#nothing too risque here unfortunately

[wannaeatramyeon]

The Yakuza daughter! S/o x Gun basically made me fangirl as I imagine them being a power couple lol. I now wonder if you got part 2 in that like Goo just discover Gun ring on his hand and a photo of his fiancée/wife in his photo (I just imagine that he took a photo of s/o in a lingerie lol)

Ughhhh Sam, this idea is too fun. Here's a much much quicker follow up with a lot less Yakuza-ness (sorry 🙇🏻‍♀️).

Gun Park x Reader: After I do (feat Goo)

Goo finds out. Follow up to 'I do' fic here

"How was Japan?"

Goo watches Gun washing the blood from his hands. Something about Gun has changed. He seems... different. Goo couldn't quite put his finger on it. Maybe it was Japan. Maybe it's the guy just being a freakshow as per usual.

Gun side-eyes him. The response is clipped, short, singular.

"Fine."

"Not like you to take an extended leave."

"..."

The lack of answer doesn't deter Goo, all too used to his partner's silence. "Business or personal?"

"..."

"Anything I should worry about?"

"..."

"Are you planning anything?"

"..."

"Did you pick up my Sanrio-"

Gun thrusts his hands in the dryer, the blasts of air drowning out Goo's incessant questioning. Unfortunately, this doesn't last long enough. Nothing ever does once the blonde's curiousity is piqued.

As soon as the whirring stops, Goo opens his mouth once again and Gun finally responds. "No, no and no. Shut up."

Hmph. Looks like Goo won't get anything else from this asshole. With a glint in his eye, he asks his final question, "You owe me for covering your duties. Was Crystal always this annoying?"

Gun reluctantly smiles. "Yes."

.

.

"What does our big bad boss want?"

Gun scans his phone. The message from just moments ago wasn't anything of significance to their mission. Although. The selfie of you in a seductive pose and risque underwear might be a distraction.

He appreciates it for a beat longer then locks the device. "It's not our boss."

That's the end of that conversation. Or so he thought.

"Huh?" Goo's eyes dart over to him with increasing frequency and the car starts to swerve.

Gun will not die by his hand because this fucking maniac can't keep his eyes on the road. Begrudgingly, he elaborates, "It's personal."

The blonde's eyes bulge out at this admission, "During work hours? Who wants to text a mean bastard like you?"

For fuck's sake. Can't this fucking idiot ever mind his own business.

Goo continues, "Who the hell would even want to be friends with you? I hope you're not plotting anything against me..." A malicious snicker, "Or are you dating? You should introduce me to them, they must be a firecracker!"

Gun tunes out his partner, a skill he has long mastered.

But when his phone buzzes for the third time in as many minutes, with you no doubt sending yet another racy image, Gun has to physically restrain himself from looking (and internally curses you for your poor timing).

Goo tries to swipe at the phone. "Hey, let me text back!"

Gun moves it effortlessly out of arm's reach. "If you're not going to keep those eyes on the road, then I can just pluck them from your head."

"You're no fun." Goo pouts, narrowly missing driving into a ravine.

.

.

"Oppa~ do you want a bite of this sushi?"

"No."

"Are you sure? It's really delicious!"

"..."

"Just a little taste!"

"Come near me again, I'll jam the sushi and the chopsticks down your throat."

"Ahhh~! Goo, your friend is so mean!"

What the fuck? Gun seems to be in an even more sour mood than usual. The last time the both of them were at this Gangnam bar, Gun had no issues with the women. Someone to warm his bed for the night, he had figured.

This evening though? He didn't even bat an eyelid in their direction.

"Gun! You can at least be nice to these sweethearts!" Goo snaps.

"No." Gun replies simply, getting up to leave.

What a fucking weirdo, Goo thinks. Oh well, more sushi for me.

.

.

"Since when did you wear jewellery?"

Goo snatches Gun's left hand, pulling it up to his face and holding it so close he is cross-eyed behind his glasses.

He absolutely has not seen this before, his brows furrow at this very odd addition. A plain, silver-coloured ring wrapped around the fourth finger.

Yanking his hand back, Gun responds. "Since I want to."

"A plain ring? On that finger?" Goo trails after him as he strides off, "You know what that means right? Wait..."

Goo completely stops in his tracks, "A couple band? Engagement? Are you...?"

Gun completely ignores him, increasing the distance between them.

No fucking way, right? The simple band on his hand is definitely something, but-

There's just-

No. fucking. way.

Who the fuck would be able to put up with Gun Park?

.

.

"Who's that?" Goo peers at the picture of the smokeshow on Gun's phone, catching a glimpse just before he tucks it into his pocket.

Having that image is certainly... a choice. Who is she though? A new k-pop idol? Gun doesn't seem like the type that would have an image of an idol or a celebrity as their background.

"My wife."

"WHAT THE FUCK?"

"Focus." Gun commands, as a gang of men come at them with knives and baseball bats.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" Goo repeats, ducking to avoid a slash.

"I said, focus." Gun easily tanks a couple hits before returning some of his own.

"WHAT THE-" Goo's words are cut short as some thug takes advantage of his diverted attention and knocks his glasses off.

"FUCK- Fine." Goo elbows the guy in the solar plexus then easily plucks the baseball bat from his now slack grip. "Let me just borrow this~"

.

.

"You must be Goo Kim!"

Turning on the hostess charm, you note how Goo has to almost literally pick his jaw off the floor with your entrance.

Gun leans against the doorframe, observing with quiet smugness at the reaction. You had dropped in at the HNH offices to join Gun for lunch. Usually he would pick a better time and place but the level of questioning from Goo had already surpassed absurd levels ever since he found out Gun was married.

The last few weeks had been hell.

"When did you get married?! You didn't invite me to the wedding? I wasn't your best man? Tell me, who was it! I'll beat them up! When can I meet your bride? Or are you scared I'll charm her away?"

And Gun had promised you a partnership of equals. With your short time in South Korea, you had more than enough proved your usefulness and loyalty. It's about time he cuts you in on the Crew business.

He surmises this is a way to kill two birds with one stone.

You're Gun's wife? This absolute knockout? With him? That fucking boring asshole?

Goo would have thought this is Gun's twisted idea of a prank if he hadn't found out that the guy barely had a sense of humour a long time ago. That time had almost ended in stitches for Goo.

"Mrs. Park!" He gives you a theatrical bow, "I've been so looking forward to working with you!"

"Just call me Y/N," you giggle.

Goo takes your hand, pressing a loud smooch to the top of it. Gun's entire body tenses at the contact. This does not go unnoticed by you.

You retract your hand back, subtly wiping the kiss away, "I can't wait to get stuck into all the details."

"Of course, Y/N!"

"There won't be any trouble from you, right, Goo?"

"Princess, don't you trust me?"

You look Goo dead in the eye, seeing through the fake hurt on his face and dropping your own act.

"No. And," you grab onto his crotch, digging in your nails as Goo yelps, "If there is even a whiff of anything amiss then I'm coming after your balls." Your grip tightens as he tries without success to push you off, "Got it?"

"ACK!! Fuck! Got it, got it!"

You release him, relishing at his squeal.

"If you've broken anything," Goo scowls, struggling to stand and cradling himself tenderly. "Ugh, you two are fucking made for each other. Psychos."

Gun arrives at your side with a smirk, he guides you by the small of your back, leading you out.

"Not bad," he murmurs into your ear, "You were wasted in Japan."

[hiddenreligion]

FF15 HEADCANONS

Okay, so I have never written any of my headcanons, but there are so many that I’ve read and enjoyed that I wanted to take a crack at writing some of mine down. These are pretty random, ranging from when the bros were younger to present day and they are a mixture of all four of the boys. Hopefully someone can enjoy these, too. ^^ Tagging @sweetchocobae, @rsasai, @thirdstreetcettin because you guys are the sweetest and keep giving me inspiration to write! I seriously can’t even express how talented you all guys are and how much yall have helped me get out of my writter’s block and general wariness of posting my shitty content. <3 You guys are awesome! >///<

- Young Ignis was a somewhat shy kid. Most people thought he was a typical, stuck up know-it-all, the kids in his grade school classes giving him a wide berth and proclaiming him the “smart kid with glasses.” Actually did pretty terrible on written tests.

- Secretly loves playing driving games and other multiplayer games. It was partially because of Noctis. Neither of them had many friends for their own reasons, Ignis because of the trifecta of school, tutoring/prep classes, and being prince’s chamberlain/adviser, and Noctis because he was equal parts introvert and the prince. So, when Noctis received a game console for his birthday one year and a few games, Ignis found himself more often playing on average two-three hours a day as a preteen beating Noctis to a pulp at street racing simulators. -Ignis has a very clear cut way of following rules to a ‘T’ unless he can find a loophole. He is not above fudging the truth and twisting the meaning of his words to get what he wants. It isn’t a lie if he says “I am at a stop and will be late to the meeting” when in reality he is standing in line for coffee because his alarm didn’t go off. Because only Noctis and Gladiolus know just how silver-tongued he is, he is able to get away with several things that would otherwise see him either prosecuted or thrown in jail for treason. This is how he was able to get Noctis out of quite a few mishaps and also how they were able to escape the citadel as children with very few repercussions. -He enjoys tea as well as coffee. Rooibos teas are his favorite, especially when he gets sick. He actively makes an effort to bring his friends and loved ones a thermos with hot tea in it when they are under the weather. Regis likes to bring up the one time little middle schooler Ignis bypassed all the guards and kingsglaive in the palace to sneak him a thermos of tea in his quarters while he was sick with a particularly bad cold, Ignis admonishing him for over exerting himself, “like father like son.” Ignis denies any association with that incident to this day. -Ignis is great with saving his money. He has entertained the idea of one day owning his own house or a restaurant. Still blows copious amounts of money on digital add-ons to his gaming obsessions even after warning Noctis not to since it isn’t tangible and “hardly worth it.”  - After being blinded, one of the last things Ignis was able to do for himself was cook a proper meal. Ignis made several attempts at cooking even small dishes, but often mistook ingredients resulting in some inedible disasters. Almost gave up entirely until one day, after Prompto had visited with his groceries for the week delivered from Leide and Duscae, he discovered a shape on the outside of the packages of meat and veggies. Feeling around, he felt another on the beef, this time a star, and yet another on the trout, a fish. Prompto quietly admits to putting different shaped stickers on the food containers so Ignis could tell the difference while cooking. He begins to cook again and, after memorizing the stickers, comes up with a new recipe for the first time in three years. He hears Prompto start crying or laughing and he’s pretty sure he’s doing the same.  - He later changes the stickers to something more dignified and streamlined, but he finds a few stickers on his groceries sometimes and it only reminds him of his friends and he can’t bother himself to remove them. When Cindy visits, she requests dishes based on the sticker shapes and Ignis wonders just how she knows which shape goes with which meal even after they are no longer present. He blushes the first time he realizes this yet they still have Cresent moon stew with skewered donut and shaved crowns on the side for their meal that night. (Carrots are still marked with a rather large ‘X’ shape and he laughs to himself whenever they arrive.) - Prompto sometimes gets anxiety in large crowds. Not always. But when it does, it is bad. It isn’t something he likes to admit, but Noctis realizes pretty early on when Prompto covers his ears and walks into one of the public bathrooms while they are walking through one of the busier parts of Insomnia’s shopping district one day. After following him, he finds Prompto knelt down in the corner next to the bathroom trash can trying to calm his breathing. Prompto tells him he’s fine and warns Noct not to touch him and they both stay in the bathroom until the panic passes and Prompto is able to breathe again. They don’t speak of that ever again, but Noctis actively avoids putting his friend through something like that again. Prompto appreciates it more than he ever lets on. -Prompto likes to sing in the shower. Whenever he spent the night at Noctis’s place, Noct would threaten to record him...one day. That day never happened. Prompto has a really nice singing voice and Noctis isn’t the only one who thinks so. One day at the hotel room in Lestallum, a rather stunned Ignis and Gladio are staring at Prompto when he exits the bathroom in just his underwear and way more towels than one person needed. They both make him blush by showering him with compliments and pats on the back and asking him why he only sings in the shower. He is too ashamed to tell them his singing embarrasses him and he thinks he can’t carry a tune. Soon after the world falls into darkness and Noctis is gone, Prompto finds himself often at Hammerhead in the fenced in garage surrounded on all four sides with deamons just waiting for the lights to go out so that they can come in. At these times, when he knows deep down that his friends and most of what remains of civilization is far away, he stares up at the warped night sky and sings. He doesn’t bother to stop when Cindy or Cid lean against the building and listen. He knows they are there. It just doesn’t bother him anymore. - It’s no surprise that Prompto absolutely loves shopping, even if all he can afford to do is window shop. Noctis hates shopping, especially clothes shopping with a fiery passion and flat out refuses. - Ignis takes it upon himself to invite Prompto along one day when his errands are going to take him by a few boutiques and the tailor shop. It doesn’t take long for them to become shopping buddies and Ignis lowkey loves the companionship, even if he is dragged all over creation to oddly named shops at Prompto’s behest. (Aero-postle, Moogle’s Bizarre Sock Paradise, Blizzaga and Chill) - Prompto doesn’t want to cut the long part of his hair because he likes the feel of it against his cheek. It’s the same reason he decides to grow out his facial hair. - Young Gladio was actually more of a momma’s boy. He learned how to read from his mother while his father was away most days. His mom had failing health issues, but that didn’t stop her from trying to be in her son’s life as much as possible, reading stories to him and later being read stories by him. He gets his love of reading cheesy romance novels and classical literature from his mom. Later, when Iris was born and his mother was in a steady decline, he took up the position of night time story teller for both of them. After her passing, Iris was taught how to read by Gladio. - Iris prefers more modern heroic stories. She still gushes over Gladdy’s cheesy romance novels and looks up to him even more for their interactions together. - His love of hiking and camping is also from his mother and not Clarus, though Clarus took both of his children on plenty of camping trips when he was able. Once a year after he is old enough to leave the wall in his teenage years, Gladio hikes to his mother’s favorite spot outside of Insomnia and spends what would have been her birthday enjoying the view of the land. He would rather celebrate her life than her death. Very few people are asked along on these trips because he prefers the silence for his own thoughts and memories.

[osamiiya]

Taking them bra shopping

Characters: Kita Shinsuke, Ojiro Aran, Miya Atsumu, Miya Osamu, Suna Rintaro

Warnings: Suggestive, gender neutral pronouns but reader has boobies, like one or two swears.

a/n Why did I write this? idk honestly. Watch my mental state degrade throughout this

Kita Shinsuke

---

Very polite

You think you see him blushing a bit at the more risque lingerie but he isn't

"I think that the other colour complemented your skin tone better."

Dosent try anything funny in the changing rooms, he simply peeks his head through the curtains, makes sure no one else sees. He waits in the hallway :(

Gives his honest thoughts about the style and color

Won't outright ask you to buy any lingerie but he's not going to object.

Pays for it all bless his soul </3

"I think the other one was better. This looks too tight."

You hum and move to put the other one on and Kita makes a sound of approval that accompanies his small smile.

His hands politely hover over the bra to fix it's positioning, waiting for your green light to put his hands on you.

"This one looks the best."

"It's $45 I think." Kita just nods and slips away from the curtain when you mutter something about being done.

He's holding the bras you decide to get in one hand, wallet in the other, and as the items get scanned, he dosent even bat an eye.

At your thanks he just raises an eyebrow.

"You need them don't you?"

Ojiro Aran

Respectful but also down bad

He walks with his eyes cast downward bc his mother raised him to respect women. He can't help that his eyes wander sometimes and then widen at the linge racks.

Aran holds your stuff and lets you wander off, following and giving his opinion when asked for it.

He says everything will look good on you so he's kind of no help

Again waits in the hallway, but if you have multiple to try on he'll just wait in the fitting room with you and comment nice things on how you look that day

"This one or the first one?"

You do a turn for him and he just smiles.

"They're both nice."

Rolling your eyes you run to the mirror, not missing the way Aran's eyes wander on your body.

"I don't want to get both though."

Your hands run over the material, pushing and pulling at it slightly to see which one was more flattering.

"Just get both, I'll pay."

Your smile grows in the mirror as you ask if he's sure, and he is.

So you get both, and wander to the check out, picking up things and asking Aran's thoughts.

Aran however, didn't think that bras would be that expensive, it's a small piece of fabric,the same as a bikini top, why was the price so high?

He swallows his pride and hands his card over with shaky hands, it's nothing he couldn't afford, he was just shocked that two bras easily went over $100.

Miya Atsumu

Don't take him please

Brings you lingerie that he thinks will look nice on you.

Has his own basket of stuff he thinks will look nice on you.

Finds the whole ordeal extremely hot and enjoys watching you send an embarrassed glare when he asks to get sized

Waits in the fitting room with you the entire time, putting on the bras after you and giggling to himself.

Wants to touch. Do not let him touch.

Likes all boobies big and small, very much a boob man and will be caught drooling at you trying on lingerie and push up bras

"You should get this."

There's less that'll be covered than the others, but Atsumu's dead set on how "Fuckin' hot" you'd look in it.

A quick look to the price tag has Atsumu's eyes going wide as saucers, and you can almost see the mental debate he has going on, whether he wants to get the lingerie along with your other under things or get the nice knee pads he's been wanting.

Miya Atsumu sulks when he puts it back, sending it a solemn look as he whispers that it would be a shame to spend that much money for a one night event, knowing how he'd ruin it and rip it off at first opportunity.

Like Aran, he watches you try on different styles and colours and decides they're all nice, really nice.

The price tag however? Not so nice.

He goes on a Twitter rant while you're talking to the store owner.

Miya Osamu

You would think he was a good person to go with

But remember, he's still a Miya

Snorts when the lady has you put on a bra over your clothes to see the cup size

But somehow he's still hyping you up?

Swears in ~awe~ and wolf whistles when you ask for his opinion

He loves going undergarment shopping with you

Likes it when you allow him to pick out lingerie, hands smoothing over your skin and the lace with awe

Genuinely thinks you look prettiest in the bright fitting room lighting, clad in a pair of pants and no top

"Wow."

Osamu can't help that his eyes wander everywhere, and you're right in front of him and God, you're so pretty.

"Look ok?"

Osamu's nodding before he realizes what he's doing.

"Let's buy the whole store, doll."

Unfortunately he dosent have the budget of a professional athlete but he's still got some money that he's more than willing to spend if it makes you feel pretty.

"The whole store?" You cant help but laugh at the firm nod Osamu gives you through the mirror, and Osamu's eyes sparkle.

His eyes however, don't sparkle when the poor teenage girl rings up the items, and Osamu sweats as he hands over his card, promising himself it was for a good cause.

And it was, especially when you show him again at home.

Suna Rintaro

Asks why you can't just use his hands as a bra

Smack his smug grin

Dosent mind going shopping with you or holding your bags

Just goes on his phone until you ask him something

Thinks you're pretty whenever, and dosent get the point of getting a pretty bra when nobody (but him) will see it anyways

Gives good advice on what styles look better than others

Makes sure they're comfortable and that you tell the lady if it isnt

He couldn't care less, will walk around the mall afterwards holding the bag

"Just tell her your size is my hand."

"Rin, please shut up- Hi yes I was looking to get a bra."

Suna wandered around the area, not letting you out of his peripheral vision, texting Atsumu and feeling the different laces and silks.

He's almost scared out of his skin when a worker approaches and asks if he needs anything.

When he wanders back, you're getting sized and Suna's scanning your face for any inckling of uncomfort, and when none if detected his eyes go back to his phone, the Schweiden Adlers going into their second set after taking the first.

"Babe can you come see if this fits properly?"

Suna blinks for a moment, whipping his head around a couple times before spotting your face peeking out from the fitting room curtain.

He sends a sheepish look to the ladies in line and slips behind the curtain with you.

"I think it's good- here." His fingers are cold against your skin as he loosens the straps a little.

"Looks nice, I like the colour." Suna's face is soft and he rests his chin on your shoulder as you admire yourself.

---

Bonus; The colour bra they would pick for you

Kita: Something practical, white or a skin tone

Aran: I feel like he would like something a bit lacy? If you were comfortable with it. That or a basic colour like black.

Atsumu: Red!

Osamu: "Dosent care" but also soft colors

Suna: Like an emerald green? He gives me emerald green vibes

[obae-me]

hmm mc singing Barbie girl (you know I never noticed when younger but its quite sexual lol) and their reaction? if you're not up for all maybe luci, Satan and belphie?? 👀

Word Count: 2635

Author’s Note: I never noticed how suggestive it was when I was younger either, and even now just reading through the lyrics I connected a few dots I hadn’t before. I’m sorry this took so long, and I hope it’s enjoyable to read! Thank you for your request, Anon! 

Lucifer

He had come to check on MC to see how their studies were doing. He respected that they insisted on doing their schoolwork on their own, but he still felt the need to check up on them, just in case. Too often did he find people slacking off.

He was just about to knock on their door when he heard MC’s voice reach his ears through the frame. “Make me walk, make me talk, do whatever you please, I can act like a Star, I can beg on my knees.”

It was a song he had never heard before, which wasn’t too surprising. He didn’t bother with anything...distasteful. He was a very picky listener. He gave himself a few moments to comprehend the lyrics. It sounded almost like a song Asmo would listen to.

He was taken aback, to be honest. The music itself was absolutely annoying, like some kind of glittery audio, but the lyrics coming out of MC’s mouth stirred something in him. He was a demon for sure, and he was no stranger to the more risque aspects of sin, but to hear such things coming out of their mouth drove him up the wall in more ways than one.

He opened the door without knocking, entering like a shadow. MC didn’t even have a pencil in their hand, dancing in their seat, their schoolwork the furthest thing from their mind.

“You can touch, you can play, if you say I’m always yours-”

MC felt a looming shadow behind them, their voice faltering as their heart fluttered. Lucifer’s hand reached around them, touching their D.D.D. to turn off the infernal melody with the taunting lyrics. MC looked up at him, the frame of his body blocking out the light in their room. He glared at them with red glinted eyes, a smirk tugging at the taut corners of his lips.

“That can easily be arranged.”

A dark shade of red covered MC’s cheeks as Lucifer shut their school book,his gloved hand tracing the spine of the book before doing the same thing to MC’s chin. They didn’t seem to be getting much studying done anyway, so further delaying them would do them no harm, besides, then he would have an excuse to be their strict tutor.

Lucifer is going to want to carry out those lyrics as punishment for MC saying such bold and tempting words in his presence.

Mammon

He had finally managed to get MC in his room to hang out, just the two of them. He had felt that his brothers were spending way too much time with them, and it was his turn to have his human. Lucifer had prevented both of them from going out since it was far too late and all of them had to get up far too early the next day.

To get around this conundrum, Mammon had a bottle of wine and demonus already chilled in his room. He’ll do his best to brush past the fact that he had stolen both of them from his older brother.

It didn’t take too long for both him and MC to get drunk, partying it up in his room much to his siblings annoyance. MC was pumping a bunch of human world music from his loudspeakers, and Mammon was secretly loving it. When Barbie Girl came on, he’ll admit he found it strange at first, his face burning as MC sang the lyrics to the song.

“Life in plastic, it’s fantastic, you can brush my hair, undress me anywhere.”

MC would look at him, glancing his body up and down to the words, almost like they were teasing him. His first reaction was to tell MC that they couldn’t just sing stuff like that. Someone would take it wrong, someone would...he didn’t want anyone else to hear those words but himself.

MC would convince him to sing the other part, begging and pleading with him. He eventually agreed, but only this once, and only because MC was the one who asked.

He’ll get surprisingly into it, and they’ll sing it again and again on repeat so much, they both would be capable of singing it in their sleep. MC would laugh anytime Mammon would purposefully lower his voice to a comical degree.

MC was almost torturing him, singing “If you say, I’m always yours”, dancing with their body moving way too close to his, their eyes painted with a sultry glow. He could only take it for so long before he turned the music off, causing MC to frown. Then he got in real close.

“Yes, you are mine.”

