#how supernova should have been
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angel---eater · 1 day ago
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im so curious what u mean by the vriskafication of jegbert? /genq
ive been watching the hs fandom from afar since the epilogues were dropped.
this is a rlly good question- i have a lot of thoughts and feelings abt june and how the fandom has taken to her her and is now portraying her in popular fanon. im so sorry this has gotten so long. im also sorry if i say smth you or anyone reading this disagrees with, but in my experience this is kind of inevitable when it comes to the topic of june egbert, trans characters who havent come out in canon yet, and trans headcanons as a whole. this shits personal to all of us and we all have different perspectives on transness, and oftentimes how we view transness in fiction is very much coloured by our own gendered experience.
it boils down to: can we please fucking let trans girls live. we are so fuckin weird about transfem folks and trans girls/women, even in fiction. sometimes especially in fiction, actually. especially on this gd website. if i have to see one more person defending june (and tgirl roxy) as a concept, and through that, defending real life transfems existences by talking about girldick or being a sweet docile sugary femme babygirlie kittycat, i will turn everyone into a fucking goldfish and flush you all one by one down my toilet. this, again, also extends to how a lot of the fandom handles trans headcanons in general, regardless of gender. all of what im about to say is from watching the homestuck fandom and fanon grow and change over 10+ years, basically since the beginning on this site specifically
some disclaimers for my trans resume i guess: i am intersex. i am plural. we as a system identify systemwide as transfemasuline or transneutral in an attempt to both honor and not speak over each other in terms of gender expression and individuality, while also trying to condense our existence for singlets to understand better, faster. we dont have time to explain all our shit all the time lol. we have transfems and transmascs in our system and everyone getting a fair, even chance at their preferred presentation is how we roll. we have lived a transfemasculine life. you cant put us in a single blue or pink corner, it wont work we are immune to that bullshit.
the vriskafication of june egbert is basically me trying to short-hand describe the way that ive seen some fans portray june post-transition by turning her into a mean girl[tm] type of person. there's also the roxyfication of june egbert, where other people make her a ditzy bimbo who can do no wrong because 'shes a girl now' and thats apparently how ppl still think girls should behave?? jegbert's canon personality traits need not apply anymore, apparently, bc that was icky boy behaviour. ghostbusters who? she likes shopping now. fanon june is sometimes eerily similar or exactly like vriska (fanon, woobified vriska, mind you, bc we still cant get a grasp on vriska as a fandom either) while also dressing very high femme and only high femme. because she has to perform someone elses femininity (spoiler: our own concept of what girls 'should look like' to be considered girls) instead of her dads masculinity now. shes either mean like vriska, or dumbed down like fanon roxy, who again has been watered down into a ditzy dumb girly girl who has done nothing wrong ever, bc shes 'just a girl', and bc people get Uncomfy when fictional tgirls do bad things. and oh boy has canon roxy done some bad things
as a counterpoint to my aesthetic based grievances, which are entirely personal- you can portray june egbert however you want. i personally invision her as very butch, but i could be totally wrong! im not even trying to make guesses here! this is my personal make-believe! she is not a real person and has never actually appeared as herself in canon. we dont know what junathan would/will be like during and post-transition. we dont know what an egg crack event will do to them. but some of the ways ive seen june portrayed feels........ off, personality wise. very off. and thats what i care about. it feels like malgendering in way too many cases, with the ditzy girliepop/catty girlbully thing. its straying too close to the tgirl brand of madonna/whore that tfems have to face in real life constantly. this is especially bad for tgirl roxy but i'll get to how fanon vs canon roxy is handled later
i use the word 'vriskafication' bc like vriska, june egbert (meaning tgirl jegbert, previously known as john in fandom and currently as john in canon, just to hammer it home that june and john are the same person, because some fans do seem to forget that john is living life believing shes a boy and a man right now and i dont think that should be erased) is still a pretty polarizing concept. fans either love her and disregard jegbert as ever having been john, or they disregard her as a concept in favour of how john is right now in canon. or theyre just straight up transmisogynistic about it bc they want their yaoi or their het ships. and BOY are some of the fandom not shy about that. which actually leads me into my next disclaimer:
im not including tboy/tmasc john headcanons in the above statement. i do not care about fighting over trans headcanons. i think that shit is just disrespectful and pointless and juvenial. you are fighting for nothing. june/john will not thank you for fighting for their trans rights bc they are not real and have no rights. june is not canon (yet) because she has not had that realization yet, and we dont know if/when she will. and genderbend aus have been a thing since the dawn of fandom anyway. more than one type of headcanon can exist at the same time. we are playing pretend. headcanons will never be proper representation. we are fans, not corporate entities or big directors or production teams churning out content for mass audiences. john has been considered a cis boy for FAR longer than june has been a popular concept, and you dont know how long someone has had or how close to someones heart their trans headcanon is, regardless of what flavour of trans headcanon it is. its rude. some of yall are so fucking mean for no reason other than 'you cant sit with us. on wednesdays we wear pink' rules. very intentional reference there
and i mean okay, roxy. big pink elephant in the room. no one respects or even acknowledges the fact that roxy in the Meat timeline is transmasc and currently only uses he/him, and when they do they're bullied fuckin relentlessly and ostracised from fandom spaces. ive seen entire hate campagns specifically for badmouthing transmasc roxy fans to try to get them to stop posting tmasc roxy stuff, or to see it as transmisogynistic violence akin to shooting a real trans girl live on tv. i have seen these comparisons be made on this site. ive seen others get actually violently transphobic about it back in 2019-2022, and even now. ive talked to fans who were mass dogpiled and harrassed off tumblr for liking meat!roxy's direction, or even just not publicly condemning him while having a neutral stance. i myself have been instablocked from servers and off of ppls blogs for thinking tmasc roxy is cool and a good plot point for his overall personal arc, especially in juxtaposition with roxy's pregnancy in candy, and how that affected her rship with her body and her gender. ive been called horrible things for even considering roxy to be anything but DMAB. that chapter in candy where we get a glimpse inside roxy's head about gender was beautifuly written with a lot of tact for trans people who can be or have been pregnant and enjoyed it, something that is INSANELY RARE. UNHEARD OF, EVEN, IN MEDIA. so this really isnt about trans rights or representation from my perspective. its just gendered bullying and a whole lotta white knighting from people who are majoratively not even fucking transfem.
the same notes of trans coding for roxy that fans deem only as transfem could be seen as coding for transmasculinity too. yes, including the XY thing. does anyone remember what foreshadowing is. and all of this even depends, hinges, on whether hussie intentionally wrote ANY of the human kids as trans initially or had it planned from the very beginning, which i really really really dont think she did!!! in 2009??? yeah fucking right!!!! the entire thing about roxy and jane pressuring dirk and jake into relationships is about cis girls feeling posessive of and entitled to queer boy's bodies and attention, because its something they cant have, and cis girls are seen as a group of people physically incapable of harm, which is misogyny that directly effects cis girls/womens victims. its a direct mirroring to cis boys doing the same to queer girls. and as much as i love all flavour of trans reads for the alpha kids in fandom, i dont think i wouldve appreciated it in canon. i wouldve hated it, actually. it waters down the message and makes everything far too messy and open to bad faith interpretation. we need more trans characters doing bad things in media, but the era the alpha kids section of HS1 was being published was NOT the time. an inarguably canon tgirl character preying on an inarguably queer tboy in 2011-2012? there would have been blood in the streets. i VASTLY prefer fanon interpretations when it comes to the alpha kids being trans. i trust fans way more, but i obviously still have reservations about that which is why im here writing all this
to further back this up- hussie has also openly discussed having her eyes opened to queer issues BY queer fans WHILE HS1 was still being updated!!! THATS why you can see a gradual influx of genuine queerness in homestuck as you read it!!! the vagueness of the trans coding we percieve in the text is why tboy john is still so popular!!! WAY more trans experiences, especially in childhood, are more similar than The Current Discourse bad actors will try to have you believe. please dont believe them, they're not right in the head and the ppl trying to convince you that someone has it The Absolute Worst are lying to you. we all have it bad, thats how oppressive systems work. its just in different patterns for indiviuduals. a middle class trans persons oppression can and often will look VASTLY different to a poor trans persons oppression bc different axis of oppression are at work. it depends on the type of person our oppressors label us as, they dgaf if anyone identifies as TME or TMA. thats a little beside the point but its absolutely contributed to how fans treat fictional trans characters, especially in the last few years
i hate hate hate the ideology in this fandom that one trans interpretation or headcanon is more valuable, or hits harder, or is more idk narratively transcendient or powerful than The Other, so The Other is deemed boring/bland/sauceless/whatever and deserves all the hate and takedowns and dismantling and nitpicking it gets. the fans of this Other Trans Headcanon deserve their hate and calls to kill themselves because theyre just Wrong About It. but thats not true. none of that is true. you just dont vibe with other flavours of fanmade trans narrative. and thats completely fine actually. its literally like preferring carrot cake to raspberry pie. it is on that level outside of transphobic biases, and i sincerely believe that a lot of fans start out on that level, but dip into transphobic biases because of the constant fucking weird moral panic about trans girls, and by extension, young trans people as a whole. which is not fine. whats also not fine is attacking fans of trans characters over said trans characters gender, canon or interpreted!!!
to tie this tf up bc i dont want this to go on for any longer than it has, im so so SO SO SO tired of fanon june and roxy being trans girls first and foremost over their actual characterization. and im even MORE tired of the word 'girl' being taken in fiction to mean dumb, sweet, (white)feminine, wouldnt hurt a fly, so so cuddlysoft, girlboss it up girlfriend, you cant sit with us, im such a cool bitch, im cooler than you dumb gross boy because im a girl, what personality i dont have one i dont need one because im a girl.
so much of fandom has forgotten that roxy is fucking mean and WILL ignore whatever doesnt fit her whims/wants and will plow through her closest friends and loved ones regardless of the situation at hand because of what she wants. she canonically admitted to harrassing dirk on the daily because she wanted him, because she was lonely and couldnt see past her own hurt to see that she was also hurting her friend. and oh my god, mom lalonde, worlds first abscent mother who swears up and down that she loves you really, rosie posie, its just that mommy's real hungover again and also very busy. that is BRILLIANT characterization for a female character, and its been forgotten behind the big pink bedazzled neon ITS A GIRL sign. and the same has been happening with june!!! and it sucks!!!! us transfems are just people we are JUST people. i dont want trans girl characters only point of characterization to be trans and girls!!!! i dont want talking heads and perfect cardboard cutouts in lipstick!!!! when june happens i want her to be exactly the same as when she was john because thats who i became enamoured with in HS1 and thats who i watched grow up in the epilogues and THATS who i want to see finally find their place in paradox space as herself. i want her personality intact, and i dont want to see her forget or turn her back on her childhood and teen and young adult years. i dont want june to be fanon vriskafied
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faithfromanewperspective · 1 month ago
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often times when I refer to ‘design school’ I’m being deliberately vague because yes I’m studying my masters in urban design for those who don’t know. but I’m usually referring to a design class I did in high school which I swear was far more content and much more meaningful than any high school subject should be and taught me things I have never gotten to be taught again about how to think like a designer, how to create, even just how to see solutions instead of problems all around me. and it’s hard to explain it if you weren’t there inside my head at the time but the passion and wonder and drive that we had even just for two afternoons a week in high school were unparalleled. I’ve tried to recreate it ever since but there’s nothing like discovery after discovery of just. things that make you tick. among people going through the same thing, watching them grow into themselves. what I would give to have another chance to discover and learn and problem solve with that group of people again just once, now that we’re adults who know real things
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mintytrifecta · 8 months ago
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Thinking about my pookie bear Lenore and how deeply she needs a hug <33
#Imagine. You're an inventor on a planet in crisis. Your sun is dying. Suns in nearby systems are dying too. Some are gone completely already#You try to preserve what you can. Record everything before it's all gone. You make new inventions test new things to try and revive your sun#You're so close to completing your first android. She'll explore the universe and save everything you can't. She'll remember it and keep it.#She'll preserve it for others and tell others you'll never be able to reach. She's the light after a star dies. She's Lenore. Illumination.#And then-and then#Your star supernovas. It's too early it's so much earlier than what it was supposed to be. You're not ready there's not enough time-#It explodes right on you. The impact burning your body but your consciousness remains as an afterimage. It seeks shelter in the first vessel#It can see. It's Lenore.#She was already in a pod. Sealed and ready for takeoff but now broken and shut down. The nova continues and sends it into space.#You wake up an android. No memories. No friends. No links. Something is wrong. Something is missing.#You look out into a vast and empty expanse and think 'it should be brighter. It shouldn't look this empty. This dead.'#So in your run down ship you try to revitalize it and head to find life. Any life. And only find stories of those long long gone#Something stirs in you. Grief? Regret? Guilt? You don't know. How could you know? You wouldn't remember ever feeling those emotions.#You continue exploring. You find people. Your part of their crew now and get integrated into an actual society.#You explain to them what you're feeling. How you think of the universe. They look at you with haunted eyes. They know it's dying. They know.#But what can they do?? What can anyone do??#Preserve. You tell them. We preserve what we can. Save what we have before it's gone. It's all we can do so we do it.#And you become obsessed. You need to find everything you can. There's no choice and no way around it. It's everything you are.#It's all you've ever been#And then you find ghosts. Afterimages of light living as people amongst you. Your closest friend is one and she's dying along with her star.#Something stirs in you. Stress or familiarity. You can't let this happen. You have to save her. Ignore how you know what it feels like.#Save her. Don't think about how you know exactly what makes it happen but don't know why. Find a solution find an answer find-#Yourself. Your past self. Who you were before you were this#You're a person your name was Alexandria. What-what are you doing here? You were... You were dead. You are dead.#You're a ghost stuffed into a metal model you created yourself. You can't be Alexandria.#Alexandria's dead and you're Lenore and the universe is dying and your friend is dying and you don't belong in this time or the past time.#What are you then?? What is the universe for you??#How can you haunt yourself and still be a ghost?#How can you say you're grieving when you are grief itself#Codename: Lenore
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clubdionysus · 2 months ago
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[BAD DECISION #61] Jinxing It
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warnings: (1) mention of toe socks, chess talk, showers, a lil bit of titty luvin, lots of kisses, oral (f&m), fingering, ass play (m), whimpery koo <3, a lil cum swapping, the starluvrs are v cute!!! lots of lil clues and hints about upcoming chapters!!
a/n: there's an authors note over on a03 so I'll you spare you my nonsense! but hi, welcome back!! sorry for the wait on this one <33 if you're only just discovering bd, hello---this is part of an on-going story and includes an established relationship, to be read in context with the rest of the story, it's not a oneshot ^^. for kofi subs, there'll be a BD 62 teaser in a few hours!
wc: 13.7K
bd total wc: 560k (ongoing)
AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI
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Life dissolves with Jeongguk. Days merge into one. 
Like a tablet in water, or stardust into the atmosphere, time melts.
So does Jeongguk, though. He sinks into the bliss with you. Crumbles. Collapses. You’d go as far to say he turns into a supernova, like stars often do when they collapse. 
He lets himself merge into a shared identity that he’s certain isn’t normal of such a fledgling relationship.
Two weeks from the auction, and days have rolled on by without much fuss. Deals have been finalised on winning bids, and Jeongguk’s had meetings with realtors, Yoongi by his side every step of the way. Everything has happened without much thought. Life has just been accepted; new plans and opportunities integrated into the trajectory you’re on. No meteors to throw you off course nor cosmic calamities to falter your future.
Your name is on the interview list for Shinwon’s position, and Jeongguk’s due to be accepting the keys for the building tomorrow. Everything is as it should be.
It’s terrifying, in a way. 
You spent so long fearing the rug being swept from beneath your feet, but with Jeongguk’s help, carpets have been laid. They’re not budging.
And nor is he as he sits across from you, legs crossed, his chessboard keeping you apart. It’s a rarity to be on his bed not wrapped up in one another—but he’s almost as serious about chess as he is about you. Almost .
“You know what to do,” he grins, adamant that his crash course in the game was easy to follow. In reality, he’d moved a few pieces, said a few words, and promised with a smile that you’d be able to beat him. 
His belief in you is sweet, but entirely misplaced. You’ve not made a single move without his gentle encouragement, most times resulting in you giving the match up on a silver platter. 
The correct terminology evades you, and so do the rules. An app sits on your phone unused, a subscription running up a small fortune from a membership never used. It was set up back in the early days of knowing Jeongguk. You swore one day you’d be able to beat him—but life got busy, and quite frankly, chess is not your chosen way to unwind.
But spending time with Jeongguk is, and so you’ll take him in any capacity you can have him.
“Which one should I move?” You pout, utterly transfixed on the chess pieces. There’s a bewildered panic to your expression, brows furrowed over your glittery eyes, hand hovering to and fro over your side of the board.
You single in on the bishop. Look his way with hopeful, wide eyes. He shakes his head.
“Diagonals only,” he reminds you of how bishops move, at which point you realise it’s blocked in by pawns. Your hand moves to one of them, and he shrugs. “I mean… you can .”
“But should I?”
“You wanna capture the king,” he says, reaching across to dictate your movements. He secures your grip on the pawn, and gently pushes it up a single square to free the bishop’s pathway. “Shift this one up, just one space. Clear the diagonal if you want to move the bishop.”
You do as he says, putting the pawn back in its original position so that you can be the one to place it. Slowly, you repeat his instructions, pushing the pawn up the board while Jeongguk nods. 
And then he grins in such a way that you just know you're about to curse him out.
He lifts his strategically placed knight. Knocks your freshly moved pawn. Claims the tile as his own.
“Rule number one,” He smirks, lip ring flipping in the corner of his pretty little mouth. “Never trust your opponent.”
“Dude, what the fuck,” you whine, looking at him with a faux sense of hurt and a very believable pout. “You’re my boyfriend . You’re supposed to help .”
“No moaning,” he dismisses your stropping, knowing he’s lost brownie points for his deception. He also knows he’ll earn your favour back soon enough, so whatever. “Now, what's your next move, baby? Go on.”
You study the board, and assess how different the opposing sides look. 
This time, he’s going easy on you. Kind of. You’ve almost exclusively been guided by him for the last half an hour, over a string of short games, all of which have ended with your very quick and immediate defeat. 
Jeongguk is too competitive for his own good. Jimin never wants to play against him, ‘cause he knows he’ll lose, too.
This is an indulgence for Jeongguk. He ought not to waste the opportunity—or worse yet, convince you never to play against him again.
He likes the idea of chess being an heirloom; the kind of skill he’ll teach his kids in the future. It’s integral to the very depths of his brain—how he works, and how his logical mind can jump and switch sometimes at the flick of a button—yet he rarely shares it with anyone else.
It’s only apt that you’d get an all-access pass.
Hovering over your now-free bishop, you narrow your eyes as you glance towards him. 
He nods. 
And so you move a pawn instead.
“I don’t trust you,” you tell him, because he told you not to. In a way, you are trusting him—just trusting that he’s a bullshitter. 
What you don’t realise is that you’ve just moved the very pawn that’s been protecting your King, and preventing Jeongguk from getting an easy win.
“B,” he sighs, looking helplessly at the move you just made. 
He couldn’t love you any more if he tried, but— fuck —he’ll never understand your brain.
“What?!”
He picks up his queen. Places it diagonally across from your exposed King. There’s nowhere for your King to go, other than in the direct line of his queen. He’s gone and fuckin’ done it again.
Check. 
Mate .
Groaning, you realise what's happening and flop down onto your back. Your brain is fried. There's no way Jeongguk actually enjoys this. 
"Not again," you whine, pretending to sob a little as you look up at Jeongguk's ceiling. It's without birds these days, but there are a few rogue strips of tape that remind you of your history within these four walls.
"B," Jeongguk laughs, clambering around the board to flop down with you. His arm rests over your tummy as his face aligns with yours. Might not have any birds above you, but the way you melt into his touch is just as deadly as it was the first time. You'll scorch a hole through his sheets with even the most innocent of encounters. His lips are a little pouty, smirk prevailing as he teases, "What did I tell you, huh? Protect your king."
"I tried!" You insist, your over-dramatic, distressed expression far too cute for him to care about playing anymore. He enjoys chess, but he enjoys you more.
"You left him wide open for me to take!"
"You could have gone easy on me!"
"I was!" He defends with a laugh, adamant that he could have taken you out in, like, two moves if he really wanted. "I swear you didn't listen to a single thing I told you—"
"I did! Listening to you is how you got that stupid pawn in the first place," you huff, putting your hand against the bottom of his throat to stop him from getting any closer. He doesn't deserve niceties in times like this.
He'd argue that the feeling of your sharp nails against his throat is incredibly nice.
He ignores your moaning. "I'll make you a deal."
"Go on."
"Strip chess."
"Pervert."
"For every move you make, I'll take an item of clothing off," he suggests with a glint in those starry eyes of his, ignoring your remark.
You assess the situation. Mentally make a checklist of his clothes. Sweats, a shirt, a (toe)sock on either foot, and underwear — that's only five moves, but then again, Jeongguk normally has your king trapped by that point.
"I think you're just trying to get me naked."
"I'm always trying to get you naked, B," he shrugs into his sheets, before tearing himself away and getting back into position on the opposite side of the board. "So are you gonna make it a challenge or not?"
"What happens if I take out one of your pieces?"
"If you do that," he hums, as if he's contemplating it. "I'll let you do that goddamn paper plane you wanna try out so bad."
Instantly, you sit up, like a puppy with a treat being teased in front of its snout. Your eyes are wide, smile incredulous. 
It's been a while since Jeongguk made those paper planes in your bedroom. Only one has ever been done, and quite frankly, you think it might have been the catalyst to your friendship's demise, because how you could ever go back to 'just friends' afterwards was beyond you. 
It's not like you didn't try to remain totally neutral about cock warming with him, but the way your heart swells whenever you do it now just goes to show how your bodies were made for one another. Like a turning of tides, or the cyclical rising and falling of the sun to make way for the moon, it's just as nature intended. He was made for you, and you him.
With a glint in your eye, you lean over to the chess board and swipe up one of his pawns at random. With a gasp, and a smile twitching at your lips, you exclaim, "Oh look! I won!"
"B," he laughs, but your expression remains entirely serious despite the light nature of it all.
"Lemme fuck your ass," You grin now, pleading ever so softly. "A deal is a deal."
"You didn't win."
"Says who?"
"Anyone who has ever played chess?"
"I've played, and I think I won. C'mon," you grin, positioning yourself on his lap. The chess piece is still in your hands as you lean down to nudge your nose up against his. "Face down, ass up for me, baby."
"You're in my way," he says.
"You could throw me across the room if you wanted to. I'm not stopping you."
"And I'm not throwing you across the room."
"Please," you pathetically beg.
"You really it want it, don't you?" He grins against your lips. "Huh?"
"Just wanna make you feel good."
"You always make me feel good," Jeongguk whispers, quietly deflecting the real reason why he hasn't let you do it yet. 
Truth be told, Jeongguk is a little scared. 
While yes, he's always been curious about pegging, he's never taken it that far before. Has never had the tools, shall we say, to explore by himself, and none of his exes or flings ever seemed too interested in it.
He wants it. Wants it with you. Just doesn't know how he'll react. Doesn't know what his body will do. Worries that things will take a turn for the worse and that you'll be so repulsed by him that you'll never want to have sex with him again, or that maybe he'll like it too much and that it'll be all he ever wants and it'd ruin just how good things are at the moment. 
His thoughts distract him as your lips press feathery kisses against the thick column of his neck. Something about you, and how delicate you can be, just makes him melt into your touch. His hands come to clutch your hair, a pretty little smile forming on his lips. 
"You don't have to do this," he quietly says, nails lightly scratching at your scalp. Your lips graze against his skin, before he gently pulls you back by the root of your hair. The sensation makes you want him even more than you already do. There's a love-drunk look of lust to your darling eyes, all glittery like they so often are as you look at him. 
Reaching to cup his jaw, you marvel at how a man who looks like him can be as tender as he is. The world would give him permission to break hearts, if he wanted it, but he doesn't. All he seems to want is to adore, and be adored in return—and how lucky you are to be on the receiving end of it.
A slight guilt settles in your stomach. You know he'd give you the world if you asked for it, but he isn't giving you this. 
"I'm only teasing," you tell him, which isn't strictly true. You do wanna do it, but your incessant begging is what you're joking about. It's not like you'll die if you can't fuck his ass (maybe). "I'll respectfully stay out of your ass unless requested otherwise."
He shakes his head. Laughs. Kisses you, 'cause he just can't help himself, then pulls you down into the sheets with him. "I give it a day until you're asking again."
Secretly, he wants you to ask again. It doesn't feel like pressure. Feels like validation; as if you want this even more than he does.
The thing is, you can't say no to a challenge. "Wanna bet?"
No. 
But he can't resist either. "You're on."
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Yoongi stands with his shoulders pressed to glass front door, keys looped on his fingers. The streets in this area are always quiet until the evening, minor hustle and bustle from delivery drivers dropping off stock to businesses down the alley disturbing the peace. 
A small hotteok stall sits lopsided, supported by the building's exterior wall, red tarpaulin covering it from the weather and any inquisitive eyes. An elderly man runs it during the weekends, but for the rest of the week, it sits derelict. It's an eyesore, to say the least. Not the kind of thing that screams 'hot new restaurant' to anyone walking by.
It's as Yoongi's contemplating how to solve this problem, figuring the stallhand probably had an agreement with the previous owners, when Jeongguk comes into his line of vision. He tweaks a brow in Jeongguk's direction, almost as if to ask: what time do you call this?
Jeongguk's right on time. It's not a minute past twelve, which is exactly the time Yoongi told him to arrive. 
Sale finalised, paperwork complete, Yoongi got given the keys this morning. It's a done deal. The building is his, and in turn, the restaurant is Jeongguk’s. 
Despite his nonchalance, when Yoongi sees Jeongguk grin, he can't help but smile too.
"Shut up," Yoongi tells him. "We're serious businessmen. Don't get giggly with me."
"I'm not!" Jeongguk laughs, hands up in defence, until Yoongi puts his own hand out for Jeongguk to shake. Naturally, Jeongguk uses Yoongi's hand to pull him in for a hug instead. Patting his back, Jeongguk is almost fighting the urge to cry. He's waited so long for this. Worked so hard. Doesn't think any of it would be possible without Yoongi, but Yoongi would disagree.
"You better make the best fuckin' samgyeopsal this city has ever seen," Yoongi threatens with all the love in the world, breaking from the hug. Passing over the keys, he nods towards the doors. "Do us the honours."
Yoongi is fatherly in the way he never takes the glory for himself. Will be the kind of dad to build a lego castle and let his kid put the flag in place at the end of his labour. 
Jeongguk doesn't mention it, but he's noticed the way Seoyeon has been the designated driver for the past few weeks; how she didn't drink at auction, and how Yoongi's been even more attentive than he usually is. 
Could be nothing at all. Could just be a change in the weather.
But it could mean everything, and Jeongguk knows better than to intrude before being welcomed in on the news. 
Pushing the key into the lock, Jeongguk is quietly enamoured with the fact the premises has a lock and key instead of the typical keypad locks that are usually in place. The metal grates against itself as he twists the lock open, and pushes the door open. 
There's a separate side entrance for access to the upper floors. 
The floors Jeongguk intends to be the restaurant already have a connecting staircase towards the back of the room, which will make it infinitely easier for staying out of Yoongi's hair whenever he's in the workshop.
In the light of day, the furniture from the previous owners now removed, it's so much easier for Jeongguk to envisage how everything will look; where the signage will hang, where the bar will go, and, most importantly, where the disco balls will hang.
"It's really happening," he exhales, as if he hadn't realised it at any earlier stage in the process.
Yoongi doesn't berate him. Instead, he takes a deep breath, too. Nods. "It's really happening."
Though he smiles, Jeongguk wishes he had a hand to hold as tightly as his lips press together. Wishes you were here. Knows you're busy with work, making up hours to account for the fact you'll have some time off at the end of the week for your interview at the Ryu.
Why you need an interview is beyond him. He thinks they're being ridiculous. Thinks that even entertaining the idea of hiring someone else is an insult. Got so wound up about it, ranting to Jimin while he was making dinner, that he burned his sauce a couple of nights ago. Is now on a talking while cooking ban. Jimin says Jeongguk can't be trusted to multitask. Jeongguk says Jimin is a little prick.
The day is lost to making plans; sketches drawn up on Jeongguk's ipad, discussions with Yoongi about how to go about getting liscences for the premises, and back and forth over what should be done with the top two floors.
The idea of Taehyung using the fourth floor as a studio is considered, but both of them know how much he adores his current place. 
"Think he'd live there, if he could," Yoongi muses picking up a slice of napjak mandu with his chopsticks, dipping it into the tteokbokki sauce. They'd ordered from the place near his current workshop, and it makes him lament the idea of leaving it behind. 
Perhaps he can keep them both. Use the smaller space as his own little sanctuary, and the third floor here as his public-facing premises. Might be a bit of a waste, but if he can afford the rent, then why not?
"Tell you what," Yoongi hums as he swallows down his food. "If you don't add something like this to the menu, I'm kicking you out."
"I'll put it on the secret menu," Jeongguk offers, knowing that it definitely won't be what he offers to punters. He makes a mean tteokbokki, but it doesn't fit the vision of what he wants for this place. "Well, what about Jimin? He could start up his own interior place, if he wants. He's got the money for it, and I know the office he's in at the moment has been stifling him. Lost out on, like, three big commissions in the last quarter because the boss went with some other prick's ideas. Jimin's wasted there."
Yoongi hums in agreement as he swallows down his food. "We could always get him to help out with the design of this place. I reckon he knows all the tricks for good energy."
Nodding, Jeongguk laughs. Picks up another rice cake and chows down on it as he adds, "Should have seen him when we moved into our current place. Man had a compass out to align a sofa with the right energy."
"Sounds about right," Yoongi grins, resting his chopsticks back down against the edge of the bowl. "Well, what about your missus, then? Would she want gallery space? Somewhere for curation?"
Jeongguk chokes on his rice cake, and it's not because of the spice. 
"She's not my missus—" he corrects, but then decides he doesn't want to "—at least, not yet. And she's got a big interview with The Ryu this week. I'm not sure opening her own gallery is on her agenda, but I can put the feelers out—and like… I don't know. Wouldn't it be a bit much? We spend so much time together, already. She'd get sick of me if I was working two floors below."
"Would you get sick of her?"
"Don't be stupid. No."
"Exactly," Yoongi says as if it's obvious—which, in all fairness, he thinks it is. "The pair of you are in a perpetual honeymoon phase."
