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solxamber · 2 months ago

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Pick Us!

In which you have to choose a club and it looks like everyone wants a piece of you.

Part 2 (Choosing a club)

You were minding your own business, dodging Grim's increasingly creative ways to get you to buy premium tuna, when Crowley swept in with his usual dramatic flair.

“Ah, my dear pupil!” he exclaimed, arms wide like a bad community theater actor. “To better immerse yourself in school life, you must join a club. It’s mandatory!”

Before you could protest or ask any clarifying questions, he disappeared in a swirl of his cape, leaving you standing there with nothing but Grim’s unsympathetic shrug.

Naturally, this information traveled faster than you could process it, because the next thing you knew, Ace was practically dragging you by the arm across campus.

The Basketball Club

“Alright, listen,” Ace began, spinning a basketball on one finger and grinning like he just invented the sport. “You’re obviously joining the basketball club. It’s the best. I’m here, Floyd’s here, and even Jamil’s here, so really, it’s a no-brainer.”

“Is that supposed to sell it?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“Uh, yeah!” he said, tossing the ball toward you. It immediately bounced off your hands and hit the floor. Ace, undeterred, caught it mid-bounce and gave you a wink. “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you. I’m, like, super good at this. Just ask him!”

From across the gym, some poor guy—bless his heart—tried to nod in support, but you caught the nervous look he shot Ace instead.

“Okay, sure,” you said, “but isn’t this just an excuse for you to show off?”

“Maybe,” Ace said with zero shame, dribbling the ball dramatically before attempting a layup. The ball bounced off the rim and into Floyd’s waiting hands.

“Shrimpy!” Floyd called, tossing the ball behind his head without looking (and still somehow making the shot). “Join the club. It’ll be fuuuuun.”

You hesitated, because with Floyd, “fun” could mean literally anything. “Define fun,” you said cautiously.

“Simple! You, me, and Ace crushing people in games!” Floyd grinned, leaning closer to you. “And if anyone tries to mess with you, I’ll squish ‘em.”

Ace groaned. “Floyd, you can’t just threaten people into joining.”

“Why not?” Floyd asked, genuinely puzzled.

“Because it’s weird!”

“No, it’s effective,” Floyd countered, shooting you another toothy grin. “C’mon, Shrimpy, you’re already here. I’ll even let you call the plays. Or, you know, not. Whatever.”

“...You’re just bored, aren’t you?”

“Obviously,” Floyd admitted, leaning lazily against the wall. “But hey, if you join, I won’t let Ace hog the ball. Win-win, right?”

And then there was Jamil, who had been sitting silently on the sidelines, observing the chaos with his usual exasperated expression.

“Are they done?” he asked, finally standing and walking over to you.

“I don’t think so,” you replied, watching as Floyd tried to steal the ball from Ace mid-dribble.

Jamil sighed. “Typical.” He glanced at you, his tone cool and measured. “Ignore them. They’re just trying to drag you into their antics.”

“Antics?” Floyd repeated, offended.

“Yeah, Jamil,” Ace added, narrowing his eyes. “What’re you implying?”

“I’m implying you’re both terrible at convincing people,” Jamil said smoothly. He turned back to you. “If you’re interested in joining the club, you’ll actually get something out of it. Physical exercise, teamwork, strategy. And if you stick around, I’ll make sure you’re not stuck with them during practice.”

“Hey!” Ace protested.

Floyd just laughed. “Jamil’s still salty about the last scrimmage.”

“Hardly,” Jamil said, arching an eyebrow. “I’m just pointing out that if you want to learn how to actually play, you’d be better off with me.”

You blinked. “Are you… offering to train me?”

He shrugged, but there was a faint smirk on his face. “If it means saving you from their nonsense, yes.”

All you can do is sigh and say "I'll think about it"

Track and Field Club

You barely made it out of the basketball club’s gym alive when Deuce grabbed your wrist like his life depended on it. His expression was that unique combination of earnest and panicked—classic Deuce.

“Wait, don’t decide yet!” he said, already dragging you down the corridor. “You haven’t even seen the track and field club! You might like it better!”

“Deuce,” you began, trying to keep up without tripping. “I haven’t even—”

“Just come on!”

Before you knew it, you were standing on the edge of the outdoor track, blinking in the sunlight as Deuce shoved you forward like he was presenting a prize to a panel of judges. Jack, in the middle of sprint drills, stopped mid-stride to look over at you. His tail flicked once, and he jogged over with that intimidating mix of focus and curiosity he always had.

“You’re trying to recruit them?” Jack asked, crossing his arms.

Deuce nodded, puffing out his chest like he was making the ultimate sales pitch. “Yeah! Track and field’s way better than basketball. No offense to those guys.”

“I take offense,” you muttered, but neither of them heard.

“Plus,” Deuce continued, “we’ve got variety. Running, jumping, throwing—you can do anything. It’s not just bouncing a ball around, you know?”

Jack nodded in agreement. “It’s good for discipline. Builds strength, endurance, and focus. If you want to improve yourself, this is the place to do it.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, glancing at the track. “And what if I… don’t exactly have focus?”

“That’s fine!” Deuce said, grinning brightly. “We’ll help you! Right, Jack?”

Jack nodded. “Of course. We’ll start with basic drills.” He gave you a once-over, sizing you up. “How’s your stamina?”

“Define… stamina,” you said cautiously, because you had a feeling your answer wasn’t going to impress him.

Jack’s ears twitched, and he leaned slightly closer. “How far can you run without stopping?”

“Uh,” you began, nervously shifting your weight. “To the fridge?”

Jack blinked. “...You’re joking, right?”

Deuce coughed loudly, clapping a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about that! Everyone starts somewhere, right? Besides, they’re here because they want to try something new.”

You stared at Deuce. “I don’t remember saying that.”

“Exactly!” he continued, ignoring you entirely. “Think of how awesome it’d be to have us training you! We’ll get you in the best shape of your life. Right, Jack?”

Jack, who was still mildly horrified by your fridge comment, hesitated. “...Sure.”

Deuce, now fully in salesman mode, gestured to the track like it was some sort of holy land. “And you don’t have to worry about teamwork stuff! You can focus on your personal goals and—”

“Unless you’re in a relay,” Jack interjected.

“Right, but relays are cool!” Deuce added quickly. “Like… team spirit, you know?”

You glanced between the two of them, taking in Jack’s intensity and Deuce’s enthusiasm. They were both staring at you with a mix of hope and determination, and honestly, it was kind of endearing.

“Okay,” you said slowly. “If I join, do I get to skip the first practice?”

“No,” Jack said immediately.

Deuce grinned sheepishly. “But we’ll go easy on you!”

“Jack doesn’t look like he believes that.”

Jack tilted his head, his tail swishing once. “You’ll thank me later.”

“I’m not sure I’ll survive later,” you muttered.

Deuce ignored that, clapping his hands together. “Great! I knew you’d love it here! C’mon, let’s give them a quick demo, Jack!”

Before you could protest, the two of them took off around the track, moving at speeds that made you feel dizzy just watching. Deuce kept glancing back to grin at you, while Jack stayed focused, every stride perfect.

You stood there, bewildered and vaguely impressed, wondering if joining any club was a good idea at all. Still, as Deuce stumbled back toward you, sweaty but grinning like a puppy who just fetched a stick, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Think about it, okay?” he said, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. “We’d love to have you here.”

Jack jogged up beside him, barely winded. “You’ll fit in if you put in the effort.”

“Yeah,” Deuce agreed, nodding earnestly. “So… what do you think?”

You hesitated, glancing at the track, then at them. “…I’ll get back to you.”

Deuce grinned like that was a victory, and Jack just nodded approvingly. As they walked back to their drills, you realized you had yet another club to consider—and these two weren’t going to make it any easier.

Board Game Club

Before you could make your escape—or even fully process the events of the day—your wrist was suddenly seized by Ortho, who zoomed in out of nowhere like a missile with a purpose.

“There you are!” Ortho exclaimed with unsettling cheer. His grip was surprisingly firm for someone who probably didn’t even need to touch you to move you. “Big Brother’s been waiting! Come on!”

“Wait—what? Ortho, where are we—”

“No time for questions!” And just like that, he lifted you into the air like you were a deranged package and he was some kind of express courier. You barely had time to flail before he rocketed off, delivering you with precision to the board game club's headquarters.

You landed with an unceremonious thud, right in front of Idia, who nearly fell out of his chair.

“Ortho!” Idia hissed, his flaming hair flaring. “You can’t just abduct people like that!”

“But you said you wanted them to join!” Ortho chirped. “Mission accomplished!”

Azul, seated calmly at the head of the table, adjusted his glasses and smirked. “Well, well. A delivery service—how efficient. Welcome to the board game club.”

You were still processing the fact that you’d been airmailed when Idia slouched lower in his seat, muttering, “Ugh, so embarrassing. Ortho, seriously…”

“Uh,” you began, brushing yourself off. “Hi?”

Azul gestured grandly to the table in front of him, where an array of meticulously organized board games was displayed like they were ancient treasures. “Here, we focus on strategy, intellect, and the fine art of outwitting your opponent. Unlike other clubs,” he said with a pointed glance at the door, “this one doesn’t require you to break a sweat.”

“That’s actually kind of appealing,” you admitted, still wary.

Idia perked up slightly, his hair flickering a little brighter. “See? I told you it’s cool. I mean, if you like, uh, not running around like some NPC.”

Ortho leaned over, nodding enthusiastically. “And Big Brother’s really good at this stuff! He’s undefeated in our club tournaments!”

“That’s because you’re the only other member who’s not a liability!” Idia blurted, before realizing what he’d just said. “Uh—I mean—you’d totally, like, be an asset. Probably.”

Azul cleared his throat, clearly annoyed at being excluded from the compliment. “Allow me to demonstrate. Why don’t we have a quick match? You against Idia.”

“What?” Idia sat up straight, his hair sparking nervously. “No way! That’s not fair—I can’t just—”

Azul gave him a smile sharp enough to cut glass. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of losing, Idia.”

Idia’s face turned pink. “Fine,” he grumbled, setting up the board. “But don’t blame me if I crush them.”

You sat down reluctantly, realizing too late that this was probably a trap. Idia’s fingers moved at lightning speed as he set up his pieces, muttering calculations under his breath. Ortho leaned over your shoulder, giving you completely useless advice like, “Just believe in yourself!”

To your surprise, you managed to hold your own for the first few turns. Idia glanced up at you, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he were reevaluating your existence.

“Huh,” he murmured. “Not bad. For a newbie.”

“Is that a compliment?” you asked, moving your piece cautiously.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” he said quickly, his face turning red again.

Azul chuckled from his spot at the table. “See? A game of wits and strategy. Isn’t this far superior to running laps or throwing balls into hoops?”

“Hey!” you said, pointing your game piece at him. “Don’t diss the other clubs. They’re passionate too!”

Azul raised an eyebrow. “Passion doesn’t win battles. Strategy does.”

The game dragged on, and by the end of it, you were completely out of your depth. Idia, on the other hand, looked like he’d just stepped out of an anime boss fight, his hair flaring dramatically as he made his final move.

“Checkmate,” he said, grinning slightly.

“Wrong game, Big Brother,” Ortho corrected.

“Whatever!” Idia snapped, but he didn’t look too upset. “It’s over, okay?”

Azul leaned forward, smirking again. “So, what do you think? Ready to join?”

You leaned back in your chair, your brain fried from trying to keep up. “I… I need to think about it.”

Ortho beamed. “That means they’re considering it! Success!”

Idia muttered something under his breath about “too much pressure” and “why is this so stressful,” but you caught a tiny flicker of a smile as he fiddled with one of the game pieces.

Azul, ever the businessman, handed you a brochure as you left. “Take your time. But remember—intellect always wins.”

You left the board game club feeling like you’d just survived a high-stakes negotiation. And as Ortho cheerfully waved goodbye, you couldn’t help but wonder if all the clubs were this intense.

Film Studies Club

You were rounding a corner, still recovering from your latest club recruitment ambush, when a perfectly manicured hand shot out and grabbed your wrist.

Before you could even yelp, you found yourself being gracefully pulled into the Film Studies Clubroom by none other than Vil Schoenheit. His strides were purposeful, his posture impeccable, and his expression…well, let’s just say it was the definition of I’m doing you a favor, peasant.

“Vil?” you sputtered, barely managing to keep up. “What are you—”

“I need to vet you,” Vil said simply, his voice calm but leaving no room for argument. “The Film Studies Club could use some fresh blood, and you look… adequate.”

“Adequate?” you echoed, mildly offended but too intrigued to argue further.

He led you to the center of the room, gesturing for you to stand under a perfectly angled spotlight. “Don’t misunderstand,” Vil continued, crossing his arms and regarding you with a critical eye. “I’m merely evaluating your potential. Our club requires both talent and diligence—qualities that, if I’m being honest, are rare in this school.”

“Uh, thanks?”

Vil ignored you, pulling out a script and flipping through it like he was deciding your fate. “If you can’t pass the audition, you can still join as a backstage hand,” he said airily. “We’re short on those too.”

“Wow, what an inspiring pitch,” you muttered, but Vil’s sharp gaze silenced you immediately.

“Read this,” he instructed, handing you the script and gesturing for you to begin.

You hesitated, glancing at the lines. “You’re serious? Right now?”

“Do I look like someone who jokes about art?” Vil asked, raising a perfectly sculpted brow.

Point taken.

Clearing your throat, you started reading, trying to put some effort into it. Vil watched you intently, his expression inscrutable. He occasionally tilted his head, as if mentally dissecting every word you spoke, every movement you made.

When you finished, you looked at him expectantly, waiting for his verdict.

Vil tapped his chin, his eyes narrowing. “You’re not hopeless,” he said finally, in a tone that made it sound like a compliment. “Rough around the edges, yes, but I’ve seen worse.”

“Gee, thanks,” you said dryly.

“Don’t be smug. You’ll need work,” Vil continued, ignoring your tone. “But I suppose you have potential.”

“And if I didn’t?”

Vil gave a delicate shrug, his expression cool. “Then you’d still be useful behind the scenes. But consider this your opportunity to elevate yourself. Being part of my club means striving for excellence—no exceptions.”

You couldn’t help but smirk. “Is this really about me, or are you just desperate for members?”

Vil’s eyes narrowed, but there was a flicker of amusement there. “Desperation has nothing to do with it. I’m simply ensuring that my club remains unparalleled. If you happen to benefit from my guidance, so be it.”

“Well, when you put it that way, how can I refuse? I'll think about it.”

Vil’s lips curved into the faintest of smiles. “Smart choice. Now, don’t make me regret it.”

With that, he turned on his heel, leaving you standing there wondering what exactly you’d just signed up for—and if Vil’s idea of “elevating yourself” involved a complete personality overhaul.

Science Club

You barely had time to process Vil's dramatic exit when a familiar voice whispered theatrically, “Ah, my muse! Fate conspires to bring us together!”

Before you could react, Rook Hunt appeared—swooped, really—out of nowhere and expertly whisked you away from the Film Studies Clubroom. It was less like being led and more like being caught mid-flight by an overly enthusiastic bird of prey.

“Rook?!” you yelped as he practically danced you down the hallway. “What is happening?”

“Mon ami,” he declared, his eyes glittering with fervor, “you must see the science club! A world of wonder awaits you!”

“Wait—science?” you echoed, incredulous. “You’re in the science club?”

“Ah, oui! Science is but another stage upon which the beauty of nature and humanity performs its eternal dance! The experiments! The cultivation of life! The creation of culinary masterpieces! All expressions of art, no?”

You weren’t sure if he was describing scientific principles or poetry, but before you could argue, Rook had dragged you into the science clubroom.

The room was a chaotic mix of activities. One corner housed a vibrant garden under grow lights, another had chemistry equipment bubbling away ominously, and a third corner smelled suspiciously like freshly baked bread. Trey Clover stood near a counter, pulling cookies out of an oven as if this were the most normal thing to happen in a science lab.

“Ah, there you are,” Trey greeted, smiling warmly. “Rook said he’d bring someone by. I’m guessing you’re deciding on a club?”

You glanced between Rook, who was already gesturing dramatically at a rack of test tubes, and Trey, who held up a tray of cookies like a peace offering. “I… guess I am?”

“Bien sûr!” Rook exclaimed, sweeping an arm toward the greenery in the corner. “Behold! We grow life itself here! Tomatoes, basil, flowers—anything your heart desires!”

Trey added, “We also bake and cook as part of our activities. It’s a great way to learn about chemistry and make something useful at the same time.”

