#posting this and skedaddling to host a dinner party

[syoddeye]

under the table

gaz x f!reader x price. ~2k words. +18 only. What is this? Who knows. Just wanted to write a little smut. Very loosely based off this. tags: dubcon, manipulation, semi-public fingering

Ten months into your marriage, you give into Kyle’s pestering. No, perhaps that’s an uncharitable way to phrase it. You finally accept one of his many invitations to meet his commanding officer, his Captain. 

(Though, is there any other way to describe Kyle’s incessant requests? When he asks repeatedly over breakfast or on dates, or when he drapes himself over your back mid-fuck, slowing to a teasing grind in an effort to make you change your mind? Think you’d like him, babe, like him almost as much as–)

You tell him it’s weird to bring up his boss while he’s inside you, but he just laughs and wipes the sweat off your brow.

“He’s important to me. He saw my potential. Just like you.” And how can you refuse when he puts it like that?

You tell him one evening after dinner, drying the dishes as he washes. Ceramic meets steel in a clatter as he drops a plate to cage you into the countertop, pressing kisses to your neck. You can feel his big, pleased smile against your skin, the chorus of thank yous. He barely remembers to turn the sink handle before he drags you off to bed, dishes half done.

It’s only drinks at the pub around the corner, and you don’t know why Kyle’s stressing and fussing over your outfit. Not every day does your husband pick your outfit, so you play along. You perch on the end of the bed to judge the dresses he presents and laugh at the fact that he thinks you’re pulling on three-inch heels for a place with tacky floors.

Kyle relishes that you must lean on him the whole way to the pub, the impractical shoes seemingly bent on catching every crack in the walk. His grip around your waist tightens the moment you cross the threshold, his grin a sly crescent.

He settles you into a booth in the corner, stepping away to buy your drinks. Beneath the table, you tug at the hem of the dress he convinced you to wear. It’s a classic black number, short, one of his favorites, and a bit much for your surroundings. But the fact that he pulled it out tells you the end of the evening will be good for you, that you’ll be duly rewarded for finally agreeing to meet his Captain.

A man appears at the table, eyes giving your top half an unabashedly appreciative once-over. Your mouth falls open as he slides onto the curved bench, stammering out a protest.

“Excuse me, I’m–my husband is at the bar, I’m flattered, but I’m–“

“Easy, love, just wanted a moment alone. Get a look at you.” The deep timbre of his voice is practically a purr, his mouth an amused line beneath an imperial beard.

Your brow pinches in annoyance. This sort of thing doesn’t happen often anymore, not with the pretty ring on your hand. You make a point to lay it on the table. “I’m not here on display, so if you’d please fuck off–“

“Captain Price,” Kyle chirps, a pint in each hand. “See you’ve met the missus.”

A hand pinches your knee, and it’s not attached to your husband.

“I did. Spirited, like you said.” The hand retracts as Captain Price exits the booth, exchanging a look with Kyle you don’t quite understand. “Back in a tick.”

You watch the broad-shouldered man head for a drink, then glare at your husband. “‘Spirited’?”

“Aren’t you?” Kyle chuckles, sidling up until his leg is flush with yours. He pushes the lager to the space in front of you and slings his arm over the back of the booth. “Did he scare you, babe? He can be a bit friendly, but he’s harmless.”

You sincerely doubt it. ‘Friendly’ is a loaded word. It’s how you describe Kyle and his hands’ bad habit of wandering. Ask him, and he’ll say he’s simply smitten and proud to have such a cute thing for a wife. Like it is now, his arm practically lives across your shoulders or around your waist when you’re out and about until his hand ‘gets cold’ or ‘lonely’, and he slots it between your legs or rests it on the swell of your ass. ‘Friendly’ is not something you want his boss to be.

Cordial. Polite. ‘Friendly’ in the way bosses are supposed to be, detached and unassuming. 

The older man scoots in close, muttering something about the noise, effectively sandwiching you between him and Kyle. You retreat into your husband’s side as their conversation kicks off, catching up after weeks of leave. A few names you recognize from Kyle’s stories sprinkle in, giving you minimal context. You drink your beer and nod when appropriate, but otherwise, you people-watch. Though, you don’t watch the right people.

