#let's see who will be crowned winner this time | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thisapplepielife · 12 days ago

Text

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

A Perfect 40

Eddie is kicked back on the panel, his paddles piled up in front of him. He's the worst person to judge a wet t-shirt contest. He's not exactly a boob man. But the other three were thrilled, so he was game. He'll just give all the girls 10s and call it a day.

They parade each contestant out, wet, white tees clinging to their bare breasts and true to his word, it's 10s from him. Everybody's going home happy on his watch.

Then, Eddie finds a good reason to sit up straight. The only straight he'll ever be.

There's a guy, with perfect hair, and a skintight white shirt clinging to his torso, showing the thick thatch of chest hair underneath. And a slight softness at the middle, offsetting his broad fucking shoulders.

And then the swim trunks. The goddamn swim trunks. They're wet, too, and ain't hiding shit. The bulge that the material is clinging to is gonna drive Eddie insane, right here in public. He looks big. Eddie likes big.

He licks his lips, making eye contact with this perfect 10.

Then, Eddie's distraught. He wasted all those previous perfect 10s on boobs. Now, he sees tits. Manly, hairy tits, a happy trail showing through the white fabric, and that goddamn cock on display that he wants to get up close and personal with immediately. This is the one that deserves the highest score. The other guys are holding up middling numbers, fives, and a disgraceful three from Goodie, and Eddie has to act. He reaches next to him and grabs Gareth's ten paddle. And holds it up along with his own. Giving him a 20.

The guy laughs, and it's not enough, he bullies another 10 paddle away from Goodie, and snaps his fingers at Jeff, who relinquishes his without a fuss.

40.

This guy deserves a 40, and Eddie's gonna give it to him.

And then he winks. He winks at Eddie.

Eddie reaches for Gareth's 9, the next best thing, and gets his hand slapped in the process.

Oh well. 40 will do.

As far as Eddie's concerned, get this guy his prize money. His crown. He's obviously the chosen one. The winner.

One of the stage managers is trying to argue behind them that Eddie's cheating, and it's not allowed. Eddie argues that no rules were laid out that said he only could use one paddle at a time.

He's pedantic, but not wrong.

They eventually stop arguing with him, crown some bleach blonde with big boobs the winner, and the hot guy is given some sort of honorary runner-up. A concession to try and keep Eddie's mouth shut.

He won't cause a scene, but they are the goddamn, dirty cheaters. Not him. He just gamed the system. There's a difference.

Then, the stage clears, and Mr. Body Hair is gone.

Leaving Eddie bereft.

Backstage, they get their swag bags for participating and there's only one prize Eddie wants in the bottom of his cereal box.

Eddie steps out onto the beach, and scans the surrounding area. He finally spots him, pulling off his shirt. Which, amazing. Less amazing is his girlfriend fussing over him, rubbing him with a towel, then putting more sunscreen on him.

Lucky broad.

Eddie's about to turn around and head back, when she meets his eyes. And nudges the guy, who turns.

He grins, striding towards Eddie, and there's a glob of sunscreen clinging to his nose. Eddie reaches out and rubs it in, paying extra attention to the pair of moles on his cheek. The guy closes his eyes and lets Eddie do it.

Goddamn.

"The real winner, robbed," Eddie says, "I'm Eddie."

"Steve," the guy answers.

"Well, you should have won, Steve. Rigged system. It's an injustice. Maybe a class action lawsuit in the making. I'll join you."

Steve smiles.

"They didn't say a guy couldn't enter," Steve quips, and that's the exact kind of disobedience and bending of rules Eddie fully appreciates.

"And they didn't say I couldn't use all the paddles I could hold," Eddie banters back. Then he reaches for his wallet. Thumbs through it. He doesn't have enough to match the original prize money, but he takes out the hundred dollar bills he does have.

"I'll pay up. Even if they won't," Eddie says, and Steve shakes his head.

"No way, I'm not taking your money. I just did it for fun."

"Don't make me put it in your g-string."

Steve laughs, looking down, "I'm not wearing a g-string."

Eddie's well aware of that, but banters back, "Damn. Ruin a guy's dream, why dontcha?"

Steve tries to press it back into Eddie's chest as he laughs.

"He won't take it, but I will. That's a month's rent, dingus," Steve's girlfriend says, and Eddie hands it over. She's been damn cool about the whole thing.

"Robin!" he chides. "I'm sorry. I swear she's housebroken."

She kicks him in the shin, and he kicks back.

Definitely not a girlfriend. Sister?

"Best friend," Steve says, as if he's reading Eddie's mind, "Most days. When she's not acting like this."

Best friend? Eddie's lucky day.

"Well, in that case," Eddie says, really turning up the charm, "You wanna get out of here? I have ten inches I could settle up with."

Steve raises an eyebrow, challenging his claim wordlessly, and Eddie laughs, delighted at being called out. Nobody calls him out anymore. That's the price of fame. Yes men. Steve doesn't seem like a yes man.

Eddie grins, flirting, "Okay, I don't. But you won't tell anybody, right? That'll be our little secret. You and me. Eddie and Steve."

Steve's a good sport, that much is obvious, especially when he banters back, "Deal. I won't get out the tape measure if you don't."

"That's mighty kind of you."

"I wouldn't want to show you up," Steve quips, grinning.

Eddie glances at Steve's wet trunks, and just grins devilishly.

Oh, Eddie's in trouble with this one. Big trouble.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries, check out @corrodedcoffinfest to read takes on Spring Break prompts, or to offer up your own!

#corrodedcoffinfest #prompt: sunscreen #steddie fic #stranger things #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfiction #stranger things fic #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: corrodedcoffinfest

303 notes · View notes

msfantasy-comics · 6 months ago

Text

Teen Three and Intruder Billy Batson

Platonic!Damian Wayne x WonderGirl!Reader x Platonic!Jon Kent x Platonic!Billy Batson

Summary: Damian and Jon can’t help but notice their best friend is distracted with the new commer. Shenanigans ensues.

Warning: No Romance here.

“And they posted ANOTHER Tik Tok! Can you believe that?!” Damian rants as Jon pours himself another bowl of cereal.

“Uh-huh.” He reply’s, hoping Damian will realise how ridiculous he sounds.

“I can’t believe this. It’s like we aren’t even friends anymore. Like she’s forgotten us and we are the background characters!” Damian continues making Jon roll his eyes in silence. “Did you just roll your eyes at me Kent?! This is serious! Look at her account, they already have 11 videos together, isn’t that just weird?!”

Jon mutters an agreeable hum now rinsing his bowl in the sink. “That’s cool Dames, thanks for calling me just to talk about Y/n and Billy for…” Jon taps his phone screen and sees the video call timer showing 56 minutes. “An hour…”

“Don’t call me Dames! And it��s been 56 minutes Kent. Perhaps summer school is in your future.” Jon groans at Damians semantics. “I’ll come pick you up, I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

“Wait what?” Jon sputters as he rechecks the video call to see Damian sitting in a bat ship. “Dude, no, I have to help my mom with the farm.”

“TT, you should’ve told me that before I got in the batship! It’s too late, I’m coming over, picking you up and we are going to Y/n’s house to film Tik Toks to show that intruder who her real friends are.”

Opening the front door you see non-other the Damian standing with a glare and Jon standing sheepishly on your families front porch. “Dames, Jon? I wasn’t expecting to see you guys.” You announce surprised, waving them through to the lounge room where the intruder is found lounging, as if this was normal, as if he was here regularly.

“Batson.” Damian greets coldly, his nose turned up.

“Bat’s son.” Billy greets with a grinning smirk at Damian’s expression. “Jon! Good to see you man! It’s been so long!” Billy greets enthusiastically pulling Jon into a quick hug.

“Like wise.” He reply’s before pulling back and taking a seat next to Damian, avoiding his unspoken accusatory stare.

“Enough fratinising with the intruder!” Damian yells, making you scowl.

“The what? Damian-“

“No times for lectures!” Damian interrupts, “Whoever uploads the most Tik Toks with Y/n by end of the month, is crowned her true best friend!”

“Wha-“

“You’re on!” Billy agrees, fully bemused by Damian’s antics.

“This is stupid Dames.” Jon grumbles.

“What the hell Damian! You can’t just-“

“The winner will have an all expenses covered holiday of Y/n’s choosing paid by Wayne Enterprises.” Damian quickly adds making you shut your mouth instantly.

“… well best of luck guys.” You yield.

Diana really thought the end of September couldn’t come sooner.

Diana thought this whole scenario was harmless shenanigans. But considering it involved the Teen-Three, she really should’ve known better.

Diana was getting non-stop phone calls from the school and other parents with concerns and complaints at the inappropriate conduct, especially with Damian speeding dangerously through the parking lot in a super car to pick up her daughter to film Tik Toks and with Billy just randomly showing up in her daughters classes to film Tik Toks was really getting out of hand.

Diana resisted the urge to kill the kid’s fun at the request of her husband.

“Let the kids have their fun! When I was Y/n’s age, I was day drinking, smoking like a chimney and sleeping with…” Diana stares down her husband, daring him to finish his sentence. “… moral of the story, let the kids be.”

The winner turned out to be Jon, who came over last night and spent 1 minute recording a video, and proceeded to continuously reupload that video until mid-night.

Diana and her husband watched arguments and debates ensue whilst sipping their newly imported wine.

“These kids and their shenanigans, I swear.”

#dc imagine #batboys x reader #dc x reader #batboys imagine #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagine #platonic!jon kent x wondergirl!reader x platonic! damian wayne #billy batson x reader #billy batson imagine #teen!reader #WonderGirl!reader #platonic!reader #platonic!Damian Wayne #platonic!Jon Kent #platonic!Billy Batson #Robin x reader #superboy x reader #Shazam x reader #captain marvel x reader

435 notes · View notes

ckret2 · 2 months ago

Text

Bill's getting a makeover from Pacifica!! Yaaay

And what good will it do him?

Here's chapter 83 of human Bill Cipher being more of a prisoner in his body than in the Mystery Shack by this point: the shack's decided that the only possible thing that can save them from certain doom is getting Bill to flirt with a government agent, and Pacifica's recruited to help.

She does NOT know who her customer is.

####

"Folks, I'm not exaggerating when I say that out of all my duties as mayor, there's no greater honor than getting to host the county's annual Best Baby Ever Pageant and meeting all your beautiful and talented children. When I look in each young shape's bright little eye, and know that in this room are this county's future priests, police officers, teachers, doctors, entrepreneurs, maybe even the mayor of tomorrow... It gives me hope for the future." The mayor lowered his voice conspiratorially, "And it doesn't hurt that I get to declare it a city holiday and lock town hall's door for the day, either."

The parents in the audience chuckled appreciatively. Their children, who would have had the day off anyway and frankly found this a whole lot more work, mostly didn't.

"But all good things must come to an end, and we've reached the end of this year's competition." The mayor gestured to the contestants behind him, lined up in front of a temporary backdrop with a cheapy, shiny curtain. Most of the contestants were being held by a parent, but a few were old enough to fidget in front of the crowd all alone. "We've awarded all the individual prizes for each age bracket—which have gone to kids with any number of sides, with ages ranging everywhere from five years old to five hours old—and now all we have left is this year's grand prize!"

An enormous trophy waited to the mayor's side. It was plastic and hollow, but it was painted gold and taller than most of the children.

The mayor said, "And the winner of this year's Best Baby Ever award is... " Someone at the back of the hall played a pre-recorded drumroll through a tinny speaker. "The overall winner from the Age 0-6 Months category—Billy Cipher!"

Scalene let out a squeal of excitement that was audible over the applause. Bill startled awake in her arm and blinked sleepily around the room.

Several of the other parents on stage surreptitiously shot Scalene dirty looks—of course her kid had won, who could deny a newborn a prize on his birthday? It would be adorable. The judges had probably leaped at the opportunity.

Scalene shifted Bill in front of herself so the audience could see him better and so she could flash a hidden razor-sharp grin to a couple of her defeated rivals. That was exactly why she'd brought him today.

"Congratulations," the mayor said, placing a very tiny crown atop Bill. Bill endured this with patient, sleepy befuddlement. "Billy will be going home with the grand prize trophy and cash prize—as well as a full set of cutlery from our sponser, Knifeco Knives! But of course we'll hand that to mama to handle," he chuckled. "And the top winners from the other brackets will receive four-piece cutlery gift sets from Knifeco, which include—"

Scalene snatched the microphone from the mayor, jabbed him aside with one corner, and gushed to the crowd, "Thank you so much! I'm sure I'm speaking for my little Billy when I say just how grateful and honored he'll be when he's old enough to understand what a gift you've given him." She beamed out at the crowd, her flashy candy apple red makeup (she'd hastily slathered herself in side liner on her way to the pageant) drowning out every other shape on the stage—except for the naturally neon yellow infant in her arm. "As some of the pageant regulars—"

The mayor said, "Scalene, we didn't actually schedule time for the winners to make speeches—"

She sweetly whispered, "No one wants to hear about the sponsor, Otto," and pushed him aside. "As some of the pageant regulars here already know—I see you out there, hello!—I'm a pageant queen myself—(Miss Teen Curvy Strait three separate years!)—so, as a new mother, I'm so pleased that my little golden child is following in the family footsteps. I..."

The spotlights were blazing hot. She didn't understand how Bill—now wide awake again—could stare straight into the piercing lights without even blinking. Maybe he was blind; it would figure, considering what the afterbirth looked like.

Her knees were weak. Her sides screamed in pain. She shifted her grip to hold Bill more securely and to try to coax the sharpest spot of pain on that side to migrate to a fresh spot, shook off a wave of dizziness, and went on, "I hope that this is just the first of many future crowns for me—myyy sweet little Billy, ahem. I can promise you'll be seeing a lot of him in... in the..."

