#rich bratty jean

[peacefulharu]

AU Idea I recently had when I saw this post on X:

Nepo baby/ultra rich CEO Jean falling in love with local villager Mikasa when she stages protest of Jean's company's plan to get rid of the hilly area of Shiganshina for development.

[bananayuyu]

Lust is in the Air

Pairing: Hongjoong x f reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 6.4k

Summary: Your best friend drags you along to a family wedding, wanting to add some fun to your all too serious life. Turns out her uncle is the one who really provides the distraction.

Warnings: smut, MDNI, age gap (Hongjoong is 40 reader is 23), some talk during sex about the age gap so really don't read this if you don't like that, some dom/sub dynamics, throat fucking, degradation and praise, bratty y/n, use of pet names (baby, doll), ass eating, anal, unprotected sex

A/n: Sometimes I see a random video of him and I'm reminded all over again how hot I think a very mature Hongjoong would be. Especially if he was mocking me and making me feel pathetic. Yeah this was pure horny, quite filthy for me. This isn't as proofread as my normal stuff so apologies for any mistakes

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Well, maybe it was a good idea. You had been staying in every weekend since the breakup, and maybe being forced out of the house would be good for you. Force you to interact with a few people, to actually put some effort into your appearance. Maybe put on a little makeup, or actually brush your hair.

"Please don't say no," Beatrice says through the phone. "My family would love it if you came, and I'd love it if you came. And we haven't had a chance to spend a weekend like this in forever. There will be free food and free booze!"

"I know you're worried about me, Bea," you respond, sighing.

"I'm not inviting you out of pity," she says.

"I know, I know. Just, give me some time to think it over. I've got an assignment I need to finish for one of my classes, I think it's due this Sunday night. So if I can't finish it this week I'll need to do it this weekend," you reply.

"Okay, just text me. I'm not gonna invite anyone else as my plus one, if you don't end up coming. So no rush, take your time," she says.

"Thank you. You know I appreciate you so much," you say, sighing into the cushion of your couch.

"You know I feel the same," she says, sighing too. You'd both been through breakups recently. It seemed like your hardships always occurred on nearly the same timeline, making you both able to rely on each other for understanding. And she knew getting you out of the house, especially for a weekend wedding, would be good for you. Her cousin's family was rich and hadn't held back in their planning, booking the fanciest hotel in town for everyone. They were paying for everything; the food and drinks of course, and everyone's hotel expenses. You'd knew you'd go. You'd try to finish the assignment beforehand. But even if you didn't, you'd still go.

Driving up to the front of the hotel together felt surreal. Beatrice had asked to take your car, as it wasn't the bright purple color that her's was. This place was fancy, and though neither of your cars were deluxe, at least your's was black.

"Miss McArthur?" the valet asked once you rolled your window down.

"Yeah, that's me," Beatrice said from the passenger seat, reaching over you to hand him her ID. "This is my plus one, y/n. She should be on the list."

After a brief look at his clipboard the man gave you both a satisfied nod. "Do you ladies have any bags we can carry up for you?" he asked.

"Yes, in the trunk," Beatrice answered for you, which you were grateful for. You'd never interacted with a valet before, never been in such a fancy situation in your life. You stumbled out of the car a bit awkwardly, your jean shorts and t-shirt looking ridiculous next to the suit and tie of the man in front of you. He held out his hand to you and for a moment you paused, wondering if he was offering to take your hand. But then you realized he was actually offering to take your keys. Duh.

"Thank you," you said quickly, heading around the car to meet Bea as you walked behind the man carrying your bags.

On the sixth floor you entered your shared room, a spacious and beautifully decorated space with a huge window covering the far wall. It was a sliding glass door, that led out to a balcony overlooking the river below. In the afternoon sun the water glittered, but you knew the view at night would be the real show, absolutely magical.

"Everyone is meeting in the restaurant at 7," Bea tells you, glancing at her family's group chat.

"Well then I've got a little over two hours to make myself look at least a little bit nice. Like maybe I actually belong here," you laugh, opening your bag to grab the casual dress you'd packed.

"Oh dinner tonight won't be fancy, wear whatever," Bea replies, kicking off her sandals.

"Okay but, with your cousins family not fancy would still probably be a little fancy, right?" you ask.

"You don't need to worry about fitting in, dude. No one will care," Bea replies.

"I just don't want to look like an idiot," you say, eyeing her.

"Y/n, you really need to stop worrying. This weekend is about us having fun. I'm not even that close with my cousin Amana, to be honest. We'll probably barely interact with her family. But we get to attend this fancy wedding, all expenses paid. Just wear whatever you feel like, do whatever you want to. Just promise me you'll have some fun," she says.

"Okay, fine," you respond, rolling your eyes jokingly. "I guess I'll try to enjoy this super nice luxury hotel for the weekend."

Bea laughs in relief, at hearing you joke around. It was what you both needed more of; you both had serious work and school lives already to contend with. And seriously disappointing dating lives, too.

As seven approaches you both make your way to the elevator, pausing at you exit the door to inspect the slight amount of makeup you'd put on. You hadn't worn any in weeks and it made you feel really pretty, along with the flowly sundress and sandals you'd decided to wear. You weren't always one for such feminine clothing but today it felt right, and you both bounced down the hall, spirits high. Bea led the way through the lobby to a long hallway, past what looked like a bar and some other room that had a bouncer, to the large restaurant at the end. Immediately you saw the long tables lined up, clearly set up for the wedding party. This wasn't the dress rehearsal, just the welcome dinner. It was only Friday, and the wedding wasn't until Sunday. Immediately you spotted the wine and appetizers filling the table, scanning the tables to try to find your seats.

"I can't find us Bea," you laugh, awkwardly walking past family members you'd never met before.

"Y/n, you're at our table," you hear a familiar female voice say, and turn to see Bea's mom.

"Oh, hi! Thank you!" you say as you walk over to her, giving her a quick hug.

"So glad you could join us sweetie," she says, gesturing to your seats. "See, you and Beatrice are near the end there, across from Nathan. Oh and have you met Beatrice's uncle Hongjoong before?" she asks, gesturing down the table.

You look down to see Beatrice sitting, pulling her chair under her and smiling wide. Across from her, in a casual but fitted grey t-shirt, a man smiles back, handing her a glass of wine he's just poured. He is striking, with jet black hair and tattoos, piercings donning his right ear. His jaw is sharp, his teeth perfect when he smiles. He looks maybe 27, 28. He's wearing an expensive watch, or at least a watch that looks expensive to your eyes, and a small simple chain necklace. His hair is cropped short at the sides; he looks so put together, so professional. So mature. So fucking attractive.

"That's Bea's uncle?" you ask her. It's not just his age that makes you ask. It's the fact that he's basically your dream come true. You see the muscles in his arm flex as he pours Nathan a glass too, and it makes your eyes cross for a moment.

"Well technically I think he's a second cousin, once removed, or something like that. He's a part of Wooyoung's family." Wooyoung was her husband, Bea's dad. You'd met her parents, and her brother Nathan, but never anyone else in her extended family. And you struggled to recall ever hearing about a Hongjoong before. You stared at him a moment before he moved his eyes over to you, catching you off guard. His look was mischievous, like he wants to play or mess with you. It made it hard to believe this was someone Bea called 'uncle.'

"Do you want to sit?" Bea's mom asked you.

"Yeah, sorry," you smiled at her, making you way down.

"Y/n! This is my uncle Hongjoong, and Hongjoong, this is y/n," Beatrice says as you pull out your seat next to her.

"Very nice to meet you," he says with an outstretched hand, his handshake strong and confident in a way that makes your body tingle.

"You as well," you reply, with a bashful smile. Immediately Bea asks you a question and you respond on auto-pilot, not even really hearing. Because your head is swimming in water just from being in this man's presence, and you can't focus. You don't even notice the glass of wine he'd poured you until he sets it down by your appetizer plate, gently bumping the stem on the rim of the plate to make a gentle clink. The sound makes your eyes snap up, and for some reason he looks amused.

"Oh, thank you," you say to him, bowing your head slightly. That mischievous smirk is back on his face when you lock eyes again, like he's trying to tell you something, but you can't be sure what it is. You certainly hope he's thinking what you're thinking. God, he's fucking stunning.

Those are the only words you speak to each other for the entirety of dinner. With so many people in attendance the restaurant is loud, louder still as everyone becomes tipsy, and then outright drunk on the unlimited wine.

"Hey, my parents want me a Nathan to go take pictures with them on the golf course nearby. They booked a photo shoot or something," Bea tells you, rolling her eyes slightly. "I'm not sure when we'll be back but feel free to like, go to the hot tub or do whatever around the hotel," she says.

"Okay, sounds good. Thank you, seriously," you say as you hug her. "I hope it's fun."

"Oh, I'm sure it will be," she laughs. "My parents and their family photos," she shakes her head, making you giggle, as she slowly makes her way to meet her brother at the front door of the restaurant.

You take stock of yourself for a moment, making sure you have your phone and your wallet in your purse, making sure your room key is still in your wallet. You take the last swig of your second glass of wine, patting yourself on the back for not overdoing it this first night when basically everyone around you did. You start sipping on your nearly empty glass of water too, knowing you don't want to wake up hungover tomorrow. The table is basically empty, with everyone slowly clearing out or making their last requests at the bar. You decide you'll go explore in a moment, go scope out the pool and hot tub situation, and maybe see if you can figure out what room is behind that bouncer. But just as you start standing up, Hongjoong approaches the table.

"I got some more waters for the table, but it looks like they've all left," he chuckles, his arms full.

"They went to do a family photo, Bea said," you reply, stuck for a moment awkwardly between sitting and standing. Hongjoong nods, like he already knew.

"Oh, were you about to leave too? Don't let me keep you," he says, the glint back in his eye again.

"I was thinking I'd go take a look at the pool and hot tub, maybe explore a bit," you say. It sort of takes you by surprise that you're sharing this with a total stranger, given your usual instinct to not share anything with people you don't know. You easily could have excused yourself, and been exploring the hotel alone. But deep down you know why you're sharing it. You hope he picks up on that reason, too.

"That's a great idea," he says, gently setting the waters down. "Mind if I join you? I was thinking of exploring the hotel some myself."

Bingo. You smile, eyes fluttering at him for a second. You truly don't even mean to do it, but the way he looks at you has you feeling shameless.

"Sure, I wouldn't mind," you reply, stepping out from your chair and gently pushing it into the table.

"Want to take a water with you?" he asks, holding one out.

"I don't think we can just take the glass with us," you reply, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Oh, who cares," he says glancing over his shoulder, seeing all of the wait staff occupied at the bar with everyone's last minute orders. "I'll carry it out, if you're that worried," he says, cocking his head slightly to the side and eyeing you with what must be mock pity.

"Fine," you roll your eyes at him, trying to fight the smile forming on your face from betraying how much his tone and facial expression are affecting you. You turn around and start strolling out of the restaurant, not even waiting for him. Once you're exiting he's already caught up, two water glasses in hand. You turn to your right, heading for the lobby.

"Wrong way, y/n," Hongjoong says lowly from behind you, making you stop in your tracks. "The pool is out those doors at the end of the hall."

"The sign in the lobby says the door to the pool is by the front desk," you reply, looking over your shoulder at him. The hallway is dimly lit, and the shadows on his face make his jaw look even sharper.

"Well that door also leads to the pool," he says, gesturing to the end of the hall. You just stare at him a moment, not sure why you feel the instinct to argue. "You don't believe me?" he asks, chuckling and looking you dead in the eye, before obviously snaking his gaze down the entirety of your body. Now that he's standing you see the fitted black pants and black dress shoes he's wearing, making his outfit look even more professional. His thighs look strong, and his stance is one of confidence, his entire demeanor cool and collected. You want to come up with a witty retort but can't think of anything, so you just start walking the way he's said to, again passing him by without slowing down to meet him. You open the doors gently but don't stop to hold them for him, brattiness taking ahold of you. Maybe it's the fancy hotel, or the wine, but you feel like a princess who deserves whatever she wants. And right now that's to piss Hongjoong off a bit, and see the pool.

"I thought nice girls hold doors open for the elderly," he says once he's exited too, sidling up to you. You stand by the long edge of the pool, taking in the lights below the surface that dance through the water. You turn to him and roll your eyes, taking the water glass he offers you immediately. "So, what do you do?" he asks.

"I'm still in school, I'm in my senior year," you say, turning back to the water. "And I work part time as an administrative assistant in the Dean's office, to help cover some of my tuition."