Over your head, behind your back, Kyle stares at his Captain, gaze darting down every so often to how the fabric of your dress pulls taut over your sides. The sliver of lace from your brassiere peeking out underneath a dress strap. He watches a man he trusts with his life openly examine his wife’s profile, effortlessly carrying on the conversation without meeting Kyle’s eyes once. 

“Have we bored you to tears, love?” 

You lift your head, pressing against Kyle, when Price plants his forearm on the table to lean closer. “Not at all. I don’t mind listening, Captain.”

“Told you to call me ‘John’.”

“Sorry,” You apologize. “John.”

John hums, musing. “So she can listen.”

The mild condescension leaves a taste in your mouth, but Kyle squeezes your shoulder, soothing.

“She is, sir.” 

John’s gaze is heavy, dropping to your mouth to your cleavage in one swoop before excusing himself to buy the next around.

“Kyle,” You turn, finding him staring at the back of John’s head. “Can we leave soon? I don’t feel well,” you lie, shifting in your seat.

“Really?” His eyes snap down, the corner of his mouth lifting. “You sure? You haven’t even finished your first.”

“Please,” you glance sidelong at John. I–We can skip to the good part at home.” Usually, the offer works. It gets him on his feet quickly, tugging you to the car or along the walk within seconds. But he hesitates, mirroring your quick look at John.

“One more drink,” Kyle insists, tugging you back into place and forcing you to face forward. His breath hits your neck as he dips his head to whisper into your ear. “Think you can handle it? Be good for me?”

The tone of his voice makes you consciously aware of your nipples protruding through the thin material of your bra, instantly rising to attention at the sheer promise behind his words. Without thinking, your knees press together, capturing his attention. You watch his tongue glide over his lip. Surely, he won’t. Not with his boss here.

His arm remains in place, and his free hand inches closer atop the table. 

“Kyle, don’t.”

“Don’t what, babe?” He smirks, looking away as John reclaims his spot.

“Miss anything?” 

“Not at all.”

While they return to their chat, you cannot disconnect as easily as before. Both men press against your sides despite the booth’s available space. Your heart thrums in your chest, ratcheted to a speed that makes you fidget. Twitch. Kyle’s honeyed words repeat in your head, and you subtly squirm, feeling the heat between your legs pulse.

You don’t notice Kyle’s hand slide off the table until his fingers cup your bare knee. You turn your head, lips parting, but he’s not looking at you. You swallow hard when he pulls, opening your legs. His name is on the tip of your tongue, confusion mixing with embarrassment, and it fizzles into a choked silence. Another hand, broader and more calloused, slips over your opposite thigh, searching.

The din of the pub meets the rush of blood in your ears. The edges of your vision blur, your thoughts static, and it isn’t until a finger drags up the gusset of your underwear that you come crashing into consciousness. You jerk, and two bodies of solid muscle keep you in place like bookends.

“Easy,” John purrs, repeating the movement, slower.

“Kyle–”

“It’s okay, babe,” He coos in your ear.

Your eyes fall to your lap, where Kyle’s hand wrenches your dress to your upper thighs, giving his Captain access. Indignation swirls, beating violently against your skull, a swell of shame racing with a rogue wave of want.

“We leave in a week, right? Cap could use a boost. Think you can send him off with something nice?”

“Kyle, I don’t–” Your breath hitches as a second finger joins the first in rubbing gentle circles, pressing into the dampening cotton. Your leg tries to reflexively close, and Kyle’s hand returns to your knee to stop it. Your hands, formerly weighed down by pure shock, reach for John’s forearm, sinking your nails into skin dusted in coarse hair.

“Babe–” Kyle starts sternly.

John tuts, unaffected by the angry marks you impress into his arm. “It’s alright, Gaz, I don’t mind. We’re just warming up, gettin’ used to the idea.” 

No, no, you are not getting used to the idea. You’re not. You’re not letting him, Kyle’s boss, John, touch you like this in a pub where anyone could see if they stare too long. Any second, you’re going to yell. Tear Kyle a new one. Then John’s fingers deftly slide your underwear out of the way, and instead of a scream, a squeak pushes out as a finger pushes in. Kyle’s hand lifts from your shoulder to guide your face toward his for a kiss.

