#meanwhile every time he touches me even the tiniest bit i feel like i’m going to explode

[priestfrommidnightmass]

in other news i had a theory that i would like being hit by anyone like maybe this reaction i have could happen with anyone and it’s just inherent. however today i hit my friend and she hit me back (she asked me to i didn’t just do it out of nowhere lmfao) and all i felt was moderately annoyed LOL. so that’s really good for me and definitely not a further sign that it’s all so fucking dire

[missjanjie]

Taste of a Poison Paradise | Chapter 4

Title: Taste of a Poison Paradise Summary: Life at Jackie Cox’s strip club, Poison Paradise, isn’t just lapdances and g-strings. There’s enough drama, lust, and heartache to rival any soap opera. None of the girls know what to expect on any given shift, especially while navigating their torrid, complicated relationships. Word Count: ~3k (this chapter) / ~12.1k (total) Relationship(s): Lemyanka (Lemon/Priyanka), Crygi (Crystal Methyd/Gigi Goode), Sportsdoll (Jan Sport/Nicky Doll), Jaidie (Jaida Essence Hall/Jackie Cox), Branjie (Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo), Kamjie (Kameron Michaels/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo), Rosnali (Rosé/Denali Foxx) Rating: E

Read on AO3 | Ko-Fi

Chapter Summary: Brooke Lynn and Kameron finally meet, Denali starts spending more time at the diner, Jaida starts her OnlyFans, and Gigi realizes she can’t avoid her feelings for Crystal forever.

-

Vanessa has never been the best at focusing all of her attention on one task. Often, when she was dancing on stage, her mind was in three other places. It was a little more obvious when giving a lap dance, but most men didn’t seem to mind or even notice. Except for this time when she called attention to it by stopping mid-gyration and exclaiming, “holy shit!”

The man wasn’t annoyed, instead, he curiously looked behind him. “What? What happened?”

“Some dude’s getting hauled out of here, dumb fucker’s trynna put up a fight. Fly ain’t undone so he must’ve been getting too handsy,” she observed, though her eyes were honed in on Kameron, who took the offender down and dragged him out of the club. “God damn, she’s good,” she murmured, fanning herself.

“Wouldn’t it be more effective to have a man–”

Vanessa decided she was no longer interested in what the client had to say, and was already walking towards the front of the club, getting a better view as Kameron unceremoniously tossed the man out of the club. “What’s his damage, huh?”

Kameron shrugged. “Jan flagged me down, dickwad kept trying to play grab-ass and started throwing a temper tantrum when she cut his dance short,” she explained, then looked over at the bar. “Looks like Nicky’s taking care of her now, though.”

“I’m tryna take care of you, though,” she winked. “You know, take you into the VIP room and…”

“I’m still on the clock, Vanjie,” Kameron gently reminded her, but looped her arms around her waist. “But once our shifts end, we can go in the back and play grab-ass instead, okay?” she offered, punctuating her point by moving her hands down and squeezing Vanessa’s ass.

Vanessa huffed and pouted, but nodded nonetheless. “Fine, but you know how impatient I get.”

Kameron chuckled and kissed her cheek. “Don’t I always make it worth the wait?”

She couldn’t argue with that, so she went back and did her next set, alternating between being on the stage, among the clientele, or waiting in the back. It was the late shift, at least, meaning she and Kameron would be able to clock out at the same time.

There were still about ten minutes left before closing, but Vanessa had considered herself done for the night. She tied her robe around her waist and sat beside Kameron until the last customer left the club. “Fuckin’ finally,” she murmured.

Kameron snorted. “You’re such a fucking brat,” she teased.

Vanessa smirked, getting up and pulling Kameron with her. “You knew what you signed up for, boo. Bratty as hell, but you know I make it worth your while.”

“Well, I can’t argue with that logic,” she chuckled and allowed Vanessa to drag her across the club, back to the VIP room. Then, she scooped the smaller woman up in her arms and carried her to the couch, gently dropping her on it before crawling on top of her. “I bet you’re expecting me to take care of you now, huh?” she purred, kissing at her neck.

“We ain’t here to talk politics,” Vanessa retorted, already trying to tug off Kameron’s shirt and grinning when the taller woman acquiesced.

Meanwhile, Brooke Lynn had done a lap through the club, stopping at the bar with a perplexed expression. “Pri, is Vanjie still here? I told her I’d come to pick her up.”

Priyanka shrugged as she loaded up a tray of glasses to take into the back. “She’s probably still getting pounded out by Kameron in the VIP room,” she told her before taking the tray into the kitchen.

At first, Brooke figured Priyanka was joking, trying to get a reaction out of her. But as she sat and thought for a moment, she realized that there was no reason she would lie about that. She thought she would feel some semblance of jealousy or anger, but they were noticeably absent. Instead, her curiosity – and perhaps arousal – was piqued. She got up from the bar and made her way into the VIP room, quietly opening the door and slipping inside.

Just as Priyanka had predicted, Kameron and Vanessa were in the midst of a passionate encounter. They were both naked and Kameron had one hand loosely wrapped around Vanessa’s throat, the other was steadily thrusting two fingers in and out of her while she showered her with a mix of praise and dirty talk.

Brooke’s eyes widened. She couldn’t have predicted how it would feel to watch her girlfriend having sex with another woman, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away. Still not announcing her presence, she moved to the loveseat perpendicular to the couch and let her legs spread. She hiked up her dress and dipped her hand into her panties, biting her lip as she touched herself to the sight.

“You just gonna sit there and enjoy the show?”

Vanessa’s words caused the other two to stop in their tracks. Kameron looked confused while Brooke froze in place. “You knew I was here?”

Vanessa scoffed in response. “You think I wouldn’t recognize my woman’s pumps click-clacking from a mile away?” She didn’t wait for a response before she continued, “you want in or not?” She nudged Kameron lightly, who nodded in agreement.

Brooke scrambled to her feet, shedding her dress as she moved over to the two of them. She finished stripping down before kneeling beside Vanessa and kissing her languidly. “You want me to sit on your face, baby?”

Vanessa nodded enthusiastically, helping Brooke position herself on top of her and grabbing onto her thighs for balance. Her nails dug in as she eased her tongue into her, trying to match the pace of Kameron’s fingers.

“Shit, that’s it, baby. Such a good girl,” Brooke praised, her head tilting back as she moaned out. But when she held her head upright, her eyes locked with Kameron’s and she didn’t think, she just kissed her heatedly, smirking a bit as she felt the other woman melt into the kiss.

Kameron balanced one hand on Brooke’s shoulder while she thrust her fingers steadily into Vanessa’s pussy, alternating now and then to rub her clit with her thumb. Although the brunette was stifled verbally, it was very obvious when she came. She sat back on the couch, getting herself off while she watched Brooke ride Vanessa’s face.

Brooke’s hips stuttered to a halt as she rode out her orgasm shortly after, then gracefully dismounted off of Vanessa, then sat on the couch. “You know,” she said to Kameron, “I’d been meaning to reach out and get to know you, but this method is a lot more fun.”

------

Denali leaned against the jukebox, humming along to ‘Those Magic Changes’ until she saw Rosé walk in, which prompted her to relocate to sitting at the counter. “I thought you said your shift started at ten.”

“Today’s Tuesday, babe. I start at ten on Wednesdays,” Rosé replied as she tied her apron around her waist. “But it’s cute that you waited for me,” she winked.

“I had to, muñeca,” Denali insisted with a pout. “No one else makes the coffee as good as you do.”

Rosé couldn’t help but laugh softly as she got a pot of coffee going. “It’s the same shit every time, Dee,” she pointed out. But still, she had to look away and focus on the coffee to hide the broad grin that spread across her face. She poured a mug, setting it down in front of Denali. “What’re you eating, today?”

“You, ideally,” she murmured under her breath before looking up at her and replying, “patty melt, extra crispy onions, please,” while batting her lashes. “And a side of fries.”

The waitress nodded, scribbling the order onto the notepad. “You got it, baby,” she hummed, ripping the page out and hanging it up in the window, then ringing the bell for someone in the kitchen to come grab it. “So, how’re you liking the club? I’ll tell you, Jackie is the only person around here I’d trust running a place like that.”

Denali smiled, adding two packets of sugar and a splash of milk into her coffee, stirring slowly before taking a sip, though her eyes never left Rosé. “I mean, of all the strip clubs in the city, I’m glad I managed to find the one run and entirely populated by lesbians. You can’t plan for that sort of luck.”

Rosé snorted softly. “Guess not. You live in the neighborhood?”

“Nah,” she shook her head, “moved to Flatbush from Chicago.”

“Chicago, huh? You get into any fights with anyone over pizza yet?”

Denali shook her head. “Can I tell you a secret?” she leaned in closer, speaking in a stage whisper, “I’ve always liked New York-style pizza better.”

Rosé leaned in closer when Denali did, their faces only inches apart, close enough for her to take in the scent of her perfume – something woody and spicy with a hint of something heady, something almost as intoxicating as she was. “Oh, she’s a culinary rebel, huh?”

She let out a soft breath of laughter, biting down on her lip. “It does sound kinda hot when you say it like that,” she mused. The distance between them seemed to lessen, albeit by the tiniest bit at a time. But then she became aware of the background noise. “You have an order in the window, I think.”

Sure enough, one of the cooks had been ringing the bell for several seconds in an attempt to get Rosé’s attention. “Oh shit,” she laughed, turning and grabbing the plate, setting it down in front of Denali. “Enjoy,” she winked.

“I sure will,” Denali grinned and batted her lashes, her eyes following Rosé as she went to wait on another table. She gazed at her from across the restaurant. She would make a move, she thought, as soon as the moment was right.

------

Jackie stepped out of her office and noticed Jaida on her laptop in the common area. “Whatcha working on, honey?” she asked, sitting down beside her.

“The next great American novel,” Jaida told her. “Nah, I’m finishing up my OnlyFans page. Denali gave me a crash course in how to get this shit done right. Turns out it’s more than just taking what I do on stage and doing it in my room for a camera.”

“I mean, you’re welcome to make whatever content you need to on the stage or whatever if it helps,” she offered with a slight smile. “Anything I can do to help, let me know, okay?”

Jaida smiled warmly. “You’re the best, Jackie,” she tilted her head in thought for a moment before continuing, “maybe you could review the content before I post it? I’ll know it’s ready for the public if it has your seal of approval.”

Jackie nodded, ignoring the warmth that rushed to her cheeks. She nodded quickly, enthusiastically. “Oh my god, yeah. I’m honored you trust my judgment like that.”

“Hey, you stocked this club with top-tier bitches, you’re clearly onto something,” she offered with a reassuring grin. “Check it out, though,” she turned her laptop towards Jackie, “she’s open for business.”

Jackie leaned closer to the laptop, committing Jaida’s username to memory. “Impressive, I’m sure this is going to go over well for you.” She got out, smoothing out her skirt. “I have to take care of some paperwork, you alright from here?”

Jaida nodded. “All good, do your thing,” she said and waved her off. After Jackie retreated into her office, she continued working on her page. She was sitting in silence, which was why she jumped when she realized she was no longer alone a few moments later. “Fuck, how did you do that?”

Gigi shrugged. “I’m not convinced I’m not a Victorian ghost that’s taken corporeal form.” She kicked off her heels and turned to sit cross-legged on the couch, facing Jaida. “Listen, babe, I can smell an ulterior motive from a mile away. You’re trying to show off for Jackie, aren’t you? What’s the tea?”

“Guess it does take one to know one,” she murmured, reclining into the couch and letting out a sigh. “Yeah, okay, maybe I am into Jackie,” she conceded, “but unlike you, I have a good reason for not acting on it – she hasn’t been out of the closet all that long, I’m not tryna bombard her with shit, you know? It’s a delicate situation.”

“My situation is delicate too,” Gigi insisted, only to sigh and quietly add, “okay, maybe not as much, but still. So you’re just gonna wait it out?”

Jaida shrugged. “I don’t wanna freak her out. You, on the other hand, are crushing on someone that popped out of the womb with Doc Martens on, so you have no excuse.”

Gigi flopped onto her back and let out a dramatic sigh. “I know, I know. I just wish there was a way to just… send out some feelers, you know?”

“I cannot fathom how someone can dance naked in a cage one minute and not be able to look a girl with a One Direction tattoo in the eye the next. Literally, all you gotta do is take that confidence you got in the cage or on stage over to Miss Crystal Methyd, it ain’t that complicated, sis,” she did try to stop herself from talking to her like it should have been obvious – Gigi was almost ten years her junior, she had to remind herself. “You just need to try to stop overthinking,” she added in a more calm and gentle tone.

It wasn’t that Gigi didn’t know that, it was simply much easier to think about than to implement. “I know you’re right,” she murmured and sat up. She looked at her phone, chewing on her lip. “Okay, I’m gonna do something before I talk myself out of it,” she decided and stood up. “I’ll report back to you.”

“Good luck, my lil ghost baby.”

Gigi took a deep breath as she walked downstairs to the main floor. Crystal hadn’t arrived yet, so she perched herself on the bar as she waited, swinging her legs and fumbling with the hem of her skirt. Her head popped up when she heard the door open and her heart started to race when Crystal came into her field of vision.

“Hey Geege,” Crystal greeted, playfully tugging Gigi’s ponytail as she walked behind the bar.

“Hi Crystal,” she replied with the lilted laugh that was only ever elicited by the bartender. She reminded herself of Jaida’s words as she got off the bar and followed Crystal behind it. Just use your stage confidence. Picture yourself naked, she reminded herself. “You’re looking hot today.”

Crystal arched her brow. “Thanks? It’s just my usual uniform,” she shrugged and smiled. “You look hot though, but you always do.”

“Thanks,” Gigi twirled her hair around her fingers, batted her lashes, she was doing all of the textbook flirtations she could think of, but she stopped just as quickly, frowning. “Fuck, why does this feel so weird?” she asked herself, but out loud.

Crystal’s perplexed expression deepened. “What are you talking about?”

Gigi groaned and stomped her foot. “I’m trying to flirt with you, but I don’t know how to flirt with someone I actually like because I haven’t in so long. But you’re here and you’re just… fuck, this was supposed to be easier.”

The confusion on Crystal’s face morphed into pensiveness. She was quiet for a moment, then took a few steps towards Gigi. “I’m gonna kiss you now, unless you stop me.” She waited, giving her ample time to back away or speak up. Instead, she got a quick, eager nod. So, she gently cupped Gigi’s face, pressing a deep kiss to her lips.

And Gigi melted into the kiss, relief washing over her body as her arms draped around Crystal’s neck. Her leg went up like the girl in every single rom-com she’d watched and for a moment she felt like she was sixteen, having her first kiss behind the school while cutting gym class. The magic of the moment was only broken when she sensed they were no longer alone. She turned with a glare. “What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ us,” Lemon retorted, gesturing between herself, Jan, and Vanessa. “We’ve been waiting for this to happen for ages.”

“You kind of owe us a satisfying conclusion after subjecting us to your mutual pining fuckery you subjected us all to,” Jan nodded in agreement. “We’ve been along for this whole journey whether we wanted to be or not.”

“What they said,” Vanessa chimed in for the sake of being included.

Gigi rolled her eyes, though she did not attempt to let go of or move away from Crystal. “You guys are so fucking weird,” she muttered. “But I guess it’s kind of endearing or whatever,” she added reluctantly.

“We’ll leave you guys to finish your moment,” Jan said gently, guiding Lemon and Vanessa out of the main room and upstairs to the common area.

Crystal watched them leave, then looked back at Gigi. “I love our friends,” she grinned.

“I could take them or leave them,” she joked. “Look, we don’t… need to put a label on this or anything just yet. I know this was sudden… I just needed you to know how I felt.”

“You’re overthinking things again, aren’t you?” Crystal looped her arms around Gigi’s waist. “Listen, I know you only allow yourself three emotions a year, so it means a lot that I got to be on the receiving end of one of them. And like, I’m pretty bad at talking about feelings too, so… I dunno, let’s just see what happens.”

Gigi exhaled in relief. This was why she had gravitated towards Crystal so effortlessly, they understood each other, they were on the same wavelength. “So… how about you come back to my place after work? We could get high, pretend to watch some movies…”

Crystal pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. “It’s a date.”

[artificialqueens]

Taste of a Poison Paradise, Chapter 4 (Multi) - Joley

Chapter Summary: Brooke Lynn and Kameron finally meet, Denali starts spending more time at the diner, Jaida starts her OnlyFans, and Gigi realizes she can’t avoid her feelings for Crystal forever.

ao3 link

Vanessa has never been the best at focusing all of her attention on one task. Often, when she was dancing on stage, her mind was in three other places. It was a little more obvious when giving a lap dance, but most men didn’t seem to mind or even notice. Except for this time when she called attention to it by stopping mid-gyration and exclaiming, “holy shit!”

The man wasn’t annoyed, instead, he curiously looked behind him. “What? What happened?”

“Some dude’s getting hauled out of here, dumb fucker’s trynna put up a fight. Fly ain’t undone so he must’ve been getting too handsy,” she observed, though her eyes were honed in on Kameron, who took the offender down and dragged him out of the club. “God damn, she’s good,” she murmured, fanning herself.

“Wouldn’t it be more effective to have a man–”

Vanessa decided she was no longer interested in what the client had to say, and was already walking towards the front of the club, getting a better view as Kameron unceremoniously tossed the man out of the club. “What’s his damage, huh?”

Kameron shrugged. “Jan flagged me down, dickwad kept trying to play grab-ass and started throwing a temper tantrum when she cut his dance short,” she explained, then looked over at the bar. “Looks like Nicky’s taking care of her now, though.”

“I’m tryna take care of you, though,” she winked. “You know, take you into the VIP room and…”

“I’m still on the clock, Vanjie,” Kameron gently reminded her, but looped her arms around her waist. “But once our shifts end, we can go in the back and play grab-ass instead, okay?” she offered, punctuating her point by moving her hands down and squeezing Vanessa’s ass.

Vanessa huffed and pouted, but nodded nonetheless. “Fine, but you know how impatient I get.”

Kameron chuckled and kissed her cheek. “Don’t I always make it worth the wait?”

She couldn’t argue with that, so she went back and did her next set, alternating between being on the stage, among the clientele, or waiting in the back. It was the late shift, at least, meaning she and Kameron would be able to clock out at the same time.

There were still about ten minutes left before closing, but Vanessa had considered herself done for the night. She tied her robe around her waist and sat beside Kameron until the last customer left the club. “Fuckin’ finally,” she murmured.

Kameron snorted. “You’re such a fucking brat,” she teased.

Vanessa smirked, getting up and pulling Kameron with her. “You knew what you signed up for, boo. Bratty as hell, but you know I make it worth your while.”

“Well, I can’t argue with that logic,” she chuckled and allowed Vanessa to drag her across the club, back to the VIP room. Then, she scooped the smaller woman up in her arms and carried her to the couch, gently dropping her on it before crawling on top of her. “I bet you’re expecting me to take care of you now, huh?” she purred, kissing at her neck.

“We ain’t here to talk politics,” Vanessa retorted, already trying to tug off Kameron’s shirt and grinning when the taller woman acquiesced.

Meanwhile, Brooke Lynn had done a lap through the club, stopping at the bar with a perplexed expression. “Pri, is Vanjie still here? I told her I’d come to pick her up.”

Priyanka shrugged as she loaded up a tray of glasses to take into the back. “She’s probably still getting pounded out by Kameron in the VIP room,” she told her before taking the tray into the kitchen.

At first, Brooke figured Priyanka was joking, trying to get a reaction out of her. But as she sat and thought for a moment, she realized that there was no reason she would lie about that. She thought she would feel some semblance of jealousy or anger, but they were noticeably absent. Instead, her curiosity – and perhaps arousal – was piqued. She got up from the bar and made her way into the VIP room, quietly opening the door and slipping inside.

Just as Priyanka had predicted, Kameron and Vanessa were in the midst of a passionate encounter. They were both naked and Kameron had one hand loosely wrapped around Vanessa’s throat, the other was steadily thrusting two fingers in and out of her while she showered her with a mix of praise and dirty talk.

Brooke’s eyes widened. She couldn’t have predicted how it would feel to watch her girlfriend having sex with another woman, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away. Still not announcing her presence, she moved to the loveseat perpendicular to the couch and let her legs spread. She hiked up her dress and dipped her hand into her panties, biting her lip as she touched herself to the sight.