Jeongguk shakes his head, as if he isn't beaming. "Shut up. Just got a good thing going—and hey, you're hardly one to talk. How's Seoyeon?"
"Good, yeah," Yoongi nods, but doesn't divulge any further. As much as Jeongguk is dying to ask, he holds back. "She wants you all round for dinner soon, so expect an invite in the group chat."
"For any reason?" Jeongguk baits Yoongi, cause he just can't help himself.
Unlucky for him, Yoongi is as stoic as can be. "You know Seo. She loves any excuse for a dinner party. Has started making her own pasta and I think she wants tasters."
"B makes a mean pasta," Jeongguk says, because his thoughts so often wind back to you, and he just can't help himself. "I'm sure she'll be buzzing to try Seoyeons."
A sense of pride washes over Yoongi's features. "Gah, when did you grow up, Jeongguk? Practically married, aren't you?"
Dismissive in how he shakes his head, Jeongguk can't help but let a bashful smile grow on his face. The soft lights overhead glimmer down him, putting those stars Jeongguk adores so much right back in his eyes. He'll never get rid of you. Will eternally carry the evidence of how utterly smitten he is.
Should you ever leave him, Jeongguk thinks he'd simply die of a broken heart. Wouldn't know how to walk if it weren't in the direction of you. Would stumble and fall until he inevitably wound up back at your door like a wounded puppy.
So perahps Yoongi is right. Maybe it would make sense to offer you the space—but you've got your own agenda. Your own dreams. Jeongguk can't just entrap you in his.
The thing is, once your shift is up, and you're heading to the restaurant premises to see Jeongguk, you can't help but feel like this is a dream come true for you. 
His ambition and drive have rubbed off on you; encouraged you up a career path you once thought was overgrown with thorns and rubble. Has shown you that all you need is a little bit of elbow grease and a pair of secateurs to go after what you want. 
It's dark by the time you arrive. Lights from the other establishments flood the streets, but the blinds are closed on the restaurant for a little privacy. A handwritten 'under new management' sign is taped to the front door in Jeongguk's signature penstroke. A little smiley face accents it; a show of how he feels, you presume. 
Pulling your phone from your back pocket, you dial through to him, 'cause you've no idea how to get in, nor if he's even actually there. The building is just on the way home from the art cafe, and you'd left Jeongguk's place that morning to a very smiley boyfriend instead of his usual 'don't go' pout, so you figure he's spent all day busy with exciting plans.
"Sorry, not interested," Jeongguk's voice purrs through the speaker, as if you're some kind of cold-calling saleswoman with nothing half-decent to offer him. 
"What if I told you I'm outside the restaurant and that I'm naked under my clothes?"
"Aren't we all naked under our clothes?"
"Just open the door," you grin down the phone as he comes into view through the glass doors. 
He's got the kind of look on his face that you'd expect: pouty lips with heavy-lidded eyes. Softening ever so slightly when he notices the bunch of wildflowers poking out from the tote bag you've got hooked over your shoulder, his eyes are incapable of ever hiding his true feelings. 
Mild confusion ( did someone get you flowers?) dismissed with easy understanding—they're from the stall he always buys you flowers from, so he knows you got them yourself.
It's very conflicting to adore you and to also want to fuck you into next Tuesday, but it garners you a gaze nobody else is ever lucky enough to receive from him. You cherish it. Think about it near-constantly whenever he's not by your side.
"You're a terrible saleswoman," he scolds so softly it feels like praise.
"And yet here you are, answering the door for me," you shrug with a knowing smile, sure that'd he take whatever you sold him. Would buy sand, water, air from you. Would let you swindle him. 
"And yet here I am."
Hanging up, you mouth 'open it' through the door, and he does as he's told—kind of.
Blocking the now half-open door, he childishly asks, "What's the password?"
"I love you?"
"Ew. Gross. Get a room. No."
"Fuck you.”
"Not the password either, but I'm more than willing."
"Ew. Gross," you imitate him, gagging a little for an extra immaturity. "Hmm… Byeol is the best?"
"Ddaeng."
"Jimin sucks?"
"Ddaeng… but I approve. Good guess."
"Gimme a hint."
"It's the name of the restaurant."
The confidence that comes with the restaurant being his now is nothing short of a miracle. He's so certain of everything these days, in a way he never was before—but why shouldn't he? He got the girl. Got the dream. There's nothing he can't do. Statistically, he's two for two. A winner by all counts. A gold medalist in his very own Olympics.
"You've never told me what you want to name it!" You protest with a whine, thinking he's being entirely unfair.
It's not like you haven't asked a million times over. He's just been keeping it underwraps. Was scared that speaking it into existence would jinx it. Would refuse with a coy grin, and assurance that he'd reveal it soon enough.
Truth be told, Jeongguk's gone back and forth over names. It's probably changed ten times since he's known you, but then you said something at the fundraising auction, and everything sort of clicked into place. 
A name was coined and it wouldn't stop embossing itself into Jeongguk's dreams; the branding, the signage, everything. A new vision of what he wanted spawned like lava onto a mountainside. You sparked a volcano he didn't even realise existed, and it's solidified into molten rock. 
"I'll cut you a deal," you offer, knowing that you'll never get it and he'll never ease. Shrugging your shoulder to gesture towards the bag, you begin your enticement. "I've got cold beer and hot burgers from that place you like down the road. They're all yours in you let me in—if not, I'm going home and Danbi will—"
"Say no more," Jeongguk pushes the door open and grabs your hand, pulling you into the vacant restaurant with him. The door clicks close behind you, and Jeongguk spins you around so that you're stood infront of him, facing the large room. Arms wrapping around your waist, Jeongguk rests his chin on your shoulder, gently pressing a kiss to your neck. "Welcome in."
It's a lot to take in all at once. The room stands empty, save for the camping chairs and table Yoongi and Jeongguk had coversed around earlier, Jeongguk's ipad resting on the table with a low battery warning on the dimly lit screen. There's paperwork scattered on the surface—old utilities letters that they were using to sort out the new bills—and a bag of trash tied up on the floor from their lunch.
"I don't smell burgers," Jeongguk mumbles against your neck.
"I was lying."
"You've no shame."
Turning your head, you let him raise his nose to yours, a feathery kiss greeting your lips. 
Whenever your doe-eyed boy greets you like this, you always feel a bit like snow white; as if a dozen tiny creatures will flock to you and bestow their love upon you.
It'd be fruitless, mind you, for none of them could even come close to how deeply Jeongguk adores you. He'd sit in the corner, jealous and bratty as they fawned over you. Would hate not being the object of your affection. Would strop until your focus was back on him.
"I'll order some," you promise, but Jeongguk shakes his head. 
"Won't be here much longer. We can pick some up on the way home."
"Sure?"
"Yeah, baby," he tenderly whispers, punctuating himself with a slightly firmer kiss, before pulling away from you. Walking into the middle of the room, he holds out his arms. Grins. "Welcome."
"It's a pleasure," you grin, freely stepping into the space now, looking around with awestruck eyes knowing that this is his . "Holy shit, Gguk."
"Yeah," he agrees with your sentiment. "Mad, innit?"
"Just a little."
When you think back to the Jeongguk you first met—the one who spent hours upon hours studying for his exams, all the while working at the bar of an admittedly shitty club—you can't help but feel overwhelmed with pride. He worked himself to the bone for his dreams. 
The space is large enough for Jeongguk to go wild with it. There's no end to his possibilities. He's got an arsenal of weapons in his back pocket in the form of his friends—Yoongi can fit the place out, Jimin can help with the design work, Taehyung can make a central art piece, and Namjoon can get it featured in the paper. Of course, he won't take advantage of his access to them, but knowing how willing his friends always are to help out, it's kind of like a no-brainer. He's got all the tools needed for success.
"And right here," he points up, standing in the middle of a square marked out with tape on the floor. It's large and in the centre of the room—the intended space for a central bar and banchan preparation spot, flipping the conventions of traditional barbecue places on their heads. Wants the food to quite literally be at the heart of the restaurant. "Is where the disco balls will be."
For a second, you think you miss-hear him, but the way his smiles grows when confronted with your confusion only proves you heard perfectly fine.
Sitting on one of the camping chairs Yoongi and Jeongguk had set up earlier, you've been watching him talk you through his vision for the place. It sounds incredible—just like him, but in restaurant version. 
"Is that not a health and safety hazard?" You giggle, desperate to get up and stand with him, but feeling the need to maintain distance. He's having his moment. He doesn't need a shared stage—and yet here he is, announcing that the very embodiment of you will be centre stage for the foreseeable. 
Jeongguk shrugs. "Haven't thought that far ahead. There's gonna be disco balls here whether they like it or not, though."
Realistically, if the health and safety inspectors tell him no disco balls, there'll be no disco balls—but he won't be happy about it. Will be pouty. You both know he's just being facetious, and that he'll comply with whatever is asked of him. 
"It's my restaurant, baby," he reminds you, holding out his hands, cause he wants you closer. Naturally, you do ass requested, and join him in his square. His arm slips around your waist, a kiss firmly being pressed to your forehead before your chin leans on his chest. Looking up at him, it's a wonder that you're able to have conversations that last more than a single back and forth. A miracle, even. "I can do what I want."
There's something so incredibly sexy about this cocksure arrogance. He's not the same guy you met back in the confines of Dionysus, and while you adored him back then, you adore him even more now.
"You're sexy when you talk business," you hum, as his hand dip a little further south to squeeze your ass. "Home?"
He nods, a pretty smile hanging off his lips. "Mine or yours?"
"Yours is closer," you tell him, pulling away, linking your fingers with his as you do so, dragging him with you. Hooking your bag up over your shoulder, you're reminded of the flowers. "Oh—these are for you, by the way."
Passing them over, you're not surprised by his confusion.
"For me?"
The bunch of wildflowers looked pretty big in your hands, but remarkably small in his. You have to make a considered effort to not groan. 
"Mhmm," you nod with a sweet smile. "A congratulations."
Jeongguk's head pushes back a little into his neck, shoulders broadening as his smile forms. He quickly tilts his head to the side and then back again in the way he often does whenever his brain is processing something new. 
"Never had flowers before."
"Nice, isn't it?" You grin, knowing that nothing beats fresh flowers when it comes to small pockets of expressed admiration. 
With a bashful nod, Jeongguk feels like he should feel emasculated, but can't quite work out the way he actually does feel. All he knows is that he likes it. And that he wants to get home. And that he wants you in his bed. Naked, preferably. 
His thoughts dart back and forth to the last time you were in his room. Gets him hot. Blushing. 
Thankfully, you don't seem to notice—or if you do, you don't mention it. Why would you? It's cute. 
"What time is your interview tomorrow?" Jeongguk asks as he makes sure the door is locked behind you both. 
"One in the afternoon," you reply with a certain nonchalance, as if you're unphased, which Jeongguk knows is absolute bullshit. "Hobes said he'll work my shift if I buy him a month's supply of Sprite, so I've got, like, 48 cans arriving tomorrow."
He would have done it for free, but he's a tough bargainer and you're just an easy sell when it comes to making the people you care about happy.
"His blood will turn into sprite," Jeongguk laughs, linking his hand with yours once more as you head down the road to the nearest subway entrance. "How are you feeling about it? We can practise interview questions later, if you like."
Shaking your head, you smile. "It'll just make me nervous, and at the moment, I'm pretty calm about things. Thank you, though."
"Well, if you change your mind," Jeongguk reinforces the offer, before you redirect the conversation and get him babbling about the restaurant—projected timelines, contractors, suppliers. There's so much to do, and yet it doesn't feel overwhelming in the slightest. Not yet, at least.
With a pit stop at the burger place as promised, the journey home is effortless. Intrinsic by this point. 
Shoes off by the door, Jimin is out for a company dinner, so it's just the pair of you.
"Has he spoken with you about Nabi, yet?" You ask as you grab some condiments from the kitchen, while Jeongguk fills a vase with water.
"God, no," Jeongguk laughs. "He used to tease me all the time about you, but now he can't even look me in the eyes 'cause he's worried I'll ask about it. Idiot."
"He used to tease you? About me?" You hum, a little smug at this little snippet of information. 
"You know what he's like," Jeongguk reminds you, 'cause it's not like you've ever been spared from Jimin's teasing. "Doesn't know how to not be irritating. Character flaw. Think he was born that way."
Despite his annoying tendencies, Jimin is adored by pretty much everyone he meets. Jeongguk doesn't say such things to be mean, but rather because he views him like a sibling. 
"If anyone knows how to handle him, it's Nabi," you muse, thinking back to Pohang. "He'd have driven me insane organising the Jilympics."
"Don't call it that," Jeongguk smiles at how ridiculous his best friend is. Delicately arranging the flowers, Jeongguk's sense of perfectionism comes out once more. "He's a little narcissist. He'll sense his ego being inflated from miles away, and then his head won't be able to fit through doors." Tweaking a yellow flower to move it more centrally, Jeongguk shakes his head. "And to think the first time you were in this apartment—"
"Shut up," you groan, not wanting to be reminded of it. "Everybody makes mistakes."
"Alright, Hannah Montana," Jeongguk teases you. "It's just kinda wild, isn't it? How everything has just worked itself out?"
"Don't," you say with a glint in your eye. "You'll jinx it."
Perhaps it's foolish—naive, even—but he doesn't think it's possible. Thinks that this is all set in stone. That your names have been etched on a cliffside somewhere, and that's where you'll remain forever more. 
He forgets that cliffs erode. That the weather is unpredictable, and life even more so. 
He's always been cautious. Reluctant of counting eggs.
But he’s hungry. Ravenous. The first at the dinner table, and the last to leave. Bites off more than he can chew. Chokes and splutters in the wake of it all, every single damn time.
It’s a flaw he’ll admit to having, but why can’t vices be virtues? Why can’t he be optimistic? Why shouldn’t he hope for the best? He spent so long living in a perpetual state of fear, and it never did him any good. Wasn’t until he started opening himself to the idea of things working out okay that they actually started heading in that direction.
“I’ll do no such thing,” he assures you, reaching for a pan to start with his second course. Again, he’s hungry in all aspects of the word. Hasn’t even had his burgers yet, but he’s a growing boy, or so he’d have you believe. Better to just get it cooked first, and save him the hassle of getting up again later. “You want some?”
He nods towards the empty saucepan, but doesn’t need to explain what he’s making. You know it’ll be instant bibimyeon.
“A little,” you nod, knowing that this relationship is gonna be terrible for your waistline. Opening up his fridge, you pull a can of soda from the fridge. Jeongguk doesn’t really ever buy soda, unlike you and your minor peach soda addiction, but take-out places always chuck a complimentary can of something in with your orders, so he’s got quite a stockpile now.
“You want a beer or something instead?” He asks, as he begins to prepare the instant noodles in the most embellished way he possibly can. Spices, sauces, you name it, he’s always adding something—and it’s always delicious. 
Cracking the can open, you set it down and swipe the camera of your phone up to snap a picture of him; to document him in his element. “Nah, it’s okay. Want a clear head for tomorrow.”
Jeongguk smiles, hearing the synthetic shutter of your phone clicking. “Obsessed.”
“So?” You grin, immediately swiping across to open up Instagram and preserve the moment on your story. “You love it.”
Though he doesn’t reply, he does look in your direction with a smile that would only confirm your words.
Together, you fall into a casual rhythm, you perched up on a barstool while he cooks. Conversation darts from A to B, Y to Z. There’s no topic of conversation too obscure nor taboo for you to realm into the depths of, but there’s also something comforting about how you can just natter about the weather, how he should get his hair cut, what’s on at the cinema. 
By the time he’s eaten and cleaned up the kitchen, you’re already in the shower. It’ll be an early night. You’ve both been working today, and both have important things to get done the next day. 
There’s no objection from you as he taps on the door and asks to come in. You hadn’t locked it deliberately. Jimin’s out, and even if he’d have come home, he’d have heard the shower going—or Jeongguk would have told him. There’s no real worry there.
“Been looking forward to this all day,” Jeongguk admits as he grabs his shirt by the nape of his neck, pulling it over his head in that boyish way he so often does. Neither of you really care about being naked—it’s a daily occurrence at this point—but seeing him get undressed makes your heart feel all jelly-like and void of structure. The chambers melt, and so do you. 
It’s not just attraction, but affection. Acknowledgement that he doesn’t mind being vulnerable with you. That the things humans do to renew themselves — eat, shower, sleep — are things he wants to do with you. He doesn’t want to be full if you’re hungry, sleep while you’re starved of rest, nor wash away the traces of you. Renewal without you just doesn’t make sense to him. 
“Me too,” you quietly say as he joins you. The water pitter-patters down on you both, his hair wetting before laying flat against his forehead. When his deft hands push it away, it always falls back. 
Instinctively, your arms wrap around his waist, his around your shoulders, the embrace akin to coming home. 
“We should both just quit our jobs and do this forever,” Jeongguk muses, almost sleepy in how he mumbles his words against the top of your head. 
“Someone’s gotta pay the water bill,” you smile against his bare chest.
“That’s why I live with Jimin,” Jeongguk replies, tone cheeky and warm. 
The smile on your face sweetly settles into something a little more neutral as you outwardly consider your own living situation. “Lease is up soon, yanno. Mine and Dans.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you nod, wet hair tangling over itself against his skin. He holds you just as tightly. “Haven’t started looking for new places, yet.”
“I’ve still got a few months left on mine,” Jeongguk says, pulling back to reposition the shower head. Just wants to hear you a little more clearly. “My bed is basically yours anyways.”
It doesn’t take a genius to work out what he’s insinuating—but it also doesn’t take a genius to know that it wouldn’t be the right thing for you both, yet. 
Your eyes are soft as you shake your head. “I’ve a whole apartment's worth of stuff, Gguk. I can’t just move into your room. Need my own space.”
He frowns, reaching for the shampoo. “You can. And I’ll even move my statues.”
“You mean your action figures?”
“Oh my god,” he groans, and then you’re giggling, and any negative thoughts Jeongguk could have about you saying ‘no’ dissolve into nothingness, like water running down the drain. He passes you over the shampoo once he’s gotten himself some, and adds, “People pay good money for a collection like mine.”
“You mean you spent a fuck ton of money on them?”
“We’ve all got our weaknesses,” he protests. “You’ve got so many clothes. I don’t think I’ve ever been into your room when there hasn’t been an avalanche of clothes on the chair, wardrobe and dressers bursting at seams—”
“Exactly,” You laugh. “Now imagine all of that in your room.”
He takes a second. Visualises it as he lathers up the foamy shampoo in his hair and almost hisses. “Yeah. You’re right. I take it back. Get your own place.”
Rolling your eyes, you flick a little water in his direction, as if it makes a difference. 
He grins, teeth on show, lip ring doing the thing that just makes you melt. 
“See,” you grin right back. “I’m always right.”
The rest of your shower is littered with dumb conversations and stolen kisses between shampoo rinses. In fact, it’s how the rest of the evening continues. Some dumb action film plays on the tv, and then Jeongguk finds a dumb youtube quiz, and you giggle into the early hours over some other dumb shit. Dumb, dumb, dumb and oh so totally in love. 
The apartment issue lingers in the back of Jeongguk’s mind, though, and questions dance on the tip of his tongue. He tries to brush them away, but the mint of his toothpaste isn’t enough to erase them. They taste sour, and he knows the only way to rid the sensation is to speak them into existence.
Gone midnight, the city is still alive. His curtains are open, because you’ve started to get used to the way he likes to sleep, and find it far easier to wake up early when the sun is giving you a warm welcome to the day. Funny, how things change. How willing he was to change his habits for you, and how seamlessly yours have changed to fit him. You’re better for knowing one another, or so it feels. 
The light pollution gives his bedroom a soft glow, and with every change of advertisement on the billboards across the street, the hue changes. Like his own personal mood lamp, it’s become a staple of his home. It’s blue, now, and so is he when he considers the fact that you haven’t yet reached the stage of sharing a home.
Your arm is looped over his waist, ‘cause he’d decided that the role of the little spoon would be going to him. Fingers interlocked with yours, he has no interest in ever letting go. 
“B?”
“Mhmm?”
“Is Dan definitely moving in with Tae?”
“Think so.”
Jeongguk doesn’t immediately reply, but you leave space open for him. A question like that didn’t come out of the blue. It’s something he’s been ruminating on, no doubt.
When he finally does speak, the weight of his soft, if not somewhat pouty, words crush down on your chest in a way that you can’t quite explain. Hell, in a way you don’t want to explain, because it would mean admitting that a man has such power over you (even if said man is Jeon Jeongguk).
“They’ve always been one step ahead of us,” he laments.
And then he leaves silence for you. Knows that you always have a response of some kind that will settle his woes. Feels guilty that you’re always cleaning up the messes of his loose lips, but would be a liar if he said he didn’t crave the sweet nothings you soothe him with.
“They’re on an entirely different path, baby,” you gently press a kiss into his shoulder. He’s so warm and powder-fresh from his shower that you can’t help but want to cling to him like a koala bear. Most importantly, though, you don’t want him to move away. Space to talk is fine, but physical space? God, no. “There's no use comparing.”
But Jeongguk is a glutton for punishment. Will continue making himself feel small for the sake of his perceived flaws.
“Loved you before Taehyung even knew who Danbi was,” Jeongguk pouts, ‘cause he’s in his head again, going round in circles when he really needn’t be. You know he does this, though. It doesn’t surprise nor concern you. If anything, it reassures you, because his willingness to share these thoughts just signposts how far you’ve both come. He used to stew and sour over things like this. Now, he shares his burdens “But they’re doing all these big milestones first. They were a couple, went on vacation, and now moving in together. All before us.”
“It’s not a competition,” you sweetly laugh. “Their relationship couldn’t be more different to ours. Plus I hardly consider a weekend in Jeju a big vacation—we can literally do that this weekend, if you want.”
You’re not sure why you’ve never been away together. Busan is always lovely, but it’s a short drive, and is somewhere Jeongguk still considers to be home. It’s not a holiday. Perhaps you should rectify that. It's better spoken about during the daylight hours, but always a little nicer to dream at night. Make silly, fantastical plans that you could always turn into reality, if you really wanted. 
“Gguk,” you softly continue. “As much as I love them both, we’re literally so different from them. Our relationship was never gonna be like theirs.”
“You think?”
“Mhmm,” you nod, lips brushing against the bare skin of his shoulder. “Well, I mean, he lets her peg him for starters—”
Jeongguk turns so quickly it’s a miracle he doesn’t fall out of bed. Even in the darkness of his room at night, the open curtains mean his shock is easy to make out. “Does he actually?!”
Giggling, you roll onto your back, thoroughly enjoying his reaction. Truth is, you’ve no idea. Just said it to be a dick. 
“Probably,” you say, admitting that you don’t know. You just knew it would cause a reaction. Ease the tension, somewhat. “He’s like, obsessed with her. Would let her do anything she wants.”
Sinking back down into the sheets with you, Jeongguk wraps his arm over your body now. Pulls you close. Presses a kiss to your neck, and says, “You lost the bet, y’know? Can’t even go 24 hours without thinking about fucking my ass, can you?”
It sounds like a complaint, but the way his lips seem unable to stop pressing wet kisses against your throat would prove otherwise. Your hand tangles in his hair, scratching his scalp in approval. 
“Cute that you think I haven’t been thinking about it all day,” you tease, biting back the small murmur of a moan that’s just begging to escape from his touch. 
You often have thoughts about him throughout the day, both pure and impure. It’s not like you mean to—it’s just that there’s something about Jeongguk that is impossible to forget. Like a class-A drug, you linger from high to high, using thoughts about him to sustain your comedown until you can see him again. 
He is your boyfriend, though. Would be weirder if you weren’t a little obsessed.
“Liar,” he scolds. “I picked your clothes up after our shower. Your underwear were dry.”
“You were inspecting my underwear? Freak,” you tease, because quite honestly the idea of him studying your underwear in the hopes of finding arousal is kinda hot, even if a little perverted. “And maybe it’s because you don’t get me excited.”
Rolling his eyes, Jeongguk ignores your insult. Instead, his hand creeps down the mound of your pussy, pausing before he sinks his fingers between your thighs. “So you’ll be dry right now, then?”
“I’ll be just like the Gobi,” you assure him with that tone of defiance he's grown to adore. “Try me.”
You don’t know why you’re offering yourself up like this, ‘cause you know it’s only gonna end up one way.
“You’re such a fuckin’ liar,” he smirks—and then is proven correct as his fingers slide between your slick folds with ease. A gasp escapes from your lips as he casually brushes past your clit, paying it no attention whatsoever. “And even if you weren’t, there’s like, five bigger deserts than the Gobi. Sounds like it’s a pretty easy drought to rectify—but fuckin’ hell, B. My pretty girl and her filthy mouth. Full of lies, isn’t it? You’re fuckin’ soaked.”
“No,” you purr, hips languidly rolling to intensify the sensation he’s facilitating. After all, he’s right. There’s nothing dry about the situation between your legs. “Never told a lie in my life.”
His teeth nip at your neck as his body presses up against your side, the thick ridge of his cock letting you know that you most certainly get him excited. 
“You’re so full of shit, B,” he quietly says, lips from a pretty little kiss against the edge of your jaw. “Told so many lies, haven’t you, hm? Like when you used to tell people we were just friends?”
The desperate sigh that escapes your mouth only fuels him on even more.
“You remember the first time I touched you like this, huh?” He husks against your ear. “Those pretty eyes of yours watching us in the mirror. You can see us now, can’t you?”
Nudging his head against yours, he encourages you to look in the direction of his mirror. You always sleep on the side of the bed closest to it, but you rarely pay it any attention these days. The pair of you are obscured—bed sheets and shadows hiding what he’s doing to you—but the eroticism is just as potent as it always was.
“Gguk,” you rasp, back arching when he strokes against your clit just right.
Restraint is something that you wish you had been gifted with, but alas—you are just a girl, and he is just the sexiest man you’ve ever had the pleasure of sharing a bed with. Of course you melt with every little thing he does.
“What is it, baby?” His index finger pushes into the seeping entrance of your cunt, just once, twice, to really get you moaning. “You like it when your boyfriend touches you?”
Something about Jeongguk referring to himself like that always gets you hot, but it’s partially because of the way he almost growls when he does it. You know it’s a turn-on for him. Know that his cock is throbbing. Know he loves calling himself yours.
Tugging on his arm, you encourage him to move on top of you. It’s late, and you should both be getting a good night's rest, but whatever. In half an hour, you’ll both be away with the fairies. If anything, this will help you fall asleep quicker.
“Thought you wanted an early night?” he husks against your lips, finishing his question with a kiss that lasts far longer than any words spoken. His firm lips part yours as your legs wrap around his hips as they grind up against yours.
“And I thought you said whoever speaks about fucking your ass next loses?” You smile against his lips, knowing that he definitely must have a twisted idea of what punishment is. “How is this losing?”
“We never set out terms,” he reminds you, unable to stop himself from kissing you between sentences. “But maybe it's not about losing. Maybe it’s about winning.”
“Okay?” You entertain his flirt, giggling between those kisses he just can’t seem to stop giving you. “So what are you winning?”
He pretends to give it thoughtful consideration. Squints his eyes and looks away as if contemplating one of life's great questions. Why are we here? What is the point of life? How do I want my girlfriend to make me cum tonight?
Jeongguk presses a kiss to your neck, nose nudging against your skin. He’s feline-like. Purry. Pathetic. Just how you like him.
“You haven’t sucked me off in a while,” he whispers, teeth nipping at your earlobe. Your hand laces in his hair, a soft moan humming from your lips. There’s a softness to the slow movements of your bodies. A comfort. A desperation. Unadulterated devotion. “So maybe that?”
You laugh at his shamelessness. Press a kiss to his temple, still scratching at his scalp. “I gave you a blowjob, like, two days ago, baby.”
“I know,” he whines like a wounded puppy, all docile and dejected. “It’s been so long I might die.”
“Hmm?” You hum in response, pushing on his waist ever so slightly until he gets the message to roll onto his back. He does as he's told, because he really is just a puppy dog beneath it all. Well-trained and desperate for a treat.
Following the movements of his body, you naturally ease into position on top of him. Legs straddled either side of his waist, you raise yourself up into a seated position, earning you a grunt of approval from Jeongguk. 
The way his hands immediately reach up to play with your chest is curious, considering he still plays himself off as an ass guy. Strong with his movements, he grips the softness of your tits, his hips gently pulsing up against you.
“These might help prolong my life expectancy,” he says. “Best stress balls known to man.”
He seems quite content like this. Eyes closed, a smile hangs off his lips like he’s in a serene state of bliss. You cock your brow, unable to fight a smile, too. 
“Did you just call my tits… balls?”
One of his eyes cracks open. “No?”
“You definitely did.”
“Didn’t.”
“Did—”
“Byeol,” he reprimands your diversion of the topic. “C’mon. Business, baby.”
“Is that all I am to you, huh?” You say, reaching for his wrist so that you can pull your hairband from it. He lets you do so and looks on with salacious curiosity as you begin to tie your hair up in a ponytail. “Just a transaction?”
“Mhmm,” he nods, his own hair tangling against his pillow as he does so. “A bird for a bird, remember?”
“Are we not past the point of the birds?”
“Well, yeah,” he says as if it’s totally obvious. “Thought we were gonna do a plane?”
Jeongguk’s reference back to the paper planes that he crafted in your bedroom makes your heart seize. You know what he means by that. Knows that it’s permission, in a way. That he wants what you want, even if he doesn’t outwardly say it.
“Are we?”
“Well we’re not gonna do anything if you keep up with the small talk,” he fondly teases you, pulling you back down so your chest is against his. One of his hands wraps itself in your ponytail and tugs ever so gently. A soft moan escapes your lips, much to his enjoyment. “I like your hair like this.”
In all honesty, he just likes being able to pull on it. Loves your hair no matter how it’s done. 
“You’ll like it even more in a few minutes.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you say, pressing a kiss to the corner of his jaw before you embark on your journey south. 
It’s intrinsic, how you work his body. A routine so well learned it’s not even given a second thought anymore. You know how to make him tick. The way he groans when you press pretty kisses down his collarbones and the way his hips roll when you drag the pink of your tongue over his pebbled nipples.
His hand clutches in your hair, keeping you in that position, encouraging you to pay a little extra attention to his nipples for a change. It’s not often that he wants too much focus on his chest, but he’s so turned on that even the slightest touch is making him go feral. 
“Shit,” he hisses when your teeth gently press down around his nipple before you suck it ever so gently. “You’re so fuckin’ good at that.”
