#nai said it was good too!

[thelifeofniy]

i just rolled my first j!

back in 2014 when i first met mary jane, everybody was rolling up in swisher sweets. i was no different when it came to my blunt wrap choice...

[snackugaki]

a return to square 1

now that we’ve all been thoroughly blasted by the Rise movie I can take another stab at being more thoughtful in designing Venus for Rise. 

first, a refresher:

prologue | part 1 | part 2 | part 2 ½ | part 3 | part 4a | part 4b (ish?)

supplementary doodles: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

just gonna go full AU divergence, let whoever Big Mama’s Assistant be whoever (after thinking it over, it does sorta seem to more likely it’s Jennika), still gonna keep her start as an initiate, acolyte-adjacent, monk-ish kid running around in the Hidden City, ward to the crow yokai who adopted her as a foundling. 

We never saw who Draxum’s bodyguard was, they were alluded to during a crew discussion only (unless I missed a design reveal somewhere). in the same vein that me and a bunch of others I’ve seen that think Assistant is Jennika based... pretty much on those claws at the end of her hands, then the bodyguard could be mostly likely be Venus. i’m basing that theory on the very very VERY scant information we have from the show, 1) Draxum is adept at the mystic arts from magical item manipulation to summoning to.... I dunno, what do you call it when he set up the memory dive into Splinter’s mind? he can draw magic circles and operate them as seen when he had to move the boys to another memory.

2) dude wears Venus’ signature cyan post-team switch, can’t scream foreshadowing louder than that

3) Draxum straight up opens a portal to another plane to let the Hamatos go in and snatch up sword!Karai, original Venus taught the boys how to dreamwalk and guided them through a dream plane, ehh? ehhhhhh? *eyebrow waggle*

4) to me, the most record scratch, eyebrow quirking part: he uses armored bees just as Venus did in the original Next Mutation show. Venus’ armored bees and Draxum’s both were used to ensnare and trap opponents. though to concede, Venus’ exploded into a sticky goo, Draxum’s apparently auto-dug into the ground and sprouted as vines

the trip up for me in designing is what exactly “Draxum’s bodyguard” means. the first time I thought about it I had imagined as Draxum taking a younger Venus under his wing, teaching her (give or take realizing she was one of his anti-humanity soldier experiments), becoming his protege of sorts, prrrobably committed to his cause, becoming adept enough in both her mystic and physical prowess and takes it upon herself to protect him.. just real wuxia tropey about it.

but like... Draxum’s cool with hiring muscle, re: Garm and Freki so why wouldn’t he also just hire a bodyguard. it would make more sense this way but it depends on some characterization I’m shaky on for Draxum. he believed in his cause enough to go to Optimus, Arcee and Megatron (I forgot what those giant head characters were called only that their VAs voiced those transformers sry kids) for support. after that, I thought that maybe he’d be a little more discerning about who he recruits to bolster his plans which would be a little more lenient to my original idea. 

...

fuck it we ball au divergence, wuxia tropey protege > disciple > adamant protector pipeline it is.

[ambreiiigns]

jujutsu kaisen w brother we laughed our ASS off abt todo and yuji like in general they are SO fucking stupid.

[lildepressyy]

i feel stupid and weird and awkward and wrong nothing happened there were no bad consequences but i hate the way i acted that was too vulnerable it shouldn't be like that i shouldn't have said that acted like that

[murdockparker]

Mr. Bridgerton and the Baker

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: Covered in flour. It is how she usually spent her days, working hard at her family's bakery. She just hadn't expected to have met him in such a state.

Word Count: 11.8k

Warnings: pining, angst, fluff, a small assault (reader gets hit, not by Benedict!), mention of pregnancy (like, literally a line or two),

A/N: Did I write an entire fic barely based on that one scene in Camp Rock where Mitchie is covered in flour? Yes. Do I regret it? No.

With the melting of snow and the promise of new starts, the social season was nearly upon the ton, nearly upon all the potential suitors and debutantes—all waiting with bated breath to secure a match this year. Of course, those in waiting were of high status, usually tied to the aristocracy or drowning in wealth beyond compare.

The others? The ones not blessed with endless funds or pure luck of royal lineage had the privilege, nay, honor to serve those who would be so fortunate. For the many, it included servicing the estates—butlers, lady’s maids, governesses, home chefs and the like. For the patrons on Tilbury Street, it included the less sought after roles, polishers, cobblers, modistes and bakeries. One bakery in particular was the prime choice for the aristocracy, a diamond in the rough as some may say. 

—

“I just simply don’t understand why we cannot have our chefs prepare the pastries for the ball,” Eloise Bridgerton nearly groaned, her arm hooked onto her mother’s. They had been walking up and down Tilbury Street for the better part of twenty minutes, simply enjoying the fresh spring weather. “I’ve never known them to make horrid dishes.”

“It’s the first Bridgerton Ball of the season, Eloise,” the dowager viscountess murmured politely. “Along with it being the first Kate has had the pleasure of hosting, putting an order in here is a fresh foot forward, one that’ll impress our guests.”

Eloise barked back a laugh. “If it is so important, why is Kate not here to make the order herself?”

“That, dear sister, is an excellent point.” Following close behind the two Bridgerton ladies was a rather tall shadow, equally as dashing and nearly as clever—Benedict—the second eldest son of the Bridgerton brood. “Surely Anthony could spare his wife for one afternoon, I can’t imagine it being so difficult to pry them from their bedroom—”

“Benedict Bridgerton!” Violet snapped, turning hot on her heels to face her son. He could only laugh.

“Oh Mother, you must relax,” he said lovingly, patting both hands on her shoulders. “You know better than I that it could have been a far fouler thought—why, I can easily imagine three other ways I could have expressed my way of thinking.”

“Ah, ever the poet, Benedict,” Eloise smiled wryly, pushing her way to the front of their clump. No one had the heart to mention the glaring fact that it was likely she didn’t know the way in which they were headed. 

“This bakery,” Violet continued half-heartedly. “Is a prestigious supplier for the ton—you may recall their exquisite cake that we had ordered for Daphne’s wedding.”

Benedict hummed contently. “It was a good cake,” he practically nodded off at the thought. The decadent sponge nearly brought him to tears—of course, it could have very well been the relief from undue stress of Daphne’s season altogether, having nearly lost his older brother to an unnecessary duel.

“I think it was far too sweet,” Eloise said, scrunching her nose in distaste. “I had to drink nearly three cups of tea to clear out the sugar on my tongue.”

“Ah, but what’s life without a little bit of sweetness?” Benedict nearly sang.

“Perfectly fulfilling,” his younger sister quipped back.

The dowager viscountess could only sigh, her eyes reaching up to the clouds above. While she loved nothing more than being the mother of all eight of her perfect children, their endless bickering and bantering grew vexing. It merely took the Bridgerton siblings another minute of arguing before stopping in front of a quaint storefront—the sickeningly sweet aroma filling the street. “We’re here.”

“I could have told you as much,” Benedict mumbled, rubbing his temple lightly. “The scent is… overpowering.” If he were lucky, the headache that was quickly forming would dull fast.

“But Benedict,” Eloise turned hot on her heels. “What’s life without a bit of sweetness?”

Violet Bridgerton was quick to catch her second eldest's hand before it met the back of Eloise’s head. “If it’s too much for you, dear,” she released her grip. “Please feel free to wait for us out here. It should only take a moment.”

“Like a ‘moment’ at the modiste?” Benedict crossed his arms, his brow nearly touching his hairline. “If I recall, the last time I accompanied you to the dressmaker, I spent over an hour basking in the summer sun.”

“Nothing logical stopped you from coming in,” Eloise drawled. “Of course, if you wanted to managed to stay pleasant with the seamstress, one should have kept it in his trousers—”   

“We’ll only be a moment,” Violet hushed Eloise quickly, grasping the top of her arm firmly. “There seems to be little wait. We’ll be on our way shortly.”

He huffed towards the sun—while there had been little heat near the start of the English spring, the sun was warm against his skin. Benedict enjoyed being outdoors more often than not, it was usually the reason he accompanied his mother on their errands nearly every other day of the season. That, of course, and the fact it got his worrying mama off of his back to be wed. With Anthony finally securing a match, it was only fitting for Violet Bridgerton to be working her way down her list of endless children—having only two of eight married off. “It should only be a moment,” Benedict reassured himself, watching various other families and couples walk by. 

That is, until he heard a rather loud bang coming from the alley beside him. He should have known better—he was taught better—than to investigate outlandish sounds, especially in town, but Benedict Bridgerton was nothing if not curious. He peeked around the corner, holding his breath, preparing to be met with a wild animal of some kind. His view was shaky at best, hardly could see a thing around the bricks. If he wanted a better look, he’d have to take a few steps towards the unusual noise. 

A large white cloud had enveloped the small alley, it was difficult to even see a few meters ahead, let alone what could have caused the loud commotion. Benedict waved his hand through the mysterious fog, trying to clear some air. “Hello?” He heard a soft squeak. An animal, it had to have been, Benedict was sure of it now. “Is anyone there?” 

A cough rang through the alley, startling him more than rogue vermin could have. The cloud had begun to dissipate, the white settling on the stone street below. Flour, if he had to guess, given the location.

“I’m alright,” a voice murmured quietly, another soft cough following quickly after. The shape of a person came into view, the air finally clearing enough for him to make sense of the scene he came upon. It was one of a woman now covered head to toe in the white powder—she had no distinguishable features, the flour was caking every bit of her body and dress. Just striking eyes that made Benedict’s heart jump to his throat. “Just… made a mess.”

“So it seems,” Benedict hummed, stepping over a pile of powder to get closer. “Do you require any help?”

“No, no,” she laughed. “I wouldn’t want you to get dirty. I fear I’ve got quite enough of that for the both of us.”

“I don’t mind getting dirty,” Benedict said quickly, his tongue moving faster than his brain. “But… yes, I suppose it’d be for the best if I refrained from getting any flour on me. May I ask how…?”

“Clumsy,” she uttered simply, the shrug of her shoulders speaking nothing but truth. “I must have the slipperiest fingers in town—I wish I could say this was the first time…”

“Manage to cover yourself in flour often?” Benedict’s lips pulled into a jesting smirk.

“Nearly every other day,” the woman sighed. “We’ve grown accustomed to purchasing an extra sack or two just for situations like these."

“I hardly doubt you could be that clumsy,” Benedict laughed, leaning against the stone wall. “But, I am painting quite the image in my head.”

“Oh I do hope I’m decent in that image, Mr. Bridgerton,” she giggled, curtsying in a near-mocking manner.

“How do you know—”

“Everyone knows your family, Mr. Bridgerton, I’d be a fool to admit I don’t know who you are—though you and your brothers all blur together, so I am merely taking a shot in the dark in which of the four you are.”

“Oh?”

She nodded once, a flurry of powder falling from her hair. A muffled shout from the back door startled her, grabbing her attention. “Ah,” the woman waved the air in front of her face, “I suppose I should take my leave��get cleaned up.”

“Of course,” Benedict said simply. “I won’t keep you.” In nearly an instant, the mysterious dusted lady disappeared from view, diving into the back door. He was taken aback by her candidness—having addressed him so forwardly without the pleasantries of a name exchange. “Damn,” he mumbled to himself, kicking residual flour off of his polished shoe, “I never asked for her name.” Would it be too forward to knock on the back door to ask for her? Benedict Bridgerton couldn’t wrap his head around the interaction—she nearly sent him into a tizzy.

“Brother?” 

Eloise stood at the end of the alley, clutch in hand, face pinched in confusion. 

“Ah, I suppose you’re finished?”

“Hardly,” Eloise scoffed, “Mother insisted on doubling the initial order ‘just to be safe’. She’ll be out in a moment.” 

“Perhaps I should go inside to accompany her—”

“And leave your unwed sister unchaperoned in this part of town?” Eloise pressed a hand to her brother’s chest, stopping him dead in his tracks. His eyes danced quickly to the street in the distance, clearly not paying any attention to his sister. “Benedict?”

“Hm?” He glanced down. “Ah, maybe we should both go back inside—”

“You’re…” she pushed on him harder, nearly sending him backwards. “Acting strange. Not terribly long ago you wanted nothing to do with this place and now, you’re dying to jump into the building that brought you so much strife?” Eloise removed her hand from him, settling it down by her side as she glanced at him up and down. The blues of his outfit were covered slightly in a white power—not enough to really notice, but enough to give the appearance of filth. “And you’re covered in… flour?”

“I don’t wish to share every moment of my day with you, dear Sister,” Benedict said simply, sighing contently. “My business is my business.”

“Business,” Eloise parroted. “Sure.”

Violet Bridgerton had finished the order quickly, mumbling something about the higher prices this time of year—she had gotten a good deal regardless. Benedict was hardly listening, for he was already planning his next trip to this very bakery, hoping to meet the girl in flour once more. 

He never did get the chance, to go back to town. His studies took up most of his free time, any other moment he had was spent with his ever-growing family. Just recently, his sister Daphne brought over her newest addition—another daughter named Belinda—who happened to be yet another spitting image of her mother. Benedict had a theory that every new Bridgerton baby will simply just inherit all the Bridgerton features, so far he had been proven correct. 

“Damn,” Benedict mumbled, violently dabbing a paint brush into his water cup, the colors swirling from the end.

He had been in his studio for the last few hours, mixing endless pigments and oils together, trying to concoct the color in his mind’s eye. It was impossible, he theorized, to create the exact shades and hues of her eyes. It was the most striking thing he remembered about her appearance—save for the copious amount of white flour caking her form—and Benedict Bridgerton had come to the conclusion that her eyes were simply forged by God Himself, a color not meant for mortal recreation.

“Why can I not…” He sighed, slumping back in his stool, paintbrush nearly hitting his trousers. “This is impossible.”

The grand clock beside the door chimed out. It was nearly time to get ready for Anthony and Kate’s ball—an occasion he was most dreading, save for enjoying the few pastries that came from the quaint bakery down in town. Reluctantly, he began to pry himself from his studio and made his way to the washroom, preparing to soak away any remnants of her.

—

“Mother,” (Y/N) chimed out, tying the serving apron to her waist, “I don’t see the reason for my attendance this evening. Surely the hosts of the event will have their own serving staff?”

“(Y/N),” her mother exasperated, throwing a towel down. “Your brothers are ill and bedridden and have been the last few days. Your father and I are counting on you to help fulfill the order, my back isn’t what it used to be, if you recall.”  

The girl sighed, her eyes rolling right up to the cracking ceiling. “How funny, it seems your back flares up nearly in time for deliveries to be made,” the girl mumbled.

“What was that?” Her mother turned quickly towards her only daughter. “I’m sure I misheard you.”

“You must have,” (Y/N) sang. “For I said I’m willing to help with the delivery, mother.”

The older woman narrowed her brow. “Never do I hear such sass from the boys… Perhaps a bit of manual labor will refocus your priorities.” 

“I already agreed,” (Y/N) reiterated. “As if I had terribly too much of a choice…”

“No,” her mother clicked, slapping the a rather large ball of dough that resided on the floured surface. “You do not. Now come, help your mother roll this out.”

She had gotten ready for the ball in record time—seeing as how she’s never gotten ready for one. (Y/N) dug through her mother’s wardrobe, finding an old and somewhat outdated green dress to wear, but it did the trick just fine. It was far nicer than the frocks she had owned anyhow, a light embroidery laced the edges and was sure to be run over by her fingertips endlessly throughout the evening.   

“The carriage is here!” Her father couldn’t have shouted louder throughout the small flat. Their home resided above the bakery, a quaint little thing with only two bedrooms—(Y/N) had the pleasure of sleeping in a rather over-glorified closet. If she reached her arms out, she’d be able to touch two of the walls easily, but like everything in her life, she made do. Unexpected child? Unexpected room. 

“I’ll be right there,” (Y/N) said, tying the now-cleaned apron around her waist, checking herself in the reflection of her water pitcher. “Damned hair,” her fingers moved to tuck a loose ringlet back into position—she had spent the better part of the evening trying to style it. 

“We need to load the carriage and make way to Bridgerton House,” her father repeated, smoothing his formalwear out. He hardly had the chance to wear it, seeing as situations like this happen only once in a while. “We must make a good impression, perhaps we’ll find more business this evening.”

“That’ll be a blessing,” her mother agreed, heading down the stairs to the bakery. “We could always use more business and the dowager viscountess is well liked around the ton, surely she’ll have pleasant things to say about our work.”

“I thought we let the pastries ‘speak for themselves’,” (Y/N) chimed in, carefully picking up a parcel. Her parents simply glared at her, allowing their daughter to silently move along with the loading process. 

The silence continued throughout the lengthy ride to Bridgerton House—the bakers not uttering a word until disembarking to unload all of the sweets. True to her original thought, the Bridgertons had their staff do the bulk of the unloading, carrying each parcel and box into the grand room that was to be the heart of the ball, all that was left to move was the elegant cake specially ordered by the dowager viscountess.

“Do you need a hand?”

“Oh, that would be—” (Y/N) turned around to the mysterious voice, only to find the same Bridgerton boy from earlier in the week standing behind her. “I—Mr. Bridgerton, I’m sure I can find my father to assist, you really don’t need to—”

“I insist,” Benedict held up his hand, effectively cutting her off. “I shouldn’t allow a lady to carry such a thing on her own, it would be most improper.”

“I’m certainly no lady,” she scoffed, readjusting her apron. “I’m not a part of your ‘season’ or whatever it is you lot do during the spring and summer months.”

Benedict barked out a laugh. “Debuted into the Marriage Mart or not, you’re still a lady and I am ever the gentleman, so please, indulge me.”

A blinding heat flushed across her cheeks—she was sure it was visible from down the street. (Y/N) stepped to the side to allow Benedict to grab ahold of one side of the tray, her hands curling around the other. “Thank you… for your help.”

“It’s no bother,” Benedict said truthfully. “I’ve been practically bored out of my skull all afternoon, this is truly the highlight of my evening.”

“Helping me carry a cake?” She asked, turning a corner carefully.

“Seeing you again,” he hummed unabashedly, noting the way her grip stiffened. “Though I must say, I think I prefer you without the flour.”

“How do you know that girl was me? I was covered head to toe.”

“Your eyes,” Benedict said simply. “They’re the most expressive and exquisite eyes I’ve had the pleasure of viewing.”

Benedict Bridgerton. The man who made her speechless.

“That, and I made a bold assumption when I saw you and the pastries arrive this evening.” He laughed lightly, afraid to drop the masterpiece. “I assumed correctly, no?”

“You,” (Y/N) tried to allow her cheeks to cool before continuing.“Would be correct. Very wise you are, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Benedict.”

“Benedict,” she repeated softly, twisting herself to set the cake down on the table. “My apologies.”

The ballroom was grand—much nicer than any place she’d dream of residing in—delicate decorations hung from the sconces, flowers covered nearly every inch of the free space. It was, in every meaning, elegant. “This is… where you live?”

“Ah,” Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “My brother has been kind to allow me to stay here since he married, seeing as I only have my own property in the country. But yes, this is one of the homes I grew up in.”

“One of the homes,” she repeated back to him. “And here I thought I was spoiled with my broom closet.”

He turned a vibrant shade of red. “Oh! I didn't mean to—”

Her laughter filled the ballroom, the lightness practically lifting Benedict upwards. “I was merely teasing. I’m well aware of your status and wealth, Mr. Bridgerton—” 

“Benedict.”

“Ah! Sorry,” (Y/N) felt the twinge of shame hit her chest, it was small but enough to keep her in line to avoid making the mistake again. “I meant it in jest.”

“Funny girl,” Benedict clicked, waving his finger lightly. “You’ve got quite a sense of humor.”

“Growing up with nothing more than sacks of flour and parcels of sugar allows one to get creative with her jokes,” she explained carefully, treading lightly as to not make it sound completely miserable. “Though, I think they were a better audience anyhow…”

“You wound me,” a hand grabbed his heart, knees buckling towards the ground. “Oh how the lady wounds me.”

“I believe I told you, Benedict, I certainly am no lady.”

“Well, the lady has neglected to give me her name,” he peeked up from the floor—having found quite a cozy position. “So how else should I address such a fair maiden?”

“Fair maiden,” she scoffed playfully, voice barely above a whisper. “Certainly am nothing close to a maiden… but, if you must know,” she paused, “my name is (Y/N), (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“(Y/N)…” Benedict repeated it, mostly to himself. He rose from the floor, eyes not leaving her own. “What a beautiful name.”

“I—thank you. I suppose you should give my parents such a compliment, though. I am simply the recipient of such a gift.”

“Well, when I ask your parents for permission to court their daughter, I’ll pass the message along.”

She froze. 

“Ah, what was that?”

“I hate to be so bold,” Benedict sighed, shoving a hand into his pocket. “But I feel the need to let you know of my intentions—my interest in you.”

“Oh you must be mistaken,” (Y/N) shook her head. “You’d want nothing to do with a girl like me. Surely there are other women in the ton who strike your fancy?”

“Nope,” he said simply. “Not a one. You, on the other hand, with your striking eyes and seemingly endless beauty, piqued my interest. If I may be honest, I haven’t stopped thinking about our encounter in the alley—it’s been on the forefront of my mind for days.”

She blinked, the gears in her head trying to keep up with the words Benedict was speaking. “But I am not from your world, Benedict. Even if I was interested in pursuing a courtship—”

“Are you not?” His eyes struck wide open. “I’m quite the catch, you see. Well-bred, scholarly and, if I might say so myself, I’m quite the talented artist. Easy on the eyes, too.”

“Benedict.” He stopped and looked at the woman. She was practically glowing in the candlelight. “While I’m not saying I’m… not interested, I can’t help but feel like you are infatuated with the idea of me and not… me.”

“How do you mean?”

She laughed humorlessly. “You don’t know me, truly. My likes, dislikes, how I take my tea, what weather I fancy—”

“See,” Benedict grabbed her hand, “I wish to know those things. Is that not the purpose of a courtship?”

“I am not from your world, Benedict. I have priorities, a duty to my family and our business—I can’t spend a moment thinking of the frivolity of a courtship with a man of your status.”

“But if I were, say, the butcher’s son it would be different?”

“Yes,” she removed her hand from his. “Of course it would be. I’m surprised you haven’t thought this through.”

“I have been thinking it through since we’ve met,” Benedict nearly spat, feeling anger bubble up in his chest. “I am not the type of man who wishes to court just anyone, you know.”

“So you wish to court me just because you can? Because how ever could I say no?”

“I—of course not!”

“We’re perfect strangers who shared a moment—albeit an endearing one—out in the middle of an alley. We both cleaned up and went about our lives,” she shook her head. “Nothing cosmic or magical about it.”

“I did not expect you to be so against the idea, unless… there’s another man of your affections?”

She groaned, pinching her nose. “No. No other man. Has a woman ever said no to you before, Mr. Bridgerton?”

He paused, clearly taken aback.

“Well,” she smoothed the tablecloth, the wrinkle in the bottom corner was annoying her, “let me be the first, then. No, I am not interested in a courtship, nor do I think I have any interest in a courtship—with you or anyone—so do not take it terribly too personally.” 

“Never? Don’t you plan to have a family of your own?”

“I already have a family,” she said simply. “I have no time for foolish ideas of having an adoring husband, three beautiful babies and a peaceful life out in the country.”

“That seems awfully specific—”

“No matter,” she waved. “Thank you for your interest, Mr. Bridgerton, I am flattered, truly.”

She walked away, hoping to hide in the carriage the rest of the night. Was she a fool? To turn down a courtship from such a sophisticated and notable man of the ton?

Benedict seemed to think so. True to her comment, he couldn’t recall a time in which a woman had rejected his advances—never in the name of a courtship, this would be his first—so to watch her walk away stung deeply, like a thorn to his heart. He was genuinely interested in the girl, he knew it. He just needed to prove it to her.

—

Days had passed since the Bridgerton ball and (Y/N) had successfully faked a stomach ache and ‘rested’ in the carriage until the night was over and done with. She was busy in the kitchen, working hard on a batch of fresh loaves for the storefront. Flour dusted her apron—the humor not lost on her—as she thought more and more about Benedict’s proposal. 

The bell to the shop rang out, her brother’s voice gave a muffled greeting, nothing out of the ordinary for a regular day at the bakery. It was calming, to work with the dough, taking virtually nothing and creating something delicious was soothing to her soul. She continued to knead the dough, working it like clay against her palms before the door to the back swung wide open.

“(Y/N), I do believe you have a visitor,” Harry, her second eldest brother smirked. He had finally recovered enough to help around the shop again, much to their mother’s delight. “One of the gentlemen variety, if you must know.”  

She stopped dead in her tracks.

“Did he give you a name?”

“Only asked for you,” Harry shrugged. “I figured you must’ve been expecting him,” he walked closer to her, taking over the kneading, “brought you flowers and looks rather fancy.”

She wiped her hands off on the already soiled apron, clapping her hands once for good measure. “Don’t over-work those, I’ll shove your face into the oven.”

Harry’s laugh rang out through the kitchen as she braved the door to the store. She knew it was inevitable, to expect him to come and try to woo her again, though she wasn’t expecting it so soon. The door felt rough against her palms, swinging wide open to the storefront. Sure enough, a one Benedict Bridgerton was standing by the counter, eyeing the various loaves on display. 

“Ah, Miss. (Y/L/N),” Benedict said, almost bowing. “I’m delighted you could join me.”

“Mr. Bridgerton,” (Y/N) smiled sickeningly sweet, forced beyond all measure. “What a… surprise.”

“A wonderful one, I presume?” He jested. Her eyes found the colorful bouquet quickly, she was trying her hardest to not make eye contact. It was ornate—fancy, just like her brother said—decked out in a healthy mix of wild blooms and expensive looking flowers. “Ah! My apologies, these are for you,” Benedict said, lifting the bouquet across the counter. 

She reluctantly took them, cradling the bunch as if it were a newborn babe. “Thank you, Mr. Bridgerton.”

He swallowed thickly at the formality of his name, but bit his tongue. “I must say, you looked exquisite at the ball, but I think your natural element suits you more favorably, why, you’re practically glowing.” Benedict pointed to her floured apron and messy frock, having been in the kitchen all morning. “Less flour than the first time.”

Her grip tightened around the bouquet. “Is there anything I can help you with? Perhaps another order for your mother?”

The man shook his head, laughing lightly. “No, no order. I just wished to see you.” The bluntness of his answer nearly shocked her, but the effect wore quickly.

“Perhaps I wished the opposite?”

“Oh, my dear,” Benedict practically mewled. “If that were true, you wouldn’t have come out here in the first place, now would you?”

Like a gaping trout, she had no reply. Perhaps he was right. She didn’t have to come out to the front of the store, the gnawing curiosity got the better of her and practically pulled her through that door. 

“If you are here to try to get me to change my mind—”

“I wish to spend the afternoon with you.”

She blinked.

“Just one afternoon, allow me to try and prove how serious I am about courting you,” Benedict said earnestly. “After that, if you are still of the same mind, I will never bother you again. You have my word.”

Hesitantly, she lowered the bouquet, her shoulders slumping. She was thinking so hard about his offer, Benedict swore he could see steam rising from her ears. “I… cannot just leave the bakery, it’s my family’s livelihood—”

“I’ll buy the lot,” Benedict said, pressing a handful of coins onto the counter top. “Sell me whatever it is you make in a day—a small price to pay for a moment of your time.”

“You cannot simply throw your money at things and expect it to always work out for you, Mr. Bridgerton,” she said sternly, eyeing the sack of coins longingly. She would be kidding herself if the offer didn’t sound appealing. “I am no woman on the corner, you cannot buy my time.”

“Then consider it a tip,” Benedict hummed, pushing the bag closer to her. “For your excellent service at the Bridgerton ball. Nothing nefarious, nothing expected of you. Just a man buying some bread.”

“Loads of bread,” (Y/N) mumbled, quickly calculating how many loaves he truly was willing to walk out with. The amount of money was unclear, but if she had to wager, he practically bought out the whole storefront. Her parents would be thrilled—they could even take a rare day off, just because their daughter spent the afternoon with a practical stranger. “Fine. One afternoon.”

