#but hey look at least this time I’ll color in their clothes so

[geisterland]

Might draw the rest of the BRICS countries (minus Brazil and Russia cuz I’ve drawn these two recently) soon… Want to take another crack at their designs.

[zhongrin]

so that even the world does not doubt that you are mine

— aka their ways to stake their 'claim' on you (in a cute and wholesome way)

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, ayato, childe, xiao, diluc, wanderer, cyno, al haitham

◇ tags ◇ teeth-rotting stomach-hurting fluff, dragon!li, childe calls himself your puppy

◇ a/n ◇ *throws this at yall after the angst last week* HERE'S YOUR THERAPY BILLS /j

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

aside from the obvious way he gravitates around you whenever you’re in public - sometimes with his arm resting on your back and other times with yours looped around his - zhongli never does tell you but he has a little ritual he never fails to perform every morning before he goes his merry way to the funeral parlor.

they do not look like much from a normal person’s perspective, but had you listened religiously to all the tales he told you throughout your relationship, you would have understood the ancient gestures’ meanings to the dragons of the olden days.

today too is no exception; he lets you run your delicate fingers up his proud, battle-scarred horns as you clean them before moving on to clip his hair with his usual hairclip. at the end of it all, he thanks you with a soft nip to your nape.

“there you go. all set. thank you, dearest. have a good day, and i’ll see you again at lunch later, yes?”

ayato believes that the way one dresses - at least in public that is - could make or break a business deal or a potential ally, therefore, he always upholds himself to dress sophistically at all times. and while he normally does not force you to follow this belief, the number of clothing articles and the finest accessories gracing your doorstep could get a little burdensome…

but the moment he sees you out and about with that specific haori he custom-tailored just for you, its color scheme and the fine embroidery literally screaming ‘kamisato clan’? hmmm… perhaps if wearing them would make him this happy, you should consider doing it more often?

“that haori looks lovely on you, darling. hmm? people were being more polite than usual today, you say? haha, i’d say they were besotted by your loveliness, dear. soft blues and whites have always looked good on you, afterall.”

childe might be a good actor, but sadly his subordinates are not.

so it really isn’t a surprise when, after befriending the harbinger, you open your door to see a fatui agent conspicuously spying on you right across your lawn.

and when you started dating?

it got worse.

it didn’t even take you a full day to count all five agents trailing after you like lost puppies. you would have thought they learned to disguise themselves after all these times, but no. they look horribly out of place with their huge weapons and flashy uniforms. sure, they’re fulfilling their purpose by being flashy, but you’d prefer if people don’t run away from you in fear whenever you try to talk to them!

…. it seems like it’s time to give them a crash course on how to dress and act more inconspicuously.

“did the dogs misbehave today? no? i’m glad!! ….. still, you sound like you’re getting fond of them…. hey, i’m still your number one puppy, right? right??”

there are no such things as adepti’s blessings, and yet you carry xiao’s with you everywhere you go.

not that you’re aware of it.

but it shows. it's indicated by the remnants of anemo energy trailing upon your steps. of how his trinkets clink gently against your accessories, always subtle and never too intruding, effectively shooing the evil spirits vying upon possessing your body. in the way the breeze hums gently as it listens to all of the sounds surrounding you, silently protecting, watching, vigilant.

though he might not be able to watch you 24/7, xiao will always continue to make tremendous efforts to keep you safe.

“welcome back. i’m glad you had a good day today.”

a walking contradiction, this one.

wanderer says he does not enjoy being stared at as you walk through the market, yet he scowls when people ignore him in favor of talking to you instead. he says he does not enjoy sweet food and yet he continues to kiss you, tells you that you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, silently pleading for more with the insistent chase of his lips when you retreat. he says he doesn’t feel the need to announce your relationship to the public eye, and yet the moment someone gets just a little bit too friendly with you, he’s there, almost hissing like an angry cat chancing upon a dog wagging their tail at his unsuspecting owner - his hand settles on your and his hip sticks onto yours, and if looks could kill the unfortunate soul would have been blown a thousand feet into the air and falling rapidly to its demise a hundred times over.

“…… hah! coward. shouldn't have coveted what you can’t have. stupid human. wh- the hell are you doing?! stop pinching my cheek! and how many times do i have to tell you that i’m not ‘cute’!”

him staking his claim on you? ha. elementary. no, no, no. the tcg legendary player uses an uno reverse card on this one. in everyone else’s eyes, there is no doubt that he is yours.

the way cyno wears your accessories whenever he’s out on duty (it matters not if it “doesn’t match” his aesthetics - he claims seeing it on himself gives him a sense of peace), the speech ticks and the mannerisms he adopts from you (tighnari was the one who picked up on it; he thinks it’s very adorable), the way he walks about sumeru city with a bunch of padisarahs in hand, tied with a ribbon of your favorite color (and more often than not, with a bag of your favorite drinks or snacks in his other hand)…

... and most of all, the way a gentle smile always spreads on his lips when someone mentions your name.

“[name]…………. hm…... come on, tighnari. i need to finish this job. what? you think we can get this done before dinner? that's ridiculous. we will finish it by lunchtime. now, get moving.”

diluc is so hesitant to stake his claim on you most days, but after a while, it comes almost naturally to him.

he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, but the way he refers to you as his whenever your name comes up in conversations is so smooth, people could easily miss it if they don’t pay enough attention to his words. from “my spouse? yes, they’re doing fine” to “adelinde, where has my beloved gone off to? they weren’t in the study room”, he has mastered the subtle art of painting you as one of his people in others’ eyes, but on the contrary, the implied message is clear - “if you hurt them, i will not hesitate to take action.”

“my betrothed? no, they’re not with me today. but if you need to tell them something, you can always tell me and i’ll relay it to them.”

whenever he is not within the walls of his new office, al haitham is always seen with you.

in the bustling streets of sumeru, the acting grand sage sticks by your side, sometimes with his hand holding yours, or with you sticking to him like a koala under that cape of his. if one stops by the grand bazaar, they would see him carrying bags upon bags of items as you try to haggle for the 'exorbitant’ amount of mora needed to buy a pack of allspices. and whenever one happens to take a spontaneous stroll in the lush woods surrounding the city, they might stumble to the two of you stargazing, with your head pillowed on your lover’s arm, his expression smoothed out in serene bliss.

there is no mistaking your relationship, for the whole population of sumeru could unanimously agree even without the now-obsolete akasha terminal’s guide: he is yours just as you are his.

“tsk. it is outside office hours right now, i- hm? ah- i… see. you merely wished to inform me where [name] is? very well. this does not mean i will approve of the proposal for your darshan.” “.... but i will at least extend my gratitude and check on it latest by the end of office hours tomorrow.”

© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

◇ taglist ◇ @thestarsofenkanomiya | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @herdrops | @diebischesther | @marina-and-the-memes | @angryhope | @mixed-kester | @shuangxo | @fiannee | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ladylofspades | @sup-zfam | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @nachotrash | @algrimmammon | @sassy-cat-in-town

[crypticreid]

KINKTOBER DAY TWO

October 6 -- Phone Sex

masterlist

author's note: first of all, I've been so overwhelmed with the amount of support I've received so far on my first post. Truly, it means the world to me, so thank you! 💖💖💖Also, I've started a tag list for kinktober. If you would like to be added, please reply to one of my posts or message me!

summary: after injuring yourself, you've been forced to stay home from a case and you miss Spencer more than you'd like to admit. Lucky for you, he's missing you just as much.

warnings: female reader, masturbation, guided masturbation, horny ramblings, a little bit of spencer dominance, dirty talk

word count: 2.8k

this is adut content. 18+ plus only. minors do not interact!

Your apartment was spotlessly clean. You’d spent almost the whole day organizing and scrubbing and even rearranging furniture. You hadn’t been able to sit still all day, distracted and bored at the same time. 

While on the last case a few days ago, you had sprained your ankle pretty bad. At least bad enough that Hotch had basically forced you to take a few days of leave. You argued that you could work the current case from the office with Garcia, but he’d simply leveled his ‘this isn’t up for discussion’ look at you, and you shut your mouth. Reid had offered to drive you home and then spent the entire night pampering you and not even letting you lift a finger. Then he had to leave for this case, and you were alone. Which had been okay while your ankle throbbed, but now your ankle was perfectly fine, and you were dying being stuck at home. 

You were restless, but nothing you did helped. And now you’re frustrated. 

You bite down on your bottom lip as you try to think of literally anything else you can do to keep your mind busy. Your eyes fall onto the clock hanging on the wall, and you notice that it’s almost midnight. 

There’s barely a slim chance that he’ll pick up, but you grab your cell phone anyway and call Spencer. It rings for several seconds until his automated voicemail picks up. A sigh falls from your lips. 

“Hey, Spencer. It’s me. I know you’re busy. I just – I just miss you.” You sigh again and feel slightly annoyed at how pitiful you sound. But it’s true. 

It’s been hard to sleep since he’s gone, both because you’ve realized you spend too much time worrying about him and because the bed feels so empty without his long limbs taking up an unfair amount of space. You miss laying on the couch with your feet tucked under his thigh as you both read in comfortable quietness. And you hate how empty your apartment feels without him here. “Anyway, stay safe. And I’ll see you when you get home. Love you.” 

You hang up the phone and slump onto the couch with a groan. After a few minutes of trying to read, you give up and decide to take a shower and head to bed. You toss your cell phone onto your bed as you take off your clothes and grab a towel. In the bathroom, you turn on the shower, and as you wait for the water to warm up, you glance at the mirror. 

You see your naked body, the body that Spencer spends so much time worshiping. Your hands graze up your thighs, remembering how his hands grab onto them when he holds you pressed against his mouth as his tongue brings you to orgasm after orgasm. You continue your journey upwards across your stomach where he presses kisses and murmurs how much he loves you, to your breasts where he licks and nips and takes your nipple in between his teeth. 

A warmth begins to gather low in your belly, and you feel the beginning twinges of need in your core. Quickly, you blink away the images of Spencer and drop your hands to the cool counter of the sink. You take a few deep breaths as you lean against the counter. 

In the shower, you can’t help it when your hands caress your skin, paying special attention to your breasts. You moan out loud alone and realize why you’ve been so restless today. There’s a slight blush coloring your cheeks at the understanding. You rush through the rest of your shower and dry off with the towel so you can throw back the comforter of your bed and settle into the freshly cleaned sheets. 

You start to rub your thighs, massaging and focusing on the sensation against your skin. With your eyes closed, an image of Spencer emerges, leaning over you, touching you. No, now he’s lying next to you, he’s breathing against your neck right after he kisses below your ear, and his hands leave your thighs and travel across your stomach. Just the fingertips, almost tickling, raising the anticipation, and he smiles when you take a sharp intake of breath before he reaches your breasts. Your hands are smaller than his, so it isn’t exactly the same sense of pleasure, but it works for now. 

If he was here, Spencer would be kissing your neck, so gingerly, and then he’d laugh lightly against your skin when you’d squirm impatiently. But since he isn’t here, you don’t have to tease. Release was only a few minutes away. Your fingers gather the wetness at your core and glide upward toward your clit. 

Instantly, you sigh at the contact and begin leisurely circles on the sensitive bud as your imaginary Spencer looks into your eyes. He would lean down to kiss your lips, just as slowly as his fingers moved on you, his tongue teasing your lips, but never giving himself over to you fully. Not yet. You moan his name and speed up your fingers. 

The pleasure rises deep within you, your hips moving in tandem with your fingers, and you apply just a little more pressure. Another sharp intake of breath, and you can tell you’re close. 

Your phone rings. You freeze your motions, unaware of your surroundings for a split second, but then you force your eyes open and scramble off the bed. The ringtone is somewhere in the room, but you can’t remember where you left your phone. 

The phone rings incessantly as though it’s mocking you as you feverishly search for it. When you pull the comforter off the bed harshly, a loud clang on the floor confirms the phone’s location. You grab it and answer breathlessly, “hello.” 

“Why are you out of breath?” Spencer asks on the other end, a thousand or so miles away. 

You press a hand to your sweaty forehead and then push sticky strands of hair off of it. “Oh, I was in the shower, and I heard the phone ringing in the bedroom.” You lie even though Spencer is a genius profiler and would most likely see right through it. But the idea of admitting to him that you were touching yourself to the thought of him made your stomach do somersaults. 

There is a small pause before he replies, “I’m sorry for interrupting your shower.” 

“I was done. It’s fine.” You chew on your bottom lip.

“Oh, good. I got your message.” 

“I’m sorry for bothering you.” You sit on the edge of the bed. 

“Don’t apologize. It was nice to hear your voice.” His words make your heart flutter. “I miss you.” 

You sigh, “I miss you too,” and lie back horizontal across the bed, your feet dangling off the edge. 

“I’ll be home tomorrow. We wrapped up the case about an hour ago, but there’s a bad thunderstorm, and flights were grounded.” You picture him alone in a hotel room holding his cellphone up to his ear, his long body across the bed. 

“How was the case?” 

“I’d rather talk about you. How was your day?” 

You turn on your side so you can fiddle with the top sheet that was left askew by all of your frantic movements earlier. “Nothing exciting.”

“And how’s your ankle?” 

“Perfectly fine. Not even sore.” 

“I’ll see about that. Don’t think I won’t take a look at it tomorrow.” 

“You’re not a medical doctor, Spencer.” You roll your eyes with a small smile playing on your lips. He laughs lightly. 

There is a soft silence between the two of you for a few moments. It isn’t awkward but comforting. Almost as if he’s lying beside you and the two of you are simply resting in the presence of each other. “What were you really doing before I called?” He inquires. 

You smile. He’s too smart for his own good. “Exercising,” you quip. 

“The kind of exercise that requires your hand between your legs.” 

“Spencer!” You gasp. 

He laughs again, and you wish he was next to you because you’d kiss the laugh off his lips. “Am I wrong?” 

“How did you know?” 

“I’m a profiler.” 

“No, really tell me,” you demand. Profiling isn’t a magic trick, and Spencer isn’t a psychic. 

“I guessed.” You roll your eyes because you can see his face in your mind, the sly almost smug smile and the eyes full of amusement. 

“Bullshit.” 

“No, truly. I figured you missed me just as much as I missed you.” His voice lowers to almost a whisper, and it sends a shiver down your spine. “That you’ve been thinking about me just as much as I’ve been thinking about you.” 

“You’ve been thinking about me?” You murmur. 

“I can’t get you out of my head. It’s quite distracting, to be completely honest.” 

“Me? Distracting the brilliant Dr. Reid?” You ask innocently. 

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” His voice has taken on that husky tone that sends wet heat straight to your core. 

“Tell me.” You repeat your earlier demand, your hand rubbing mindless patterns across your skin. 

“I’m hard just from hearing your voice. It’s taking everything in me to not to unbuckle my pants and fuck into my hand like I’d fuck into you.” 

You can’t help but bite your lip at his words because it’s rare for him to curse like that. “Do it.” 

“Only if you do it too. Can you do that for me, baby? Can you touch yourself and make yourself come just from my voice.” 

“Yes,” you reply breathlessly, your hand traveling lower. 

He hums low and deep in the back of his throat. “You’re already doing it aren’t you, sweetheart? Couldn’t even wait for me to undo my belt. Needed it that bad, didn’t you?” 

“I need it.” 

You’re about to reach your aching center when he makes a quick tutting sound. “Don’t touch yourself yet.” You instantly pull your hand away. “Go get your earbuds and connect them to your phone. I want to be right in your ear, and I want both of your hands free.” 

You comply quickly, putting in your earbuds and then laying back down on your bed. You set your phone beside you. “I’m ready.” 

“Are you? What are you ready for?” He teases. He wants you to vocalize exactly what you want even though it makes you blush or maybe because it makes you blush. He wants it despite not being here to see it. 

“To touch myself.” 

“And?” 

“To make myself come from just your voice.” 

“Good…” he starts, but you have one more thing to add. 

“And I want to hear you come too, baby.” 

In the distance, you can hear the clanking of his belt as he undoes it and the shuffling of him taking off his pants. “I’ll do anything for you.” You settle into the bed, anticipation buzzing across your skin. “Are you comfortable?” 

“Yes.” 

“Perfect. Close your eyes and just focus on my voice and your breathing. Take a deep breath for me. And let it go, just like that. Where do you need me most, sweetheart?” 

“Everywhere.” You answer instantly. 

“No, baby, I know, but focus for me. Where is that ache? Where do you need me to touch you?”

You take a deep breath. “My breasts.” Your entire body is aching with want, but your breasts are desperate to be touched. 

“I want so badly to touch you, I wish I was there. I want to put your breasts in my hands. Do that for me, please.” You do as he asks, kneading your breasts. “Open your mouth, baby, and take one of your fingers and get it wet. Now play with your nipple, tease it, circle it.” 

You moan as you tease yourself. “Yes. I want to hear you, tell me how good it feels. Show me how much you miss me.” 

“I need you, Spencer.” You groan as you lightly pinch your nipple. 

“I know, I know. I need you too.” On the other end of the phone, you can hear the sounds of him touching himself, slowly. He’s teasing himself just as much as he’s teasing you. “When I get home to you, I’m going to show you just how much I need you. I’m going to make you come with my fingers. With my tongue. Over and over again. And then I’ll finally give you my cock, just when you think you’ve had enough. And I’ll make you come one more time on my cock. Is that what you want, baby?” 

Your back arches off the bed, still playing with your breasts and nipples. “Yes, oh my god. I want it so bad.” 

“How bad, honey? Tell me, is your pussy dripping for me? ‘Cause you need me that bad.” 

Your dominant hand moves to your core, and you feel how soaked you are. “Yes. Yes. I need you. I’m so wet.” 

“Touch your clit, baby. Slow, do it slow for me at first. You know, just like I would.” 

Even though your eyes are already closed, you squeeze them closed tighter when you make contact with your clit. It’s practically throbbing and you exhale a sharp breath. “Oh my god, Spencer. I can’t. I need –” 

“Slow, yes you can. Take a deep breath, focus on my voice.” 