Levi

He had invited MC to a karaoke night, one of the few activities he’d do outside his room. It showed up in anime so often, and he would be able to sing his favorite songs as loud as he wanted without fear of bothering anyone. It was just him and MC, he didn’t want to risk the possibility that his brothers would ruin this already rare opportunity.

He sang some sort of anime opening, and he went hard, hitting notes that MC didn’t even know he could reach. It was beautiful. Levi thought nothing would be able to make this moment any better. Then MC retaliated with Barbie girl, and as soon as the first few lyrics left their lips, Levi went completely still. He was frozen, his concentration buffering.

“I’m a blonde bimbo girl in a fantasy world, dress me up, make it tight, I’m your dolly.”

They were purposefully teasing him, but he couldn’t do anything about it. MC had him completely red, his hands up to cover as much of his embarrassing face as he could. With his eyes still free to watch MC, of course. Sure he had probably heard and seen worse in anime, but he never said anything like that aloud, he had never...heard that aloud...by another person.

MC directed it all towards him, bouncing up and down on their feet as they sang, giving him flirtatious winks. If this were an anime, not only would he have had a severe nosebleed, but his soul might’ve just floated out from his body. Unfortunately for him, this wasn’t an anime. He was still frozen to his seat.

“You can touch, you can play.”

MC came on over to him and sat next to him, getting real close to him, tugging at the collar around his neck, playing with the stray hairs at the bottom of his head. He got so freaked out, he slipped out of his own seat and onto the floor, accidentally dragging MC along with him. MC almost couldn’t continue singing due to how much they wanted to laugh.

“If you say, I’m always yours.”

Right now it seemed as if MC had him as theirs instead of the other way around, with them on top of him on the floor, Levi feeling like he was literally melting. He wasn’t a huge fan of anything without some sort of connection to anime or video games, but he’d give this song a pass this one time.

Satan

While he can be a fan of some music, he typically likes silence, it makes things easier to read. But when MC asked if they could listen to some of their music while they studied together, he let them. He was curious about their tastes if anything. He took it as an opportunity to learn more about them, but he didn’t know that they were planning on testing his patience.

Their songs came up randomly, each one of them obnoxious noises. Satan knew immediately that the only reasoning to them was to see which one annoyed him most. MC tried hard to hide the smile on their face, but Satan’s expression left them highly amused.

He had just about had enough, ready to blow a fuse along with MC’s D.D.D. Then Barbie Girl came on. The breathy squeaky noises felt like they had taken a few centuries off his lifespan, but then MC started singing to it.

“You can brush my hair, undress me anywhere.”

He pressed his hand to his chest. This kind of song, these words, this behavior...was completely inappropriate. It’s what he wanted to say anyway, but anytime MC sang something else, he found himself speechless.

“Imagination, life is your creation.”

He ended up having to turn his head away from them, closing his eyes and doing his best to tune them out long enough to get his focus back, to get his logic back. He was ignoring the growing heat in his face.

He didn’t move until the song was done, and then he hastily took MC’s device from them, turning the music off and then insisting that they get stuff done. MC whined a little bit but obliged, having been mostly satisfied by his behavior.

The only thing was, now Satan was lost in his own mind and thoughts, unable to even comprehend what he was reading. MC would ask him a question, and he would find it difficult to even try to come up with a solid answer. He could only look into MC’s eyes and angrily shut all his books.

There would be no more studying tonight.

Asmo

Human world music or not, he knows this one by heart, and he loves it. It’s so playful and sexual, it’s exactly his thing. So, it was actually Asmo who had the song playing in the first place, much to MC’s surprise.

He had MC over for one of their self-care nights. He would do their nails, their hair, make sure their skin was nice and moisturized, and maybe they’d let him give them a deep massage. He had some of his music playing to set the mood. Some of his hype songs. When Barbie Girl came on, MC snapped their head up in surprise.

“You know this song?”

Asmo almost had to put down his polish, exasperated at the question. “Do I know this song?? Honey, I adore this song.”

He was the one who started singing, making his body sway and move as he gave MC flirtatious glances. MC shrugged, figuring the song was too catchy to not join in with. Asmo had never been so excited, he wanted to shout, maybe post it on Devilgram.

“Kiss me here, touch me there, hanky panky.”

He’s heard people talk dirty before, trust him, he’s just never heard MC talk like that before. Even if they were just singing goofy lyrics of a song, he had always wondered what it would be like for them to say such things. Only now, now that Asmo had finally had a little taste of what he wanted, he couldn’t handle it.

He had been doing his nails, but now his entire finger had nail polish over it. The air in his lungs was suddenly absent. He felt like breaking the bottle in his hands, so he quickly put it down.

“You can touch, you can play, if you say-”

MC had been interrupted by Asmo almost body slamming them against his bed. They stammered and sputtered for words as Asmo whined and almost cried for them to stop giving him false excitement, he wouldn’t be able to take it.

MC, maybe slightly influenced by the song, the mood the demon of Lust had set, and maybe some alcohol, told Asmo that maybe they wouldn’t mind if it were him.

Screw his nails, he had more important things to do right now.

Beel

MC swore the only reason why Beel even knew what flirting meant was because he had Asmo for a brother. He didn’t really take any steps himself to be promiscuous, and if he ended up doing something...spicy, he didn’t really mean to.

So when he came into the kitchen to check on MC while they were on cooking duty, he wasn’t sure how to feel. At first, he was just so happy to hear MC sing, if they were happy, it meant the food they were making would taste ten times better. Somehow he knew how someone was feeling based on the food they made.

Then his second reaction was towards the actual words they were singing. It made his stomach feel kind of full, even though he hadn’t eaten anything for a few minutes. MC was looking pretty tasty...

Then he shook his head to himself, shooing away those kinds of thoughts. It was just a song, nothing to get so worked up over for. He wasn’t like Asmo. Or his other brothers apparently.

MC will admit they were a bit disappointed when Beel started rummaging through the kitchen for a few pre-dinner snacks, ignoring the song. They expected a bit more of a response. MC loved trying to get a jolt out of the demon brothers, but Beel was Beel.

The demon of gluttony just kept them company while they cooked, none of the lyrics setting him off. He just happily munched on some crackers. Beel told MC they had a lovely voice, and while he wasn’t a huge fan of the song, he respected their taste in music.

He was almost too pure sometimes.

Belphie

He had been asleep for much too long, and in such a deep sleep, nothing seemed to be able to wake him up. Each of the brothers had tried and subsequently failed. They had given up on him, even Beel who went off in some search for food after his attempts left him starved. Only MC remained, and they tried the first thing that came to their mind.

For some reason their idea had been playing Barbie Girl and singing it to him in the most ridiculous way possible. They turned the song up on their D.D.D. at full volume and started dancing and singing on his bed while he remained fast asleep.

“Come on Barbie, let’s go party, ah ah ah yeah.”

With each little ‘ah’ and ‘oo’ that came out of their mouth, they poked Belphie’s body. Still nothing. If MC wasn’t able to see his chest moving and the air from his nose pushing the hair covering his face, they would’ve been convinced he was dead.

Except the fact was, he was awake, wide awake in fact, he was just pretending to be asleep. MC’s voice had both the power to snap him awake or lull him to sleep. Right now he was doing his best to stay still as they continued.

Yes, he kinda wanted to kill them for waking him up. Yes, the song was driving him absolutely crazy in the worst way. But also, MC kept touching him and saying things he had never heard them say before. The breath against his pillow was getting warmer, his nerves feeling jittery.

When they finished, MC was a bit disappointed to find Belphie still ‘asleep’, their plan had failed. They turned the music off and missed Belphie’s immense sigh of relief. They went to move off his bed, but he snapped to attention to grab their ankles. In a blur of movement, Belphie had them pinned down on his bed.

He had planned on just falling back asleep on top of them, but their expression...now he was awake, restless, and left with only one way he would be satisfied enough to sleep.

Bonus: Each and every one of the demon brothers has had this infernal song stuck in their head for literal days. A few of them don’t quite mind, and for the rest of them, they wonder if they’ve been subjected to some sort of torture. Lucifer has banned the song for eternity, and each of his siblings, with himself included, has some sort of demand for MC to fulfill as payment.

[katsukikitten]

Wholesome Frat AU, Clearly aged up, college au, main characters are Bakugou, Kirishima, Denki, Sero, Jiro, Mina, and of course you my dear reader. Sexual themes, mentions of drugs and booze through out.

AHEM

Chapter 1

Denki lies upside down off his bed, staring at his phone when another invite to a party comes through. It's from a classmate he shares notes with and one of the few non toxic dudes on campus. A smile forms on his face, his fingers ready to fly across the screen to confirm his Friday night to be golden and one to remember. 

Or maybe wish to remember as alcohol and maybe some weed numb his senses. 

But then the location comes through, a frat house that's notorious for ignorance and low key rape culture. He turns it down claiming to study and sighs. Staring at his shared four walls from the top bunk. 

"What's going on with you? No one wants you to keep their bed warm tonight?" Sero teases passing him up a beer before starting the next round of his game. Preferring to get buzzed and troll in Apex lobbies than find somewhere to be tonight.  

Their phones buzz at the same time, Kirishima coming through on the group chat. 

Big Red 🦈 : Any plans tonight boys?

Boomboi 💣 : Fuck off, busy. 

Tape dispenser 🎞 : Apex

Zaptos ⚡: got invited to a party but location is sus af. You bro? 

Big Red 🦈 : Yikes 😬 Keepin some ladies safe. Don't like the scene here…

Tape dispenser 🎞 : Same

Zaptos ⚡: Same

Boomboi 💣:  FUCK OFF!

Denki and Sero both smirk at their phones before moving on with their Friday night with small talk of Instagram stories and received risque snapchats. As the beer fridge gets dwindles  their thoughts seem to grow. 

"Okay, listen. Here me out!" Denki says as if Sero would ever come off defensive. He finishes his eighth beer before continuing. 

"What if we started our own frat? Like...like a fucking wholesome one." 

"Dude not only does that sound impossible but what would we call ourselves?" Sero chuckles nursing his seventh beer. Denki pauses for a moment, trying to think of something, anything great. 

"Alpha Kappa Wholesome." He smiles, "Yea that's it!"

Sero laughs from his bottom bunk earning an angry faced Denki to put half of his body over the side of his bed. 

"I'm serious man! We could kick out whoever doesn't match our values. This college is supposed to be about making 'lasting connections' with fellow heroes! How are we supposed to do it when we are cooped up in our tiny dorm!" He gestures to their cramped room. A set of bunk beds and desks with their TV and shared dresser on the far wall. Sero looks around, this sure as hell wasn't like the dorms at UA that's for sure. 

"Okay well two people isn't enough for a frat, man." Sero lets the dream die before it can bloom, running a hand through his raven hair. Denki scrunches up his face before he remembers where his crush stays.  It's as if a light bulb lit up atop his upside down head. He jolts himself falling from the top bunk crashing into the empty beer bottle. They clink in protest but thankfully non break, just roll beneath the bottom bunk. 

"But there is a sorority of only four and we have four friends in our group!" 

Denki decides now is a good time to face time them. Kirishima answers first with a shout that he's gonna step outside, the roaring party and flashing lights die behind the shutting door while Bakugou is illuminated by the light of his screen glaring into the camera while a meek looking girl hides. 

"This better be fucking good." Bakugou growls. 

After an hour and a half of screaming Denki finally convinces Bakugou that sharing a house with the three of them as opposed to a rando was a much better idea. Reminding him that he had done it for three years in highschool surely he could last two more. He agrees but refuses to help argue with the dean meanwhile Kirishima is GLOWING with excitement over the idea formulating with his sober mind the best way to handle the notorious harsh Dean. 

It takes petitions, several meetings and almost til the spring break to come down to this, the final meeting. Bakugou, who has attended every meeting and true to his word has said nothing. Denki nervous as a sinner in church, Sero who's sweating bullets and Kirishima all sit in the room with the board, treasury and the Dean in a final meeting of sorts. 

Kirishima gulps and before he can explain the benefits the frat will have to offer the Dean stops him with a simple show of his hand. Taking a report from the secretary of treasury to look over, he just needed the monetary excuse to back up his favorite word. 

"No." He clears his throat, "Unfortunately funds are too low to be able to support another fraternity." The Dean leaves it at that not even bothering to offer they join something preexisting. 

Three of the four men accept defeat, mentally communicating that they did a good job trying. But the fourth man dreamed of his own room, of his own space to do as he pleased. And all without threat of being charged with murder. Although the fourth man would never admit that the reason he spoke up wasn't totally about the room, it was the look of defeat, anguish on his friends faces that had the room heating up a degree or two and smelling heavily of boiling sugar. 

"Oi, toupee." The hot head let's his seat fall back to all fours, fixing the Dean a withering look, "You said something about not enough money huh?" 

The Dean swallows thickly carefully thinking out his next sentence. 

"Why, Yes its…." Bakugou interrupts before the Dean can even finish his thought. 

"Pretty sure I'm the reason this campus is gonna be swarming with fucking no name extras next year." Katsuki's smile widens as his hand pops, "If you deny this request with the money I'm making you then I'll participate in the university sports festival with another college's across my fucking chest." 

The Dean visibly sweats, Bakugou really was a hard student to land. His brash attitude and unapologetic behavior was popular among the younger generation bringing with it an influx of applicants and donations. It hadn't even been 24 hours since his announcement did it crash the admin and donation site. He panics, not even sure if there is any real estate available on or around campus in order for him to legally allow this fraternity to flourish. As if reading his mind the secretary of grounds offers him a file, an old run down home within a decent walking distance of the main campus. The Dean exhales the breath he didn't realize he was holding. 

"Let's not act so rash. It has just come to my attention that we have some extra funding to be able to purchase a place for you all…" He looks over the file, he hopes this is enough to placate the hot head, "But it will need some old fashioned sweat equity, if we can secure it. The town has been kind enough to offer us first dibs to real estate within a certain radius of campus and if they like our offer you hardworking men will have your 'Alpha Kappa Wholesome home." 

"They better like your offer." Is all Bakugou says before standing, "We get the keys in a month, got it?"

He doesn't give the Dean time to rebuttal, he just leaves while the other shocked three follow suit. It isn't until they are in the courtyard does their excitement hit them all at once.

"HOLY SHIT BAKUBRO ALWAYS COMING IN ON THE FUCKING KLUTCH!" Denki shouts, tackling Bakugou into a hug, Sero and then Kirishima wrap their arms around the yelling hot head who threatens to blow them up. 

"I owe you a fucking drink!" Kirishima shouts lifting the group and twirling them  

"OI OI OI SHITTY HAIR PUT ME DOWN!" 

After that promised drink and a month of waiting the four musketeers stand before their new home. The house is trashed, easily a short sale of a foreclosure as the rent went higher but their wages stayed low. The amount of work to make this place semi decent was going to be astronomical at best. 

Bakugou is thoroughly unimpressed, scoffing as Denki runs up the porch. The vision is clear in the electric blonde's head. The massive porch is clean, with a swing and some chairs, string lights hanging from the wooden ceiling while the half wrapped around, second story porch is draped in endless artificial star light cloaking the house in cozy warmth. 

Dneki opens the front door and plume of dust rushes out around him, the other two follow suit. Taking the steps two at a time as they rush into the house. Harsh garnet stares after them before glancing at their luggage. He decides to leave it all stepping inside. 

Their imaginations run rampant as they stand beneath the large archway to the main living room while Bakugou begins to second guess opening his mouth. That or getting more money from the Dean. Before displeasure can leave the hot head his friends turn to face him, their eyes shining and smiles stretched wide, wide enough it begins to hurt Bakugou's own cheeks. They encourage him to step into the home more, telling him what will go where. For a moment his smile is soft, tender as he looks at these three idiots seeing the bright side of everything before he steels back into his normal self.

"Oi! Quick acting all googly eyed. We've got a lot of work to do and a lot of fucking money to raise." 

The four friends spend majority of their spring term picking rooms and doing basic cleaning. Bringing only one of the two full bathrooms up to par, trying their best to keep up with the old big house. Even after all of them picked their rooms there were still three bedrooms and a den with a door left. They brain stormed adding recruits but Bakugou shot the idea down despite Sero being elected the president of the frat. 

Spring boils into summer, bringing with it the promise of cold hard cash. Bake sales and lunch deals thanks to Bakugou's cooking skills brought in a large amount of income, so did the odd jobs Kirishima, Denki, and Sero found themselves doing. Still they find themselves short.

"Shirtless carwash!" Denki announces earning a glare from Bakugou. Kirishima pipes up before the idea is blasted sky high. 

"Think of the money man. The community around here is soccer mom's and freshly graduated college kids and I don't know about yall but when I go for a run or hit up the corner store after a good run I'm being stared at." 

"That's a valid point Bakugou. I've seen how they flock to you for baked goods, they've been staring at your arms and eyes man." Sero adds voting yes to the idea making it three to one. 

Just as Kirishima said, woman and even some men, flock to the area for a car wash. Some even coming back twice in one day! The cash flow is good but still a bit lacking. Denki wipes the sweat from his brow as he wonders how they will get enough to be able to get decent light fixtures and a working fridge in the dorm. Let alone anything aside from a blown up mattress and folding chairs in the living room. He scrolls through his social media on his break and comes across the miracle he has been asking for. 

A lovely summer picture of four women in bikinis, three of them his housemates have lived with before. Mina Ashido, Jiro Kyoka,  Ochako Uraraka, and then there is the new woman, you.

But what makes the picture that much sweeter isn't even the content itself, no it's that gorgeous caption just beneath it. 

"BASIC BITCH CAR WASH! Help us raise money for an apartment so our sorority doesn't get disbanded!" 

An idea formulates in the electric blondes head so quickly he thinks sparks fly from his ears. A dangerous smile forms on Denki Kaminari's lips. 

[aster-ion]

Sylvie x Loki Might Not Happen and Here’s Why

***SPOILERS FOR LOKI TV SHOW***

1.  They are basically siblings

Even though they have different personalities, backstories, and physical appearances, that doesn't change the fact that they are the genetic equivalent of siblings. No matter what Timeline you're looking at, both Sylvie and Loki are the offspring of Laufey and whoever he had children with. We know this because they are Variants of the exact same person, meaning that if either of them were born to someone other than Laufey, they would have been pruned as a baby. And since they weren't, that means they must be just as genetically similar as siblings are.

Because of this, the idea of Sylvie and Loki engaging in any kind of romantic or sexual relationship is extremely disturbing to a lot of fans. It's too big an oversight to brush past, especially when the show has continued to remind us over and over that they are, in fact, both Lokis. Maybe if them being the same person wasn't such a major plot point, it would be easier to ignore the facts, but it is, and that means that Marvel is basically pushing either an incest or selfcest (depending on how you look at it) type relationship. And that’s extremely risque for a corporation as large as Marvel, especially with a character as beloved by fans as Loki. 

2.  It is terrible LGBTQ+ representation

And before anyone says anything, no, it is not because Sylvie is portrayed as female and Loki as male. I've seen a lot of Sylvie x Loki shippers say that the reason people don't like the couple is due to it being one between a male and female, but that's not true. Loki and Sylvie were both confirmed to be bisexual, meaning that they can engage in a relationship with anyone of any gender. It would be completely valid for either of them to pursue romance with someone of a different sex and still be bisexual. No one is arguing against that, and if they are, I definitely do not agree with them.

However, the problem comes in when you take into account Marvel and Disney's (who owns Marvel) long history of queerbaiting. There have been countless times that Disney advertises their "first gay character!" only for it to be a single line of dialogue or a brief shot. Marvel in particular has used the popularity of certain LGBTQ+ ships and headcanons in their fanbase to generate media popularity that they don't actually follow through with in their movies/shows. So when Loki was confirmed to be both genderfluid and bisexual in Episode Three, lots of people felt like they were finally getting a win for representation. 

But those people, myself included, appear to have been let down again. The first two official queer characters had so much potential to go off and be with anyone they wanted, but instead, the show has set them up to be in a romance with each other. Now, this wouldn't be problematic on it's own, but when you take into consideration the questionable nature of their romance from Point One as well as the fact that the show has explicitly referred to it as "twisted," it raises the question of whether or not this is actually good representation. Because the fact is, in one episode the writers went “look, it’s two queer people!” and in the next, they said “their relationship is disgusting and demented.” Marvel’s first bisexual characters being borderline incestuous/selfcestuous does not sit well with me at all.

All of this is made even more confusing when you take into account the background of the Loki crew, most notably, the director Kate Herron. She also directed the Netflix series Sex Education, which has quite a bit of very well done representation of all kinds. So how is she managing to fail so badly on this project? It makes me wonder whether she truly is just losing her touch or if this is all a misdirection. Personally, I'm hoping for the latter.

3.  It does not send the "self love" message people seem to think it does

The writers, director, and cast of Loki have said multiple times that the relationship between Sylvie and Loki is meant to act as a metaphor for self love. And in a way, that makes a lot of sense. Despite creating different identities for themselves over time, they are still ultimately the same person and therefore share a special bond because of it. And there's a lot of potential that can be done with that concept.

Loki is an extremely complex and intriguing character. He has experienced a lot of trauma in his past that has shaped him into the person he is today. And that person is clearly very broken. He has never given away or received any kind of love, with the exception of his mother and possibly his brother, Thor. Other than that, he's had no healthy friendships, romances, or perception of himself. It makes sense for him to be confused by this pull he feels towards Sylvie, who is both alarmingly alike and vastly different from himself.

Something this series does exceptionally well is breaking Loki out of his comfort zone. He is finally forced to see himself from other people's perspectives. It started with the file Mobius showed him in the first episode. Loki was able to view his actions apart from himself, and was hit with the realisation that he had been hurting people, and he didn't like that. 

Loki is also confronted by the existence of the Time Keepers and the TVA, who describe him as an antagonist and nothing more. To them, his role is to make those around him look better, even if that means he repeatedly gets the short end of the stick. Mobius mentions that he disagrees with this and that Loki "can be whoever and whatever he wants, even someone good," adding another layer of depth as to who Loki could be in the future of the series. 

Another huge moment for Loki's character development is while in the Time Loop Prison with Sif. Though he starts out annoyed with the situation and recalls not feeling apologetic when he cut off Sif's hair, the longer he is in the loop, the more he changes. Loki admits things to himself that we have never seen him say aloud, such as the fact that he is a narcissist that craves attention. Sif telling Loki over and over that he deserves to be alone makes Loki question whether or not he believes that to be true, allowing him an introspective moment where he really has to think about who he is. 

Now with all of that being said, I'd like to tie in why this is important to the writing of Loki and Sylvie. They act as a mirror to one another, representing both the flaws and strengths of "what makes a Loki a Loki." For once, Loki gets an honest, unbiased look at himself without layers of expectations or self doubt. On Lamentis, he calls Sylvie "amazing" and praises her for all her accomplishments. That's a huge moment for him because it shows that despite also finding her irritating, he can look past those traits and see someone worth being a hero underneath. And through that realisation, he begins to understand that he can also grow to love himself. That kind of character development for Loki is incredible to watch, and it's the kind of character development I want to see from this series. Unfortunately, them possibly engaging in a romantic relationship will ruin it.

Whenever I'm feeling insecure about myself and my abilities, the solution has never been to look at who I am through a romantic lens. Self love is an entirely different type of love from romantic love, so if the series tries to push this relationship as a romance, it will fail to truly represent the arc that they are trying to show.

4.  Nobody likes it 

This one's a little on the nose, but it's true. Almost no one likes this ship, and more than that, most people actively hate it. Yes, there is a small minority that like Loki and Sylvie together, but there is an overwhelmingly larger group that is disgusted and angry by the fact that the show paired them up.

After Episode 4 aired, I ranted for about an hour and a half with a friend about how much we didn't want them together. My aunt whom I have never texted reached out to me to say that she hated their relationship. My homophobic neighbour came over and told me that she would prefer any other romance to this. Friends that I haven't talked to much since school let out for summer have all agreed that they collectively dislike Loki x Sylvie. This ship has brought people together purely because everyone hates it more than they hate each other.