The glee that washed across his body did not go unnoticed, he practically lit up the room with his joy.

“You won’t regret this,” he said seriously. “Trust that my intentions are pure and—”

“—honest and true,” she droned, finishing his thought. “Yes, yes, I understand.”

Benedict nodded. “Right. Well, shall we?”

“Will you allow me a moment to change? I do not think you wish to spend your day with a girl caked in flour.”

“Funny enough, I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he grinned. She was unamused. “But, if you insist.”

It didn’t take long for her to clean up, a change in her frock and a readjustment to her hair was all that was needed. She found herself staring in her mirror a bit longer than usual, taking in her features. Could he really be interested in her? He seemed so taken by her looks when she herself considered them… so plain. She shook her head, effectively jumping out of her haze and proceeded to head back downstairs to meet her suitor for the afternoon. 

“Perhaps you were right,” Benedict said softly. “This may be your best look to date.”

A heat warmed her cheeks and it wasn’t the summer sun. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Bridgerton—” 

“Ah!” Benedict waved a finger. “If we are to spend the afternoon together, I insist you call me by my given name.”

Her lips pressed together in protest. “If you insist—”

“Oh and I do, my darling,” Benedict nearly sang.

“Benedict,” she corrected. “What sorts of plans do you have for this afternoon? Surely you did not produce such a grand gesture only to leave our day up to chance.”

“I am feeling quite parched,” Benedict said, almost ignoring her comment. “Care for a spot of tea?” In their walk down the street, he had managed to stop right in front of a quaint little tea shop. She hardly noticed.

“And if I do not care for tea?”

“I hear they have excellent scones and biscuits,” Benedict countered. “Surely not sweeter than you, but delicious all the same.”

“Sweeter than my scones, you mean?”

Benedict raised a brow, puckering his lips lightly. She heard him correctly the first time. “So. Tea?”

They sat at a small table near the back of the shop, a hot pot of herbal tea sat between them. It looked entirely domestic, a pot of tea shared between lovers, any onlooker could have deduced as much.

“Pass the honey?” (Y/N) pointed to the small jar next to Benedict’s hand. He nodded and pushed it closer to her.

“You take your tea with honey?” He probed.

“Herbal tea, yes,” she confirmed, stirring a spoonful into her cup. “If it is black tea, a healthy amount of milk is entirely welcomed in my drink, no sugar.”

“Interesting,” Benedict said, watching her intently stir the honey until it dissolved into the hot liquid. “I prefer plain black tea myself, though occasionally my brother Colin will bring exquisite teas from his travels across the seas.”

“And Colin is which brother?” The question slipped out quickly, she hardly noticed she had asked.

“One of my two younger brothers,” Benedict smiled gently. “Not much younger than I, but I do have a few years on him, not as many as I have on Gregory, of course. He’s practically the babe of the family—save for sweet Hyacinth.”

“Eight children…” She thought aloud. “Were your parents working towards a record number?”

“I always jest that they wished to complete the entire alphabet,” Benedict mused. “But, alas, twenty six seems a bit much.” He took a sip of his tea, enjoying the lingering aroma. “So, you know there are eight of us?”

“Everyone knows your family,” she said simply. “Do not flatter yourself.”

“Of course,” he hummed into his cup, a smile brewing from his lips. “You have siblings, yes? I believe I met your brother earlier.”

“Two older brothers,” (Y/N) groaned lightly. “Jack and Harry, the latter being the one you met. They are… oh how do I put this? Exceptionally irritating.”

Benedict laughed into his drink. “Sounds quite a lot like my siblings.”

“My parents expect Jack to take over the bakery,” she explained quietly, her voice lowering. “But he has no desire to bake whatsoever. He can hardly make a sponge cake.”

“And a sponge cake is…?”

“One of the most basic cake recipes a baker can learn,” she continued. “I usually end up being the one who pulls the slack Jack creates.”

“And Harry?”

“When he isn’t galavanting across town with the ladies of the night, he is holed up in his room doing Lord knows what. Certainly nothing that helps the family business.”

“You care a lot about your family and the business,” Benedict said, stating what is clearly the obvious. “Surely your parents see it too?”

“Oh no,” she shook her head wildly. “That is the most asinine part of the ordeal! They simply do not see me as an asset to the bakery—something that should rightfully be mine should the time come.” She sighed, throwing her head into her hands. “But, I am expected to keep my head down and decorate cakes like a good girl.”

“You say that as if you are their pet,” Benedict scoffed lightly. “Do they truly expect such obedience from you?”

“I wasn’t wanted,” she said simply. “My parents merely wanted a son to take over the business—Jack, he’s the oldest. Good for nothing, as it turns out. Harry was to have an extra set of hands around the bakery, but now he’s their prodigal child. Me? I was shacked with an over glorified closet for a room because there truly was no space for me.” She sniffled. “At least they got a decorator out of it.”

Benedict tentatively put his hand on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “You’re more than a decorator. Surely your parents see that too?”

“They’ll see some use of me when I get home,” she said into her cup. “Seeing as you bought out our store just to spend a measly few hours with me. I’m sure that in of itself is worth having an accidental daughter.”

Benedict all but scoffed at this. “You cannot be serious.”

“Not everyone comes from loving families that wish to do nothing more than pop out babies left and right,” (Y/N) deadpanned, placing her cup back on the table. “If it were truly up to my parents, they would’ve stopped after Jack. But, much like the society you come from, an heir and a spare, I suppose.”

“And you?” Benedict almost felt afraid to ask. 

“It’s like you said,” she finished her cup of tea. “I am simply a pet.”

Benedict was never one for fights, but he suddenly had the urge to put his fist through a handful of faces in that moment. “That’s awful.” It was all he could say. 

“That’s life,” she shrugged, picking up a biscuit and examining it closely. Her nose scrunched. “If you were trying to gain my favor, perhaps you should’ve taken me somewhere with better biscuits. It’s insulting to a baker to see such poorly made ones, especially in a place like this.”

He knew she was trying to change the subject. “I shall do better next time.”

“Yes, I suppose you—” she stopped. “That was a rotten trick and you know it.”

“I am certainly no magician, (Y/N),” Benedict finished his tea, hiding the most devilish of smiles from behind the cup. “But seeing as we’re finished with our pot, perhaps we can take a turn about the park?”

“You’d risk public outcry and a scandal for being seen with a commoner in the park?” (Y/N) asked, pulling herself from her seat. “What would Lady Whistledown say?”

“You know of Lady Whistledown?”

“Everyone knows of Lady Whistledown,” she scoffs. “I may not have the pleasure to afford her column every time she publishes, but occasionally our regulars will leave their pamphlet for me once they’re finished.”

“Only read the good bits, I take it?”

“As much as I don’t understand the world you come from, Benedict, reading Whistledown helps me fill the gaps I am so obviously lacking. Truly, even if I did grow up in your society, I doubt I’d be able to understand much more than I do now anyway.”

“I reckon you’re right,” Benedict said, a laugh escaping through his nose. “I’m not one for society anyway—never cared much for it.”

“Surely news of this would cause a scandal, though?”

“News that I am simply walking in the park with a friend? Oh how the newsboys will have trouble selling that story,” Benedict mused, leaning down towards the lady. “Perhaps if we were seen doing something less proper, I suppose. Do you wish to be doing something less proper, (Y/N)?”

She didn’t dignify his question with a response, though, the rouge on her cheeks was answer enough.

—

It only took a handful of minutes to walk to the park, the tea shop was so close already. How convenient.

The other ladies in the park, the ones of a more genteel breeding, they were dressed finer than anything (Y/N) could have put on. She felt out of place. She usually did, of course, but something about her outdated frock in contrast to how striking Benedict looked and dressed? It felt rather foolish. 

Perhaps it was the notoriety of the Bridgerton walking beside her, or the self consciousness of being underdressed enough to catch the eyes of anyone walking past, but it felt like she was a spectacle—something in a museum or on display. She was holding bright light, nearly shouting at everyone that she was not enough, not worthy to be in this park, let alone with this man.

“I am tired of walking,” (Y/N) said suddenly. 

“We have only just begun,” he laughed. “But if you require a respite—”

“Let’s sit,” (Y/N) said just as quickly, practically running to the edge of the pond. Perfectly out of sight to everyone.

“How secluded,” Benedict mused. “I daresay, I never thought you’d be so agreeable—”

“Hush,” (Y/N) admonished, holding a finger up. “I am simply in need of a break—away from prying eyes.”

Benedict nodded, not daring to pry further. He watched her slump to the ground, her dress skirt billowing around her like a cloud before settling to the gravity. He continued to stand. “I rather like this park.”

“A park is a park.”

“Have you been before?”

“Here?” She shook her head. “Obviously not.”

“My family, we would come to London during the social season,” Benedict explained. “Our usual residence is out in Kent—anyhow, my father had this spectacular notion to come to the park every week as a family. Looking back, it was probably to save face and show a united Bridgerton front.”

She looked up at Benedict, who was currently plucking a few leaves off of the low hanging branches of the tree. “Sounds wise.”

“He was the wisest,” Benedict agreed. “Keeping the ever-growing number of Bridgerton children entertained became a sport. Anthony, Colin and I were always squabbling, drove my mother rightfully insane, so, my father had a bright idea.”

“Paste your lips together?” She offered. 

Benedict knelt down, close to the edge of the water. “No, but I do not doubt that idea crossed their minds,” he laughed, bringing the leaves in his hands to view, “my father suggested racing.”

“Horse racing?”

He shook his head. “We’d each pick a leaf and follow it to the other edge of the pond—kept us entertained for hours, running back and forth to reset our leaves and chase them down.”

“Smart man,” she hummed, genuinely impressed by the late viscount’s cleverness.

“So, pick your contender,” Benedict said softly, displaying the spare leaves like cards in a deck. 

“You are serious?”

“Dead serious, I’m afraid,” Benedict clicked, pushing his hand a bit closer to her. “Come on, humor me.”

She looked down at the leaves and back up at Benedict, his blue eyes rivaling the color of the pond. Taking an interest in the middle leaf—it was the longest and skinniest—she plucked it from his fingers. “This one.”

“Excellent choice,” Benedict said cheerily, dropping the other leaves. “I am more inclined to a smaller one—seems they move faster down the shore.”

“Size isn’t everything, Mr. Bridgerton,” (Y/N) crossed her arms, resting them on her knees. She would never dare to admit it out loud, but she was having a bit of fun.

“Ah, perhaps not,” Benedict jested with her, her jab not even shocking him in the slightest. “But, I reckon it will be a close match regardless.”

After insuring that the lovely lady in his company was watching his movements closely, he set the leaves down on the surface of the water. “Finish line is by that tree over there,” he pointed, finally letting go with his other hand.

“May the best leaf win,” she giggled. Giggled? Good Lord. A crooked grin cracked on his face, focused too intently at the company rather than the match at hand. “Are you not going to chase them?”

“And leave you?” He scoffed. “Perish the thought.”

“I just thought,” her gaze was caught on the leaves, still floating down the edge of the pond—slower than she anticipated, “well, I suppose I wanted to get the whole picture of your family tradition.”

“Shall I run along the coast, then?” Benedict asked playfully, rising back to his feet, thumb pushed towards the water. 

“Only to humor me,” she shrugged, not even fighting the smile on her face. 

“Well, in that case,” Benedict began to remove his jacket, throwing it beside her. With a light jog he caught up to the leaves, they hadn’t gone very far anyway, perhaps if it were a windier day he’d have a faster time to keep up with. “You are in the lead!” He called out. 

“Brilliant!” Her hands were clasped around her mouth, a cone to help amplify her shout. His smile was like the sun, warm and inviting—she wished she could spend the day in such a warmth. Benedict practically jumped for joy when the leaves made it to the final stretch, crossing to the rocks on the shore. Nearly falling into the water, he managed to scoop the leaves up and jog back to the woman in the grass. “Well?”

“Well, what?” He asked, nearly out of breath, smile still pulling his lips upward. 

“The winner?”

“Ah,” he fell to the ground, sitting comfortably next to the baker’s daughter, pocketing the leaves. “A secret.”

“So you lost?”

“Oh, I assure you, if you won I would be celebrating you until the end of our time together,” Benedict sang. “However…”

“I lost?” She scoffed. 

“A gentleman is humble in his successes,” he explained carefully. “We could go again?”

“No,” she said, humor in her voice. “I think that was more than enough excitement for one afternoon.”

“For once, we agree,” he said. “May I…? Could I ask you a question?”

“If you are proposing marriage, I am afraid I’ll have to decline—”

“No, no,” he laughed heartily. “Nothing of that sort.”

“I suppose I could find it in myself to answer a different question, then.”

“You were cold to me this morning,” Benedict noted, twirling a blade of grass between his fingers. “But not on the day we met. What changed?”

She sighed, pulling her knees to her chest, gaze locked out on the now setting sun. “I… am not entirely sure.”

“Surely it was not the leaves—”

“The leaves may have helped,” she admitted. “Humanized you, in a way.”

“Was I inhuman before?”

“Naturally,” she retorted. “I mean, is it not obvious?”

“You were protecting your feelings,” Benedict finally realized. “All this time. You did not wish to be hurt—truly afraid I was merely stringing you along as an elaborate prank or ruse? Is that right?”

“How could someone like you ever have an interest in a pauper like me? The baker’s daughter and the son of a viscount?” Tears dotted her eyes, threatening to fall. How she came so close to crying was beyond her. “It seems implausible.”

Benedict dropped the grass, fully looking at the lady beside him. She had made herself nearly as small as she felt. He had hit the nail on the head. A gust of wind blew by, bringing leaves down from the tree above. 

“I do not think less of you because of whose daughter you are,” Benedict said softly, removing a stray leaf from her hair. His fingers guided her head towards him, begging for her to look his way. “I care only about you. Getting to know you. Frankly, your father seems like a mostly alright man, but I do not wish to know him the way I wish to know you.”

“You may wish for that,” she sniffled. “But what would the rest of your world think? You, trying to court a woman below your status—”

“The only people who should be caring so deeply about my potential courtship are my intended and me,” Benedict said sharply. “The rest of the ton can frankly kiss my rear end.”

This raised a laugh out of her. It was bubbly and pure, almost like the one of a child. “You truly don’t care what people think about you?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I do not.”

“How freeing that must be,” she said. 

“Being the second son has its perks,” Benedict looked at her, really looked at her. “No one expects me to be proper all the time. I am given the freedom—financially and otherwise—to do as I please. I do not have to worry about inheriting a title, siring heirs, that is my brother’s responsibility.”

“Why me?”

His head quirked. “I do not understand?”

“You could court any girl of the ton,” she said. “And I am sure more than half of them would never turn down a chance to be courted by a Bridgerton—”

“They wished for the title,” Benedict sighed. “To be Viscountess Bridgerton, to marry my older brother and have the notoriety. That ship has already sailed, I'm afraid. You are kind in thinking that many women would be after me though.”

“You are not ugly,” she listed, “you have a great humor about you, a pleasant demeanor and a kindness in your eyes. The women of the ton must be foolish, then.”

“Perhaps the foolish one is you?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You truly think those things about me?” He asked, awaiting a response. Her jaw was slack, clearly not about to give him any sort of confirmation to his question. “I believe your words, I do. But perhaps you should look at yourself with such eyes?”

“I-I don’t understand—”

“Our class differences aside,” Benedict said, as if it was easy to just ignore that, “while I was taken by your beauty at first—your eyes are something the Gods themselves forged in the fires, stars rivaling their shine—it was your continuous personality that kept my attention. Granted, it helped you were once covered head-to-toe in flour, it really brought out your features.”

Her cheeks flared at the recollection of their first meeting. “It was not my finest moment.”

“And you were vulnerable all the same,” he continued. “You cared not for who I was, yet, you showed an interest in me anyway. You may not agree with that statement, but you and I know it to be true in some shape or form. The only thing that holds you back is this notion on our classes—”

“Perhaps I am interested in you,” (Y/N) cut him off. “Perhaps I wish to be courted by you, attend balls and dress in pretty gowns, drinking expensive drinks and whispering sweet nothings. But that is all that it is—a wish. I know my place in this world, it is a right shame you have such a fantasy about yours.”

“(Y/N)…”

���No,” she stood up, brushing the blades of grass and leaves off of her skirt. “I hoped that you would understand, Benedict. I agreed to this afternoon because it felt like I had no choice in the matter—you practically bought my time, after all. What I did not expect,” she hiccuped, “I did not expect that I would enjoy such an afternoon.”

“You enjoyed yourself,” Benedict rose to his feet, desperate to match her gaze head on. “Why can you not allow yourself to have that joy? Allow your heart to follow its call?”

“I do not have such liberties to listen to my heart,” (Y/N) said softly. “I must use my head for every choice I make. An afternoon with you allowed my family to have enough money to make it through the end of the season without going hungry—”

“And an afternoon with me has brought such happiness to fill your soul for much longer—”

“Happiness has little importance,” she scoffed. “I would rather see my family healthy and surviving than even think about a notion like happiness or joy.”

“You have said yourself that your family treats you like a pet,” Benedict took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. He needn’t explode in the park. “Why do you care so much about them if they care so little for you?”

“Because it is all that I know!” The candle had finally reached its end, burning out with a sizzle. “All I have ever known is my life in the bakery, rising early to make the dough, peddling samples to those walking by and hoping—praying—that they step in our store and purchase something. Because a sale of a few loaves of bread or cakes meant we could afford to buy vegetables for a soup, something to eat with our days old bread.”

“If you were with me, you wouldn’t ever need to think about things like that again,” Benedict said, his voice wavering on a whisper. “I could support you, support your family.”

“And that is precisely why I do not wish to continue this,” she raised her finger. “I do not need an affluent man to come and save me—”

“But I could help—”

“I do not need your help!”

“You obviously do!”

She took a step back, the tears from before finally reappearing in her eyes. “O-obviously? Because I am of a lower class you believe, in that giant and empty head of yours, that you can simply win my favor by saving me? Offering riches and experiences that I should be grateful and thanking every God that will listen that you are even willing to give me?”

“You know that is not what I meant—” 

“You believe that because you are who you are, and I am who I am, that I couldn’t possibly say no to you,” her gaze flicked with anger, a fire looming. “While the ladies of the ton have their choices, I do not, so it makes it easy for you to pine over someone who simply has no choice in the matter.”

“No—(Y/N)—”  

“This afternoon has been lovely,” (Y/N) spat, looking to the skyline—the sun had finally set, “but I am afraid that the afternoon is over. I shall be taking my leave.”

“Please reconsider,” Benedict begged, willing to try anything to get her to stay. “I wish to know you.”

“A shame, then,” (Y/N) said, turning around. “Wishing for something so foolish.”

—

“Her head is in the clouds,” Jack whispered.

“No, I reckon her head is in the dough,” Harry mumbled back to his brother. 

“I can hear you, you know,” (Y/N) ground out, working hard on a rather unruly clump of dough that simply would not cooperate. “And if I can hear you, you are close enough to be helping.”

“But that is so exhausting," Harry groaned, leaning against the countertop. “Besides, how are you ever going to impress your betrothed if you do not keep such toned arms?”

She threw the dough against the counter—hard. “He is not my betrothed.”

“But you wish for him to be, no?” Jack giggled, playing with a few burnt buns—a mishap of his own creation.

“I say, Sister,” Harry said. “Why do you not pursue that Bridgerton? He clearly is interested in you, or, have you forgotten all of the flowers he has sent?”

The front of the shop was practically a florist’s dream—covering every free inch of counter space with beautiful bouquets. Her mother simply refused to throw out such lovely blooms, even going so far as to fish the first one out of the trash after her daughter made quick work to dispose of it. “How could I possibly forget about the man who continuously flaunts his wealth to get what he wants?”

“He wants you, surely that is not lost on you?”

“Of course not,” she continued to knead, a few hairs falling into her face. “But he is so insistent on getting me to agree to his whims simply because—”

“He has money, (Y/N),” Jack scoffed. “Good money. Christ, you spent half of a day with him a few weeks ago and we were able to finally purchase meat for dinner. Imagine if you married him—”

“So you want your sister to be married off for your own financial gain?”

“What else would you marry for?” Harry laughed. “Love?”

She stopped kneading. “Why do you not go and try to marry a wealthy lady, then? Hm? Surely a woman of genteel breeding would be much taken by the idea of a rugged baker—”

“That Bridgerton is already interested,” Harry shrugged. “At the very least, if you end up with child he would provide enough funds—”

“First you wish to marry me off, now you wish for me to have his bastard?” She couldn’t help but laugh, ignoring her hard work on the counter. “Why can I not make my own choice? I do not wish to be with Mr. Bridgerton, I wish to stay here at the bakery.”

“Fucking stupid,” Jack scoffed. “If I were in your shoes, I would let the gentleman pay for anything my heart desires—forget about this wretched place and move on with my life.”

“And abandon our legacy?”

“You mean my legacy,” Jack corrected. “I am to inherit the bakery, it is my birthright. You? I suppose I will allow you to continue your grunt work here—” 

“Who else will do the baking?” Her voice rang throughout the kitchen. “Mother and Father are nearing the end of their career, both becoming too frail to continue with the rigorous task of this place. I am the only one—the only competent member of this family who can keep this shit afloat! And you want me to just… give that up?”

Jack stood a little straighter. “It was never your place.”

“Harry is set to inherit the bakery now, you know it. Yet someone had to fill the shoes of the family fuck-up instead, no?” 

It was a sharp pain, suddenly and all at once against her cheek. It took her only half a second later to realize what had happened, her other brother’s face was only a confirmation on the fact.

“Jack, what the hell?!” Harry practically screamed. “You hit her?”

“She insulted me!”

“You deserved it,” Harry said, pushing his older brother back. “She only spoke the truth—”

“So I am allowed to be walked over by my baby sister?” Jack scoffed, pushing Harry back. “A woman? No fucking chance, mate.”

Her hand had covered her cheek, already feeling warm to the touch. Everything was too much, too loud, too bright. She had to get out of there, had to forget all about the dough on the counter, forgetting all about the brother who had just smacked her silly. The back door wasn’t locked—no surprise as Jack was the last one to use it—making it easy for her to push into the alleyway and into the rain. 

Rain. 

Pelting like bullets, the wet drenched her clothing in a mere instant, making it harder to escape. Where had she planned to run anyway? She had nowhere to go, her entire world was contained to the four walls of the bakery, never daring to explore the rest of it, not when her world was already so encompassing, so inviting. 

In theory, anyway, it seemed.

So, she ran. A mix of running and walking, she kept moving forward. By the time she left her part of town, she knew her brothers would not bother coming for her. The rain alone was a deterrent, even Harry, the one who loved her more, wouldn’t dare to brave the elements just to reel his sister’s whims in. 

A splotch of purple entered her vision. How long had she been moving? Did she even expect to come here? Did her subconscious send her in this direction for a reason?

She knocked on the bright door before she could find out.

“Good evening, ma’am,” a butter said politely. “What business do you have?”

“I am here to call upon Benedict Bridgerton.”

—

His quill had soaked the parchment below with ink, having left the tip upon it for far too long. He had been lost in thought, contemplative, especially the last few weeks. Benedict knew he had hurt her, had insulted her very being, yet he still tried. Every other day he’d send a fresh bouquet to the bakery, a new poem attached to the stems. Perhaps she read them? He knew it was more likely that she burned them, in the ovens or otherwise. 

At the very least, he knew that the blooms were being displayed at the shop. Hope. That is what it had given him.

“Mr. Bridgerton, you have a caller,” a butler knocked, opening his door a crack wider.

“A caller? In this weather?”

“She seemed rather insistent,” the butler shrugged. “She is waiting in the drawing room—I already sent for tea and towels for the lady.”

“A lady is here to see me?” Benedict quirked his brow.

“A Miss. (Y/L/N),” the butler said. “No calling card, soaked to the bone and she seemed a bit… out of sorts.”

Benedict had already risen from his desk, practically pushing past the staff member to reach the stairs. Missing a step or two, he made it to the drawing room and shoved the door open. In the center of the blue room was (Y/N), dripping onto the wooden floor, shaking like a leaf.

“(Y/N)…” 

“I-I had nowhere else to go,” she began to explain. “I did not even realize I was here until I knocked on the door. It was foolish—”

“No,” Benedict shook his head, reaching to take her hand in his own. “It is quite alright. You are more than welcome to be here.”

His hands were warm, or perhaps she was just that cold, making them feel like a fire. “I am so sorry, Benedict.”

“For what?” He asked genuinely. 

“Everything?” She offered. “I-I am not sure of what, exactly, but I feel that I need to apologize.”

“You needn’t apologize for anything,” he said. “Not with me, not ever.”

She looked up at the ceiling, afraid to make contact with his blue stare. “I needed to get away. My brother he—Jack hit me.”

Benedict froze, his entire body went rigid. “I’ll kill him.”

“I suppose I deserved it,” she shrugged, now looking at the ground. “Talking back to him, assuming things that could never be—” 

“A man has assaulted you,” Benedict squeezed her hand tighter. “Brother or not, he put his hands on you. You did nothing of the sort to deserve such a thing.”

“I don’t think I can go back there,” (Y/N) said softly. “Perhaps this was just the moment that gave me clarity. Opened my eyes, so to speak.”

Benedict took a good look at her face, red and splotchy, whether it was from the smack or the tears, he could not tell. “Tea is on the way, I shall request a cold compress for your cheek—”

“I do not wish to impose.”

“You shall wish for nothing here,” Benedict said quietly, firmly. “You will stay until the rain lets up, or, you provide me with a suggestible plan for your next steps.”

“I cannot go back,” she finally looked up at Benedict. “As much as I would like to, I simply cannot.”

“If you do not want to go back, I will support you. If you want to leave town, the country even, I will support you,” he said seriously. “Please allow me to support you.”

“I could never ask you for that—”

“You are not asking, I am offering,” he clarified. 

“Benedict…”

The rain seemed to lessen, if the pelting against the window had anything to say about it. The noise had dimmed, not as violent as before. “To know that you are safe, that you are cared for, that is all I care about.”

So, in the center of the blue Bridgerton drawing room, soaked to the bone and dripping all over the floor, she kissed him. It was a sudden thing, pulling him down towards her lips, the contact much quicker than she had expected. He returned the favor in kind, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight, kissing her in a way he had yet to truly experience. 

If his hands were like a fire, his lips were an inferno. Fighting for dominance, it was all encompassing. How had she gone so long without a feeling such as this? The burn was coming from inside, not a superficial one atop her skin as she was quite used to, but this burn, this feeling, she could find herself craving this. 

“I-I am sorry—” she pulled away.

“Never be sorry,” Benedict shook his head. “Not for that, not ever.”

“I should not have done that…”

“No,” he agreed, a chuckle leaving his lips, “but how exhilarating it felt, regardless.”

His thumb ran lazy circles on her jaw. She leaned into the touch. “I do not know what to do, where to go…”

“But you cannot stay here…?”

She smiled sadly. “You know me scarily well, Benedict.”

He thought for a moment. “So… leave.”

“Excuse me?”

“Leave town, leave the country—”

“I do not have the means to do such a silly thing.”

“I will pay your way.”

She scoffed, trying to pull out of his embrace. He wouldn’t release his grip. “Benedict…”

“I told you, I wish to support you. Emotionally, financially, I want to be there for you,” Benedict said. “Even if we are not—if you do not want to be together romantically, I want to ensure your safety and your health, your well-being. A friend.”

She tried to find the lie in his eyes, in his tone. Coming up empty, she had no excuse to not believe him. 

“France,” he said, as if struck by lightning.

“France?”

“I hear only the expert bakers study in France—I have no doubts you could go to learn,” he explained. “I could pay for your travel, housing, you name it. Ask for it, and it is yours.”

“I doubt anyone would want to teach a woman, no matter how lovely a thought it might be.”

“I have a cousin,” Benedict explained. “Her and her husband own a café—I am quite certain that they would love to hire an expert baker to add to their inventory and menu. You could earn your own income, make your own way. A fresh start.”

“A fresh start…” she repeated. “That sounds too good to be true.”

“I shall write to her in the morning,” Benedict said, holding her hands again. 