John’s finger dips in, teasing, and you hear him groan while Kyle’s tongue licks into your mouth, keeping you fixed to him until you need air. You suck it in through short pants, eyes glazed over with a cloud of lust. You’re stupefied and trembling, inhaling sharply when the finger sinks to the webbing and curls. 

“How is she?” Kyle asks, pressing kisses to your temple as your chin dips to your chest.

“Warm, fuckin’ soaked,” John chuckles at how it makes you clench.

Your eyes, half-lidded, stare into the shadowed valley between your open legs. The table blocks the dim lamp above, but the slick on John’s digit, as it withdraws, catches the light. The noise of the bar ought to drown it out, and perhaps it does, yet you hear the lurid, wet sound of his finger plunging in.

The men hold their breath as you go offline, mouth opening and shutting several times like a fish dying in too-shallow of a tidepool. The hand continues its work, stoking a heat you want to both smother and feed. 

“Kyle,” You try again, a breathier, whiny pitch to your whisper.

“I know, I know,” He kneads the fat of your thigh, knuckles bumping into his Captain’s. 

The men exchange a few words you can’t make out. Your foggy eyes lift to scan the bar, some lucidity begging you to at least check for an audience. In the corner, there’s nowhere for someone to linger or gawk to catch what’s happening beneath the table. In a distant corner of your mind, it occurs to you that Kyle must’ve planned this. 

A mounting pressure digs your fingertips into John’s arm harder and harder, which he responds to with a quicker, more insistent rhythm. Kyle’s hand grips your thigh, but there’s no need with how wide you spread them yourself. You bury your teeth into your lower lip, then slap a palm over your mouth. The heel of John’s palm grinds into your clit. 

“Lookit you,” John puffs into your ear. “Thought you weren’t on display?” 

You come, whimpering behind your hand, squeezing John’s finger in a vise.

Somewhere in the bar, a glass breaks, and a chorus of drunken voices boo. Two fingers slip out of your heat and pat the ruined cotton against your sopping cunt.

Outside, the temperature dropped considerably, not that you’d feel it with your husband’s arm over your shoulders and his Captain’s hooked around your waist.

The world’s fuzzy, their words clear.

“She’s a good girl, Gaz.”

“You ought to apply, sir. You might get lucky.”

“Why would I do that, when we’ve got her?”

[lol-jackles]

Did you notice how many empty seats there were for the J2-less headliner yesterday? Shocker.

I haven’t seen any pictures posted, care to point me a few samples?  Only about 60% of the gold, silver, and bronze tickets were sold so those sections are going to look half empty.  Sensitive fans are often bewildered that people would pay a small fortune for these Olympic medal colored ticket but they don’t attend all the panels or go to keroke parties, many even skipped Friday and Saturday entirely and only show up for the Sunday J2 panels.  Except there are no J2 panels today so likely even more skedaddled out today.

Edited to add this provided by a helpful anon:

I would have thought Creation would at least move the chairs around to make it look less awkward-ish.

The high prices didn’t help either.  If they significantly lower the ticket prices they could have sold a lot more tickets, maybe even sell out if they went for a smaller venue.  But Creation probably justify the high prices because it’s for “charity”, like those celebrity hosted charity events where $50 K gets you through the door.  

A democratic fundraising for Hillary Clinton back in 2016 the price of entry was $50 K and that gets you a dinner meal of lobster, mozzarella salad, strawberry shortcake and an intimate conversation with Hillary Clinton on a Sunday evening. (credit)  

So Creation kept to the high prices under the guise of “charity fundraising”, banking on fans shelling the money for such good causes.  Personally I’m glad this idea tanked on them, most fans worked and saved for months and years to go to a convention.  I’ll be interested in how Creation adjust for the Clevenland con.