"College senior," he says, like he's mulling it over. "So that makes you how old?"

"Guess," you say, turning to him again, this time with your whole body.

"22," he replies. His voice low, like he's hesitant to say it.

"Close, 23," you say, not lowering your voice to meet his.

"And how old do you think I am?" he asks you, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Mmm, like, 38?" you joke, squinting your eyes as you look intently at his face. The feeling of wanting to piss him off still hadn't left you.

"How astute," he replies, nodding. "People usually think I'm younger."

"You're actually 38?" you ask, bewildered.

"Actually, 40," Hongjoong replies, making your eyebrows shoot up.

"You're lying," you say, rolling your eyes and shaking your head at him.

"Wow, second time tonight you've thought that. I don't know what I've done to make you think so poorly of me," he replies, that mischievous look again painting his face.

"Oh, shut up," you say, rolling your eyes harder this time, wanting to reach out and playfully punch him. Or maybe not so playfully. He's looking more and more perfect by the second, and his attitude, the way he's just so confident and calm, is making you hot and bothered. You know it maybe it's wrong, but now that you know his real age you find this whole scenario even hotter. If you were honest with yourself you'd always dreamed of fucking an older man, but the few you'd gone on dates with or had the chance to talk to had always been so immature, insecure, and underwhelming. Just like all the other guys you'd dated. It was a massive disappointment to learn that age didn't often give people that self-assured demeanor that you so desired. But clearly it did sometimes; the proof was standing in front of you.

"That wasn't very nice," Hongjoong replies, fixing you with a look of disapproval that makes your thighs clench involuntarily, as the two of you stare each other down merely feet apart. You hold his gaze as long as you can before you look down at your feet, his stoic demeanor feeling like a brick wall you can't break through.

"You're very pretty, y/n," he says, stepping forward to lift your face up to his.

"Really?" you ask him, eyes wide. Playing it just the way he likes.

"I know you know how pretty you are, you've been giving me those eyes all night," he says, looking like he disapproves. "You're a bit of brat, too, aren't you?" he asks, his hand moving to the side of your cheek.

"No comment," you giggle, and he grabs your hand, bringing it to his upper arm. You grab onto his bicep as he moves his hand to your waist pulling you two closer.

"Dance with me," he says, pulling you slightly into his chest.

"There isn't any music playing," you say, laughing. And it's the way that he doesn't just automatically laugh at your little comments that really gets you going.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you didn't like me very much," he says seriously, pulling you in and starting to rock you back and forth. You dance together for a few minutes, no words being exchanged as your bodies get used to the proximity, as your mind begins to swim again, even more so now that his hands are on you. You want him to kiss you, do anything, now, but he keeps his hands where they are, still leading you around in slow circles. Fuck it, you think. You lift your hands to his face and pull him in, your lips meeting in a perfect kiss, his hand on your waist moving up your back as he holds you to him, leaning you back as he deepens it. You hold steadily onto his bicep for balance, your breathing fast as you stick your tongue in his mouth, not hiding your desperation. You don't care to, not when you've spent two months without this feeling, tortured over the idea that no one at your school would ever consider you an option after your last relationship ended the way it did.

And just when it seems like you're the only desperate one, Hongjoong moves his hands down, running them up your thighs and under your dress to find your panties. He finds none, much to his surprise, which makes his dick harden even further. He gropes your ass, deepening the kiss more, making you arch your back in neediness. And then he snakes his hand around, slowly moving to your core, before suddenly running a finger over your slit, making you gasp. You've forgotten where you are, totally engrossed in the feelings he's giving you. You buck your hips against his hand, moaning pathetically into his mouth, your legs feeling like they might give out on you. He starts circling your entrance, finally pushing one finger in maybe an inch, when you finally remember where you are.

"Wait, fuck, not out here," you say, pulling back from him. He pulls his hand away immediately, his fingers glistening in the lights of the night.

"You don't want everyone to see?" he asks, a smirk on his face.

"Not when the people paying for me to be here could see," you say. Your lips look swollen and wet from the kiss, and it makes him want to grab you again.

"You're the one who kissed me," he says, his voice low. And you know there's more he's implying, that you weren't just the one who kissed him but that you had rocked against his hand, had wanted his touch. That you'd kissed him desperately, making him unable to stop himself. The implication is inappropriate, the accusation he's laid on you not fair in the slightest. He has no way of knowing what you were trying to make him do, or what you wanted to happen. You hadn't said a word. And yet, he's totally right, making it hard for you to respond.

"That's-," you sigh, your pussy still throbbing from your proximity.

"My room is on the 7th floor," he says.

"Okay," you reply. It's all you can say. You stand completely still, stuck to the spot, waiting for him to move. Instead he puts his wet fingers in his mouth, sucking off your slick in one smooth motion, humming in satisfaction. Your mouth gapes at his lewdness, struck now by just how visible you both obviously are.

"Let's go," he says, motioning his head towards the door.

Your legs move automatically, your mind playing over and over the visual of him licking his fingers, the look of utter bliss on his face. As you walk the hallway he comes behind you, putting a hand on the small of your back, making your body melt into him slightly. It feels good but you gently remove his hand, not wanting anyone to see. You pray that neither Bea nor any of her family are in the lobby when you enter, and thankfully, your prayers are answered. Nor does anyone join you two on the elevator, which makes you willing to stand closer to Hongjoong than you would any other stranger. But still, you don't touch him. As you both exit you walk behind him, almost enough space between you that you could believably look like two total strangers, walking to separate rooms. Until he unlocks his door, holding it open as you slip inside, like you're really not supposed to be in here.

As soon as he closes the door he's pulled you to him, his back slamming into the wall as you nearly crash together, the air between you thick with lust.

"I'm almost twice as old as you, y/n," he whispers in your ear, feeling your pussy clench against his thigh that you're straddling, your mouth on his neck. "You like that," he states, not even asking you anymore. "You like that I'm way too old for you. Too old to be touching you like this."

It's wrong, so wrong and you know it, but the further he pushes it the more you're surrendering to what's happening, to what your body truly craves.

"You've never been fucked right by those stupid boys at your college, have you? You need me to fuck you right, to show you how good you can feel. That's why you were bratty with me, you wanted me to be riled up. Want me to fuck you hard, like I'm mad. Like I'm punishing you," he growls, his breathing heavy as you bite down on his neck, sending sparks of pain and pleasure through his head. "Fuck, you really want me mad, don't you?" he asks and you whine in response, your whole body tingly with anticipation.

"Get on your knees," he says, pulling you back from him, your hair already a mess from his hands, the straps of your dress falling down your shoulders and nearly making your tits spill out. "Open your mouth," he commands, and you follow immediately, your wide eyes looking up at him in desire, his thumb running over your bottom lip. "I like when you do what I say," he says, pinching your cheek and making you blush, the praise making your insides turn to jelly. He unzips his pants smoothly, undoing the button and swiftly pulling out his hard cock, the tip a slight shade of red and already leaking slightly.

"Look what you did to me," he says, palming himself, your tongue nearly falling out of your mouth as you salivate over his beautiful cock. "I thought for a moment I'd have to come up here and deal with this all on my own, after you eye-fucked me all dinner," he continues, slowly stroking his length, moving closer to your open and waiting lips. "I should have known you weren't wearing any panties from the way you were acting," he says, gently running his tip along your outstretched tongue, spreading your spit around your face with it and making a mess of you. "No bra, no panties. You wanted to be fucked tonight." Slowly he enters your mouth, gently holding your head as he pushes further in, gently tapping the back of your throat and making you gag. You moan, your pussy clenching around nothing, wanting him to fill all of your holes at once. "That feels good, doesn't it. Gagging on my cock," he smirks, your eyes fluttering closed as he pushes in again, this time a little harder. "Eyes on me baby, don't look away," he says, slowly beginning to fuck your throat, gently enough not to choke you but deep enough to make you repeatedly gag, your spit covering his cock and running down your chin, your face a complete mess. "Fuck, your mouth feels good," he groans, his face scrunching up in pleasure for a moment, before he looks down to meet your eyes again, which are now glued to him, glued to every change in his expression, every flick of his tongue across his bottom lip. "I'm gonna go harder baby, I know you can take it," he warns you before picking up his pace, his cock nearly bottoming out in your mouth as he holds your head in place, repeatedly fucking into your throat. You're automatically swallowing around him, your body's reflexive actions taking over. "Fuck, so good," Hongjoong sighs, your head feeling light from the lack of oxygen and your body swimming in pleasure. You could let him use your throat all night if he wanted to, especially if he keeps talking to you like that. Like you're dumb and you don't even know what you want. Like he has to tell you or you'll never figure it out.

Finally you choke hard, your body instinctively pulling you back, and he pulls out of your mouth letting you catch you breath, stroking a hand through your hair. You run a hand across your mouth, trying in vain to clean yourself up a bit, wiping the saliva on your dress and staring up at him open mouthed, your entire body covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Hey, don't ruin this," he says pulling at your dress, moving behind you to help take it off. He slowly undoes the zipper, gently pulling the straps down and off your arms before helping you stand to step out of it. Completely bare, you stand in front of him, his hand coming up to spank you, grabbing your ass hungrily in his hand. You yelp at the impact, like you weren't expecting it. Like you hadn't been sticking your ass out ever so slightly, arching your back to add to the affect. "Don't write checks you can't cash, doll," he says, making you giggle and turn your head to face him, a look of utter delight on your face. "It really makes you happy when I scold you, doesn't it," he says, staring you down.

"Why are you so clothed?" you ask, finding your words.

"You want to see me naked?" he teases.

"Just seems like you're hiding something. Maybe under all that nice clothing you're really not that built," you laugh, knowing it would strike a nerve. It wasn't hard to tell that he cared about his figure.

"Go sit on your hands on the bed," he retorts, his eyes narrowing, as he starts taking off his watch, undoing the clasp on his chain. He sets both down on the table gently, pulling his shirt over his head next, revealing that most of his abdomen is also covered in tattoos, his broad shoulders and broad chest. Slowly he sits on the side of the bed to untie his shoes, periodically looking up at you to make sure you haven't moved, moving almost comically slow. You wriggle in anticipation, watching him slowly reveal himself, his muscular thighs finally on display to you as he pulls down his pants and boxers, his cock hard and a deeper shade of red now, still glistening from your spit.

"Lay on your stomach," he says, moving over you when you oblige, raking the hair out of your face so he can see you. "This is what you get for sticking your ass out," he says, swiftly moving down to lick over your hole, making you gasp at the coldness of his tongue. Immediately the feeling runs to your clit, your entire crotch alive with pleasure, your back arching instinctively to meet his movements. He spreads your cheeks to get better access, moving his tongue in quick circles around your tight entrance, your body slowly relaxing from the pleasure he's providing.

And suddenly he's off of you, reaching into his bedside drawer and pulling out a bottle, swiftly lubing the fingers of his right hand and moving them to your waiting hole, gently pushing one in. You groan, the tight muscles stretching already, your body arching even further to give him the perfect angle as he gently starts pumping in and out of you.

"You like getting your ass eaten, I knew you would. So dirty," he says, making you whine in agreement, your brows scrunched together in pleasure. Soon he adds another finger, the stretch again making you groan, your body instinctively tightening up at the intrusion. "I know you can take it," he says, not even attempting to comfort you. "Don't brats like getting their asses fucked?" he asks, his words making your clit ache, your body finally releasing again as he works you open with two fingers, taking the opportunity to quickly add another. "I knew it," he says, satisfied with how quickly he's stretched you open, how pliant your body is in his hands, how he's getting exactly what he wants from you. Still fucking you with his fingers, he opens the lube bottle again with his other hand, generously dousing his achingly hard cock. Gently he pulls his fingers out of you, frozen for a moment staring at the way your hole has opened up, nearly drooling from the visual.

"Spread you legs," he says, pushing your knees apart himself, pulling you ass up towards him, just where he wants you. Lining himself up, he slowly pushes in, the stretch even more severe this time, making you whine in pain, your breaths short and stifled with your head now shoved into his pillows. "What, you can't take it? Is it too big?" he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "My little brat can't take my cock in her ass?"