He’s never cared for it before. In all honestly, he actively didn’t like it when previous partners did it. There’s something about you that subverts all his desires. You’ve changed him. Altered his understanding of his body. Opened him up to so much more than he’d ever considered before.
Still, you’ve got an agenda, and unfortunately for him, it doesn’t involve his chest. He lets you move down, one hand lazily hanging by your head, the other resting over his chest. His thumb strokes over his pebbled nipple, still wet from your tongue, the pleasure of your touch sending him into a state of ecstasy.
Your body shuffles down, and you both reposition yourselves. No longer are you straddling, but rather you’re between his legs. His thighs are dappled in kisses from you, before your palms rest flat to his inner thighs, spreading him just right.
Alternating between slow kisses and languid drags of your tongue, you teeter ever so close to his thick, solid cock, but never quite touch it. Every time you get close, he whines, cock twitching.
There’s a satisfaction to be found in the way his body responds to your touch. His desperation is painful. Visceral. All he wants is you. 
And because you can’t bear to see him in pain (whether or not because he’s so turned on he might just die), you concede. Give him what he wants. 
Hands on his thighs, you let a little spit pool on your tongue before slowly dragging the tip of your tongue up his shaft.
“Fucking hell,” he curses, writhing from the contact.
You smile, and the lightness of your breath against the wet streak of your tongue makes him shiver. 
The tip of his cock is already leaky with precum, his eagerness to be inside you so pathetically obvious. You avoid it, instead opting to repeat your previous moves. Slowly, you lick up his fat length, tongue flat as can be. You want him to feel as much of you as he can. Want him whining— begging —for your pussy.
If the precum seeping from his tip is a sign of desperation, then heaven only knows what the fuckin’ mess between your legs is. Every stroke of your tongue against him only serves to make you want him just as badly as he wants you.
Your hand reaches to wrap around his shaft, gently stroking his foreskin. Your tongue flicks against the base of his tip, right where you know he’s the most sensitive. 
It’s no surprise when his grip on your ponytail tightens. 
But it is a surprise when he lets go. 
“Hm?” You chirp, looking up, just to make sure he’s all good.
He is—he just isn’t looking at you to confirm it. Instead, his upper body twists ever so slightly as he reaches for his bedside drawer. 
You know it’s got a host of indecent artifacts—his sex toys, condoms, polaroids of you that are for his eyes only—but don’t give it much thought. Figure maybe he’s after a condom to make himself last longer, until you feel him tapping at your shoulder with the side of a small plastic bottle. 
He doesn’t say anything. 
Not immediately, at least. 
What he wants is something he can’t really bring himself to ask for. Hopes that you’ll work it out for yourself. 
As you take the bottle from him, a small chirp echoes from your throat, as if you’re asking for clarification. Again, Jeongguk hopes you’ll work it out. That he won’t have to shamelessly tell you what he desperately wants, cock twitching and leaking precum on his stomach.
The way you pause as you study the bottle, trying to read the text in the dim light of Jeongguk’s room, only adds to his apprehension—until he hears a soft smile exhaling from your lips when you realise exactly what it is: lube .
Never usually required, thanks to the fact Jeongguk makes you resemble a waterfall from just a look in your direction, you know the lube isn’t for you. It’s for him. 
And given the state of conversations around sex over the past week or so, you know what he’s asking for.
After all, he’s the one who wrote that damn airplane in the first place. Told you straight up that he liked ass play way back in the days of the sticky notes (some of which remain on his wall, yet to be conquered).
His drawer only really has his things in it, though. You’ve not got any of your toys at his place. This is a preliminary. A follow-up, almost, to the night spent in the Min’s garden, doing things that probably scared a few dozen nocturnal animals.
“Yeah?” You encourage, lips pressing to his upper thigh. His body adjusts ever so slightly, as if he’s shy. Your hand wraps around his shaft, slowly rolling his foreskin up and down his length in just the right way to get his hands gripping his sheets. 
“Don’t wanna talk about it,” he rasps through the pleasure of having you touch him. “Just want you to do it.”
“Talk about what?” You tease, ‘cause there’s no way he’ll actually enjoy what he’s asking for if he keeps being this uptight about it all. Relaxation is key.
“B,” he groans, this time out of frustration—and so you know you need to be the one to take the lead.
It just doesn’t feel right to take the lead, knowing he’s a little bit tense. You’ve always been so clear and consistent with each other when it comes to consent, and while you know what he wants, you wanna hear him say it first. 
So you leave the bottle of lube next to his thigh and clamber up his body. Legs straddling his waist, you’re pleased that his hands come to stroke your thighs without a second thought. Conversely, your hands softly hold his cheeks, bringing him in for half a dozen pretty little kisses.
“Words are important. I’m not gonna be crude about it,” you tell him, ‘cause it makes a change to the way you joke around with one another. “I just love you, and I want to make you feel good.”
Jeongguks nose nudges back up against yours, as if to plead for more kisses (of which you give him, willingly).
“I love you more,” he argues into your lips, earning a giggle from you that somehow melts all of his worries away. 
“Chess is always an option,” you remind him, but he shakes his head.
“Just… Fucking hell,” he groans as if it’s some sort of laborious task he really can’t be bothered to see through, which couldn’t be further from the truth. He’s just embarrassed. It’s all rather cute. Or at least it is until he continues. “Just finger my ass.” 
He bashfully half whimpers, half laughs, and then adds a pouty, “Please.”
A smile sinks into your lips, and the way he seems almost shy makes your tummy feel all funny. He’s disastrously cute like this. 
“I’ll make you feel so good,” you promise, lips brushing against his ear.
He nods. Knows you will. Lets his hands stroke up and down your back, bringing them around to cup your boobs. Squeezes. Smiles. Can’t resist himself when he questions, “Yeah?”
“Mhmm,” You nod, pulling back to sit upright just for his viewing pleasure. His hands are still holding your tits, gently caressing. He’ll never not love the sight of this. Of you. Of the way you respond to his touch. 
“C’mere,” he grunts, pulling you back down, ‘cause he can’t let you go just yet. Your hands grip onto his bedframe as his lips eagerly latch onto one of your nipples. One of your hands drops to tangle in his smooth hair, a pretty little moan escaping your lips.
He takes it as a sign he’s doing something right. Switches up his sucking motion to flick his tongue against your hardened bud. Get you moaning all over again, the position of your legs spread over his waist, letting him know just how pleased you are to have him like this.
And while Jeongguk might have been asking you for favours, all he can think about is returning them.
Tapping on your ass, he’s a little breathless as he lets go of his latch on your nipple, and husks, “Up, baby. On my face. You before me.”
“Hm?” you languidly hum—not because you don’t know what he means, but because it goes against what he was asking for just minutes earlier.
Still, Jeongguk doesn’t care to explain his thought process (mainly because he doesn’t have one (he just likes having you in his mouth in any and all capacities)). Instead, he just continues tapping your ass until you get the message.
“You’re so impatient,” you lightly scold him while you do as he requests, but barely have time to position yourself before his arms are hooking over your legs, pulling your pussy to his mouth. “Oh fuck.”
He wastes no time suctioning his lips around your clit. He doesn’t care to be quiet about it. Eats you like it’s his last fuckin’ supper. Laps up against you. 
It’s not just his tongue, though. It’s like he wants his whole fuckin’ face in your cunt. His nose rubs up against your clit, while his tongue greedily licks your entrance. There’s no such thing as perfect, but the way he’s proportioned is as close as it gets, you think. Your hips grind, a hand tangled in his hair, the way you both move entirely primal. 
Hands squeezing at your ass, he encourages your movements. Wants you all over his face. Loves nothing more than being coated in you. 
His tongue begins to focus now, though. He positions himself just right. Flicks against your clit at such a speed it’s hard to comprehend—and then he’s moaning. Vibrating against you. Delivering a sensation that could never be replicated.
“I’m close,” you rasp. Whine. Moan. “Don’t wanna cum. Not yet.”
And while he wants you to, Jeongguk knows why. Knows you wanna fuck him. Knows you wanna cum around his cock instead of on his face. Multiple orgasms have never been an issue, but it is late. You do need a somewhat early night. 
He nods, easing up his tongue, slowly sucking on your clit. The movements of his head as he sucks only serve to make you feel like you might cum regardless, so you shakily (and regretfully) pull away. 
When you reposition yourself, he pulls you against his lips for the messiest, most obscene kiss possible. It’s all tongue, and little else. The taste of your cunt. The sweetness of his whines. The filth of how much he loves sinning with you. 
There's nobody else he could be like this with. Only you. Only ever you.
Straddled over his hips, you grind gently, his thick cock perfectly snug between your lips. Wet and swollen, they feel like silk against him. Jeongguk knows, given the chance, that he’d be able to cum like this. Easy.
That’s not what he wants, though, so you retrace your steps. Sink back down. Don’t fuck around this time. Instead, you take him in your mouth without hesitation. Return the favour he’s just bestowed upon you.
Head bobbing up and down his fat length, your hand wraps around the base of his cock. Pulling back, you spit against him, using your hand to spread it, gaining momentum. Loose with your grip, you focus on the tip of his sensitive cock, jerking him until he’s whining. Whimpering.
And then, you let your tongue stroke against his balls. 
“Oh, fuck,” he whines, his hips pulsing beneath you.
It’s all the approval you need for your hand to get a little tighter, and for your lips to take one of his balls in your mouth. It’s a sensation Jeongguk fuckin’ loves, if done right—and of course, you know how to do it perfectly for him. 
You take his ecstasy as a chance to move things along. Know he’s feeling good. Know he wants more. 
Pulling back, you sit on your heels. Neither of you speak, but Jeongguk does slowly nod when he sees you reaching for the bottle of lube next to his body. Trepidation hangs in the air. This territory is uncharted, and it’s been a little while since you last ventured so far south—but you’ve got a roadmap. Know the way. Even if you didn’t, you like to think intuition would guide you, regardless.
Warming it a little bit in your hands, you’re slow. Cautious. Careful, knowing that he’s probably feeling a little more vulnerable than usual.
Hands slick with the gel, you wrap a palm around his shaft. Ease him into the feeling. It’s not like it’s a new sensation, but the pair of you rarely ever use lube. You’re always wet enough. He nods. Lets his eyes close as your other hand gently massages against his balls.
A little further south, you venture. He’s not a stranger to your tongue against his taint, but your fingers are less frequent. He's not as well acquainted with the sensation, but he likes it. Legs spreading a little further, Jeongguk makes himself available for you. 
Smiling at just how cute he looks, you’re a curious mix of enamoured and outrageously turned on. Just like nobody could ever make him feel the way you do, nobody could ever make you feel the way he does. 
“You’re so hot,” you tell him, gently wanking his cock as two of your fingers stroke up and down his taint. You apply a little more pressure. Replace his bashful smile with a wanting gasp.
Slick with lube, you let your middle finger go lower. Slowly, you press against his rim. Watch him closely as his brows furrow. There’s that look of desperation once more, and the assurance that yes, he wants this. Wants you. 
You count in your head. 1, 2, 3… make sure he doesn’t stop moving his hips. If anything, he’s edging himself down. Encouraging you to apply more pressure. 
And so you do. Slowly, eyes trained on his pretty, pathetic face, you push your middle finger against his tight hole, until the muscle eases.
“Fuck,” he whimpers, the penetration of a single finger overwhelmingly pleasurable for him. His eyes flicker open, landing on yours as your finger begins to curl ever so gently. Just a little. Just enough.
Chest heaving, Jeongguk looks beautiful in a way that’s hard to put into words—and when you slowly pull out, he looks ruined in a way that’s also hard to comprehend.
His lips hang slack, chest heaving as his eyes burn into you like the heat of a thousand stars. Face dewy with sweat, hair sticks to his forehead, the storminess of his gaze quickly triggers a whirlpool within your stomach. There’s a neediness to him as he swallows back a breath, lips coming together so that he can lick them, before his pout forms that pretty little o-shape once more.
Breathless as he speaks, Jeongguk rasps, “Again.”
The corner of your lips twitch into a smirk. “Yeah, babe?”
“Yeah,” he pathetically nods, fucked out but somehow still painfully desperate for more. Of course he is, though. It’s you. No one gets him like this. No one ever will. His brows furrow together, his tongue flicking against the silver hoops in the corner of his mouth, as his eyes drop to his pathetically weeping cock. He’s so hard. So keen. So needy—and what he needs right now is you. “Please, B. More.”
You tease against his entrance, applying just enough pressure to make him gasp. It’s like a reward, to hear him like this. As if you’ve done something truly remarkable.
Your other hand wraps around the base of his cock, adding to the electricity surging through him. He reaches down. Wraps his hand around yours. Encourages you. Wants more. Needs more. And so you give him more.
Finger pushing into his tight entrance, you’re slow. Painfully so, though you aren’t causing any actual pain. Jeongguk just wants you to hit that spot. 
“Yeah?” You check in.
Breathless, nodding his head even though his eyes are closed, he says, “Yeah.”
Your finger curls. Strokes. Searches. Finds.
And Jeongguk moans in a way you don’t think you’ve ever heard before. It’s a whimper, almost. A plea. Or rather, a confession, maybe.
Your hands work in tandem, your finger stroking right against the spot that makes him whine, while your other hand strokes him in tempo. He’s stimulated in a way he isn’t used to. In a way he never really thought was possible. 
There’s a vulnerability that comes with penetration. Far easier to fuck someone than it is to get fucked.
When he looks down towards you, it's like looking through a telescope; galaxies in his big brown eyes. Wide and wanting, he'll give you all the stars in his eyes, no questions asked, no fee charged.
It’s when your head dips to press wet kisses against his taint that his whines really begin to get desperate. Has always loved your mouth. Loves it when it does things it shouldn’t. 
A girl like you shouldn’t have your nose pressed to a ballsack or her tongue mere millimetres away from an asshole, but the way you focus on delivering him pleasure would suggest otherwise. You’re made for this. Made for him. 
It’s when you whine, though, obsessed with his body's response to you, that he really begins to get twitchy. His hips pulse ever so gently, encouraging the movements of both hands.
“Yeah?” you breathlessly whisper, smirking at how a man so strong is just absolute putty in your hands. “You fucking yourself with my hands, huh?”
Jeongguk is beyond the point of pride. Has no need for dignity. Just wants to feel good.
“Yeah,” he admits between desperate breaths. “Gonna make me cum so fuckin’ hard.” 
Everything is moving in the same chaotic rhythm: his chest, his beating heart, his pulsing hips. Jeongguk’s cock is twitching, the sensation of you massaging his prostate taking him closer and closer to the point of release. He isn’t gonna last, and you don't want him to. 
Your hand grips even tighter around the base of his cock, the stimulation impossible to fight against. There’s only so much he can take.
“B,” he whines. “Oh, fuck.”
“Cum for me,” you tell him, not even caring for your lost orgasm from earlier. He can make it up to you later. You keep the pace of your finger consistent, but wank him off faster. He whimpers and he writhes, but he doesn’t ease up. “C’mon, baby. Show me how good I make you feel, yeah?”
If there’s one thing that drives him wild, it’s when you call him sweet little names. 
“Please, baby,” you beg, because you know just the right buttons to press. His hands grip his bed sheets, eyes struggling to stay open. He’s seconds away from death, or so it feels. A little death, at least. His legs begin to twitch. The onslaught of what is about to happen is unmistakable. “That’s it, baby,” you coo. “Show me how good it feels.”
“B,” he tries to speak, but can’t. All he can do it succumb to the pleasure. Whine. Mewl. Moan.
And then it’s happening; the evidence of how fucking good you are for him painting his abdomen. His cock is pathetic as it spurts ropes of thick, hot cum onto his belly. White and wet, it’s never-ending. He cums and he cums; gasps and gasps. 
It’s not until he begins to twitch, chest heaving, cock spent, that you withdraw from him. Immediately, you gently begin to trail your tongue across his hard abs, cleaning up the evidence of how much he likes having you in his ass. You're keeping his secrets. Promising you'll never tell a soul.
“Shit,” he curses, all breathless and fucked out, one arm over his chest, while his other hand reaches down to stroke the side of your head. “Fuck.”
Giggling now, you clamber up to join him, and Jeongguk cares not for the fact your cum is still on your tongue. In fact, he deliberately stokes his against yours, swapping the evidence of his pleasure between you both. Moaning into your lips, he’s spent in a way he never has been before. 
“God, I love you,” he whines into your mouth. Gets needy all over again. “You know that, huh? You know how much I love you?”
With a bashful nod, you find yourself giggling. “You know I know.”
“Good,” he nods, pulling away to face the ceiling, eyes closed, trying to get a little breath back. You snuggle into him, all rather sweetly considering what you’ve just done. “‘Cause I do. And I mean it. You’re literally, like, the love of my life.”
“Who knew all it would take was a little ass play to get your saying such soppy shit,” you tease him, pressing a kiss against his chest. “Should have done this months ago.”
He laughs now, too. “Just cause I didn’t say it back then doesn’t mean I didn’t think it.”
The pair of you descend into a comfortable warmth, giggling and joking, until you get up to wash yourself up a little. Jeongguk protests. Says he needs to return the favour—but ultimately agrees to wait until the morning. 
“Need to sleep at some point, babe,” you tell him as you both meander to the bathroom. Jeongguk makes a mental note to get a place with an en-suite when he moves out. In a pair of boxers, he watches you fondly as you wash your hands in the bathroom sink, all love drunk and bleary-eyed.
You’re in one of his shirts, and it drapes over your body in a way that it would never drape over him. He likes it better on you. In fact, he likes most things in his life better with the addition of you.  Thinks life would be impossible, if he were ever to lose you. 
“I think I’d die, yanno,” he mindlessly says, watching you plait your hair to stop it from tangling in the night. “If we ever broke up or weren’t together, I’d think I’d just die.”
You laugh, because it’s absurd. Both the concept of dying of a broken heart, and the idea that you would ever break up. 
“Don’t speak it into existence, then,” you tease. “It’s a full moon, Gguk. Can’t be manifesting things like that on a night like this.”
“I’m not,” he assures you, because if anything, he’s trying to do the opposite. Not once does he think to tell you that the full moon has nothing to do with it, or some other belittling remark about believing in the stars, like you know most guys would. Why would he though? A star is the closest thing he knows to religion, and he’s looking at it right now.
“Well, good,” you hum, turning to face him, hair now secure. “Let's just agree to not break up, and that way you won’t die.”
“Sounds good,” he sleepily smiles, tugging on your hand, guiding you back to his bedroom. 
It’s a ridiculous conversation for a ridiculous concept. 
Or at least, in the warmth of lust-drunk night, it is.
In the cold light of day, stark and sterile, everything has the potential to change. 
After all, bad decisions are your forte, are they not?
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bluerosefox · 18 days ago
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You know what.
ANOTHER DPxDC idea (as if I write prompts for anything else lol ✍(◔◡◔)
And once again, I think I might have a hyperfixation rn, another deaged Dani (Ellie) and Dan (Dante)! and Dad!Danny.
And you know what, lets make it another DannyxConner idea.
Danny is on a field trip with his class (NOT in Gotham though, LOVE Gotham but lets go with a different city) in like Central City or Metropolis (If Metropolis, Danny is SUPER excited to see the space sections they have at the museum they no doubt have, because well SUPERMAN is an alien and based in their city. If in Central City Conner is visiting Bart.)
During the trip he bumps into Conner and the two just hit it off. Conner enjoys listening to Danny rant about space and the stars and finds watching Danny's eyes light up in joy kinda cute. And if he got his new hero name Supernova from listening to Danny's rants about the stars well... no one needs to know how he got it.
Danny likes how chill Conner is and how the guy stood against Dash and the other jocks when Dash decided he wanted to mess with Danny during the trip, a rare thing nowadays but sometimes Dash does try, and how he respects/likes Danny's friends.
He didn't even say anything negative or hurtful when he found out Danny has two kids back home.
In the end the two exchange numbers, flirt hard, and maybe set up a date in the future. And then more dates. Becoming boyfriends. AND meeting the family. Conner is smitten with just out of toddlerhood Ellie and toddler Dante and adores them. And he loves how the Fentons just love him the moment he stepped into their house and was introduced as Danny's boyfriend, he made sure to bring over a pie Ma should him how to make.
Things get a bit complicated when Conner, Supernova, is at a reunion of YJ members and his phone lights up with a text message from Danny.
He's smiling with a goofy/soft look when he opens the text and see's its a picture of Danny holding a pouting toddler Dante and Ellie on his lap smiling with a notable gap in her teeth at the camera. The message he got was 'Ellie wanted you to know she finally lost her first baby tooth. Dan's been grumpier, I think he misses you.'
He is pulled out of his happy thoughts and musings when he hears Bart gasp hard and drop a bowl of snacks onto the floor. Conner turns to from the future Speedster and see's him about to have a panic attack.
Bart, Impulse, is having a freak out after catching a glimpse of the text picture Conner had gotten and being nosy wanted to know what got his friend to smile so smitten. He knew of Conner's current boyfriend and the kids Conner adores but haven't had time to be introduced to them or even see a pic.
He wasn't expecting to see the very MONSTER of his NIGHTMARES that basically destroyed the world in the FUTURE as a toddler pouting at a camera and surrounded by two smiling identical looking people either. People he never saw in the future or with HIM AND-
Oh.... OH!
Was that why he turned evil? Did something happen to his family?
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takamimami · 2 months ago
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Supernova Captains | they catch you wearing someone else’s coat
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Pairing: Kidd, Law, and Luffy x crewmate!reader (use of y/n)
the supernova captain trio will literally be the death of me, gunna start posting little drabbles of them to show my appreciation for them <3
CW: No smut (captains do steal some kisses), also Law's is slightly suggestive at the end, fluffity fluffy fluff, crackposting
🔞Slightly suggestive content so minors/ageless blogs, begone.
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👒
The first thing Luffy does when he sees you strut onto the ship is laugh, pointing out how you look like you’re drowning in the coat as you walk toward him on the deck of the Sunny. 
“Y/N,” he giggles, hand reaching to his stomach as he leans forward, “You look ridiculous! Plus, Jaggy is going to kill you when he finds out you stole his coat!”
His contagious laughter has you letting out a light chuckle, and as you do you feel yourself step on the front of the coat, stumbling forward and struggling to get your hands out to brace yourself from the fall. You squeeze your eyes shut and prepare yourself for impact, but you feel a tug around your waist instead. Opening your eyes, you see Luffy’s arm extended toward you, keeping you from colliding with the wood below. He grins as your gaze meets his from across the deck, his rubber arm retracting and pulling you with it, right into his chest.
“Careful, Y/N,” he teases, placing a light kiss on the tip of your nose before realizing that your hair and clothes underneath the coat were soaking wet. “What happened?” he inquires, his face dropping a bit as he looks over you with concern.
“I’m fine,” you hush him reassuringly, though he doesn’t stop looking you over for injury. “Zoro and Killer were sparring on the pier, and I tried to get out of their way and failed,” you admitted sheepishly, choosing to leave out that it had been Killer who knocked you into the water. You didn’t want to risk tarnishing the alliance that had been formed with your crews after defeating Big Mom and Kaido, plus it had been Killer who practically forced Kid to hand over his jacket so you didn’t freeze to death from the chill of the night air.
“Those two should know better,” he chastises, the humor in his voice peaking through as he looks you over one more time. Furrowing his brow, he shrugs off his jacket and pulls Kid’s from your shoulders, quickly replacing it with his.
“There,” he says satisfied, “At least you won’t trip and fall anymore,” he says, leaning in to kiss your chilled cheek. “Have Sanji make us some soup and wait in the kitchen for me,” he commands, winking at you before turning to head towards the pier, determined to remind his allies not to mess with his crew members (especially you).
🐯
You had almost walked through the entirety of the flower capital before you found the onigiri shop your captain had raved about upon your arrival to Wano, determined to surprise him with one of his favorite meals one more time before you set off to your next destination. When you did find it, you also found some of the Straw Hat Pirates huddled around the stand, seemingly looking for the same thing you were.
You wave warmly to Nami and Robin as you approach, and order your food quickly before chatting with the crew to pass the time. It takes a while for your order to be finished, and before long the Straw Hats are saying their goodbyes, Zoro tossing Luffy over his shoulder due to him eating himself into a coma. You chuckle to yourself as you wave goodbye to your friends, and before long your name is called and your food is placed on the counter. You walk to the other side of the stand to grab the two heaping bundles when you notice a black coat on the ground, instantly recognizing it as Luffy’s. Not wanting to make it harder to carry your food, you throw the jacket over your shoulders and grab the bundles of food before heading back in the direction of the Polar Tang. 
Once you arrive, Bepo and the rest of the crew shout in excitement when you enter the submarine with the bundles of food in your hands, the aroma quickly filling the room with its delightful scent. You scan the room as the crew starts to dig in, curious as to what room your captain is off brooding in. 
Law walks into the room just as you turn to begin looking for him, his eyes falling over you briefly before lasering over to the food on the table. You can tell he’s holding back a smile as he steps closet you, eyes fixated on your shoulders, “Thank you for the food, Y/N-ya,” he says gruffly, dropping his chin down to bring his face closer to yours, “But, care to explain why you’re wearing that?”
You furrow your brow as you look down at your outfit, completely forgetting you had grabbed Luffy’s coat to return it to him. You explain what happened in town to Law and he drops his face in his hand, rubbing at his temples before raising his other tattooed hand into the air.
“Room,” his voice echoes through the ship and you flinch slightly, unsure of the reason for him activating his powers.
"Shambles-"
When you open your eyes Law has swapped Luffy’s coat for his own, the furry blue jacket smelling distinctly of him as you nestle yourself into it with a smirk on your face.
“Jealous, are we?” You tease, your grin growing wider as Law steps closer to you and wraps his arm around your waist.
“Territorial,” he growls in your ear, his scowl slowly shifting to match your smirk.
“Close enough.”
With another flick of his wrist, he whisks you away, needing to show you how just how territorial he can be.
🌷
You’re walking back to your ship after meeting with Robin and Law to discuss the Road Poneglyph they had found on Onigashima, nestling into the coat Law had kindly lent you due to the storm breaking out just before you left his ship. It was already late, and you walked up the gangplank and found a seemingly empty deck, signaling everyone had already retired for the evening. You head below deck and towards the ladies' quarters, your own exhaustion taking over as you collapse into your cot, still fully clothed as you nuzzle into the mattress and quickly drift off to sleep.
You wake the next morning fairly early, a few of the girls already up by the time you swing your legs over the side of your bed and stretch your body.
“Oooh, Y/N! Blue is so your color,” Quincy teases as she walks over to you, ruffling the coat that was still on your shoulders.  
“Shush,” you chastise her, giggling along with Hip and Hop as the rest of the ladies start shuffling from their beds. You stand and remove the jacket, feeling Quincy still eyeing you as you grab your things to head towards the shower. You bathe quickly and once you are out of the shower you head up onto the deck and into the kitchen for breakfast. 
Once inside you find Killer, Heat, and Kidd huddled over the kitchen table and shoveling food into their mouths. You greet them gently, which Heat and Killer return with a smile, but Kidd lets out a grunt before continuing to eat, his eyes not even looking in your direction. You shake it off since you’re used to your captain’s usual morning grumpiness, but when the attitude evolves into glares from across the deck and him going out of his way to avoid you, you start to get a little curious. 
“What’s your problem?” you finally ask him late into the afternoon, when you’re finally able to catch him alone in the cockpit.
He looks you up and down before scowling, turning his gaze to the maps on the table before he speaks, “Nothing is wrong with me,” he grumbles, to which you roll your eyes and walk to the other side of the table.
“You’re a bad liar, Kidd,” you probe, eyeing him intently until he meets your gaze, a hint of betrayal flashing on his face.
“I’m not a fan of my crew fraternizing with my enemies,” he glares, his amber eyes darkening as he looks at you.
You open your mouth to refute his accusation, but your words catch in your mouth as Kidd crashes his lips to you, his lips devouring yours as he grips your chin roughly. You are too flustered to respond as he pulls away from you slightly, his face still not even an inch away from yours.
“And I especially am not a fan of you in the color blue,” he growls, reconnecting your lips and biting down on your bottom lip harshly. When he pulls away again there is a deep blush on your cheeks, to which Kid smirks at proudly.
“See, Y/N, red looks so much better on you.”
i had to cut Kidd's off bc I could have kept writing for h o u r s. (just know he made you wear his coat around the ship for a MONTH after that :3) :3 lemme know what you think, and if you liked it, I would love it if you liked and reblogged to spread the love <3 ✨come say hai :3✨
Do not copy, repost or translate.
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woodland-gremlin · 5 months ago
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Summoning Your Secret Boyfriend Pt. 7
This part was brought to you by the amazing @megasweetbones . They wrote this part, I simply edited it. Go check them and their work! Show them some love!
First Previously AU Summary
“Were you the ones that summoned me, freeing from the bane that is paperwork?” the being asked.
Constantine was momentarily thrown for a loop, but the Brit was able to right himself more quickly than any of the other heroes.
"We summoned you to make a deal. I'm offering my soul-"
"Let me stop you there." The King's smile was mocking. And probably terrifying to everyone else, given his fangs. His lichtenberg lightning marks spasming in a way that could be mistaken as agitation. "I know who you are, John Constantine. Many hold claim to fragments of your soul. But, even if that was not the case, I am the one who holds claim to all souls. As all souls have , and will, pass through the Infinite. Your soul holds no weight here. Neither does your mind or body. Do not bargain with them. And do not bargain with me. Simply tell me why it is you summoned me, as I already know what I want from you."
Constantine looked like he didn't know whether to be offended or not. But it seems fear won out, as well as desperation.
"Forgive me, please, your majesty. Trigon has threatened to destroy our universe, starting with Earth. We have summoned you here to ask that Trigon be forced to return to the Infinite Realms. Or, to at least be stopped from devouring our universe."
It was as if everything paused. The billow of the wind, crackling ice, the flicker of the candles, the shifting of the lightning scars and cape of stars.
"He has threatened... what?" Quiet, almost shocked, the words passed from the Ghost King's lips.
Lips which twisted into a snarl. Fangs elongated. Flickering candles became green blazes. Wind roared back into whipping gales. The King's body distorted with his rage. Unfathomable and nightmarish.
"He dares to Challenge me?!? My Rule? My Authority? He knows of how this world has those under my protection and, yet, still believes he can touch what is MINE?"
If Red Robin and Supernova hadn't already been exposed to this Eldritch madness and the Realms, frequently, they'd probably be near catatonic. Like the other heroes. Most were on the ground or leaning against something. Aquaman looked sea sick. Flash was shockingly still for once. Even Batman couldn’t handle the madness the King oozed.