There is no denying that the general feedback for Loki and Sylvie being a couple has been negative, even if you support them getting together for some reason. So if there are so many people out there who don't like it, I'm confused as to how it would be approved by a team of professionals.

5.  The contradicting information we have gotten so far

Before the release of Episode Four, Kate Herron said that the relationship between Loki and Sylvie was “not necessarily romantic.” During the interview, she continued to refer to them as friends and people who found solace and trust in each other.

However, after Episode Four, the head writer, Michael Waldron, and other members of the crew spoke up about Sylvie and Loki. They said things like “it just felt right that that would be Loki’s first real love story” and “these are two beings of pure chaos that are the same person falling in love with one another.” These kinds of comments very heavily imply something romantic, directly contradicting what Kate Herron said. Even Tom Hiddleston, the actor for Loki, has assessed the situation, highlighting the differing viewpoints. He’s also said before that the end of Episode Four ultimately has Loki getting in his own way. 

Now, this could all just be a misdirection on either side to build suspense for the show, but as of right now, it is entirely unclear who is telling the truth. Though it is more likely that the statements made by Michael Waldron are more accurate (as he is the writer), there is still a slight possibility that Loki x Sylvie won’t happen. I’ll link the articles I’ve found on this topic below so you can read them and decide for yourself. 

Kate Herron Statement - https://www.cbr.com/loki-sylvie-relationship-not-romantic/ 

Michael Waldron Statement - https://www.marvel.com/articles/tv-shows/loki-sylvie-in-love 

Tom Hiddleston Statement - https://thedirect.com/article/loki-tom-hiddleston-sylvie-romance 

6.  It is still salvageable

The odds are not in our favour, I’m afraid. It is highly probable that the show will put Loki and Sylvie in a romantic relationship with each other. Yet there is still a way to salvage it and turn their bond into something incredibly satisfying. Like I mentioned in Point Three, the relationship between Loki and Sylvie has the potential to be incredibly empowering and provide both characters some much-needed growth. And I believe that while unlikely, it can still do that. 

The only mention of them being romantically interested in each other came from Mobius, who at the time was angry, betrayed, and doing anything he could to get Loki to talk. Then, at the end of the episode, right before Loki is about to confess something important to Sylvie, he is pruned. This results in no explicit confirmation from either Loki or Sylvie that they are in love with each other. The audience is left not knowing whether Mobius was correct in his speculations, and honestly, I don’t think Loki knows either.

Loki is no expert on love, as I explained earlier. It is entirely possible that he doesn’t grasp how he feels about Sylvie and defaults to romance because of what Mobius said. There is undoubtedly some sort of deep bond forming between them, and I would love to see that being explored in the next two episodes. I would love to watch Loki’s journey of realising that he doesn’t want anything romantic with Sylvie, and was simply confused by the new things he was feeling towards her. Loki even says “this is new for me” when talking to Sylvie at the end of Episode Four. Him momentarily believing that he wants to be a couple with her then shifting into them becoming friends who help each other grow is still a reality that could happen. And ultimately, I think that would benefit them both as characters as well as strengthen the overall message of the show.

In a show about self love, acceptance of yourself, and figuring out who you want to be, Loki very much needs people who support him. He has that in Mobius already, and now he’s beginning to have it in Sylvie as well. I just hope that it is done in a way that resonates with the audience and subverts expectations, which just cannot be done through some twisted romantic relationship. I’ve spoken to others watching the show and seen people talking online, and everyone seems to agree that Loki and Sylvie work much better as platonic soulmates or found family than a couple. 

Of course, my hopes aren’t that high up. While I’d love for this to happen, I’ve been let down by Marvel before and wouldn’t be surprised if they went for the easy route of pairing characters up rather than dealing with the emotions correctly. Still, I have hope for this series. Everything else about it is wonderful and perfect in every way. It has the potential to become a masterpiece and easily the best thing that Marvel has ever done. However, this romance would ruin it for me and so many others. We already feel incredibly disappointed by Loki x Sylvie being suggested, so I can’t even begin to fathom how people will react if the show makes it canon. I’m begging Marvel to please do better than this. They have a wonderful story to tell and a wonderful team to do it, and I hope from the bottom of my heart that they don’t throw that away. 

[winterhawk-olympic-bang]

Let’s Get It On

How To Write Sex

Guest Poster: CB

Here is our second Writer Workshop post, written by CB. Have a read and then head over to the Discord Server where we have a channel for you to take part in a discussion based on the post, with chances to share your own ideas too. 

So Your Characters Want to Bang

Welcome to my Ted Talk on How To Successfully Write Pornography! We’re going to cover a few bases here (first, second, third, and home base, to keep up with the metaphor), but feel free to reach out if you have any questions either on the Discord server or here on the Tumblr. If you take a look at my body of work you can see that a significant portion of it is explicit fic, which I’m told is a struggle for some folks.  Apparently my CPU is 80% porn.exe, so I’ve got a bit of a niche. Additionally, I’ve got a medical professional background that includes a very specific nurse certification in sex-related shenanigans, so if you’ve got questions, I’ve got answers. 

When I decide to write porn (or when my characters decide it for me), I have a few basic things that I keep in mind in order to make sure the story stays on track, the character arcs fit with the scenarios, and that everything doesn’t start to feel too formulaic.  I’m going to share my methods and maybe you will find something that helps you out or inspires you to give writing explicit fic a try!

The Mechanics

Let’s start with the basics. Fictional pornography can start to feel, well, a little bit formulaic, especially if you read or write a lot of it.  There’s a standard formula of kissing, rubbing, fingers, dicks (or other bits), everybody comes, the end! There’s nothing wrong with sticking to the basic formula, especially your first time (ha!), but here are some thoughts on how you can make sure you’re getting the specifics done and done well, and how to avoid feeling like you’ve written the sexual equivalent of an English essay. 

Lubrication.  It… really doesn’t matter exactly what kind of sex your characters are having, you can’t go wrong with lube. Getting things wet and slippery is half the fun and also twice the enjoyment. Sometimes characters decide to get it on in unfortunately risque locations, and lube may not be readily available - here is a nice list of MacGyvered lube solutions you may find helpful in that circumstance. That being said - if you are writing anal sex of some sort, lubrication is an absolute must have. 

Preparation. Otherwise known as foreplay.  Prep is and can be sexy! Everyone involved wants to have a good time, some preparation is required! I don’t just mean fingers in the butt (although that can be important too, we’re gonna get to that), but just generally building up the level of arousal over time adds to the dynamic you’re trying to create between two characters. Even if it’s fuck-or-die, sex pollen shenanigans, just talking about how hot the character feels for it is still a form of preparation/foreplay.  Specifically speaking to buttsex - the amount of prep your character needs is heavily dependent on the circumstances.  For your consideration - is this a first time sex situation, or does your character regularly bottom? Are they pressed for time, or is this a long, drawn-out affair? There is not (despite what fanfic writers would have you believe) a certain number of fingers that you have to insert into anyone’s anus that makes them ‘ready’ for sex.  A person who regularly bottoms may not need any fingering at all, in fact, but they are still going to need lube. (See point 1.) If your character has never bottomed before, they’re going to need more time and patience than a character that does it a lot, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they need more and more and more fingers. It just means they need a partner with consideration for their comfort. And lube.

Coming. People (and thus, characters) don’t often come at exactly the same time.  Frequently someone comes first. The other person may not come at all! They don’t have to! If it’s important to you, that’s fine. But it can be fun to play with the dynamics of one character coming and the other character not, because they’re caring for the first character, or because they want to wait and enjoy the burn for later, or because of whatever other reason - which brings us back to character and story dynamic. Also, playing with this particular dynamic can make your pornography feel a lot less formulaic.  Character B didn’t come because they wanted to wait and savor the feeling, and maybe in a few hours or days, Character A gets to really have a good time paying them back with a truly spectacular orgasm.  Maybe they just really wanted to see their partner fucked out and happy, and coming really wasn’t that important to them. Maybe they’re sex-postive ace, or maybe they take medication that makes sex and orgasms hard to achieve, but they still enjoy the intimacy. It’s up to you (and your characters!), but it’s not necessary for both people to come for the scene to be satisfying.

Penetration. Penetration is not the end-all-be-all of sex. Penetration isn’t even required for something to be considered sex.  Some people never want penetration, and that’s okay.  This is a good time to consider your characters’ boundaries, a good way to involve consent, and a good way to consider what kind of bedroom dynamic your characters are going to share - even or especially if it’s completely different to the dynamic they share outside the bedroom.  Is penetration necessary or important to the characters, the story, or the development of the relationship? Even if you just want to write it, that’s fine, but considering your characters’ perspective and feeling will give the act more depth and nuance.

Expectations (and subverting them so that whatever you’re writing feels fresh and different). Like I said before, there’s a certain amount of ‘this is what’s going to happen’ expectation in fictional pornography. A series of steps that you can pretty much guarantee is going to get you from point A to point F in the sexual alphabet. One of the biggest ways that you can make your sex scenes feel more intimate, more character-driven, and more unique is by subverting those expectations and doing something different that fits your dynamic better or isn’t “the norm”. For example, in a recent fic I had a character fantasize about what it would be like to have the object of their affection on their hands and knees - but when it came time for the sex, said character flipped the script and climbed on top instead! Fictional pornography isn’t real, and people don’t necessarily want realism in their fiction, but adding some realistic elements (oh no, I’ve lost the lube!/it turns out I don’t like this one thing can we try another thing/a hilarious thing has just happened) can be fun and unexpected, and make the reader more invested in your story.

So You Want To Add An Explicit Scene

You’re writing a lovely enemies to friends back to enemies to lovers arc and the time has come to do the do.  I’m excited for you! I’m excited for your characters! But now you want to know how do I add this to my story organically? How do you make this feel like a natural progression of the story, how do you segue from fighting Doombots to sweating it up in the sheets? 

The trick, in my experience, is to build up to that moment way before you get there.  You have to lay the groundwork for attraction before anyone takes off any clothes.  Does Character A get distracted during the fight by staring at Character B’s biceps? Was that an absolutely beautiful sniper shot at an impossible angle and it was so good that Character A’s breath literally catches in his chest and he nearly gets hit in the face by a robot fist? Did someone else in the battle have to remind Character B to pay attention to the fight?  Is it movie night and Character A doesn’t even know the plot of the film because they’ve been too busy staring at Character B’s face in the light of the television screen? 

A little pining goes a long way, but you have to establish attraction before your characters can act on attraction. It feels jarring to your readers if the characters hated each other two paragraphs ago and now they’re fucking in a public space.  Even if it’s hate sex, you gotta have the POV character hate how attractive they find the other character.  Then you just need an inciting event - one character takes off their shirt because it’s ripped from the fight, or they bump into each other in the communal kitchen and that hot line of their bodies pressed together sparks a kiss - and then you’re off and running! 

The exception to this might be an established relationship Plot What Plot fic, but even then, you���ve probably got an idea that sparks the actual sex - include that in your fic!

Help, This Is Moving Way Too Fast!

Oh no, the pacing is off! It happens to the best of us, don’t worry. You get in a hurry (just come already, oh my god!), and you push through to the end and then on re-read or in beta, you find that the whole thing just feels flat and rushed.  It started off so well, and then you lost something somewhere in the middle. 

The way I combat this is by focusing on how the characters feel and/or how they react to what’s happening. 

Someone’s mouth is on someone else’s body - how does the POV character feel about this? If they’re the recipient, is this the hottest thing that’s ever happened to them? Are they afraid to let go and enjoy it? Are they 404 Error: Brain Not Found? Play around with it. Does the non-POV character say something unbelievably hot/romantic/sappy/hilarious? What kind of mood are you trying to set? This is a character interaction as much as dialogue is, so you’re still working with the back-and-forth of two people who are communicating, but with their bodies. (And words too, to be honest).  If the scene is too rushed, slow it down with some internal dialogue, external dialogue, or something emotional (like a realization or an acknowledgement - oh no I love them/oh no I don’t hate them/they always take good care of me). If the scene is too long (to be honest this rarely happens, but it can), consider whether you’ve added too much dialogue or other extraneous interactions that have slowed your scene and taken attention away from what’s happening.

Help, It Sounds Like A Medical Exam

This is nearly always a terminology problem. 

I’m not here to tell you what words you can and cannot use in your sex scenes.  Everyone feels differently about acceptable terminology (though we have all laughed at dick euphemisms).  And that’s not even getting into writing fics with trans characters or different gender identities. Personally, I tend to use cock/dick for penis, and I avoid specifically naming parts for vagina-havers because I’ve never found a good one that I liked that I felt flowed smoothly in my own writing.  So this one is more nebulous because it’s a personal choice you’re making about what words do it for you and what words don’t.  It’s also, again, about your character’s perspective.  If you have a character who prefers certain terminology, that’s the terminology you use. 

Here’s what I can suggest.  Don’t focus as much on the parts of the body you’re writing, and focus much, much more on the sensations you’re creating.  There is a mouth on your POV character’s penis - how does that feel to them? Is it: hot, tight, wet, is there something happening with the tongue, are they sucking really hard, are they going really deep?  Alternatively - is the non-POV character enthusiastic? Are they into it? Is how into it they are super hot to the receiving character? Are they sloppy but determined? Beyond the physical sensation, how about emotional reactions? Has your POV character never had this before, or has no one ever treated them with such tender care? Is it the best blowjob they’ve ever received? The worst? (This can still be hot - can the POV character give them careful, precise instructions on how to do it better? Does the non-POV character find THAT extremely hot?). 

Keep in mind that you’re not writing technical directions for the characters in your scene.  (Unless you are, because you’ve discovered Gentle!Dom!Bucky, who is telling Praise!Kink!Clint exactly what to do.) You’re writing a scene that conveys something emotional to the reader.  Is it a sexy emotion? Yes, yes it is. It might also be a sad emotion, or a happy one, or any of the range of human emotions, really, but the point is that readers probably know how the sex works mechanically, what you’re trying to do is give them feelings about it.

Speaking of Feelings

Let’s talk a little bit about motivation.  Yes, even sex scenes need motivation. Not to be the prima donna actor over here, but ask yourself: Why am I writing a sex scene? 

Generally speaking, well-written sex scenes are better received if they accomplish a goal.  Writing a sex scene well is easier if you have this goal in mind before you ever sit down in front of your computer.

Does this scene advance the story? By this I mean: is this an emotional resolution, does it convey something about the characters’ relationship that cannot be conveyed in another venue or does it better express that aspect of their relationship, does it have meaning beyond the immediate gratification of an orgasm or add to the fic in some way?

Does this scene advance the relationship? Is it a big step for one or both characters? Are you showing vulnerability/trust/compassion/concern/etc? Is it an emotional milestone? Is it an expression of love that one of the characters can’t make with words but can demonstrate physically?

I’m going to pull some very specific examples from my own work, helpfully crowdsourced and reviewed by a trusted friend so that I can talk more clearly about what I mean.

Russian Red: if you haven’t read this one, it’s a story about Bucky wearing lipstick and then giving Clint a blow job. That’s it, that’s the fic. When I put it like that, it doesn’t sound all that exciting, really, and maybe it doesn’t even sound like something you’d like. A man wearing lipstick may not be your thing!! That’s okay! (And as an aside, people enjoy reading/writing things that they have absolutely zero interest in in real life, and that’s okay! Fantasies are weird like that, and a normal part of human sexuality, and we aren’t judging anyone for their kinks here.) But this fic employs very specifically some of the points I’ve made so far, so I want to talk a little about it, especially foreplay and emotional investment. 

Bucky wearing lipstick in this fic is not about Bucky at all.  It is explicitly about fulfilling a fantasy for Clint.  In fact, later in the fic, Bucky has a moment of insecurity about it because he had what he thought was a great idea, and in the moment of truth it becomes a bit of screaming panic because what if the whole thing is stupid!!!! We’ve all had that moment.  So readers can relate. But also - throughout the course of the fic it becomes something that Bucky also enjoys and finds sexy.  So there are multiple motivators: emotional satisfaction for Bucky because he’s doing something for Clint, physical satisfaction for Clint because he is getting his fantasy fulfilled, and then the added bonus of Bucky finding the whole thing unexpectedly hot means that he is also satisfied by the encounter.  I have created an emotional need that is satisfied through porn.

Emotional investment (also known as the character is putting in work).  Bucky goes through a lot to make this fantasy happen.  He has to tell Natasha what he’s doing for one thing, which is uncomfortable. A little bit of character discomfort makes the payoff at the end better, because your reader is invested in your character having a good outcome! It also shows that Bucky cares about Clint more than he cares about the mild discomfort/vulnerability of asking Natasha about lipstick for a mildly kinky thing he’s doing.

Foreplay - the more invested Bucky gets in doing this thing for Clint, the more he starts to find it hot and exciting, the more like foreplay it becomes, which means the payoff in the end is that much better. (Revisit the point on preparation from earlier!).  There is a lot of build up from the moment Bucky puts the lipstick on (tactile sensations, memories tied to lipstick, etc.) to the moment he leaves the very first red imprint of his mouth on Clint’s skin and realizes oh shit, this is hot.

This fic is very, very close, tight third-person POV.  Keeping the POV so close and tight means that your reader is very much in your POV character’s head - the reader is getting their experiences (emotional, physical, tactile senses) but they’re only able to interpret the other characters’ motivations and reactions through the lens of your POV character.  It’s trickier writing, but it means the reader is more connected to the character and therefore the porn. Also, it means that the reader is much more in tune with the non-POV characters’ reactions, which means incoherent mess is just that much hotter.

Personal Security/Security Failure: So these fics are… their own claim to fame in fandom. Gentle!Dom!Bucky and Praise!Kink!Clint have sexy, sexy adventures.  The first fic is their first meeting, the second one is fondly known as Circus Spanking. If you haven’t read them, that’s the basic summary, but please mind the tags if you choose to explore this series. Here we’re going to hit on consent, which is important and sexy, and vulnerability/trust. 

Again it’s very close, 3rd person POV, which means you’re very much in Clint’s head when he’s a wrecked, incoherent mess.  In the previous fic Bucky was watching the incoherency happen, which is very hot. In this fic the reader is experiencing the incoherency.  There’s also a lot of buildup in the first fic of Clint experiencing this inexplicable attraction to Bucky, and the confusion he has that Bucky is equally attracted to him - so like foreplay, you’re building it up before they ever take their clothes off.

Consent.  If you are dabbling anywhere in the kink neighborhood I cannot express to you how important it is to include explicit consent.  Please get a kink sensitivity reader. Don’t surprise your audience with dubious consent - make it clear and explicit from the start, even if it’s consensual nonconsent (which is a tag, but can also be addressed early with a line like ‘this is something they’d talked about previously’). But also! Consent can be sexy! It can be fun! It doesn’t have to be a drawn out contract of hard limits and detailed diagrams (though I have seen that done and done well!). Consent can be as simple as checking in with a partner if they’ve gone quiet or seem so wrecked they can’t express themselves. Consent can be one character telling another exactly what they’re going to do to them (hot hot hot!!), asking if they’re okay with it, and then doing exactly what they said.

Vulnerability/trust. Just like with the previous fic, vulnerability adds a sense of emotional intimacy that can be super hot.  If you’re writing kinky fic, vulnerability and trust go hand in hand, and show how deeply invested characters can be in each other - and that they respect and care for one another as well.  One character making themselves vulnerable to another with the understanding that the other character isn’t going to take advantage of that trust can be supernova hot if you employ it correctly. The key here is making sure that the character in the position of power respects the vulnerable character’s boundaries.  Security Failure in specific sets up an emotional need (increased trust) that is fulfilled physically by the porn that follows.  Clint needs to trust Bucky more, and Bucky needs to know that Clint trusts him.  Clint making himself super vulnerable in this fic lets both of these needs be fulfilled.

 Interactions outside the bedroom compared to interactions inside the bedroom.  In this fic, I chose to have these mirror each other - Bucky is in control of himself and in command of the situation in all of their interactions, so before they ever get naked you know what to expect from the dynamic. What can also be fun, however, is subverting expectations, so that how characters interact outside the bedroom is very different from how they interact inside the bedroom - so this is another time when knowing what your characters want/prefer is important motivation for your writing!

Character moments in your porn - there’s a scene in the first fic where Clint (this is all Clint POV) thinks about how much he likes performing a certain act, because it makes him feel good and useful.  It’s a very short interaction but it tells you a lot about the character - it tells you he likes to be useful, that he likes to be considered good (hello praise kink!), and it tells you he has low self-esteem which makes you want to wrap him up and a blanket and tuck him in and tell him how good and useful he is, but you also want Bucky to wreck him.  Your characters still have characterization, even during porn. In the second fic, we see character growth that mirrors growth within the relationship, but there’s still room to grow because Clint is still uncertain and insecure, and the fic helps advance their relationship to a new level of trust.  Through porn.

Communication, communication, communication.  Especially in kink fic but honestly in most porn - your characters have to communicate with each other! It can be nonverbal, but you’ve gotta make it clear to the reader.

The Big Finish

Everyone came (or maybe they didn’t), now what CB?

Oof, good question. 

To be honest, endings are the hardest (ha!) part.  And luckily, we’re going to have a Workshop specifically about how best to accomplish them! But as far as sexy scenes and how to wrap them up and move on, I like to use resolution of whatever need I was trying to meet, and then open the next scene with something that demonstrates a new level of intimacy/relationship dynamic/etc. if it’s part of a larger storyline, or just fade to black if it’s a one-shot. 

I hate to keep beating a dead horse, but this also depends on your motivation for writing your sex scene.  If you were trying to accomplish something with the story, then you need to somehow demonstrate that goal has been met - are they more comfortable around each other now, are they happier to show off their relationship to their friends, are they finally admitting they’re in a relationship? If you were trying to accomplish something with the relationship itself (which, as you can see, may go hand in hand with the story), then how can you show that? Does the one who usually leaves finally fall asleep in the other person’s arms? Is there a big flowery declaration? Does someone crymax? Does one partner tenderly clean the other partner up with a warm cloth and snuggle them into submission? The world is your oyster! Do what feels right for your characters and the journey you’re taking them on! 

And don’t forget the lube. 

[dboliklover]

Can you do the Sakamaki boys reacting to their tiny s/o who sees something she doesn’t like or completely agree with and goes ‘not my kink’ before shutting her book or turning off the tv etc...... YOUR BLOG IS GREAT I READ THE PIZZA IMAGINE AND LAUGHED!!!

I hope you don’t mind, I did alter the requests slightly! <3 <3 <3  Thank you so much, dearest. This took me way longer than I had planned, but I hope you enjoy it! 

Warning: NSFW mentions/themes, but not actual smut. 

Shu:

You were sitting in the music room as Shu played the violin for you, book in your hands. He rarely played for you, but this was one of those rare, domestic moments that made you feel so-very-content.

The book you had chosen, however - was something you’d foolishly grabbed in a hurry, and the more you tried to read the more...disturbing it got.

Not in a ‘real’ disturbing manner, mind you; the disturbing part was how god-awful this book was. The writing. The characteristics. The hypersexualisation that made you want to cringe.

Not to even mention how unrealistic this book was! You would know how the ‘risque’ sex that’s written in this novel actually works and this ain’t it, chief.

Instead of arousal, you felt disgust; why was the protagonist so...bland and horny??

Eventually one of the sexual descriptions broke your resolve and you slammed the book closed, the sound causing Shu to stop playing, turning to you with a raised eyebrow - a look that said ‘What the fuck?’

You took a deep breath, your cheeks tinted vermilion with embarrassment - definitely not arousal - as you placed the book down on the window sill beside you. “Nothing, I just don’t find this book appealing,” You swallowed thickly, “Keep playing, please. You know I love your music-”

Shu let out a breathy chuckle and placed his violin down, coming closer to you with his hands in his pockets and his signature jacket over him.

You attempted to grab the book back before he could pick it up and see what it was, but he grabbed the book from your hands as you squealed and tried to grab it back - too bad you were so small

An unusually loud laugh fell from his godlike lips, “50 shades of Grey?” He snickered, shaking his head, “If you want bondage, you lewd woman, you can get the real thing from me.” He shamelessly stated as if it was the most casual thing. “I’ll even be kind enough to take you right here and now.”