“And explosions!” Rook chimed in enthusiastically. “Occasionally, there are explosions.”

Trey shot him a look. “Not… intentionally.”

Rook turned back to you, his expression radiant. “Think of the possibilities, mon ami! With science, you can cultivate beauty, create masterpieces, and perhaps even unlock secrets of the universe! And, of course, I am here to guide you—to nurture the artistic soul that dwells within!”

“Also,” Trey added, far more pragmatically, “we’re not picky about what activities you want to try. It’s a flexible club, so you could do a little bit of everything.”

You considered this as Trey handed you a cookie. It was warm and delicious, which admittedly swayed your opinion a little.

“Hmm,” you said thoughtfully, “so I could garden, bake, and blow things up all in one club?”

“Exactly!” Trey said with a smile.

Rook leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a stage whisper. “And think, mon cher—if you hone your talents here, you could support Vil in creating the cinematic beauty he so envisions! Science and art, united in harmony!”

You blinked. “Wait, are you trying to recruit me for this club and help Vil at the same time?”

Rook grinned. “Nature does not limit itself to one purpose, mon ami, and neither do I.”

Trey sighed but didn’t deny it.

“Well, this is definitely… something,” you said, nibbling on the cookie. “I’ll think about it.”

“Ah, a maybe!” Rook clasped his hands together like you’d just promised him your soul. “A victory in itself!”

Before you could say anything else, Rook twirled you toward the door, clearly ready to drag you to your next destination—or possibly just keep talking about “the poetry of chlorophyll” until you gave in.

Pop Music Club

Just as you were beginning to suspect Rook was about to wax poetic about “the lyrical mysteries of yeast fermentation,” a sudden voice interrupted.

“Oh-ho, what’s this?”

Before you could even react, Lilia Vanrouge materialized out of thin air, practically glowing with chaotic energy. “Ah, my dear friend! You’re far too bright a star to waste away on science experiments! Come with me—pop stardom awaits!”

You blinked. “Wait, what?”

And just like that, you were swept up in Lilia’s whirlwind. He dragged you down the hallway with a skip in his step and a mischievous laugh, leaving Rook and Trey in his dust.

“Lilia, I can walk, you know!” you said, stumbling to keep up.

“But where’s the drama in that?” Lilia replied, cackling as he pushed open the doors to the Pop Music Clubroom.

Inside, the room was a cacophony of sound and color. Disco lights spun, a half-finished banner reading ‘Next Big Thing!’ hung lopsidedly on the wall, and Kalim was gleefully banging away on a drum like it owed him money. Cater sat cross-legged on the floor, scrolling through his phone and periodically snapping selfies with sparkly filters.

“Oh, hey!” Kalim greeted you, waving so enthusiastically he almost hit himself with the drum stick. “You’re here to join us, right? This club is the best! We have music, dancing, and it’s all just super fun!”

Cater glanced up from his phone, his grin wide and just a little too calculated. “You’d fit right in! Think of all the magicam-worthy moments we could create together. Plus, the followers you’d get? Off the charts.”

“Followers?” you echoed, glancing at Lilia.

“Ah, but of course!” Lilia said, flinging his arms wide as if presenting you to an adoring crowd. “The Pop Music Club isn’t just about music—it’s about presence! Charisma! The ability to captivate a room with a single note or a dazzling smile!”

“It’s also about having a good time!” Kalim added, spinning in a circle for no reason other than sheer joy.

Cater nodded, holding up his phone. “And don’t forget—every moment is a potential viral video. You, me, Lilia, and Kalim as the dream team? We’d own the algorithm.”

You hesitated. “Uh, I don’t even play an instrument.”

“Neither does he!” Lilia said brightly, pointing at some unfortunate bystander.

“Hey!” he protested. “I play the Kalimba!” He promptly tried to play a note, missed the rhythm entirely, and Lilia laughed like it was the funniest thing ever.

“See?” Lilia said, unfazed. “Talent is optional here. All we need is your spirit!”

Cater stood, brushing imaginary dust off his pants. “We also dabble in choreography, so if you’ve got two left feet, don’t worry—we’ll teach you how to make them look intentional.”

“Come on, join us!” Kalim said, grabbing your hands and bouncing up and down like an overexcited puppy. “We could totally use your energy!”

“What energy?” you asked, deadpan. “I’ve been dragged between clubs all day—I barely have any left.”

“Exactly!” Lilia said with a wink. “We’ll channel what’s left into a glorious crescendo of pop music excellence!”

You weren’t sure whether to laugh, cry, or just surrender entirely to the chaos. Lilia’s grin was practically infectious, Kalim’s enthusiasm radiated like the sun, and Cater was already adjusting the angle of his phone to catch you in the best light.

“Well,” you muttered, “at least it sounds… lively.”

“Lively is an understatement,” Cater said, snapping a selfie with you and Lilia in the background. “Hashtag PopStarsInTheMaking! You’re gonna love it here.”

“Let me guess,” you said dryly. “You’re already planning to upload that, aren’t you?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Cater said with a wink.

Lilia clapped his hands, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “So, what do you say? Ready to unleash your inner star?”

“I… will think about it,” you replied, edging toward the door.

“Think fast!” Kalim called after you. “The bass is calling your name!”

You bolted before anyone could shove an instrument into your hands.

Equestrian Club

As you hurried down the hallway, still reeling from the pop music chaos you'd just escaped, you nearly collided with a flash of red.

"Ah, there you are!"

You blinked up at none other than Riddle Rosehearts, who looked as though he'd been scouring the entire school for you. His eyes narrowed, and his voice carried a tone of stern authority mixed with subtle relief.

"I've been looking for you," Riddle said, crossing his arms. "Ace and Deuce mentioned that you’re considering which club to join. As housewarden, it’s my responsibility to ensure you make a proper choice."

You blinked, still processing. "Oh, uh… thanks?"

"Enough dilly-dallying," Riddle said briskly, taking your wrist with surprising firmness. "You're coming with me to the Equestrian Club."

"Wait, what—"

Before you could finish, Riddle had already begun marching you toward the stables. You were half-dragged, half-guided, catching snippets of his lecture along the way about the merits of horseback riding, discipline, and poise.

When you arrived, the warm scent of hay filled the air, and the sound of soft nickering greeted you. The stables were pristine, the horses sleek and well-groomed. Standing nearby were Silver and Sebek, both tending to the horses.

"Riddle, you found them" Silver greeted you with his usual calm demeanor. He gave you a faint smile as he gently brushed a dappled gray mare. "Perfect timing—we were just about to go for a ride."

Sebek, on the other hand, straightened like a soldier at attention, his voice booming. "THEY WILL JOIN US, OF COURSE! IT IS ONLY FITTING FOR AN INDIVIDUAL OF WORTH TO EMBRACE SUCH A NOBLE ART!"

"Sebek, indoor voice," Riddle said sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I AM OUTDOORS!" Sebek retorted, though he did lower his volume slightly.

You glanced nervously at the horses. "Uh, I don’t know if I’m… horse material."

"Nonsense," Riddle said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Riding teaches discipline, focus, and responsibility. It’s the perfect club for fostering growth—and for avoiding unnecessary distractions like some less dignified clubs."

"Pop Music Club?" you guessed.

Riddle sniffed, his expression sour. "Among others."

Silver walked over, still holding the brush, and gave you a reassuring nod. "Don’t worry. The horses are gentle, and we can teach you everything. It’s a peaceful activity once you get used to it."

"Peaceful!" Sebek exclaimed, throwing his arms wide. "It is a pursuit befitting the greatest warriors! EVEN LORD MALLEUS—"

"Sebek," Riddle interrupted, his patience clearly wearing thin. "Focus on the matter at hand."

"Apologies!" Sebek barked, saluting.

Riddle turned back to you, his expression softening just a fraction. "The Equestrian Club isn’t just about riding horses. It’s about elegance, partnership, and understanding. You could benefit greatly from it."

"And the horses are great listeners," Silver added.

"Unlike some humans," Sebek muttered under his breath.

You bit back a laugh as Riddle gave Sebek another glare.

"What do you say?" Riddle asked, stepping aside to let you see one of the horses—a chestnut with a kind, inquisitive gaze. "This is Vorpal. Perhaps a ride would convince you?"

The horse whinnied softly, and for a moment, you considered it. There was something appealing about the tranquility of the stables, the camaraderie of the club members, and the undeniable charm of working with such majestic creatures.

But then you remembered the drum chaos, the science experiments, and Vil’s dramatic vetting process.

"Let me, uh… think about it?" you said, taking a step back.

Riddle sighed, though he looked more exasperated than disappointed. "Very well. But don’t wait too long—indecision is unbecoming."

"Yeah," you mumbled. "Got it."

As you made your escape, you could hear Sebek booming, "RIDING A HORSE WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE!"

You weren’t sure about that, but you were certain that escaping club recruitment was starting to feel like an Olympic sport.

Magift Club

As you staggered away from the stables, thoroughly frazzled by Sebek’s enthusiastic yelling and Riddle’s intense lecture on discipline, you barely had time to catch your breath before—

“Yo, gotcha!”

A pair of hands grabbed your shoulders from behind, and you let out a very undignified yelp. You turned to find Ruggie grinning up at you like a mischievous hyena that had just found its next meal.

“Ruggie! What—?”

“No time for questions, boss,” he said, practically dragging you down the path. “Leona’s orders. He told me to bring ya to the Magift Club.”

“The Magift Club?” you repeated, already sensing disaster.

Ruggie nodded, smirking. “Yup. Let’s go, let’s go!”

“But—wait—I don’t even have magic!” you protested as he hauled you toward the field.

“Details, details,” Ruggie waved off, his grip on your arm firm.

Soon enough, you were dumped unceremoniously on the sidelines of the Magift field. Leona was lounging on the grass under the shade of a tree, looking entirely too comfortable for someone allegedly trying to recruit you. Epel was nearby, aggressively practicing his throws while muttering something that sounded suspiciously like “I’ll show ‘em.”

Leona cracked one eye open lazily as Ruggie dropped you off. “’Bout time,” he drawled.

“Leona,” you said flatly, “why would you want me in the Magift Club? I don't even have magic.”

He yawned, looking entirely unbothered. “Yeah, I know that. You’re still better than the other herbivores running around. You can be the manager.”

“Manager?”

“Yup,” Ruggie chimed in, plopping down next to Leona. “You’d handle all the boring stuff—paperwork, schedules, snacks, makin’ sure Epel doesn’t throw a fit when he gets tackled.”

“I don’t throw fits!” Epel yelled, narrowly missing a hoop with his throw.

Leona smirked. “Sure you don’t.”

You crossed your arms, unconvinced. “Why me, though? You’re telling me I’m the best candidate for this?”

Leona sat up slightly, his sharp eyes locking on yours. “I’m sayin’ you’re the least annoying option. I don’t need some herbivore manager who’s gonna cry every time I take a nap instead of practicing. You’re not useless, so quit whining.”

Ruggie leaned in conspiratorially. “Basically, you’re the only one Leona doesn’t feel like chasing off the field after two days.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like a ringing endorsement.”

Leona shrugged. “Take it or leave it. Makes no difference to me.”

At that moment, Epel ran up, panting slightly from his practice. “C’mon, you should join us!” he urged. “You don’t need magic to be part of the team. And if you ever wanna learn some tricks, I can teach ya!”

Leona gave him a lazy side-eye. “Don’t scare them off.”

“I’m not scarin’ ‘em! I’m convincin’ ‘em!” Epel shot back, glaring at Leona before turning back to you. “Seriously, we could use someone like you. The club’s fun, I promise!”

Ruggie snickered. “Fun’s a stretch. It’s more like… survival of the fittest with a ball involved.”

“And napping,” Leona added with a smirk.

Epel crossed his arms. “Well, maybe if someone practiced instead of nappin’, we’d win more games!”

Leona waved him off with a scoff.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “I don’t know, guys. This sounds like a lot of chaos.”

“Chaos is half the fun,” Ruggie said with a grin. “C’mon, boss, think of all the free food we get during games. And you’d get to boss Leona around as the manager. Ain’t that worth it?”

Leona snorted. “Good luck with that.”

You glanced at the trio—Epel brimming with determination, Ruggie radiating mischief, and Leona looking like he didn’t care but also somehow cared just enough to try. It was… weirdly tempting, in its own way.

“I’ll… think about it,” you said finally.

“Fair enough,” Leona said, already reclining again. “Don’t take too long, though. We’ve got a game next week, and I’m not filling out paperwork.”

Ruggie winked. “Don’t worry, you’ll come around. Everyone does.”

As you left the field, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d just been almost recruited into something much more taxing than a simple club.

Mountain Lovers Club

Before you could escape the Magift field and all its potential paperwork, you took a sharp turn—only to smack right into what felt like a wall of polite menace. A soft, knowing chuckle sounded above you.

“Oh dear, do be careful,” came Jade Leech’s unmistakably smooth voice.

You took a step back, already dreading the conversation. “Jade,” you said warily, “what are you doing here?”

His sharp smile grew ever so slightly. “Waiting for you, of course. Word travels fast, and I’ve heard you’re in the market for a club.”

“Oh no,” you muttered. “You’re not here to—”

Before you could finish, he was already guiding you away, his hand light on your arm but unyielding, like a vice hidden under a silk glove.

“Come now,” he said, his tone as polite as ever, “I simply must show you the Mountain Lovers Club.”

“The what now?” you asked, bewildered.

“The Mountain Lovers Club,” he repeated, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“And… who else is in this club?”

“Why, just me.”

You stopped in your tracks. “It’s just you?”

“Yes.” Jade smiled serenely, as if this were not a glaring red flag. “I am the founder, leader, and sole member. But with your arrival, that could very well change.”

You blinked at him, unsure if you’d misheard. “Wait, so you’ve been running a one-person club this whole time?”

“Indeed.” His expression didn’t falter in the slightest. “The Mountain Lovers Club is dedicated to the appreciation of all things mountainous. Hiking through beautiful terrain, foraging for wild plants, observing unique ecosystems, and—on occasion—befriending the local fauna.”

“Befriending?”

“Examining, petting, observing closely…” His eyes gleamed. “Perhaps all three.”

You shook your head, trying to process. “So… why me?”

Jade clasped his hands together, the picture of poised enthusiasm. “You strike me as someone who appreciates unique experiences. The Mountain Lovers Club offers a chance to explore the great outdoors, expand your horizons, and develop a deeper appreciation for nature’s wonders.”

“And by ‘great outdoors,’ you mean mountains?”

“Precisely.”

“And it’s just you?”

“For now,” he said, his tone warm but his gaze uncomfortably intense. “But every great journey begins with a single step. Yours could be joining this club.”

You gave a nervous laugh. “Uh… I don’t think hiking through mountains is really my thing.”

“Ah, but how do you know unless you try?” Jade’s smile widened. “Besides, I’ll be there to guide you every step of the way. No need to worry about getting lost… or encountering anything unexpected.”

The way he said “unexpected” made you want to run for the hills (ironic, given the circumstances).

“Look, I appreciate the offer, but—”

“I insist,” he cut in smoothly, his tone polite but with a note of finality. “At least allow me to show you the club’s activities. Perhaps a short hike this weekend? I’ve already prepared a route.”

You stared at him. “You’ve already…?”

“Of course.” His gaze was calm, calculating. “Preparation is key. I’ve even packed a lunch.”

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Jade, I—”

He tilted his head, his smile remaining perfectly composed. “Surely you wouldn’t refuse without at least giving it a chance? I’ve put so much thought into this.”

“Why do I feel like I don’t have a choice?” you muttered.

Jade’s smile was razor-sharp and utterly unrepentant. “Because you don’t.”

You sighed in defeat. “Fine. One hike.”

“Excellent,” he said, his tone soft and victorious. “I’ll see you this Saturday at dawn.”

“Dawn?!”

“Oh yes,” he said, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. “The mountains are at their most beautiful in the early morning light. You’ll love it.”

As he sauntered away, leaving you to process your fate, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d just agreed to something far more treacherous than a simple hike.

Gargoyle Research Society

The moment you finally reached Ramshackle Dorm, exhausted from the whirlwind of club-hopping and increasingly bizarre sales pitches, you let out a long sigh of relief. The day had been nothing short of chaotic, and all you wanted was to collapse onto your creaky old bed and forget the words “club activities” ever existed.

But just as your hand touched the doorknob, a familiar voice, deep and regal, called out from the shadows.

“Child of man.”