“You just gonna sit there and enjoy the show?”

Vanessa’s words caused the other two to stop in their tracks. Kameron looked confused while Brooke froze in place. “You knew I was here?”

Vanessa scoffed in response. “You think I wouldn’t recognize my woman’s pumps click-clacking from a mile away?” She didn’t wait for a response before she continued, “you want in or not?” She nudged Kameron lightly, who nodded in agreement.

Brooke scrambled to her feet, shedding her dress as she moved over to the two of them. She finished stripping down before kneeling beside Vanessa and kissing her languidly. “You want me to sit on your face, baby?”

Vanessa nodded enthusiastically, helping Brooke position herself on top of her and grabbing onto her thighs for balance. Her nails dug in as she eased her tongue into her, trying to match the pace of Kameron’s fingers.

“Shit, that’s it, baby. Such a good girl,” Brooke praised, her head tilting back as she moaned out. But when she held her head upright, her eyes locked with Kameron’s and she didn’t think, she just kissed her heatedly, smirking a bit as she felt the other woman melt into the kiss.

Kameron balanced one hand on Brooke’s shoulder while she thrust her fingers steadily into Vanessa’s pussy, alternating now and then to rub her clit with her thumb. Although the brunette was stifled verbally, it was very obvious when she came. She sat back on the couch, getting herself off while she watched Brooke ride Vanessa’s face.

Brooke’s hips stuttered to a halt as she rode out her orgasm shortly after, then gracefully dismounted off of Vanessa, then sat on the couch. “You know,” she said to Kameron, “I’d been meaning to reach out and get to know you, but this method is a lot more fun.”

——

Denali leaned against the jukebox, humming along to ‘Those Magic Changes’ until she saw Rosé walk in, which prompted her to relocate to sitting at the counter. “I thought you said your shift started at ten.”

“Today’s Tuesday, babe. I start at ten on Wednesdays,” Rosé replied as she tied her apron around her waist. “But it’s cute that you waited for me,” she winked.

“I had to, muñeca,” Denali insisted with a pout. “No one else makes the coffee as good as you do.”

Rosé couldn’t help but laugh softly as she got a pot of coffee going. “It’s the same shit every time, Dee,” she pointed out. But still, she had to look away and focus on the coffee to hide the broad grin that spread across her face. She poured a mug, setting it down in front of Denali. “What’re you eating, today?”

“You, ideally,” she murmured under her breath before looking up at her and replying, “patty melt, extra crispy onions, please,” while batting her lashes. “And a side of fries.”

The waitress nodded, scribbling the order onto the notepad. “You got it, baby,” she hummed, ripping the page out and hanging it up in the window, then ringing the bell for someone in the kitchen to come grab it. “So, how’re you liking the club? I’ll tell you, Jackie is the only person around here I’d trust running a place like that.”

Denali smiled, adding two packets of sugar and a splash of milk into her coffee, stirring slowly before taking a sip, though her eyes never left Rosé. “I mean, of all the strip clubs in the city, I’m glad I managed to find the one run and entirely populated by lesbians. You can’t plan for that sort of luck.”

Rosé snorted softly. “Guess not. You live in the neighborhood?”

“Nah,” she shook her head, “moved to Flatbush from Chicago.”

“Chicago, huh? You get into any fights with anyone over pizza yet?”

Denali shook her head. “Can I tell you a secret?” she leaned in closer, speaking in a stage whisper, “I’ve always liked New York-style pizza better.”

Rosé leaned in closer when Denali did, their faces only inches apart, close enough for her to take in the scent of her perfume – something woody and spicy with a hint of something heady, something almost as intoxicating as she was. “Oh, she’s a culinary rebel, huh?”

She let out a soft breath of laughter, biting down on her lip. “It does sound kinda hot when you say it like that,” she mused. The distance between them seemed to lessen, albeit by the tiniest bit at a time. But then she became aware of the background noise. “You have an order in the window, I think.”

Sure enough, one of the cooks had been ringing the bell for several seconds in an attempt to get Rosé’s attention. “Oh shit,” she laughed, turning and grabbing the plate, setting it down in front of Denali. “Enjoy,” she winked.

“I sure will,” Denali grinned and batted her lashes, her eyes following Rosé as she went to wait on another table. She gazed at her from across the restaurant. She would make a move, she thought, as soon as the moment was right.

——

Jackie stepped out of her office and noticed Jaida on her laptop in the common area. “Whatcha working on, honey?” she asked, sitting down beside her.

“The next great American novel,” Jaida told her. “Nah, I’m finishing up my OnlyFans page. Denali gave me a crash course in how to get this shit done right. Turns out it’s more than just taking what I do on stage and doing it in my room for a camera.”

“I mean, you’re welcome to make whatever content you need to on the stage or whatever if it helps,” she offered with a slight smile. “Anything I can do to help, let me know, okay?”

Jaida smiled warmly. “You’re the best, Jackie,” she tilted her head in thought for a moment before continuing, “maybe you could review the content before I post it? I’ll know it’s ready for the public if it has your seal of approval.”

Jackie nodded, ignoring the warmth that rushed to her cheeks. She nodded quickly, enthusiastically. “Oh my god, yeah. I’m honored you trust my judgment like that.”

“Hey, you stocked this club with top-tier bitches, you’re clearly onto something,” she offered with a reassuring grin. “Check it out, though,” she turned her laptop towards Jackie, “she’s open for business.”

Jackie leaned closer to the laptop, committing Jaida’s username to memory. “Impressive, I’m sure this is going to go over well for you.” She got out, smoothing out her skirt. “I have to take care of some paperwork, you alright from here?”

Jaida nodded. “All good, do your thing,” she said and waved her off. After Jackie retreated into her office, she continued working on her page. She was sitting in silence, which was why she jumped when she realized she was no longer alone a few moments later. “Fuck, how did you do that?”

Gigi shrugged. “I’m not convinced I’m not a Victorian ghost that’s taken corporeal form.” She kicked off her heels and turned to sit cross-legged on the couch, facing Jaida. “Listen, babe, I can smell an ulterior motive from a mile away. You’re trying to show off for Jackie, aren’t you? What’s the tea?”

“Guess it does take one to know one,” she murmured, reclining into the couch and letting out a sigh. “Yeah, okay, maybe I am into Jackie,” she conceded, “but unlike you, I have a good reason for not acting on it – she hasn’t been out of the closet all that long, I’m not tryna bombard her with shit, you know? It’s a delicate situation.”

“My situation is delicate too,” Gigi insisted, only to sigh and quietly add, “okay, maybe not as much, but still. So you’re just gonna wait it out?”

Jaida shrugged. “I don’t wanna freak her out. You, on the other hand, are crushing on someone that popped out of the womb with Doc Martens on, so you have no excuse.”

Gigi flopped onto her back and let out a dramatic sigh. “I know, I know. I just wish there was a way to just… send out some feelers, you know?”

“I cannot fathom how someone can dance naked in a cage one minute and not be able to look a girl with a One Direction tattoo in the eye the next. Literally, all you gotta do is take that confidence you got in the cage or on stage over to Miss Crystal Methyd, it ain’t that complicated, sis,” she did try to stop herself from talking to her like it should have been obvious – Gigi was almost ten years her junior, she had to remind herself. “You just need to try to stop overthinking,” she added in a more calm and gentle tone.

It wasn’t that Gigi didn’t know that, it was simply much easier to think about than to implement. “I know you’re right,” she murmured and sat up. She looked at her phone, chewing on her lip. “Okay, I’m gonna do something before I talk myself out of it,” she decided and stood up. “I’ll report back to you.”

“Good luck, my lil ghost baby.”

Gigi took a deep breath as she walked downstairs to the main floor. Crystal hadn’t arrived yet, so she perched herself on the bar as she waited, swinging her legs and fumbling with the hem of her skirt. Her head popped up when she heard the door open and her heart started to race when Crystal came into her field of vision.

“Hey Geege,” Crystal greeted, playfully tugging Gigi’s ponytail as she walked behind the bar.

“Hi Crystal,” she replied with the lilted laugh that was only ever elicited by the bartender. She reminded herself of Jaida’s words as she got off the bar and followed Crystal behind it. Just use your stage confidence. Picture yourself naked, she reminded herself. “You’re looking hot today.”

Crystal arched her brow. “Thanks? It’s just my usual uniform,” she shrugged and smiled. “You look hot though, but you always do.”

“Thanks,” Gigi twirled her hair around her fingers, batted her lashes, she was doing all of the textbook flirtations she could think of, but she stopped just as quickly, frowning. “Fuck, why does this feel so weird?” she asked herself, but out loud.

Crystal’s perplexed expression deepened. “What are you talking about?”

Gigi groaned and stomped her foot. “I’m trying to flirt with you, but I don’t know how to flirt with someone I actually like because I haven’t in so long. But you’re here and you’re just… fuck, this was supposed to be easier.”

The confusion on Crystal’s face morphed into pensiveness. She was quiet for a moment, then took a few steps towards Gigi. “I’m gonna kiss you now, unless you stop me.” She waited, giving her ample time to back away or speak up. Instead, she got a quick, eager nod. So, she gently cupped Gigi’s face, pressing a deep kiss to her lips.

And Gigi melted into the kiss, relief washing over her body as her arms draped around Crystal’s neck. Her leg went up like the girl in every single rom-com she’d watched and for a moment she felt like she was sixteen, having her first kiss behind the school while cutting gym class. The magic of the moment was only broken when she sensed they were no longer alone. She turned with a glare. “What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ us,” Lemon retorted, gesturing between herself, Jan, and Vanessa. “We’ve been waiting for this to happen for ages.”

“You kind of owe us a satisfying conclusion after subjecting us to your mutual pining fuckery you subjected us all to,” Jan nodded in agreement. “We’ve been along for this whole journey whether we wanted to be or not.”

“What they said,” Vanessa chimed in for the sake of being included.

Gigi rolled her eyes, though she did not attempt to let go of or move away from Crystal. “You guys are so fucking weird,” she muttered. “But I guess it’s kind of endearing or whatever,” she added reluctantly.

“We’ll leave you guys to finish your moment,” Jan said gently, guiding Lemon and Vanessa out of the main room and upstairs to the common area.

Crystal watched them leave, then looked back at Gigi. “I love our friends,” she grinned.

“I could take them or leave them,” she joked. “Look, we don’t… need to put a label on this or anything just yet. I know this was sudden… I just needed you to know how I felt.”

“You’re overthinking things again, aren’t you?” Crystal looped her arms around Gigi’s waist. “Listen, I know you only allow yourself three emotions a year, so it means a lot that I got to be on the receiving end of one of them. And like, I’m pretty bad at talking about feelings too, so… I dunno, let’s just see what happens.”

Gigi exhaled in relief. This was why she had gravitated towards Crystal so effortlessly, they understood each other, they were on the same wavelength. “So… how about you come back to my place after work? We could get high, pretend to watch some movies…”

Crystal pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. “It’s a date.”

[hermannsthumb]

"newt isn’t sleazy and is also too busy wrestling with the ethics of hitting on his hot TA if the guy is 5 months older than him to even notice" pleeeease write this

Anonymous asked: "When I Kissed the Teacher" AU ft professor newt and his hot 5-month-older TA hermann

and coincidentally, this older one

Anonymous asked: i just rewatched mamma mia 2 and was wondering if i could request a "when i kissed the teacher" newmann fic?? love your writing!!!!!!

Ask And Ye Shall Receive. sorry ive been MIA 😔 concept from this post I made earlier this month. idk what class newt teaches that hermann would be qualified to TA for but just like, decide for yourselves

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Newt’s never been a list-making kind of guy, or--for that matter--even really a planning ahead kind of guy, but certain circumstances have thrown his life more out of wack than usual lately, and he kind of needs the stability the like of things like lists offer. Desperate times and everything. Or, at the very least, Newt is desperate. 

So Newt plans, and plots, and deliberates, and he even agonizes a little, but most of all, he makes a list.

On one half of the page, he writes pros. On the other, he writes cons. On top, he writes--what else?--Hermann.

The problem started in late August. Newt knew for months he was going to be assigned a teaching assistant come that semester--it was him, after all, who’d suggested it to the dean in the first place--but the Hermann Gottlieb of extensive, impressive, overachieving CV and overly-former cover letter was a far cry from Hermann Gottlieb in the flesh. Newt expected a dork, frankly. Someone too socially awkward to feel brave enough to thank someone for holding a door open for him. He expected a PhD student so eager to please he’d cater to Newt’s every whim, whether it was grading horrendous freshman lab reports or fetching him a sandwich from the commissary between class sections. 

They met for the first time at the campus coffee shop. Hermann was dressed in an oversized pair of slacks, a threadbare green sweatervest, and honest-to-God saddle shoes; the buttons of his Oxford were done up all the way, from the collar to the cuffs, and an ornate cane was settled against his thigh. His haircut was tragic. “Dr. Geiszler,” he said, all clipped and English, and held his hand out to Newt. “Hermann Gottlieb. It is a great pleasure to meet you. I’m an admirer of your work.”

"Sup,” Newt said, and tried to bump their fists together.

Newt knew he was in deep shit then. It wasn’t just because Hermann was gorgeous (which he was, in a sort of weird, frumpy, ripped-outta-1945 way), or that the scowl he proceeded to level Newt with made his soul wither and his heart race a little bit too fast, but both of those things in conjunction with a big one: Newt was, and is, so fucking love-starved. It’s an unfortunate byproduct of being made a professor when he was as young as he was and completing a PhD before he completed puberty. His early twenties should’ve been spent dyeing his hair terrible colors and adding to his already impressive tattoo collection and having questionable hookups with other young twentysomethings; unfortunately, the only young twentysomethings Newt ever seems to come across are his students, and he has a very strict code of ethics. Not to mention it wasn’t like he was getting any action before that as a weird, gangly teenager with peers several years his senior. He was bound to latch onto the first genius hottie who crossed his path who wasn’t trying to flirt their way into bumping that B- to a B+. And better yet, Hermann is five whole months his senior!

The shit only got deeper when the semester started. No, Hermann was not the sort to fetch Newt sandwiches, or coffee, or Aspirin from his office, nor was he the sort to handle the dreaded lab reports (at least not unless Newt handled them with him), and he definitely wasn’t eager to please. Newt, anyway. If anything the opposite was true: he seemed to actively derive enjoyment from undermining Newt at every turn.

“Wrong,” he’d mutter during class if Newt screwed something up in a lecture, or “No, Geiszler, you’re doing it wrong again,” or “How in the blazes did you get three bloody PhDs when you can’t even do simple addition?” and snatch Newt’s dry erase marker away to scrawl his own answers on the whiteboard. It was less like having a TA and more like having...well, a bitchy, annoying co-teacher. Or, God help Newt, a colleague. And boy, did he wave those five months over Newt’s head like a fucking flag. Newt was immature; inexperienced; clearly not as serious about his studies--his completed studies--as Hermann. Meanwhile Newt’s class (bright young twenty somethings, taller than Newt, cooler than Newt, with more friends than Newt) would giggle and snicker, and Hermann would look smug.

It drove Newt fucking batty.

It also made him, like, super turned on.

The two can co-exist. Apparently. Hermann Gottlieb is already helping Newt discover new and existing concepts; what a fucking excellent TA he is. Someone give that man a raise.

So Newt draws up a list, and he writes Pros, and he writes Cons, and he writes Hermann. The pros are regrettably easy to come up with, because Hermann is Hermann, and (bitchiness and undermining of Newt aside) it’s unfair how many he has. Hot. Stupid sexy accent. Stupidly smart. This is crossed out and replaced with so smart he makes me feel stupid (in a good way), because it seems like an important distinction. Glasses on chain. Mysterious. (In a tall, dark, and handsome way. Sort of. Average height--which is tall to Newt, pale, and handsome. He still scowls more than he talks, which makes him feel mysterious. In a Bronte sort of way. Newt can picture Hermann drawing a billowing cloak around his shoulders and stalking some desolate moor in the moonlight, though in this case maybe’s more of a puffy parka than a cloak.) In tiniest font of all is makes me laugh, because Hermann does, goddamn it, with his snide asides and cutting remarks and sarcasm, often not even directed at Newt when it’s just the two of them alone in Newt’s office at night.

The placement of “is my TA” on the chart is acting as a particular annoyance to Newt, entirely on account of the fact that he can think of several pros and cons for that as well, and he’s not sure whether to nestle it between dark eyelashes and once called me a moron in front of my class and I got a hard-on or beneath sweaters smell like sweat and mothballs, has annoying tic of clearing throat when lost in thought, and the dick wins 86% of our arguments. Sexy forbidden fling. Abuse of power. Is older than me so it's not as weird as it could be? I’m his boss. The school’s paying Hermann though, not Newt, and it’s not like he’s going to scurry off to the dean and demand Hermann’s funding slashed if Hermann turns him down (which he’d most likely do). But it still feels like a breach of ethics.

On the other hand, Hermann is exactly the sort of guy he’d try to pick up at a bar if he still did things like that. (Tenure, rather than giving Newt breathing space to kick back and relax a little, has only increased his obsession with his work, and now when he gets a Friday night free to himself he mostly switches crap on the TV and falls asleep with his cat on the couch.) It’s about the experience, the impossible task of seducing someone who--by all accounts--is too straight-laced and tight-buttoned to indulge in something that debase. They were always the best in bed. Tension, Newt knows, has to snap at some point.

He’d like to wrap Hermann’s personal piano wire around his thumb and bang away at the keys until it snaps, too. Ethics, Newt thinks (folding up the list and stuffing it out of sight), his ass.

Newt sacrifices a Friday night with his cat and Unsolved Mysteries in favor of working on a solution to his Hermann Problem. Swamped with work, he tells Hermann over the phone, it fucking sucks, dude, I could really use your help in my office, and Hermann grumbles, and snaps that Newt should learn to be better prepared for his own damn classes, but declares he’ll be on campus in half an hour and that Newt will be ordering him takeaway for dinner as an apology.

The door swings open at half past five. Hermann is bundled in that heavy parka and scarf (which, even for a Boston November, still looks a little too warm), and his hair is damp. “Is it raining?” Newt says, perhaps stupidly, because there’s not a single droplet of water anywhere else on Hermann’s body.

Hermann makes a face at him and pushes the door shut with his cane. “No,” he says, tersely.

“Then why...” Newt touches his own hair.

“I was taking a bloody bath,” Hermann snaps. “I don’t work on Fridays, as you well know, Newton.”

The use of his full first name stings Newt oddly even as the notion of Hermann luxuriating in a bathtub excites him. “That’s Dr. Geiszler,” Newt snaps back, because goddamn it, he’s Hermann’s boss, he deserves respect, and then mentally adds a small, depressing tally to the Cons half of the board. Ethics, ethics. 

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, Dr. Geiszler,” Hermann says. He throws his scarf and coat viciously at the small couch in the corner of Newt’s office, then takes his usual seat across from Newt. “Well? Where are those papers it’s so crucial we grade?”

Hermann in a bathtub, Newt thinks. Hermann naked. Papers, Newt thinks. “Papers,” Newt says, and he shoves a stack at Hermann with twice as much force as he means to, causing several to flutter to the ground. “We need...to grade them,” he says. Hermann naked, in a bathtub, maybe some candles lit around him, some nice music on, daydreaming about that wretched professor he works for. Damn it. “I have a pen,” he says. “To grade.”

“What on earth are you saying?” Hermann says. “Be quiet. I can’t concentrate with your abominable prattling on.” Then he mumbles something that sounds like incessant, rips the top paper off the stack, and begins to slash at it in red ink. He doesn’t bother gathering the two from the ground.

Why did Newt invite him here, again?

Oh, right. He pushes his glasses up his nose and feigns casualness, pulling out another paper for himself to grade. “A bath,” he says. “Just to, uh, relax? Or...?”

Hermann narrows his eyes. “Or?”

Newt shrugs. “It’s Friday. Were you getting ready for a date or something?”

This time, Hermann’s mouth twists down into a frown. Almost suspicious. “Why do you care?” he says.