You blinked, red-faced. “....Not my kink!” you cried out without even realising what you said - and then blushed harder in humiliation when you acknowledged the words that had slipped out of your panic. Unfortunate too because this was your kink; and Shu knew it, too.

Reiji:

Reiji and you were in bed, he was reading a classical novel as you watched TV

How you even convinced him to allow you to have  TV in your room, even you did not know; but you do remember him being strictly against it. He really did detest that TV.

Your small form bundled up in the covers as you watched the screen, Reiji was frustrated because he REALLY hated this stupid TV and didn’t know why he agreed to let you have it in the first place and was very close to just getting rid of it. Why couldn’t you just read a book like a sophisticated, proper person (like himself)?

Reiji sat up off the bed with his book and went to the library instead - it was at least quiet there, as opposed to the ridiculous movie you were watching.

As for you, the movie was...interesting, to say the least - it had looked appealing to you when you first turned it on but soon found that it was getting a little too...intense. You hadn’t initially realised it would be a slasher film, and as luck would have it the moment the nasty things started occurring was when Reiji was already out of the room.

You tried - you truly did - to keep going and just watch it but you couldn’t.

Not because you were scared or afraid but because it was so horrifically gorey in the worst of ways that it was impossible to enjoy - how did anyone possibly like this genre?

Reiji had just managed to close the bedroom door behind him when he heard you screech, “NOT MY KINK!” from inside, and a soft thud as though you’d thrown the remote.

He blinked, mentally arguing with himself on whether or not he should even try to go inside and see what happened; he was curious, yes, but curiosity killed the cat and to be frank...well, he didn’t exactly want to know.

Like that one time he’d walked in on Laito and his lover in the kitchen and quite literally entered and left as soon as he saw what was going on. He shuddered at the memory.

Taking a deep breath he turned back around and went inside, raising an eyebrow in mild amusement as he saw you huddled in bed, TV turned off and the remote sitting in the corner against the wall.

Hm, maybe this was fortunate; he’d finally be able to convince you to get rid of that TV.

Not to mention you looked adorable like that; your petite form clenching onto the covers and pillows in a panicked state.

Reiji loved seeing you so vulnerable and adorable, like a small little panicked rabbit.

Ayato:

You were sitting by the swimming pool, your small legs dipping in and out of the water as you read your novel, humming softly to yourself as you were fully focused on the story.

Ayato was splashing around in the pool, and though he wouldn’t admit it he was upset you refused to swim with him

What was the point of coming to a pool with him if you weren’t going to swim?

Pouting, he swam around a few laps, admittedly growing bored and glancing over at your tiny physique holding a book by the pool’s edge. It would be so easy just to...pull you in…

A smirk befell his lips and he chuckled to himself darkly, his emerald eyes narrowing as he sunk his larger body under the surface, slowly making his way over to you, sneaking up on you so he could pull you into the pool by the foot.

He couldn’t wait to see our expression - this was going to be SO amusing.

Teasing you must’ve been Ayato’s favourite activity above anything else; your huffy reactions were always just too cute for your own good.

Carefully he got closer and closer as you were perfectly unaware that he was beginning to reach you, the book in her hands having completely stolen your attention (from Ayato; hence why he was so determined to tease you and regain your attention - but he would rather die than admit that aloud)

Your scream spread through the outdoors, loud enough to scare the birds off their trees as you felt a hand grasp your leg and drag you under the depths of the swimming pool, your book flying up into the water, ruined.

Eyes wide and shocked your tiny body sunk beneath the water’s surface as you frantically attempted to calm yourself down, swimming up to take a deep breath as you moved your hands shakily to keep afloat.

“Ayato!” You cried out as frustration flooded your veins, “What the hell did you do?”

His laugh was obnoxious to you in that moment; you had half-a-mind to push him away from you with your legs under the water, but instead you made your way back to the pool’s edge, sighing. “Don’t do that again,” You huffed, “It’s not my kink,”

Ayato blinked, confused but very much entertained - hey, his plan had worked; he managed to regain your attention and that’s a win for him.

“Maybe that isn’t,” He countered, swimming closer to you as you climbed back onto the ground, his eyes melting into yours, “But I know for a fact this is,” Suddenly his arms were on your thighs, spreading them apart as you gasped, “A-Ayato! Not here, I...I…” A heavy blush covered your cheeks as you bit down on your lip to stop the soft moans, “Any one could come out here right now and see us-”

“Let them.” He winked.

Laito:

Playing pool was never ‘your’ thing; you were terrible at it, really.

Still, Latio demanded he play with you and you just couldn’t refuse him; not when his way of “convincing” you was to mercilessly attack your neck with love bites until you were a gasping, moaning mess.

So here you were, holding a pool stick as you leaned against the pool table, watching Laito lean down to take a hit off the ball.

Both of you knew that he was going to win; you would lose every time much to your dismay, though in your defense he had absolute decades or even centuries of experience so of course he’d be your superior in this game.

As you two played and you were getting your ass served to you, you turned on the small television in the game room just so you two would have some background noise to make the experience more pleasant. (And, admittedly, you were hoping the noise would distract Laito and make him falter)

Unfortunately for you, however, the channel the TV was on was the news channel, and specifically regarding some politics that never failed to get you riled up and angry.

You were trying to focus on the game; you really were, but you kept hearing the news reporter making ridiculous declarations which curdled your very blood.

How could people be so stupid? And spread such obvious misconduct and propaganda?

Laito noticed your agitation increase as you tried to project those frustrations on the poor pool balls that you kept hitting with no strategy apart from “angrily hitting this and making the balls fly everywhere”

You were tense, and he wasn’t sure why that was - his first instinct was that he was just that great at pool that you were becoming horribly frustrated due to your inferior skill; but he soon found his answer when you grabbed the remote and turned the small TV off, filling the room with silence as you sighed and declared,  “Not my kink.”

After he processed what had just happened, he laughed in the sultry manner which only he could pull off; that signature thigh-clenching laugh that instantly activated the burning desire within you. Still, you glared at him, crossing your arms because your anger, though aimed at the stupid news, had not yet dissipated.

“What are you laughing about?”

Laito tsked and shook his head, that charming smile sending you back on your heels; fuck, why did he have to be so damn seductive that you forgot whatever it was you were upset about with just one look?

Before you knew it, Laito pushed your body against the table, trapping you in a compromising position as the pool stick fell from your hand and clacked on the ground, “L-Laito…” You whispered in slight protest, trying to resist your lover’s advances.

Unfortunately for you the moment he picked you up and placed your ass on the table, caging your body with his arms as he held onto your thighs you knew that your resolve was fading fast.

“That’s not your kink, huh?” He chuckled into your ear so you could feel his breath on your ear, sending wild sparks down your spine, “Maybe I can help with that.”

Kanato:

Kanato demanded you have a tea party with him and Teddy, and who were you to refuse? Especially since you knew damn well he’d throw a tantrum if you tried to say no.

So here you were, sitting at the tea table elegantly with Teddy and Kanato, who was forcing you to eat more cake than you would like to eat, but you also knew he was relentless when it came to sweets.

It was quite enjoyable for the most part - by now you were used to having such tea parties with Kanato, since he had a bias towards more...childish aspects of life. But given his difficult childhood, you understood why that was and if having Teddy by his side and having tea parties made Kanato feel safe, secure and stable, then you would partake in such things for his sake.

What you perhaps weren’t so much a fan of was the dresses. He insisted on dressing you up constantly in the most frivolous gowns he could get his hands on; at times you felt more like his personal dress-up doll than his lover.

Frills, satins, ribbons and lace, though pretty when used to enhance clothing, were atrocious when used in such frivolity.

But, just as with everything else, you put up with it for Kanato’s sake. Even the tight, excessively hot-to-wear dresses, you put up with it all because you knew that Kanato felt better when he could have control over such things.

Biting into a piece of terribly sweet cake, you raised it to your lips when Kanato suddenly stood up, telling you to stay still, and so you did and waited for him to return.

When he came back, you had to stop yourself from nervously laughing because he was holding up the most frilly, puffy, most horrific dress you’ve ever seen. It was too much, even out of all the kinds of insufferable dresses he forced you to wear, this one was something else, another level completely.

Not even the world’s brattiest princess would be caught dead in it!

He...he really expected you to wear this?

You did a lot to make Kanato happy, and made many sacrifices for him. But this...this was too much; it was impossible for you to ever even try to get into that death trap of a dress.

This was one thing you were not going to be doing no matter how big a tantrum saying ‘no’ would result in.

“Not my kink.” You softly stated, swallowing the piece of cake and placing your fork down slowly, as if trying to make no sudden movements in front of a predator.

Your statement clearly confused him, and that gave you enough time to raise from your seat, and you could tell that for a second Kanato thought you were standing to come and take the dress to change into it, but the moment you were standing you legged it out of the room, hearing Kanato yelling at you to come back and wear it,

“NOT MY KINK!” You exclaimed again, running as far away as possible from the most hellish dress you’ve ever seen. It was such an awful dress that you were certain if Karlheinz was a dress, he’d be that monstrosity.

Subaru:

You were taking a walk with Subaru in the garden, enjoying your time together amongst the roses. Moments such as these were your absolute favourites; how could you not adore them? How could you not adore him?

Hand-in-hand, the two of you walked together without saying a thing, simply...enjoying one another’s sweet company, the mutual feeling of trust and love surrounding you both.

Subaru was not the easiest man to get along with, but you had taken your time to get him to warm up to you and now there was a comfort between you that you didn’t feel with anyone else.

Subaru...he’d truly become your lifeline, your love and everything good in your life. He was so much more wonderful than he gave himself merit for, but you were here to remind him every time he self-deprecated that you adored him just the way he was.

His hand let go of your hand only to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer. It was physically and emotionally intimate; a sensation of true, undying love and passion and before you knew it your lips were on his in a frenzy.

Subaru was a rough man; this was nothing new to you, but you admittedly loved it. His strong touch, his violent kisses all over you, it was to die for.

He sank his fangs into your neck, drinking your blood as you held tightly onto him, feebly moaning with breathy sighs as you ascended into seventh heaven because Subaru drinking from you always felt so perfectly painful that it resulted in the truest of pleasure.

The beautiful moment of the pure intimacy of lovers was ruined when a certain ginger vampire interrupted, chuckling lustfully to himself with his hand on his hip, “My my~ What do we have here?” Laito taunted.

You felt Subaru tense and pull away - you knew he was moments away from snapping at his older brother so you quickly kissed your snow-haired lover to distract him from his rage and then pulled away when he was in a daze, grabbing his hand and pulling him up from your position on a bench, glaring darkly at Laito, “Not. My. Kink.” You hissed, which no doubt must’ve been absolutely adorable to the perverted vampire because you looked like a tiny little angry kitten!

He laughed and shrugged as you dragged Subaru away back inside, frustrated that Laito had ruined the romantic moment.

Mod Rozalia 

As always I appreciate and love it when you reblog and comment <3 Tell me your favourite moments, who your favourite boy is, what emotions you felt reading it, etc! Hell, comment about how shitty my writing is, if you want! I just like having that communication with followers <3 

[timelordthirteen]

Desperate Souls 3/?

Mr. Gold/BelleFrench, Explicit

Summary: A broke and heartbroken Belle French comes to an agreement with Mr. Gold to do a little modeling, just for him, in exchange for the money she desperately needs, but it isn’t long before they both realize they’ve made a deal they didn’t understand. Based on this prompt.

Chapter Summary: The first evening at Gold's goes unexpectedly for Belle.

Notes: And here we go... ;) This got very long which I guess is what I get for trying to cram too much in. Chapter 4 is in progress. This is what Belle wears. And yes I have images for everything.

[AO3]

Belle spent the next week trying not to think about her deal with Gold.

Every time she looked out the library window at the pawn shop, or saw him walking down the street, she could feel her ears burning and a flush creep up her neck. Monday, she picked up the money for the ring, such as it was, and nothing had been said on the matter, except to agree on seven o’clock as the time she should arrive at his house. It was said almost as an afterthought, after the sales receipt had been written out and the cash was in her hand. She was so focused on the existence of their agreement at all, that she hadn’t given any thought to the fact that she didn’t know when she was supposed to show up.

Wednesday morning they were both in Granny’s diner at the same time getting coffee. He said good morning to her as he went to leave, very nonchalantly, very I am not paying you to model your lingerie for me, and she completely mishandled the change Ruby was giving her, spilling half of it into her purse and the other half on the floor. Of course he was out the door by the time the last quarter fell.

But now the day was here, and she couldn’t ignore the inevitable anymore.

She closed the library at five, and went up to her apartment to shower. The new shelving had arrived for the children’s section resulting in her spending much of the day crouching down on the dusty floor reorganizing everything. It was tiring work, but satisfying, and she couldn’t wait to unveil all the updates that had been done since the section was closed a couple of months ago. Her excitement for that was , unfortunately, tempered by what was about to occur as soon as she realized what time it was.

Belle didn’t know how one should dress for such a thing. Since she hoped the whole event would be just a quick in and out, she opted for a comfortable navy sweater dress and a pair of leggings, which she thought would be fairly easy and quick to take off and put back on. As soon as the idea of taking off her clothes hit her, her stomach dropped to the bottom of her black ankle boots.

Fuck.

She closed her eyes and took a slow breath, in and out. The sick feeling faded, but she started to wonder if she should even go through with it. Gold was paying a substantial amount of money, and on paper it seemed simple: show up, put on some fancy underwear, get paid, and go home. Except every single part of that sounded like exactly what a prostitute did. While she was fully supportive of sex work from a feminist perspective, it was absolutely not something she wanted to do herself.

Yet she felt like she was about to, in a way, and it made her wonder what was in it for Gold. She didn’t really know that much about it, apart from the fact that he was rich and everyone thought he was a jerk to varying degrees. Her limited interactions with him had always been very cordial, and while he seemed a bit eccentric and reserved, he was also intelligent and sharply funny. The first time she’d met him, right before she’d interviewed for the position at the library, he’d made her laugh. Five minutes later, when she found out he was part of the town council’s hiring committee, she’d been terrified that she was already out of the running. He didn’t ask her a single question, yet at the end everyone had looked at him as if he alone held the deciding vote.

Congratulations, Miss French.

That was all he’d said, and it was done; she was hired. The whole thing had been surreal, and now somehow her current situation made it even more so. Had he set his sights on her back then? Had he been waiting the past four years for a moment when she would need something from him to do - what? None of it made any sense.

Sighing, Belle checked herself one last time in the mirror on the back of her bedroom door, and then picked up her purse. It was time to do the brave thing.

Gold’s house was on a dead end lane not far from the library.

Everyone knew which one was his, the pink Victorian with the wide front porch that sat between two stately trees on a small bump of a hill. It seemed set apart from all the other houses, both because of the wide, deep lot in which it was built, and because of the almost ominous way it loomed over the other homes. It seemed to project its owner’s presence, and Belle shivered.

She carefully picked her way up the front sidewalk, her hands clenched into fists inside her coat pockets as she wondered what piece he had picked for her to wear. There were a couple of items she’d special ordered that were more on the risque side of the spectrum, things that were more personal to her, things that she liked for herself, not just to wear for someone else. Faced with the prospect of wearing them for Gold, she felt strange, as if a part of her might be exposed in a way that had nothing to do with how much of her bare skin was showing.

She paused at the door, repeating her mantra to do the brave thing, before she raised her hand and knocked. Her arrival was earlier than they’d discussed, only a few minutes after six, but she couldn’t sit in her apartment another second. Hopefully Gold wouldn't mind her desire to get things over with as quick as possible.

The delay before Gold opened the door felt interminable, but then a warm glow was spilling onto the porch, and she caught a whiff of something that made her inhale sharply. The scent was rich and familiar. It made her mouth water, and it took her a moment to realize it was the smell of food cooking.

“Miss French,” Gold said, breathlessly. He looked down at her and frowned. “You’re early.”

Belle forced a smile and shrugged. “Sorry, I was just sitting around at home and thought...why not just get it over with?”

His expression changed in a way she couldn’t read, but then he stepped back and held open the door. “Please, come in.”

The foyer was high and surprisingly bright, with a large, wrought iron chandelier that looked like something that belonged in the Middle Ages. In front of her was a short hallway that appeared to lead to the kitchen from which the aforementioned delicious smell was emanating. To the left was a sitting room, and to the right was the staircase, and while he was busy shutting the door behind her, she was busy...staring.

“May I take your coat?” Gold’s voice startled her, and she spun around to find him looking at her curiously.

She swallowed and nodded, and then handed it over, watching as he hung it on a set of hooks inside the door. Then he turned to her with a faint smile and his hands folded over the handle of his cane. Abruptly, she noticed that he was without his usual suit jacket, and instead was in just a checked dress shirt with a solid color tie. It was disarmingly casual.

“I was just making some dinner,” he said. “Since you’re early, I suppose you can join me, if you like.”

Belle blinked. Dinner. Dinner was so...normal. Dinner was a thing she did on dates before she let someone see her in her underwear, which was not what this was. But at the very mention of food, the scent wafted in from the kitchen once more, and she realized how hungry she was. She hadn’t had anything to eat since lunch, which she barely picked at anyway as her nerves about tonight grew and grew.

“Uh, yeah, o-okay,” she managed.

At that, Gold’s lips curved a bit more, and he motioned with a hand in the direction of the kitchen. She turned and walked ahead of him, her hand tight on her purse strap, as if she expected him to attack her or hit her over the head with something at a moment’s notice. It was ridiculous, she knew that, but the situation was ridiculous, and clearly her nerves were still getting the better of her.

The kitchen was quite well appointed and large, with a wide gas stove top set in an island with three bar stools at one end. Delicate pendants hung over the span of dark granite, an old fashioned style with those bare filament bulbs and a dark metal finish around the top. Her eyes darted around the space as Gold went to work at the stove. There was a pot of something bubbling away, and when he removed the lid, the room flooded with the scent. She let out a sound that was half contented hum, half moan at the enticing aroma, as she leaned forward over the edge of the counter.

He gave the contents of the pot a stir, and then retrieved two plates from a cabinet along with silverware from a nearby drawer. In a matter of a minute or two, he had dished up two servings of some sort of stew over a pile of fluffy mashed potatoes. She could see bits of beef, carrot, and pearl onions in a fragrant gravy, and her stomach rumbled loudly.

Gold glanced at her, eyebrows lifted. “The dining room is through there, if you’d like to have a seat,” he said, with a nod towards a room off the kitchen. “I’ll just be a moment.”

Without a word, she picked up her plate and utensils, and made her way through into the dining room. It was a long, narrow space that connected back around to the sitting room at the front of the house. There was a sizable table in the center with a total of six chairs, and an old fireplace on the outside wall that had been retrofitted with a gas insert. It was giving off a soothing heat, and she sighed as she came around the table. She set her plate down and leaned her elbows on the table, resting her head on her folded hands, breathing slow and deep as the fire warmed her back.

“Alright?”

Belle looked up and then straightened, nodding as Gold came into the room, his plate in his free hand, and a bottle of wine tucked under his arm. “Yeah,” she said. “Fine.”

He returned to the kitchen to fetch two glasses, and came back a moment later to take the seat directly across from her. “Drink?”

She nodded dazedly, though whether that was because of lack of food, or because it was entirely too surreal that she was having dinner with Mr. Gold, in his house, which he himself had cooked, she couldn’t say.

“Beef burgundy,” he said as he popped the cork from the bottle and poured some wine into each glass. “Seemed like the thing for a cold winter night.”

“So you’re Julia Child?” She said it without thinking, and for a second she was worried he wouldn’t find it funny, but then he grinned crookedly.

“Hardly. But I think I do well enough.”

A half hour or so later, Belle would have to say that Gold did more than well enough. The best meal she’d had in ages, it was altogether warm and earthy, with beef so tender that it fell apart under the weight of her fork. The potatoes were the perfect thing to hold all the delicious bits of vegetables together, and scoop up the gravy which was made rich with red wine and bits of bacon. She set her fork down with a light clatter against the plate, and tossed back the last swallow of wine in her glass, which she was quite certain was a brand and vintage that cost at least half a day’s pay.

The thing that surprised her the most, aside from the delightful explosion of garlic with every bite of mushroom, was that they’d managed to fill the silence with something resembling actual conversation. It was mostly about food and cooking, something about which Gold seemed quite passionate and opinionated, but it flowed well, and for a time she forgot that this wasn’t a dinner between acquaintances. It was a business transaction, and too soon the food and wine were gone, and she started anticipating having to keep up her end of things.

She helped Gold clear the table, but he shooed her from the kitchen before long, sending her to the study. The room had double french doors at the entrance, a high ceiling, and a stone fireplace that would have matched well with the chandelier in the foyer in a fourteenth century castle. A rush of warmth washed over her as she opened the doors, and she smiled as she looked around. Flanking either side of the fireplace were floor to ceiling bookshelves, that contained all manner of books and collections, as well a small, but well stocked, wet bar. There was a large mahogany desk at one end of the room where a bank of windows looked out onto the backyard, and at the other was a wide china cabinet with even more little treasures.

Two high back upholstered chairs sat to either side of the fireplace, with a large rectangular ottoman in tufted leather that seemed to take the place of a standard coffee table. There was a sofa as well, facing the hearth, that matched the ottoman. The walls were wallpapered, but framed art of all kinds, hung on every one of them, and above the fireplace mantle was an appropriately sized television. A professional designer would probably find it an eclectic mess, but Belle thought it was cozy and charming, exactly the sort of room that one wanted to relax in while the wind howled and the snow fell.

She was just about to peruse Gold’s collection of books when he appeared in the doorway. “It’s after seven.”

His expression was more subdued than when they were eating, and she swallowed hard, feeling the abrupt shift in the tone of the evening.

“Right,” she said, willing her stomach not to give up the food she’d just consumed. “Where should I -?”

“There’s a powder room through there, just before you get to the kitchen,” he replied. “You’ll find what you need in there.”

And there it was.

The facade that had been in place during their meal had lifted, and Gold was back to being Gold. Standing with his hands folded on his cane and with his suit jacket in place, he was, as always, impeccable and imperceptible. She couldn’t pretend this was anything else but what it was, and the uncomfortable knot in her throat returned as she passed by him.

The half bath was located under the stairs, and though a wall somewhere had been adjusted to accommodate it, the slant of the ceiling made it feel smaller than it was. The odd shadows cast by the sconces over the sink, and the way the toilet was tucked into an angled niche, made it feel like a cell in a dungeon.

Belle stepped inside, closed the door, and froze. Hanging on a brass hook on the back of the door was the black chemise she’d brandished in his shop. It was fairly tame as such things went, being plain black silk with lace trim adorning the edge of the bust and hem. The most tantalizing thing about it was the spaghetti straps, and some of her anxiety was alleviated by the fact that he had chosen the least revealing thing in the collection. Of course that meant there were plenty of scandalous items left to embarrass her.

There was a set of metal shelves to the left of the pedestal sink, containing a basket of extra toilet paper, and a bottle of hand soap. She set her purse down on one of the free shelves at the bottom, and then sat down on the closed lid of the toilet to take her boots off. Midway through unzipping the first one, it dawned on her that she didn’t have anything to wear on her feet. Of course on her honeymoon that wasn’t such a big deal, though a few items she’d planned to pair with some sexy heels. She sat for a long moment contemplating what to do, and finally shook her head. Bare feet would have to do, and if Gold didn’t like it, well that was his problem. He was getting what he paid for and no more.

As Belle pulled her sweater dress up over her head, she wondered if she should have asked him for a contract. But that would have meant a paper trail that said she was selling her lingerie clad body to Gold. Proof was the last thing she needed, though she supposed he could be planning to take pictures of her or something equally damning. There were rumors that he’d blackmailed the former mayor, but it was so many years ago now that no one really knew for sure.

She stripped off the rest of her clothes and hastily folded them before setting them on the shelf next to her purse. Then she removed the chemise from the hanger and slipped it over her head, the cool silk skimming down her bare body and making her shiver. After a moment’s hesitation, she firmly decided she was keeping her panties on for this one. They weren’t visible through the material of the chemise, and were a similar black with lace trim style.