With a thud, she passed out and collapsed against the theater backdrop.

A nearby child squeaked in alarm.

"Scalene?!" Euclid was at the back of the audience, having snuck in during the closing ceremonies and hovered near the door where he could at least hear as the winners were announced. Now, as the mayor and several other pageant parents rushed to Scalene's side, he shoved his way through the crowd. "Move, that's my wife! Dang it, I told you to use your cane!"

One of the other mothers pulled out a copy of the program and fanned Scalene's eye. The mayor scooped up Bill and checked him for injuries. "Are you alright, little tri?"

Still too small to move himself, his eye darted in a panic to his mother's face, to the bright bright spotlights, to his mother again, to the blurry blue of his father buried deep in a sea of other shapes, to the mayor and the many strange faces crowded around him—and then he swallowed back his oversized eye to open his mouth and wail.

Which was the exact moment the stage curtain caught fire.

####

A bearded man with his hair done up in black liberty spikes and a spider web tattoo climbing up his left arm watched as Pacifica dumped several shopping bags of makeup onto her desk. "This visitor must be really important. You never pass up doing these guys' weekly grooming." He was sitting on the barn floor, brushing an alpaca with long, silky white hair.

"You have no idea." Pacifica stuffed the shopping bags in the wastebasket surreptitiously hidden under her far-too-big U-shaped executive desk, and quickly sorted the beauty supplies into their proper order of operations.

"Didn't you say it's Mabel and one of her friends? Mabel's here all the time."

"It's not just any friend, Spiderwebs!" Pacifica pulled a locket out of a desk drawer, ran over to Spiderwebs, and popped it open. "It's this friend! I've never met him before, all I know is that he has the most gorgeous hair I've ever seen. I have got to make a good first impression."

Spiderwebs and the alpaca inspected the locket's contents. He said, "You've never met him and you've got some of his hair in a locket?"

Pacifica flushed. "Th— Shut up!" She snapped the locket shut and stuffed it in a pocket. "I had the locket just lying around anyway, it's whatever."

At the sound of voices outside, Pacifica gasped. "They're here! Do I look okay?!"

Spiderwebs—whose entire outfit cost less than Pacifica's left sock and who quite frankly found the amount of makeup Pacifica wore concerning for a child her age—said, "Sure, fine."

"Great!" Pacifica bounced on the balls of her feet, squealed in excitement, and ran outside to greet Mabel and her friend. "Heyyy there! I'm Pacifica Northwest, it's so nice to meet—" She froze, "you..."

Before her stood a person with the most beautiful golden hair she'd ever seen.

Which was attached to a lady in a t-shirt, an eyepatch, a bedsheet, and cheap novelty slippers that look like fish.

On top of that, the lady was mildly sunburned (obviously no moisturizer), wasn't wearing a bra, was leaning on an umbrella like a cane, clearly hadn't shaved in a while, had a very obvious fake tooth, had a weird bulgy eye, sort of smelled like fish (please don't let it be the slippers), and, to cap it all off, was fat.

Pacifica was working on herself. She was trying to unlearn the lessons about beauty she'd learned from her mom, and from the child pageant circuit, and from all her judgy friends, and from the modeling industry. She was slowly getting comfortable with the idea that physical beauty wasn't everything.

However. So far, that meant she'd been working on accepting ideas like it's okay if sometimes I'm an 8/10 instead of a 10/10. She had not yet tackled the far more daunting proposition of internalizing concepts like it's okay if sometimes other people are ugly.

Which was a problem, if she was going to give this person a makeover.

She swallowed hard and rearranged her expectations for the afternoon.

"Hey Pacifica!" Mabel beamed at her. "Thanks sooo much helping! This is Goldie, he's your customer. Goldie, this is Pacifica." Mabel gasped. "Giorgio, you're lookin' so fiiiine!" She ran into the barn to greet the alpaca Spiderwebs was grooming.

Leaving Pacifica outside with a stranger with a very creepy smile. Pacifica said, "Ummm..."

"The feeling's mutual, haha." On top of everything else, Goldie had a weird, nasally voice.

He, Mabel had said. "Hey, um," said Pacifica, who had never actually been in this position before and wasn't quite sure the polite way to handle it, "not to be rude, but... are you a guy, orrr...?"

"I'm whatever makes this conversation easiest. Don't overthink it!" He swept around Pacifica, hands clasped behind his back and around his umbrella, and sauntered into the barn. Which was kind of impressive, because fish-shaped slippers didn't seem designed for sauntering.

"So... guy?" Pacifica tried.

"For you? Sure," Goldie said indulgently. "Our target's expecting a lady, though, so—" Without turning toward Pacifica, he gestured up-and-down at his body. "Expect to femme this thing up."

Pacifica bit her lips as she swallowed down the most profound disappointment of her life so far, readjusted her expectations for the evening, and figured out what to say. She may not have unlearned the instinct to be shallowly judgmental, but she'd at least made progress on learning to keep it in her head. Most of it. Some—some of it. She'd keep some of it to herself. "Oh-kay. I don't know what Mabel told you, but—just so you know, I'm not running some charity barbershop for the homeless, all right? I'm a professional. I take looks seriously. I'm not going to soften the truth just because you're Mabel's friend, so—if you're not okay with that, you should just go home now."

He turned to glance at her, his trajectory curving to the side as he did; and suddenly she felt like a very small fish being circled by a hungry stingray. "Wow! You and Mabel both had to warn me! At this point, I'll be disappointed if you're polite." Goldie laughed. "Don't worry, I wasn't expecting a barbershop." He used his umbrella to gesture around at the barn, "A barbershop would smell less like farm animals." He flipped up his eyepatch (he had a whole second eye under there?) so he could shoot Pacifica a sly sideways glance. "Maybe personality can make up for looks. Right?"

Pacifica's face flushed red. Personality can make up for looks was what Pacifica's mom said other moms told their ugly daughters when they entered pageants they had no shot of winning. "Hey, how dare you! Maybe this barn is an ugly salon—but it's a beautiful ranch!" She huffed, "Anyway, I didn't have a choice! I couldn't bring you home in front of my parents. You're better suited to the barn."

She regretted it the moment the words were out of her mouth—that was the kind of thing she was trying not to say to people as often—but Goldie's grin only widened. "Just do what you can with this flesh scarecrow I'm wearing, Alpaca. I know what beauty standards around here are like, I know what I look like, and I'm more apathetic about this body than you could possibly imagine. You won't hurt my feelings!" He flipped his eyepatch back down and glanced away from her, eye roving around the barn ceiling like a searchlight trying to find a stray bat. "Nobody goes to a coach because they're expecting to be told 'you're beautiful just the way you are'!"

A coach—like a pageant coach? He was making an awful lot of allusions to the pageant world. Just to make fun of her, or...? "You're lucky I'm not a coach. You couldn't afford my rates."

Goldie laughed. "You'd overcharge!" And then he ignored her, turning his attention to her one full-time employee. "Hey, Spiderwebs! So this is where you ended up! Workin' hard or hardly workin'?"

Spiderwebs looked up from the aplaca he was tending to to frown at Goldie. "Do I know you?"

"Know me? You picked a fight with me once!"

"Oh. Who won?"

"By the time I was finished with you, you were stone-cold unconscious!"

"That's probably why I don't remember it."

While Goldie was distracted talking to Spiderwebs, Pacifica knelt by Mabel—who was crouched to wrap her arms around Giorgio's neck and nuzzle him—and muttered, "Your friend's a major creep."

"What did he do," Mabel asked.

Pacifica thought. What did he do? Say he wouldn't be offended by brutal honesty? Tell her her barn smelled like a barn? "Nothing, it's just—the way he did it."

"Yeah," Mabel sighed. "We're working on his people skills." At least she didn't think Pacifica was crazy.

"Hey, does Goldie have any, like... beauty industry experience, that you know of?"

"His mom was a model," Mabel said. "And he did some stuff with beauty pageants?"

"Yeah? What kind of stuff?"

"Ummm..." Mabel grimaced uncertainly. "Tech... stuff...?" Okay, she clearly didn't have a clue. But that was what she'd wanted to know: yes, he was familiar with the pageant scene. She readjusted her expectations for the afternoon for the second time in as many minutes.

Apparently finished with Spiderwebs, Goldie called, "Anyway, I'm not trying to win ay supreme crowns!" Make that familiar with the pageant scene and wanted to make sure Pacifica knew that. "Just seduce some government agent who already thinks this is hot. You're lucky, we have an easy target!"

Mabel said, "This guy!" She unwrapped one arm from around Giorgio's neck to hold her phone out.

Pacifica took it. It was displaying a distinguished-looking middle-aged gentleman with a no-nonsense frown in a classy black suit. Her eyebrows went up. Ooh. The suit was kind of cheap, but it was well-tailored, which made a world of difference. Looked like he took care of himself, too. Definitely worked out. Too bad about the hair, but hey, Pacifica happened to know a great product that could help with that.

She put a hand on Mabel's arm. "I will help Goldie win his heart."

####

Bill hardly glanced around as Pacifica led them into her office; he was familiar with the space. By daylight, it looked less "rustic" and more "cutesy overpriced modern farmhouse."

"I've got everything set up in my office," Pacifica said, coming in with Mabel behind her. There was indeed a wide variety of makeup supplies spread out on her desk. "But the makeup has to wait, we've got to start with your hair."

Bill fought back a cringe. "Don't want to save the best for last?"

"Always do your hair first," Pacifica said firmly. She ducked through a door into a bathroom connected to her office. "That's your first fashion lesson. You can't wash your hair with a face full of makeup. And trying to use a blow dryer or hair iron around your makeup makes you look like a melting wax figure."

"I've seen those in person," Mabel said. "Pacifica's right, that's not a cute look. Especially when the eyeballs start rolling out! Apparently, wax figures' eyeballs are made out of glass?"

Bill made a beeline for the corner where he knew Pacifica kept a folding chair and asked, "Hey, what happened to all those eyes, anyway?" Mabel always needed new arts and crafts supplies, and he bet those would be great for jewelry.

"We stuck them in a big jar." Mabel was lurking in the bathroom door, watching Pacifica. "They're still cursed, though. They turn to look at you when you walk by."

"Even better."

"I can see why the Pines family likes you," Pacifica grumbled.

Bill could think of three Pines who would heartily disagree with that claim. "Oh, please! They can only wish they were half as weird as me." He set up the folding chair in the open space in front of Pacifica's desk—then froze. Huh.

Bill knew lots of things. He had trillions of eyes. He was used to walking into rooms and just knowing what was in them.

Except this room hadn't existed when he'd had all his eyes. It had been built after his death. So why did he already know what it looked like? How had he known where to find a folding chair?

He shut his eyes, trying to work through the déjà vu to picture what angle he'd seen the room at before, and where his eye must have been in order for him to see it; and then he looked at the wall beside the desk. There were several flat glass cases against the wall with alpaca wool goods sealed inside—a scarf, a sweater... He stared at his own face in the middle of a tapestry of his zodiac, preserved like a hunting trophy in a case labeled "First Blanket." Huh. It wasn't some local hick's den after all. Just a local rich girl roleplaying at being a hick.

He studied his true face for a long moment—and then cast a resentful look at the desk covered in makeup, in shades of beige and red. What would any of this sludge do for him? He'd be just as ugly at the end of it.

But Bill wasn't getting a makeover to look beautiful. He was getting it to seduce a human. And those were two diametrically opposed goals.

He missed his face so much.

"It's not illegal," Pacifica said.

Bill gave her a baffled look. "What?"

She pointed at the blanket, "It's not illegal to display a picture of the triangle guy as long as it's got that ring of symbols around it. It, like, repels him or something."

"Oh, does it," Bill said dryly. "It takes the evil eye to avert the evil eye, huh? Hey, maybe I should get one of these! Whaddaya think, Mabel?"

"I already told you I'm not making another!"

"But how am I gonna repel the triangle guy?" he asked, grinning impishly. "What if I'm in danger! The triangle guy could get me! Wouldn't that be terrible?"

"Knock it off! You already stole Soos's."

He expected Pacifica to come back from the bathroom with a brush or something; instead, she held up a spray bottle and said, "Okay, come in—and bring the chair." Bill's heart sank. "We're gonna have to rinse your hair in my sink, sorry."

Bill suppressed a sigh. "It's not the worst thing I've ever done to this hair!" He picked up the chair to carry into the next room.

"All I can do for now is rinse your hair. I don't have any shampoo for your hair texture because I did not think the situation was going to be this dire. No offense," Pacifica said. "You'll have to shampoo at home. You got the hair product samples I sent to the Mystery Shack, right? Were you able to order the full products? I don't know what your budget looks like."

"Don't worry about it, I still have the leftovers from the samples."

He watched in glee as Pacifica died a little on the inside. "Th— Those were one use sample sizes. It's been a month, how do you still have leftovers."

In truth, Pacifica severely overestimated the amount of hair product needed to keep hair clean; but on the other hand Bill was deliberately showering as little as he thought he could get away with and making up the difference in the downstairs half bath sink, so he didn't think smugly flaunting that he technically knew more about minimum human hygiene requirements than she did would make him look as cool and knowledgable as he wanted it to. "Don't worry about it!"

Bill cast one last longing look toward his true face; and then he followed the humans into the restroom to let them reorganize his stupid human hair.

####

"This is just a temporary measure," Pacifica warned as she dunked a few more of Goldie's curls in the sink. "You have got to take a real shower before your date. You literally smell like fish."

"What kind of fish?" Goldie immediately asked. "Is it salmon? If it's salmon I can work with that."

Sitting on the closed toilet lid, Mabel let out a long-suffering sigh; and Pacifica got the horrifying impression that this was an ongoing conversation.

"It... I don't... know what kind of fish."

Mabel said, "It's probably just the trout guts from yesterday." What the heck was life like in poor people's homes?