“And you…?”

“I will only come with you if you want me to join,” Benedict said slowly. “I will not trap you. I want your happiness, your freedom.”

She nodded, understanding.

“I think France sounds nice,” she smiled. “Will you write to me?”

“Every chance I get.”

“Even if you are vexed with me?”

“Especially if I am vexed with you.”

She kissed his lips again, sweeter and softer than the first time.

“Sounds perfect.”

—

A year. An entire year had passed and she couldn’t recall a happier time in her life. The only time that something could have rivaled it was a visit to a tea shop followed by a respite by a pond—in handsome company all the while. 

They kept correspondence, just like they promised. Every week came a new letter, a new story to be told by the poetic Benedict Bridgerton. She tried to rival his words, explaining every detail about France, about her new life, but something was nagging. She missed him. They had grown close over the correspondence, leaving her heart wanting more. But, she knew when she left for France it was to fulfill her dreams, leaving a foolish notion like love on the back burner.

“(Y/N),” Marie, the Bridgerton cousin, called out behind her. “We are in need of more buns.”

“I just restocked the buns,” (Y/N) giggled, turning to the blonde. “What? Has someone mysteriously bought the lot?”

“Oui,” Marie said with a jest, heading into the storage room, “perhaps you should go bring more out?”

“You are in luck, the last batch just finished resting from the oven,” she said, carrying a tray on her shoulder, “I will bring them out with haste.”

“I am sure he will appreciate it.”

(Y/N) faltered, hand already pressed to the door leading to the front shop. A tingle ran through her spine, her heart picking up to a freeing flutter. 

Could it be?

“You know, I would buy your entire stock,” the man hummed, looking thoughtfully into the display case, “but I fear I would be recreating a rather taxing memory for the both of us.”

“Benedict,” she gasped, nearly dropping her tray. 

“You look radiant,” he mused, that wicked grin of his breaking on his face. “Much like the first time I saw you—covered in flour.”

“I am in my element,” (Y/N) said sweetly, “just as you would expect.” She had noticed that Marie and her husband were not in the café, the sign flipped to close. “You planned this.”

“Do you insinuate that I bribed my distant cousin to close her café to give you the day off, travel all the way to France, hoping I could spend the day with you?” Benedict scoffed playfully. “You truly do not know me at all.”

“I do not think Marie would take a bribe,” (Y/N) said slyly, knowing how much of a champion the cousin had been for the baker and viscount’s son to get together.

“She refused payment,” he admitted, agreeing with her notion. “But, was ever eager to see you get out of the kitchen and enjoy yourself.”

“You hadn’t written to me in two weeks,” (Y/N) said, walking around the counter. “I was worried.”

“I needed to refrain from our correspondence, I fear I would have let the surprise slip otherwise.”

“Smart man,” she hummed.

“I am known to be smart occasionally,” he shrugged.

“What are you doing here?” She finally asked. “N-not that I am not happy to see you, of course, but as you had said, this is a surprise.”

“I came to study art,” Benedict said, a hand in his coat pocket. “I felt that if I truly wanted to learn the craft, I needed to learn from the masters—many of their works are housed here in France. I even began to rent a little home in town, finding the need to stay a while.”

“That is the only reason?”

Benedict’s gaze softened. “Of course it is not the only reason.”

Her heart fluttered again.

“It is only fair that I try this again, correctly and without the prying eyes of society, this time,” Benedict said, clearing his throat and spinning around.

“Correctly?” She giggled, watching him twirl to face the door.

“Ah, good morning miss!” Benedict said, turning back to face (Y/N). “I must say, you look ever-so-pretty—tell me, do all bakers have a beauty such as your own?”

“I would wager no,” she said, trying to keep serious. “Most of the bakers around here are men.”

“Shame. Might I learn your name? It seems only fair—I fear I might just die if I do not know the sweet sound of it.”

“(Y/N),” she sang. “My name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“Benedict Bridgerton,” he stretched out his hand, reaching for her own. She allowed him to take it, a soft kiss was placed on the back of her cracked hand—a working hand, one that she was proud to have. 

“You are very charming, Mr. Bridgerton,” she hummed, looking deeply into his blue eyes. “Pleased to make your company.”

“I assure you, I am more pleased to be in yours,” Benedict insisted, kissing her hand again. “Tell me, do you have plans this afternoon?”

“It seems my schedule has cleared up,” she looked to the sign on the door and sighed. “Why? Do you have any suggestions on how I should spend it?”

“Might we take a turn around the park? A friend of mine has written to me about just how lovely one nearby is, I reckon I would like to see it for myself.”

She smiled brightly at him, as if he held the world in his hands. Instead, he held two leaves between his fingers—brown and cracked, but clearly treated with such care. They had been the same ones from their time at the park the first go around, she was nearly certain. Why else would he bring dead leaves with him?

"Leaves?"

"You see, my family, we have this tradition of racing with leaves—I would very much like to share it with you. These two in particular seem to be very lucky, thought it would be best to bring them along."

His smile melted her heart, endearing and thoughtful in the same breath. She could get used to a smile like that.

“Well… what are we waiting for, Mr. Bridgerton?”

[silly-mode-cilia]

im so sexy im sooo cool

[gremlingottoosilly]

A little cow girl hybrid with her owner farmer König

I raise the stakes!! Konig, who, as part of the contract that revolved around fighting a hybrid trafficking ring that sold demihumans as cattle, was sent to rescue some farm hybrid animals stuck in the breeding pan/inhuman farming conditions...but you, pretty rescued cow hybrid, isn't really good at living on your own after being rescued from a farm. You were either raised here and reached maturity in captivity - or you got captured so long ago, you don't even remember normal, human life. Konig can't just release you in the wild, you don't even have documents!! He knows it's fucked up, having a pretty cow hybrid in his house isn't so much different from the way you were treated at the farm, but...god, he just can't get his hands off you. He has a big property in the mountains so like it or not, you're turning into Austrian highland cow - and you like to roam around in the pasture while he is too busy on the firing range or at the house work. He doesn't really do nay farm work, he doesn't have time between the contracts - but he allows you to make a small garden, taking advice from a demihuman therapist that suggested you need some small activity to keep yourself occupied. Cow hybrids are generally light-headed and silly, so Konig knows he can't force you into doing harsher labor - although sometimes you like to cook and to wake him up with very loud cleaning sessions. But...of course, living with an adult, mature hybrid in your house is a tough challenge if you don't want to fuck said hybrid. Konig wants to fuck you, wanted you since the first time he had to bath you because you don't understand how the shower works and afraid of him just hosing you like people did at the farm - but he always forced himself to stop before he could actually force himself, always too awkward and nervous...even though he is obsessed with you, morals be fucked. And his morals do get fucked when you beg him to milk you. Pretty dumb thing, you don't understand that he won't help you for free - that once he is done drinking all the milk that summed up in your heavy, swollen tits, he will be forcing you on your back and make you moo as he bounces you on his cock. He doesn't enjoy quiet farm life as much as he thought he would, but he surely enjoys spending time with his newest pet...

[planetaryupscaled]

PACTUS

Male Reader x Nayeon

Tags: 17k, smut, cheating

The story is not ours; we simply alter the original story to our preferred settings.

The clean swish and smack of Nayeon’s golf club broke the air as she tee’d off, her driver swinging high over her head as she sent the smart white ball flying down the fairway of the expensive club. It was a good strike and you watched as she made the yards to the green, setting a decent marker.

She is a good golfer and it was always fun to play with her because she gave a great challenge. Another benefit standing behind watching her tee off, seeing the skirt of her golf outfit fly up as she bounced and twisted, how her perky tits jiggled when she put herself into it. Nayeon watched it land then stepped aside to offer space for you to follow.

“Oppa, your turn,” she said, smiling at you.

“No problem,” you said, stepping up. You’d been working together for years now. and you were part business partner, part friend frankly. You weren’t perhaps the typical kind of person she was friends with and she knew other companions of hers looked down a little on you, but she enjoyed your company and you’re good at golf. You had rather an over-the-top frat boy kind of reputation, someone who somewhat hadn’t grown up in ways and yet you were well off and in business with her.

Your investment was invaluable so she had no reason to change things, and whenever you were together, you’d always a bit flirtatious with one another. It had always been that way despite you knowing full well she was taken and she figured it was a harmless joke, on top of that she figured that charming you would only be a benefit to her company as she kept you sweet.

That was what she told herself, but truth was she rather enjoyed the attention you paid her even if it did mean you was staring at her ass while she swung, but lots of men did that and plenty of women too so she wasn’t too concerned. Today though things felt a bit different, somehow more intense or at risk of going further, she didn’t know why but couldn’t help but play to it.

“Ok, watch this,” you said, lining yourself up and reaffirming your grip on the handle of the club.

“I’m gonna,” she smiled, teasing you a little as she was in the lead. Her skill matched her beauty and she was as keen a competitor for you as you were for her. With a strong smack you sent the ball down the fairway, seeing it drift as it was caught by a gust of wind.

“Aishh,” you said, watching it sailing towards the rough at the side, far from where you had intended.

“Ooh another bad drive there,” she said, knowing it had possibly bought her the game.

“That wind, just completely the wrong timing,” you said, sighing as you walked back to grab your bag and prepare for the next shot.

“Sure, the wind, not that lack of skill,” she teased with a wink as she stepped past you.

“We’re not all as perfect as you Nay,” you shot back, reached out to smack her ass on the way past as she giggled. You both seemed more playful that day like there was something in the air; started out with a drink before playing which you didn’t normally do and maybe that was part of it, Nayeon feeling energetic and loose as you both headed out on the beautiful day to play some golf. The course was quiet, and you had plenty of time to enjoy yourselves, alternating between banter and strikes as you worked your way around.

“Maybe you should focus more on the game” she murmured, glancing back temptingly.

“It’s hard when the view right here is so good,” you replied.

“Learn to multitask,” she countered as you followed her down the fairway. You walked deliberately behind her to watch the short, caramel pleated skirt she had on sway side-to-side around her toned thighs, showing off her shapely legs and giving just a glimpse of her panties when it flicked up. Normally she’d wear shorts underneath for modesty reasons but she’d felt more fun and wanted to play around today so had a pair of bright pink cotton panties on instead which gave you a colorful glimpse any time she moved right.

“You’re gonna need a good shot to get back on it here,” she marveled, seeing your ball well off course now.

“Just take your shot, show me what you got,” you said, indicating her ball.

“So you can stand back and look at my ass?” she asked.

“Sure, if I’m gonna lose I may as well get something out of it,” you smiled.

“Well fine, watch my ass as I beat you,” she said with a playful roll of her eyes, selecting a club and stepping up to her ball. She took a moment to set herself up then swung an excellent shot to get it straight onto the green, bouncing firmly without too much momentum to roll in close to the pin.

“Very nice,” you commented.

“My ass, or my shot?” she joked, glancing back.

“Both, as you well know,” you replied.

“Always good to hear it,” she said, turning and stepping out the way. You went to your ball and eyed it up, knowing your shot wouldn’t be so easy as it had rolled into a bit of a dip down from the edge of the fairway, just making it that bit trickier as it rested in the rough. You took the club and set your feet, eyeing it up, imagining the perfect way to make it work. You took a breath and steadied your grip before striking it cleanly, a good hit but you’d already left yourself work to do from the first shot.

“Not bad, Oppa,” Nayeon called, seeing you get it onto the edge of the green. It would leave a long putt but was a decent recovery.

“Could have been worse.”

“Doesn’t matter anyway, I’m done here,” she smirked, stepping up with her putter. You just watched her take a strong stance, loving her legs as she firmly positioned herself, pushed her ass out and then putted neatly, sending her ball rolling tidily across the cropped grass to dip perfectly into the hole.

“Told you,” she said, grinning as she walked over to pick up her ball. You gave her a congratulatory clap as she bent over to fish it out, making sure not to crouch and instead bending at the waist to let her skirt retreat over her peachy ass and show it off in her cute pink panties for you. Nobody else was around and she wanted to have some fun, and besides it could only put you off your game.

“Yeah yeah, I know,” you said, rolling your eyes, stepping in with your own putter. Nayeon just watched on as you made your long putt, missing the hole though not by much. You let out a disappointed sigh as it came to a halt near the hole before walking over and tapping it in, nudging the pin as it dropped in, leaving you one over par.

“Damn, could be worse,” you mused, picking it up and carrying it to your clubs.

“Could be better, too,” she smiled.

“I know, I know.”

“Still behind me,” she teased, tipping her bag onto its wheels and starting for the final hole on the game.

“There’s worse places to be,” you replied, watching her go as you put the putter away, sure she was swaying her hips a bit more than usual.

“You’re about to get beaten by a girl, yet again,” she teased as you caught up to her.

“No way, I’m gonna turn this around.”

“Not a chance, Oppa,” she smiled, “it’s not your day.”

“We’ll see,” you replied.

“Yeah, we’ll see me winning is what,” she says as she stopped at the tee for the final hole.

“No way, I’ve got some magic here for the last hole, gonna be a cinematic victory,” you said determinedly.

“You haven’t been able to find the hole,” she laughed, knowing the two shot lead she held would be plenty to win it on the final par three.

“I’ve got this,” you boasted, your confidence irritating her.

“Well you know what, why don’t you put your money where your mouth is,” she said, a slight snap to her voice.

“How so?”

“A bet, if you can pull back and win this game,” she said.

“What do you want? What do I have that the lovely Nayeon could possibly want?” you asked.

“Your car,” she said after thinking for a moment.

“My car?”

“Your car, that black Porsche you love so much, I want it,” she said. She knew you loved that car and had spent a lot of time on it, so taking it off you would be a kick in the teeth and really take you down a peg.

“And if I win?” you asked after a measured pause to consider it, “you’re gonna streak around this course naked.”

“Naked?” she said, heart surging as she was caught a bit by surprise.

“In your birthday suit,” you said with a smirk. You’d intended it as a joke and a bit of banter more than anything and was stunned when she answered.

“Deal,” she said, holding out her hand to shake on the deal. She was so sure she’d win the bet even if you did a good job on the final hole that it wouldn’t matter and she’d never have to pay her end. She was gonna walk away from this with your Porsche.

“Then let’s go,” you said, offering her the tee.

“Thanks,” she said, finding her driver and stepping up.

“Tell me, Oppa, how many girls you fucked on the back seat of that Porsche?”

“A few, why? You wanna be one of us?” you replied.

“Maybe, but I’ll do that when it’s my car. I’ll get it all cleaned first,” she said, blowing you a somewhat venomous kiss as she lined up her drive.

“We’ll see,” you said, watching her take position. You were quiet as she took her shot, putting her off never an option as you both wanted a clean fight despite the ribbing. She swung strongly, smacking her ball down the fairway nicely on target though it pulled a little to the left and ended up near the green but with a slightly longer shot than she was hoping for. With her skill however she had little concern of making par.

“Good start,” you said, watching her walking back to you.

“Good enough. Kiss your Porsche goodbye,” she smiled.

“It ain’t over till it’s over,” you replied, swapping with her to take the tee. Nayeon stood back and watched you set up, taking a few more seconds than normal as you scouted out the pin in the bright sunshine, watching the trees swaying with the breeze. You stood up, straightened your back and took position, hands settling on the club before you pulled back for the strike. Your club swung high over your head and then swept back down in a perfect arc to hit the ball cleanly and send it arcing into the air.

The tee snapped cleanly and flew down the grass a few feet as Nayeon watched it soar into the air, knowing immediately it was a good drive and so did you, staring in joy at the quality strike. You both followed it intently, watching it land onto the green with a bounce, then another, rolling perfectly on track for the pin.

“No, no!” Nayeon almost shouted as her heart rate raced, seeing what was about to happen.

“Yeaah, come on, come on!” You shouted with ascending volume, willing the ball to make it. Both of you stared for a final second as it trailed to a near stop—then dropped into the hole.

“Oh come on!” Nayeon shouted in anguish as you leapt into the air, whooping in joy and knowing you’d made a huge step forward.

“How’s that for a cinematic finish?” you said, grinning broadly. You grabbed the bag and pushed the driver back in, hoisting it onto your shoulder so you could get to the green and admire your incredible shot in person.

“You haven’t won anything yet,” she countered miserably, feeling the pressure immediately and knowing she had to stay cool. She had to finish on par to end the game on a tie, meaning neither of you got the prize.

“Heat’s on, Nay” you smiled, heading down the course ahead of her as she wheeled her bag behind you. You took a moment to lift the ball from the cup and hold it up for her.

“Hole in one! You never expected that did you?” you shouted, relishing your incredible drive and fortune.

“No, but it won’t matter,” she replied, heading for her ball off to the side of the green. You walked off and tucked your ball away separately, wanting to keep it to remember your victorious moment.

“Time to shine, Nayeon,” you said, standing back to watch her lining up her next shot. She’d been under pressure before and knew she was fine, breathing calmly and taking her time to get ready. With a neat swish of the club the ball flew up over the crest of the green and rolled towards the pin, stopping around six feet away for what should be an easy putt to draw the round.

“I’ve got it,” she nodded to you, steely and cool.

“All rides on this, you gotta finish this right here,” you said, still smiling as she swapped over to her putted.

“No problem, I can do this in my sleep,” she replied, shutting you from her mind as she stepped up onto the green and focused. You didn’t disturb her, watching her legs and taking another glimpse of her panties again as the skirt fluttered in the wind, seeing how focused she was on her shot. It was the shot to tie it up and she breathed calmly and took a neat, short putt of the ball. It rolled directly towards the pin, on target, moving swiftly...a little too swiftly, as at the last moment it hooked round the rim of the hole and trickled away again.

There was silence except for the wind for a second, Nayeon’s heart pounding as she realized what it meant. She’d missed...and lost the game, and the bet along with it.

“I thought you could do that in your sleep?” you smiled. She said nothing, just staring at the ball.

“And I must be dreaming, because you’re gonna be getting naked in a minute,” you grinned.

“Shut up,” she said, hiding a blush as she stepped to the ball, “let me finish.”

You just watched as she resumed her game and lined up the easy, very short putt. It hardly mattered now, if she made it, she’d be one shot down, if she didn’t and took another, she’d be two. Either way she’d lost and that meant your Porsche would stay yours...and you’d get to see her run about naked. Nayeon easily made the short putt, the ball tricking the foot or so it needed to drop into the cup. She swiftly picked it up and headed back to her bag as you clapped for her.

“Good game, good game,” you said.

“That was close, you lucky bastard,” she replied, smiling at you. It was good fun there was no doubt.

“And you get to keep your car.”

“And I also get to see you naked,” you added immediately.

“Oh come on, we were just messing around, just a joke right,” she said, trying to play it off and diffuse you immediately before it got going.

“Not a chance, you’d have wanted the Porsche wouldn’t you?” you said.

“Yeah I want it, but I wouldn’t have actually expected it,” she said hurriedly. It wasn’t true, she knew she’d have demanded the car.

“Bullshit, a deal’s a deal,” you said.

“Come on, no way. This place is too open, what if someone sees me?” she replied.

“That’s the idea, and you took the bet.”

“How about I flash you? Come on,” she said, trying to buy you with a quick glance at her tits.

“No chance. We had a bet, and you lost,” you said, looking at her sternly.

“I know,” she replied.

“So take your clothes off,” you ordered. She dropped her putted back into her bag, turning around to look at you.

“Seriously?” she asked, hoping for a last chance to back out of the bet she’d just stupidly made.

“Yeah, seriously. Hold up your end of the bargain,” you smiled. Nayeon gave a sigh and had a quick scout round, looking for anyone else.

“Longer you wait the more chance someone else is gonna come up here,” you teased.

“Ok ok!” she snapped, irritated at losing the bet but knowing it was only her hubris to blame. She took another glance around as she grabbed her top and pulled it up over her head quickly, throwing the caramel cotton aside to expose her black sports bra that supported her perky tits nicely...but didn’t stop her nipples poking through.

“You’re the first guy to see me do this in quite a while,” she commented.

“I’m honoured,” you replied, just taking in her stunning figure and tight body, muscles toned as she quickly reached down to undo her shoes. She pulled them off with her socks and then stood back up to grab her skirt, casting another look around and undoing the zip before she let it drop round her feet to reveal the pink panties she’d been teasing you with.

“Very nice,” you smiled as she kicked the skirt aside, standing in just her underwear as you took in her slender figure, loving her round, firm ass and the sweet bulge of her pussy. Nayeon hoped it’d be enough and you’d let her get away with just seeing her in her bra and panties, feeling the fresh breeze blow around her exposed body.

“Keep going,” you said.

“Come on, this is more than you’ve ever seen,” she argued.

“That’s not the bet.”

“Screw the bet, nobody else gets to see me this way,” she said.

“The bet was naked,” you replied.

“Come on this is plenty, aren’t you pleased?” she said, jiggling herself a little as she giggled, arching her back to push her chest out.

“And you get a good look at my ass this way,” she said, turning to shake her hips at you, letting you see her lovely ass.

“Not just those little peeks up my skirt that you take,” she teased, chiding you playfully.

“I’ll get an even better look if you take those panties off,” you smiled, pointing at the hot pink cotton.

“I think it’s better when something’s covered up, more mysterious,” she teased, flicking the elastic of her panties.

“You’d best take them off so I can compare,” you offered.

“I can do something else for you, how about it?” she tried.

“I don’t want anything more than this right now,” you smiled.

“You kept your car, how about I get you something for it?”

“Unless you’re joining me on the back seat that’s not gonna top this,” you grinned.

“Pictures?”

“Nah,”

“Come on,” she tried again, “you don’t need to see me naked.”

“No, but I want to,” you smiled.

“We’re friends though,” she tried.

“And you lost a bet. You shook hands with me on the agreement that you’d streak naked around this golf course if I won the round,” you pointed out.

“And you bet me your car, bet you wouldn’t have given me it,” she protested.

“How long have we been friends? You know I’m a man of my word, I’d have given you the Porsche,” you said.

“This isn’t fair though!” she complained.

“How isn’t it? We had a deal, a straight bet, and you lost. You just got cocky,” you replied.

“And you got lucky!”

“Maybe so, but the result is the same, so pay up,” you ordered her.

“Not gonna let me out of this one, are you?” she said with a resigned smile and a sigh.

“Not a chance, so strip naked,” you said. Nayeon breathed deeply and steeled herself, knowing she was blushing as she felt the heat of her face as she reached for her sports bra.

“Quickly you’ve already wasted enough time,” you teased.

“Don’t you ever tell anyone about this,” she warned, looking at you sternly then peeling her sports bra over her head to let her perky tits bounce free.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied, eyes locked onto her gorgeous tits with their firm nipples as she stripped off and threw her bra aside with her other clothes.

“And your fans think you’re so innocent,” you teased as she pushed her hands into her panties.

“Shut up, just...enjoy,” she said quietly, unable to think of anything else as she pushed her panties down and let them drop to her feet. You watched as the thin cotton was moved and she straightened up nervously, glancing around as you took in her stunning body complete with her totally smooth, shaven pussy.

“Oh, very nice,” you said, as she blushed heavily.

“You keep your pussy shaved, that’s hot,” you said, your cock stiffening fully in your shorts as the stunning idol stripped naked in front of you

“Shut up, it’s just how I like it,” she said.

“Shave or laser?” you asked, seeing how smooth she was.

“Shave,” she replied.

“You do a good job then, damn that’s smooth,” you said as your gaze fixed on her pussy.

“Thanks,” she muttered at the sort-of compliment.

“Now get running,” you said, indicating the wide open space that was still thankfully deserted.

“What?” she blurted out, mind not keeping up, still too embarrassed.

“Come on, streak, as you bet you would,” you ordered.

“Come on, go!” you said, smacking her ass hard and spurring her into action, Nayeon running away from the green on her bare feet. Her toes pressed into the neatly cut grass, feeling the cool vegetation between her toes and under her heels as she ran down the fairway and into the rough. Her heart was pounding in her ears as she looked around for anyone else, hearing your whistles of encouragement as she ran naked around the golf course.

You watched her round ass jiggling as she ran, working with every step of her strong legs that powered her rapidly down the fairway towards the tee, hoping nobody else saw her do it. She breathed hard as she got near then turned around, heading back to you, her tits bouncing hard as she ran, her slender body on full display. She knew you were taking everything in and absorbing it all, knowing you’d jerk off at the thought of it later on as she glanced around.

She realized that she was having fun though, performing for you and taking a chance, showing herself off for you and anyone else that might catch a glimpse of her. The exhibitionism was exhilarating, freeing almost as she shed her clothes and showed off for the world and despite the fear she loved it, feeling the characteristic tingle as her pussy wettened and excitement ran through her. Turned on, she slowed a little to make it last longer, for herself as much as for you, smiling at you as she dropped to a walk on the last few feet towards you that gave you ample opportunity to take in every detail of her naked, shaved body.

“You seem to like this,” you commented, watching her walking up to you. She was dripping wet and feeling horny, just ready to go as she approached you, not caring at that moment if anyone was watching or not. It wasn’t like she had anything to be ashamed of apart from doing it in public as her body was tight and toned, in great shape and plenty of people would just be happy she was there.

“Well, it’s a good bit of fun,” she mused, smiling at you as she approached, your eyes roaming over her nude body to drink her in. It didn’t really matter now and she was proud of how she looked, getting over the embarrassment of doing it in public. A quick scan around showed nobody else and she was thankful somehow landed in this quiet time at the golf club. She realized however that you had grabbed her clothes and was holding them hostage, out of her reach neatly stacked behind you with little intention of giving them back.

“Come on, give me my clothes, I’ve gotta get dressed,” she said, pointing to them.

“No, they’re mine now,” you smiled.

“Give them to me, that’s not fair,” she complained.

“Nobody said this was fair,” you smirked.

“Please, Oppa, give me my clothes,” she said, casting another gaze around.

“I don’t want you to get dressed, I like the view how it is,” you teased.

“I bet, but I can’t stay like this, what if someone sees?” she said.

“There’s nobody around, just enjoy it,” you replied.

“Please, don’t make me beg,” she said, looking into your eyes.

“I’d quite like you to beg,” you smiled.

“What, down on my knees?” she replied.

“Absolutely, that’d do nicely,” you grinned.

“Fine,” she said, flicking her hair back and steadying herself, making as if to get down and physically beg. She lowered herself, then abruptly lunged forward, shoving with all the power of her legs to try and lurch past you and grab her clothes...or at least some of them.

“Hey!” you shouted, reaching down to grab her as she tried to slide past you, your hands grabbing round her body, one squeezing her firm breast as the other pulled into her slender waist to restrain her.

“No!” she cried playfully as she was denied her outfit, you hauling her back away from it with strength that easily overwhelmed her own. It didn’t stop her though and she kicked forward, pulling against you as you restrained her, making you lurch on your feet and stumble, dropping her in the process. Nayeon managed another quick grab for her clothes, almost getting them before she was pulled away and up by you once more, her prize slipping out of her reach as she was manhandled.

She tumbled into you and wrenched to get away but was held tightly, your arms around her as she tried to break free, then shoved off her feet again to use her powerful legs. Nayeon giggling loudly as you two fell in a scramble of limbs onto the neatly kept grounds. Nayeon fell on top of you, sitting up but you grabbed her wrists before she could escape, basically riding you as she knelt on top of you.

“Oppa, stop,” she playfully chided, “I have to get dressed.”

“No deal,” you smiled, all of these flirtatious frustrations coming to a head as you wrestled. You pushed her back and Nayeon sat on your cock, feeling your rock hard dick pressing up through your shorts and straight into her slick, engorged pussy. She gasped as its shape easily split her puffy, shaven lips and her clit brushed over it, making her body surge in delight for a millisecond before she lifted up again, not letting you to see it.

“Well I’ll have to break free!” she whispered huskily, yanking her hands off yours and reaching forward but your arms locked round her back, exactly as she’d expected, to keep her in place on top of you. Your hand grabbed her tit and took a shameless grope of them as your arm stayed round her back to hold her down, easily over powering her as she struggled to break free. You squeezed hard enough to make her grunt, then pulled your fingers back off her hard nipple, making her tingle.