Tears start forming in your eyes from how turned on you are, the pain a secondary feeling as it all starts to feel just right, as it starts morphing into only pleasure as your muscles finally relent. You feel like you're being split open, like you're opened up more than ever before, like he's gutting you from the inside. Finally he bottoms out, reaching into you further than you thought you could feel, your clit throbbing painfully with need.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans from above you, brushing a hand along your cheek in an almost sweet gesture, seeing the single tear stain on your cheek. He waits a moment, waiting to feel if your body is ready, and suddenly your hips are moving into his like your body is begging him to move. He slowly pulls out, almost all the way, then thrusts back in, making you gasp at the intense pleasure, your breath nearly getting caught in your throat. Grabbing your hips he starts forcefully thrusting, chasing his own pleasure as he's sucked into your ass, the tight muscles threatening to make him come in an instant. Desperate for some relief you move your hand to your clit, desperately trying to circle it as he rocks you hard with the force of his thrusts. His eyes are glued to your ass, glued to the way his cock looks buried inside you, and your face, the way your mouth hangs permanently open as you moan in earnest, clearly not controlling a single sound that is coming out. The raw sounds make him fuck into you even harder, the way you sound so pathetically fucked out, like you can't believe this feels so good. Eventually his eyes roam down again and spot your hand, swatting it away in an instant, his anger boiling up again.

"Is my cock not enough?" he scolds, his voice gravelly from breathing so raggedly, the air in the room stiflingly hot. In this position it's hard, but quickly he finds a good angle and lands a sharp smack on your clit, the pain lancing through your core like lightning, and suddenly your whole body is shaking, your nerves completely on fire. "Even with my cock buried in your ass you want to piss me off, don't you?" His voice is raised, nearly to the point of losing control, but still very calculated. He lands another sharp slap on your clit, this time not as hard, but in an instant your orgasm washes over you, your whole body shaking hard as you squeeze down around his cock making it hard for him to keep moving.

"Fuck, baby, shit," Hongjoong curses, his climax hitting him by surprise, his cock milked by your tight walls squeezing down on him, your body taught with just how hard you came. His orgasm crashes over him fast and hard, his body going limp just after yours does, as you both collapse in a pile on the bed, his cum coating the walls of your ass in silky wetness. Your legs are still shaking, tucked up underneath you, his cock still buried deep inside. The position is awkward but you don't even feel it, the pleasure still rippling through you as you breath hard into the soft pillow. Hongjoong crashes onto your back, his arms instinctively wrapping around you, his chest and stomach rapidly rising and falling from his heavy breathing. His skin feels sticky and hot against yours, his hot breath fanning over your cheek as he plants a kiss there, intently watching your face as you come down.

"I'm gonna pull out now, okay?" he asks, eliciting a hum of agreement from you. Slowly he pulls backwards, his cum spilling out of you the moment he's pulled out entirely, spilling down your ass cheek onto the bedsheets. Hongjoong makes his way to the bathroom, quickly cleaning himself up before grabbing a washcloth for you, dousing it in luke warm water. Coming back to the bed he gently moves you onto your back, to the side of the pool of cum. He gently wipes you down, making you moan when he brushes over your clit, making himself chuckle.

Glancing over at the clock beside his bed you see it's nearly 11pm, your mind spinning. Quickly you move to the ground to rummage through your purse, glancing at your phone to see a text from Beatrice reading 'I'm back now, don't stay out too late miss.'

Be back soon, you write back.

"I should be going," you say, trying to stand up, your wobbly legs making it difficult. Hongjoong is at your side in a moment, stabilizing you, helping you to sit down on the bed while he grabs your dress off the floor. You hastily pull it over your head, running your fingers through your hair and feeling the knots that have formed. Quickly you zip the back of your dress, shove your phone in your purse and stand to slip on your sandals, not wanting to keep her waiting. The sudden quietness of Hongjoong also has you feeling slightly on edge, and really your head is just spinning, from every unexpected thing that happened.

"I'm not still mad, you know," he says gently, grabbing your hand as you move to breeze past him.

"Yeah?" you ask, looking at him with confusion.

"You don't need to still be acting like a kid who is in trouble," he says, kissing your hand. "That was just, that. You can talk to me like anyone else, now."

You eye him, swallowing thickly. What does one even say, now? Could he tell how inexperienced you were with hookups?

"I'm not sure what's going on in that pretty head of yours. I hope it's happy thoughts."

You nod, a smirk playing on your lips. You're speechless, unable to think a complete thought. It all just plays in your head, his tongue on your ass, his fingers stretching you out, his cock pounding into you so hard. And the smack on your clit, the way it made you come so fast, the ghost of the feeling still present in your core.

"Not those thoughts. You're gonna jump me again," he laughs, and finally you smack him, punching his arm soon afterwards. Pushing past him you walk fast, opening his door and spinning around, your eyes piercing as you meet his.

"What, you can't take my teasing?" he asks, but suddenly his door swings shut, your face gone in a flash.

As you saunter down the hall to the elevator you feel fucking amazing, swinging your purse over your shoulder and flipping your hair to the side, your sleepy eyes boring holes into the metal doors.

Well, she did tell you to have some fun. You just hoped Beatrice wouldn't be too mad you fucked her uncle.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet Cute - Law's Story - 6

Source for pic

The Great Pretender 6 🔞

Word Count: 6110

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Law is a soft dom; you have bratty tendencies (not all the time); voice kink; praise kink; cursing; very suggestive behaviour and innuendo from the start; sexual tension; teasing; so much flirting; romance; slow-burn; fluff; slight angst; mature audiences (though explicit NSFW moments will be properly tagged on the chapter); possessive Law; protective Law; soft Law; teasing Law; manipulative Doflamingo; inappropriate Doflamingo; fake relationship trope; only one-bed trope; reader has some anxiety issues; reader is a control freak and perfectionist; modern day AU

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.

Notes: Just a little heads up for the first scene 🔞 the rest is SFW! Also, doesn't it feel right for Doffy to slip in a few words of Spanish every now and then? I'm sure I've seen people do that in x reader fics (it's not new!) and maybe that's why it feels right...

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil

Masterlist

|Chapter 5| | |Chapter 7|

-*- Start of 🔞 -*-

Law closes the door to the bathroom and locks it. Now that he's alone he lets himself lose a sliver of his control. He slumps against it softly and closes his eyes, ragged breaths leaving his parted lips. 

He went too far. 

He didn't mean to make you come, he just wanted to tease you. But your face, your whimpers, your heat… it was all too much for him to handle. He needed to feel you close, to have you wrapped around him and holding him like a vise. He gave in. He shouldn't have. 

He kicks his sneakers away and unbuttons his jeans with a soft groan, finally freeing his bulging cock. He got rock hard as soon as he started to touch you. He can usually prolong the teasing as far as he wants without getting this turned on himself. 

But your whimpers… the way you gave up and begged, your willingness to let him do what he wants to you. It's all too much and yet, he is well aware that it will never be enough. He got a taste and now he’s obsessed. 

Turning the shower on cold and removing the rest of his clothes, he hisses as soon as the water hits his back. He needs to regain his control. He shouldn't have gone this far, he'll have to apologise to you. 

But for now, not even the icy water can take away the sound of your mewls in his ears, the way your lips part willingly for him and the way your flesh moulds easily in his hands. 

“Fuck!” He curses softly as he punches the wall of the shower in frustration. Closing his eyes, his hand finds his cock throbbing and he palms it. A gentle squeeze and then a rougher one. He imagines you on your knees, willingly opening your mouth for him, your small, warm hands grabbing his length and licking it from top to bottom, your sweet eyes holding his gaze. 

“Yes, sweetheart, good girl.” He mumbles against his teeth as his hand bobs up and down. He won't need much stimulation. He'll unravel just as easily as you did earlier. The tension between both of you is so thick that it's crushing. 

He groans and tenses, he's so close. 

He wasn't lying about your love story. Maybe it's not love yet, but it's something he hasn't felt in a while. You're special, you make him happy. 

His hips thrust forward, faster against his hand as he pumps himself in a maddening rhythm. He's now picturing you squirming beneath him, your lips chanting his name in abandon, your whole body clenching his. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

It's not just attraction and want. 

He comes with a muffled grunt, his viscous seed spilling against his stomach, his hand and dripping down the drain of the shower. His breaths are uneven and the ice-cold water does nothing to break this heat. 

It's not just attraction and want. It's so much more. 

-*- End of 🔞 -*-

You sit on the armchair as soon as Law enters the bathroom. Your heart is still beating out of sync, you're still breathless and a haze fills your brain. 

How did he make you come undone so easily? He didn’t even need to properly touch you. What kind of spell does he have on you?

As you get up, trying to shake away all the lingering feelings of his touch and lips on your body, you remember how he couldn’t even look into your eyes afterwards. You shouldn’t have let go so easily. Maybe he wanted you to last longer. You didn’t discuss orgasms in your boundaries, but, as you ruled out sex, you didn’t realise that it might happen with just teasing. 

You can’t help but think that you’ve, somehow, crossed some kind of unspoken barrier. You’ll need to apologise to him. 

And you both might need to make your boundaries clearer. 

It’s not that you mind what happened. You don’t regret it and you wouldn’t mind at all if it happened again. But if he’s not comfortable with it, it needs to be spoken about. 

Sighing heavily, you stare at your clothes, about to choose something to wear to dinner, but you don’t know what to wear. Is it formal? Casual? Are jeans too casual but a cocktail dress too formal?

You’re about to sit back down again, your tablet already open on your trusted spreadsheet to distract you, while you wait for Law to come out of the bathroom so he can tell you what clothes would be appropriate, when the door opens. 

He has a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair wet and still dripping against his tattooed torso and you have to swallow hard before you start to drool. His eyes meet yours for a brief second and you can already tell how much collected he is since your earlier interaction.

“I didn’t grab any clothes before hitting the shower.” He says, to justify his state of undress.

“It’s alright, I was just wondering what I was supposed to wear. Is dinner formal? Casual?” Your voice is still altered and on edge, too high-pitched to be your normal tone and you’re sure he picks up on it.

A soft chuckle escapes his lips as he opens his bag to fish out some clothes. “Dinner in this household is always a formal event. Though you are fine with semi-formal clothes.” Immediately your eyes rake the closet for what dresses you packed. There are some that fit the description so you should be fine.

“I shouldn’t have gone too far. It wasn’t my intention.” Your head whips back at him. He’s scratching the back of his neck - still undressed - and has a conflicted expression on his face. Though he can hold your gaze now. 

A nervous smile tugs at your lips as you turn and shake your head. “No, no, it’s okay. It was my fault I… I got too caught up in the moment and-...”

“You don’t have to apologise for feeling pleasure.” His voice drags and envelops you. There’s a sense of safety in his words, a lack of judgement for any and all of your actions. Suddenly it hits you:

As controlling as he tends to be in these intimate settings - domineering even - he makes you feel free. You can be yourself. You can be whatever you need to be and he’ll accept you with open arms. For who you are.

And that is very new, uncharted territory.

Because with Ichiji you were always trying to be someone you were not. Faking your happiness, your likes and dislikes, just faking!

With Law…

It’s simple. So, so simple. 

And this realisation makes your breath hitch, leaving you speechless and winded. Even from where you’re standing, you can see the way Law’s jaw clenches and ticks as he takes in your reaction with calculated measures. 

“I won’t do it again. We never have to go that far again, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.” Is that regret or sadness in his voice?

You shake your head with vigour. He’s got it all wrong. Yet you don’t trust yourself enough to open your mouth at this moment. Your throat is tight with tension. It has been some time since you have felt validated and actually heard. It’s silly, heck, it’s silly as hell, but the simplest things are the ones that trigger you the most. 

Law approaches you tentatively, he can probably sense something is wrong but the all-too familiar crease wrinkling his brows tells you he thinks he’s the cause of this tension. And he is, but for all the right reasons. 

“Do you want me to leave?” He asks, taking a step back even before fully reaching you. 

“No.” You finally find your voice, though it’s still trembling and weak. “I’m not hurt, or ashamed, or angry, or anything like that!” You let your eyes meet his, a blush on your cheeks and a soft smile tugging at your lips. “It just hit me that I can be exactly who I am with you. And that’s okay. I don’t need to pretend anymore.” Then you chuckle, a snort following your outburst. “I mean, we are pretending, but between you and me… I… well, I can’t quite explain it, but it’s good. I’m feeling good! Because of you.”

The sigh that escapes his lips is soft and full of relief. 

“I don’t need to understand completely. As long as I didn’t make you uncomfortable. As long as you’re happy.”

You nod with another smile and he returns to his hunt for clothes while maintaining a close eye on you. 

“Law.” You whisper, not looking at him while you too select the clothes you’re going to wear before heading towards the bathroom. “You said you wouldn’t do it again but… I…” He’s silent. He’s going to make you say it.

