trusty Doc Martens—while Minji looks effortlessly polished in a tailored blazer over a white camisole and straight-leg pants.

“Usual?” you ask Ning, already reaching for the soda gun.

“Of course,” she says, hopping onto her usual stool.

“And for you?” you ask Minji.

“I’ll take the same thing as last time,” she says, her smile easy. “That drink was great.”

You get to work, sliding the Coke over to Ning and preparing Minji’s light cocktail. “So, how’s the week been treating you two?”

“Terrible,” Ning groans dramatically, opening her sketchbook. “I’m behind on like, three projects.”

Minji snorts, glancing at Ning over the rim of her glass. “That’s because you spent the entire weekend rewatching Spirited Away instead of working.”

“It was research!” Ning protests, flipping through her sketches. “It’s a masterpiece!”

You chuckle, leaning on the bar. “She’s got a point. Spirited Away is definitely worth rewatching.”

Minji raises an eyebrow. “I don’t disagree. But maybe she could balance her research with her deadlines.”

The two of you share a laugh, and Ning pouts.

“You’re both nerds,” she mutters, earning a grin from you.

“Guilty as charged,” you say, raising a random glass in a mock toast.

Wednesday Night

Tonight, Minji’s in a soft blue sweater that matches her dark-rimmed glasses, her hair swept back in a loose braid. Ning looks a little tired, probably from pulling an all-nighter.

“You look like death,” Minji observes bluntly as they sit down.

“Gee, thanks,” Ning says, dropping onto the stool and slumping over the counter.

“You okay?” you ask, sliding her a Coke without waiting for her order.

“Just tired,” Ning mumbles, sipping her drink.

Minji tilts her head at you. “So, did you finish that econ paper you mentioned last time?”

You perk up, surprised she remembered. “Yeah, just barely. Turns out writing about financial markets at two in the morning isn’t fun.”

“I could’ve told you that,” Minji says, her lips curving into a small smile. “But I bet you still nailed it.”

Ning watches the exchange, feeling a pang of something she can’t quite name. She clears her throat. “Hey, can we talk about something not boring?”

“Sure,” you say, turning to her. “What’s on your mind?”

“Aliens,” Ning declares, grinning. “Do you think they exist?”

Minji sighs. “Oh god, not this again.”

You laugh, genuinely amused. “Honestly? I hope so. Would make the universe a lot more interesting.”

Ning beams, satisfied, while Minji shakes her head. “This is why she likes coming here,” Minji says dryly. “You encourage her nonsense.”

“Hey,” you protest, “it’s not nonsense. It’s curiosity.”

Minji chuckles, and Ning feels a little less out of place.

Friday Night

The bar is slightly busier, but the two of them still manage to snag their usual seats. Minji looks radiant in a sleek black blouse and gold hoop earrings, her makeup subtle but flawless. Ning, in her oversized hoodie and her Doc Martens looks comfortable but feels distinctly underdressed next to her friend.

“You look nice tonight,” you say to Minji as you hand her drink over.

“Thanks,” she replies, her voice calm and self-assured. “Ning practically dragged me out of the dorm, so I figured I’d make an effort.”

“You’re welcome,” Ning says with mock pride.

“So,” Minji says, turning to you, “tell me more about your business classes. Do you focus on entrepreneurship or management?”

“A little of both,” you reply, leaning on the counter. “Right now, we’re working on case studies about startups.”

“Oh, I love those,” Minji says, her eyes lighting up. “Which case studies are you doing?”

As you dive into the topic, Ning finds herself zoning out. The conversation is engaging—Minji is clearly knowledgeable, and you seem genuinely interested in what she has to say—but it’s not her world. She fiddles with her straw, feeling invisible as the two of you talk animatedly about market trends and business strategies.

Eventually, she clears her throat. “Hey, do you think they’d let me draw on the walls here?”

Both of you turn to her, surprised.

“I mean, this place could use some art,” she says, grinning.

“Go for it,” you say, laughing. “Just don’t tell my boss I approved it.”

Minji chuckles softly, shaking her head. “You’re hopeless.”

“Hopelessly creative,” Ning corrects, feeling a little more grounded again.

Sunday Night

The bar is nearly empty, the quiet hum of the jukebox filling the space. Ning is doodling absently in her sketchbook, while Minji sips her drink and chats with you.

“So, what do you do for fun?” Minji asks, her tone light but genuinely curious.

“Work, mostly,” you admit. “But when I have time, I like hiking. Clears my head.”

“I didn’t peg you as the outdoorsy type,” she says, a hint of teasing in her voice.

You shrug. “Gotta balance all the business talk with something peaceful.”

Ning glances up from her sketchbook, watching the two of you. There’s something about the way Minji leans slightly forward when she talks to you, the way her smile lingers a little longer.

“Do you hike?” you ask Minji.

“Sometimes,” she says. “But only when Ning drags me along.”

“Hey, I make hiking fun,” Ning protests, jumping back into the conversation.

“You complain the whole time,” Minji points out, smirking.

“Because you always pick the hardest trails!”

You laugh, the sound warm and genuine. “I’d pay to see that.”

“Next time, you’re coming with us,” Minji says.

Ning blinks, caught off guard by the suggestion. She glances between you and Minji, unsure how to feel about the way this strange triangle is starting to form.

As the night winds down, the three of you settle into a comfortable rhythm, but Ning can’t shake the feeling that something is shifting—slowly, subtly, but undeniably.

—

The three of you have fallen into a strange, unspoken routine—meeting up not just at the bar but beyond it, like some evolving trio of mismatched energy. It feels natural, at least on the surface, even if Ning occasionally finds herself analyzing every interaction, dissecting every glance and laugh.

Tonight, you’re at the movies, sitting in a darkened theater. Ning insisted on watching the latest animated film, claiming it was "research" for her art, though the truth is she just really loves animated movies. You and Minji went along with it, no complaints. Ning sits between you and Minji, a giant bucket of popcorn balanced precariously on her lap.

Halfway through the movie, she notices how Minji leans slightly toward you, sharing whispered comments about the plot. Ning can’t quite hear what you’re saying, but the low rumble of your laugh makes her feel strangely uncomfortable.

“Pass the popcorn,” you murmur, your hand brushing Ning’s as you reach for the bucket.

She stiffens slightly, then relaxes. “Here. Don’t eat all the good pieces.”

“You’re weirdly protective of popcorn,” you tease, taking a handful.

“Popcorn hierarchy is a real thing,” she replies, smirking. But her voice sounds hollow to her own ears.

Minji chuckles, leaning closer. “She’s serious about it. She once bit my hand when I took the last caramel piece.”

“I did not bite you!” Ning protests, her cheeks flushing.

Minji glances at you, her smile lingering. “She absolutely did.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I believe it.”

The sound of your laugh sends a pang through Ning’s chest. She knows it’s stupid, knows she’s overthinking. But the way you and Minji interact—effortless, like equals—feels different.

Later That Week

The three of you are at a college basketball game, seated in the bleachers. It was your idea this time, a way to do something “normal and fun” after a week of classes. Ning, determined to feel confident, showed up in a cropped tank top and tight jeans, her makeup more pronounced than usual.

But as the game goes on, she notices the subtle ways you treat her. When she trips on the bleachers, you catch her arm, laughing softly. “Careful, kid. Don’t want you breaking something.”

“Kid?” she echoes, raising an eyebrow. “I’m literally an adult.”

“Barely,” you tease, ruffling her hair in a way that makes her want to scream.

Meanwhile, when Minji leans over to ask you something, your tone shifts. It’s subtle, but Ning catches it. You’re attentive, leaning slightly closer, your voice quieter. When Minji laughs at something you say, it’s like the whole world fades out for a second, leaving just the two of you.

Ning fiddles with her phone, pretending not to notice.

At one point, Minji turns to her. “Hey, are you okay? You’ve been really quiet.”

“I’m fine,” Ning says quickly, forcing a smile. “Just… not a huge basketball fan.”

Minji studies her for a moment but doesn’t press. She turns back to you, asking something about the game. Ning doesn’t bother listening.

The Bar, One Week Later

It’s a typical slow night, the kind you’ve come to expect when it’s not the weekend. You’re behind the counter, wiping down glasses and occasionally glancing at the door out of habit. When it swings open, you look up, expecting to see Ning and Minji together as usual.

But it’s just Minji.

She steps inside, her presence as poised as ever. She’s wearing a fitted black turtleneck and a sleek gray coat, her hair tucked neatly behind her ears. There’s a calm confidence in the way she walks, like she owns the space without even trying.

“Hey,” you say, smiling as she approaches the bar. “Where’s Ning?”

“She’s sick,” Minji replies, sliding onto one of the stools. “It’s just me tonight.”

There's a hint of excitement in her voice, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. The absence of Ning—her usual energy, her playful remarks—feels strange. But Minji’s presence is undeniable, grounding.

“Just you,” you repeat, setting a glass on the counter. “Alright. What can I get you?”

Minji smiles, a small, knowing curve of her lips. “Surprise me.”

part 3

[cherrycranes]

Real Cowgirls Ride (Emmett x Fem!Reader) [+18]

Pairing: Emmett (A Quiet Place 2) x Fem!Reader Summary: When you go to a bar in upstate New York with your girlfriends for a bachelorette party, you encounter a hot rugged man who´ll teach you how to ride like a real cowgirl. Word count: 4,248 Contents: (Minors DNI). No apocalypse AU. Age gap (Reader is 24, Emmett is 39), Oral sex (fem receiving), a little bit of ass licking (fem receiving), fingering, P in v, protected sex! Author's notes: Once more, a collab with @fuckiingloser cause that's my wifey. Mandatory "english is not my first language" disclaimer. Enjoy the ass licker.

It was the first time you ever stepped a foot in this rural upstate New York town. Certainly an interesting choice for a bachelorette party, but your friend: the bride, and her future husband had grown up here. It was nice, though. A very appreciated change of scenery from your busy downtown New York City life. It had been a 3 hour drive to get here, and you planned to just have a good time.

The party had a cowgirl theme and you had gone all out: a borrowed pair of red cowgirl boots that you had never imagined wearing in your life, a pair of dangerously tiny Daisy Duke jean shorts and a white cropped t-shirt that said “Budweiser” across the front. All topped with a matching cowboy hat sitting on top of your head. Your girlfriends showered you with compliments, you played the part so well.

It was around 11:30 pm now, and after several stops of the bar crawl, you all walked into a smoky, dark dive bar. The neon signs gave the entire room a dull glow. It was moderately full, mostly with old blue collar men tired from a long day's work. Some of them gave your group a few stares that only your tipsy state managed to ignore. You had come here for fun, and that’s what you would have. 

You got a big table, ordered some drinks and shots and cheered for the bride, wishing her all the best with the love of her life. And, in secret, you hopelessly wished that you would find yours too… You were painfully single at 24 and your only one previous boyfriend had cheated on you after a year of dating. You were still young but loneliness stung.

To distract yourself, you ordered a few more shots and just went along with the vibe of the bar and your friends’ laughter. Some moments later, you wandered over to the old school jukebox that sat alone on a dark corner to flip through the endless pages of song options. Some you knew, some you didn’t, and one you picked before a rugged voice behind you interrupted you:

“Excuse me, miss...” You turned to look. “I just have to have a look at these fancy red cowgirl boots up close...” The man in front of you said with a charming little smirk and with his baby blue eyes looking down at your feet, then at your legs, your body and, eventually, meeting your eyes. 

You looked him over too, with his plain white t-shirt, blue wrangler jeans, dusty work boots, scruffy beard with a few silver strands in it and a ball cap with some brown curls peeking out underneath it. Quite handsome. His little excuse to come over and talk to you was pathetic but cute, it had made you smirk a little. And when you looked into his beautiful eyes and saw that pretty smile again, you decided to give him a shot.

“Honestly… My buddies over there were givin’ me a hard time and said that I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t say something to the pretty girl in the red cowboy boots...” He gestured over to his friends in the booth in the other corner who gave you a wave and smile. You turned back to look at him, and gave yourself the luxury of eyeing him up and down again. He was definitely older than you, but not exactly old enough to be your father. He must have been in his early 40’s at most. He was sort of rugged, most likely a blue collar man. Some tattoos poked out from under the sleeve of his t-shirt. He was not the type of guy you were used to encountering in New York City. “I'm Emmett..” He smirked, and you chuckled a bit at his words.

“Hate to break the news but I borrowed these from a friend… I’m not a real country girl.” You admitted with a smile. Emmett laughed softly and leaned against the almost forgotten jukebox.

 “Well… They look good on you either way… That’s for sure…” He looked over your body once more, shameless infatuation irradiating from him. His boldness made you smile again, and admittedly, it also turned you on. Like clockwork, the first notes of the song you picked started to play and Emmett gave you an approving smile.

“Good choice… You’ve got good taste obviously… Would you like to dance, beautiful?” He asked, his voice like velvet in your ears. You felt a sweet heat rush to your cheeks and you nodded.