It only helped to accentuate the wetness of her pussy, hand trailing down to push into her hips and draw her back down, switching hands to grab a good feel of her ass next and sample the result of her all her workouts. Your hand pulled her ass open, revealing her puffy pussy, just wet and ready though she didn’t want to admit it, renewing her struggles as she got a foot under herself and pushed up again to change it up.

“No you don’t,” you smiled as she almost pushed away, hauled back down by a strong grip on her hips, being greeted by several hard, stinging spanks to her ass that made her cry out in pain as they spread through her. Your fingers shoved between her thighs as she struggled to break away, Nayeon’s hands pushing at your wrists to try and break the grip before her movements shoved your fingertips over the back of her slick lips, coating you in her hot, slick juices and making her quiver.

“Fuck, you love this,” you smiled, cock hardening even more if that were possible.

“Shut up, no,” she hissed, looking up to hide her blush as you hauled her down on top of your cock again and your hand reached up to grab her tits again, squeezing tight at one then the other as you took advantage of your position. She might be on top but had no way to get away, grunting and groaning as you gripped at her, more spanks landing on her ass.

She took advantage of an opening however when you let your guard down, too busy feeling her up when she suddenly jolted away, breaking your grip in that moment and lurching forward towards her clothes. Unfortunately, she broke free but lost her footing, toes slipping on the grass and making her stumble, leaving her vulnerable which let you grab her ankle and hold her back.

Nayeon whined in disappointment as she was pulled back, you surging up and yanking her down as she kicked and fought you playfully, rolling around on the grass as you struggled to control her. You hauled her down on her side, your arm over her shoulders as your leg hooked over hers, leaving your hand free, which soon connected with her as you smacked her tits. She gasped hard as you did, not having had her tits slapped in years, the sharp sensation shocking her into stillness and almost surrender for a second.

Her perky tits bounced and shook as you rolled her onto her back more and slapped her chest, Nayeon giving hard, rasping breaths as her breasts shook, your hands raining blows onto them to make her sting. She was sure there would be red marks and tried to get away again, finding her strength and kicking out, digging her toes into the grass and shoving forward to break your hold on her. She wriggled out of your grasp somewhat but you had hold of her intently, restricting the struggling idol easily with significantly more strength than her.

She succeeded in getting your grasp somewhat off her but you went with her and pulled her back, Nayeon fumbling onto her front now with you behind her. Your hand smacked her ass again and grabbed it for a hard grope, making her grunt then shudder as your fingers played along her slick, waiting entrance again to give away how hot she was. She loved being dominated and taken, she always had, so now it was just tingling her entire body with excitement.

You pinned her down and rolled on top of her, Nayeon totally helpless as you held her wrist down and stopped her legs with your feet. She pushed up and tried to escape, her strong thighs pushing her ass up, but all that did was give you more access to her. You couldn’t wait any longer, not wanting to miss out on your chance with her, so you reached down to yank your shorts out of the way and free your hard cock.

You aimed your cock towards her opening, though unintended, prone bone position you thrust yourself forward and buried your cock inside her easily in a single stroke for your second hole in one of the day. Nayeon’s pussy split easily around your swollen head and her body welcomed you inside her as you effortlessly drove your cock deep and pinned her down to the grass as you’d always wanted. Like so many men you’d wanted to fuck her for years and finally had the chance, groaning in pleasure as her silky smooth vagina swallowed your cock.

Nayeon’s eyes popped open wide and she moaned loudly as you slid inside her, her soaked pussy just waiting for your penetration, body shuddering as her nerves lit up and made her tremble. You forced your hips down to get your cock as deep as possible inside her, Nayeon responded by pushing her ass up for you, assisting in getting it as far inside as she could while you both grunted with heavy breaths.

“Oh fuck, Oppa...” she managed, overwhelmed as you started fucking her, slowly at first, hands moving down to pin hers to the grass. She interlocked her fingers with yours as you built up speed, thrusting busily onto her hot love tunnel, loving how intensely her cunt hugged your cock, how hot she was around you, her slick velvet walls an absolute pleasure. Nayeon groaned heavily in pleasure, so turned on and hot as you penetrated her, the first new man to do so in years and your cock felt heavenly.

All of your sexual tension was released as you fucked, and that was what it was; not making love or some sweet affair, you both were fucking, pinned down on the grass in the open at a semi public place no less but those thoughts didn’t cross your mind as you started to work your hips harder, cock deep inside her, shoving right into her as her body easily took it and let you get full depth inside her as she moaned.

“Fuck, don’t hold back,” she gasped, wanting all of you in a fast, aggressive fuck that she was sure would satisfy you both. Her rasping grunts became louder and more intense, letting out her sensations vocally as you fucked her, pushing her ass up as you slammed your hips into her, squashing perfectly into her firm, round booty to bury everything you had inside the groaning idol. She squeezed and jolted as you penetrated her, only encouraging you to stay deeper as your cock brushed her G-spot.

She cried in pleasure to the open air as you pounded down into her, pace picking up faster, strokes short and intense as you took your chance and just let out your long restrained lust for her. Your cock pulsed rock hard inside her, the hardest cock Nayeon had felt in a long time as you pumped down against her most sensitive area, her slick, sweet pussy letting you slide in deep again and again as your hips reciprocated above her. Her knees dug into the grass to hold her ass up for you, legs wide as her arms stretched out in front of her.

Pinned down under your fucking and with no intention of stopping it, Nayeon cried out her pleasure, getting rather loud much to your surprise. She was a screamer, something you somehow never expected of her but you loved it, loved how much she was enjoying your fuck and it spurred you to go faster and harder. You had to hold yourself back but pumped her hard, wanting to make her come all over your cock. Your hand pulled from hers and you grabbed her long hair, twisting it in your fingers before yanking it hard to make her scream.

“Fuck! Oh fuck me!” she screamed, even making you look around to check that you didn’t have an audience as your hips slammed into her. Her face was screwed up in sheer pleasure as she cried and screamed out her ecstasy to the world, pain of her hair being pulled mixing with the ecstatic sensations spreading from her G-spot, your cock so perfect inside her as it stroked every nerve ending and built her up. You tugged at her a few more times then abruptly shoved her head down, Nayeon gasping as she was cumming.

“Fucking slut,” you murmured, making her tingle as she loved you calling her that, knowing she was being exactly that as she being fucked by you. Your hands hooked under her hips and you pulled her back, up into a doggy style position somewhat though she was still laid on the grass, arms out in submission until you finished with her. You leaned back and smacked her ass, making her cry out loudly again, followed by another and another as you spanked her thoroughly.

You loved watching her take it, Nayeon gasping and crying out as you smacked her ass through grunts of pleasure, continuing to fuck her hard. You had her hip held tightly and pulled her back, giving her no way break away not that she was trying anyway. You gave a squeeze of her booty then your fingers played between her cheeks, making her shiver as a naughty tingle spread through her body. Her breath caught a moment as she felt a fingertip pressed at her asshole, knocking on her back door seemingly as you teased her for a moment.

She gasped loudly as it suddenly entered her, sliding deeply into her to surprise her, another sensation to mix in with the hard fucking you were giving her and the pain that still tingled her body. You probed her deeply and stretched her ass a little, making her moan at the illicit sensation while your cock still buried inside her, feeling her pussy clench tighter around you, gripping your shaft hard and helping your surge and pulse more intently.

You held your finger up her ass for a moment as you fucked her, jamming your cock inside her over and over again to make her scream again. She was just completely lost the pleasure of it all, her orgasm cranking up before she gasped as you pulled your finger out, the speed jolting her before you grabbed her hips tightly and pushed up over her. You knew what she needed and slammed down hard, pushing your cock deep and keeping it there as your hips let loose a flurry of thrusts.

“Oh fuck, fuck, I’m...” she whined, your bulging head slamming into her G-spot repeatedly with a rush of intense strokes that were the final steps to heaven for the idol. She screamed with every one until she rolled her eyes in a silent expression of ecstasy and came hard, eyes clenching shut as she shuddered intensely and inhaled deeply. Her next breath was a long, loud scream of pleasure as she shook hard, legs trying to kick out, fingernails twisting into the grass as you rode her ass all the way through.

“Yeah that’s it, come on,” you groaned, smiling down at her climax, loving making her orgasm as you pounded on her hard. Her grass stained knees dug into the green as she shoved against you, her pussy squeezing intently, so tight around you as you continued to drill into her hottest depths. It was more than enough to trigger you, the sensations of her body and the sheer mental stimulation of it all overwhelming as you held out.

You fucked her hard as her orgasm faded out, ignoring her feeble pulls to get away from the intensity and hands that tried to stop you, riding her hard for several more seconds to pound your aching cock deep inside the idol you’d wanted for so long. A final burst of energy from you saw her chokingly grunt at the intensity as you suddenly pulled out, making her inhale sharply as her pussy was empty and gaping wide, completely at your mercy though as you hopped off her and shoved her over in the process, tumbling over onto her back.

Before she even knew what was happening your hand grabbed her hair and yanked her head down hard, holding her in place as you aggressively stroked your cock, managing a few slippery jerks before you aimed it at her face and exploded with a long, guttural groan of ecstasy. Nayeon managed to shut her eyes just in time for the hot load to strike her face, gasping hard as the hot come landed across her pretty face.

It was abundant and intense, your orgasm strong and sending your cum bursting out in hard, fast jets that you aimed straight across her, the first across her cheek, nose and forehead before a second hit her eyelid and trailed into the front of her hair. She gasped in surprise and shock as you emptied your balls on her with many more shots hitting her cheeks, lips and chin before you leaned forward and shoved your bulbous tip into her mouth for her to suck the last of it from you.

She did as you wanted, sucking firmly and tasting your salty cum as it spread across her tongue, feeling the last twitches before your hand softened in her long hair and you gave a final strain before dropping aside, sitting down on the green beside her as you let her go.

“Fuck...” you groaned, resting back on your hands as you breathed deep, your heart racing from the exertion.

“Yeah...” she agreed breathlessly, feeling her chest thumping, splayed out naked in the warm sunshine on the golf course, completely exposed with a thick load of come drying on her face. you could do nothing but recover for a minute, both of you breathing deeply, hard breathing combining with the breeze and pulse in your ears before she felt very self conscious, pushing up on her elbows and opening her one free eye.

“I’ve got some tissues in my bag there, grab them,” she ordered, pointing back towards it as you looked over. You quickly moved, knowing you needed to get decent, pulling your shorts back over your still semi-hard cock as you fumbled with her bag and patted down the pockets. Luckily they were easy to find and you pulled them out, quickly putting them in Nayeon’s outstretched hand where she got to work. She yanked one out and pressed it to her face, absorbing your load and wiping it carefully from her eye.

“Get my clothes,” she ordered, glancing round in case someone had seen. There was nobody but she could swear she heard voices on the breeze. Maybe it was just paranoia seizing her in the wake of her orgasm but she wasn’t taking any chances, hurriedly grabbing another tissue and wiping her face, trying to methodically cover her skin from her forehead down to her chin as she rolled her lips to swallow any remaining load on her lips. The salty taste was of little concern as she threw the tissue aside, satisfied she was clean enough, grabbing her top.

You stood carefully keeping look out and leaving her to get it done, knowing you better not interfere at that moment as she shook the top out and hauled it over her head, foregoing her bra and simply covering herself up. She pulled it down then grabbed her skirt, flicking it over her bare feet and yanking it over her grass stained knees, cringing a little as she knew how that would look to anyone that saw her. She stood up fast, giving the course a last flash before she pulled it over her smooth, pristine pussy to gather it round her hips and fumble for the zipper.

She yanked it up breathed a sigh of relief that she was decent, flicking her panties out and reaching down to step into them. Nayeon was glad you hadn’t given her a cream pie for a multitude of reasons but right now primarily so it didn’t leak thickly into her pink panties, pulling them up determinedly to conceal herself. She grabbed the bra along with the tissues and stepped quickly to her bag, reaching down to snatch the socks from her trainers, bundling them all together and shoving them into a pocket of her bag.

“Did you hear someone?” you said, voices on the breeze again.

“Maybe,” she mumbled, knowing it wasn’t such a big deal now but the thing to do was focus on getting dressed so you both could make a hasty exit. She wasn’t sure sticking around was the best idea even if you had gotten away with it so she sat down hard on the grass, grabbing her shoes and shoving her feet into them. She managed to deftly tie them, not getting into a tangle as she rapidly secured them then stood up, zipping her back shut and checking nothing was left on the grass, or her face as she swiftly checked for anything she missed.

“Fuck that was close,” you said quietly as you saw someone just about come into view, the voices having been real. They’d just about got away with it as Nayeon tipped her bag onto the wheels, ready to leave.

“Yeah, let’s get outta here,” she said, nodding back towards the clubhouse.

“Got it,” you said, hefting your bag and walking with her, next to her this time as you both headed to the exit as if nothing had happened, the players behind were unconcerned, except for some strange noises and screams you thought you heard on the bright Seoul day.

Nayeon trailed you back into the clubhouse, dropping behind you as sanity returned and she felt very self-conscious about what you’d just done. She knew she shouldn’t have done it, should have made that stupid bet and even so much as entertained it given, she knew how you felt about her. Sure you were friends but she should have realized you’d have gone for anything like that.

“Nayeon, you alright?” you asked, stopping in the car park and putting your bag down.

“Yeah, I’m good,” she said, even as her mind raced.

“Look, that was...” you started but she quieted you immediately.

“Nothing, that was nothing and never happened,” she said firmly.

“Nothing? You didn’t like it?” you asked, a little surprised.

“Be smart, you know full well I did,” she admitted, her huge orgasm giving that away as clear as day.

“But I’m taken, and this never happened, got it?” she said.

“Got it,” you smiled, giving her a wink.

“Good game though, great finish, you really took me, I mean it on that last hole,” she said, cursing her stutter over the words.

“Yeah a great game, really tight at the end there,” you smiled.

“Another one soon?” she offered. She genuinely meant golf, though she was sure you might infer something more.

“Absolutely, we’ll make arrangements,” you said, giving her a brief hug.

“I gotta get going now, business to attend to,” she said.

“Got you, until next time,” you said, picking up your bag and heading for your car, the black Porsche sitting there in the parking lot like a taunt to what she’d been blinded by...and lost.

“See ya,” she murmured, turning to pull her bag to her SUV. She hauled it into the trunk and slammed it down, getting into the drivers seat and sagging back against the leather, hearing the rumble as your drove past.

She was embarrassed, she internally hated herself somewhat for what had transpired but fuck...she’d loved it, and she couldn’t wait till the next game.

One month later—the next game.

Nayeon walked along to the next tee, scuffing her toes in the grass on the beautiful day, the sun beating down on her. And you were following along behind her, hauling your bag while checking her ass out. You both never spoken explicitly of your little adventure on the golf course a few weeks before where you’d fucked her hard on the final green in full view of anyone that might have been watching, but things had changed.

The flirting and playfulness had become very direct and overt since things had boiled over and her misguided bet had landed her in hot water. Both acted on attraction to one another, well...she’d finally given in and slipped up, letting herself get carried away and it had gotten way out of hand, but she’d absolutely loved it. As a result you both were freed from those chains, that barrier no longer existed between you and your private interactions had become so much more intent and explicit.

Flirting was out of control, when you were alone of course. She was absolutely never behaving that way if anyone else was around to see it and she knew she shouldn’t be doing it but that only made it hotter. Getting fucked by you in such a primal, passionate fashion had unleashed her and she was being so playful and dirty with you. On one hand she would die of shame if it came out, her relationship would be shattered. but on the other she was lustfully falling for you and couldn’t resist the thrill.

You both arrived at the next hole and set your bags up, Nayeon sliding her driver out and giving a stretch as you placed the ball down and paused to look at your phone.

“Come on, some of us are waiting to play,” she scolded playfully.

“Patient, we’ve got nothing but time,” you replied, and it was true since it was a quiet day on the course and nobody was immediately behind.

“What’s so important that you have to interrupt our game huh? Am I not enough for you?” she teased, walking over to you. As she peered over your shoulder to the screen, she saw a notification for a voice message come up from a woman who you had saved with a gratuitous picture of her stretched holes, her own hands clearly spreading her legs for it. It made Nayeon pause, shocked by the depravity of it, thinking it rather misogynistic that you displayed her in such a fashion as a fuck toy...but equally she found it hot, the kinky factor of giving her a thrill.

“Aish, you fucking perv,” she snorted, turning back to the game and stepping away.

“What’s your problem? This is how I save all my fuck buddies and they love it,” you said with a grin. Nayeon just rolled her eyes.

“I should save you like this too, technically you deserve the same treatment, the roll of honor,” you added.

“Fuck you, no way I’d do that,” she retorted. Stepping back but not entirely, she listened as you turned away and went to your voicemail, playing it with the loud speaker on rather than pressing it to your ear. She was sure it was to let her hear it, and she tried to pretend that she didn’t care even as she leaned a little closer to make sure she picked up every word lest the wind blow it away.

“Hey Oppa,” the message started, a girl giving a sexy, girly tone to her voice, hamming it up in a way that made Nayeon roll her eyes again.

“I really loved that dinner we had, that was a great place,” she continued, Nayeon listening in as whoever it was enthused about the date I’d been out on, innocent enough at first but it devolved very quickly.

“And when we went home...oh my God, I’ve never cum like that before,” she said as Nayeon’s ears pricked up.

“That anal orgasm you gave me, fuck, that was so hot!” she rambled on, making Nayeon blush as she heard it. You looked around at her, caught her little gasp and knew she was listening, grinning as you watched her retreat back.

“Oh very interested now I see,” you teased her, hanging up the phone as the other girl rambled about how you should see each other again, clearly trying not to beg for your attention in the process.

“Wanna hear all about how I fucked some other girl in the ass so hard she came, huh?”

“That’s bullshit,” Nayeon shot back, spinning on her heel to face you, “she’s lying. Girls don’t come from anal.”

“Really?” you asked with a smile, loving her reaction.

“No, women can’t come from straight anal without some kind of vaginal stimulation, rubbing the clit or something,” she said.

“How do you know what went on?” you smiled.

“So you did rub her clit?” Nayeon asked quickly, scolding herself for seeming so eager, like she’d just won or something.

“Nope, all anal, that’s all I did to make her scream,” you grinned, loving how the idol was so invested in it.

“Bullshit,” she said again, more forcefully this time.

“Just because you’ve never come from anal doesn’t mean other women can’t, you just need to get fucked by the right guy,” you shot back.

“I don’t even like anal,” she snapped.

“Just haven’t had the right guy to fuck your ass, that’s all,” you said smugly.

“Fuck off, what is it with guys and anal sex? Why do you always wanna fuck a girl in the ass so much?” she replied fiercely.

“When women have great asses like yours, guys want to fuck it,” you said with a shrug.

“This chick, has she got an ass like mine?”

“No, better.”

“Bullshit, bet she doesn’t,” she bit back, immediately defensive that you would dare another woman had something she didn’t when she knew you’d lusted for her for years.

“Truth hurts, doesn’t it?” you smiled, loving egging her on.

“No, because I know it’s lies,” she said, turning and shaking her ass at you to make her point.

“Keep telling yourself that. You’re the one missing out if you don’t give anal a proper try.”

“That’s what all the boys say,” she smiled, rolling her eyes.

“Your loss.”

“No way you’d make me come, or anyone else for that matter, if you fucked my ass. It’s all empty promises,” she retorted.

“You think so little of me?” you laughed.

“Frankly, yes, since you ask,” she replied with a smile.

“Bet your ass it’s possible,” you muttered quietly, but in the quiet kind of way that let her hear everything you said.

“Alright, fine! Let’s bet,” she demanded, making you immediately turn back to her.

“You wanna bet?”

“Yeah, let’s settle this, since you’re so fucking sure of yourself.”

“Ok, what are you proposing?” you asked.

“We fuck, and you only get to fuck my ass, nothing else. You don’t get to touch my pussy and no rubbing my clit,” she said.

“What’s the catch?”

“If you can’t make me come by fucking my ass, or if you come before I do, then I get that sweet Porsche of yours after all,” she finished.

“And if I win?”

“If you win, which you won’t, then you can take all the slutty pictures of me that you want.”

“Anything?” you confirmed.

“If you can make me come through anal alone, then yes, anything you like,” she said.

“Deal,” you said, extending your hand to her. Nayeon hesitated briefly before going for it, shaking hands firmly with you to secure the bet.

“Get your stuff,” you said, quickly turning to pack yourself.

“What? We’re not finishing our round?”

“Nope. I’m gonna collect on this bet,” you smiled back at her.

“Right now?”

“Yeah, right now,” you said. Nayeon glanced at her watch, knowing she had hours free for you and that it was as good a time as any.

“Ok then, show me what you’ve got, tough guy,” she teased with a little flick of her eyebrows, spinning her driver over in her hands to slide it back into her bag. You turned and headed back to the clubhouse, again behind Nayeon as you checked out her ass, the one you would shortly split in two.

“You coming in?” you asked as you shoved the golf bag into the trunk and shut it, closing the perfectly styled fastback of the black coupe.

“No, I’ll follow in mine,” she said, passing you and heading to her own SUV, huge and hulking in comparison to yours.

“Suit yourself, follow me,” you said, opening the door and sliding into your bucket seat as Nayeon opened her own trunk to load her bags. You didn’t even offer to help. you waited as she sorted herself out and got into the vehicle, signaling she was ready to go and waving you out of the parking lot. You started up the Porsche with a rumble, the throaty sound breaking the beautiful afternoon before slotting it in gear and pulling out.

Nayeon waited a moment and followed, keeping a little distance behind as you led the way. She’d put herself in your control and left it up to you to lead her, in more ways than one. She’d challenged you because she wanted to win, not because she particularly wanted your car as she could easily buy one herself, but because she still felt raw from the jammy way you’d beaten her the first time around with your incredibly lucky hole in one. You’d got more than one hole in the process too.

Nayeon followed your Porsche through the streets away from the golf course and out of town a way, away from the bustle of the city to a more quiet, run down area. Nayeon grimaced as you turned into a small, seedy looking motel where she was sure plenty of tricks got turned when the sun set. You parked up and got out, heading into the office as Nayeon pulled in beside you, choosing to stay in the car and wait until you told her what was going on. There was nobody else around save for a cleaning cart outside one of the rooms, suggesting a maid was making some effort with the place.

you strode back out a couple of minutes later, key in hand for a room paid in cash. The owner knew exactly what you wanted it for, though he had no idea with who, assuming it was another guy stepping out on his wife or vice-versa, having no stake and even less interest in the morals of it either way.

“Come on,” you called Nayeon, the gorgeous idol skulking down behind the steering wheel in her big sunglasses, waiting just a moment longer for you to get to the motel room and start unlocking the door before she hopped out and hurried over, hoping nobody saw her. She flicked the locking on her SUV as she got to the door, you opening it wide to usher her in before you stepped in with her and closed it tightly.

Nayeon looked around at the less than stellar abode; it was just about clean but little more, old and outdated with dodgy looking repairs to the walls and a carpet that looked well past its retirement date. you however were busy yanking the curtains around to block the window and anyone looking in as she took it in, dropping her bag aside on the small table it had.

“Charming place Oppa, couldn’t think of anything better?” she commented.

“You don’t deserve anything better,” you said firmly, immediately grabbing her from behind and pulling her close, your hands cupping her firm breasts neatly with a good squeeze. She gasped and shivered as you kissed at the side of her neck, Nayeon wilting in your arms as your teeth teased at her skin, threatening to leave telltale marks.

“You’re my nasty girl, Nayeon, and you’re gonna get your ass fucked, so who gives a fuck about the room,” you breathed, hands grabbing the bottom of her shirt to pull it over her head where she obliged and put her arms up so you could strip her. Her hair tangled and yanked a little as you aggressively wrenched her top over her head and threw it to the floor, hands immediately squeezing her tits through her bra, harder than she’d normally like but she couldn’t help but love it and the rough, unrelenting way you touched her.

“Fuck, take it easy,” she breathed, even though it was a lie. You saw straight through her of course, knowing she didn’t really want you to be gentle with her.

“I’ll do what I fucking want and you’ll love it,” you hissed over her shoulder, making her tremble, so slender and petite in your arms as you dominated her. Your hands slid down and pushed her shorts down, sending the smaller than necessary garment to her feet. She’d worn them for you, to give you a good look at her ass, playing up to your interest in her and it had helped lead to this moment. Well, her attitude and refusal to back down had, actively inciting the conversation really after she’d nosed on your business due to some jealousy.

You exposed her simple but sexy black thong, hardly ideal attire to play golf but you both knew why she’d chosen it. Your fingers slid into the waistband and pulled it up a bit tighter for a moment, toying with it before you shoved it down and sent it sliding down her smooth legs to join the shorts. Nayeon obediently stepped out and kicked them aside, panties flicking up from her toes onto the bed as you ran your hands down the curves of her waist and over her hips to grope her ass. Her firm booty, your prize, that you would imminently split in two with your cock.

She was nervous, the trepidation of anal sex gnawing at her a little but she couldn’t wait for you to do it, to make her take it and try to make her come. Confident that she wouldn’t and that she’d soon be driving your pretty Porsche home only made her give in. She figured if you were going to prove your point then it was only fair you got to run things, to fuck her your way and enjoy yourself in mission to make her do the same. She comforted herself that it was just playtime, it was fun for both of you until she inevitably flaunted your Porsche the next time you played golf.

“Oh no, no,” Nayeon chided softly, shivering as you reached round and ran your fingers over her smooth pussy, taking in the perfectly shaven lips and letting your middle fingertip just run down her slit. She shuddered at how expertly you split her puffy labia just a little so it brushed over her clit, stimulating her ever so lightly through the hood and making her tremble. But it wasn’t part of the deal.

“That’s off limits,” she said, pulling forward in your grip a little and reaching down to reluctantly stop your hand stroking at her soft, enticing pussy. She knew you could feel that she was already wet.

“I thought I got to do this my way.”

“To fuck my ass, yeah,” she said bluntly, blushing a little as she just blurted it out, “and that’s all. You don’t get to rub my clit first.”

“Suit yourself,” you said, then turned her to push her down on the bed, straight onto all fours in front. Nayeon playfully posed for you, sinking her back and letting her knees slide wider to show herself off. It showed off her smooth, bulging pussy perfectly but more importantly let you see her tight, forbidden asshole where even an hour before she’d never have let you consider squeezing your cock in.

“Perfect,” you smiled as you shed your clothes, stripping yourself as quickly as you’d done her, though she still had her Converse shoes on as she knelt on the low quality bed. She was sure she might be adding some more dents to it imminently and there would be no opportunity to sleep, so it hardly mattered what state it was in.

“Show me what you’re made of, tough guy,” Nayeon murmured, glancing back over her shoulder at you. Her gasp was immediate and sudden as you dived down and pressed your tongue against her asshole, grabbing her hips to hold her in place as you licked over her tightest, naughtiest hole. She choked in surprise and illicit sensation, the feeling like nothing else as you attacked her with power and precision from the off and gave her no chance to ease into it.

She’d never had it before and it completely caught her off guard, just thrown straight into it and she could tell you wasn’t going to let her take it easy, not give her a break or gradually get started. No, you were going to throw it all at her hard and fast, run things your way and keep her on her toes to make her sensations tingle and tremble in every possible direction to overwhelm her. All she could comprehend was the shock of it as your tongue got to work lashing and circling her most forbidden hole.

Her gasps became heavier, groans breaking through as she relished the new and unique sensation of your tongue devouring her asshole, tingling as it almost felt too much to handle. Your fingers dug into her soft skin and pulled her back dominantly, restraining her on the bed as you buried your tongue into her. Her shock turned to willing pleasure, letting her legs slide a little wider, arching her back to push back into you and feel more of your sensual touch over nerve endings she’d never explored.

It started to feel good, really good as the excitement of how new and naughty it was overtook her and she moaned helplessly with pleasure. A tingle ran through her whole body, hands tightening in the cheap sheets as she shivered, body trembling, a stuttering groan escaping her mouth that only told you she loved it. Her clit tingled, hoping you’d swoop down and run your tongue over it even though she’d forbidden it. Instead, you spread her ass wider with your thumbs to expose her more and let you press your lips completely against her, shoving your tongue properly into her now, feeling her sphincter instinctively squeeze and then relax to let you inside her, Nayeon moaning gutturally as you shoved it in.