Somehow you know he’ll always make you say what you want, express your desires and needs. He wants to hear you. 

Wait, always? That’s too long…

“I won’t mind if you… do it again. Nothing’s changed. No boundaries were added. At least on my part.” You briefly look at him. He’s wearing a smug smirk on his lips, just a raised corner of his mouth as his amber gaze pierces you. “Do you-...” 

“No boundaries added.” He interrupts you and you nod. Already that familiar heat is starting to pool in your belly again. All the possibilities are still open. 

And you’re willing to take them with open arms.

-*-

The air between you has cleared and everything is back to normal. You're both showered and dressed and ready to go mingle with family and close friends. There's still a bit of time before you're expected downstairs so you're sitting on your knees in the middle of the bed, with the tablet open in front of you, your notebook on the side and you're chewing on the end of your pen, mouthing facts and curiosities about Law in order to memorise them. 

Law has been sitting in the armchair across from you for about ten minutes. His chin resting against his knuckles and eyes fixed on you, watching your every move. 

“Are you nearly done?” His voice chimes with amusement. 

“Not even close.” You mumble and sigh, opening your arms and falling back to face the ceiling. “I'm so nervous. I'm so doomed. Law, I don't want to fail you.” You drape your arm over your eyes for dramatic effect. 

Your whine is both desperate and frustrated. You think you're ready for all the personal questions anyone sends your way, and even if there's something amiss, you've only been ‘dating’ for two months! It's completely believable. 

However, before you can rally and say you're prepared, you feel pressure on your ankles and Law pulls you towards the edge of the bed, dragging you close to him. Leaning on his arms, which he places on each side of your head, he stares at your eyes deadpan. 

“You're ready. You've got this. We've got this.” His gaze doesn't waver and he's hovering very, very close to your face. So you just nod. His presence is too intense for anything other than that. “Use your words, sweetheart. Do you have this?”

“I've got this.” You whisper. 

“Good.”

For a second it almost looks as if he's going to kiss you, but he backs away and a feeling of dread in your stomach makes you wonder if something’s really changed after what happened earlier. The second after, you’re chastising yourself. Nothing’s changed because there’s nothing to change. You’re nothing to each other. Period.

You’re helping him in a tricky family situation and he’s helping you with your over-controlling issues. Nothing else.

“Let's go.”

-*-

You end up choosing a beautiful cocktail dress that is not overly formal but is not as casual as a summer dress and, after fixing your hair and dress again - from having been dragged by Law on top of the bed - he assures you that you look stunning and you both leave the room. 

Law's dressed in black jeans, a white dress shirt - half open to show off his tattoos - and a blazer. You sigh. You can't get enough of his sexiness. 

He extends his hand for you to take and you can't help a small smile from curling your lips. This does feel like a real relationship, so you need to keep reminding yourself that it's all fake. You can't fall in love with Law over a fake relationship. 

Wait, fall in love? Where did that come from? 

Law leads you through corridors and halls and, slowly, his demeanour becomes charged again. The usual scowl in place, the familiar creasing in his forehead. It's like he's a different person around his uncle, so much more guarded. So much more unattainable. When you reach the stairs to descend to the hall where all the guests are mingling before heading towards the dining room, Law lets go of your hand and places it on your lower back instead. 

“It's showtime.” He mutters softly as you begin descending. You can feel all the eyes turning towards you, it seems like everyone is already gathered downstairs. 

Baby 5 is the first to approach you, a big smile on her face as she drags a taller man with an annoyed expression on his face towards you. “Cousin Law! I've missed you!” She tries to hug him but Law grunts and refuses, making you chuckle. “This is Sai! My husband-to-be! Isn't he handsome?” She says dreamily. Sai doesn't seem too thrilled to be here at all, but when their eyes meet, you can see how his gaze softens. There might be love under all that gruffness after all.  

Law clasps the man's hand and shakes it, then introduces you to them. 

“Hello, it's very nice to meet you, and congratulations on your nuptials.” You say with a smile. “You make the most wonderful couple.”

Baby 5 is delighted with you. “Oh, Law! She's wonderful!” When Law looks at you to confirm her words, you somehow find his eyes softening as well, but he's interrupted before he can say anything. 

“Trafalgar, it's been a while since I've seen you.” A blonde man with prominent scars on his face and a wide grin approaches. He speaks to Law but his eyes linger on you. “Baby 5 is right, your friend is wonderful.”

Law's scowl becomes more pronounced, his hold on your back tightens and he pulls you closer. “It's girlfriend, Bellamy.”

Bellamy chuckles and raises his hands in apology before you and Law move on to greet other guests. There are some board members Law said would be present and they're an odd bunch - Trebol, Diamante, Pica and Vergo are their names. The bridesmaid, Sugar, looks really young but Law tells you she's just two years younger than Baby 5. A groomsman, Buffalo and, of course, Doffy and Cora. The bride says that the rest of the wedding party will only arrive tomorrow so it's quite an intimate affair. 

To you, it is anything but intimate. It's intimidating. Doflamingo keeps watching you and Law like a hawk, waiting for some kind of slip-up; his associates are already trying to whisk Law away, though he manages to postpone business talk until after dinner; and Bellamy keeps leering at you. 

When Cora cheerfully announces that it's time to head to dinner, you close your eyes briefly and take a deep shaky breath. Law notices your discomfort and lingers behind, letting the guests enter the dining room ahead of you. 

Then, he turns you towards him, his fingers grazing your ear and then your earring, trailing down your neck as you sigh. The signal. “If this were real,” he whispers near your ear so only you can hear, “you wouldn't have to feel nervous. You'd know I would be there at your side every step of the way. You'd count on me.”

Law's eyes bore into yours as his hands cup your cheeks in an intimate gesture. It’s so comforting that you have to keep repeating in your head that this is all fake and that he just used the signal! Then, you nod in acknowledgment of his words. “I do, Law. I count on you. I trust you.” You don't need to use the signal for your words, they're not fake, they're the absolute truth. You spy Doflamingo watching you from the doorway and Law must have seen him too, because he leans forward and gives you a small peck on the cheek. The small smile on your lips that follows his gesture is also something that is completely true. 

Law clasps your hand in his to lead you to the dining room but Doflamingo still looms on the threshold, observing both of you closely, his arms crossed over his chest and a huge grin on his face. “Law, princesa. I hope you had an agreeable rest, earlier.” 

You blush at his words. It's almost as if he knows something happened between you, but he can't know, right? It's just a silly guess. “Yes, Uncle, very agreeable. The car ride was quite tiring.” Law pulls you but Doflamingo steps forward, cutting your path and staring directly into your eyes. 

“And you, cariño?” A shiver runs down your spine as you face the intensity of his stare and your heart rate accelerates dramatically.  

“Yes, sir. Very agreeable, thank you.” You can't help but notice how small and meek your voice sounds under his scrutiny. Doflamingo really is someone who demands respect. 

“Hmm…” He starts, holding a hand against his chest, and then whispers. “Careful, you're making me like you. You're really something.” Without taking his eyes off yours, he addresses Law. “You better keep a good hold on this one, Law. I might steal her too.”

Law growls, his calm facade showing a few cracks before he pulls you inside so you can find your seats. There’s no chance to ask him what his uncle meant now, the room is too crowded, and there’s no telling who could be listening.

But what could he mean about stealing you too? What happened? With whom? It feels like this is something you should be privy to, especially because Doflamingo keeps hinting at something. You make a mental note not to forget to address this with Law once both of you are alone. 

The dining room is, like everything else in this house, grand and opulent, screaming wealth and fortune. Enormous chandeliers hang from the ceiling, shadowing the massive table. Beautiful china adorns it, along with vases of flowers and the most stunning silverware. It’s all so beautiful.

Law finds your seats and holds the chair for you, helping you get comfortable. He’s by your side, Sugar on your other side and Bellamy directly in front of Law. Cora sits at one end of the table, next to Law, and Doflamingo is on the other end, carefully watching every exchange with his observant gaze. 

Bellamy keeps stealing glances at you and Law’s scowl deepens even more. His hand rests on your thigh under the table, and even though no one can see it, it’s a definitive claim to you. He’s acting possessive, and it stirs something within you.

Is it all fake? 

The meal begins and everything seems to be flowing smoothly now. Baby 5 is a regular chatterbox and, being at Bellamy’s side, she alone holds the entire conversation for the majority of dinner. Every now and then, she asks you something or other about your relationship, nothing of much importance and all things you and Law have already rehearsed.

You feel a sense of peace and calmness washing away your earlier anxiety. It seems as if you were dreading this dinner for nothing. If the rest of the weekend goes as smoothly as this meal, you’ll both be perfectly fine. 

But the wine has been flowing freely. You and Law have been restrained and switched to water long ago. Neither of you wants to get drunk and ruin the pretence, but the other guests are more at ease. And that fact is quite clear when Bellamy decides to stare directly at you. His gaze unmoving and his grin wide.

You begin to shift uncomfortably in your chair, wishing for this dinner to end so you can all get up, but dessert is still being served so it will be another half-hour, at least.

Law senses your discomfort and leans into your ear, you lean towards him as well and when he speaks, his whisper tickles your ear and sends shivers down your spine. “Relax. I’ll put him in his place.” His hand reaches up as he caresses your ear and earring using your signal. “You’re mine, and I’ll let him know soon enough that I don’t share.”

The word ‘mine’ sends a different kind of shiver up your spine. One that lingers. One that burns. It travels through your veins like molten lava and settles low in your core, a thrum beating at the same unholy rhythm as your heart. 

You can only nod as Law pulls back.

Another moment passes as you receive your dessert and engage in a bit of girl talk with Sugar and Baby 5 about wedding dresses, but you can still feel the burning, lingering gaze of Bellamy upon you. It’s disconcerting.

Law places his hand on your thigh again, making sure Bellamy sees the gesture, before facing him with a sly smirk. “Bellamy,” his tone is casual, though thick with tension. “Is there something you would like to say to my girlfriend? You keep staring. It’s rude.”

The chatter around you silences as people close to you follow the exchange. Bellamy’s grin falters a bit as he shifts and adjusts his seat in the chair. He wasn’t expecting Law’s confrontational question. 

“I just like to look at pretty things, Law. Didn’t know it was a crime.” He leans back, hands in the air, to excuse his behaviour. 

Law’s smirk never falters, his touch is unwavering. His tone, however, speaks of annoyance and defiance. “Oh, I know she’s pretty. More than that, she’s stunning. But it’s not just about looking, is it, Bellamy? It’s about intent. And yours seems very, very misplaced.”

Your heart tightens in your chest as you see, from the corner of your eye, Doflamingo watching you attentively, though the rest of the table on his side is pretty oblivious to what is happening around you. 

“Come on, man, relax. Drink some more wine. Looking doesn’t do any harm.” Bellamy lets out a nervous chuckle.

“It does when you’re looking at something that doesn't belong to you. You should learn to keep your gaze away from what is mine.” He nearly growls the word.

That word again. Your breath hitches and you bite your lower lip. You can’t help but feel safe and protected near Law. A bright flush spreads through your cheeks and you take a sip of water to try and calm yourself. Law’s hand on your leg squeezes and you take a deep breath. 

Yet the fire in you burns hotter.

“Alright, alright. Geez, man, I didn’t mean any disrespect.” Bellamy adds, though his smug grin says otherwise.

“Good. We’re clear then.” Law’s gaze is unwavering and he doesn’t stop piercing his amber eyes into Bellamy’s until the blonde looks somewhere else. 

You can’t help but hear Law’s voice saying ‘mine’ over and over again in your head, just like a song on repeat. 

-*-

Finally dinner comes to an end, but it’s still far too early in the night to retire and you are all ushered by a smiling Cora to a lounge with a bar where you can have a few more drinks and let conversation flow.

After all, some guests are having fun.

Law leads you with a firm hand on your lower back, but you can feel some strain in his countenance, and you quickly understand why when one of Doflamingo’s associates beckons him over to a table. 

Law groans, facing you. “I need to take care of some business with those oafs over there.” Then he sighs as he uses the signal on your earring again. Leaning in, he presses his lips to yours, a very chaste kiss to share in public. A kiss that doesn’t fail to send tingles all over your skin and burn in more places than it should. Law whispers: “If this were real, you wouldn’t need to worry if I were away from you. I’d be imprinted so hard on your body, mind and soul, that you wouldn’t even miss me.”