Turning to the door, she caught her reflection in the brass framed mirror above the sink, and paused. The chemise wasn’t form fitting or clingy, but like most things made of silk and lace it didn’t leave a lot to the imagination. Still, it wasn’t that much more revealing than her favorite blue sundress as far as cut and material went.

And yet it was.

It was an undergarment she had purchased for the sole purpose of wearing it as a preamble to sex. It was a statement, an invitation.

Belle forced her eyes away from the mirror and took a breath as she opened the powder room door. The hallway was chilly, and she shivered again as her bare feet made contact with the cold wood floor. She was grateful that the study was so warm, and wondering if he’d planned it so, starting a fire and closing the doors to keep the heat in. It was strangely thoughtful, which was as incongruous with what she knew about Mr. Gold as much as the fact that he’d served her dinner.

Shaking her head, she made herself step forward and then around the corner, heading back down the short hallway. The faint draft from the front door brushed across her, raising goosebumps on her arms, legs, and - elsewhere. She stopped just before the threshold of the study and looked down to see the front of the chemise doing nothing to hide her pebbled nipples. With a roll of her eyes, she pushed open one of the french doors, and stepped into the room.

Gold was seated in one of the chairs, facing the door, and Belle could feel his eyes on her as soon as she came into view. She tried not to look at him as she made her way around the end of the sofa, but when she reached the ottoman, it became almost impossible. Her eyes lifted and met his, and for a long moment she felt frozen in place.

The side of her that was near to the fire was quite warm, but the other side was still chilled from the hallway. She felt another tingle of goosebumps across her skin, and clenched her jaw to keep from looking down at herself lest she draw his attention to the obvious.

Gold’s eyes were dark, his features shadowed by the glow of the fireplace, but she knew instinctively that his gaze was traveling up and down her body, taking in every inch of her. He was reclined casually, right leg crossed over the left, and his elbows on the arms of the chair as she stood just a few feet in front of him. The handle of his cane glinted in the low light, and she had the absurd impression that this might be what meeting the Devil was like.

“Mr. Gold?” she said quietly.

He shifted in his seat and let his eyes bore straight into hers for a long moment before he raised a hand and made a circular motion with one long finger. “Turn around.”

She suppressed a shiver at the low, soft tone of his voice, and the way it made his accent heavier. Slowly, she pivoted on her heel, shifting her feet until she had turned in a complete circle. When she faced him again, his expression had changed slightly, his lips parted as he breathed out a whispered lovely. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to hear it, so she said nothing.

Then he licked at his bottom lip and then gave her a small smile. “Would you pour me a drink?”

Belle blinked, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly.

“Scotch,” he added, indicating the area to the right of the fireplace that she’d noticed earlier. “Neat.”

“Yeah,” she finally managed, “sure.”

She turned and moved to the bar, where she found a short, cut crystal glass and a tall bottle with a name she recognized. It was probably from one of the locked boxes wine and liquor stores usually kept the expensive brands in, the brands where if you had to ask how much the bottle cost you probably couldn’t afford it. Of course Gold was a scotch man. Neat suit, neat scotch, and her lips twitched in odd amusement as she poured the drink.

A heady, earthy scent wafted up from the glass as she picked it up and carried over to where Gold was sitting. She walked by the ottoman and came to stand at the arm of the chair where there was a small side table. He lifted his hand, and she placed the glass in it, but as he lowered it back to the arm of the chair, his knuckles just barely brushed the black silk covering her thigh.

She stepped back quickly, her breath catching and her eyes going wide, but his face betrayed nothing. It was as if he hadn’t noticed, much less done it intentionally, and she exhaled in relief.

“Thank you, Miss French.” He took a small sip of the scotch, his gaze fixed on her over the rim of the glass, and then set the drink down. “Would you like one?”

Belle shook her head. “No thanks.”

“Very well then.”

His words felt final, and when he looked away from her, she knew her task was done. There was something strange about it, dismissive, and it left her unsettled. She hurried back to the powder room, and changed back into her sweater dress and leggings. She was overly warm by the time she was done, and blew a breath upwards at her forehead, ruffling her hair. Unsure of what to do with the chemise, she put it back on the hanger and left it on the back of the door. They hadn’t discussed whether she should take the lingerie back or not. If she kept it, she planned to throw it all in the dumpster with the rest of the remnants of her relationship with Garrett, but what use would it be to Gold?

That was a line of thinking she didn’t want to pursue.

When she came out of the bathroom, Gold was nowhere to be seen, but she could hear music coming from the direction of the study. She went to retrieve her coat, and when she turned around to put it on, there he was, with a yellow mailing envelope in his free hand. He waited while she put her coat and gloves on, and then handed her the envelope. It was a noticeable thickness to the contents, and her heart rate increased as she felt the rectangular shape of what was inside. He’d paid her in cash, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever held that much money at one time.

“I thought it was best not to have a paper trail” he said, once again folding his hands over his cane. “I assure you it’s all there.”

She gave him a brief nod before she tucked it in her purse. “I believe you.”

One of his eyebrows lifted at that, but he otherwise remained passive as he pulled open the front door. “Good night, Miss French.”

“Good night, Mr. Gold.”

She stepped out onto the porch, the chilly air a welcome relief on her face, but then he leaned out to add, “Do be on time next week.”

She nodded again, and then turned away, hurrying down the steps before he had closed the door. Nothing he’d done was impolite or disrespectful, and indeed she had to admit that the majority of the evening was actually quite pleasant, if also a touch awkward. Yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes on her. There was a crawling sensation on her skin that made her itch, and all she wanted was to get home and take another shower.

Gold sighed and walked back into the study, leaning heavily on his cane.

He had immediately shed his suit jacket and tie after closing the front door, leaving them draped over the end of the banister to be taken upstairs when he went to bed. Reaching up, he popped the top two buttons on his dress shirt, but he still felt like he couldn’t breathe. The scotch wasn’t helping as it usually did, but he picked up the glass and took a large swallow before dropping down into the chair.

His eyes closed as he leaned back, conjuring the image of Belle French standing in his room in a silky black slip. The length had been demure, the lace no more than a pretty adornment, but it still affected him more than he anticipated. She was as lovely as he knew she would be, and clearly nervous.

Opening his eyes, he sighed again and stared into the fire.

Of course she was anxious about the situation, he was taking advantage of her, having her parade around wearing next to nothing while he watched like a lecherous bastard. It was perhaps the most selfish and base thing he’d ever done, but the moment when she’d looked at him, covered in soft silk and lace, half curious and half afraid, he’d felt a rush of excitement unlike anything he’d felt in years. It was delight and desire and depravity all in one. He shifted in his seat as the sensation washed over him again. When it was over, it would be final. He knew she would likely never speak to him again, but for this short time, one night a week, for as long as her collection of unmentionables lasted, she was his.

The fire snapped loudly, shaking him from his fantasy. He took up his cane and stood abruptly, deciding to forgo a second drink in favor of a cold shower and an early bedtime.

[tepkunset]

Are there any other indigenous people in X-men? Like islanders?

So here’s a list of every Indigenous mutant in Marvel Comics (Earth 616) that I know of. Unfortunately, some are just straight up offensive. But there are a number of underappreciated gems!

Dani Moonstar AKA Mirage (Obviously gotta start with my fave)

Cheyenne

Illusory powers (originally her powers were creating illusions of peoples’ fears. Overtime her illusions eventually expanded to pretty much anything she wants. After she gets fried by the High Evolutionary’s machinery, her illusions could become solid objects, but she could only have one at a time. And during her time undercover with the MLF she developed the ability to channel her illusions into psonic arrows that stun people, trapping them in their nightmares. This is what she mostly uses, currently. (TBH I’d really like to see writers remember her abilities have far more uses than just that... Like, remember that time she recreated Jimmy’s whole damn farm and family so he could ‘see’ them again?)

Dani is also a valkyrie with the ability to sense death

Original member of the New Mutants

Honestly the best character on this list IMO. I could ramble about how awesome Dani is for days...

Forge

Cheyenne

Superhuman mechanical ingenuity/genius (kind of a complicated power, but basically his mutation is that he can understand machines and create anything he can imagine. Like a mutant Tony Stark except better in every way, fight me.)

Back in the day he also dabbled in sorcery but turned out uh Not Good and he hasn’t since

He’s been a member of a bunch of different X-Men teams and none of them have ever given him the respect he deserves

I like Forge a lot TBH, especially after the sorcery thing was dropped and forgotten

A shame we will probably never get to know his real name

Lucas Bishop AKA Bishop

Indigenous Australian (Unknown Nation)

Energy absorption and redirection, subsequently super durability (if you blast him he will just blast you back)

Bishop isn’t technically from 616, being born in a dark future, but has existed in the main universe for as long as he’s been around. He’s been a team member in Uncanny X-Men and X-Treme X-Men but then went through a period as an enemy, mostly cause he has a That’s So Raven syndrome where he thinks he's shaping the future for the better and fucks things up. Can’t say I’m a fan in the way he was used as an inconvenience for Cable, but otherwise you can count on Bishop for being pretty damn cool.

Just a warning for anyone unfamiliar with him but wants to read up on him: His background may be triggering. The tattoo over his eye isn’t a choice, but a brand he received when put into the mutant concentration camp where he was born in.

Shard Bishop AKA Shard

Indigenous Australian (Unknown Nation)

Energy blasts from light

Shard is Bishop’s younger sister, and therefore also not technically from 616. She’s also not nearly as prominent a character, but was member of X-Factor for a while.

Honestly, Shard was never actually given a chance to do anything and her relationship with Fitzroy (green haired, slimy time travelling serial killer) is BS. 

James Proudstar AKA Warpath

Apache

Super strength, speed, senses, stamina, reflexes, durability, healing, and flight (everyone forgets the flight)

Also he’s over 7 feet tall which is its own superpower

John Proudstar’s younger brother

Sadly, Jimmy chronically suffers from writers not having a sweet clue what to do with him or how to write him. Swear to god, no one should be allowed to touch him before reading X-Force vol 1 after Liefeld left. James appearing to be scary to people who don’t know him and actually being a sweetheart is the whole deal with his character. He is not a violent raging edgelord! Everyone at Marvel just collectively forgot he rejected the name Warpath after starting to come to terms with the death of his family, too. 

Anyway, I love James with pure spite and venom and would love to fistfight all the writers who’ve done him dirty over the years...

John Proudstar AKA Thunderbird (speaking of getting done dirty)

Apache

Super strength, speed, senses, stamina, reflexes and durability

James Proudstar’s older brother

This poor bastard was created to die for shock value, and has been one of the few X-Men for which death has not been a revolving door. For the brief time he was around, he was portrayed as nothing but a jerk, too. It’s only in brief flashbacks that he’s ever been given more character. Also that one Chaos World mini.

Gloria Muñoz AKA Risque

Seminole

Can make objects implode (think the opposite of Gambit)

Risque was an anti-hero/anti-villain associated with the original X-Factor, and formerly James’ GF. She was a complicated character and deserved a redemption arc. That’s a hill I’m gonna die on.

John Greycrow AKA... I don’t even wanna say it

Unknown Nation

Technology manipulation (can like, turn a gun into a different gun for example), super healing

Scalphunter. His name is fucking scalphunter. And just like the other Indigenous Marauder member on this list, he’s been nothing but a lingering racist caricature. He is currently a protagonist in the running Hellions series and I honestly do not know what miracle Zeb Wells thinks he can pull to reinvent this character, but I guess we’ll just have to see.

Kodiak Noatak AKA Harpoon

Inuit

Can supercharge his harpoon with energy

That’s right, the Marauders don’t have just one, but two racist as fuck caricatures! He also... for some reason... speaks... like this a lot... I sure... wonder why...

Gateway

Indigenous Australian (Unknown Nation)

Teleportation portal creation

Oh look, it’s the X-Men’s bus ticket. Seriously, Gateway is nothing but a silent teleporter for the X-Men to travel around by, and another racist caricature. However, there is one good thing to come out of Gateway’s existence, and that’s that without him, we may never have gotten...

Eden Fesi AKA Manifold

Indigenous Australian (Unknown Nation)

Teleportation portal creation (and some interesting ways of using it too)

I swear Hickman must have looked back at Gatway and thought, you know what, let’s try that again except not offensive. Eden is pretty cool, and one of the three reasons I read Avengers vol 5 (the other two being Bobby and Sam). It’s a shame he’s never gotten the chance to interact with the X-Men, what with being a mutant and all. I would love to see him on Krakoa. Given that Hickman is at the helm and Eden is a Hickman character, I don’t think it’s too far-fetched of a hope?

Yeah, that’s all I can think of, unfortunately. Really makes you wish there were more, huh.

BONUS:

Julio Richter AKA Rictor

Listen. I will fight to my last dying breath to defend what I have always seen as the obvious; Julio was created with the intention of him being an Indigenous Mexican boy. I legit have a half-done powerpoint presentation about it that I never finished upon realizing no one would take me seriously when I sound like this mapping out all the evidence -

[frasermacintosh]

IT’S MY PARTY AND I’LL CRY IF I WANT TO → STRAWBERRY LEMONADE

TAGGING → Fraser Macintosh & Lemon La Bouff ( @lemonlabouff )

TIMELINE → August 14th, 2021

SETTING → Lemon and Carter La Bouff’s 20th Birthday Party

SUMMARY → It’s the La Bouff twins’ 20th birthday party, and the speak-easy 20′s theme is perfection. Everything goes according to plan until Lemon has her first kiss during a party game of all things, and she and one of her oldest friends end up shoved in a closet so that, thankfully, the tears she sheds afterwards aren’t seen by the public. When you play a mashup of Suck N Blow and 7 Minutes in Heaven, anything can happen.

Fraser would've been excited to attend Lemon and Carter's birthday no matter what, but the speakeasy 20's theme had definitely been a huge draw; it gave him a great excuse to dress up in a plaid suit with a bowtie, suspenders, and even a hat, even though that last one didn't stay on for long. After all, the Macintosh hair was too beautiful to hide. It wasn't until a big circle of people signing up to play Suck N Seven Minutes started forming though that his jacket was also tossed to the side. He would've been surprised that something like a kissing game was happening at a party of the La Bouff's, but then again, the party had been advertised as debaucherous, so why not?

He shuffled into place along with everyone else, bumping shoulders with the birthday girl as he did so. She started off the game, facing away from Fraser and passing on the playing card to the player on her other side, and from there, one person to the next passed on the card using only their lips. This version had a fun twist, where whichever pair fumbled the card had to spend seven minutes in the nearest closet, doing whatever they wanted. Fraser couldn't help grinning as the game continued, his eyes scanning the circle excitedly to see who'd be the first two who dropped the ball. When it was some people halfway across the circle from them, he joined in with everyone else laughing or jeering as the two headed off to the aforementioned closet.

"I'm sure I'm like the millionth person to tell you this party is awesome," Fraser laughed, turning to Lemon to make some conversation while someone nearby counted down seven minutes. "How many more games like this are there going to be? Because I didn't exfoliate my lips for nothing."

As much as Lemon liked to believe that every party she and Carter had ever thrown were the most perfect events to ever be curated by “visionaries such as themselves”, she was absolutely certain that they all vastly paled in comparison to their 1920’s themed 20th birthday party. The La Bouffs had really splashed out on giving the twins the perfect vintage speakeasy experience right down to a live band playing modern music in the style of music from the 1920s and a bar that served real moonshine cocktails “for the guests over 21”.

Plus everyone was actually more than keen to go along with the recommended vibe of debaucherous, which was perfect considering Lemon had no intention on actually participating in any of the risque games she’d come up with to give the party that trashy great gatsby 2013-esque vibe herself. The closest she planned to actually participate was by sitting in the circle for  Suck N Seven minutes and daintily sip bourbon from the fancy flask she’d bought to wear in the garter that had come with her glittering white flapper dress while everyone else did all the kissing and lord knows what else in the closet. She’d even specifically practiced the game enough times at home alone to ensure that she wouldn’t accidentally slip up and have to kiss anyone.

“More like the millionth and first person to tell be how great this party is, but feel free to say it more times.” Lemon said, dramatically flipping her hair over her shoulder as she jokingly basked in the praise. “There are a few more games coming. Do you have any one in particular you want to kiss tonight? I’m sure I could rig one of them to work out in your favor.”

"Am I also the millionth and first person to tell you how much this look suits you then?" Fraser tried again cheekily; it was true, Lemon in that dress with her hair flung over her shoulder was basically an art piece. "Because I thought I looked good but you somehow almost look as good as me. Kudos." Maybe by the end of her birthday, he'd tell her that she looked even better than him, but that felt unnecessarily kind, especially when the present he had brought her would probably put everyone else's to shame.

He considered her question for a few more moments, then shook his head. "Nah, not really. I'm an equal opportunity kisser. After all, luck works in mysterious ways. Everyone here deserves the chance. Thanks, though. What about you? Any games rigged in particular for the birthday girl? You can tell me, I can keep a secret," Fraser joked. He was pretty sure that the answer was no, but ribbing Lemon was always fun. It was definitely more fun than waiting for the seven minutes to be up.

“Probably! I do look like such an amuse-gueule, don’t I?” Lemon struck a couple of silly poses to showcase how great she looked before elbowing Fraser hard in the arm. “Dream on, Chere. There isn’t a person here tonight that could ever hope to outshine me and as cute as your bowtie is, you could never.”

Even though Lemon knew full well that Fraser knew her well enough to know that she’d never rig a game so she’d have to do anything with any of her party guests, she couldn’t help but meaningfully look over at Romeo Dubois and let out an exaggerated sigh. Despite having ice in his wine like the grossest trainwreck alive, Lemon really understood how Gatsby must’ve felt staring out at Daisy’s green light, so close but so far away from what he wanted the most. “You already know my biggest secret and unfortunately that’s something I can’t even rig.” Looking away from Romeo before she felt anything other than complete happiness over her success of a birthday party, Lemon pulled the flask out of her garter and took a sip before offering it to Fraser. “Want some?”

"I don't know what an amuse-guele is but if that means that you look like you showered today, sure," Fraser joked, underplaying how gorgeous his friend was partially for humor but also because compliments had to be worked for. When she elbowed him, he gripped his arm and let out an exaggerated "Ow!" and laughed to cover up the fact that it actually hurt a little bit. "Hey, don't damage the goods! I get that your beauty is feeling threatened but bruising me won't make me less awesome."

Fraser fought the urge to roll his eyes so hard at Lemon's theatrics that his eyes actually strained. He knew she had a crush on Romeo but that he didn't mean he liked it. The dude was weird and somehow let the fact that one of the coolest girls alive was into him just pass him by. "Yeah, well, it's his loss. Chalk it up to bad taste -- because seriously, who drinks wine with ice?" Fraser asked, his nose wrinkling.

He burst out into a smile at the sight of the flask and nodded. "Fuck yeah! Now it's a party!" Fraser wasn't sure what was in it but any alcohol was better than none. "Cheers to you, birthday girl! May no one make a baby in the closet of your party," he joked as he took a hearty sip and the door of the closet opened and the couple came back out, visibly rumpled.

“It’s french for party snack, you imbecile.” Lemon laughed, rolling her eyes in reaction to Fraser’s antics. “Must I remind you that denial is not only a river in Egypt.  I could never feel threatened by you, but especially not tonight. Not even Snow White herself could convince me that I’m not the best looking person here.”

Lemon wrinkled her nose a little in distaste, because really who DID drink wine with ice in it? But refused to actually comment on the matter because in her opinion it was rather distasteful to secretly diss the one you love, no matter how bad his taste really was.  

“Oh disgusting, don’t jinx my party!” Lemon squealed, snagging her flask back before realizing that the closet couple had come out and definitely had been doing more than just perusing the coats in there. Once the couple sat back down, the person that had dropped the card smugly passed it on to the next person and the game began again where they’d left off. Lemon elbowed Fraser one last time for good measure. “If someone gets knocked up in there, I’m directing them right to you to blame.”

"Don't call me an imbelice, ya dobber," Fraser laughed right back, shaking his head at her. He wanted to argue further, but the truth was that Snow White herself couldn't hold a candle to Lemon tonight, and it wasn't just her look. It was how excited she was for her party written all over her face. All he really could say was, "Historically, it'd be the Magic Mirror trying to convince you, not Queen White, but if you say so, birthday girl."

Fraser tried his hardest not to spit out any of the alcohol as the flask got snatched away, and his forehead crumpled in confusion. "Hey!" he blurted, swallowing hard. "You better let me get another sip later, that was actually pretty good shit." He fought the urge to elbow Lemon back, not wanting to leave the birthday girl bruised. "If someone gets knocked up in here, it's entirely a result of your debaucherous theme, not because of anything I did! If you direct them to me, I'm going to encourage them to name the baby Lemon. Luckily it works for whatever gender."

There was a close call between two party-goers with the card but with some crouching, they were able to keep the card going until it got closer to Fraser. He took it from the girl on one side of him and winked at her, and when she gave him a flirty face back, it made him think that maybe she was someone worth talking to after this game was over. After all, it was a party! It was the perfect time to talk to a new beautiful girl. He turned to Lemon with the card, but then a chuckle that was stuck in the back of his throat from flirting with the other girl disrupted the surface tension and he felt his top lip connect to Lemon's.

His eyes opened wide in surprise but as the card dropped, he let himself turn the lip touch into a slight smooch, because why not? It was a party! And it may have just been a peck but it sure was fun, especially as everybody ooooohed and awwwwed and pushed them to the closet, opening the door for them and slamming it shut, leaving them alone in near darkness.

“Don’t be an imbecile then.” Lemon responded breezily, waving away the semantics of his response away with another eyeroll and a flip of her hand. Fraser clearly knew what she meant so who cared if she hadn’t said it quite right.

Lemon grinned  at Fraser’s protest when she took her flask back. She’d “borrowed” it from her grandfather’s personal stash and it was easily the most expensive and best tasting alcohol there. “The theme is not debauchery. The theme is 1920s speakeasy, the suggested vibe is debaucherous, there’s a difference. You’re the one actively speaking a baby into existence on them, so if you’re going to encourage them to name it Lemon, I’m going to tell them to make the middle name Strawberry. Then it’ll have all the correct acknowledgments attached to it and it’ll match.”

Lemon watched the game go around in amusement, at least until it got closer to her and the amusement turned into focused determination to not drop it on her turn. Luckily…or rather... Unluckily, she didn’t have a thing to worry about on her turn because instead of the cool touch of the card pressing against her lips, it was the warm lips of one of her oldest friends.

Lemon felt like her blood was turning to ice water in her veins as Fraser made it more of a kiss than just an itsy bitsy gross lip touch they could spend the next seven minutes in the closet giggling about. It was officially her first kiss and NOT the way it was supposed to go. After backing out of kissing Myles earlier in the year, Lemon had decided that her first kiss would be strictly reserved for the boy she actually loved and as much as she loved Fraser as a friend, he was simply not Romeo.

As soon as they got shoved in the closet Lemon had no idea what to do other than burst into tears. Not loudly in case anyone close could hear them but enough to make it more than clear to Fraser that absolutely nothing in the in the closet would be matching the aforementioned debaucherous party vibe.

"Lemon Strawberry. Sounds delicious... and like they'll be teased for the rest of their life," Fraser laughed, faux-shuddering at the very thought. "They might as well go by Strawberry Lemonade or something else that sounds like it's from a children's television show." He was probably thinking about it too much and he wondered if maybe they were talking a baby into existence; he decided that if they did, he wouldn't feel guilty. It'd just be further proof of how awesome he was, that he could make a baby without having to be physically involved at all.

Unfortunately for him, something was about to happen to make him feel solidly un-awesome. He didn't think a kiss between friends could possibly be a bad thing, especially when that friend was as cool as Lemon usually was, but by the time they got pushed into the closet, it was obvious that she didn't share that sentiment. She was crying like her husband had just gone off to war and it left him feeling too many things at the same time. There was concern, obviously, because if a friend was sobbing, any sane human would be concerned.