An uncontrolled moan escapes your throat, but you do as he says. You concentrate on his breaths over the phone, and you match yours to his. Then you match the rhythm of your hand to the sound of his as he ruts into his hand. You listen to his grunts and whimpers, both of you racing toward a needed release. 

He lets out a guttural sound. “Do you feel empty? Do you need to be filled?” 

“So bad, so bad.” 

“I’d fill you so good if I was there.” He groans, and you hear him lose his rhythm for a second as his hips falter. “Slip one of your fingers in. But with your other hand. I need you to keep rubbing that beautiful clit.” 

As you slowly push one finger into you, he continues to ramble. “I wish I was there to taste you. You taste so good, baby. I love how gorgeous you look when I’ve got my mouth on you. The way you grind your clit against my tongue because you’re so needy. So desperate to come.” 

Your finger pumps faster into you, the need and pleasure climbing higher within you as you buck your hips in time with the movement of your hands. You’re breathless, but you tell Spencer, “I’m so desperate.” 

“I know you are.” He groans. “Do you know how bad I need it too? Can you add another finger for me, baby? Fill yourself even more.” You clench against your two fingers. He’s panting into the phone, and you can picture the way his hair would be stuck to his forehead as he pounded into you, completely lost in the feeling of you squeezing him.

“I’m gonna come, baby.” You gasp out. You feel like you have no control over your body as though Spencer was completely in control even though it’s your fingers frantically stroking. 

“Are you? Are you going to make yourself come all over your fingers?” 

“Yes, I have to. I –” 

“Yeah, you do. You’re doing so well. I need to hear you come. I need to hear you be so good for me. Coming all over your fingers, all by yourself. But you’re thinking of me aren’t you?” 

“Yes… yes. Always.” 

“I can make you come so hard even when I’m not there. And you’re going to make a mess, a beautiful, perfect mess as you finish.” You moan loudly. “That’s it. Just like that.” He’s groaning and muttering, and you know he’s close too. “I wish I was coming in you, feeling you clench around me. And I’d rub that needy clit of yours, your nails would be scratching against my skin because you just can’t help yourself. Please come, baby. I need it.” 

You come with his name on your lips, your body clenches and shakes, and you listen closely to his climax. He lets out a shaky breath after a few moments. “I love you.” He says, and you hate that you can’t kiss him. 

“I love you too.” Your breathing slowly returns to normal. 

“Are you okay?” He checks in with you, and you smile as you roll onto your side and settle deeper into the bed, suddenly very tired. 

“I’m great. Are you?” You yawn. 

“Yes. Get some sleep, sweetheart.” 

“Come home soon.” 

“I’m coming home to you as soon as I possibly can. I can’t be apart from you like this.” 

“Neither can I. Talk to me until I fall asleep?” 

“Of course. Anything for you.”

tag list: @spenciesprincess @catalinasroom @tylevx

[dmwrites]

Grian didn’t choose the CuteGuy lifestyle as much as it was thrust upon him. He had made one joke (just one!) about how he could be HotGuy’s sidekick, CuteGuy, and Scar went nuts. Within a week, a shulker box had been delivered to his base, containing some flashy pink clothes, a huge bow with a deadly-looking quiver of arrows, and, most unexpectedly, a bedazzled pink flip phone. There was only one contact in the phone, so, with a sigh, Grian pressed the call button.

“Hello?”

“Scar, what is this?”

“Oh, so you found your CuteGuy readiness package!” Scar gasped excitedly. “What do you think? Do you like my big package?”

“Wording, Scar. And, no, I’m not going to be your sidekick! The CuteGuy thing was a joke, bro.” Grian held up the clothes and looked them over with distain, using his shoulder to prop the phone to his ear. “And pink really isn’t my color, much less hot pink.”

“What do you mean? You’re blonde, you’re basically like a Barbie, you’d totally rock pink!”

“I have an alter ego already, Scar, I don’t need another, much less one that wears… does this shirt have a heart-shaped cutout in the chest? Scar!”

“Oh please.” Scar scoffed. “Do you really think Poultry Man will make a comeback? Let’s all be honest with ourselves now.”

“Hey now, mister ‘HotGuy is like half of my personality’. PoultryMan was the blueprint of superheroes!” Grian put the clothes back in the shulker and closed it firmly. “Scar, this dress up game is going a little too far, don’t you think? There isn’t even a need for HotGuy.”

“You never know.” Scar said in a sing-song voice. “Listen, just keep the shulker and the phone- if I really need a sideki- backup, I’ll call this phone, okay? Please?”

“Fine.” Grian said. “It’s a good thing you’re my friend, or I’d burn all of this.” He hung up the phone and set it down on top of the shulker box. He sighed, shaking his head at the bedazzled and pink nightmare that sat on and in the box before him. He picked the box up and moved it to a shadowy part of his basement. Grumbot looked down at him, lights twinkling in a way Grian took as laughter.

“Listen, Scar never said a thing about me actually picking up the phone, so by technicality, I’m off the hook.” Grian felt a need to explain himself. “If he really wants a CuteGuy so bad, he can get someone else to do it or something. I don’t do sidekick. PoultryMan is main character energy.”

Grumbot just flashed his lights, and Grian wondered if the robot had even been listening at all. He sighed, turning around and gazing out towards the now-dull rift on the other side of the basement.

“Now, to something that really matters, what on earth do I do about this?”

-seven months later-

Much like young Issac Newton theorizing about gravity from an apple falling onto his head, Joe Hills also had an odd series of events happen to him when something big and heavy fell onto his head. But he thought “ouch!” instead of conceptualizing gravity, but that’s besides the point.

“Who is messing with me? Guys, now is not a great time… huh?” Joe looked all around, and his gaze came to rest on a red shulker box on its side, spilling stacks upon stacks of tnt onto the ground. Joe went to pick it up and saw it labeled as Grian’s. “Grian?” There was no answer.

So, Joe did what any good person would do, and gathered up all of the tnt, put it back in the box, and set off for Grian’s megabase, which he had only an approximation of its location. He did manage to find it eventually, or, at least, the amalgamation of Grian and Mumbo’s bases, and he dithered on the spot for a while, trying to remember who’s was which. He eventually just gave up and dove down into what he knew to be Grian’s basement, with that weird robot and rift thing. Luckily, both oddities seemed inactive, and Joe put the shulker box down in the middle of the room, and took out a scrap of paper to leave as a note.

Suddenly, a phone rang, echoing through the basement. Joe looked at the rift, then the robot. Neither seemed to a source of the ringing. It was coming, Joe found out as he looked around, from a bedazzled pink flip phone on top of a pink and horribly dusty shulker box. On instinct, Joe picked it up and answered.

“Howdy, Joe Hills from Nashville, Tennessee here, how can I be of service?”

“Cuteguy, it’s time! The time is nye! I- wait, Joe?”

Joe recognized the dramatic voice on the other end at once. “Scar?”

“Joe?”

“Howdy, Scar!”

“Wait, I thought I gave this phone to Grian.”

“Well, I suppose you did. I just happened to be by, dropping off a shulker box of tnt that he must have dropped by accident onto my head, and I heard the phone-“

“Hold on, I’ll be right there.”

Scar hung up, and Joe pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it in confusion. He considered leaving, he really did, but after a rather arduous debate in his head of how much time he could be spending on his pinball machine instead of waiting on Scar, he ultimately determined that time spent with friends was always time well spent. He had just come to that conclusion, in fact, when Scar crash landed right in front of Joe.

“Ahh! One heart, Joe, one heart.” Scar said, while Joe helped him right his wheelchair. “Now, where’s CuteGuy?”

“Who?” Joe asked. He took stock of Scar’s outfit, which was a tight black unitard looking thing with blue and orange details. “And what on earth are you wearing?”

“Well, I’m HotGuy, of course!” Scar straightened up, taking out a deadly looking bow and pointing it, clearly posing, which Joe took as the cue to make appropriate awed noises. “But every good superhero needs his sidekick, and I was hoping CuteGuy would have gotten my message.” Scar looked around, like this CuteGuy guy would be hiding in a corner or something.

“Scar, there is no one on the server named ‘CuteGuy’- I feel like Xisuma would have told us if he’d whitelisted someone new.” Joe said very seriously.

“What? No! Okay, Joe, listen,” Scar lowered his voice conspiratorially, and Joe leaned in, keeping an eye on Grumbot as he did- who knows who could be listening. “CuteGuy is Grian’s alter ego. Like how I’m HotGuy.”

Joe put a hand to his mouth in shock, to be polite. “You mean it was actually you who terrorized me all those months ago while I was building a sign for King Ren?”

Scar clicked his tongue in an awkward kind of way. “No time for that, Joe! The point is, I need a sidekick right now, and Grian is nowhere to be found. So, Joe, what do you say- wanna come be CuteGuy for a little while?”

Joe considered this. He had many questions, but Scar had a sense of urgency in his tone. And Joe did like to say yes to new experiences…

“Well, I suppose I could help you out Scar- I mean, HotGuy. But shouldn’t I be called something else, as CuteGuy is kind of more of a Grian thing? I wouldn’t want to invade his creative space.”

Scar rubbed his chin, thinking hard “Maybe… are there other adjectives that are like hot and cute?”

“Oh! I was named the sexiest Minecraft youtuber via a set of tumblr polls!” Joe exclaimed. “Sexy… guy?”

“Tumblr? What’s that, like a disease or something?” Scar asked.

“I- okay, so I could explain this simply, but even that might take a few hours within itself… if I say the words ‘Ball Pit’, does that invoke emotions within you?”

“Joe, we don’t have time!” Scar put a hand over Joe’s mouth. “Listen, I think G will be fine if you borrow the CuteGuy name and outfit. But we really do need to go- crime does not sleep!” Scar opened the pink shulker box and pulled out a couple of sets of clothes, holding them up to Joe and squinting. Finally, he shoved a bundle at him. “Go put this on, and I’ll meet you on Grian and Mumbo’s bridge. Hurry!”

Scar flew up, and Joe quickly changed into the violently pink clothes without much thought. It wasn’t until he flew up to meet Scar did it occur to him what exactly he had on.

“Scar, HotGuy, I don’t mean to complain, but is it really all that sensible to be fighting crime in a crop top and booty shorts? Where is the padding? And the armor?” Joe asked, pulling down on the crop top slightly.

“CuteGuy, in this life, you gotta slay in every way. We’re hotter and cuter then our enemies.” Scar lowered his sunglasses, gave Joe a once-over, and tossed him a huge, glittery pink compound bow. “Now, let’s fly. I’ll explain our mission on the way.” He took off, leaving Joe to put the bow in his inventory and hastily take off after him.

The pink phone began to ring as soon as Joe was coasting in the air, and he fumbled to pull it out of the bag strapped to his thigh.

“Howdy!”

“Alright CuteGuy, are you hearing me alright?” Scar’s voice was cool and collected, if a bit hard to hear over the wind.

“Loud and clear, Scar- I mean, HotGuy.” Joe could see Scar up ahead, and kept pace behind him.

“Fantastic.” Scar turned to give him a thumbs up and a cheesy smile. “Now, for this mission, CuteGuy, we’re heading for the lair of the biggest threat to the server, the goat himself, DocM77. Perhaps you’ve heard of him.”

“I… yeah, Scar, sorry, HotGuy, we’ve both known Doc since season five, of course I know him.”

“Good, good. Recently, I, HotGuy, teamed up with two esteemed revolutionaries to form the Buttercups, an elite team set to take down the goat once and for all. The camp has been set, but we need to send a message to the goat that we mean business. Doc may have fancy redstone, but we have determination, grit, and most importantly, obsidian. Oh, and we’re here!”

“Obsidian?” Joe asked, landing beside Scar on the floor of the perimeter, hanging up the phone. “I thought you were gonna say, like, a pipe bomb or something.”

“No, no, CuteGuy.” Scar pulled out a shulker box and set it on the ground. “We just want to be annoying to good ol’ DocM, not actually kill him. So, we’re gonna cover every surface down here in obsidian.”

Joe looked at Scar, then around at the yawning expanse of the perimeter. “I- yeah, okay. And we are the good guys here, right?”

“Of course.” Scar replied, smiling.

——

It took about five hours of painstakingly placing obsidian, but every surface within the perimeter was eventually covered, which was an interesting sight to behold. Scar and Joe stood at the mouth of Doc’s house, looking down into the expanse.

“I think we did good, CuteGuy.” Scar said, patting Joe on the back.

“This bow was surprisingly effective against slimes.” Joe replied, hoisting up the big pink bow.

“That’s the power of the veloci-tay.” Scar said with an understanding nod. “Now, let’s get out of here before Doc gets back.”

He’d hardly uttered the words when there was the distinct sound of someone coming through Doc’s nether portal. Scar and Joe turned around just in time to see Doc emerge from the portal, and freeze at the sight of them.

“HotGuy?” Doc breathed. “What are you doing here? You and your… actually, I don’t believe I’ve met your… friend?”

“Oh, this is my sidekick, CuteGuy.” Scar waved his hand at Joe.

“Name suits you, CuteGuy.” Doc winked at Joe. “Pleasure to meet you. Now, what was I- oh, what are you both doing in my base? Why does CuteGuy look guilty? What…” Doc’s mechanical eye suddenly flew from the socket, whirring into the air with small but powerful blades. It flew behind the two superheroes and looked down into the perimeter. The room went silent, and Joe watched Doc’s face fall, first into surprise, then anger.

“What the- what did you do? Obsidian?” Doc’s eye flew back into socket, and he actually growled at them. “You annoying-”

“CuteGuy, shoot him!” Scar screeched, hiding behind Joe.

“I- what- okay!” Joe pulled back the bow and aimed it at Doc. The arrow missed. Then another missed. Then Doc was standing right in front of him, glowering.

“It’s a good thing you’re cute, because you’re a terrible shot.” Doc growled.

“Run!” Scar screamed, shooting into Doc’s face over Joe’s shoulder, and they both took off to the sky. Doc typed a bunch of angry and cryptic messages into the in-game chat, but didn’t pursue.

Joe and Scar landed on the bridge between Grian and Mumbo’s bases, breathing heavily.

“We did it! Our first mission as a duo!” Scar held out his hand for a high-five. “What do you say, Joe, want to take on the CuteGuy persona full time? HotGuy needs a good sidekick like you.”

Joe gazed into Scar’s grinning face, seeing his own, glittering pink reflection in Scar’s sunglasses.

“Absolutely not.”

[sheerfreesia007]

Undercover Mission

Title: Undercover Mission

Fandom: Stray Kids

Pairing: Jeongin x Reader

Author: @sheerfreesia007​

Words: 3,309

Warnings: mention of guns, mention of shooting, injuries (scrapes)

Permanent Tag List: @paintballkid711, @fioccodineveautunnale, @phoenixhalliwell, @linkpk88, @weirdowithnobeardo, @athalien

You trudged along the front walkway of your apartment complex feeling the weight of the day and the humidity weighing your body down after a long day at work. Slipping your keys out of your work bag, you look up when you hear a door open and spot your neighbor Jeongin walking out of his front door. He looked over at you as he shut the door and smiled at you widely, you couldn’t help the smile that grew across your lips as well as you spotted his smile. It was contagious whenever he smiled at you, the way his eyes closed to near slits whenever he smiled made your heart melt and want to coo at how adorable he was.

Jeongin had moved in about six months ago into the apartment next to you and had easily struck up a friendship with you within the first month. You had thought he was a little too eager at first but he had admitted that he was just trying to make friends since he was so new to the area. The two of you had quickly fallen into a comfortable friendship where the running rule was that either of your doors were open to each other. You had wound up spending most of your downtime at home with him and likewise with him. 

Your favorite time spent with him was either cooking a meal for him or just sitting outside in front of your front doors at night talking about anything and everything as the day turned to night. Lately though Jeongin had been spending time with a crowd that were known for some sketchy and shady dealings that you weren’t too happy with, you knew it came with living in such a bad part of town but with the cheap rent you could only protect yourself as much as possible while trying to further your career so that you could move out. 

“Hey Jagi, rough day at work?” He asked as he slumped into his lawn chair that you had helped him pick out about a month into his move. It was bright neon green and hard on the eyes with the bright blue polka dots but you burst out laughing when you spotted it and made him purchase it saying that it fit him perfectly since he was so quiet on his own. He had rolled his eyes at your explanation before picking it up, he had gotten you back though when he had found a bright neon pink one with yellow polka dots for you since it was your least favorite color. And that was how the paired lawn chairs had wound up in front either of your apartments.

”Yeah you know how it is Innie.” You said tiredly using his nickname that he had asked you to start calling him by. He frowned at you softly before nodding his head. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll order a pizza for us and come out and sit with you.” You told him and he grinned over you causing your breath to stutter in your chest, he was too handsome for his own good.

”Alright Jagi, I’ll get the beer before you come out.” He responded and you nodded your head before opening your front door and stepping into your apartment. You set your work bag down next to your front door before slipping your boots off and hanging up your keys on the small hooks you had on the wall. You slipped your cell phone out of your work jacket and pressed the contact for the local pizza place that wasn’t too far from the apartment complex as you walked back towards your bedroom to get changed in comfier clothes.

You quickly put in an order for a large cheese pizza and a side of garlic knots before hanging up and setting your phone on its charger. Turning to your chest of drawers you began pulling out a simple maroon tank top and pair of gray shorts so you won’t worry about getting pizza sauce on them just in case. You grabbed a hair tie from the top of your drawers and quickly tied your hair up in a ponytail so that it was off your neck and away from your face since it was so hot and humid out.

Grabbing your cell phone you began walking towards your front door and grinned at Innie when you slipped out of your apartment. He was already sprawled out in his chair with his small cooler placed in between his and your chair stock full of ice, water, soda and beers. He already had a beer opened and was taking slow sips at it as he looked around the apartment complex as the other neighbors all began arriving home from work for the evening. You watched him quietly as you settled into your chair and pulled a soda from his cooler and popped the tab causing Innie to snap his head over to you. You chuckled at his surprise at seeing you already sitting in your chair and he scoffed softly before grinning over at you.