“I'd like that.” You smiled and he took your hand with a gentleness that was to die for, pulling you closer and wrapping his strong arms around your waist. In return, you wrapped your arms around his neck and followed him along. Butterflies flew in your stomach like they hadn’t in so long when his arms tightened around you.

You chatted a little, dancing slowly in the middle of the dive bar with his rough hands rubbing the exposed skin of your back. In the background of the slow song, you could make out the voices and giggles of your friends who must have been staring in amusement and support. 

In between the small conversations and the dance, you found out Emmett owned a farm nearby. Mostly horses and some crops. You also found out he was 39 years old. Never married, currently single. Then it came time for questions about your life, your work, your age, where were you from…

“Ahh, so you’re a city girl, makes sense… Never seen someone as hot as you around here before...” Emmett whispered, still swaying with you and still holding you tight. You blushed, something not everybody did to you, but there was something about him. His looks, his charm, his rough hands. You couldn't help yourself.

Guided by that feeling, you kept talking. Now telling him about your failed relationship, your cheater ex-boyfriend and your 8 month-long singlehood. Emmett’s brow furrowed upon hearing that.

“Fuckin’ asshole… Who would ever wanna lose you? You need a real man… Not a little immature boy..” He whispered, shaking his head gently and tightening his tattooed arm around you ever so slightly, just for the butterflies in your stomach to go even wilder. 

Your song ended and the jukebox went silent. Emmett immediately asked to buy you a drink, and how would you even say no? Next thing you knew, you were sitting on a barstool with him standing in front of you, a hand on your thigh making you swoon. He leaned over to order, the scent of his almost worn-off cologne sending more heat towards the right places.

“Two miller lites please, thanks.. ” The bartender cracked open two beers and pushed them towards Emmett. He handed you one along with a sly smile, his other hand still on your thigh.

“Well… Cheers to a good night that I'm hoping gets even better.” Emmett held his drink up to yours and clicked them together with a nice melodic sound. 

“Cheers.” You chuckled, arousal pooling in your lower abdomen and burning steady for the entire time you and Emmett talked and flirted in between sips. Some guilt crept up on you at having practically abandoned your girlfriends, but every quick glance towards them made you find them winking and putting their thumbs up. So you focused back on Emmett, laughed at his jokes, touched his arm, gave him your best smile…

“Can’t believe a pretty girl like you is interested in an old man like me.” He rubbed his hand softly on your exposed thigh, and you couldn't help but let out a sincere chuckle.

“You're hotter than any guy I've met in the city by a million honestly… A real man who works with his hands and knows what he wants and isn’t shy about it…” Every word of yours was soaked in a sensual tone and your eyes never looked away from him now. He had the most beautiful pale blue eyes you had ever seen, his pupils were long dilated from looking at you, and they seemed to get even more when he heard you talking like that.

“Well, you sure know how to flatter a guy… I’ve gotta say you’re one of the sexiest things I've ever seen.” Emmett leaned in to whisper into your ear, his lips giving you a featherlight touch. “My hands aren’t the only thing I’m good with…” His warm breath sent a satisfying shiver down your spine. “And I do know what I want… I wanna see what’s underneath this little crop top and these tiny jean shorts…” 

Your breath hitched ever so slightly, the hairs at the back of your neck stood up. His rough hand gripped the soft flesh of your thigh firmly, the sensation, along with his words, going straight to your core and now dampened panties. 

It was 12:45 am now, the clock upon the wall ticked in front of Emmett’s eyes with an eager question. 

“It's getting pretty late… Whaddya say you come home with me tonight… And I can teach you how to ride like a real cowgirl?” He whispered through a seductive smirk, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear and effectively making your clit pulse. You bit your lip, took in the pale blue of his eyes and leaned a bit closer.

“You wanna be my teacher?” You asked him, holding his gaze. Emmett nodded before taking a swig of his beer, finishing it and putting it on the bar.

“I'm sure a girl like you could teach an old dog like me a few tricks too…” 

Your smirk turned into a grin before his eyes and your wet pussy fluttered again. God, he was so smooth and beyond sexy. The kind of man you needed.

“Take me home cowboy.” You whispered, ripples of arousal traveling around your body as you watched Emmett pull out his wallet and slap a 20 dollar bill on the counter to cover for your drinks and tip, before taking your hand like a gentleman.

Your girls cheered when they saw you walking out with him, and you so graciously gave them a playful middle finger that made them laugh out loud.

Emmett held the door open for you and all the exposed parts of your body felt the cool summer breeze of the night air. Not for long though, his truck was just a few steps away, and as the gentleman he was, he opened the passenger seat door for you and helped you in. The inside was rather cozy, an air freshener hung from the rear-view mirror along with a, quite fitting, tiny cowboy hat charm. You flicked it with your finger as Emmett got in the driver’s seat. 

“Before we leave...” He started, leaning over the center console. Before you could ask him anything, his lips met yours in a hot, sensual kiss. Inevitably, your hand reached up to touch his beard, and you delighted with the taste of beer and faint mint gum in his mouth.

 “Sorry, I just had to… Couldn’t wait another minute.” He whispered against the softness of your lips, forming a smile. He sat back in his seat and started the truck up, making it roar to life. His left hand held the wheel and his right hand found his new favorite spot: your thigh. Soft rock born from his radio barely made noise as he drove you down the mostly empty country roads to his home nearby. You raised both eyebrows when an old farmhouse and several barns came into view.

“Wow… All this is yours?” You asked softly, admiring the vast space bathed in starlight.

“It is indeed, pretty girl.” Emmett smiled, pulling up next to the house and getting out of his truck, this time helping you out of it, upholding the true gentleman behavior. 

His arm wrapped around you once again, his body warmth fighting for you against the chill summer night’s breeze. You smiled when the front door opened for you and you were the first to step foot inside the cute little farmhouse. It was rather lovely, perhaps too minimally decorated but it was to be expected, he was a 40 year old man living alone. You seemed to be the most feminine thing in this house. 

“I love it… So cozy.” You leaned against the kitchen counter, attracting Emmett to you. His hands found your hips and he looked down at you with that flirtiness that made your pussy wetter. 

“You haven’t even seen the bedroom yet.” He whispered, closer and closer to you until another sensual kiss captured your lips. Your mouth gave his skillful tongue entrance and with a delicious groan he picked you up easily. Your legs wrapped around his hips and his hands supported you by holding your ass. He swallowed a moan from you and walked you both across the house, towards the stairs and into his bedroom. There, he laid you down on his big bed, his lips reluctantly leaving yours for air.

You propped yourself up to your elbows, granting him a visual feast for his eyes to devour. Your exposed midriff, your little shorts and those cute little red boots. Since your cowboy hat had been lost somewhere on the way to his bed, your hair was slightly messy, and your lips glistened from his saliva. He didn’t know where to begin with you. 

“Fuck, you’re sexy…” He admired you, reaching down to pull one of your boots off, then the other one. Both joined his wooden floor. “I need to see this perfect body naked for me…”

You giggled, his hands now occupied themselves with your jean shorts. In a couple of seconds they also met the floor.

“Would ya look at that…” Emmett let out a flirty whistle upon seeing what you hid underneath the denim: a little red thong that made his cock twitch in his jeans, another reminder of how painfully hard he was. His calloused thumb didn’t resist and ran over your clothed pussy, slowly making its way between your folds and marveling at the feeling of the damp fabric. He growled in approval. 

“Someone’s wet…” He looked into your eyes and you felt a rush of blood divide itself to reach both your cheeks and your needy cunt. You bit your lip, your body ablaze.

“Flip over for me, baby… Face down ass up.” He ordered after playing with you over your panties a little bit. You, incredibly turned on and obedient to any sexy command he could throw your way with that deep voice of his, didn’t even think about it twice.

“Yes, Sir.” You played along, flipping over for him with your ass in the air and your cheek against the duvet cover. 

“Fuuuck…” He groaned at the sight. You knew very damn well your little thong was covering absolutely nothing from behind. “I wanna make sure this little pussy is prepped for my lesson…” he said, peeling the thong off you slowly. 

Anticipation pooled at your cunt, the flimsy red fabric left your body with his help. Once you were free, Emmett palmed both your asscheeks and spread them slowly. He moaned at the sight of your glistening pussy and tight asshole, all fully waxed.

“Jesus Fuckin’ Christ…” He breathed out, feeling his heart skip a beat. “I could come just looking at you…” He whispered just inches away from your needy cunt.

You moaned softly at his words, feeling completely exposed yet so turned on. Nothing else could matter to you anymore.

“Please...” You whimpered so needily, he couldn’t resist leaning in and letting his tongue slide between your slippery folds. A guttural groan of his made your pussy reverberate, the taste of you on his tongue so addictive, so divine.

“Oh my god…” Now, you moaned. Emmett’s hot tongue licked a fat stripe from your clit all the way to your ass, flicking against it. The sensation was so good you could barely comprehend it.

“You taste like honey…” He purred to our flesh before spitting on your pussy, his saliva slowly dribbling down between your lips and making him groan in approval. Two of his fingers gathered some of that spit on them before circling your aching hole, slowly pushing inside of you from behind. 

You moaned over and over, his thick fingers pumped in and out of you in a slow but firm motion. He watched hungrily as your tight cunt took them in so easily and so greedily.

 “Fuck… Feels so good…” You spoke in between moans that only got louder when Emmett curled his fingers inside you, hitting that special spot. “Holy fuck…” 

The louder you moaned, the faster his thick fingers moved and curled. Your eager pussy had his index and middle fingers completely wet and glistening.

“That feels good, pretty girl?” He asked with a smirk. “Gotta make sure this little pussy is ready to ride my big cock…” he growled hungrily. 

“I-I’m ready… Please…” His pumping fingers had you bucking your hips in desperation and stuttering, almost out of your mind. Emmett loved every single detail about it, you looked just so beautiful when you were this horny and needy. Mercifully, he pulled his fingers out of your begging cunt and slowly brought them to his mouth, groaning at the taste of you.

“Flip over, baby.” He commanded, the sound of the zipper of his jeans making your ears perk up. You did as he said, catching the glimpse of his pants hitting the floor and his shirt being pulled over his head. He tossed it aside, the view of his toned, hairy chest and arms, along with those sexy tattoos of his made your pussy feel even more needy. Your eyes feasted on him, from his chest to his hard on in his briefs.

“I think you’re ready for your lesson…” Emmett crawled onto the bed and laid on his back, dark curls resting on his pillows. Right away, you sat on your knees, watching the way his arm flexed as he reached over to the side table and opened the drawer. Touch guided his way to a gold wrapper.

“A little help?” He smirked, looking down at his hard cock still tucked in his underwear. You smiled and nodded, your fingers hooking on the gray waistband and gently peeling the fabric down his legs. His big hard cock immediately sprung free for your eyes to devour. A throaty groan resonated from him. It was much bigger than what you had pictured, it was impossible to not stare at it in all its veiny, throbbing glory. 

Emmett ripped open the condom wrapper with his teeth, rolling the latex down his thick cock and looking up at you with a sexy smile.

“You ready to be my cowgirl?” 

Immediately, you snapped out of your trance and nodded.

“Yes, sir…” Your voice came out sweet and so lovely, his hand motioned towards him.

“C’mere, baby…” Emmett cooed and you moved to stand above him. You lowered down slowly on him until your sensitive folds felt the covered tip of his cock, making him groan a little at the friction.

“Mmm, slow baby…” He coached you in a soft voice, putting his hands on your hips and guiding you. “Sink down slowly…” And slowly you did it. His cock slid inside your tight hot ready entrance easily, with all the time in the world. You sank down further, each of your knees on either side of his thighs almost trembling at the stretch. Loud moans escaped you both in unison as you adjusted to him and he adjusted to you. You felt so full, for a second you even doubted if it all could fit, but, as if his cock was designed for your tight little cunt, he fully slid right in with ease. 

“Oh, fuck…” You breathed out, looking into his beautiful eyes through your fluttering eyelashes. “So deep…” Words came in soft whine. Soft, clingy hands supported you by touching his broad, hairy chest. Emmett smirked, a perverted gleam in his eye from watching you adjusting to his thick cock.

“You feel me in here, baby?” He whispered, voice thick and heavy with lust. One of his calloused hands moved from your hip to your lower belly, pressing into your soft flesh and creating an erotic pressure that you could only moan and nod to. You felt him so deeply, all over and inside you.

“You feel so fucking good around me…  So tight and warm. I think this pussy was made to ride my cock.” His voice was low and rough, both hands moved to your hips again, ready to begin.. 

“Now, just go with the flow and get into a good rhythm baby… I’ll help…” He coached you with a sly grin that made your cunt clench around him. He was just so sexy, and he knew and reveled in it. “Just relax and enjoy the ride…” 

After exhaling a needy breath, you started to swivel your hips a bit, riding him slowly. Emmett groaned, his eyes closed in utter pleasure. His hands stayed glued to your hips and guided the slow rhythm your rolling hips set. You both moaned. His hips moved a little under you, encouraging you more and more.