You jumped slightly, spinning around to see none other than Malleus Draconia emerging from beneath the pale light of the moon, his presence as imposing and enigmatic as always. He stood by one of Ramshackle’s crumbling stone walls, his expression calm but his eyes bright with an unreadable intensity.

“Oh, Malleus,” you said, your voice tinged with weariness but also a touch of warmth. “Didn’t see you there.”

He tilted his head ever so slightly, his gaze never leaving yours. “I was merely admiring the architecture of your dorm. It has a certain… wistful charm.”

You smiled faintly. “I guess that’s one way to put it.”

Then, with the sort of graceful confidence only Malleus could manage, he stepped closer, his presence looming but never threatening. “I have heard,” he began, his tone soft and deliberate, “that you have been seeking a club to join.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard. “How did you—”

“The winds carry whispers,” he said cryptically.

“Right,” you muttered, deciding not to question it.

Malleus folded his hands neatly in front of him, looking every bit the picture of regal sincerity. “If you have not yet made your decision… I would like to invite you to join my club.”

Your brain, still reeling from Jade’s mountain escapades and Leona’s managerial demands, stalled for a moment. “Your… club?”

“Yes,” he said, his voice brimming with quiet pride. “The Gargoyle Research Society.”

“The… what now?”

“The Gargoyle Research Society,” he repeated, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “I am both its founder and sole member.”

Of course, he was.

Malleus seemed oblivious to your stunned silence as he continued, his expression softening into something almost earnest. “The society is dedicated to the appreciation and study of gargoyles. We explore the campus, observing their intricate designs and marveling at their history. There is so much beauty in their silent watch over us.”

You blinked. “So… you just walk around and look at gargoyles?”

“Precisely,” he said, his tone unironically enthusiastic.

“And… that’s it?”

Malleus nodded solemnly. “Indeed. It is a noble pursuit, one that nurtures both the mind and the spirit.”

For a moment, you were at a loss for words. Of all the clubs you’d encountered today, this might just take the crown for most niche.

Malleus, however, seemed utterly earnest. His eyes bore into yours, his expression sincere and unguarded. “I understand if this does not align with your current interests,” he said, his voice softening. “But should you ever feel the call of the gargoyles… know that you are always welcome.”

There was something so genuine in his tone, so quietly hopeful, that you felt a pang of guilt for even thinking about brushing him off. You sighed, offering him a tired but sincere smile. “You know what? I’ll definitely consider it.”

Malleus’s eyes lit up, his calm demeanor giving way to a flicker of pure joy. “Truly?”

“Truly,” you said, nodding.

“Then I shall look forward to the day you join me,” he said, his voice as soft as a promise.

With that, he gave you a small, graceful bow before disappearing back into the night, leaving you to wonder how you’d managed to end the day not only agreeing to a potential club but also feeling oddly flattered by the idea of studying gargoyles.

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “What a day…”

Masterlist

Part 2: Choosing a club

a/n: it completely slipped my mind that ortho is in film studies sorry :(

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allfillernothriller · 11 months ago

Text

« FUCKING CROISSANT »

Jamie T, The Theory of Whatever tour, London, Ally Pally, 18/11/2022.

#jamie t #brand new bass guitar #fucking croissant #FRONT ROW FRONT ROW FRONT ROW #I made the trip back and forth in less than 48hrs spending literally only one night in london #and spent most of the concert crushed against the barrier #but it was all worth it for this man #bus on the way to + eurostar on the way back + night at a youth hostel + walking whenever possible = not so expensive #for london standards #also my definition of tourism: exclusively visiting places referenced in his songs for better immersion #I can't wait to pull that type of bs again #hopefully next summer #hey look who's rambling in the tags again #yep I'm a loser

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ivy-elle · 2 months ago

Text

Kissing him out of nowhere

Feat. Scaramouche, Childe, Albedo, Xiao

Notes: gn!reader, established relationship

Scaramouche

Oh, he is fuming. Raging, even, as he storms into his office with a look far more infuriated than when he usually returns from a Fatui Meeting.

You glance up from the couch, where you’ve been immersed in some mission reports. “Good evening to you, too,” you greet him, raising an eyebrow. “What’s gotten you into this sparkling mood today?”

For that, you immediately receive a glare so lethal, an average Fatuus would’ve dispersed on the spot. Your other eyebrow follows.

“Do you know,” he inhales sharply, the air around him crackling up with barely contained fury, “what it feels like to be stuck with people whose IQ competes with the temperature in Snezhnaya?”

Scaramouche carelessly throws his coat over the chair, followed by his hat. Every word is laced with venom. “If I have… to endure even one more second with this moronic excuse of a Harbinger-”

Seeing the gravity of his utter misery, you snap your folders shut, watching him pace across the room. He stops and leans back against his desk, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why is it always my burden to be the only intelligent being in the room?”

“Hey,” you protest. You rise up, slowly making your way toward him.

He doesn’t look up. “Save it. You know precisely who I mean.”

“I might have an idea or two.” You are now standing right in front of him, noting the tense line of his shoulders and his agitated stance.

Scaramouche shakes his head in annoyance, ready to continue his tirade. Yet, the moment he looks up and opens his mouth you seize the opportunity and lean in, swallowing his next words in a quick kiss.

His eyes snap up, but you’re already drawing back again.

The words wither on his lips and his eyes flicker over your face, down to your mouth, and back to your eyes.

He doesn't take it exactly as an unwelcome gesture - simply a not calculated one. He should’ve known better by now.

You hide a satisfied smirk upon his silence and turn to head back to the couch.

But his hand immediately reaches out, grasping your wrist to stop your movement.

“Now,” he warns in a low voice, “where do you think you’re going?”

Scaramouche pulls you back in, and you stifle a laugh.

“We’re not done here.”

Childe

It is your very own kitchen, with your very own kitchen cabinets. With your very own utensils that you make sure to place in such an order you can always reach them comfortably.

So why, you wonder now, are your teacups suddenly on the highest level?

And why, you also wonder, is Childe leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, with that shit-eating smug grin plastered on his face, while he watches you.

“That is not funny,” you snarl, hands pressed against the counter as you turn your head to him.

“Oh, agree to disagree, sweetheart.” He clicks his tongue, stepping forward to grab your favourite mug. With a satisfied wink, he lowers his arm and holds it out to you. The almighty saviour.

But just as your fingers are about to brush the handle, he pulls back, lifting it way up over your head.

Silence.

You slowly drag your gaze from where your teacup has just been dangling in the air, up to meet his eyes.

“I’m gonna kill you.”

“You know I’m always up for that challenge.” He winks a second time. Your eyebrow twitches.

Despite his expectation of you lashing out or cursing him away, you remain perfectly calm.

And yet, it’s precisely this calmness – and the look you give him – that makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He swallows.

You take yet another step closer, now close enough for him to feel the heat radiating from your skin.

Childe’s face shifts into a grin. “Oho?”

But it is when your lips brush against his own, that he succumbs to the very nature he is bound to and folds. He immediately leans in.

“You’re playing dirty,” he whispers lowly against your lips.

Your fingers trace up his arm, pulling it down along with your cup. “Is it working?”

Childe swallows again. His other hand wraps around your waist as his eyes darken. “That depends on what you’re trying to achieve exactly.”

Albedo

Your legs dangle down from the counter as you quietly study Albedo while he’s studying some of his research. His eyebrows are scrunched in concentration while he reads through a stack of his research paper, checking over his hypotheses. He has one of those certain expressions on– the kind that makes your heart tingle in a very nice way.

Meanwhile, his other hand is resting on your knee, occasionally tracing soothing, invisible patterns that make your skin tingle in a very nice way.

You can’t help the smile blossoming on your lips.

“Just to recap once more- the material is reacting in the way I have predicted, and it also aligns with the experiences and sighting you come across in Sumeru, love. And yet-,” he lowers the paper sheets, looking up with a slight tilt of his head. “I believe I need to gather some more samples to ensure the data’s reliability.”

Albedo withdraws his hand from your knee and places it on his chin with a pensive expression. You could practically see the invisible math equations swirling around his head.

Following your immediate instinct, you lean forward, cupping his cheeks in your hands as you press a soft but heartfelt kiss on his lips.

He blinks. His gaze flicker over your face as his eyes soften.

The moment you redraw your hand, his immediately follows, gently wrapping around your wrist.

“Did I say something that fascinating that it earned me this honour?”

Fingers intertwining with his, you smile in a sheepish way. “Nope, just in a particular mood.”

“A good mood, I would hope.”

“Sure.”

Xiao

“Are my eyes deceiving me or is that actually something different than Almond Tofu I am detecting in your hands.”

Xiao doesn’t blink, most definitely having sensed you approaching him long before you spoke. His eyes meet yours from the branch of tree he is settled in.

“It was an offer from the chef,” he explains, his tone gruff. Then he adds, a bit quieter. “I am not dependent on some tofu.”

Your lips twitch with amusement. “Are you sure? Could’ve fooled me.”

His time among people and other mortal beings must have really influenced him enormously, because you could swear, Xiao just rolled his eyes on you.

Despite his coarse demeanour, he shifts slightly to make space for you next to him on the branch. You place a foot on a lower branch, using it as a step to pull yourself up right beside him. There you eye the bowl in his hand. “Walnut soup?”

Xiao simply hums, taking another sip.

“It smells delicious. Can I try?”

His face turns to you, eyes flickering from your face to his soup. “Be my guest.”

He offers you the bowl, and just as he’s about to lift the spoon, you lean in, gently placing your lips against his.

Before he could properly register your movement – too distracted by your sudden closeness – you draw back, hiding a smile while he freezes up. “I get it now. It tastes even better.”

Heat rises up Xiao’s neck and climbs up to the very tip of his pointy ears.

As you lean back to savour the masterpiece of an absolute flustered Xiao, the adeptus quickly turns his head back to his food, carefully schooling his expression.

“Audacity of mortals…,” you hear him grumble under his breath. And yet, the rapid beat of his heart and the faint hue of red still lingering on his cheeks tell an entirely different story.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #fluff #genshin impact #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #childe x reader #albedo x reader #xiao x reader #x reader

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moonsaver · 4 months ago

Text

Where the Lamb does not Belong.

You're isekai'd into the world of Honkai Star Rail. Thankfully, you're taken into the Astral Express and continue your journey peacefully, until you reach Penacony. Something, or someone, seems to be causing your system to continually crash. Perhaps it's because you did not belong here at all.

Warnings: yandere, obviously. Uh, mentioned fracture(?)

A/n; reader is a tad forgetful and can brush off a few things, and get distracted slightly easily. But for the most part, i think it won't ruin the immersion. Its my first time writing something "self aware" related, and something like a character breaking the 4th wall. I really love these tropes but rarely write them. I hope i did it well. Its roughly 4.5k long. Enjoy.

----

“Ace!”

“It's not ace.”

“Uno!”

“March, you're supposed to say it after you put down your second card.”

“Oh, sure.”

…

“March, it's not your turn.”

“Huh?!”

You giggle, listening in on their banter. You're leaned up comfortably on Dan Heng's back, messing around with a level on Stelle's phone she hasn't been able to beat.

You hear a loud groan, a fwop as March drops on her back onto the bed,

“This is so confusing!”

“The rules are simple, you're just trying to rush things.”

Dan Heng takes the cards and settles them, tapping them vertically to level and gather them onto the little table. You stretch your neck to look back and catch a glimpse of March sulking. Stelle gently pries the phone out of your hands as you do so.

“Hey let's go through our photo album again!”

“It's the 6th time this month.”

You chuckle, getting up from Dan Heng's back as you feel him shift, moving over to situate yourself around the table aswell, the the bed dipping under your weight.

“I knew you were into photography but wow, this is something, March.”

You say, leaning over on the table, your elbow resting on it as your chin rests on your palm,

“Well, you better be grateful ‘cause I just finished up your entry!”

“My entry?”

You blink, confused,

“She's been dutifully taking pictures of your progress as a new member of the Astral express. I've.. learnt from experience It's better that you don't try to stop her.”

You laugh awkwardly, staring down as March excitedly flips through the photo book. It's a bit embarrassing now that you recall.

“Here! Look, look, look! I caught [name] in all their glory!”

“March..”

You awkwardly laugh, as Dan Heng looks over at the photo March points to in her photobook,

You cringe as you see your own expression, dull and groggy, a stark contrast to the bright letters and stickers decorating the edge of the photo that's glued tightly onto the page. You're drooling, to top it off.

“Hehe, [name] looks cute here don't they?!”

March points down to another photo right below, blurry in the midst of action. Your hazy figure is sitting up on a bed, Stelle draped over your lap while in charge of watching over you when you first appeared.

“I should have stayed to watch over, instead.”

Dan Heng comments under his breath, glancing back momentarily at Stelle, her chin hooked over his shoulder after having abandoned the game, seemingly more interested in the collection.

You chuckle softly,

Where did it begin exactly?

You boarded as an official member of the Astral Express about a few months ago, a gold brooch handed over to you, and many new faces who welcomed you onboard. You remember being home one day, going to sleep and hoping, just hoping that all of your worries and stress would just.. disappear. Your head hit the pillow and then-

You woke up. Here.

Suddenly you woke up in the very game you played to relieve your stress. Ironically, that moment you woke up was one of your most stressful memories, panicking at the situation you were in–

“Aw, dang it. I got defeated.”

All of you look over to Stelle, and to the red screen on her phone. You chuckle, as March sighs and shifts the topic.

You yawn and settle back onto the bed, leaning on a pile of pillows as March and Dan Heng continue their banter, taking this time to go through your stats, swiping and tinkering on your phone.

You've reached a higher level now. Having unlocked many items and even levelled up some basic features which allowed you to at the very least, defend yourself.

You read through the archived stories, gazing over all the past dialogue you've shared with this trio from the “main quest” ever since you boarded. Your friendship level with many had increased gradually over time, and shot up with the trio, as expected.

“[Name]..”

Stelle whines, pushing her phone back to you. You giggle, taking the device from her hands,

“Alright, I won't get distracted this time.”

This was your first expedition as a new member of the Astral Express. Which didn't help considering you were going into Penacony of all places.

You were nervous – how was your presence going to alter the timeline? Maybe a less “on screen” role like Himeko's? Or maybe you should have just stayed back with Dan Heng? But the experience, materials and all sorts of gizmos Penacony was going to offer.. It was too tempting.

And here you are, in the lobby. Himeko and Welt continue negotiating with the young woman at the reception. You were already on edge, but it seemed things just had to go wrong as well.

To distract yourself, you fidgeted and anxiously viewed the prologue to Penacony the system had just offered to you, repeatedly scrolling up and down on your phone, tapping your foot, pacing around the hotel a bit when–

A hand came up to your shoulder.

“It seems you're quite worried.”

You looked back.

It's Robin.

“Sorry, uh, we're.. having difficulty with the check-in and..”

You momentarily trail off, almost lost as you look at Robin. Her in game model was beautiful, but now that you're standing in front of her, it's almost.. mesmerising. Her eyes are beautiful – deep and ethereal. Pretty pink lips and softly dusted cheeks, her hair wispy and framing her face just the right way. You're awestruck for a moment, before panicking and snapping out of your daze.

You're at a hotel lobby for aeons’ sake!

“O-Oh, uh, my family is–”

You turn over to see Himeko and Welt continuing to go back and forth with the young woman at the reception, and turn again to see March and Stelle slightly off in the corner talking anxiously.

“They seem lovely.”

Robin smiles at you. And suddenly, your eyebrows and shoulders relax. Your jaw slightly slacks. Something about Robin seems to soothe you more than you ever thought.

Your eyes trail over to the bar in the corner;

Friendship level: 0

Right. She's still a stranger, in this timeline of events.

You're snapped out of your thoughts momentarily as another, unfamiliar voice speaks up from the crowd – a blonde man, addressing your fellow trailblazers.

This can't be good.

You walk up, regrouping with March and Stelle as they watch it all happen.

–

The golden hour was a familiar map to you, particularly because you'd loved exploring the place back when you used to play.

But actually being there is stunning.

The yellow lights brighten up the night-like atmosphere in a beautiful, classy way. It's almost as though you're in an old film, the way everything around you is hazy and glowing. There's laughter in the background and shimmering lights somewhere in the distance, drinks and the smell of food occasionally wafting in the air from corner cafés or so. You wander, awestruck at the sight of the landscape when–

You bump into someone, a small sound leaving you at the impact.