In Pacifica's opinion, Goldie's hair was both his biggest asset and his worst disaster area. It was that beautiful, natural, curly gold, like something out of a fairy tale; but it was nightmarishly tangled and there was literal sand in it, and he'd clearly used conditioner at some point in the last few days but he hadn't fully washed it out and it just made more sand stick.

Goldie was sitting in the folding chair with one arm rested on the lip of the sink and his cheek resting on his arm. Pacifica had to alternate between soaking his hair under the faucet and trying to gently untangle it, inch by inch, with a comb. To his credit, he patiently endured it without making a word of complaint, even though both the positioning and the manhandling had to be uncomfortable.

But he'd turned his face away from Pacifica and Mabel as much as he could from his awkward position; and whenever Pacifica moved to an angle that let her glimpse a bit of his face, his eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth was pressed thin in a grimace. The hand resting on the sink's lip had clenched into a fist, and his other hand was digging its (badly painted) fingernails into his thigh through his bedsheet skirt.

Hesitantly, she asked, "Are you comfortable?"

"I'll give it three out of five stars," Goldie said, "but if you want a lower score, I can try to find a worse angle for my neck!" He kept as much tension out of his voice as he could; but now that Pacifica had noticed it, she could tell his voice was a bit flattened.

"Never mind," she said. "No offense, but—when's the last time you combed this?" She'd been saying no offense a lot.

Mabel asked, "Have you done it since I brushed your hair at the sleepover?" He had Mabel doing his hair?

Goldie made a noncommittal noise. "I've washed it since then."

"That's not the same," Mabel said.

"You've washed it?" Pacifica asked skeptically. "Because you look like you've been sleeping in mud." She'd found a few flecks deep in his thick curls.

"Okay, in my defense," Goldie said, "it was just garden-variety heavy metal-enriched local dirt when I went to sleep. It only turned into mud while I was unconscious."

Pacifica stopped combing and leaned over to stare at Goldie, speechless.

With an air of affronted dignity, he said, "It wasn't my idea. I wanted to be indoors."

"Goldie's been having a really bad week," Mabel said.

"I've been having a really bad month," Goldie said.

Mabel asked, "Haven't you had a shower since you got home, though?"

There was a pause. Goldie muttered, "Yeah, but—it's hard to get through all that hair." (The worst part was, Pacifica thought he was telling the truth. The fact that she'd found mud so deep meant he must have washed the majority off the outer layers of his hair.) "I—I've been—tired, okay?"

He had that air of impatient irritation that suggested he was embarrassed, but trying to hide it because he was embarrassed of being embarrassed. Strange from Mr. Apathetic About His Body to be self-conscious. Why? Did he not know how to take care of his hair? (Maybe if he'd properly used the samples she'd sent him...)

But Pacifica thought back to Mabel showing her a lock of his hair at the beginning of summer—and the liquified roots, melted off. That wasn't an accident. Whatever depilatory cream he'd used had to sit there on the roots, it wasn't like he'd just grabbed the wrong product by accident. There was something more than ignorance going on here. Self-sabotage? But if it was intentional, why would he be embarrassed?

She could call him out, interrogate him for it—hey, she was supposed to be his style consultant, she needed to know what was going on—but if he was already getting defensive, he'd just clam up if he thought he was really under attack. Her mom got the same way when she was getting cagey about something and Pacifica was trying to figure out why. So she switched her focus. "Mabel—did you say you brushed his hair?"

"Yeah?"

"You meant 'combed his hair,' right?"

"No, I brushed it," Mabel said.

Pacifica stared at her. "Why."

Mabel stared back. "Because... combs are for short guy hair and for parting your hair? And Goldie doesn't have a part?"

Pacifica looked down at the big ball of frizzy curls that made up the bottom half of Mabel's hair and suddenly understood so much. "Oh, hon." What were her parents like. What did their hair look like. "You're supposed to comb natural curls. And only when they're wet, if you can help it."

"What. Why."

"It keeps the curls together," Goldie said, "instead of separating them all into separate strands."

Mabel's eyes widened. "Wait, that's the secret?! I thought that's what expensive shampoos are for!"

"The expensive shampoos make it worse," he cheerfully informed her. He'd brushed Pacifica off and sat up, chin in hand and hair dripping over his shoulders, so he could talk to Mabel. "It strips off the grease your pores naturally excrete to lube up your hair and replaces it with manmade grease! Which is why your hair dries out when you stop using the fancy shampoo. It's a big scam!"

Mabel stared at him in shock; then asked, hesitantly, "My strawberry shampoo?"

"A dirty traitor," Goldie said. "It's one of those toxic friends that manipulates you into depending on them and then tells you you're nothing without their help! There's half a dozen chemicals you wanna avoid in shampoo—I don't remember all their names but I can draw their chemical structures, Sixer can translate 'em into English for you."

"What else am I doing wrong?"

"You shampoo your hair too often," Goldie said. "And blow dry it. Which is fine if you want to keep that dry frizz! But somehow I don't think you do!"

Okay—so he clearly did understand curly hair care. (Or at least, he understood it as much as Pacifica, whose knowledge came entirely from reading magazine articles that technically weren't aimed at her.) Then why didn't he do it?

Mabel dragged her hands down her face. "So all this time, I've been messing up your hair too? Goldiiie, why didn't you say anything!"

"I didn't really care!"

Pacifica said, "Okay no, I am not standing for this. Goldie, out. Mabel, sink. It's some kind of crime for me to know more about curly hair than you do. I'm showing you how to do this the right way."

Goldie sighed in relief and escaped as Pacifica subjected Mabel's hair to the faucet and comb.

####

(Here's this week's What Was Edited Due To TBOB summary: the pageant scene itself was already planned, but obviously, all the details—it's the day he was born, the mayor's there handing out knives and declaring it a holiday��came from the info we get on Bill's history via TBOB. Finding a way to make the knives make sense was fun. Nothing major in the rest of the chapter was changed.

Hope you enjoyed! Next week is more Pacifica!)

#(I'm forbidding myself from drawing backgrounds in chapter art until March)#(If i draw a background put a skunk in my inbox)#bill cipher #human bill cipher #(for the art & chapter)#pacifica northwest #mabel pines #(for the chapter even tho they aren't in the art. this is pacifica's chapter!!)#scalene cipher #(<- yknow what?? she gets a big scene too. might as well tag her.)#gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

305 notes · View notes

bellawoso · 10 months ago

Text

everywhere

aitana bonmati x reader

a/n : the sleeveless training top kills me every time i see it

aitana had been obsessed impressed with you ever since the 2021 games of barcelona vs arsenal, although she knew that she should be overcome by feelings of pride for her teams winnings, she couldnt help but let her small crush on you get in the way of her celebrations.

sure she was tired after the match, but so was everyone else, and they still managed to have a night out in the london bars. aitana however, spent all night stalking your instagram account on a random fake account she had, normal behaviour right?

after the 2022 euros knockout match, where england were victorious, aitanas crush which she thought was gone, came back even bigger when instead of immediately celebrating with your teammates, you instead went to the nearest spanish player to you, which happened to be the spaniard herself, and started consoling her. your hand on her back made her skin tingle, and momentarily she almost forgot about the loss when you whispered into her ear how she played a good game, before bringing her in for a warm embrace. aitana didnt waste the chance of wrapping her arms round your waist as yours went around her neck.

the brunette wouldnt be surprised if she dropped down with a heart attack right there when you requested for a shirt swap, with you both being number 6 nationally. seeing her name sprawled across your back definitely didnt ease her racing heart or her flushed cheeks.

———

the next time you saw the spaniard was at the world cup final, although you were out with your ACL injury at the time, you still wouldnt miss this match for the world. as soon as england lost you were straight onto the pitch, comforting your national teammates, who were about to see spain being crowned world champions.

you were just about to go talk to lucy, a close friend of yours from national camps, until aitana stepped in your path. you had grown quite fond of the girl, despite the fact you had never played for the same teams, you both respected each other greatly, and often congratulated each other through instagram of the others achievements. you werent quite ready for the girl stepping out in front of you, you were still on crutches, almost ready to come off them, the spaniard just clipped your crutch with her boot causing you to tumble forward slightly. luckily the brunette was ready to catch you, her strong arms gripping onto your waist whilst she repeated “lo siento” and lectured her self in spanish, until you cut her off “hola aita, good game you deserve this so much, i know how hard you worked to get here.”

“ah yes- gracias y/n, i am upset you dont play today, im sure you would have made a difference” aitana managed to get out, in slightly broken english but you found it extremely endearing.

“yes i am sad too, but i will be back for the euros before you know it! so, balon d’or huh?” you said with a grin, it was extremely obvious that the girl you was talking to was going to be a future balon d’or winner, despite her humble nature as she argued with you, saying there are other people who deserve it more than her.

until you cut off her rambling once again “aita it was so lovely catching up with you, but im positive all of your teammates are waiting for you to celebrate, i wouldnt want to keep you” you stated with a soft smile and a glance at ona who waited behind aitana, and seemed to have finished consoling lucy.

as aitana turned to walk away, you started walking over to lucy, painfully unaware of the extremely obvious glances aitana kept giving you over her shoulder, the spaniard prayed you didnt hear onas teasing.

———

it was around the start of december when you began playing again, helping by scoring 2 goals in the 4-1 win against chelsea. it was unsurprising how you had ended up on barcas radar, it was very unusual for a player to somehow be better than they were pre-ACL, after only just returning. it was safe to say that aitana had watched every single arsenal game since you returned, even on the ones where you didnt play, just to catch a glimpse of you on the bench. the other girls on her team had noticed this, and despite aitanas insistence that it was to keep up with the WSL and to check on laia codina, her teammates werent stupid. and it was painfully obvious every time aitanas breath hitched when you were displayed on the screen, which was quite often as you were a fan favourite.

you had also developed a bit of a fan-girling crush on the spaniard herself, it was hard not to when you saw her training pictures on her story daily, and couldnt help but wonder what you would have to do to be blessed enough to witness her training in real life.

clearly you didnt have to do much, as your manager called you one day to talk about potential transfers, one immediately stood out to you, barcelona.

it all happened very quickly in your opinion, although your manager disagreed as barcelona were actually being quite annoying with offering you a contract as they were constantly holding it until last minute. until finally they managed to sit you down with pen and paper, for you to begin your new journey with them. the media followed shortly after, barcelona and arsenal seemingly decided to just dump all of your departure and new arrival videos on every single social media platform they had.

aitana was at home when the media teams dropped your videos, immediately clicking on the notification from barcelonas instagram. she had been waiting for a while for keiras fully edited catalan interview to be posted, so she was visibly shocked when instead she was met with the sight of you in the barca home kit.

aitana definitely knew she was down bad when she couldnt fall asleep that night, her thoughts clouded of you in that stupid home kit, even better, in the barca tracksuit you had worn for your interviews.

she quickly sent you an short instagram message just to say ‘hola, welcome to barca amiga :)’ before finally managing to fall asleep.

———

your arrival was soon after, and despite your initial worry of not fitting in to the team, you soon learned that you got along fine with the girls after your first training session. from the very beginning aitana clung to you, immediately becoming your bestfriend on the team and promising to take you to all of the best hidden gems in barcelona. it was amusing to the team of how obvious aitana was being and how oblivious you were to it all.

such as the day where aitana was hit twice on the head by a football after not hearing the shout of “heads” while staring at you with heart eyes as you laughed with ona.

or when she was still running laps and warming up with keira whilst you had a 1 v 1 with lucy, and she ran into a goal post. she never truly lived that one down, and the whole team new about it as she had to go down to medical with a minor concussion and miss the next match due to her headache.

the bonus was that you were too scared to leave aitana at her apartment by herself after reading up about concussions online, so you stayed with her for a week. which was longer than necessary, but aitana didnt need to know the real reason for your insistence to stay.

the most recent thing to happen was when she dropped a weight on keiras foot in the gym when she saw you walk in, looking particularly good in the training kit today, this action made the english girl snap, telling aitana to just go admit her feelings, whilst cursing under her breath and walking to the medical room for an ice pack.

lucy came up behind aitana after keira left, chuckling about the previous incident but also to reassure the spaniard “dont worry aitana, ive known y/n for ages, she likes you back, trust me” she said, making aitana nod and turn on her heels to confidently and calmly walk over to you, as you were currently near the mats with ingrid.

except this didnt happen, as aitana didnt seem very confident or calm at all as she tripped as she neared you, causing her to stumble straight into you, sending the both of you tumbling straight to the floor.

“dios mío! lo siento y/n, i dont know what happened!” you stayed on the floor laughing about what just happened, as vicky came over “i think i know what happened, aitana just fell for y/n!” the younger girl shouted for the entire gym to hear like the pest she was, causing both you and aitana to flush bright red, still on the floor.

until aitana leaned over to you “while were still down here, will you please go on a date with me?” she asked giving her best puppy dog eyes.

“i would love to aita”

———

you and aitana went on the date on saturday, the brunette had chosen for the two of you to go to a coffee shop in the little town where she was raised, you could tell just how proud and passionate she was of where she was born. at first, things were a bit awkward between the two of you, until you fell back into your usual rhythm of chatting and laughing.

except for when aitana bumped into someone she knew from her youth, and stumbled a bit over her words when introducing you, the words “shes my girl-” coming out of her mouth before blushed cut her self off and ended up blurting out “y/n, shes my y/n” with an awkward, toothy grin.

this made you burst out laughing, at aitanas newfound social awkwardness, and the strangers confusion, it was only after they walked away that you playfully bumped your shoulder against hers, saying “if you wanted to be my girlfriend you could have just asked” with a smirk.

“cállate! muy molesta-“ as she carried on with her spanish rambling making you smile at seeing her worked up state until she suddenly asked “wait were you being serious that i can ask to be your girlfriend?”