“I don’t,” Newt says quickly. “Just making small talk.” God, he could picture some stud of a computer science PhD candidate winning Hermann over with techno babble--or maybe one of his fellow students, ugh, maybe they made a study group together that meets Friday nights, and Hermann was getting all gussied up, goddamn handsome astrophysics grad students--

“I was relaxing,” Hermann says. “You must be aware at this point you cause me a great deal of stress, Dr. Geiszler, on a daily basis.”

“Oh,” Newt says.

He gives up on the small talk after that. Hermann’s promised takeout arrives--a small carton of pad thai--as does Newt’s--a large carton of the spiciest thing they had on the menu--and they eat in silence. They have about three-quarters of the papers to go when Hermann suddenly sits back in his seat with a groan and rubs at his eyes under his granny glasses. “Bugger,” he says. “I can’t fathom this one for the life of me. I’m too tired.”

“It’s getting kinda late,” Newt agrees. “Maybe we should--”

“It’s not that,” Hermann says. “I had a glass of wine earlier, and--oh, it doesn’t matter. Your students need to learn how to write in a way that’s actually bloody legible--it’s like chicken scratch.”

Newt hops up and leans over his shoulder, squinting down at the page. Hermann’s hair smells nice, like something floral, and his skin has a small hint of what could almost be cologne. Why is Hermann wearing cologne? “Okay, let me see it,” Newt says, struggling to keep from getting lightheaded at the close proximity to Hermann. “I’m used to that kind of shit.”

“No,” Hermann says, drawing the paper close to his chest. “I am perfectly capable of managing it on my own.”

“Dude,” Newt says, “let me look at it, seriously. Hermann--”

He manages to tug it away from him. The handwriting is pretty bad, but the math seems to be worse. “Didn’t they do the readings?” Newt mutters under his breath. “That’s not even the right equation for the diameter. I gave them a cheat sheet, man.” They’re junior year engineering students--they should know this shit.

“I know what the equation is,” Hermann snaps. “I can grade it on my own. Give it back.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t know,” Newt says, “I said this kid--”

“It’s the radius squared--”

“Hermann, dude,” Newt says, “I know you’re--”

And that’s when Hermann grabs him by his skinny tie and kisses him, hard. 

They stare at each other afterwards. Hermann’s eyes are as wide as saucers; his mouth is hanging open. Newt’s tie slips from his fingers, which then fall limp to his lap. “Holy shit,” Newt squeaks.

Hermann is gone with a swish of his parka and a loud clack of his cane. And with a stack of papers Newt still has to somehow get through. Figures.

Their next few classes together are subdued. Hermann doesn’t interject any of his biting commentary or corrections, or even offer critiques of Newt’s lack of professionalism (when in the past his skinny jeans were such an easy target), and when the period is over, he practically sprints from the classroom before he and Newt can be alone together for even a second. It’s fine by Newt. Whatever. Maybe Hermann can get over it over Thanksgiving break, and Newt can try to get over the memory of Hermann’s strong fingers tugging him down, Hermann’s floral shampoo, Hermann’s chapped, wide lips against his, the little grunt of shock Hermann made as he did it, like he couldn’t believe his own audacity...

It’s not likely.

It’s December, the last week before finals, and Newt’s in his office bundled up in a sweatshirt (because the heat never seems to fucking work in here), revising a draft of an exam, and dreading the thought of trudging home in the snow, when there’s suddenly a knock at his door. Anticipating some overeager freshman here outside of office hours, he doesn’t look up as he says “Come in.”

A familiar clearing of a throat.

Newt shoots straight up to his feet. He knocks a mug of coffee to the floor in the process. “Hermann,” he says. “Uh. Hi. What--what are you doing here?”

Hermann shuts the door behind him, then takes a careful step forward. He’s back in his big dumb coat and big long scarf. “I thought I ought to tell you myself first,” he says, primly. “I’ve submitted a request to the dean to be reassigned to another professor next semester. Our research interests are far more in line, and I don’t imagine our personalities shall clash as much.”

“Oh,” Newt says, pretending his heart isn't sinking in his chest like a hunk of lead. Was he that bad of a kisser? He feels like he deserves a second shot at it--he wasn’t ready last time, you know, he bets he’d really wow Hermann if he had a fair heads up. “Are.. are those the only reasons why?”

“No,” Hermann admits. “They’re not.”

He crosses the room, and corners Newt against his desk before Newt even realizes what’s happening. “They’re not,” he says again, then adds in a murmur (lifting one hand to brush his fingers against Newt’s hair), “Dr. Geiszler.”

Neither of them talk much, after that.

[skzsauce01]

In Fair Verona︱Chapter 2

Synopsis: Jisung knows he is the Romeo to your Juliet. He could wax poetry about you all throughout rehearsal and even a little after. Except Hwang Hyunjin is the one playing Romeo in the school play, not him. Jisung is just another tech crew member that you don’t know, but he’s determined to win your heart... by any means necessary.

Warning: none... yet

Word Count: 2.2k

Pairing: fem!reader x Jisung; fem!reader x Hyunjin

updates every Wednesday and Sunday @ 11 PM PST︱chapter list

O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?

Deny thy father and refuse thy name,

Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,

And I’ll no longer be a Capulet.

Jisung is waiting for fourth period to begin and homeroom announcements to be over when he overhears two girls discussing the play. He stops doodling in the margins of his notebook once he hears you being mentioned.

“She’s so lucky! She gets to kiss Hwang Hyunjin!” the one with the ponytail exclaims.

So that’s Romeo’s name. He makes a mental note to look him up on Facebook and Instagram later.

Her voice then drops to a whisper. “I heard they kissed during in-class rehearsal.”

Jisung snorts and quickly disguises it as a sneeze. Stage kisses in school productions are almost always fake; based on his experience, there’s usually a hand hiding obscuring the kiss, so the actors get as close as possible without actual contact.

“She’s so lucky,” the other girl sighs. “Oh, Y/N, Y/N! Why did you have to get the part of Juliet and not me?” she dramatically says.

Jisung silently agrees but for a totally different reason and goes back to drawing sunbursts when the conversation turns into a debate about who would be the second best choice for Romeo.

Jisung leaves his belongings in the green room after school and sits with Chan behind the soundboard while he waits for rehearsal to start. Chan is busy with testing new sound effects and new music choices, so Jisung scrolls through Hwang Hyunjin’s Instagram. He only finds food pictures and some videos of him dancing. Nothing incriminating.

“Hey, did you bring dinner today? Me, Felix, Changbin, and Jeongin were planning to go to the convenience store during dinner break,” Chan invites.

Jisung has a bowl of instant noodles and a thermos of hot water in his backpack. “I’ve got food already.”

“Ah, next time then!”

“Actors! To your places!” comes through on the loudspeaker, and Jisung hurries backstage. The balcony is being pushed back to the center of the stage already. He shimmies through the gap between the wall and the main curtain, trying not to trip on any cables. Changbin is sitting with his giant binder open and his headset on. He points to another headset on the table, and Jisung takes it and puts it on. The comms are already abuzz with bad jokes and the sounds of turning pages.

The side door opens, and you rush in, adjusting the circlet in your hair. Your lips close and part, and Jisung can only imagine the swears you’re mouthing. He wants to shout something encouraging, but that would only delay you. He also has no idea what he would say anyway. The floor lights for the cyclorama tint your whole body blue as you hurry to the stairs for the balcony. You make it to the top just in time.

Ms. Park tells Hyunjin to start from “She speaks.” To Jisung’s delight, Hyunjin has not improved from yesterday, and his delivery only is slightly better than monotone. Meanwhile, you look as crestfallen as you possibly can. You rest your cheek on one hand and gaze into the distance, which turns out to be the back of the auditorium where the soundboard and light board are. Romeo likens Juliet to an angel, and Jisung agrees —  you’re beautiful, bright, and out of his reach.

Hyunjin ends his lines, and it’s your turn to say the most famous line of the entire play: “O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?”

Your cries resonate with him; why did Hyunjin have to be Romeo? If he knew that you were going to audition for the lead role, he would have too. If the current Romeo managed to get the part, then he would have had no problem. He could have been the one looking up at you, telling the world how lovely he thought you were.

Though he’s far away and off to the side, he sees the way you glow as you recite your lines. Your passion radiates off of you, and Jisung gets a direct hit. He’s so enamored by you, he doesn’t even mind when Hyunjin poorly says his lines.

It’s like that for the rest of the scene. Jisung remains standing and watches you and Hyunjin flirt in Elizabethan English. Before the scene ends, Jisung detaches himself from the curtain and positions himself by the prop table. He pretends to be rearranging the props so that as soon as the lights go out and the tech crew members on stage left drag the balcony back into the wings, you speedily walk to the other wing where he is.

It’s strange to be excited by a mundane act, but that’s what love does, he supposes. He whispers, “Be careful of the cables,” at you.

“I know,” you whisper back. There’s no sharpness to it; it’s just a simple statement.

You brush past him, and your arm, raised from holding your skirt, knocks into his elbow. He stiffens, and you murmur an apology before leaving through the side door.

After a less than satisfactory scene four, the director decides it’s time for a dinner break. There’s a few cheers in the comms and an audible sigh of relief from the girl playing Nurse. Ms. Park reminds them that dinner will end at 6, so she expects them to be back in the auditorium by then. Changbin is already leaping out of his chair and running down the stairs on the side of the stage. Jisung imagines that Chan, Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin are just as ready to eat; they were discussing what to buy for dinner right when the scene started.

Jisung follows the other members of the crew to the classroom for dinner. The room is just as crowded as before, and there’s a long line to use the microwave. Jisung squeezes through the groups of people and gets out his meal.

“That’s a smart idea,” a familiar voice comments. When he looks up from his water pouring, he sees that it’s you.

He looks at the glass container in your hands and realizes that you’re one of ones waiting to heat up your food. “Your dinner’s probably better though,” he lamely responds. His face begins to feel warm, and it’s not from the steam.

“It’s the slightly burnt fried rice I made three days ago,” you smile. “Wanna trade?”

He wants to say yes so badly. But it would be better to play it cool, right? The panic must have shown on his face since you laugh and say, “Knew it.”

The line shuffles forward and so do you. He turns back to his food, disappointed that he didn’t take you up on your offer. He likes fried rice.

(And you, but that’s only the tiniest bit relevant to his plight.)

He is halfway through his meal when the chair in front of him is pulled out. You sit and set your container down. He smells kimchi with a touch of smoke.

“Hi,” you say. The corner of your mouth quirks up. “Any chance you’re willing to trade?”

Jisung shakes his head, playing along. “I’m half way through mine already, sorry.”

“Darn.”

There’s a moment of silence before he decides to break it. “Your name’s Y/N, right?”

“Mhm.” You swallow your rice. “It’s kind of embarrassing to admit, but… I don’t actually know yours,” you slowly say. “And we’re eating together, which makes it doubly embarrassing.”

The way you say it makes Jisung’s heart pound. It’s like a date, but not really. “I’m Jisung.”

“The props guy, right?”

He shakes his head “I’m part of the floor crew. ”

“Oh! I saw you by the props earlier, so I thought you were. And you’re always watching the play, so I thought you were waiting for cues or something.”

A wide variety of curses appear in his mind. He can’t let you know the real reason why.

“No! I just really like Shakespeare,” he makes up. More unnecessary lies flow out. “Romeo and Juliet is a really great play. I love the plot and the characters. Speaking of, our play is going to be so great. You — I mean, the entire cast is perfect.”

You light up at the compliment, and Jisung swears he’s looking directly at the sun. “You think so?”

You’re far too amazing to be stupid, naive Juliet, but he nods his head anyway. “You’re a good actress.”

“How do you feel about Hyunjin then? Does he live up to your expectations?”

The brainless Romeo who only pursues Juliet out of lust? “Yeah. He’s exactly like Romeo.”

“Hyunjin will be happy to hear that,” you say. You glance at the clock, and Jisung does too. It’s only a few minutes away from six o’clock. “Dinner’s almost over. Darn, I need to get into costume, too.”

While you pick through the less appetizing portions of your meal, Jisung finishes the last of his noodles. Not a minute passes before you snap the lid back on the container and jump out of your seat. You hurriedly say goodbye and run out the door to the dressing room.

Jisung stays seated, processing what happened. Was it a friendly conversation or flirting? Did you eat dinner with him because you felt bad for him or because you were interested in him? He replays the last few minutes in his head. You started the conversation and chose to sit at his table, so it had to mean something. You joked with him and beamed at his compliment, but you also brought up Hyunjin and no one else. He sighs and leans back in his chair before someone yelling the time makes him jump out of it.

He helps set up the next scene before watching the play from stage right like before. He feels strangely betrayed when he hears how desperately you, as Juliet, want to hear Romeo’s message after getting his hopes up at dinner. His brain knows it’s not real, but his heart thinks otherwise. He paces in a small circle to try and get out his nervous energy. He stops after a minute and forces himself to think of something else. If he closes his eyes, he can pretend it’s him that you’re referring to; he’s the one you want to marry.

In his daydream, you stand in front of him in a white dress and a circlet instead of a veil. The bouquet of roses in your hand matches the glowing blush across your cheeks. You look up at him through your long lashes, and Jisung can barely hold himself together at the sight of you. His hand covers his mouth to stifle his soft sobs. You’re no different. With shaky breaths, you hold a piece of paper in front you and read your vows.

“... in sickness and health. I promise to love you until death do us part,” you manage to say through your tears.

The minister pronounces you husband and wife, and Jisung reaches out to cup your face. In reality though, he is only able to touch air. The pretty stained glass of the church is soon swallowed by the darkness of backstage. There’s no organ playing, only Changbin yelling at him in his ear to get ready for Act III.

The first scene of Act III features a poorly choreographed sword fight, two deaths, and not you. In other words, nothing of Jisung’s interests. Rehearsal ends after the scene is finished, and Jisung halfheartedly listens to the tech director’s notes. Like yesterday, he gets called out for not paying attention enough to calls. He once again promises to do better, but Mr. Gi and Changbin don’t look like they’re buying it. He really has to do better tomorrow.

When everyone is finally dismissed, Jisung goes back to the classroom in hopes of seeing you before he goes home. The actors are still receiving notes from the director, and it doesn’t seem like she’s going to be done soon. He tries to catch your eye while he grabs his belongings, but you’re fully listening to Ms. Park. To add to his disappointment, he notices that Hyunjin is sitting by you. Thus, Jisung “accidentally” opens his textbook, sending all his papers to the floor, hoping that you take notice. You do and give him a sympathetic smile.

He plays “Marry You” on the drive back home and sings along, thinking of you.

~ ad.gray

[dudeandduchess]

Heeey Jen! I just saw this cool prompt list and I thought why not? "I got dumped in your restaurant and you saw me crying and you invited me into your kitchen to make me a special, better dinner free of charge." I think this would be great with Kyojuro ;) He seems like the type to do these things and I'm not complaining XD Anyways, love your work and I hope you're doing well!

Hey hey, bby! After a long-ass time, I’m finally done with this. Lmao. Hope you like it! 😌

It took such a long time bc I omitted so many scenes from this bc they got too technical. I consciously had to tell myself, “Jen, no one is as much of a nerd over cooking food as you and your friends are. Get a grip.” But I hope this is cute enough. 💜✨

***

Kyōjurō x F!S/O: I got dumped in your restaurant and you saw me crying and you invited me into your kitchen to make me a special, better dinner free of charge (Restaurant AU, Modern AU, SFW Scenario):

There was nothing more that (Y/n) wanted to do, other than cry. Her tears already pricked the backs of her eyes, and her lips quivered even as she tried to savor the taste of the pommes puree that she’d just shoveled into her mouth.

It was smooth as all hell, and it was really reach and creamy— yet she couldn’t even appreciate how good the food was, what with the heaviness in her chest that was weighing her down.

‘Just finish your expensive-ass meal, and then you can leave.’ The young woman thought to herself, as she speared a small cut of her steak with her fork and slipped it inside her mouth. She normally liked having steak and pommes puree, but she couldn’t muster up any sort of happiness at that moment.

All because the man she had been with before, the very same man whom had left her all alone at the table without even paying for his half of the meal, had just broken up with her.

Out of all the guests inside the restaurant, she was sure that she was the saddest one. And it only made her feel even sadder, when she looked over at the other end of the room to where the executive chef was laughing up a storm with the guests at one table; because she wished that she could banish all of the heaviness inside her heart.

Meanwhile, from where Kyōjurō stood, his gaze flickered over towards the lone woman at one of the corner tables in the room. Her head was hung low, and her shoulders were slightly hunched in as she picked at her food.

The nagging feeling inside him told him to let the waiters handle it, but he had seen what had happened— as had most of the people in the dining room.

She had been dumped; quietly, yes, but dumped all the same.

He wanted to do something nice for her, but he highly doubted that sending her a complimentary cake from the pastry kitchen would cut it. Hell, he would most likely break down in tears if anyone showed him pity like that; and, as it was, she already seemed to be having a hard time keeping her emotions in check.

“Chef, you’re needed in the kitchen,” One of the waiters muttered quietly, which had him downing the last bit of wine that he’d had in his glass. He then excused himself from the table of VIPs, making it a point to sidle up near the woman by the corner.

Her eyes looked even more forlorn than when he saw them from across the room, and that had him making his mind up.

“Can you grab me one of those chairs, and put them in garde manger?” Kyōjurō asked the waiter that was right behind him, with his eyes never leaving the sad woman eating all alone in his restaurant.

The waiter nodded, not willing to go against the chef’s wishes— even if said chef was mild-mannered and had a very optimistic attitude. So, he excused himself from Kyōjurō before heading back in through the double doors that led to the kitchen— all with a dining chair in his hands.

Kyōjurō then inhaled deeply, exhaling slightly in into his free hand so that he could know if his breath smelled like wine or not. He’d just had one glass, but it still wouldn’t do to talk to a guest with alcohol on his breath.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he walked up to the table in the corner— where the young woman sat— and gently touched the back of her arm with the tips of his fingers to get her attention. “Excuse me, ma’am...”

She jumped at the unexpected touch, her head whipping up to see who it was who wanted her attention. Her eyes immediately took in the chef who was at the far end of the room earlier— schmoozing with a couple of VIPs, from the way that the servers paid attention to them.

His hair was tied back in a ponytail, and that only highlighted the sharp cut of his jaw, and the sharpness of his features— instead of retracting from them, in any way. He wasn’t even wearing a toque, or skull cap, or any form of hat to indicate his status in the kitchen; and she found that a bit weird— as most chefs that she saw on TV had really tall toques— but cute all the same.

“Oh, good evening, chef... err...” (Y/n) tried to muster up a smile, but it fell as nothing more than a simper; what with how heavy her chest still was after being so unceremoniously dumped.

“Kyōjurō. Rengoku Kyōjurō,” The young man answered with a soft smile, as he offered his hand out for her to shake.

Her gaze flickered over to his hand at first, merely staring at it, before lifting her right hand up and accepting his handshake. “(L/n) (Y/n).”

Kyōjurō didn’t even know why, but the moment that their eyes connected during that handshake, it was as if something had clicked inside him; like he’d just found something that he had been looking for all his life. Yet he mentally shook the feeling away, because it would be weird to act on his small taste of kismet right off the bat— when he wasn’t even sure if it really was kismet that he felt.

“I’m trying out some specials tonight, and was wondering if you’d like to taste them? All complimentary, of course.”

(Y/n) had the urge to ask him why it had to be her, when she wasn’t even feeling the least bit sociable— but kept her mouth shut out of respect. So, with a nod, she found herself being helped out of her seat and being guided into the kitchen.

Their hands had parted the moment she was on her feet but, even as she followed behind him inside the bustling kitchen, she could still feel his warmth lingering on her skin.

Was it wrong of her to have liked how her hand had fit in his so seamlessly? And how the heaviness inside her chest had dissipated the tiniest bit when he had looked right into her eyes and gave her the warmest smile?

She knew better than to cling on to the kindness of a stranger and misconstrue it as something else, but it wasn’t exactly easy to tell her heart to calm down. Especially when he led her over to a narrow lane that was bordered by stainless steel worktables, and low chillers.

Her eyes roved over all the ingredients that were on display in neat little containers on the countertops and, even though she wanted to reach out and touch each and every one of them, she refrained from doing so.

Because, judging by the shifty gaze that the line cook in charge of the station was giving her, her presence was completely unexpected.