“Look at you cowgirl...” His voice was already a little breathy, his groan took over the last letters of the word “girl”. His cock throbbed inside you at the sight of your pretty tits moving under the Budweiser logo. He helped you out with that, pulling your cropped shirt off your body and hungrily taking in the view of your bare chest as you bounced on his dick.

You moaned more when the tip of his cock hit that deep spot, and the more you spent riding him and earning yourself the title of cowgirl, the more he entertained an idea. 

After a minute or two, Emmett pulled you down, making you chest to chest with him and wrapping his toned arms around you. A searing, sloppy kiss entered your mouth while his hips pistoned from beneath. Your sweet tongue melted into his before he whispered against your lips.

“Now it’s time for you to relax and I'll do all the work baby…” His hoarse voice tickled your skin and he planted his feet on the mattress, gaining the support he needed to immediately pick up the pace and pound into you relentlessly from underneath. No thoughts registered properly in your brain from that point forward, it was all just a hot, wet pool of pleasure. A series of curses left your lips with no particular order and with no respect for anything.  

“Oh-fuck… Oh my fucking god... Fuck!” You cried out into the skin of his neck, the sound of your voice mixing with his low groans and the slapping of skin.

“You fuckin like that?” He panted into your ear, his hips never stopping as you moaned non stop.

“Yes... Yes... Fuck, yes!” You cried out as his hands moved to spank your ass, hard. You almost screamed, the sting nearly sending you over the edge. It was so overwhelming, you didn’t fully realize just how close you were until that moment.

“Jesus… I think I'm gonna come…” You whimpered and his hand came down again hard on your ass, definitely leaving a red mark. Emmett held you so tight against his chest, holding you in place for his thick cock to slam into over and over.

“Come for me..” He looked right into your eyes with pure want in the blue of his irises. And as if on command… You did. 

Eyes squeezed shut so tight you saw lights, a whiny moan was born from the depths of your chest and your sweet, slick cunt clenched around him tight. Your legs couldn't stop shaking and your orgasm took over every single sense. All your being was just a giant orgasm that still could feel him pumping hard into you.

“Holy fuck..” He breathed out in awe watching and feeling you succumb to all the pleasure. 

“Good girl..” He whispered, praising you right before capturing your lips in a hot kiss. “I'm coming too..” Even in your state, you could tell. His thrust had gotten sloppier and his breathing was much heavier. He wasn't able to hold back much longer. Inside the transparent latex, you felt him pulse and fill the material with his warm cum. He groaned, his arms held you tight and kept you there until the last drop was out.

Panting like you had just ran a marathon and with hearts beating fast, you laid there chest to chest. You put your forehead against his in a sweet moment, in response, his hand rubbed your back slowly.

 “Jesus… that was...” He whispered, still a little out of breath looking right into your eyes. You couldn't help but blush and put on a shy smile. 

“...the best sex i’ve ever had…” You softly finished his sentence. 

He pulled out slowly and sat up with you still pressed against his chest. His eyes studied your face for a minute before speaking.

“I think you may be a real cowgirl after all…” There was that sly smirk once more, one that made you return the sentiment and lean in with him for one last soft kiss.

Pinterest board with our visual inspo for this fic, made by @fuckiingloser

[ofbatsandballads]

pretty little birds

jason todd x fem!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: suggestive content, reader works at the Iceberg Lounge as a server/dancer/informant for Oz, slight objectification from Oz, reader described as having long hair but no other physical descriptions, slight implication of potential SA (nothing happens, just concern over it)

a/n: been thinking of Jason with a girl who works at the Iceberg Lounge ever since I watched The Batman and saw Selina’s gorgeous self working there. something about her and Bruce’s dynamic was very alluring and I realized how much better it would work with Jason so this was born. might make this a series, might not; who knows? not me! also if you want a nice visual aid for the club, I fully based it off the Gotham Knights version of the lounge.

divider credit: strangergraphics

Jason wasn’t a fan of the Iceberg Lounge. He’d been there plenty of times for missions, for reconnaissance, to beat the shit out of Oswald—it didn’t mean he liked it there. The club was ostentatious, loud and vulgar like everything that went on within it. He always scoffed when he saw it during patrol. An actual iceberg exterior; how corny could Cobblepot get?

He did have to admit that it was nicer inside. The marble floors, balconies, and columns lended an elegance to the place that it didn’t deserve. The neon blues and pinks of the lighting served to disorient, to intoxicate alongside the drinks that were served across the bar and the drugs that were passed behind it. The massive penguin ice sculpture in the center was tacky though. Jason could think of a million better design choices than that.

All this to say that he wasn’t thrilled to be sent to the club per Bruce’s orders of seeing if Oz was still as legit as he claimed. He wasn’t. They all knew it but B needed proof. Jason’s sure by proof Bruce meant that he wanted him to go undercover, but one of the advantages of being Red Hood is that he can go where the other Bats can’t. That distinction is how he finds himself stalking the club from his vantage point in the shadows.

It’s busy tonight. The main floor is crowded with people. Bodies push and pull to the rhythm of the music that blares from the speakers. As tightly crammed as the floor is, the servers still manage to weave through with a practiced grace. They’re all in various states of undress; short skirts, crop tops, some in straight up underwear. Jason recognizes the servers for what Cobblepot intends them to be: a distraction. They’re all young and beautiful—pretty girls and boys that are meant to draw your eye so you don’t see the money and the drugs that pass between their hands.

Jason zeroes in on the two working the floor for any indication of something illegal. Oswald’s been smarter since his last stint in Blackgate. He lets the filth of the city do their deals in his club while he himself is never caught up in it. The argument of “well I didn’t do it” usually wouldn’t hold up legally, but this is Gotham. His eyes track the man first. He’s weaving in and out, laughing with what must be the regulars. He’s charming them, plying them with more and more alcohol to stay longer, to spend more money. He’s not doing anything more than that, though, to Jason’s utmost disappointment. He turns his attention to the girl instead.

The difference between the two of you is so obvious it’s almost amusing. While the guy weaved fluidly through the throng of people like something unseen, the crowd itself seems to part for you. Recognition, some degree of respect, power—that’s what you’ve got over the drunken group of people. He immediately knows that his best bet will be with you. Everything about you echoes the pull you must have in the club. The way you walk, how you smile at the regulars, the drifting of your hands across shoulders and backs and jawlines. It’s even clear in the way you’re dressed. You look like something out of a cabaret show. Pink silk lingerie lined with black lace flowers, black fringe beads that form the idea of a skirt rather than an actual one, and those same beads hanging in alluring arcs across your arms, neck, and chest. You’re dressed up like Penguin’s favorite dream.

You’re also not doing anything illegal. Sure, he’s watched you take money from people, but all you bring back are drinks. He watches for over half an hour, eyes always trailing back to you. Nothing. It’s remarkable how much absolutely nothing he’s seen. His patience is wearing thin. It’s one in the morning and there are better things he could be doing, people he could be helping. But he can’t leave without something for Bruce. He tries to ignore the bile that rises in his throat when he thinks of why he still cares about disappointing him. His eyebrow twitches and he decides suddenly and definitively: fuck it.

So he kicks in Penguin’s office doors.

“Ah, Red Hood. If it ain’t Gotham’s least favorite vigilante,” Oswald mutters past the cigar in his mouth. “Shut the doors behind you, would ya?”

Jason kicks them shut. No one needs to see the bloody mess that Oswald’s going to be in about fifteen minutes.

“Ah ah ah. Before you get any ideas, I would advise you to consider how bad it would be for you to be caught assaulting a reformed citizen of this great city,” Oswald gloats, stubby finger pointing at the camera in the corner.

Fuck. Now Jason has to talk. He hates talking to Cobblepot. It gets you approximately nowhere fast.

“Reformed? We both know you’re full of shit, Oz,” Red Hood taunts.

“I’m on the straight and narrow. Scout’s honor,” Penguin laughs, coughing through the harsh inhale he took of his cigar.

Nowhere. Fast.

“You’re bringing in too much money for that to be true. Your parties aren’t that good, Cobblepot.”

“Eh, you haven’t seen my toys. Most of ‘em come for the pretty little things I keep around.”

“So you’re pimping them out? You see that I can work with,” Hood retorts.

It would make sense, Oz getting his servers into sex work. It’s not the worst thing he could do if they were all willing. And if they weren’t? Well, that gives Jason a nice excuse to finally put a bullet through The Penguin.

“You don’t listen too well, do you? I’m a changed man. People can look at my dolls, but they can’t touch. Everyone loves eye candy,” Oswald says.

The doors open just as Jason considers pulling a gun on Oswald, cameras recording him or not.

“And there’s my favorite. What do ya need, doll?”

Jason watches you saunter in. You move with an almost feline gracefulness. His eyes clock the sway of your hips and the way you toss your hair over your shoulder. Then he watches the way Cobblepot’s pupils dilate as his eyes lock on you. You plant your hands on the desk, bend over as you smile saccharine at the old man sitting behind it. Oh, you’re good. Very good.

“Nothing much. Just that DA wanting his usual,” you say.

Oswald’s eyes rake lecherously over your body. He looks at you like he wants to put you in one of the glass cases that decorate his office. It makes Jason’s stomach turn. Then he pulls a key out from a locked drawer and drops it into your open palm. Now that piques his interest.

“Thanks, Oz,” you say sweetly.

As you straighten up and spin around to leave, Penguin grabs your wrist and yanks you back. He leaves one kiss on the inside of your wrist and that pretty facade cracks. It’s only for a second, so quick that Oswald doesn’t see it. Jason does. Disgust. Pure disgust flashes across your face before it’s replaced by an alluring smile. Your eyes spark with something Jason can’t quite read.

“Mind if I get some too, Ozzie? You know how much I like it,” you ask as you play with the beads that dangle on your chest.

“Sure, doll. Take whatever you want,” Oswald acquiesces.

Your face lights up and you look almost victorious. Then you spin around and head towards the doors. To this point you haven’t acknowledged him, the known vigilante, at all. But just before you leave, you pause right next to him. Jason tries not to flinch as your hand runs up his arm.

“I hope you’ve enjoyed your night here. Next time, feel free to ask for anything you want. Wouldn’t want Oz’s guests to get bored,” you purr.

Your eyes lock with the white lenses of his domino mask and Jason feels the air leave his lungs. You’d seen him. You knew he was there the whole fucking time. And you hadn’t told anyone. If you had, Cobblepot would’ve sent security in guns blazing.

“Have a good night, honey,” you tell him as you waltz out the door.

“See, Hood? Eye candy,” Oz hacks.

Jason follows you. What else was he supposed to do? Oswald gave him nothing. But you? You gave him what felt suspiciously like a lead. Ask for anything you want, you’d said. What else could you think he wanted but proof of Oswald’s lingering corruption? So he follows you. He’s careful this time. Quiet, precise steps that give no indication he’s near. It’s times like these he’s grateful for all the stealth training Bruce made him do as a kid.

He trails behind as you head downstairs. You weave through the maze of corridors until you come to a mahogany door, elaborately carved with floral emblems. It’s got an old brass lock on it that you slot the key into. Jason waits one beat, two, three—then goes through the door where you disappeared.

He finds you inside, crouching in front of an open safe. A rainbow of jewels glitter within. Diamonds, rubies, emeralds—there had to be enough jewelry in there to cover the cost of a couple of Bruce’s tricked out sports cars. You pull a more modest sapphire necklace from the safe and place it into one of the grab bags that guests can take home at the end of the night. So that’s what the DA wanted. You grab a far more ostentatious diamond bracelet and slip it into your bra.

“Think it’s a good idea to steal from your boss?”

You jump. Jason doesn’t want to admit how satisfied he is by that. He was a little worried that he’d lost his touch. You twirl around, eyes locked on the vigilante leaning against the closed door.

“Hmm…when I’ve got him wrapped around my finger? Why not?” you smirk.

You’re brave. He’ll give you that.

“Must really be putting on a show for him if you’re not worried,” he presses.

Your smile drops and your eye twitches in annoyance. He’s hit a nerve. Good.

“A show. That’s all it is. If he’s stupid enough to think it’ll be more than that, that’s his problem,” you bite, tone dripping venom instead of honey.

“Not scared he’ll realize the trick? Or what he’ll do when he does?” Red Hood asks as he fiddles with a knife he keeps in his belt.

He asks with sincerity. It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. You could end up dead. Or worse. Jason’s no stranger to people taking what they want by force, and Oz clearly wants you.

“Oswald’s a coward,” you reply harshly. “He only fucks with people weaker than him. So no, I’m not scared of toying with him. He won’t do a goddamn thing to me.”

Jason cocks his head, sizing you up. A pretty girl in lingerie working in a club thinks she’s stronger than a crime lord. Well, you’re probably not wrong.