Supernova can smell that at least two people have pissed themselves. Euwh. What an awful day to have a nose. Especially with his heightened sense of smell. Phantom could probably smell it too, though was uncaring in his rage.
At least Constantine was able to speak in the face of an angry Ancient who Rules the Infinite. His experience with powerful otherworldly beings that could end him at any moment coming in play.
"Please, let us know what deal it is you wish to make in order to have Trigon stopped. He will be here very soon."
"I want you to abolish the Anti-Ecto Acts and free the souls of my citizens, who were captured and experimented on under such heinous laws." Phantom turned to look at Red Robin and Supernova, who should have pretended to be affected like the others. As it stands though, they were standing there. Unshaken and unaffected. "There are those among you who have already worked to undo the damage. But they should not be forced to work alone. I want all of you to support them and my people you have wronged. I want my people returned, safe and sound."
Phantom was finally able to calm down as he spoke. Wind slowed down and candles went back to but a flicker. He turned back to look Constantine dead in the eyes.
"Make no mistake, I would have fought for the Earth, and this universe, the moment I was made aware of Trigon. I have my own reasons for protecting this world and its people. But I expect the same in return. In that you are protecting the health, well-being, and safety of your people? I must do the same. Free my people and erase the laws that allow your kind to hunt us for sport and science. This is not a deal, as it's my job to prevent my people from destroying the Balance. No, this is a warning. My people may question why I'd save yours, given these laws. My people want war. While I deal with Trigon, you will undo the mistakes of your government. Or else, banishing Trigon would be for nothing."
With that, the King left. Ice and the haunting aura leaving with him.
Constantine looked over at the two young men who stood, casual and unmoving. He, as well as every other person in the room, was still shaking. The whole situation called for a drink, or a dozen. But he knew that he needed to get everyone in order to fulfill their end of the deal. The Bat would just knock down any liquor once he was aware and the Anti-Ecto Acts were too important to deal with while drunk. Bullocks.
To be continued?
Note: Hoped you guys enjoyed that! @megasweetbone really out did themselves. Now the question is this a good place to finish? There isn't much more I would add but some aftermath so I want you guys to tell me if I should just leave it as is or not. Once it is finished I am going to ask the others who helped with the story ( @fanfics-or-dragons and @megasweetbones ) if I can post it on Ao3! After all I want to properly credit them so knowing if they have an account so I can add them as a guest writer or credit them another way. Tell me your thoughts in the comments!
-Gremlin
Edit: I have decide to post it on Ao3. If I decide to add anymore it will be in an epilogue or another story. Thanks for your support!
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punkpandapatrixk · 5 months ago
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🧜🏻‍♀️What’s Your Signature Style? ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card
I promise you that you can be “THE” SLAYEST when you rock a style that is your own. A style—or styles—that is your own is one that reflects outwardly the core essence of your Soul Expression.
If you know yourself, and acknowledge your unique Light, there is not a trend or fad in this mortal realm that could ever shake your confidence in what you’re already doing!
Remember, trend-makers are never individuals known to follow trends to begin with! Are you a satisfied with yourself for being a trend-follower? Gosh, that's such loser NPC behaviour. I know you're so much more than that, you su-su-su-Superbeing❣️❣️
SONG: Supernova by aespa
MOVIE: 千年女優; Sennen Joyuu (Millennium Actress) (2001)
[PAC Masterlist] [Part 2] [Part 3]
[Patreon] [Paid Readings]
☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.
Pile 1 – Bitch Barbie
VIBE: Jackie (2016)
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core spiritual essence – Knight of Wands Rx
YOLO, Spiritual Gangsta! You’re a badass bitch who’s actually a lot nastier and vainer than outer appearances may give LMAO You’re such a drama queen, too. You wake up in the morning and ready to stir up some shit. You’re naughty. You’re playful. You’re creative and a bit of a prankster to the detriment of some of your closest friends. And if you have an enemy, you’re the type that’d pour gasoline on their motorbike and let them catch fire on their own!
You really like colourful stuff. Since you were a kid, you’ve always been interested in cute or weird shapes and bling knickknacks. Colours and shapes are integral to your fashion expression as a means to let your passion through. From another angle, this is also how you show people not to take you lightly. You’re attracted to weird or bold shapes and vibrant colours because they also send word to the outer world that you’re not one to mess with.
You LOVE being seen as a weirdo. It benefits you to be seen as a BITCH, too. This is a form of self-preservation AND protection. You want to weed off boring people who are only there to feed off your precious spiritual creative aenergy! You’re the school’s boss bitch who says, ‘You can’t sit with us,’ to practically everybody because you value only strong and weird, high-quality bitches who are just like you. Deep at your core, you keep to your tribe and will protect them with your Life <3
people’s first impression – XIV Temperance
You’re an enigmatic character who’s admired and feared at the same time. Because you have such a strong presence, unbeatable charisma, people can’t help but be attracted to your aenergy. And for the most part, you’re really somebody who has a pleasant smile and good manners. People’s first projection of you might be along the lines of being a good gal LMAO You seem at first glace a temperate person who adheres to social protocols. I mean, that’s only because you’re chill~
But try and get on your bad side? The psychopath takes over. You’re very serious when working towards your goals and you don’t like it when people bother you with unwarranted criticisms or unsolicited advice. You like figuring things out yourself unless you ask for other people’s opinions. When people see this side of you, then they understand you’re not all that friendly or welcoming and that they’ve been blinded by their own expectations.
From afar, people can tell you’re meant for great things in this Life. Since you’re quite unapproachable to many, they may never say this to you but they gossip amongst themselves and speculate about what such a unique person like you could achieve in this world. They shudder when thinking about all your potentials! How can such a smart badass even be real?? It feels so unfair…
fatal attraction! – Ace of Pentacles
You’re the type that should never buy fake designer items. Buying cheap-ass things that are your style is one thing, but buying fake luxury items? NAH, NO. Your Venus will cry. Check out what your Venus sign says about your values as a person and try to match your fashion style with that. For the majority of you tuning into this Pile, being bold in all the ways that suit you is the way to go. Price is not necessarily key here, it’s boldness that plays into your self-expression.
You’re the kind of person who can wear colours and accessories that usually will make other people look like clowns XD People wonder what enables you to pull off those strange colours, shapes or combinations, not knowing it’s your CONFIDENCE in yourself being able to pull them off that makes them work. It’s the RIZZ, baby~ No matter what you look like, no matter your size and skin colour, you have the power to make WHATEVER you wear on you look like something they show on the runway.
I betcha you get a lot of requests to model for your photographer friends? XD Some of you reading this have even modelled casually before. And some of you are meant to be scouted into the modelling or fashion industry in general! If not to that degree, you’re still the kind of person who could make occasional appearances on fashion magz or insta or have your face be a poster for something quite creative. You should charge good prices for your contribution to people being able to sell their shit! v$o$v
A MILLION DOLLAR STYLE~🔻💙
vanity – Silver Geographer (Francis Drake)
sassy – Priestess of Integrity
Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸
☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.
Pile 2 – Brooding Maniac
VIBE: The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (2011)
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core spiritual essence – 4 of Cups
You one spooky bitch XD But truly, your Soul is full of colours if only people could see it! It’s just that these are colours most people won’t understand or even approve of. You possess the ability to feel and process immensely complex emotions as well as thoughts. It’s more like you think in feelings even if you identify as someone very logical. Your emotions often get heavy if you don’t learn to control them. And…you’ve really taken it to quite an extreme how well you can control or suppress your emotions now.
Some of you reading this probably have strong Earth placements, especially Capricorn, but could also have some Scorpio and Aquarius influences. The way you feel your emotions is quiet and almost…jaded. I think your Soul gets easily tired by Humans for their lack of intelligence but also for their lack of appreciation for different varieties of Beauty. You think most people are narrow-minded; just thinking about it is super exhausting.
That’s why you don’t easily show your colours to everybody. People’s disapproval of the depths of your emotions could kill your spirit on a daily basis. You’d rather not deal with that, so then you chose to sport a lot of black in your outer appearance. You could also be the type that chooses solid or ‘dull’ colours like grey or white, essentially to just…not tell people anything. The only other way you actually show your emotions, in a subtle way, is through some colours that could be found in your accessories and…HAIR <3
At least some of you dream of having colourful hair if only your society or workplace would allow that XD
people’s first impression – 8 of Cups
Instantaneously, people get this impression that you’re elusive as fuck. Like, you’re not exactly unapproachable—no, no—it’s more like, even if people try to talk to you, they already think you’re the type that won’t respond too well. You seem like you don’t talk much if at all, and people get this feeling that you’re uncomfortable with being talked to. Kinda feels like, you’re ready to flee the scene the moment someone comes up to talk to you BUHAHAH Most likely because you give off this nervous/awkward energy in social situations XD
As for your fashion, you dress so uniquely, out-there-ly, alien-ly, and people simply can’t catch up. They know they won’t be able to copy you, at least not properly. You possess a strong and unique aura that shines through your fashion sensibility and you don’t even try that hard if you’re being honest. And yet, anybody who tries to emulate or copy you will 100% look like a cheap knock-off of whatever style you’re rocking.
There is something about you that screams ORIGINAL. And yet, this is mostly caused by your lack of interest in other people’s business. You have this cold, detached aura that makes you stand out in a crowd exactly because you don’t give a fuck. At first glance, people think it’s your fashion—your clothes and accessories, your hair or nails that make you look ORIGINAL. Maybe even you think that. But no, it’s your brooding AURA that says so. You’re a maniac who ain’t interested in mingling, that’s why~
fatal attraction! – Queen of Wands
You’re a divisive character who’s either despised or admired, to an extreme. There’s no in between. Seems, indeed, like some Scorpio/8th House aenergy or some harsh Plutonian aspects XD To varying extents, and depending on your mood on a given day, people’s extreme reception of you could be mentally draining. The way I see it, you yourself don’t even understand why people are damn drawn to you. You kinda wish people would leave you alone. At least the ones you don’t care about.
But…you definitely are incredibly pretty. You have a very attractive face, you know that? And then there’s your fashion sense that tells the right kind of people that you truly are a creative/artistic person who has many stories to tell because you feel very deeply. And yet, you don’t talk to people at all and that’s mystifying. Meanwhile, the haters are also attracted to your aenergy because something about your originality is a direct insult to their lack of AUTHENTICITY ho ho ho~
You give people a reason to connect and unite in their petty hatred and that’s very refreshing for those types of people to talk about LMAO Ain’t you a hero, my dear? Anyway, this may sound so random but I’m getting that you might wanna hang out at some art gallery or library? You could meet someone or see an ad/announcement for an event that could change your Life for the better! Your brooding style could get you some unique opportunities that could potentially make you very happy <3
A MILLION DOLLAR STYLE~🔻🧡
vanity – Silver Alchemist (Ramon Llull)
sassy – Priestess of Inspiration
Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸
☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.
Pile 3 – Plutonian Siren
VIBE: Flesh and the Devil (1926)
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core spiritual essence – 8 of Pentacles
Daym, you’re a total hustler babe, aren’t ya? For one, at the core of your being you know that you were born into this world with a strong purpose. When you were a kid, you probably didn’t have the words to describe this knowing but it was clear to you that you weren’t supposed to fit in or be ‘normal’, whatever ‘normal’ meant within your norm XD You’ve always been the kinda person who deviated from your mainstream society. You couldn’t help it; you just had to be an anomaly.
Truth be told, you’ve a strong Sirenian spirit (if that’s even a word). You’re like a combination of a bitch barbie and a brooding maniac. You’ve a strong dark Plutonian and chaotic Neptunian aenergy about you and this is SCARY to a lot of people. If you grew up in a toxic household, I betcha an adult in your ‘family’ despised you for just being you. Could be a mean uncle or auntie as well if you had a good relationship with your own parents ;P
Did you know that in some literature Sirens were actually not mermaids? They’re more akin to evil harpies? XXD You’re an evil harpy at your worst and a singing mermaid at your best. I tell you people shouldn’t mess witcha. The karma will be heavy on them because you essentially come from a strong lineage of powerful witches! <3
people’s first impression – 9 of Cups
Wherever you are in the world, when you walk, you’re like a dream come true. You possess a natural charm that transcends race, culture, localised standards or whatever. In every situation and all nations you are beautiful, magnetising and charming. Your sheer existence makes people daydream. I’m sure you’ve heard this a lot, ‘You smell really nice.’ ‘Y/N always smells nice.’ ‘When you’re around it always smells nice.’
You’re so fucking unreal for this mortal world. Due to your Neptunian aenergy—could also be strong/significant 12th House placements—people project on you without a care for your feelings. Or should we say, they project on you without a care for their own safety? When somebody crosses the line, you snap like a sea dragon and they’re done, forever LMAO
As much as people are intrigued by you they are afraid of you. There is this depth to you that makes people suspect that once they’re in they’re never gonna be able to crawl out of your aenergy field. You’re kinda like Tomie now that I think about it. So the ones who are able to sense this swirling darkness in you will try to steer away from your charm~ Good for them because most of the time, you don’t even like it when people are up in your ass non-stop XD
fatal attraction! – 5 of Pentacles Rx
Of all the Piles, your natural charm is definitely chaotic. It’s almost demonic! Yours is a fatal attraction for sure because you will cause insanity in the minds of whoever tries to get a taste of your aenergy. And you’re out here chillin’, completely clueless as to what’s going on with the idiots around you. Why’s everybody simping? I ain’t even do nothing.
For whatever personal reasons, most people have this fantasy about you saving them from whatever boring Life they’re living. Some really sick minds could expect—even demand—you to be their stupid little Pixie Dream Girl when in reality you’re the FURTHEST thing from that. People could get SO dangerously unreasonable when it comes to desiring you.
I’ve got to say that you’d better protect yourself good, girl. Do everything in your power to steer away from bitter and jealous aenergy, because the people under your involuntary spell might indeed endeavour to cause you harm. Beware of men who could assault you and women who would trick and tarnish your reputation. I’m reminded of this quote by Claude Debussy:
‘People don’t very much like things that are beautiful… they are so far from their nasty little minds.’
For being such an unrealistically beautiful creature with an aura of mysticism, lots of people are attracted to your magnificence because they want to make it their own or destroy it, not because they appreciate your existence. Be selective with who you allow to get to know you~ <3
A MILLION DOLLAR STYLE~🔻💚
vanity – Green Astrologer (Robert Fludd)
sassy – Priestess of Love
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grandline-fics · 3 months ago
Note
Could I request Accidentally saying I love you prompt with Kid? Love your fics 💙
DESCRIPTION: Prompt: Accidentally saying ‘I love you’
WARNINGS:  mutual pining, slight hurt/comfort
CHARACTERS: Kid
WORDS: 1,249
A/N: Thank you for requesting this prompt! I hope you like what I came up with
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST
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Kid flaunts his metal arm and scars like a badge of honour and constant symbol of his power and ability to endure and win. It shows anyone on the Grand Line and all those back towards where he started his journey how far he’d come. How strong he was and only getting stronger and fiercer, deserving of any rising bounty he’s given. He’s one of the Supernovas, the worst generation and he refuses to show weakness. However by refusing to admit his struggles bring a new challenge for the crew. They’re all well equipped to deal with Kid’s usual brusque and aggressive personality because they know when it’s just Kid being Kid or when it’s Kid in pain and hiding it. When he’s in pain? That’s when they’re out of their depth. 
If they dared to confront him or imply he’s struggling with his old wounds he’d either punch them in the face and throw them in the ocean or he’d only get even more aggressive and defensive. Patience isn’t a strong suit in most of the crew, which leaves the task of dealing with Kid to Killer and you. While you were a new addition to the crew, your role as the ship’s doctor had been godsend. When you heard the telltale roar of frustration and slamming of metal against the wall from the workshop you sighed and rose from your spot on the table in the kitchen. Lightly you tapped Killer’s shoulder. “I’ve got him.”
With careful steps you made your way to the workshop and knocked once before sliding the door open. You were able to side step Kid’s boot as it was thrown towards you. Blinking in surprise at the shoe on the floor you slowly looked towards your Captain. Your head tilted slightly and regarded Kid who was taking slow, haggard breaths. With a sigh you scooped the boot off of the ground and stepped into the workshop, closing the door behind you. “What’s the problem, Kid?”
“I’m fine.” Kid growled and his eyes narrowed slightly when a satisfied smirk twitched at your lips. 
“Didn’t ask what was wrong with you. I meant what was wrong in here to make you lash out.” You explained stepping closer and Kid tensed, knowing you’d already caught him. “Is there an issue with you that I should know about?”
“I’m fine.” Kid’s voice emphasised the repeated lie, still not ready to admit he was struggling to cope with the pain in what remained of his arm and through his shoulder. “Am I needed for something?”
“Nope.” You hummed and dropped Kid’s boot down on the floor, just out of arms reach. “Put your boot back on before you get hurt. Make sure to tie the laces.” Kid turned in his seat to glare at you, his eyes untrusting. He hated you coming to him, your methods of getting him to lower his guard. Why couldn’t it have just been Killer? Under his fierce glare you refused to shrink away, as fierce as your Captain was, your concern for him won out over any other emotion you felt. Deliberately you dropped your gaze to the still untouched shoe and returned your challenging stare to Kid. It was clear you weren’t going to leave until he did as you wished. 
Muttering under his breath, Kid stooped down and snatched the boot, pulling it on and tightly grabbing the laces to begin tying them only to jolt when your fingers lightly pressed into the offending shoulder blade. A growl of pain built in Kid’s chest and he managed to choke out the urge to yell and swear at you. “You don’t need to say anything Captain. Saying nothing means you’re not admitting to any weakness you think you have. Just nod when I’m where hurts the most.”
Kid glared down at the ground, caught so easily by you and your keen instinct. With a small sigh he slowly straightened up in his seat and nodded. He ground his teeth together and nodded each time your fingers pinpointed the areas dealing him the worst pain. When your assessment was almost over you lightly tapped his metal arm, an unspoken request for him to remove it. With a click of his teeth Kid used his ability to make his arm drop loudly to the floor. 
Your fingers lightly pressed against the stump and Kid hissed sharply, instinctively pulling away but forced himself to stay in his seat. With a shaky breath he nodded hard and you knew to start there first. Slowly you worked your fingers into the scarred and tense tissue, letting the heat of your hands and precise movements begin to alleviate the source of Kid’s pain. A low groan of relief slipped out of Kid’s mouth and a small, smug hum slipped through yours. Kid’s eye cracked open and he scowled at you. “Gloating doesn’t suit you, Doc.”
“Gloating implies I’m doing something to be proud of. However since I’m not doing something because you insist nothing’s wrong then I can’t be accused of gloating can I?”
“You’re far too smart for your own good you know that?” Kid grumbled, leaning more into your touch as his eyes slipped closed once more. You were also far too good at easing the pain and tension he’d been trying to ignore. Outside of these moments that you treated him, there was always a fun give and take between you both but still refusing to step beyond that line of Captain and crew and into a real conversation of feelings. With every spike of pain that your commanded and controlled out of his body, the more he relaxed and felt his mind calm, pulling him into an almost trancelike state. “Thanks Doc…love you.”
Kid hadn’t realised the words that slipped out until your fingers paused in their movements. For a moment Kid frowned that you’d stopped and blinked as his mind caught up with itself and then he was hit with his statement. His head whipped over to stare at you with widened almost panicked eyes. Your lips were parted and your eyes held their own guarded panic, your expression was almost disbelieving, uncertain that you’d heard him right. “I-I-I mean…”
“Relax Captain…” You broke the tension with a soft smile, trying to keep your voice light and teasing. You took a small step back and lifted your hands. “My hands are magic, too powerful for their own good. Love spell’s over.”
“Heh, yeah…you’ll have to be careful with them. Dangerous.” Kid returned your smile with his own half smirk, lifting his own hand to experimentally press against his stump, finding he could move so much better now and his mood was lifted, apart from the embarrassment gnawing at him. Swallowing hard he made his metal arm lift from the floor and rejoin against his stump. “Thanks again.”
“Anytime.” You smiled, quickly leaning in to press a small kiss against his cheek. “I mean it, anytime.” Kid watched you leave with a softened gaze and quickly turned in his seat to return to his worktable. With every passing day you were on this ship, you were getting faster at making him lower his defences and your gaze was getting sharper at seeing that which he hid so well. With his slip up today, it was only a matter of time before you got a full confession of his feelings out of him. Just not yet though, but soon.
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roosterforme · 11 months ago
Text
Brighter Than a Supernova | Bob Floyd x Phoenix's Little Sister
Summary: Bob planned to simply stop by Phoenix's Hanukkah party for a few minutes before heading back home. He'd hang out with the guys for a bit, even though he never quite felt like he fit in with them, and he'd meet the little sister Phoenix often referred to as annoying. But he had no idea how bright and magical one night could be compared to every other night that had come before.
Warnings: Fluff, swearing, feeling insecure, loss of virginity, smut, drinking
Length: 9000 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Phoenix's Little Sister (OC)
This was written for the Winter RomCom Challenge hosted by @bellaireland1981! Check my masterlist for more. Beautiful banner made by @ryebecca
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"Bob, you're coming over tomorrow night, right?"
When he turned to look at his friend, Bob couldn't help the feeling of apprehension that washed over him. "I think so."
Natasha sighed and reached for his hand and gave him a little squeeze. He hadn't been at Top Gun as long as everyone else, and he felt like he didn't really fit in with them. Even now, the other guys were all hooting and playing keep away with Reuben's phone while Bob stood off to the side on the tarmac. 
"There's nothing to be nervous about. It's just a Hanukkah party," she whispered with a smile. She always seemed to be able to tell when he got lost in his own thoughts, and he would be forever grateful that she was the pilot he got to fly with. 
He shook his head and looked over at their Super Hornet. "I've never been to one before," he muttered. "And I'll probably just end up sitting quietly all night."
Now Natasha was squeezing both of his hands. "But we already drew names for our gift exchange. And you won't be the only one newer to the group. My obnoxious little sister, Nova, is coming in from New York, remember? She's graduating from college in the spring? She hasn't met any of the guys yet."
"But-"
"Bob, I really want you to come," she said firmly, looking up at him with her dark brown eyes. He trusted her in the air, he might as well trust her on the ground, too. 
"Okay. I'll be there."
But when Bob parked his truck in front of Phoenix's tiny house on Saturday evening, his hands were shaking slightly as he held the wrapped gift. He absolutely hated that he got this way around the guys. They hadn't done anything to make him feel this way, really. He just generally didn't fit in anywhere, something he was very aware of at age twenty eight. But he would do this for Natasha. 
He climbed out of his truck with the gift and a bottle of wine and walked up to the front door. Should he knock? Or just walk inside? It sounded noisy even out here, so after he tapped on the door a few times and nobody opened it, he just let himself in.
"Bob's here!" Jake called out from the couch, waving him over to where he was drinking a beer while Javy tried to spin two dreidels at the same time.  
"Bob!" Natasha practically shouted as she ran his way. He had to juggle the bottle of wine so he didn't drop it. "Can you help me make latkes? Nova and I have been peeling potatoes for what feels like hours, and now we're heating up the oil."
"I don't know how to make latkes," he told her, but his eyes caught on the woman standing in the kitchen laughing at Bradley. He could only see her profile, but she had long, dark brown hair just like Natasha. Only she was a little taller and a bit curvier, and when she turned to look over her shoulder, he wanted to run and hide. 
"It's easy, Bob. It's just a potato pancake. Nothing scary," Natasha whispered, trying to sound reassuring. "Come meet Nova, and you can help us cook."
He swallowed hard, realizing that the brunette goddess holding a potato peeler in one while she smiled directly at him was Natasha's little sister. The one she always referred to as obnoxious and annoying. This was... decidedly not what he had imagined. 
Bob didn't know where to look. Every part of her was so pretty. She was wearing black leggings and a cropped long sleeve shirt that was purple and said NYU on the front. He could see some of the soft looking skin just above her leggings, and his eyes dropped to the floor in embarrassment. She was barefoot with neon orange painted toenails that for some reason made Bob a little short of breath.
"Bob, this is my sister Nova," Nat told him, rubbing his back gently as his gaze wandered back up along her curves. His eyes landed on her face as Natasha said, "Nova, this is Bob. Please don't annoy him."
"Hi," she said with a little smirk on her face. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and reached her hand out to him. "I've heard a lot about you, Bob."
He was terrified that he would stutter or trip over his words, but he just said something stupid instead. "You don't look annoying."
She laughed as she shook his hand. "Oh, I can assure you, I am." Her eyes were the same color as her sister's, but they were looking at him playfully as she nibbled on her lip. It was easy to tell Nova and Natasha were sisters, but there were some differences, too. Bob had the fleeting thought that he wouldn't mind just looking at her all night until he identified them all. 
"Feel free to ignore her," Nat told him as she went to stand in front of the stove. "I usually do."
"I don't see how that would be possible," Bob murmured, and Nova laughed again before he realized what he'd said. He could feel his cheeks flush as he tried to look at anything besides her, but as soon as he did, Bradley dove for her attention. 
"So tell me all about New York CIty," he said as if he'd never heard of it before. This was fine though. Better even. Nova and Bradley could just flirt all night, and Bob could help cook and then probably leave soon. That way everyone would win. 
After a few minutes, he desperately wanted to ask Natasha if they could cook any faster so he could open his impersonal gift from one of the guys and get going. But he found that making latkes was actually pretty enjoyable. 
"That's too much egg," she told him, laughing at his messy hands as his glasses slid down his nose. "You need more flour." But her hands were a mess, too, and Bob was trying to adjust his glasses on his shoulder. 
When he turned to the side, he saw Bradley, Mickey and Jake all talking to Nova, but she was actually looking right at him as he very awkwardly shrugged his shoulder against his glasses. "I got you, Bob," she said, closing the distance to him and helping him out. She adjusted his frames on his face, and then she ran her fingers along his hair and behind his ears. "Better?"
He watched her pull her hands away and wished she wouldn't. "Yes," he whispered. "Thank you." Then he just stared at her as she made no move to back away. 
"You're welcome. Do you celebrate Hanukkah?"
He swallowed hard as he washed his hands and shook his head. "This is my... first time."
Her eyes lit up. "Oh! Perfect! You can help me light the candles, and I can teach you the prayers."
"Might as well light the menorah now," Natasha told her as she flipped some of the squishy looking potato blobs over in the hot oil. The kitchen smelled like fried food, and there was a huge box of donuts that the other guys already got into. Javy brought the dreidels into the kitchen, and he was currently spinning five at one time. This holiday actually didn't seem so bad. Especially when Nova reached for his hand. 
"Gather around," she announced with the kind of confidence Bob would never have, and all the guys followed her to the other side of the island. But she kept Bob right there with her and smiled up at him. "Here you go," she said, handing him the lighter. Then she stuck some candles in the menorah. 
"Don't you light them from left to right?" Bradley asked as he sipped a beer and ate a jelly donut while glaring at Bob.
"Yes!" she replied as she put the last candle in for the eighth night. 
"You want me to light them for you, Bob?" Bradley asked, and Bob was just about to hand the lighter over when Nova reached for his hand.
"I'm going to say a really pretty prayer in Hebrew about how Hanukkah is a time to celebrate miracles," she told him, seemingly ignoring the rest of the guys as Jake started whining that he was hungry. But Bob was transfixed. He was suddenly dying to hear this prayer. He could see the light smattering of freckles on Nova's cheeks as he stood this close to her. He never noticed before if Nat had freckles.
It would be a Hanukkah miracle if Bob could get through the evening. When she told him to light the center candle and then pick it up, he did. And then her hand joined his as they lit the candles together, but Bob wasn't looking at the menorah. He was looking at her face and the way her lips moved as she almost sang the prayer. Then he kept his hand on hers as long as he could, the warm candlelight making her face glow. 
When she dropped her hand to her side, Bob could feel her fingers kind of tangle with his, and he had no idea what to do about it. He was suddenly painfully aware that he'd never had a girlfriend before, and he almost wished she was paying this much attention to someone else. 
"Latkes are done!" Natasha announced, and Bob took a step away from Nova. He cleared his throat and then turned to leave the kitchen as everyone else made a dash for the food. When he retreated for the relative quiet of the powder room, he could feel dark eyes on his back.
Bob realized he'd been in the bathroom for long enough that someone might think he was sick, but he couldn't stop splashing cool water on his face. He had been prepared for something else tonight, but not this. Maybe Nova was just an annoying little sister to Phoenix, but to him, she was exquisite. He needed to leave now before he could embarrass himself more. 
After he dried his hands, he quietly opened the door, but then he paused. He could hear voices. Two female voices, and he could easily tell them apart as he stood there eavesdropping.
"Natasha, you lied to me," Nova whispered loudly. "You said Bob was kind of nerdy!"
Oh no. She must have thought Bob was extremely nerdy. Perhaps he could make a run for the front door, and maybe nobody would notice he'd gone.
"I mean, he is," Natasha replied softly. 
"No, he's not!" Nova hissed. "He's hot! You know I have a thing for glasses and biceps, you rotten liar!"
Now Bob was frozen in place. He was pretty sure they were talking about him, but there was a chance he misheard.
"Nova," Natasha snapped a little louder this time. "Bob is one of my best friends, and he's very kind. Do not toy with him."
There was a pause, but then Bob heard her soft response. "I wouldn't. You can tell how sweet he is from a mile away."
He looked in the mirror one more time before leaving the powder room. It wasn't that he was bad looking, it was just that he was awkward. Compared to the other guys, he was a joke. Maybe Nova somehow hadn't noticed that yet. He forced himself out to the small hallway where the two sisters were standing close together near the kitchen, and the way Nova looked at him just didn't make sense. 
"Grab some latkes," she said as he walked past. "I'll save you a spot on the couch for the gift exchange?"
Bob swallowed hard. "Sure. Thank you."
When he ducked into the kitchen, he heard her whisper to Nat, "He has nice manners, too."
Nat groaned. "I can't believe you have a crush on my WSO."
"Yeah, well, you shouldn't have kept this information from me."
Bob was anxiously piling a plate with more latkes than he could probably finish when Nova flounced into the room, picked up her half empty glass of wine along with an unused one and winked at him. "I'll be in the living room, and I have a glass for you," she said.
He looked down at the potato concoctions on his plate, and they looked good. He tried a bite, and it was delicious, but he'd lost his appetite. Nova Trace had a crush on him, and now he had to go sit with her and drink some wine without looking like a moron. 