You look back to take a look at the stranger - more to try and ground yourself into this “dream” and your current reality. You were in Penacony. And all of this was physically interacting with you, regardless of how miniscule you must be. Whether you would have been reincarnated as a Cafe owner, or an NPC, or anyone else. As long as you were on Penacony, you were going to be a part of Sunday's grand plan.

You zone out, the hazy cacophony of ecstasy in the background blurring in the crowded space of your mind, thoughts overarching and bubbling up.

Beep!

You look at your phone, buzzing as quests pop up. You take a moment to look around the various shops, before your eyes land on a cozy cafe.

It won’t hurt to rest for a moment.

–

“Shit, shit, shit..”

You curse to yourself, frantically tapping on the screen and trying to fix this mess.

“Just– cooperate damn it..!”

Your teeth gnaw at your lip, biting and peeling off bits of the skin. It stings, but in your anxious state, you barely pay mind,

Why was the system not cooperating with you?!

None of your teleportation points worked, you weren't levelling up, barely any of the trinkets given by completion of quests were being used up! It was rudimentary junk in your inventory and now for some god awful reason, your entire system was going haywire!

System error: freespace is occupied!

System error: unavailable tab

System error: unable to access tab

System error: unable to complete..

“Yeah, yeah I got it you little-”

“Is something the matter?”

You gasped under your breath, a chill shooting up your spine as you turn around,

“No, no! Nothing, haha just.. uh..”

You awkwardly shuffle, pretending to look into your bag,

“You seem to be having trouble.”

Sunday's poised figure contrasts your sweaty, nervous, fidgeting one, as you only panic more at his words.

“Oh, just.. well.. it’s my first time visiting another world, so..”

“Ah, first time jitters? I’m faintly familiar.”

You chuckle awkwardly, but your humour doesn't seem to be exactly matched. Sunday’s smile doesn't widen or lessen, and neither does he chuckle. You realise how uncanny he looks in the dim lights of the Golden Hour barely illuminating his face in the alley.

“You seem to have been separated from your group. Would you like me to accompany you on your way back?”

“Sure–”

Warning: you are currently interacting with an influential figure. Proceed with caution.

“..you seem hesitant.”

You look at the glaring notification on your screen - akin to when an amber alert pops up, or when an earthquake warning resounds.

“..uh, I think.. I’ll be able to find them on my own. I should be fine.”

“I insist. As the representative and Spokesperson of The Family it is my duty to ensure the safety and relaxation of guests in the Dreamscape.”

Shit. This guy isn’t giving in.

You hesitate, a bead of sweat forming on your forehead and grazing the top of your eyebrow,

Beep!

Optional: would you like dialogue suggestions to be displayed?

[Yes]

[No]

[No – do not ask again]

You sigh internally. At least this system knows how to assist you when you need it.

“Shall we?”

Sunday beckons you to follow, as the pop-up blinks away, before you get the chance to select.

There’s no getting out of this. You’re just gonna have to suck it up and be careful.

“..sure.”

Sunday doesn’t remember when it exactly began.

Strange patterns, predictable dialogues, and the anomalies that occured..

Right after Sunday discovered your name.

He watched as the cup from the trash pile slipped and fell onto the pavement. Your name was written on it – messily and hurried. The cup rolls down a bit before hitting the side of his shoe. Sunday watched it with indifference, opting to simply move it aside before he spotted it. Your name. But it wasn’t supposed to be.

An alias? Maybe. It was different than the name administered in your profile.

He opted to push it back for later; but it was an interrupted thought as he walked ahead and watched you fiddle around with your phone, buzzing constantly as you cursed at it.

He breathes out, before deciding to approach you.

–

“Alone?”

“Alone.”

You respond, your eyes embarrassed and watching the various shuffling of feet in front of you, the crowd forming in front of the Rollercoaster you were too scared to go on.

Well, it's rather you haven't been able to go onto them.

Stelle and March offered you to join, and usually you'd be able to accept the invitation pop up, but as of recent, your system has been going haywire. The system probably narrowed down the scenarios you'd be allowed to participate in,in order to control the situation.

So you stood there, your mood dampened as you accepted that the system would not allow you to partake in the ride with your friends, shaking your head and telling them to go on instead, leaving you behind.

And Sunday saw all of it.

Or rather, just that you haven't gone onto the ride.

“Are you afraid of heights?”

“No, nothing like that.”

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. Even if you were.. he's not exactly the person you'd tell it to, anyway. You ignore the buzzing of your phone as it displays the same warning, jaded and moody as you'd been denied a great opportunity to have fun.

“..there is a new bakery that's opened up in the corner. Would you like to visit?”

You blink, and look at him, confused. He seems to have understood your confusion, and follows up,

“Until your companions have had their fill. Just for a cup of coffee.”

You hesitate, humming in contemplation. You look at the options displayed;

Options:

□ “Sure. Let's go.”

□ “sorry, my husband's waiting for me on the express.

□ “No thank y–

System Error: no options available

You sigh. You really need to do something about these errors. You nod,

“Sure. Let's go.”

…

The bakery was warm, and lively. As soon as you entered, the faintly sweet smell of pastries and the waft of coffee enveloped you two. You gawked at the mesmerising scenery, while Sunday asked for an available booth that's more hidden from the public eye.

The seats were soft, and pliable as you took your seat, still taking in the view of the bakery. You hear Sunday clearing his throat and tapping the table, your gaze shifting to him. He points to the menu. You understand his cue and take to reading it, your eyes scanning the plethora of options as Sunday does the same.

“Have you.. been here before?”

“I have visited once in the past. With my sister.”

“Ah, how is Robin?”

Your eyes settle on a particular option, as the silence between you two fills with comfortable conversation,

“She has been well. Are you looking forward to her performance at the coming Festival?”

You blink as you realise. How could you forget? The entire reason you and the rest of the crew even came to Penacony! This was the guy who was gonna put everyone into a coma!

“O-Oh, uh, yes! March has been talking non-stop about it, so..”

You chuckle awkwardly, flustered as he caught you a bit off guard. He hums, his face indifferent and neutral as your words process in his mind.

“I suppose I shall expect you in the audience, then?”

“March will drag me to the front, so you'll probably get a clear view of me in my uncomfortable glory.”

That seems to elicit a small, soft chuckle from him, as his eyes land on a specific item on the menu, seeming to have decided his own liking.

“Very well. I'll look forward to it.”

Soon enough, a waitress comes up to the table, and begins taking your orders.

–

“It does seem a tad scary, but the view is always beautiful in the Astral express.”

“I'm sure of it. It sounds wonderful.”

Sunday listens to you dutifully, as you continue talking. Somewhere along the way, your discomfort at the awkward silence between you two led to you talking and filling in the silence, your coffee cup hanging idly in your hands. One thing led to another, as both of you started talking about your childhood memories, tea flavours, desserts, and so on. You find Sunday has been easy to converse with. You'd been ignoring the constant buzzing of your phone – most likely achievements or quests that popped up constantly wherever you went.

You take another sip from your coffee as Sunday takes his initiative to talk, listening to him well, and chuckling slightly at one or the other thing.

“I came to know tea is supposed to be made with hot water, but by then I'd gotten accustomed.”

You giggle, slightly in disbelief,

“Well, do you like iced tea now?”

Sunday shakes his head,

“I prefer coffee, more than that. Perhaps due to needing it more than a preference..”

His eyes trail to your cup, as you hold it in your hands. You follow his gaze,

Is something wrong? He'd been glancing at your cup a few times now, but you didn't comment on it before.

“Is.. something wro–”

Your words are cut off as your phone loudly rings, making you almost fumble and drop your coffee as you hurriedly take your phone.

It's March!

Crap, you forgot.

“Sorry, I uh..”

You scroll through the plethora of notifications, almost all of them missed calls and various texts.

“It seems your companions were searching for you.”

You look up, as Sunday looks into the distance, Stelle and March running towards you.

–

It was strange how things progressed since you came to Penacony.

Some of your equipment took ages to level up, the others taking barely anything before they hit their maximum level. Your friendship level progressed pretty highly on some days, and barely moved an inch on other days.

Your friendship level with Sunday, on the other hand, shot up to a 5. Not even anyone on the Astral Express had that level.

You only noticed it a fraction before you cleared all your notifications at once, swiped away before your finger had the chance to tap on it.

Regardless, that wasn’t your exact concern as of late. The story of Penacony had been well under way now, and things were starting to pick up.

As of recent, you haven't been able to remember the quest contents as much as you used to, only remembering enough in the last moment to avert an extremely bad decision – at least for yourself. Your own personal missions left you alive by a hair's breadth.

But if that didn't upset you – your crew did. The pressure of everything happening on Penacony seemed to have started to weigh down on your team, as they barely regard you anymore. You could technically blame it on the system �� it's been trying desperately to revive and fix itself as the game progresses. You might be interfering with the inner workings, so you suppose it's only natural the game tries to limit your interactions with the world.

So for the most part, you've resigned yourself to be an NPC; walking around all of the tourist attractions, getting who knows how many cups of coffee, trying on various clothing items, and occasionally running into Sunday. The first few times, you awkwardly fiddled with your phone for optional dialogues, but as time went on, you felt more comfortable. Regardless, it's not like anything you say can technically avert him from his current plan. It's been in the schemes for who knows how long? As of now, it's less complicating to remain ignorant and act unknowing, and enjoying another walk with him as he surveys the Dreamscape. Considering how close you two might be getting, you'll probably end up telling him a few secrets from your past.

“The Grand theatre is Penacony’s main attraction.”

Sunday’s face is illuminated by it in the distance, as he stands, staring at it. His voice is barely audible, seemingly as if he speaks to himself. But that idea is swept under the rug the moment he turns slightly to you.

When was this cutscene? You curse your memory, the fog of your mind still not cleared from when you first came to this world,

“Have you decided to attend?”

Truthfully, you didn’t want to. Considering the story, you actually knew the event wasn’t going to happen. But in the case it did..

Options:

□ “Ill be there first in line to enter.”

□ “Im thinking about it.”

□ “probably not..”

“..I have.”

You hesitantly answer.

“You haven’t made up your mind.”

Sunday states, more as a fact than a question. You can’t blame him, considering the hesitance apparent in your voice.

“..out of everyone, I’d hoped you would have attended.”

The options flicker and appear, but before you can press and respond, he continues,

“I understand. How has your family been?”

He turns to face you, you stay silent for a moment, before humming and clicking on an option,

□ “They’re alright.”

□ “I hope they’re all okay.”

□ “I wouldn’t really know..”

“Ah, uh.. we’re all kind of in our separate ways right now, so.. I wouldn’t really know.”

“I see.”

Both of you stand in silence, as you follow his gaze to the glowing theatre. After a moment, Sunday breaks his silence,

“When I was a child, I was particularly soft-spoken. Back then, Robin used to stand up for me frequently.”

Your ears perk up slightly. Is he talking about a childhood memory right now?

“One day, she wasn’t around, taking a few extra music lessons. The other kids were simply curious enough to take me in.”

You hum, listening to him intently. Your eyes gaze over his features – softly shaded by the cold light of the theatre, and illuminated by the yellow lights of the path.

“We were all kids. One of them pulled and broke my wing that day.”

You gasp, involuntarily. Ouch.

But sunday only chuckles at your reaction, his eyes downwards and distant. You don't think he finds it funny.

“But do you know? Right after that - they visited me. Day after day. Every step of recovery. Every recess when I had to sit back, they accompanied me. I thought about it recently. Humanity is worth saving.”

You stay silent, before smiling. The silence seems pleasant over you two, as you stare at the Grand Theatre in the distance.

“That, is when human spirit and strife first piqued my interest.”

You blink, and turn to look at him, the smile on your face faltering,

“What must the weak, the misfortunate, and the falsely accused do to gain balance within this world?”

You’re left speechless for a moment. It seems even the system cannot exactly provide you any dialogue options, as you glance over to your phone.

“..balance in the world isn’t achievable, which is why the human spirit strives to fix it.”

You stay silent, listening to him.

“Would a bird that cannot fly be allowed to, simply because it yearns to? Would it be righteous of you, or of the bird, to allow the freedom and death of the vast sky? Is it still righteous, if you withhold its freedom?”

He inhales, slowly, speaking in a low voice, wavering.

“Is death the only comprehensible freedom life offers, beside slumber, to the weak? Is that truly freedom?”

Sunday turns to look at you – his golden eyes almost searing into your soul.

You break out into a sweat, panicking as you check your phone, desperately trying to find an option when–

System Error: options not available

Shit, shit, shit. Holy crap. Can you even speak right now?

You're left silently staring at Sunday. He stares back before resigning to quietly look away.

You should leave.

—

Your memory seems to be strangely affected – either because you haven't been able to adjust to the new world, or you just haven't been able to adapt to Penacony.

You groan and slump into the couch of your room, in the real world. You keep forgetting to charge your phone – which isn't technically a hassle; you can access the same menu options, it's just more.. time-consuming. Not to mention you lose your only source of dialogue option pop ups.

How long has this been going on? You knew Penacony had a vast and complicated storyline, but living it feels entirely different. Feeling it is entirely bizarre. No wonder your head's spinning.

But thankfully, it should end soon. Your last quest is to face off Sunday in his boss form. You and your members have decided to meet up at the Grand Theatre, where the event will take place.

You place your phone into charging, and right on cue, March pops up into your room. She stumbles around your room a bit the moment you turn your back, even hear her drop and accidentally knock over some items on her way, simply laughing at the girl, as you continue packing up and preparing for the final “showdown”. You disregard her words, when she tells you she felt something push her.

You're not sure when the next cutscene plays.

You're in the grand theatre; just having defeated Sunday, and collectively waiting to return to the Astral Express. This is when you meet Boothill and Black Swan, where she wakes you up using Misha as a fallacy within Ena's dream.

But you aren't waking up.

You've just been stranded in the empty grand theatre after the darkness lifted.

You try to turn your phone on – but its busted. March must have disconnected the plug when she stumbled across a few things.

You sigh, irritated and antsy, choosing to walk ahead and look warily at the mechanical statues. The quest description is empty; devoid of any explanation. The title is vague and doesn't indicate much. Are you stuck in the loading screen? What the hell is going on?

And just as you are about to shout out for help – Sunday appears. There he is, on the stage. But this time, there's no spotlight. He stares down at you, emptily. You're creeped out for the lack of a better word, feeling your skin crawl with every second he stares. The silence is paper thin and thickly dense at the same time; electrified with tension and the unknown.

He makes the first step, slowly descending down and towards you.

“You are an outsider.”

System error: cannot process dialogue

“You do not belong here.”

System error: cannot proceed further

“I do not belong here.”

System warning: further interaction in this context may lead to irreversible da–

Sunday's hand rips through the warning, causing it to glitch violently, and disappear. You're scared, your throat constricting and your heart almost lurching out of your chest as he continues walking towards you, eyes searing into your soul,

“We do not belong here.”

Beep!

Options:

□ We do not belong here

□ I do not belong here

□ You do not belong here

□ We belong together

■ There is nothing else left for you here. You cannot turn back. There is no other option.

The screen glitches out, as Sunday stands before you, his hand reaching out,

“Tell me. What is your name?”

You can't access anything – the menu, the quests, your inventory, nothing. You stare almost endlessly in horror, as Sunday speaks of your real name.

You shouldn't have used it on that coffee cup.

1K notes · View notes

mrsfancyferrari · 8 days ago

Text

Baby Fever

Summary: OP81 + babysitting a child

Song: Melting · Kali Uchis

Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

Word count: 2.8k

MASTERLIST - F1

It was a sunny Saturday morning when Oscar and you arrived at your sister's house, the soft sound of laughter echoing from within. Today was your day to babysit little Olivia, your sister’s five-month-old daughter.

You had always adored Olivia, with her bright blue eyes and wisps of golden hair that caught the light like spun sugar. But you weren't prepared for what the day would unfold.

As you stepped through the door, the smell of fresh coffee greeted you two, wrapping around you like a warm embrace, and you caught sight of your sister bustling around the kitchen, prepping snacks and leaving last-minute instructions.

The moment felt charged with anticipation. Your sister turned, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, and you felt your heart lift in response.

“Hey! You guys are right on time!” she said, beaming at you two. “Olivia has been waiting for you!”

You couldn’t help but smile. “I hope she’s not too much trouble,” you said, glancing over at Oscar, who had just caught sight of the little one.

His face lit up with joy, and a sense of warmth filled the room.

“Oh, she’s a delight,” your sister reassured you, her voice brimming with affection. “But she can be a handful when she wants to be!”