[ofphcenixes]

howdy y’all !! it is currently new years eve here in australia, and what have i decided to do instead of Being Social and Party Like It’s 1999 ? come off hiatus dkjfgdf. because of a horridly busy and Emo™ time that had me out of action for like, two whole weeks kfjgdfg i’ve decided i’m gonna do a quick recap intro with some wanted connections for both BLUE & NATE so if we haven’t plotted yet, hopefully it’ll be a bit easier !! 

if we’ve plotted before or you dislike me on account of my colour alias or my preference in cheese, please feel free to ignore this !! but i look forward to plotting with all of you properly now that i can be around, so please like this post if you wanna plot. <3 also i owe so many people discord responses dfkjgdf. and pls know i’ve been meaning to reply to those, but i’ve felt so Anxious about leaving some people on read and replying to others that I wanted to do them all at the same time. a foolish choice ? you decide ! ( however i am working on discord messages tonight also ). but read below for Quik Fax on my bois !

BLUE HAWTHORNE. 

about.

link to original intro HERE.

blue’s bio, stats and hcs are HERE.

blue’s connections HERE.

despite what my intro says ( which i v much recommend you read just for a lil more breadth of blue as a muse ) he is,,, a memey boi

don’t mistake his dislike of daisey as an overall representation of him as a person - he’s usually v kind, probably a bit of an enabler lmao and will do anything to see people smile. gotta get that validation.

he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed ( me: has allstar flashbacks ) BUT his slow uptake is counterbalanced by his usually well enlightened humour and genuine concern for others

he’s that bish that plays football and hosts the parties tbh !! 

definitely the class clown. does not have nearly as much game in the Dating World as he thinks, if he could spend two seconds without showing memes. but if memes are your kink, well, blue may be your soulmate lbr

has a bit of a Troubled Past

honestly ?? is trying to move on from the past. he only wants good moments, good friends, good memories in his life. he’s got no time for the negative. ( until daisey had to go and fUCKING DIE )

still owns a tamogotchi

wanted plots.

SPLASH || it’s the middle of winter, and you find yourself at the local pool. the indoor heated pool is probably great this time of year, and blue happens to be the lifeguard at the time. could do a funny thread, a cute thread, a dramatic/emo thread, or really anything !! i’d just love to be able to have the backdrop be blue at his Place of Employment.

STAY THE NIGHT || a common occurrence at st ettiene university is for blue and his roommates to open up their house in the student villa for some fun. especially with the curfew in place, these parties would be more rare and blue never shies away from a challenge. a fun thread perhaps where your muse is drunk. maybe blue takes care of them, maybe tries to take them home safely. maybe they just have a serendipitous Bond over beer and the roar of music. maybe they decide to try and bake and everything goes wrong gkdjfgdkf

INVINCIBLE || it may be clear to you now that blue is basically,,, one big kid. and as st etienne is known for their sprawling forests, it’s a popular place for jogging, picnics, cute rendezvous and well, now a murder lmfao, it’s a scary place to be. do you know what would make it less scary tho ??? a pet. more specifically, a dog. your muse catches blue with the pupper and. an unlikely friendship ( perhaps joint custody ?? ) of a dog omg. we stan rebels in this house.

CHILDLIKE || this one is super lame BUT blue never had much of a childhood in the traditional sense so i’d absolutely LOVE for a cute thread with someone where they do cute childish things ?? play hide and seek, build a tree fort, play with a playstation, eat really old snacks. anything. 

wanted connections.

HISTORY||blue was mixed up in a lot of things as a teenager - petty crime, substance, you name it. this person would have been in this 'group’ with blue also (anywhere from ages 13-19). maybe that person is still very much in that crowd and resents blue for leaving, or maybe they’ve left it behind too.  

TUTOR || oh my GOD blue is destined to fail here. he has a very short attention span, which makes him super frustrated bc he loves what he’s doing. he is going to be a teacher, and it’s only the maths/science that is tripping him up. any person who would help him would earn his eternal gratitude.

FORMER BULLY||this muse grew up in ashmont also, and bullied blue as a child. maybe they’ve reverted their ways and want to be forgiven, or maybe they’ve doubled down on the hate and now see blue for the fake he is.