“You’re not weak?” he asks mockingly.

But it’s still fun to test your resolve. To your credit and Jason’s surprise, you just grin. A breathy laugh falls from your red lips and Jason can’t help the way his eyes flicker down to look at the curve of them.

“I got this without so much as a fight, didn’t I?” you gloat, grabbing the diamond bracelet and swinging it around your middle finger.

“He let you.”

“Precisely. What exactly are you missing here? He let me. Because he’s a fool. And to let me take this bracelet specifically? Well, he’s just about the village idiot,” you laugh.

Jason sees the bait. His stubbornness almost makes him want to not ask just to spite you. But it’s just too intriguing.

“What’s so special about that bracelet?”

You smile wryly. Jason’s reflexes are the only reason he catches the bracelet as you toss it to him from across the room.

“Oh, I think you’re smart enough to figure that one out yourself, baby,” you purr. “Now get the fuck out.”

Jason does as he’s told. He returns to the cave with no intel beyond a locked room with a safe full of jewels and a diamond bracelet. Imagine his shock when Bruce analyzes the serial markings of the bracelet and finds that it was part of a collection that got robbed from a boutique in the Diamond District. It had been months and they hadn’t found a single piece of jewelry from the robbery. There were no leads on who did it or how. And now one of the most expensive pieces is sitting on the Batcomputer. Jason can guess where the rest are.

“Who gave you this?” Bruce asks skeptically.

Always doubt with the old man.

“A friend. Maybe,” Jason ponders.

Bruce rolls his eyes and shakes his head. Jason grins at how exhausted all his kids make him. It’s a point of pride among them: who can stress out B the most?

“You should figure that out,” Bruce scolds.

“Yeah, I think I will.”

Jason’s suddenly got a very vested interest in the Iceberg Lounge, and he’s going to satiate that curiosity if it kills him again.

[atlasthegreatest]

Heat of the Moment / Ning Yizhou x Female Reader

Which, Ning Yizhou can't help but lose herself in the heat of the moment when a very attractive woman looks at her in the middle of a club. But at the end of the night, maybe it stopped just being a heat of the moment.

Word count: 6445

Warnings: Slightly explicit scene (heavy makeout). They can't stop keeping their hands off each other.

A/n: I wrote this while listening to “Into You” by Ariana Grande. Shitty description, maybe ill change it later.

The club was a swirling kaleidoscope of colors—neon pinks and deep blues pulsing with the rhythm of the bass that seemed to shake the ground beneath everyone’s feet. The energy in the air was electric, and NingNing could feel it seeping into her skin, setting every nerve alight. Tonight, she was just Ning Yi Zhuo, not the NingNing of Aespa. No stages, no cameras—just music, the haze of alcohol, and the promise of something more.

Her lips curved in a small, secretive smile as she sipped her drink, the ice clinking softly against the glass. She wore a fitted black crop top that shimmered under the strobe lights, paired with sleek leather pants that hugged her legs perfectly. Her hair fell in soft waves down her back, and her makeup—a smoky eye with a bold red lip—was just enough to remind herself that tonight was hers. No rules, no limits.

And then, she saw her.

Y/n leaned against the bar, one arm resting casually on the counter as she spoke to the bartender. There was something magnetic about the way she held herself—like she wasn't just a part of the night but the reason it was burning so bright. Y/n wore an oversized shirt that hung just right over her frame with a black jacket over it, paired with loose black pants and chain accessories that glinted under the dim lights. Confident without trying, effortlessly cool.

NingNing’s gaze lingered a second too long, just enough for the other woman to feel it. And when Y/n looked her way, that lazy grin forming on her lips, the air between them seemed to tighten, pulling her closer without a word.

NingNing felt her heartbeat quicken. This wasn’t the kind of moment she was supposed to chase. But something about the way that woman’s eyes locked with hers—like she knew exactly what game she was playing and was more than ready to join—made it impossible to resist.

With a flick of her hair, NingNing set down her drink and started toward the mysterious woman, each step deliberate, every sway of her hips in perfect rhythm with the music. The crowd melted away as she closed the distance between them, the heat of anticipation making her skin tingle.

When she reached her, she stopped just close enough for their shoulders to brush.

“You’ve been looking at me,” NingNing said softly, her voice smooth but playful, just loud enough for the woman to hear over the music.

Y/n leaned down slightly, her breath warm against the idol’s ear. “You noticed?”

NingNing’s lips curled. “Hard not to.”

The tension between them crackled, subtle but charged, like the space between a match and a flame. Y/n tilted her head, the glint in her eyes making it clear that she was all in, with no hesitation.

“Dance with me,” Y/n murmured, though it sounded less like a question and more like a dare.

NingNing’s heart raced, but she didn’t let it show. Instead, she gave the tall woman a look that said I’ve got you right where I want you, even though she wasn’t entirely sure who was leading who. “Alright,” she whispered, the word brushing against Y/n’s skin like silk.

Y/n took her hand, her fingers cool and steady against hers, and guided her onto the dance floor. The music shifted, slowing just slightly, a deep, sultry rhythm threading through the air.

And that’s when it started—something unspoken, something intoxicating.

NingNing pressed close, her body molding effortlessly to Y/n’s as the two of them moved in sync, lost in the music and each other. Y/n’s hands found her waist, drawing her closer, and NingNing could feel the heat of her touch even through the fabric of her clothes. Every movement was deliberate—her hips swaying against hers, Y/n’s breath on her neck—like the world outside this dance didn’t exist.

It wasn’t just the way Y/n moved; it was the way she looked at her like she knew exactly what this night could become. Every glance, every brush of skin, every shift of weight felt like a slow dive into something dangerous and thrilling.

The song melted into another, but neither of them stopped. It was as if the beat was the only thing keeping their feet grounded and the only thing stopping either of them from leaning in too far, too fast. And yet, the temptation was undeniable—just one kiss away from losing all control.

Y/n’s hand trailed up her spine, sending shivers in its wake, and she leaned down once again, her lips brushing the shell of NingNing’s ear. “Let’s get out of here.”

It wasn’t a request—it was an inevitability. And NingNing knew she wanted it just as much as the other woman did. Her breath hitched, her mind buzzing with the thrill of everything Y/n was about to do, everything she shouldn’t.

Without another word, NingNing nodded, her fingers lacing with Y/n’s as she slipped through the crowd like conspirators sharing a beautiful secret. The two of them pushed out into the cool night air, leaving behind the thrum of the club but carrying the same heat between them.

——————

The world outside felt surreal, the quiet hum of the city streets no match for the pulse still thrumming in her veins. Y/n looked at her, a mischievous glint in her eyes, and NingNing couldn’t help but smile—because somehow, she knew tonight was just the beginning.

Y/n tugged her closer, and without a second thought, NingNing let herself fall deeper into her—into this moment, into the spark they had ignited together. No past, no future, just now. And she was ready to burn for it.

“Where to?” she asked, her voice low, a playful challenge in her tone.

Y/n grinned, brushing a thumb over her hand. “Anywhere. As long as it’s with you.”

And that was all she needed to hear. The night stretched out before them, full of endless possibilities, and NingNing was more than ready to explore every one of them—with Y/n.

———————-

The streets felt different now— emptier as they belonged to Y/n and NingNing. There was a charge in the air, crackling between their linked hands, the unspoken promise of everything that could happen. The moonlight dripped over the pavement, illuminating the two of them like a spotlight in the dark.

Neither of them said much as they wandered away from the crowded nightlife, but the silence between them wasn’t awkward— it was electric, filled with the kind of tension that made every glance and every touch feel like a spark ready to ignite.

They walked side by side until Y/n found a secluded alleyway, just outside the reach of the city’s noise. NingNing stopped first, her back resting against the cool brick wall, the smirk on her lips matching the daring glint in her eyes.

“ You’re trouble,” she murmured, her gaze flicking over the tall woman, playful but serious.

Y/n took a step closer, bracing her hand on the wall beside the idol. “ Is that a bad thing?”

NingNing’s lips curved into a knowing smile, her fingers trailing lightly up Y/n’s forearm, sending shivers in their wake. “ No,” she whispered, “I like trouble.”

Before Y/n could respond, NingNing pulled her down by the collar of her shirt, her lips crashing into hers. The kiss was instant heat— no hesitation, no second-guessing. Just pure want. It was slow, deep, and unrelenting, the kind of kiss that left her dizzy, as if the world tilted, and all that remained was this moment between them.

Y/n’s hands slid over NingNing’s waist, pulling her closer until there wasn’t a breath of space between their bodies. NingNing tasted sweetness and something darker— like she had been waiting all night for this, and now that she had it, she wasn’t going to let go.

NingNing’s fingers tangled in Y/n’s hair, tugging enough to draw a soft groan from her, and it only made the Chinese woman smile into the kiss. Y/n knew that smile— it was dangerous. Like she was enjoying every second of unraveling her. And Y/n likes it.

“Careful,” Y/n murmured against her lips, breathless. “You might regret this.”

NingNing’s laugh was soft, but her eyes glittered with challenge. “I don’t regret things I want.”

With that, she kissed Y/n again, fiercer this time, as if daring her to keep up with her pace. And Y/n did. She matched her intensity, each kiss becoming hungrier, more urgent like she was chasing something she knew she couldn’t hold on to but couldn’t resist anyway.

The world around them disappeared, and all that remained was the taste of NingNing, the press of her body, and the heat simmering between them. Time slipped away, lost in the rhythm of their shared breath and the way her hands explored every part of Y/n she could reach.

When they finally pulled away, gasping for air, their foreheads rested against each other. Both of them were breathless, their hearts pounding in sync like a song only the two of them could hear.

“Still think I’m trouble?” Y/n asked, grinning.

NingNing smirked, her thumb brushing lightly over Y/n’s lower lip. “ Absolutely”

Her gaze softened for a moment, just enough to make Y/n wonder what she was thinking— what was hiding behind that playful exterior. But before Y/n could ask, NingNing grabbed her hand again, pulling her away from the wall.

“Come on,” she said, her voice light but full of promise. “The night’s not over yet.”

And just like that, she was leading Y/n deeper into the night, as if everyone was part of a game only she knew the rules too. But Y/n didn’t care. She’d follow her anywhere.

The two of them wandered through the quiet streets, a pair of conspirators lost in the thrill of the unknown. The city felt alive beneath Y/n’s feet, but none of it mattered— only her, only now.

At some point, they found themselves at an overlook, where the skyline stretched wide and shimmering before them, like a sea of stars scattered across the earth. NingNing leaned against the railing, the cool breeze lifting her hair, and for a moment, she looked out over the city with a rare softness in her expression.

“This,” she whispered as if sharing a secret with Y/n. “This is what freedom feels like.”

Y/nleaned beside her, her shoulder brushing NingNing’s. “Does it?”

NingNing turned to Y/n, a spark dancing in her eyes. “Yeah. Just you, me, and the night.”

For a moment, they both stood there, the city buzzing quietly below while the world between them hummed with anticipation. And then, without warning, NingNing pulled Y/n toward her, her lips brushing her in a kiss that felt different— softer, slower. Like a promise that maybe, just maybe, the night didn’t have to end.

And at that moment, with NingNing pressed against her and the city lights flickering in the distance, Y/n knew she’d chase this feeling for as long as she let her.

Because with NingNing, nothing was guaranteed— except that every second with her would feel like diving headfirst into the fire. And somehow, that was exactly what Y/n wanted.

——————

The night stretched endlessly before them, like a dream they didn’t want to wake from. NingNing’s hand stayed firmly in Y/n’s as they both walked through the quiet streets, the world seeming smaller, more intimate—just the two of them and the night sky hanging low above.

NingNing was buzzing with life, radiating a kind of joy that made it impossible not to smile. Every time she glanced over at Y/n, her eyes sparkled mischievously, as if she was daring her to keep up. And Y/n would—wherever this night led, she’d follow her.

“You’re too quiet,” NingNing teased, swinging her hand playfully. “Second thoughts already?”

Y/n smirked. “Not a chance.”

The idol tilted her head, her grin widening. “Good.” Then, as if on impulse, NingNing spun toward Y/n, walking backward with that same reckless energy that had drawn the other woman in from the start. “So, tell me…” She bit her lip, drawing the words out just to watch Y/n’s reaction. “What are you thinking right now?”

Y/n stopped, pretending to consider her answer. “I think…” she leaned closer, her gaze steady on NingNing’s. “I think you like playing with fire.”

Her laugh was soft and dangerous, the kind of laugh that told Y/n she didn’t mind getting burned. “Maybe I do.”

Before she could respond, NingNing was tugging her along again, this time toward a narrow set of stairs tucked between two buildings. Y/n followed without hesitation, feeling the thrill of her unpredictability pull her deeper. At the top of the stairs was a rooftop garden—small but private, with fairy lights strung between potted plants and a few benches scattered about. It was quiet here, the sounds of the city far below, leaving only the breeze and the faint hum of the lights around them.