“well normally back in england we dont ask the person for permission to ask them to be our girlfriend, but whatever suits you tana!” you answered back playfully.

“fine then! i wont ask if your going to be all sarcastic about it” the older girl replied. “sure you wont aita, sure.” taking a sip from your water bottle while the brunette seemed to be giving you the silent treatment

“be my girlfriend” she suddenly stated, making you choke on your water “thats really not how we ask back in england, spain must be very different” you thought aloud.

“stop it! just confirm it with me, we are basically dating all ready!” aitana huffed in faux frustration about how annoying you were being about this. “okay, okay! i would love to be your girlfriend then aitana.” this made her grin, so you were guessing you were in the good girlfriend books at the moment.

you and aitana went on many more dates after that, the two of you fit so perfectly. although you were both extremely talented footballers, aitana was always very work focused, whereas you got bored of things like match analysis very easily. where aitana was extroverted around new people, you were usually very quiet around strangers. you both balanced each other out very well, aitana often having to help you with your match analysis, and you being the one to get aitana to bed at the right time instead of letting her rewatch the match again.

———

one thing that aitana never really seemed to grow out of was the honeymoon stage, after two months of being together openly, she really should have got used to the fact that you were hers and she was yours. however, the spaniard never quite got over the fact that the two of you were actually together, especially after crushing in you for the past couple of years.

this led to her quite literally just trailing around after you everywhere, like a lost puppy. when you finally snapped and told her to go to keira, and socialise with her friends, said lost puppy suddenly became a kicked puppy that looked like you just abandoned it on the side of the road.

“but amorrrr, i wont bother you! i promise!” she begged, giving you her best puppy dog eyes.

“aitana no! you have hardly spoke to your friends all week, and although i love you, your starting to really annoy me!” you said. your girlfriend had already dropped a dumbell on your ankle after she decided she needed to do her arm workouts right next to your workout mat. she had then spilt coffee all over you, which although she claims is all okay now as she gave you her hoodie to replace your top, you never quite got over the sticky coffee feeling in your skin.

your last straw was when she decided to try trail right behind you into your meeting with jonatan and some of the other coaches, solely a checkup and a one to one meeting about things to work on in training.

“aitana no! go to keira please, i love you but this is a one on one meeting, your not allowed to be in here” you didnt leave time for her to argue as you quickly planted a kiss on her lips and went into the room, shutting the door straight behind you.

you were never normally one to reject your girlfriends clinginess, however sometimes you just needed your own personal space, and today was an odd day where things werent going right and your temper was short.

you were going to apologise to aitana, but as soon as you came out of your meeting she was there with flowers and coffee for you, and saying sorry for annoying you today. “aitana no, its fine, if anything, i am sorry. i love being around you as your my girlfriend, but i do think its important you start hanging out with your friends again!”

“yes amor i understand, i actually went with ona to get the flowers and she got some for lucy too!” aitana replied, as she planted a kiss on your lips.

on the way home, aitana also called at one of your favourite shops that sold books and records. despite her being more of a spotify and film person, she still made an effort to be enthusiastic in the shop. she definitely did not get bored and decide to pull you in for a kiss behind the non fiction book shelf.

however, she still never really left her honeymoon phase.

———

yourusername

liked by ingrid_engen, lucybronze and 23,962 others

caption: she follows me everywhere but its okay tagged: aitanabonmati

comments:

aitanabonmati: you love it

-> yourusername: i do.

lucybronze: you two make me throw up

-> yourusername: dont act like you and ona arent the same.

marialeonn16: i counted 3 balls to aitanas head yesterday training

-> vickyylopezz._: she fell over aswell 😭

-> yourusername: guys leave tana alone! 🥹

-> aitanabonmati: what my gf said.

user1: they are so cute omg 😭

user2: power couple!

user3: best woso couple there is

———

a/n: this is not proofread so no judgement to bad grammar pretty pleasee

#Spotify #woso #woso community #woso x reader #barcelona femeni #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni x reader #aitana bonmati #mapi leon #mapi león #ona batlle #alexia putellas #aitana #aitana bonmati x reader

531 notes · View notes

1lovewony · 11 months ago

Text

Fun in Fanmeet (Minju of ILLIT)

Minju x Male Reader (Y/N) Wort count: 2087 words Summary: A fan meeting leads to a fun experience for you.

You have been a fan of Minju ever since RU next; the way she has the visual and talent of a perfect idol is what captured your heart.

She has a unique voice, is a wonderful dancer, has a great personality, and lastly, has a gorgeous visual.

She indeed has such K-actress beauty that if she had pursued her acting career rather than her idol career, she would still flourish.

You’ve been playing the Super Real Me album 24/7, thinking of how this group started from being a nobody to a hit with their title song Magnetic. Eventually, a fanmeet has been announced in their official Twitter account. Reading through it, you saw a chance of having a one-on-one conversation with a member, but it was a random draw during the event. Nonetheless, the important part is to attend your favourite group and meet Park Minju. After the 150th album you just bought, you finally got a ticket for the fanmeet. A week has passed, and the day of the fanmeet is here. You’ve dressed as well as you can. You arrived early to the venue and chatted with some fans. And patiently waited for the fan meet to begin.

After some time, a staff member walked to the stage and announced that the fan meet was about to begin. Excitement rises in yourself; you're about to see Minju in real life. A loud cheer as the members each slowly walk. Yunah was dead gorgeous; same with Iroha and Moka. Then there’s the cutest Wonhee, but your eyes fixated on your princess, the queen of your dreams, the one and only Minju. The flower crown on her head makes her an angel that comes down from heaven to save you. Nonetheless, the fanmeet is starting with their hit song Magnetic. After that, they introduced themselves. Doing challenges, literally being themselves. Two hours have passed, everyone still has the energy to cheer, and the girls are still entertaining. But every event has to come to an end; eventually they draw the winner for the one-on-one convo. Since there are a lot of fans who attended, you thought that there's no chance you can win one, let alone win for Minju. But as the staff was picking the winner for Minju, they called in the person, but they had already left, so they redrawn again. This time, luck had come to you when they called your name.

Y/N is selected for Minju; please come right to the stage. You're dazzled by the announcement, and fans near you congratulate you for winning. You followed the instructions to come near the stage. They gave the five winners an envelope with the time and place where they could have a chit-chat with the idols.

For you, the time is from 10pm to 12 midnight; you thought it's kind of late for a fan meet. It feels like a date for you, which isn't a bad thing but suspicious nonetheless. And the meeting place is private, which makes sense since it's a one-on-one conversation. Arriving at the place, it seems so empty—just 2 bodyguards and 1 staff member. You greeted them and handed them the invitation. Welcome Sir. Y/N, congratulations! Enjoy your date with Minju. ? Huh, did I hear you right? They didn’t talk after that. You entered the place and saw a table for two with a couch right next to it. You didn't mind the place, but suspicion arises since you haven't heard anything for the past 5 minutes. Walking to the door, you noticed the bodyguards and the staff left. You heard footsteps walking toward the door. You instantly hide as if a murderer is on you. The door opened, and a girl walked in. Where’s the guy? Minju said,Umm hi! "Shock.” OMG, why are you there? Ugh, I thought someone was about to kill me. So you won the draw? Yes, I did. I am Y/N, btw, and sorry to startle you. Haha, no worries; it kind of seems like a dark place, right?

Yes, it is.

You two casually just talked to each other for half an hour. You noticed she texted her staff to bring the food. This is fun—she said, Oh, yeah, different from a normal fan meet. Yeah, um, I just noticed my staff for the food; I'm getting hungry. Are you not? Oh, before I got here, I had already eaten. The staff knocked on the door to deliver the food for the two of you. Thank you! Miss Minju, text again if you need something. Both of you munch the food the staff delivered, and deep inside of you is screaming as to how you got to eat with Minju.

After eating, she asked, Do you have a girlfriend or something? No, not at the moment, but you did have? An ex? Ye That's perfectPerfect? Well, I don't know if you're keeping up all this time. But you haven't just won a date with me; something else is better. Something else? Think Y/N; you're running out of time. Your head is full of confusion; you cannot think straight about what Minju just said. A lot of things are going on in your head. As you think, she stood up and got to the couch. Well, if you can't think of what I am referring to, you won't experience it. This just added to your confusion. Minutes passed, and you still can't think of what she's referring to. But then it hit. Is she giving a massage perk? I think I got it. Finally, you got it! But shouldn’t it be a flat bed rather than a couch? Huh? What? Are you thinking of massaging? Well, I can’t think of any. Ugh, you're too innocent but cute too. I like you, Y/N. But this isn't okay; it’s not massaging. Well, it involves massaging, but in a special way, and you're the massagist. Huh? Me? Are you saying random things? Did the food make you think less? Shibal, I can’t take you anymore. It’s so simple yet you can’t get to it. Sorry, it’s just my first time, okay? I don't usually go to Fanmeets. It’s my first time too. Ugh, fine, since you only have an hour with me, I’ll do it. What are you going to do? Have fun, fun with you. Ugh, Y/N, I want you to fuck me here. That’s the prize you won; you won me for 2 hours, babe. What are you on? Are you really Minju? She then pinned you down on the couch, like the captured food of a predator.

This is what you won; I am your prize. So get it now before your time runs out. Min... Minju, I don’t see you like that; I like you but not like this. Why are you so cute? You're making me regret this.What? She then slowly removes her clothes—the white dress and her safety shorts—leaving her in her underwear. You're perplexed by the sight you're seeing. She then goes close to you and unbuttons your shirt. Please be gentle, you said to her. She mirks, going for your mouth. Feeling her dessert to you. You just follow what she desires in you. You alright, she asked. Eyep, I am fine. Strip me, touch my body. Y/N, you earned it. Okay, just like that, good boy. You have a silky smooth skin, Minju. I never imagined this. You’re really my fan, right? You mentioned you watched me in RU next Yes, I am Alright, I am gonna suck your dick now Um, okay, I’ll be gentle, I promise She takes off your pants and briefs. Showing your hard cock to your favourite idol She was shocked by the length and girth you have. Wow, you're so big.

Thank you, I guess.

You gasped from the way she grabbed your rod, spitting on it as a makeshift lube. Slowly jaculating your dick. You are in ecstasy as seconds pass; you feel like you’re going to cum from just a handjob. Ugh, Minju slows down a bit. Am I reaching it already? I guess it's because of me. She slowed down a bit, but this time using her mouth. She kisses your tip, slurping her own spit on it. Tasting your pre-cum is like juice. She then takes it and swallows slowly, inch by inch, in her mouth. How is she good at this? You asked yourself. You thought this was why they'd debuted; they probably got used by the higher-ups. But you cleared that in your mind; you just thought of what is happening at the moment. Slurp.” Hmmm, I love your cock, Y/N. Its so big and juicy. I am glad you like it. I am getting close to it. She swallows all of it while looking at you, having the begging eyes like she's not satisfied. Alright, time to fuck me now, Y/N. You’re special since this is my first time with a fan. Are you not a virgin anymore? She nods, then gets up to align her freshly shaved pussycat with your dick. You feel your body losing strength as it enters the heavens of Minju. Oh my god, you’re so tight. I can’t believe I am inside you, Minju. Just like that, do you like it? Yes, I am getting comfortable now. That's what I want to hear. Now bring me your game. Yeah, fuck me all you want. She's in a cowgirl position on top of you, having the sight of a goddess and her small, cute tits. You moved your hips up, trying out how to fuck a girl.

I am not good! That's right. You’re hitting my G-spot. The face she’s making fuels you. The cute, innocent-looking Minju is now a cute, hottie, sexy girl, wanting to be fucked. After a minute, she told you to change positions. Ugh, maybe doggystyle? I don’t know my position. Hmm, do you want to see my face? Then I’ll lay here and insert it while looking at me. Alright, you did what she said; you have a full view of her from top to bottom. Now, deep in this state, you just want to taste every part of her. You carry her legs to your shoulder and lick her toes. Wow, getting bold, good boy. Just like that, lick my toes. You get close to her as your body starts to lose some energy; getting this close to her wants you to kiss her. You tried to get it, but she avoided it. Um, sorry, no kissing yet. Oh really, my bad. No, I want to cause you’re cute, but that's one of the rules. Okay, Another change of position led both of you to lay down on the couch. This time you can only see her back, but your cock is still in her. Ugh, like that, Y/N, I am going to stop. You want me to stop? No, she shouts, Okay, okay, continue to fuck me like this. You continue to go inside of her, eventually feeling that her walls are getting tighter. Hinting that she's cumming.

Yes, ughh, ohhhh, yesss, just like that, I am cumming, babe. I am about to cum too, Minju GOOD. Yes, cum inside me. Yes, you can cum in me. YES, just fucking cum in me Okay okay OHHHHHHH, Yes cum in me baby. Ugh, this is so good. After cuddling inside her, both of you were just silent on the couch. She then hugged you and kissed your cheeks.

Don't tell them I kissed you, okay? Okay, I won't. Hmm, how about we do this sometime again, but with no time restriction? You down? For real? Yeah, I like you, Y/N. Maybe we can do more. Oh, alright, give me your number. She then gets dressed, giving you a wink. She looks like nothing happened, but the atmosphere in this small corridor is screaming sex.

I had fun. Did you? Yes. Hopefully next time you win again, haha. Well, I will try. Alright, I’ll call you later. Okay. She then left as the time with her ran out. You stand outside thinking of the things that happened today; not only did you meet Illit and Minju, you have just had the best experience a fanboy has ever had.

Hmm, what happened to the other four guys? Fin. A/N: A late Birthday smut for my girl. Is this the first Illit Smut here? Not proofread cuz I am lazy. Also it got fucked halfway in terms of formatting.