His words never fail to make you shiver. The intensity with which he delivers them is so powerful that, for a brief moment, you’re fooled into thinking he actually means it. Just a brief moment, though. “I’ll be alright. We’re in the same room. What can happen that is so terrible?”

Law’s scowl is back in an instant and his gaze flickers towards Doflamingo. “Much can happen. But I won’t allow it.” Another peck and he turns his back on you to meet with the men who have already called him again.

You sigh, locate Bellamy, still gazing at you, and decide to go to the complete opposite side of the room. Luckily Baby 5 and Sugar gather near you and you manage to distract yourself with the girls. Time goes by rather fast, in contrast to what happened during dinner and in the blink of an eye, Law is back by your side. But he's still sporting that tense scowl. 

“I just came to check on you.” Baby 5 and Sugar are listening so he keeps the pretence, however, he doesn’t use the signal. “Wouldn't want you to think I've abandoned you.” 

Your smile is genuine as you grab his hands. “It's alright, Law. I'm in good hands.” He squeezes and the way he's looking at you makes something flutter in your stomach. 

You are suddenly reminded that you both discussed physical boundaries, but never emotional ones. Should you? Because this soft look he's giving you could be far more dangerous to your heart than a heated touch. 

“You guys are so cute. I wish I could just turn you into plushies and have you on my bed.” Sugar says, her eyes sparkling with emotion. 

Well that certainly cuts the emotional tension in the bud. Law rolls his eyes and you chuckle. “I'm just going to get a drink and go back there. It won't be long now, they're discussing a new merger and want to make sure everyone on the board approves.”

You sigh, your lower lip inadvertently pouting a bit. Why must he talk business at a family meeting? 

He chuckles softly, his thumb brushing against your lip. “That's cute.” He murmurs, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “See you soon.” His hand lingers on your lip before releasing with another longing sigh from you. 

You excuse yourself to go to the restroom and when you return, Baby 5 and Sugar are nowhere to be seen. They must have had some last minute wedding stuff to attend to, but now you feel oddly out of place. Law doesn't acknowledge your entry, too entangled in a heated conversation with Vergo, his expression very guarded. Something must not be going very well with the discussions. You're thirsty, so you swing by the bar - complete with a bartender - and ask for a virgin mojito, while leaning slightly on the counter to stretch your back. 

“Lovely accent, mi querida.” Doflamingo’s drawl makes your breath hitch and you turn towards his voice, a deer-in-headlights expression on your face. You look for Law, but his uncle is standing right in your line of sight and he's so big that you doubt Law knows you're there. He probably still thinks you're in the bathroom. 

“Thank you, sir.” You whisper to him, accepting the drink from the bartender with a strained smile and taking a step back. 

His grin widens, turning wicked and you take a sip of the cold drink to distract yourself from his sharp, piercing gaze. Doflamingo accepts his glass of red wine without a ‘thank you’ or any sort of acknowledgment to the bartender, his eyes never leaving you. 

“You're interesting.” He states once again. “Makes me wonder why you're in a relationship with my nephew.” His tone is inquisitive. He's probing, you have to sell this, you're prepared. You just need to forget how extremely intimidating he is. 

“I'm in a relationship with Law because we fell in love, sir. It's as simple as that.” You say, like it's the most obvious statement in the world. Then you set down your drink and grasp the counter to stop the shaking of your hands. 

He tuts and sighs dramatically. “Nothing regarding love is ever just simple.” Then he takes another step, further invading your space. “Is it?”

You stand your ground, trying not to feel intimidated. “With us it is. We want to be together. I want to be with Law.” Why are you being so defensive? Is he going to read through your act? You desperately want Law to see you, to come to you. Maybe even Cora? But Cora was also engaged in that discussion and, thinking about it, shouldn't the head of Donquixote Enterprises also be there? Why was he taunting you instead? 

“You don't know what you want yet, princesa. Trust me.” He says. His grin widens and he leans his head forward, whispering in your ear. “Law is too soft for you. His words are too gentle, his touch is too sweet.” Doffy’s breath feels hot in your ear and you want so desperately to pull back, but you don’t want to give him that advantage over you. “Law doesn’t know how to handle a woman like you. I saw how you behaved when he was acting possessive at the table. I understand you, I know what you want. And you need more than he can offer.”

Somehow his voice drops even lower, a predatory whisper that manages to bristle all the hairs on your body. “I can make you feel what it’s like to be completely owned. You’d learn quickly where you belong.” His whisper burns your skin, but the shivers running through you are as cold as ice. “Under me, or on your knees, I would bend your will with just one look. I know what you crave.”

He’s challenging you, pushing you to your limits with crass words and rude behaviour. Law told you he was inappropriate but, somehow, you didn’t expect this much. It’s terrifying, even.  

“You don’t know me.” The murmur that leaves your lips is barely heard, your voice trembles and your lip shakes, but you don’t want to be disrespectful, so you add something: “Sir.” 

His hand reaches out, and he tucks a strand of hair out of your face as he hums in satisfaction. “But I know your kind, cariño. You’re all after power. I can give you that.” You try to pull back, to step away from him and his velvety words, but he grabs your forearm, his touch commanding and domineering, making your breath hitch in your throat. “If I were with you, mi querida, I wouldn’t hesitate to bend you over the nearest surface and remind you of who you belong to. I know that’s what you most desire, to be brought to your knees with a simple look. Not to be coddled by my nephew.”

You purse your lips to suppress a gasp as his fingers dig into your skin, his grin widening into a manic smile. Your mouth opens and closes as you try to fight for air, or to find the right words. You can barely think, he scares you. He pushes you and bends you and you just don’t want to break under pressure.

You don’t have time, however, to think of a good answer because you feel a pull at your waist as a familiar safe sensation invades you and you can breathe again. “Is there something I can help you with, Uncle Doffy?”

Law’s voice is low and calm. His usually controlled demeanour takes over, however, the crease in his forehead is deep and pronounced and there’s a lingering rage underneath the surface. Doflamingo releases your arm and you wince, slipping closer to Law, moulding to the side of his body easily. 

“Not at all, Law. I was just getting acquainted with your lovely novia. There’s no need to be so possessive, is there?” He smirks as he leans back, taking a casual sip of his drink while his eyes still linger over you. 

Law’s jaw clenches and he lets out a low growl, but Doflamingo continues. 

“It’s funny,” he chuckles long and low, “it reminds me of a different time, long ago. Remember, Law? Back when you thought loyalty and love were something you could not buy?”

You’re not quite sure where Doflamingo is going with his speech, but Law’s hold on you tightens and he pulls you even closer. “That’s not important tonight, Doffy.”

“But I think it is, Law. You see, I thought I had taught you better than this. Yet it seems as if you haven’t learned. You keep seeking women who need more than you can offer. Something your soft words cannot provide. Must I teach you again what power does a firmer hand and money hold? How easy it is to make someone… change allegiances?” His eyes are menacing as he alternates between you and Law. 

You’re still very lost as to what they are referring to, yet he is getting under Law’s skin. You’ve never seen Law this discomposed. He’s almost baring his teeth at his uncle, his eyes darkening as his fingers dig deep into your waist, they will certainly bruise. 

“That’s enough, Uncle.”

“Women who seek a little power are all the same, Law.” Doflamingo’s smirk drops and he straightens up, his figure imposing as he stares at Law. “You once thought love was all it took, but all I had to do was wave a few bills. Let’s see just how long this one holds, I’m actually very interested in the challenge.” 

He speaks as if you’re not there. It’s a personal agenda he and Law have and you can almost see the tension building around them. For a sliver of a moment, Law’s mask of perfect control slips and a soft vulnerability rattles him, like he’s considering his uncle’s words. 

“Every woman has a price, Law. Whether it’s monetary, or just power and influence. I have it all.”

The way Law pulls you to him makes you wince, but you don’t pull back, it’s like they barely know you’re there. 

“Don’t compare them, Doffy.” He says your name through gritted teeth. “She and Monet are not the same.”

Monet? Who is she? Law didn’t tell you about her, though from what you can grasp of the conversation, it seems as if she was someone Law loved. And Doffy lured her away. 

How twisted.

Doflamingo leans in, his face inches away from Law’s, but he doesn’t flinch. “You know something I’ve learned, Law, is that the more I rattle you, and the more paranoid and possessive you get… the easier it becomes to steal your toys.” The manic grin on Doflamingo’s face widens before he finally falls back. He finishes his wine glass and decides to call an end to this taunting session. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Law is left staring at the spot where his uncle just stood. His face is a mix of emotions, something you’ve never witnessed before. He’s beyond rattled, he’s on the verge of losing the control he normally possesses. 

He’s still gripping you tight and it’s beginning to be unbearable, so you place your hand on his chest, trying to get him to look at you. “Law?” He doesn’t respond immediately, his throat bobbing up and down, clearly trying to regain control of his emotions. “Law you’re hurting me.” You say softly and that makes him come back.

“Sorry!” He releases you in haste, the hand that was holding you tousling his hair as he lets out a loud sigh. Then he clasps your hand in his and pulls you. “Let’s go.”

You follow him blindly. A myriad of questions burning at the back of your mind. Why does Doflamingo rattle him so much? And why is he so adamant about breaking Law? Who was Monet? What did she mean to Law? 

But mostly… is she still important to him?

|Chapter 7|

[fairyrcts]

Y/N MOODBOARDS & HEADCANONS

by fairyrcts

trashy y2k!reader

character traits - sarcastic , loud , unbothered , partyer , shopaholic , bratty , flirtatious

likes - pink , eyeliner , glitter , stars , gemstones , chunky belts , flared jeans , acrylic nails , deftones , lipgloss , sunglasses , juicy couture , prada , hello kitty , kesha , silver jewelry

hawaiian!reader

character traits - understanding , sweet , carefree , loving , sympathetic , free , cheerful

likes - surfing , seashells , digital cameras , hibiscuses , the ocean , claw clips , g-eazy , chap stick , bikinis , dragonflies

cowgirl!reader

character traits - flirty , charasmatic , confident , fierce , blunt , childish , determined

likes - cowboy boots , brunettes , embroidered jeans , zach bryan , animals , festivals , acoustic guitar , cigarettes , stamp collecting

coquette!reader

character traits - shy , positive , soft , fair , humble , relaxed , polite , sensitive

likes - ribbons , hearts , baby tees , light pink , lace , lana del rey , feminine music , smoothies , sleeping , flowers

rich girl!reader

character traits - persausive , ambitious , wealthy , hyper , arrogant , indecisive

likes - leaopard print , fur coats , skimpy dresses , magazines , purses , knee-high boots , gold , money , kim kardashian , coco chanel

academic!reader

character traits - captivating , imaginative , helpful , reliable , determined , perfectionism

likes - writing , piano intrumentals , london , museums , historical artifacts , reading , tea , rainy mornings , foreign cities

downtown girl!reader

character traits - diplomatic , caring , generous , gentle , affectionate , romantic

likes - coffee , poetry , classic english books , sweaters , cafe's , the smiths , vinyls , autumn leaves , isolation , pumpkin scents

[zzoomacroom]

Fic: If You Try Sometime, You'll Find You Get What You Need

Dreamling, Smut, 4114 Words

Tags and summary below the cut (very kinky, NSFW stuff here)

Chapters: 1/2

Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022), The Sandman (Comics)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling

Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Hob Gadling

Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Established Relationship, Dom/sub, BDSM, Light BDSM, (I guess? what constitutes "light" in this case? idk), Sex Toys, Dildos, Knotting Dildos, XL Dildos, Butt Plugs, Cock Cages, Nipple Clamps, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Coming Untouched, Humiliation, Masturbation, Double Penetration, Anal Fisting, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Blow Jobs, Face-Fucking, King of Cats More Like King of Brats, Gentle Dom Hob Gadling, (well. he's just a teensy bit mean at first but then he's gentle), Under-negotiated Kink, Miscommunication, everything is consensual but it's not exactly what Dream had in mind at first, the importance of using your words, the importance of not assuming, probably out of character but idgaf, no beta we die like hob doesn't

Summary: Dream is being really bratty and gets more than he bargained for when Hob makes him put on a little show for him.

.....

It is 7:30 in the evening. Dream has been waiting for nearly two hours, and Hob still has not returned home from work. Dream is not worried for his beloved. Yet. But he is growing impatient. And restless. All day he has been feeling on edge. Agitated. He is “in a right state,” as Hob would say. His duties have left him feeling weary and in need of...something. He cannot say quite what. He hopes that Hob will know. Hob always knows just what he needs, what he wants, often better than Dream himself does. It should be an affront—that a mere human should perceive the Lord of Dreams so clearly—but Hob loves him deeply, and Dream loves Hob with every fiber of his arcane, incomprehensible being. It is...a relief, surprisingly. To be seen and known thus, when he cannot articulate his needs himself.