NingNing let go of Y/n’s hand and wandered toward the edge of the roof, where she rested her arms on the railing, her gaze drifting over the city skyline. Y/n followed her, drawn to the quietness of the moment—a rare softness beneath her playful exterior.

“Do you do this often?” Y/n asked, standing beside the short girl.

NingNing glanced at Y/n, her lips quirking upward. “What? Drag strangers through the city for no reason?”

“Something like that.”

Her smile softened, and for a moment, she looked almost shy—almost. “Not really,” she admitted, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I just… needed this tonight.”

Y/n understood what she meant without her having to say it aloud. The need to escape, to feel alive, to find a moment that belonged only to you. Y/n leaned her arms on the railing, the silence between them comfortable this time.

“I get it,” Y/n murmured. “Sometimes you need to forget everything else.”

NingNing nodded, her gaze still fixed on the city lights. Then, without warning, she turned toward the tall woman, her expression unreadable. “What if we don’t stop?”

Y/n blinked. “Don’t stop what?”

“This.” She gestured vaguely between the two of them. “What if we just keep going? No rules, no plans. Just… us, until the sun comes up.”

The way she said it—like it was both a challenge and an invitation—sent a thrill down Y/n’s spine. Y/n knew there was something reckless about the idea, but with NingNing looking at her like that, every reason to say no melted away.

“Okay,” Y/n whispered, her voice low but steady. “Let’s do it.”

NingNing’s smile was radiant, a spark of excitement flashing in her eyes. “I knew you’d say yes.”

Before Y/n could say anything else, she closed the distance between them, NingNing’s hands sliding up to cup her face. The kiss that followed was slower than before, but no less intense—a deliberate, lingering exploration that made it clear this wasn’t just about the rush. It was about savoring every second, every breath, every spark between them.

Y/n kissed her back just as slowly, her hands settling on NingNing’s waist, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. The rooftop, the city, the world—it all faded away, leaving only the two of them tangled together under the night sky.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting together. NingNing’s eyes stayed closed for a moment longer as if holding onto the feeling a little longer before the world could intrude again.

“You’re dangerous,” Y/n murmured, brushing her thumb lightly over her cheek.

NingNing smiled, her eyes fluttering open to meet Y/n’s. “I know.”

They both stayed like that for a while—wrapped in the moment, in each other, in the unspoken promise of everything the night still had to offer. There was no need to rush. The sun was still hours away, and the night felt endless.

And somehow, Y/n knew that no matter where the night took them next, she’d follow her—into the fire, into the unknown, into everything and nothing at all. Because with NingNing, the only thing that mattered was now.

——————-

The sky had begun to shift—inky black softening into dark purple, the first signs of dawn creeping along the horizon. The night was slowly slipping away, but neither of them had spoken about it. It was easier to pretend that time didn’t matter when you were still wrapped up in the warmth of each other’s presence.

NingNing leaned against Y/n’s shoulder in the car, her breath soft and steady. The hum of the engine and the quiet city streets felt like a lullaby, making it almost too easy to imagine that the night could last forever. She wasn’t asleep, but she was close—her hand resting lazily on Y/n’s thigh, her fingers tracing absent patterns against the fabric of the taller woman’s pants.

“I don’t want to go back yet,” she murmured, her voice low and drowsy.

Y/n smiled, glancing at NingNing as she turned down a quiet street. “I know.”

NingNing sighed, closing her eyes for a moment as if savoring the last bits of freedom the night had given her. Eventually, she shifted slightly, her fingers tightening around Y/n’s in a quiet goodbye to the wildness of the night.

“They’ll be awake,” she said, half-groaning. “They’ll never let me live this down.”

Y/n chuckled softly. “We can keep driving if you want. Find somewhere else to hide.”

NingNing lifted her head, giving Y/n a playful, tired smile. “Tempting. But I’ll run out of excuses sooner or later.”

Y/n turned into the parking lot of her dorm, the building looming quietly in the early morning light. The parking spot she found was tucked into a corner, almost like it was trying to hide along with them.

For a moment, neither of them moved. The car stays running, the soft thrum of the engine filling the space between them. NingNing gave Y/n a look—half amused, half reluctant—as if she wanted her to be the one to say what came next.

“Well,” Y/n began softly, “we made it through the night.”

She smiled, but it was bittersweet. “Barely.”

Her hand lingered on Y/n’s for another second, as if anchoring herself before she let go. Y/n knew that the moment she stepped out of the car, the magic of the night would dissolve—just another wild, beautiful memory.

“Thanks for… everything,” she said, her voice softer now. There was a vulnerability in the way she looked at Y/n like the NingNing she’d seen on stage was peeling back to reveal something more.

“Anytime,” Y/n whispered. And she meant it.

NingNing hesitated, then leaned in one last time, pressing a kiss to Y/n’s cheek. “You’re dangerous too,” she whispered with a grin before slipping out of the car, leaving the withered woman stunned and breathless.

Y/n watched as she made her way to the entrance, the door to her dorm building illuminated by a faint glow. Just as she was about to punch in the key code, the door swung open—and out stepped Giselle, looking wide awake, with a knowing smirk already forming on her face.

“Well, well,” Giselle drawled, crossing her arms over her chest. “Look who decided to come home.”

NingNing groaned, dragging a hand over her face. “Please, unnie. Don’t start.”

But Giselle wasn’t about to let this one slide. “Who’s the getaway driver?” she asked, peeking over NingNing’s shoulder and spotting you through the windshield. A mischievous glint sparkled in her eyes. “You had a night, didn’t you?”

NingNing shot her a glare, but there was no real heat behind it. “I’m going to bed,” she muttered, brushing past her.

Before NingNing could escape inside, Karina and Winter appeared from around the corner, both of them in hoodies and slippers, clearly having waited up for her.

Winter gave a sleepy yawn but managed a sly grin. “Told you she’d come home with a story.”

Karina tilted her head, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “I didn’t think it’d come with a chauffeur, though.”

NingNing groaned dramatically, throwing her hands in the air. “Can I please get inside without the peanut gallery?”

Giselle smirked, leaning casually against the doorframe. “You can, but you owe us details. Later.”

As the girls giggled and teased her, NingNing shot Y/n a glance through the car window, her eyes sparkling with exhaustion and amusement. She gave the other woman a small wave, mouthing the words, I’ll text you.

Y/n nodded, smiling softly as she watched NingNing disappear inside with her members. Even from the car, she could hear snippets of their playful banter—Karina telling her to “be more discreet next time,” Winter asking if the night was worth the teasing she was about to endure, and Giselle reminding everyone that NingNing’s mischief was long overdue.

The door finally closed behind them, leaving Y/n alone in the stillness of the morning. Y/n sat there for a moment longer, the events of the night replaying in her mind like a film she didn’t want to end.

And as she drove away from the dorm, the first light of dawn creeping over the horizon, she couldn’t stop smiling.

Because somewhere between the crowded club, the stolen kisses, and the quiet moments beneath the city lights, she’d found something with NingNing—something wild, fleeting, and real. And she knew, without a doubt, that if NingNing ever called again, she’d be there in a heartbeat.

The night might be over, but with her, there would always be another. And Y/n couldn’t wait.

Bonus Chapter:

The next morning, NingNing woke up to the sound of her phone buzzing insistently against the pillow beside her. She groaned, squinting at the bright screen. The group chat was blowing up.

Giselle: Good morning, Miss I-Won’t-Regret-Anything.

Winter: So, did you at least kiss them goodbye?

Karina: Still can’t believe we caught you sneaking back in like a rom-com character.

Giselle: Right? If she’d waited two more minutes, we would’ve missed it.

Winter: Timing is everything, babe.

NingNing buried her face in the pillow, groaning loudly. They weren’t going to let this go.

With a sigh, she rolled out of bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The dorm was quiet now—Karina was probably doing yoga, Winter was most likely glued to her phone, and Giselle… well, Giselle was probably planning even more ways to torment NingNing about last night.

She shuffled out of her room and into the kitchen, where Winter was perched on the countertop, scrolling on her phone with an evil grin plastered across her face. As soon as she spotted NingNing, she held the phone up like a trophy.

“You’re a legend, by the way,” Winter said, smirking. “Look at this.”

On the screen was a blurry picture taken from inside the dorm lobby—the exact moment NingNing had stepped out of Y/n’s car.

NingNing groaned, trying to swipe the phone out of Winter’s hands. “Who even took that?!”

Winter dodged her, laughing. “A fan probably. The caption says ‘NingNing spotted arriving home at dawn. New love interest?’ You’re trending, babe.”

“Great,” NingNing muttered sarcastically, running a hand through her hair. “Just what I needed.”

Giselle strutted into the kitchen, still in her pajamas, clearly enjoying every second of NingNing’s misery. “You were practically glowing when you got home. Don’t try to deny it.”

“I was tired,” NingNing shot back, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. “Not glowing.”

Karina wandered in next, looking far too zen for someone who had been waiting up just hours ago. She gave NingNing a small, knowing smile. “You should have told us if you were planning a night adventure. We would’ve covered for you.”

NingNing groaned, plopping down at the kitchen table. “You guys are the worst.”

“Oh, come on.” Giselle nudged her playfully. “We’re just happy for you. It’s about time you had some fun.”

Winter’s smirk grew even wider. “So… Are you gonna see them again, or was this a one-night thing?”

NingNing’s cheeks flushed. She hated how easily her members could read her, but there was no point in pretending otherwise. “I don’t know,” she mumbled, fiddling with the cap of her water bottle. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Karina repeated with a teasing lilt. “That’s not the NingNing we saw last night. Where’s the confidence?”

NingNing rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the smile creeping onto her lips. “Okay, fine. Yes. I’ll probably see her again.”

Giselle clapped her hands together, clearly delighted. “Now that’s what I’m talking about!”

Winter leaned in with a wicked grin. “When you do, tell her to park farther from the dorm next time. We don’t need the whole fandom knowing about your secret rendezvous.”

“Shut up,” NingNing muttered, though she couldn’t help but laugh along with them.

She didn’t mind their teasing—not really. It was all part of their dynamic, and deep down, she knew they were just looking out for her in their chaotic way.

Her phone buzzed again, and she glanced down to see a text from you.

Y/n: Hope you made it through the teasing. Miss me yet?

NingNing bit her lip, trying to hide the smile that spread across her face. She typed back quickly.

NingNing: Not sure yet. Might need another night to decide.

As soon as she hit send, she felt the familiar thrill creep back into her chest. The night might have been over, but this thing between them? It was just getting started.

Winter caught the look on NingNing’s face and gave her a smug grin. “Yup. She’s gone.”

Giselle high-fived her from across the kitchen. “We called it.”

Karina just smiled knowingly. “You’d better bring snacks next time, though. That’s the tax for making us worry all night.”

NingNing laughed, rolling her eyes. “You guys are impossible.”

But she didn’t mind. With her members by her side—and the promise of another wild night on the horizon—NingNing felt lighter, freer, and more herself than she had in a long time.

And she couldn’t wait to see where the next adventure with you would take her.

———————

Days passed, but the buzz from that night lingered in the back of NingNing’s mind. The stolen moments, the thrill of the unknown, and the way Y/n’s hand fit perfectly in hers replayed like a favorite song on repeat. She’d catch herself smiling for no reason, lost in the memory, only to be pulled back to reality by teasing glances from the other girls.

Her phone chimed again as she scrolled through messages during a rare free afternoon.

Y/n: What are you doing tonight?

The corners of her lips tugged upward, and without thinking, she replied.

NingNing: Depends. Are we doing something stupid?

Y/n responded almost instantly.

Y/n: Of course. Wouldn’t have it any other way.

She bit her lip, excitement bubbling under her skin.

Y/n: I’ll be there at midnight. Same place.

NingNing knew she was in trouble. The smart thing would’ve been to stay in, get some rest—maybe catch up on some sleep.

——————-

The smart thing would’ve been to stay in, but NingNing wasn’t looking for smart—she was looking for Y/n. And as midnight approached, her heart raced at the thought of whatever the other woman had planned this time.

By 11:30, she was already dressed. She kept it simple: an oversized hoodie, ripped jeans, and a black baseball cap to keep things low-key. As she laced up her sneakers, Giselle popped her head into NingNing’s room, raising an eyebrow.

“Midnight adventure again?” Giselle asked, smirking.

NingNing shot her a playful glare. “Don’t start.”

Giselle leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, thoroughly enjoying the show. “You could at least pretend you’re sneaking out. It’s way more fun that way.”

NingNing rolled her eyes, tugging her cap lower over her face. “You guys are like evil siblings.”

“Just looking out for you,” Giselle said with a grin. “Try not to get caught by fans this time, yeah?”

“No promises.” NingNing grabbed her phone and slipped it into her hoodie pocket. “And don’t wait up.”