#park minju #illit minju #illit #smut #male reader #fan meeting #illit x male reader

578 notes · View notes

thatstoomanysausages · 4 months ago

Text

Something about the winners in previous seasons being determined to help their allies become the winners. Scott in Double Life for Pearl and Pearl in Secret Life for Scar. They never really fought hard in the final battle with the intention to win again, they just wanted to see those close to them succeed.

But not Grian. Grian, who had lost his allies. Who had nothing left to protect. So he made it his goal to win, as if he hadn’t already, and as if it wasn’t an unwritten rule that one could never win twice.

Sure, he was close to Joel enough to ally with him, but he was determined to at least win, at least, that’s how he made it appear to others.

Because Joel was the closest thing he could get to having Mumbo and Skizz back as his teammates, and obviously, they weren’t about to win. So he didn’t target Joel while he was fighting, but instead focused on the others, taking out Pearl and letting Joel take out Ren and Cleo.

Grian had to make himself seem like the selfish winner who was out to gain another victory, to make it entertaining? To make himself feel better? To help Joel feel like he wasn’t making it easy for him?

His approach as a winner to become a 2nd time victor is so,,, to me. He’s desperate and he needs to win, but he knows he won’t, but he still made it to the top 2, and in a way, that was enough for him.

I just love when previous winners are part of the final 2 alive. It feels like they are there to bestow a crown on the next winner, to congratulate them on their victory, or to warn them of the guilt they needed to bear next, the pressure of the memories.

(Not that I intend to minimise the effort that the new winners put in, but to say it was a crazy coincidence to have the previous victors there for just a wing-it-and-have-fun series.)

223 notes · View notes

spencerrsmopbucket · 3 months ago

Text

Tides of Venom | Finnick Odair

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader Summary: During the Tribute Parade of the 3rd Quarter Quell, Finnick meets an infamous female tribute from District Seven. She's just as interesting as everyone says.

The people of Panem knew your name as well as, or maybe better than, they knew their own. You were Y/n L/n, or better yet, The Snake of Seven. The victor who had turned the 67th Hunger Games into a masterclass of strategy and survival. At sixteen, you were reaped from the sawdust-strewn streets of District Seven—a girl who looked too small, too quiet, too fragile and too beautiful to survive the bloodbath. But you had fooled them all.

You didn't survive by brute force, God no. You didn't have the size for it. You survived by being smarter, colder, and crueler when it mattered. You waited, watching from the shadows, letting the other tributes tear each other apart. When you struck, it was precise, calculated, and lethal. You weren’t just a fighter; you were a predator. You turned the arena into your hunting ground, weaving snares from vines and luring enemies into deadly traps. When you got them captured, like a rabbit in a trap on the snow covered ground, you quickly and efficiently did away with them.

By the time you’d reached the finish line of success, the area was soaked in blood — close to none of it yours. You had outlasted them all, and not just through skill, but by ensuring that every single thing you did was deliberate. Every alliance you made was temporary manipulation, every smile a well-placed mask. When the final cannon fired, it wasn’t just because you had survived. You had conquered.

The Capitol adored you, of course. They polished your image until you gleamed like the blade that had won you the crown. They said your name with awe and fear: The Snake of Seven. To them, you were the perfect mix of beauty and terror, a creature that captivated even as it threatened. Of course, your biggest fan was President Snow. But for all the Capitol’s praises, you knew the truth. The arena hadn’t just taken your innocence; it had carved out pieces of your soul and left them to rot in the jungle where you’d won. The nightmares came often, visions of the traps you’d set, the image of you slitting a throat, the screams that followed, and the sickening silence afterward.

Even still, you played the role you’d been given. It was that or die. It was that or lose your family (an ultimatum given by Snow.) The Capitol needed you to smile in your interviews, to look stunning in gowns designed to look like snake skin, to sip champagne with Snow’s favorites. You did it without flinching. You’d learned through the experiences of others before you that defiance came with a life ruining price. And so, with snake-like venom aimed inward at yourself, you were poisoned until only steel remained.

The 3rd Quarter Quell was nothing like any previous Hunger Games. It was a reminder of the Capitol's absolute power, and this year, they chose to mark it with a brutal twist: the victors, those who had already been crowned, would now be thrown back into the arena. Every single one of them—a brutal celebration of their own suffering. And you, The Snake of Seven, were no exception. When you'd been Reaped, you stepped forward, ever confident, your e/c eyes the sole vision of determination, focus, and bloodthirst. But you were always so good at keeping people at arm's length, never letting them see how you truly felt.

You were devastated. You felt doomed — but the worst part? You'd always known you were from the start. This was just the confirmation.

Today was the Victor Parade.

The streets of the Capitol buzzed with an unsettling energy. The crowd, with its eager eyes and gleaming teeth, watched as the tribute chariots rolled down the grand avenue, a parade of former winners paraded as if they were just another form of entertainment. The Capitol was reveling in their cruelty, and you knew, deep down, that it was more than just the games this time. The Capitol wanted to break the victors, to make sure they knew they were never free, never truly safe. You had survived the Games once, but this time, survival would come at a greater cost. You were by far the most thrilling tribute to watch, solely because they knew you'd do anything to win.

Your district partner, a tall, athletic and somewhat shy Victor named Reid, stood beside you. He was a few years younger than you, but his respect for you was evident in every glance. He had a crush on you. It was easy to see in the way his eyes lingered on you, the way his voice caught when he spoke your name. But, much like everyone else in the Capitol, you weren’t here for love or affection. You were here to survive—and if you had to, you’d use Reid’s infatuation to your advantage. But, you’d never admit it aloud.

Reid was a good fighter, but he wasn’t built for the Games like you. His focus was too soft, too sentimental, which made him vulnerable. He wanted you to recognize him as a friend rather than just a district partner. Rather than just an ally that you'd eventually have to turn on. But you? You knew. Reid would have to be the first to go. You'd put him out of his suffering before any other Victor could get their hands on him. In a cruel sense, it was you being kind. If anyone else got him, his death would hurt much more.

Your outfit, designed by Capitol stylists, was as extravagant as it was deadly. You weren’t just a symbol of beauty; you were a living weapon, and your outfit reflected that. The stylists had draped you in a shimmering black gown that hugged your form, slithering down your body like the skin of a serpent. Silver, delicate scales shimmered along the bodice, almost seeming to ripple as you moved. A thin, sharp line of emerald green ran across your eyes, reflecting the coldness that had taken root deep inside you. Your hair was twisted into a sleek, tight braid that framed your sharp features, the tendrils of the braid curling at the ends like snake’s fangs. The design was meant to evoke fear. To show that beneath your beauty was a creature that could and would strike. The Capitol admired you, but they feared you too.

As the chariot lurched forward, your eyes scanned the crowd—thousands of faces staring back at you, each person either adoring or shocked. The screams, cheers, and jeers mixed into a cacophony that only heightened the tension in the air. It was a celebration of blood, and your life was the prize. But you didn’t need their approval. You didn’t need their affection. You were here to survive—nothing more, nothing less. You forced your cold eyes forward, staring at the person that continued to ruin your life, over and over again.

Snow.

He gazed down at you with a lukewarm smile, one to say, 'welcome back, Snake.' You simply glared back, fighting the snarl that threatened to develop on your lip.

As the chariot rolled forward, you could feel Reid’s nervous energy beside you. His hands gripped the edge of the chariot so tightly that his knuckles turned white, his broad shoulders stiff as though he were bracing for an attack. His unease was palpable, and while you could sympathize with it, you didn’t have time to coddle him. This wasn’t his first Games; he should know better than to show fear in front of the Capitol. Weakness was blood in the water, and the Capitol’s sharks would circle the moment they saw it. It would draw attention to the two of you, something you didn't need more than you already had.

“Relax,” you muttered, your voice low enough that only he could hear. Your eyes remained fixed on the glittering horizon, refusing to meet his. “You look like you’re about to jump out of the chariot.”

Reid’s head snapped toward you, his expression a mix of surprise and embarrassment. “I’m fine,” he said, though the strain in his voice betrayed him.

“Sure you are,” you replied dryly. “Just remember, they’re not cheering for you. They’re cheering for the show. Don’t give them a reason to think you’re the opening act.”

Your words cut sharper than intended, but it was necessary. Reid needed to toughen up, and fast. This was no place for soft hearts or shaky hands.

The chariot came to a halt in front of President Snow’s viewing platform, and the crowd’s roar reached a deafening crescendo. Snow himself stood like a vulture on his perch, his thin smile radiating smug satisfaction. His presence was suffocating, a reminder that every move you made was under his watchful eye. You held your head high, refusing to let him see the disgust simmering beneath your carefully constructed mask. If he wanted a performance, you would give him one.

You stared at the other Victors. You knew who they were, of course, since you'd been paraded around with them before. The most notable ones were the ones from the Career districts -- and District 12. You saw Cashmere and Gloss looking disgustingly gleeful. They were District 1 Careers, always loving the attention they were getting and the idea of getting to put up a fight. Brutus and Enobaria, District 2, were the same way.

Your eyes lingered on the Careers for a moment longer, taking in their smugness, their overconfidence. Cashmere’s sharp laughter cut through the murmur of conversation, a high, shrill sound that grated on your nerves. She and Gloss stood close together, their matching golden armor glinting under the Capitol’s harsh lights. Their every move screamed superiority, a reminder that they had been bred for this, groomed for the arena like thoroughbred horses. You didn’t doubt their skill, but you also didn’t fear them. They were predictable, and predictability was a weakness.

Your gaze swept past them to Brutus and Enobaria, whose confidence bordered on feral excitement. Brutus’s bulk made him look more like a battering ram than a man, and Enobaria’s predatory grin, with her infamous sharpened teeth, was a haunting sight. They thrived in the chaos, their bloodlust an edge that couldn’t be underestimated.

But it wasn’t just the Careers you had to worry about. Your eyes flicked to Beetee and Wiress, District 3’s champions. The Capitol often overlooked them, mistaking their quiet demeanor for weakness, but you knew better. Their minds were their greatest weapons, and they could turn the arena itself into a deathtrap.

Then, blurring out the other Districts, there was District 12.

Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark stood together, the Capitol’s golden pair, their unity a sharp contrast to the division around them. Katniss’s stormy eyes locked with yours for a fleeting moment, and you could see the fire smoldering behind them. She didn’t trust you—good. Trust was a luxury none of you could afford. Peeta, on the other hand, exuded a calm that was almost disarming. Almost.

And then there was Finnick.

He sat casually in his chariot, his trident resting at his side, but there was nothing casual about the way his eyes roamed the area, sharp and calculating. His sea-green outfit, designed to evoke the beauty of District 4’s oceans, only served to heighten his allure. Beside him, Mags sat with quiet dignity, her frail form a stark contrast to his vibrant presence. Yet, there was strength in her weathered gaze—a reminder of the resilience that had carried her through her own Games decades ago. The Capitol adored Finnick, just as they adored you, but his charm was a weapon, honed and deadly, and Mags was his anchor, her mere presence a testament to the bond between them and the wisdom she carried into the arena.

His gaze caught yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. His lips curved into a faint smile—not the easy, flirtatious grin he reserved for the Capitol’s audience, but something quieter, more genuine. It was unsettling, that smile, because it felt like he saw through you, saw the armor you’d worked so hard to construct.

You broke the connection first, turning your attention back to Reid, who was fidgeting nervously at your side.

“Stop moving,” you muttered under your breath. “You’re drawing attention.”

“Sorry,” he murmured, his voice low and apologetic.

You sighed, the weight of his unexpected inexperience pressing down on you. If he didn’t toughen up soon, he would make you look foolish too. He didn't act like a Victor. And the rest did.

Snow’s voice crackled over the speakers, his tone smooth and syrupy as he addressed the gathered victors. “What a spectacular display,” he said, his words dripping with false sincerity. “You are all reminders of the strength and resilience of Panem. May the odds be ever in your favor.”

The room fell silent as the announcement ended, the weight of his words settling over you like a shroud.

Reid leaned closer, his voice barely audible. “What now?”

You glanced at him, your expression hardening. “Now?” you said, your voice cold. “Now we wait. And when the time comes, we fight.”

Finnick’s laughter rang out suddenly, drawing your attention. He was talking to another Victor, his posture relaxed, but his eyes flicked to you for the briefest moment. There was something in his gaze—challenge, curiosity, maybe even understanding.

You turned away, refusing to engage. Whatever Finnick Odair was playing at, you had no intention of getting caught in his game.

As the outro anthem of Panem played, you felt a shift in the atmosphere. Your gaze flickered to the chariot beside yours, where Finnick Odair stood, resplendent in a sea-green ensemble that glittered like sunlight on the ocean. His golden hair caught the Capitol lights, making him look every bit the god they believed him to be. But his expression wasn’t one of triumph—it was of quiet defiance, a subtle rebellion that only those who knew the arena could recognize.

When the anthem ended, the victors were led to the holding area behind the parade route. The Capitol’s cheers faded into a low hum as you stepped off the chariot, your gown shimmering with each calculated movement. Reid stayed close to you, his presence a reminder of the responsibility you didn’t ask for but couldn’t ignore. Capitol stylists swarmed you both, fussing over stray folds and imagined imperfections. You barely acknowledged them, your focus already narrowing on the other tributes gathering nearby.

"Reid," you muttered under your breath, your tone sharp but quiet enough to keep Capitol ears from catching it. "Stand tall, and stop looking like you're about to bolt."

He straightened, though his hands still twitched at his sides. You suppressed a sigh.

Before you could step further into the mingling chaos of tributes and Capitol elites, a voice laced with sugar-coated steel sliced through the noise.

“Well, if it isn’t the darling of District 7. You’re just as intimidating as they say.”

You turned to see Cashmere gliding toward you, her golden locks framing her face like a halo, though the icy gleam in her eyes was anything but angelic. Her gown shimmered like molten gold, every inch of her radiating Capitol-perfect elegance. But there was no mistaking the predator behind the polished façade.