You two made your way to the living room, where Olivia was nestled in a playpen, surrounded by colorful toys that seemed to dance with life. Each toy was a vibrant splash of color, a cheerful invitation for play.

As soon as Olivia spotted Oscar, her face lit up with excitement, a burst of pure, unfiltered joy.

“Look at that!” you exclaimed, nudging Oscar playfully. “She’s smitten with you already!”

“Hey there, little princess!” Oscar cooed, crouching down to Olivia’s level. His voice was soft and gentle, and it sent a flutter through your stomach—a reminder of the simple, profound magic that occurs when love is shared.

Olivia squealed in delight, waving her tiny arms and kicking her little legs in a frenzy of happiness. It was a sight that melted your heart, igniting a warmth that spread throughout your being.

You couldn’t help but grab your phone and snap a picture of Oscar leaning into the playpen, his eyes full of warmth and affection.

“C’mon, smile for the camera!” you said, trying to contain your own excitement, feeling the rush of happiness bubble within you.

Oscar glanced up, a playful grin on his face. “Is this going on your Instagram? I better look good!”

“Oh, don’t worry. You look adorable,” you teased, capturing the moment forever in digital form.

“Can you send me that later? I need to update my profile pic,” he chuckled, returning his attention to Olivia, who was now trying to grab his finger, her tiny grip conveying a strength beyond her size.

You and Oscar spent the next few hours immersed in Olivia's world, playing with her as if she were the sun and you two were the planets, spinning around her light.

Oscar was surprisingly great with her, holding her securely while making silly faces and sounds that sent ripples of laughter cascading from her lips. Olivia giggled, her laughter ringing like the sweetest music—a melody that filled the space around you and made everything feel right.

“Wow, you’ve got a talent for this,” you said, watching as he expertly balanced her on his knee, his hands cradling her tiny frame with such care. “Have you done this before?”

“Not a lot,” he replied, his cheeks flushing slightly. “But I guess it just comes naturally when you’re around a cutie like her.”

“Oh, so you think she’s cute?” you teased, leaning closer to them, the playful banter weaving a tapestry of connection between you two.

“Of course! But you’re cuter,” he said, giving you a cheeky wink, and your heart raced at the exchange, at the ease with which he moved between playful flirtation and sincere affection.

You rolled your eyes playfully, but inside, you felt a warmth spread through you, a glow that lingered long after his words. As the day went on, you found yourself taking more pictures, wanting to capture every fleeting moment of joy.

There was something so tender about Oscar gently bouncing Olivia on his knee or the way he would rock her to sleep, humming a tune softly, the sound melding seamlessly with the soft hum of the world outside.

“I think she’s ready for a nap,” Oscar said, glancing down at the baby, who was now starting to rub her eyes, tiny fists balled in the universal sign of sleepiness.

“Yeah, I think so too,” you agreed, feeling a sense of purpose as you two moved to put her down. “Let’s put her in her crib.”

Oscar followed your lead, and you worked together seamlessly, like a well-rehearsed duet. He carefully laid Olivia down, tucking her in with her favorite blanket while you dimmed the lights, creating a cocoon of comfort.

As she drifted off, you noticed the way Oscar’s expression softened, a hint of wonder in his eyes.

“Look at her,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. “She’s perfect.”

“She really is,” you agreed, feeling a tug at your heart. “You’re really good with her, Oscar. I can see you being a great dad one day.”

He turned to you, surprise flashing across his face. “You think so?”

“Definitely,” you said, biting your lip to suppress a grin. “You’ve got the whole caring thing down. Just look at you!”

Oscar chuckled softly, running a hand through his hair, the gesture endearing in its familiarity. “Well, I’m glad you think so. I guess spending a day with Olivia isn’t so bad.”

Once Olivia was sound asleep, you retreated to the kitchen, where you two prepared a quick lunch. The atmosphere was light and easy, filled with the gentle clatter of dishes and the sweet sound of laughter.

As you ate, the conversation flowed effortlessly, like a river finding its course.

“So, do you want kids someday?” you asked, more curious than you realized. It was a question that hung in the air, a thread connecting your hearts in this intimate moment.

He paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “Yeah, I think so. Maybe a couple. How about you?”

“I’ve always wanted a family,” you admitted, surprised at your own candidness, your heart racing as you shared you thoughts. “But I guess I never thought about it too much until today.”

“Why today?” he asked, leaning forward, clearly intrigued, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

You shrugged, a little shyly. “I don’t know. I just see how good you are with Olivia, and it kind of makes me think...”

“Think what?” he pressed gently, his eyes searching yours, a mix of wonder and warmth enveloping you two.

“Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have a little one of our own one day,” you confessed, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks, the weight of your words lingering between you two.

Oscar’s smile widened, and he reached across the table, taking your hand in his, a gesture that felt monumental in its simplicity. “Well, I’d be honored if we got to do that together someday.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought, and you squeezed his hand, a grin spreading across your face, a feeling of belonging blooming within you. “Yeah, me too.”

As the afternoon wore on and Olivia woke up, you found yourselves wrapped up in her giggles once again. It was a day filled with joy, laughter, and an unexpected revelation about your future together.

By the end of it, as Oscar and you watched Olivia play, you felt a longing in your heart that you hadn’t anticipated—a longing for a family and perhaps for a life with Oscar that included more than just babysitting your sister's baby.

This little adventure had opened a door you didn't know existed, and it felt like the start of something profound.

As you snapped one last picture of Oscar and Olivia, their faces illuminated with joy, you couldn’t help but feel that this was just the beginning of something beautiful, a story waiting to unfold—one where laughter, love, and the pitter-patter of tiny feet might one day fill your home, creating memories that would last a lifetime.

The soft glow of the TV illuminated the cozy living room as the cheerful tunes of Cocomelon filled the air. You were nestled into the couch, a warm blanket draped over you and your boyfriend, Oscar, as Olivia gurgled and babbled in your arms.

The sweet smell of baby lotion lingered around you, and the world outside seemed to fade away, the chaotic hum of daily life replaced by the serene rhythm of laughter and animated melodies.

In this intimate cocoon, time felt suspended, as if you were in a little world of your own—a beautiful sanctuary where nothing else mattered but the warmth of your family and the joy radiating from a baby’s laughter.

“This is the life,” Oscar murmured, glancing down at the baby who was enthralled by the animated characters dancing across the screen.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer, and you could feel the tenderness in his touch. “I could get used to this.” His voice was soft, laced with affection, and it made your heart flutter.

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. “Me too. I mean, look at her. She’s adorable.” You gently bounced Olivia on your knee, eliciting a giggle from the little one, a sound so pure and delightful that it seemed to resonate deep within your soul.

Her bright eyes sparkled with excitement, reflecting the colorful images dancing on the screen, and in that moment, you felt an overwhelming surge of love and protectiveness over this tiny being.

“She really is,” Oscar said, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on Olivia’s forehead. “You’re the cutest little munchkin in the whole wide world, aren’t you?”

Olivia clapped her tiny hands in response, her eyes sparkling with delight, a captivating sight that filled the room with an infectious energy.

The peaceful atmosphere was suddenly interrupted by the sound of the front door creaking open, the familiar sound that signaled the arrival of your sister, Claire.

She walked in, her arms filled with grocery bags, a picture of bustling energy. As she caught sight of the scene in the living room, a broad grin broke across her face, illuminating her features.

“Wow, you two already look the part!” she exclaimed, setting her bags down on the table with a flourish. “Should I be worried about leaving you alone with her?” There was a teasing lilt in her voice, an underlying sense of pride mingling with her playful skepticism.

You chuckled, looking up at your sister, your heart swelling with warmth. “We’ve got it under control! Right, babe?” You directed the question at Oscar, who nodded vigorously, his eyes sparkling with determination.

“Absolutely,” Oscar replied, his voice filled with confidence. “We make a great team.” The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and you felt a sense of unity and shared purpose envelop you both.

“Are you sure you don’t need us to take care of her for a little longer?” you begged, tightening your hold on Olivia as she reached out for your hair, her tiny fingers tangling in the strands.

The innocent curiosity of a child always seemed to capture your heart, igniting a desire to protect and nurture.

Claire raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “You know you can’t keep her forever, right?” The playful challenge in her voice made you laugh, a sound filled with playful defiance.

“I mean, we could if we really wanted to,” you said, playfully sticking your tongue out at her. “Look at how much fun we’re having! Cuddling, watching shows, and—”

“And learning all about the joys of diaper changing?” Claire interjected, her voice dripping with sarcasm, making you burst into laughter.

“Okay, maybe we don’t have that part down just yet,” Oscar admitted, glancing at you with a smirk, and the lightheartedness of the moment made your heart feel light. “But we can handle it. We’ve been practicing our ‘baby talk’ and everything.”

“Baby talk?” Claire laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t think that’s a skill you need to master. But it’s sweet you’re both so eager.”

You smiled at Oscar, feeling a rush of affection for him. “I really am grateful you decided to come with me to babysit. It’s nice to see you in this light.” The sincerity in your voice resonated with the deeper emotions swirling around in your chest.

Oscar looked a bit flustered but pleased, his cheeks tinting slightly with a hint of pink. “Well, it’s nice to see you in this light too. You’re a natural.” The compliment washed over you like a warm wave, igniting a spark of joy and validation.

“Okay, okay, enough with the mushy stuff!” Claire teased, plopping down onto the couch beside you, breaking the moment with her playful interruption. “I just came from the store, and I brought some treats. How about a snack break?”

“Please tell me you brought cookies!” you said, your eyes lighting up at the prospect of a sweet indulgence.

The thought of chocolate chip cookies brought a flood of childhood memories, evoking a sense of nostalgia that made you yearn for those simpler days.

“Of course! But you have to share with Olivia,” Claire replied, winking at her niece. “The more sugar, the more energy, right?”

You groaned playfully, feigning horror. “Oh no, we’ll never get her to sleep!” The thought of a hyperactive Olivia was amusing, and you could already envision the chaotic giggles and squeals that would ensue.

“That’s what makes it fun!” Oscar chimed in, clearly enjoying the lighthearted banter. “More giggles, less sleep!” His eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, and you couldn’t help but laugh, caught up in the camaraderie of the moment.

Claire started unpacking her bags, revealing an array of snacks: cookies, fruit snacks, and juice boxes. As she handed you a cookie, you took a bite, savoring the rich chocolate melting in your mouth.

“Delicious!” you declared, grabbing another one before Olivia could spot them. But Olivia had already caught sight of the brightly colored juice boxes and was reaching out for one, her eyes wide with curiosity.

“Looks like we’ve got a little juice thief on our hands,” Claire said, chuckling as you quickly grabbed a juice box for Olivia. “Here you go, little one,” you said, handing it over.

Olivia squealed in delight, her tiny hands clasping the juice box, and you watched in pure joy as she took her first sip, her little face lighting up with joy that seemed to radiate around the room.

“See? We’re perfect at this,” you said, feeling a swell of pride as Olivia squeaked and wiggled with excitement.

Oscar leaned back against the couch, watching you with admiration, his gaze softening as it met yours.

“I could definitely get used to this family dynamic,” he said quietly, his words carrying a weight that made your heart flutter.

“Me too,” you replied, your heart swelling with warmth.

The joy of the moment made you realize that this was more than just babysitting; it was a glimpse into a future you both could build together, a shared vision that filled you with hope and longing.

As Olivia continued to giggle and bounce in your lap, you exchanged a knowing look with Oscar, a silent agreement passing between you.

This was just the beginning of many more beautiful moments to come, a preview of the laughter, the joy, and the unbreakable bond that family could create.

In the warmth of that living room, surrounded by the comforting presence of your loved ones, you felt a profound sense of belonging and the thrilling promise of a life filled with love and laughter ahead.

“So about that baby fever of yours?” Oscar whispers, leaning in closer, his breath tickling your ear. You feel a shiver run down your spine as he presses himself against you.

“What? Do you have it too?” you tease, your heart racing slightly as you turn to look at him, your playful smile lighting up your face.

He nods, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe I do. Maybe I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.”

598 notes · View notes

defmaybe · 12 days ago

Text

Sparks

12 Days of Christmas: Day 3, December 27th, 2024

tripleS’ Kim Yooyeon x Male Reader

4.2k words

Christmas Masterlist

A/N: Some gaming reference.

—

You couldn’t care less about Kim Yooyeon.

But she won’t seem to let you out of her sight.

—

It’s Christmas Eve. Taylor Swift’s Sparks Fly blares around the house. A bunch of drunk college students are surrounding you, as you’re playing Balatro on your phone, trying to beat the gold stake, the top one. A cup of beer sits by your side.

Your friends are out there trying to win a woman’s heart with their charms, with the help of alcohol and such. You couldn’t care less. You already have video games as your companion. It’s always like this: you’re always on your phone at social gatherings, talking to nobody.

What’s the damn point of coming here, then?

“Hey.”

A voice shakes you. You look up from your phone to find Kim Yooyeon in her Christmas costume—a strapless red and white dress. She looks good, but that’s not enough to pull you out of this damn fun card game.

“Hey, Yooyeon,” you greet her, before going back to hitting another flush on your phone. What is she even doing here?

“How are you?” She takes a seat beside you, one leg on top of the other. It’s revealing, but you’re not giving to it.

With eyes still focused on your phone, you answer her, “I’m good, thanks.”

You hear her sigh, and you realize that you forgot to ask her back. How rude of you!

“How are you, Yooyeon?” you ask her without pouring much care into it. She lets out a short exhale, amused by your nonchalance.

“Pretty good. Just finished my finals this afternoon,” she replies, leaning closer towards you to see what you’re playing. You can see that her dress is slightly revealing. “Ooh, Balatro~”

You let out a chuckle. What’s the possibility of someone like her playing the same game as you?

“Yeah, you play it?” you say, eyes still focusing on the screen.

“From time to time, yeah,” she answers. Her voice is calm, unfazed by the loud music.

You have never gotten the appeal of Kim Yooyeon to the other people around you. Not that you don’t appreciate her, it’s just that you couldn’t care less about this woman. She’s an activity student, taking part in the school band and playing football. She’s damn good as a left winger, according to the other guys. Her duty is cutting inside and scoring or–what’s the word?

Assisting.

You’ve never watched a single game.

You, on the other hand, are a full-time gamer. You stay in your room almost all the time, immersing yourself in the gaming world. You’ve played it all: Elden Ring, Slay the Spire, both parts of The Last of Us, and now Balatro. Talking to people just isn’t your thing.

“Have fun,” she finally says, noticing the gap between you and her, and she walks away into the party, enjoying the music again.

“See ya.” Your eyes didn’t even leave the screen when you said it.

—

The night rolls on. You’re frustrated at the game. You’ve died in the fourth ante for the third time in a row. Fuck! You reached the seventh ante once earlier in the night!

“Bad luck?”

Yooyeon comes back to you. You swear she looks different from an hour ago. She looks… prettier. Maybe it’s the effect of those damn alcohols. You can’t sway for now.

“Y–Yeah,”

Yooyeon then sits down on the chair beside you, one leg over the other. The view’s inviting “Wanna turn off the game and walk around?”

You shoot her a small, polite smile. “Thanks, but I’d rather be here, really.”

“It’d be fun,” Yooyeon persuades. “Might be better than keeping losing to the gold stake.”

She won’t let up, won’t she?

You let out a sigh. “I’ll go out when I’m ready, Yooyeon.”

Yooyeon chuckles. “Come see me when you’re ready~”

And you start a new run, so damn determined to beat this stake.

—

Your efforts prove fruitless, as you’re getting wrecked by the bullshit boss blinds again and again. Your builds just keep getting wrecked by these fucking bosses.

“Fuck.”

New run, new run, new run.

You hear a small giggle from the back. It’s Yooyeon, again.

“Ready to head out?” asks Yooyeon, thumb pointing towards the partygoers hollering behind her.

You groan in displeasure, frustrated by your defeat. You finally have to accept her invitation.

“Sure.”

You get up from your chair despondently. “Lead the way, Miss Kim.”

She lets out a childish giggle. “Alright, we’ll go to the kitchen. I have something for you~”

What could it be?

Yooyeon then leads you to the kitchen, sauntering. Her hips are swaying seductively. Her red and white Christmas costume is hugging her curves a little too well, and you wish you could just tear it off and start eating–

Where did that come from? Control yourself!

You walk through the murmuring crowd. Some of them are whispering to each other. They’re probably wondering what could’ve a star winger been doing with a nobody like you. You’re a bit tense by the onlookers. But with Yooyeon in front of you, it feels–weirdly calming.