She padded through the dorm, careful not to wake Karina and Winter, who were sprawled across the couch in their pajamas, watching a drama half-asleep. Karina gave a sleepy wave as NingNing passed. “Be safe,” she mumbled, not even bothering to ask where she was going.

NingNing slipped out of the building just as Y/n’s car pulled into the parking lot. The sight of Y/n waiting there sent a shiver of excitement through her. She jogged over and opened the passenger door, sliding in with a grin.

“You’re early,” she teased, clicking her seatbelt.

Y/n gave her a playful look. “So are you.”

The engine purred to life as Y/n pulled out of the lot, the city lights blurring in the distance. “I figured we could keep it simple tonight,” she said, her voice warm in the quiet of the car. “I know a spot. Thought you might like it.”

“Simple?” NingNing repeated, arching a brow. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

Y/n smirked. “Don’t worry. It’s still dangerous enough.”

The roads were quieter than usual, the streets glowing with the muted amber of streetlights. With the windows cracked just enough to let the cool night air sweep in, NingNing closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the calm that only seemed to come when she was with Y/n.

“So, where are we going?” she asked after a few minutes, her voice light with curiosity.

Y/n glanced over at NingNing briefly, her expression unreadable. “You’ll see.”

There was something about the way she said it—like a promise, soft and full of possibility—that made NingNing’s heart race. She didn’t ask again. She was content to let Y/n lead, the same way she’d been content to follow Y/n through the night last time.

Eventually, Y/n pulled onto a winding road that led to a secluded hill overlooking the city. When the car stopped, NingNing leaned forward, taking in the view. The city stretched out below, shimmering with lights that flickered like stars. It was breathtaking, quiet, and private—the kind of place that felt like it belonged to the two of them alone.

“Wow,” NingNing whispered, her breath catching slightly.

Y/n smiled, pleased with her reaction. “Figured you’d like it.”

NingNing unbuckled her seatbelt and climbed out of the car, walking toward the edge of the hill. The breeze tugged gently at her hoodie as she stood there, taking it all in.

Y/n joined her, her shoulder brushing against the Chinese idol. For a moment, neither of them spoke content in the shared silence. It felt like they had found a pocket of the world untouched by time—just the two of them beneath the stars, with nothing to interrupt the moment.

“This,” NingNing said softly, “is perfect.”

Y/n turned to her, her gaze lingering on the curve of her smile. “You’re perfect.”

NingNing looked up at Y/n, her expression caught between surprise and amusement. “Smooth.”

Y/n grinned. “Had to try.”

NingNing shook her head, but there was no hiding the warmth in her eyes. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Anything you want,” the tall woman whispered, her voice low, intimate.

NingNing’s breath hitched slightly, the tension between them crackling like electricity. And just like before, the world around Y/n melted away as NingNing leaned in, closing the distance between them.

The kiss was slow and sweet, filled with everything the night couldn’t put into words. Her hands slid up to Y/n’s neck, fingers tangling in her hair as Y/n pulled her closer, holding on like the moment might slip through her fingers if she let go.

When they finally broke apart, their foreheads rested together, breaths mingling in the cool night air.

“This feels dangerous,” NingNing whispered, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

Y/n chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Good. I was hoping it would.”

The two of them stood there for a while longer, the city lights twinkling below like tiny promises waiting to be kept. Neither of them was in a hurry to leave.

Eventually, NingNing sighed, though her smile remained. “If I sneak back in and the girls catch me again, they’re never going to let this go.”

Y/n smirked. “Worth it?”

NingNing laughed quietly, the sound soft and warm. “Yeah. Worth it.”

And at that moment, under the stars with Y/n by her side, NingNing knew she’d follow this feeling wherever it took her—no matter how many teasing texts or blurry fan photos came with it.

Because some things, she realized, were just too good to resist. And this—whatever this was—was one of them.

———————-

The night stretched on, the kind of night that makes you forget morning even exists. Y/n and NingNing stayed on that hill far longer than they should have, talking, laughing, and stealing kisses under the stars. But eventually, the weight of reality crept in. It was getting late—or early— and they both knew it was time to head back before the city woke up and prying eyes made things complicated.

The drive back to the dorms was filled with soft music and stolen glances. NingNing rested her hand on Y/n’s as the latter drove, her thumb lazily tracing circles along her skin. Every touch from her felt like a promise— one that the night wasn’t quite over yet.

By the time Y/n pulled into the dorm parking lot, the sky was still dark, save for a faint purple hue at the horizon’s edge. Y/n parked close to the entrance, the glow from the building’s lights casting long shadows over the car.

As she cut the engine, neither of them made a move to get out. NingNing shifted in her seat to face Y/n, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I should probably go,” she whispered, though her body language said the opposite.

Y/n grinned, leaning closer. “Probably.”

She didn’t move. Neither did Y/n.

And then, as if on cue, the space between them vanished. NingNing leaned in, her lips meeting Y/n’s in a slow, lingering kiss— one that was filled with all the things neither of them had said aloud. Y/n’s hand found its way to the back of her neck, pulling her closer as NingNing’s fingers curled into the fabric of Y/n’s hoodie.

“I really should go,” the short girl murmured against Y/n’s lips, though she did not attempt to leave.

“Mm-hmm,” the tall woman whispered back, capturing NingNing’s mouth again in a way that made her giggle softly.

The moment unraveled, becoming less of a goodbye and more of a final, stolen indulgence. NingNing shifted, and before either of them could stop it, she was pressed against the side of the car, Y/n’s hands on her waist as the tall woman kissed her deeper. NingNing responded eagerly, her body arching into Y/n’s, lost in the heat and thrill of the moment.

That’s when it happened.

The sound of the front door creaking open— loud and unmistakable in the still night air.

“Oh, my God!”

They both froze, their lips still inches apart, caught red-handed— or more accurately, red-lipped. Slowly, they turned to the source of the voice.

There they were: Giselle, Karina, and Winter, standing in the doorway in various states of sleepwear. Giselle had her phone out, already pointing it at the two of you like she was recording a scene from a reality show. Winter looked half-awake, a sleepy grin spreading across her face, while Karina just folded her arms with an amused, knowing expression.

“Oh, no,” NingNing muttered under her breath, her cheeks burning as she buried her face against Y/n’s chest.

“Don’t stop on our account,” Giselle said, trying— and failing— to stifle her laughter. “We were enjoying the show.”

“You guys,” NingNing groaned, still hiding her face. “Please tell me this is a bad dream.”

Winter yawned, leaning against the doorframe. “Nope. Very real. And very entertaining.”

Karina arched a brow, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “You know the front door has cameras, right?”

NingNing pulled back just enough to glare at her members, though she was still pressed close against Y/n. “ I hate you all.”

“You love us,” Giselle sang, clearly delighted by the situation.

Y/n tried to keep her composure, but it was hard not to laugh along with them. “So…this is awkward.”

“Awkward for you.” Giselle quipped. “Hilarious, for us.”

NingNing groaned again, giving Y/n a look that said, This is your fault too. But the other woman could see the sparkle in her eyes— she was embarrassed, sure, but she was also fighting back laughter.

Karina, ever the responsible leader, finally stepped in. “Alright, alright. Let’s get inside before someone does see and post this.” She gave NingNing a teasing smile. “We’ll save the interrogation for later.”

As the other girls headed back inside— still chuckling and whispering— NingNing turned back to Y/n, her face still flushed.

“Well,” she said with a rueful grin. “ that was a disaster.”

Y/n grinned, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “ Not entirely. I’d say it was worth it.

NingNing rolled her eyes, but the smile on her lips was undeniable. “ You’re unbelievable.”

Y/n leaned in one last time, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. “Text me when you’re done getting roasted.”

“Better believe I will,” NingNing muttered with a playful grin, slipping out of Y/n’s grasp.

As she jogged toward the entrance, Giselle called back over her shoulder, “Goodnight, lovebirds! Or should I say, good morning?”

NingNing shot Y/n one last glance, her smile lingering even as she shook her head in mock exasperation.

And as the door swung shut behind her, leaving Y/n alone in the parking lot, she couldn’t help but laugh. Because even if the night didn’t end as quietly as she’d planned, it was still perfect in its own chaotic, ridiculous way.

And something told her there’d be many more nights like this to come.

[kittydoodle]

[ID: 3 drawings of a tan skinned person with bright blue scene hair in various rave outfits featuring huge pants. First, she's sitting and making a heart with his hands, in a neon pink and purple outfit. Second is him dancing in a black, pink, and green fit, with a purple shirt with Gir from Invader Zim on it. Third, she's dancing in a light pink and purple fit, with a smiley belt chain, blue and white tail, and crop top that says, "fag" on it. The background is a rainbow gradient with various doodles such as smileys, the words, "Luvrboy" and "Luvr," and random shapes. End ID.]

my awesome headmate btw (she/he)

[chez-cinnamon]

Regarding the clothes ask what style of clothes would you think everyone would naturally lean towards?

I’ll probably get to sketching them at some point but:

- Pomni leans towards a mix of casual and elegant, depending on what the event of the day calls for; if it’s a more casual day like hanging out in the bedrooms or going out to the carnival or lake, she opts for vivid primary colours (with purple accents to represent Kinger lol), shirts/sweaters with big puffy sleeves, comfy pants and butterfly shaped ribbons. She also sometimes just wears her jester hat as if it were hair bc she thinks it’s funny sometimes. When the day calls for something more elegant and regal, she likes to wear smoking suits, lots of dark purple fabric to accent red, blue and white accessories or pants, hair often styled into braids or buns. She gravitates more to feminine suits than dresses. She also has a liking towards leotards due to how freeing movements are.

- Kinger and Queenie are more traditional with regal aesthetics. Kinger’s wardrobe is more samey with frilly boleros, elegant corsets and waistcoats, fancy tight pants that are still good enough to run around in, even some knight armour thrown in sometimes, all in different shades of purple. Queenie’s wardrobe is full of various elegant dresses and smoking suits, more modern and complementary to her figure, a lot of florals, tight around the legs, as well as leotards to match Pomni, all in red. They both share lots of golden accents and accessories, and they both have some more casual clothes and gardening attire.

- Caine’s wardrobe is always growing, as he’s starting to learn a more casual style. He loves his basic red and yellow ringmaster look and the variations he has, but he enjoys cozier clothes on slower days. He likes sweaters, sweater vests, dress shirts, cardigans and slippers, he loves feeling cozy!! But he shares similar tastes to Kinger as well.

- I HC Ragatha as being a farm girl before she got sucked into TADC, so a lot of her outfits are very inspired by cottagecore and farmer’s girl outfits: flowy dresses, summer hats, floral shirt tied up into a crop top, the whole nine yards. She likes a lot of her outfits in pastel blues, covered in patchwork of all sorts.

- Jax likes 2000s casual fashion and streetwear. Think the skater boy next door: dirty sneakers, graphic tee over a long sleeve white shirt, baggy pants with chains on, beanies and necklaces. He also likes a lot of hoodies and sweatpants, all in purples, pinks and yellows.

- Gangle gives off big ballet girl vibes with a mix of Japanese subcultures. Oversized shirts to wear as dresses, jackets that look way too big on her, outfits akin to ballet attire, lots of ribbons and pastels mixed with neon colours. I also HC Gangle as genderfluid, bc I love how masc she looked in the Japanese TADC cafe advert, so I can see her in blockier clothes like her attire from that ad but still retaining that ballet/kawaii vibe. Also a fun fact about GM!Gangle’s outfits is that a lot of them are long pieces of ribbon that can attach to the back of her mask and wrap around her to form a more solid body and outfits, but she still wears regular clothing bc it’s not really warm only wearing ribbons.

- Zooble is a HUGE fan of scenecore aesthetics, as well as emo culture and maximalist fashion. Like with their Zooble parts, anything can go; they like to layer clothes, clash patterns, customise their parts with mementos from adventures, create hair-like extensions to wear on their head. They don’t have any colour preferences, they accept anything lol

[belovedwhore]

pretty boy pt 4

ethan landry x reader

warnings: smut, little bit of plot, slight nipple play, oral (f!receiving), overstimulation

notes: sorry i’ve been gone for a while but i’m back and i come bearing gifts. i hope you enjoy this cuz i grinded this shit outttt. anyways enough chit chat please enjoy and indulge you ethan obsession below

also he was at econ

pt 1 , pt 2 , pt 3 , pt 4 , pt 5 , pt 6

————————————————————————

it’d been almost a week since the party and the morning after where you and ethan had hooked up. you guys haven’t done anything since, not really having time between your opposing classes or any opportunities to sneak away from your friend group when you all hung out. but you’d see him tonight at yet another frat party chad was dragging your friend group to.

“chad what are you a frat boy now,” you asked while your friend group walked campus, making your way back to your apartments to get ready for the party.

it was already 7:30pm and you guys wanted to meet up again around 9pm to walk to the party together.

“fits the role, i mean look at him he’s a curly headed himbo,” tara teased.