“Cashmere,” you greeted, keeping your tone neutral, even bored. “You flatter me.”

“Oh, it’s not flattery,” she replied, her smile sharp enough to cut. “It’s admiration. You play your part so well. Cold, dangerous, untouchable—it’s a wonder the Capitol isn’t already throwing parades in your honor.”

Reid shifted uncomfortably beside you, his unease a palpable presence. Cashmere’s gaze flicked to him briefly, her smirk widening as if she found his nervousness amusing.

“Who’s your little shadow?” she asked, her voice dripping with condescension. “Does he speak, or is he just here to look pretty?”

Reid’s jaw clenched, but before he could stammer a response, you stepped in.

“He’s my district partner,” you said coolly. “Focus on yours.”

Cashmere arched an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the tension. “Protective, are we? How sweet. Though I can’t imagine there’s much point. If he’s anything like my dear Gloss’s partners, he won’t last long.”

You took a deliberate step closer, your gaze locking with hers, sharp and unyielding. “And yet, here you are, wasting your time on him—and me. Be careful.”

Her smile faltered for the briefest moment, the crack in her composure almost imperceptible. But then she laughed, a light, airy sound that somehow felt more menacing than genuine.

“Always the sharp tongue,” she said, tilting her head. “I suppose it’s what keeps you alive. Just remember, darling—words can only cut so deep. Out there, it’s the blade that matters.”

“Thanks for the advice,” you replied, your tone as biting as hers. “I’ll be sure to remember it when the time comes.”

Cashmere’s eyes narrowed slightly, the playful mask slipping just enough to reveal the steely determination beneath. “Do that,” she said, her voice a whisper of warning. “I’ll be watching.”

With that, she turned and strode away, her golden gown catching the light with every step.

Reid let out a breath he seemed to have been holding, his voice low. “What was that about?”

“Don't worry about it,” you muttered, watching her retreating form. “Everyone’s playing their own game. Hers just happens to be gilded in gold.”

The energy in the Capitol’s holding area was electric, each victor carefully eyeing the others, feeling the tension rise with every passing second. The air was thick with power and the weight of what was to come—the 3rd Quarter Quell was unlike any other, a twisted reminder of the Capitol’s dominance, and each victor knew they were not only fighting for their lives but for their dignity as well.

Reid stood close, his nerves still apparent, his eyes darting from one tribute to the next. You could feel his discomfort radiating from him, and though you didn’t have time to indulge him, you found yourself slightly irritated by it. This was supposed to be a place for cold calculation, not weakness.

“Take a breath,” you muttered again, your eyes scanning the crowd of tributes. “You’re making us stand out.”

“I—sorry, I can’t help it,” Reid replied, the sincerity in his voice mixed with frustration. “This place... It’s too much. I never imagined I’d be back here, much less be facing them again.”

You took a deep breath, letting the noise of the Capitol’s elites wash over you. It was a dull hum compared to the chaos of the arena, but the stakes here were just as high. You weren’t just a Victor anymore; you were the prey.

“I get it,” you said, your voice colder than before, but not unkind. “But you need to act like one of them. We’re not here for anything other than survival. And in case you haven’t realized, that means playing their game better than they do. Don't let them think you're weak, even if you think you are.”

Reid nodded, his jaw set in determination, though the unease still flickered in his eyes. You didn’t think he’d ever truly understand. His idealism would be his downfall, you could already see it. The Capitol’s games had broken you, stripped away your humanity, and in the end, it had made you stronger. You knew better than anyone that to survive in this world, you had to be willing to kill what remained of your soul.

As the seconds ticked by, the other tributes continued to mingle—some more comfortable than others. A few whispered amongst themselves, their eyes darting in calculated glances, while others stood proudly, basking in their newly cemented fame. You didn’t join them. You had no need to.

A moment later, a voice rang out in the distance, one that cut through the tension in the air like a blade—soft, melodic, but with an undeniable edge.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the infamous Snake of Seven.”

You didn’t need to turn to know who it was. His voice was unmistakable, like the sea itself, deep and quiet but filled with a hidden strength. Finnick Odair.

You met his gaze, not surprised to see him standing at the edge of the crowd, his trident at his side, the shimmering blue of his outfit contrasting with his golden hair. His green eyes gleamed, mischievous yet sharp. His dimpled smirk only deepened when he noticed the way you studied him—cold, calculating, as always.

“Finnick,” you replied coolly, your voice betraying no emotion, even as your insides clenched. “I didn’t realize the Capitol was still fascinated by my name. I thought they’d moved on to the next little toy.”

His smirk only deepened, his eyes never leaving yours. “Oh, they’ll never tire of you,” he said, his voice dropping slightly, almost like a whispered secret meant only for you. “Not with your reputation. It’s not every day that the Snake of Seven steps into the arena, is it?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You sound almost impressed.”

“Well, who wouldn’t be?” Finnick’s tone was casual, but there was an edge to it that made the words feel like a challenge. “The odds of you making it this far... I’m curious how you’ve done it.”

You could feel the weight of his words, the curiosity in them. There was something in his gaze that felt like he wasn’t just talking about the Games anymore. His eyes raked over you, not in the way the Capitol admired his victors, but like he was trying to peel away the layers and understand the person standing in front of him.

“Survival,” you answered simply. “It’s not as hard as people make it out to be. If you’ve got the right instincts, the right drive, you can make it through anything.”

“And you’ve got both,” he said, his voice quiet but unmistakably admiring. “I can see it. But I think there’s more to you than that. More than just the survivor everyone sees.”

You didn’t give him the satisfaction of a response, just holding his gaze as the crowd around you continued to buzz with their typical Capitol energy. There was something about the way he looked at you, though. Like he wasn’t just sizing you up as a potential ally or foe, but like he was seeing through to something deeper. And it unsettled you.

“You’re not one to mince words, are you?” you asked, your voice sharp, trying to redirect the conversation, but you could feel the pull of it all the same.

“Why bother?” Finnick’s expression softened just the slightest bit, his eyes glinting in a way that made you wonder if there was something he wasn’t saying. “This game’s already full of lies. We don’t need to add to it.”

You leaned in slightly, lowering your voice. “And what would you suggest, Finnick? That we just lay it all bare? Is that what you think is needed to win this?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Maybe. Or maybe the truth is the only thing we’ve got left.”

The words hung between you, a quiet tension settling in. His gaze didn’t waver, but something in his stance softened, almost imperceptibly. For a moment, you saw past the Capitol’s golden boy, the victor who had charmed his way into the hearts of millions. You saw the man who had fought in the arena, who had survived the same twisted game that you were now part of. And for a fleeting second, there was a vulnerability in his eyes, something raw and unspoken.

“You know the game better than anyone,” you said quietly, your tone softer now, the challenge gone. “But we’re not all playing by the same rules, Finnick. I don’t think you understand that.”

His smile faded slightly, and he tilted his head. “Oh, I understand more than you think. But you’re right. Not everyone is playing by the same rules. And that’s why I’m curious about you.”

You didn’t respond immediately, the weight of his words sinking in. There was something in the way he said it that made you feel like a puzzle he was dying to solve. But you wouldn’t make it easy for him.

“Curious about me?” you repeated, stepping closer to him, your voice low but firm. “Why? Because I’m a challenge? Or because I’m something you can’t control?”

He didn’t flinch, didn’t back down. If anything, he took a small step forward, closing the gap between you. “I don’t want to control you,” he said, his voice steady. “I want to understand you.”

The words were simple, but they carried an undertone of something that felt more intimate than anything you’d heard in a long time. His eyes searched yours, the playful mischief replaced with something darker, something more serious.

You almost faltered. Almost.

"Then understand this," You lean in, boring your eyes into his. "When you lean into the face of a snake, it sinks it's teeth in."

Finnick’s eyes gleamed, a flicker of admiration dancing in the depths of his gaze. His smirk only deepened as you leaned in, the challenge clear in your words and your posture. He didn’t flinch, didn’t back down—if anything, the tension between you only seemed to grow.

He paused, taking a slow breath before responding, his voice low and even, carrying a hint of something darker beneath the surface.

“Well, I’ve always been a fan of a good bite,” Finnick said, his tone smooth, but there was an edge to it now, like the words themselves were an invitation, a dare. He stepped just a fraction closer, narrowing the distance between you with a kind of quiet, deliberate confidence. “But don’t mistake my curiosity for weakness. If you sink your teeth in, be sure you’re ready for what comes after.”

His eyes never left yours as he said it, the unspoken challenge hanging heavy in the air, and for a moment, you could almost feel the pulse of something dangerous, something thrilling, between the two of you. Finnick Odair wasn’t afraid of a fight. But neither were you.

Finnick’s gaze lingered on you a moment longer, his lips curving into a more playful smirk as he took another slow step back. But the mischievous glint in his eyes told you that he wasn’t done with you yet.

“I have to admit,” he said, his tone lighter now, but no less charged. “You’ve got grit that I wasn’t expecting. Most people would’ve backed down by now, but not you. No, you’re… interesting.”

He took another step, the air around you thick with an undeniable pull. “You know, I like a good challenge. But you,” Finnick continued, his voice dropping an octave, “you’re something different. Something… unpredictable.”

He leaned in just slightly, his breath a faint whisper against your ear. “I’ll admit, I’m curious to see what else you’re capable of.”

You glare at him as he leans away.

"Curiosity killed the cat, now didn't it?"

Finnick’s grin only widened at your sharp retort, the gleam in his eyes turning into something almost predatory. He didn’t seem offended—if anything, your challenge made him more interested.

"Maybe," he mused, his voice soft, playful, but still with that underlying edge. "But I’ve never been one to shy away from danger. And I’m not the type to get caught in a trap either." He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the game between you two.

He tilted his head, studying you for a moment, his green eyes flickering with amusement. “You’re quick with your words, but I have a feeling you’re not just all talk.”

His gaze traveled from your eyes to your lips, lingering just long enough for it to be obvious, before returning to your gaze, the tension between you thick enough to slice. “Tell me, what else do you have up your sleeve, hmm? Because I’m starting to think you’re not just some venomous snake. There’s something else there… something more.”

He stepped closer again, close enough that you could feel the heat of his body, but not quite enough to touch. The space between you seemed to shrink with each word, with each look, and it was becoming increasingly clear that Finnick wasn’t just teasing anymore. He was genuinely intrigued.

"You’re right," he continued, his voice dropping lower. "Curiosity might’ve killed the cat, but satisfaction, well, that’s what makes it all worth it, don’t you think?" He let the words hang in the air between you, daring you to respond, to challenge him once more.

Finnick was getting closer to you now, but there was no rush in his movement—he was taking his time, savoring the moment. The air between you felt charged, a magnetism that was impossible to ignore.

“Just remember,” he added softly, his lips yet again dangerously close to your ear, “you started this game. And I’m not the type to lose."

With that, Finnick Odair strode away, looking over his shoulder to give you one last dimpled smile.

314 notes · View notes

milunalupin · 4 months ago

Text

— five golden rings

james potter x reader ★ 1.4k words

twelve days of nico-mas masterlist

It was a snowy evening at the Potter household, and the flickering fire in the hearth cast a warm glow across the cozy yet chaotic living room. The group of friends had gathered around a large wooden table, piles of snacks and drinks scattered about, ready for their annual holiday game night. Laughter echoed in the space as everyone settled into their seats, teasing one another about who would be crowned the ultimate winner.

James Potter’s house was big, a sprawling manor on the outskirts of Godric’s Hollow, but tonight, it felt small, filled with the warmth of friendship and the buzz of excitement. His parents were away for the holidays, so the house was all theirs.

James stood next to the table, holding a stack of cards, trying his best not to look nervous. His heart raced, and he stole a glance at you, seated next to Lily on the far side of the table. You were laughing at something Sirius had just said, your eyes sparkling in the firelight. James swallowed hard, trying not to let his cheeks turn red. The Marauders all knew about his feelings for you—hell, they’d been teasing him about it for months—but he hadn’t managed to muster the courage to actually talk to you about it.

Lily caught his glance and raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. She knew, of course, but she wasn’t about to let him off easy. Marlene, seated next to her, leaned over to whisper something in her ear, and the two girls exchanged an amused look. James couldn’t help but feel the heat of their eyes on him, but he quickly tried to distract himself with the cards in his hand.

“Right then,” Sirius said, clapping his hands together, “let’s get this party started, yeah? We’ll start with a round of Exploding Snap and see who has the fastest reflexes.”

James glanced over at you again. You were fiddling with your hair, a quiet, content smile on your face as you chatted with Peter about the dish you'd brought for dinner. He wanted to make you smile more. He’d been daydreaming about ways to make you laugh, but every time he tried to speak to you, his mouth went dry.

“James!” Sirius called, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Are you going to play, or should I just call dibs on the first round?”

“Right, right!” James replied, shaking his head. “I’m in. Let’s go.”

The game began, and almost immediately, it was clear that Marlene and Lily were the most competitive of the group, their eyes locked in intense concentration as they faced off against each other. James, however, couldn’t help but keep sneaking glances at you, trying to act casual as he shuffled the deck of cards.

As the game progressed, James found himself in an unusual position—shifting the cards in his hand, acting as though he was focused on the game, but really, he was just trying to help you. If a card came too close to your hand, he’d nudge it toward you just a bit, without anyone noticing. If the pile of exploding cards in front of you looked like it might get out of hand, James was the first to warn you.

“You’re doing great,” he said quietly, under his breath, as the game reached a fever pitch. “Just don’t touch the card on the left, trust me.”

“I knew I could count on you, Potter,” you said, your tone teasing, but friendly.