Nayeon moan whorishly, letting out every expression of pleasure as you buried your tongue inside her, her asshole giving way without a fight as she arched her back and shoved into you, only wanting more of it. You barely needed to hold her as you ferociously eat her ass, thrusting and pumping your tongue inside her, feeling her squeeze tightly as you invaded her most private space. The pretty idol just gasped hungrily, desperately wanting more of your illicit touch as you tongued her asshole, a new and utterly unique sensation that she’d just discovered.

It crossed her mind that things were already not going her way as she was immensely aroused, pussy soaked already with trembles running through her as she knelt completely at your mercy. She’d promised herself she would surrender to you since it was your job to make her come—that was her excuse at least. She just wanted to give herself up to you and get fucked again frankly, she needed it, and the premise of the bet had been straight forward enough though she wouldn’t have necessarily have chosen anal sex.

And then she was abruptly interrupted as you pulled away from her, leaving her ready as she gasped in shock and looked back at you. you pulled some lube from your clothes on the floor and turned back to her, Nayeon’s eyes locking onto your thick, throbbing erection as you uncapped it. She wasn’t sure where you got it from, it didn’t really matter as you squeezed it out and rubbed it over your hard cock, slicking the bulging head as you stepped up behind her. She inhaled as you slicked her tight ring with the thick, silky jelly and then wasted no time in getting straight to it.

Nayeon breathed deeply to calm her racing heart rate, the excitement and nerves rushing up on her, sending adrenaline through her as you reached down and grabbed a rough handful of her long hair. She felt thoroughly controlled as you twisted your grip on her enough to make her wince and pushed your straining cock to her tight, waiting asshole, not being overly gentle with her as you teasingly thrust against her and felt how she resisted, just feeling her out. You held her dominantly in place as you worked against her and eased her open, the thick lube helping ease into her already tongue teased asshole.

Your pace was steady but inexorable, not giving her a chance to resist or pull away, holding her back as you squeezed your cock inside her. It was tight but she gave away, feeling herself stretch naughtily over its invader, using just enough pressure to drive your thick cock inside her without going too fast. She still winced and let out a sharp breath as you popped inside her with a distinctly tight snap, her ring of muscle stretching over your bulging tip as her body finally gave up and let you in.

Her grunt only turned you on more and you grinned to yourself as your cock flexed at the pleasure of her tight asshole, her body gripping your cock as you sunk inside her. You didn’t let it bother you however and started pumping into her steadily, holding her hair still as your other hand slid to her curvy hip to hold her in place and resist her attempts to pull away. She didn’t mean to but it was uncomfortable, struggling with the sharp pain where her sphincter had given way at the last moment.

“Like that, Nayeon?” you teased, “just another one of my little sluts.”

Nayeon seethed a little at that, being just another one of your women with your cock up her ass but she didn’t say a word. She’d literally invited it and had to take it, to let you work your supposed magic on her and bring her to climax like you promised you could.

“The famous idol is on her knees, taking it in the ass like a slut,” you continued, seeing her twitch as she held her temper back, refusing to engage as you started thrusting yourself deeper inside her, making her tightest hole take more of your cock.

“Knew you’d love this,” you added, smiling as you shoved yourself into her firmly, but carefully. Your pace was calm and measured, taking your time with her and letting her ass handle your cock whilst pushing her a little, just finding the right balance with her. Your thrusts were controlled and purposeful, working deeper inside her with your thick prick in longer strokes until her pain faded. Pleasure melted into it all as she felt the full, satisfying sensations of anal sex, nerve endings stroked for the first time by your cock as you pumped her deeper, working all its way inside her until your hips pressed to her toned ass.

“Oh fuck...” Nayeon muttered as she shuddered, the unique sensation of you bottoming out making her quake quite intently. you knew you had her, broken in and able to take it and so started picking up your pace a little. Your pumps got harder and more intent, making sure to go full depth every time so she took all of it and had every nerve ending tingled in the process. She gasped in pleasure, her heart racing as she immediately blushed, barely able to believe she was enjoying it.

Anal sex had always been a painful and undignified experience for her, with guys shoving in far too hard and fast for her to handle, but you had taken your time and warmed her up just perfectly ready for you. As a result, your cock had popped neatly inside her and slid deep with little problem, easing her past the discomfort as you took your time and was now starting to make her tingle in all the right ways.

Her breaths became harder, more intense, more involved as you pumped your thick cock into her, Nayeon thinking about how lewdly stretched her asshole was, how hot it was that it was wrapped rightly around your cock as you pumped into her, flexing all the areas of her that’d never been touched. Your hands still pulled at her, fingers pressing into her soft skin as you readjusted your grip on her hair, keeping her tugged back and dominated, under your full control. She wasn’t going to fight, it was your show and besides, the cascade of building sensations within her as you fucked her ass were overwhelming her.

Her legs twitched, feet kicking as she dug her toes into the bed, twisting the cheap sheets as she arched her back and tried to push back more. Her encouragement made you smile, loving how Nayeon was getting into it, knowing you was pushing her buttons just right and building towards something completely new for her. You held her tightly, your prize the famous idol, down on all fours to fuck like every other girl you enjoyed and absolutely loving it as you picked up the pace to thump on her with harder, shorter strokes that buried as deep as possible.

“Fucking love this, don’t you?” you asked, rhetorically really as Nayeon only moaned a response, shivering and rolling her hips on you, changing the pleasurable feeling of your cock. She never imagined she’d be able to enjoy anal sex, figuring your Porsche was hers the moment she made the bet, but right then she wasn’t so sure. It certainly felt great and there was a deep, building sensation that was gaining momentum within her. She wasn’t entirely sure it was an orgasm, or going to lead to one, but it was certainly nice...and different.

“if only your fans and friends could see you now,” you teased, slapping her ass hard to make her gasp.

“Your precious fans and friends. Bet they’d be shocked if they saw you doing this,” you grinned, fucking her harder, letting yourself get a little more carried away with the sensations of her tight asshole gripping around your shaft. You held onto her and fucked her harder, really taking a step up that knocked the breath out of her for a moment, Nayeon hauling in a huge breath as you plunged deep into her hot asshole.

“Fuck...” she winced, gritting her teeth as the pleasure started to build up rapidly on her, far more distinct and obvious as you pumped her with shorter, faster thrusts, holding her body tight and prone for you to fuck, existing solely for you to enjoy it seemed even though it was her that was starting to struggle towards climax. Her clit throbbed with every thrust and she could tell how wet she was, practically dripping on the bed as you fucked her ass.

Her hands twisted up big fistfuls of the passable sheets, holding herself down as much as bracing for it all as you continued to pull her hair back as you aggressively fucked her. You were working with a clearly practiced rhythm as you hammered into her hard and fast, not overdoing it but more than enough pressure to tell her you were in charge. It was clear to her as her orgasm continued to build, the familiar sensations deep within her telling her that a climax was imminent, her body twitching with little jolts of pleasure and bolts of electricity through her.

Nayeon tried to fight it, to push it down and tell herself it wasn’t happening, that she wouldn’t let it but it only seemed to make it more intense. It was like pulling back a rubber band, the harder she tried the more powerful it became and she just knew it was going to overwhelm her if she let go. She wanted to come, to let that orgasm take her as she already knew it was going to be something different, but she hated the fact that you’d win the bet...again. She just wanted to beat you and had been so sure you had no chance this time, but instead she was on all fours gasping hungrily as you pounded her ass to climax.

You both knew what was happening and you kept going hard, knowing you was hitting the right spot as she twisted and writhed on your prick, clearly wishing she wasn’t enjoying herself like she was but shoving back anyway to maximize your penetration. Your hands held her tightly, Nayeon is all yours as you plundered her ass, something she didn’t even let her boyfriend do and you absolutely loved that. Another your little anal slut, the highest profile you had by miles of course and the fact you could bring her such illicit, unexpected pleasure was a treat.

“Come on, Nayeon, just come for me,” you teased, fucking her ass intently, shaking her whole body with your pounding.

“No, I don’t want to...” she gasped, still fighting it and trying to hold out to win the bet, hoping it would pass and fade.

“Just let it happen,” you laughed, knowing she’d never stop it and that it was already overwhelming her. Nayeon just groaned helplessly as she shook, trembling in pre-orgasmic sensation as it began overtaking her. It still felt different, something new and unique that in some ways didn’t feel like an orgasm but the intensity was powerful, telling her something big was coming. You kept pumping, your rhythm and pace impressive as you thumped your big cock into her stretched asshole and jolted her towards climax.

“Fuck...” Nayeon said, her voice strained, struggling to get the words out as her heart raced, breaths catching in her throat as she tried to rapidly inhale, body just rushing as it all seemed to happen so quickly. It was all new and exciting, but totally overwhelming, something that she’d never experienced before and as a result she couldn’t entirely handle it. Her body bubbled and tingled, coming to the boil slowly but then suddenly rushing up on her all at once as her lithe, toned body gave a sudden quake and her breaths gutturally choked from her in a hard, shocked gasp.

“Oh...god!” She struggled as the huge orgasm hit her, seemingly rushing up from nowhere before either of you knew it was happening. She lost the bet in spectacular fashion as she quaked like never before, body losing all control for a moment it seemed as she hit her peak and lost her breath, so overcome by it all she couldn’t even pull any air in. She gasped desperately as she got past it and took some control, the ecstasy hitting her so intently she didn’t know which way to go, shoving her ass back into you even though it felt too much, her body prickling with pleasure.

It was all too much and she tried to pull away but you kept riding her, holding her back tightly and not letting her escape from the sensations. It was almost a punishment for losing as she bucked and strained under your hold, her mind tumbling, lost in the eclectic blend of all the different feelings rushing through her. The humiliation at losing, the incredible pleasure of a new kind of climax, the dominating feel of your cock thrusting into her ass and the helpless way her body was kicking and fighting it, the explosion lighting up her nerves and throwing her control completely.

Her hand fumbled up from the sheets as she tried to reach back to slow you down, straining away as it became too much, more overwhelming than anything else. Her grunts of pleasure became tight and uncomfortable, wincing as you rode her to the very end of her orgasm and pressed her down into the bed. Pinned down, she gasped helplessly as you fucked her firmly for the final few seconds and made her take your cock deeply, as deep as you could get it to finish off the whole sordid event completely.

You slowed to a stop but remained buried in her asshole, balls deep, not giving her the respite she needed as she helplessly crumpled on the bed beneath you. She was absolutely exhausted and needed time to recover, body feeling completely disconnected from her mind in the wake of her first anal orgasm. Just took a minute or so, gasping sweatily as you pinned her down on the cheap mattress. Nayeon heard a mumble of people through the wall and wondered how much they’d been able to hear of her climax. It didn’t matter, they had no idea who she was, but she still felt somehow exposed.

“So Nayeon, what just happened?” you smiled.

“You won the bet Oppa,” she mumbled.

“Yeah, I did, but how? What did I just do, Nayeon?” you questioned.

“You made me come by fucking my ass,” she muttered, blushing as she sheepishly put her head down, spelling it out directly as if she knew what you wanted to hear.

“Yes, I did,” you smiled, rocking your hips into her a bit to press your still hard cock into her ass to accentuate the point.

“Have you got a vibrator?” you asked.

“Uh...yeah, why?” she asked, taking a moment to find clarity of thought.

“With you?”

“Yeah, in my bag,” she replied.

“For those little treats on the go, huh?” you teased, climbing off her to slide your cock out of her strained asshole for the first time since you’d stretched her open, making her grunt, feeling so empty and used. you slid off and grabbed her bag, tipping the contents out onto the bed next to her and searching briskly through the abundance of make-up, chewing gum and other objects to easily locate the small, hot pink sex toy.

“Perfect,” you said as you grabbed it, sweeping the other stuff aside a little more, out of the way as you focused on her once more. you laid back on the bed next to her and flicked the toy on, checking it had charge as you looked to the exhausted idol beside you.

“Get up,” you ordered her, reaching over to smack her ass. She did as she was told, on autopilot and doing as you told her, pushing herself up onto her knees where you grabbed her hips and pulled her over, facing away into a reverse cowgirl position. Nayeon fumbled sluggishly as she climbed on, her legs heavy after her huge orgasm and still not quite working right. That new, different type of climax had hit her co-ordination and she clumsily slumped into you, taking a moment to get herself together.

She gasped loudly as you wasted no further time and pulled her back down, your hand on her hip to dominantly direct her down and back onto your cock, which you slipped straight back into her ass with no fuss at all. She felt the stretch but it didn’t hurt, her ass already loose and ready, easily wrapping around your cock once more as you pulled her down and buried it into her ass once more.

“Ride,” you commanded her, swatting her ass to spur her on. Nayeon immediately complied and pushed on with her legs, strong things shakily getting to work as she carefully rose up then sank down to work your cock into her tightest hole, the first time she’d ever ridden a cock during anal sex in her life. You didn’t try and run it, letting her set the pace and stroke as you knew she had to get into it, simply laying back and enjoying the sight of the gorgeous Nayeon slowly riding your cock.

Her tight asshole wrapped around you so perfect, stimulating your thick shaft and pulling at your head when she dared to get high enough that you might slip out. As she got more confident and bobbed up and down with ease, getting over the initial trepidation of it all, you flicked on the vibrator and reached over her hip to press it to her clit. She jumped suddenly, not expecting it or the sensation it caused to be so violent, her body ultra sensitive in the wake of everything.

She squealed in pleasure and sensation, your other hand holding her down lest she jolt up and off, her ass squeezing nicely as she shuddered. You gave her a minute to take it all in, quite literally, working against her as she got past the shock and recovered herself.

“Now ride,” you ordered once more. Nayeon hesitated, rocking her hips forward into the vibrating bullet you held on her clit for a second longer before she got to it, pulling her feet underneath her and crouching over you. It folded her legs tighter and changed her position, sitting down more directly into your cock so you could penetrate her deeper, the full length of your cock sinking into her ass as she sat down onto you again.

“Oh fuck,” she whimpered, shaking as your cock drove full depth inside her again and made her tingle, shaking as you pressed the vibrator into her clit more intently. But she did as she was told, obediently now, pushing up to start riding, thrusting herself down onto your impaling cock with careful squeezes of her asshole as she got bold enough to try it. You loved it and she was spurred on by your groans of pleasure, riding a bit faster, getting into it and giving in to the pleasure she felt. It wasn’t just from the vibrator either though that was a major part of it, the intense tingle spreading from her clit.

No, the pleasure of your cock plunging deep into her ass as she forced herself down was deeply satisfying, enjoyable in a unique way and she chased that feeling as she rode. She did as she was told, a good girl, your good girl, riding energetically as she lost herself to all the sensations and stimulation. The full, different feeling of your cock pumping into her ass combined with the intense tingle of her vibrator was like nothing she’d felt before and as a result she lost herself completely, unable to formulate clear thoughts as she was overwhelmed.

Nayeon was completely overstimulated, reaching down to try and pull your hand away with the toy, needing a break to pull her thoughts together. Instead, you just pressed it hard against her, ignoring her feeble attempts to get you to back off, crying out hard but not once slowing her stroke as she continued to ride your cock. It pulsed and flexed inside her enticingly, impossible to resist as she kept fucking hard even as she was desperately trying to get a break from the bullet.

“Fucking love this, don’t you?” you teased.

“Uhhhh...” Nayeon moaned incoherently, adrift in the wash of sensations.

“Love being another one of my anal sluts,” you continued. Nayeon just rasped hard, loudly breaking the air as sweat prickled her brow and she winced at the intense feeling running through her, muscles tightening.

“Another pretty Idol who just loves getting fucked hard.”

She was stung by it but frankly it was true, that moment proved it but she didn’t care, only focused on the overwhelming pleasure as she fucked you hard and made sure to drive your cock as deep as possible inside her with every stroke. Her grunts became loud and heavy, gutturally intense as she just gave in and rocked against the vibrator again, her body awash with the sensations as thousands of nerve endings were stimulated in different ways at once.

“Grunting like a slut as well,” you commented, but Nayeon didn’t care, barely hearing you as she grunted hard and fast, on the brink of another huge climax. It was rising in her and just as she was about to give in to it, to simply let it happen, you changed things up and grabbed her hip, holding her tightly and stopping her shoving down so you could pump up into her. Nayeon’s grunt turned to a scream as you turned it up to eleven and pounded up into her ass with short, hard strokes, the gorgeous idol held tight and clenching around you to make it more intense.

She screamed long and loud, overwhelmed as you thumped the sound from her lungs with your rapid, powerful thrusts that slammed up into her ass as you drove the vibrator intently into her clit. Nayeon had nowhere to go and just screamed her pleasure to the bedroom and anyone near enough that could hear her as her body suddenly boiled over in ecstasy again and she shook powerfully on top of you. She drove herself down, breaking your grip to impale herself fully again as she quaked in orgasm, giving a series of piercing screams of pleasure as she came hard, grinding her hips and working on her clit against the vibrator so it worked over her clit repeatedly.

She wasn’t sure she’d ever come so hard in her life and ached to prolong it, driving her hips hard with a primal rhythm to make it endured as long as possible. Her screams went silence, twitching and bucking in sharp, sudden surges as the pleasure became too much for her, the bolts of electricity more intent and effective as her body shook uncontrollably, fading into stillness as her climax faded and dissipated to nothing but a racing heartbeat and hungry breaths, reaching down to desperately shove you away from her clit in the process.

Before she even had a chance to do anything else you grabbed hold of her and wrenched her off, the idol tumbling off your cock onto the bed beside you. She was at your mercy, flapping limply in the aftermath of another orgasm as you swiftly took charge of her and rolled her onto her back, dragging her slender figure easily to where you wanted it. You were on her in a flash, once more ready to impale her on your thick cock as you threw her toned legs over your shoulders and yanked her into position before you.

“Go easy,” she breathed, wanting a break but knowing you were unlikely to give one. She wasn’t wrong as you completely ignored her, lining your cock up and plunging straight back into her tired, loosened asshole with ease and shoving your hips down to get full depth inside her. Nayeon cried out and weakly tried to stop you, her body surging in a rush on sensations as your bulging head drove deeply inside her again.

You ignored her and drove her down into the cheap mattress, her hands digging into the sheets as she gave up to simply cling on and take it, you in total control as you immediately began pounding into her. There was no mercy, thumping your cock hard and deep inside her, the hardest you had so far as you focused on your own enjoyment and took all you wanted from her taut, tired body. Nayeon groaned heavily, struggling as you smashed her hard and thumped the air from her lungs, her fingers digging sorely into the bed once more as she held on.

It was only fair since she’d had hers and now you will get yours, slamming yourself down against her with powerful grunts, breaths hard and intense as you put it to her and chased the illicit sensation of her tight asshole wrapped around your straining cock. You were completely into it and treating her like a cheap whore you’d picked up, slamming her intently without a care in the world, holding her toned legs over your shoulders as you gave her everything you had whilst ignoring her completely.

Nayeon was spiraling as she held on and took it, her asshole aching from the attention as she gasped desperately. She cried out as you suddenly reached down and slapped her across the face, stinging her, jolting her awake almost as she flinched and recoiled.

“Don’t mark me up,” she gasped, not wanting to explain to her boyfriend where a hand print had come from.

“I’ll do whatever I want, you slut,” you snapped in response, reaching down to grab her throat and choke her. Nayeon’s breath caught sharply, eyes wide as she surged and struggled a moment in shock more than anything else. You held her just long enough to make her squeak before letting go, the idol giving a huge gasp as you did, heart racing as you shoved her across the bed with your brutal pounding of her asshole. She never believed she’d be in such a situation, cheating on her boyfriend and getting hard anal sex in the process but here she was.

You reached out across the bed, slowing your pace momentarily as you grabbed her panties that were clinging onto the corner of the sheets, hooking the black thong onto your fingers before leaning back over her. She grunted as you thrust hard again to swiftly regain the pace you’d had previously, wasting no time in enjoying her sweet ass as you balled up the simple, sexy thong in your hand. Without hesitation you leaned down and stuffed the underwear straight into her mouth making her give a loud, shocked sound that was immediately muffled through the material.

“This’ll keep you quiet. I only want to hear you grunt,” you smiled as you shoved them right into her mouth, your fingers pressing them deep to make her gag, body heaving as you tripped her reflex when they touched the back of her throat. You just relished the chance to treat Nayeon so roughly and flexed your cock as you pumped it deeply inside her. Your pounding was hitting the spot again and she couldn’t quite believe she was enjoying it so much, your domination and dismissal of her just so hot, fucking her ass to your ultimate pleasure. Her hand pulled from the bed and reached down to touch her smoothly shaven pussy, not stopping her and just watching as she quickly located her stiff clit and started massaging it.

Her groan and shudder only made her asshole clench tighter for you and that was nothing but a good thing, pumping your hips and driving your thick cock into the snug, twitching hole. You reached across the bed to the tumble of her stuff, left from where you’d emptied her bag to find her bullet and grabbed hold of her lipstick. It was bright red, slutty, not a subtle everyday shade that she might wear. You uncapped it and twisted it open as you continued to pump your hips forward, revealing the bright stick.

You suddenly buried yourself deep and leaned over her, grabbing her hair to hold her still as she let out a muffled protest and stared widely at you. You used the lipstick to scrawl “SLUT” on her forehead in big bold letters before you knelt back up with a grin and threw it aside, grabbing her thighs again to crank into her as you started thrusting once more. Nayeon wasn’t sure what you’d done but assumed you’d written something derogatory on her, expecting little else, but it didn’t matter as she was simply losing it then.

Her fingers got back to work at her clit, rubbing busily as you started really pounding her, leaning over her and rolling her hips back to you could plunge deep and hard into her asshole. Your hips shoved hard against her sculpted ass, pressing into her booty over and over as you jammed yourself into her with short, hard thrusts. She was propelled towards the edge of the bed, sliding on the passable sheets as you fucked her harder than she’d ever imagined she’d be able to handle, your cock splitting her tight asshole in two as you drove into her.

Nayeon was completely lost to it as you pounded her asshole hard, harder than she’d ever experienced, her fingers dancing so easily on her clit, her well practiced technique doing the job to accentuate the sensations of the fucking. Anal might not be her bag, or so she claimed, but mixed with her fingers it was more than enough. After another minute or so of you ploughing her ass hard and her touch getting harder, faster and more aggressive she shuddered hard as another short but powerful orgasm quaked her soul.

Her noises were muffled by her panties, the black thong still stuffed in her mouth where she obediently kept it despite the humiliation of it, grunting hard through it as her eyes squeezed shut, body shaking and clenching around you. It was a bit too tight, rather uncomfortable as her stretched, strained asshole was at breaking point, barely able to keep it together before it lost all sense of strength under the energetic fucking. You’d shoved her to the edge of the bed in the excitement and with her shakes she was suddenly over the side, squealing through her makeshift gag as she tumbled back off the bed onto her shoulders.

Her legs flailed as she landed with her ass up in the air, still twitching and kicking in climax as it faded as she was suddenly presented in the perfect piledriver position. She was barely conscious of it however as she passed out, overwhelmed by it all, the sensations of another orgasm mixing with the relentless anal pounding you were putting on her. It was all too much and her world faded, slumped back on her shoulders by the bed as you just kept going, riding her over the edge and slamming down into her.

You didn’t care that she’d passed out either, smiling to yourself in sheer enjoyment as you kept fucking her exhausted body, stepping off the bed and over her for maximum penetration, driving yourself down hard into the collapsed star. Your cock throbbed and tingled with pleasure, letting yourself really feel it as you worked to the finish, the idol slumped under your efforts and completely fucked out. Making her come from anal sex, like you’d promised, had been another personal triumph and you enjoyed that as you pounded her hard and deep, your cock bucking as you approached climax.

You relished that final few seconds, pounding into the wrecked star, her legs flopping as she laid helples. you felt the inevitable tingle and your cock stiffening fully, taking a chance on a final few strokes into her before you yanked it out and grabbed hold of yourself firmly, stroking fast. Jerking your cock furiously, you held on as long as you could possibly handle and then aimed down at her pretty face, between her folded legs and exploded with a grunt of ecstasy. Your first thick spurt was perfectly on target and spattered across her gorgeous features, Nayeon twitching as it shocked her a little and spurred her back towards attention.

Your aim was locked in and you grunted hard with every subsequent burst from your cock, ejaculating thick, salty come down over her for an impressive facial. By the time you were shivering and squeezing out the last of your load she was covered, coated with a facial she fully deserved, your prize after fucking her so impressively to the orgasm she’d claimed was impossible. Well, one of the prizes, as you still had to claim what she’d actually bet on which was photographs of her.

You stepped off her, straightening up with a shiver and a smile, grinning to yourself as you breathed deep to recover in the wake of a job well done. You wasted no time however and quickly found your phone from your pocket, flicking it onto camera and stepping back to the exhausted idol, still practically unconscious at the side of the bed. You steadied yourself and perfectly framed her asshole, loose and open in the wake of intense fuck, her legs slumping back only helping to spread her for the camera. you snapped several shots, getting exactly what you came for, before you stepped back to grab a couple of pictures of her wrecked form.

Seeing Nayeon slumped back, just about coming round in the aftermath of it all, was hot and you loved the way she was then compared to her hot headed attitude just a little while before at the golf course. Before she had a chance to completely come to you stepped over her and got pictures of her face with your thick load splashed across it, your masterpiece almost but it was also just fantastic to have a photo of Nayeon in perhaps the sluttiest state she’d ever been.

“You alright?” you asked, throwing the phone aside as Nayeon stirred, mumbling and inhaling deeply as she came around, trying to stop her spinning head as she looked around blearily.

“Yeah, just...yeah, give me a minute,” she murmured, pushing away from the bed and rolling down onto her side, getting the rush of blood away from her head as she dropped her legs.

“Sure,” you smiled, turning back to get dressed again. It was a quick and easy process and as she laid on the questionable floor breathing hard, trying to process everything, you got your clothes on and tucked your phone safely back in your pocket. You smiled as Nayeon slowly pulled herself onto her knees, one of her eyes closed from your handiwork, yanking herself up onto the bed as she reached out to grab a tissue from the side. Cheap as the motel was, at least they offered that.

She contemplated what had just happened; she’d cheated on her boyfriend, again, unable to resist the temptation on what she’d thought was a safe bet. An easy way to restore her pride and take your prized Porsche off you, but all it had led to was her passed out on a cheap motel room floor with an aching asshole and embarrassingly huge orgasms in her wake, not to mention a massive boost to your ego. She was mad, or rather wanted to be mad, because the fact was you’d made her come like she never had before and the climax had been massive, totally new and overwhelming. It was hard to look back at it with much regret.

“That was something else,” she said as she wiped her face, giving a wince as she moved a little and strained herself, a twinge running through her gaping, exhausted asshole. Completely destroyed and she knew it would take days to recover from what had just happened.

“You can say that again, that’s two nothing to me,” you grinned.

“I’m sure you won’t let me forget it,” she mumbled.

“Nope. You’ll have to try and even the score.”

“Maybe I’ll quit making these stupid bets, I don’t seem to have much luck,” she replied.

“I dunno, there could be worse ways to lose a bet,” you said.

“I guess.”

“Anyway, I’m outta here, we’ll catch up for some more golf soon,” you said abruptly, turning to the door.

“What?! Wait, what do you mean you’re going? What the fuck am I supposed to do?” she exclaimed.

“Take a shower, get dressed, then take the keys back to the desk,” you smiled, throwing them onto the bed in front of her.

“I can’t do that!” she said.

“Well, you’d better, someone has to check out of this flophouse. I’ve got a Porsche to drive,” you smiled and with that opened the door and walked out, Nayeon cowering behind the bed in case someone was outside. You pulled it shut but not fully, leaving a gap as you laughed and walked across to your gleaming black car in the parking lot.