”You know, you’re the only one who can sneak up on me? Even my brothers can’t do that. You should feel special.” He groused out and you burst out into happy delighted laughter at his words.

”I do feel special.” You responded proudly and he rolled his eyes at your bragging. He scoffed again before taking another sip of his beer. “Pizza shouldn’t be long, I ordered garlic knots too.” You told him and he nodded his head at your words.

”Wanna talk about your day?” He asked as he eyed one of your neighbors who had just pulled into his parking spot across the street from the two of you.

”It was just the same old thing.” You began as you sighed tiredly. “I know eventually I’ll be recognized at work but I’m getting tired of the daily grind. It all seems too overwhelming and consuming, ya know? Feels like it's sucking all my energy and I’m not able to relish as quickly anymore.” You finish explaining to him and he nods his head slowly at your words before turning to look at you with soft eyes.

”I can take care of you Jagi. Just say the word and I’ll make it happen. The offer still stands.” He says adamantly in a serious tone that has you smiling wistfully at him.

”What the drunken offer you gave me a month ago, Innie?” You ask, humoring him with a soft amused tone. A month ago Innie had gotten drunk off his favorite beer while sitting out with you for a whole day, it had been the weekend so thankfully neither of you had to worry about work the next day. But when you had helped a stumbling drunk Innie back into his bedroom to sleep off the alcohol he had told you that he wanted to take care of you in any way that he could since you always took such good care of him without any expectation of a return. He had slurred his words that night as you tucked him in but when you had turned to head back to your own apartment he had grabbed your wrist and told you in a serious tone that he would always be willing to take care of you.

”I may have said it when I was drunk but it’s still true.” He insisted and you smiled softly at him before patting his forearm that laid on his chair.

”I can take care of myself.” You said softly and he huffed at your words.

”I know Jagi, but I don’t like you draining yourself over your job. I can take care of you Jagi.” He said adamantly as he stared at you before he swiftly twisted his arm and grabbed onto your fingers gently. “I swear I can.” He said seriously and stared intently into your eyes for a few moments.

”With what job Innie?” You asked him suddenly and he jerked back as if you had slapped him. You sighed softly and knew that you’d have to follow up your question with an explanation that you hadn’t wanted to talk about tonight. “You’ve been running around Alexi and his crew lately, don’t think I haven’t noticed. They’re no good Innie and I worry about you all the time ever since you got mixed up with them.” You told him as your eyebrows furrowed softly on your forehead.

”You worry about me?” He asked softly as he stared at you with wide shocked eyes. You huff at him and roll your eyes at clueless he was, you had been harboring feelings for the easygoing man for months but hadn’t wanted to make a move or anything on him since he had fallen in with Alexi and his crew. 

“All the time Innie.” You confessed and he huffed softly as his head ducked at your words. His fingers rubbed against your knuckles before pulling your hand up to his mouth and he placed a gentle kiss on your fingers. You stared at him silently before your cheeks began to flush heatedly making him smirk softly from behind your fingers.

”Good, keep worrying about me Jagi.” He said boldly and your eyes widened slightly at his words. Was he flirting with you? Your mind raced with the idea of the man flirting with you and what that could mean for the two of you. Does he want to be more than friendly neighbors? Does he like you as much as you like him? 

Just as you were trying to curb your racing thoughts you subconsciously heard the sound of squealing tires coming from your left and then loud popping sounds followed causing your eyebrows to furrow in concern as Innie’s eyes widened and he quickly yanked you to the ground in front of your lawn chairs up against the low cement wall that stood in front of all the first floor apartments. He pressed you further into the ground as you cried out in pain as your knees and hands scraped along the sidewalk causing the skin to slice open. Innie grabbed your arms and moved them to cover your head before he popped back up to his feet, from your position you looked over at him and watched him pull a black gun from the back of his pants and begin firing at the racing vehicle. You flinched at each shot that he fired and when you peeked out to the street you saw the vehicle stopped in the middle of the parking lot and four men began to climb out with their own guns raised towards Innie.

You screamed as they all began to shoot their guns at Innie who quickly ducked behind the cement wall. He slipped his cellphone out his pocket and quickly dialed a number before setting the phone on the ground next to him.

”Yang!” Shouted whoever he had called on the line and Innie didn't hesitate to talk over his caller.

”Shots fired! Four perpetrators. Alexi is one of them. I need backup! NOW!” Innie shouted towards the cellphone and whimpered softly as you continued to hear the gunshots from the men in the car.

”Innie.” You whined softly and his eyes darted to you before he peered over the cement barrier and began picking off each of the men. You flinched at each shot fired as your hands came up to cover your ears and you pressed your face further into the sidewalk trying to become as small as possible to escape the horror of your life right now.

It didn’t take long before you heard sirens and more vehicles screeching into the parking lot but you refused to lift your head until you knew it was safe to do so. You turned your head to look over at Innie and saw him crouched behind the cement barrier again with his gun held in one hand as he peered over the top of it. There were a lot of shouting men's voices all at once and the gunshots had stopped which you were thankful for but you felt your body begin to shake as the adrenaline now rushed out of your body and shock began to take over.

“Special Agent Yang!” A loud shout came and Innie quickly raised his hand to wave over the cement wall before he slowly stood with his hands raised. You watched worriedly as Innie exposed himself and you instantly reached towards him grabbing onto his pant leg causing him to look down at you worriedly before smiling softly. Suddenly there was a large burly looking man striding around the cement wall and moving to Innie’s side. “Are you alright Special Agent Yang? Were you shot?” Asked the man as he surveyed Innie for any injuries as Innie shook his head. The large man then peered around Innie and spotted you still laying on the ground before he looked over at Innie with a hard look.

”She was sitting with me when they came in shooting.” Innie explained as he gestured to your lawn chairs. Your mind was still racing with the events that just happened but your thoughts kept getting stuck on something that the man said to Innie, Special Agent Yang. Was Innie a police officer? Had you been living next to a police officer for the past six months? How had you not realized it?

”Right we’ll have EMTs look her over while we take your statement.” Said the man. Innie nodded and handed over his gun to the man before turning to you and gently helped you to your feet.

”Hey Jagi, are you okay? Can you focus on me?” Innie asked, sounding a little worried as he tried to catch your eyesight. “C’mon Jagi, look at me.” He pleaded softly and your eyes instantly snapped to him which made him breathe a sigh of relief. “There’s my girl.” He said quietly and your heart thudded heavily in your chest.

”Special Agent Yang?” You asked softly as you stared at him with worried eyes and his own eyes widened at your question before he ducked his head.

”I’ll explain everything.” He said quickly to you as his eyes focused on something behind you for a minute before snapping back to yours. “I promise, but right now the EMTs are here to check you out and I have to go talk to my supervisor. I’ll be back in a minute, I swear.” He promises to you as he waves the EMTs over to you before he begins to pull away from you. Your hand instantly, almost in reflex, grips his tank top tightly in your grasp, halting his movement away from you as he looks down at you.

”You were shot at.” You say softly and in a hollow tone and he grimaces at you before nodding his head. He presses a quick kiss to your forehead whispering that he’ll be right back before he leaves you with the EMTs.

The EMTs patch up your hands and knees that were scraped from the sidewalk before wrapping a blanket around your now shivering and shaking form as you stare off into space as they work around you. You don’t come back to yourself until you feel Innie take a seat next to you on the cement wall and press his side into yours. He thanks the EMTs for patching you up and they leave the two of you alone.

”Are you okay?” He asks softly as he watches you silently.

”You were shot at.” You say once again and then suck in a sharp breath. “Holy shit, I was shot at too.” You whisper in shock and Innie chuckles softly at your words. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer to him as his other arm comes across your front to cup your face and tilt your face to look at him.

”Yes you were. And you were so brave during it.” He proudly confirms for you. Your eyes focus on him for a second before you lunge forward and wrap your arms around his torso to bury your face in his neck. “Easy Jagi.” He says softly as he rubs your back soothingly. You stay like that for a few moments just sucking his scent as it begins to calm your shaking body. You suddenly pull away from him and stare up at him with a scowl on your face.

”You’re a cop?!” You snap suddenly angry that he’s been hiding such a large part of his life from you. He grimaces at your heated question and he nods his head.

”Special Agent actually, it’s a specialized unit. I’ve been undercover for the last six months trying to bring down Alexi and his crew.” He explains softly to you and you stare at him as your mind takes in this information.

”Is your name actually Jeongin? Innie?” You ask still feeling slightly betrayed even though you’re starting to understand it more.

”Yes, I gave you my real name, just not Alexi and his crew. You were separate from them.” He tells you honestly. You stare at him for a moment before you slap his chest and he flinches before looking at you with hurt written all over his face.

”You idiot!” You snap at him as you scowl. “What if they had asked me about you?! I would’ve told them information that could put you in danger!” You hiss at him angrily that he had been so foolish. Innie stared at you for a moment before he began to laugh at your worry and concern coming out as anger at him.

”Jagi.” He whined softly as he pulled you into his chest. “I thought for a second that you hated that I was an undercover cop!” You exclaimed with a whine.

”I don’t know how you became an undercover cop with your foolishness.” You scoff at him as he presses your face into his neck and laughs loudly at your waspish words. “No let go, I have to go talk to your supervisor and ask him why he would hire you as an undercover.” You say half serious and Innie laughs loudly again as he holds you tightly so that you can’t leave his arms. “Let go.” You pout up at him and he chuckles before pressing a kiss to your furrowed forehead. “I’m about to get you fired, you idiot.”

”Then how would I be able to take care of you?” He asked with a soft smirk on his face as he stared down at you. You jerk in his arms in surprise before you raise an eyebrow at his question. “You don’t honestly think I’ll let you stay here after this do you?” He asked incredulously. “Oh no Jagi, you’re staying with me until I can convince you to be my girlfriend.” He informed you matter of factly making your eyes widen at his confidence before you scoff at him.

”More like you wanna keep me around so that someone keeps worrying about you, you idiot.” You snip out at him and he laughs softly at your words.

”I do love it that you worry about me.” He says softly as he ducks his head and presses his lips to yours softly and you whine quietly into his mouth. You can feel him smile into the kiss and you pinch at his flat stomach before gasping when you feel his six pack through the tank top.

”What else have you hidden from me Innie?” You asked sultrily and Innie groaned low in his throat before he answered you.

”Come home with me and I’ll show you Jagi.” He says before deepening the kiss.

[ladykailitha]

Love is Loving the Person For Who They Are

Heeyyyy...so after my rant, I pulled out this quick little one one-shot based on those feelings I had earlier. It’s not quite idea @xenon-demon had in their tags as that would be a full fic’s worth and I have so many WIPs running right now, so I don’t have time to do the full idea justice, but I hope this conveys my thoughts well enough.

***

Eddie walked into a disaster. He wasn’t even sure what was going if he was honest.

Steve’s clothes were strewn all over his room, with him sitting dejected on his bed in a black t-shirt, black acid washed jeans, and his white Nike’s.

Running around the room was Dustin, Nancy, and Robin all arguing on the top of their lungs what Steve should wear.

“Hey, guys,” Eddie greeted them a lilt of confusion coloring his tone. “Wha’cha doing?”

The screaming match stopped and everyone turned to look at him in shock.

“Shit!” Nancy said. “Is it already that late?” She glanced at her watch. “Shit.”

“This is why you should have called us sooner,” Dustin said, rounding on Steve. “We would have been able to find you something acceptable before it was too late.”

“But I didn’t–” Steve protested.

“So we’re agreed,” Robin said interrupting, “the black slacks and jacket no shirt?”

But that only started the fight all over again.

Eddie tilted his head. “What’s wrong with what he’s currently wearing?”

Steve’s jaw dropped as everyone else turned to Eddie with such lightning speed that he was sure that they were going to get whiplash.

“It’s just normal,” Dustin said, smugly. “It’s not metal.”

“We don’t want him standing out,” Robin said. “He could get hurt.”

“Only,” Nancy said, glaring at Steve like it was all his fault, “he doesn’t have anything close to what you would wear.”

“Black jeans and band t-shirt?” Eddie asked confused. “I mean, yeah, he doesn’t have a Metallica or Dio shirt, but his shirt is what anyone else would wear to their first metal concert.”

“What?” Robin said, dumbly.

“No it isn’t,” Dustin said with a sneer. “When I went to my first concert I had all the right clothes and shit.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Who took you to a metal concert?”

Dustin shrugged. “That is not what is important here. I had a master teach me the ways before I went.”

Eddie tucked his chin to his chest. “Okay...I’m still not seeing how black jeans and t-shirt aren’t metal, though.”

Steve had been staring up at Eddie this whole time like he had hung the moon. He finally spoke. “I based my outfit off what Eddie wears all the time.”

Eddie beamed at him. “And you look amazing, Stevie. Now, I would have liked to have seen you in that tight navy blue polo personally. But needs must, I suppose.”

“His what?” Nancy asked, her eyes wide.

Eddie pursed his lips and began rooting around in the stacks of clothes. After a few moments he abruptly stood up. “Tada!”

Nancy and Robin looked at each other in shock.

“But that’s shirt he was wearing when Max gave us her letters,” Dustin said in confusion.

Eddie grinned. “Yeah, he looks hot in it.”

Steve blushed. “We should probably get going.”

Eddie nodded. “Come on, then.”

As the reached the bottom of the stairs the two men heard Robin exclaim, “Hey, did Eddie take the polo with him?!”

Steve looked over at Eddie, who sure enough still had the shirt.

“Oh,” he said, quietly. “If you forgot to put it back before we left you can just leave it on the side table by the front door. I’ll put it back when I get home.”

Eddie just smiled fondly as he sailed out the front door and to his van. He held the door open for Steve and Steve slid in. Eddie tossed him the shirt.

“I’ll leave up to you, darlin’,” he said, climbing into the driver’s side of the van, “which shirt you want to wear, but just know this: you don’t have to change your style for anyone. Least of all me. Because what our friends fail to realize is that I fell in love with the polo wearing prep Stevie. That’s the one I thought was taking out tonight.”

Steve rubbed the polo shirt between his two thumbs. “You mean that?”

Eddie leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Sure do, sweetheart. But I’ll get if you want to wear the t-shirt to the concert. But just so we’re clear on this, don’t think you have to change to fit me. Any part of me. If you start liking the same music I do, great! Just another thing we have in common. Just like when I said I enjoyed going to that baseball game with you.”

Steve blinked. “I thought you were bored.”

Eddie laughed. “I’m pretty sure that seventh inning stretch is for all the fans and not just newbies like me.”

Steve smiled for the first time since Eddie came to pick him up. “Fair enough, but you had fun?”

Eddie nodded, pulling out of the driveway. “Sure did. I can’t watch it on that terrible black and white TV that Uncle Wayne has, but going out and being with the other fans? That was fun.”

Steve’s smile grew bigger. “Just wait until you go to hockey match.”

Eddie’s face lit up with a feral grin. “I like the way you think, babe.”

Steve shucked off his t-shirt and pulled on the polo. Eddie glanced over at him, a fond smile on his face.

***

Permanent Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @renaissan-vvitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666  @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @redfreckledwolf @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst

[mvltisstuff]

lost in the fire - e.b

summary: when visiting the home of a newly divorced couple in their high-security home, things get very heated for y/n and buck.

evan buckley x reader

a/n: based on one of my fav s19 episodes 🤭 also sorry for typos i’m tired and i wanna go to sleep 😁

“damn it, oliver! you called the cops?” the woman yells when she sees the red and blue lights and blaring sirens.

“audrey, there is a fire if you didn’t notice! i called the fire department!” he argues back, then turning to the 118. “my wife was just burning all of our belongings together, and the fireplace just started sparking.”

“ex-wife.” audrey grumbles.

“ok, ma’am. we need to get in there, so why don’t you, sir, come get checked out.” bobby says, leading the husband to henrietta. “we heard there were some difficulties getting in so buck, y/l/n, go see if you can get those doors open and start hitting this thing from the middle.”

“on it, cap.” buck says and the two follow the wife back into the house.

“alright so, i created this whole system to keep this house in line and it’s all programmed a certain way,” she informs the firefighters beside her. she continues to ramble on about how long it took her and how she formed it all.

“ok, well why don’t we open it?” y/n asks, politely but with a little force as well. the woman places her hand on the buzzer of the door, and it buzzes a bright red color. “huh, that’s weird. i’ll try it again.” the second time she places her finger on it, the same thing happens but another warning comes up talking about the attempts left. she pulls her hand back and observes her thumb.

“looks like you blistered it trying to burn all that stuff, it probably won’t work even if you do it a few times.” buck says to her, giving her something to wrap around her blistered thumb.

“well, here, i’ll just try it again.” buck and y/n exchange a look of confusion and doubt that it’ll work, but they wait around for her to try and get the fire revealed to them. “ugh! shit!” they all turn around and look at the door of the garage sliding down into the locked mode.

“no, no!” y/n runs over and hits on the door, realizing she was too late to try and prevent it from closing. “well, that didn’t work. do you happen to have another way to get in?”

“i have a code,” they sigh out of relief because they can already feel the intense heat filling up the garage. “but it’s getting fixed right now. of course, i mean perfect timing for my house to burn down.”

“hey, your house will be ok, we just have to try and figure out how to get through this door.” buck reassures audrey, even though he also isn’t sure how to make it out of here. “when will the system reset?”

she mumbles quietly, looking down at her shoes and taking off her sweater. “maybe a few hours, at least.” buck groans out and looks over to y/n who has a face filled with disbelief. she pulls out her radio and speaks into it.

“cap, it might be a while before we get into the actual house. looks like we’re stuck in here.”

“we gotta get you guys out of there quickly, it is way too hot to be in there for too long.” bobby says, light panic fading through his voice.