James felt his cheeks warm, and he looked away quickly, feigning concentration on his cards. He was so caught up in his own internal battle—should he be so obvious? Did it matter if everyone knew he liked you?—that he almost missed the card that jumped out of the pile and exploded in front of him.

“Merlin’s beard!” he yelped, ducking as the card went off with a loud bang, sending sparks into the air.

The room erupted with laughter. Even Peter couldn’t hold back his giggles as he reached out to pat him on the shoulder. “Nice one, Prongs,” he teased. “I guess that means you’re out for the round.”

James groaned, rubbing his ear, and shot you an apologetic glance. “I swear, I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

You just laughed, shaking your head. “It’s all good, James. I think you’ve helped me enough tonight anyway.”

He smiled back at you, his stomach doing flips at the sound of your laughter. As the rounds continued, James found himself increasingly wrapped up in small gestures to help you win, each one carefully subtle—leaning over to fix your cards, tossing you a sweet treat from the kitchen when he thought no one was paying attention, even dropping a little hint about strategy when the other weren’t paying attention. He wasn’t being obvious—at least, he hoped he wasn’t—but he couldn’t help himself.

Finally, after a few more rounds, it came down to the fifth and final game with Marlene, Sirius, Remus, and you left. There would be a prize of 50 galleons for the winner. The group had decided to take a quick break before beginning the finale. James stayed by your side, giving you you an encouraging smile.

“Don’t worry, you’ve got this,” he said quietly, leaning in toward you again.

You shot him a soft grin, one that made his heart race. “Thanks, James,” you said, “I’m going to need all the help I can get.”

James’s mind raced. He wanted to tell you how he felt. Wanted to tell you that the little things he’d been doing all night—helping you with the game, finding excuses to sit near you, passing you bits of food—were all because he couldn’t help it. He liked you. More than he had ever liked anyone. More than he had ever been brave enough to admit.

He looked at Remus out of the corner of his eye, who gave him an encouraging nod. He knew his taller friend was right. If he didn’t do this now, he might regret it forever.

"James?" You glanced up at him, sensing the change in the air. "You okay?"

"Yeah," James managed to say, though his voice came out softer than he intended. "I, uh... actually, I wanted to tell you something. You know, if you’ve got a second."

You looked at him with a warm smile, clearly intrigued.

"You’ve got my full attention, Potter."

James cleared his throat, suddenly nervous. “It’s just… well, I’ve been thinking for a while, and it’s now or never, isn’t it?” He glanced down at the table for a moment, then back up at you, locking eyes with the person who had unknowingly been occupying his thoughts for months. “I like you. A lot. I know I’m not the most... smooth with these things, but I just thought you should know.”

There was a beat of silence. Then, to his surprise, you smiled—the kind of smile that made his heart feel like it was about to jump out of his chest.

“I’m glad you said something, James,” you said, your voice gentle but sure. “Because I like you too. And you’ve been making it pretty obvious all night.”

James blinked, stunned, as the reality of your words sank in. "Wait, really?"

"Really," you confirmed with a soft laugh. "All those little gestures, the way you always look out for me. I wasn’t exactly blind to it, you know."

It felt like the room had faded away, and there was nothing left but the two of you. The warmth from the fire, the laughter of friends, the soft crackling of the hearth—it was all background noise to the quiet, exhilarating moment shared between you and James.

“So, what now?” he asked, a hesitant smile tugging at his lips.

You reached out, placing your hand gently over his. “How about we start by winning this game together?”

James chuckled, feeling lighter than he had in ages. “I think that sounds like a perfect plan.”

Sirius, who had been pretending to mind his own business but clearly listening in, smirked and raised his hands in mock defeat. “Well, I see how it is. James gets the girl, and I’m left here losing fifty galleons. Typical.”

The group laughed together, the atmosphere lighter than ever. But James couldn’t stop smiling—he had finally said what had been on his heart, and it felt like everything had fallen into place.

— taglist ♥︎

@willowlovestheweasleys

#twelve days of nico mas #marauders #marauders era #marauders x reader #james potter #james potter x reader #james fleamont potter

180 notes · View notes

reccyls · 7 months ago

Text

Villain's Festival 2024 (Team High Nobility) - Amusement by the nobility, for the nobility

My translation of the team story (William, Elbert, and Victor) for the 2024 election yes this is really really late, i forgot i owned this orz

---

The one to steal Kate's heart would be the winner of the special bonus from the Queen. As the competition begun, three elegant and refined members of Crown gathered together in the castle.

William: The battle for the bonus, was it? What an interesting idea.

Elbert: ....Ah.

William: Oh, Elbert. Rare to see you in the hallways.

Victor: Why, if it isn't William and Elbert! Victor: Lady Luck must have guided me down this path so I could meet the two of you. And so... Victor: How about we have some tea together?

...

William: The tea you brew is as delicious as ever, Victor.

Victor: I'm honored. Oh, and do try the scones as well.

(glass breaking)

Elbert: ....?

William: What is it, Elbert?

Elbert: ...I think I heard the sound of something breaking inside the castle.

William: That must be everyone else having quite a lively battle right now. All to capture Kate's heart.

(more glass breaking)

Elbert: Ah... That was a window on the second floor.

William: As long as they're having fun. William: Anyway, a broken window here or there is good for ventilation.

Victor: ...And the cost for repairs will be coming out of my own pocket money... Victor: Well, what matters is that everyone is enjoying themselves!

Elbert: ...Are you two fine with sitting out of the contest?

William & Victor: Of course not.

Elbert (surprised): ....

William: There is simply no reason to rush into things.

Elbert: Why not?

William: The contest lasts for the entire day. William: The winner is whoever has managed to steal Kate's heart pendant by the end of the day. William: At any rate, you certainly have no intention of giving Kate up either, do you? Elbert, the covetous queen.

Elbert: Not at all.

Victor: I completely agree with William. Victor: Although, perhaps one of the reasons we're all so laid back is because we're all rich.

William: Always so scathing, Victor.

Victor: You make it sound like I'm some kind of foul-mouthed scoundrel, Will! I'm just saying the truth, aren't I? Victor: You and Elbert both have your own properties and assets you manage. Victor: And I-- whoops, that's top secret.

Elbert: ...Are you also nobility, Victor?

William: Who knows? This man is so full of mysteries that we'd be here until the sun goes down before we even get close to unraveling them all.

Victor: A. Ny. Waaaaay... we'll all just steal Kate's heart at our leisure, and with utmost elegance, won't we? Victor: It's important to always keep noblesse oblige in mind.

William & Elbert: That's right / ...Yes.

Victor: So, how about another cup, William? Elb-

Kate's voice: AAAAAAAHHHH!!!!

Victor: What a mess!* Was that Kate's voice just now? *This is actually what he says in-game

William: It was indeed our lovely little robin's cry.

Victor: Oh dear~! Let's go see what happened!

Elbert: It came from that direction. Elbert: If anything happened to her... I won't fogive who hurt her.

William: Heh, seems that the ennui has disappeared. William: Well then, let's go and take back our Kate.

...

William: Kate, we heard you calling.

Kate: William! And Victor and Lord Elbert too. Kate: Jude, Roger, and Alfons agreed to team up with each other. Kate: They caught me once but I managed to slip away, but I'm pretty sure they're still chasing me.

William: I see. Elbert, we leave Kate to you.

Elbert: Right... Kate, come here. Elbert: ...Don't leave my side for a second.

Kate: O-okay.

William: And now. Victor, how shall we serve those three up?

Victor: Do you even have to ask? Victor: Well done, of course.

...

Jude: Damn it, can't find that woman anywhere.

William: Hello, Jude. That's quite a lovely glare you're sporting today.

Jude: Tch. Of all the times for this annoying bastard to crop up...

William: And this annoying bastard would like to invite you to dinner. What's your answer?

...

Alfons: Was that Jude angrily cursing just now?

Roger: If you have the time to wonder about that, then just look for Ka- Roger: ...Wait, these footsteps...

Victor: How do you do, my lovely Cursed Ones?

Roger: ...Victor.

Alfons: Oh my, Lord Victor. You look like you're in high spirits today.

Victor: I can overlook the broken windows. My generosity is as boundless as the sea, after all. Victor: But, since you've bothered Kate... it's time for some punishment, no?

Alfons & Roger: ...Uh oh.

...

Kate: Thank you so much for saving me from that nonsense!

William: What matters most is that you're unharmed.

Victor: It's rare for William to go all out. Victor: We just narrowly avoided turning the corridors into a sea of blood. What a naughty boy ♪

William: Aren't you far more naughty than I am?

Victor: Oh, stop it. You'll make me blush with that kind of praise.

Kate: "A sea of blood"... Kate: Did I ask the wrong people for help?

Elbert: ...Don't worry about it. It's better that you don't know.

Kate: ...?

William: Kate has been safely retrieved. William: And the three of us worked together to ensure that. However... William: What should we do from here?

Elbert: ...What do you mean?

William: Our ultimate goal is to win Kate's heart and receive her necklace, isn't it? William: So that makes us all each others' rival.

Victor: You aren't wrong.

Elbert: ...I want it. The necklace... and Kate too.

William: It's passé to use brute force to win.

Victor: In that case, to make it fair, why doesn't Kate decide the winner?

Kate: Huh, me? Kate: I don't know if I could make a good judge...

William: I once read a fairytale from the Far East. William: The princess of the moon was being courted by several men, and so she issued them a quest. William: "Whoever finds this object and brings it to me shall become my husband."

Victor: What a wonderful idea! Victor: We'll look for whatever it is Kate wants, and whoever can bring it to her wins.

Elbert: ...Kate. What should we get for you?

Kate: Umm. In that case... Kate: Find something that will make me smile... I guess?

...

Elbert: ...Something to make her smile... Elbert: ...... Elbert: ....Oh.

(leaves room)

Elbert: ...Will? And Victor.

William: From the expression on your face, it looks like you have the same idea as the both of us.

Victor: Yes, it certainly does.

Elbert: ...Let's go see Kate.

...

William: Little robin, we have found what will make you smile.

Kate: "We"?

William: Would you lend me the heart necklace you're wearing for just a moment?

Kate: ...? Um, sure. Here you go, Will.

William: Though the necklace is in my hands now, the prize belongs to all of Crown.

Victor: We'll use the bonus money to throw a party for you and everyone else.

Kate: Really?

Elbert: ...Yes. Elbert: What will make you smile is... being able to have fun and spend time with everyone. Elbert: Isn't that right?

Kate: Yes! Exactly! Kate: Thank you, everyone.

William: .... William: Indeed, that is the most precious thing in the world, that no amount of money can buy.

#ikemen villains #victor (ikevil)#william (ikevil)#elbert (ikevil)#my translation

161 notes · View notes

starry-night-rose · 11 months ago

Text

Glimmering Soirée

Summary:

Here ye! Here ye! It’s now time for ball season here on Sage’s Island! Students have been gossiping all year about the Glimmering Soirée, a night of revelry between the two schools that both inhabit Sage Island. Each year, one school hosts the other! Treating the guests as royalty. There’s dancing, music, delicious food and...a competition. This competition is to find the Belle of the Ball and to award them with honors such as a crown, scepter, and more! The faculty of both schools vote on the winner of the title. This year, it’s NRC’s turn at hosting, let’s see how well they do

Four Students are chosen as the Princes who are to act as the hosts of the event. They are to be princely, amicable, and welcoming to the guests of the ball. It’s chosen by chance by the Headmaster. The Princes are trained in the art of dance, conversation, and hosting. The Princes chosen this year are Malleus Draconia, Deuce Spade, Azul Ashengrotto, and Kalim Al-Asim. The Princes also partipate in the voting of the Belle of the Ball as well

But where do yuu fit into this? Our lovely Ramshackle prefect and their trusty feline-looking sidekick have a special position, given to them by our kind Headmaster! Yuu are here to help the princes out! And who knows, maybe your hard work won’t go unnoticed.

Rules

Everyone is free to participate! From Ocs to Yuusonas to even canon characters, anyone can participate!

Content Rules: Keep it PG-13!

How to participate in the event: You’re free to write fics, make art, make character sprites, and just about anything else you can put your mind to!

Tag the posts with a #glimmering soirée and make sure to credit/@ me in the post!

This event has no deadline at the moment which means you have all the time you need to get to work! However, this might change later on!

Outfits

At the Glimmering Soirée, a dress code is in order! It’s an elegant event so fine clothing is a must! Below are some ideas of what you’d find guests wear at the ball!

You can wear anything you wish but must be in the colors

Blue

White

Silver

Black

Gold

Entries

Ellis | Gwen | Stella

Malleus | Deuce | Azul | Kalim (coming soon...)