But more than that, there was annoyance and major insult that, all together, felt a lot like hurt. Fraser didn't spend a lot of his free time wondering what it'd be like kissing Lemon but once it happened, he figured it was something they'd enjoy, or at least be able to laugh about. He knew he wasn't her precious Romeo, but he also wasn't the short weird art kid from the Isle that she'd kissed already either, and from what he knew, she didn't weep when that one happened.

He was hoping something closer to the concerned end of his emotional spectrum would come out when he did finally get over the shock of her tears enough to talk, but what actually escaped him was something like "What the hell are you crying about?! You'd think I slapped you or something. It was just a kiss, Líomóid! It's kind of the whole point of the game! Get a grip." He didn't mean to sound so angry, but he felt rejected, and by someone he wasn't even out to get! The fun he'd been having with her at the party had died and was like a heavy beast was sitting in his chest now. Fraser turned away from her with crossed arms, not able to handle looking at her tears for one more second.

“I’m crying because you ruined my birthday!” Lemon yelled back, dramatically stomping her foot like a character in a movie to emphasize her point. What right did Fraser have to be angry at her for getting upset? It wasn’t his first kiss that had been thrown away in front of so many witnesses. It wasn’t his 20th birthday that would forever be tainted by losing a game she’d specifically come up with to make EVERYONE ELSE look kinda trashy. As far as Lemon was concerned, Fraser had won the freaking lottery, He’d gotten to kiss her!

Lemon used all her strength to turn Fraser back around to face her. “What are you, a five year old? You don’t get to turn  around when I’m mad at you! I’m crying and it’s your fault because YOU couldn’t play a stupid game right, so now you have to look at me.”

He was glad to be facing away from her, because otherwise Lemon would've seen Fraser roll his eyes at her claiming he "ruined" her birthday. She still might've heard his huff, but to be fair, he wasn't trying to be quiet. She deserved to know she sounded ridiculous, and if she was going to stomp her little foot at him, then him huffing at her was more than called for. After all, what kind of party was made worse by kissing the hottest person in the room?

But then she tried to get his attention and got him to face her again and he couldn't hold in the annoyance any longer. "You're calling me a five year old?! Seriously?! You're the one sobbing because, what, you accidentally kissed the best guy at the party? The only reason anyone should be kissing after kissing me is because they didn't get to kiss me longer, so get over yourself. It was just a stupid game and you're the one deciding to cry about it, not me, so no, I don't want to look at you. In fact ---"

Fraser cut himself off and moved towards Lemon, picking her up and spinning them around so she was facing away. "Now just stay there for the rest of the seven minutes, fuck."

Lemon let out a loud scream of rage when Fraser picked her up and faced her away like SHE was the one acting like a poorly behaved toddler now. She turned right back around and put her hands on her hips angrily. “Quit it! You’re not the best boy here by a LOOONG shot! If anything you’re the WORST boy here and I couldn’t have gotten stuck with a worse first kiss if I TRIED! And considering the applications I got in January, that’s saying a LOT and that’s why I’m crying. Because You’re the worst!” Then because Lemon couldn’t think of a better way to end it, she turned right back around and crossed her own arms this time.

Fraser hadn't been expecting her to yell but people yelled plenty back home in his part of Dunbroch, and yelling back was how someone showed that they weren't backing down, which he wasn't, so he yelled back and didn't stop until she did. He was way too fired up to just roll over and take her weird ass breakdown, because he hadn't done anything wrong, so when she turned back around, he rolled up his sleeves, ready to roll with whatever dumb punches she dropped. Saying he was the worst was a terrible start on her part, because if there was one thing Fraser knew with all his heart, it was that he was truly the best at everything, kissing included. The more she prattled on, though, the more things started making sense.

"UGH!" he groaned, walking around Lemon so his back was against the closet wall and he could face her again without spinning her around. "What are you saying? That you, what, didn't kiss the short art kid?" The anger on his face dissipated for a moment as he took in the fact that Lemon lost her first kiss at a party, during a dumb game, which definitely wasn't on brand for her. But then he realized that she was disappointed about him as a first kiss when he was clearly a better option than anyone else she could find, and his forehead creased again. "I'm sorry your first kiss wasn't how you wanted it to go but I didn't know it was your first! And it's not my fault that you lied about that! And I know I should apologize, but I'm a hundred percent an upgrade to that guy, or any other guy who applied to your weird kiss resume thing! So just... quit crying, okay? Please?"

He let out a sigh and his shoulders crumbled forward. "It was just a game anyway. A lot of people don't even count games, so we could just say it doesn't count. Besides, it's not like I gave you a real kiss anyway."

“Yes! Obviously I didn’t kiss Myles. Why would I ever be this upset if I had kissed someone before!” Admittedly Lemon probably still would’ve cried in the closet if she’d kissed ten boys before this. She hated doing anything that she didn’t have written down to the minute in her planner. But still. “I know you didn’t know but that still doesn’t give you the right to yell at me for crying! I’m upset and you’re screaming at me! How am I supposed to stop crying!”  

Lemon sniffled hard, actually attempting to stop crying but at this point it was too late and her tears weren’t going to be stopping for a minute. She really hoped it would at least be before it was time to come out of the closet, luckily after years of watching her mother look like an absolute lunatic after crying jags Lemon had always made it a point to only buy waterproof eyeliner and mascara, so if she could get it together she probably wouldn’t look that wrecked when they left. “It was a game but I count games and so do a lot of other people so it counts to me. Lips touching like that is totally a real kiss, what are you talking about?”

Fraser snorted at the 'obviously', not feeling the need to point out once again that she'd lied about her whole insane kiss application thing and thus it wasn't 'obvious' at all. "I don't know, you're asking me to make sense out of a crazy woman's brain!" She did have a point though and so Fraser let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head. "Fine, fine, whatever, consider my screaming done. It's just..." He didn't know how to tell her how insulted he really was, so he just didn't. He let himself trail off and kept shaking his head, not sure what to say.

Besides, seeing Lemon all sniffly and sad did kind of send a solid, genuine pang of regret through him. He kind of wished he could go back and change what happened, but for all he knew, Lemon would've gotten upset and counted it as a kiss no matter what, just because it wasn't what she'd expected. "It's the people who don't kiss people outside of games who count them," he tried, his tone way softer than it'd been a minute ago. "Once you're out there in the real world, kissing the actual guy you want to be kissing, you'll realize this one didn't count at all. It can be erased from history then."

He couldn't help but crack a little bit of a smile at her last question and he shrugged a shoulder. "Lips touching is just lips touching; you wouldn't call hands brushing past each other 'holding hands', would you? Kissing is more than a brief graze. I mean, we weren't even touching each other anywhere, and we were standing way too far apart. A real kiss would've left you swooning, not crying. Especially if it was from me." He paused but then curiosity overcame him. "But uh, why didn't you kiss Myles? You did that whole application thing presumably to avoid situations like this and then you just... didn't?"

“I’m not crazy!” Lemon huffed, stomping her foot again. If she hadn’t been so genuinely offended by the insult she might have gotten smug about Fraser backing down from yelling at her, but at this point she felt like it was the least he could do to still be able to be called one of her best friends by the end of the night. 

Once Fraser softened his tone for her, Lemon genuinely tried to actually listen to him and maybe believe what he was saying. But she still wasn’t buying it, especially when he insisted that if it was a real kiss from him she would’ve been swooning but that was more best friend exclusive pettiness than an knock on his skills of persuasion. 

“It just didn’t feel right. I don’t know?” She shrugged, briefly glancing around the closet to see if there was something she could dry her face with before giving up and  delicately using the side of her finger to try and dab some of her tears away. “It was like how none of my plays have been working lately. I planned it all out so perfectly and got so close to getting it done exactly the way I wanted it, but I like knew it still wasn’t actually right so I didn’t actually end up going through with it.  Plus he really is kind of short so it felt a little stupid too. But don’t tell anyone I told you or it’ll make Romeo’s height difference kink sound valid.”

Fraser raised his brows at Lemon's huffing, as if she was just proving his point about the craziness, but he didn't delve into that deeper. He didn't think he needed to, especially since he got the feeling that he'd hurt her feelings with that comment and he'd done enough damage that night as was, even though he still refused to think of the kiss thing as his fault. In any other circumstances, Lemon kissing him wouldn't be a bad thing for either of them, and he was sure of that, even though they'd obviously never prove it one way or another.

He noticed her looking for something to wipe her tears on and he sighed, pulling a handkerchief out of his pants pocket and handing it to her wordlessly. It was the one he'd had in his jacket pocket earlier and he'd wanted to hold onto it, although he hadn't anticipated it'd be for this reason. He really did feel bad for Lemon the more she explained. It was the curse of the perfectionist, and that was a curse he understood well. She got him to laugh a little bit with that last comment though and he shook his head through the chuckle.

"Don't worry, that secret dies with me, mostly because height difference kinks are stupid in the first place. Men who need height to feel like a 'man' next to their woman are wildly insecure." Fraser cleared his throat and smiled awkwardly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I'm sorry that your plans aren't as perfect in execution as they are in your head, both writing plans and kissing plans. That's what happens when your brain is better than the real world. Do you want... a hug?" Offering that felt a little weird but he also wasn't sure how else to comfort her and they probably had a few minutes left locked together in this torture chamber anyway.

Lemon gratefully took Fraser’s handkerchief with a small watery smile and dried her eyes as much as she could without rubbing them before folding it and awkwardly keeping it in her hand since she wasn’t sure what else she was supposed to do with it because handing it back seemed a little gross.

Lemon didn’t mean to laugh at Fraser’s response to her comment about Romeo’s height kink since she WAS in love with him and still kind of upset but a small giggle slipped out anyway since it was exactly the same thing she’d thought about it but had been mostly too nice to say. “You’re so right.” Lemon agreed before lifting an eyebrow at Fraser’s slight pause before the word hug. In a moment of either genius or insanity an idea popped into Lemon’s head in a flash. She pulled her flask out of her garter once more and took a big mouthful of the bourbon she’d only been using for sipping thus far before passing it over to Fraser. “Actually could you kiss me? Like for real this time? Well not for real real, but you know party real?”

The tension in the closet didn't disappear immediately at Lemon's giggle but it definitely dissipated enough for Fraser to take a small sigh of relief. So long as he hadn't totally ruined her night, or their friendship, they could make it through the rest of the party. "I'm almost always right," he added with a half-smile, glad she wasn't above admitting Romeo's  'you must be this short to ride this prince' thing wasn't weird. He'd never expect her to flat out badmouth the dude, but laughing at him was a good bonding moment, as was sharing a drink. Fraser took the flask grateful and raised it in tandem with his eyebrows before taking a big gulp.

The bourbon was still in his mouth when Lemon asked for a kiss and before he could perform a spit take which would be extra disgusting given their enclosed status, Fraser took a hard gulp to make sure all the liquid went down. "You've got to be shitting me," he said, shaking his head. "I mean, this is some sort of weird trick, right? Because your face is still slightly damp from me party kissing you before and I don't want to give you an excuse to hate me for longer than necessary." He expected her to burst out laughing, or admit it was a strange joke on her part making fun of him for wanting a hug or for fucking up so badly in the first place. It was the only reality that made sense, although his lips absentmindedly rubbed together for moisture as if his brain was preparing him for the slim to none chance that she was actually asking for what it sounded like she'd said.

Lemon’s nose scrunched up slightly in response to the rejection, she had of course expected it since it WAS a really strange thing to ask after the hissy fit she’d thrown barely minutes before hand. But their time in the closet was running out and now that she’d decided she wanted to do it, she wanted it done as soon as possible. “No, It’s not a trick! I mean it!” She insisted, using his handkerchief again to try and make her face less damp from crying. “You already got my first party kiss that may or may not have counted, so you might as well get the real one while we’re here?”

Fraser eyed Lemon suspiciously, his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to figure out whether or not he could trust Lemon's sudden shift. He didn't think she'd take it this far if it was a joke, but he also had a hard time believing she suddenly deemed him worthy when just a few seconds ago kissing him had been some sort of nightmare. The more he thought about it though, the more sense it made; after all, he knew he was better than just about any other guy she could find for this, and she already felt like she'd lost her first kiss...

The second he decided to take her up on her offer, he sighed, hoping it wasn't just the bourbon that made them both think this wasn't a bad idea. "Fine, fine, if it'll get you to shut up," he said, half-grumbling as if she'd asked him to do something far more tedious than kiss a beautiful girl. Before she could really say anything back to that, he took her cheeks into his hands and brought their faces together, some force behind it as he hastened to make sure this actually happened. Once they were in each other's space, he let his more experienced lips guide hers through an actual kiss, the kind he was sure girls wrote home about when they were lucky enough that it happened to them.

Lemon was all ready to tell Fraser that he didn’t have to kiss her if he was going to be a little bitch about it, but before she could even open her mouth it was already a little busy being kissed. Wide eyed, she instinctively wanted to push him back just for being so rushed about it, but she managed to resist the urge for long enough to realize that maybe it was for the best. She’d already backed out of one of her grand kiss schemes before, it would be even more embarrassing if she had the freedom to chicken out of the second one too. And even though she wasn’t at all sure what made someone a good or bad kisser, she could at least tell that it wasn’t an entirely unpleasant experience and a few seconds into it, managed to relax enough to close her eyes and just let it happen without trying to take control as she was wont to do with anything else in life.

Fraser's eyes had closed as soon as his lips had made contact with Lemon's, but he could still feel the hesitancy on her part. He wasn't one to pull back or quit though, especially not when he was doing this at her request in the first place, and when that hesitancy passed, it was almost like a sense of calm took its place. It was a calm that, ironically, excited him to his core, the kind of calm that, in his experience, only came with the really good kisses.

He was so used to Lemon fighting with him for the heck of it that it was weird that this felt so normal now, and he pushed some of her hair back as he deepened the kiss, lingering as long as he could and only pulling back when he needed some air.

"There. Happy now?" The snappiness he wanted in that comment was diminished significantly by the smile he didn't even realize he had on and the fact that he sounded a bit breathless, but beneath the sarcasm, he really hoped Lemon had gotten what she'd wanted out of that. If she hadn't, he'd actually maybe feel a little guilty, because he'd sure enjoyed it.

Lemon was surprised at herself when the first thing she wanted to do when Fraser finally pulled away was POUT.  It was a good kiss and kind of left her feeling a little dazed but was it good enough to allow Fraser to get a big head about and let him lord over her for the absolute rest of their lives? Not really!

Putting on her best unimpressed look, Lemon shrugged casually. “I mean, I guess I am. I’m not exactly swooning but if that’s what gets em going, okay.” She knew she was being a jerk by pretending that she hadn’t been at all moved by the kiss. But with the way she and Fraser generally operated, anything other than forcing herself to burst into tears again was absolutely unacceptable. “Merci beaucoup, for helping me get that out of the way, I guess.”

Fraser wasn't waiting for a swoon necessarily -- swooning at a kiss that happened in a closet of all places was so far from Lemon's brand that even he couldn't take it personally if she didn't -- but he was waiting for some sort of reaction to let him know she'd liked that as much as he did. It didn't feel particularly conceited to think of himself as a good kisser. After all, he'd gotten plenty of positive feedback in his day. However, when all he got in response was a shrug and an "I guess", that same feeling of rejection from when Lemon had originally burst into tears prickled around him like a particularly itchy sweater.

He shoved that down though, like one might shove down an adverse reaction to a particularly itchy sweater if it was a gift from a loved one, and just rolled his eyes at her. "It works on normal girls, so I guess I should've seen this coming," he shot back. "But yeah, yeah, you're welcome. Maybe now the next time you kiss someone, you won't turn into a freaking water park. In fact, let the next guy know he should send me a fruit basket as thanks." He smiled despite himself, clearing his throat as he heard a countdown starting on the other side of the door, probably marking down the time they had left in the closet.

Lemon rolled her eyes at the normal girls comment but smiled back at Fraser anyway. “I’ll be sure to let the next guy know.” Obviously Lemon was certain that the next guy would be her beloved Romeo, a theory that warmed her heart so much that before the count got too far down, she wrapped her arms around Fraser in a tight embrace.

“I do really appreciate you for kissing me again even though I cried and it doesn’t count. You’re such a good best friend to me.” Lemon admitted, pressing her cheek into his as she let all of her words come out in one big rushed blur to make up for how genuinely she meant it. Then she strategically waited until the countdown was done and the door opened before letting Fraser go, just so it looked like they’d been doing more than screaming at each other for most of the past seven minutes.

The hug that he'd originally asked for finally came and it nearly caught him off guard with how quickly it came to him but luckily Fraser caught Lemon in his arms in time and squeezed back. Them being the same height meant they were face to face again, in a much different way than a few moments ago though, cheek to cheek, and Lemon's words reached him quickly, privately, and unexpectedly earnestly. It made a weird lump form in his throat that he wouldn't be able to explain even if he tried.

"You're a good best friend too," he confessed in a near-whisper, as if saying it too loudly would make up for the fact that he didn't say 'I know' or something else like that. He wanted to add a cutting and inaccurate comment like 'even though you're a shit kisser' but not as much as he wanted to just stay in that moment a few seconds more, and then the door was open and he let go of her with a grin as they made their way back into the fray.

[writerfangirlbooks]

Demon in Love

Crowley x Reader

Prompt: Crowley meeting Dean and Sam's sister for the first time and falling in love at first sight and the two of you go on a date. Part 2!

Word Count: about 2250 words. 

Credit to gif owner!

"Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner tomorrow night?" Crowley asked calmly.

Your brothers had never changed moods as quickly as they had at that moment, even when hunting. They went from happily losing video games to holding their remotes threateningly, with much more seriousness. Their bodies tensed and your brothers lost the playful gleam in their eyes.

Dean appeared to have frozen in time whereas Sam barely managed to stutter out a, "What?". You glanced at Crowley's reaction, surprised to see how calm he was, smug even.

Dean finally stepped forward, pissed. "Absolutely fricking not!" Dean ordered.

Your oldest brother's reaction had you thinking rapidly in different directions. There was some form of attraction, sure. Crowley was definitely handsome, but you legit did know nothing more than his name. The more important thing you noted was that your brothers didn't seem to care that Crowley was in the Bunker. His presence was nothing short of an everyday occurrence. That was, at least, until he asked out their little sister.

Sure, your brothers were family and you always protected each other. But sometimes the three of you entered serious pranking wars with one another and what could tick them off more than you going on a date with this mystery man? Not much, you imagined... Except for maybe a ball pit or hacking their playlists.

"What's the harm?" You asked and shrugged with a small smile on your lips. You turned to face Crowley to see him match your expression.

"Pick me up at seven," you requested. You began to move past him into the hall, much to your brother's bewildered objections. Crowley stopped you, placing a hand on your arm. His eyes seemed warm and amused as you looked at him. You worked to convince yourself that there was no way he could actually see into your soul and there was also no reason for your heart to be pounding so loudly in your head.

"Five, actually," Crowley corrected, before letting you go. With a wink and a snap of his fingers, he disappeared much to your surprise.

You stopped in the middle of the doorway, where you felt like skipping to your room, until the man before you just poofed himself away. You paused a few times before trying to start a few questioning sentences about how the heck that just happened, not even processing you had your first date in a long time coming in just a day. Taking a breath, you prepared the following sentence.

"Okay, bros. So, um. First, I would like you to know that you are not going to convince me not to do this. Next, I would like a small debriefing on who Crowley is and how he just Apparated himself out of here like Harry Potter. And go!" You jokingly directed, propping yourself against the doorframe.

Your brothers deadpanned. They looked at each other with dumbstruck faces before turning back to you. Dean began to look more pissed off with each passing second and while Sam didn't seem any more excited, he appeared more amused. The taller brother noticed the stormy look Dean was wearing and spoke up.

"Why don't you uh, go grab us some beers or something while we talk, then we'll tell you, alright?" Sam asked quickly.

Dean's eyes darkened before he dramatically turned away, threw himself onto one of their chairs, and began messing with the tv screen. You began to object that there was beer in Dean's secret stash in the lower cabinet in this very room, but a raised eyebrow made you change your mind and you headed down to the kitchen.

Once you returned, you saw the boys sitting quietly. Sam jumped up when he saw you and smiled, taking the bottles from you. You took the spinny chair that had been discarded to the side of the room and sat in it, feeling much closer to your brothers' height. Dean ran a hand through his hair and finally looked up, slightly calmer.

"Alrighty! Prep me. What should I know for my date?" You smiled cheerfully, hoping to lift their moods while still tormenting them.

"Please stop calling it that. You know how easy it would be for us to lock you in your room so you never see the light of day again, Y/N? You're damn lucky I'm even considering this utter bullcrap. I don't even want to begin to think about what could possibly happen to you," Dean complained.

You were surprised by his burst of concern for you, though it wasn't enough for you to cease pressing the matter. He took a large swig of his beer, seeming ready to empty the bottle. Sam had yet to open his, mostly just letting the cold drink switch from hand to hand as he contemplated the matter at hand.

"Y/N," Sam began hesitantly.

You interjected. "Come on, I'm not like you guys. It's not like I'm going to do more than kiss and tell on a first date. And you guys seemed comfortable with him in this place anyways. If he's a hunter, what's the worst that could happen?"

"Y/N," Sam warned.

Dean nearly jumped out of his seat. "What's the worst that could happen? Don't be a moron, youngin. Don't even get me started on kissing him, but more? I'd kill him. I'd kill you. Not happening. Not even a thought. Not what I was thinking, because it's not a thought! He could hurt you and I won't let that happen and neither will Sam. You don't think there's a reason you have never met him before, Y/N? Maybe because he would see this as an opportunity. Sure, he's befriended us for now and we help each other out, more or less. But don't think Sam and I have let our guards down for a second. This could be his chance to hurt us, to gain an upper hand."

His face and voice were so serious and intense, you were inclined to believe him. But regardless, was it not worth a shot? Sam sighed and pushed his long hair behind his ear, also somewhat stressed.

He said, "I understand Dean's concern and frankly, I support it too. This 'date' is a horrible idea. You don't know what you would be getting yourself into."

"That's because you haven't told me!" You shot back.

"Can't you just trust that we have your best interests at heart?" Sam pleaded. Dean groaned and after another bro-eye contact understanding, they sighed and looked at you earnestly. "Crowley... He's a demon. The king of Hell, specifically... And he recently went through this phase of experiencing human emotions, but please, don't let that influence your decision. No matter what, I'm sure whatever motives he possesses can't be good."

You felt like leaning back in the chair but would have fallen off. You settled for a dizzy effect instead, processing this strange information. Unfortunately for your brothers, this did not change your mind on going through with the date. After all, wouldn't it have been worse to not go through with it at all then be rude to a king and cancel?

-

You traded between anxious and excited leading up to the date. It was earlier than anything you were used to, so you began to prepare by afternoon. Dean made positive that you had all the weapons you could fit in your purse, barely leaving room for your wallet, phone, and lip balm. You felt proud of your outfit, even if it was a bit more risque than what you would normally wear on a night out. That was probably because you spent the most time with your brothers. Another thing that was reassuring was your ability to run in heels though you hoped you wouldn't need to, especially since your loose dress could end up Marilyn Monroe style in the wind.

There was a knock at your door. You nearly tripped on your way to answer it, your purse swinging behind you. To your disappointment, it was only your brothers. You sighed and allowed them in. They weren't in your bedroom often and it was probably the most personalized room in the whole place, filled with pictures, color, and clothes everywhere.

"Don't look so disappointed," Dean grumbled. They walked in, scanning for any sign of Crowley, as it was just minutes before five in the evening. Sam begin to list off the weapons they had given you to store earlier, confirming their location. You nodded along, your eyes focusing more on the hallway. "Any way we can talk you out of it now?"

You heard footsteps at the end of the hall and the new voice that belonged to Crowley call out. You bit back your smile for the sake of your brothers' sanity. "Nope. Sorry, boys. This is happening. Don't wait up for me!"

And with that, you left them there.