He stretches out on the sofa, though he is anything but relaxed. His posture is rigid as he fidgets with the slim, black leather collar around his neck, which he sometimes dons for his rendezvous with Hob in the Waking. Beneath his usual black jeans he wears a plug, despite the fact that his body needs no preparation, inhuman as it is. In the Dreaming, it is easier to express his wishes visually, but here he prefers to signify his intentions for any given encounter with such symbolic adornments as the collar and plug, or with his body language. He does not like to verbalize whether he wishes to dominate or be dominated, or both, or neither. He finds it...gauche. To speak of such things. Fortunately, Hob has more than six hundred years of experience in deciphering Dream’s nonverbal methods of communication. Tonight, he wishes for Hob to take control. To figure out what he needs and give it to him.

Finally, mercifully, Hob walks through the front door. He beams at his lover with that brilliant, beautiful smile of his, but he looks tired. His shoulders droop slightly and his eyes, usually so rich and earthy like fertile soil, look dull and lusterless. Dream considers leaving and postponing their liaison until they are both in a better mental state, but...he needs this. He needs Hob. Now.

…

“Hey, love. Sorry I’m late—office hours ran over a bit, student was in a tizzy over their thesis, but we got it sorted. You been waiting long?” Hob makes his way over to the sofa and gathers Dream into his arms before planting a quick, almost perfunctory kiss on his cheek. “You seem tense. Everything alright?”

“I am not tense, Hob Gadling,” his lover retorts haughtily. “I simply do not like to be kept waiting.”

Hob raises his eyebrows pointedly. “Oh no, of course not. That sounds terrible,” he replies sardonically. “My my, it seems someone’s in a mood tonight.” He hooks a finger under Dream’s collar and pulls him in for a proper kiss. Dream allows it, but gives Hob a sullen pout from under his eyelashes after they part. Well, if he’s going to be a brat, maybe some more waiting will actually do him good.

“But unfortunately,” Hob continues with a heavy sigh, “you’ll have to wait just a bit longer. I have a few emails to respond to, and I can’t put them off any longer. Won’t take but a minute.”

Dream lets out an annoyed huff. “I would prefer that you fuck me now.” He snakes a slender, white hand down to Hob’s lap and fondles his half-hard cock through his slacks.

“Not yet, darling,” Hob responds sternly, eliciting a shiver of excitement from Dream. “You can be patient for a little while longer. If you need to be fucked so bad, go ride one of your toys until I’m ready for you. If it pleases your majesty, that is,” he adds with a wicked smirk.

“Very well. If you insist,” Dream says loftily. He begins to rise from the sofa, but Hob stops him with a firm grasp on his shoulder.

“Wait,” Hob commands, and Dream obediently sits back down. “There’s a good lad. Can I trust you not to come, or do you need the cage?”

Dream glares daggers at him. “I do not need the cage, Hob,” he sneers. “I have complete control over my physical form, unlike yourself.” Oh, so it’s going to be like that. He’s angling for a punishment tonight.

“Fine,” Hob replies coolly. “But you’ll have to do it where I can see you, because we both know you can’t be trusted.”

He knows that Dream can make himself come with a mere thought, even with the cock cage, but he also knows that putting on such a display for Hob will send him over the edge, regardless of his alleged ‘control over his physical form.’ Luckily, this is no bother given Dream’s nonexistent refractory period, and Hob is curious whether he can succeed in taking his lover apart before he even gets his hands on him.

…

Hob makes tea for the both of them, then retreats to the bedroom to change out of his work clothes. He emerges minutes later in a faded Rolling Stones t-shirt and gray sweatpants that do nothing to hide his obvious arousal. He plants himself on the sofa with a weary groan and picks up his laptop, glancing expectantly at Dream over the top of the screen.

Dream, meanwhile, has commandeered the space between the coffee table and the fireplace. He has sent his coat, t-shirt, and jeans back to the unformed dreamstuff from whence they came, and in their stead he wears nothing but a pair of black, thigh-high stockings, held in place by studded leather garters that match his collar. He knows that these are a favorite of Hob’s, and if he won’t give him what he wants, then Dream will just have to distract him. If he is too aroused to focus on his work, perhaps he will bend Dream over the sofa and have his way with him sooner rather than later.

He stands before Hob, legs spread and cock already hard, gazing intently at his beloved. Suctioned to the floor at his feet is a large, beautifully-crafted dildo taken from the dreams of a Japanese fetish model. It is black and glittering, with curves, bumps, and swirls that do not resemble any penis found in the waking world. Dream reaches between his legs, not breaking eye contact for a second, and removes the sizable, tapered plug from his hole, tossing it carelessly to the floor.

Hob’s eyes widen and his breath hitches, and Dream smirks smugly as he crouches and lowers himself down onto the dildo in one fluid motion. Once he is fully seated, he lets out a contented moan and rolls his hips tantalizingly slowly before beginning to ride the toy in earnest.

Continue reading on ao3:

[artzychic27]

Okay how about some redeem Chloé and Science Kids headcanons?

Jean: Lacey, my slapping glove, please?

Lacey: *Hands them a purple glove* Here you are.

Jean: Thank you... *Slaps Chloé across the face with his glove* Good, I have your attention. You! Need! Some! Self! Respect! Girl! Enough of the bratty rich girl routine! It’s not a personality! You’re just copying your bitch mom!

Chloé: I-

Denise: We’re not done, here. Now, you’re gonna attend a nice long therapy session with us. It’s we go to vent about a few of your classmates, mostly Marinette, and then pretend the cranberry juice is wine to forget our troubles… We drink a lot of cranberry juice.

Chloé ends up venting A LOT at group therapy, going into detail about her disdain for her egg donor, how she wants to be more independent but doesn’t know how, how she loathes Marinette for doing horrible things yet getting off scot free, and how she wants a descent friendship with Adrien but Marinette and the girl squad keep preventing that

Simon: Oh, now that’s just harsh.

Denise: You’re trying to be good, aren’t you?

Chloé: I am, but they don’t believe me. They only give me a chance when Marinette convinces them!

Marc: That’s kinda… Bitchy.

Chloé: I know!

Later, they start inviting Chloé to group sleepovers, which she discovers Nathaniel is a part of as well

Chloé apologizes for getting him Akumatized, and to her surprise, he forgives her and even says how the Science Kids talked him through how that drawing of Marinette was kind of creepy

Chloé: Well, you’re WAY less of a creep than her.

Nathaniel: Beg your pardon?

Chloé doesn’t leave anything out when she tells Nathaniel all the things city workers have told her about the times some blue haired girl tried to scale the walls of the Agreste mansion

Now she, Zoé, and Nathaniel have a betting system where they bet how Marinette will stalk Adrien this week

Nathaniel usually wins all of them

Chloé even begins taking shelter with him and the Science Kids during Akuma attacks and discovers that it’s kinda nice being in a group instead of running around like a nut job

It doesn’t take long for the Akuma Class to notice how close they are, and Marinette pulls Nathaniel aside to talk guiltrip him into stop hanging out with Chloè

But, hanging around Jean and Chloé have helped his confidence, so he shuts that down quickly

They gossip with Jean, Zoé, and surprisingly Mireille about everyone at school. Turns out, M. Grotke has a crush on M. Monlataing

Zoé helps change up her style to something less… Audrey

Now Chloé’s got her hair down, she’s wearing descent makeup, a yellow crop top, white wide leg pants, and a comfortable pair of sneakers the Science Kids and Nathaniel all draw on

Chloé finally gets a minute alone with Adrien and tells him upfront she’s been working on changing herself for the better and hopes that they can be friends again

Adrien gives her a chance and even invites her to get some frozen yogurt after school. Yay!

Of course, the Science Kids are proud and immediately group hug her the next day while ignoring the scowl on Marinette’s face

Marinette finally confronts them as to why they’re suddenly friendly with Chloé after everything she’s done to her

Jean: … Uh, she got me Akumatized, ya know. And, we’re cool now.

Denise: She called me ‘Meathead’ for five years. I’m over it.

Lacey: No sweat up my ass.

Marc: You’re not the only person she’s hurt. Besides, we can be friends with whoever we want.

Ismael: Yeah, as long as she ain’t a TERF, she’s cool. Plus, she knows how to skateboard, and that is something I was not expecting.

Aurore: I’m cool with her.

Zoé: Who else will I vent to about that bitch who married the mayor for status like some common gold digger?

Mireille: You mean your mom?

Zoé: Same difference.

[thatbanditqueen]

The Lou Lou Special

An Elvis Presley One Shot

A response to the writing game prompt: “Do you mind? I came in here to get away from other people.”

Warnings: kissing, fluff, Texas? some historical inaccuracies. All the typos. I literally just finished writing this. It is perhaps the fluffiest and most innocent thing I have ever written.

Summary: Lois is away from home, visiting her family in Texas, when her cousins abandon her after an Elvis Presley concert.

7:15 PM, Thursday, June 16, 1955

Midland High School, Midland, Texas

The sun was setting off in the distance, and the warm, rich golden oranges, yellows and pinks of the dusk sky almost made the oil rig silhouettes look beautiful. Even so, Lois wished she was back in Pasadena, getting a malt in Old Town with Jean and Ruby, perhaps talking with some of the older boys from her high school. Or sitting back giggling with Jean as as Ruby flirted and tried to get someone to buy her fries. It had only been three days since she’d been shipped off to Texas, but she was already homesick. She sighed. Right now, Lois would even settle for a night taking her bratty, unbearable her 8-year old brother Ritchie out to a movie. Anything to not be here, stuck with her cousins, a living tribute from her parents to kiss up to Zeyde. Nate’s snickering brought her back to the present, and Lois pressed her hands into the cold brick ledge and turned around to look at her cousin.

Nate sipped from his flask, and handed it to his friend, what was his name, Ralph? Nate’s sister Sharon lit a cigarette and blew her smoke to the side, her dark red lipstick smudged the tip. It reminded Lois how simple her own make up had been, she touched her purse and pulled out her light pink tinted lip pomade, reapplying it with her finger.

“Want some?” Sharon asked, a sneer in her voice as her cigarette ash fell down onto the concrete floor. She thinks she’s so cool and sophisticated now that she’s graduated from high school. Lois was now the only student among the group, Nate worked for Zeyde, and Ralph did something for an oil company. The boys had been in the same grade, and Ralph was much closer to her cousins than she was.

Lois shook her head, and looked back out over the ledge, this time down to the front of the high school, watching groups of other young people, and some of their parents, walking into the entrance below.

Ralph took another swig of the flask and thumped it in Nathan’s chest. He looked at Lois and Sharon, then back at Nate. “We should do down, I wanna get to the front where we can dance with some of the girls.”

With that, Nate led the way off the rooftop and down the stairs to the back of the high school.

Nate’s voice echoed as he called out in the stair. “Dance? Who’s the cat we’re seeing tonight anyhow?”

Ralph bounced to the bottom stair. “Elvis Presley, he’s on the Hayride radio show, but I saw him in Houston with my brother. He’s wild. I bought all his records.”

“Never heard of him,” Lois whispered.

“Don’ you listen to the Lousiana Hayride out there in San Diego?

Lois shook her head, and whispered, “It’s LA actually.”

“What was that?” Ralph asked, but Nate hit him on the shoulder as they turned the corner.

“Don’t pay any attention to her, she doesn’t know anything, she’s barely 16.”

Lois sucked in her tummy, and hung back, trailing behind them while they wound their way through the high school hallways, encountering more and more people as they closed in on the auditorium. Ralph, Sharon and Nate fell in with some friends they recognized, and Lois trailed further behind, listening to them excitedly talk about their summer plans. One girl asked Sharon when she was moving to Austin for college and Lois tuned out Sharon’s exuberant gush about her dorm and her roommate and the new Cadillac convertible Zeyde had bought her. What a brat, if Zeyde knew what you said about him behind his back he’d give you a slap in the face stead of a new car, Lois smiled to herself.  She toyed with the idea of slipping away and seeing if they noticed as the group got farther and farther ahead of her. Several other kids now walked between her and her cousins who had made their way to the front. Lois decided to just hang back and stay, she had no plan for how to get back to the house if she snuck away. So she meandered to a clear spot against the wall, pushed a lock of her dark, brown hair behind her ear and leaned back, picking at her finger nails and scanning across the dark room.Uh. Three more weeks here. I guess I should be happy I got off the ranch tonight, she told herself, thinking of Bubbie back at the main house, probably knitting on the porch or bossing some of the servants around.