“I... chef... Rengoku-san, I don’t want to be a bother,” (Y/n) whispered as she tugged on the hem of the chef’s folded sleeve.

And he turned to her with such a bright and sincere grin on his face, that it quieted down all of the trepidations that gnawed inside her. “You’re not. It’s my pleasure to have you here.”

Maybe it was just her, but the way that those words rolled off his tongue had sounded too... sensual and inviting. So she shook the unsettling thoughts off and let him guide her to the sole chair in the whole kitchen.

The to her left was what she guessed to be the salad station— based on the amount of greens and dressings that abounded the narrow space. And connected to it, in one long aisle, was the pastry section.

From where she sat, she could see two people quickly and quietly plating up plates upon plates of desserts; decadent chocolate cakes, tart cheese cakes, and so many more desserts that she couldn’t even name.

The way they worked was so mesmerizing; it was like a well-choreographed dance, as the two people there seamlessly worked to push more and more desserts out— all while the ticket printer kept printing out more orders.

“The station you’re in is garde manger; this is where all the salads and all the cold entrées come from. Right over there is the pastry section,” Kyōjurō explained patiently, as he gestured to each of the stations. Then, he stepped up to stand beside her and motioned over to the other side of the kitchen— the much bigger and more hectic-looking side.

No one laughed or smiled, as everyone was so focused on what they were doing. She could hear the clattering of pots and pans, and the sizzling of food as they were laid out in hot, oiled pans.

And when flames shot out from one pan that a cook was sautéing, she visibly jumped in surprise; which had her blushing profusely, as the man beside her chuckled quietly.

“Right over there is the hot kitchen, and this side here is the cold kitchen. Right down there is our wine cellar, so if you want a special wine tasting menu, feel free to tell me and I can have that arranged for you.”

(Y/n) could only nod dumbly at what he was saying, as she was too focused on the tempting way that his lips moved to register anything else. All she heard were the words ‘wine’ and ‘you’... so she just nodded her head and uttered a soft ‘thank you’.

“I’ll start things off with something light. Do you have any food allergies? Any dietary restrictions?”

“No. I... no. I’m good with anything, really.”

Kyōjurō couldn’t help but grin at that, as he thought to himself, ‘A woman after my own heart.’

He then tamped down the smile that threatened to form on his lips, but when he couldn’t quite hide his flustered reaction, he immediately turned away from her and made himself busy by digging through the low chillers for the ingredients for his special.

The chef worked quietly beside her, donning a fresh pair of gloves before handling the raw cut of fish that he had curing in watermelon juice. And it was as if every single one of his actions had (Y/n) captivated.

From the way that he sliced the fish into thin cuts, down to the way he plated it up in what could only be considered a soup plate... every single thing drew her in. Or maybe it was the at-peace and very warm expression on his handsome face that made her want to watch him as he worked.

Whatever it was, she knew that she was well and truly enchanted by the man that had invited her into his kitchen.

“This is red snapper crudo, cured in watermelon juice for eight hours, with a little maldon salt, some fresh micro cilantro, and some cilantro oil that we made earlier this morning. The dark brown cubes are hoshigaki from my sous chef’s farm up North, and the dots of orange are tangerine coulis.”

(Y/n) hadn’t the slightest idea what a coulis was, nor where maldon salt came from, but the dish he served in front of her looked so mouthwateringly good that when he handed her a knife and fork, she didn’t even hesitate to give it a bite.

After all of that drama earlier, she was famished; it was just a good thing that the bad taste in her mouth had already dissipated with Kyōjurō’s entrance.

She ate with so much gusto that it warmed Kyōjurō’s heart immensely, and by the end of the three-course specials that he had made up out of the fly— save for the snapper crudo that was meant to be the special for the following day— she was smiling and giggling as she chatted with the cook in garde manger.

“Your specials taste so amazing. Your chef’s really talented; I’m sure they’ll be a hit when you add them to the menu,” (Y/n) commented with a smile, as she watched Kyōjurō walk over to the far end of the pastry section and dig through their fridge.

“Specials?” The cook asked with a confused expression. “The only special we have at the moment is the snapper crudo. Chef doesn’t make a lot of specials regularly.”

“So the sous vide steak...” She trailed off, willing the other woman to finish her train of thought for her.

And, to her relief, she did. “All of the things he gave you were made on the fly... or, on the spot, rather— to put it in laymen’s terms.”

At that, a flustered smile tugged up at the corners of (Y/n)’s lips, as she covered the lower half of her face to keep everyone from seeing just how sappy the she must have looked at that moment.

But when she turned back to look at Kyōjurō— whom was getting chased out of the pastry section by the executive pastry chef herself— he gave her a toothy grin, before lifting his hand up in a pseudo wave, even though they were no more than a few meters apart.

While she, in turn, raised up the hand that was covering the lower half of her face— exposing the utterly smitten grin and the flushed cheeks that she sported.

“So, I’m guessing we’re going to see a lot more of you; if the lovestruck look in my chef’s eyes is something to go by.”

[harborpointeblvd]

a rec list no one asked for

someone please read my favorite webcomics and talk about them with me.

part 2

Heesu in Class 2 - complete

Despite both being big dumb idiots who don’t know anything about relationships, Heesu and his next door neighbor Seung Won agree to help each other out with their respective secret crushes. And you can already see where this is going. But while this may sound like the plot of every rom-com ever, this manhwa has something none of them have, and it’s the absolute ray of sunshine that is Heesu. He’s an angel.

Main pairing is an A+. Side pairing is like a C- honestly. Heesu playing wingman for the side pairing is an A+. And speaking of wingmen, Heesu’s and Seung Won’s best friends are great. One of them is a girl character who doesn’t just exist to stir up drama. There was a wlw early on in the story who I thought was being set up to be in a side pair but she’s just never seen again. C’est la vie.

Rated W for Wholesome.

.

For Your Love - *complete

When Jung Yohan realizes that his upperclassman Moogyeong has feelings for another guy, he makes it his mission to get the pair together. Yohan thinks unrequited love is for idiots, but joke’s on him, because he’s the biggest idiot of them all. Yohan is easily the best thing about this manhwa. He has the greatest facial expressions.

We don’t have a side pairing...yet. I’m not counting the hetero pairing because zero time was spent setting up that relationship (they’re cute though). But if they’re going in the direction that was kinda sorta hinted at a while back with Yohan’s friend, I give it an F.**

**Update: Yohan’s friend got a spinoff.

.

Someone Else’s BL Manhwa - complete

Loner by day and cross-dresser by night, Kim Seunghee has managed to keep his double life a secret, until he’s caught in drag after a bad date by class president Park Seungtaek and class trouble maker Lee Kyubin. I’m not even gonna spoil who the pairings are, because it’s not immediately apparent. It seems like the main character is kind of polarizing (he’s a bit standoffish), but I personally love Seunghee. I also love Lee Kyubin and Park Inbeom, two characters who seem like assholes at first, but grow more lovable the more you get to know them. They’re still assholes, but they’re lovable assholes.

There is a HUGE portion of the comic dedicated to the side pairing (it really is someone else’s bl) but both the main and side pairings are cute as hell. Based on the comments I've seen, I think most people like the side pairing better than the main, but I like the main couple’s arch a little bit better.

This was one of the first BL comics that I read, so there's a nostalgia factor there for me. I honestly love it too much to be objective about it. Do I love it because it's good or is it good because I love it?

.

Tamen De Gushi - ongoing

It’s the GL counterpart to 19 Days, but with less organized crime and the romance progresses faster. 

When Sun Jing sees Qiu Tong at the train station, it’s love at first sight. Cuteness ensues. It’s a really simple premise, but with such a fun cast of characters that it’s enjoyable even when nothing is happening. Qiu Tong is sweet, and Sun Jing’s sweetness extends only as far as Qiu Tong.

Sun Jing’s dynamic with her best bro/wingman is one of the highlights of the comic.

.

Roommates - complete

Kisub just needs to crash on Jinwoo’s couch for a few days, or months, or forever. Which is a problem, because Jinwoo has secret feelings for Kisub, and they’re bound to come out eventually.

Roommates is just too funny. The art style and story are pretty simple, but it has a lot of funny little details that make it relatable. Jinwoo is affected by the tiniest things that Kisub does, like putting a medication patch on his neck. Oh if he were an icy hot patch against that neck...

The main couple is cute as hell. I’m kind of neutral about the side pairing, but I do really like Jinwoo’s friend who makes up half of the couple. His name changes depending on what translation you read, which confused the heck out of me.

There's also a Roommates 2, which is not a direct sequel and none of the characters are roommates.

.

19 Days - ongoing

Shut up, you don’t need me to tell you about 19 Days.

Jian Yi and Zhan Zheng Xi were best friends all through middle school, but right after the start of high school, Jian Yi disappeared. Years later, he returns out of the blue.

Is the set up for the story.

But it’s not really about that. At least not yet. The comic so far has mainly followed them through their middle school days, being funny and cute. Jian Yi has no eyebrows, but Xi has enough for both of them and that’s how you know it’s destiny.

I love the main pairing. The side pairing is. Popular. You don’t need to know my feelings about it. I like Mo. Moving along.

.

On or Off - ongoing

If you haven’t noticed, I tend to go for the more wholesome romances over the smutty ones. I usually find the sex to be gratuitous and feel like it only slows down the plot, if there IS a plot. That being said, this is my favorite webcomic that I’m currently reading.

Based on the synopsis, I shouldn’t even like On or Off. It checks off a lot of items on my list of tropes that immediately turn me off of a story. Starting with the comic opening right off the bat with a quid-pro-quo arrangement in a motel room.

Yiyoung and his friends - a bunch of brilliant but antisocial women - start an app company together, and Yiyoung is the dumb, pretty face of the group. But when they try to sell their app to a major corporation, he flubs the presentation. Now he has to come up with a new way to get director Kang to consider their app.

So the main reason I love this comic is Yiyoung. I would die for Yiyoung. I didn’t like Kang at first, and then I liked him, and now I’m starting to not like him again. But that’s not important. What’s important is that this story had me hooked from the beginning. It had me up all night. It had me spending my hard-earned Tappytoon points to read the chapters as they were released.

.

Here are some honorable mentions. These are stories that aren’t far enough along yet to call favorites, but I feel like they will be.

Soulmate - *complete

GL. 27-year-old Yu Qi has been dating Yuan Zi since college. When she wakes up one morning ten years in the past, in her 17-year-old body, she decides to use it as an opportunity to meet Yuan Zi sooner. She has her reasons. Meanwhile, 17-year old Yu Qi wakes up in her present-day body and doesn’t know Yuan Zi.

*Update: It’s completed. Super cute. Must read.

Mr 100% Perfect

This is another smutty one. Woo-in breaks up with his too-perfect boyfriend, Suk-yun. After getting a job with a cleaning service, his first client turns out to be his ex, who it turns out is not so perfect after all.

Badluck

Sort of GL and BL, but mostly just hilarious. On her 17th birthday, An finds out she has the power to curse anyone she touches, a power inherited from her father, who’s cursed her to be single until she’s 40. Unfortunately this one was dropped because of something to do with Vietnamese copyright laws, so I don’t think we’ll ever get the full comic in English.

[kat-katsuki]

Love Letter | Todoroki Shouto x Reader

Synopsis: You wrote a love letter to your crush, Todoroki Shouto, but you debate on whether or not you should actually give it to him. 