You two finally reach the kitchen. She opens the fridge door, bending down to grab an egg. Her meaty thighs are all there for you to see. Her butt makes a slight contact with your crotch gently. Your breath hitches a little, but you can’t let her know she affects you.

Against the counter, she breaks the egg. She drizzles the white part of it out into the sink, leaving the yolk intact. It hasn’t broken yet.

What is she going to do with it?

She then chugs the yolk into her mouth. Your breath hitches slightly. Does every athlete have this crazy diet?

She turns back towards you. The yolk is still inside her mouth. She’s walking to you, swaying her hips, balancing the yellow blob with her tongue. Fuck, what an image.

“Y–Yooyeo–”

She grabs onto your face with both of her hands, pulling your face closer to hers, pressing you down, making your knees bent. You get a scent of her intoxicating perfume. She smells so good. Her thumbs push your mouth open, before she passes the yellow yolk into your mouth, intact. Your heartbeat speeds up. Your breathing quickens. Your hands tremble. You are everything but sure of what is happening.

Fuck.

You stare nervously into Yooyeon’s eyes, who seem satisfied with her result, making you a shaking mess with a yolk inside your mouth. She’s smirking. She’s rejoicing in this. Her hands are still gripping on your face tightly.

The yellow substance rests on your tongue idly. It tastes so fucking weird, but you can’t just spit it out so damn easily. You’re trying your best not to break it, but it’s fucking hard when you’re a shaking mess like this. You stutter out moans and moans with it inside.

You slowly stand up straight, slightly towering over her again. Although, with the smirk she’s having on her face, and the grip she has on your face, she’s holding the upper hand here.

She then opens her mouth, sticking out her tongue slightly, signaling you to pass the yolk back into her cavern. You close your eyes as you do so, letting out a shaky hum. It drifts from your mouth to hers. The earthy taste of it lingers—raw, pungent.

Yooyeon lets out a giggle with the golden blob in her mouth. It’s opening slightly. Her right hand lands on your back, forming an embrace, drawing stuttered whimpers out of you.

You’re lost in the sensation of her touches. Her left hand caresses your cheeks, even plunging her salty thumb into your mouth. You suck on her finger like some common whore. Her right hand travels under your belt. She’s grabbing your bulge softly. It feels so good.

Again, she then forces your mouth open with her fingers, before carefully lodging the yolk into your mouth. You try to receive it gently. You’re doing your best not to break it, but it’s hard when you’re under Yooyeon’s spell like this.

She plays with the tent in your pants eagerly, doing her best to make you lose control. She smiles wickedly before unzipping your pants, giving her a hole to play with your boxers. God, you feel like a toy for her, and that feels utterly divine.

You can feel that it’s starting to grow runny within your mouth. It’s going to break, but you can’t just let it happen! Yooyeon, please open your gorgeous mouth!

Like a saving grace, Yooyeon parts her lips slightly again. Shaken, you pass the amber blob back into her cavern. She accepts it with a hum, still caressing your caged cock eagerly. She lets out a satisfied hum in response to the yolk within her mouth.

You watch as the golden yolk rests on her tongue. The image is nothing short of outlandishly vulgar—every twist of her tongue, every squeeze of her hand. She’s so good at this.

She decides to toy with you a little more, inserting her slender fingers into your mouth. You accept them gleefully, so fucking ready to suck on her fingers like a bitch. You feel so good, so joyful, being her little man-whore like this. You’re so ready to be used by her like a personal fucktoy.

Her right hand digs under your boxers. She’s grabbing your cock now! And she’s fondling your balls like she owns it (she owns it). Her dexterous fingers are making you want to moan like a bitch. You let out an uncontained whimper at her touch into her fingers, looking weakly into her eyes. She has all the power over you now, and you can do nothing about it but to let her use you.

Again, she pries your mouth open with her fingers, opening hers along with yours. The yolk becomes visible again. Your turn.

She deliberately tilts her head down as you lower your knees to level yourself. The golden blob rests on her lips before it slides into your mouth.

A soft cry leaves you as the egg finds its place on your tongue. The sensation is unreal—the pungent taste of the amber ball, her fondling on your cock. You can cum right here and now, coating her right hand with your white, viscous nectar.

You slowly straighten yourself, towering over her once again. The power she’s holding over you remains. Both you and her know that she’s in control here. Her eyes bore straight into yours, making your legs shaking with anxiety.

There’s a hint of strawberries on her lips. She’s barely touching you on the mouth. Her breathing stays steady, as if she’s not at all affected by this. Her right hand is still squeezing your testicles in a consistent rhythm, enough to keep you stay obedient under her.

The egg enters your welcoming mouth. It feels so fragile inside you, and you’re struggling to control it. You feel weak. You panic. Your body trembles in anxiety. Is it going to–

The yolk breaks.

It explodes inside your mouth. Yellow liquid leaks out of its thin shell. The earthy, pungent taste fills your mouth, and you hear Yooyeon giggle, still groping your cock. Your eyes flutter at the overwhelming sensation. It feels so–full. Your head falls backwards, and the yolk leaks out of your parted lips, leaving a yellow trail in its wake on your face, on your shirt, and on your pants.

“Slut.”

—

The baby blue bedroom is barely lit. There’s a Bringing Out the Dead poster on the wall to your right. The owner probably likes Scorsese, you guess. There are Carly Rae Jepsen vinyls displayed on the shelf on your left—Emotion, Dedication, The Loneliest Time. God, the owner has some taste! The room smells of spring. It was taken care of well.

You lie on the soft bed, pliant, as Yooyeon presses you down with her entire body weight strongly, kissing you. Her legs are straddling your thighs, capturing you in place. You have no escape, but it’s like you’d do a thing right now. Yooyeon captures your lips in a fervent kiss. Her tongue pierces into your mouth hungrily, letting out a content hum as she does so. The taste of the yolk and alcohol still lingers in her breath.

Her hands find themselves on your face, holding you in place for the kiss. Her hips grind on your crotch in an erratic rhythm, and that makes you moan. She feels so damn good on your cock. You’re struggling to thrust up towards her still-clothed cunt. You feel so restrained like this.

She then pulls back, panting, leaving a string of saliva connecting your lips for a split second before it is torn off by the distance. Her hands move down to your flat chest.

“Nasty little slut,” Yooyeon sneers.

You let out a submissive whimper at the demeaning name. This feels great–her hands on your chest, her heat on your crotch, her vulgar words piercing your ear.

“Playing so damn hard to get, aren’t you?” Yooyeon continues. Her grinding grows harsher, making you stutter out whimpers. “Tell me I didn’t get this abs just for you to ignore me in the hallways.”

Her garment is pulled up, showing her firm muscles underneath. Your mouth opens wide in awe. She looks damn delicious. Jokes on you for not looking at her midriff when she wears those alluring crop-tops. You reach out to touch her, feeling the contour of her abs. She groans in satisfaction.

“Fucking whore.” Yooyeon laughs wickedly. Her head falls backward in ecstasy as she ups the ante on your crotch. Your body writhes in unbridled pleasure.

“Oh, I haven’t finished The Last of Us. I’m stuck at Radahn. I’m close to winning Ascension Twenty,” she mocks you. Her assaults on you are violent. You whimper again. What a slut.

“And now you’re touching my abs like some whore,” she scoffs. Her words are searing through you, but your arousal only heightens with the demeaning words. Her breathing seems to quicken with your touch.

Your mind can’t register anything around you anymore, so lost in the haze of her conquest and her degrading words over your body. You’re so lost that you don’t notice her hands unbuttoning your shirt, slowly revealing your out-of-shape body—should’ve hit the gym more often.

In a quick motion, she continues stripping off your body. She pulls your pants down to your ankles as she scoots slightly backwards on the bed. Your erection is visible under the boxers.

“Haven’t been using him a lot, have you?” she asks with an evil grin, fondling your cock gently.

“I–I’ve–ngh–had sex b–before, Yooyeon,” you stammer.

“Slut.”

She then slips your boxers down. Your cock springs free from its fabric cage. Her eyes sparkle with wonder. She loves your cock, and she just can’t wait to impale herself with it.

Hastily, she takes off her gorgeous red-and-white top. What a waste. She looks so pretty in it, but that thought is immediately replaced by the view of her toned body. You stare at her in awe. Her pert breasts are on full display, brown nipples already erect, just for you to–

“Mmm, suck on my tits like that, bitch.” Her words spur you on. You keep tasting her nipples like your life depends on it. You keep alternating your mouth between both sides, kneading the other with your free hand. Her aroma is an aphrodisiac to you—pungent, raw—and that only makes you grow more ferocious under her.

Feeling fulfilled with your sucking, Yooyeon pushes you onto the bed with a thud upon landing. You groan in the absence of her breasts inside your mouth.

“This is the part where you’ll be fucking my cunt,” Yooyeon orders, as she stands up on the bed, taking her panties off. The sight is nothing short of perfectly depraved. Her frame looks even more appetizing towering over you, but sadly (or not), you’re not the one in control here.

Her undergarment comes off easily, and now she’s holding it. She’s looking at it, contemplating, before a light bulb in her head is switched on.

“You want this?” she asks, lowering her panties close to your nose. You can smell the raw aroma of her cunt. It’s so hypnotic.

You nod sheepishly, and she grins wickedly before pressing the cloth onto your nose. Your air becomes the bewitching scent of her pussy. Your inhales grow deeper, wanting to take in all of her smell. She’s musky. She’s tart. She’s making your brain go haywire.

You hear her laugh mischievously. Her eyes are darkened with pure desire. You couldn’t have asked for a better situation to be in right now.

“Keep it on your nose while I ride this cock,” Yooyeon orders sternly. You nod, her panties still on your face.

She then slowly lowers herself. You feel her wet heat hovering above your throbbing manhood. Her red and white skirt covers the nice view, but you’d argue that it’s hotter this way, with her panties on your nose also and all. Your breathing grows even more erratic. So does hers. Her hands find purchase on your chest, almost drawing blood from you. It hurts, but you couldn’t give less fuck about it.

The first contact between your cock and her cunt makes you two form a cacophony with your moans. She welcomes you with such tightness that makes your eyes flutter in ecstasy, while your size stretches her cunt out so wide that she moans.

“Goddamn–shit! You’re so fucking big!” she shouts, eyes looking into the ceiling. Someone is going to hear that, even with these thick walls.

She goes even deeper on your cock. You two groan in pure bliss as she impales her cunt with you. Pleasure shocks through you like electricity. The sensation that’s hugging around your cock is just so unreal. Her eyes point towards the ceiling. She’s really enjoying this.

“You feel so much better than my dildo, holy fuck!” Her words only serve to heighten your arousal, making your body quiver even more, as she sinks down on your cock. She’s going to reach the hilt.

And you feel it, her warm ass touching your balls. She’s at the hilt. You’re fully inside her. Her eyes flutter. Her body spasms. Her moans stutter.

“F–F–Fuck, goddd,” cries Yooyeon. She’s loving your cock. She stays there, savoring every second of your cock inside her entrance. She’s sitting on your lap.

“Y–You know, I’ve been waiting on this day for so f–fucking long,” she says, still gripping on your chest tightly. Her face flushes. “I’ve been doing a lot to make you look, you know?”

“Well, I’m look–”

Yooyeon cuts your train of words with a finger inside your mouth, silencing you. You know what to do: sucking on it like a whore.

“Should’ve known that all it takes for you is an egg.” She lets out a chuckle. “Slut.”

You say nothing, just smiling with joy, not resisting her finger inside your mouth. The sensation pooling in your crotch is burning.

She slowly lifts herself off your cock, the feeling tells, despite her short skirt covering the act. Her breathing grows erratic, and so does yours. You and her cry out in pleasure, eyes fluttering. It feels so good.

And she impales her cunt again. The two of you groan deeply in pleasure. Her thighs ripple against yours.

“Mmm, yesss,” Yooyeon moans.

She finds her rhythm, lifting off of you, slamming her hips back down, and repeats. Your whole body feels electric, welcomed by her tight, wet cunt that grips your cock like a vice. The feeling of the friction on your length is nothing short of ecstatic. Her panties fall off from your face to the side. Her aroma is gone, but you won’t complain.

“You goddamn slut. You love my pussy, don’t you?” Yooyeon scoffs, wrapping her hands on your throat. You can barely breathe, and it’s driving you insane. She grins, and that looks so fucking frightening, but also–hot, somehow. “Bet I’m so fucking wet and tight, gripping your cock so good.”

You can only nod sheepishly to her questions, before she tightens her grip around your throat even harsher. You can’t breathe. You’re making gagging sounds. You’re so damn happy. It’s so goddamn pleasurable.

“Better breed me to make up for that time lost, understand?” she orders, and you just nod along with her words again.

She lifts her hands off your throat. It’s nice to finally get some air again. She picks up her pace on your cock. It becomes reckless now. You’re letting out guttural groans and whimpers, and she’s rejoicing in your pleasure.

Her motions become turbulent. Your cock is now sore from all the riding she’s doing. Still, you’re more than happy to let her use you like this. You’re more than happy to let her own your little ass.

She sucks a sudden, before uttering, “G–Gonna cum.”

“M–Me t–too, nghhnn.”

“Don’t you dare fucking cum before me, alright? I don’t want your cock to go soft before I squirt on this–” she then wanders her hand over your willing body, feeling every single curve and contour she can find, making you whimper “–little body of yours.”

Yooyeon giggles, before ramping up her pace. She plunges her fingers into your welcoming mouth once more, and you’re sucking them like a whore. She lets out grunts and groans, bouncing on your cock. The friction on your cock is just too pleasant. Then, there’s the smell of her body, now slick with sweat. You’re too happy to take it in. She’s pungent. Your eyes are fluttering from the overwhelming sensation.

She lets out a fair bunch of profanities, mostly calling you a slut (which you’d happily admit you are). Then, there come the signals. Her body spasms. Her walls contract. You can just feel it.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum.”

“Wh–Wha–”

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

She arches backwards, showing off her toned abs. A torrent of liquid sprays out of her cunt onto your stomach. Her body writhes on top of you before collapsing into your embrace. Her loud, aggressive groans fill your ear.

“Wh–What a good f–fucking cock,” she mutters with any of the energy she has left. Exhaustion catches her, but you can’t stop now. It’s your turn.

With your remaining stamina, you thrust up into her sensitive cunt. Both of your moans form a cacophony that fills the room, along with the sound of flesh slapping into each other.

“Goddd~” Yooyeon groans. You’re hammering into her with reckless abandon. Her body vibrates with each of your thrust. “I’m not letting you cum outside, slut. I’ve been waiting for this for too long.”

She then inserts her fingers into your mouth again, to which you’re happy to suck on them like you’re her slut (you’re her slut). Your hips are still pumping your cock into her.

And it comes, the impending doom, the storm. The familiar feeling is building up inside your loins. You’re going to cum inside Yooyeon!

“G–Gonna cum.”

“C–Cum inside me, cum inside me,” she orders, eyes staring into yours. She wants this. She needs this.

And you break. Your whole body quivers. Your cock shoots ropes and ropes of cum into her pussy. It twitches and twitches within her. Yooyeon bends forward to capture you in a deep kiss, piercing her dexterous tongue into your mouth. Her hands grip onto the sides of your face tightly. The lewd sound of the kiss fills your ear. Fuck, this feels so good.

The orgasm slowly dies down, though still leaving a lasting effect on your cock that’s twitching inside of her. Yooyeon pulls back from the kiss, finally. A string of saliva connecting your lips can be seen. She pants, looking up at the ceiling. Sweat runs down her face. She looks so ethereal in the afterglow.

“Fuck,” she utters, unable to catch her breath. Her breathing is still out of rhythm.

You can only smile, watching her almost naked on top of you like this. It’s a sight.

Yooyeon then collapses down against your body. Her skin is slicked from all the sweat from the fucking. You can feel her fast heartbeat on your chest. Your cock is still buried deep inside of her.

She then drags herself off of your now-flaccid cock. You groan at the sensitivity you’re feeling. She only giggles at you in response.

“Let me go to the bathroom first, and maybe, maybe, we can go for another round,” she says, before getting off the bed and sauntering towards the bathroom. She strips out of her short skirt on the way, finally giving you the view of her plump ass you’ve been craving.

It’s going to be a long night.