“chim! eddie! go grab the jaws and try to pry this door open before our friends get cooked alive. get at the weakest parts of the door and try to break this code.”

————————————————————————

after what felt like days inside that garage, the temperature rises to 110°. they were practically baking inside, with thick beads of sweat falling down their faces. with no water or air, they were already dehydrated and could suffocate in this garage if they could not open it.

the clatter from outside becomes distant as the heat begins to get heavier on their bodies. they are already on the cool cement floor of the room, but even with that, their clothes are soaked. audrey sits over in one of the corners and y/n and buck sit in the other.

“if we ever get married, don’t burn our stuff.” buck says.

“you think i’d burn your stuff?”

“well you never know, that guy clearly didn’t see it coming.”

“we’re firefighters, buck. i think we’d know better.” she smiles at him through the feeling of the sun touching the earth's crust. “at least we’re in here together though.”

buck blushes like he has a middle school crush on her, even though they’ve been dating for a while. “me too, just wish it wasn’t as hot as the devil's ass in here.”

“i wish i had the keys, maybe crank the AC of the car,” audrey says from the corner, eyeing her car.

“AC sounds heavenly, but we won’t have AC again if we get carbon monoxide poisoning from the engine.” y/n tells her, leaning back. it seems like every option they have just get shut down immediately, placing them in more danger.

“buck, y/n/n, how’s it going in there?” bobby’s voice comes in through the radio again.

“pretty good for being in an oven, but uh, get us out please.” buck says. “temps hit 115°”

————————————————————————

heavy breaths and panting have become the only noise in the room. the heat was becoming unbearable, and faith was shrinking as the fire grew. the bangs and hits from outside became almost irrelevant to the heating thoughts in their thumping heads.

“this was not on my bingo card for this year.” buck tries joking around, but neither feels like it anymore.

“save your oxygen, honey.”

“just tell me to shut up, y/n.”

“alright, shut up buck.” she forces out a little smile while slumped against the wall. audrey was their concern, but she seemed to be in the same condition and there was nothing they could do. “i’m getting tired, that’s bad, huh?”

“hey, no, you have to stay awake. we have to get out of here, everyone’s working on it, right?”

“there’s no way they gave up.”

after a few more minutes, feeling like lightyears, they hear several loud hits to the weakest parts of the door. they see something wedge the door, but it’s almost like the heat and stress of the room have closed out their senses to get up and check. with several buttons of their tops undone to try and cope with the heat, they stay still in their spots, losing more and more energy.

the door busts up, and the garage door is thrown up, dents on the outside from the smashing and banging. the vision of the couple fades as they see eddie and chimney walking toward them, helping them both stand up and carry them out. two more paramedics help audrey, removing her from the garage and placing her in an excellent ambulance.

everyone from 118 and even the cops on the scene watch with amazement as the pair comes out in almost full gear, decked with sweat and taking short, slow breaths.

“severe dehydration and heat exhaustion, get them in the ambulance and crank the air conditioning. get them fluids and oxygen masks now!” chimney leads people to each other and y/n and buck sit in their own ambulances.

the relief in their bodies takes a few minutes, but eventually, the moisture evaporates and their heads clear out of the smokey heat. y/n, placed with hen in the truck, asks, “is buck ok? he was really hot, hen. he was so hot in that garage and audrey! is she doing ok, she didn’t look too bad in there, she had fewer layers but still-“

“they’re all okay, y/n. you did well in there. that’s a pretty badass story, too, stuck in an oven basically.” y/n looks out the doors to the ambulance and sees the contained fire, no longer roaring at the garage doors and the ceiling.

“can i see ev?” was her last question. and work from eddie is the same thing happened in his aid car.

“audrey’s good right?” buck asks eddie, pulling the mask away from his mouth.

“she’s fine buck, just relax.”

“where’s y/n? she was sweating a lot in there, barely heard me in there, is she alright?”

being able to stand up strong enough, y/n sneaks her way over to buck. she steps up into the ambulance. “sup, eddie.”

“sup, lava girl.” he teases. “i’ll leave you guys, keep that mask on, buck, or i swear to god-“

“bye eddie!” buck waves to him, smiling and putting the mask back around his mouth.

“pretty bad day, huh?”

“no, not at all.” buck says, surprising y/n. “you were in there with me.”

y/n lets out a cheeky grin at buck and sits closer to him. “you know i love you right?”

“of course, i know that, we just got cooked like hot dogs in there together,” she laughs and he looks into her shining eyes and red face. “and i love you, and i really hope you know that.”

“oh i know,” she says, leaning in to land a light kiss on his lips. he leans more into the kiss as it transforms into a far more passionate one than intended.

“hey!” hen yells from outside. “i left you alone for one minute and you’re already making out where i did not leave you!”

“i’d say sorry but…”

“save it, does eddie know you’re in here too?”

“yeah? he was here when i came in.”

“oh, ok then. diaz!” hen yells and walks away.

“someone’s in trouble with mama hen.” buck jokes and he brings her in for another kiss. “i heard someone say i was pretty hot in there, you didn’t have to flatter me like that.”

y/n slaps his shoulder and chuckles at his sly comments about himself. “i guess you did look pretty hot, but not as hot as that garage, baby.” she caresses the side of his face.

“oh i know somewhere else that gets hotte-“

“buck!” eddie’s voice echoes through the street, looking at buck with his hands thrown in the air. “really? what did i tell you? mask!”

buck shakes his head and then eddie points at y/n. “and you! you made me get in trouble with hen.” he starts walking toward the two of them.

“ok, maybe i should leave for my own ambulance.” she pecks his lips again and skips out of his truck.

“dirty fools, you two.” buck shakes his head and eddie smirks at the two, admiring the relationship they have together.

[fillinforlater]

Just Testing continues...

(READ THIS FOR CONTEXT LOLOLOL)

He looks like an addict who got another dose injected right into his veins. His hair is wild and all over the place, his eyes unfocused and euphoric, his movements uncoordinated and—he is gone. You follow him quickly, leaving two girls complaining and one in the mannequin-like state from before. Their voices become background noise and then an afterthought when you find yourself in the wide hallway from before.

“You better have something interesting,” you snark when the director excitedly points at the same room you fucked Tiffany’s face in. “You just pulled me out of heaven, this better be good.”

“Well, you might need a towel for this one,” the co-host jokes. 

You enter the room confused at those words. There is no water in it, but what looks like a thick salmon-colored blanket rolled out from one end of the room to the other. You wonder what it might feel like to fuck on this fluffy feather-filled futon, when an unexpected shove on your back reminds you that this is what you are here for.

“What the fuck?” you shout once, then twice on impact. It’s not a futon, more a waterbed filled with something similar to water but definitely not water. Stiff and less comfortable to what you were looking for. This was not in the script. 

“It’s filled with lube,” another familiar girl says. “See?” 

She slams down the pointy end of her heels dangerously close to your crotch and watches the clear, slightly viscous liquid spill out of it. Before you can react to the surprisingly warm lube hitting your skin, she starts to pounce on you, soft fingers not-so-softly wrapped around your throat.

“Yu-Yuri, what the he—st-op that!”

“Make me.”

Like so many girls today, Yuri squats down. However, she is the first to press her clothed pussy onto your cock while boring more holes for lube to spill and shoot out. The more pressure she puts on you, the wetter the surface becomes. 

Your first attempts at freeing yourself are futile, everything is slippery, nothing gives you the stability to get upright. Especially Yuri’s arm, thighs and high boots make your fingers slip again and again while she goes in again and again to attack your chest and shoulder with nibbles and quick bites.

“F-fuck you, you bitch!”

Finally, you get a hold of something. Your hands slip into the openings of Yuri’s white, now see-through bodysuit and with all your might you yank her to the side. More and more lube swells out and now Yuri has trouble getting up. Her heels get stuck in another set of holes and you finally have the upper hand, pinning her back down into the wet mess. 

"You think you got me, huh?" Yuri barks at you, realizing that it's her turn now to lose grip on oily skin. 

"Oh no, I guarantee I got ya."

Spin Yuri round and around in the puddle below her lilith frame, find that her shorts have a conveniently placed zipper on their backside. Open up, press her down, until enough lube has come out to cover her small ass. Inserting will be the easiest part, it's a lot harder to keep the brat down, especially when she suddenly starts swimming in the viscous lake.

“Oh-oh my God, i-it’s so big,” Yuri screams out, clenching around your unstoppable member creeping deeper into her anal cavity. A variety of wet sounds soon fill the microphones and the headphones of horny consumers, who’d love to see more of Yuri’s small, yet perfect bottom. Sadly, she still wears those damn white shorts. At least those with a thing for heels will have the time of their lives. 

“Stop being such a bitch, Yuri,” you groan into her ear, her body firmly trapped beneath you. In the meantime, your hands attempt the impossible task of controlling her slick hair or slicker hands. “If you behave, I’ll make you cum.”

“Y-you can never make me cum!”

“I bet you are already so clo—hey!”

In a moment of pride and distraction by the insanely pleasurable way her asshole narrows and widens, Yuri is able to crawl forward, out of the pit of lube and sweat, onto a flat part of the excessively large waterbed. She did not make it very far, so you reach for her shorts and try to pull her back. However, in an unforeseen twist that will leave everyone satisfied, the shorts come off, slide down Yuri’s legs and get tangled up with her high boots. Yuri tries to escape further, but you basically have her on a leash and easily pull her back into her cage—the pit beneath your body.

“Okay, okay, I give up, don’t hurt me please” Yuri begs and looks at you with wide open eyes. “You can do whatever you want with me.”

“Then be a good girl and scream and cream while Daddy fucks your tight little ass-pussy.”

Woah, where did that come from? Not in the script, but now it’s too late to take it back. Better follow it up with something distracting, no one will notice if you’re playing it cool now. How can they forget about your misuse of the parental replacement word, when Yuri follows your command without fail and even puts in extra effort each time you fill her fully?

“Daddy, yes, Daddy! D-destroy my ass, use it as your hole, I-I’m your—”

A sudden pause, Yuri must be very close.

“Hm? I’m waiting,” you tease her and stop your annihilation of her wrong-but-right hole. 

“I-I’m your slut, Daddy, your pleasure girl! Fuck my ass-pussy—fuck, harder, Daddy, harder!”

Fuck it, this stays in the final cut. Not only because you don’t want to let this lube-filled waterbed idea go to waste, but also because Yuri is the literal definition of a slut for a Daddy. Overused kink or not, they will lap it up like hungry dogs anyways.

Yuri’s moans grow in pitch, in loudness, while her ass grows in tightness. She is riding the edge, while you ride her ass, it has to end somewhere, in absolute bliss. Daddy’s little pleasure girl, a slut fitting for his cock needs to cum violently, or else she isn’t really useful.

“Then cum like a slut!

“Cum for Daddy!”

Yuri still twitches and whines on the red plastic, when you get up and grab a nearby towel to dry yourself. One towel is not enough, you need two, three before you can walk on the smooth tiles without the constant threat of slipping. Ignore the words coming from the co-hosts mouth, something something ‘first time’, something something ‘gentle, careful’, why is he talking so much right now? Nod along and enter a room with an atmosphere cold and uneasy like north kor—the north pole, of course.

“Hi, I’m Sullyoon,” a girl quickly says, barely getting her words louder than a whisper. She stands in the corner of the room, politely smiling at you, but hesitant to get closer. Her legs fidget in place and her fingers rub the plain brown skirt nervously. 

"Hey, no need to hide it," you tell her with a bright grin to ease the tension roaming her body. "You're nervous, I can see it."

"Ye-yeah, a little bit," Sullyoon admits, averting her gorgeous face when you approach her.

"That is completely fine and very understandable. I think everyone feels unsure about their first time."

Gently place a hand on her shoulder. Sullyoon squirms, her feet shuffle closer together, her puppy-like eyes shimmer with uncertainty. Such a great actress.

"We don't have to continue this," you whisper.

"But wouldn't that put you, give you like trouble?" she returns the whisper. "I don't wanna cause problems."

"I should be the least of your concerns, Sullyoon. Think about what you want and don't be ashamed to tell me."

Sullyoon stares down to your semi-erect cock, her finger hesitantly reaching for it. She then looks to the camera, the formerly pale face in a rosy hue.

"I want to try it, I mean, try to put it in my mouth."

"You're cute, Sullyoon, and brave. Just pinch me when things go too far."

"Like this?" she giggles and giggles a bit louder when you hiss and jump at her nails pinching your thigh. Anything to make her feel secure and to lighten the mood.

"Yes, yes, I see you're good at that. Now, how about you try to get down? You can hold onto this… wall for stability."

Sullyoon takes labored breaths when she is eye to eye with your you-know-what. Who can blame here? Its semi-hard state is still enough to dwarf her hand and fill most of her mouth. Sullyoon knows, thus she remains cautious. First, the tip of her tongue on your tip, tickling your slit gently, while you gently pat her head.

"This is nice," you hum slowly.

"Does it really feel good?"

You nod to Sullyoon's innocent question and feel her grow more confident with each lick, until she puckers her lips to let you enter. Instead of bobbing her head up and down like the more experienced actresses, Sullyoon stays motionless, except for her tongue swirling tornado-like.

"Hm, try, try taking more of it," you encourage her, but Sullyoon shakes her head.

"I-I'm scared. C-can you take the lead?"

"Uhm, sure. First, I need you to spit on it."

Sullyoon makes this adorable expression when she gathers water in her mouth, then lewdly unleashes it onto your base, missing most of your shaft.

"Oops, sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"No no, just—drool on it. God, you're fucking cute like this."

Rub Sullyoon's cheek. There she goes, trying to hide her embarrassment behind quick actions, but you see right through it. The clear string of drool leaking down her lower lip engulfs your glans, then the rest when you put your shaft inside her.

Well played, all the faux innocence and shyness. Sullyoon is a professional, and like a professional she knows how to struggle while not struggling. Gawk gawk, you could go faster and fuck those plump lips, ruin what might look pure but surely isn't. However, you are supposed to have different plans. 

Don't fuck over the director again, so you slow down a bit and coo to Sullyoon who coughs, coughs, coughs, tears in her orbs, the dozen of times you've seen it today alone. Now you have to pretend to care.

"Everything alright, sweetie?" Play with her pink lips. "You are doing great by the way."

"Thanks. I think you can go harder."

Oh no, who would have thought? This is ridiculous, but they don't need to know. They just have to imagine themselves in your shoes, they are actually the one thrusting, filling a virgin mouth with their girth, and the cute girl loves it. She wants them to take her rougher, claim her; the only one claiming her is you.

Bulge her cheek, a slip up perfect for the camera. It moves from her face to her throat where you bulge again and she gurgles. When a mixture of pre-cum, leftover lube and, of course, Sullyoon's sweet spit land on the lens, you have to cover your mouth to muffle your laughs. Those laughs are suddenly moans, when Sullyoon eagerly sucks faster than you can thrust.

"Oh shit~ Would you look at that, she can do it on her own.

"Quick learner."

Feed into the lies one final time, fondle her dark brown hair one final time, hear her gag one final time—time to leave her tender, warm upper cavern for what you know will be warm too.

"Any other tips for the first blowjob?"

Your co-host’s constant interruptions and unnecessary questions have become stale and almost as annoying as his creepy face peeking in the frame from time to time. In their haze, some might not notice, others on the other hand might get annoyed, so you have to show them how to ignore him. Let’s be honest, they are only here for the testing, so you will give them exactly that.

When the following room was pitched to you, you were excited. When the responsible manager told you the actress they’d like to have for this scene, you became ecstatic. One of your favorites in a cozy room, the temperature meticulously adjusted to the point you can’t feel where your skin ends and the air begins. You don’t walk into the room, you melt into it, becoming one with your surroundings.

“It’s a high pleasure to see you again, Hitomi,” you greet, voice exalted and booming. “I hope you're comfortable and equally excited.”

Hitomi grins cutely, the upper row of her flawless teeth shines white like the snow. She has her head turned to watch you over her shoulders. Her petite frame is bare on the floor which is the right amount warmer than the air to keep the coldest feet warm and her body in heat. 

“I came all the way from Japan for my massage,” she giggles and you lean down to kiss her. Straight on the lips, dive to the cheek, then back on the lips. The two of you have a perfect understanding of the others preferences, so there is nothing that can go wrong. Hitomi is smooth sailing, every part of her body is a feast for your eyes, and you can’t help but show her off. 

“Show me your abs again, please,” you whisper. Hitomi hushes you with a motion, her arms around your nape, her tongue on your lips, her body easy to lift up from the ground. When the short girl is on her feet, you turn her nude body to the camera. Wordlessly, your fingers indicate the perfections: hard abs as mountains and valleys for sweat to run over, almost flat tits with hard nipples in a faint pink, the elegantly trimmed bush above her tight innie. 

“Magnificent, absolutely astonishing.” Your ravishing compliments are cut short by Hitomi getting back into her initial prone position.

“Thank you a lot, darling, but I thought you were here to test me.

“Put it in, pretty please~?”

The significantly shorter japanese girl can grab you and throw you like a ragdoll from one fever dream into the next; you don’t oppose it, you long for it. The way her tiny butt wraps around your enormous length, the way she squeals at first, just to fall into bliss and moan like a cockslut, it’s what you would call greatness. 

Things get even greater when your blurry vision finds the two purple braids on Hitomi’s head. They bounce in the same rhythm as she does, as you do, and with a simple tug they stop. Hitomi gasps, the unexpected pain scaring her. You quickly let go of them, apologetically fucking her asshole faster.

“D-don’t let go. Hold them, pull them!"

Hitomi's chest rises from the ground, her screams not muffled from the heated floor and instead sent to the ceiling. The more your fingers entwine with the braids, the tighter she becomes. This is new, something fresh for your friends-with-benefits relationship. Things will never get boring with Hitomi.

"Her snug hole is good, fuck."

Spread her ass cheeks, spread her legs for the camera to film the penetration. The soft skin tries to milk you, pull you back in and you gladly surrender to another slam, followed by another, and another. 