SIN || blue has cleaned up his act. as a teen he was living a very dangerous lifestyle, and has for the most part, turned it all around. but maybe... maybe there’s someone out there who’s slowly luring blue back to this darkness he misses. their friendship is a secret, they meet in the cloak of darkness ( so blue’s friends are none the wiser he’s headed this way again ), and they simply drink and smoke and other things... >:)

NATHANIEL BALLANTYNE. 

about.

link to original intro HERE

because i applied for nate then literally skedaddled for ages, he hasn’t had time to develop on the dash. however,,,, he is not a Good Bean. in fact i actually kinda hate him in a fun way.

pretentious, wealthy, slightly germophobic, wickedly intelligent, wicked in general, and incredibly conceited

although he is Handsome, he cares more about his image as a modicum of academia as opposed to looking hot. he probably would be considered more attractive if he didn’t have such an extensive collection of suit squares kjgfhdkjfd

was super close with daisey. their parents had sort of pined for the pair to get married actually, for monetary reasons. but nate ?? v much team daisey. he doesn’t show emotions and he won’t admit it to ANYONE, but ,,, he’s super emo about her having been found. 

is both chidi and trevor from the good place

but ye he is gonna yell at you and wanna fite ( but not physically cos slenderman here has noodle arms )

wanted plots.

DINNER PARTY || given that there are a lot of rich socialite families here, i figure that nate’s family is bound to know a few of the other wealthy families !! a fun lil thread we could possibly do is have the pair run into each other at one of these galas. maybe it’s a run-of-the-mill affair, maybe it’s something run by the rutherfords that these two happen to both be attending, maybe it’s run through the university. maybe it’s a charity gala. maybe it’s a new years’ eve event. either way, nate is dressed up in his nicest tux and his most expensive watch, your muse is also dressed up nicely, and we can plot depending on the chemistry/connection/relation between our muses what happens ! they could be friendly somewhat, maybe they hate each other, maybe they’re childhood friends. let’s discuss. >:)

GRIEVE || nate doesn’t do ‘emotion’. he doesn’t do sympathy, empathy, or anything reminiscent to being human. but one day he finds himself at daisey’s grave and is absolutely lost for words - a rarity. and it just so happens your muse is also there too. they could have been there to visit daisey, or maybe someone else. but this could be a v interesting thread and you’ll see a side of nate that... no one should ever see kdfjgdf. 

STARS ABOVE || as a major of astrophysics and heading towards his phd, nate loves the stars. it’s probably the only positive emotion he has kjgfdkjgdf. so i dont know HOW this would work, but perhaps nate and someone else look for the stars together. nate has a whole professional set up and is like,,, a total nerd so he’s not fooled by the mysticism or, admittedly, the romance of it. maybe your character is high and happens upon him at night, maybe your muse thinks that nate is the killer ( lmao ) and wants to investigate, maybe your muse is a fellow chess/debate/environmental conversation member and wants to get to know this billy goat gruff. 

wanted connections. 

FOR BETTER OR WORSE || nate is a perfect person to fulfill everyone’s favourite trope of ‘the good person wanting their love to transform the bad person into a good person’. maybe it’s platonic, maybe it’s romantic, but someone wants  to make nate a better man. what i say to them - good luck lmfao. however i’d love to plot this out as it could go literally anyway !!

ENEMIES || fuck, i need nate to have all the enemy connections. i figure most people will dislike him on principle anyway bc he’s human rubbish kgjkdf BUT maybe they are academic rivals ? maybe they grew up together and have always been competing ? maybe they used to be friends and they fell out ? maybe nate said something horrible to them and they were never forgiven ? maybe their true enemy was daisey and since nate was essentially her best friend for a bit, they are enemies by consequence ? 

HATESHIP || i can’t decide what i want more kdjfgdkf but basically ??? this friendship is of two people who don’t like each other, but they hate literally everyone else so they join together in their mutual hatred. maybe they actually bond more over time, maybe their somewhat petty rant sessions about everyone else never change. either way, it would be super fun to have nate be in a 70 year old woman dynamic with someone dkfjgd. 

these ideas are certainly not definitive, but can be a fun jumping point or perhaps just a source for discussion !! if we haven’t plotted before now is the best time to do so. so if literally any of this you think will work with your muse, or you have an idea inspired by something mentioned here, i promise you, i’m up for pretty much anything ( SPECIAL SHOUTOUT TO MY BEST FRIEND ANGST ). pls like this post if you wanna plot, and i look forward to spamming you all and be lucky enough to interact with all your muses. <3

also sorry i deadass disappeared for a fortnight lmfao