Word Count: 2.2k

Fluff

~~~~~~~Enjoy~~~~~~~

Dear Shou-kun,

Although we've known each other since first day of high school, we only became close friends for the past three months. I know three months is a little short for some people, but it was enough for me to figure out that I'm madly in love with you. At first, you were a little cold, a little distant and hard to approach, but after we became friends it became obvious to me that you were the kindest soul I've ever met.

I noticed how you always walk on the outside when we go out together, and how you would always keep me on your left side when I'm cold. You're a little dense to emotions, but you'd always do your best to make sure I'm okay. I'm really, REALLY grateful for that time you lent me your shoulder to cry on when my dog passed away, and how you stayed with me the whole night and held me until I fell asleep on you. You're also so patient with me, always helping me with homework, and tutoring me in my worst subjects.

I know you probably only think of me as a friend, like Midoriya and Ochaco-chan... Honestly I can't ask for more! I love being your friend, and I just love being with you! But recently these...romantic feelings of mine, has been getting so strong it's overwhelming. I really don't want to do something that might end up jeopardizing our friendship, but I really can't hold these feelings in anymore. I'm afraid that if I don't tell you now, I might accidentally overstep my boundaries, and I don't want that... If you choose to keep your distance with me after you read this, I completely understand. I just want you to know that I still want to be friends, because whether or not you return my feelings, I'm always going to be there when you need me.

Shou-kun, I like you. I love you. I just want to tell you that.

Yours truly,

(Y/N)

You squealed into your pillow to let out all the stress pent up inside as you wrote the cheesy, almost unbearable letter. Your trashcan was already overfilled by scrunched up sheets of paper, and you lost count of how many letters you have written. Your hands were sour and you just wanted to get this over with, but at the same time there was a small part of you that told you to proofread for the millionth time. "Nnngurhhhghg!" You groaned as you pounded into your pillow.

You sincerely hoped Ashido can't hear you from next door, because she would surely make a big deal out of it. Not that you didn't like Ashido or anything, but you knew she wasn't the best at keeping her mouth shut. "Ugh, fine," you muttered as you got up from your bed and stormed to your desk. You folded the letter neatly and slid it into your little pink envelope. You sealed the envelope with wax. Old fashioned, yes, but you were kind of into that. You had a collection of wax stamps and you post wax stamping videos on tiktok, since it was satisfying. Of course, nobody in the class except Todoroki actually knows about it.

Now here was the real question. When do you give it to him?

"Back to groaning?" You asked yourself in the small mirror you stuck on the wall. You nodded. "Back to groaning it is." You plopped on your bed and covered your face with the pillow and rolled around back and forth making weird muffled noises.

The next day, you carefully stuck the letter in your textbook before stuffing it into your backpack.

"Good morning (Y/N)," Todoroki greeted you during breakfast. The seat on his left was open for you. Your heart clenched at the sight of him. Seeing his soft smile first thing in the morning was enough to make your day.

"Good morning Shou-kun," you smiled at him as you sat down next to him. Today was the day. You're going to find some time to hand the letter to him. But when?

"Something wrong (Y/N)?" Todoroki asked.

"Huh? N-No, nothing's wrong. Why?" you chuckled at him.

"You looked like something is bothering you. Is it the math homework? Do you need help?"

Oh god you love this man. "No, it's nothing, really! Thanks for worrying about me Shou-kun!" you told him.

You walked to class with Todoroki, Midoriya, Uraraka, and Iida. Everything was normal, but your backpack, for some reason, seemed to weigh twice as much as usual. In class you kept flipping through your textbook to glance at the letter, as if making sure it's still there. You thought you were being discreet about it, but little did you know you had eyes on you from all over the class.

During break time your friends were engaged in a conversation, so you missed your chance to give him the letter. Lunch break was too chaotic. Then you had hero training... As time went on you became less and less sure of yourself. Should you really give the letter to him? What if he doesn't want to be your friend anymore? Should you give it to him discreetly? Or do you give it to him directly? Should you just stick it in his desk? No.... You can't seem to find the right time when no one's in the class. How about the shoe box? But there's always people walking around the halls too.....

"Is it just me or has (Y/N) been acting weird today?" asked Kaminari, who happened to sit next to you in class. "I kept seeing her flip through her English textbook throughout the whole day." You had gone to the restroom during break between your math and physics class in the afternoon.

"Oh yeahhh, I saw her roaming around the shoe box area today. She was acting very sus," said Sero.

"Oh yeah, I saw her walking around holding an envelope. Wonder when she'll mail that out," Kirishima added.

"Envelope?!" the girls exclaimed.

Mina's eyes started to sparkle. "It's a love letter! It's definitely a love letter!"

"W-Wait, you don't know that!" Jirou exclaimed.

"It has to be! I mean think about it, why else would she be walking around the shoe box area if she wasn't planning on putting the letter in someone's box?!" Hagakure beamed.

The whole class started to play detective, trying to guess who the mystery man is. Meanwhile Todoroki sat there feeling really weird. There was a strange churn in his stomach, and a tight clench in his heart. His brows furrowed tightly without himself even noticing. There was only one thing on his mind. Who is the love letter for?

Everyone got super quiet when you came back, acting natural as they all sat down in their seats waiting for physics to start. During the whole lecture, people darted their eyes at you, to confirm what Kaminari said about you and the English textbook. And you didn't disappoint. You had been flipping through that textbook every other minute, a very conflicted expression playing on your face.

Todoroki had no idea why he felt angry. No, that was an understatement. He was infuriated, but he didn't know why. It was your freedom to like whoever you liked, so why is he so angry about it?

When school was over, you still hadn't given the letter to him. At this point you were thinking about giving up. Doubts filled your thoughts and you were sure by now that this was a stupid idea. It'll ruin your friendship, and that's the last thing you want. You'll have to get rid of this letter before anyone notices it.

"(Y/N), you wanna go back to the dorm together?" Todoroki asked you. He felt guilty for keeping you to him, because he knew you still hadn't delivered the letter yet. However, there was a voice inside him that told him to do whatever it takes to stop you from delivering that letter.

"Ah! Okay!" You were quick to respond. If you weren't going to confess, all you can do is enjoy every moment with him. "Do you wanna do homework together?"

Todoroki eyed your backpack, which he knew the envelope was in. "Yeah."

While the two of you did your homework in his room, he kept eyeing your English textbook. You haven't touched it since you took it out of your backpack. You seemed to be avoiding English homework, focusing on your worse subjects such as math and physics. The longer he stared at the textbook, the tighter his chest felt. "Who is it?" He blurted out.

"What?" Your head shot up from your homework, confused eyes meeting his heterochromatic orbs.

"The lucky guy. Who is it?" he asked. "The one you wrote the letter for."

Your face immediately heated up a thousand degrees. Your mouth hung open but words trafficked at the tip of your tongue. "H-How did you- I-I thought-"

"Sorry.... Kirishima was the one who noticed your letter.... I was just wondering..." Todoroki rubbed the back of his neck. He hated the way you blushed at the mentioning of the letter. "Whoever that guy is, he must be really amazing."

"I-I...uh-.....well.....um....y-yeah....he is....." You had no idea what you were doing. Words came out all jumbled, and you didn't know what to say to him.

Todoroki's fist clenched under the table. "Who is it?"

"W-Why do you want to know?" you asked.

"I just-" That's right. It's none of his business. "Never mind. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"It's you," You blurted. You took in the sight of him widening his eyes at you. It was too late to regret, so you just continued. "The letter is addressed to you...." You took out the letter from your English textbook. You slid the letter towards him and packed up your bags. "I'll....go back to my room. Feel free to take as long as you need with your reply." You burst out of his room and dashed across the floor to your dorm.

You did it. You gave it to him. You slammed the dorm room door closed behind you before sliding down against it. You held your head in both hands, groaning to yourself. Oh no.... Why?!?!! Why did I give it to him??!!!! GAHHHH! You were ready to jump off this building. Goodbye world, you've had a good life.

You were absolutely conflicted between excited and devastated. There was a small part of you that had the tiniest bit of hope that Todoroki returned your feelings, but the realistic part of you knew that your friendship was over. You laid on your bed, hugging your little panda plushy that he gave you for your birthday. You buried your face into the plushy and let it swallow your groans and whines.

Todoroki was left in a blushing mess after reading your letter. The person you like is him. You said you love him. He clutched his chest to feel the rapid beating of his heart. It was beating so hard that he could feel his pulse echoing in his ears. What is this feeling? He was unbelievably happy. Suddenly a voice spoke in his head. I like her. It was his voice. I like her so much.

A long time had passed since you went back to your room. You knew you told him to take as long as he need, but you didn't realize that each second felt agonizingly long as you anticipated how he was going to reject you.

You were about to fall asleep when you heard someone knocking at your door. You half hoped it wasn't Todoroki, because you weren't ready for a rejection just yet. Taking in a deep breath, you opened the door to meet a familiar pair of heterochromatic orbs, the ones you loved so much. "Shou-kun..."

"Can I come in?" he asked.

"Of course." You made way for him to step inside, then you closed the door. He held the envelope in his hand.

"I read your letter," he told you. Your eyes were still a little bit blurry from closing them for so long, but you thought you vaguely saw a hint of redness on his cheeks.

"O-Oh..." You rubbed the back of your neck. "It was cheesy, wasn't it?"

"N-no...it was sweet," he replied, making the blush on your face deepen.

"I-I see..." You looked down. There was an awkward silence between the two of you. You just fidgeted as you waited for him to collect his words. Surely he must have felt guilty for rejecting a friend, so you gave him time.

"I like you too..."

What?

You looked up, eyes wide and awake. The redness on his cheek had become quite obvious. "Pardon?"

"I like you too.... A lot. I-...I was wondering if you um...." He held the envelope up, eyes darting back and forth between you and the door. "If you want to be my girlfriend...."

Holy shit.....

You slapped yourself in the face.

"(Y/N)?!?!?!?!" Todoroki exclaimed, completely horrified.

"It hurts..." you muttered at the stinging sensation on your left cheek.

"Well of course it does! It's turning red! Why did you slap yourself so hard?" Todoroki exclaimed as he quickly placed his right hand over your cheek. The cool temperature on his hand was really soothing to the pain on your face.

You chuckled, "I wanted to make sure I was actually awake!"

"Don't do that again," he said softly, brows furrowed as he gazed at you. "Promise me."

"I won't do it again Shou-kun, I promise!" You placed a hand over his right hand, tilting your head a little to rest your face in his hand. "I'm so happy this isn't a dream."

"(Y/N)..."

"Hmm?"

"Can I kiss you?"

"Yes please." You tip toed to meet his lips. You were intrigued by how half of his lip felt hot, and the other felt almost chilly. Maybe it was because he was using his quirk to cool your face. "I love you Shou-kun. I want to be your girlfriend."

"I love you too (Y/N). I want to be your boyfriend."

A/N: You know how some people spell Shouto with a ‘u’ and some people spell it Shoto, well I tend to go back and forth with it depending on my mood LOL. Idk why. Anyways! Please like if you enjoyed, and reblogs are appreciated!!! If you like my BNHA content, be sure to check out my AO3 which I post my main Bakugou x OC fanfic.

[one-leaf-grimoire]

i mean hey if you decide to write that Julius closet one I can assure you that none of us would mind 👀👀👀

// lmao fuck you now I have to >;( *winking while scowling* I've been saving this one for a while so enjoy~

Warning: spicy, terrible pick up lines, dubcon if you squint real hard oops

You always knew when Julius was about to start flirting with you by the way he walked up to you. It was something in the way he moved that gave it away... or maybe the look on his face. "Aha, heyy there," he said, "casually" leaning against the wall next to you. "You know, I was thinking... maybe we should have dinner tonight? Because you're looking delicious this morning. Aha, just kidding.. unless-"

Before he can continue, you hear a familiar pair of footsteps coming your way. "Julius!!! You better not be slacking off again!!"

Julius panics and looks around, his eyes falling on a door. "Come on!" Before you could object, he grabbed your arm and dragged you with him into what turned out to be the tiniest broom closet in the entire castle. Just as soon as the door closed, Marx came around the corner, looking around. "Jeez, did he teleport away again?"

Meanwhile, the situation was... awkward. The closet was TINY, and you found yourself pressed against the wall as he crowded you with his larger body. His hands were still on your arms, and there wasn't much either of you could do but hold your breaths.

Marx dropped his papers on the ground. "For goodness sakes!" He started to gather them up slowly.

A few more moments in the closet didn't sound so bad... I mean, it could have been worse-

You accidentally shift and brush your body against his. Almost instantly, you feel it. Right where his hips meet yours... Good thing this closet was dark, because your face immediately turned bright red. You feel him tense up as well, still letting his hands linger on your arms. The skin of his palm is burning against your skin.

...hmmm. Maybe, since we're in this position anyway...

Discreetly, you shifted your body just enough that you could arch your back, pressing even farther against his hips. This gets a reaction this time, a barely audible grunt. His "problem" starts to grow worse, and you're bold enough to squirm. However, one of his hands comes down to grab your hips. "Hey, uh," he barely whispers, still worried about being heard. "W-we should try and be still..." You squirm again, and he inhales sharply.

"Oh? Is there something wrong, sir?" you whispered cheekily, arching your back even more. Cautiously, Julius grinds into your movement. "You're... doing that on purpose, aren't you?"

Suppressing a giggle, you nod in response. Julius slowly leans forward, and you find yourself pressed flush against the wall in one swift moment. One of his hands comes up and ghosts around your neck as he whispers in your ear, "...bad girl."

You sober up a bit at his tone. "Ah... I think Marx is gone now, maybe we should go-"

"Go? After you've teased me so much?" He increases the pressure of his hold, earning a soft cry. "No... I need to show you what happens when you tempt me."

Oh boy. With weak knees, you let out a soft whimper, the warmth of his body slowly increasing your own arousal. That's all the encouragement he needs, and you feel his large hand slip under your skirt, and quickly tug down your tights and underwear. His fingers don't waste any time in plunging inside you, pumping only three times before he loses patience. It's not like you need much help, after all.

"Arch your back again," he orders softly, and you obey without question. "Good..." You hear the rustle of clothing and suddenly something... hard is poking your wetness. With a stifled groan, he suddenly pushes in, filling you up in one smooth glide. "Mm..." He thrusts a few times, shallowly, but pauses when you whine softly. "Too much?"

You quickly shake your head, your pussy pulsing around him. "N-No, please, keep going-"

His lips latch onto your neck as he starts again, a bit gentler this time. Each moment is more mind-blowing than the last, he's hitting every sweet spot perfectly. His body rippling against yours sends shivers down your spine, and it takes everything within you to keep from moaning out his name loudly. It's not long before you're right at the edge of an orgasm, your knees threatening to give out.

Unfortunately, Julius slows down right as it's about to happen. "You have terrible stamina," he teases lightly, his large hands massaging your waist. "You wanted my cock that bad, hmm?"

There was no denying it, even if this wasn't the situation you imagined. His thrusts become more deliberate and deep. Luckily, his hand slips under your skirt and starts to circle your clit, giving you the pleasure you so desperately needed. "You look so nice like this... Go ahead, cum for me."

One more thrust and it's over. Your body trembles from the force and your legs give out. Julius wraps an arm around you to keep you from falling, speeding up a bit to let you ride out the climax. A moment later, he's painting your walls white, warmth spilling out from between your legs.

You lean against the wall, completely spent, listening to him catch his breath as well. His hands gently turn you around to look at him, and you give a tired smile. "That... was..."

"Good?" You shook your head. "A-amazing..." With a chuckle, he leans in and kisses you softly, a stark difference from how he just fucked you. "I'm glad... I'm sorry it had to be in a closest."

"It's alright... that was hot," You blushed a little in the darkness, reaching up ti touch his face. "I wanted you for so long..."

"Well, you got me now... hook line and sinker."

"... is that a fishing reference?"

"Maybe... it's appropriate, since I got you so wet~"

"!! Julius!"

[ticklygiggles]

Only happens at FernGully

A/N: Thanks to our anonymous supporter ☕! I’ve never seen FernGully before, but I thank you very much for your detailed request and also for being very helpful at sending that scene fragment! I hope you find this enjoyable! ♥

Summary: A little Genderbend AU of the movie FernGully, where Crysta becomes Cris and Zak is Zoey (based on the scene linked above).

Words: 1551 (Under the cut!)

Zoey couldn't believe her eyes. This place was simply beautiful, beyond any place she had ever seen. Nature stretching from end to end: tall, leafy trees; rivers as clear as crystal, creating a relaxing melody, animals of all kinds happily running around, eating fresh berries and drinking clean water.

She could even smell nature, purifying her lungs as she traveled in a leafboat, a leafboat! Really, what size was she now?

Zoey could also feel Cris' eyes on her. Perhaps feeling far more curious for the strange creature before his eyes than for the beautiful landscape that he could see every single day. 

Zoey was simply breathless. "What is this place?" She asked in amazement. 

"This is FernGully," Cris answered as a matter of fact, even shrugging his shoulders a little. 

FernGully? Who would say that fairies really exist! Living in a place as beautiful as this. 

Her eyes were not enough to see the whole panorama, and perhaps that was the reason why she did not realize that their small leafboat had reached the end of the river, not until it fell over the waterfall.

She screamed, tightly closing her eyes and even holding her breath, but suddenly, she no longer felt the cold air hitting her face, but only the light breeze that came from the waterfall.

Opening her eyes in fear, Zoey found herself upside down, arms and one of her legs dangling. She was caught in mid air! She looked around, and then up a little, finding herself face first to a beetle. A real beetle was right in front of her, and feeling grossed out, but also scared, Zoey could only gasp and feel her body going rigid. 

Maybe if she didn't move the beetle would go away? But wait- was the beetle actually keeping her from falling?!

"Hey, Cris, what's this?" A sudden deep voice said and Zoey raised her head immediately, finding that, in fact, the beetle wasn’t the one holding her, but this guy, riding the beetle, had his hand wrapped around one of her ankles. 

Was it also… some kind of fairy?

She blinked a couple of times, flinching a little when the guy pointed his finger at her. Zoey frowned and she opened her mouth to say her name, but she could see something moving from the corner of her eye and turned her head around.

More curious beetle guys were approaching her to see what was going on and Zoe could only whimper as she was suddenly surrounded.  

"Careful, Stump!" Cris finally spoke up. "That's a human!" 

"A human?" They all asked curiously. “What’s a human?”

“M-My name is Zoey!” She said, tired of them talking as if she weren’t there. “Thank you from saving me before, now could you please put me somewhere e-

“What does it taste like?”

Zoey’s words got stuck in her throat and she widened her eyes. Did he really ask- 

“EEEK!” She shrieked when she felt a sudden tongue licking up her stomach. Her cheeks turned bright red and her arms came up over her middle, trying to give it the protection her crop top wasn’t giving it. “What do you think you’re doing?! Gross! Let me down!”

"It makes funny sounds!" The guy that licked her said excitedly, moving closer to her as Zoey tried to bring herself away from him and his beetle. 

“Guys, I told you to be careful!” Cris said and Zoey tried to look at him - that little butt, why wasn’t he helping her?!

“Put me down! Don’t you dare use your tongues on me ag- AHAHAhaha!” A sudden cackle broke through her when she felt a poke to her belly button. “Hehehey! Stohohop thahat!” 

“Woah, it’s laughing!”

“I think it likes it,” another one said as he saw how Zoey was under an attack of hysterical laughter as the finger poking her navel started to wiggle. “It’s laughing so much!”

“Dohohohon’t! Stahahahap this!” Zoey giggled, trying to cover her belly. “M-My nahahahame is Z-Zo- ahaha! Stop tickling mehehehe!”

How did this turn this way? She didn’t know, but she knew it was barely the start of it when she heard one of them asking: “Tickling? What’s tickling?”

They stopped for a moment to look at each other. Meanwhile, a little breathless, Zoey tried to free herself from the hand around her ankle. She raised her torso up and pushed at this Stump guy’s arm, but she couldn’t move him at all. 

She growled and lifted her face to look for Cris as the beetle guys talked about what could tickling possibly be. There he was, looking back at her with the tiniest of smiles. He was having fun watching her like this. 

“Cris! What are you doing there?! Help me out, I don’t- ahahaha! Stohohop, I said!” She laughed, squeaking when she felt sudden soft scribbles against her sides.

She couldn’t hold up her own weight any longer and let herself fall again as she tried to push the hands poking, scribbling and pinching at her sides and waist.

Being upside down, she felt even more uncoordinated than other times she had been tickled. It seemed that these creatures didn’t know what tickling was, but they certainly knew how to move their fingers to make Zoey want to crawl out of her skin.

There was no way to escape. She couldn’t twist as much as she wanted, nor squirm away from the touches moving to her stomach, also, her arms were getting tired from having them fighting against gravity and laughter just wouldn’t stop pouring out of her mouth.

“Ahaha! Plehehease, not thehehere!” She begged, letting out soft and cute girly laughs when awkward fingers moved to her poor tummy.

She wished she had worn something else, but how would she know she was not only getting shrinked today, but also tickled like this?! Her tummy was so painfully sensitive, their awkward and exploring fingers were enough to drive her crazy.

“What is this tickling, human?” 

“Do you like the tickling, human?”

“You’re laughing so much, human!”

“CRIHIHIS! Hehehelp me, plehehehease!” Her eyes were shut as she laughed, so she couldn’t see when Cris actually decided to approach them until she heard his voice. 

“Certainly, Zoey,” Cris said with a finger tapping his chin as Zoey managed to open one of her eyes to look at him. “Why do you want them to stop if you are laughing so much? Is tickling not good?”

Was he teasing her?! Or didn’t he also know what tickling was? She couldn’t tell, especially not when a finger poked her belly button again, wiggling in it until she was cackling hysterically.

“I’m s-seheheherious! It’s tihihicklish! Plehehehase!” She begged, trying to at least cover her navel, but her arms felt too heavy. “Nahahahat thehehere!”

“What’s ticklish?” Cris asked, but Zoey could only shriek and laugh hysterically as the tickling to her belly button continued. 

She was really going crazy! It tickled so bad! Zoey had never experienced tickling like this before! She didn’t even know she was this ticklish! But here she was, laughing her mind out as nasty beetles surrounded her. 