After a few more bites, he pushed his plate aside and headed to the living room where she was sitting right next to Bradley. He had his arm draped across the back of the couch a little possessively, and Bob froze, blinking at the scene before him. He had the undeniable urge to remove Bradley's arm and wrap her up with own. 
"Bob," she called, scooting away from Bradley and patting the cushion. Once he squeezed in between her and Bradley, he realized he was touching her no matter what he did. And then she took his arm and draped it around her shoulders, leaning back against his chest a little bit. "It's a tight fit," she said, handing him a glass of wine. 
"Seriously?" Bradley grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head. Bob wasn't sure what to say as he had an armful of the cute girl who was in demand. This was all new to him. So he just drank all of his wine and pretended to watch everyone open their gifts. 
When he set his empty glass down on the table, Nat handed him a small box wrapped in silver paper. He didn't recognize the pretty handwriting that said To: Bob.
"Oh," Nova whispered, reaching for it. "You don't have to open it."
"It's from you?" Bob asked, and she looked up at him over her shoulder, face just inches from his.
"Yeah, but it just seems kind of dumb now," she muttered, playing with the hem of her top. "Nat made it seem like you were super nerdy or something," she laughed. "And clearly that's not the case. You're hot."
Bob chuckled; this whole entire night was completely absurd. "I've never been called hot before."
Nova rolled her eyes. "You know what? Just go ahead and open your present," she said, shoving the small box closer to his chest while she blushed. 
Bob started to carefully tear into the paper when Bradley leaned across Bob and asked, "I'm sorry, Nova, but did you just call Bob hot?"
"Yes," she replied immediately. 
Bradley stood and grunted while he put on the hat that Javy just gave him that said 100% Certified Fuckboy. "She picked Bob. Nice work man," he said, patting Bob's shoulder. "Who needs a beer?"
"I do," Nat told him as she eyed Bob and Nova together on the couch with curiosity. Bob wasn't sure what he should even say to her. It wasn't like he was going to date her sister or something. She lived in New York.
"Open it," Nova whispered. "Just open it so I can get my embarrassment over with."
Bob couldn't believe she seemed more embarrassed about the gift than she did about announcing to the room at large that she found him attractive. When he took the lid off the box and looked inside, it was filled with a set of sky blue dice. 
"I'm sorry," she said with a laugh. "Nat said you play Dungeons and Dragons, and I found the dice and thought they were pretty, and now I'm noticing that they're kind of the same shade as your eyes." She took the box from him, put the lid on and set it aside.
"Wait," he said, reaching across her to pick it up again. "I do play. And light blue is my favorite color. How did you know?"
"I didn't," she said, cheeks pink. "It's my favorite color, too."
He could see her freckles again as she grinned so close to him. Bob suddenly realized that the living room was getting loud as he held the box between his body and hers. "Thank you. I really like them. I was a little afraid to see what the guys were going to buy for me, so I'm glad it was from you."
"Nat dropped down on the couch on the other side of Bob as she spun the keychain around her finger that Bob got for her. "Thank you," she said, kissing him on the cheek as the airplane charm hit her palm. The guys were spinning as many dreidels on the coffee table as they could while fighting over the mound of chocolate candy coins. "You know, if it's a little too loud, you could always step outside for a minute," she told him, patting his thigh before joining the guys. 
"Let's take a break," Nova said as she stood and pulled him to his feet. Bob felt like Nat had just given him some sort of permission. But for what? "I could use a break as well. It's hot in here." 
She opened the front door and slipped out into the darkness on the small porch, and Bob joined her, closing the door and stifling the sounds inside. "Aren't your feet going to get cold?" he asked softly, looking down at her neon toenails.
"Good call," she replied before wrapping her arms around his neck and standing on the tops of his shoes. Bob's hands went to the soft curve of her waist immediately, startled by the sudden turn of events that had Nova's body pressed to his. "Is this okay?" she asked casually, looking up at him as she let her fingers trail down his neck.
His body was throbbing in delight as his brain cried out in terror. "Y-Yes. It's... very okay. You're very pretty." His eyes went wide as she laughed, and it sounded too intimate this close. He could feel her bare skin against his fingertips, and it was so soft. Softer than anything. He couldn't help the way he let his palms spread out on her back, as he blurted out, "I like you."
He noticed her soft smile first, and then her eyes closed. Bob was admiring how her eyelashes brushed her cheeks as she said, "I like you, too." And then she kissed him. She just kissed him. It was suddenly time for kissing. And then it was over before Bob really got to enjoy it. Nova was looking up at him like she was trying to gauge his reaction, but he just stood there trying to figure out what to do next. 
Her fingers stilled on his neck before she released him and tried to step away, her face falling into a much shyer look. But he kept his hands on her back. Her lips were softly parted, and Bob wanted them on his again. Even though he wasn't quite sure if he was doing any of it right, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers a little too hard at first. 
She moaned softly as she brought her hands back up around his neck, and Bob eased himself back a little bit, making the kiss softer. This felt good. She had smooth skin and eager lips, and now her fingers were in his hair as her cheek bumped his glasses. He felt like he was getting the hang of things when she parted her lips and tasted his tongue. 
Bob's hands slid down to grab at her hips through her leggings, and Nova laughed softly as she tasted him again. The soft vibrations against his lips had him more aware of his body than he ever had been before, but not in a bad way. He seemed to be making her feel excited as she wiggled her curvy hips back and forth slightly in his hands. 
Nova broke the kiss and raked her fingers along his forehead and back through his tidy hair. "You smell good," she told him, leaning in close again and running her nose along his neck. "Like... something outdoorsy mixed with a fried potato."
He couldn't help but laugh as she kissed the spot next to his Adam's apple. "That sounds like it would smell bad."
"It doesn't," she reassured him with a giggle. "It just makes me want to taste you." Bob had to press his lips together and count to ten in his head as Nova ran her tongue in a slow and steady stripe up his neck to his ear. When her lips met his earlobe, his hands on her hips were pulling her body closer to his as she said, "I could eat you up."
She was still standing on the tops of his feet, but now Bob had her back pressed against the doorframe. They were making out, and it was all coming pretty naturally for him. She kissed his neck and told him something sweet, so he decided to go ahead and try the same thing. "I think I love kissing you," he said, his voice raspier than normal as she tipped her head back.
Nova was moaning his name as he kissed the front of her neck, and she pressed her thigh against him. And oh no... Bob had an erection. She didn't seem bothered, but he pulled himself a few inches away from her and looked down at her pretty face. "Do you want to go back inside?" she asked, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. 
"Should we?" he asked softly, sliding his hands back up to her waist as she shrugged. 
"Probably. But I'm sure they all know exactly what we're doing out here."
His eyes went wide. "They do?"
She smiled and ran her fingers along his cheek. "Yeah, I'd venture to guess they know we were making out, Bob."
How was he supposed to go back inside now? He thought about just leaving; his truck was parked right there on the street. But he didn't want to go without his new dice. Or Nova.
He cleared his throat. "Yeah... maybe we should go back in."
"Okay." But first she wrapped her fingers around the back of his neck and pressed one more soft kiss to his lips. "Just let me know if you want to take another break, because I'd be more than happy to tag along."
Then she opened the door, and the bright light and loud laughter coming from inside were enough to have him reaching for Nova's hand as she stepped down from his feet and onto the living room floor. She looked back at him with a coy smile as she laced her fingers with his. It was so obvious that they had been kissing. Bob knew he was blushing, and her lips looked a little puffy from the way he'd been enjoying them. When Jake fist bumped him as they walked past, Javy winked, and Bradley was on the couch with Nat pouting. 
But Nat smiled and shook her head as Nova led Bob into the kitchen. "Want some more wine?" she asked, pulling a bottle from the refrigerator. There was something about the way she looked in the semi darkness as the candles from the menorah burned low. Her face was cast in warm light as well as shadows, and Bob found that leaning down to kiss her again was the most natural thing in the world. 
The cold bottle was pressed to his arm, and she kissed him back. When Bob opened his eyes again, his glasses were crooked and two of the candles had burned out. The kitchen was even darker now as she pecked his cheek and then strolled out into the living room. He took a few seconds to consider that now he'd initiated more kisses than she had. The desire to follow her and kiss her again was so strong, he almost tripped when he thought about her going back to New York. Had he ever felt this way about a girl after a few hours? No. Absolutely not.
He knew he should have found another place to sit in Nat's tiny, loud living room, but when he saw the spot on the couch next to Nova was empty, he couldn't force his steps in any other direction. She tracked him with her eyes, clearly feeling no shame about what was happening here. 
"How much have the rest of you had to drink?" she asked the guys. Jake was laying on the floor laughing while Javy tried to spin a dreidel on his nose. Bradley's cheeks were bright red, and he was half asleep at the other end of the couch. Mickey actually was asleep in the armchair. The only one who looked okay was Reuben. 
"A lot," Javy said. "We turned dreidels into a drinking game, and clearly Nat is better than the rest of us." Nat winked at Nova who winked back. "And Mickey can't hold his liquor for shit."
Nova laughed at him in the armchair. "Is that a WSO thing, Bob? Or can you handle another glass of wine?" she teased. 
"I can handle what you give me," he replied before he could consider how that might sound. She gasped softly and kind of nodded as she poured some more into his glass from earlier. 
"I guess we'll find out."
She tapped her glass to his, and they joined in the game with the others. Bob had never played before, but he was a quick study. It certainly didn't hurt that Nova kept touching his hands as she taught him what to do. And two glasses of wine later, Bob felt lighter and more carefree. His right hand was resting on her lower back, and she leaned in to his side as the game progressed. And the best part was, Nat seemed more than okay with this.
In fact, as midnight was fast approaching, Nat stood and stretched. "I'm beat. I don't care who stays over, but Nova is in the extra bedroom, so the rest of you can fight over the couches."
Bradley and Mickey both snored in response while Reuben started to gather Jake and Javy off the floor. "I'll drop the two of you off," he said. "It was nice to meet you, Nova. Thanks, Nat."
"Thanks, Nat," Javy and Jake echoed as Nat waved. Nova blew them each a kiss. 
Once they were gone, Nat started to gather up the empty wine bottles to take them into the kitchen, and Bob figured he should get ready to go as well. "Do you need help with anything?" he asked his friend, but she just waved him off. "No, I insist," he added.
He picked up some more of the trash the guys left, and as soon as he and Nova both stood, Bradley stretched out on the couch. "Just leave the rest of the mess. It's honestly fine. We can clean it up tomorrow," Nat said as she looked at her sister. 
Nova nodded. "Yeah, I'll help you clean everything when we wake up." 
They carried the trash they had already gathered in their arms to the kitchen, and then Nat hugged her sister before kissing Bob's cheek. "I'm assuming I'll see you again quite soon," she told him with an amused expression before she headed for the stairs. 
Bob wasn't sure exactly what that was supposed to mean, but he wasn't going to dwell on it. Right now he had to figure out a way to say goodbye to the woman in front of him. He wondered if there was some way he could tell her that the few hours he spent with her somehow meant something to him. If she lived in San Diego, he thought he would very much like to take her to dinner. Maybe he could figure out a way to say so without completely ruining the moments they'd shared tonight.
"Nova, I-"
It was time for more kissing. She didn't hesitate at all, almost like she felt as comfortable with this as he did. Her hand found the bottom of Bob's tee shirt and eased the fabric up so her palm could rest flat on his abs. She nibbled gently on his lip before she let him taste her tongue. She was sweet like wine. Then his hands were back on her hips again as she eased his shirt up a little further. 
"You had a lot to drink," she whispered with a wink, rubbing the tip of her nose against his. "Maybe you should come upstairs with me?" Bob wasn't drunk in the least, and he thought he knew what she meant. When his posture stiffened, she looked up at him. "It's just a twin bed, but we can both fit. If you want."
"You mean to... sleep?" he asked, embarrassed that he had to confirm instead of just knowing how to do things. 
Her hand glided down to the top of his jeans, and she laughed softly. "We don't have to mess around," she said as she kissed his lips softly. "But I don't think I can keep my lips away from yours."
When Bob nodded in agreement, heart pounding rapidly, she took him by the hand. Mickey and Bradley were both sound asleep in the living room where Bob made sure to grab his box of dice. Then he let Nova lead him upstairs. 
She looked back to smile at him a few times and tugged on his hand when he started to fall behind. Once they were in the extra bedroom with the soft lamplight and the door closed, Nova seemed a little more hesitant.
"Well, there's the twin bed," she said, gesturing toward it before putting her hands on her hips. Then she crossed her arms over her chest and laughed as she looked at the floor. "And I mean, obviously this was all a ploy to get to spend more time with you. But also, I don't think you should drive home after drinking so much wine." She paused before adding, "But mostly I just kind of thought maybe you and I could keep talking and making out."
Bob smiled when she looked up at him. "Yeah, I would like that."
She bit her lip, and Bob swore he had never in his life seen a woman who was so eager to be around him. He toed off his shoes before reaching for her hand again. And then he decided he was going to go for it. He was going to say what was on his mind as they both sat down on the edge of the bed together. 
"Hey, Nova? I..." he paused as he looked at her pretty face, and he had to clear his throat before he kept going. "You're really... I like you a lot, and I just wanted you to know that if you lived in San Diego, I would ask you on a date."
She scooted a little closer and let her hand come to rest on his thigh. "Where would you take me?" she asked, pressing her lips to his jaw as he stuttered.
"I would... I'd take you to um, a restaurant that I like called Starlite. It's in the city. It's really pretty inside at night, and they have fairy lights and champagne. And I think you'd look beautiful sitting at one of the tables with me."
"Oh my god," she moaned against his jaw, and Bob had absolutely no control over how his body was reacting to her. "Tell me more."
He tried to keep talking as she moved her hand further up his thigh, but he wasn't sure he was making sense. "I'd get you whatever you wanted, of course. But the steak is really good, so I'd ask if you wanted that. And. And I'd be hoping the waiter was really slow, because you'd look so pretty with the soft lights all around you. I'd want to keep you there with me as long as I could."
"I want to go," Nova whispered, kissing his ear. "I can practically picture it."
Bob closed his eyes, willing his cock to stop having a mind of its own as her fingers went as high as the bottoms of his boxer briefs. If she kept this up, Bob would have to excuse himself, and he really didn't want to leave her right now. Then she straddled his thighs and wrapped her arms around his neck, and Bob's arms were full of her. 
"I wish we could," he whispered, unsure what to do with his hands. "I'd take you there tomorrow, but Nat told me you're flying back east in the evening." He finally let his hands settle on her waist as she nodded sadly. 
"I am," she said as her lips brushed his. "But just humor me. Would you kiss me at Starlite?"
"I'd have to," he replied immediately. "It would be mandatory. All the light and shadows on your face... you'd be ethereal. And if you were looking at me, I wouldn't be able to help myself."
"Bob," she moaned against his lips, nibbling on him softly as her fingers went to his hair. "And where would you take me for our second date?"
He laughed as she licked his tongue. "You'd go out with me a second time?"
"You're joking right?" Nova asked, pulling back a few inches as she played with his hair. "This is all hypothetical, and it's still the best date I've ever been on."
"Okay," Bob replied, and he couldn't help but smile as she nodded for him to go on. "For our second date, I'd take you to the Mission Hills Rooftop Theater."
"What would we watch?" she asked, smiling as Bob let his hands drift up a little bit under her shirt. 
He shrugged. "Probably a foreign film. You'd think it was cool, but I'd just be watching the way the colorful lights flickered across your face."
She squeaked softly. "Can we pretend we're at the theater now?"
"Sure," he whispered with a smile. "We're at the theater. You look beautiful, reading all the subtitles. But I lost track of the plot of the film already."
"Why's that?" she asked with a grin.
"Can't pay attention to anything except you."
She pushed on his chest until he was laying on his back, her long hair brushing the side of his face as she leaned down to kiss him. She was rubbing herself against his hard length through his jeans and making little sounds that he'd never heard before. His hands were stroking higher, and he could feel her bra with his fingertips. He didn't want any of this to stop.
"Now you seem like a respectable guy, Bob," she murmured. "Would you take me home with you after our second date or make me wait until our third?"
Oh no. Bob loosened his grip on her as he went silent. Nova was still kissing her way across his cheek to his ear when her movements slowed. She eyed him curiously before nudging the rim of his glasses with her nose. 
"Bob?"
He swallowed hard and closed his eyes. "I don't know. I've never... taken a girl home before."
She looked down at him with a soft smile on her lips. "What?" she asked as she pushed her fingers back through his hair. 
Bob was terrified that she would stop touching him as soon as he said the words. She was so lovely, gravitating right to him all night just the same way he subconsciously felt like he wanted to be near her. He already recognized that he could fall for his friend's little sister. Maybe he already had. 
He took a deep breath as he adjusted his glasses. She was waiting for him to respond, and there was no point in lying about it now. "I'm a virgin."
Nova's brow creased, and her lips parted wordlessly. She examined his face, probably trying to see if he was lying, because there's no way someone his age shouldn't have lost his virginity by now. And it was a million times worse for a guy than for a girl. He knew that. It was all so very embarrassing. 
She didn't laugh, rather she kissed the corner of his lips and simply asked, "How?"
Bob shrugged. "I'm awkward."
"No. You're hot," she replied, shaking her head. "That's not it."
He tried to turn his head and look away, but she followed his gaze until he returned her soft smile. "I'm not really sure," he whispered. "I got close a few times, but it just didn't seem right. That sounds dumb."
"No, it doesn't," she replied, surprising Bob as she kissed him again. "Are you picky?" she asked between each soft press of her lips to his.
"Yeah. Kind of," he told her honestly. "Always have been. Picky about who I spend time with.
She brushed her fingers back through his hair again, and Bob melted at her touch. "That makes sense. A guy like you should be picky."
Somehow Nova was making him feel a lot more normal about this as she wasn't shying away from him. "Picky," he confirmed. "And the timing was never right."
"That's important," she said with a smile. "You have to do what feels good to you."
Bob swallowed hard. He was picky, but he really liked Nova. And for some reason, tonight out of all nights kind of felt right. He could easily blame Nat's Hanukkah party and the soft glow of the menorah candles on Nova's face for getting him to this point. She was on top of him, still kissing him, and he didn't want this to end. 
"This feels good to me," he blurted out, reaching up to push his fingers through her dark hair. "Tonight feels right."
She nodded, smiling as she crawled off of him, leaving Bob a little cold as he missed the feeling of her immediately. He sat up on the bed as she crawled up to the pillows and whispered, "Come here." She coaxed him along until she was laying on the pillows and he was on top of her, bracing himself with his arms so he didn't hurt her. 
"Okay, so, we already went to Starlite for dinner and then to the Mission Hills Rooftop Theater. I'll give you until our third date to make your move," she whispered, grinning up at him as she ran he hands up his biceps. "Where are you taking me?"
He took a deep breath; now was not the time for this wave of confidence to falter. "Cliffs beach. I'm packing a picnic, and we can sit in the bed of my truck and watch the sunset while we eat."
Nova moaned again and hooked her leg around Bob's thigh, pulling him impossibly closer. "Dinner was perfect. But now that the sun went down, I'm a little chilly."
"Well, I could keep you warm." He kissed her. "I'd hold you as I tried to work up the nerve to ask you if you wanted to come back to my place."
"I'm wrapped up in your arms, patiently waiting for you to ask," she replied with a smirk.
He nodded, and he knew he was blushing. This whole thing was kind of silly, but it just made sense. "I really like you. I could probably fall for you. If I let myself," he whispered, and she whimpered softly. "Do you want to come back to my place, Nova?"
"Absolutely."
Her hands were all over his face and in his hair, and eventually she took his glasses off and set them on the nightstand. She kissed him slowly as she rolled her hips up against his, and Bob blushed as he got hard again. When she carefully pulled his shirt off, she set it next to the pillow, and then she explored his body with her hands. But as soon as she pulled her own NYU shirt off and was laying beneath him, she arched her back. 
Bob reached beneath her, and he fumbled for a few seconds before he unhooked her bra. As he pulled the black lace away from her body and looked down at her breasts and her confident face, he marked this as the furthest he'd ever gone with a woman. She seemed to sense he needed a moment as she ran her fingers through his hair as he stuttered, "You're gorgeous."
Nova looked up at him with her playful dark eyes, but right now they seemed a little more serious. "I could probably fall for you, too."
Then his lips were on hers, and his hands went to her breasts gently stroking each soft handful. He could fall for this, he was sure of it. He wanted to take her on all of those dates, and he would have if he could have. He was charmed by her, and she seemed equally interested in him. 
"Bob," she moaned, breaking the kiss and tipping her head back as he pushed himself against her core. He brought his lips down to taste her breasts, and soon she was rolling her hips a little faster. "That feels good," she whispered as she looked up at him. "I like that."
Nova responded just like that to everything he did. When he kissed the side of her neck, she blushed a pretty shade of pink. She shivered for him when he ran his fingers down her side. When he paused with his hand just above the top of her leggings, she whispered, "Bob, you're making me kind of crazy."
She guided his hand down a few more inches with her own, but she didn't get annoyed when he took his time pulling her leggings and underwear off. His heart was pounding as he looked at her, completely naked. Maybe she could sense his hesitation, because she sat up, too, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I'll tell you if I don't like something, okay? And you do the same?"
He nodded. "I like everything so far. I just don't want to mess this up."
"You won't," she promised, taking his face in both of her hands and kissing him softly at first. Then her lips became more demanding, and Bob wrapped one strong arm around her, pulling her on top of him. She giggled against his lips before swiping his tongue with her own. 
Her fingers roamed his bare torso and found the light trail of hair below his belly button. "I'm going to take your jeans off," she whispered, carefully unbuttoning and unzipping them. Her hair was already kind of a mess, and he knew his must have been as well. But then all thoughts left his mind as she started to pull his pants down. Bob wasn't dumb; he knew he was at least average size from the amount of time he'd spent in naval locker rooms. But he was surprised by her soft gasp when she pulled his underwear down far enough that his erection sprang free. Then his jeans, socks and underwear were in a pile at the bottom of the small bed, and he was naked, too.
He grunted as she wrapped her hand around him. This was the best thing he ever felt. Until she kissed him there. "Oh god, Nova. Wait," he moaned, and she looked up at him with wide eyes. "Don't we need a condom?"
She responded by licking his length before crawling up his body to kiss his lips. "I can go ask my sister if she has any if you want to use one." 
"No!" he gasped, nearly headbutting her as he sat up. "No, don't do that." Bob wasn't sure that Natasha would respond kindly to that question coming from her sister. "Please don't."
But Nova was all smiles as she straddled his waist. "Okay," she whispered as he braced himself with his hand behind him on the bed. "I won't alert Natasha to the fact that we're about to have sex."
Bob sighed in relief and reached out to push her hair behind her ear. "Actually, if you could not mention her again right now, that would be great." 
Now she was laughing softly as she scooted up until Bob could feel her wet pussy rubbing his cock. "Promise," she confirmed as he looked up at her face. When he glanced down between them, all he could see was her perfect body and his cock jumping against her in excitement. "I'm on birth control anyway," she whispered, kissing along his jaw. "And I know you're a little nervous, but so am I."
"Why?" he asked, surprised by her words. 
Nova hummed as she kissed her way back to his lips. "I want this to feel good for you." She wrapped her arms around his neck as she slowly rolled her hips against him and made the softest sounds. His heart rate picked up as she added, "I want you to think about our hypothetical dates after I'm gone."
He was sure he would be thinking about Nova for a very long time. She was all gentle fingers in his hair and confident smiles. She was beautiful, and Bob could easily get addicted to this. 
She guided him to lay back on the pillows as she asked, "You ready?" 
"Yeah." His voice sounded hoarse as he looked up at her and pushed her hair over one shoulder. When he let his hands trail over the soft skin of her shoulders, breasts and sides, she shivered as she kissed him. Bob could feel her hand around his length, and then his head tipped away from her as he moaned. "Does that feel good?"
Good. That didn't seem like the right word for it, but now his brain felt a little hazy. Nova's lips ghosted over his as he moaned again. She felt tight and inviting, and when she rolled her hips with him inside her like this, Bob gripped her hip a little tighter. His other hand ended up tangled in her hair as he traced her freckled cheek with his thumb. "Nova," he gasped against her lips before devouring her. 
Her soft noises got a little louder, and each roll of her hips had Bob praying that this would never end. Every passing second was better than the last. Every time she whispered his name and tasted his tongue was too exciting. When she ended up on her back, looking up at him with wide eyes and parted lips, he kissed her neck and pushed himself deep inside her.
"Oh," she moaned, and he had to slowly shake his head to keep his focus. Her leg was hooked up around his hip, and he was suddenly very aware that he didn't know how to make her orgasm. 
"Nova?" he gasped as she reached for his hand. But he should have known she'd be willing to help him with this as she showed him where and how to rub her. 
"Fuck," she whined, taking a few gasping breaths. "That feels so good." He kept moving his hips, too, and a few seconds later, as she was nibbling on his lip and whining, he felt her squeezing around him. "Bob. Bob. Bob!"
Her back was arched off the bed, and her breasts bounced with every wild breath she took, and then he had no idea it would all happen so fast for him. He tucked his face against her neck and shoulder as he bucked into her without finesse. He couldn't control it. He came so hard, his vision looked like a kaleidoscope of colors when he opened his eyes. But she was right there, and she was perfect.
He half collapsed against her chest as she played with his hair, and it felt like it might have been a long time before he moved. Bob wrapped his arms a little tighter around her, and even though he thought he should feel timid, he didn't. He felt so relaxed and almost loved as she touched him like this. When he tipped his face up to look at her, she was smiling. 
He was picky, and the timing never felt right before now. But Nova was lovely, and tonight was the right night. "My Hanukkah wish is to go on all of those dates with you," he whispered, and she closed her eyes as she blushed. "And see how pretty you'd look with the sun setting and all the fairy lights."
She leaned up slightly to kiss his lips. "I wish we could."
As she laced her fingers with his, Bob whispered, "Maybe we can trade phone numbers? And talk until you get tired of me."
She nodded and asked, "And what if I don't ever get tired of you?"
Bob studied her face as she ran her fingers through his hair and down his neck to his shoulder. "Then we'll go on the dates for real."
Eventually they fell asleep around four in the morning after talking and having sex again. When Bob woke up at nine, it was to Nova's lips on his neck and her voice in his ear. "Morning, Bob." 
He just held her a little tighter. When they went downstairs, nobody was surprised they'd spent the night together, not even Nat. She greeted him with a kiss on the cheek, and he ended up staying all day, even after Bradley and Mickey both left. He just wanted to be around Nova for as long as possible, but eventually he had to leave so her sister could take her to the airport. So she could go back to New York.
"I'll miss you," she promised when she walked him out to his truck. She took his phone and saved her number for him. 
"Should I text you now? So you have mine, too?"
She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, "Fair warning, once you text me, I'll write back and probably never stop."
Bob laughed softly and quickly typed up a text to her while she kissed his neck. 
I miss you already, and I didn't even leave yet.
Then he kissed her back until her sister started yelling out the front door about going to the airport. "Bye, Bob," Nova whispered before kissing his cheek and bounding back in the house. As he drove away, his phone lit up in the cup holder with a series of texts from her, and he hoped she was telling the truth when she said she wouldn't stop.
----------------------------
Five months later...
"Are you really this nervous to see her again?" Natasha asked him as they walked through JFK airport together. "You've talked to her everyday for months. Hell, you flew out to see her for a weekend in March."
Bob blushed as he thought about those three days when he'd been here during a late winter snowstorm that kept him and Nova inside her apartment for most of the weekend. She'd hardly let him out of her bed. And while they weren't dating, not exactly, Bob knew he wanted to be.
"Yeah, I'm a little nervous. She has no idea I'm here for her graduation. Do you know how hard it was to lie to her?"
Nat laughed as they walked outside in the May sunlight to get a cab to Nova's apartment. Bob was slightly afraid she'd be upset when they got there. Or maybe there would be evidence of another guy. It might break his heart, but he'd have to accept it. But he just couldn't get past that night they spent together during Hanukkah, and he'd been falling in love with her since then. Even over the phone.
"I'm sure she'll be happier to see you than me," Nat told him. It seemed like no time passed at all before they were pulling up to the building he'd only seen once when it was surrounded by a layer of snow. 
He got out of the cab and stood awkwardly on the sidewalk as Natasha got her phone out. She looked up at him with a smile as she called her sister. "I'm here," she said before looking at the blank screen. "She screamed and then hung up."
Bob laughed nervously with his backpack on and Nat's hand rubbing his arm in a soothing circle. "If she's not excited to see me, I'll just get a hotel room or try to exchange my ticket for something earlier," he mumbled. 
But the next thing he knew, Nova was throwing open the door to her building. She barely looked at her sister before she gasped, "Bob!" and launched herself down the stairs and into his arms. 
"Hi," he whispered as she clung to the front of him and shamelessly kissed his lips and neck right in front of her sister. "I missed you."
She moaned softly and wrapped her arms around him as she let her cheek rest on his chest. "You brought me Bob? Is he my graduation present?" she asked Natasha as Bob ran his fingers through her hair and chuckled.
"Something like that," she replied, reaching for the key that was still in Nova's hand. "I'll meet the two of you inside." 
As Nat let herself in the building, Nova looked up at him. "You lied to me. You said you had to work this weekend."
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'll never do it again." She was melting into his touch as he cleared his throat and added, "I know you're still going on interviews and trying to decide on a job, but I took next week off just in case I could persuade you to come back to San Diego for a bit."
She smiled. "Now why would I want to do that?"
Bob shrugged. "I just really think we should go on those three dates before I ask you to be my girlfriend."
"Starlite. Mission Hills Rooftop Theater. Cliffs beach," she said softly.
"In that order," he confirmed. "But I'd be taking you home with me after each one."
"Then yes."
---------------------------
Happy Holidays! I'll be thinking about Bob and Nova through the New Year. Thanks to @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls and @ryebecca
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alphajocklover · 2 months ago
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1,000 Followers Special: Douchebag Revolution, The Revolution Begins
I’ve never claimed to know all the details about the strange things I report on. I know more about the world of transformations than most people, and even most other TF reporters, but I don’t know everything. I don’t know who made InstaJock, I don’t know what about the town of Maxford turns people within it into straight jocks, and I don’t know why wishing on a specific star turns people into jocks, even if it is some sort of magical supernova. Even the Douchebag Revolution, one of the groups I’m on good terms with, has its secrets. As loud, dumb — and if I’m being honest, obnoxious — as the members of the revolution can be, they are surprisingly skilled at keeping secrets. They tend to ‘prank’ me and other reporters with fake info, which makes getting any information out of them like pulling teeth. With a lot of persistence, and a bit of bribery, I have been able to get some interesting info out of them though. Including the true story of how the revolution began. It was told to me by one of my contacts in the revolution, and confirmed by another outside the revolution, so I’m sure it’s true. I won’t be retelling the story word for word, due to some of the… stylistic choices made by the douchebag who told me it, but I’ll do my best to do it justice.