The lights dimmed, and the crowd went quiet. Looking around, Lois realized that all the seats were filled, and there must have been fifty people so lined up along the walls, more in the back. I guess this Melvis guy must be popular here in Texas.

A bright light appeared in the center of the stage, and Lois noticed the big bass and drums already set up. A man in a bright silver dinner jacket and suit pants ran out onto the stage to take the mic, and the crowd cheered.

“HeyyyOOO there all you Midlander chicks and chucks! It’s me, Moon Mullican, that handsome rascal who sneaks into your bedroom every night…… on KCEK, that is! Don’t pout, don’t be a lout, daddy’s here and the night is clear for us to have some fun. So stick with me, chickadee, we’re gonna have a party!”

Lois, shook her head to herself, he sounded just as bombastic in his sing songy bantering voice as the radio DJs back home, except with a slight Texas twang. The same twang her mama had been trying to rid herself over the last twenty years in the California sunshine.

Moon’s voice rang out again, and the cheering died down.

“I know he needs no introduction, this boy’s records have been skyrocketing right up the charts. He’s only twenty years old, and has a new distinct musical style. An’ I see all the little gals out there are all ready to scream and shout, with out a doubt, so let’s give a warm Texas welcome to that Hillbilly Cat, that Memphis Flash, ELLLvezzzzzz Presley y’alll!!”

A tall, young man ran out from the wings with a big grin on his face, and Lois gasped at his see-through white lace shirt, tucked into a pair of white dress pants with a silk, pink strip down the side. A guitar hung down at his left hand, and he hit Moon on the shoulder, shaking his hand, then turning to smile at the guys filling out the band behind him. Putting the microphone back into the stand, Elvis slapped his guitar and leaned forward, stuttering and tapping his right foot. He exuded a nervous, excited energy, and his voice was low and deep as it cracked.

“He - he - he - hey y’all, How are ya?” he asked the crowd, and they called back with whoops and claps and cheers. “It’s a real honor to be back here in oil country and play for ya folks. A real honor. I always say, Texas people are, are, the bestest people, an y’all make us feel welcomed an right at home and we wanna thank ya.” He smiled as some of the kids cheered and clapped and called out his name. One girl at the back called out “I love you Elvis.” He smiled into his guitar, responding with a smirk. “I - I love ya too, honey. Well, y’all paid for a show, and that’s what we’re fixin ta give ya. So, well, this un was a single that came out last year on Sun Records. Maybe ya heard and if not, well, it goes sumpin’ like this.” Elvis began to strum his guitar, he closed his eyes, and burst in to the loud opening mewl of “Good Rockin’ Tonight.”

The auditorium filled with the band’s music, and the audience began to stand up in their seats. Almost everyone standing near the wall rushed to the front and began dancing and bouncing up and down. The energetic, country picking of the guitar and the fierce urgency of Elvis’ voice grabbed Lois and she found her feet pulling her forward, mesmerized by the way Elvis moved and sang. He was a man possessed as he swung back and forth, playing guitar as his knees seemingly had a life all their own, jerking and squirming their way across the stage. She found her own feet moving side to side, and relished the feeling of crinoline swishing over her thighs under her dark blue navy skirt. Her cousins and Ralph had ended up in the middle of the crowd dancing at the front of the auditorium, and Lois made herself at home, alone, comforted at least being able to see them from a distance from where she was at the right side of the stage. Closing her eyes, Lois let her self move and twist to the music, then smiled awkwardly at the two girls near her when the song finished.

Lois looked up at the stage, noticing how Elvis clutched the guitar close to him, tightly, as he began to sing “That’s All Right Mama.” During the guitar solo, which the skinny little man in back played, Elvis staggered over to where Lois stood and she moved to lean up towards him against the stage, entranced and unable to stop herself from the gravitational pull of his quirking smile. He bite his lip, and locked eyes with her, muttering a low “How you doin’ tonight, darlin?” from the stage. The air hitched in Lois’ throat as she laughed nervously and breathed a “good” up to him in reply. Elvis winked, then moved back to the mic and finished the song, pulling his hand through his hair and looking back at Lois with a wide, beaming grin. The girls behind her squealed, and told her that they couldn’t believe how lucky she was. Lois didn’t hear them. She was transfixed, and let her self go, bouncing up and down as the band continued to play song after song, “Blue Moon of Kentucky,” “Heartbreaker,” “Baby, Let’s Play House.” Lois had never seen anyone like Elvis, his legs were spread out wide, he swiveled his knees and thrust his hips up into his guitar, and the girls next to Lois screeched when he swaggered near them, reaching out to try and touch his white hush puppy shoes.

 Elvis began to strum his guitar and then stopped to speak into the microphone.

“Hold it now, fellas, let’s get real, real gone with this one.”

Smirking, he started playing the guitar again, singing  “Milk Cow Blues,” and shouting out “Let’s Milk it,” as the lead guitar player began his solo and Elvis began to swing and wiggle vigorously across the stage. After the solo, Elvis held his guitar aside so he could yank up his belt, laughing at himself and how his shirt was coming out of his pants. Lois blushed, as she caught herself staring at his groin. As if sensing her eyes on him, Elvis looked up at her, and grinned, walking back to the mic to finish singing.

Elvis thanked the audience after that song, and Lois leaned harder against the stage, watching as he wiped the sweat from his face and into his quiffed pompadour. Elvis and the band walked off the stage, and he shot her a kiss as he walked off. Lois stood there, giddy, her whole body felt charged with an electric fire. She steadied herself, catching her breath for a few minutes, then turned around to watch the audience slowly filter out of the back. Lois’ heart started to race when she realized she had lost sight of her cousins, they had not hung back like she thought they would. She started to slowly pace around the side, looking for their faces in the crowd, before quickly walking outside gasping as she saw Sharon’s new convertible pulling off from the parking lot. Lois blood began to beat in her ear drums, and she walked back in, looking around the auditorium for any face she might recognize from previous visits to Texas. Or a kind smile she could trust. She got back up to the front of the empty room and suddenly felt very frightened and abandoned and alone and could feel the tears welling up behind her eyes, so she ran out of the side door and into a nearby stairwell where she sat down and let it all out.

“Ughh, I hate Texas. And I hate Nate. And I hate Sharon and her stupid new car.” Lois stammered to herself through the tears. Then she heard the door to the stairwell crack, and yelled over her shoulder.

“Do you mind? I came here to get away from other people.” Lois wiped her eyes, and turned around to see the singer, Elvis, standing in the doorway behind her.

“Well, hi ta y—you, too, baby.” he smiled, and walked over before plopping down next to her. “Jus loading up the car, and I thought a cat was dying in here. Came to save its life.” He put his arm around her, instantly familiar, and squeezed her waist. His thumb rubbed up and down to soothe her. Lois had never been this close to a boy before, and she trembled at his touch but didn’t pull away. “Hey, sssh, ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

She turned to look up at him, a soft chuckle escaped her mouth as she said, “I know, I’m not scared of you.”

“Huh, well, ok then, fearless wonder. Tell me why you’re in here crying, hate to see pretty girls cry.”

Lois leaned into his shoulder, embarrassed. “Ughh, I got left here and I don’t know what to do.”

Elvis patted the top of her hair. “Yeah, I saw you from the stage, looked like you were all alone through the show. Ain’t ya folks coming to pick ya up?”

“Nuh uh, I came with my cousins. They didn’t want to be near me during the show, I guess I cramp their style, then they left afterwards without me. Sorta a practical joke, I suppose.”

“Well, c’mon, let’s go find a phone and get you daddy to come getcha.” Elvis stood and Lois pulled herself up on his outstretched hand. His face still gleamed with a slight sheen of sweat in the dim glare of the stairwell, and his hair had a glossy radiance to it. She leaned on him for balance, and he put his hand on her waist as she adjusted herself. A blush crept up her cheeks, and Elvis’ lips quirked.”What’s your name, lil’ gal?”

“Lois. Lois Stern.”

Elvis spoke slowly, and softly, stepping back and talking her hand to walk out of the stairwell. “Well, alright then, lil’ Lois, let’s go call ya dad.”

Lois gasped as he walked her in to the hallway. “That’s just the thing, I’m visiting from Los Angeles, and, and, I don’t know my grandparent’s number, or my aunt and uncle’s…”

Elvis stopped for a minute. “Hmm, know where they live?”

“Not the street, but… they live at Quien Sabe Ranch, people round here might know where that is.”

Elvis stopped to think. “K, this is what we gonna do.” His voice was low and playful. “I gotta take the boys back to our motel, then I’ll drive ya home. Sound good?”

Lois nodded, she couldn’t help the dizzy feeling of relief and excitement and attraction that radiated from her face, and Elvis chuckled as he pulled her into his side and walked her out the back door.

\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*

Dipping her french fry in her strawberry shake, Lois looked up to see Elvis’ horrified expression. She giggled.

“What? Never seen someone mix savor and sweet before? It’s delicious, you should try.” She reached across the table with her half eaten fry, and giggled more at his scowl.

“Uh uh. No thankee. No ma’am. These are potatoes and this is a shake. Sometimes they mix in my mouf, but uh, somethin about dippin it in.” He shook his head. “Nope, just don’t sit right with me.”

“C’mon, I promise you’ll like it.”

Elvis shrugged and sat up, and smiling. “Ugh, alright, can’t say know to you, lil’ Lou Lou.”

Then opened his mouth, and Lois fed him the rest of her strawberry milkshake covered fry. He sucked back up over her finger with a devilish glare, and Lois laughed, pulled her finger out of his mouth,

“Ya right.” He said licking his lips. “S’good. S’perfect. Huh, shudda known, the lil’ Lou Lou special would taste just… mhmmm.” He grunted.

Lois chuckled uncontrollably. Then stopped when she noticed an older couple at a booth down the restaurant looking over at them with disdain, and then whispering to each other. She looked back at Elvis, his lace shirt, eye liner and greased back hair made him somewhat of a spectacle in Midland, Texas. Lois slid her left saddle shoe along the inside of his hush puppy, her knee grazing his slightly. It was the second most forward thing she had ever done. The first being getting in his car with him and three men, dropping them off at a hotel, and then riding alone with him to grab something to eat before he drove her home. Elvis leaned his knee back into hers, arching his left eyebrow up.

“Mhmmmm?”

She nodded her chin at the booth behind him. He turned his head to look as she said, “I think you got some fans?” The couple scowled and looked away when Elvis waved at them.

“Aw, they just sore I got a fancier shirt then them.” He took a big bite of burger. “Sow, whads yoar sthorry, darglin?” he asked, mouth full of food and eyes full of mischief.

The door bell rang behind her, and more people came into the diner. Lois didn’t notice. She breathed deep, savoring the spectaclar turn of events, the sweetness of the strawberry shake, the warmth of Elvis legs as they slide tighter on either side of hers and she breathed in with a smile, feeling her blush return.

“Hmmm, well, I’m 16, I love in Pasadena, California, and I’m stuck here in the middle of nowhere Midland Texas for three weeks.” She sipped her shake. “My mom grew up here, met my father in Houston, and he took her back out to Pasadena where he’s from, and that’s where I live with my kid brother. But my grandfather, well, my mom says if I want to go to college or have a wedding, Zeyde’s the one who’d pay for it, so its my job to come visit and make nice.”

Elvis hand moved over Lois’ knee, rubbing the top.

“Hmm, zeyde, you Jewish?” Lois nodded. “Ya know, my neighbors back home in Memphis are Jews, or they were, ‘bout half ma friends are. They taught me yid-a-yish, ya know.”

“Hmmm.” Lois flipped her hair to the side, tucking her dark curls behind her ear. “I hope they taught you yiddish, too, might come in handy if you ever play Brooklyn, or LA for that matter.”

Elvis squeezed her hand. “I know ya aint makin’ fun of the way I talk, are ya Lois?” Then moved his fingers down to pinch her knee.

Lois squealed, inviting another sharp look from the other couple at the back.

“No, no no. I swear, I didn’t mean it,” she yelped as he ticked her leg, she almost fell over giggling when he stopped.

“Whoweee,” Elvis exclaimed, catching his breath from laughing. His eyes locked with Lois’ and his expression became more serious. “Whoweeee… hmmm. Ya got a boyfriend out there, back in Passsa -a -dena?”