She needed to find a way to make them stop. 

“Its arms keep getting in the way!” The tiniest of them all said and before Zoey could react, he was holding her wrists and pulling them down, making Zoey shriek as she was being exposed to them like that. 

“Leheheht go! Let gohohoahahaha!” More bright, hysterical laughter escaped her mouth as fingers found her stomach again. Her skin was taut to their discovering fingers as they clawed, wiggled and pinched at her soft skin.

Cris, feeling a little curious, started to poke at Zoey’s exposed armpits and she shrieked, shaking her head as she howled with laughter. 

It tickled so bad! She couldn’t bring her arms up and could barely squirm as this little guy holding her wrists hang onto her a little. 

“Crihihihis! Hehehehelp mehehehe, not thehehem!” She said, feeling her eyes starting to fill with laughter-induced tears.

Cris only chucked, changing his poking to gentle rubs with his thumbs against Zoey’s armpits. “I’m just curious. Why is this so funny?”

Zoey couldn’t answer. There was no way words could form between all of that laughter, but she managed as her laughter was getting a bit wheezy:

“Ihihihi’ll tehehehell you!” She cried out, feeling her whole body buzzing. “I’ll tehehehell you what tihihihckling ihihihis!” She promised, in hopes of having them stopping. “Plehehease!”

They didn’t stop right away, but Zoey could hear a weird sound coming from Stump before he mumbled “Hooman!” and started to fly away, Zoey still on his grip.

“Cris!” She shrieked and the rest of the beetle guys started to chase after them. 

“Wait up, Stump! I also want to know what tickling is!” They were saying as Zoey was dragged to who-knew-where. 

Oh goodness, what was going to happen now? She was glad the tickling had stopped, but she was now on the way to another problem and she was not ready of it. 

“Hey, where are you going!” She heard Cris yelling out and she allowed herself to feel a little happy because he was actually chasing them.

At least he could save her from being eaten by another weird creature, right? … Right?!

[halfwaythereroyalwrites]

Electric (Poe Dameron x Reader) - Kilig

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Warning: This can be read alone or as part of the Kilig series. Cursing. No other warnings I can think of unless your secondhand embarrassment is really bad. 

Word count: 1,940 words

A/N: Thank you for showing love for my fics. It makes me so happy that people like it. Check out my other Star Wars Kilig series for Cassian Andor and The Mandalorian! Feel free to message me if you have any comments, requests, or want to be added to a taglist! 

Kilig is a Tagalog word to describe the feeling of excitement and exhilaration and possibly embarrassment from anything remotely romantic.

Part 1 + Part 2 + Part 4 + Masterlist

______________________________________

He knew.

Poe definitely knew what he was doing.

The infuriatingly hot idiot knew what he was doing to me. When we were sauntering over to the mess hall, he made a point to walk so close to me that our arms constantly brushed against each other. BB-8 enforced this closeness by rolling on my other side, effectively sandwiching me between it and the handsome pilot. While we were picking out our food, I could feel his close presence behind me, and if I didn’t think that we had magnetic attraction back then, we definitely had it now. Despite my best efforts to keep my distance from him, the nagging temptation of reaching out and touching him lingered in the back of my mind. The need to touch him felt almost like a twitch in my fingers, traveling all the way up my arms. The white-knuckled grip I held on my food tray was a desperate attempt to anchor down my hands to keep from reaching out to him.

After picking out our food, he and I walked side-by-side to a vacant table, making small talk about the happenings of our day, so far. BB-8 was rolling behind us, in a manner I could have sworn was much too self-satisfied. The small proud beeps coming from the BB unit added to my suspicion that BB-8 was a part of the plan. I placed my tray on the table and took a seat, fully expecting Poe to walk to the other side of the table. Instead, he placed his tray right next to mine and took his seat. My eyes followed his actions in disbelief, mouth slightly agape at the boldness of this man. We were seated so close to each other that I can feel his body heat radiating off of him and onto me, adding to the humidity of Ajan Kloss and the heat currently creeping its way up my neck.

“What are you doing?” I questioned, eyebrow raised and the tiniest of grins sneaking onto my lips at his actions.

“What? I can hear you better this way,” Poe smirked in response. BB-8 beeped in a questioning tone, head faced towards Poe who answered. “Yeah buddy. You can go back and charge now.” The BB unit beeped its farewell to the both of us before rolling away to his charging base.

“Did you put BB-8 up to this?” I asked, taking my first bite out of my meal.

“It was BB-8’s idea!” Poe refuted. “Besides, I’ve been trying to talk to you all this time, but you keep avoiding me.”

“I was not avoiding you.”

“Yeah tell that to the time you walked straight into a wall when we saw each other by the hangar last week.”

“…you saw that?”

“I don’t blame you,” Poe grinned. “This thing is electric, isn’t it.”

“Again,” I put up a finger to stop this train of thought. I waved my finger between the two of us. “ This is not a thing.”

“You say that, but you’re smiling.” He knowingly pointed at the upturned corners of my lips. A mischievous look on his carved face

“I am…” lying to myself at this point, I thought. “…just happy…that they had meilooruns here.” I turned my body forward and took a bite of the sweet fruit, hiding the beaming smile threatening to make its way onto my face. Poe was so persistent, and he was stating the obvious. His mere presence was electric. Merely sitting here having lunch with him was exhilarating, almost as if experiencing Poe was a great adventure in and of himself.

“I can practically hear your thoughts, babe.”

I hadn’t realized I was absentmindedly taking small bites of my food while Poe remained quiet, observing me. “Oh yeah? What am I thinking right now?”

“Probably thinking about how we’d make a cute couple. Maybe planning our first date. Don’t you worry about that,” Poe tapped his temple with his finger. “I got it all planned.” I whipped around to face him, my eyes wide and mouth agape at his incredulous words. Poe merely sat there, amused at my shocked reaction. He took a large bite of his meiloorun, and the sweet juices dribbled down his full lips. Before they could drip down to his chin, his brought his thumb to his lower lip to wipe away any excess. I realized I had been ogling his lips for a damning amount of time and peered up to lock onto his knowing eyes. Meanwhile, his thumb remained on his lip, emphasizing the full, pouty (and probably soft) nature of them. Poe caught my eyes sneaking a glance at his lips again and gave me an audacious wink. I quickly pressed my lips together to suppress a smile, but again, the corners of my mouth betrayed my mind and reflected the amusement I felt from his boldness.

Oh yeah. Poe definitely knew what he was doing to me.

Poe chuckled at my attempts to repress my smile and slowly leaned closer. He opened his mouth, no doubt to make some witty remark, when a familiar voice from the opposite side of the table cut in.

“Poe! Y/N! What’s up?!” Finn beamed, clanging his tray on to the table. He plopped down and dug in to his lunch, paying no mind to the fact Poe was leaning toward my face, and I was side-eyeing him in confusion and a hint of annoyance. Rose Tico was with him but remained standing. She politely smiled and greeted us.

“Hey guys! I hope you don’t mind,” Rose added, also glancing at Finn sideways for clearly interrupting our lunch.

“No, not at all!” I turned to face the two while Poe remained facing me. Rose sat down, and I felt Poe’s forehead lean against my shoulder. His soft groan of frustration elicited a slight giggle out of me. I shrugged his head off my shoulder and caught his eyes. Poe’s big, brown eyes clearly bore frustration at the intrusion. I raised my eyebrow in question  to which Poe merely shook his head in response. He bit his lower lip before turning his body forward to face our new guests.

“Finn. Rose. Didn’t expect to see you guys here,” Poe remarked. His tone low and laced with the tiniest hints of irritation.

“What? In the mess hall? At the same time we usually eat lunch together?” Finn managed to garble out the questions while chewing a full mouth of food.

“Finn!” Rose bumped her shoulder against his, prompting him to look at her. “Close your mouth. That’s gross.”

“What? I’m starved, love. Leia’s got me training with Rey at the break of dawn every day. I haven’t eaten!” Finn swallowed his mouth of food and quickly took several more bites. Poe kept his eyes on the man in front of him, burning a hole at the top of Finn’s head. Finn, on the other hand, was oblivious to the world outside of him and his food. He kept his head, practically inhaling his meal.

“Y/N, I heard you’re going to be running point on missions now,” Rose chimed in, breaking the awkward silence that had settled between the four of us. I nodded in confirmation. “That’s great! Do you know when you’re starting?”

“I don’t know yet.” I responded. “Leia just said to stay ready, so I’m waiting on standby until she calls me in.” I felt an arm slide its way onto the back of my chair. I kept my gaze pointedly on Rose, who took note of Poe’s arm. She grinned and bumped her shoulder against Finn’s again. Finn looked up at Rose, his cheeks puffed out and filled with food. Rose “subtly” gestured to us by cocking her head in our direction. Finn whipped his head to observe Poe and me, analyzing the scene in front of him. I sat straight, my back purposely not leaning on the back of my chair to avoid making contact with Poe’s arm. My mind and body were in a battle to fight the tempting urge to lean into Poe’s side. Meanwhile, Poe’s arm casually rested  on the back of my chair, his body leaning towards mine. Finn looked between the two of us before pausing…

“Ooohhhhh…” Finn swallowed his food down before asking. “Are you guys…?” He pointed his finger between the two of us.

“No.” “Yes.” We responded simultaneously. I smacked the back of my hand against his chest.

“Ow!” Poe dramatically grunted in response, and he quickly caught my offending hand against his chest. He held my hand and squeezed it in his grip, before letting go. The combined heat of Poe being next to me, Ajan Kloss, and the growing heat in my cheeks were starting to make me sweat, but I dared not hint at any flustered reaction while Poe was watching me.

“We could leave you guys alone if you want to sort it out,” Rose offered, a mischievous look on her face. Funny. I never took my sweet friend, Rose Tico, to be a traitor.

“No. There’s nothing to sort out,” I gritted. Rose feigned innocence by holding her hands up before finally taking a bite out of her meal. Poe’s hand made its way to my shoulder, his thumb rubbing circles into my skin. His other hand started to dig into his meal. What surprised me was how natural this all felt. How his touch felt as comforting as home. I gave in to the temptation and leaned into his side, reveling in the warmth and security he provided. Poe responded by bringing his arm in, bringing me closer, and his hand continuing to draw circles on to my back. Finn and Rose took notice of our change in position, turned their heads to each other, and grinned knowingly. These two didn’t even have the courtesy to hide their obvious amusement at the events unfolding. Poe paid them no mind, instead focusing on his meal while occasionally glancing at me. Our conversation flowed freely, switching from funny tales of past missions and base gossip.

“If BB-8 hadn’t told Poe, his ass would have left me on that damn planet!” We collectively laughed at Finn’s tale of the time Poe had been in such a hurry to leave that he almost left Finn behind.

“I was just checking the engines!” Poe exclaimed!

“Stop your lying, Dameron. The landing gear was gone by the time I saw the ship!” Rose and I continued laughing at Finn and Poe’s argument. Poe was about to delve into his side of the story when one of the intel officers came up to our table and interrupted.

“Finn. Commander Dameron. General Organa requests your presence at command center,” the officer announced.

“We’ll be right there,” Poe replied. The officer nodded and walked away. Finn and Poe looked at each other and nodded. I watched Poe wipe his mouth off with a tissue before looking at me.

“Lunch again tomorrow?” Poe asked.

“I’ll meet you here,” I smiled. Poe returned my smile and brought me closer to kiss my cheek before bidding goodbye to Rose. My cheeks immediately went up in flames at his actions. He got up from the table the same time as Finn. Finn slapped Poe’s back, grinning. They walked out of the mess hall together as Rose and I watched their retreating figures. When they had disappeared from view, Rose and I turned to look at each other.

“So…You and Poe are a thing now, right?”

“Shut up.”

[caravaggiosbrushes]

99, joplittle? I can imagine Little saying that.

Hello!! This is my first ever joplittle, aaa I hope it will be good decent okay. thank you for the prompt, I love it! i also got the same one asked for a fitzier so this will be fun, i’ll try to go with two different vibes :}

also WHOOPS, this got out of hand and obviously isn’t a drabble anymore. I hope that’s alright. Hope you like it and thanks again! :*

99: "Don't look at me like that"

Once in a while, when Luck kisses him right in the centre of his forehead, HMS Terror’s Lieutenant Edward Little gets to experience something he values more than any golden treasure: being alone with HMS Terror’s steward Thomas Jopson.

Sometimes it happens in Terror’s great cabin, for just a mere few seconds, -after everyone else has already left and Edward has made sure to adjust his coat and hat very slowly so that he can steal one last glance at Jopson, before leaving all that beauty behind to venture into the freezing unknown,- but on some other memorable occasions they happened to be in the same room for more than just a couple of breaths, and well, that’s everything he hopes for and has been hoping for, every day for the greatest part of the past two years.

This morning, Fate and Luck both must have granted him with a kiss on each cheek, because he seems to keep crossing paths with Jopson whenever he goes: starting from that morning, when he caught a quick glimpse of him leaving Crozier’s cabin, -all precise motions and slightly furrowed eyebrows in concentration of whatever task he was dealing with,- up until now, when Jopson has found him in the pantry room, double checking the quantity of their supplies.

“Oh.” Comes the soft sound of surprise when the door opens, revealing his angelic face. Jopson’s eyes are big and wonderful in the dim light of the only lantern Edward has with him, and he wishes he could look at them from up close, see all the different shades of that icy light-blue, light-green incredible color.

It’s such a wonderful surprise that his mind goes blank for a moment before he can bring himself to greet him, “Jopson.”

“I’m sorry sir, I didn’t mean to disturb.” He’s already moving to close the door, “I will come back later.”

“I wouldn’t mind some company.” Edward hurries to says, maybe with a little too much force, but it makes him stop, and that’s everything he wanted. Jopson lifts his gaze up on him and this time it stays there and Edward is totally captured by it. He offers him a small, reassuring smile, praying it won’t look as eager as it is. “Please, you can stay.”

Jopson simply nods and thanks him with one of those sweet smiles of his, as if Edward had just paid him the greatest compliment (how he wishes he could do that. God only knows all the compliments and sweet and filthy things he has whispered to Thomas Jopson in the privacy of his own sick mind) and heads to one corner of the room, looking for something Edward doesn’t care in the slightest right now: the only thing he’d want Jopson to focus on his himself.

Which turns out to be a thought he immediately regrets, only a few minutes later, because Jopson keeps looking at him, and yes, yes, this is exactly what Edward wanted, that’s the issue: it makes it impossible to focus on anything else. Comparing the numbers on his list to the actual tins is now the hardest task ever; he keeps losing count of the veal tomato stew tins he has already counted three times; the list in his hands has became a blur of nonsense black scribbles.

He doesn’t even know what Jopson is doing here in the pantry room and he would like to ask, but he’s afraid that if he’d open his mouth now his sick thoughts concerning the stewart would come out as well.

Meanwhile Jopson keeps stealing quick glances at him and Edward is so weak when it comes to him, so weak, so he finds himself doing exactly the same thing: looking over his own shoulder to steal a glance at him, only to find him already looking in his direction. Jopson’s eyes are clear and calm and welcoming, every time they meet his own. Edward has never been good at making small talk and he knows he has no obligations toward a steward -but Jopson is so much more than that, isn’t he?- but he tries is best to say this and that, only to have an excuse to talk to him and look at him while he answers -always politely, in a soft but self-assured tone. Well-mannered, but not weak, he’s so far from being a weak man.

It feels like some kind of game they are playing and Edward loves it, would like to keep going forever.

Jopson seems to gain confidence by the minute and stops fleeting his gaze: instead he starts looking at him with a soft, sincere smile, making it even more unbearable to witness and not touch, and Edward can’t take this sweet torture any longer.

"Don't-" He has to lower his own gaze, running away like a coward from Jopson’s lovely stare, “Don’t look at me like that. Please.”

He doesn't immediately offer a reply and Edward silently chastises himself for speaking in the haste of the moment, not measuring his words better. He risks a look to the steward’s face and surprisingly find no anger or shame on it, just harmless curiosity and a sweet shadow of confusion, which makes him look a bit lost, like a child who has ventured a bit too far in the woods. Edward would gladly takes his hand to help him out of it.

There is also a trace of worry on his beautiful face, which is absurd, but Jopson is always ready to worry and care for everyone else, quietly and effectively, it’s literally his job after all (but is it just that? Edwards muses, or is it his kind soul, that he can see shining through his soft barely-there smiles and big, gleaming eyes?) so perhaps it makes sense, perhaps he’s used to always put everyone else before himself (Edward would change that: he would gladly be the one caring for him when Jopson forgets).

The stewart turns fully towards him, giving him his thorough attention. He straightens his back, lifts his chin up and tilts his head to the side, just a touch. His voice is full of respect for his superior, but has a hint of- playfulness when he says, “How am I looking at you, sir?”

“Like…” He thinks about the right way to say it. “Your eyes are just-” the most precious thing I’ve ever seen and being looked at by you feels like a constant blessing that I’m sure I’m not worthy of, and how could he say that? “You stare at me a lot.” He resign to say, trying his hardest not to sound annoyed by it.

Jopson parts his lips as to speak, but nothing comes out. There is a small, but meaningful crease of concern in between his eyebrows.

“I apologize, sir.” He says, offering a polite smile, regaining his composure, “I will make sure it won’t happen again.” He bows his head and turns his back to him, starting to apparently pick up everything he has collected.

Edward can’t have him leaving like this, not now.

“Wait.”

Jopson stops. He slowly turns around to face Edward again: his gaze goes to Edward’s face, but he quickly fixes it down somewhere on his chest, his face more troubled than what Edward would like.

“Yes, sir?”

He’s not smiling anymore and Edward feels that loss almost achingly.

“I didn’t say I mind it.” He tries to use a conversational tone that doesn’t betray the erratic beating of his heart. “Nor that you should stop.”

Even if Jopson is not looking at his face anymore Edward notices his eyes getting bigger and even more shinier, accompanied by the tiniest curl of a smile.

Jopson finally lifts his gaze on his face again. He looks straight into his eyes. “Are you sure, sir?”

“I am.” He will always be.

“Then I won’t stop." Those sweet dimples appear around his smile, "It will be a pleasure.”

Edward can feel his own heart skipping a beat as soon as the fear of having ruined this moment melts away. He’s about to say something, but Jopson takes a step towards the door, which accidentally also means towards Edward and says: “And it would be an even greater pleasure to have you looking at me, sir, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

Edward feels so warm under his- interested stare.

“I,” he has to clear his voice. Jopson’s eyes are crystal clear and so very bright. “I don’t mind, no. I will make sure to make the most out of it.”

Jopson’s voice is lower than how Edward has ever heard it when he says, holding his gaze: “Very good, sir.”

Edward, he thinks, Please, call me Edward.

(Send me a prompt from this list!) + (posted on ao3)

[eddieeatsass]

Pocket Sized - Kinktober 2019 Prompt: Micro/Macro

Summary: Richie comes home to find Eddie sitting on his bed, only, there’s something horrifyingly different about him. Pairing: Reddie Rating: E Warnings: Smut, explicit language Disclaimer: This was given to me as a prompt for Kinktober, as something out of my comfort zone to challenge myself, so I hope I did it justice. I've never even read a micro/macro fic before, as it's not really my thing, but I had a lot of fun with this. Also, this is my first time ever writing something that takes place in the canon world, so let me just take a moment to say FUCK PENISWISE. (also in this fic even when pennywise is in hibernation or whatever, he's still able to terrorize derry in various ways, so... just go with it)

Read on AO3

If living in Derry had taught Richie anything, it was to not be surprised by the sheer weirdness of the going-ons in their town. By the age of 17, so many inexplicable circumstances had wrapped their claws around Richie and dragged him through the mud that he’d have permanent dirt stains on his soul forever.

Things had certainly settled down in the years since him and the other losers had faced Pennywise; a child-eating clown had its way of making other things look small in comparison, but there were still moments when Richie’s spine shook with the frightening reminder that Derry was not a normal town. Like when he’d catch a glimpse of a headless man driving by him on the highway, or when spiders crawled out of Mary Gretsky’s ears in homeroom.

In all the Derry weirdness he’d encountered, however, what was before him was horrifying of a whole other variety.

 “E-Eddie?” Richie stuttered out, still unbelieving what his eyes were telling him. Upon his bed, settled on his pillow like a chocolate truffle at a hotel, was what appeared to be a miniature sized version of his best friend.

A voice responded, familiar, but pitched higher than normal. Richie had to get closer to hear what it was saying.

“Yes it’s me, you idiot. What, do your glasses suddenly not work?” The small Eddie squeaked with a smirk on his lips.

Richie considered it for a second. Could it be his glasses causing this… absurdity? Maybe if he took them off, blinked, and squinted really hard, Eddie would be back to normal. Blurry, but back to normal. He tested the theory, only for Eddie to turn into an out of focus fuzz, now even smaller than before. Richie readjusted his glasses and sighed, admitting defeat to the strangeness that had introduced himself.

“Well excuse me for being a little surprised when I walk into my room and find my tiniest friend has shrunk to an even tinier size.”

“I did it for you… you don’t like it?” Eddie pouted.

“I- you- what?” Richie’s head reeled with the inability to understand all the impossible things developing around him, a pressure creeping itself behind his eye sockets.

He blinked, and suddenly found himself sitting on the bed. He didn’t remember sitting down… didn’t remember walking across the room or dropping his backpack on his desk chair. Yet somehow his environment had changed as if a scene cut in a movie.

A small tickle on his hand brought his attention back to the present. He looked down and saw Eddie was sitting in his palm, idly playing with one of his fingers in curiosity.

“What do you mean you… did this… for me? How- and- and why?” Richie raised Eddie to eye level, holding his hand flat so Eddie stayed cradled within it.

“I know you think about me.” Eddie giggled, as if delighted he’d discovered a secret that Richie hadn’t told anyone. Richie felt his throat begin to close and his ears ring hot.

“You think about how small I am, how big your hands are when you splay them across my back to steer me in the hallway or steal my drink from my hold when we’re at lunch.”

Eddie was reading Richie like a book, a book that Richie himself didn’t even read for fear of indulging in its sinful contents. How had he… how could anyone have known? Richie kept these feelings locked up deep inside; didn’t even dare write his feelings down in a diary, too worried the homophobia around him would materialize into a monster capable of reading and spread all of his dirty thoughts to the world.

“I thought you’d like it even better if I was smaller.” Eddie finished.

When Richie looked back down, he found Eddie completely nude. There weren’t clothes strewn about, it was as if they’d just vanished, as if Eddie had never been wearing them in the first place.