"This is the best!" Hitomi groans, the only not obscene words in between all her grunts and groans.

"Fuck, it is. The floor, this ass, y-you're too good, I'm so close."

"Time to fulfill your promise." That was not Hitomi’s voice. Who the hell—

"N-Nayeon?!"

Out of nowhere, Nayeon wraps her arm around your throat and forces you to pull out. Your throbbing, swollen, burning cock is about to burst, which is why Nayeon does not waste a second. She gets in position right next to a trembling, sulking Hitomi. Your crotch instinctively turns towards her face, that stupidly gorgeous, slutty face. Her tongue hangs from her lips and like a mindless maniac she jerks you off.

Pain, so much pain. This is what some artists were talking about. Pain and painting are eerily similar, Nayeon's pale face and an empty canvas too. From her temple hidden behind thin strands of gold hair to her pointy chin, your paint brush erupts the watery-white color on her, but as expected, she does not stop there. 

Nayeon rubs your cock from side to side, smearing her entire gleeful face until your knees give out and you stumble backwards into the awaiting arms of a staff member. It's out of the camera's point of view, so luckily the footage isn't ruined by your ugly, breathless expression, though Nayeon's game is not yet over.

"Thank you for keeping your promise~"

"What, what pro-mise?" you stutter.

"Don't you remember?" Nayeon pouts. "Last time you creamed my pussy and afterwards told me you'd have some for my face soon. Does ‘Beverly Hills mansion’ ring a bell?"

"Ah… I guess… yeah."

She is oblivious to you dying under her semen-glazed nose. You know she is not the last, there is still a way to go until you can finally rest, but how? It's impossible, you can barely move, your loins are on fire, your mouth is dry—

A bucket of cold water. Dunk your head in it, lap some of the life-saving elixir, cool off the roaring fire on your skin. A close call, Nayeon made you go up in flames and she is ready to do it again. Your eyes have been purified by the clean water, just for Nayeon to dirty them again. She collects some of your seed from her soft features with two fingers and quickly shoves them into Hitomi’s ass. The japanese girl whimpers when Nayeon doesn’t stop drilling it deep down.

“U-unnie~!”

The way she smacks Hitomi’s ass with the back of her hand while blowing bubbles with the cum dripping into her mouth is a dagger. Your mind goes blank. Someone somehow shoves a blue pill in your mouth. The camera is oblivious to what you do, still focusing on Nayeon. She fingers, she licks, she hums, all for the fans, all for Hitomi to not go without her fair share of pleasure. 

In the hallway is a table. Two members of staff sprint away when you sprint towards it, eager to test the extraordinary effects of the pill. They have just brought in the table, unfortunately the test object is still missing. She is still backstage, still on her phone, still dressed for crying out loud. Step through wires and confused stylists, slap the phone out of her hand, she yelps.

“Hey, what are you—wait, huh?”

A perk of your Asia Tour: all the girls are small and light. The same goes for this one, you easily pick her up and place her down on the table. Her hips instinctively rise up, you can unbuckle her belt and get rid of her gray denim shorts. 

“Okay what the fuck is this?” you growl at her and reach in between the voluptuous buttocks and pull at a red thong.

“I thought you’d like it,” the girl sulks and wiggles her trunk seductively.

“I’d like it if it was the same color as this.”

‘This’ is Chaeryeong’s ass. ‘This’ gets a harsh spank that wakes up the camera crew from their Nayeon-Hitomi-induced trance. They run over to film Chaeryeon’s blissful face as you beat her ass violently, changing up your hands and targets until it’s red all over. Not necessarily the crimson red of her thong, but it will do. Pull it aside to find her desperate, delicious-looking hole, begging to be stretched. 

Chaeryeong’s dazed eyes shoot wide open when you widen the circumference of her ring with your cock, hammering away with the same unrelenting force you hit her ass with. The table creaks and sways, definitely not made for this, but for the sake of science you won’t stop turning it into plywood.

“Stupid bitch with a fat ass!”

That was her scream, and she is goddamn right. Every moan by Chaeryeong and every gasp from behind the scenes further encourages you to break through. Don’t worry about her butt, it’s thorough usage can be seen in all kinds of amateur and professional videos. Don’t worry about the table either, you're just testing its durability. When the first wooden leg begins to splinter, you know it’s over.

“Verdict,” you growl through gritted teeth grinding the great depths of Chaeryeong’s rectum. “An absolute failure.”

“Yes!” she screams, holding onto the table’s edge for fake stability. “I’m useless, just a trunky butt for people to breed!”

“No, not you, the damn tabl—”

Right on que, the wooden structure breaks in two, three, more and more pieces. At this point you might as well beat Chaeryeong’s ass on the marble floor, it’s natural coldness could heal the sore parts a bit. She seems to be the person who is the most opposed to this however. Her hole sucks you back in, telling you to annihilate it and Chaeryeong’s vocal cords until the next scene starts.

“Don’t stop hitting it, I deserve it!” Chaeryeong babbles. “Break me like the table!”

You find yourself in a dilemma: On one hand you could do this all day, the continuous pump and smack, on the other hand you fear for both your and her health. Your hands and her ass have the same burning red color, they need a rest, some distance from each other. The clacks of plastic shoes save you from this addictive, yet dangerous session.

“Enough Chaery—” Sakura complains in a stern, sexy voice. “—more cherry.”

You watch intently as Sakura gets in position. You did not notice her carrying a glass bowl of fresh cherries as well as a bottle of spray cream, both of which she places down before her. In the crouching position, her pink miniskirt made of wool hugs her slender body perfectly, the checkered crop-top meanwhile forms a contrast as it makes her chest look extra big with its bagginess. 

Sakura reaches for two of the cherries, fully ignoring you approaching her and leaving behind a mewling Chaeryeong, ready for more. You can’t give the horny brunette more, she had her turn with you, though there seems to be someone willing to relieve her remaining horniness. 

“Hold still.”

Tiffany. Where did she come from? She must have teleported behind Chaeryeong, pushing aside some of the rubble to get her face up close with the younger girl's ass. She puts her nose on the gaped hole and accompanies her tongue brushing over Chaeryeong’s slit with an echoing slap to her bottom.

“Hey, keep your eyes on me!” Sakura angrily whispers, but it’s hard to oblige her. To get you back into the scene, she has to go all out. Both cherries find their way to her sweet lips. They have a very similar, though be it a bit darker color, and they engulf the fruits. Sakura pulls off the stems, then roughly pulls your cock closer to her mouth. 

You surrender to her idea. The woman in her legendary golden hair is well-known to take the lead. After some adjusting, you find your tip disappearing into Sakura’s mouth, her cheeks bulging from the inside thanks to the cherries resting in each of them. You feel the firm skin of the fruits press down on the sides of your member, an astonishingly different sensation from everything that happened before. 

“Oh fuck,” you groan in bliss.

“Oh fuck!” Chaeryeong screams in lust. You can’t help but turn your head and look over your shoulder as Tiffany rams a strapon into her Dongsaengs awaiting butthole. 

Sakura’s hands reach for your butt, mercilessly digging her nails into the skin and forcing you further down her throat. You meet her angry, tearfilled orbs as she gags on your erection. Throw your head back. The cherries have your base in a tight choke-hold, sort of like a cock ring. 

“F-fuck, I’m sorry, Sa-Sakura,” you apologize. “I did not know y-you were into foodplay.”

Not only your member, also the two fruits fall out of Sakura’s mouth when she backs off. The heavy coughing does not prevent her from catching them. Full of concern you want to reach down, but suddenly her fingers craze your balls.

“Put them in your mouth and shut up.”

Take the two red, fruity objects and follow her instructions. Sakura pulls up the bottle of spray cream and rapidly shakes it up and down. Something something ‘can you do that to my cock, please?’ but you can’t say that, unless you have a death wish. A few seconds later, Sakura aligns the tip of the bottle with your base and sprays a perfectly straight line of whipped cream up to your tip. It’s freezing cold, you hiss and accidentally bite into the juicy flesh of the cherries.

You have a taste, Sakura has a taste. She slurps the white treat off of your cock, licks up the remnants with a quick deepthroat and immediately goes to repeat the process. This time, your more sensitive underside gets attacked by the coldness of the cream and then the hotness of her mouth and the strong slurps of her lips. You start to chew—hopefully Sakura does not. 

“Delicious. Finally, your dick tastes good.”

“E-excuse me?”

“I said—shut up! Who told you to eat those cherries?”

In her anger, Sakura spills some of the cream on her crop top. 

“Ah fuck. All because of you, you stupid moron!”

“S-sorry…”

Sakura sighs and pops open the two buttons holding the crop top together. The handful of her breast looks ready to be glazed and licked, but instead of her cherry-red nippled you bite on cherry-red cherries.

“At least make yourself useful.”

Sakura opens her mouth wide. She sends lots and lots of white stuff into it; not the kind of white stuff you’d like her to eat, but the way she fills her mouth with whipped cream looks insanely hot. The moment she is finished you put your cock up to the stuffed cavern and fuck into it. 

Like an avalanche, the cream topples down to Sakura’s chest, hitting her nubs, making her squirm. This elegant woman has never looked messier. She is certainly no stranger to weird, chaotic shoots, but never has her mouth been such an overflowing, dirty hole. Sakura chokes up some more when you finally reach the hot back of her throat, launching cream all over your crotch. 

This surely must be the finale, the last scene, because you need to clean up, need to take a break from it all. The final shot of Sakura’s face as you groan her name should be enough, an excellent fit for a thumbnail. It alone would sell a hundred-thousand copies, therefore no need for anymore, just please say cut!

“Here, you’ll need it.” Your co-host hands you a couple of wet wipes.

“What for?” you respond, the mask of acting not on your face, just exhaustion.

“The next test, of course.” He points to the far end of the hallway, the room next to the mirrors. “There is one more bed, one more person, I think you remember her?

“It was your idea, after all.”

“Mina.”

A nod. 

“Clean yourself, would be a pain in the ass for her if you didn’t, hehe.”

You might not have any other choice, but he definitely could have worded that better or not at all. However, it’s probably not on camera anyways because everyone’s eyes have switched back to Tiffany and Chaeryeong. The older has one leg of the younger on her shoulder while roughly penetrating the tight hole in a standing position. Chaeryeong’s sticky hands try to balance her numb body on the wall behind her, leaving her more vulnerable to the thrusts and consequentially, screaming louder than ever.

This is your chance to sneak away, and you take it. The best for your spent, hurt cock would be to flee the set altogether, but with only one more girl remaining, separating you from glory and a sweet, sweet paycheck, you decide to get it over with. In Mina’s room, the smell of a freshly washed bed and of a rose petal perfume pulls the brakes on your hastiness. You come to a halt, in awe at what’s before you.

“Hey~” Mina coos when she lifts her gorgeous face from the white sheets in which it was buried. She stretches her arms out and you see her eye-lashes flutter quickly.

“Have you been sleeping?” you ask her with a chuckle.

“Just dozing. Believe it or not, this bed is probably the best I have ever laid in.”

Inch closer and lean down to her face as Mina bites her lips and tugs away the blonde, no, golden hair behind her cute ears. Though it’s just as bright as the pillows, blankets and the metal frame of the bed, her hair still has the biggest contrast to it all. Mina’s pale skin and white, oversized shirt camouflage her very well. 

“I’d love to make a cringe joke out of what you just said, but to be honest, I don’t want to hear them anymore. It’s been a long day.”

“Aw, I really wanted you to follow it up with the ‘get laid’, but nevermind. Where is the camera?”

“It will be here in a second. We should get ready—only if you are really, really certain, one-hundred percent positive though.”

Mina rolls her eyes and rubs your abs tenderly, gasping at the sweat and the remnants of other liquids on them.

“You sound like your manager. I signed the papers, all the agreements and contracts and the other bullshit. Usually, boys don’t ask ten times before they go for it.”

“Understandable, with that ass of yours.”

“I knew you’d get it.” 

Mina pulls the hem of her shirt up to expose her round, juicy ass to you. Reach over to it and fondle it while you walk around the bed behind her. Hasty steps echo through the hallway, the crew must be on their way. In the last seconds of uninterrupted intimacy, you nuzzle down to Mina’s ear while your cock is already trapped in between her cheeks. 

“Congrats on debuting. Everyone will see that your pure-looking face and bubble-butt were made for porn.”

Your final growl leaves Mina trembling, her ass jiggles, her orbs find the lense of an unsteady camera peeking through the door. Triumphantly, you wave the cameraman over to you. He takes deep breaths, keeps the camera focused on Mina’s body, so you can start the final testing session.

“We’ve seen so much today,” you announce with your best impression of a CEO giving a year-end speech. “Too many crazy ideas, crazy girls—it’s time to get back to the fundamentals. A bed, simple and comfortable and a woman, pretty and horny. Nothing more,—”

You spread Mina’s cheeks apart, spit on the beautiful tight ring and find the perfect angle to get inside her. 

“—nothing less.”

Repeat what you have done fourteen damn times today. You can use flattering words, exquisite or humorous remarks, suddenness or gracefulness, in the end it’s all hard buttfucking. They are here for it, seeing a huge ass ripple, a beautiful girl moan, a cock move in and out—as long as the neuron activation hits, they won’t be able to resist it. 

“Isn’t she the one and only acceptable pick for this bed?” you ask the audience as Mina’s ecstatic moans bounce off the walls. “The right color scheme, the same scent, similar addictiveness to use it—her—every night. Only the sheets have to get a bit more ruffled like her hair.”

Your fingers run through Mina’s angelice locks, making her raise her chin high towards the viewer's point of view. She is looking right into their soul, their tired, horny, blissful eyes of envy and adoration, whatever is left of them. They don’t need to be inside her tight ass, she can wring them dry with her allure alone. 

“How do you like your first on-cam cock, Mina?”

“It’s big—it’s so damn good, fuck.”

Grab Mina’s slutty little waist and pick up the pace. She digs her teeth into the sheets to muffle the loud noises from her mouth for whatever reason—it’s an amateur mistake. Everyone is too focused on her bottom anyways, especially you as your testing of her depth continues with a new-found final spurt of stamina. 

“The platonic ideal for a non-platonic relationship; a good fucking bed for a good fucking.” Your voice cracks, falls silent afterwards. The last seconds are nothing but pants and firm claps of skin on skin. Mina’s eyes roll into the back of her head, her slit leaks juices onto the bed. Thrusts, pumps, twitches, it all comes to an end in a gaping hole whose neediness mirrors that of Chaewon’s, Chaeryeon’s, Hitomi’s…

There you go. You did it, you fucking bastard. Fall unconscious as the director shouts ‘cut’, your life has to end right on cue. It’s ironic, the audience will only notice you throughout the video; what happens afterwards is irrelevant. You are basically dead. 

You are basically dead—unless some of the porn sites freeze and the poor, horny soul has to stare at it forever until regretfully smashing their device to bits, never daring to repair it. Oh no, they might have to admit to watching porn to some random repairman, how scandalous. 

You are scandalous, holding onto a pillow at night, wishing for someone to be there for more than mere sex. Although you love doing it and could do it all the time, there is no love in it. Even a robotic, seemingly heartless sex machine like you wants some love, some cuddles, some kisses—

“Where is this pretentious buffoon?”

“Yeah, I want to beat his ass as well; idiot thinks he can just cum on me and leave, ts.”

“I’ll put him out of his misery after the two of you are done.”

Three women stand in the frame of the door. Befitting of her character, Wonyoung was the first to speak to you and is currently the first to climb onto the bed. Her thin body is once again wrapped in the black suit, but her fabulous legs are on full display and kick you down into the mattress as she towers over you.

The second to speak was Seungyeon, who utters more and more complaints while getting closer to the bed until Wonyoung hushes her with a deadly glare. From then on, Seungyeon focuses on showing you her reserved anger in a different way: she uses both hands to press your chest down and immobilize you fully. 

The last to speak was Tiffany. She pays you no mind, instead sitting down next to the still dazed Mina and carefully pats the younger’s head. Strange, she is never this wholesome with you, but with a newbie like Mina it’s no problem? Maybe she really wants to put you out of your misery today.

“Wh-what is happening?” Mina asks, utterly confused as she watches you staring at Seungyeon’s bare tits swinging right over your face. “I thought the shoot was over.”

“Oh it is, sweetie,” Tiffany smiles, while Wonyoung goes to stroke your dick with both her hands and slowly crouches down towards it. “We are just testing.”

“Testing what?”

“Testing when this imbicel’s heart will stop from cumming too much.”

“Won-Wonyoung, please, no!”

Your plea goes unheard—it’s on tape nonetheless. 

Fin

(A/N3: Thank you for reading this mess!)

[yenqa]

cranberry juice

sypnosis : riki’s prank goes too far… and suddenly you’re ignoring him! how will he fix this?

warnings : more angsty than i thought it would be, enemies to enemies, uhh public embarrassment, tears mentioned, uhh i think thats it

wc : 0.6k

pairing : riki x afab!reader

a/n : again anon im so sorry for the waif and how its kind of rushed :( thank u for being so patient with me

“god why are you always studying?”

riki plants himself down onto the empty seat in front of you, putting a deep red drink onto the lunch table.

you internally groan, placing your textbook onto the table.

“i don’t have time for you riki.” you say firmly, he laughs.

“why don’t you call me niki? what- do you want my attention that bad?”

he has that stupid smirk he always has, taking a gulp of that mysterious burgundy colored drink.

“you wish,” you reply.

you stare at the drink, considering all the options it could be. wine? no he’s still in school, pomegranate? maybe.

“want some of my cranberry juice sweetheart?”

cranberry juice, you didn’t necessarily liked how the taste of it. it was weirdly bitter, and left a horrible taste in your throat.

“i’m good” you give him a disgusted look.