“hey i’m not a frat boy,” chad argued, “but… if i were that wouldn’t be a bad thing ya know not all of them are douchey assholes.”

“yea, only ones named chad,” mindy chimed.

“oh fuck off,” he scoffed as the rest of us laughed.

after like twenty more minutes you arrived at tara’s apartment building. you held the door as mindy, tara, and anika headed inside. chad was going to head to his dorm to get ready and come back later.

“see you later,” he spoke as he started to leave.

“oh wait,” you stopped him, “is ethan coming tonight?”

he smirked at your question, making kissy faces teasingly as you inquired about your “friend”.

“oh fuck off is he or not?”

“yea he’ll be there but later than us, he has a late econ class tonight so he’s coming on his own,” chad finally answered.

“ok, good,” you replied nodding to yourself.

“well i’ll be back,” he said heading for the door, “see you soon sex demon.”

this goddamn nickname, fucking tara.

as promised chad returned about an hour later and you guys all left for the party. it wasn’t too far a walk, just fifteen from tara’s apartment. the theme for the party was neon so you opted for a white crop top with a neon pink skirt. the other girls pretty much went for the same thing just a different variety of colors. and of course our beloved himbo went for the sleeveless route with a pair of neon blue shorts. the five of you arrived at the house and were let into the party. it was a house party, nothing too crazy but there were a lot more people than usual, the lighting dim in the living room with blue leds around. anika and mindy left to go find a spot on a couch somewhere, they enjoyed people watching at these things. you, tara, and chad spotted a table of jell-o shots, each taking down three. you guys talked as the alcohol started to affect you, dancing and singing to the music. after a while you guys headed to kitchen to get some more to drink. the lighting was better in the kitchen as the three of you took three shots of vodka together. as you slightly zoned out you felt the shots start to warm your skin as you had just downed your sixth of the night, giggling with tara fumbling for a drink to carry around. snapping you out of your daze was a yell that came from chad.

“ethan,” he screamed across the island over the loud music, “you made it.”

ethan made his way to over to the them on the other side of the island, slightly stumbling.

he drunkenly laughed, “hey guysss, look it’s my friends!”

he wrapped his arms around the three of you, well as best as he could. you weren’t exactly sure how he was already drunk and better yet a little drunker than you.

“ethan buddy,” chad laughed, “when’d you get here and how are you so fucked up?”

“i’m not ‘fucked up’ chad,” he playfully punched him, “just slightly buzzed, and some guys from my class said they were coming here too and invited me to pregame.”

“pregaming wow,” tara gasped patting him on the shoulder, “who are you.”

you laughed at her exaggeration, tara was quite outspoken well more than usual and touchy when she drank, very similar to you.

she chirped, “chad come with me we’re gonna go kick ass at pong,” grabbing his hand leading him into the crowd.

“you mean i’m gonna kick ass at pong while you stand there looking hot,” he scoffed, allowing himself to be dragged away leaving you and ethan alone in the busy kitchen.

his hand began to dance along your waist tracing the exposed skin, sending chills up your body.

“i haven’t seen you in a while,” he told you, moving closer so you could hear him clearly.

“i know,” you swiftly answered.

“i’ve missed you, you know, in more ways than one,” he trailed off, his hand reaching up your back.

“oh really,” you inquired, “you’re cute like this.”

“like what.”

“drunk and talkative and touching me.”

“oh i-i could do more of that, hmm” he whispered moving closer to your face.

“mhmm i’d really like that-,” you rushed out kissing him quickly.

you both melted into the kiss, having not seen each other for days, longing for each others touch. ethan took control for the first time in this kiss. you felt him bite your bottom lip slightly, pulling it and using this as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. his tongue explored the depths of your mouth, eager to know you better. you moaned into the kiss, pulling him closer to you by his waist when suddenly you felt him pull away. you were both breathing heavily, his lips were red and plump from your kiss and you only wanted to do it again.

“upstairs,” he spoke, taking your hand and leading you to any empty room.

took about four tries but finally you found an unlocked and unoccupied room, rushing inside. as you entered the room ethan quickly resumed your kiss walking you back until the back of your legs hit the bed and you both fell atop of it. he hovered above you kissing you strongly and massaging your thigh. he brought your leg to his waist, grinding onto your center as he moved his lips to your neck. he kissed your earlobe, sucking marks into your skin that were sure to be seen tomorrow. you whimpered as he nipped at your neck, licking stripes after irritating the area.

“e-ethan,” you moaned, gripping his hair tightly.

moving your hand down his body you reached his clothed cock, hidden under his joggers. you began to palm him through the material, massaging his hardening member as he trembled above you. then you felt him grab your wandering hand and move it above your head, now straddling your hips.

breathing heavily he removed his own hand, moving his lips down your chest, pressing quick, wet kisses to your collarbone and down the valley of your chest. he rubbed your tits through your shirt and bra, peeling back the layers to reveal your plump tits and hardened nipples to the air. he immediately attached his lips to one nipple while playing with the other, rolling it between his fingers, pinching it. you squirmed under his body, yearning for any type of friction to help relieve pressure on the knot forming inside of you as he tended to you nipples. he switched to the other, swirling his tongue around the bud sucking on it. you jolted under him as he pinched and pulled at your chest, the fleeting pain soothed by the lick of his tongue.

“you are so fucking hot,” ethan groaned into your abdomen, kissing farther and farther down.

he reached your skirt, looking up to you for permission to take it off which you granted by helping him take them off. he now knelt on the ground in front of you on the bed, legs spread in front of him bearing your clothed cunt. he placed your legs over his shoulders, resting his head between your thighs, breathing directly on your cunt.

“ethan p-please,” you whined, moving your hips, pushing your mound closer to him begging him to do something, anything.

he pressed his thumb on your slit, running it through your clothed folds. you could feel his breath on your cunt, laughing to himself as he teased you. he found your clit, massaging it under his finger feeling it enlarge. taking a deep breath you quickly lightly kicked ethan onto the floor before removing your panties yourself since he clearly had no plan to anytime soon.

“stop fucking around,” you cursed breathlessly now sitting up on the bed with your legs spread.

you took off your shirt and bra, tossing them somewhere onto the floor. ethan still lay on the floor looking up at your now fully naked body. he was basically salivating at the lips, moving closer to you as you started moving your hands towards your bundle of nerves. you reached your cunt, dipping your fingers in one swipe making you moan loudly at the sensitivity of your nerves. ethan approached again, kneeling between your legs heading straight for your cunt. he licked between your folds as you lay back on your arms watching him.

“oh my god,” you moaned.

“y-you’re so wet,” he whispered between your legs, delving back into your pussy.

he placed his entire mouth on your heat, flicking his tongue between your folds, collecting your fluids. he sucked on your clit strongly, gripping your hips, keeping you close to his face. you dropped on the bed unable to hold yourself up any longer. whining under his touch, you grinded your pussy on his face eager for more.

“ethan fuck i-i,” you stuttered as he attacked your clit, “so good.”

he groaned at your praise, sending vibrations through your body as his mouth was attached to your heat. you could feel the bundle of nerves become tighter in tighter in your core, close to unraveling.

“m’ so close pretty boy,” you moaned out with a string of profanities.

suddenly you felt his tongue enter inside of you, licking the inside of your walls and you nearly came right there. you gasped, the feeling shocking you as you moaned with pleasure.

“don’t- don’t stop,” you pleaded although it was clear ethan had no intention of doing that.

he gripped your hips tighter, pushing his tongue deeper into your cunt, fucking you with it. you squirmed in his hold, struggling to keep yourself composed as you rapidly approached your high. your legs trembled on his shoulders as you started to lose strength in your limbs. fucking you harder and faster with his tongue you lost all composure and came hard. you released all over his tongue and mouth as he rode you through your high, still attached to your sensitive heat. your legs trembled, falling limp as your body shook with your orgasm, ripping through every part of you.

“ethan,” you groaned weakly, “fucking hell.”

you pulled him off of your cunt by slightly tugging on his hair, the overstimulation getting to be too much. he crawled up to your position on the bed, kissing your forehead and all around your face with your juices lathered across his face.

“good?” he asked as if you weren’t violently cumming in that very mouth sixty seconds ago.

“really fucking good,” you answered quietly.

“can you do it again?” he whispered, reaching his fingers down to toy with your pussy.

“you-” you gasped as he ran his fingers through your overly sensitive folds, “m’not gonna be able to walk.”

“i’m strong, i’ll carry you.”

“you’re not gonna fucking ca-,” you spoke interrupt by two of his fingers stretching your cunt.

“cmon for me,” he whispered, “for your pretty boy.”

you couldn’t deny the pleasure, as you nodded for him to continue fucking you with his fingers. he started slow, curling them inside you while observing your face contort at the stimulation. he kissed you softly as he began to fuck into you faster, curling deeper and harder into your already sensitive cunt. you moaned into the kiss, now opened mouthed looking at his fingers move in and out of you. as your head rolled back from the familiar building pressure in your cunt ethan placed kisses along your neck, sucking marks into the skin and whispering sweet nothings into your ear,

“gonna cum in my pants,” he breathed into your ear, “y-you’re too much.”

his words spurred you on as you rolled your hips against his fingers chasing your second release of the night. for the final time ethan increased his pace, now ramming his finger deeply into your cunt. the sound was obscene as his fingers rapidly entered your cunt still filled with your previous release along with your new arousal. you whimpered under his touch,

“oh my, fuck fuck,” you yelled, approaching your high.

ethan kissed you as your second orgasm ripped through you. you pushed his hand out of you, unable to take the overstimulation again. he rubbed your legs as they twitched while you came. your breath was heavy, unable to take the orgasms you’d reached in the span of five minutes. you turned your head towards him, kissing him weakly with all the strength you had.

“only you, pretty boy,” you spoke breathlessly, “only fucking you.”

he helped you sit up as you needed to get dressed.

“i was nervous,” he told you as he fetched your clothes from all over the room, “never done that before.”

“be nervous more then cause you nearly fucking killed me.”

he looked worried before you clarified, “in a good way.”

“ohhh, kay good,” he smiled kissing all over your face before helping you dressed.

you put on your bra and top okay. but you let ethan put on your skirt and panties because of the current state of your legs. he kneeled on one knee, letting you hold his shoulders as you stepped into your panties and he pulled them up your legs, same with the skirt.

“ok, let’s go everyone is probably looking for us,” you said as you stepped forward but faltered.

he caught you by your hips, laughing at your inability to really walk on your own.

you lightly punched him in the shoulder, “this isn’t funny, you did this to me. what are we supposed to tell everyone?”

“i don’t know,” he shrugged still smiling.

“oh fuck you,” you scoffed turning around, “now help me out of here.”

ethan hurried to your side, opening the door and guiding the two of you out of the room.

[keepthatpump]

Neon Blue Crop Top

Make a statement in your workout with KeepThatPump's Neon Blue Crop Top. Elevate style and comfort. Shop now for a bold fitness fashion choice!

[bearyzdiary]

Hellooo 👋 I know you’re busy with other requests but I can’t help with this idea

With hyperpink girly reader (gender neutral Ofc or your choice) though they may seem mean to others but is really nice to Simon, very affectionate to him (covering his face with pink lip gloss marks) , and protective too. Chase Simon’s bullies away with their neon pink platform heels.

I’ve been obsessing with pink x emo dynamic

Take however long you want!! Thanks for reading this and I hope you’ll have a good day/night ✊

Bubblegum

Simon x reader

This diary entry contains…established relationship | Talk of poor mental health | mentions of bullying | reader is a icon | Simon is just Simon | just the two of you being cuties | slight obsessive behavior

Simon was a loser and you were the popular icon of the college you both went to.Your style was so pretty and colorful,Mostly pink but any color would fit you.

You met Simon on your first day when you needed help finding the girls restroom to re-do your lip combo.He instantly fell in love with you.

He soon enough made a big enough of move to get closer to you and you guys ended up getting close to each other to start dating blah blah blah!

Once you guys got close enough he confessed about how he was struggling with poor mental health and was a main target for bullying.

You never liked them.You use to be a target for bullying until you kinda just snapped and told them off.You were left alone after that and ever since then you been helping people who get bullied.

You sat on his bed as he cleaned up his floor.You had came over to listen to him vent and to help him with some English because he needed an idea of what to write.

“People are so shitty sometimes Simon,but you gotta ignore them and show them you don’t care! They’re just a bunch of self projecting losers”You say while fixing your digital camera.

Simon nodded before shrugging.He didn’t have the confidence like you did.You made yourself known while he kinda just stood on the side lines and supported you.”come here”you say gently as you place your camera on Simon’s windowsill.

Simon got up from his spot on the floor and made his way towards you.he sat next to you before staring into your eyes.You grab the sides of his stubble covered face and plant small kisses all over his face.