You met Crowley in the hallway, similar to the location from yesterday. Soon, the pair of you were strolling on the sidewalk outside, leading on the long walk to the streets, where you were informed a car would be waiting. The conversation started off light, with a compliment to your outfit and overall appearance.

You were not let down with the expectation of a confident king. He was ever so the gentlemen, opening doors, and being polite. It surprised you when he spoke with some hesitancy, showing the possibility of being nervous.

A half hour later, you and Crowley were sitting in some fancy restaurant. He sat across from you, facing the door. The waiter appeared anxious as he asked for your drink order. You didn't get the chance to speak. Crowley took charge, ordering some expensive wine you had never heard of. He gave an apologetic smile after the waiter left.

"I'm certain you will love the drink," he commented.

You were tired of the small talk. He was charming, handsome, and well, a king. But you needed more substance in the conversation to have a real date, and to find new ways to annoy your brothers.

"I suppose we'll see, though I typically prefer ordering for myself," you said. You glanced around nonchalantly, taking in the high ceiling and dark theme. You weren't avoiding eye contact by any means.

Crowley nodded. His dark eyes remained unwavering. You turned back to him as he spoke.

"I would be honored to make it up to you, doubled even if you dislike the wine, though I don't know if that's possible. Tell me what is on your mind," requested Crowley.

A smile teased its' way onto your face. "I think that can be arranged. Mostly, I want to know about you. After all, it's not often a stranger associated with my brothers asks me out."

"I take it they told you about me?" Crowley asked. His head leaned back slightly as his dark eyes continued to stare you down.

The wine appeared. The waiter poured you both glasses. Menu! You hadn't thought to look at the menu, so focused on creating conversation with the intriguing man before you. You requested an extra minute to ponder and took a sip. It was immaculate. The best you had ever tasted. You dreaded giving too much power to Crowley this soon, so you kept your expression neutral, with nothing but an eyebrow raise and a lick of your lips. 

"To answer your first question, some. As much as my brothers and I deal with, I never expected to cross paths with angels and now, the King of Hell. You have the element of surprise on your side, I'll give you that. And for the wine... I suppose I will continue to test it by allowing you to order the main course as well." 

Crowley smiled, impressed. He enjoyed his drink and picked up the menu, briefly scanning before glancing to you. It was impossible to know what he was thinking and that was all the more entrancing. He was well dressed, confident, and relaxed. Maybe it was the charming demon in him, but you felt no threat. 

Your motives were wish-washy on their own. You craved the simplicity of a real date and that was beautifully presented before you. You had the intention of making your brothers annoyed by going out with someone they weren't fond of, and you were certain this would work. But there was something else, something you couldn't quite place your finger on. 

It was the look in Crowley's eyes. He wasn't gazing at you like you were a prize won or some silly girl, like others in the supernatural world often did. You didn't even get the feeling he was doing this to pester your brothers. Sure, asking you out in front of them had to be enjoyable, but it was just the two of you now. And he was smiling, calm, and even a bit easygoing, despite showing nervous ticks. 

So what was it, you wondered. 

Crowley drew your attention back to him after ordering your meal. "I'm glad you like the wine. I can't imagine why they would hide someone as beautiful and kind as you from me for so long. It was a surprise to me as well." 

He paused. "After dinner, would you accompany me on a stroll? I believe the sun will be setting by then and I know a great view." 

Maybe this date was a good idea.

[mackinmacki]

You’re Not Allowed to Say That! (White Rose Week #5)

Fandom: RWBY

Pairing: White Rose

Word Count: 2194

Rating: T

Synopsis: Weiss attempts to teach Ruby that swearing isn't very ladylike, to mixed results.

Prompt: Curse

Links: FFN | AO3

———————————————————————————————

It started simply enough. Ruby and Yang were standing on opposite sides of the room, tossing a ball back and forth to each other. Zwei, who had been sent over through the mail for a visit, was happily pacing between them, trying to grab the ball should it be dropped. Weiss, as careful as she was, made sure to repeatedly mention that the two of them were going to break something. It was no surprise that neither of them heeded her warnings.

Now, at least nothing broke. That was the good part. Unfortunately, one of Yang's errant throws nearly broke Ruby. It was too high and too far. Ruby, with outstretched arms, jumped back and tried to catch it. However, it was just too high, and it hit off the wall. She followed suit, banging the back of her head hard against the drywall. Zwei, Yang, and Weiss all immediately started running towards her as the ball bounced uselessly away.

"Oww, fuck!" Ruby groaned, sprawled out on the ground and holding her head. While Zwei and Yang dropped down next to her, making sure she was alright, Weiss had stopped in her tracks. She stared open-mouthed at Ruby, playing back repeatedly what she had just said.

"Ruby!" Her shrill scream caught everyone's attention. All eyes were on her, including Blake, who had been idling around before that moment. "You can't say that!"

"Wha? Say what?" Ruby slowly sat up with help from Yang, rubbing the back of her head and looking at Weiss. It always seemed like she was doing something wrong, but she couldn't fathom what she had done this time.

"That word!" Weiss shouted back, telling her absolutely nothing about what exactly she had said that was so wrong. "It's not very ladylike to curse, you know." 'Ohh!' Well, now it all made sense. Ruby immediately started to giggle, which naturally made Weiss's temper rise. "And just what are you laughing at, Ruby?!"

"Are you trying to tell me not to say 'fuck', Weiss?" When Weiss visibly cringed, Ruby burst out into fits of laughter. "Ow ow, my head, ahahaha owowow! Stop it, Weiss! You're making me laugh too much!" 

"Me?! That's your fault for messing around in closed quarters! And maybe you deserve that for not listening to me." Putting her hands on her hips, Weiss looked like she had just sucked on a lemon. "Cursing is something uncouth women do, Ruby. It's for low class people. As our leader, I expect better from you."

"Aww Weiss, there's nothing wrong with swearing." Yang stood up once she made sure Ruby was okay, ambling over to sling an arm around Weiss's shoulder. "Sometimes saying something's good just isn't gonna cut it. You gotta say that it's bitchin', ya know?"

"I do not know," Weiss retorted, sliding out from under Yang's arm and stepping back, frowning deeply. "You're a bad influence on Ruby, you know that? I bet you swear like a sailor in front of her, and she ends up emulating you. You need to improve your vocabulary, Yang. Blake, back me up here."

"What?" Blake, realizing that she was being dragged into the conversation, tried to slip unnoticed back into bed. "Don't bring me into this conversation. I don't care."

"Like hell you don't!" With surprising speed, Weiss caught Blake before she could sneak under the covers, grabbing her arm and forcibly dragging her towards the sisters. "You're of sound mind, Blake. Wouldn't you agree that swearing is for those who have weak vocabularies?"

"Well, I don't personally swear." She could feel herself sweating, thinking about the copious amounts of swearing in some of the more risque literature that she read. If only Weiss knew there were worse things Ruby could be saying than swear words, like what the main character of the most recent book she was reading was doing to their love interest in the back of a train car. She had a feeling someone as stuck up as Weiss would never recover. "But I'm not going to police other people's dialogue."

"Then you are an enabler." Weiss let go of Blake's arm, shaking her head disgustedly. "I'm disappointed in all of you for this behavior. Especially you." She pointed at Yang, who looked visibly shocked.

"Me?! I didn't even swear! That was all Ruby!"

"Wow, way to throw me under the bus, sis..."

"Yes, but I know that you were the one who taught her to curse like that." Glaring at Yang, Weiss grabbed Ruby's arm and took her towards the door. "If you'll excuse us, I have some lessons to teach Ruby about the art of conversation."

"Aww man! Yaaang, help me!" Ruby squirmed in Weiss's grasp, but didn't have the full heart to yank herself away. "At least take Yang instead! She's the bad influence!" When it came to throwing sisters under the bus, what was good for the goose was good for the gander. Whatever the fuck a 'gander' was.

"Yes, but Yang is irredeemable. I can still save you." There was no more room for argument. Weiss pulled Ruby out of the bedroom and slammed the door, Ruby's cries for mercy fading the further away they got.

"Well then," Yang muttered, scratching at her scalp. "I feel like I should be offended by that, but at least I don't have to deal with a Weiss lecture. Maybe being irredeemable has its perks."

"That's one way of looking at it." 

——————————————————————————————— "Alright Ruby, now let's say you're in a situation where you get hurt." Weiss had taken Ruby up to the top floor balcony, where she was attempting to teach her partner proper etiquette. Considering that Ruby had cursed while getting hurt, that seemed like a good place to start. "Instead of saying the f-word like you did, why not try just saying 'Ow'?"

"Aww, but Weiss, I can't help it! If I hurt myself like that, it just comes out, you know?" Ruby really didn't see what the big deal was. Who cared if she said 'fuck' a time or two? She hadn't expected Weiss to be so anal about it. Hehehe, anal... Probably shouldn't say that out loud either.

"That's because you're not trying!" Weiss huffed in frustration, wondering for a moment if Ruby was also a lost cause. No, she didn't believe that. Unlike her uncouth older sister, Ruby was a much nicer, better-spoken girl. There had to be a way to show her the error of her ways, also known as the error of Yang's ways. "Once you stop using curse words, then it will become more instinctual for you."

"I suppose..." Ruby sighed, shaking her head slightly. Why was this such a big deal to Weiss? Her swearing wasn't affecting anyone. Sure, people were sometimes surprised at the mouth someone as cute and innocent as she looked, but that's what happened when you grow up around people like Yang and Qrow. Besides, they were just words. What was the problem, really? "Don't you ever feel like swearing, Weiss?"

"Of course not! How dare you even insinuate such a thing!" The nerve of Ruby to think she would let such rough words leave her lips. She had been raised better than that. "A proper woman doesn't devolve to swearing when things aren't going her way. That's a lesson you'll need to learn, Ruby."

"That's a lame lesson," Ruby muttered, though she had to quickly take it back when she saw the look on Weiss's face. "Uh, I mean, it's not a lame lesson?" That did not change her expression at all. "C'mon Weiss, this is silly! I'm not as prim and proper as you, okay? Sometimes I swear, and that's okay! Everybody does it!"

"Don't be so broad, Ruby. Not everyone swears. I don't." Ruby was being difficult, but that was normal for her. She had been difficult to deal with since the day they met. That didn't mean it was time to give up, though. Weiss was going to get through to her, no matter how long it took. Well, eventually she would give up, but now wasn't that time.

She spent the next twenty minutes trying to convince Ruby that there were better uses of her vocabulary. Between tips and different words, she threw all of her arsenal at the team leader. Maybe it stuck, but at the moment, it seemed she had still left Ruby unconvinced. At that point, she was tired, and she decided that they would need to reconvene another time.

"Alright, let's go back to the dorm," she sighed, wondering if she had gotten through at all to Ruby. Looking in her eyes, she couldn't tell. Maybe this all was for naught, and Ruby was as far gone as her sister. She would still try, though, at least for awhile longer. There were more connections between herself and her partner than there was with her and Yang, anyway.

"Yay!" Ruby hopped up happily -- a bit too happily. Shaking her head, Weiss got up after her, and the two of them headed off of the balcony. However, being distracted by the entire situation made Weiss less cautious than she usually was. Without her eyes fully focused on what was in front of her, she accidentally rammed her elbow into the side of the door, sending a sharp pain right up her funny bone.

"Ow! Son of a bitch!" She cried out and grabbed her elbow, hissing in pain. Barely avoiding hitting Ruby, she hopped around in pain, biting hard on her lip. When she was finally able to calm down and let her pained arm drop down, she noticed that Ruby was staring at her, a huge grin on her face. "What? What's so funny, Ruby?"

"You swore, Weiss." Ruby could barely contain her laughter at that point, her entire body shaking from the effort.

"What?" Weiss blinked, thinking back on what she had just said. When she realized what had come from her lips, her entire face visibly paled. That was saying something, considering how pale she already was. At that point, Ruby couldn't hold back any longer. She collapsed to the ground, holding her stomach as she laughed boisterously. "Stop laughing, Ruby! Stop it this instance!"

"Weiss said a bad word! Weiss said a bad word!" Ruby was howling with laughter, barely able to get any words out. By that point, Weiss was blushing furiously, trying to glare Ruby into silence. It wasn't working. "Wait 'til I tell Yang!"

"You will do no such thing!" Seeing Ruby trying to crawl her way down the hall, Weiss was forced to toss her dignity to the side as she dived for her partner. Ruby let out a cry of surprise as Weiss landed on her, pinning her down to the ground. "Don't you dare tell anyone about this! Especially not Yang!"

"Weiss! Get off me!" Of course, Ruby was stronger than Weiss, which made it easy to buck her off. While she wasn't physically strong, Weiss made up for it in dogged tenacity. She held on for dear life, refusing to let Ruby escape with her semblance and tell the world that she swore. That was going to go to the grave with them, even if they both had to die right then and there.

"Not until you promise not to tell anyone!" By that point, Ruby was basically dragging Weiss across the floor. They were both getting their outfits dirty, but there was more at stake than needing to throw them in the wash. 

"Promise not to tell anyone what?" Both of them stopped what they were doing, looking up to find Nora and Pyrrha standing above them. Nora had a big grin on her face, already sensing there was some gossip in the air that she was excited to hear about. As for Pyrrha, she looked somewhat awkward at the position she had found the two of them in, but a bit curious as to what was going on.

"Nothing!" Weiss covered Ruby's mouth before she could blurt anything out that didn't need to be said. "Nothing at all!" Now Nora was the one with an increasing grin, and Weiss didn't like that look. She had been around Ruby, Yang, and Nora enough now to know that whenever any of them were grinning like that, bad things were to follow.

"Ohhh boy, I can't wait to tell Yang that you're trying to get busy with her sister right in the hallway!" With that, she started running down the hall, leaving Ruby and Weiss in her dust. The two of them stared at each other, realizing that this was much different than either of them had anticipated happening. They both began to blush as they rolled off of each other, jumping to their feet and running after Nora.

"Nora, that wasn't what you thought it was!" "Get back here, Nora!" Ruby activated her semblance, disappearing from view. From her end of the hall, Pyrrha could only hear a loud scream that sounded distinctly like Nora. With a sigh, she shook her head and started to walk in that direction.

"Maybe leaving Mistral was a bad idea."

[theangriestpea]

Road Bumps | Sweet Pea

Summary: After finding out that his girlfriend is pregnant, Sweet Pea decides to take her away from the dangers of Riverdale for a little while. Missing scene to where Sweet Pea was during the end of season 3 and beginning of season 4 <ao3> 

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Reader 

Rating: Teen+

Word Count: 2.7k+

Warnings: Teen pregnancy 

A/N: This was requested by the amazing @sweetsfuckingpea​! I hope you enjoy it, mom! When trying to think of motivation for Sweet Pea to leave Riverdale, pregnancy was the only thing I could come up with??? Probably because I currently have baby fever. x.x And I mean....who wouldn’t want babies that looked like Jordan Connor? 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You asked for the millionth time as you sat across from Sweet Pea at a small dinner in a rural part of Pennsylvania. “With all that’s going on in Riverdale-”

“That’s exactly why we needed to leave.” He said seriously. “There’s too much drama there right now. We need to get away for awhile. Especially with the condition you’re in. I’m not risking your lives by staying in a town infested with mysterious seizures and drugged up rival gangsters.”

You let out a sigh, picking at your basket of fries. You hadn’t had much appetite the past couple of weeks. “My condition is exactly why we shouldn’t be travelling the countryside right now. We should be saving money! I told you I could have just taken out a loan and gotten it taken care of…”

Sweet Pea reached out, putting a steady hand on top of your shaking one. “Y/N, I know this is hard but we agreed not to do that. If you’ve changed your mind then I’ll support you, but I don’t want you to do it unless you’re absolutely sure.”

You withdrew your hand from his and hid it on your lap. “I don’t know what I want. It all just happened so fast. I haven’t had time to process anything.”

He sighed, wishing you would stop pulling away from him constantly. He went back to eating his food slowly. “Coming out here will give you time to think about it. Plus you told me countless times how you always wanted to road trip coast to coast. This might be your last chance for a while.”

A small smile formed on your lips, “you’re right, thank you, babe.” You leaned in for a quick kiss before going back to eating.

A week prior Sweet Pea had insisted that the two of you go on a road trip. Even though it was towards the end of Junior year, he said it wouldn’t matter since most of the time neither of you went to school anyway. You could always retake it the following year which didn’t seem so bad right now.

After many nights of not-so-careful screwing, you had wound up pregnant with only one possibility for the father. Sweet Pea was taking it amazingly well. You had expected him to punch a wall or make you leave or demand you get an abortion, but he did none of those things. Instead he sat in stunned silence for what felt like hours.

Eventually, when he did speak, he asked what you wanted to do. You didn’t know as you were still wrapping your head around the whole thing. You had suffered from a bad seizure months before and there was still no real explanation as to what caused it. Plus with increasing tensions mounting between the serpents and the gargoyles, Sweet Pea felt that Riverdale was no longer a safe place for you. Either of you. He wanted nothing more to protect you until you came to a decision.

You kept in contact with your friends back home as little as possible. It was too soon to tell them what was going on. Rumors flew by so quickly in the small town that you didn’t want to be known as the highschooler that got knocked up by a serpent. There were worse things to be said about you, sure, but it was still a sensitive subject. You weren’t even showing yet but who knew how long that would last.

“How does this spot look, princess?” Sweet Pea asked as he walked around a clearing in the small wooded area you had parked near. You had been camping out most nights, enjoying the sounds of nature with nothing to keep you warm but your boyfriend and your shared sleeping bag. It was nice, peaceful, and much less stressful than home.

You looked around, “are you sure there’s no bears around here? You know Archie got attacked by one once. He almost died.”

Sweet Pea rolled his eyes, “I’ve got my 12 gauge if there is one, come on, is this the place for tonight or what?”

Your eyes met his and you smiled lightly, “Sure. The ground is even at least and there’s that stream nearby.”

He came up to you and pulled you into a tight embrace, his head resting on top of yours. “Ready to get started or do you need to rest?”

You pushed him away gently, rolling your eyes. “I’m pregnant, Sweets, not disabled. Let’s go ahead and get started.”

That night, after everything was set, Sweet Pea had scoped out a local bar to go to. Naturally  he had his leather serpent jacket on while you went with something a bit more classic. Skinny jeans and a low cut t-shirt. Nothing too risque as you didn’t pack anything too revealing to wear. It’s not like you had planned on going bar hopping any time soon since you couldn’t drink.

But currently you were in a food desert and really the only place to grab a bite was the bar about twenty minutes away from your campsite. It was remote enough that neither of you thought anyone would mess with your tent, deciding to keep a majority of your possessions locked in the saddle bags of his motorcycle.

You arrived at the bar, noticing the plethora of bikes parked out front. Naturally your anxiety started to rise. If they saw Sweet Pea as some kind of rival then things could get ugly. “Maybe you should take your jacket off.” You murmured to him, already seeing a few passing by bikers give him a tentative look over.

“A serpent never sheds his skin.” Sweet Pea said faithfully, “It’ll be fine, baby girl. No one is going to mess with us.” He got off of his bike and put an arm around you, leading you inside the small bar. “Just worry about whether or not the food here is any good.” He joked.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him while you walked. He led you to a back corner and placed you at a booth there. “Stay here, I’m going to get some menus, okay? Stop looking at me like that, nothing is going to happen.” He said, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze in an attempt to reassure you before he left to go to the bar.

He disappeared behind a sea of bodies, while the bar wasn’t super crowded, the dim lighting made it hard to see far away. You huffed and pulled out your phone, trying to quell your anxiety by mindlessly scrolling through social media. He had wanted to hustle some pool as well to get you both some extra cash.

Someone sat down next to you, “Back already?” You asked, eyes not looking up from the screen.

“No, sweet thing, I’m just arriving.” A voice said smoothly. Your head shot up to see a somewhat thin biker sitting next to you. You immediately moved as far away from his as possible, which wasn’t much in the small booth.

“My boyfriend is coming back, you should leave.” You said, trying to keep your voice from shaking.

“That kid wearing the snake? No, you look like you could use a real man.” He said, breath reeking of cheap beer and tooth decay. It nearly made you gag.

“I’m seventeen.” You replied, hoping the fact that you were underage would get him to go away. Unfortunately it only seemed to make him more interested.

He smirked, “Good, I like ‘em young.”

A scared look crossed your face, your heart sinking deep down into your chest until you saw a hand with a tattooed thumb grab the intruder by the shoulder. “I don’t believe the teenager is interested in your pathetic ass.” Sweet Pea seethed, ripping the man out from behind the table. He stumbled forward, catching himself before straightening up.

“Southside Serpent, huh? More like Southside Street Rat.” The man said, looking up at Sweet Pea. His inhibition from the alcohol made the much taller boy’s large frame unfrightening.

Sweet Pea quickly grabbed the man by the collar of his old t-shirt, yanking him up onto his toes. “Want to say that again?” He asked, voice low and even but nevertheless filled the rage. “Or do you want to hit on my girl some more?”

“Fuck off man, this is my territory. Not yours.” He said, eyeing the guys around him.

Sweet Pea looked at the men coming towards him, “You guys really want to defend a pedophile? Be my guest, I’ll take you all on.”

“Sweet Pea…” You mumbled, trying to get him to calm down and not make the situation worse. Especially since he was alone in a sea of bikers.

He glanced at you and you could tell he couldn’t really see you through his anger. When he saw red it was literally all he saw.

“Put him down, kid.” A much older, bearded man said as he parted the crowd. The man looked down at you, “was he bothering you, miss?”

“Y-yes.” You stammered, terrified of what may happen. Your hand instinctively went to your stomach and it did not go unnoticed by the newcomer.

“And you’re a minor?” He probed and you could only nod your head in response, your voice no longer worker. The man turned to Sweet Pea, “then I’ll deal with him. We don’t take kindly to our guys trying to mess around with teenagers.”

Sweet Pea stared at the old biker, contemplating whether or not he should comply. He let out a large breath out of his nose as he set the offender down. Multiple guys grabbed him before he could make a break for it. They pulled him away and back through a back door.

“Sorry about him, son. I have suspected his...tendencies for a while now but had no proof. Sit down, you and your bird’s food is on the house.” He patted Sweet Pea’s shoulder before signalling for the crowd to disperse.

You felt like you were going to faint as Sweet Pea sat down next to you. “You are one lucky son of a bitch,” You croaked to him as you tried to regulate your breathing.

Sweet Pea was still very much upset, now unable to take his feelings out on anyone. “You okay?” He said, his voice not matching the words. They sounded much too rough.

You put a gentle hand on his bicep, trailing it downward in an attempt to soothe him. “I’m fine, you got here right in time. My hero.” The last part was a joke in an attempt to make him smile. It didn’t work until you gave him a light peck on the cheek. “I’ll have to make it up to you tonight.” You whispered into his ear, knowing the thought of a reward later would make him cool down.

His cracked smile grew and he put an arm around your shoulders. “Oh yeah? You owe me big time.” He teased, hand dipping down to brush against your side. “I got us free food.”

“Pretty sure, I got us free food. But okay, you win.” You said with a light giggle, kissing him once more.

“I love you.” He said, seeming out of nowhere. You looked up to see his eyes burning with emotion that you didn’t quite recognize. “I never loved anyone the way I love you.”

A blush spread hot across your face. “Not even Josie?” The question came out in a mumble. You had always been a bit insecure when it came to his feelings for her. After all, he was still getting over her when you two decided to start hooking up. It had been difficult at first because he was obviously still in pain over the rejection, but eventually he moved on when you showed him that you were more than happy to be his full-time girl.

Sweet Pea pressed a light kiss to your forehead, “not even Josie.” He added softly, knowing how much of a sore spot it was for you. “That was just a dumb crush. You’re...different. You always have been but I just ignored it, not thinking you felt that way.”

You buried your head into his shoulder, clearly embarrassed. “You’re an idiot. I’ve loved you since Freshman year.”

“What? Really?” He asked, clearly surprised as he tried to pull you away from him but you had latched onto him much too tightly. He wanted nothing more than to look into your eyes and see that what you were saying was the truth.