“are you sure look- doesn’t it look good?”

he shoves the open bottle onto your uniform, staining the light colored skirt you had happened to wear that day. you stand up, the liquid quickly falls on the floor, leaving a bright red stain in the middle of your skirt.

he laughs loudly gaining the attention of the many others around you. they giggle and laugh at the sight of you, covered in the unknown bright red liquid to them.

“god- what is wrong with you riki?” you quickly grab a napkin, wiping off whatever you could.

he smirks at your anger, throwing his shoulders up.

“looks like someone forgot a pad!” someone yells out.

you suddenly become aware of the situation around you, many eyes stare at you as you walk from the opposite side of the cafeteria to the office, where hopefully they’ll allow you a change of clothes.

the laughs continue to grow as you walk quickly to the office, leaving you with tears that start to swell as you push open the doors.

🍷

the sweatpants the office had gave you weren’t horribly bad, but were certainly spirited.

walking around with text that boldly said “DECELIS HIGH SCHOOL” was better than a burgundy stained skirt, so you took your chances.

“hey you got free pants?” niki teases, the smirk ever so present on his face.

he waits for your reply, but is met with a cold shoulder.

you couldn’t see how his smirk slightly falls, or how he fails to keep his eyebrows for furrowing as he watches you pull open the door to your next class.

he figures you just didn’t hear him, brushing it off for next time.

you shared the last period of the day with him, and fortunately for you, he sits behind you!

you internally groan, placing down your bag and grabbing a pencil.

surprisingly, the ignore tactic works. he eventually gives up in the middle of class, letting you have some peace.

after class you rush out of the class as quick as you can, speed walking to the entrance doors and leaving the building.

you hear someone chasing after you, you look around to see the per som you would expect least, riki.

“look y/n i’m sorry-“

you roll your eyes, taking a few steps away before he stops you, gripping tightly on your arm.

“y/n i really didn’t mean for the prank to go that far, i’m sorry for spilling the cranberry juice on you. will you forgive me?”

you’re shocked, riki? apologizing to you?

“uhm- i’ll think about it,” you walk away, leaving riki with a slight sulk to his walk.

riki soon picks himself up, realizing that you didn’t hate him if you were considering it. he smiles, telling himself to never bring cranberry juice again.

perm taglist : @jwnghyuns @ja4hyvn @trsrina @redm4ri @badmuni

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Series Masterlist

*Click here to be added to taglists.

Chapter 10

Warnings: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SA. Please venture forth with caution. Other warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; panic attacks; allusions to previous SA

You rushed into your cell, getting into a physical altercation with the sheet over the door when you became tangled in your haste. Tossing your clothes into the corner, you scrambled up to your top bunk and sat against the wall with your knees pulled to your chest. 

Carol stood by the small table, simply blinking. “I thought you were gonna shower.” 

You were too shaken to produce a logical response. “I, um, changed my mind. I’ll…I’ll do it in the morning.” Had you looked at your roommate, you would have seen the clear skepticism in her expression. 

“Are you okay?” She queried. 

“Um, yeah. Yeah.” You answered with zero confidence. You were honestly the furthest thing from okay. Daryl had just said your name while pleasuring himself. But why? He had rejected your attempts to do what you were purchased for, assuring you that he didn’t see you like that. You had never lost that feeling of dreaded expectation, convinced that he was biding his time. Did this mean you were right? Was he waiting for you to be alone and vulnerable?

A rapping of knuckles against the bars on the other side of the sheet that provided the thinnest layer of security for you startled you from your thoughts. You could no more than watch as Carol approached the doorway. 

“Daryl. Hey, I’m glad you’re here. I need to talk to you. Why are you wet?” 

Your breaths came faster, your heart pounding in your ears. No, Carol was safe. Carol had promised. 

“Grabbed a shower. This yers?” 

Your eyes were the size of saucers when Carol took the towel and looked back at you, eyeing you suspiciously for the briefest of moments. Then smiling Carol was back, accepting the colorful towel. You realized he probably thought it was hers because of her penchant for flowers. 

“Yes, I must’ve dropped it when I was gonna take a shower earlier, but remembered that I needed to…do something…else.”

Ouch. That was horrible. And obviously hard to believe since Daryl was looking at her with that arched eyebrow. 

“Y’alrigh’?”

“I’m fine, Daryl. Just tired.” Carol folded the towel neatly and let it drape over her arm. 

“What’d ya need ta talk ‘bout?” 

“You know, it can wait. I need to get to bed and you need to get to…well, probably not sleeping because you’re you.”

“Whatever.” He scoffed, clearly not upset, and started away from the doorway. 

“Night, Daryl.”

“Mhm, night.” 

Carol smiled until the sheet fell closed and then promptly chucked the towel at your head. “Changed your mind?!” She whisper-yelled. 

“I didn’t know! I…I didn’t hear the water at first!” You retorted at the same level. You had already started to cry, confused and embarrassed and on top of it all, scared. You couldn’t tell anyone what you had seen. Something was keeping Daryl from acting on his desires, a fact for which you weren’t sure you were relieved or disappointed. 

She had no idea why you were so upset when she climbed up into the bunk with you and pulled you into her side. “It’s okay.” She smoothed her hand over your hair and let you sniffle and quietly sob. “Did you see anything?”

Fuck. She just had to ask. You didn’t want to lie to her; never wanted to lie to her. Maybe just an omission would do? “I saw…scars.” The woman holding you flinched. She knew about them. Of course she did. They were close friends. “They look like mine.” You added softly. 

“Y/N, I can’t tell you about those. It’s not my story to tell. I can tell you that you shouldn’t mention them.” You sat back, watching her with red-rimmed eyes. “It’s a touchy subject for him. If he wants you to know, he’ll tell you.”

You nodded, feeling worse than you had initially, but at least it was over now. Carol patted your cheek and climbed down so you could slide under your blanket and get some rest. 

Neither of you were aware of the stealthy hunter that had been listening just outside the cell. 

Daryl had no idea how he was going to handle you that day. You had seen him in the shower. Claimed to only have seen his scars, which was bad enough, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew what else you saw but was left to wonder what you may have heard. 

His anxiety was eating him alive at that point. Maybe he could just say no for the day. Then Carol would be asking why. Maybe he should just tell her? No! If he could see the little devil on his shoulder, he’d punch the bastard. He could say he was sick. No, that wouldn’t be smart. Not after the flu fiasco. He’d just put everyone on edge. Maybe he could—

“Hi.”

Fuck. He hadn’t heard you approaching. This whole situation really had him thrown off. “Yer early.” He commented gruffly, hoping you’d go away and give him just a little bit longer to figure out something. He didn’t turn around, he couldn’t look at you. Not yet. 

“I’m…uh…I’m sorry.” You said in such a tiny voice that even he felt like shit. “I was, um, helping Carol with breakfast and, um, well, I didn’t have anything else to do, so I thought that m-maybe I could just go work on what you showed me yesterday until you were ready.” He could hear you moving around but then you stilled. “You, uh, you left this with me yesterday.” He knew he’d left the knife. He had wanted you to have it, something to make you feel safe. But he couldn’t just say that, could he?

God, he was in over his head. Why the fuck didn’t Carol just let him stay away from you?

He glanced over his shoulder to your petite hand, carefully holding the blade with the hilt toward him. He raised an eyebrow but didn’t have a chance to ask. 

“I didn’t, um, well…I wasn’t sure if you’d have me, uh, use it again today. So… I- I cleaned it for you.”

Why did that small gesture make his chest ache? Idiot, she’s bein’ nice. Girl still thinks ya bought her fer ya ta fuck n’ lock away. Daryl cleared his throat. “Nah, s’yers. Don’ need it no more. Got others.” Hopefully you took that as him being anything but nice. 

“Wow, th-thank you, Sir.” He clenched his fists and closed his eyes, counting down in his head. “I mean, I mean Daryl! I’m sorry.” You squeaked before he could even get to seven. Jesus, you sounded so afraid of him. 

He grunted, crossing his arms. Yep, that’s gon’ help her not be scared. “Le’s go, then.” He walked away toward the fences, not hearing your quick footfalls for a few moments. You tended to stay behind him, which he was grateful for and at the fences, you would be in front of him and clearing out walkers. That was also helpful. He was too concerned with safety to focus on anything else. 

When he stopped, he nearly flinched out of his skin when you actually came to stand beside him. Peripherally, he could see your big doe eyes shining up at him. “Same as yesterday?” You asked quietly. 

“Mhm.” When you walked ahead, he exhaled. Jesus, he needed a cigarette. He kept his eyes on you while pulling the pack from his vest pocket. From the feel of it, he’d need to make a run soon if he wanted more. There was probably a list of supplies that others needed, so he could take care of that while he was at it. 

He flicked the lighter to life and inhaled while the end of the smoke ignited, the first dregs of nicotine soothing his frazzled nerves. Christ, he’d never experienced this kind of inner turmoil over a woman before. Any sexual encounters he’d had before were no strings attached and usually only happened as a distraction while Merle was off getting high or getting fucked himself. 

“Again.” He ordered with smoke billowing from his mouth, blowing the remainder out once you moved to the next walker. You were off that day, your movements languid and uncoordinated when compared to the day before. The reason was obvious but you weren’t aware that he knew. Still, you pressed on each time he urged. You were pertinacious, he’d give you that. 

Until you came face to face with a corpse that appeared to be recently turned. Daryl straightened, on alert while you drove the blade home. He figured you’d have difficulty retracting the weapon from a skull that wasn’t soft with decomposition. 

“It’s stuck.” You turned to him for instruction, taking your eyes off the undead trying to get at you. A second was all it took for rotting fingers to find purchase in your tresses, yanking you against the fence. 

“Shit!” His cigarette fell, forgotten, his knife in hand. You were screaming, teeth clicking in your ear as another walker locked a fist in your hair. You released the knife in flight response, reaching behind your head for only a moment before Daryl was grabbing both of your wrists to pull them away from the jaws that would have easily taken a finger or two. He sliced through the fingers holding you and pulled you away from danger. 

Though you had stopped screaming, your sobs continued. The archer held you against him with one arm and pulled your knife free with his other hand, allowing the dead bastard to fall. He let the weapon clatter to the ground. He could come back for it later. “Y’alrigh’? Ya bit?”

Your hands were fisted tightly in his vest, your knuckles white. There were no visible marks, but it would be a good idea to let Hershel look you over anyway. 

“C’mon. I gotcha.” He never made you let go even after he scooped you up. Carol was running toward him and met him halfway to the prison. 

“Daryl, what happened?!” She was petting your hair and whispering softly while keeping up with the archer’s pace. 

“Couple walkers grabbed her. Don’ think she’s bit but doc should look at her anyway.” He kept his blue eyes on the door, avoiding the bundle in his arms. 

“Yeah, good idea.” Carol continued to try and calm you. “You’re okay. Daryl’s got you and I’m right here. You’re okay. Try to catch your breath.” When you didn’t, his friend looked to him. “She’s gonna hyperventilate if we don’t calm her down.”

Fuck. He stopped just outside the prison, still not looking down. “Y/N. Can ya feel me breathin’?” An almost imperceptible nod against his chest. “Wantcha ta try n’ match mine.” You struggled as he began to move, stepping inside once Carol opened the door. You still trembled but your panicked breaths were slowing. 

“That’s it.” Carol encouraged. “Keep trying to breathe like Daryl. Steady in and out.” She placed a hand on Daryl’s shoulder and squeezed then ran ahead, calling for the veterinarian. 

Daryl was approaching the cell block when you looked up at him, face red and cheeks wet. “I’m…I’m sorry, Daryl.”

Your apology befogged the archer. “Wha’ the hell fer?”

Your lip began to quiver just as he risked a glance at you. Shit. 

“I…I m-m-messed up tr-training.”

The archer’s eyes softened. It would have been impossible to prevent it. “We all have close calls.” He explained, his tone almost gentle. “I fell down a ravine once n’ stabbed myself with my own bolt.” Carol was at the cell door waiting when he came walking through. “Jus’ gotta keep yer guard up, okay?”

You nodded, finally releasing his vest to wipe at your mess of a face. Daryl placed you on the table for Hershel and stepped back next to Carol. 

“I’ll stay with her.” She said, not taking her eyes off of you. “I think Rick found some people today and brought them back. Think he may need a hand?” Daryl hummed but stayed rooted to the spot he occupied. “She’ll be fine, Pookie.” The point of her elbow found his ribs, resulting in a scowl aimed in her direction. “Go on.”

He couldn’t stay. Carol knew that too. You were likely to need to be undressed. Daryl turned and made his way out. “Lemme know.” He said without stopping, hearing Carol’s dismissive ‘mhm’ before he rounded the corner. 

Hershel had declared you to be in better health than you had been when you first arrived. You’d gained a little weight. Your hair wasn’t as dull. Your skin wasn’t as dry. In his opinion, your time spent there had done wonders. No injuries from the day’s disaster, aside from the emotional distress. He had recommended a light sedative and rest for the remainder of the day, but you insisted that you had more to learn, hopped off the table, and went to find Daryl. 

It was early evening, plenty of daylight left for more time at the fence. You were nervously wringing your hands as you searched outside without luck, venturing to areas you’d never been without Carol. Even in the daytime, the empty sections made your skin crawl. 

There was a stretch of concrete around one side that dipped into a wide alley of sorts. Carol would take you there sometimes to work on laundry when your anxiety was at distressing levels. It was unlikely you’d find Daryl there but it made sense that if Carol would bring you there for solitude, maybe the archer would visit for the same reason. 

You rounded the corner, looking over your shoulder to see if anyone you were familiar with was outside. You felt on edge going out of sight without someone escorting you. When you walked right into someone, you thought it was Daryl for the briefest of moments. 

“I’m so sorry!” You looked up to lock eyes with a man you had never seen before. “I didn’t… I-I’m sorry. I should—” You started to turn. Your heart was thundering behind your ribs. 

“Oh, hey, hey, hey!” The man placed a large hand on your shoulder and squeezed, the pressure uncomfortable, bordering on painful. “What’s your hurry, princess?” Your mouth moved but you couldn’t make your voice work. “Hey, Marvin, c’mere!”

“Who’s this?” The second man asked, reaching toward you to twirl a strand of your hair around his finger while the first led you further into the alley. “She’s awfully pretty, Lonny.”

“She sure is.” Lonny’s hand left your shoulder to wrap around your waist, pulling you along beside him. “What’s your name, doll?” You didn’t answer. You pressed the heels of your shoes into the concrete, trying to slow the journey or make him lose his grip. 

“Lonny and I are new here.”

“Mhm. That, we are.”

“Came in with a group today. Maybe you could give us the official welcome celebration.” 

“I need, um, I need to get back. Daryl. He’s gonna be looking for me.” You lied, hoping they had met the archer. You were nearly certain no one would fuck with you if they thought Daryl might come in search. 

“Daryl. Daryl. Which one was that, Marv?”

“The guy who asked us how many people we killed?” 

A hand wandered down your side and then under your shirt, roughly caressing the skin below your ribs. You made a distressed noise in the back of your throat, struggling in earnest to get away. Both men chuckled at your efforts. 

“Nah, I think it may have been mister crossbow.”

“You know, it’s funny. We got in here on a technicality.” You managed to slip out of their grasp, not waiting a single second before running toward the corner. 

“Help! Carol!” She had promised. She promised. “Hel—”

Something slammed into you from behind, sending you tumbling to the ground. You caught yourself on your palms, feeling the sting of the unforgiving concrete. Marvin crawled up to press you down with the weight of his body, laughing when you began to sob. 

“Y’see, we never killed any of them girls.” He licked the shell of your ear, the sound alone making your stomach turn. “We did what we wanted and then left ‘em for the dead to enjoy.��

“Get her pants off.” Lonny ordered. You could hear the shuffle of clothing, the frictional drag of a zipper. You kicked and shouted; tried crawling away when you had no time to get to your feet. 

“Keep her still!”

Your hair was tugged harshly before your face was slammed against the ground. White hot pain permeated through your skull before a blissful numbness. Time seemed to pass in clouded fragments, pieces missing that left the events incomplete. The feel of fabric sliding down your legs. Muted voices and laughter. Pain, dulled but consistent. 

A brief reprieve of just nothing. 

Your eyes peeled open slowly, the pain registering before your vision gave you anything but a blurry mess of colors. There was a wet burn between your legs, which were bare and being scraped by the rough texture of the concrete. You managed a whine and pulled your hands up beside your head, clawing at the ground to try and drag yourself away from the rough digits scratching against your inner walls. 

“Don’t fuck it up too much, man.”

“Looks like someone already did that.”

The sob that broke from your lips was accompanied by a wrecked version of ‘ow.’ There was blood below your face, you could feel its stickiness on your skin; the way your tears carved through it. 

Carol had promised. You were meant to be safe now. The fight drained from you, your training hooked and pulled to the forefront of your addled brain. Your body didn’t belong to you. Let them use you. That’s what you were made for; that was your purpose. 

You closed your eyes. 

“Ya got less than one goddamn second ta move away from her ‘fore I put a bolt in yer brain.”

Your eyes snapped open, your lips parting to breathe out one word.

“Daryl.”

Taglist:

@royaltysuite @thegeorgiahuntsman @livingdeadblondequeen @deansapplepie @feral4daryl @walker-bait-1973 @lazyneonrabbitt @bizquake @littlelovingideas @ririi-3 @ankhmutes @blackvelveteen1339 @sokkasimp101 @lehhos @1ivinqdeadqir1main @loganlostitall @callmeyn @lilyevanstan1325 @gutsby @eljaynosine_triphosphate @abbyreedus @wifeof-barnes @bananafire11 @hutchersonsgurl @the-milk-is-rotten @she-could-never @Kenzimae67 @nessa-mayfield @ilovedilfs4eversthings @richardsamboramylove55 @the-lonely-abyss @annhells @abi67sblog @nessieart @imgeorgeclooney @brinteylovesaliens @eduardast4rgirl @daryldixmedown @willowaftxn83-87 @atyourmomshouse01 @bultamer @mia051 @ru @memphiscity69 @flowerspetalsthorns @riya12044 @ariacraigggg @morgan556 @carley12041 @timeladyrikaofgallifrey @twdislifee @bae-live-0 @elbellmam @aleemendoza2425-blog @randomhoe @ren9sstuff @pandarooooo-blog @let-love-bleeds-red

[lovesodakid]

sworn to secrecy

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

2 3 4 5 6

summary: chris and y/n have known each other, pretty much their whole lives. y/n has always had a crush on chris. chris always viewed y/n as ‘nate’s little sister’ until one day, he realized, she wasn’t so little anymore…which nate sees..in which. he does not approve whatsoever. (“brothers best friend trope”)

warnings: slight mention of toxic household. shouldn’t be any more than that, if there is, lmk !!