“Fucking asshole!” she snapped to herself, quickly throwing herself over the bed and towards the door with another wince of pain from her ass, staying the side away from the opening to slam it shut and lock it. It was an irritation, part of your game, on top of the final humiliation she’d have to face in checking out of the place. She only hoped that whoever was at the desk didn’t recognize her when she did it, not wanting even a hint of what she’d been up to getting out.

Nobody was going to know besides you—nobody. But she knew temptation would get her again, knew she’d give into it, especially if you were gonna fuck her like that, like nobody else ever had.

She was always going to be weak to your evident skill. She just prayed you would be as quiet as her.

[ellecdc]

Hi! I’m back 😬. I’m still extremely new to requesting so feel no pressure to write this soon. I was thinking of quiet!reader, who gets nervous when she is around Regulus and instantly starts saying the most out of pocket things and being chatty to fill in the silence. Regulus finds this amusing and usually keeps a serious, quiet demeanor to hear the weird things that come out of her mouth. 😊

looolllll the second I got this request it made me think of that Philomena Cunk meme on TikTok where people were like 'me whenever the conversation lulls' - so I had to borrow that quote!!! (let me know if you find it). Thanks so much for requesting babes - hope you love it 🫶

Regulus Black x quiet!fem reader (who can't shut up around him)

The world was out to get you, that much you were certain of. You were certain of this fact because this was the third time this week that your table in the library had somehow attracted the elusive Regulus Arcturus Black. 

Usually, this would not be an issue. In fact, one could argue this was a rather nonissue, seeing as you were sort of embarrassingly completely infatuated with the aggravatingly quiet boy in your year.

However, it appeared that the company of one Regulus Arcturus Black short-circuited some fundamental part of your brain which caused you to blurt out the most asinine comments known to all of wizardingkind – nay – humankind. The universe has never seen the likes of such horrible conversation. 

It went a little like this: 

Earlier in the week you had set up your arithmancy homework out in front of you at your favourite table in the library. It was your favourite table because it had a window view, but that window view was the least distracting window view in the whole library. It also was the perfect distance to a fireplace, meaning you could manage to stay warm in the stone castle during the cold Scottish winters. 

Unfortunately, it seemed, the table didn’t give you a good vantage point to alert you when one Regulus Arcturus Black made an appearance.

“Mind if I sit here?” A quiet voice startled you out of your calculations, causing you to overturn a pot of ink in front of you.

“Fucking Merlin and Morgana! I- oh, erm, uh, no I uhm, fuck.” You sputtered as you split your attention between the boy standing across from you and the pool of ink quickly making its way towards your skirt. 

With a non-descript flick of Regulus’ wand, the mess was gone – though the damage to your parchment was unsalvageable.

“Oh, uhm, thanks. Sorry I – erm, have a seat. Although, you might not be safe!” You tried to joke but your voice came out disturbingly high, and the (failed) ‘joke’ made you flush hot with shame.

“I’m usually way cooler than this.” You tried to argue, before you realized that someone way cooler definitely wouldn’t have just said that.

Regulus was either unbothered by your horrifying actions or chose to ignore them. He opened his textbooks and began taking notes like you weren’t even there, while you sat in the most awkward and uncomfortable silence of your entire life.

It wasn’t long before you decided you couldn’t take it anymore, standing abruptly – so abruptly, in fact, that you had to quickly save another pot of ink from spilling – and began hastily gathering your things. Regulus did look up at this, and his eyes on you seemed to cause another malfunction to your central nervous system.

“Well, I must be off. I have other homework to dump ink on.” You said, except you didn’t deliver the sentence as a joke and it sounded all too believable – paired with your actions today, and you were certain he believed that’s exactly what you were off to do.

“Toodaloo.” You called and ran from the library.

Toodaloo!?!?! Are you fucking serious!?!! TOODALOO. Oh gods.

You didn’t dare return to the library the following day.

The day after that, though? It was fair game.

You were once again sitting at your favourite table and had ensured you placed a sticking charm on the bottom of your ink pots to avoid any more unfortunate accidents, when the clearing of a throat interrupted your studies.

“Mind if I sit here?” Regulus asked quietly, motioning to the seat across from you.

He’s kidding, right? After what happened two days ago, he can’t possibly want to sit with you?

Nonsense, perhaps this is just his favourite table in the library too.

You were determined this time not to make a fool of yourself.

“Have you finished the rune translations for Professor Babbling, yet?” Regulus asked.

No, the world was definitely out to get you.

“I, erm, I’ve started it. I believe it references the magic practiced by the Egyptians during the Predynastic period. Quite interesting stuff, Ancient Egypt. Did you know that Egyptians believed the most significant thing you could do in your life was die?” 

You were talking a mile a minute. You knew this to be true due to the fact that your tongue was actually tripping over your words, but while your brain was shouting shut up shut up shut up shut up, your mouth just kept moving.

“Is that so?” Regulus asked, his eyes squinting ever so slightly as he scrutinized you.

“I don’t know actually.” You admitted, realizing you may have just lied to Regulus Black about Ancient Egypt. “I, I suppose I meant that they put way more emphasis on death than life.” You cringed again. “I don’t know if that’s true either – it’s just, it’s... it's the pyramids!” You shouted desperately, earning you a shush from the librarian. 

“The pyramids?” He asked incredulously, a smile playing on his lips.

He was making fun of you, surely.

“Yup. Pyramids.” You squeaked, turning your face back towards your textbook.

“And you got all of that from the runes translation?”

Your face burned in shame.

“Uhm, no. The runes said no such thing. I just…know things.”

“You know things?”

“Right like, uhm, oh apparently Shakespeare didn’t actually write any of the works attributed to his name. Did you know that? William Shakespeare’s parents were illiterate - which doesn’t necessarily mean much because, perhaps he became learned later in life, right? However, William Shakespeare’s own children were also illiterate. I mean, what famous playwright wouldn’t teach their children to read? It’s all bollocks.” 

You had to catch your breath at the end of your tangent.

“That’s a bold claim.” Regulus said plainly. 

Fucking hells, was it hot in here?

“Right, well, erm. I have to go.” You said as you gathered your things and rushed towards the door.

“Uhm, Y/N?” Regulus called.

“Yes?”

“Your wand?”

You looked back at the table and, sure enough, your wand sat forgotten in your place. 

“Right, thanks. Uhm, best of luck on the rune’s translation. Let me know if you need help and erm, uhm, I - bye!”

You stayed out of the library for two days after that.

Which brought you to today. You decided to try to save yourself the humiliation and Regulus the hassle of having to sit with you by finding a different table. You would leave your favourite table to Regulus if it meant saving yourself the embarrassment of uttering absolute nonsense to your schoolgirl crush.

What you had forgotten, however, was how the world was absolutely 100% without a doubt out to get you.

“Mind if I sit here?” Regulus asked quietly, causing you to look up so quickly and, not being used to this table and unaware of the fact that you were sitting under a light sconce, you smacked your head rather painfully in the action.

“Son of a fucking dugbog.” You spat miserably as you rubbed at the sore spot already producing a lump on your head.

“Why?” You all but screeched.

Regulus tilted his head at you as one of his eyebrows raised. “Why?”

“Yes, why.”

“Why what?”

“Oh for – why do you want to sit with me?!”

He looked close to smiling as he scrutinized your form. “Do you not want to sit with me?”

“Of course I want to sit with you!” You admitted embarrassingly - and loudly - earning you a shush from the librarian.

“So, I can sit here then?”

You groaned and let your head thump onto the table in front of you – at least now you’d have a matching lump on the front of your head too.

“At the risk of me making a total and utter fool of myself? Sure, be my guest.”

You swore you heard him chuckle under his breath as he pulled the chair out across from you. You didn’t dare lift your head, however. Perhaps if you couldn’t see his piercing silver gaze, or his adorable black curls, or his stupid smirk, then maybe you wouldn’t be forced to say something ridiculous. 

“What? No fun facts for me today?” Regulus – the arse – asked from across from you.

You raised your head slightly, though left your shoulders at table level as you levelled him with a glare.

“You’re doing this to me on purpose, aren’t you? What, you get off on me making a fool of myself?”

Regulus smirked, though something in his eyes turned a little soft as he spoke. “I don’t think you make a fool of yourself.”

You scoffed and let your head fall back to its previous spot with a thud. “You’re an arse and a liar, Regulus Black.”

“Okay, perhaps you’ve been a little foolish.” He conceded, causing you to groan into the woodgrain of the table. “But I’ve enjoyed every second of it.”

Your head snapped up at that, and even Regulus grimaced as he watched you just barely miss the light sconce behind you.

“You’ve…enjoyed me making a fool of myself?” You asked incredulously.

Regulus moved his head back and forth in a sort of ‘so-so’ gesture. “I’ve enjoyed getting to listen to you. Why do you think I’ve been asking to sit with you all week?”

Apparently, your table wasn’t Regulus’ favourite table. Or at least, that wasn’t what made it his favourite – it was the fact that you had been sitting there that had made it so.

And ever since then, whatever table you were sitting at in the library – one would likely find Regulus Black there too.

[chuluoyi]

heartbreak hotel

- gojo satoru x reader

so you're going on a three-day-two-night getaway trip with the one and only Gojo Satoru. the catch? you two have just broken up.

genre/warnings: crack, jealousy, a dose of pettiness, hurt/comfort, fluff, zero angst i promise, suguru being a good buddy to his boyfriend best friend

notes: inspired by a very real life story :))) anyways, it takes place in an au where suguru never left and all is well with our little meow meow catoru the wonderful colored manga panel by the talented @redbluenight! this was so much fun to write (that it turned into a whopping 3k+ word, so sorry) and i even made a playlist while on it ;)

general masterlist

"He's intolerable!"

There were many things that led to the end of your relationship with Gojo Satoru, but if asked one word to sum it, then that was it.

When you started this thing with him, obviously you had never planned on how it would end―who started a relationship with that sort of mindset anyway? But if you could choose, you definitely wouldn't want it to end with dramatic shouting match that left you in tears.

Anyways, some things were just not meant to be. You refused to spend your whole life crying over that smug bastard, and so you moved on.

However, if there's one thing you've learned about plans, it is that whenever you already make a foolproof one, the world always has some funny way to mess it up.

Like this time.

"I... I remembered saving for months," you stammered dumbly, staring blankly at Shoko in front of you. The realization felt like a spiritual ascent. "I paid for that damn plane ticket and hotel with my whole saving. I can't just throw them away."

How could you possibly forget about this? This graduation trip that had been planned between your group of Satoru, Suguru, Shoko and yourself for months now. It was meant to be a getaway, a celebration of your most significant achievement after four years of barely getting by on exorcising curses and not dying in the process. This was supposed to be the ultimate milestone celebration in your life.

"Then don't," Shoko replied simply, twisting the cigarette in her mouth. "I'm still going though. No way I'm wasting that money."

"But!" you vehemently hissed. "He will be there. It means I have to see him for three days straight!"

Your cringeworthy breakup happened just barely a week ago. You had sworn in front of Gojo Satoru that you didn't want to see his face again, and yet in less than a week from now, you and him would literally share the same space―again?

"Can't I get a refund?"

"This late? Nah, it's like yay or nay at this point."

You slumped in frustration. Were the gods making you swallow your own words now? You were left with no other choice. Your frugality and tendency to get broke often compelled you to make the decision.

You were going on this trip whether he was there or not.

Meanwhile, on his end, the said smug bastard was brooding, groaning and pacing over the same predicament. Satoru had two options and had weighed them all, and somehow he still arrived at the more seemingly no-good decision.

"I'm going, duh!"

"You are?" Suguru asked with a hint of surprise in his voice. "Well, might be the first time I've seen someone agree to go on an overnight trip with his ex..."

"Hmph. I just don't like squandering money."

Suguru snorted, unimpressed. “Satoru, you have an entire fortune. The airfare is just an amount you'd donate to charity. Besides, you have wasted more than that.”

“Well, I want to enjoy my youth too! I’m going—who cares if she’ll be there!”

He was still miffed, recalling the day your argument spiraling out of control. How could you say those hurtful things to him?

“You never take things seriously—heck, I’m not even sure if you’re ever taking me seriously at all! Satoru, you’re always acting all high and mighty, but you’re just a selfish little twat!”

No way. The last time, he was left in the dust, not being able to say anything in his defense. So now, he would use this chance to be the one who had the last laugh. He was going, because he was 70% sure that you wouldn’t let your hard-earned money go to waste.

And he was right when two days later, he found you at the airport with a bitter scoff upon seeing him.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he moistened his lower lip in that obnoxious way. “Missed me?”

You walked past him, tone lacing with disdain. “Get lost, Gojo.”

He couldn’t help the prickling sensation in his chest when you dismissed him just like that. And the use of his last name—whereas you used to call him with all sort of available pet names? Now that was just low.

“Nah, you can’t get away from me that easily, Y/N,” Satoru sniggered. “You’re going to see me for the next three days, so suck it up and enjoy the sight,” and then the idiot proceeded to pump his fist in the air. “Wooo! Kyushu, here I go!”

Suguru and Shoko merely observed your icy interactions in silence, occasionally exchanging glances from time to time.

ITINERARY ::: DAY 1 — BEACH DAY @ SEASIDE HOTEL

After the three-hour flight, the four of you arrived at Karatsu, one of the main highlights in your trip—or back then, one you and Satoru handpicked yourselves.

You swore you still had your heart frozen for him, so you didn’t know what stirred it when you saw him giggling and doubling over in carefree delight, surrounded by those beach girls in skimpy bikinis.

“Hey, handsome~ is this even okay?” one of the girls in pink thong scooted closer to him, asking him with this cheap seductive grin. “Won’t your girlfriend be mad?”

At that moment, you could’ve sworn Satoru threw you a glance from the corner of his eye before replying with a triumphant bark. “What girlfriend? I’m wholly and happily single!”

The hell?

A rush of squeals grated your nerves as they swarmed your ex-boyfriend, prompting you to stalk away in irritation.

Absolutely not. You wouldn’t let this fine establishment be your heartbreak hotel any longer.

Gojo Satoru knew fully that he was petty. He let you see that on purpose just to rile you up, because frankly, he still felt like he didn’t deserve your messy breakup at all.

But when you were no longer in his eyesight, suddenly the urge to entertain these strangers dissipated, and what remained was this hollow sensation in his chest. You not paying him attention somehow made him crave it all the more.

He recalled how you pointed out that playing in the clear waters would be your ideal graduation gift. He specifically recommended this place himself and you had agreed. He remembered planning all of this, dragging Suguru and Shoko too just to make it merrier. To keep that cute smile on your face.

You were supposed to fool around with him in the clear waters of Matsubara Beach, splashing and pulling him underwater.

And yet in reality, he was toying with these questionable women and in your eyes, he was nothing but an irritable twat.

He didn’t see you again until evening, during dinner time. And the sight before him made him want to pull Suguru to the side and trap him inside his unlimited void.

"Really?" Your clear voice rang in his ears, every bit the same as when you would energetically question him with those doe eyes of yours, as you peered at Suguru. "We should go together tomorrow then!"

His eyes twitched.

What has his life come to? Reduced into seeing his ex-girlfriend possibly going on a date with his best friend?

He almost hoped that you'd stage up your pettiness level. It was worse because unlike him, you didn't make this up just to gauge his reaction.

That night, in their shared hotel room, he ignored Suguru completely, as well as silently waiting for him to divulge where he and you were going tomorrow.

"Hey Satoru—"

"Shut up, I'm trying to sleep."

It was obviously a wrong move, because Suguru apparently caught the hint and stayed quiet as a mouse throughout the night.

ITINERARY ::: DAY 2 — HOT SPRING @ KUMAMOTO

Or at least, last he remembered, that was the agenda.

Until he saw that only Shoko who was there, idling around at the hot spring area.

"Where are the others? Why is it only you here?"

She shrugged. "Geto said he's going to try the local specialties. Dunno where. As for me, I'm going to enjoy this onsen to the fullest."

Shoko noticed his irritated scowl, and a sly grin crept across her face.

"Heh, jealous much now, Gojo?"

Meanwhile, you and Suguru went to various dessert shops in town as per his invitation. Perhaps he took pity on you because you really seemed not to be having any fun at all after you stormed off from the beach area yesterday.

"Mmm! This is tasty!" you remarked, munching away the three-colored dango happily. You were so engrossed in eating today that you no longer had any room to think about anything else, which was a good thing.

Suguru smiled. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself now." However, he appeared to have something on his mind, prompting you to hum and tilt your head in curiosity.

"No, it's just... so it's really over between you and Satoru?"

You let out a snort. "Yeah. Totally. He's an ass."

"He really is miserable, you know..."

"Nah, he doesn't look like it."

Your friend sighed. "Honestly, what was the argument even about? Both of you usually didn't take it this far."

You didn't want to go back to that topic, really. But Suguru was always the one with cooler head, and after his kindness today, maybe you could spare him a detail or two.

"It's a lot of little things that have piled up, you know," you mumbled. "It's probably just how he is, and I know. But I finally reached my boiling point. Why can't he try to see things from my perspective? Everything that's important to me doesn't seem to matter to him, and relationships need two people, not just one who resigns and the other who does anything he pleases."

And until now, you doubted if Satoru even realized what he did wrong. That was what hurt you the most. Like you were so small in his eyes, like he could toy with you and get away with it.

As you expected, Suguru would understand your point. "So that's how you feel... Yeah, I think I get it."

You thought he would end it at that, but then he went on. "I'm not defending him, Y/N. I think some time away from you would do him good, but later, maybe you can talk this to him? See if he will understand?"

"I already did, so many times." You narrowed your eyes at him. "Not to offend you, but it awfully seems like you're defending him, Suguru, despite you saying otherwise."

"I'm saying this because sometimes we can forget that Satoru is different," he explained sympathetically, and to be honest, you were surprised by his statement. "He is born exalted. He has a hard time comprehending things that come to us naturally. I just think it's a pity if... you can actually fix this, but just because bad communication, you lose the chance to."

Have you properly communicated this to him? Now that you thought about it, most of the times you would just get mad and point at the little things he missed, but never actually told him how it made you feel.

Your mind was still muddled with the fact Suguru had shed light on even after you got back to ryokan where you were staying for the night. The two of you were in for a surprise though as apparently there was a festival happening there.

Everything seemed to spark with glitters. The bamboo lanterns, lights, the gentle breeze. It created an undeniably romantic ambiance, to be honest.

You didn't know when Suguru slipped away, but suddenly, you found yourself alone amidst the visitors and dim lights.

And you found yourself to be immensely lonely.

Satoru spotted you in all your solitary glory amidst the sea of people in this godforsaken place.

No, actually it was a pretty great inn and attraction, but this trip had been horrible so far, and so he just felt everything was bad.

But at that moment, bitterness no longer clouded his mind, because you were so beautiful, bathed in the glow of the lights that Shoko had forcibly dragged him to see. If it were up to him, he'd spend the last night sleeping his heartbreak away, but now that he was here, he was thankful to see the dazzling sight of you that reminded him once again just what made him hopelessly in love with you.

And why he didn't get his sorry ass back into your good graces faster.

He retraced everything had brought both of you to this point. Your last fight was about what again? Him not telling you any news when he would be back from a mission?

No matter how he thought about it, it was a trivial matter. So what made you mad? He kept thinking, and then he imagined switching places with you. What if you didn't text him at all for three days straight? How would he feel? Oh, he would be despondent, of course.

Now he was starting to understand. He had done that so many times he could no longer keep count. Granted, you would be angry.

Satoru suddenly know how to rectify this. He can make things right. He would be damned if he didn't. He just had to pull you aside, and he was going to when he lost sight you in the crowd.

Okay, now he was frantic, as the longer he didn't see you, the more his opportunity to make amends slipped away. He moved through the crowd, pushing people in the process, earning ire and questionable glares and yet he cared none for it.

He nearly cursed at how his phone kept vibrating incessantly inside his pocket. Begrudgingly, he took it out and almost gasped.

You are calling him.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

It was so incredibly stupid. You just went to pee for a bit and then somehow got yourself locked in the toilet. It might have been fine, but then the lights unexpectedly went out, scaring the shit out of you.

How could such a upscale inn experience a sudden power outage and have doors that wouldn't budge? It was worse when no matter how many times you punched the switch or banged the door, it refused to turn on or open.

You were trapped. Honestly, it took everything you had not to cry.

And so you did the next best thing aside from forcing your way out. You called your friends. First, Shoko, and then Suguru, but both of them somehow didn't pick up the call even after you had called them three times each.

That left you with one possible person left. In your frenzied mind, it didn't even register in your mind what you were doing as the line connected and the last person you'd call on the other side answered.

"Satoru," you shakily breathed out, almost crying—or were you already? You didn't know as you focused on his sharp intake of breath, most likely surprised at how rattled you sound.

"Y/N? What? What is it?"

"I—" you wheezed, hating how helpless you sounded, yet still forced the words out. "I'm locked, it's dark—and it's just so—help! Help me please! I tried getting Shoko but she didn't—"

"Okay, sweetheart, calm down. Calm down, okay?" Satoru's voice brought you some comfort and it helped to reduce your tears, missing how he slipped up by calling you with his usual pet name for you. "Tell me. Where are you?"

"The women's restroom… I think it’s in the east wing."

"I'm coming, okay? Don't panic. I'll be there. Just stay on the line."

You heard his ragged breaths as he muttered several "coming through!" and "excuse me!" from where he was. It made your heart lurch. Despite the spiteful breakup, he rushed to your aid as soon as he realized you were in some kind of trouble.

Was this okay, to let your relationship end just like that?

"I'm outside." And then you heard his voice, much to your relief. "Y/N? Are you there?"

"Yes!" you shouted over the steel door.

You then heard how he rummaged to get the door open, and faintly hear him cursing it. "It won't open."

You wanted to sob, but then Satoru told you with an absolute tone, sounding so sure and demanding that compelled you to comply. "Get away from the door. As far as possible. Take cover."

Oh God, was he going to do what you thought he might do?

...he did. The next thing you knew, the door—and much more than that—was destroyed, and a rush of cursed energy was everywhere. After the blast subsided, you instinctively made a run for it, and you didn't know how, but you ended up stumbling into him.

Satoru caught you in his firm embrace.

"It's okay. You're okay," he cooed, whispering in your ear gently, urging your shivering body to calm down. "You're safe now, Y/N... I'm here. You're safe."

There was always something about your trembling form that made him want to tear down everything and anything in his path just to make you feel secure. And there was always this sense of rightness whenever you snuggled in his arms. Both desires clashed in a contrasting need and want and Satoru could do nothing but keep you close to him, torn between the two.

He kept his hand on your spine, and you clung on him, burying your face in his broad, sturdy chest.

Nevermind the fact that you technically broke up with him. Nevermind that ever since this botched trip started, it was the first occasion in which the two of you held a proper conversation without spewing bravado or sarcasm.

Afterwards, he led you away from the site, and he figured it would be best to go somewhere quieter rather than the festival, and so here you were, at the deserted lounge.

You had calmed down for the most part, and slowly you felt heat in your cheeks. In hindsight, you could've tried using cursed energy to blast the door too, why didn't you think of that earlier?

And yet, unaware of your internal musings, Satoru's thoughts were occupied with another matter entirely, and blame it on his insensitivity—he chose this moment to drop it without hesitation.

"I want you back," he declared, void of any hesitation. "I'll be better, I promise. Those things you hate—tell me, and I'll make sure not to repeat them again."

He wasn't the sharpest when it came to picking up on your feelings, but Satoru vowed that if it bothered you that much, then he would do his best to avoid doing it.

But you... you were still trying your best to grasp the situation. Amidst the plot twist you just experienced tonight, his blatant proclamation was the last thing you expected so you only managed a "What?"

He held your gaze, eerily serious. “I don’t want to break up. It’s hell. We can—I can still fix this.”

He looked sincere, unlike the usual empty promises he’d give you after you went off on him. And suddenly, you understood.

“…really?”

“Yeah. Just give me another chance. I’ll prove it to you,” Satoru said, visibly impatient now. “I won’t give you up. This literally is the fight of my life right now.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, despite yourself. If there was anything that you had learned tonight, it was that apparently you and him were still salvageable.

“And how will you prove it?”

“Just so you wait and see, sweets. I’m gonna relight your feelings!”

It was beyond corny that he took a line from your favorite song. And both of you burst into a laughter at the sheer silliness of it.

You sighed, but this time of relief, in stark contrast to your earlier sighs that afternoon. You were giddy as a smile perched on your lips. “Fine. Let’s give this another shot.”

Satoru felt the tension in his shoulder melt with your answer. A genuine, wide smile emerged from the bottom of his heart and lit up his face.

“Now, this whole trip has been kind of terrible so far, don’t you think?” He made a brief pouty face for a moment before reverting to his mischievous grin His remarkable expressiveness—reminiscent of a child's, in your opinion—never ceased to fascinate you. “I have a pretty good idea where we should go next.”

You furrowed your brow in confusion. “What do you mean? Tomorrow’s our last day.”

“No freaking way!” he exclaimed, whipping out his phone to launch the travel agency app. “We are going to redo our graduation trip. This time just the two of us!”

There were many things that led to the end of your relationship with your dork of a boyfriend, but as you reflected on it, you realized that there were also many reasons for you to stay together, especially when he reached for your hand and held it firmly in his grasp.

You were unable to contain your excitement and bubbling with melodious giggles that he adored so much as he whisked you away from Kumamoto in favor of the last bullet train to Kyoto, where your long-awaited true vacation would begin.

Epilogue

“I told you this was a horrible idea. I fucking told you.”

"Can you blame me? Dude was about to throttle me in my sleep."

"Geto," Shoko scowled, her disbelief at his simple answer evident as she gestured wildly with both hands towards the wrecked lavatory, emphasizing her point. "Look—now that he had gone and done it, we're the ones footing the bill for the destruction of property!"

Gojo had blasted the washroom with a freaking Red. And the innkeeper promptly held both Shoko and Suguru responsible since their roommates were captured on CCTV and had vanished without a trace.

Suguru rubbed his neck sheepishly. "I genuinely thought it was a good idea. I didn't expect Satoru to go overboard though," then he threw her a stink eye. "And hey, you were complicit in this too!"

Shoko mumbled a string of curses as she pulled out her phone, snapping some pictures of the undeniable evidence of Gojo’s doing, and then made a call. Suguru frowned.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm reporting him to the headquarters!"

[todayisafridaynight]

why cant i get paid to think of domestic arakawa family things huh. id be SO rich if that were a thing

[pricelessemotion]

poltergeists for sidekicks | E.M.

summary: [2.3k] the kids drag eddie to the halloween store where you happen to work.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, pining, eddie being a lovestruck idiot, r wears big prescription glasses and is described as having messy hair

a/n: happy halloween! here’s something i’ve been working on for ages just in time for the end of spooky szn! xoxo

masterlist

Eddie doesn’t hate Halloween. 

He used to love Halloween. He likes autumn. He likes watching the leaves change colors. He can appreciate the novelty of a hot apple cider and a hay ride. Hell, ever since he was old enough to go trick or treating, he reveled in it. Free candy and all he had to do was put on a costume and say three magic words? Sign him up. 

As he got older, he started to like Halloween for a slightly different reason. Don’t get him wrong, he still liked the free candy, but he liked the excuse to be someone else for a night. He liked how he could throw on a Michael Meyers mask and go door-to-door and be greeted with glee and sweets. 

It does a funny thing to a kid’s self-esteem, being treated better when he’s wearing the face of a fictional serial killer. 

Now, though, Eddie Munson is decidedly too old for trick or treating. He’s resigned himself to spending the holiday like it was any other day by spending the night in his room, playing guitar, and coming up with new campaign ideas. 

Which is exactly what he was doing when three freshmen started pounding down the door of the trailer demanding entry. Within moments, they are practically on their hands and knees asking, nay begging, for the older boy to take them to get last-minute Halloween costumes.

“Aren’t you guys too old to go trick or treating?”

“This is why we need to go to the store! If we wear masks, no one will be able to tell how old we are, hence extending our years of candy collecting.” Dustin explains, matter of factly.  

Eddie sighs, leaning back into the sofa, steepling his fingers together. “What’s in it for me?”