As some of you might remember, the Douchebag Revolution was formed to fight against SAD, the Society Against Douchebags. The mysterious group were using futuristic technology and time travel to transform straight douchebags into gay nerds. That might not sound so bad, especially considering the other stuff I’ve reported on, but messing around with time is dangerous, especially on such a scale. No one, not even the revolution, knows why they go to such lengths, or why they want to get rid of douchebags so badly in the first place. There are theories out there, but even for me they’re a little out there. What is known is that they were transforming douchebags into nerds left and right before the revolution began. From what I understand it actually looked like they were close to getting rid of douchebags entirely for a moment. Until they messed with the wrong guy. Or, I suppose, the wrong brothers.
Despite having a 2 year age difference between them, Chase and Mike Hayfield were practically twins. They had the same hobbies, the same interest, and were even the same height and weight, something the younger Mike would often tease the older Chase about. They were as close as brothers could be, and loved each other dearly. That was why it was a shock to both of them when they realized that their close relationship was never meant to be. Before SAD got involved, Chase was nothing like Mike. Chase was a classic, muscular, douchebag jock, one who basically despised his nerdy fag little brother Mike. Neither brother would have been aware of this… if they hadn’t used Chase’s blood for one of their experiments. SAD’s nanobots, the ones that had changed Chase’s DNA and brain chemistry as he grew, were designed to be invisible to almost all tests. But due to their experiment, and the fact that Chase was one of their earliest victims, Mike was able to discover the nanobots, and use them to get information about SAD. Each brother was horrified, but for completely different reasons. Chase was horrified at the person he was supposedly ‘supposed’ to be. He hated douchebags, and the thought of hating his own brother made him feel sick, made him want to run and hide from the truth they had discovered. Mike, however, was horrified that someone had been manipulating his brother’s life. He believed that no one should be able to manipulate someone's life like that, to change them on such a level without permission or even letting the person know what they had lost. He was scared he’d lose his big brother… but he wanted his big brother to be who he really was. He could see that a part of Chase, a part of him he wasn’t even aware of, missed who he used to be, and he was the one who convinced Chase to take the cure they synthesized. Mike Hayfield, a complete nerd, was the one who started the Douchebag Revolution.
Most douchebags actually get a little pissed when someone brings this up. I mean, they got saved from a bunch of fucking scientist by a ‘nerdy fag.’ But most of them don’t say anything. They don’t want to insult their leader after all. Chase Hayfield may be a huge douchebag, but he never lets anyone insult his little brother.
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**Hope you guys like this! I actually had a hard time writing this one, but I'm glad how it turned out. Stay tuned for more!**
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littlexdeaths · 3 months ago
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we should probably hear him out, right?
older brother’s best friend eddie x fem reader
warnings: angst, miscommunication, reader is bratty and mean bc her insecurities get the best of her, eddie is far too sweet for his own good.
it’s a recipe for disaster masterlist.
a/n: ngl i did struggle a bit with this one, so i really wanna thank @strangerstilinski & @uglypastels & @undead-supernova for giving me some much needed advice. ily all 💕also this is a tad bit long… oopsie. xx.
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eddie was beyond confused.
you haven’t spoken to him in days and whenever he came around to see sid, you had holed yourself up in your room. your bedroom window remained locked and despite his futile attempts to get you to open up, you ignored him.
it was such a complete 180 from how you’d been acting only a few days prior— so he couldn’t help but assume the worst.
maybe you had changed your mind, regretted this… or more specifically regretted him.
what else was he supposed to think?
but you really couldn't help yourself — too busy replaying that moment over and over in your head.
a flash of strawberry blonde hair. and the memory of eddie’s gentle gaze directed so sweetly at someone who decidedly wasn't you…
it had the green mist that clouded your mind twisting into something else entirely, something uglier. jealousy gave way to hurt, and hurt gave way to anger.
seeing eddie with her had pushed all of your insecurities to the surface. they bubbled hotly beneath your ribs and left you feeling sick to your stomach for the first few days, but that was before you realized that anger was far easier to deal with than sadness.
now, you clung to your rage like a safety blanket.
and while you wanted to be angry with both of them— it really wasn’t chrissy’s fault.
so you took that anger and frustration out on him, as childish as it was. and the more days that passed, your cold shoulder morphed into clipped words and pointed glares.
it was enough for even sid to take notice.
“dude, i don’t know what happened but i think i preferred it when she was making heart eyes at you.” he’d said after you stormed through the garage during one of their band practices.
purposefully knocking your shoulder against eddie’s while you passed by. it was so completely out of character for you that it had all the guys stunned into an uncomfortable silence.
but despite how poorly you continued to treat him, eddie kept showing up regardless. while it was always under the guise of hanging out with your brother, you knew better.
he tried his best to find a time to pull you aside to talk to you, but you were being more elusive than ever. and his own frustrations with your actions began to weigh heavily on him.
and one of these days he would explode— whether sid was there to witness it or not.
everything finally reaches a boiling point just a week later, when you came downstairs to find eddie lounging on your sofa. a random horror flick playing on the tv and your brother nowhere to be found.
while you could’ve turned around and retreated to the privacy of your room, the petty side of you wants to continue to push his buttons. so you make your way down the stairs, quietly shuffling behind the sofa and leaning your hip against it.
once you have a better view you can’t help but roll your eyes at the choice of the film, the cover art staring up at you almost mockingly.
cheerleader camp, what a surprise.
“really, munson? i thought you of all people would’ve had better taste than this shit.”
your voice sounds a beat before a dramatic score fills the room and eddie jumps in surprise. his curls bounce when his head whips around to peek up at you, and you expect to be met with a look of irritation. but you’re more than confused to see the relief that flits across his features instead.
because at least you’re talking to him.
“what’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.
and you have to look away from the intensity of his gaze, already feeling your defenses start to crumble. damn him. so you advert your attention back to the movie, jaw tightening as you see a flash of brightly colored pom poms fill the screen.
“oh, nothing…” you inhale sharply, “it’s just obvious that you have a type.”
you gesture towards the tv and any lingering anger swirling in your body begins to dissipate. but before he can see the flash of hurt in your eyes, you quickly turn on your heel and start to climb the stairs back towards your room.
“whoa— whoa, sweetheart, hang on!” eddie huffs, hopping over the back of the sofa to rush after you.
only his socks slip on the hardwood floor and he almost goes tumbling to the ground. but he’s able to catch himself on the banister, and uses the momentum to skip past the first few steps to the landing.
“i really don’t want to do this right now, eddie.”
a glance over your shoulder has you quickening your pace, practically taking the stairs two at a time in an effort to put more distance between you. but eddie is a lot faster than you gave him credit for. the male was already hot on your heels once you reach the top of the staircase.
“jesus christ— slow down!”
you ignore him and continue down the hall toward your bedroom, and you’ve barely crossed the threshold before he’s tugging on your wrist to whirl you back around. eddie is practically panting as he pulls you closer and it takes everything in your power not to lean into his touch.
“will you please just tell me what the hell is going on?” he pleads, leaning against the door-jam.
“i don’t know, why don’t you ask your new girlfriend about it?” you scoff, yanking your wrist out of his grip and attempting to slam the door in his face.
but eddie sticks his foot into the crack right before it can fully close, wincing as a fiery pain shoots up into his calf. and despite the throbbing in his foot, he pushes his way into your room.
“mouse, what are you even talking about?”
you can hear the frustration that begins to bleed into his voice, but you keep your back to him. you know that seeing him was going to make this that much harder.
“please just cut the bullshit eddie, i saw you with her,” you voice cracks as you try to swallow down the emotions threatening to burst from your chest.
“with who?”
“— chrissy!”
it’s silent for a beat, besides the sounds of your heavy breathing. so when you finally muster the courage to face him. that confused, yet hurt expression doesn’t falter.
“sweetheart, i honestly don’t know what you’re so upset about.”
he rubs a hand down his face with a deep sigh.
“i’m not blind, eddie,” you’re almost offended that he thinks he might be able to get away with pretending that it never happened. “i saw how she looked at you.”
eddie just stares at you for a moment, bewildered and unblinking. until he suddenly bursts into a fit of laughter, which only re-ignites the hurt and fury that’s been swirling in your gut for the past week and a half.
“i really don’t see how any of this is funny, eddie,” you snap.
“it’s just….” he practically wheezes, taking a step toward you. “you’ve got this whole thing wrong, baby.”
the slip of the pet name has your insides fluttering, despite your lingering resentment.
“well enlighten me, then.”
it takes him a minute to calm down completely, but once he does he’s reaching out for your hands and closes the lingering space between your bodies.
“i promise you, mouse. i’m really not her type.”
your snort has him sighing deeply before he cradles your cheeks between his palms. while you’re not satisfied with that answer, your anger starts to fizzle under the warmth of his gaze.
eddie then licks his lips while he attempts to collect his thoughts and your eyes can’t help but follow the motion.
“let’s just say… we bat for the same team.”
embarrassment immediately floods through you as the weight of his words begin to sink in.
and now you feel like a total idiot.
“oh.” you breathe.
“yeah, oh,” he chuckles.
“oh my god, i’m so stupid,” you groan, letting your head fall forward to bump into his shoulder.
“hey, you’re not stupid, mouse. just maybe… a little prone to jumping to conclusions.”
you can feel him laugh again as he envelopes you completely in his arms. and you gladly bury your face deeper into the crook of his neck in an effort to hide your warm cheeks.
“however…” he continues, “next time, if i do something that makes you worry like that. will you promise to just come and talk to me?”
he can feel you nod your head, his body relaxing when your lips press into his clothed shoulder.
“while i know i can an asshole sometimes, i’m not a total prick.”
eddie grins when that pulls a giggle out of you, having missed that sound more than he’d care to admit. the male then gently grips your chin between his thumb and fore finger, coaxing you up until you meet his eyes.
and there’s nothing but sincerity that shines through them.
“so, what do you say?” he muses.
your head tilts in slight confusion as he leans in to nudge his nose with yours, your breath mingling together.
“be my girl?”
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series taglist: @nailbatanddungeon @angel-eyes-and-devil-hearts @mugloversonly @eddiemunsonfuxks @munsonhoneybaby @alagalaska @creative1writings @missmarch-99 @stolen-in-moonlight @xxbimbobunnyxx @calumfmu @bastardstevie @prestinalove @indigosparkle444 @tlclick73 @hellfire--cult @take-everything-you-can
let me know if you’d like to join the taglist!
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esggs · 4 months ago
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Kill The Damned Phone - Choso Kamo
[wc: 1500+]
[ tw: Choso Kamo x Reader, smut, fluff, established relationship, interrupted sex, blowjob, throat-fucking, prone bone, slight bondage, Choso being an absolute darling ]
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“Nghh, Choso, right- fuck- right there!” You breathe out as Choso’s tongue runs over the shell over your ear. His chest to your back, your face buried into a pile of pillows, his entire right arm pulling your hips into him as he ruts into you prone bone. “Mhmm” he smiles, “you like it, baby?”
“I like you ∼” How cute. you can feel his lips stretching into a smile against your neck. He gives your wet pussy a slower, deeper grind to show his appreciation, pulling a sweet moan out of you. 
A slow Sunday morning with nothing much to do. Choso had woken up much before you, as usual, and by the time you had washed up and dressed, he was done making breakfast. Tamagoyaki rolls, natto rice balls, leftover pizza and two bottles of yakult each. Choso, your sweet man, read you the news headlines he deemed important as you washed the dishes– “A tunnel collapsed in Sendai” “Putin might be gay” “India is stopping rice exports”. He’d given you a spank on the ass as punishment for wiping your hands dry on his sweatpants. That ended up with him pounding you into the blankets, your hands pinned over your head with his left wrist. Ah, to be young and in love. 
“You just like me? I thought it was love” He teases. “It’s so sad, my baby doesn’t love me!” 
Your giggles are broken by a gasp as he bites into your neck. What a pretty collection of hickies. “Yeah, this is what you get. There’s no love for grown men who bite.”
“Aww” He pouts so cutely that you have to risk spraining your neck to give him a kiss. He adjusts himself further up your body - fuck, that felt good, he’s so deep in me now, shit- to make it easier for you to reach his lips. He deserves all the kisses, that sweetheart. You peck his nose too, for good measure.
“Babe,” He asks. “Should I use Flowing Red Scale? Or would it be too much for you?”
Before you open your mouth to reply, his phone’s ringing. He sighs into the nape of your neck before dislodging himself and reaching for it, taking the charging cable off it before he holds it up to his ear. “Hello? Yuuji?” 
From where you lie on the bed, it is a weird mixture of hot and hilarious. Choso’s hair is a mess, his lips puffy from your bites (he tells you to stop biting his lips but you vehemently refuse). His neck, chest, abs and arms have not been spared from your teeth either, all littered with little hickies. He’s squatting on the bed, silently trying to make sure his still-hard cock doesn’t drip your wetness on the bed sheet, while he holds his entire arm up, elbow lifted, to keep the phone to his ear, like a middle-aged dad. “Little brother, is that you?”
“Onii-san!” It’s not on speaker phone but you can hear the kid loud and clear through the phone. “I’ll make it quick: how do you do a Supernova?”
“Oh, good, good! You’re practising the harder skills now!” Choso momentarily forgot the cock-wet-not-touch-bed-sheet thing in his excitement. You just smile, letting him figure it out himself. “It’s hard to explain it over the phone, but it’s like this. Now pay attention: You let yourself feel every drop of your blood, okay? In every cell, then it goes fwoop–” He balled his free hand into a fist, “and then you wait till it’s time, and then you let it go.” He mimicked an explosion with his hand. “But when you let it go, make sure it all goes at once.”  
“Ehhhh?” You can vividly imagine Yuuji’s grimace on the other side of the phone. You couldn’t keep your laugh in. For Choso, Blood Manipulation came as naturally as breathing, he didn’t consciously take note of every step. It was a bit hard for him to explain things; just as hard as it was for Yuuji to understand his explanation. “Oh– Is y/n-san there with you?”
“Yeah, say hi-” “G’morning, y/n-san!”
“Hello, is this my favourite little prodigy?” You did baby Yuuji a bit, taking on the role of an older sister that he never had. “What’re you practising?”
“I’ve already gotten Piercing Blood down actually,” he says. “Supernova’s next, but I don’t get anything Onii-san said. Do you wanna come down to practice later?” You mull it over. Yuuji’s punches hit hard (even when he was holding back)  and you didn’t really want to experience that again, but having done martial arts for far longer than him, you could teach him new techniques. You suppose it’s a sacrifice you’re willing to make.
“Aw, sure. 6 evening?”
“6 evening. See you then, y/n-san!” Click. 
“He didn’t even say goodbye to me.” Choso huffs. “He likes you too much.”
You laugh, both at his words and the sorrow in his eyes when he realised that he’s stained the bed sheet. “He’s at that age where family is embarrassing, especially his doting onii-san. He’ll grow up, don't worry.” You rise to push a kiss at the crown of Choso’s head. “I hate training with him really, he hits so hard. I don’t know anyone with that kind of raw strength!”
“Really?” Choso has you under him in a flash. “You don’t know anyone?” He wrenches your legs apart and pins them under his knees. “Struggle then, let me show you.” 
You grin. This will be fun.
You let a minute pass to trick him into thinking you’re not doing anything. A bird sings out the window, you both turn to look, and -you’re gone. Slipped out from under him and jumped off the bed and out the bedroom door. “Oh, you little!” You hear him laughing as he scampers off the bed, running after you. This was so fun, you can’t stop giggling, even though, as you register now, it is a bit weird running with Choso’s pre running down your thighs.
Oh well, it is what it is.
He corners you at the living room table, trying to catch you while you jump over the table and leap onto the sofas. 
I’ve got you now, birdie. 
He knows there’s nowhere for you to go, you know you’re not going anywhere. You’ve got your arms ready to strike if he comes any closer, but he doesn’t stop walking to you. This is fine, you can take him hand-to-hand. Uppercut, a left jab, left hook to the jaw, straight punch to the liver- he dodges it all. You’re about to go for his solar plexus, as - “Blood Manipulation: Crimson Binding”
“That’s so fucking cheating!” You yell out at the unfairness of the universe. Your hands are tied behind your back, so you immediately resort to kicking Choso, so he just binds your legs too. “That’s unfair, baby!”
“I like it though.” He giggles, “I never said cursed techniques are out of play.” The bindings on your legs are getting heavier, making you drop to your knees. “Ooh” Chose is way too happy with this, watching your boobs bounce as you fall. “I really like it.” 
You look up as he walks close, his cock, growing again at the sight of you like that, gingerly touches your lips. “Make me happy, yeah, love?”
You smile up at him, giving him a little kiss at his leaking tip. “Go ahead, baby.” you tell him. 
He leans down to kiss you so deeply, spitting into your mouth to make sure it’s wet enough. Then he straightens up, wiping his cock over your lips and cheek, making a mess of your face. He’s just got his fingers into your hair, thrusting his huge cock full into your throat in one go as you choke back gag after gag, groaning at the feel of your throat constricting around his cock, his perfect little fleshlight, your nose in his happy trail and balls against your spit-slick chin. He’s just started leaning over you, shoving your mouth down his cock as you run your tongue over his shaft, going rougher as the sight of your lust-drunk eyes drives him wild. He’s literally just getting started– when his phone rings again. 
He sighs sooo deep, dropping his face into his palms, that you begin to laugh with your mouth still full of cock. He carefully takes himself out again, flings you over his shoulder and carries you back to the bedroom like that, where his phone’s not done ringing. 
“Onii-san!” It’s Yuuji again. You’ve been dropped on the bed. Since the bedsheet is already ruined, you wipe your face clean with it, your hands still being tied. “Oni-san, I got it! Supernova done!”
“Good work, Yuuji! I knew you could do it!” Choso musters up all his love for his younger brother, not letting a single trace of annoyance pass into his voice. The genuine love and care Choso has for loved-ones, it warms your heart.
“Y/n-san, can you hear me too?”
Choso looks over at you before realising that your voice would probably betray a hint of being roughly throat-fucked. “Aah, she’s in the washroom, I’ll tell her when she comes back, okay? You keep practising though!”
“Oh, okay. I’ll just tell her myself at 6 then.”
“All right. I was thinking, little brother, Supernova’s a difficult move, I’ll get you dinner today as a gift. Yeah?” 
“Oh yeah!! You're a great big brother.” You can see Choso’s heart melt. “Bye-byee!”
“Bye!” Click.
“Should we take him out to Ono Jiro? He’d like the experience.” you think out loud. Choso suddenly realises that he forgot about the Crimson Binding, freeing you with a sheepish apology. 
“I’m so proud of him, you know.” says Choso, burying his face into your tits as you both laze on the bed. “Even though he keeps preventing us from giving him any nephews or nieces.”
You both laugh. “We’ve got nothing to do all day and it's still just morning. We’ve just got to keep at it”. You pet his hair poking out from between your tits. Choso’s starting to suck a hickey into the thin skin of your sternum, and edging a hand to grab your left boob. His other hand’s already massaging the fat of your ass. 
“We’ll keep at it, then” Choso grins.
Bonus: Choso looks up books and videos about 'how to teach' so that he can help Yuuji learn <3
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img credits: here. it's not the artist (i think) but i couldn't find any further sources. If anyone does know the artist, please let me know.
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bruhnze · 2 months ago
Note
Yo solo digo que deberías hacer una historia basada en esta canción.
Or what we know in the world of fanfiction as a song-fic. Sorry, I have intrusive thoughts sometimes
LUCY BRONZE X ONA BATLLE
FIC IS IN ENGLISH. Only a spanish title i promise :)
(For @nani1803 (sé que la historia ya no tiene mucho q ver con la canción, pero espero q te guste de todas formas. De todas maneras, hay mucha suciedad en ello😏)
And to the anons who sended requests like this one, I hope this made you happy aswell :)
Warnings: sub!Lucy, smut, smut, smut, dom!Ona, I feel like I should say a BDSM warning.. things get…freaky. use of words like slut/toy/etc.. 50% AU (only bcs Ona is no footballer). Also, there is some Spanish in this, for continuity purposes it is not translated but I have made sure everything can be understood from context (i think). The smut may or may not have some spelling/grammatic errors. :( sorry.
Vino tinto y una súper Nova
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Wordcount: 13k, i really cant keep it short damn, this was supposed to be 5k max.
Summary: Lucy Bronze gets an invitation to a special speakeasy. Should she go? It is her last chance to use the invitation because she is leaving Barcelona in a couple days…
One last time MINORS for the love of god, DNI.
This is the filthiest thing i have ever writting omg. Very descriptive, i repeat.. very descriptive, probably best to read at an unholy hour..
Vino tinto y una súper Nova
Lucy stared at the little black card in her hand for what felt like the thousandth time since she had received it three months ago, her mind racing. She would never, right? The thought echoed in her head as she traced the dark red letters on the card with her finger. Elixír Oculto.
The name alone had an intoxicating allure, a whisper of something forbidden. A speakeasy in the heart of Barcelona... how could she resist? The idea was undeniably cool, almost too tempting to let the opportunity go to waste.
When she had done some digging online, the secrecy surrounding the place had only heightened her curiosity. There wasn't much information, but the description she'd found told her everything she needed to know and more.
"Indulge in an intimate atmosphere where connections flourish, and desires are whispered between sips of the finest vintage. At Elixír Oculto, we offer an exclusive, invite-only experience where boundaries blur, and the night unfolds in ways only your imagination can envision. Here, every encounter is as unforgettable as the last, curated for those who seek more than just the ordinary. Discretion is our promise, and a magical experience is our guarantee."
Lucy frowned, her heart beating a little faster. She wasn't really considering this... was she? A sex club? But then again... these were her last days in Barcelona. Maybe this could be her little farewell gift to herself, a night of adventure. It had been too long since she'd done anything like that. But could she really go through with it? Was she truly going to sleep with someone who might be paid for it? Shouldn't she just pick up someone at a bar instead? But then again, who knew if the people there were paid or not?
Maybe, just maybe, everyone with an invite was just like her - someone just looking for a bit of fun, a brief escape. She could meet someone on the same wavelength, someone who wanted what she wanted: a night of no-strings-attached pleasure.
She sighed, running a hand through her hair. She had played all her games, packed all her bags... didn't she deserve a little adventure? Five more days in Barcelona, one more night to herself. What was the harm in just taking a peek inside this speakeasy? If it turned out to be nothing, she could simply turn around and leave, laughing about it later.
But what if it wasn't? What if it was everything the card hinted at and more? Lucy glanced at the card again, feeling the pull of the unknown. Maybe... just maybe... this was exactly what she needed.
Lucy stepped into the shower, letting the hot water trail over her, washing away the tension of the day.
She took her time, scrubbing herself thoroughly, feeling grateful once again for the laser hair removal she’d undergone. Smooth skin was a necessity in her line of work for her, where shared dressing rooms were the norm. But it also came in handy for those unexpected moments of.. fun, the ones she hadn't had in far too long.
By the time she finished, it was around 7:00 PM. She sat naked on her bed, her damp hair wrapped in a towel, scrolling through her phone absently. Cooking? Or ordering in and going out? The question lingered as her eyes drifted back to the little black card lying on the nightstand. Ordering in and going out to where, exactly? Was she really going to that club? She asked herself.
She shook her head, making a quick decision. Sushi. Might as well savor some of Spain’s delicious fish before she left. After placing the order, Lucy stood in front of her nearly empty closet, groaning in frustration. Everything's packed... Was she really about to dig into her suitcase for something to wear? All this for a night at a sex club? Pathetic, she thought, but with a sigh, she unzipped the suitcase dedicated to her formal wear anyways.
She went through the neatly folded clothes, searching for the least wrinkled option. Finally, she settled on a brown suit. Not her first choice, but it would do.
At least she hadn't packed her jewelry and didn’t have to dig for that. Small victories.
Glasses or lenses? She hesitated, then opted for glasses. If there was ever a time to pull a "Clark Kent," this was it. With any luck, no one would recognize her there.
Loose hair, she decided. It was different from her usual look, but she slipped two hair ties onto her wrist just in case - always good to be prepared.
Back in the bathroom, she leaned into the mirror, the only one left in her apartment. She couldn’t check her entire outfit, but at least she could perfect her makeup. A touch of light foundation, a sweep of mascara, a hint of blush, she kept it simple.
She smiled at her reflection, feeling a flicker of confidence. You’re Lucy Bronze. She reminded herself, taking a deep breath. You can do whatever you want. You’re going to this club because you deserve it, and because you want it.
She practiced a wink, her attempt at charm feeling a bit rusty. Why was this so hard? she groaned, shaking her head with a small, self-deprecating laugh. She really needed to do things like this more often.
With a splash of her favorite perfume, she sealed the deal. The scent was subtle but intoxicating, just enough to boost her confidence.
She walked into the kitchen, turning on some music to give herself a little pep talk in the form of a dance, well, something resembling a dance at least, but no one could see her here anyways. She needed to get in the mood, shake off some nerves.
No alcohol, she reminded herself. She was still a professional athlete, after all. Even though a drink might ease her anxiety, she wasn’t about to compromise her principles just because she was nervous. She was still in season, and there was no room for slacking off.
Lucy exhaled slowly, pulling herself together. No liquid courage needed. She could do this on her own. She wasn’t going to waste this invitation - she was going to embrace it. And if she was honest with herself, she knew she wanted this.
Lucy took a deep breath, standing inside of what looked like just another ordinary bar. This should be it, right? she thought, glancing around. It didn't look like anything special, but then again, that was the point of a speakeasy.
Her fingers brushed over the little black card in her pocket, the red letters Elixír Oculto barely visible in the dim light. Oh, right... the 'vino tinto' thing, she remembered. The guy inviting her had mentioned something about asking for the red wine specialties. Maybe that was the theme of the club?
Lost in thought, she nearly jumped when a voice interrupted her. "Señorita?"
She looked up quickly, a friendly smile on her face. "Oh, sorry, I was just... uhm..."
The bartender chuckled, recognizing the uncertainty in her expression. "Ah, inglés," he said with a warm smile. "Welcome to our bar. What can I get you tonight, beautiful?"
Lucy felt a light blush creep up her cheeks. Damn, why am I so easy? she thought, flustered. "Uhm..." She hesitated, then held up the card. "Red wine?"
The bartender's smile widened as if he had been expecting this. "I thought so," he said with a knowing nod. He gestured for her to follow him. "Come, I'll show you the wines we have in stock."
They walked through a door behind the bar, descending into a dimly lit wine cellar. The air was cool, the scent of aged wood and fermented grapes heavy around them. The bartender reached for the only bottle on the shelf that wasn’t covered in dust, pulling it gently. The sound of a mechanism clicked, and a hidden doorway swung open. He stepped aside with a polite bow. "I wish you a very good evening, ma’am."
Before Lucy could respond, he was gone, leaving her standing at the threshold of the hidden hallway. This is so freaking cool, she thought, her excitement growing. It was just like in a movie. She walked down the narrow corridor, the exposed brick walls adding to the clandestine vibe, until she emerged into a lavish, red-lit space.
The atmosphere was intoxicating. To her left, a sleek bar was manned by two bartenders who moved skillfully, mixing and pouring drinks with effortless grace. Directly in front of her was a stage where men and women danced sensually, their movements captivating.
Plush chairs were arranged around the stage, some already occupied by persons who watched the performance with rapt attention.
"Puedo ayudarla, señora?" A mans voice spoke softly next to her.
Lucy jumped, startled out of her thoughts. "Uh, I was invited," she said with a nervous chuckle, turning to face the man who had approached her. "First time." She offered.
"Ah, inglés," the man said, echoing the bartender from earlier with a friendly smile. Lucy couldn’t help but laugh at the coincidence of them reacting exactly the same.
"I asked if I could help you," he clarified. "But I see, you’re new here, so of course, I’ll assist you."
Lucy nodded, feeling a bit more at ease.
"First, we need to stop by the hall over here," he said, gesturing to the right as he began walking. Lucy followed closely. "You don't have a coat, but if you'd like, you can leave your jacket here. If not, that's fine too." He pointed to a row of small black lockers built into the wall. "Devices go in here."
Wow, this is serious, Lucy thought, realizing just how secretive the place was. "Okay," she agreed, slipping off her small bag. She started to take out her phone but was gently interrupted.
"No bags allowed either," the man said kindly. "You can place it in the locker and take the key with you."
"Alright," she replied, securing her belongings. The man shut the locker for her and handed her the key.
"Perfect. Now, you’re free to enjoy a drink at the bar. Did you see where it was, or would you like me to show you?"
"I’ll go by myself, thank you," Lucy smiled, feeling a bit more confident as she took the key.
"If you need anything, just ask someone with this," he said, pointing to a wine-red handkerchief peeking out from his breast pocket. "Enjoy your time at Elixír Oculto, beautiful." With a final smile, he walked away.
Lucy blinked, a bit taken aback. Did they call everyone beautiful here, is that just part of the charm? she wondered as she made her way to the bar.
"Uh, could I get a whiskey glass with ice... but with iced tea instead?" she asked awkwardly, feeling a little out of place. "No alcohol," she added quickly, clarifying her request.
The bartender raised an eyebrow but complied without question. Lucy felt a bit of regret - she should’ve grabbed some cash from her bag. How was she going to pay for this? They’d probably let her settle the bill with card when she left.
She thanked the bartender with a smile and took a sip. Yep, iced tea.
"Hello," a soft voice said from behind her, accompanied by a gentle touch on the small of her back.
Lucy stiffened, her heart racing. Is it starting already? She carefully lowered the glass from her lips, afraid of choking, and turned to look.
The woman beside her wore a sharp suit, a wine-red handkerchief in her pocket just like the man from earlier. Ah, she worked here.
"Hi," Lucy replied, realizing she’d been silent for too long. Wait, did she just speak English?
The woman smiled warmly. "The gentleman from earlier mentioned you were English," she explained.
Wait, had she said that out loud? Lucy wondered. Or was her face really that readable?
"It’s normal to feel a bit nervous your first time here," the woman continued, her tone reassuring. "But I want to make sure you’re comfortable."
Lucy nodded, trying to steady her breathing. "T-thanks."
"We’re all about creating magical evenings here," the woman said, her voice soothing. "If I may take the liberty to make an assumption, I’d like to suggest our other room."