Eddie was smaller alright. In fact, he couldn’t have been bigger than seven, maybe eight inches at most. Richie wanted to laugh at the fact that miniature Eddie was still bigger than Richie’s dick by a couple of inches, though he’d never admit it to anyone.

“Come on Rich, don’t you wanna touch me?” Eddie goaded, tugging on Richie’s thumb impatiently as if he wasn’t giving him enough attention.

“Eds, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Something really weird is going on and I- you’re not yourself right now-”

“I’m better.”

“No, you’re-”

“No one will find out this way, Richie. You can touch me as much as you want, and no one will ever know. I’m the easiest secret to hide; small enough to fit in your pocket.”

Richie knew something was wrong, could feel it creeping up his spine and nudging at the back of his head. But he’d wanted this for so long, had repressed these feelings and thoughts and wants for years… it was hard to deny this little moment of pleasure.

Holding his one hand still, he lifted his other with shaking fingers, but paused halfway when he realized he wasn’t quite sure what to do. Sure, he’d jerked his own cock before, but he’d never… and Eddie was so small now… how was he even meant to…

Eddie smiled calmly, a calm that should have been reassuring, but churned Richie’s gut with nerves instead. Eddie turned over in his palm, getting on all fours and holding on to Richie’s index and ring finger to keep himself steady. What presented itself to Richie was a beautiful sight; two round cheeks spread to reveal a hole so small it looked more like a beauty mark than anything.

Richie finally decided on bringing his finger up and running it down Eddie’s back. Light goosebumps erupted on that tan, freckled flesh, and it caused the same reaction on Richie’s skin as he swallowed thickly.

Repeating the motion, he ran his finger down Eddie’s back, but this time let it slip down between those cheeks that held the promised land Eddie seemed to be offering.

“Fuck…” Richie breathed heavily, just noticing for the first time how hard his cock was in his own pants. He’d been too caught up in the weirdness of it all to think about how undeniably hot this was.

“You don’t have to be so gentle with me, Rich. I’m not gonna break.” Eddie teased, arching his back a little farther. Richie didn’t quite believe him, took in how tiny he really was and thought it impossible to touch him without wrecking him… but wrecking him sounded pretty good, if Richie was being honest.

 Richie brought his hand up to his mouth and darted his tongue out, just once, testing the waters as he lapped at Eddie’s entire backside before pulling away.

Eddie moaned surprisingly loud for such a small body, petering off into a whine as he was pulled away from the wet heat.

“Do that again.” He begged, pulling on Richie’s fingers like they were controls to a machine.

So, of course, Richie obliged. And then again. And then a few times more until Eddie had sat up on his heels and began fucking himself on Richie’s tongue. The tip of it slipped between Eddie’s legs and provided friction for his cock and balls, while the brunt of his tongue stood in as a makeshift chair, on which Eddie writhed like he was on fire.

Richie, meanwhile, was trying to undo his pants one handed, which proved to be a feat harder than it sounded. He imagined it was probably a hilarious sight, his tongue hanging out of his mouth, drooling into the palm of his hand, while his other struggled to get a simple belt undone.

Once he’d finally freed his ruddy cock and gotten a hand around it, Eddie was crawling off his tongue and situating himself on his back, legs spread lewdly in a way that framed a tiny cock of his own. It almost didn’t look real, looked like it might have been molded from clay within a thimble, but the sheen of pre-cum that coated the head proved otherwise.

“Fuck me, Richie.” Eddie said, reclining even further against where he rested against Richie’s fingers.

Richie had to squeeze the base of his cock to keep from cumming immediately. Surely, he couldn’t, there was no way Eddie’s body could take it-

“I can take it.” Eddie answered, as if reading Richie’s mind through his trepidation.

Richie inspected the area, noting that Eddie’s cock, thighs, and ass were all literally dripping with saliva. In fact, he was sort of laying in a small puddle of it, though he didn’t seem at all bothered. Richie wondered if he should still grab the lotion he kept on his bedside table, just in case they needed extra lubrication, but then Eddie was writhing again and ushering the thought to the furthest corner of Richie’s mind.

“Please- Richie- I need you-”

“Right, yeah of course, uhhhhh-”

Richie looked down at his own weeping cock, and then around his room frantically, as if he would be able to find something to help him out. A third hand maybe? He finally settled for laying across his bed on his stomach, pillow under his chest and hips pressed firmly against his soft bed sheets. He propped himself up on his elbows, so both of his hands were in front of him. From this angle, it looked a bit as though he was acting out a puppet show. If it weren’t for the pulsing reminder of the adulthood between his legs, he’d almost have slipped into memories of playing with childhood toys.

With expert precision, Richie eagerly lined his pinky finger up with Eddie’s entrance. From up close, it looked more like a tiny rose bud, puckered up invitingly and fluttering every time Eddie moaned, needy and desperate. Richie swallowed once, held his breath, and began gently pushing against the ring of muscle.

To Richie’s shock, it opened with zero resistance, almost sucking Richie’s finger in until he hit the first knuckle. Now, Richie didn’t know much about bodies, or sex, but he knew from the whispers he’d heard under the bleachers at school that “taking it in the ass hurts” and “queers enjoy the pain”. So, suffice to say, this seemed abnormal. But then again, what wasn’t abnormal about your best friend shrinking to the size of a doll and begging to be fucked.

“More.” Eddie moaned, trying to shift himself down further on Richie’s smallest finger. The sight was obscene in the most intoxicating way.

Richie pushed a little and watched as Eddie’s body took him to the second knuckle. Eddie’s lower stomach bulged, and it made Richie grind his hips down into his mattress with an intensity he’d never felt before. God, he felt nauseous and lightheaded and dizzy but so delighted, drunk off Eddie’s cries, spurred on by his encouragements.

Eddie’s hole slid up and down his finger with ease, fitting him like a ring. Richie didn’t have to do much moving, much like with his tongue earlier, Eddie was happy to take control and fuck himself down on to Richie’s hand. Richie was thankful, honestly, because with his current level of arousal, he wasn’t sure if he could focus on much more than rutting into his bed.

“So good- fuck- so small, Eds-” Richie’s tongue was heavy in his mouth, his words slurring out between his lips without permission.

“See? Doesn’t this feel good, Richie? Letting go, giving in to the darkness.” Eddie’s voice didn’t seem to match his body, floating by almost as if whispered by the wind. It made the hair on Richie’s body stand on end, but he was too far gone to care.

Eddie’s small frame was clenching around Richie’s pinky, giving warning to his oncoming climax.

“Rich- Richie- fuck, Rich!” And with a cry that rang almost eerie, Eddie was convulsing in Richie’s palm. His toes, no larger than jellybeans, curling in on themselves, as his torso buckled over and he clung around the base of Richie’s pinky finger to steady himself.

He composed himself shockingly quickly, sitting back up, still impaled on Richie’s finger, as if he hadn’t just had the life fucked out of him. His eyes locked with Richie’s, and with urgency, he asked Richie something that would forever be seared into his mind.

“Cum on me.”

Richie’s hips stuttered from where they’d been rhythmically humping himself closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck…” Was all Richie could say before he was scrambling up on his knees, bringing the palm of his hand that held Eddie just under the head of his cock, and began pumping himself with the other.

It didn’t take long, maybe all of five seconds for Richie to be pouring into his own hand, watching as Eddie’s body was completely coated in the white, sticky mess. Something yelled in the back of his mind, reminding him ‘Eddie would hate this! Eddie would think this was unclean!’ but he ignored it in favor of watching the fantasy play out right before his eyes. It was too tantalizing not to.

Once all the shocks had wracked his tall frame, and he’d gotten as much out of his spent cock as he possibly could, Richie collapsed onto his back. He held his hand, and subsequently his cum covered Eddie, above the mattress, avoiding more of a mess than necessary. He let his eyes drift shut for a moment, his head spinning with thoughts of what just happened, and what comes next.

 Richie reopened his eyes a moment later, clarity starting to come back to him as if he’d just woken up from a dream. He sat up, prepared to discuss the inevitable, when he found his hand empty, bar for his own cum. Feverishly, Richie’s eyes darted around his bed, his desk, his bookcase, even peered at the window, but there was absolutely no sign of Eddie anywhere.

“… Eddie?” Richie whispered into the empty room, his heart clenching when there was no reply.

Had… he imagined all of that? No, there was no way, it had been too real.

His phone ringing from across the room caused him to jump out of his skin, darting over to it before the rest of him could even respond. He had the receiver pulled to his ear so fast his cock was still hanging out of his pants. He tucked it away shyly and grabbed a tissue to clean up his hand while greeting whoever was on the other line.

“Now, didn’t IT feel nice?” A voice sang from the other end of the line, a voice not unfamiliar, but not easily placeable. It was a little rough, and high pitched like an adult trying to mimic a child. The voice had odd inflections, kind of drawn out but not in a dull or drowsy way.

“W-what?” Richie found himself stuttering out of fear, then immediately chastising himself for becoming big Bill over a measly phone call. He cleared his throat and retried, this time making sure to puff out his chest in a faux display of confidence. “What?”

“I said, didn’t it feel nice?”

Richie froze. A new voice, one he knew like the back of his hand.

“Did… what… feel nice…” Richie asked cautiously.

“Wow, okay, your diet of coke and licorice really has made you brain dead. I said, didn’t it feel nice to have real energy, instead of the sugar high you’re always running on?  I can try and get my mom to pack me extra salad tomorrow too, but only if you promise not to spit the pieces of carrot back into my container again.”

Richie vividly remembered what Eddie was referring to. Earlier at lunch, they’d shared his salad since his mom had packed him too much, and Richie, as per usual, had packed 5 dollars in a paper bag along with a can of soda. What he couldn’t remember, however, was how he’d gotten on the phone with Eddie in the first place. Had he been here long? His head felt foggy, his thoughts turning to molasses when he tried to wade through them.

“Eds, did you call me just to talk lettuce?” Richie pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning his elbows against his desk and hunching forward.

“Uh, you called me… Rich, what’s going on?”

Panic rose up like bile in Richie’s throat, and it’s the panic that caused him to ask what came next.

“Were you in my room earlier?”

The silence was tense as he waited for an answer.

“What are you talking about?” Eddie asked slowly, the humor in his voice verging on anxious, like he felt he was being left out of a joke.

Richie sighed, slumping lower in his chair and letting his hand fall from his face.

“Nothing, never mind.”

“Okay, weirdo. Anyway, Bill wants to meet up at the Quarry tomorrow at noon. He said to bring your swimming trunks and any snacks you can smuggle out of your kitchen without your mom noticing. I think Beverly is bringing chips, and Ben mentioned something about chocolate Ding Dongs-”

“Do you wanna go to the movies instead?” Richie asked, bravery manifesting from sheer lack of caring. In the last hour, his emotions and cognition had been pulled apart in so many directions and squished back together like silly putty; he just couldn’t find it in him to care anymore. What was real, what wasn’t, it didn’t matter. He wanted to take Eddie to the movies, so he was going to ask. Simple as that.

“Uhhh, sure, but we’ll have to call everyone tonight and try and get them to change their minds.” Eddie answered, not fully sold on the idea but always one to hop on alongside Richie regardless.

“No, Eds, I mean just us.”

“But Bill-”

“Screw Bill. Can I take you to the movies or not?”

The rephrasing was bold, removing any doubt in Eddie’s mind of what Richie’s intentions were. It took a while for Eddie to answer, almost too long, long enough that Richie was about to begin back tracking when a small squeak interrupted him.

“Yeah.”

Richie’s heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t expecting this, or, well he hadn’t been expecting anything really. His courage had been fleeting and now he was quickly deflating under the pressure of following up.

“Y-yeah?” Richie confirmed, chewing on his bottom lip anxiously.

“You gonna pick me up on your bike? Let me ride on your handlebars?” Eddie teased, managing to diffuse some of the tension they both felt from this unspoken agreement to tip toe into dangerous waters together.

“That’s not the only thing I’ll let you ride.” Richie quipped.

“Goodbye, Richie.” Eddie snapped with no real bite. Richie could picture the roll of his eyes that would mask the small smirk hiding behind those features, an action he loved.

“Bye, Eds.” Richie answered into the receiver, though the line had gone dead.

Distantly, Richie thought he could hear laughter, unhinged and maniacal, but as quick as it came it disappeared, replaced once again with the dial tone.

[shy-marker-pliers]

Happy Birthday

It was The Hosts birthday.

Or rather, it was The Author’s birthday. And, understandably, it was Hosts least favorite day of the year.

His birthday only reminded him of the atrocities The Author committed, and he found his eyesockets tingling with a phantom pain the entire day.

Every year on his birthday, he sealed himself in his library, leaving himself alone with the memories of his past. he refused to come out for anything or anyone, not even to eat.

That is, until his first birthday with Eric. It started off as it usually did, with him laying in bed for about two hours after he woke up, staring off into space. then he stood and paced. he paced until his legs hurt, but he kept moving. his hands shook.

Meanwhile, Eric was going about his day as normal. He hummed an upbeat tune to himself as he made some strawberry pancakes. when they had been set on a plate, he walked up to the nearest ego, who turned out to be silver.

“H-Hey Silv? Have you seen Host at all today? I m-made him some breakfast.” he said, proudly holding up the plate of pancakes. However, upon seeing the grimace on silvers face, he frowned.

“What?”

“You...you really didn’t know?”

“K-Know what?”

“It’s his birthday. Well, The Author’s birthday at least. He never comes outside on his birthday.”

“Oh...Have you tried t-to get him to come out?”

“We did. Once. He started screaming bloody murder at us so we haven’t tried since then.”

“W-When was this?”

“Six years ago...”

“What?! Y-You haven’t even tried to get him out since t-then?”

“Not really, no...”

Eric frowned, looking at the pancakes he was still holding. Then he handed them to Silver.

“Here. Y-You can have these. I have w-work to do.”

...–––...

Eric put his hands on his hips as he impatiently waited for the oven timer to go off. He tapped his foot, staring at the orange glow from the oven until finally, it beeped. He put on his oven mitts in record time and took the small pan out of the oven. On it were three perfect cupcakes. Eric let them cool before going to the fridge to retrieve the frosting he had made, topping the cupcakes with a swirl. He put sprinkles on top and then gently set them on a plate, smiling at his handiwork.

Next was the matter of getting to Teh Hosts library. He carefully went down the spiral staircase, balancing the cupcakes as he went. When he finally reached the large oak doors, he sighed in relief before knocking gently on the door.

“Who’s there?” came a muffled voice from the inside.

“H-Hosty? It’s me...”

Host froze in his tracks hearing Eric’s voice. He slowly turned his head towards the door.

He had no idea what to do. He preferred to be alone on this day, sure, but he loved Eric. And he hadn’t been with anyone on his birthday since...well, ever. After almost a full minute of silence, he answered.

“Come in.”

Eric tentatively stepped into the library, holding the plate behind his back. He offered Host a sad smile. “I heard it’s your birthday.”

“...Yes, it is.”

“I-I also heard you don’t like your birthday very much.”

“That is an understatement, but yes.”

Eric took a few more steps forward. “W-Well, I thought t-that i’d try to make it a little nicer.”

With that, he took the plate out from behind his back and handed it to Host with a shy smile.

“The cake is vanilla a-and the frosting is cinnamon. I hope you like them...”

Host picked up a cupcake. They did smell like cinnamon, and it was heavenly. And, upon using his narrations to inspect the cupcakes more closely, he noticed that there were heart shaped sprinkles on top.

The Host smiled just the tiniest bit. Then he set the plate down to scoop Eric up and bring him into a bear hug.

He squeaked in surprise as he was lifted into the air, but soon smiled and relaxed into Hosts hold.

“The Host thanks Eric for coming to be with him today. He thinks that this birthday has turned out to be the first happy one.”

“A-Aw...i’m glad. But can you put me down please? I have one more thing for you.”

When Eric’s feet touched the ground, he reached into his pocket.

“D-Don’t use your narrations, ok? I want it t-to be a surprise...”

Host chuckled, but remained silent. Then he heard a small scraping noise and something was being clipped around his neck.

“O-Okay, you can look now!”

“The Host reaches a hand up to his neck, feeling a silver chain and a small charm. It’s an ornate golden key, adorned with deep blue gemstones.” he paused his narrations to lean down and kiss Eric’s lips, beaming down at him when he drew back.

“oh, darling, it’s absolutely beautiful! The Host loves it.”

“I-I’m glad you do, c-c-cause that’s not all.”

Flushing bright red, Eric reached into his shirt to pull out a necklace of his own. He unclipped it and held it in one hand. It was a heart, and on it, there was a keyhole.

Eric reached for Hosts necklace and used it to open his own. it was a locket, and on the inside of it in deep red, a cursive message said, “You have the key to my heart.”

“I-I know it’s kinda cheesy, but...I f-found them in a jewelry website a while back a-and...well, i thought they were pretty.”

Eric’s hands shook as he took his necklace back and put it on. Host just stared at him silently. Then tears started to soak his bandages and he let out a happy sob, bringing Eric into her another hug.

“The Host loves Eric so, so much...” He peppered little kisses all over his face, all while still holding him.

“I-I love you too, honey. Happy birthday.”

“Yes, it is.”

[doof-doofblog]

"I Want To Cash In!"

Tuesday 15th September 2020

Good evening folks! The majority of you will know I've already posted once today, this is going to be my second post of the day following up tonight's episode, so I'm completely up to date with you all! The previous episode (last night's) was a bit of devastating blow for Chantelle, Gray is just finding ways from stopping her leaving, it seems each time she's attempted to leave he's managed to take it one step further and stop her in her path.  

Let's jump right into it, oh my gosh how heartbreaking is the opening scene!!! Chantelle has gone off on a holiday with her family but she has devastatingly had to leave her children behind, she's in the seaside cafe all on her own, staring out the window. All you can hear is the sound of rain against the glass window and the sound of seagulls. She looks like she's lost everything in the world. At the holiday apartment, the rest of the Taylor family are playing games and having fun, Mitch is videoing them to remember the memories, but he is just as miserable, he claims it's the same and as much fun without Chantelle. He can't seem to understand what's bothering his daughter, he decides to leave the fun and goes off to find her.

Back on the Square, Ian is finding every opportunity he can to dodge Max! Pretending to be on the phone and then having to hide behind the door of his house! Sorry, but it's pathetic! Why doesn't Ian just be the bigger man and come clean and just apologise and be truthful about what he's done! He's digging a deeper and deeper hole for himself! Meanwhile, Ruby has gone to visit Martin in the hospital, fantastic news is that he's awake and he's up and out of bed! The main thing he wants to know is if the Police know who it was who attacked him, fortunately for Vinny, Martin didn't see anything! Ruby is completely over the moon to see Martin looking well, so much so that she drops the L-Bomb on him!! But before he gets a chance to reply, he is wheeled off in the other direction. Did Ruby mean to say the L word? Or has she come to realise her true feelings for him during recent events. Another big question is, does Martin feel the same way about her?!

Hmmm, so is Ian actually struggling financially? It's probably understandably that his businesses aren't coping at the moment, possibly due to the current pandemic? But also the fact that he now owes Max some money, will this meeting be the only opportunity he has of getting things under control?

In time, Mitch eventually finds Chantelle. He finds in her the seaside cafe and he comes in tow with a huge elephant teddy for her. It's clear she's been crying, he gently places it on the table in front of her and she scoops it up and holds it as if picking wanting to hold her children ever so tightly. Mitch pulls up a chair and joins his daughter, she is looking so heartbroken and lost. Mitch begins to apologise for not being there for her as much as he should've been, but little does he know that's not the thought that's on his daughter's mind right now. He promises that he'll always be there for her from now on, Chantelle stares at him with tears filling her eyes, he softly asks her the most important question "What's wrong?" ... she sighs and tells him that she's missing her children. Now, of course she is missing her children but she hasn't given her Dad the main reason as to why, she hasn't given him the full story. She claims she just wanted them all to be together, Mitch then takes it upon himself to go back to Walford to collect her kids! Much to Chantelle's shock, but deep down as he goes and promises he won't leave without them, part of me believes she actually has hope that her Dad will return with his Grandchildren. Once again, Chantelle's hopes are lifted at another chance of getting away from Gray, but this is EastEnders - we know what's going to happen, right?!

Meanwhile, in the Vic, Ian is having a meeting with Douglas on his potential chance of becoming a part on the Planning Committee. Sharon is chatting away with Tina about Frankie when Ian enter's the pub. I feel sorry for Sharon really, she is doing everything she can to make it up to Ian. Giving him compliments and speaking highly of him in front of the fellow businessman. Ian is just shutting her down over and over again, not even saying that they're even friends anymore. In all seriousness, Sharon has done nothing wrong! She can't force feelings that she doesn't feel. If there's anyone Ian should be angry with, it's Dotty, for serving him stories and making him believe something that wasn't true. Sharon is literally just wanting her old friend back, but Ian seems to be having none of it! In the cafe, Max is on his phone to someone, does he owe someone money? He make the odd one-liner joke about having to hold Ian upside down and turn his pockets inside out to make sure he gets his money back. I'm sure the longer Ian tries to dodge the bullet and hide from Max, the more suspicious and angry he's going to get! Only, Kathy seems to overhear Max's phone conversation, and says states that he shouldn't be pestering Ian for his money, but Max makes the perfect point and claims that they were businesses partners. Kathy suddenly let's slip "He doesn't need this right now!" ... Bang! Max is suspicious, what did she mean by that?! He moves in closer to her "What has he done with my money, Kathy?!" He knows something isn't right! Kathy stands her ground and doesn't give anything away, she just tells him he'll have to wait, just a little bit longer!

At the Mitchell household, it looks as if Ben has now dragged in Jay to help with getting hold of Danny. I'm quite surprised as Jay has never been one for trouble. He's always stayed clear of Ben and his dodgy deals and gangsters. Jay makes it perfectly clear to Ben that he's not happy about it, he even asks if Phil is aware of Ben's plan. Suddenly, Callum joins them in the room, he can sense that he's walked in on a conversation between them. He asks if everything is okay and Ben assures him that everything is and that Jay is helping him with something. As Jay leaves the room, Callum then also asks Ben if he and Phil are okay with starting a war against Danny? It's a difficult situation for them all to be in, no one wants to get anyone else hurt, but I think that they know that Ben needs to go through with this to clear his name, he really does not want to be going back to prison!