The three boys huddle together, conspiring in a manner that is not dissimilar to the way they plan their counterstrikes during Hellfire. They nod in sync, turning around so that Lucas is standing front and center, flanked by the two other boys.  

“That one girl you like is working there.”

Eddie remains stone-faced, quipping sarcastically, “That’s very specific.”

Mike lets out an exasperated groan, threading his fingers through his hair before yanking at the ends in frustration. “Y’know, the weird one. Coke bottle glasses, messy hair, always holding a book?”

Lucas’ eyes widen. Dustin smacks Mike on the chest and the hollow sound rings out through the empty trailer. They all start talking over each other, with two of them berating the third for A. being insensitive and B. expecting a good outcome from said insensitivity. 

Eddie wants to make a comment that your hair is not messy, it’s actually more voluminous. Besides, his hair is messy and he likes to think it makes him look badass. The glasses comment was a little unfair. Sure, the frames are a similar shade to the iconic green of the bottles of Coca-Cola. But the magnification was endearing, leaning more towards doe-eyed than bug. Unfortunately, Eddie did not consider that while he was observing you, someone might’ve been observing him. 

The assurance of your presence is how Eddie ends up here, parked outside of a hardware store turned seasonal shop. He’s helping his friends. He’s supporting a local business and therefore contributing to the local economy! You being here is just a bonus.

A bell rings above them as he swings open the door, the motion setting off a scratchy pre-recorded cackle. He’s gotta hand it to whoever is running the store. They’ve gone out of their way to transform the dingy overhead fluorescents and worn-out linoleum into something that actually resembles an eerie boutique. 

“Welcome in! I’ll be right witch you!” Your voice lilts out from the depths. 

You appear out of the darkness, expertly weaving under fake cobwebs and pushing aside fanciful drapes that have no doubt been strung up precariously around the store to add to the ambiance. You’ve got a witch’s hat on, tall and black and pointy, which further explains the pun you greeted them with. 

“How can I help you?” You smile brightly, adjusting your glasses. 

The younger boys barely spare you a glance, just a chorus of we’re good! before running off to the other side of the store, where all of the costumes are located. 

You barely blink at their rudeness. Whether that’s indicative of your experience in customer service or due to your generally sunny disposition, Eddie isn’t sure. You turn your smile and magnified gaze at him, “What about you?”

Eddie startles only slightly. He begins to peek over his shoulder as if there’s somebody else in the mostly deserted store that you could be talking to. What about him?

“Oh, I don’t need anything. I just came here with–” He gestures vaguely in the direction that the boys wandered off to. “The little shits that left me in the dust.” 

You bark out a laugh, a small smile settling on your lips. “It’s sweet of you to help them out.”

Eddie only blushes in response, murmuring a quiet it’s nothing, scratching the back of his neck like he might find a switch that’ll make him remember how to talk like a normal human being.   

“Well, if you change your mind, let me know.”

You pick up a clipboard and a pen and start leisurely strolling down the decor aisle, making inconsequential markings on the paper. Whenever you come across gaps in the shelves you reach back into them, pulling the products to the front edge with a concentration that is quite adorable. 

He’s definitely staring by now. Feigning interest in a skull-shaped candy bowl, Eddie scrambles for something, anything to keep the conversation going. “I’m surprised you’re not busier.”

“You just missed the afternoon rush.” You say, straightening a pair of plastic tarantulas that have gone askew. “Not too many people came today, though. I guess they realized that it’s so close to the holiday that the shelves would be picked over.”

“Really?”

You shrug, “I think by October 30th, most people figure if they’re gonna dress up, they’d rather just pull together something from their closets than spend money. We’re actually busier the day after Halloween because everything gets marked down and people want cheap candy.”

“Makes sense.” He nods. “So, I take it you’re a big fan of Halloween?”

Your smile is apprehensive as if you’re not sure if he’s making fun of you. Your fingers brush the brim of the witch’s hat. “What gave me away?” 

He falls into step beside you, clasping his hands behind his back and puffing out his chest. “I just had a feeling.” Then, feeling much braver than usual, he adds, “I like your outfit.”

You look at him again, clutching the clipboard to your chest. For once, your eyes are leaning more towards bug-eyed. The black velvet dress has draped sleeves and a skirt that swishes with every step. Orange and black striped tights protect your legs from the inevitable chill that comes with October in Indiana. “You do?” 

“I do.” He insists, “It totally adds to the magical vibe. If you told me that you were an actual witch and this was just something you do to pass the time I’d one hundred percent believe you.” 

All apprehension has slipped off your face, replaced by a genuine smile that cracks open his chest. “Thanks…” You trail off.

“Eddie.” He supplies. 

“Well thank you, Eddie. I’d tell you my name but I’m guessing I don’t have to.” You say, rubbing the plastic name plate on your chest. 

Eddie does know your name, but it isn’t because of your name tag. He was far too proud to ask around for your name, and far too afraid of rejection to ask you himself. He’d been lucky enough to get a library book right after you. He’d pulled the weathered paper from the slip, seen your name at the bottom of the checkout card, traced the loopy letters with the pad of his fingers. It had definitely been more than a little pathetic. 

Eddie coughs, clearing his throat, trying to maintain any semblance of nonchalance. “Do you have any plans for Halloween?” 

Your face slowly lifts from the clipboard, twirling your pen between swift fingers polished in a deep burgundy. Directing your gaze at him, you peer through dark lashes and Eddie’s never been more thankful for the inventor of coke bottle glasses. The magnification allows him to see the spark of intrigue dancing across your pupils. 

“I was just gonna stay home. Maybe help my mom pass out candy.” The implication of the last sentence seems to hit you. You look down again, scrunching up your nose. Eddie finds it endearing how your first instinct is honesty rather than anything else. 

“Cool. That’s cool,” Eddie says in a manner that is decidedly uncool. He fiddles with his rings before shoving his hands into his pockets. “Actually, I was wondering if—” 

Suddenly, Eddie feels stupid for getting lost in your eyes and not paying attention to his surroundings. Maybe then he would’ve noticed how the linoleum got ever so slightly softer under the soles of worn-out boots. He would’ve seen the cloaked figure looming in the alcove, waiting for some unwitting soul to step on the pressure plate.

Unfortunately, Eddie did not see any of those things. The poltergeist, or ghost, or whatever the fuck it is swings out. He stumbles backward, releasing a shriek that is so high-pitched, that he wonders if he should start tapping into his upper range. Maybe it would add more texture to Corroded Coffin’s Tuesday night sets. 

Instinctively, his arms fly backward, as if to protect you. He stumbles right into you, and he’s sure that if you didn’t grab his waist from behind, you would’ve fallen right over. Unfortunately, the movement has both of you careening back into a shelf, sending bags of overpriced candy and shitty Halloween decorations tumbling to the ground in a cascade of all things creepy and corny. He quickly spins around.

“Shit, are you–”

“I’m so sorry!” 

“I should’ve warned you–”

At that moment, chests heaving and hearts racing, you both seem to realize that your hands are still grazing Eddie’s waist. You spring apart, scrambling to clean up the display, haphazardly grabbing the fallen items and placing them back in their rightful places on the shelves. Among them is your hat, another casualty of the calamity. 

“I should’ve warned you,” You say again, slightly out of breath. “That thing nearly scares me to death every other day.” 

“It’s fine. I should’ve paid attention to where I was walking. It just added to the whole spooktacular experience.” He picks up the hat from the floor, dusting it off. “I think this belongs to you.” 

You give a bashful smile, but instead of putting the accessory in your outstretched hand, he gingerly places it on top of your head. Your glasses have slid down your nose from bending over to clean up his mess, and his thumbs gently push the joints of the frames until they’re sitting in their rightful place. 

“There,” He punctuates his statement with a resolute tug on your hat, making sure it’s securely on your head. “Perfect.”

You preen at him, eyes sparkling, before you cast them down at the floor. Dustin comes running around the corner, closely followed by Mike and Lucas. All of them are carrying armfuls of miscellaneous Halloween supplies, obviously alarmed at the clamor, but not alarmed enough that they didn’t take their sweet time coming from the opposite end of the store. Eddie takes advantage of your bashfulness and distinctly shoots them a look that says get the hell out of here. Dustin’s eyes dart between the two of you before they widen and his mouth forms a small oh. He sends Eddie an exaggerated wink, walking backward in order to not interrupt the private moment, dragging his two friends along with him.

“Thanks,” You smile at him. “For protecting me. I know who to bring with me if I ever want to walk through a haunted house.” 

He gives a lopsided grin, “My pleasure.”

“Ahem.” You clear your throat, “Anyways, what are your plans for Halloween?”

This is it. This is the moment that Eddie has been waiting for since he put down his guitar and his notebook and opened the trailer door. 

“That depends.” He clasps his hands behind his back, jutting his chin up in the air. “Are you working tomorrow?”

“I get off at four.” 

“The Hawk is doing this continuous horror movie marathon. Maybe you would want to go?” Eddie’s fingers are practically vibrating with excitement. He nearly forgets the most important part. “With me? I mean— Only if you like horror movies, I just figured because I’ve seen you walking around with that Stephen King novel. NOT that I’ve been watching you or anything!”

You let out a small giggle. The fact that you’re laughing and smiling is a good sign, even if it is slightly at his expense. He decides to lean into self-deprecation, hoping it’ll seem more charming than desperate. 

“I’d say I don’t scare easily, but I think we’d both know that’s a lie by now.”

You scribble something near the bottom of the paper on the clipboard, delicately folding it and ripping it off before placing it in Eddie’s palm. 

“Well, I’ve heard horror movies are less scary if you have someone to hold your hand.”

It doesn’t even matter that a ghost animatronic essentially acted as his wingman. The note with your number on it sits heavily in his pocket, thumb tracing over looped ink. Even though it’s cold as shit, he embarrassed himself, and signs of the spooky season decorate every corner, Eddie has a smile that rivals even the best of jack-o-lanterns. 

As Eddie turns off towards the dirt path that leads to Forrest Hills Trailer Park, the smile still hasn’t faded. 

For once, the streets of Hawkins seem a little less haunted. 

likes are appreciated, comments and reblogs are cherished ♥️

[sagechanoafterdark]

Shoot Your Shot, Cupid

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader Word Count: 3,770 Warnings: mature language, unbeata'd, soft Bucky, lets assume Sam set him up for this one, female coded reader, happy ending because we all deserve it, TIME SKIIIIIP, best friend with good intentions that shows up for one job and then disappears, speed dating, one obnoxious man, all the soft feelings.

Hello Kittens, and Happy Valentine's Day. It's been a while since I wrote... well anything and I was working on this for a couple of months but I think it's come all together now. Hope you enjoy it!

This couldn’t get much worse.

Tricked by your best friend.

Nay, betrayed.  

By someone you implicitly trusted.

There would be no forgiving this.

Never, not ever.

The dinner and drinks invitation a few days before the start of February was met with trepidation on your part. All Christmas season you’d feigned interest as Mellony, your best friend, thrust every single co-worker, neighbor, and wait staff at you to find you someone to share the holiday with.

You couldn’t blame her. After all, Mellony was blissfully happy with her fiancée and only wanted the same for you.

All that you could forgive.

But this?

This was a complete and utter betrayal.

A deep and unimpressed frown marred your face as Mellony took the sticky name tag off the table with her perfectly manicured nails. Peeling the back with an ear-to-ear grin and pressed it against your chest. “There,” she exclaimed with joy, lacing her fingers together. “Now you’re all set.”

Looking down at the beautifully scrawled letters framed by little hearts you couldn’t help but curl your lip and whine, “Mel, you promised.”

The blond snorted and rolled her enormous puppy dog eyes, “I never promised anything.” Looping her arm through yours she practically began to drag you through the convention center doors and past the sign that sealed your fate.

Cupids Bow Speed Dating Event.

“Yes, you did,” you reaffirmed. Glancing around the room packed full of men and women in a combination of sweaters, suits, and cocktail dresses. “You promised not to try and set me up with anyone again.”

“This is my speed dating event. It doesn’t count.”

“I can assure you it does.”

“Nooooo,” she practically sang, turning around on her heel with that adorable mischievous smile of hers. “I promised that I wouldn’t set you up with anyone I knew. Everyone here was vetted by my team. I don't know any of these people.”

Grumbling she began tugging you towards the stage as intro music began to play softly from the DJ booth. Mellony paused, gripping your hand tight and looking down at you as the DJ introduced her, “Please, stay? I just want you to find someone.”

“Mel,” you hissed with disapproval. “I don’t need to find someone.”

Whether or not she heard you was unclear as the music swelled and Mellony put on her famous razzle dazzle smile and waved at everyone as she took the microphone and the presentation began. Your eyes swung to the crowd of people, more than three dozen people silhouetted against the stage lights and it made you shiver.

This was going to be a disaster.

Twenty minutes later your mind was glazed over with the audacity of men.

With every new ding of the bell, you found yourself becoming more annoyed. The match-making event progressed easily. People were divided into groups based on results from a questionnaire, something you distinctly remember Mel presenting to you as a fun Cosmo quiz, while one group remained seated the others rotated around the room.

By some stroke of luck, you were one of the people destined to sit. But that also meant that total strangers would be coming to your table to chat with you.

In all your years of singledom,  you’d thought you’d heard it all. Too fat. Too loud. Too smart. Too opinionated. Those were old hat by now, and you weren’t immune to the bitter words from unimportant people.

“I suppose you’re an attractive woman,” the suit across from you said thoughtfully. His eyes never met yours, instead looking around the room likely for the next victim of his charm. “But I’m not really into your hair color. How would you feel about dying it?”

The question hung in the air as you waited for the man to look back at you. When his beady eyes returned to your face you couldn’t hide the disbelief, waving your hand in the air with an icy finality, “Absolutely not. You can go.”

He didn’t wait. Standing so quickly the chair scraped against the floor as he haughtily walked towards the bar. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you pulled out your phone and began to scroll social media waiting for the next bell in fifteen minutes.

Not the wildest thing you’d ever heard, but the gall of some people astounded even you sometimes. This also wasn’t the first event you’d been to that Mel had put on, you’d come to one or two as she’d begun her match-making service so you knew the ins and outs pretty well. But getting the same questions over and over was getting old fast.

What do you do for a living?

Where are you from?

What’s your family like?

What’s your perfect date idea?

BOR-ING!

Just once you’d like someone to ask you a real question, something thoughtful instead of the surface questions you’d find on social media.

You couldn’t believe you wore your favorite dress for this nonsense.

The bell dinged once again and the shadow of a new man sat in front of you.

“Hi.”

“Hello,” you said not looking up from the device in your hand.

“Come here often?”

“To a dating event? No,” the words were flowing out of your mouth easily. Canned responses for canned questions.

There was a heavy pause, “You seem bored.”

“That’s because I am.”

A muted scoff came from the other side of the table, “What would make it more interesting then?”

A long sigh escaped you as you continued scrolling on your phone, “If someone would ask me a question of substance, maybe I would give them a chance for conversation.”

Again a long stretching silence from the other side and you had to resist rolling your eyes.

“Alright,” he rumbled, leaning back against his chair. “Then what’s one gift you always wish you’d gotten, but never did?”

That had your thumb pausing on the endless scrolling you were doing. Finally, your gaze flicked up and your brain stopped working for a brief moment as you took in the disgustingly attractive man sitting your opposite.

Coffee color hair, and a chiseled jaw dotted with a five o’clock shadow would be enough to make even the most choosy of a woman’s breath catch. He was wearing a bulky leather jacket in a building that was pushing 80 degrees, which was odd but not overly strange.

But oddly enough you felt yourself getting drawn in. Not by his cheekbones, the cut of his jaw, the dimple in his chin, or even the semi-scowl he wore.

No, it was his eyes. Bright blue soulful eyes, that sparkled a little as he sat across the table from you. Eyes that told a story all their own and drew you out of your scrolling for the first time that night.

Pursing your lips slightly you thought, “Hmm, I’d have to say it’s a puppy.”

His eyebrow arched slightly, clearly surprised by your answer, “A puppy?”

“Sure,” you said with a slight shrug. “A puppy is something I’ve always wanted but never gotten as a gift from anyone other than myself.”

“What kind of puppy?”

“Oh I don’t have a preferred breed,” you informed, tilting your head a little at the odd conversation. “But as a child, it was what I asked for every year as a present. But I never got one.”

His lips turned up in a half smile and you thought you were going to melt in your seat, “Asking for one every year and not getting one, sounds a little disappointing. Was that just a Christmas thing?”

“Nah,” you laughed a little, fingers picking at a little piece of lint on the edge of your dress. “Christmas, birthdays, Easter didn’t matter. If gifts were being given, it was at the top of my list. Every year I’d be running to the tree and picking up presents, looking for one big enough. It’s a running joke with my friends that I’d marry the first man to give me a puppy for Christmas.”

A brisk laugh escaped him, his lips pulled into a charming smile that had nervous butterflies leap up in your chest. “A puppy for Christmas,” he rumbled thoughtfully. “I’ll have to remember that.”

The response made goosebumps prickle along your skin and you held back a shiver, wetting your suddenly dry lips, “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What’s a gift you always wanted but didn’t get,” you paused briefly a coy smile stretching your lips.

His smile turned into a smirk as he once again leaned back in his chair, blue eyes darting back and forth over your face as he thought about it. It was going well, your impish smile growing along with his own. That is until his smile began to fall, bright blue gaze darting a little more frantically over your face before he licked his lips and an unexpected tremor sounded in his voice, “I think, I think it was a sled.”

“A sled,” you asked, leaning forward a little in intrigue. “Like a big plastic one with the handles? Oh no, I got it you’re definitely an inflatable snow tube kind of guy.”

A balk of laughter sounded from him, making hidden laugh lines appear at the corner of his eyes as they brightened with your playful banter. “Nah,” he exclaimed, waving a hand. “More like a wood and metal one. It had bright red skis and a wooden seat top. That sled was all I wanted as a kid.”

An amused giggle slipped from you, “I had a wagon kind of like that as a kid, it was a radio flyer.”

His fingers snapped as he pointed at you with a little bit of excitement, “That’s it! A Radio Flyer sled, with a rope handle and foot steering bar. Though I don’t think I’d ever get one now. I’m a little too old to go sledding down a hill.”

“Age is all about perspective.”

He snorted, “Tell that to my driver's license.”

Genuine laughter bubbled up from inside of you as you leaned forward in your seat, a teasing retort on your lips. Before you could speak, Mellony rang her little handbell and people began to switch places again. But your blue-eyed stranger lingered at your table.

“Talk to you again?”

He sounded, hopeful. “Yeah,” you croaked out pathetically. “Talk to you again.”

You watched as he stood from your table and made his way across the room to his next table while another man took his place at your own. A feeling of disappointment swelled as you lost sight of him in the crowd of people, the feeling intensifying as this new man briefly introduced themselves before launching into a long Tinder-level introduction.

Two more men sat at your table, barely holding your interest outside of normal pleasantries before Mel rang her handbell in rapid succession. “Alright everyone that’s the first round,” she called from her place at the podium. “We’re going to break for thirty minutes. There are hors d'oeuvres and refreshments at the bar. Please feel free to mingle!”

The room of people began to stand and mill around as an uproar of chatter began. Your eyes picked out a couple of men from your group, pairing up with others and heading to the bar. Cordial smiles turned into pleasant touches and sweetheart eyes as they went.

The Cupids Bow Dating Event was a success and you couldn’t help but feel the swell of pride for your friend.

“Hey, Sourpuss,” Melody greeted, looping her arm through yours. “You having fun yet?”

Your mind drifted back to your blue-eyed stranger, “A little.”

“Well, I don’t know if you know this. But the point of speed dating is to, you know, find a date. I was watching you, and you gotta talk to more than one person,” she sassed.

Your mouth turned down to a frown for a brief moment, “I talked to someone.”

“Oh yeah? What was his name.”

Your mouth opened and closed a couple of times as you realized quickly you’d never even got Mr. Blue-Eyes name, “Shit.”

“What?”

“I didn’t even get Mr. Blue-Eyes name!”

“It’s Bucky.”

Turning around there stood Mr. Blue-Eyes himself, err… you meant Bucky. There was no doubt your embarrassment showed on your face, but the little nervous laugh that slipped out sealed the deal.

Bucky smiled at you, “That is if it’s me you were talking about?”

Wetting your lips you shifted, suddenly nervous before meeting friendly blue eyes, “Yeah,” you squeaked before clearing your throat. “I mean, yes. I’m sorry I missed your name when we talked.”

He was nodding for a brief moment, his eyes darting over towards the bar before taking a few steps closer to you and leaning down. “There’s a restaurant down the street. They’ve got pretty good sushi. You want to get the hell out of here?”

“Oh, my god yes!” The tips of your ears felt hot as you wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole but Bucky didn’t seem to notice your embarrassment. Instead, he offered up his right arm and you looped yours into it without hesitation.

Melody’s brow shot up out of surprise, “B-but that was only the first round! There are still two more.”

“I don’t think we need a round two,” Bucky said, the same charming smile pulling at the corner of his mouth and making his eyes crinkle.

“Yeah,” you laughed, in a teasing tone. “This round just might go to Cupid after all.”

Three years later.

Lights twinkled in the living room of your apartment, it was god awful early and you’d carefully planned today. Christmas day and you’d been waiting for this moment for two years now. Quickly and quietly you snuck out of the bedroom where Bucky lay wrapped up in the blankets and made your way to the front closet.

It was hard being sneaky when your boyfriend was a super spy. But after a lot of careful planning, misdirections, and a lot of help from Sam, you’d managed to do it and Bucky was none the wiser.

Tiptoeing towards the hall closet that Bucky never used you opened the squeaky hinged door in just the way so it made no noise. Reaching blindly into the black of the closet you felt around, past the dozen unused coats, jackets, scarves, and hats your hand met the back of the closet wall. Sliding quietly until your fingers brushed the cold metal you were looking for.

Jackpot.

Fingers wrapped around your prize as you gave a firm but gentle tug. A pristine, adult-sized, bright red and creamy wood seat Flex Flyer sled emerged complete with an enormous red bow.

Stifling a giggle you set it down.

“What are you doing?”

A shriek tore out of your throat as you jumped what felt like twenty feet in the air.

“James Barnes,” you scolded, heart beating a million miles an hour. “What have I said about sneaking up on me?”

“You were being sneaky first,” he said, brows drawn together as he tried to look around you. “What you hiding doll face?”

“Nothing!” You lied, spreading your arms and legs to hide your surprise gift.

It was at that moment you heard the vibration from Bucky’s phone clutched in his hand, the man tried to not look sheepish as he not so covertly pressed the silence button.

Suspicion immediately filled you, “Bucky? What are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” He shot back, his brow knits in suspicion.

It was a standoff.

The two of you staring each other down in the dark of the hallway in your matching Christmas pajamas. Someone knocking on the front door startled you both before Bucky cursed under his breath, pointing at you, “Don’t follow me.”

His instruction surprised you as he brushed past you in the small hallway. You scoffed under your breath, “You’re in your PJ’s Buck, how far are you going?”

Bucky paused before going around the corner, “I mean it.” There was another soft but hurried knock and he cursed before disappearing.

A tisk of disapproval escaped you, but urgency filled your movements the second he was out of sight. Hands shaking slightly you hurried, pulling the sled out from the closet with as much silence as you could muster before dashing the Christmas tree. Stuffing the sled behind the tree, a few bulbs swinging back and forth as you fumbled to fluff the crumpled bow on Bucky’s surprise.

A cacophony of hushed grumbles and whispers came from the front door, you could have sworn you heard Sam as the door closed with a thunk and the lock turned. In a matter of seconds Bucky was coming around the corner again, an enormous gold box gripped in his hands affixed with a brilliant glittering green bow.

It was clear that Bucky didn’t see you immediately as he juggled the wobbly box and tried to remain quiet as he did so.

“Whatcha, got there?”

Bucky startled, socked feet skidding to a halt just at the corner of the couch as the box wobbled in his hands again. Frustrated and accusatory blue eyes narrowed, “What are you doing in here?” He asked in a hushed whisper.

“What are you doing in here?”

“You better not be shaking presents.”

“Please,” you scoffed. “I’ll have you know I haven’t shaken a present since I was ten. What’s in the box, Jamie?”

Bucky flinched a little, his one weakness was when you called him Jamie. His shoulders sagged a little as his grip on the box tightened, “This was supposed to be a surprise.”

“Oh I’m surprised,” you said with a laugh. The mantle clock began to ding for the early morning hour. Five AM came so early now. “Do you want to open our gifts now?”

Bucky pursed his lips, body jerking as the box tried to throw itself from his hands. “I think now is best.”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the prospect of what the box could contain. But your eyes flitted over to the space behind the tree where you’d stuffed Bucky’s surprise and the anxious feeling grew tenfold as you thought about the question you were going to ask him once he’d seen it.

Clearing his throat Bucky nodded towards the Christmas tree and the traditional present opening space. Dutifully you sat down in the chair, eyes darting over behind the tree to where your gift sat. “Um, mine's not wrapped.”

“That’s alright,” he said, setting the box at your feet as it rattled all on its own now that it was on the floor. “Where is mine and we’ll do them on the count of three.”

“Alright,” you agreed, fingers tapping the edges of your box. “Yours is behind the tree.”

You saw his eyes dart over to the tree and then back down to you, “On three.”

“Alright,” you agreed, fingers poised to rip at the bow on top of the gift. “One.”

“Two,” Bucky echoed, taking a step closer to the tree.

“Three!”

Your fingers began tearing at the bow on top of the gift box as it rattled against the floor. Pushing back the loose gold paper and terrible tape job before, POP!

Two of the most adorable brown eyes you’d ever seen stared up at you. You were stunned for a moment, staring down at the cutest little paws and wet nose you’d ever laid your eyes on.

“OHMYGODAPUPPY!!”

The shrieking sob spilled past your lips as you pulled the squirming pup into your arms, its tiny tongue licking and sniffing all over your face and mouth. Tears spilled from your eyes as the little bundle in your arms wiggled, squirmed, and kissed your face everywhere; its bottom wiggling so much they tumbled out of your arms and into your lap.

“Oh my god,” you blubbered, holding the precious little one to you. “Bucky! He’s so cute. Oh, it’s a she. She’s so cute, James. Oh god! Oh my god, I love her so much. I can't—I can’t believe this! This is real right? Do I get to keep her? Bucky?”

Looking up Bucky was angled away from you, the lights of the Christmas tree gleaming off of his arm as he held onto his new sled. His fingers found the tag as he stared at it in the dim lighting. 

He sniffled briefly before he began to read, “Roses are red, violets are blue, do me the—the honor—the honor of spending my life with you?”

Teary blue eyes turned towards you as you held the squirming puppy in your arms. “Doll,” he squeaked out with a sniffle as a few tears began to slip. “You…”

Looking up at him from your seat you reached into the side table drawer pulled out a distinctive black ring box and opened it. Inside, a single simple gold band that had Bucky’s breath catching.

“Will you,” you croaked out, clearing your throat a little more and juggling your new bundle of joy in your arms. “Will you marry me, James Buchanan Barns?”

A laugh escaped Bucky as he lowered the sled to the floor, and then himself. Bucky knelt before you, down on one knee, and reached forward towards the little puppy squirming in your arms. His fingers brushed against a tiny piece of string attached to the bow, you’d missed it but he lifted the dangling object for your inspection. A beautiful golden ring with what had to be the most enormous diamond you’d ever seen.

Your shocked watery gaze met Bucky’s impossibly blue eyes, “Only if you say yes too.”

The puppy leaped down from your lap, content to explore their new apartment as you slid down and onto Bucky’s lap. Arms wrapping around his shoulders and kissing him harder than you ever had before. Warmth blossomed in your chest as Bucky’s lips parted briefly with a light moan, kissing one another with dizzying urgency.

Gasping for air the two of you parted briefly, planting pecking kisses against one another lips.

“Is that a yes,” he husked, his hands sliding up and down your back.

“Yes, it’s a yes, Jamie.”

Grinning up at you, Bucky cradled you against him, “I didn’t know if you’d say yes.”