____________________________________________

i groaned as i opened my eyes, fluttering them multiple times so i could adjust to the sunlight hitting my face through my window, lighting up my room and painting a beautiful orange-like color onto my walls from the early morning sunrise. i extend my arm out from under the warm comforter, to turn off my blaring alarm. i move to my side to look over at the alarm as it reads, 6:04am.

i sit up, stretching and yawning as i grumble a few breathless words as i place my feet on the cold hardwood flooring of my bedroom.

i quickly shuffle my way to my closet to grab some clothes to change into. considering it’s the middle of august in boston, it’ll most likely be warm today, so i grab a short sleeve plain white t-shirt and light washed baggy denim jeans. also, of course socks, bra, underwear, the good stuff.

today is the first day of my junior year. which means, it’s the first day of senior year for my annoying brother, nathan doe, and the triplets, whom i’ve known since i was at least 5 years old. i’ve grown up with them. i’ve seen them pick their nose, pee in the pool, and scream that girls have cooties into my face. i’ve witnessed them going on dates for the first time and their first sip of alcohol. i’ve seen it all.

nick is my best friend in the whole wide world. hes the one person who knows every single detail about me. when mine and nate’s parents used to get into fights when we were younger, nick was the first one to distract me from it. i’d bring my barbie’s to the triplets house and play with him, while nate played x-box with matt and chris. speaking of those two, im very close with matt. he and i bonded in my freshman year, when i was discovering what having anxiety meant, so was he. we kind of helped each other along the way, ive always viewed him as a second brother. chris on the other hand? not as a brother.

christopher sturniolo. the guy i’ve had the fattest crush on since the age of 10. below that age, i also thought boys had ‘cooties’. until one day, when i was playing tag with chris on the playground in elementary school.

flashback

i was chasing chris down the sidewalk that separated the playground from the grassy area at recess, when i tumbled over and landed on my hands and knees. which caused my knees and palms to be scrapped up. as i stood up, my knees were slightly bleeding, along with my palm. i guess chris heard that i stopped, he hurried over to where i was.

“are you okay?” chris softly asked.

“n-no.” i softly cried.

he gently picks my right hand up, planting a microscopic kiss on the back of it.“here, i’ll take you to a teacher. okay?” he says, slightly holding onto my elbow.

“okay.” i sniffled.

from that moment. i knew. i liked him.

end of flashback

i sigh at the memory as i finish getting dressed.

once im done, i put on a pair of air force 1’s, and make my way to my vanity. i opt on just putting on some mascara and lip gloss, deciding that i dont want to do a full face of makeup today.

i pick up my hairbrush, slowly brushing out any kinks or knots in it. once im done, i walk towards my bathroom, and brush my teeth.

“hey! are you ready? the triplets are on their way!” nate yells from down the hall.

“yeah! almost! give me 3 more minutes!” i yell with a mouth full of mint toothpaste.

once im done in the bathroom, i make my way into my bedroom, picking up my backpack off the floor, and grabbing my phone off the nightstand. almost as soon as i head toward my bedroom door to open it, i hear a faint honking coming from outside.

“are you ready? they’re here.” nate says to me as i walk down the rigid, old stairs of my house.

“yes.” i say as i walk past him, to outside.

i make my way to the minivan in my driveway, as i walk around to open the door behind the passenger seat. as nate and i get into our usual spots. matts always driving of course. chris in the passenger seat, nick in the middle backseat, me sitting behind chris, and nate sitting behind matt. it’s the ‘unspoken seat chart’ we randomly came up with.

“you guys ready for senior year!” chris yells loudly.

“yes. my last year in this hell hole!” nate exclaims.

nick and matt just say ‘yes’ in unison.

“what about you, kid? you ready for junior year?” chris turns around in his seat to ask me.

“kid” how i hate that nickname.

“uh yeah, sure.” i mumble.

“junior year really isn’t that bad. don’t stress to much over it.” nick whispers to me

after 15 minutes of chris’s loud rap songs giving me a blasting headache, we finally arrive at the school. once we walk in, we all split our ways to head to our first period classrooms. this year, i have english, so i make my way there.

once i get into the room, i head to the seat furthest in the back. as soon as i sit down, the bell rings, signaling it’s time for first period to begin.

“good morning everyone. my name is mrs. steven’s, ill be your english teacher for this year. now let’s go over…” mrs. steven’s speaks to the room full of teenagers.

i allow her words to trail off as my brain blocks her voice out. i hate school. how long until summer break again?

____________________________________________

a/n: okayy sooooo. i know this part is actually so boring and kind of short. idk if this is actually good or not so lmk if you want me to continue. in this story, the triplets and nathan are the same age and y/n is a year younger. ngl, i kinda gave up at the end lowkey, i just wanted to get this part out to see if it’ll be worth writing a whole story over, which i do have a lot a plans for actually. but it’s also 1:30 in the morning so im tired as fuck so.

[aoizaraka]

WATCHING THE BARBIE MOVIE | ft. Elise & Chuuya⪩⪨

Summary; Mori was busy for the day, and Elise desperately wanted to see the barbie movie. So he wanted to assign someone in the port mafia to go with her, unfortunately The Black Lizard, and the other executives were busy as well. So out of desperation, Mori turns to you and Chuuya to accompany Elise to the cinema.

note; i dont like mori but just ignore him here. Reader is fem.

”You called for us, boss?” Chuuya walked in the room with you following just a few meters from him. “Ah, yes. Chuuya, [Y/n]. Yes, I did. I want you both to accompany my dear Elise to the movie house to watch the barbie movie!”

.

What?

You and your ginger haired boyfriend stared at Mori then darted your eyes to the blonde girl from across the room that was currently drawing, dumbfounded. “The barbie movie?” You repeated.

“Yes. Since unfortunately i cant go since I have lots of work to do, I’ll assign you both to go with Elise instead.”

“Oh. Okay, boss.” You accepted instead of trying to wear his patience off, while chuuya was still standing near you with a bad feeling. Who knows? Maybe this’ll be fun experience.

and it was a fun experience.

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

“H—hey, Elise?? Is this really necessary?!” Chuuya yelled from inside the changing room. Before you guys went to see the barbie movie, Elise forced insisted that you both wore pink outfits like she did.

you already owned a pink dress so you got went to go get it in the penthouse you and chuuya lived in, then returned to where they were , while dressed up in pink which Elise absolutely adored and complimented you so many times.

So when she had learned that the executive didnt have any pink clothing, she forced him to stay and look for pink outfits at the men’s section while you were dressing up in the penthouse. You returned to see Elise impatiently waiting outside with her arms crossed.

-

“Come on, Chuuya. Its probably not that bad.” You reassured him, however it was a trap just to see if he looks silly or not. You and Elise were trying your best not to at least let out a snicker nor a laugh.

“goddamit.” He mustered under his breath. “Fine.” He walked out, with a pink blazer, tie and pants. You and elise bursted out laughing. “Hey! Stop that!” Chuuya yelled in embarrassment.

“i—its honestly.. not that bad!” You say between laughs. “Thats easy for you to say! Pink literally looks good on you!” “Arent you gonna change your hat?” You raised a brow in amusement. “Fuck no.” He replied. Elise just giggles. “just buy it and then wear it!”

“Ugh.” Chuuya quietly scoffed and went back in the changing room.

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

After the Barbie movie ended, you guys droped off Elise back at the Port Mafia headquarters not knowing the others were already back. So you guys definitely got some stares for the pink outfits, especially by the guards and the black lizard. Even Kouyou snickered. Chuuya was totally embarrassed and all you did was laugh your ass off.

BONUS:

“Woah. Yall changed your style? Honestly, pink kinda is your color.” Tachiara teased. “Shut the fucking hell up, Tachihara.”

“Okay, damn.. my bad, my bad..”

ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪs ʙʟᴏɢ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢs ᴛᴏ @aoizaraka . ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴀɴʏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɪɴsᴘɪʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ/ʀᴇғᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇs ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ.

ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ © 2023

[heyjudeb]

Lake Secrets - Jude Bellingham

Chapter 1: Green is my Favorite Color

Summary: Grace Alexander Arnold, an architecture student, looks forward to a quiet summer at her brother Trent's lake villa. Her plans change when Trent's best friend, Jude Bellingham, arrives with his family. As Grace and Jude spend more time together, a secret romance begins to grow. Amidst the peaceful lake and family gatherings, will their hidden feelings last, or will they fade away with the summer? Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: fluff, slowburn,

Note: This story will start of slow, emotional and angst parts will come in the next chapters, let me know if you like it

“Mom, this room is perfect,” I remarked, turning to see her unpacking her suitcase on the bed. “The view of the lake is incredible.”

She smiled, a hint of satisfaction in her eyes. “I’m glad you like it, Jude. We’ll be spending quite some time here.”

I nodded, shifting my gaze to the peaceful lake outside my bedroom window. It seemed like I had lucked out with the best room in the villa.

When Trent suggested we spend a few summer days here with our families together, I hesitated. We’d never planned trips like this before. But I could use a break, and Mom seemed to like the idea.

“Honey, they’re waiting for us outside for the barbecue. They’ve already started,” Mom interrupted my thoughts. “I better go help Diane with the setting.”

“Okay, Mom. I’ll be down in a bit. Just need to get changed.” She placed the last bag on my bed and left the room.

The fresh air and the natural surroundings were already having their effect on me. I truly needed this break. After quickly changing my clothes, I headed out of the room. The corridor stretched long and narrow, each step echoing with a soft creak. The villa must be huge, with everyone having their own room. Trent, Jobe, my parents, and Trent’s sister all shared this floor with our bedrooms. Family photos adorned the walls on both sides, with many capturing Trent as a baby. I found myself pausing at Grace’s photos too. In every one, she wore a wide smile.

Among Trent’s family, she was the one I knew least. I’d seen her a few times at the stadium, cheering for her brother, but that was about it. Perhaps it was best to keep it that way, I thought, feeling strangely drawn to her. Those green eyes in the photos didn’t help shake the impression of her beauty. But she was Trent’s sister—nothing more.

I stepped out into the villa's backyard, facing the calm lake where everyone was chatting or busy with something. Our dads were at the barbecue, grilling meat.

"There you are, mate. What took you so long?" Trent handed me a beer and gestured to the spot next to him on the couch.

"Had to change quickly," I replied, sitting down beside him.

Across from us, Grace and her mom were deeply focused on a sketchbook she held proudly. Flipping through its pages, she eagerly showed her something, and she smiled, patting her shoulder after each page. “These are amazing, sweetheart. You’re doing a great job.” “Come on, Grace. She’s our mom, of course she’s going to say good stuff. Let me be the judge of that,” Trent teased his sister, who shot him an annoyed look before handing him the sketchbook.

As Trent scrutinized the pages with all the seriousness he could muster, Grace turned her gaze towards me. A light smile crossed her face as she waved. “Hey, Jude. How are you doing?”

Gosh, she’s beautiful. She seemed a bit nervous as she looked at me. I recalled Trent mentioning that his sister was shy and preferred her comfort zone with people she knew well, rather than joining large gatherings like this one. She hardly knew any of my family members that well. “Hey, Grace.” I smiled at her, noticing her shoulders relax slightly in response. “I'm doing well. By the way, I love this place. You guys must have so many memories here. I could tell from the photos in the hallway.”

“Yeah, this house has been around since I was 5, so I've spent part of every summer here for over a decade,” she replied softly, her voice kind. Her green eyes and blonde hair added to her angelic presence.

“Hmm, I think I’ve seen this building before. Are you sure these are your original ideas, sis?” Trent teased, stroking his chin playfully and raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, they are!” She retorted quickly, snatching the sketchbook back from him. Trent burst out laughing and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “I’m kidding. These look amazing, sweetheart.” .....

Everyone seemed too full to move after the feast we devoured. Trent’s family was clearly excited to host us, ensuring every dish was served to perfection. My family looked like they were having a blast; Jobe and Trent were constantly cracking up together, seated next to each other at the table, leaving me next to Grace.

I kept telling myself it was just her stunning looks that drew me in. After all, I barely knew her. Was that a problem? If things were to develop between us, it could jeopardize my friendship with Trent. I decided to use this time to relax, enjoy myself with the Arnolds, and leave it at that.

“Let’s play a game, guys,” Trent announced, rising with his wine glass in hand. “I’ll get the cards. Who’s in?”

Jobe immediately agreed, and I nodded in his direction. Grace hesitantly said yes.

“You boys and Grace can play at the other table over there,” Diane suggested, getting up to clear the plates. “I’ll handle this and bring some fruit.” My mom joined her, refusing to let her do all the chores just because we were guests.

“Have you played Uno before, Jude?” Grace asked as we made our way to the table.

“Yeah! I always keep a pack of cards with me when I travel with the team.”

“So, you’re good at it?!” She sounded defeated already, causing me to chuckle softly. “I can never seem to win.”

“We’ll see how bad you are,” I teased, winking at her. She responded with a playful eye roll. “I’ll give you some tricks on how to win.”

As the cards were dealt, Grace kept echoing my advice on how to improve her game. It was endearing to see her across from me, legs crossed in oversized pajamas and a black t-shirt. We played a couple of rounds, and she consistently came close to winning, but Jobe and I managed to steal every victory. Trent, being the sore loser he was, demanded another game after each loss.

“Come on, Trent. They’re too good at this. Just accept defeat, bro,” Grace urged, looking frustrated at the impending loss.

“Fine, this will be the last one, I promise. I can't have this guy remind me of this moment at every chance he gets” Trent relented, pointing at me. I laughed at his outburst and shrugged my shoulders.

I signaled to Jobe to let one of them win this time. Grace seemed intensely focused, her stack of cards dwindling as she neared victory.

“And… UNO!” She exclaimed, clutching her last card to her chest and wiggling her toes with excitement. I couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. 

Knowing she had a red card, I strategically didn’t change the color when my turn came, I wanted to let her win.

“I won! I won!” Grace jumped from her seat and threw her arms around my shoulders. “Thank you for the tips, Jude.”

“Alright, alright! Let’s call it a night. I’m beat,” Trent grumbled, tossing his cards on the table and standing up. Such a sore loser.

Grace released me as she realized what she’d done. “Sorry, I got carried away.” ....

I jumped into bed, feeling tired from the day's activities. The bed was soft, and the sheets smelled of lavender. All the lights were out, the only illumination coming from the backyard porch light and the moon over the lake, casting a serene glow. The view was like something out of a painting.

My eyelids grew heavy, and I was ready to give in to sleep. Trent and I had planned a morning run by the lakeside to stay active during the vacation.

A soft, almost inaudible knock disturbed my drowsiness. Thinking it might be my mom, I quickly got up and opened the door with half-closed eyes.

There stood Grace.

"Hey," she said, already regretting her decision to knock. "I'm so sorry, I thought maybe you were still awake."

I placed a hand on her forearm to reassure her. "Hey, don't worry. I was awake anyway. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah," she smiled, her voice quiet. "The thing is, I use one of the drawers for storage in this room." She looked at me, making sure I was okay with her entering. "I need to get something from there. Is that okay?"

"Of course! Anything you need." I quickly stepped aside, motioning for her to come in.

Grace walked in quietly, moving toward the drawer. The soft moonlight highlighted her features, making her look almost ethereal. I expected her to take something essential, like clothes or skincare products. Instead, she took a vintage looking book and handled it with care.

"Got it," she whispered, turning to me with a grateful smile, holind it behind her back quickly. "Thank you, Jude."

"No problem," I replied, trying to ignore how my heart seemed to beat a little faster in her presence. "What book is that?" I really wanted to strike out a conversation with her. She seems like the type of person who would read a lot.

"Well, it's a poem book" she said softly, holding it close to her chest. "It's Bukowski's 'Love is a Dog From Hell' book".

"That's nice," I said, approaching her slowly. She looked even more beautiful under the illuminating light. Being shorter, she had to look up at me, and I could see her eyes even more clearly. "Do you enjoy reading?"

"Yeah," she replied, feeling comfortable to continue after my question. "Especially when I can't sleep. I basically memorized this book a long time ago, but I still like it."

A part of me wanted to tell her how captivating her eyes were, but another part urged me to stay silent. After a brief pause, she seemed to decide it was time to leave.

"I'll just go now," she said, walking slowly toward the door. She turned to face me before leaving. "Thank you again. Have a good night, Jude."

"Good night, Grace," I replied, watching her as she left, feeling a mix of emotions I couldn't quite place. After she left, I crashed onto the bed, determined to fall asleep this time. Our brief interaction brought me a sense of comfort and excitement, the thought of getting to know her more easing my mind. I slowly drifted off to sleep, her captivating eyes lingering in my thoughts.

Gosh, her eyes are beautiful. Suddenly, green became my favorite color. .......... Coming up next: Chapter 2: You Can Trust Me Warnings: fluff, slowburn, emotional moment, anxiety I would appreciate a comment letting me know if you like it or not. It will motivate me to continue writing. Thank you :)

[fourstarsoutofnine]

Hellooo, i noticed that requests are open! If I may, can I request courting shenanigans with Four? Man's gonna have a full on war in his head (AND a full on brawl if they split )if the Colors have different ideas on how they want to court the reader. Even better if the Reader has feelings for them but is as Dense as A Rock.