—

#yooyeon #triples #yooyeon smut #triples smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

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thargelalia · 18 days ago

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see you in hell, baby

jason todd x fem!reader

Dick naively expects Jason to help him stay in your good graces as the MVP brother-in-law

-> 1.4k words

-> fluff, poor attempt at humor

-> warnings: none, the dynamic duo being dorks together perhaps?

please, reblog if you like or the author will cry

There's nothing better than to enjoy the vast collection of classics at the Wayne Manor library on a rare peaceful Sunday afternoon.

Or is it?

“Jaybird, hey!” Dick greets his younger brother, a little more excited than usual, as he saunters into the library. “Have you.. uhh, is my BFF around?”

He’s scanning around the place like you could emerge from behind the couches or bookshelves at any given moment. Judging by his tone, Jason can already tell Dick wants something, but chooses to ignore him, too immersed in his current book to care.

Dick looks left and right to the hallway before closing the doors, and joining Jason on the leather couch. The latter finally acknowledged his older brother to get this over with, so he can leave and Jason can read in peace.

“She went to the bathroom.. why?” Jason says, narrowing his eyes inquisitively at Dick’s fidgeting. A fake smile plastered on his face, sweat bidding on the temple. He’s obviously worried about something. “You’re being weirder than usual.. Got your pants stuffed with itching powder again?”

His lips twitch upwards a little at the memory.

“No, I— please, don’t ever remind me of that day again.” Dick winces, rubbing on his thigh to soothe an imaginary itch. Steph really goes all in on April Fool’s Day.

He clears his throat. “So, uh.. maybe, just maybe… I might’ve accidentally scratched that Beatles record sis-in-law lent to me last week.”

Jason exhales, contemplating whether he should ease Dick’s mind or not. While you were very careful and protective of your vinyl record collection, depending on which one that got damaged – and the extent of it – you might get a little upset, but let it go without much trouble.

Not before an hour lecture to the culprit about taking better care of other people’s stuff, of course.

“As long as it’s not Sergeant Pepper’s, you’ll be fine.” Jason shrugs, then chuckles to himself a little as he opens his book again. “Perhaps a kick or two to your shins.”

The silence that follows is pregnant with guilt. Jason can almost smell it in the air at the way his brother blanches next to him.

“Fuck. Don’t tell me—”

“It was an accident!”

“Dick, you insane?! It was a gift from her grandmother!” Jason chastises, smacking the book shut with a hard thud. “You damaged an original copy from the seventies, you fucking idiot!”

Dick slides down on the couch, a pout taking over his lips. “I know!”

“Can’t believe she let you borrow it.” Jason huffs, crossing his arms while shaking his head indignantly.

Dick has his hands on his head, about ready to rip his hair out.

“I know! What do I do now??”

“Well… for starters,” Jason begins dead serious, leaning towards Dick, who straightens his posture, desperate to hear a solution, “when was the last time you updated your last will and testament?”

“Shit.” Dick falls into the cushions, a desolated sigh leaving the depths of his soul. “Not helping, man.”

“Maybe Bruce can recycle my gravestone,” Jason continues, tapping his chin in fake thought, “what about an epitaph? Sure you’ve got some ideas.”

As always, any comment remotely related to his death has all the bats squirming or tensing like they’ve been poked by Catwoman’s sharp claws – which most of them have, in fact. They tend to feel uneasy whenever Jason makes his grim jokes.

And perhaps that’s exactly why he does it.

“Please, don’t talk like that,” Dick says softly, furrowing his eyebrows. Then, he changes his demeanor completely. “And yes, I do. Here lies Gotham’s hottest piece of ass. S.I.P.”

Jason gives him an unimpressed look, lifting his eyebrow. “S.I.P?”

His brother smiles as if he was dying to be asked that. “Sashay in peace.”

“Hope you make a safe passage, disco queen.” Jason deadpans. “Make sure to head straight to heaven, though. Don’t wanna put up with your glittery ass in hell, too.”

Dick seems to suddenly remember why he was there in the first place. He grabs his younger brother by the shoulders, and shakes frantically. “This is serious, Jaybird! What now? I’ll lose my ‘favorite brother-in-law’ privileges!”

Jason kisses his teeth in annoyance, immediately releasing himself from Dick’s grasp, and pushing on his chest with zero delicacy. “You never had those.”

Anyone other than Dick — and Bruce — would’ve splattered themselves on the cushions at being on the receiving end of Jason’s hard shove. But his older brother only tilts back, and recovers his posture like a roly-poly toy. An impressive display of sheer core strength.

“Yes, I did. I do. Remember her last seminar? She only had one other seat aside from yours, and she chose to invite me.” He points at himself, sounding smug. “And what about the wine she got me from her trip to France? Or the tequila from Mexico, huh?”

“The others aren’t old enough to drink.” Jason points out, groaning as he massages his temples. This conversation is getting tiresome. Baby, where are you? He thinks in exasperation. Dealing with his family outside patrol is easier when you’re right next to him.

Dick freezes, his index finger lifted in the air.

He lowers it, closing his mouth.

Then, he raises it again, attempting to hide his wounded pride.

“That’s not the point! The point is—”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” Jason cuts him off, waving impatiently before he adds dryly, “too late for that, though. Replacement joined her Public Health research group last month. She’s invited him to dinner at our place twice now, unfortunately.”

There’s a shocked gasp.

“Not to mention the little demon asking her for help with his school projects, even though everyone knows he’s damn well capable of handling himself.”

An even bigger gasp leaves Dick’s lips, this time followed by a dramatic hand to his chest.

Jason rolls his eyes. “Will you fucking stop?”

“I need to amp up my game. Urgently.”

“Good luck with that. Not sure you can—”

Jason’s interrupted by the sound of the doors opening. The scowl on his face immediately dissolves into a relieved look at your return. Meanwhile, his brother appears as if he’s staring at a ghost.

You smile, tipping your head up. “Hey, Dick! What’s up?”

“Heeey, bestie!” He shoots up from the couch, sounding extremely unnatural as he glances at the watch on his wrist. “I–um.. Damn! I gotta pick up Babs at her friend’s house now. See you guys later!”

With a quick kiss to your cheek, he breezes past you and out the doors like he’s suddenly been possessed by Wally West.

“What was that?” You turn from the door to your boyfriend, giving him a puzzled look.

Jason contemplates for a brief moment whether he should tell the truth or not. More out of concern over you, as he’d hate to upset you, than over Dick’s sake obviously. But if you found out later that he knew about this fuckup, he’d join his brother’s body in the graveyard. And Jason is very much enjoying his second chance at life right now.

“Dick ruined your Sergeant Pepper’s record.” Just as predicted, he doesn’t feel the slightest bit of remorse for snitching on his older brother. Jason wishes he’d broken the news in a better way, but he let his eagerness for throwing Dick under the bus override his judgment.

Much to his surprise, you don’t show any expressive reaction aside from the slight purse of your lips.

“You’re talking about the scratch?” You ask simply, joining him on the burgundy couch as he opens an arm to envelop you in a half embrace.

He tilts his head to rest against yours. “You’ve seen it already?”

“It was there before he got it. Probably happened during my last move out.”

“Oh. Oh.”

“Poor Dick. I told him my grandma loved that record… He must be feeling like trash.” A sigh escapes your lips as you lean against Jason’s chest. “You should probably tell him when he comes back.”

“Baby, I’m not telling anything.” Jason laughs wickedly, taking your hand in his large one and bringing it up to his lips. The tender kiss offers a stark contrast against the disapproval in his tone. “Serves him right for not being watchful enough.”

“You’re so evil, Jace.” You tilt your head up, so he can see the playful glint in your eyes. “There’s no place for you in heaven, you know that, right?”

Jason eyes you in disbelief. “Are you planning on telling him?”

The pressing of your lips together is already enough to answer him – a futile attempt to conceal a mischievous smile.

“That’s what I thought.” He pulls you to sit sideways on his thighs, arms tightening around your waist as he leans in to kiss your neck. Lips lingering there as his voice lowers in a way that makes you shiver when he says, “guess we’ll both be sharing Satan's throne as you sit on my lap in hell, baby.”

A/N: I wanna be Jason's boo, and Dick's bestie so bad y'all!!

Remember to reblog, and let me know your thoughts if you liked. It helps me stay motivated to post on here <33

divider is from here

#jason todd fanfic #jason todd x reader #jason todd fluff #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #dc fanfic #jason todd x y/n #dc imagine #red hood fanfiction #jason todd loves his gf #red hood x reader #dc x reader #dc x you #dc fanfiction

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vanteguccir · 9 months ago

Text

── ୨୧ !　𝟱 𝗖𝗨𝗧𝗘 𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗠𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦

　　　　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Chris is deeply in love with Y/N and isn't ashamed to show it; OR, 5 cute little moments between Chris and Y/N.

WARNING: Making out (4).

REQUESTED?: Yes, by @ecliphttlunar, @smileymilee and anons.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

1. Surprise on tour

A mixture of nervousness and euphoria coursed freely through Chris's veins as he prepared to enter the stage. The boy discovered after his first tour alongside his brothers that the sensations of being on a stage, surrounded by people who adore him, were very similar to the sensation of an orgasm. And he loved it.

As soon as the lights came up and the opening song started playing, he found himself fully immersed in the energy of the crowd.

While he and his brothers went through their usual fan interactions, Chris couldn't get Y/N out of his mind. He wanted her to be there with him, sharing this special moment with him and his brothers.

When it was time to take the break to talk to the fans again, Chris took a few seconds to survey the crowd in front of him, sweeping his blue eyes over each head he saw.

Until he founded her.

He frowned automatically, squinting his eyes into thin lines to try and see better, quickly realizing that it wasn't his mind playing tricks on him, Y/N was really there.

"Wait! Wait, can I- Oh my God." Chris interrupted Nick, who was speaking into his own microphone, raising his right hand towards his brother and holding it in the air, telling him to shut up silently. "Baby? Is that... Is that really you?"

Y/N - who was surrounded by fans who recognized her the moment she appeared there - felt her cheeks take on a reddish hue almost instantly, her eyes filling with tears from being able to interact in person with Chris after so many weeks apart.

The girl knew he couldn't hear her even if she screamed, so she just nodded, a huge smile decorating her face.

"Is Y/N here?" Matt's voice sounded over the speaker, his body moving closer to his brother's as he tried to find her in his line of sight. “Oh, hey, Y/N!”

"Guys, my amazing girlfriend, Y/N, is here with us tonight!" Chris shouted into the microphone, raising his free hand and waving his fingers in the air in euphoria, holding himself back from jumping in place.

The crowd erupted in applause and cheers as Chris explained how Y/N wasn't going on tour with them because of her studies. His voice could barely hide his excitement when talking about her, the volume having a constant fight with the loud volume of the fans' screams.

"Wow, it feels like I haven't seen you in weeks." Chris teased, throwing a wink her way.

Nick's laugh was heard right next to him, his voice echoing through the speaker with a random comment that Chris didn't try to understand, his eyes fixed on his girl as his heart overflowed with love.

"You look prettier than ever, babe." Chris flirted, his tongue escaping between his lips and wetting them as his ears were filled again by the euphoric screams of the crowd.

Y/N could only laugh out loud in nervousness and shyness, her red cheeks glowing under the colored lights. Some fans around her made funny comments about the situation, joking - or not - about how they wanted to be in her place.

It was safe to say that the night of the show was filled with comments and flirtations from Chris directed at Y/N, the boy having to hold himself back for long minutes to not run down the stage towards his girl arms.

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2. Mispronounciation

"Is that açaí, Nick?" Chris's question caught Y/N's attention, who took her eyes off the nugget shelves she was analyzing in one of the freezers a few steps away from the triplets, now focusing on them.

"Did I hear açaí?" Her voice echoed in excitement, her hands quickly grabbing the package of nuggets that she liked the most before returning to the boys, placing it inside the cart with the other frozen products before standing next to Nick, analyzing the container in his hands. "Oh, it is! I want it, please?"

"Of course, we'll take it." Nick quickly responded, nodding his head as he turned, facing the cart and allowing the freezer door to close behind his back.

"Can we have condensed milk and milk powder to put in it? Oh, oh, and banana too!" The girl pleaded, her voice full of excitement as she clasped her hands in front of her chest, raising her eyes towards Chris and widening them slightly.

"Sure, babe..." Chris nodded almost instantly, unable to say no to his girl. "I still don't understand how she can have açaí with condensed milk and milk powder." He muttered only for the camera to catch it, failing miserably as his tone came out loud enough for Y/N and his brothers to hear it.

"Hey! It's the only right way to have açaí, okay?" Y/N argued, rolling her eyes playfully and turning back to the cart, arranging the container next to the other frozen products, as she did with the nuggets, being the type of girl that liked to organize her groceries.

"Guys, look! It's prepackaged, but we did find some asparagus." Matt interrupted the silence seconds after, rescuing the medium package of asparagus and quickly showing it to the lens with a proud smile on his face.

"I love aspargos so much. Your cooking will be the best in this series you guys are making, Matt." Y/N murmured, smiling big and pointing with her chin at the package while Matt put it back on its place.

"What did you say?" Nick asked with a frown. Being a little away from the three made it difficult for him to understand what they were saying, and it worsened with her pronunciation.

"Um... aspargos?" The girl repeated, frowning in confusion.

"The pronunciation is wrong, babe. You say it like s-par-gus." Chris corrected gently, lowering the camera slightly and watching her with caring eyes.

He loved the little pronunciation mistakes his girl made. He understood that she was still learning English and that her Brazilian accent could make it difficult to say one word and another, and all that made him fall in love again every day.

"Oh." Y/N bit her lower lip lightly, feeling her cheeks heat up in embarrassment, receiving an encouraging smile from Matt, who watched them silently while Nick was still collecting products from that aisle.

"Hey, it's okay, pretty girl. It's just one word, let's try it together, okay?" Chris assured her, handing the camera to Matt and approaching his girlfriend, taking her hands and squeezing her fingers gently.

The girl nodded, maintaining her eyes on her boyfriend's face before focusing them on his lips, watching him saying the word again before trying it herself.

"S-par-gus. Asparagus." She repeated slowly, trying to imitate the pronunciation and accent Chris had shown her, finally saying it correctly.

"That's it, babe. You did it!" Chris smiled big, his voice echoing louder than before and euphoria exuding from his body. He quickly pulled her into a big hug, sealing the right side of her forehead with his lips for long seconds.

extra - comments:

"It's so incredible to see how Y/N has evolved every day with her english pronunciation 🥺"

"the way Chris is patient and kind in correcting her 😭"

"Chris helping Y/N pronounce the word in the right way was the best thing I've seen today 😔✋🏻"

"I agree with her, açaí with condensed milk and milk powder is the best thing in the world 🤭"

"have a boyfriend who supports you like Chris does for Y/N 😫😫"

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3. Euphoric mood

It was a busy day for Chris and his brothers. They were rushing from one appointment to another, trying to keep up with all the demands of the channel and their brands. However, what would normally be a busy day became even more chaotic due to Chris's uncontrollable euphoria.

From the moment he woke up, Chris was in full hyperactivity mode. He talked nonstop, jumping from one topic to another with dizzying rapidity. His brothers were beginning to get irritated by his incessant energy, unable to keep up with the frantic pace of his thoughts.

"Chris, bro, you need to calm down a little." Matt muttered, frowning as he tried to keep up with his brother's rapid-fire conversation.

"No, wait! I spoke to a friend who is going to medical school, Josh, you know him." Chris ignored him, continuing to speak without slowing down, his words coming out jumbled. "And if you had a broken bone or a sprain, you'd know already, you know? It's been so long since-"

"Chris, slow down." Nick shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb, feeling overwhelmed by the torrent of information coming out of Chris's mouth since hours before.

Chris stopped abruptly, looking at his brothers with a mixture of surprise and confusion.

"What? I'm just trying to help!"

Matt sighed, straightening in his seat on the couch, trying to find the right words to express his frustration.

"Chris, we understand you're trying to help me with my ankle, but you're driving us crazy with all this energy. We need a moment."

Before Chris could say anything, Y/N - who was in the kitchen preparing an afternoon snack for them - turned from her place and walked slowly into the living room, her hands holding a metal tray with the food, watching the scene with understanding eyes. She had noticed Chris's agitated state since the beginning of the day and knew it was time to intervene.

"Chris, honey." She called softly, placing the tray on the television stand and approaching him. "Why don't you sit down for a bit and relax? You're stressing yourself out."

"But baby, Matt has been in pain for days and doesn't want to take care of the problem, so I'm coming with the solution." Chris directed his gaze at her, frowning and crossing his arms like a child.