Back at the holiday venue, Chantelle is packing her children's toys in the suitcase. She finds the lucky poke chip that Kheerat gave her and she sighs deeply. Suddenly a knock is heard on her bedroom door and her mother, Karen, appears. Karen sees that Chantelle is already packed and ready to leave. She's shocked to see her daughter packed already before her children have even arrived. Chantelle asks desperately to her Mum whether Mitch has been in touch. Karen confirms to her that Mitch and Chantelle's children are on their way! Chantelle's face is in utter shock! Gray has let them go? Could it be possible that Mitch has persuaded him to let them come? Could this be the last chance she gets of making her escape with the children? There's the tiniest smiles that grows on her face as Karen tells them that they'll be able to enjoy their holiday as family and make some wonderful memories. Chantelle must feel so relieved, she decides to go and buy her children a treat for when they arrive!

On the Square, Ruby is back and giving Kush an update about Martin, everyone seems very relieved to hear that Martin is doing okay. Kat shouts from across the Square that she's managed to pay Kush's rent for his stall! Kush is over the moon and he declares his love for her, as he does so, Ruby looks slightly disappointed - Why didn't Martin say the L word back to her? Does she feel silly for telling him that she loves him? Suddenly Suki approaches her, asking her how Martin is, at first it all seems rather polite but then Suki drops the bomb to Ruby that she knows about the insurance fraud. Ruby is ready to state that it was her son who attacked Martin in the first place, of course Martin is unaware of what actually happened, and Ruby wants to keep it that way. She informs Suki that Vinny is safe, she won't be going to the police and she wont be claiming on the insurance. But what I want to know is, is this going to turn around and hit Ruby where it hurts? Is Martin going to become aware of her and Vinny's plan? Will he blame her for being attacked?!

In the restaurant, Ian is continuing his meeting with Douglas, he's trying to prove a point that he's able to cope in awkward situations. Unfortunately the main thing on the other fella's mind is Sharon. Ian then literally tells him about all her failed relationships, in an attempt to warn him off! Mentioning that she had an affair with her husband's brother, to then Dennis being murdered and then finally - i'm assuming he means, Phil - a gangster?! Or was that somebody else that i'm unaware of?! Anyway, Max finally catches up with Ian, he wants his money and he wants it now! He refuses to leave the building until Ian tells him exactly what's going on! He makes himself known by dragging out a chair and sitting with his arms folded, staring at Ian! I think he knows he can't escape Max now, it's time to tell him the truth!

Oh great! Just what Walford needs, Danny Hardcastle then decides to pull up in the Square. Is he looking for someone? Does he know that the police after him? What an Earth would bring him back to the Square? As he locks his car walks away into the distance, the camera angle moves as if someone is watching him from behind the wall. At first, I thought it was going to be Ben, only Jay appears and shows that he has a screwdriver in his inside coat pocket. Is he going to scratch his car? Or perhaps stab his tyres? I feel sad that Ben has dragged Jay into this, of course Jay would do anything to help his brother out, but surely not in this way?! Ahhh so Danny has come to meet with Ben? Or did he actually believe it was Phil he coming to see?! Danny makes a snide comment saying with Phil not being there, is that his way of apologising?! These two haven't seen each other since that job in Stratford, i'm quite surprised neither of them are putting their fists up. Ben claims that he and his Dad don't owe Danny anything! Ahhh I see, so while Ben and Danny have their little catch up - Jay is planting the stolen money in Danny's car. Danny informs Ben that the money they nicked is traceable, so the police will be all over it! Jay can be seen then trying to close the car boot frantically! At this moment when Danny is walking back to his car, his keys jingling in his hand, I am so worried for Jay as Danny gets closer and closer, Jay is pushing the boot repeatedly trying to get it shut! Luckily he manages to get it shut completely just a few seconds before Danny gets to his car. He quickly walks away and calls the police! Have they really gotten away with setting him up?! My heart was in my mouth when Jay was doing that! I hope to God nothing bad happens to Jay after this!

Back at the restaurant, Max is waiting for Ian to get his money. He appears to be on the phone to a lawyer, of course a fake lawyer! He comes up with a story about his lawyer chasing some thieves and apparently he was attacked on the head. Not realising, as Max points out - that its exactly the same of what happened to Martin! Ian can't play any more games, he knows he's been sussed out. The lies he's building is just getting worse and worse, Max just wants to the truth, he slams the kitchen units, he's had enough of Ian's lies! Ian then states that his money in a high-interest account and he can't get to it quickly because of penalties. Max can't believe what he's hearing, he's devastated that his business partner could do this to him! He gives Ian one last warning, he wants his money by the following week, otherwise Ian is going to be the one needing major surgery! Ian has once again lied his way out of another situation to by him some time to get some money for Max, but in all seriousness - how is he going to get it?!

The Taylor family are still on their holiday, Keegan announces that the children have finally arrived! But they didn't come by train, Mitch appears with luggage and asks where Chantelle, Bernadette informs him that she had gone to buy some doughnuts for the kids. A voice from the hall then echo's the word "Doughnuts!" - Gray has only gone and wormed his way in! Even though the family are all delighted to see him, we know Chantelle is going to be scared and worried and stuck yet again. Karen makes a comment "Chantelle is going to be so happy to see you!", he has a really smug grin on his face as he replies to her that he didn't want to miss out on the family fun! Ooooo Gray is just getting darker and darker, his anger at Chantelle is getting worse and worse and her fear of him is just growing and growing. It's still SO devastating that the Taylor family have no idea what's been going on behind closed doors, which I think is going to make Chantelle's death far more devastating and heart-wrenching to watch.

After his encounter with Max, Ian makes his way back to the Vic. He pulls Sharon to one side, she's asks him how the meeting went, trying to be the best supportive friend she can be. But it looks as if Ian is tired of feeling let down, because his heart has been broken, yet again, he's taking it out on his friend! He claims to her that if it wasn't for him she wouldn't have the pub! He decides to make it perfectly clear to her that the pub is his business alone, she is just his employee. Sharon knows that he is saying this out of spite, just because she doesn't feel the same way about him. He's angry, he's upset, he's embarrassed so he wants to have the upper hand! He's wanting to feel powerful! He warns her that he going to be setting her some targets, and if she doesn't meet them he will find someone else to run the pub! Sharon can barely believe her ears, she has always told Ian how grateful she has been to him over the past few months, he took her in when she had nowhere to go, he comforted her when Dennis died, of course we know it was out of guilt, but now saying he could potentially make her homeless is such a horrible curve-ball! Will she ever be able to find a way to make it up to him? Will Ian finally come to his senses and realise he's in the wrong?!

The last scene of tonight's episode, Chantelle is seen in the seaside cafe buying her children their treats. Its the first time we've seen her happy in a long time. She makes a phone call, it's Kheerat she calls, she's sounding so relieved and so happy. Its the first time we've seen her smile in a long time! She believes her children are on the way to her and she can finally find some happiness with Kheerat, she assures him that everything is fine and he has no reason to worry. She then says that she's ready, she's ready to cash in! Little does she know that Gray has been stood behind her, listening to her conversation. How is he going to know what "Cash in" means? This is going to be the thing that rages him more than anything! He believes his wife is having an affair, even though we know nothing has happened between Chantelle and Kheerat yet, it's going to be the first thing that jumps into his head! Is this what makes Gray lose his temper with Chantelle so much that it comes to the point he commits murder?!

As the episode gets closer of Chantelle's death, the more worried and scared I am of how it's going to happen. I truly believe it's going to be a devastating, harrowing episode. I do believe some viewers will find it incredibly hard to watch, the past few episodes I've been getting very nervous for Chantelle as I know what's coming, but seeing it all unfold - all the events leading up to her death and hearing the news of the aftermath of her death. It's going to be very hard viewing! I know I've said it once, but I can't praise Jessica Plummer and Toby-Alexander Smith high enough! Their performances have been phenomenal this week!

I hope you're all preparing yourself for what the next few episodes hold. It's going to be a tough few days that's for sure! I hope you've all enjoyed reading, thank you all for taking your time to read through my blog. It really does mean the world! Enjoy the rest of your week and i'll be back very soon! Love you all xXx

[xsixxx]

Bad Influence, Chapter Three

Authors note: I have had the best time getting dark & weird & really over the top with Nikki towards the end of this chapter, I really hope you all enjoy it!

ps if you think you know what happens after this, you definitely don’t 😏

Warnings: Language, drug use, Nikki being a dick as per, some serious sexual tension

Tags: @triplehaitches @freddiessmallnipples @fire-and-blood-got @scarecrowmax @lovesick-heart0 @littlesunnymoon @80sheart-strings @cranberribread @inthebackofmycarlaytheirbodies @deaconsroger

Summer ‘82

“Well, well, if it isn’t Elizabeth fucking Reynolds, the one that got away.” Laughed the beautiful blonde, as he waltzed up to the bar & leaned over to smack my ass, smiling from ear to ear.

“Oh my god, is that Vince fucking Neil, the worst kiss I ever had?” I smirked, “How the hell have you been rockstar?” I asked, genuinely happy to see him, grabbing him his usual drink.

“I’ve been touring Canada, singing, partying & fucking every single night, how the fuck do you think I’ve been?” Vince laughed, “Although, it’s nice to come home to your fine self.” He added, winking & taking the beer I handed to him. “We weren’t too sure if you’d still be working here.”

“Yep, still got rent to pay, Vinny! I think I’ll be working behind this bar for the rest of my days at this rate. I miss the old days of living with Daddy, when everything was paid for & taken care of,” I sighed jokingly.

“Well I’ll tell you what, you come live with me & I’ll be your new Daddy & I’ll take care of you.” He drawled, stroking the side of my face. I scoffed, moving away from his touch.

“Excuse me, you blonde haired bitch, I know you’re not trying to convince my roommate to move out to go live in that disgusting ‘Mötley House’ you degenerates live in, right?” Came the sharp, witty voice of my best friend, Sophia.

“You can join too babe, you know Tommy would love to have you there.” Vince said laughing, eyeing her up & down.

“Where is my drummer boy anyway?” Quizzed Sophia, looking towards the door of the famous Whisky A-Go-Go, waiting for him to burst in with his usual energy.

“Oh they’re on there way, Nikki was arguing with the bouncer outside, something to do with us not being on the list. I slipped in when they weren’t looking because I couldn’t wait to see your beautiful face.” He said, flashing that killer smile at me.

“Lets hope they don’t fucking let him in.” I said, ignoring Vinces cheesy compliment. I was used to them by now. A few months after the Nikki-Maddie incident, I moved out to finish my final year of school as a fully fledged, independent adult. I met Sophia through an ad she put out, looking for a roommate & we hit it off immediately. We lived just off the Sunset Strip & Soph got me a job working with her at the Whisky. It still wasn’t my scene but money is money &, turns out, being an independent adult ain’t cheap. Of course, Mötley Crüe were regulars, playing shows & partying there all the time &, as much as the sensible part of me hated to admit it, I’d grown to kinda like them. I’d become a chase for Vince, who was convinced he could charm me into bed like he does every other girl, although he definitely wasn’t getting anywhere. Meanwhile, Sophia & Tommy had a no-strings-attached thing going on, although Sophia had that going on with a lot of band members that played at the Whisky. She definitely had a type.

Hanging out with Mötley Crüe was fun, but I still didn’t party like they did. And I definitely still hated Nikki fucking Sixx.

“Sophia, Beth! How’re my favourite barmaids?” Tommy yelled, bounding up to us like a gangly, excited puppy who’d just seen that their owner’s home. “I’m so glad you’re both here, Nikki was convinced you wouldn’t still be working here by the time we came back off tour!”

Speaking of the Devil, he was purposely stood at the other end of the bar, being served by someone else as to not have to interact with me. Our hatred was very much mutual, only speaking to each other when we had to &, more often than not, it ended up in an arguement. He looked up when Tommy mentioned his name, shooting him a look before making eye contact with me. He tipped his bottle of Jack at me, before flashing that arrogant smirk he knew I despised.

“T-Bone, it’s good to see you man! You too Mick,” I smiled warmly at the eldest Mötley member, who nodded at me as he swigged from that hip flask he always had on him. “How was the tour guys?”

“Fucking INSANE” yelled Tommy, “we kicked Canada’s ass!”

“So when do you girls finish?” Vince asked, eyeing us both up & biting his lip slightly. Me & Sophia looked at each other & laughed.

“In about 10 minutes.” Sophia answered. “So I know you’ve been on tour & all of those drugs have probably scrambled your brain, but you know Beth’s still won’t sleep with you, right Vince? She’s practically a nun at this point!”

“I am not!” I yelled, laughing, swinging the dirty dishcloth I had in Sophias direction as she tried to dodge it.

“Well how about a little holy water to loosen you up doll face,” winked Vince as her lent over the bar & swiped a bottle of vodka & some shot glasses, pouring out 4 & gesturing for me, Soph & Tommy to take one each. I shook my head as the other 3 knocked them back. “Guys, you know I don’t drink like you do!”

Nikki was walking past & stopped when he heard me say that. “Same old stuck up Lizzy, still too fucking good to drink with us.” He looked at me, that smirk playing on the corner of his lips. I knew he was trying to provoke me, but it worked. I picked up the shot of vodka &, without breaking eye contact with him, downed it in one.

“Yes Beth, that’s my girl!” Yelled Vince as Tommy stole the bottle from his hands & poured out 4 more.

“Now let’s see you do that twice in a row, Reynolds!” Yelled Tommy. I picked up the shot glass, tipped it to Nikki who was staring at me from under his lashes, the irritation flashing in his green eyes & knocked it back. “What’s wrong Sixx, you too good to drink with us now?” I asked, my voice fake & patronising as I offered him a shot.

“Fucking groupie.” He scorned as he stormed off to a booth. I laughed out loud at his tantrum & turned my attention back to the 3 boys & Sophia.

“So Beth, now that your shifts finished & you’re a couple of shots in, let’s see how fun you’re feeling,” teased Tommy, “I dare you to do a body shot off of Vince.”

I rolled my eyes, ready to decline, before I caught sight of Nikki, still glaring at me from his booth.

“Ok Tommy, you’ve got a deal. But only if you do one off of Sophia,” I bargained.

“Babe, I’d have done that for fucking free!” He laughed, jumping over the bar to Sophia. “Doll, lie your ass down on that bar,” shouted Tommy, as Sophia, up for anything as per usual, obliged & got on the bar. Tommy balanced a shot glass full of tequila on Sophia’s chest, poured out a line of salt across her breast & placed a slice of lime in between her teeth. Then he winked at her before slowly licking the salt off her body, expertly downing the shot & sucking the lime from her mouth. Tommy stood back up, looking pleased with himself, a huge beaming smile on his face. “Your turn Beth!”

“Ok Vinny, let’s get this over with,” I laughed. He jumped up on the bar, pouring the shot of tequila himself, lying down & placing it just above the waist band. I glared at him. “You’ve got to be kidding, come on man!” I whined.

“Nope, that’s the rules Beth, sorry!” said Tommy, pouring out the salt parallel to the line of hair leading down from Vinces navel to beneath those too-tight leather trousers that left nothing to the imagination. “& for the final touch..” Tommy howled with laughter as he placed the slice of lime on the Vinces clearly outlined member. Sophia giggled hysterically as Vince tried to stifle his laughter as to not spill to shot glass resting on his stomach.

“Drink up Beth!” Giggled Tommy.

“Guys, come on!” I complained, half grumbling, half laughing. A couple of shots of vodka to someone that doesn’t drink can have quite the effect & I could already feel my usually prominent sensibilities slipping as I gave into the idea of having fun. I looked at the grinning faces of Vince, Tommy, Soph & even Mick. Fuck it, I thought. Just before I bent my head down to Vinces crotch, I made eye contact with Nikki, who’s stare was fixed on me. I winked at him & smirked before licking the salt from off of Vinces toned body, grabbing the shot glass & downing the tequila, & placing my lips around the lime, applying the tiniest bit of purposeful pressure as I sucked on it, making eye contact with Vince as I did.

I let go of the lime, stood up & laughed, letting myself actually enjoy the situation before I realised my tongue felt sort of numb. I moved it around my teeth to see if I could regain any sensation. I frowned &, as I did so, Tommy & Vince burst into a fit of giggles.

“What’s so funny, assholes?” I asked, slurring my words slightly due to the lack of feeling in my mouth

“How’re you feeling Beth?” Asked Vince, sitting up & snorting with laughter.

“I feel pretty good to be honest, I think I’m starting to feel those shots, except my mouth feels kinda weird..”

“I don’t think it’s the shots you’re feeling babe”, giggled Tommy, covering his mouth to try & muffle himself.

“What are you on about?” I demanded. Why couldn’t I feel my tongue?! The feeling was spreading the the back of my throat & I started to panick that I was perhaps allergic to something I’d just ingested. And then it hit me.

“You fucking idiots! Have I just licked coke off of Vinces fucking stomach?!” I yelled.

Vince & Tommy collapsed onto each other in fits of giggles as I looked horrified between Sophia, who looked mildly concerned, but mostly amused, & Mick, who was shaking his head at the boys before looking up at my worried face.

“You’re gonna be fine Beth, you’ve only had one line & you haven’t snorted it. You’ll feel it a bit but nothing intense.” He promised, patting my hand & giving me a reassuring look.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, as my head started to feel a little strange. Not bad, but different. I was focused & alert, like I’d drank a good, strong coffee, but at the same time, I suddenly felt at ease & like a blanket of calm had been draped over me. I wanted to be mad & scream at Tommy & Vince for being so damn irresponsible, but the blanket wouldn’t let me. I didn’t want to do cocaine, but I wasn’t hating it either.

“You pair of mother fuckers!” I yelled, punching them both in the arm.

“But don’t you feel good though?” Winked Vince, seeing that I’d visibly relaxed into the mild high.

“Well, it’s not as bad as I thought..” I admitted, “But I mean it, don’t ever fucking do that to me again.” I said seriously, giving them both a stern look. They each appeared a little sheepish.

“I’m sorry Beth, we didn’t think it was a big deal, honestly!” Tommy offered, sounding genuinely sincere.

“Sorry doll, just thought you could do with having some fun & letting loose..” Vince mumbled. I shook my head at both of them, to wrapped up in this strange new feeling to commit to my anger.

I was scanning around the room when I happened to look over at Nikki, who was obviously flirting with a pretty brunette in a black pvc dress. He was stroking along her collarbone with his index finger, whilst his lips brushed against her ear as he whispered to her. I suddenly had this burst of confidence surge through me & I marched over to them.

“Sweetie, from one girl to another, he’s going to fuck you & break your heart. Yeah the sweet nothings he’s whispering in your ear sound tempting now, but once he’s had his fill.. or you’ve had his fill, I guess..” I babbled, the coke doing me no favours. “He’s going to throw you out & move on to the next. Don’t be one of those girls. You can do better than him anyway, you’re way hotter than he is.” I shrugged, flashing her a smile. She looked taken aback & glanced up at Nikki for reassurance but his anger was evident & she quickly shuffled away from him.

I sat down in the booth, opposite him, folded my hands across my chest & sat back, holding his glare. “She seemed nice,” I smiled.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” He fumed.

“What? I’m just trying to save yet another girl from your twisted little games so they don’t get played like my sister. I like to think of myself as the angel that stops people from getting tempted by the devil.” I mused.

“You think I’m the devil?” Nikki asked, amusement breaking down the anger in those green eyes as that infamous smirk tugged on his lips.

“Basically, yes.” I said, my confidence wavering slightly under the intensity of his stare.

He let the smirk take over his face as he relaxed back into the seat & causally rested his arm along the backboard of the booth. “So tell me, Lizzy, why am I the devil?”

“For the hundredth time, my name is Beth. It’s not Lizzy. And you really don’t know why?!” He shrugged, looking intrigued & uniterested all at the same time. “Because you manipulate people, Sixx! You tempt girls in with that smirk & arrogance & they fall for it, meanwhile having no idea they’re dancing with the devil & you’re only going to leave them heartbroken. You have no regard or respect for anyone, you only love yourself.” I stated, feeling the weight of that stare, but not once breaking eye contact with him. The coke was making me brave & I couldn’t stop. “You have a dark heart, Nikki Sixx.”

His smirk was from ear to ear. “You’re fucking hot as hell when you talk to me like that.”

I faltered, his statement catching me off guard. I inwardly chastised myself for the spark of desire that his words momentarily ignited somewhere deep inside me. That was not me.

“You know, you’re one of the only girls that’s never tried hard to win my interest.”

“I’ve never tried to win your interest, Nikki. It’s called having dignity.” I scoffed, annoyed by the cocky look on his face.

“I know. It’s irritatingly sexy.”

“Well, that’s too bad. I didn’t trust or like you before you screwed over my sister & I like & trust you even less now. I know better than to fall for your tricks & lines. Remember, according to you, I’m the stuck up posh girl with the education & the clean lifestyle & you’re the dark & edgy rockstar with the sordid life & the makings of a drug habit. I’m the angel & your the devil.” I taunted, flashing a smirk of my own.

Nikki leaned across the table to me, his face so close I could feel his hot breath on my face, smell the whisky on his lips. His eyes pierced mine, looking at me with a mixture of disliking & desire. He smiled “But there’s a little bit of devil in your angel eyes, I can see it.” He whispered. A shiver ran down my spine. He noticed & he smirked wider, leaning in closer, so our lips brushed lightly. “And you inspire the Devil in me, Lizzy.”

My heart raced, my knees went weak & my skin crawled. I couldn’t tell in that moment if I craved him or was repulsed by him. Every inch of me screamed to push him away, to yell at him, to stop whatever was happening. But for that brief moment as his seductive words lingered in the space between our lips, that spark of desire I had felt had turned into a raging fire, engulfing my better judgement. All I wanted was to feel his lips on mine, to taste his arrogance & fall pray to his devilsh temptation.

“Ahem.”

Oh thank god.

The judgemental, fake cough from my best friend snapped me back into reality & relief washed over me as I immediately moved away from Nikki, embarrassed & frustrated with myself. Nikki casually leaned back, draping his arm around the back of the booth once again, looking conceitedly at Sophia, as she stood with her hands on her hips, looking at me with intense disapproval.

“Come on Beth, we’ve gotta go collect our wages.” She said cuttingly, throwing a snide look at Nikki before stalking off, back towards the bar.

I stood up, regaining composure, refusing to look back at Nikki. I could feel the smirk without even seeing it. I went to walk away without a word when he grabbed my hand & pulled me back, so I stumbled & fell on to his lap. He entangled his fingers into my hair & pulled me in so his lips were against my ear.

“There’s something dangerously attractive about dancing with the devil. It’s truly going to be heaven dragging you down to hell with me, Princess.”