Lucy tilted her head, not quite understanding. Another room? Sure, why not? But what was this other room?
"This room is for women who like men," the woman explained, gesturing toward the stage, "and men who like women." She looked at Lucy with kind eyes, no judgment in her gaze. "But we also have a room where women dance for women only."
Lucy swallowed hard, her breath hitching slightly.
"If my assumption is -"
"No, no," Lucy cut in, offering a reassuring smile. "You’re correct. That would be more up my street."
"Perfect." The woman smiled, her eyes twinkling. "You can follow me."
Lucy quickly got on her feet, leaving the red bar chair behind.
The woman led her through another corridor, these walls were also lined with exposed brick. As they reached a pair of dark red curtains, the woman held them open and Lucy was greeted with an even more enchanting room than before.
Or maybe it was just the fact that this room was for women only that made it feel so captivating. The space exuded a warm, inviting glow, with plush furnishings and soft, ambient lighting that made everything look almost dreamlike.
Lucy took in the scene with wide eyes, her earlier nerves beginning to ease as curiosity and excitement took over.
The room was mesmerizing, with a stage prominently set in the middle. As she looked around, she noticed four women on the stage. They weren’t exactly dancing like what was happening in the other room; two were just sitting and drinking something, but the two that caught Lucy’s eye were engaged in a more intimate display. Lucy felt a flush rise to her cheeks. She absently fidgeted with her collar, loosening it to help her breathe a bit easier.
“Señora?” The woman who had guided her in gently touched her arm.
Lucy turned back, her face warm. “Oh, sorry. I’m just feeling a bit hot,” she said, demonstratively removing her jacket.
The woman smiled understandingly. “I was just saying, if anything here makes you uncomfortable, don’t hesitate to let them know.”
Lucy blinked, a little taken aback. She couldn’t imagine those beautiful women being a bother at all. “Oh, thanks. I’ll keep that in mind,” she replied awkwardly.
“Choose a seat,” the woman continued with a friendly smile. “And if you finish that iced tea, just let me know, and I’ll get you something - anything you like.”
Lucy felt a flush of embarrassment. Did she know it was iced tea? She chuckled nervously. “O-okay, thanks.”
The woman laughed softly. “We rarely serve alcohol here. We do have it for those who want it, but we often welcome athletes or models who don’t drink, but even otherwise, we don’t judge.” She reassured Lucy with a warm smile.
“Oh, great, I’m an athlete. Thanks,” Lucy said, her cheeks still tinged with color, assuring the woman she wasn’t just someone with an alcohol problem or something.
The woman’s eyes twinkled with curiosity. “I’d love to know more, but I’m not allowed to ask,” she said, holding up her hands playfully. “Have a great evening, beautiful.” She gave Lucy a wink before walking away.
Lucy watched her go, a hint of self-consciousness creeping in. Damn, I should’ve just owned the iced tea. I’m a professional athlete, damn it, why did I let myself feel so awkward? She sighed, feeling a bit unsettled.
The girls had now spotted her, all four pairs of eyes were trained on her. Lucy made her way to one of the chairs, forcing a smile as she went to take a seat, deliberately choosing a spot not too close to the platform. She draped her jacket over the backrest and surveyed the room.
The platform was only slightly raised, just below knee height, with a lower step running around its edge. In the center stood a plush red sofa and four poles were evenly spaced around it.
The room had a inviting, but over all very red, ambiance. Around the platform were chairs similar to the one Lucy was sitting in. Behind her was a wall lined with booths - small tables surrounded by benches. The lighting was soft and atmospheric, with a brighter spotlight focused on the center of the room, were the platform was.
As she glanced back at the platform, she noticed two of the women had begun dancing on the poles, those who had been touching each other earlier. Lucy’s attention was drawn to another set of curtains behind the platform. That was not the hallway she had came from right? She shifted her gaze, only to cringe slightly when she met the eyes of the woman who had guided her in. Damn, why is this so awkward? she thought.
The woman gave a reassuring nod, and Lucy forced a smile in return before turning her attention back to the platform.
A moment later, a woman approached her. “Eres tan hermosa, primera vez aquí, no te reconozco,” she said, her voice soft and inviting.
“Uh, l-lo siento, soy i-inglés,” Lucy replied, feeling flustered. “I mean, I can understand, pero no hablar muy bien. But yes, first time.”
The woman smiled warmly. “You’re pretty,” she said as she moved behind Lucy, her fingers lightly tracing along Lucy’s arm before resting gently on her shoulders. She leaned in, whispering against Lucy’s ear, which made her shiver. “Would you like a little show?”
Lucy nodded, her eyes drawn to the girl still lounging on the red sofa. She found her to be the most captivating of the four, though all were undeniably beautiful.
“Yeah, that would be -”
“Perfect,” the woman interrupted with a mischievous smile. “We’ve been dying for some audience.”
Lucy’s attention was drawn to the girl lounging on the red sofa. As if she sensed Lucy's gaze, the girl stretched languidly, her movements effortlessly graceful. The dim lighting bathed her figure in a soft glow, accentuating her features and adding a sensual allure to the scene. She was really pretty.
Meanwhile, the girl who had approached Lucy earlier had selected a new track - something with a more seductive rhythm than the background music that had been playing before. Lucy’s eyes darted between this change in atmosphere and the girl now rising from the sofa with a confident, almost mischievous smile.
The dancer approached the pole closest to Lucy with deliberate, measured steps. While the other three women continued their synchronized dance around their poles, Lucy found herself completely captivated by the girl who had drawn her in from the start.
With an almost hypnotic grace, the girl returned to the sofa, her body swaying to the rhythm in a way that was captivating, truly. She traced her fingers along the plush red fabric, creating a tantalizing scene. The background music seemed to fade away for Lucy, leaving her entire focus fixed on the dark blond-haired dancer.
The girl’s performance was a seamless blend of elegance and sensuality. Her movements were fluid and confident, a blend of seductive dance and playful tease.
Occasionally, her gaze met Lucy’s, each glance filled with a promise that was both alluring and mysterious.
The dancer’s use of the poles were masterful, their bodies contorting in ways that was mesmerizing and purely art, if Lucy could give her opinion about it.
All four of them could dance, but as Lucy tried to focus on it all she couldn’t help herself staring at the brown eyed girl.
The performance was captivating, drawing Lucy deeper into the fantasy of the evening.
As the show progressed, the girl’s movements grew more passionate and intense. Lucy watched, entranced, as the boundaries between reality and fantasy seemed to dissolve, the room around her fading into insignificance. It felt like she had walked right in to a Hollywood filmset.
When the performance reached its climax, the girl struck a final pose. Instinctively, Lucy placed her glass on the table beside her and clapped, genuinely impressed.
Wow, she thought. Just for this private show, it was worth it. Damn, these girls are fucking amazing. She found herself wondering if it was okay to think of them in an objectifying way. Regardless, she couldn’t deny the sheer amazement of the experience.
The girls gathered together, their giggles filling the room. “Thank you, thank you,” they chimed with an adorable accent, clearly pleased with her applause. They made a playful bow.
Lucy’s gaze fell on the shorter girl again, who was now smiling directly at her. As the four of them stood together, it was evident that she was the shortest. She smiled at Lucy, then turned to her companions, and they began to speak rapidly in Spanish. Lucy tried to follow their conversation.
“Está claro que le gusta Ona,” one of them said.
“No podemos ir todos juntos?” another replied.
“María!”
“Bueno, pfft, Ona te la llevas.”
Lucy caught a few words and felt a thrill of excitement. Were they discussing her? Did she understand correctly - they were deciding who would be with her? The thought made her feel giddy. She really hoped the shorter girl was called Ona.
Jeez, she thought. Was she really thinking about this like that?
To her surprise, it was indeed the shorter girl who approached her. Lucy straightened in her chair, her curiosity piqued.
"Hola, hermosa," the girl said confidently, her voice carrying a hint of playful seduction. "Can I take a seat?"
Lucy glanced around, momentarily flustered. Her heart raced as she processed the unexpected request. Her initial thought was, In my lap? Really? It felt like something out of a fantasy or a cliché.
Unsure of how to accept with words, she simply nodded, her cheeks warming slightly.
With elegant movement, Ona settled into Lucy's lap. As she adjusted Lucy's collar, straightening it, she said, "The other girls think you’re interested in me."
Lucy’s heart raced. So, this was Ona.
"Is that true?" Ona whispered, her breath warm against Lucy's ear. "Would you like to come with me?"
Lucy glanced back at the platform. The other dancers had returned to the sofa, lost in their own interactions. "Mhm, I think you’re a very good dancer," Lucy said, trying to keep her voice steady.
Ona’s eyes sparkled with satisfaction. "Follow me, preciosa." With a charming smile, she stood up and beckoned Lucy to follow her. Her tight braid swinging back and forth as she turned.
Lucy quickly grabbed her jacket and hurried after Ona, her excitement growing as she moved toward the curtain. Only at the curtain she realized she had left her glass behind.
Ah, fuck that iced tea, Lucy thought, amused with herself, as her gaze lingered on the woman’s miniskirt, which left little to the imagination. She couldn’t help but wonder what was hidden underneath. Bronze! she scolded herself internally. Get a grip - don’t be a creep.
“This is -” the woman began, but then paused, turning around.
Lucy quickly snapped her gaze back up to meet the woman’s eyes. Shit, caught.
The woman chuckled mischievously. “Like what you see?”
Lucy nodded, feeling like a teenager caught doing something naughty. God, why is everything going so terribly rough?
“This is my room,” the woman continued, starting over with a smile. “After you.”
Lucy stepped through the door as Ona held it open. “Thank you, Ona,” she said, taking in the spacious room. A bed with red sheets dominated the space, and a large, perfectly fitted closet lined one wall.
As she looked around, she realized Ona hadn’t followed her in. The woman was still standing in the doorway, her expression suddenly serious.
“How do you know my name?” Ona asked, her tone stern.
Lucy looked at her, confused. “Oh ehrm, the girls- they were-” she stammered, pointing back towards the main room.
“You heard?” Ona’s expression shifted to something more mischievous. “How much did you hear?”
Lucy’s eyes widened. “I don’t know, not much. They said Ona was going with me?” she offered hesitantly.
Ona smiled and finally stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. “Okay then, Ona it is. But I’d like to know your name too then.”
“Of course,” Lucy said, draping her jacket over her left arm. “Lucy.” She extended her hand.
Ona chuckled, taking Lucy’s hand and bringing it to her lips to place a soft kiss on her knuckles. “Very formal, huh? Nice to meet you, Miss Lucy.”
Lucy nodded, feeling a bit flustered. “Y-yeah, nice to meet you too.”
The room here had the same kind of music playing as the other room, only quieter.
“So… do you work here?” Lucy asked, breaking the silence, as Ona moved further into the room, which felt like a luxurious hotel suite. Probably not the best conversation starter, Lucy thought, biting her lip.
Ona’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Work?” She laughed softly. “No, baby, I do this because I love it.”
Lucy frowned. “So you don’t get paid?” she blurted out before she could stop herself.
“This is a private club for attractive people, by attractive people,” Ona explained matter-of-factly. “I understand you are someone who likes to know the details.” She chuckled. “When you get invited here, it’s by someone who’s been a member for a while and earned the privilege of handing out a card. It’s a pretty big deal to receive one,” she smiled. “Being a member is free; we call it ‘pretty privilege.’ But most members make donations. I also get a cut from those donations, and sometimes people make a specific donation just for me. When that happens, I get it all.” She sat down on a leather couch and leaned back, eyes locked on Lucy’s. “I’m under contract with this place,” she continued with a smile, “so what you said is probably true. But I prefer to see it as an arrangement that lets me live out my life’s passion.”
Lucy nodded, captivated by Ona’s every word. “What is it?” she asked, genuinely intrigued.
Ona grinned, a flicker of mischief in her eyes. "Well, it goes hand in hand with Elixír Oculto’s motto - helping people experience a magical evening. But my personal passion is making dreams come true, even the ones you never knew you had."
"Wow," Lucy murmured, letting the words sink in. Achieving every dream you have, even the ones you’ve never thought of before. It was poetic, inspirational.
“Don’t be afraid to take a seat, cariño,” Ona’s voice was soft but commanding, her smile so hypnotic that it made Lucy’s heart skip a beat. Those dimples, perfect teeth and scattered freckles. They could tell her this woman was send right from heaven and Lucy would believe them.
Lucy nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and settled into the leather chair half-facing Ona. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from her. God, this girl was stunning.
Ona’s grin widened, her amusement clear. “Afraid I bite? I mean, I won’t… not just yet.” Her chuckle was warm as she patted the spot beside her on the couch. “Come closer, hermosa.”
Swallowing, Lucy stood up, leaving her jacket draped over the chair. She moved to sit beside the Catalan, nerves dancing along her skin. She fidgeted, scratching at her wrist in an attempt to calm herself.
Ona noticed and gently took Lucy’s hand, her touch soft and reassuring. “Don’t be so nerviosa, beautiful,” she whispered, tracing the inked skin on Lucy’s wrist. “You’ll hurt your pretty tattoo.”
Lucy glanced down at their intertwined hands, then back up at Ona.
“Show it to me,” Ona said, nodding toward the tattoo.
Without hesitation, Lucy unbuttoned her sleeve and rolled it up, revealing the intricate design she was so proud of.
Ona’s fingers lightly traced the ink, her touch sending a shiver down Lucy’s spine. “English, with a tattoo that says família?” she teased, a playful lilt in her voice. “Estás segura de que no hablas español? Did you just say it so you could eavesdrop?” She chuckled, her eyes twinkling. “Or did you just have a bad tattoo artist?”
Lucy laughed softly, shaking her head. “No, I’m half Portuguese… but I don’t speak it that well either, to be honest.”
“Hmm,” Ona mused, her fingers still lingering on the tattoo. “Okay then, what brought you to Spain?”
Lucy smiled, a hint of nostalgia in her eyes. “I worked here, but now I’m heading back to England. It’s been amazing working in Barça, and I wanted to end my time here with something special. I was invited here by a photographer from work. He thought I’d enjoy this place. Guess I owe him a thank you.”
“Hmm, okay,” Ona said, catching the subtle compliment with a knowing smile. “So, you’re a model?”
Lucy chuckled, shaking her head. “Not really. I guess I am sometimes, but it comes with my real job - I’m an athlete.”
Ona’s interest piqued as she shifted, settling onto Lucy’s right thigh, her legs resting between Lucy’s. “Really, what sport?”
"Guess," Lucy replied with a playful smirk, finally enjoying a moment of being the one in control.
Ona’s finger traced lines on Lucy’s muscular upper chest, down to her shoulder and bicep. “Hmm, the muscles make me think something like.. rugby,” she contemplated. “But I’m not sure.”
Lucy chuckled. “It can feel like that sometimes, but no - it’s football. I played for Barça.”
Ona’s eyes widened slightly, a glimmer of amazement slipping through her composed exterior.
“And what was the shoot for? The one where you got the invitation?” Ona asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
“Underwear,” Lucy admitted, feeling a bit awkward as she wasn’t supposed to reveal it yet.
“Hmm,” Ona grinned, her finger now tracing the buttons on Lucy’s blouse. “Now I’m curious what the photographer saw when he gave you that card.”
Lucy’s breath hitched as Ona began undoing the buttons. “Is this okay, bonita? Can I?”
Lucy nodded eagerly, her thoughts screaming for Ona to take it all off, right then and there.
Ona smirked as she revealed Lucy’s rock-solid abs. “Was it a Calvin Klein shoot?” she asked, eyeing the matching bra and the sliver of fabric peeking out from above Lucy’s pants.
“Uhm,” Lucy grimaced. “I signed a confidentiality agreement… I’m not supposed to -”
“My lips are sealed,” Ona assured, miming locking her mouth and tossing away the key. “But I will enjoy the photos if I ever come across them.” She winked cheekily and continued tracing her fingers over Lucy’s exposed skin, the touch light and teasing.
Lucy’s breath hitched again as Ona’s hands slipped beneath her blouse, sliding it off her shoulders with that same practiced ease. Quickly, Lucy undid the last button on her sleeve, leaning forward to help Ona remove the blouse completely.
Ona chuckled softly at Lucy’s eagerness, enjoying the way Lucy seemed to hang on every moment. As their faces drew closer, Lucy’s gaze locked onto Ona’s lips, her desire surging as she leaned in for a kiss. But just as their lips brushed, Ona pulled back with a playful chuckle.
"I can tell you’re used to being the one in control," Ona teased, her eyes gleaming with amusement.
Lucy blushed, the rejection making her feel suddenly shy again.
"But it doesn’t work like that here," Ona continued with a grin. "Well, it can, but that privilege has to be earned."
Lucy nodded, feeling a bit uncertain.
Ona smiled warmly, placing Lucy’s hand on her knee. "Oh, come on baby, don’t worry. You didn’t do anything wrong - it’s just one of the rules," she explained, her thumb brushing across Lucy’s bottom lip. "You can kiss me anywhere except on my mouth," she added, cupping Lucy’s cheek. "I’ll teach you all the rules along the way, hm?"
Swallowing, Lucy nodded again, her nerves settling slightly.
Ona chuckled softly. "You haven’t bitten your tongue, have you?"
Lucy shook her head. "No, I understand."
A knowing smile curved Ona’s lips. "You’re so eager to please, aren’t you?"
Lucy’s cheeks flushed.
“Kiss my neck querida.”
Lucy hesitated for a moment, glancing at Ona, who was comfortably seated on her lap, her neck now tilted to one side, invitingly exposed.
Leaning in, Lucy let her lips brush softly against the warm skin, savoring its softness and the intoxicating scent. God, her skin was so soft, and damn, did she smell good.
Encouraged by Ona’s subtle cues, Lucy began to place delicate kisses along her neck, listening intently for any sign of pleasure she was bringing. When Ona tilted her head back, giving her more space, Lucy grew bolder. She added a teasing flick of her tongue, a gentle scrape of her teeth, her breath warm against the damp trail she left behind.
Ona chuckled as she felt Lucy getting lost in the moment.
Lucy pulled back slightly, curious about the reason of Ona’s amusement.
"I can already tell this will be a great night," Ona murmured, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "You’re doing very well so far."
A wave of confidence washed over Lucy at the compliment, and she smiled, feeling more at ease. Ona stood up, and Lucy’s eyes trailed her every move, captivated by her grace. God, she was stunning. Clad in leather boots with a heel, a miniskirt, and a little top. Ona didn’t wear much already, but Lucy couldn’t help but imagine her wearing even less.
Ona moved to one of the closet doors, her back to Lucy as she opened it. Lucy couldn’t see what was inside, but her heart raced when Ona returned holding a leather rod with a small feather at the end, bundled with little strings of leather. Was she going to get hit?
But instead of using the rod, Ona casually walked to the kitchenette and opened the mini-fridge. She retrieved a bottle of water and poured two glasses, adding a few ice cubes to each. Returning to Lucy, she placed the rod on the coffee table and handed her one of the glasses.
“Water,” she said simply, taking a sip from her own glass.
Lucy awkwardly accepted the glass and took a sip, trying to calm her nerves.
“How can we get you relaxed, amor?” Ona asked, settling herself onto one of Lucy’s legs again. “You’re so tense.” Her fingers traced lazy patterns on Lucy’s skin. “What’s making you so nervous?” She leaned in, her lips brushing softly against Lucy’s jaw. “Is it because you’re letting go of control for once?” Her voice dropped to a whisper, “It can be amazing, hermosa,” she assured, placing another kiss just below Lucy’s ear. “I know you can be so good for me, hm? Just let me take control.”
Lucy swallowed hard and nodded, “Y-yeah,  i-it's just... new.”
Ona pulled back slightly, studying Lucy’s face. “New? Completely new? You’ve never…?”
Lucy chuckled, her nerves easing just a bit. “Oh no, I don’t mean that… I mean having sex with someone in a setting like this.”
“Sex?” Ona’s voice was serious, her tone unreadable.
Lucy’s heart plummeted. Had she completely misread the situation? But just as panic set in, Ona’s lips curved into a mischievous grin.
“I’m jokingggg,” she giggled, leaning against Lucy. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” She cupped Lucy’s face gently. “You should’ve seen your face.”
Lucy exhaled shakily, trying to regain her composure.
Ona took the glass from her and set it beside her own on the coffee table. Then, she shifted her position, straddling both of Lucy’s legs, her knees planted firmly on either side. She pushed Lucy’s hair behind her ears “Sorry I teased you, sometimes I can’t control myself.”
She smiled as Lucy stayed silent, “You’re okay, Lucy. Don’t beat yourself up. It’s good that you said this is your first time. We can talk everything through as we go.”
Lucy hesitated, then lifted her hands, which had been resting awkwardly at her sides. She was eager to touch Ona, but unsure of the boundaries. “Can I…?” she asked, her voice trailing off as she tried to figure out how to navigate this.
Ona’s eyes sparkled with amusement at Lucy’s sudden eagerness. “Yes, you can put your hands on me if you like,” she said, smiling. “Good job for asking first.”
Lucy’s smile widened, relieved that she’d finally done something right. No, she reminded herself, she’d done well with the kisses too - she shouldn’t be so insecure. Her heart pounded as she gently placed her hands on the warm, bare skin of Ona’s thighs, feeling the smoothness beneath her fingertips.
Ona subtly grinded on Lucy’s lap, tracing a finger from her chest to the tip of her chin, ‘’are you going to let me have some fun with you, let me play with you?’’.
Lucy hung on every word, every movement the beautiful woman made. There was no question in her mind - she would do anything Ona asked. She nodded eagerly, her wide eyes full of obedient anticipation as they locked onto Ona’s.
Ona’s thumb once again grazed Lucy’s bottom lip, letting it pop gently a couple of times. She smiled, her mind already dancing with thoughts of the fun to come. “Soy la maestra tonight, sí?”
Lucy nodded again, her thoughts a swirl of sí, por favor, and gracias, already unable to think straight.
“Claro?” Ona repeated, her voice firm yet playful. “Because if you understand, I want to hear you say it.”
“Y-yes, claramente,” Lucy stammered, throwing in a bit of Spanish out of sheer confusion.
Ona’s grin widened. “Ah, perfecto. But next time, I want to hear, ‘Sí, maestra,’ okay?”
“Sí, maestra,” Lucy echoed, her voice certain this time.
"Good girl," Ona purred, a hint of mischief in her eyes. "Let’s see if you can keep that up." and stood up, taking the rod with her ‘’follow me’’.
Lucy followed her closely, Ona took place on the bed.
‘’On you knees hermosa’’. She ordered, leaving space between her legs.
Lucy swallowed, her heart racing, so this was it, it was happening. She knelt down, her hair falling infront of her face like a curtain, quickly she put her hair up.
She looked up, meeting Ona’s smile, ‘’well prepared’’ she said pleased.
Ona put her foot up and pushed Lucy’s shoulder with it, ‘’take these off’’.
“Sí, maestra,” Lucy said, her gaze already have drifted off to Ona’s legs, with her leg up like this a glimpse of dark red, laced underwear was revealed.
‘’Querida’’ Ona said sternly, ‘’you are not getting distracted, are you?’’.
“N-no,” Lucy licked her lips unconsciously, but pulled herself together, biting her lip ‘’uhm, no, maestra,”.
Ona pushed the sole of her leather boot a little deeper into the skin of Lucy’s shoulder.
Lucy got the hint and pulled the zipper down to take her left boot off, then she reached for the other.
After that she eagerly waited on the next command.
 Ona spread her legs further.
Lucy didn't have a second thought about the fact that she was staring now, she was just admiring the view provided.
Ona noticed her looking, her smile turned into a grin, ‘’you are looking at me with hungry eyes’’ she chuckled.
Lucy briefly looked up, wondering whether that was something positive in Ona’s opinion.
‘’Well’’ Ona said, standing up ‘’do you want a taste?’’.
Lucy scooted back slightly, giving herself some space as her face was almost pressed against Ona, who had just stood up. “Sí, maestra,” she nodded eagerly, “please.”
“So well behaved,” Ona said, tipping Lucy’s chin up with her finger. “It’s almost boring. Are you a little boring, Lucia?” she teased, “But I don’t believe you’re all that innocent. Are you?”
“No, maestra.”
“Tell me what you want.”
Lucy blushed, she could think of a lot of things. ‘’u-uhm.. a.. taste then?’’.
Ona chuckled, ‘’oh my sweet puppet’’ she brushed her fingers through Lucy’s hair, ‘’how could I deny when you are being such a pretty obedient toy for me’’.
She swallowed, ‘’can I?’’ Lucy asked as she reached up to hook her fingers in the band of Ona’s skirt.
‘’Sí.’’
Lucy took the skirt and thongs off all at once, maybe by accident, maybe not. But she was just going to rock with it.
Now she was face-to-face, no scratch that, face-to-lips, with Ona’s heath. She looked up, ‘’can I maestra?’’.
Ona melted, she hadn’t expected the woman who carried herself so.. confident.. to be such an easy submissive.. but if she was honest she missed a bit of resist. ‘’No.’’
Lucy backed up, confused. No? Why not. ‘’w-why.. maestra?’’.
A soft chuckle escaped Ona’s lips. “Because, preciosa, I want to be in my comfortable chair.” She reached for the leather rod again, her tone playful but commanding. “And you will follow me like the good pet you are.”
Lucy instinctively moved to stand, but the gentle press of the leather rod against her shoulder stopped her.
“Hands and knees, hermosa. Come.”
There was a brief hesitation - was she really going to do this? But the light, insistent tap of the rod on her skin urged her forward. Lucy met Ona’s gaze, then slowly bent down, beginning to crawl toward the couch.
A light thump landed on her still-covered ass, prompting her to glance back at Ona.
“Too slow,” Ona teased. “I thought you were an athlete.”
Lucy gave a slight nod, quickening her pace as she continued to crawl.
Ona easily overtook her, settling into the leather chair with a languid grace, her legs spread invitingly. “Come, cariño. Your reward is waiting.”
Finally, Lucy reached Ona, her heart pounding with anticipation. She had been waiting for this moment ever since she decided to step into the speakeasy. Now, seeing Ona up close, a girl even more captivating than she had imagined, the desire was almost too much to handle.
It felt strange to be in this position - usually, she was the one in control. But giving up control felt natural with the way Ona guided her. From the moment she had entered the room, she knew this was what she wanted, she’d do whatever the Catalan would ask.
‘’You see what mess you created?’’ Ona asked rhetorical, ‘’clean it up’’. She said pointing at Lucy with the whip she was still holding.
Lucy nodded and wanted to lean forward but was restricted by the rod poking against her collarbone.
‘’Manners hermosa’’. Ona said looking at Lucy with a grin, the girl was locked-in on her center like it was going to walk away if she blinked.
 Without looking up Lucy answered, ‘’sí, sorry maestra… please let me clean you up maestra’’.
‘’mhm, go on’’.
She leaned in, her focus on Ona’s thighs. Lucy knew she had talent and wanted to show Ona she wasn’t just another amateur, she wanted to be the best.
As she placed her hands on Ona’s inner thighs and moved closer to her wet core, she was met with a corrective tap, prompting her to pull her hands back.
On her hands and knees, Lucy lapped at Ona’s wetness, she groaned of pleasure as she tasted the girl. Damn, Ona didn’t just look incredible, she tasted amazing too - subtly sweet with a hint of something more. God, had she missed tasting a woman. But Lucy tried not to lose herself and alternated between kisses and teasing licks, deliberately avoiding Ona’s clit, waiting for her to guide her next move.
Ona considered her options. She wanted to savor the moment with this stunning woman but she also wanted to climax. She could come multiple times.. so.. she could play with the woman some more later right? After all, Lucy was an athlete - she likely had stamina for days.
Ona buried her hand in the brown hair of the kneeling woman, guiding her. "Show me what that pretty mouth of yours can do, belleza." Her voice remained steady and composed.
It didn’t take long for Ona’s resolve to waver. She couldn’t stifle her moan as Lucy’s skillful tongue worked its magic. Ona’s fingers dug deeper into the roots of Lucy’s hair, pulling just enough to keep her in place while still allowing some movement. Ona’s smile widened smugly as she felt Lucy’s moans vibrating against her core. Oh! this girl liked it a little rough.
Ona couldn’t deny it, this woman knew exactly how to use her mouth. She was enjoying this a lot, and if Lucy kept it up, she might even crack the top ten of women Ona had been with. The soft, eager whimpers coming from between her legs only fueled Ona’s arousal. The idea of a woman not just enjoying, but worshipping her body always got to her. God, Ona realized, she wouldn’t last much longer.
Lucy was lost in her own world between the strong thighs of the Catalan woman, oblivious to the moans she was drawing out as she brought Ona closer and closer to the edge. She only heard her own soft moans, and felt them echoing against the warm, wet skin. And fuck was she drunk on the taste of Ona’s arousal.
Lucy didn’t even notice the trembling legs squeezing her head until she was yanked back, forcing her to look up.
Ona grinned down at her, meeting the two dazed eyes staring back, looking at her with the most adoring eyes, like she was an actual goddess. It would’ve been almost adorable if not for the setting.
"That’s enough for now, my pretty mascota," Ona said, her voice playful but firm. "Come, help me up." She extended her hand.
Lucy rose to her feet and pulled Ona up with her.
The rod that had fallen beside the chair was forgotten for now - they were going to search out some new things anyways.
"Get undressed, my little muñeca follable," Ona whispered as she passed the slightly taller woman.
She made her way to the closet, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. This was one of her most prized possessions. Behind the doors, red velvet panels framed an array of black hooks and pins, displaying her collection of toys like weapons in a high-end gun shop.
As she opened the lengthy wooden doors, the little spotlights shot on and highlighted her collection of tools.
She turned around to the awkward but endearing sight of Lucy struggling to step out of her pants. Sensing Ona’s gaze, Lucy blushed, quickly discarding them and standing there in just her white boxers.
Mhmm, Ona's mouth watered at the sight. Lucy’s muscular, athletic build was a masterpiece, her tanned skin in contrast against the white fabric. The only thing she wore on her torso now was a simple gold chain, gleaming against her skin. In a different setting, Ona would have gladly let this piece of eye candy ruin her completely, or maybe, she'd allow that later.
Ona grinned as her eyes lingered on Lucy’s tight ass, the white briefs stretching across it as she bent briefly to place her glasses and rings on the coffee table. Hmm, that toned ass could only belong to someone well-familiar with working a strap. She blinked and chuckled, snapping herself out of her daydream. She couldn’t let herself get too distracted.
Lucy looked at the laughing woman and walked back toward her, eyes innocent and questioning.