"I know, my love, and I think the boys understand that too. Why don't we watch something for a while? Your day was tiring as well. Maybe a little rest will help everyone, okay?" Y/N smiled gently, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

She guided him to the couch and made him sit with his back against the soft backrest, sitting next to him and raising her right hand, taking it to his head, stroking his hair gently with her long nails. Chris felt instantly calmer, his frantic mind slowing down.

Nick and Matt watched in surprise and amusement as Y/N calmed Chris with her simple presence and caring gesture. They never got tired of seeing the gigantic effect the girl had on their brother.

"Are you a magician or something?" Nick teased, earning a middle finger from Chris and a laugh from Y/N in response before finally grabbing his lunch from the tray.

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4. Making out session

Chris and Y/N were lying together in their bed, wrapped in a soft blanket as they watched an old romantic comedy movie on the television. The soft light from the screen illuminated their faces as they snuggled together, enjoying the tranquility and intimacy of the moment.

As the movie progressed, Chris felt his heart beating faster as his closeness to Y/N seemed to be more palpable. No matter how many years they had been together, Chris always felt like it was still the beginning of the relationship, or, as they say, the honeymoon phase.

His blue eyes found her side profile, admiring the softness of her features and the sparkle in her eyes as she was absorbed in the story of the couple in front of them.

Without thinking, the boy moved his hand, reaching for hers and intertwining their fingers. Y/N smiled softly at the gesture, lightly squeezing his hand, conveying comfort and affection without saying a word.

The girl turned her face towards him, feeling his eyes burning into her for long minutes, ready to question him if he was still interested in the story, but her words caught in her throat when she saw the intensity of his gaze.

She knew that look.

Their eyes remained connected for long seconds, the sound of the television becoming muffled to their ears. With one smooth movement, Chris slid his free hand up to Y/N's face, caressing her warm cheek with his fingers in an almost ghost touch. He felt the softness of her skin under his, losing himself in the comforting sensation.

Y/N sighed softly, closing her eyes and pending her head against his hand, enjoying the gentle affection. In one quick movement, Chris got closer to her face, leaning towards her. Their noses met lightly, the boy caressing the area lightly in an eskimo kiss before adjusting his position, their lips finally meeting in a slow and gentle kiss, filled with tenderness and desire.

They explored each other gently, their kiss slowly gaining a rhythms as they gave in to the intimacy of the moment. There was no rush, just the sweet feeling of being together.

Chris's warm tongue caressed her lower lip in a silent request for entrance, which was quickly granted, their tongues intertwining in a wet and skillful kiss.

The boy raised his free hand to the back of Y/N's head, his thumb pressing the tip of her jaw, caressing the hot and flushed skin tenderly, feeling drunk by the natural scent of her body as they surrendered to the heat of the moment. Their hearts beat in unison, a symphony of love and desperation.

In one swift movement, Y/N moved under the blanket that covered their legs, strategically climbing into his lap and sitting on his gray sweatpants covered thighs, her legs wrapping around his hips securely. She moved her hands to his shoulders, tilting her torso slightly and deepening the kiss with the new position.

External sounds disappeared for the two, only the sound of their rapid and choppy breaths echoing in their ears, creating a warm bubble around them.

Chris's hands traveled over Y/N's body in a slow and sensual way, finding home on her hips and tracing imaginary shapes with the tip of his fingers above the thin fabric of her panties, lightly squeezing the area, a low moan escaping the girl's throat.

When the air began to run out, they reluctantly separated, their eyes closed while their tongues still savored the fresh taste of each other that predominated their mouths. Y/N leaned her forehead against his, lightly pressing their noses together as she caught her breath.

When her eyes finally opened, her first sight was Chris's swollen-lipped smirk.

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5. Trying to match my boyfriend eating

Y/N's phone camera was already open, and the device rested on the nightstand on her side of the bed, propped up against the pink lamp so that the screen pointed towards her and, consequently, Chris, who would sit next to her.

The girl smiled at the front camera after clicking the red record button, settling back down on the mattress, waiting for Chris, who would return soon with the burgers they had ordered for delivery to eat while they watched a movie.

The sound of the door opening echoed through the room some minutes after, and the girl quickly lifted her gaze towards the source, smiling widely when she saw her boyfriend with the large paper bag in one of his hands.

She quickly took it from him, opening it in one quick movement and taking out the burgers, fries, and sodas, individually separating the ones that were hers and the ones that were his.

"Hungry, babe?" Chris asked with a smile in his voice, a nasal laugh following his sentence as he settled into bed next to her, retrieving his burger quickly.

"You have no idea." The girl murmured, taking advantage of the fact that Chris was unwrapping his lunch as if it were the most precious thing in the world to quickly look at her phone, winking at the camera, unwrapping her own burger.

Y/N wasted no time, noticing from the corner of her eyes her boyfriend already taking the first bite, quickly following him. She tried to bite off a piece in the same size as his, but her attempt was futile, only getting half of it, which was already too much for her.

Chris chewed the piece without any problems, leaning forward slightly and reaching for the remote control that was in the middle of the bed, quickly picking it up and clicking the play button, resuming the movie where they stopped before the food arrived, his mouth working on taking another bite without even looking at his burger.

Y/N's eyes widened, forcing herself to swallow what was still in her mouth so she could take more, this time a little bigger than the last. She found it difficult to chew as quickly as Chris did, closing her eyes tightly as she tried, futilely, to concentrate on swallowing as quickly as possible.

A cough escaped her throat, muffled by her closed lips, but catching the boy's attention, who looked up at her with his brow furrowed in confusion.

His blue eyes widened comically at the sight of her cheeks inflated because of the food and trying to chew, a loud laugh escaping his lips.

"Babe, what the fuck are you doing? Slow down." The brunette adverted, wrapping his burger again and leaving it on the bed - away from his legs so as not to run the risk of crushing it.

He leaned toward her, patting her back lightly with his right hand while his left reached for her Diet Coke, touching the end of the straw to her closed lips.

Chris watched her carefully and with worried eyes, waiting for her to swallow the food, finally taking a few slow sips of the sweet drink.

"I'm sorry." Y/N whispered, a small smile decorating her face along with her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "It was supposed to be a TikTok, but you eat too quickly."

The boy shook his head in confusion, running his eyes around the room and quickly finding his girl's phone recording them.

"Your food will run away or something?"

"Shut up."

taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @ksskianshd @soimightlikeoldmen69 @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @soso-scarlettolivia @sturnolio-luvs @bitchydragonparadise @lvrsturn @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @patscorner @strnilolo @bernardsbendystraws @mattsneezing @poetatorturadaa @meg-sturniolo @orangeypepsi

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bucks-babe · 1 year ago

Text

Virgin Bucky Gets His First Blowjob

Paring: Virgin!Bucky x f!reader

Summary: You give your boyfriend his first blowjob

Word Count: 2,148

Warnings: Established relationship, smut (Oral m!receiving), kind of sub!Bucky, Bucky is a nervous boy and gets a hard on during a movie, Bucky has a praise kink, Virgin!Bucky, No use of Y/N

A/N: Should I make a part 2 where Bucky loses his virginity to reader?

“Okay, doll, I’ve got everything set up. You pick a movie yet?” Bucky settles down next to you in his bed, making sure that there is no space separating the two of you. He wraps his right arm around your shoulder and you snuggle up into his side.

Your laptop is resting on both of your laps, your left thigh and his right thigh hold it in place. “Yes, and it’s one of my favorites!” You bounce in place just a little. “You’re gonna love it, Buck! It’s When Harry Met Sally.” Bucky chuckles at your excitement. Steve has his book of things to catch up with in the 21st century, and Bucky has you.

“We’ll see, doll. You haven’t let me down yet.” In all honesty, Bucky was thoroughly enjoying the movie, Harry wasn’t the type of guy Bucky thought girls would go for, but most of his enjoyment came from how happy the movie seemed to be making you.

A few times you would catch Bucky staring at you instead of the movie; each time you would look back up at him he would pretend that he was immersed in the movie the whole time and you would nudge his side. It just made him so happy to see how much you were enjoying the movie, going so far as to mouth the lines alone with the actors.

“Yes it is! You are a human affront to all women, and I am a woman.”

“Hey, I don’t feel great about this, but I don’t hear anyone complaining.”

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky is having the time of his life watching you act out the conversations, his heart never feeling so full in all his life. He truly doesn’t know what he did to deserve you, after all the horrible things he’s done in his life, he gets blessed with the most wonderful and understanding woman to call his.

His doll, his girl, who hasn’t even pressured him into anything. He felt bad at first, when he told you that he wanted to take things slow, thinking that you wouldn’t want to have a boyfriend who had no experience in the sexual realm. Of course, he’s kissed women, having his fair share of dames back in the 40’s, but he was a gentleman. He would take them out dancing, maybe make out in his car a little bit, but he never went farther than that.

Now, after waking up after 80 some years, the last thing on his mind was having sex. That was until he met you, the minx who has awoken something inside of him, but he’s never acted on any of these feelings, too scared that he would disappoint you.

Ashamed that he was still a virgin, Bucky always stopped you before anything would get too heated, and you respected that. It didn’t make Bucky feel any better when he had to go to the ‘bathroom’ after a make-out session, but you never teased him about it, the both of you pretending that he really did need to go to the bathroom.

What the fuck?! Bucky’s attention is back on the movie when Sally has an ‘orgasm’ in the restaurant. Next to him, you’re giggling while watching her fake an orgasm, but Bucky, he’s not laughing.

Bucky’s never seen a woman have an orgasm. Back in his day, the most accessible type of porn were dirty magazines that he used to hide under his bed so his ma wouldn’t find them. He tried to watch modern day porn after his not so mini sexual re-awakening, but after seeing some of the video titles, decided that porn was a no go for him, so this was sending all of the blood in his head straight to his dick. If it was over dramatized, he couldn’t tell, but his cock didn’t care.

He felt it twitching in his sweats and he tried to subtly shift so you wouldn’t be able to see the bulge under the covers. Closing his eyes, Bucky tried to will his erection away; however, the scene seemed to never end and his cock got even harder at the thought of what you would look like when you came, how you would moan his name, how you would feel around him.

He bets that you would look fucking spectacular spread out on this very bed with his cock burried deep inside of you. How your pussy would look swallowing him as he–

“Bucky, are you okay? You’re moving around a lot.” Shit! Bucky knows that he’s been caught. There is nothing he can do to hide the tent in his sweatpants; he curses himself for even wearing pants with so much give to them.

“Uh…yeah, I’m good. My back’s a little stiff from the bed is all.” With how red his face and chest are, it’s a surprise that there is enough blood going to his dick to have it be as hard as it is.

“Your back? Are you sure? Cause I think I see the problem.” Double Shit!

“Doll, I’m sorry. It’s just that…” Your giggle cuts him off.

“Bucky, it’s okay. If you want I can give you a minute to sort,” you glance at his crotch, making it twitch in need, “that out.”

Bucky wishes that the bed could swallow him up whole so he wouldn’t have to deal with this. He’s a grown man for God’s sake and he’s popping wood at the first sign of something sexual!

“Or…” You drag on, “I could help you with that.” Bucky gulps, finding his throat to be drier than a desert.

“Doll, y-you don’t have to.” There’s a spark in your eye that you only have when you’re up to no good, like when you set Steve and Sharron up on a blind date after being sick of the pining between the two of them.

“But I want to, Bucky. Only if you’re okay with it.” His heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest, but he is so hard, and he trusts you with his body and soul.You know that he’s never done anything; you would be the last person on the planet to make fun of him.

“O-okay. What do you want me to do, doll?” You close the laptop, effectively ending the movie; Bucky couldn’t give less of a shit what happens to Harry or Sally right now, not when you’re looking at him like he is a full course meal and you're starving.

“Absolutely nothing. I want you to lay right there and let me make you feel good. Can you do that for me, hmm?” Pulling the covers back, you settle between his thick thighs, resting your head on one and looking up at him.

“I-I can do that. Yeah.” He shifts so that his back is against the headboard. Bucky isn’t used to just laying back while someone else does the work, has never been like that, but for you he would do just about anything if you asked.

Your hands go to the waistband of his sweats and boxers while you give small kisses to the outline of his cock through both layers. “Good boy,” you whisper on his cock, chuckling when it jerks under your mouth and he whines. Ooh, he’s a vocal one, you think as you look up at his flush face.

Bucky lifts his hips off the bed when you tug at his waistband, and his cock smacks against his clothed stomach, precum leaking onto his shirt. With his cock and balls on display, Bucky fights the urge to close his legs and cover himself up; no woman, or man, had ever seen him like this, but he wants this so bad. He trusts you; if he wants to stop, you’ll stop, but heaven forbid if you stop now.

He’s fucking big, too. You don’t know if you’re going to be able to fit his entire length in your mouth, but you’re sure as hell gonna try! Starting at his thighs, you give wet, open mouth kisses, leaving beautiful bruises on his skin. Whimpering, Bucky tries to get your mouth on his cock; all of your teasing is only making his balls fuller than he thought was possible and more precum ruin his shirt.

“Please, doll. Suck it.” His toned hips leave the bed in chase of your mouth. He can’t count how many times he’s fucked his fist thinking about how the tight heat of your mouth would feel wrapped around his cock. Even now, with you kissing up and down his length, tracing his most prominent vein, it’s not enough.

“Shh, big boy, I’m getting there. You’re just so pretty I have to paint you.” His cock bounces from the force of its throbbing and another whine leaves his plump lips.

Eventually, you take pity on him and his begging, and you take the tip in your mouth and give it a harsh suck. “Oh Fuck! Do that again, doll!” He throws his head back, making contact with the headboard with a loud thunk. Hands flying to the sheets, and hips chasing your mouth, Bucky damn near chokes on his own spit.Christ, you’ve barely touched him and he’s about to burst.

Loving his reaction, you grab the base of him and spit on his tip, watching it roll down to where your hand rests, only to use your spit as lube to drag your hand up and down, feeling him pulse and throb in your hand. “Come on, doll. Please! I need more.”

He was fisting the sheets, not wanting to force your head down, but wanting you to take him down your throat at the same time. Deciding not to torture him anymore, you licked your lips before taking as much length in you mouth as possible.

“GOD, FUCK!” His hips flew up to meet your mouth, making you gag. He was trying his hardest to stay in control and not force your pace, but fuck, he wasn’t expecting it to feel this good. You quickly found a steady pace, hollowing your cheeks and using your tongue to lap at his dick. Salavia coated his entire dick and was leaking down to his balls, making your movements that much easier.“What the fuck! Doll, that feels fucking incredible. More, please. Give me more! Shit! That feels so good!” Such a needy little thing.

There were still a few inches of his dick that you couldn’t fit in your mouth, so you used one hand to work the remaining length and the other hand to massage his balls. His cock was leaking precum and you could feel his heavy sack tense up in your hand; you knew he was about to cum, even before he did.

Bucky pulled you off his cock. “Doll! I’m gonna cum!” It took you a second to register why he pulled you off when he was about to cum, but you then realized, he didn’t think you wanted to swallow - How wrong he was.

“If you’re gonna cum, baby, I want you to cum in my mouth.” Not waiting for a response, you took his cock back into your mouth, taking him all the way to the base, letting him fuck your mouth with the little jerks of his hips. The sounds leaving his mouth were almost akin to sobs, making you clench your thighs together to quell the ache between your legs.

“Fuck, I’m cumming!” His cum shot out in thick streams and you tried to swallow around his cock, but more and more cum would shoot out. You lapped up every single drop of his cum that you could, some of it dripping down to his balls. When his hips tried to jerk away, you pulled off his cock to lick his balls clean and tuck his softening cock back into his pants.

With a dopey look on his face, Bucky gave you the prettiest smile, having experienced the best orgasm of his overextended life. “I really liked the movie, doll.” He laughed after you giggled. After coming back down to reality, Bucky frowned, “doll, I wanna make you cum, too.”

“Oh, Buck, I didn’t do that because I wanted anything in return,” you repositioned yourself next to him in bed, ignoring the throbbing of your pussy, “I did it because I wanted to make you feel good.”

There’s still a pout on his lips, wanting you to feel good as well. “Another day, Bucky. I don’t want to overwhelm you with too much in one day, okay?” Eventually, he agrees, becoming compliant after getting his soul sucked out of his body.

“Next time, doll, you’re gonna teach me how to make you cum.” God, you love this man.

“Oh, I look forward to it.” This man is going to wreck you and you can’t wait.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky imagine #bucky smut #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #sebastian stan x reader #Virgin!bucky #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan imagine #bucky barnes drabble

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