Rodrigue and Cybele ( @valse-a-mille-temps )

Character Cards

Mariah ( @slumberingprincessblog )

Yuhua | Groovy ( @distant-velleity )

Case and K. Oswald Junior 101 ( @k-looking-glass-house )

Juno | Groovy ( @br3adtoasty )

Albert ( @the-trinket-witch )

Joker | Nana ( @twstinginthewind )

Helena | Gia & Grim | Beau ( @ramshacklerumble )

Saga ( @revivemyreverie )

René | Rémi | Emil ( @tixdixl )

Licht ( @tsurenity )

Jocia | Yuu Shi ( @boopshoops )

Emmanuel ( @sleepyheadincoulds )

Yuno & Yume ( @emillydepiatti )

Emmiline ( @shinysparklesapphires )

Yume ( @comingyourlugubriousness )

Jewel ( @jewelulu )

Kiyuu | Groovy ( @skriblee-ksk )

Stolas ( @luxstring )

Jess ( @jovieinramshackle )

Luxolite ( @ice-cweam-sod4 )

Yuu ( @st4rz666 )

Marvolo ( @zetsubobu )

Yuusha | Groovy ( @crystallizsch )

Cecil ( @lostonesart )

Charlotte ( @akemiozawa )

Pleaide ( @valse-a-mille-temps )

Moira ( @obsoleteozymandias )

Eira | Groovy ( @kwaiibbart )

Aiyuu ( @twistedsongstressofstarz )

Chris ( @selfinserttothestars )

Daisy ( @midnightmah07 )

Ashlynn ( @wonderlandhour )

Yukchi ( @imdonelikerlly )

Yuya | Groovy ( @cheerleaderman )

Vesper | Cyrus ( @twst-stupid-ocs )

Elyssabeth ( @cookie-arts )

Hopper | Groovy ( @amatsuchan-eiliniel )

Via | Yuki ( @galacticstationsblog )

Sophie ( @gl00myb3arz )

Jasir ( @acidsugar21 / @gl00myb3arz )

Teddy and Yuu/Robynne ( @yuus-sentient-teddy )

Citlali ( @tired-robo-mask )

Yuuval ( @/twisted-drawritings)

Mim (@/13thfairytale)

Canon Characters

Rook ( @apieceoffoliage )

Epel ( @robo-milky )

Jamil ( @crystallizsch )

Ace ( @spade-12 )

Grim ( @yuus-sentient-teddy )

Fanfiction

Chandeliers and Fireflies ( @stephiethewephie )

Edits (coming soon...)

Backgrounds

Below is the background that you’re free to use to make your character cards! Note: The Background belongs to Disney while I just did the edits

And now

Enjoy the Ball!

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst fan event #fan event #twisted wonderland fanevent #ellis clawthorne #gwendolyn schnee #stella vega #glimmering soirée #first event woah....#twst fanevent #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst

393 notes · View notes

eloise175 · 8 months ago

Text

IT’S CALLISTO REGULUS DAY WRAAAGH!! The whole crowd cheered for hours on end because it’s time to celebrate one of the best male leads of all time

STAY STRONG CALLISTO!! You still owe Penelope (and the whole fandom) that love confession 🫵 we finally get to see him as a pathetic little mess of a man, what a time *sobs*

Anyhow, happiest birthday to our favorite unhinged Crown Prince who shall forever wear that winner’s smile of his because he comes out winning no matter what <3

He knows he’s better than all these flops, the competition was nonexistent for him from the beginning because he knew he’d get the girl no matter what lmao

Let’s all admire his blinding smile because it won’t come for a long time after Penelope’s poisoning accident drops…husband is gonna be worried sick and we shall suffer with him T_T

#what a time to be a Callisto fan #damn this man can’t catch a break #he suffers and we follow along #happy birthday Callisto!!#callisto regulus #villains are destined to die #vadd #(non official tags):#death is the only ending for a villainess #death is the only ending for the villainess #el’s rants

143 notes · View notes

euniexenoblade · 5 months ago

Text

Choose Your Own Smutty Halloween Adventure - Round Three (Final Round)

"Hello everyone! Before getting started with our final round today, if you're new to this smut series, I recommend you go back and read The Prologue, Round One, and Round Two!"

"How did you do that?"

Mordred squints at Delilah. "Do what?"

"You just spoke links. How did you do that? Is this an online story....is this even real?"

"No, no, no, that's too much unnecessary sentience for you."

A hooded figure appears and shocks Delilah with their stun baton once again. Delilah falls to the ground groaning.

Mordred looks back into the camera with a smile. "And with that handled, welcome back to The Fucking Game! We're in the final round! Soon a winner will be crowned! Who will win? Lilith the Demon Queen?!" The camera pans to Lilith, who waves to the crowd while everyone cheers. "Or will it be Priscilla the Ghost Girl?!" The camera pans to Priscilla, which acts bashful and hides her face while everyone cheers.

"At the end of our next vote, we'll know who wins the delightful Delilah, sex toy extraordinaire!" The camera pans to Delilah, who is still groaning unconscious on the ground.

"And, now last week you voted how the contestants will will your hearts and your votes, let's see how that vote turned out!"

"Pffffft" Mordred looks into the camera with a smirk. "Of course you'd vote for the trans woman to top. How typical." The crowd laughs. "Well, no more waiting, let's get to it!" The crowd cheers.

A curtain falls, blocking your view of the set. Shuffling is heard from behind it. When the curtain finally rises again, the game show set is gone. In it’s place is….an ordinary bedroom. The walls are a similar color to the droll white of Delilah’s home, there’s no furniture except for a giant bed and a couch on the opposite side of the room. On the couch sits Priscilla and Mordred (who waves at the camera), but on the bed is the real sight to behold. Lilith, The Demon Queen herself lays there in black lingerie, the straps of the bra making a pentagram shape. And, in the middle of the room, between the bed and the couch, stands Delilah.

Delilah looks around the room, taking it all in. It’s very bare, just the couch and the bed. And a door. Delilah bolts to the door to escape, no one chases her. She tries the knob, but it doesn’t turn. She twists and twists and hits and kicks the door, but it doesn’t budge. “It’s not a real door, ya dork. It’s a set.” Mordred says mockingly from the couch.

Delilah refuses to believe it, she had so much hope, she needs to escape now, so she keeps banging on it and twisting the knob, despite knowing the truth. On and on she goes, that is until Lilith walks up behind her, wrapping one of her muscular arms around Delilah’s midsection and sweetly says to her, “Am I really that scary? Do you really fear me so much you can’t reciprocate my love?”

The line about love shocks Delilah so much that she stops wrestling with the fake door. Her hand shaking on the knob, she slowly turns her head to look Lilith in the face, directly into her black and red eyes. “You….you love me?”

“Of course I do...why would I do all this to be with you if I didn’t?”

Delilah is taken aback by the Demon’s sincerity. “I just...I uh...I…” she can’t bring proper words to the surface. How does she respond to a love confession from a demon? Looking to avoid awkward eye contact, Delilah tries to look down, now noticing what Lilith is wearing, more specifically noticing her demonic cleavage and the outline of Lilith’s giant cock in her panties. Delilah’s cheeks flush red.

“Come back to bed with me. You’re in control this time. You’ve been put through so much, why not have an enjoyable time?” Delilah looks up into Lilith’s eyes, showing the demon the tears building in her own eyes. “You control this, so you can actually cum instead of being left frustrated now~” Lilith giggles.

Delilah nods. Lilith guides her back to the bed, only gently tugging her by the hand. When Lilith lets go of Delilah, she crawls across the bed slowly, making sure Delilah can see her ass in the sexy lingerie as much as possible. The tease is effective, Delilah is rock hard, and she crawls into the bed after Lilith. When she reaches the Demon Queen, she gets ready to pull her panties down, but hesitates. “Is it...is this really ok….”

Lilith laughs, “I want you to do it.” Now having permission, Delilah pulls her panties down and tries to mount Lilith. However, Lilith is just too big for Delilah to get a proper hold on to penetrate. She shifts from being on her knees to a squat to having on leg on her knee all until Lilith laughs and says “We can just frot.” With this Lilith flips over, her legs spread, her giant cock erect and waiting.

Delilah is a tad disappointed, she wanted to try penetrating Lilith still, but she was aching to cum and was ready to go at it any way possible. Delilah crawls on top of Lilith until their cocks touch, her head only coming up to Lilith’s tits. Lilith laughs and pops her tits out of her bra, putting her hand onto the back of Delilah’s head and lightly pushing Delilah’s head into one of her breasts. Delilah accepts this push and grabs Lilith’s left tit with one hand and starts to suck on it. Lilith takes a deep breath in, “Good girl….now thrust your hips” Delilah listens to what she’s told and thrusts, rubbing her cock against Lilith’s, leaving her in pure ecstasy.

And Delilah thrusts again. And again. And again. Moving fast and faster. She’s getting into it. She’s controlling the situation. She switches which tit she’s sucking on. Delilah is enjoying herself so much, the pleasure feels otherworldly. But, she’s not the only one enjoying herself, Lilith is moaning just as loud and enjoying herself tremendously. Delilah’s body is dripping sweat all over Lilith and the bed, but neither notice, they’re both preoccupied with the moment they share.

It’s finally time. Delilah can feel the pressure building. She’s finally going to cum. After everything shes been through in the last round, she’s finally getting there. She speeds up her humping, while breathing heavily in between Lilith’s breasts. She’s so close. Almost there. Almost. It’s going to pop.

“Stop.”

Delilah’s body stops moving, or rather it refuses to move. She needed one more thrust to cum, but now Lilith’s claws were in her head again, possessing her body.

“I….I-I-I thought I was in c-control?”

“You believed that? Cute.”

“Wh-wh-what”

“I had you wrapped around my finger the whole time! I can’t believe you thought I’d let you cum, HA! Now stand up.”

Delilah’s body does as it’s told, she stands up next to the bed, nice and still waiting for the next command. Lilith crawls off the bed and walks over to the couch. Mordred and Priscilla are clapping and cheering. “Encore! Encore!” Mordred yells. Lilith plops onto the couch next to Mordred (Mordred now in the middle).

Lilith sinks into the couch, “Ugh, it actually felt really good.”

“Well, rest now Lilith, cuz it’s Priscilla’s turn now!” And with this statement, Priscilla disappears from the couch and appears on the bed. Her ghostly, see through body now in equally ghostly, see through lingerie.

Priscilla lays on her side, one leg up while the other lies flat, her head resting on her hand, “So are you going to fuck me or what you silly thing~”

Delilah stands there. “N-no!”

“No?” Priscilla says it like she’s genuinely hurt.

“W-we did this once before! I won’t feel anything! I’ll just be humping air and all of you are going to make fun of me! I’m sick of it!”

The outburst is passionate. But, when Delilah finishes, Priscilla starts to cry. Her moans and wails loud and unearthly.

“With crying like that you’d think she’s a banshee.” Mordred jokes to herself. “Say, Lilith, wanna help out?”

Lilith snaps her fingers. Delilah feels herself losing control of her body again, still under Lilith’s possession. “Fuck that ghost.”

Delilah starts to bend down and crawl across the bed against her will, the sight of this makes Priscilla stop crying and get excited – she had clearly been fake crying. Once Delilah gets to Priscilla she tries to loop her fingers around the sides of Priscilla’s panties to pull them down, but her hands just go through her. Delilah tries again and nothing. “Oh, you silly girl, let me help you.” Priscilla slides her own underwear off, her legs going through Delilah as she lifts them to do so. “This is what I get for hooking up with someone three hundred years younger than me, brash and inexperienced!” Priscilla giggles like a school girl after her joke.

Delilah doesn’t laugh however, instead her body just moves to fuck the ghost. She tries to put her hand on Priscilla’s shoulder, but her hand just goes through the ghost. Despite this, Delilah doesn’t readjust, she just makes sure she has good support for her body and shoves her erect cock into Priscilla’s ghastly ghost pussy. “Be careful, it’s still pretty new~” Priscilla brags.

Mindlessly Delilah thrusts into Priscilla. Priscilla let’s out loud moans and gets very into it, trying to move her hips into Delilah as Delilah retracts during her thrusts. Delilah, however, doesn’t have the same experience. She feels nothing. For her it’s like humping the air. No pleasure, just exerting energy for nothing. Her body moves on its own, controlled by the Demon Queen, Delilah trapped in her own brain watching herself be humiliated.

“If I could get even a little control, I could hump the bed under her at least” Delilah thinks to herself. But aloud all Delilah does is breathe heavy from all the humping. Shoving her cock into the ghastly gash again and again. Priscilla moans and moans and moans, enjoying her time. She looks Delilah directly in the eyes and reaches her hands out, going inside of Delilah, once again grabbing her lungs like in their last meeting, turning off Delilah’s ability to breathe. Despite a lack of air, Delilah’s body doesn’t stop humping.

“You’re such a good girl, you know that? Despite getting nothing out of this, you just keep going to make sure I have a good time.” Delilah starts letting out pained gasps for air, but her body doesn’t stop moving. “You are such a great toy, and if I were to have you, this would be your life. Humping for eternity, no climax, doesn’t that sound fun?” Delilah’s consciousness starts to fade, but her body keeps going. Priscilla laughs and lets go of Delilah’s lungs. Delilah gasps for air, taking in giant breaths now that she can. “I’ll give you special permission to cum as long as it’s inside me sweetie. If you don’t cum inside me, you’re never allowed to cum. I want all of my toy’s cum, you understand?” Delilah does understand. She’ll never cum again. There’s nothing to feel, nothing to get Delilah off, she’ll just spend her whole life humping the air.

After what feels like an eternity to Delilah, Priscilla let’s out dramatic, long moans as the viscous, light colored ectoplasm starts squirting out of Priscilla all over the bed and all over Delilah. Lilith snaps her fingers, giving Delilah control back, but after all the movement and lack of air, Delilah has no energy to hump and just falls flat into the bed. “Oh sweetheart, you’re not done yet.” Priscilla pushes Delilah’s head down, her hands actually affecting Delilah, until she’s face level with Priscilla’s goo covered slit. Priscilla grabs Delilah by the hair and pushes her head into her, forcing Delilah to lick her ectoplasm covered cunt. Even though the possession has been released, Delilah does as instructed, her will beaten down so much that she just doesn’t care. She breathes in the sweet smell and licks Priscilla clean – or as clean as she can get a ghost covered in ectoplasm anyways.

And it’s on this scene that we finally see the curtain fall again. Shuffling can be heard behind the curtain. When the curtain finally rises, the game show stage has reappeared, but there’s no chairs and no wall. Now Delilah sits on her hands and knees, a metal collar around her neck attached to a chain that’s in Mordred’s hand. On either side of Mordred are the two contestants.

“Wasn’t that fun readers? You got to see what happens when a pathetic sex toy tries to top!”

The crowd cheers.

“Now, we’re reaching our end! One final vote readers! Who gets to own our delicious Delilah forever?!"

#long post #smut #cyosa

93 notes · View notes