You had applied some cute pink lipgloss a couple of minutes earlier so you left sticky lipgloss kiss marks.You giggled at your work before grabbing your camera and snapping a quick photo of Simon.

He started down at your lap before smiling.”You’re so so so so soo handsome babe.Im kinda glad some girls don’t you like you because now I can have you all to myself!”You joke as you place a couple more kisses on his face.

Simon feels his face get red as he hides his face in his hands.Girls never were into him as much as your were.He had Sophie yeah but Sophie only saw him as a friend

You were different.unlike Sophie,you didn’t leave him but you stayed with him and comforted him.When Sophie rejected him and made up the excuse she had to go,You stayed with him the whole entire night listening to him vent.

Simon and Sophie are still I guess you could call them friends but he doesn’t talk with her anymore as much.He has you!When Simon does talk to Sophie he mostly talks about his life and how you made it much better.

People still don’t know how Simon was able to get with someone like you.You were a likeable,bubbly and a talkative person unlike Simon who was like the complete opposite,but they do say opposites attract.

You sometimes would even chase them off,it didn’t matter what type of shoes you were wearing you could run in 6 inch heels and still look flawless spewing out curses word at a bunch of losers who were picking on Simon.

Sometimes Simon would help with picking your outfits!he didn’t have much fashion sense when it came to himself but when he came to you,He knew exactly how to dress you.

“Ok Simon!I have this cute baby pink crop top or should I wear the baby blue one?”You ask while showing your boyfriend the two shirts.Simon did a quick scan off both shirts before looking at the skirt you had picked out.It was a black,pleated skirt with small rhinestones on the belt loops.

“I feel like you should wear the blue one.I think it would go good with the skirt your gonna wear”Simon said while going back to messing with his camera,

You nod as you toss the pink shirt back into the closet before smiling at Simon and thanking him for his help.Not only was he such a cutie but a big help when it came to styling you.

He was the only male you would trust picking out your outfits.Sometimes the two of you would match if you were able to convince him.it would take a couple minutes of begging but sooner or later you would make Simon have matching pink themed outfits!

Even if he found it absolutely ridiculous,As long as you were happy he was even more happy.

[bee-nutauthor]

Dimitrescu Sisters If they were Content Creators Headcanon (for fun)

Bela Dimitrescu

-The most wholesome, mom-esque content ever

-Will give you good life advice, whether it be shopping tips on how to get more groceries for less, or tips on how to manage your finances

-Makes cooking videos, sewing videos, make up videos, candle making videos, nail painting vidoes- basically anything to do with crafts and she's probably done it

-Speaks in a calm tone, has mellow music in the background

-Uses very calm colors in her videos, meaning her shirts are in cool tones of blues, grays, whites, and blacks.

-Her backdrop is a clean and organized space- a light wood bookshelf, plain walls, some minimalist flower vases, and a diffuser

-Is very organized with her schedule. Her videos are always up at the same time and day, and she follows a rotating schedule of what topics she will make videos for

-Controversies? None, unless you count the time she roasted a company who wanted her to do a paid promo for actually being toxic and causing them to shut down

-She is affectionately called 'Internet Mom'

-She does not understand the 'sorry, mommy' jokes and does not wish to

-Does not collab with other content creators, which lead to a conspiracy theory whether she actually existed in real life or was a robot

-Is sponsored mostly by clothing brands

Cassandra Dimitrescu

-She is a storytime channel, telling the most outlandish stories ever

-And they're all true. Her life is just like that

-She travels a lot for work so often she'll film travel vlogs or behind the scene vlogs

-Collabs all the time with other content creators

-Always has famous people on her channel

-Does Q and A's

-Her video uploading schedule is not super consistent due to her traveling a lot, and sometimes she'll post several videos in a row and then there will be nothing for a long time

-She has cycled through 5 public relationships within the first three months of her channel

-Has released music videos on her channel and is planning on releasing a full album. She always puts a lot of effort into her sets and costume design. Her singing is amazing as she's classically trained and can do opera too

-Has starred in other content creator's mini series on youtube and always draws the most views in

-Outfits are always changing depending on if she's traveling or making music videos

-Has made a few comedy skits here and there

-Controversies? There is a lot of drama circling around her and who she's hooking up with or who she'll go for next. A few people tried to call out her melodramatic behavior and instead of making an apology video Cassandra winked at the camera, sent the viewers a kiss and said "you know you love me like this," and ended the video like that.

-She was right. Her views only skyrocketed after this

-Gets many sponsorships, but donates the money from them to art or dance studios

Daniela Dimitrescu

-A streamer, she streams several hours a day in a row

-She does games mostly, with the occasional video filming her attempt to cook some horrific dish she found on the internet such as the toducken

-Has posted a few videos of herself doing tricks on her skateboard

-Has posted a few videos of her work out routines. Those have millions of views for reasons relating to her crop top and abs

-Has a set up with RGB lights in the back, and a mini fridge full of energy drinks

-Has the latest technology to play games on, but wears the same outfit almost always to her streams: a black tank top, a black hoodie with neon green writing on it, and a pair of headphones with cat ears on top

-Has dyed her hair many times but commonly sticks with her red hair, shaved on one side

-Has tattoos of her favorite video game characters on her arms and legs

-Will stream with other players and has done a handful of collabs but prefers playing single player games

-Rarely sleeps and has done several 24 hour streams for charity

-Controversies? She was accused of cheating when doing a speedrun but it was only the haters claiming she couldn't play

-Sponsored by raid shadow legends and other game companies

[somethingswift19]

Alt+Nerd= <3 Pope x (f) reader

| Warnings:

| Summary: The bubbly alt girl falls for Pope, the nerdy and serious guy.

| (a/n): I had a good reaction to the alt reader x obx so I wanted to continue that a little bit :) I'm so tired so if this is awful I apologize but I had fun writing it so that's really what counts right? Not proof read.

Leaning up against the lockers you watched as the whole pouge friend group walked past, sighing to yourself. Since freshman year you had had a thing for the smart one, Pope. He was so cute and serious and when he got all serious it made him even cuter and more adorable in your eyes. He was misunderstood and looked over a lot for John B and JJ. And even when he wasn't being looked over, he rarely noticed when girls hit on him. Green flags tbh.

But this brings you back to today...as you watched them all walk passed you knew you were probably not his type considering he was dating Kiara but a girl can dream. You had your black and blue hair straightened and pulled back into pigtails, neon green glasses, black cropped hoodie, skinny jeans, and orange nike airs on. "Hey! You ready for class?" your best friends voice snapped you out of your trance.

"Oh yeah, sorry," you shook your head and smiled before grabbing your bag and walking to AP biology. Tapping your pen on the desk, you day dreamed as the teacher went over the previous test. This was your favorite class but today you were just distracted. Before you knew it, the bell rang and you realized you hadn't taken a single note. Shit you thought. But that's when you had the idea... "Hey Pope!" you yelled after the boy as you ran to catch up to him.

"Uh...hi?" he looked at you confused. Honestly fair considering you have had probably two conversations with him in total. "What's up?"

"Oh, well...I kinda have a problem," you began. "Is there anyway you can go over the science notes from today with me? I didn't quite get all of it." Correction, I was staring at you like a total stalker for the entire class and wasn't paying any attention.

"Oh uh, yeah sure. Meet me at lunch and I'll give you my notes," Pope said as you nodded.

"Lucky I have the smartest guy in school in my class!" you responded cheerfully.

"Well technically Thomas Jennings is the number 1 in our class so he would be the smartest. I'm probably top five-" he rambled on before you cut him off.

"Pope," you stated. "Take the compliment and go with it. A cute girl is calling you smart."

As lunch rolled around, you met up with him and you copied down his notes from the day. "I like your glasses by the way." This snapped you out of you concentration.

"I'm sorry?" you asked not quite processing.

"Your glasses," he smiled. "They're cool. I like them."

"Oh," blushing hard core, you smiled. "Thank you!"

"Sorry if this is weird," he started, scratching the back of his neck. "You remind me of someone."

"Yeah? And who might that be?" you put your pen down and smiled. You were in the conversation now. Can't take this for granted.

"Abbey from NCIS," this time he came across as shy.

"Wait, no way! Thank you so much! I've always loved her and Penelope Garcia from Criminal Minds. I think that's where my style comes from. But Oh my God Thank you!" you knew you were rambling but fuck it. "Wait you watch NCIS?"

"Oh yeah, I love that show," Pope chuckled at your enthusiasm. "I always wanted to be like Duckie. I want to be a coroner."

"That's so dope," you smiled. "I want to go into forensics."

"That's not people's usual reaction to that," he stated.

You could stare into his eyes all day, good God, "Hey, we should meet up at the wreck after school. I mean if you want."

"Yeah! My friends and I were already planning on meeting up there later," he started. "You can come with us."

"Ok! I would love that!," this time it was your turn to chuckle. "Maybe after we can have some alone time? Just the two of us?"

"Wait...what?" the quizzical look he had on his face was adorable.

"Here," you said grabbing his arm and writing your number down. "I've been flirting with you for the past half hour for the record." You winked at him and started grabbing your things.

"I-I'll text you," he called after you and JJ looked over at him giving him a thumbs up. You knew he was watching you leave as you walked out of the cafeteria.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Time Skip After Shool~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as you got home, you got ready to meet up with the pouges and considering this was the first time, and you were hanging out with pope, you had to look decent. Deciding on ripped black skinny jeans and a blue halter top with David Bowie vans high tops, you threw your hair into a half up half down bun and put on some lashes. Your green glasses still adorning your face. Dabbing on some lip gloss, you took one final look at yourself in the mirror before heading out.

Pope's friends were really nice and very chill honestly! Kiara was standoffish at first but quickly warmed up. And you learned Sarah Cameron was nothing like you expected! "So Ms. (Y/n)," JJ exclaimed throwing his arm over your shoulder. "Pope has told us a lot about you." Pope was signaling for him to shut the fuck up but that's not what JJ does.

"Has he now?" you giggled looking over at him.

"I wouldn't say a alot..." Pope was trying to hide his face now.

"Really?" JJ began. "So she isn't the cool, colored hair girl who is the only person who is better in science than you?"

"And she isn't the sweet and talkative girl who reminds you of...what's that show again?" Kiara chimed in laughing and using hand motions.

"Ok, ok, leave him alone," John B very kindly said. "And the show is NCIS."

"That's right!" everyone exclaimed at once embarrassing him and making you laugh and look at him sweetly.

"So exactly how smart are you to be better at Pope in something?" Sarah asked putting a french fry in her mouth.

"Oh, um," you were blushing now from the attention. "I'm just freakishly good at science. He's still smarter than I am." He smiled and shook his head at you. After a couple hours the two of you snuck off, but not without whistles from the others. Walking down to the shoreline, having your feet touch the water as you looked at the shells and things washing up. "Thank you for inviting me to hang out with you and your friends."

"Oh, it's no problem," he stated. "Thanks for writing your number on my arm. JJ was proud." This caused you to chuckle a little bit.

"Earlier you said I wasn't what you expected," you said softly. "You aren't what I expected either."

This time his facial expression was nervous as he snapped his head to look at you, "In a good way or a bad way?"

Smiling widely up at him, "In the best way."

"(Y/n)?"

"Pope?"

"Do I have permission to kiss you?" he asked slightly awkwardly.

"Always," you responded sweetly. As your lips met, it was everything you had dreamed of. His hand came to rest on your face gently as he pulled you in closer causing you to throw your arms around his neck. The nerdy guy kissing the goth girl in the moonlight? How many cliches can you guys check off at once? But none the less, this was the perfect night.

[mallowbees]

The clockers :]

[ID: A colored marker drawing of Goodtimeswithscar, ZombieCleo, and Bdoublo100 from Limited Life. Scar is a pake skinned man with brown hair and scars on his left cheek with a nasal cannula. He is wearing orange tinted glasses, a teal button up with yellow and orange stripes, cuffed blue jeans, and brown shoes. He is sitting in a orange and black wheelchair. Cleo is a mint colored zombie with patched skin and long orange curly hair. They are wearing a pink sweatband, multicolor crop top, a dark pink leotard, purple arm warmers, neon green wrist bands, teal pantyhose, and yellow leg warmers. Bdubs is a light brown skinned man with white tipped hair and stubble. He is wearing a red bandana, torn up light blue shirt, a clock, ripped black jeans, and black sneakers. They are sitting next to each other grouped up talking. Scar has his eyes closed happily talking and gesturing with his left hand, Cleo is looking at Scar with her head tilted and arms crossed with a pleasant expression, Bdubs is looking at both of them smiling leaning his arm on a rock. End ID]

[hydraphrenic]

My last entry (and first drawing I did) for @drewtanakaweek 2024 with celebrity influencer Drew Tanaka having fun

Day Five: Celebrity, Domestic, Band AU

[ID. Drawing of Drew Tanaka from above. She's taking a selfie of herself. Sshe has neon pink sunglasses, orange crop top and blue denim shorts. End of ID.]