In any case, please do take your time with this! I don't want you to burn yourself out, and I don't mind waiting.

One last thing, I hope you know that your writings make me smile whenever I see that you posted.

Ok that's it lmao, take care of yourselfff

A/n:AAA thank you sm😭🫶you’re so very kind. Also I’ve been wanting to write for the colors for a while, thank you for giving me a way to do that!!

Also, I read somewhere a while back that to make a courtship official in medieval times(typically between a man and a woman, I’m not sure how it worked for other couples, it didn’t say so I’d just say it was an overarching thing), the man would give his lover a cloth torn from his garment but I didn’t want to have four slice his tunic so I settled for an extra headband ribbon <3 anyway enjoy!

How to date.

Four x reader (ft. colors)

The smith was normally a pretty easygoing guy. Calm, collected, able to figure things out relatively well on his own….when it came to regular issues.

But you, though—oh, you.

You were an entirely different story. He had no clue how to gauge the situation of his thoughts and feelings towards you.

He knew he’d fallen for you—faster than the champion when his shield broke while surfing—but the thing is… he was torn inside on how he wanted to go about asking you, and courting you.

You, of course, were clueless as a blind detective. Not a single thought of his feelings behind those eyes. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved by that. It just meant he could look at you longer without you wondering why he was doing so.

Vio hated keeping this from you. He wanted to figure out some way to tell you. It’s your right to know how he felt. It would be wrong to continue your friendship without your knowledge of this, as it was something that, Hylia forbid, could end the friendship all together if you found out and didn’t feel the same way.

Red wanted to tell you, but by the three the poor thing was paralyzed by fear. His feelings towards you were so strong he felt like he could explode. He adored you—he had the smith looking at you like you were the goddess herself. If it took being dragged here by the shadow for you to meet, it truly will have been worth it. He reveled in every aspect of you.

Even Blue was smitten. You knew how to fluster every part of the smith, and he was no exception. Your willpower and strength amazed him, as did your sharp wit and ability to shoot a comeback right back at anybody with a snarky remark, and that was something that could easily melt him to a puddle.

Green had no words, really. You just captivated him. He was the head of the group, the calmest of every color, the least easily riled. But you had him, all of them really, wrapped around your finger. If they could only agree on one thing, it would be that they’d do anything for you… so why couldn’t they come to an agreement on how to ask you out?

“A library’s the clear choice. It’s a calm, quiet environment facilitating a feeling of ease and comfort, and that’d be best.” Vio stated matter-of-factly.

“Oh please—you just wanna read after, whether we get rejected or not.” Blue rolled his eyes.

“Alright then, what’s your idea?” Vio shot back

“Picnic.” He shrugged. “Easy. It’s a calm, quiet environment facilitating a feeling of ease and comfort.” He repeated in a mocking tone. “But way more romantic. I mean—what can you even do in a library??? Recite love poems to them?”

“Yes! Exactly, Blue!”

“Hey!!!” Red shouted. “Stop arguing, this is getting us nowhere!”

“Do you have a suggestion, then?” Vio pressed

“Um-…well…” he thought. “We could…I’ll take them shopping! That way I can buy them things that accentuate their beauty…” his cheeks turned red as he smiled dopily at the ground.

“Not a bad idea, only, where will we get the money?” Blue asked. “We’re practically pisspoor traveling with the others. Hardly a rupee to our name and I wouldn’t be caught dead asking to borrow from someone to take our partner out. We’re not a scrub.”

“…yeah…” he mumbled ashamedly, a blush of embarrassment now across his cheeks. Vio patted his shoulder, assuring him it wasn’t a bad idea despite their lack of funds, and it would definitely be something they’d do in the future when they got more money(if you reciprocated their affections, that is.)

“Green? Any lifesaving ideas?” Blue crossed his arms, tired of this charade.

“….honestly, gang? I got nothin. I’m coming up blank..”

The other colors groaned. Unfortunately for them, it was loud enough for your passing form to hear. The sound caught your ear and drew you closer. When you got to the source, you saw four brightly colored iterations of your lovely smith, each one of them a representation of the color on the tunic you most consistently saw him wearing. You’d become rather close to him and the sound he’d made concerned you. This, however, wiped all other worry from you and you stood there shocked and confused on the scene playing out before you.

“Are you serious???” The small man in blue let out another groan and held his face. “My goddess were never gonna tell them at this point; this is ridiculous. They’ll be back where they belong by the time we can come up with a stupid plan.”

“Easy, Blue. Don’t be so dramatic; you’d sound like Red if you weren’t so negative.” The one in a lovely purple(or violet, more accurately) said.

“Hey..” the one in red pouted.

“No offense.”

“Offense?? You’re comparing him to ME!”

“All I said was you’re both dramatic, you’re just negative too—“

“I oughta—“

“Hey!!” The one in green finally shouted, bringing the others’ bickering to a halt. “Even if I did have a plan, would we even agree on it? You three can’t seem to even stop arguing, much less come to an agreement or come up with a solution we all like. Maybe-..maybe we just try to…since it’s causing us inner turmoil and making us bicker with ourselves…what if we just suppress it…”

“No..!” Red shouted. “I-I don’t want to..! Loving them is so nice… I don’t wanna push that down…”

“Honestly? Me neither. Besides it’ll just make us sick. You know what happens when we bottle it up.” Blue stated.

“Exactly. We get physically ill and I’m not a fan.” Vio added.

“But the thing is—what if it’s all for naught anyway? What if they don’t like us?” Green sighed.

“What if they do?” You finally piped up after not being able to hear of the scenario any longer. You loved the smith. You just never in a million years would have thought he returned your affections. But yet here he stood, the four major parts of him split by the foursword, bickering over how to take you on a date.

The colors eyes widened, faces blooming a bright red immediately. They’d been caught.

“What if I do?” You said. “And…I might have a solution to your issue… how about we go out to eat, or just for a walk or something..? It doesn’t matter what we do, I just like to spend time with you… we can to that when you’re all together again, and then someday later, you four could go on whatever individual dates you had in mind that you couldn’t agree on…” you smiled nervously.

Red was the first to break the standoff between all of you. He ran up and hugged you tight. You smiled and hugged him back. The other colors joined before they backed up and merged again. The smith stood in front of you with a sad smile. “You really—meant all that..?”

“Of course..” you smiled. “For one, I’d never lie to you, and two, why would I ever not reciprocate your feelings? Smith—Link, you are brilliant, in every single way. And all of this just adds to that. I can’t wait to get to know every single part of you.”

“Can—can I-….can you bend down here so I can kiss you?”

You laughed and nodded, bending down to let the small hero kiss you. It was careful, calculated, and so full of love that you were sure he’d gone over it in his head a thousand times on exactly how he’d do it. When you both broke away, his face was bright red and he smiled like a dope. “That—“ he started with a lovestruck laugh. “Was so much more than I ever dreamed it would be…”

“I could say the same…” you were just as lovestruck as he was. “I just-…never would’ve thought you’d ever think of me like that…”

“You kidding? You’re literally everything I’d ever dream of. Every aspect of you’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of experiencing…”

“Smithy…” you sigh, beginning to refute.

“I mean it.. and if you’ll let me, I’d love to show you how much you mean to me..”

“I-… I’d love to..” you smiled softly. His eyes lit up and he grabbed a spare piece of ribbon he uses for his headband and tied it around your wrist.

“I’m not sure how it works where you’re from, but this is how people know we’re courting.” He smiled. As did you. Courting, what a cute way to say dating… with the colors satisfied, the smith felt satisfied as well. So did you. A happy ending for all of you<3

[finnfrei]

Hey there, i love your art very much!! Especially the recent BG3 portraits. As someone who's switching to digital art and works with colour for the first time, could i ask: how do you figure out the right colours for your drawings? Do you premake a pallete, or pick one colour and then work from there or something else? Any tips would be welcome, keep drawing ❤️

Hey! Ah, thank you so much, I really appreciate it!

That’s a tough question to be honest. I find myself struggling with colors almost every time.

As I start an illustration I mostly have a rough idea what I want it to look like colorwise. Basically there’re two ways for me when it comes to coloring.

1. If it’s something more simple like a portrait or a character design, I tend to pick one base color and paint the whole object. From there I adjust each separate part such as hair, clothes, etc by moving slightly along the color wheel and changing the darkness and saturation depending on whether for example hair should be darker or lighter. For me personally in that case I prefer using analogous (picture below) colors and maybe add some complimentary (on the opposite side of the wheel) colors for highlights or backgrounds.

2. If I get too lost in the color choices, I scroll through illustrations of other artists I like and choose some that would suit the general mood best. Procreate and, I believe, CSP have a function where you can create a color pallet from a picture. I’m sure you could find some similar web or app, if your software doesn’t have the feature. Then I just use the colors from the pallet and build up on them, adjust according to what seems to work best for me.

Although if I had to give some basic tips based on personal preferences:

1. Never use black, avoid using white. I prefer using dark and saturated blue, purple, red instead of black. Light and less saturated base color instead of white.

2. In general I prefer working with more saturated colors, but got to be careful, not to overdo it, not to create crazy colorful mess. But again that’s my personal preference.

3. Avoid using too much different colors. I mostly try to stick to three, max four colors in one illustration and just use their adjusted versions (darker/lighter, more/less saturated) for shadows and highlights.

4. Contrast is more important than colors.

Guess, that’s what comes to mind first, hope it makes sense at least a little. In general I’m really chaotic when it comes to colors, so I’m probably not the best person to give advices. However, if you have any questions, I’ll be happy to try and help as much as I can.

Good luck on your creative journey!

[stellarspecter]

Better in Yellow

@stevieweek Day 4: Special Outfit + Sports + First Dress

Rating: G | Words: 1,652 | Pairing: platonic stobin

i don't know anything about pickleball pls pretend this is accurate and makes sense. okay? okay. read on and enjoy

read on AO3

Stevie, like every other goddamn millennial in America, has been getting into pickleball.

Robin doesn’t get it. What’s the point of playing tennis but smaller? Why not just play tennis? Why did the paddles have to give her so many splinters?

But Stevie loved it, and where Stevie went, Robin went. No exceptions. She loved her to death, always would, even when she was annoying or inconvenient or angry. That was what it meant to be platonic soulmates, and she knew Stevie would do the same for her in a heartbeat.

Sometimes, she just wished that devotion hadn’t dragged her into a goddamn pickleball club.

Like right now, hunched over with her hands on her knees and panting like a dog. 

“Hey, it’s alright, we almost had them! We were only a point away, I think you’re getting better!” Stevie’s relentless positivity in the face of Robin’s inherent clumsiness had been nice at first, but after a month or two of hitting the ball way off the court and tripping over herself to hit it in time, it felt more condescending than anything.

“I don’t look like this because I’m sad we lost,” Robin huffed out. “I look like this because it’s fucking hot out and I can’t breathe and I’m going to die.”

Stevie just rolled her eyes and grabbed both of their water bottles, handing the sticker-covered one to Robin and keeping her own sleek Hydro Flask. “Straighten up, hands on your head, you gotta give your lungs some room to breathe.”

“Tell you to straighten up,” Robin muttered, but followed her instructions anyway, breaths slowing predictably. Curse her jock knowledge.

“This is the last practice before the tournament,” Stevie said, idly spinning her paddle in her hand. “Like I said, you’re getting better, but I think we need to focus on our strategy. We need to —”

Robin’s groan drowned out the rest of her sentence. “Stevie, my brain doesn’t work like that,” she told her. “I just know I have to hit the ball. And I can’t even consistently do that. Please keep it simple. Please.”

Stevie’s mouth pressed into a thin line — trying not to laugh at her misery, Robin could tell. “Okay, okay. I’ll keep it simple: hit the ball instead of missing the ball.”

Robin slugged her in the shoulder as she laughed at her own joke. “Bitch!”

“Klutz!”

“Dingus!”

“Doofus!”

“Okay,” Robin says, rolling her eyes. She takes a big swig of water and starts walking off towards the side court to pack up their stuff. “So, clean up at your house, then tournament shopping?”

“Sounds good,” Stevie says, and follows her out.

It’s not even that big of a tournament, just the Hawkins Pickleball Club facing off against the Bedford Pickleballers. (It’s such a lame sport that they don’t even have proper team names. Robin curses her best friend for getting her into such a swagless situation.)

They don’t have uniforms, just team colors, which each team is supposed to dress in. The thing is, their team color is yellow, which neither of them have any athletic clothes in — Robin because she doesn’t have any athletic clothes, and Stevie because the wardrobe overhaul that came with her transition didn’t include any. In retrospect, a terrible mistake, because it’s Stevie. Of course she would get back into sports as soon as she could.

The two of them end up at an athletics store nearby with a surprisingly robust selection of women's clothing. Robin finds a yellow shirt pretty easily — neon yellow, which she doesn't quite love, but there's only so many options, and at least this way, she'll be hard to miss.

Stevie takes a bit longer perusing the racks. It's not that surprising — she's still relatively new to buying women's clothes, and though she's been easing into it with the help of Robin and Nancy, it's still strange to do it on your own.

Robin had barely glanced at the assortment of tennis skirts and dresses, completely uninterested in flouncing around the pickleball court and potentially flashing the stands. But Stevie seems entranced by them. There's not many yellow options, but she combs through each style anyway, meticulously inspecting each one.

Robin pretends to be looking at running shorts, not wanting to make Stevie feel like she has to pick something quickly. She should have the chance to take her time with this, and Robin should probably get some good athletic shorts anyway.

A few minutes pass like that before she hears Stevie's voice behind her.

“Robs?” She turns to see her best friend holding a couple hangers of dresses and skirts. “Do you think they have dressing rooms here?”

“You know,” Robin says with a smile, “I think they do.”

They locate them fairly easily, and she shoos Stevie inside with a grin. “Okay, come out when you're ready to model them for me.”

Stevie giggles from behind the changing room door. “Okay, okay. Here's the first one.”

She flings open the door, and Robin stares. She's not sure she's ever actually seen this much of her friend's thighs before. The skirt she has on is a pale yellow, which doesn't go too great with her complexion or with her t-shirt.

“It's... cute,” she settles on.

Stevie laughs. “You hate it.”

Robin grimaces, not wanting to be rude to her friend trying on femininity. “It's not really your color.”

“I like doing this, though,” Stevie says, twisting her hips to watch the skirt flare out, attached shorts peeking out from underneath. “But yeah, I mostly picked it because it's yellow. They had it in green also, I might get that just because.”

“Okay, that would be cute,” Robin decides.

“Wouldn't it?” Stevie grins. “Okay, next one.” She ducks back inside the dressing room.

The next dress she comes out in is much more of a statement. She took longer to put it on, and Robin can see why — the mess of straps in the back seem complicated as all hell. The gaps the straps leave wrap around to the side, leaving stomach cutouts that can be seen from the front. It's a much better color for her, closer to a honey yellow with white piping around the edges.

Robin whistles. “You trying to distract the other team? Cause goddamn, Stevie.”

She flips her hair over her shoulder, but it doesn't quite have the same effect when it's in a ponytail. “It's not my fault if dressing how I like is distracting for them.”

“If you wore that to a softball game every woman in attendance would melt,” Robin tells her. “Are you actually gonna get it?”

Stevie looks down at herself, pulling at the hem of the dress. “I don't know, it was kind of hard to put on. And I... I don't know, I know it's hot but I don't think I'm ready to wear something like this in public.” She looks nervous, like Robin would berate her for making the wrong choice or something, the dingus.

“Hey, that's okay,” she tells her. “I don't know that I'd be comfortable wearing that in public either.” They share a smile, Stevie's a little shaky at the edges. “We can always come back for it when you feel ready, right?”

Stevie nods. “Right.” She takes a deep breath, then releases it, shoulders slumping comfortably. “Okay. One more.”

Robin gives her a reassuring smile and waits for her to change.

“Oh wow,” she says when Stevie finally steps out. “That's kind of perfect.”

The dress is simple, just spaghetti straps, a subtle sweetheart neckline, and a short skirt. It's almost exactly the same color as Stevie's favorite sweater, and she knows they're both thinking of it as Stevie runs her hands down the smooth material.

“I think I'm gonna get it,” she confesses like a secret.

“You should,” Robin says wholeheartedly. “You'll be the prettiest girl on the court.”

She blushes and looks away. “What about you?”

Robin scoffs, ignoring the warm feeling that rises at being called pretty. “I'm the most handsome girl on the court. Obviously.”

“Of course,” Stevie agrees, then sobers and looks down at herself again. “I've never, um... I've never actually bought a dress before.”

Robin blinks. “Really? What about —”

“It's all hand-me-downs,” Stevie says, cutting off her question about her wardrobe overhaul. “And I really appreciate it, I do, I love those clothes, but I... it's different buying it for yourself.”

Robin softens. “Yeah,” she says. “For what it's worth, I think it's perfect for you. You look...” She takes in her friend's mustard-yellow dress, clinging to her curves in all the right places, revealing miles of thigh and muscled calves, brunette ponytail swaying behind her. “You look like a princess. But like, for tennis.”

“Aw, Robs...” In two steps, Stevie is engulfing her in a hug, those strong arms wrapping around her. “You're sweet.”

“It's true,” Robin says, pulling back to look at her again. “You look like if Belle played pickleball.”

That catches Stevie off guard, and she lets out a bark of laughter. “I'm never gonna unsee that, oh my god. Why does that fit so well?” She rushes over to the mirror to look herself over again, giggling at the Disney comparison.

“Your general color scheme, I guess,” Robin says. “I think that means you have to get it.”

“Definitely,” Stevie agrees, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Those Bedford bitches won't even know what hit them.”

And they don't. Hawkins leaves them in the dust with a devastating defeat, largely thanks to Stevie and her jock ways. Robin thinks the dress helped, though, even if the other team wasn’t actually that distracted by it. It helped because it gave Stevie the confidence to play her best, and that’s her favorite part about being on her team: getting to watch her best friend become who she’s always wanted to be. To Robin, no sport can compare.