Ona grinned. "You look so good-
Oh. Lucy blushed, caught off guard by the compliment, though pleased that Ona thought so. She knew her abs got plenty of attention from women, but it still felt good to hear it.
-I can’t wait to ruin you."
Lucy blinked, her steps faltering just before she reached Ona. The soft, promising tone in her voice sent a wave of heat through her body. Would she let her ruin her? No doubt about it. She’d let Ona ruin her and say thank you afterwards.
Ona chuckled. "Come on, don’t get shy again. You can choose a few things you'd like."
It was only then that Lucy’s gaze shifted to the two open doors or rather what had been hidden behind them. Her eyes widened at the sight of the array of sex toys on display. She’d never seen so many gathered in one place before, well, except for the couple of times she had visited an adult store.
Ona stepped back slightly, inviting Lucy to take a closer look.
Mesmerized, Lucy moved closer but hesitated as her hand reached out. She realized she probably shouldn’t touch everything.
Ona opened another door to reveal a selection of harnesses in various colors and materials: brown, black. Her gaze fell on a dark red one, her favorite. She took it and slipped it on, savoring the familiar feeling against her skin.
Turning back to Lucy, who stood there in awe, Ona couldn’t help but grin.
She positioned herself behind Lucy, standing on her tiptoes and pressing her harness-clad hips against the woman’s ass. She reached around and pointed at several straps, displayed from small to large. “Which one will I be wearing?” she whispered, brushing her lips against Lucy’s neck.
“Uhm…”
Ona gently bit down, a teasing nip. If she was right, this woman wasn’t shy about a bit of pleasurable pain. Her suspicions were confirmed when a soft, whiny gasp escaped Lucy’s throat. Mhm, this was going to be so much fun.
Ona reached around Lucy, cupping her perky breasts and teasing her already hardened nipples between her fingers.
Lucy’s vision blurred from the overwhelming sensations of Ona’s presence. Her hips pressed against her back, her teeth sinking into her neck and the way her nipples were being twisted. A moan escaped Lucy as electric shocks shot straight to her core. She tried to bring her hands up to cover Ona’s, keeping her close, but suddenly, everything was gone.
Blinking, Lucy saw Ona now standing beside her, gazing at the array of toys. “Choose, mi juguete. What will you let me play with?”
Lucy wanted to shout, Me! With me! but held her silence. Instead, she focused on the toys, deliberately considering her options. She wasn’t shy about receiving a strap, it was something she had enjoyed in relationships, though less so with casual encounters. But she certainly had nothing against it, especially this beauty, she could do what ever she wanted.
She reached out for a strap of a manageable size, glancing at Ona before touching it. Ona gave a smug smile, raising her eyebrows. “I’m guessing you have some experience?”
Lucy nodded, blushing as she recalled not only her experiences with other women but also her solo adventures. She handed the strap to Ona while keeping her gaze fixed on the endless lines of toys.
Her attention then shifted to a collection of butt plugs. Only recently had she started exploring these, and although she had never used them in front of someone else, the orgasms they provided were incredible.
"Ahh," Ona cheered, surprised by Lucy’s interest. "I wouldn’t have picked you as someone gustan las cosas por el culo." She let her hand brush over Lucy’s muscular ass before giving it a playful squeeze. "Well, choose one, hermosa."
Stepping closer, Ona reached for a decently sized plug with a bit of texture. "I recommend this one," she whispered.
Lucy shivered as goosebumps trailed down her spine. She took the plug silently, rolling it between her fingers, her body already reacting. God, she was so worked up. She was aching with desire, feeling a firm pulsation between her legs.
Ona surveyed the array of equipment for restraining and gagging, including her favorite, the gag ball. However, she had a feeling she’d enjoy the sounds Lucy would make even more. She put the strap on and took one of the whips from a pin, the whip was red with black. Matching perfectly with her. She was wearing a red harness with a black strap and she was still wearing her red top. Then she look a black vibrator, or her magic wand, how she liked to call it.
‘’satisfied?’’. Ona asked, she thought they could start easy as this was their first encounter after all, even though she found Lucy and her working together pretty good.
Lucy looked up, turning to Ona in surprise. Wtf? Satisfied, no she was not satisfied at all, she was dyeing-
‘’chose the toys you like?’’. Ona added, clarifying herself.
Ohhh. Lucy nodded, ‘’yes’’.
Ona chuckled mischievously, almost sadistic. ‘’Manners cariño, manners.’’ She shook her head sarcastically, ‘’oh oh,’’ she stepped closer, driving Lucy against the wooden door, ‘’it’s a shame I have to punish you now’’ she grinned as she saw Lucy swallow hard, but her eyes told Ona she didn’t mind this at all, ‘’you want to be punished?’’ she grinned.
Lucy blushed, remembering what she had to call Ona and anticipating on something that was definitely far from a punishment for her, ‘’S-Sí, maestra,’’
Ona chuckled, seeing the woman squirm against the wood, ‘’Beg me’’ she said, bringing her hand up to the woman’s neck, ‘’how bad do you want it?’’.
Lucy’s face flushed, her mouth suddenly dry, her lips still sticky from earlier. ‘’please maestra, p-punish me’’.
‘’Have you been bad?’’. Ona said, closing her hand around the thick neck.
‘’mhm’’ Lucy nodded, almost not being able to focus as Ona put a little pressure on her throat ‘’uh- yes.. maestra’’.
Ona grinned, ‘’desperate puta’’. She guided Lucy by her neck towards the bed, ‘’bend over, bend down on the bed like the puta sucia you are’’.
She released her grip.
Ona chuckled silently as Lucy almost face planted on the bed as she eagerly crawled on it.
She hovered behind her, letting her fingers graze over the ass that was sticking up in front of her. Sliding a finger under the elastic band of Lucy's boxers, she pulled it up before snapping it back against her skin. "And why is this still on?" she asked.
"You're not listening very well, are you? I told you to take it off," Ona said.
"Sí," Lucy mumbled as she got back up on her knees. "Sí, maestra, I-" She fumbled with the fabric, trying to shuffle it down her legs but struggling in the awkward position.
Ona pressed the whip against her shoulders. "Down. Leave it like that, if you're so desperate."
Her eyes were fixed on the impossibly slick lips of the woman bent down in front of her. She was a mess, the briefs she'd been wearing completely ruined.
Ona reached over Lucy, not bothering to keep the strap from pressing into her as she took the toy from her hands. Leaning over Lucy's back, Ona couldn’t help but admire the sculpted physique beneath her. This woman was clearly an athlete, but even among them, she was on the upper end of the scale. Broad, muscular shoulders and a body that was nothing short of stunning, it made perfect sense why the photographer had given her a card. She was captivating.
Letting her nails lightly graze down Lucy’s bare back, Ona whispered, “I think you deserve a little correction, don’t you?”
Lucy arched into the touch, her heated skin prickling in the cool air. “Mhm,” she murmured, biting down as Ona's hands kneaded her flesh. Every nerve in her body was on high alert, craving more of the touch she desperately needed.
Ona chuckled and leaned back, ‘’what was that hermosa?’’. She teasingly asked, letting the strands of leather travel along her back.
Lucy whimpered, ‘’si, maestra, I need-
Crack.
She arched as the whip landed firmly on her ass, she moaned into the bedsheets. Fuck.
Ona leaned down and kissed the spot that was now turning red, ‘’and what do you say now my toy? I gave you what you asked for’’. She said, amusement clear in her voice. She loved the way the woman seemed to enjoy this.
She bit down in the flesh of Lucy ass, as an answer stayed off, or maybe just because the skin looked so perfectly bitable, so tight, so round.
Lucy’s brain short-circuited. Was it.. thank you? Did Ona expect her to say thanks? ‘’Uh, t-thank you?’’ she said, a little unsure.
Crack.
‘’Thank you who, pretty?’’. Ona said, letting the leather strings of the whip tease over the sensitive prickling skin of Lucy’s ass after she landed another strike.
Lucy arched as she grabbed the sheet between her fists, whimpering from the impact. ‘’Thank you maestra!’’ she cried out.
‘’Very good beautiful.’’. She caressed Lucy’s ass, ‘’but you’re a bit of a messy girl, aren’t you?’’. Ona said as she changed the whip in her hand for the plug and swiped it along Lucy’s core. ‘’You are-’’ she chuckled as she saw Lucy’s body reacting to what she did, ‘’-a little wet muñeca, how come?’’.
Lucy breath shuttered as she felt the toy dipping between her lips, it was frustrating the way Ona teased her. ‘’You’’ Lucy groaned, ‘’Because of you maestra’’.
‘’Hmm.’’ Ona smirked, ‘’beautiful zorra, so eager, so wanting’’.
Lucy pussy tried to clutch on nothing but thin air at the dirty words Ona spoke. She stiffened as her cheeks were held and she felt Ona spit down on her asshole. God she felt dirty, but she enjoyed every bit of it.
A flat hand soothed her lower back, ‘’relax for me baby.’’ Ona cooed as she reached down to place soft kisses on Lucy’s cheeks. Lucy whimpered as Ona got lower and lower with her mouth, she wished the girl would eat her out, but Ona stayed away from her heath. Instead the plug was now circling her ring of muscle, teasingly waiting to enter.
With ease, Ona slid the toy inside, her smile widening as she watched a shiver run up Lucy’s spine. The girl let out a soft, almost grateful moan.
Stepping closer to the bed, Ona guided her strap through Lucy's wetness, teasing her mercilessly.
Lucy leaned back, desperate, aching for more, but Ona chuckled and stepped away. “Up. Come here,” she ordered, her voice firm.
It took Lucy a moment to process, her mind clouded with need, but she finally turned to look at Ona.
“Kneel for me, mi juguete,” Ona commanded, grinning as she watched Lucy’s dazed expression, her pupils blown wide. “You’ve made quite a mess.”
Lucy dropped to her knees in front of the Catalan without hesitation.
“Show me, princecita,” Ona murmured, cupping Lucy’s jaw. “Show me how pretty you look with your mouth full.”
Lucy swallowed hard - this was something new for her. She’d been on the other side plenty of times, the one wearing the strap, in control. But as Ona tapped the damp tip against her lips, she opened her mouth without hesitation.
Like a shameless slut, Lucy wrapped her lips around the plastic shaft, locking eyes with Ona as she did.
Ona could barely keep her composure. There was nothing quite like watching a strong, confident woman drop to her knees for her. She pulled back slightly, gripping the base of the strap as a string of saliva clung to it, then playfully tapped it against Lucy's cheek. Smiling wickedly, she murmured, "Imagine if people saw you like this, hm, the Lucy Bronze on her knees."
Lucy whimpered, all traces of shame long gone. She craved this, she needed it desperately. Her tongue flicked out, and she eagerly took it back into her mouth, determined to please Ona.
Lucy locked eyes with Ona as she took in as much of the length as she could.
Ona gently wiped away a tear that slipped down Lucy’s cheek. "Hmm, you've been so good," she murmured, stroking her jaw tenderly. "Now, stand up for me."
‘’Si maestra’’. Lucy stood up, watching intensively waiting for any other instructions. Hm, she wish she could take that top off of Ona.
She didn’t realize she was staring until Ona’s soft chuckle broke the silence. “You’re actually adorable,” Ona said with a smile, momentarily unable to hide her amusement. “What’s on your mind? Do you want to take my top off?”
Lucy blushed and looked up shyly. “Mhm, yes, you’re so pretty,” she replied softly.
Ona chuckled and drew Lucy closer by her hand. “Then take it off, bebé.”
With a smile and a racing heart, Lucy lifted her hands to remove Ona’s top. Ona raised her arms, and within moments, she was standing naked before Lucy, who also took the opportunity to finally kick off the briefs that had been dangling around her knees.
In awe, Lucy let her hands explore Ona’s bare torso, beginning at her sides and gradually moving up to her chest. She gazed at Ona with a mixture of anticipation and admiration.
Ona, rolling her eyes with a playful smile, asked, “What is it you want to say?”
Lucy hesitated, her eyes drifting to her hands. “U-uhm, can I?” she stammered.
“What is it, baby?” Ona tilted her chin up, encouraging her. “Tell me what you want.”
“Kiss them,” Lucy replied, her voice almost dreamy.
“Of course, pequeña,” Ona replied with a chuckle, charmed by Lucy’s timidity. Most athletes were quite full of themselves and self-absorbed, but this girl only seemed to have eyes for her. From the moment their gazes had locked at the beginning of this evening, she had been the sole focus of Lucy’s attention. It was cute.
Lucy surprised her by leaning down, starting with soft kisses at her belly button, and slowly working her way up. Between each kiss, their eyes met, intensifying the moment.
Ona’s chest rose and fell as Lucy moved closer to her nipples. Damn, this woman knew exactly how to affect her. A groan escaped as Ona’s head fell back, surrendering to Lucy’s touch.
Ona snapped back to reality as Lucy guided her toward the bed, trailing kisses along her neck until the back of her knees hit the edge of the mattress.
Ona slid her hand into Lucy’s hair, gently pulling her away as she tutted softly and talked in a stern voice. "Not good, hermosa, not good." Stepping to the side, she added, "You’re too distracting. Get on the bed, bend over."
Ona chuckled, her voice teasing. "Trying to take the lead, hm?" she asked, reaching for the whip. "Oh, so you wanted more punishment?" she added sarcastically, as Lucy whimpered when the leather met her skin again.
"That's fine," Ona murmured, her breath warm as she grazed her teeth along Lucy’s neck. "Next time, just ask, mi juguete. I love playing with you." She let her lips trail down Lucy’s spine before standing up straight again.
Crack.
Lucy moaned into the mattress, her ass more sensitive than before after each hit. She braced herself for more, but the expected impact didn’t come. Instead, she felt Ona press up against her.
Ona reached for the vibrator and, with her arm around Lucy, gently slid it across her wetness until she felt Lucy start to buck her hips. She grinned as she turned on the device, keeping it at its lowest setting.
At the same time, she aligned herself with Lucy’s entrance, having slid the strap through her slick a few times to ensure it was well-lubricated. It was definitely wet enough, she had to make an effort to maintain control and prevent slipping inside just yet.
If the wetness pooling between Lucy’s legs didn’t make her arousal clear enough, her soft, breathy groans into the bedsheet left no doubt that she was ready.
Lucy moaned as Ona entered her in one fluent thrust, completely bottoming out, pressing against the plug that was still inside of her.
Ona started thrusting as she felt Lucy had gotten used to the way she filled her up, starting with slow languid thrusts as she held the vibrator in place.
Lucy struggled to focus on all the sensations overwhelming her. She felt euphoric yet whiny, caught in a paradox of feeling both overwhelmed and unsatisfied. She craved more.
She cried out as Ona thrust harder and more deliberately. Fuck she was incredible, Lucy thought as every movement hit just the right spot. But she quickly realized that this wasn’t entirely focused on her. As her own orgasm built, the swears and murmurs behind her revealed that Ona was also nearing her climax.
“I-” She moaned, cutting herself off as waves of pleasure surged through her. She collapsed onto her forearms, her face pressing into the bed as her thighs quivered. The intensity of her orgasm hitting her sooner than she had anticipated.
Ona bit her lip as she watched the wetness gushing down between their bodies. She let the vibrator fall onto the bed, leaving it running as she gripped Lucy's hips, desperately chasing her own release. She was so close. She shut her eyes tight, concentrating on her peak, thrusting just right so the base of the strap pressed firmly against her clit.
Lucy’s walls convulsed around the strap, having moved past the initial waves of overstimulation, and another orgasm was already building up.
At the same time they cried out, waves of pleasure rippling through their bodies at the same time, jerkily Ona rode out her orgasm until she pulled out and collapsed next to Lucy.
Lucy was in a complete daze, her vision blurred, heart pounding so loudly she could hear it echoing in her ears. A wave of pure bliss washed over her, and time felt meaningless.
She couldn’t tell if it had been seconds, minutes, or longer. Time seemed to blur in her hazy state. Slowly, Lucy became aware of the gentle buzzing against her belly. With fumbling hands, she reached down, trying to turn it off. Ona chuckled softly and took it from her, switching it off with ease.
Lucy let out a deep sigh. "That was… fucking amazing."
Ona turned to face her fully, a satisfied smile on her lips. "Glad you liked it."
"And you?" Lucy asked, her voice a bit breathless.
"Mhm." Ona leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Lucy’s cheek. "Very good."
Lucy smiled, rolling onto her back, stretching out as contentment washed over her. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this satisfied before. As she sensed Ona moving beside her, she cracked one eye open and was met with a playful smile.
Ona reached out, lazily tracing patterns on Lucy’s chest. "You tired already?" she teased, though there was a faint note of disappointment in her voice.
Lucy hummed, savoring a few more moments of bliss before sitting up slightly. "Why?"
Ona chuckled, that familiar mischievous glint returning to her eyes. The athleticism was always a plus, models tended to tire too quickly for her liking. "Want to wear a strap? I think you’ve earned it." She smirked, already imagining how Lucy would womanhandle her, or perhaps she could ride her, propped up against those irresistible abs.
A slow smile spread across Lucy’s face. Oh, she definitely wanted to wear a strap. "Yeah," she replied, "I’d like that."
"Perfect," Ona said with a grin, standing up with the kind of ease that made it seem like she was just starting her day, full of fresh energy.
Lucy could feel her own energy gradually returning. As Ona removed her harness, letting it fall to the floor with the strap still attached. Lucy stepped towards her, removing the plug and laying it beside the discarded strap.
Ona didn’t seem to notice, already preoccupied with scanning her closet. Without looking up, she handed Lucy a harness, her mind focused on choosing the right strap.
With practiced ease, Lucy slipped into the harness, already feeling the familiar stir of excitement building again.
Ona turned to her with a grin, handing over the strap and a small bottle of lube.
Lucy raised an eyebrow as she took it. This girl was definitely experienced, but the size of the strap was... pretty big. She couldn’t help but smirk, though she kept any comment to herself.
It was a shame Lucy wasn’t allowed to kiss her, especially now. Ona looked so damn cute biting her bottom lip, intently watching her secure the strap. Truly a shame.
Unable to resist, Lucy leaned in, kissing the soft skin of her neck with eager lips. They stumbled into the wooden door, and Lucy caught Ona just before she could crash into it too hard, pausing her movements.
Their eyes met, Ona’s filled with undeniable lust. Lucy smirked. This girl truly had a passion, no doubt about that.
Lucy lifted Ona, carrying her toward the nearest wall, to not to let Ona’s back press against the rough wood.
Ona chuckled at how effortlessly the girl carried her. Cupping Lucy's face she pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before trailing her lips down to her neck, playfully returning the favor with a few teasing bites mixed in.
She paused, however, when Lucy pressed the lubed strap against her, a low groan escaping her lips as Lucy began to grind her hips. Held securely against the wall, Ona could feel the firm grip of Lucy's big hands on her ass, grounding her.
Her jaw went slack as Lucy slowly entered her, guiding her down onto the rubber strap. God, she loved the feeling of being filled like this.
Ona reached for Lucy’s hair, fingers tangling just above the nape of her neck, giving it a firm tug. Lucy groaned in response, but it didn’t slow her rhythm. Instead, she leaned in closer, her lips finding Ona’s neck once more, resuming her trail of eager kisses.
Lucy felt the urge to give Ona more, to feel even closer, the desire to kiss more of her skin was overwhelming. With that thought, she shifted, holding up Ona easily as she walked them towards the bed. Her movements slowed but remained deliberate, their connection never breaking even as she shuffled on to the bed.
Lucy eagerly latched onto Ona’s chest, her tongue tracing circles and lips sucking gently, every movement fueled by the soft sounds escaping the woman below her. Each moan spurred her on, her own thrusts becoming more insistent, matching the rhythm of Ona’s pleasure. Lucy’s focus was completely on her, reading every breath, every gasp, and responding with more intensity.
Ona groaned, a sudden idea flashing through her mind. She tugged Lucy up by the roots of her hair and, with a swift motion, rolled them both over. Lucy, caught off guard but intrigued, let it happen, eyes widening as she watched Ona straddle her waist. Instinctively, she tried to sit up, eager to continue her trail of kisses, but Ona gently pushed her back down, pinning her to the bed.
Without a word, Ona reached for the vibrator they'd used earlier, switching it on and positioning it against herself. As she began to ride Lucy, her left hand pressed firmly against Lucy’s toned stomach, steadying herself while she controlled the pace, her movements deliberate and intoxicating.
Ona's eyes squeezed shut, her breath hitching as she focused on the growing tension coiling in her core. The heat in her stomach tightened with every thrust, every brush of Lucy’s touch, pulling her closer and closer to the edge of release.
As Ona’s body faltered, Lucy’s hands tightened around her hips, steadying her movements. She continued to lift her up and down, her own hips rolling rhythmically beneath her, guiding Ona through every wave of pleasure.
With a satisfied hum, Ona eventually eased herself off Lucy and collapsed beside her, turning off the toy with a soft click. She exhaled deeply, sinking into the bed in contentment, her breathing gradually slowing.
Lucy rolled on her side to watch Ona, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.
Ona sighed and rolled her eyes, before turning to face her. "Lucy"
Lucy, still captivated by Ona’s beauty, smiled warmly. "Yes?"
Ona leaned closer, gently cupping Lucy’s face in her hands and squeezing her cheeks. "Hello."
Lucy chuckled, feeling a flutter in her chest. "Yes, hello. I already -"
"No," Ona interrupted, squeezing a bit harder. "I know that look. Put your brain back in gear for a moment."
Lucy blinked, momentarily confused. Her mind was engaged, or so she thought. Oh shit. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized she might have been caught up in the moment more than she intended.
Ona's grip tightened slightly. "You’re not falling in love with me," she said firmly. "This was fun, but it's just an act. We're not running away together, we’re not getting married on an island, and you’re not buying me presents." She released Lucy’s face and gave a reassuring smile.
Lucy’s frown deepened as she processed Ona’s words. Wait, was I really - she thought shocked, a mixture of surprise and embarrassment washing over her.
"But this was great," Ona continued, her smile softening. "If you ever find yourself back in Barcelona and have time for a night of fun, just ask for Nova."
"Nova?" Lucy asked, still a bit flustered. "Oh, is that your stage name?"
Ona nodded, a playful glint in her eye. "Sí."
----the end-----
I hope you liked it, I have never written a song-fic and i went a little of track (litteraly lol).
sorry, this was... a lot 🙈
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trappolia · 5 months ago
Text
── MY SWEET VILLAIN, MY DARLING GOD
nanook. your aeon lover begrudgingly celebrates the day of your creation.
Nanook's birth was a fiery thing; a light piercing through the clouds like golden death, scorching the world once known as Adlivun. Their birth preceded the collapse of an entire universe, one that had somehow persevered through the Emperor's war and was strengthening their defenses against the coming of the Swarm's march. The old towers of this already dying world had crumbled as the sun rose for the very last time in Adlivun, marking the coming of Destruction incarnate.
But for all the chaos and death their birth brought upon, the day they came into being is of no real importance to Nanook. They do not remember the constellations shining upon their home when they first ignited, nor do they recall whether or not the heat remained or if the cold dark was the first thing they felt, for Adlivun was long gone by the time their golden irises illuminated what was left of the world.
It is a curious thing; for all they have discarded and forgotten of their birth, they remember yours.
What is a god? Certainly not immortal, that is for sure. Pantheons have collapsed with the passage of time, forgotten in the seas of lost religions. Aeons are just as susceptible to death and collapse as the universes they traverse and conquer. On the same spectrum, the birth of a being as powerful as an Aeon is an anomaly felt by the entire universe, a single ripple that results in the violent waves of a turning tide. Such concepts are merely specks of dust for them. What use do they have for such worries, when their lives are mysteries in the known worlds, tipping the balance of the scales simply by existing?
Nanook’s fascination with you could be dismissed as another consequence of the butterfly effect. They should have nothing else on their mind beside righting the worlds’ wrongs, ridding the universe of the cancer that emerges from the boundless stars to taint civilisations. War. Death. Destruction. Finality. Nanook is a jagged puzzle made up of the gods and mortals they had killed, universes scorched from existence like a supernova; and yet, you fit into their life like you were meant to be there all along.
“My sweet villain,” you whisper into their ear, saccharine sweet and painfully loving in all the ways they do not deserve. “My darling god.”
No, they want to say. They are a villain, yes — your sweet villain, if you continue to insist — but a darling god? No, that mantle has always rightfully belonged to you. For a being whose existence has been dictated by their status as Avatar of Entropy since birth, Nanook finds that everything seems to come together when you press your lips against theirs, your taste sweeter than ambrosia.
You are their most infuriating distraction, they think as you sit together amongst the stars of a universe that has yet to die, clinging onto their last rays of sun and hope before Nanook ends it all. it is their sweetest punishment, to have to sit here with you in their arms, so easily drawing their thoughts away from their duties and ideals— and for what? Looking at the stars together? How pathetic.
Pathetic, in the way they recognise these stars, these constellations. It is rare to come across any two galaxies that have the same formation of stars, as likely as to find a needle in a haystack, as mortals say. But here they are, their eyes dragging over the stars glimmering in the abyss. They know these patterns. They know their stories.
They remember the day.
“It is your birthday,” they murmur. Even in this soft tone that Nanook only ever reserves for you, their voice is a booming bass that reverberates throughout the galaxy. Somewhere, another star dies out.
“Hm?” you say cluelessly, looking up at them with eyes that shine brighter than the golden ichor that drips down their arms.
“A mortal custom,” Nanook replies gruffly, feigning nonchalance even as a shiver runs down their spine at the touch of your fingers upon their skin. “The stars are the same as they were the day you came into being.”
“Ah. So they are,” you say when you finally look at the constellations.
It is a strange thing— a humiliating thing; the way Nanook can barely breathe when you are near, and how the air grows stale when you aren’t. It’s as if the Aeon of Destruction is utterly dependent on your attention, your love. How pathetic. How miserable.
how true.
The aeon may have only ascended recently, the youngest of all known paths, but they have made their mark on the universe already; whether it is with the presence of the Antimatter Legion, or the existential crisis brought upon by Nanook’s very life. With their birth, one could no longer deny that destruction is the inescapable destiny of all the known universes; expansion, fusion, and then annihilation. It is the same for Aeons; the survival of the fittest, to destroy or be destroyed, to absorb or be absorbed. For as long as people still walk on the path of destruction, Nanook will continue to aim for the complete devastation of this tainted universe. They alone are the sole being who truly understands what a mistake the birth of this universe was. Each ship and planet may follow a different path, but what civilisation does not speak the common tongue of war? What universe does not know death, pain, destruction?
“What universe does not know love?” you would ask them in response to that. Your hands come up to cup their cheeks in your palm, and Nanook is undone. “Even you know love, my violent delight. Why else would you have remembered the position of the stars the day I was born?”
Would you like your death day to be on the same day as your birth?” Nanook questions you without any real malice, their voice breathless as you drag your thumb over their bottom lip.
You laugh, and Nanook hears the stars sing with you.
Why is it that mortals bother in the struggle of survival? they think. Nothing lasts forever, not even the great Aeons themselves. Civilisations rise and fall, galaxies materialise and collapse. For a new beginning, the book must end. It is simply the way of things. Nanook knows this. Nanook has always known this.
And yet, in these moments with you, they cannot help but cling onto your immortality. They cradle you close, because if the Aeon of Destruction — of all things lost to violence and death — cannot kill you, then what can? If Lan of the Hunt shuns Yaoshi of the Abundance for loving the living too much to the point of cursing them with immortality when it is too heavy of a burden to hear, then it is only a matter of time until they realise that Nanook is a threat to the balance as well. What is life without you? Merely the act of existing, rather than living— chasing a goal, without ever stopping to see the stars and consider the stories behind them.
in death, Nanook will be remembered as many things, and the Antimatter Legion will carry out their legacy just as all the previous Aeons’ factions do in the present day. Even if they must continue Nanook’s ideals in the shadows, the Aeon of Destruction will shadow the known universe for all of eternity— for what civilisation exists without the pain of violence and death? Destruction is a concept as sure as life and death; immortal, even if its Aeon has long since passed. That is Nanook’s goal, their sole purpose of living.
But on this day, Nanook allows themself a singular moment to hope that when they die, the universe will know them not only for the destruction they had reigned upon the universe, but for the fact that they did it in your name— for they had loved you above all else.
© trappolia 2024
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woodland-gremlin · 6 months ago
Text
Summoning Your Secret Boyfriend Pt. 4
First Previously AU Summary
“And you never thought to mention that to anyone?!”
Red Robin and Supernova looked at each other.
“Information about the Infinite Realms is limited for a reason. Humans like to poke their noses where they don’t belong no matter the damage they cause while doing so. They were kind enough to return Batman even though we were trespassing and the tense relationship between our realms. We weren’t going to spit in their favor by subjecting them to an interrogation by the Justice League,” Red Robin stated firmly.
“And it wasn’t as if we were hiding this from you, you didn’t even ask how we got Batman back,” Supernova added.
Their words made some feel guilty or considered. Batman however, looked like someone wrecked the Batmobile while taking it out for a joyride. Not that most could tell the subtle difference from his default ‘I am Vengeance' look.
“Red Robin,” Batman growled. “It is expected that you put everything in your report. You broke protocol.”
Red Robin gritted his teeth. Leave it up to Batman to ignore everything in the face of the unknown. This was one of the reasons he never mentioned the Realms. He knew if he placed some unknown in front of him that he would dig and dig until he knew everything and had multiple contingency plans to defeat them. Only caring once someone got hurt from his digging. Only after. And the other reason was he hoped that he would ask him. That he would give him more than a nod. That he would be proud of him. That he would show him that he truly saw him as his son. Not a soldier and not a replacement.
“No he didn’t,” Supernova said, breaking Red Robin from his spiral.
Red Robin turned his head to see his boyfriend standing to his side, looking determined.
“You both did,” Batman grunted, “Things like other dimensional beings and deals should have been put in the report no matter what they think. We have a confidential database for a reason. We have done diplomacy missions across space.Their secrets would be safe. This matter with Trigon could have ended much sooner if you did.”
“We didn’t break protocol because we were not on a League sanctioned mission in the first place,” Supernova stated firmly. “You are not entitled to our or their secrets. And as we stated before we didn’t want to subject them to you guys. If you barged in when they were already weary due to the Anti-Ecto Acts you could have kickstarted a war.”
Before Batman could continue to admonish them Constantine cut in with a horrified look on his face.
“What do you mean by the Anti-Ecto Acts?” Constantine asked, hoping against all hope that it wasn’t what it sounded like. Because if it was it was likely they would be dealing with something worse than Trigon.
To be continued. . .
Next
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