 “Of course I’d say yes,” you whispered, holding onto him tightly. “After all,  you did get me that puppy I’ve always wanted.”

A laugh escaped Bucky as he held you tightly and buried his face against your chest, his shoulders shaking in what could only be a relief, “Fuck, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Blue-Eyes.”

END

[stormsbourne]

alright listen

I know we're all having an evaluation of how eagerly we believe people who present with even the slightest air of authority and frankly good! we all need to be less credulous of people on the internet who tell lies.

but I think there are also other lessons to learn from james somerton. namely about his raging and blatant misogyny, which I've often seen similar forms of in fandom and on this specific site. to paraphrase bombs himself in the ctrl alt del video, if you see shitty behavior within your sphere, it's important to recognize it and try to fix it instead of rejecting it and asserting that no REAL members of the ingroup are like that. and nerds have a misogyny problem. including tumblr. so let's reckon with it.

do you append "white" or "straight" to your comments about women even when those things have little to do with the topic being discussed, just to make your comments seem more legit? (and no, m/m shipping discourse does not give you a ticket to say it's all straight women -- it's fictional characters, james.) do you often theorize about how (hurriedly appended "straight/white/cis") women are responsible for a problem in fandom, nay, all problems in fandom? have you made up a guy based on a single post that annoyed you and extrapolated to say that all (appended signifier to make it ok) women in fandom are like that? do you see women as uniquely fetishizing, uniquely stupid about politics or social issues, uniquely annoying to talk to? do you assume when there's an issue, even a real one and not the fake ones james made up, that a woman is probably at the root of it?

all of this still applies to you if you're a woman. it also applies if you're gay or a person of color or trans. being an oppressed group doesn't mean you are immune from sexism, and sexism is still rampant in everyday life for pretty much everyone.

your shipping and fandom discourse isn't immune from this. no, I'm not talking about how not enough people like yuri. I'm talking about how women who like "bad" ships like r*ylo or whatever are seen as open targets for harassment. how women who are into "bad/problematic" fandoms are seen as idiots and enablers who deserve what they get. how there's an attitude that women who like shitty bad porn must think it's good, must be too stupid to know better, and must need to be handheld and taught about good, acceptable fiction. I've already talked a lot about tumblr's complete refusal to admit that fujoshi wasn't a term coined by delicate japanese mlm to complain about evil women (and I wonder if james contributed to that idiotic concept), but the way I've seen people assert that women into m/m must be straight, must be stupid, must be lying about their identities, must be hurting gay men in real life in addition to wanting some anime boys to kiss ...

I've seen how some of you people talk about amb*r h*ard, is all I'm saying, and I've seen what you've tried to do to dozens of female creatives that, for some reason, you've decided deserve to be taken down or taught a lesson. I've seen the descriptions you use. shrieking, bitchy, whiny, uppity, shrewish, karen (don't get me started on how karen has been turned into an easy excuse for misogyny). you're not bystanders to what james did and is doing, you're a part of it. sure, you might not have the nazi fetish, but you've said things about women that put somerton to shame.

just a thing to keep in mind while the plagiarism discourse is ongoing. somerton is a shithead for many reasons but this is one that's important to remember because I think people often treat misogyny like a lesser crime, a smaller concern, and it's not. just think of what laws are passing and what views popular movements have of women and then, for one moment, consider that maybe your reflexive need to blame women or pick them apart might have been influenced by the Society In Which We Live.

[the-fiction-witch]

Little Princess

Media - Rings Of Power Character - Elrond Couple - Elrond X Reader Reader - Y/n (Princess of Elves, daughter of Gil-Galad) Rating - 18 + nudity/ virginity/ kissing/ breast play/ fingering/ pinv/ full sex/ raw sex/ Word Count - 3197

Elrond paced his chambers in the city of Lindon. Doing his best to think over this impossible choice. To break his oath to one of his most dear friends and give hope to all his people, or to keep his oath and be complacent in the death of many as well as himself. The king asked so much but it was not without its matter.

Suddenly the door to Elronds chambers knocked rather hurriedly,

"Come in," he said, his attention breaking from his thoughts to look at the door, his eyes looking curious at the hurry of the knock

the door opened and closed as quickly, The young princess Y/n, daughter of high king Gil-galad stood before him. Her hair was put up with a long hairpin, her eyes puffy from tears, wearing a long sage green gown laced down her front,

"Herald Elrond. I pray I am not interrupting but ... I must speak with you. On a matter, I find most urgent'

Elrond's expression softened as he saw the young woman, looking at her with a look of concern and care. "You are not interrupting princess. I am always available to speak. What is the matter that is so urgent?"

"I have heard of what my father asks of you. I find it... A matter of such cruelty. Such ruthless ambition has blinded him to care. That he asks this of you. To place the fate of all our race on your shoulders, those same shoulders he has already burdened with so much... It... It makes me weep why he asks... Nay demands. You break this oath. To your friend of so many decades."

Elrond's expression darkened as she mentioned the demand, sighing as he sat on the edge of his bed, his hand rubbing his temple "It is a... A heavy ask of me. An impossible choice, one I do not think I can make. But what do you want me to do little princess? I cannot defy the king. I owe much of my life to him."

"I owe him my whole life and yet I still would defy him in this moment. Your word is your law and what is any of our immortal lives at the price of breaking such oaths of trust and loyalty." She explained "If you break this oath... You will lose your beloved kin in Durin. Lose the faith of all dwarves for generations to come. Sour the good word of elves and the Valar themselves. Please... I know this weighs on you herald Elrond, but do not bear this alone."

Elrond sat silent as the princess gave her words, his expression conflicted. He knew she spoke the truth, that the price of breaking his honour was great. But to break it he would bring hope to his people. After a moment of silence, he let out a weary sigh, looking up at the princess sadly. "What do you think I should do little one? What would you do in my place if it came to it?"

"... I would slap my father for making such a request," she chuckled, "and then I would set my wisest to the task of the tree. Send elves I trust to every kingdom that holds more than ten souls. And I would beg them for their words and try everything that could be done. There must be another way beyond this... Ore my father lusts for so desperately.”

Elrond chuckled slightly at her comment, his expression showing a hint of amusement at how quickly she answered, her ideas certainly weren't unwise. He crossed his arms as he hummed in thought "That is not a bad idea, my little princess, though I'm not sure the king would take too kindly to you slapping him" he joked

"In this matter he deserves it. When he told me what he asked of you I almost did so myself."

Elrond laughed softly at the idea of his little princess slapping the king, his hand raising to his mouth to contain it secretly, "He would have your hand for that, my princess. But that is not necessary" he said, "I will do what you suggested, I will send word to all of the elven realms and see what I can do"

"it was necessary." She said firmly "he demands you break an oath, sour your name, dirty your hands and not his own." She explained

Elrond's smile faded at her firm and harsh tone, his expression turning slightly sombre as he nodded his head in agreement. "you're right, my princess. It is not right of him to demand this of me, to force me to break my honour. He should not use my loyalty against me like this. You are a lot more insightful than I give you credit for"

she softly smiled "... I wish I could do more. I know my words provide little comfort in this matter." She sighed "but... I do have another comfort I may offer?"

Elrond returned her soft smile, his eyes looking curious at her words. He chuckled slightly and raised a brow "and now you have piqued my curiosity. What is this other comfort you wish to offer me?"

she softly blushed before she stepped back slightly away from him, "My father asks of you an impossible task. To break an oath sworn to your greatest friend. To soil your honour and dirty your hands in a matter he wishes to wash his own off." She explained pulling the long pin from her hair and letting her hair fall loose "And I offer you, a turn of stone. An eye for an eye. A broken oath for a broken oath" she said unlacing the gown, "in comfort for my father's demand for you to break your oath to prince Durin. I shall break in turn an oath to my father." She said letting her dress pool at her feet standing innocently completely naked, "and allow myself to have my own honour broken by you."

Elrond watched her as she stripped down, his eyes widening in surprise at her words and her actions, not having expected this at all. He stared at her in silence for a few moments, his heart racing and all although he did not intend it his body hardening at the meer sight of her like this, he was speechless, before finally gathering his words and speaking "My little princess... You would... You would have me stain your honour? That is most noble... And most foolish" he stood up from the bed, moving towards her. He looked into her eyes, a mix of concern and care in his gaze. He placed a gentle hand on her cheek, gently caressing it with his thumb "My sweet little princess, are you sure this is what you want to do? To throw away your honour at the price of mine own?"

"I am sure." She whispered

he let out a weary sigh, his expression soft, he looked at her for a few moments, the conflict clear within his eyes, his mind in turmoil. He cared for the princess, he had for a long while. She was young, innocent, carefree, and he sought to protect her honour. Yet here she was, willing to throw it away. His heart couldn’t say no. "Very well... If you are sure, my little princess”

she nodded Blushing softly her lips parted and her eyes on his,

he let his eyes roam over her form, taking in the sight of her. An ethereal beauty that he couldn’t tear his eyes away from, his hand gently brushing down from her cheek and down her neck, onto her shoulder, and then along the side of her body "You are certain, my princess? Once this is done, it cannot be undone”

"I am certain." She whispered moving to her tiptoes to press her lips to his

his eyes widened slightly before gently closing as her lips met his, his other hand moving to the small of her back, gently holding her in place against his body as he kissed her back. He could feel his heart speeding up as he enjoyed the feeling of her lips against his, his mind overwhelmed with the sensation. After a moment, his tongue gently moved against her lower lip, gently asking for entrance

she happily parted her lips for him and softly moaned into the kiss

he let out a soft moan of his own as her lips parted for him, his tongue slipping into her mouth and gently exploring the soft, wet cavern. His free hand moved from her back and up to the nape of her neck, gently holding her head in place as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing gently against hers as he felt his self-control waver

he broke the kiss, pulling back slightly to catch his breath, his breathing shallow and eyes darkened. He kept her body flush against his own as he looked down at her, his heart racing and his body heating "Are you still sure of this, little princess?" he asked, his voice low and gruff. He couldn’t deny the need he felt, the desire to take her here and now against the wall. But he would never do anything without her consent.

she giggled and nodded excitedly jumping onto his bed and hooking her index finger to summon him to bed with her.

he laughed slightly at her little command, finding her adorable while also finding her immensely sexy, especially now with her lying on his bed. He approached her, crawling onto the bed and positioning himself over her. He looked down at her with a look of want and need in his eyes, his body pressing gently against hers as he knelt between her legs. "You are far too impatient for one so young, little princess"

"Then surely... You must be even more impatient than I?" She teased

he chuckled and lowered his head down, until his lips were nearly touching her ear, his breath hot against her skin as he spoke in whispers "Oh, you have no idea how impatient you've made me, little one... I'm trying to stay in control, but you've made it rather difficult" his hands moved down her body, gently caressing her curves as he spoke. he left a trail of soft kisses down her neck as he moved down slowly, savoring each one. He left a soft kiss on her collarbone, then her chest, and then her ribs, his tongue leaving a wet trail as it moved over her skin. He gently nipped and sucked at her skin, leaving soft marks in his wake

she gasped and whimpered twisting her fingers in his hair innocently keeping her knees together

he moved his hands down and gently placed them on her knees, gently moving them apart as he continued his kisses further down her body. He glanced up at her from between her legs and smirked, his eyes darkened with desire "No need to keep them together, little one... I'll take care of you" he murmured before gently nipping at her thighs, leaving more little marks on her pale skin

she softly Giggled clearly a little nervous but excited still,

he could feel the nervous energy radiating off her, a mixture of excitement and inexperience. He could only imagine this was the first time she'd done anything like this, making him pause his actions. He looked back up at her, his expression softened to one of care and comfort, his hands moving to pull off his clothes, leaving him bare to her eyes, "If you become uncomfortable at any time, you need only tell me, and I will stop." he said, his voice gentle and soft

"I will, I promise." She cooed "but you need not stop, my darling."

he returned the smile as she spoke, his heart fluttering at the sweet name she called him. He chuckled a bit before his expression darkened with desire again, his eyes looking up at her as he spoke "You are an absolute treasure, my princess, with your little commands and sweet words" he moved his hands up stroking her thighs his eyes watching her expression to gage her comfort level, his mind awash in thought. He wanted her so badly that he could hardly control himself. Yet he wanted to be gentle and caring with her, to make sure he didn't overstep her comfort level. His eyes looked at her bare form, admiring the sight before him her own eyes looking back with the same admiration. his gaze roamed over her body, drinking in every curve and contour, his eyes lingering on the delicate folds of her sex. He felt a shiver run down his spine as he took in the sight before him, his desire for her growing with each passing moment. Reaching out, he gently brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, “You're so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice low and husky, full of emotion. “I've been wanting to see you like this for what feels like an eternity.” He leaned in close, his lips brushing against hers in a soft kiss, the touch sending sparks flying through her body.

she softly blushed her legs trembling with excitement, "as have I."

His mouth lingered on hers, savouring the taste of her lips, his tongue dipping inside to dance with hers. He felt her tremble beneath him, and a surge of possessiveness ran through him, but he pushed it aside, focusing instead on the sensations coursing through his own body. As they broke apart for air, he smiled down at her, his eyes burning with desire “My love,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the pounding of their hearts. “Let me show you what I've been waiting for.” He reached out his hand closing around the base of his cock, giving it a slow stroke as he gazed at her.

she gasped and whimpered slightly in fear at the sight,

Her reaction sparked something primal within him, and he felt a growl rise up in his throat. But he suppressed it, not wanting to scare her further. Instead, he reached out and gently cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of her jaw “It's okay,” he whispered, his voice soothing. “I'm not going to hurt you. I promise.” He leaned in close, his nose brushing against hers as he spoke. His warm breath danced across her skin, “Trust me,” he urged, his eyes locked on hers. “I want to pleasure you, not frighten you.”

"I trust you... I... I fear you are to big for me." She blushed

A low rumble of amusement escaped his chest as he heard her words, and he couldn't help but chuckle at the thought. He gently pulled back from her, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled “Oh, my little princess,” he teased, his voice dripping with affection “You worry too much about size. It's not about being big enough, it's about fitting together.” He leaned in close once more, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered “I'll take care of you,” His hot breath as he continued to whisper in her ear “We'll find a way to fit together perfectly.” His hands moved to her hips, his fingers digging gently into the flesh as he guided her closer. He could feel the tension building between them, the air thick with unspoken desire. Slowly, he began to move against her, his cock sliding along her labia lips, “You're so wet for me already,” he breathed, his voice husky with approval His fingers tightened on her hips, holding her in place as he continued to rub himself against her. The friction was intense, and she felt herself getting hotter by the second.

His grip on her hips tightened, and he lifted her onto the edge of the bed, his mouth descending to claim hers once more. Their lips crashed together in a fierce kiss, tongues tangling as they devoured each other. He could feel her heart racing beneath his fingertips, her pulse pounding in time with his own. As they kissed, his hands began to roam over her body, tracing the curves of her waist, the swell of her breasts. His fingers danced across her nipples, sending shivers down her spine as she arched into his touch. Breaking away from her mouth, he trailed kisses down her neck, nipping at the tender skin with his teeth.

She gasped, her head falling back as he licked a path down to her collarbone.

“I need you now,” he whispered, his voice rough with urgency he couldn't resist it anymore, he reached down and grasped his cock once more, guiding it towards her entrance. With a slow, deliberate movement, he pushed inside, feeling her tight heat envelop him like a vice. Her eyes snapped open, locking onto his as he began to move within her, their bodies moving in perfect syncopation.

The sounds of their lovemaking filled the air the creak of the bedframe, the soft gasps and moans that escaped her lips, the ragged breathing that came from both of them.

As he thrust deeper, she let out a cry of pleasure, her nails digging into his scalp as she arched her back. He could feel her walls contracting around him, milking him for every last drop of pleasure. With a final, savage push, he buried himself to the hilt inside her, and then froze, savoring the moment of pure bliss that had washed over them both. For a long, suspended moment, they hung there, locked together in a tableau of passion and desire.

Then, slowly, he began to move again, his strokes growing slower and more deliberate as he coaxed her towards a second climax. Her eyes were still locked on his, burning with an inner fire that seemed to match the flames that were raging within him. And as he looked into those depths, he saw something there that gave him pause a glimmer of recognition, perhaps, or a hint of understanding that went far beyond mere physical attraction. Whatever it was, it struck a chord deep within him, and suddenly he was moving faster, harder, driven by a newfound sense of purpose and urgency.

She hit her second orgasm screaming his name and her whole body reacting, which in turn gave him his own orgasm,

Elrond quickly pulled out and came across his sheets already missing the feeling of her the moment he left, “...Uhh… ughh I uh… Little princess,”

“Yes My Darling,” she cooed between her own gasps,

“I adore you my little princess, my love… I mean it when I call you that. I love you,” He cooed stroking her cheek,

“I love you more,” she smiled pulling him into a kiss, “Humm my father will be angry with you,” she giggled,

“Humm… he will, but I will happily face the wrath of our father a thousand times over for another night with you.”

“You need not,” she smirked, “You can have every night for all of eternity.”

“Then I shall savour every last one.” He smirked back pulling her into a deep and loving kiss, “Humm…shall we continue my little princess?” He growled moving his hand to rub her clit,

“Yes, my darling.” she happily jumped on him flipping them over so he was under her with her straddling his legs, and pulling him into a hot and heavy kiss,

[shirefantasies]

firstly happy new year!

i wanted to tell you i love your works and maybe ask if i can request a Thorin's company x reader where the reader is from our world and has many tattoos (like a full sleeve) and the company's reaction, maybe the dwarves show their tattoos too?

thank youuu so much!

Ooh, this is cool! Sorry it took so long this got buried in my inbox 😣 I’m going to try to keep the tattoos as vague/open as possible but I may describe em here & there, sorry 😅 Hope this is enjoyable & accurate hehe, ya girl does not have any tattoos herself~

Warnings: slight suggestive jokes, minor blood in one

Showing Thorin’s Company Your Tattoos

Balin

It started the moment he pulled out the contract. You’d gone traveling with the company but not officially joined until this moment. Soon as the parchment unfurled, you began rolling your sleeves up and out of ink’s way. Glancing upward, you caught Balin’s eyes upon the designs inked into your skin. “Oh,” you cocked your head, pen momentarily forgotten, “have you never seen tattoos like this before?” Such a question earned you a sudden burst of laughter from the white-haired dwarf, who shook his head. “Nay, not in the slightest! Quite the opposite. We dwarves are famous for our designs. I suppose that yes, I’ve never seen ones like yours,” he glances over yours once more, “but many I have seen.” Suddenly you felt compelled to ask: “Well, do you like them?” Balin smiled. “Of course I do! Just because they are different doesn’t mean they are bad. Watch out for my brother, though, he’ll be itching to give you a new one if you get on his good side.” He gave a wink and that sealed it for you- you knew it already, but it rang through your head once more that you had a place in this company.

Dwalin

It had started with a compliment. “I like your tattoos,” you told the shaven-headed dwarf with a smile and a nod his way. He looked surprised, then pride settled into his eyes beneath the fire’s flicker. “Thanks. Bet you’ve never seen anything like ‘em before, eh?” Matching Dwalin’s smug smile, you rolled up your sleeve to reveal the art covering your own body. “By my beard,” he breathed. “Would you believe me if I said there was more where that came from?” You teased. “May not have before,” the dwarf grinned, “but I certainly do now. Bet you don’t know what mine mean, though…” "Well then, tell me." Brows raising, he crosses his arms and looks you over as if anew. "And perhaps if you prove yourself, I can add to your collection." As you can imagine, this turned into quite a long conversation.

Thorin

The king-to-be’s eyebrows raise, a look of pure shock crossing his regal features when you expose the long expanses of tattoos you’ve decorated yourself with. Arching a brow, you assume it is some sort of royal sensibility and roll your eyes, at least until you hear Thorin’s faint words emerge, barely above a whisper. “My sister has something quite like that. May I?” Stunned, you simply nod, holding your arm out as Thorin draws closer, fingers gently brushing over your inked skin as a small smile creeps to his lips. “I remember when she got it. She wanted me to get one, too, but I was too afraid.” A deep chuckle. “You, I see, do not lack the courage. Dis would like you. Very much,” he comments, blue eyes shining into yours.

Oin

“You’ve gotta be more careful next time,” Oin shakes his head as he lowers you onto the blanket, one hand tucked carefully behind your head. “You’re welcome,” you grin, though the expression quickly turns into a wince as pain arcs up your newly acquired wound. Tutting, Oin says nothing, opting instead to strip off your layers to dab at the blood collecting there. He pauses, though, over your bared skin. “You never told me…” Gloved hand waving vaguely over you, and you chuckle weakly. “What, that I have an amazing pain tolerance?” “That’s one way to put it,” he replies, “and let’s hope so. You’ll need it. They did heal quite nicely, you know. Half the ones I’ve done looked a mess after.” “You do tattoos, huh?” You chuckle again, smiling up at him as he worked. “Now that I’d like to see.”

Gloin

Bursting into hearty laughter, Gloin claps a hand to your shoulder. "Thinkin' you can beat Dwalin, are you?” Obviously you are quite confused, tilting your head at him until you trace the line of his eyes to your exposed wrist. The edges of a tattoo showed there, bringing a chuckle to your lips. “Hadn’t thought of it like that,” you shot back, “but I suppose I would have him bested.” Gloin bursts into hearty laughter as you push up your sleeve to reveal skin entirely covered. “Bless me, I was teasing you! You really went for it, though! What did you do for yours? I managed to barter for mine,” he grins, pushing up his own sleeve to reveal a design near his shoulder. “I wish that was how it worked for me,” you sigh, rolling your eyes at the thought of all your lost money, “where I come from, it’s pay or nothing.” Cue Gloin lining you up deeds to get dwarven ink done should you so desire.

Bifur

Catching Bifur gesturing your way, you frown slightly and turn back around, fixing him with a look of concern at his hasty motions. Finally, he traces a hand up his arm, prompting you to peer down at your own. Ah, right. He'd probably never caught a glimpse of your tattoos before. You nod, sign a 'what?' you hope doesn't come across too cheeky, and grin when he gives up and rolls his eyes and grabs your arm. “Well,” you ask, “like ‘em?” In all honesty, you have no expectation for his reply, but the enthusiastic nod and tug up of his tunic still has your eyebrows raising in shock. He has one, too, it seems, at least the one, and wouldn’t you know it, it’s quite similar to one of yours. Smiling, you wondered if that was as meaningful to him as it was to you.

Bofur

“Well you’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” You aren’t even certain what the hatted dwarf means until you follow his gaze down the length of the arm you’d bared to spearfish with, tracing the lines of your tattoos. “So you could say,” you reply mystically, waving fingers until the both of you are laughing. “Which one’s your favorite? I wanna see ‘em all. Well, if you’ll let me, of course, and…" Cutting him off with a hand held up and a smile, you answer, "I know what you mean. When we're done here, we'll need some time by the fire. I'll show you then." Eyes shining, Bofur gives you a grin and wades into the river with you. That evening, as you sat and warmed your soaked legs by the toasty fire, you rolled up your sleeve all the way this time, telling him the story of every single tattoo and chortling at his animated commentary.

Bombur

The others saw them, but Bombur’s reaction amused you the most by far. Without thinking, he grabbed your arm and held it up, eyes scanning your art beneath the warmth of his gentle hold. “Well,” you chuckled, “what do you think, do you approve?” “I quite like yours,” he agreed, “yours are pictures. I like them better than Dwalin’s.” A call of protest from the warrior dwarf rang out defending both his own art and of course the traditions of their people. But if you have any of things Bombur enjoys most, things representing family, food, animals, nature, and the like, he keeps fighting for you to the last word! "But I like the pictures! Have you seen them? Come have a look here." There you stand, your hand tightly in Bombur's grip, but you cannot help smiling.

Dori

The two of you had all but insisted the dwarves finally wash some of their layers, so they agreed under the express conditions that the ones who cared so do it. As you knelt at the riverside with a bundle of (frankly filthy) clothing, you rolled up your sleeves to the elbows and saw Dori staring out of the corner of your eye. He didn’t look particularly scandalized and you were used to eyes upon your art, expected it even. “Looking at these?” You asked with a smile. Sheepishly he nodded. “My brother has a couple of those. Always trying to get me to have one done,” he scoffed, “but I don’t exactly fancy a voluntary stabbing myself.” You can’t help laughing at that. “They certainly did hurt,” you agree in your mirth. Dori’s eyes slid down your forearm one more time. “You must be quite tough, then, aren’t you? Strong and sensible,” he beams.

Nori

One of your tattoos is especially meaningful, so the moment its subject comes up in conversation you are peeling back layers to reveal it. Many dwarven eyebrows raise as the sun strikes your skin, but you can’t help noticing Nori specifically, the look of intrigue and perhaps something else in his eyes. Challenging him with a look, you cock your head a bit at him. “Didn’t realize you had any,” he says simply. With a faint snort, you nod. “Well, here you go,” you roll up your sleeve further. Nori’s eyes trail up and down the expanse of skin one more time. “I’ve got a few myself.” Naturally, you ask him where, and that is when he breaks into a rakish smile and winks. “You’ll have to guess.”

Ori

Smiling at Ori as you accepted his sketchbook, you pushed back your sleeve to save it from smudging his work or the addition he'd welcomed you to make on a new page. An entry into his little world you were honored at the invitation to create. But when you glanced back up at the dwarf, your joy faded sharply away at the widening of his eyes. Shock, no doubt, at the revelation of the ink covering your forearm, designs you'd hidden for fear of distaste or harsh questioning. Quickly you slid the fabric back down, but Ori just gaped, looking more than a bit awed. "You have so many. Did they hurt?" A common enough question, posed innocently as you'd expect from the company's youngest. "Some more than others, that is for sure," you answered simply, "but I took it in silence." Humming in further awe, Ori leaned closer to you. "Nori screamed like a baby bird the whole time he got his." Bursting suddenly from your chest, your laughter cascaded over your whole body in relief, comfort returning to your little world. "I quite like yours better than his, too, especially that one," Ori added, pointing where he'd seen a particularly nice piece. Perhaps you should have known the artist would understand.

Fili

“Whatcha got there?” Glancing down at the utensil in your hand, you shrug. “Ladle. I was helping Bombur do the rinsing.” At that, the elder Durin heir smirks. “Not that,” he says, gesturing up from your hand, “those.” Right. “Oh, my tattoos? If you’ve never seen anything like them, I can tell you-” “Never seen anything like it?” Fili snorts in amusement, crossing his arms. “I take it you’ve not looked upon the dwarven kings of old.” Removing his coat and outer tunic, he bares his own arms. “I’d like to get mine here.” He touches his bicep. “One ringing each side.” “How convenient,” you tease as he flexes the toned muscle of his arms. “What?” “Nothing,” you snort, shaking your head.

Kili

The pair of you had been sparring, Kili parrying your every move before you finally sat down in defeat, accepting a newly-filled waterskin gratefully. The dwarf kept teasing you, saying all that he could about how well he knew you and the like. "Why, I practically know everything about you," he said with a proud look, "you'll not be surprising me any time soon." "Well, then, if you know me so well," you countered, "which tattoo is my favorite?" "Very funny, you haven't any..." Kili's eyes widened as you rolled up your sleeve, scanning every inch of ink. "...Tattoos." "What was that you were saying?" You asked, smirking into his speechless gape. Curse him, he regained his composure quickly, though, expression falling back into the smile you had to admit you loved. "Well, I certainly know which one is my favorite."

Bilbo

You start tugging at your top at the collarbones and Bilbo’s eyes practically pop out of his head when your tattoos peep at him. “You too?” He asks, tone incredulous. Chuckling in amusement, you fix him with an inquisitive look. “And what does that mean?” “Well,” he begins, voice faltering, “I suppose I just thought of that as, well, as a dwarf thing. What with Dwalin and all.” “Surprise,” you tease him with a grin, exposing more skin he flushes at the sight of, “but look, I think you’ll quite like this one…” Any tattoo you have from nature, after all, surely catches the hobbit's gentle eye in a heartbeat. “Oh, that is… quite beautiful,” Bilbo breathes with a faraway smile, “can I touch it? Wait, what am I saying, I’m sorry…”

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