“Oh yeah, I fell pretty hard after you beat up the Ghoulies that were trying to jump me.” You said softly into his jacket, enjoy the smell of him and the leather mixing.

Sweet Pea couldn’t help but chuckle lightly. There was no way you could have taken on all five Ghoulies that had cornered you but you looked like you were bound to try with a heavy textbook in your hand as a makeshift weapon. “You were so cute. Looking like a bunny trying to fight off some strung out wolves.”

“Idiot.” Was all you could say, trying to mask how mortified you felt knowing that you didn’t look intimating in the slightest. “You came in swinging like a giraffe out of hell. Ready to kick ass and take names for seconds.”

He rested his head on top of yours, his grip on you tightening as his body trembled with silent laughter. “Yeah, had to defend that cute little bun. She was way too innocent to let her get devoured by some mangy mutts.”

“So you wanted to devour me instead?” You asked jokingly and he only laughed more.

“You got me.” He murmured softly into your hair and you swear you had never felt more at peace in your entire life then you did in that very moment.

Over the course of the next few months, Sweet Pea took you all the way to the west coast. You stopped at kitschy little tourist traps and adorable mom and pop places. He hustled pool, darts, really any bar game he was good at just to get you some spending money. Eventually you started to forget about Riverdale entirely. In fact, it had been weeks since the town even crossed your mind.

Until you got a phone call from Toni. You had just arrived in the outskirts of western Indiana when you decided to answer. It was the fifth time she had called you that day, and you knew that it had to have been important. Sweet Pea’s phone was turned off for this very reason, he didn’t want anyone bothering him.

What she had to say left you feeling cold. Jughead Jones was dead and they could just make it to his funeral if they started driving tonight. Sweet Pea said nothing. He was eerily quiet as he packed up everything and hopped back onto his bike with you behind him. And he drove, only stopping when he absolutely needed to sleep. Distantly you wondered what everyone would say about your protruding stomach. You were only a month shy of being full term. That was why you both had started heading back. And now everyone would know and there would be no escape. Not again. You weren’t ready but you had to be. There was no other option.

After a rough night in a motel, Sweet Pea finally noticed your distress. His mind had been preoccupied on the serpents for obvious reasons. “Hey, Y/N, come here.” He whispered and you moved closer to him. He enveloped you in his arms and breathed you in, almost as if it would be the last time you’d get to be alone together. “Everything is going to be alright. We’ll get through his just like we’ve gotten through everything else that has been thrown at us. Remember when we thought there was a bear and it was really just a stray cat going through our garbage? This is just like that. It’s just a cat. Not a terrifying bear, okay?”

You let out a low sight, “yeah...okay.”

“Do you trust me?” He asked, his voice so serious that it worried you.

“Of course.” You muttered back, not understanding what he was getting at.

He smiled softly, “Then trust me to get us through this.” He kissed you once more before finally getting up to get ready for the last leg of the drive. You’d be in Riverdale by late afternoon and your road trip would unfortunately be over.

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[yanderedbh-moved]

The Yanderes + Smut Scenarios

Fun with the DBH character + fun tropes! Requests are open, though, if you want me to expand on, or write more from any of these ideas. Obviously NSFW below the cut so read at your own digression.

Connor

Surprisingly gentle when he is In the Mood. No more aggressive, just a bit more physically close is all. Rubbing his body up against yours, loving touches, a kiss on the cheek. The sort of things most people would brush off, but from Connor, you know he must want something here.

The more an more headed he becomes, the more possessive, like more than either of you would’ve expected. It’s hard for him not to get extra handsy here and feel an exquisite sense of power holding you in his bed.

But when he isn’t buried in the mood, Connor can’t help but feel a little nervous here. Sex isn’t exactly part of his programmed directions, so he worries he might mess up here. Just urge him forward and say he’s doing so well, and this is an issue easily forgotten.

Markus

Sensory deprivation, all the way. He wants to leave you as overstimulated and under his control as possible. Usually, he’ll just use a blindfold on you, and it’ll work just fine for him.

Even though he loves to punish you for being naughty, or for distracting him from his work, physical pain isn’t really a line he crosses all that often. Usually, his preferred method to get you to feel sorry is orgasm denial, or as mentioned before, pain overstimulation. He doesn’t necessarily want to see you in pain, you’re begging is more than enough for him. 

Oh no, someone saw/heard the two of you fucking? What a shame... Seriously though, he’s absolutely the one to get extra loud if he thinks others are close by.

Kara

Not really something she likes to admit to, but Kara loves to push you down during sex. Like not really as far as stepping on you, but forcing you into the mattress or the pillows is probably about the furthest amount of pain she’s willing to give during sex.

Kara seems like the kind of girl who would really surprise her partner with how much stamina she had during sex. You already knew how strong she was outside the bedroom, but here, you never imagined Kara had such vigor.

Another place Kara likes to get lewd would definitely be the tub. Usually, here she would take an innocent activity like washing your hair or cleaning you up and turn it into something much more intimate and risque.

Hank

Lowkey might have one of the dirtiest minds out of everyone. It’s probably because he’s been around the longest, and is easily the most experienced, but seriously don’t think he won’t get incredibly graphic just because he’s older.

While personally, Hank would only ever want to get really dirty if it were just the two of you, that just makes the moments of intimacy all the raunchier. If he knows he can trust you, Hank will growl the most shameless, depraved things you’ve ever heard as he slips a leg between your thighs.

Hank may like to be the controlled dom in the bedroom, he’s also the type of partner to get extra sloppy the closer he gets to his orgasm. He really loves to curl his first in your hair as he finds himself overwhelmed by his own pleasure.

Luther

Even though he’s pretty quiet during sex, all things considered, he’s definitely the kind of guy who would get extra loud the closer he gets to come. Usually in the form of low grunts and growls.

Literally, Luther is such a teddybear! He is very understanding of anything you would feel outright uncomfortable with, and if there was anything you wanted to try with him, but didn’t understand, Luther would very carefully and without judgment guide you through the motions.

When he is really in the mood to be the more dominant partner, Luther actually likes to keep the atmosphere between the two of you somewhat playful. He’s far more into teasing than he is into pain.

North

If you keep trying to tease her and play with her in public, she will absolutely respond by shoving you up against the wall and making out with you in that very spot. If anyone sees this and thinks she’s acting desperate? That sounds like their problem...

Needs a lot of reassurance that you love her, that she’s doing well, and all that jazz. But make no mistake, she will absolutely return the favor and deliver you the same kindness.

Once she does find her stride though, she might actually warm-up and be pretty team Harsh Dom TM. (Ma’am? Please raw me?)

Simon

Unpredictable to a fault. You may think you know him well, but it’s not exactly his style to just deliver what’s expected of him. More likely, he likes to leave you as flustered and confused as possible until you’re basically weeping for him to give you release.

He would absolutely wreck you if you allowed him to. As in, Simon would love to just tease you and wind you up for hours without giving you a break, and until your unable to do anything but follow his command.

While you might expect someone like him to lean more on the side of subbing or something like that, you might actually be surprised at how naturally he takes to the role of a dom. Something about the stress of the leaders of Jericho breathing down his neck all the time leaves the man with a need to feel in control every now and then.

Josh

Josh always does his best to be gentle around you, and to keep your safety and comfort of utmost importance, the longer this guy goes without a good lay, he harder it gets for him to hold back. And he can’t help but get a little feral if he’s really been missing out on his “quality time” with you.

As a pretty quiet guy during sex, he has a major soft spot for partners who make him ask for what he wants during sex. He’s certainly not above begging every now and then.

Might lowkey brag to the other members of Jericho about this when he’s done. It’s not because he wants you to be embarrassed here or anything, it’s just that he really enjoyed himself, and he wants others to know how great you are!

Kamski

He’s been known to leave bruises on your hips from grabbing them too harshly as he forces you to grind up against his leg.

An absolute bastard. One of Elijah's biggest turn-ons includes controlled orgasms and denial. It’s hard to say whether he enjoys the control or the begging more, but the bottom line is, if you aren’t begging him shamelessly by the end of the night, you won’t be getting any kind of gratification from him.

He’s always been very talented with his hands/his fingers, and this absolutely extends to sex as well. It’s something both you and him are well aware of, so much so that just the mere sight of you in a dress or a skirt is enough to get him feeling more than a little tempted.

Chloe

To your surprise, Chloe is actually rather shy during sex for someone so usually extraverted and social. And to be honest, during your first couple of times, she might come off as a bit of a pillow princess...

Chloe is far from loud when it comes to sex, however, if you’re on top, Chloe loves to praise, and if you can really get her going, it’s hard for her to keep calm or lower her volume.

Likely the type of partner who’s like, “This is so dirty, what would others think if they saw us like this... Keep going!”

Gavin

If he has dirty dreams about you in his sleep, Gavin will likely unconsciously start grinding up against you in the middle of the night, muttering suggestive nothings to himself in his own little dreamland.

 Loves to give you some additional suggestive dirty talk when the two of you are in public, or even better, out with other people. He won’t be loud enough for other people to hear, but just enough to get you a little tensed up.

What really gets him excited, though is whenever you let him break out the gun during sex. He’s pretty into power play and holding the gun to your chin, or naked chest gives everything an effective dose of thrill and excitement.

Zlatko

The man loves to spend so much time covering your neck and shoulders in love bites. It might hurt, but it’s kind of a compliment from him, it’s his way of providing you with a more fitting, more permanent collar.

His personal favorite way to torment you when he can tell you’re really close to reaching your end is with painfully slow thrusts. There’s very little in life which he finds more pleasurable than the way he feels your body writhing below his own.

The other biggest turn on for him would likely be fear. The reasons here being a mix of both the feelings of adrenaline and control it gives him. Whether you’re just a little afraid or completely fucking terrified, it’s all the same to him, really.

Ralph

Mr. No experience. He’s also far from an intuitive lover, and unfortunately, it’s not unheard of for him to accidentally hurt you during sex. Because of this, it’s vital for both of you to very clearly guide him through things.

Just hearing the way your own pleasure causes your voice to tremble and crack is enough to seriously turn him on. But to listen to this between his legs is undoubtedly a very lovely plus...

Being as physically close to you as possible during sex is a must for him. Ralph wants to hold you if he can, and if he can’t, then he will struggle to do so. Usually, it’s better to just lean into his touch here, so he’s not too distracted and doesn’t get too desperate.

(Additionally, this guy probably makes the weirdest noises during sex. Like boy might straight up start hissing or some shit, and you just gotta roll with it.)

Daniel

Genuinely thinks it’s a compliment to show you how hard he is, or how much you’re turning him on, even during the most indecent of times.

Daniel is far more comfortable as a sub than any other position. Even during sex Daniel is gravely worried over the idea of disappointing you, and in this position, it’s the easiest for him not to worry about that.

Somehow the best at dirty talk? Like he will growl the nastiest shit you’ve ever heard during sex, and it’s the best.

Nines

Love to catch you off guard. Not necessarily with anything too startling, but with some gentle caresses and contact which leaves you flustered and taken by the advance. Furthermore, Nines isn’t the type to just jump right into sex without any kind of foreplay. He’s really more of a “slow burn” kind of guy.

One of the quietest during sex. You really won’t hear much out of his mouth, especially if it’s occupied.

Essential to know Nines possesses an excellent memory. He’s the one to remember all the positions which leave you the most desperate and needy, and he absolutely will use that against you.

[dragonstoravens]

Babylon Vol. 1: Bad Behavior, A Dancer in her Own Right

[ID: a blue patterned banner with text reading “BABYLON.” End ID.]

(Two chapters today, but this one’s a bit of a shorter update anyway. Believe it or not, we’re getting towards the end of volume 1 now!! It’ll be all posted by the end of December, and then in the new year at some point we’ll start posting 2. We’re also looking into Wattpad, and maybe even making an audiobook, so keep an eye out for those updates. Enjoy the chapters!)

Taglist (ask to be added or removed!): @charlottedotexe @glitterandstarshine @rainbowcoloreddays @the-starlight-chills @erased-in-stone

General: @elywritesbydarkness @residentofthedisc @humour-and-hyperfocus @skyfirewrites @viawrites-andacts

17. Bad Behavior

    A tap on her shoulder alerted Azure to someone just behind her. She turned, smile plastered to her face. The woman was about her age, grinning conspiratorially. That was never good, in her book. Grinning usually meant there was a plan for the conversation, and conspiratorially meant she’d have to actually participate. She washed away her distaste for the idea with some champagne before speaking.

    “Hello, I don’t believe we’ve met.”

    “Oh no, we haven’t. Samantha Whitewater, my family owns the Whitewater mining firm.” The introduction was followed by a small bow, which Azure returned. A colony family, then. Whitewater continued. “I just wanted to congratulate you.”

    Congratulate her? She hadn’t done anything of note to these people. She never made deals and she talked about herself as little as possible, trying to create a black box of a history no one would question. There was nothing to congratulate, and even less for a stranger to bring up out of nowhere. She touched the comm.

    Hey Hotshot, you remember anyone from the Whitewater family?

    I think I got a proposal from them once, he responded. More business than pleasure, though I think they wanted a marriage too. At least they didn’t keep pushing when I denied both.

    That was all she needed. At least Samantha and her family had manners. Her smile relaxed to something more genuine. She didn’t know what she was about to be congratulated for, but at least it wouldn’t be underhanded. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, things have been awful slow for me lately.” 

    “Oh, nothing like that. I’m just congratulating you on making such a good match. No one else here could say the same, though of course the Jericho name is something of a hot-ticket item to many of us. My own family included, I have to admit.” She laughed like it was some kind of joke between friends, and Azure’s blood pressure rose. Trinity, seeming to just take notice of the conversation as Azzy’s burgeoning anger began to make itself known through their mental link, began to turn, a crease in his brow the only sign of confusion showing through the ice-sculpture poise he wore around these events like armor.

    She blinked to cover for the twitch in her eye, tucking her hands behind her back to cover the sparking. She ignored the vague warning of Azzy, no, that buzzed in the back of her head from Trinity, bulldozing on. “I wasn’t aware he was on sale in the first place.” Her words came out clipped, stilted, and poisonously sweet. Speaking of her friend as though he was an item made her stomach churn, even in retaliation. These events often weren’t terrible until something like this came up, the word choice surrounding people objectifying and economic in the worst manner. But never once had someone brazenly spoken about Trinity to her face before, like it was normal or expected. That was her friend Whitewater was talking about, the one who’d taught her about shrimp forks and helped her reach high shelves in her lab and made poorly edited images of frogs telling bad jokes for her when she was sad. She seethed. “I suppose that would explain why you caught me off guard then.”

    The woman blinked. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what it’s like where you come from--” the incredibly rude phrasing was somehow undercut by the fact that she still didn’t seem to think she was insulting anyone at all-- “but clearly you’re not used to this kind of society. We’re all a commodity here. The best he or anyone should hope for is to find someone equally as useful to him as he is to them, and maybe someone he can get along with-- though with someone as Icy as Jericho I never held out too much hope for that. That could have been me, but I guess it’s you.”

    Azure opened her mouth to speak, but Trinity’s hand on her back stopped her just long enough for her to hear him out. Azure. She’s right. Drop it.

     Azure shot back a response with a dangerous growl entering her mental voice, indignant and angry and protective. I don’t recall askin’ how anyone else here felt about it but me, so you drop it. She cleared her throat, her tone once more painted over with a thin veneer of polite but apparent disdain. “It is me, thank you very much Miss Whitewater. I wish you the very best of luck in finding someone merely useful to you.” If it wasn’t going to get her kicked out, she’d have spat at the woman’s feet like she used to when people bullied Crim in elementary school. Instead, she grinned conspiratorially with entirely too many of her teeth. “Because as we both know, that’s simply the most one can hope for in this wonderful little bubble.”

    “Like you’ve done any better.” Whitewater finally seemed perturbed, angry that something was disrupting her sterile worldview. Her lip curled slightly. “That man touches you like he’d rather be doing anything else. Two inches away from anything that could be considered a little risque, even while dancing? At least someone like me would’ve known what I was getting into, with someone like him.” 

    Trinity saw Azzy draw in a breath, and knew whatever she was about to say would be even worse. So before it could leave her mouth. Trinity had turned fully to face the two of them, and in an instant his arm was wrapped firmly around her waist. His hand rested squarely on her hip-- right on the strip of skin her dress’ cutout bodice left exposed to the air. His fingers dug into her flesh just slightly. Not hard enough to even leave prints on the skin, but just enough to send a message. Azzy relaxed in posture only, looking for all the world like a guard dog that had just been told to sit as she looked up at him sidelong. “I’m sorry, Miss Whitewater, but my date and I have business elsewhere. Will this be all?”

    “Of course. Enjoy your evening, Jericho. Garza.” Whitewater’s voice was stilted. Trinity turned Azzy around and used his arm around her to begin to shepard her away-- he wasn’t sure she was prepared to actually leave this alone, left to her own devices. They made it about ten feet before Azure looked back over her shoulder, sliding her arm around his waist as well and winking back at Whitewater, Garza’s supposed devious intention with Trinity on display. Internally, there was a small blip of take that, asshole, and then a self satisfied calm. Trinity sighed. He hated to play into whatever that was, but unfortunately a deserted hallway was likely the only place he was going to be able to talk to Azzy alone. He tugged her away into a winding passage off to the side of the main ballroom, gritting his teeth as he imagined the scandalized stare that Whitewater woman was probably still sending after them. He couldn’t deny that it was… amusing, to an extent. But he liked to avoid attention he wasn’t looking for at this kind of thing, and the last thing he needed was a jilted business-lover spreading around the fact that he’d pulled his date into a secret corner in the middle of an event. What was done was done, though, and he had to admit he hoped Whitewater felt sufficiently humiliated by the end of all that. Whatever it was.

    Finally satisfied they were alone, he let go of Azzy-- careful not to let his hands linger a second longer than they had to-- and sighed, leaning against the wall with a slightly bemused smile. “What was that about? And why did it seem to have everything and nothing to do with me?”

    Azure blew a stray curl from her face, absently rubbing her hip where he’d touched her with her opposite arm. The consequences of her actions appeared to be finally setting in, and her face was apologetic in that same way it was when she realized she’d started eating in massive bites at dinner instead of polite and small ones yet again. She looked almost bashful as she looked up at him. “Sorry Hotshot, I just...I don’t know, she started talkin’ about you like you were a thing instead of a person. I’m used to ‘em talkin’ about how hot you are, and that’s fine because it’s true at least, but no one’s ever said anythin’ like that about you right to my face before, it pissed me off.” She finally let her own hip go, shaking her hands to rid them of sparks and avoiding his eyes to avoid letting it be known just how honest she was about to be. “It’s rude, and it’s dehumanizin’, and I just believe real strongly that you deserve better than that.”

    Trinity almost denied it, wanting to cite times he certainly had not deserved better, but the last thing he wanted was to open up that can of worms. The wound of his profiteering off that war-torn planet was still too fresh, his apology still somewhat inadequate. Instead, he just shook his head. “I know what you think, but whether that’s truly how I am or not, it’s how I’ve presented myself for years to these people. Besides, she practically called you a bumpkin to your face too, and I’m not sure you even noticed.” He felt something soften slightly inside him as he looked at his friend. She’d been defending him. God strike him down if he knew why. God would probably strike him down regardless.

    She waved a hand, looking unaffected. “Who gives a shit about me? I am a bumpkin for all these people should care. But you’re…” she struggled, squinting her eyes and scrunching her freckled nose as the machinery of her mind ground its way to some kind of an end to her sentence that was eloquent. It failed. Instead, she came out with: “You’re cooler’n they are and they should admit it to themselves and act with some damn respect.”

    Trinity tried and failed for several moments to hold himself together before he burst, doubling over with laughter. She’d never seen him laugh like this in person-- heard it, maybe, over a particularly good meme or something, but never like this, actual tears forming in his eyes. She grinned, wide and crooked, her job here complete. He slapped his knee, struggling to straighten back up. “Ah, Az. You’ve brought us full circle.” He wiped a hand over his eyes. “I give a shit about you. I am also what she said about me. And you are also ‘cooler’n’ them. Yes?”

    Now suddenly she was bashful again. No one ever called her cool. Smart, maybe, or nice or even helpful sometimes, but never cool. She blushed. “Sure. At least I know how to act normal. Sorta. In comparison, at least.” Her hand reached up to scratch behind her ear, sympathy painting her features. “It’s a sad little life she’s about to lead. Honestly, I hope it’s what she actually wants or else she’s gonna be damn lonely without an actual someone to connect with.”

    “It’s a sad life most of us lead,” was his only response. His face was turned slightly from her, into the shadows of the dark hallway, leaving his expression unreadable. “Sometimes there are things more important than our own happiness. Shall we?” He held out a hand, gesturing back down the hall towards the well-lit bustle of the ballroom. It struck Azzy that things in this world seemed to hide better among glitter and blinding lights than they did in the dark. Nevertheless, she placed her own hand gently in his.

    “Now remember, act like you like me or else I might actually have to throw down one of these days.”

    “Right, right.” Trinity huffed out a tiny little laugh, his fingers finding the skin of her hip once more. “As long as you’re alright with it.”

    “I’m a bad actor, this is easier.” She leaned her head into his shoulder, wrapping her arm around his waist and leaning into him. “Plus, this way I don’t even have to stand up straight.”

18. A Dancer In Her Own Right

    Her boots made a gentle beat against the hard metal of the floor. One step then another, sure of herself even as she looked in the opposite direction to her movement. There was a rhythm to her every sway, every object she tossed over her shoulder and caught in the other hand a step in a dance she was choreographing on the spot. Something from this drawer, cross the room to another cabinet, all of it swirling around that constant central point that was the examination table and her workbench. Watching her set up for a deep maintenance test was like witnessing a ballet. Her stretch for something off a high shelf was easy, graceful. She knew exactly how far everything was, exactly how many steps to get there. She carried the objects she collected as though they weighed nothing, a spring in her step the whole way. 

    Trinity sat on a counter as far out of her way as he could get, but he might as well not have been there at all, for all having another person in her space slowed her down. He couldn’t help but marvel a bit at the sureness of her movements, now that she was in a place entirely her own. In society and on a ballroom floor she stumbled occasionally, one might even assume she was clumsy. That thought would be long gone the moment they saw this dance, one made by and for her, the perfect combination of grace and power. Ballroom dances were as much for the observers as the dancers themselves, but being able to observe this felt like a privilege more than a right. Being allowed to appreciate this sight as an outsider, a friend but someone who would admit freely that he couldn’t even begin to understand her, was a gift. In this moment, Trinity relaxed, and let himself appreciate the organic yet mechanical beauty of her, without letting his brain get in the way. After all, dancing was supposed to be instinct above thought. 

    She held out a hand, and he automatically picked up a wrench that sat at his side, placing the handle in her palm. She took it without looking, and the dance went on. She vaulted casually onto a countertop like it was the most natural thing in the world, grabbing some gray box off a shelf near the ceiling and hopping down without a hint of hesitation, no signs of exhaustion as sparks flew in her wake. She made her way back to the center to drop both things off, to pick up something else, to continue this seemingly endless waltz. Individual curls of hair freed themselves from her braid, her beanie long discarded in favor of having the goggles she typically wore around her neck situated atop her head. She stopped briefly at the edge of her stage, only to map out a new path that carved the edges of the room from the center, a small bucket in hand to hold whatever things she needed as she went along. She needed a lot of trinkets and tools, and she knew what each of them were. She paused briefly in front of him, and pointed above his head. It took him a moment to insert himself into her rhythm again, then he knew what she wanted without words. He slid off the counter and held out his hands to make a step for her, boosting her up to whatever it was she needed to reach. She stepped lightly onto his outstretched hands, opening a cabinet and pulling a bottle down in the same motion as her descent back to the ground. She flashed him a grin, crooked and pleased. He heard a snippet of something she was humming to herself, low and sweet, her own orchestra to accompany her own dance. 

    Now that he was no longer needed for the moment, Trinity hopped back up on the counter, content to just watch her work in perfect harmony with herself.