Lois shook her head, sucking up the last of her shake.

“Ever had one?”

She shook her head again, looking down.

“Ever been kissed?” his voice cracked as it hit a higher register.

Another head shake. “Nope, I’m preparing for life as an old maid. Weighing my options, librarian or school marm?” Lois smoothed down her white blouse, straightening the dragonfly broach above her breast. The light glinted off of the rhinestones in it and she looked back at Elvis. He pursed his lips, his hand now moved under her skirt and over her bare her knee slowly, firmly, insistently.

“Mhmmmm, I think you could probably do whatever ya set ya mind to. But I promise ya, you’re too pretty to be a spinster, Lou Lou. Mhmmm. Someone’s liable to grab ya up, when you least expect it. I bet you’ll be married ‘fore you’re twenty. If that’s what ya want.” He squeezed her knee. “Right, let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

Elvis’ pink Cadillac Fleetwood drove up the road, passing the large metal sign with Quien Sabe Ranch hollowed out. He had stopped at a gas station to get directions, thankfully the property was a well-known local landmark, and once they had got to a certain point, Lois had been able to help with directions. His arm tightened around her shoulder, and she rubbed her head into his arm,  hating the prospect of leaving the warmth of his touch, the delicious feeling of being enclosed in him completely.The large house at the center of the property was aglow, and little lights twinkled from the other houses and buildings around the compound. A small pond sat beside the big house, and Elvis pulled next to the tree there, about twenty yards from her grand parents front door.

“You didn’t tell me you lived in a manshun.” Elvis finger traced along the top of her arm.

Lois turned into him, her mouth next to his ear as she whispered. “I don’t. I live in a small, three bedroom house in California. Think you’ll ever come out that way?”

Elvis pulled her into him. “Hell yes. You know.” He drew back from her, turning to look into her big brown eyes, his large fingers feathered over her forehead, and his face lit up with tender excitement. “You should start a fan club. I don’t have one there yet. Start a fan club for me, out in Los Angle - les, mhmm?”

Lois looked up in to his eyes, the earnest emotion she saw there was so intense she immediately acquiesced, shaking her head. “Yes, of course, gosh. Me?”

Elvis smiled. “You’re swell, you know that? And pretty.” His fingers trailed down to Lois’ waist, it felt like the whole side of her body fit into his large hand as she pushed into it.

“I bet you say that to all the girls”

Elvis leaned in closer, his nose hovered above hers.

“Nope. Only tha pretty ones.”

His hand moved up, and his thumb slid over her torso, coming to notch right below her breast. Lois exhaled slowly.

“Can I kiss you, Lois?”

She answered by leaning up, and kissing him first. Smooshing her lips fervently, awkwardly, roughly onto his. Her arms snaked around his neck as Elvis smacked off, laughing, both hands at her waist.

“Whooooa, whoooo.” he leaned in, and softly kissed Lois’ cheek. “Slow down, baby, slow down. This ain’t the Kentucky Derby.”

Lois giggled, then moaned as he kissed her neck and peppered a trail of soft kisses from her jaw to her mouth. She moved, slowly, with the rhythm of his body as he kissed her again on her lips, this time pushing his tongue into her mouth, and grinning as she jerked back, wiping her mouth with surprise and catching her breath.

“S’called a French kiss.” Elvis announced, rubbing her arm.

Lois grinned. “You know, I’ve never been kissed before. I …” she smiled sheepishly. “I think this is the best night of my life.

Elvis smirked, and squeezed her shoulder.

“Tell me your number baby, I’ll call you when I come out to California.”

“Do you have something to write it down with?”

Elvis pointed to his head. “Nu uh, this is all I need, just tell me your number. C’mon now, I gotta get back, heading on to Abilene early. Reckon the boys already put an ABP out for me”  He cupped his hand over his mouth, as if talking into a police radio. “Look for a young gal, dark, dangerous, pretty as heck—”

Lois slapped his shoulder. “Ok, ok, ok. My number is FA 3- 2780, that’s FA for Fairoaks, 3- 2780.”

Elvis bent over and kissed her cheek, then leaned across her lap to pull her door open. “Alright Lou Lou, FA 3 - 2780, got.” He grinned, as she got out of the car and turned around to see his eyes following her as she walked up to the house and went inside the door. A low whistle came out of the car as she swished her hips a little more and she grinned into herself. Later that night, after explaining most of what happened to her grandparents in thebroadest, vaguest terms possible, Lois would go on to collapse upstairs on her bed, and spend the night replaying her time with Elvis, trying to conjure up the feeling of his arm around her and his lips on her mouth.

8:35 PM, Sunday March 25, 1956

The Stern Household, Pasadena, CA

The sound of her mother answering the phone stirred Lois from her homework, and she stared ahead at the TV.

“C’mon Ritchie, put the Ed Sullivan Show, huh?”

Her brother turned and stuck his tongue out at her.

“Thought you were doing homework, four eyes.” He laughed, nodding at her new glasses.

Ugh, glasses, an annoying brother, I really will die a spinster.

Just then, her mother leaned into the living room from the hallway.

“Lois? There’s a young man on the phone for you. He said his name is Elvis Presley….” Lois jumped up off the couch with a shriek. Marjorie Stern looked with alarm at her daughter as she dashed for the telephone. “Wait… that name sounds familiar, is he in your class?”

Lois grabbed the phone, waving her mom away.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Lou Lou? That you? Where you been, I've been calling you all day. I just got to Los Angle - less. When can I pick ya up? Been hankering for that Lou Lou special. Ya know, something sweet and savory mixed ta gether.”

taglist: @whositmcwhatsit​ @ellie-24​ @missmaywemeetagain​ @be-my-ally​ @vintageshanny​ @from-memphis-with-love​

[shiftingwithmars]

I feel like there isn’t enough representation for “normal” Rick kids in media. They’re always either super snobby, braggy and rude or they completely hate being rich and they deny it with their whole being. But I want to see more of the kids who accept it. They know that they’re rich, but they don’t brag. They know that not everyone is as fortunate as them, and they make sure that their friends never feel like less just because of their money situation. I wanna see them wear baggy jeans one day and then a skirt the next. I wanna see them wearing expensive ass earrings with a necklace made out of bottle caps that they collected. I wanna see them giving the poor kid money everyday for lunch. I wanna see them telling off the bratty rich kids. I want to see them accept their fortune but choose not to let it affect who they are as a person.

[ebaylee422]

Back to the Beginning Newby

Billy Hargrove X Newby!Reader

Author’s Note: I just love my Newby!Reader X Billy stuff in my drafts but it’s a very sad storyline so here’s a fluffy first meeting etc. Enjoy!

Word Count

Sitting at the counter by yourself poking at the pancakes I ordered, Melody comes over to fill the cup of coffee.

“Don’t be so upset babycakes, he’s the one missing out. Besides, you have your whole life to be mad, angry, or sad about things like men.”

“I know, I’m just upset because he didn’t even try to cancel or contact me. Which is honestly a dick move, I’d rather him come and then be like ‘maybe we should just be friends.’ Or ‘I actually don’t want to go out with you.’ Instead I’m left wondering if he’s dead or under some slut.” Melody looked at the front door chime, her eyes blowing wide. I furrowed my brow at her change when a man came in. Sitting a single seat away to my right at the counter.

“Well keep nursing those pancakes baby, I’ll be right back.” She set the coffee pot down, taking my long discarded menu to the man I didn’t recognize. He couldn’t be much older, wearing brown leather with an orange button down tucked into his way too tight jeans. They showed off all of his ass- assets, he had a fluffy head of dirty blonde curls in a mullet style. His pants were cuffed at the bottom to show off his laced up pristine vans. He gave Melody an irresistible smile, the earring in his left ear swaying when he motioned to me. Winking at her, Melody left to put his order on the cook line. When he chuckled I realized I was completely staring and tried to find something to occupy my gaze. I turned to the cup of coffee Melody just poured, bringing it up to my lips while also burning my tongue in the process of said sip.

“Let me guess you had a pretty shit day too?” the guy asked, pointing to the various untouched items Melody kept bringing to cheer me up.

“Yeah. I’ve definitely had worse though. You?”

“Oh yeah, you mind?” he pointed to the clean coffee cup in front of my seat, I shook my head. And he slid into the seat directly next to me reaching to pour himself a cup of coffee. Using his left hand he just barely knocked into my elbow resting on the counter.

“What was yours?” I asked abruptly, his eyebrow raised in an unasked question. “Sorry, I mean why was yours such a shit day?” I stuttered looking forward behind the counter, caressing the warm ceramic of the coffee mug.

“Well let’s see. I have an asshole Dad.” He rose his pointer finger

“With an neglectful borderline alcoholic Step-Mother who moved us here to be closer to stupid relatives.” Raising his middle finger to accompany, “Her bratty daughter who I’m responsible for. So kinda a neat little package of bullshit.”

“Hmm, can’t relate. Mine’s just guy trouble, which is laughable I know. Where’d you move from?” I turned to see his face, taking in each detail. There was slight discoloration on the left side of his face, his dark lashes were a heightened contrast to the beautiful rich blue of his irises. A clump of loose curls cascaded on his forehead, moving with as much grace as the earring.

“California, yeah I can’t relate to guy troubles.” He laughed while sipping his coffee, the heat of the liquid on his plump lips made the skin redder with each sip.

“Well you got Daddy issues, Mother still in the picture?” I asked brashly, his jaw clenched as he sigh through his nose.

“No, I don’t really like to talk about her actually. Ever.” he said with a familiar discomfort, I’d grown to know all too well.

“Now that I can relate to, when my mom passed away it’s like she never existed. Wiped clean from this earth from her friends and nonexistent extended family.”  

“Hmm, well mine just decided to leave me one day. No responsibility to harbor a free life, away from being a Hargrove.”

“Leaving you to deal with your asshole of a father? That’s a shit deal.”

“Yeah tell me about it,” Melody came with a plate of pancakes and silverware, setting it down in front of him. His shoulders relaxed when he spoke, “Thank you-, Melody.” he squinted taking in the name tag, and she nodded back smiling appreciatively. Taking a cold plate away from my mountain of food, she made distinctive eye contact and winked. Darting her eyes back and forth to the space unoccupied between me and the stranger. She turned around, switching our nearly empty pot of coffee with a fresh one. Then going around to bus tables the diner, it was getting pretty late. We were two of the only stragglers left. “Better me I guess, than Susan or Max. It’s not okay to beat women just because you have a dick between your legs.” I choked slightly on my swallow of coffee, looking at him in horror.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m surprised you didn’t notice with all that staring you were doing when I first sat down.” Turning to face his body towards me, he pointed to a small cut on his lip as well as the slight discoloration high on his cheekbone, the same side.

“People have accidents everyday, it’s not fair to assume…” Unsure if its proper to ask about how it happened, I asked a slightly different question. “Susan and Max? The Neglectful and The Brat?” he nodded yes, with a bite of pancakes in his mouth. His teeth were pearly white, laying straight in his mouth when he’d open wide for a new mouth full of late night pancakes.

“Yes, and the guy? Or guys, plural if you’re that type of lady.” He elbow knocked into mine as he ate, he was left handed.

“Tyler Carver, graduated last year golden boy from a family of accomplished athletes. Told me to meet him at an Indiana Jones showing tonight, never showed up. So I came here and got my own dinner. Honestly the better option I suppose. I’ve also never been that lady.”

“Well I can’t imagine why the asshole would ditch you, we’re holding such an enriching conversation. He’s losing out on a smart and beautiful date.”

“This is embarrassing but it was actually going to be my first date, like ever. That isn’t some weird force proximity thing.” I laugh nervously pushing the half eaten plate and cup away, shaking my head. My head is still reeling from being ditched, embarrassed and played by a complete stranger.

“Well Doll, you could count this if you’d like. Plus no one is an accomplished athlete if they are settled in no where Indiana.” he smirked, eye lighting up as he finished the contents of his plate. Tossing the fork in the center and placing it under mine.

“I don’t even know your name. You could be ‘the night stalker’ for all I know, California. Especially since Hawkins is small and I’ve met everyone at least once.”

“It adds to the suspense, Doll. But could I level with you?” I nod in agreement then tilt my head in a confused response. He leans in closer, brushing the hair off my shoulder to whisper at my ear. “If Tyler didn’t immediately notice the perfectly sculpted woman you are, that’s forever going to be his loss.” My breath hitches and he leaned back to maintain eye contact. “Besides, most of the time assholes like him. The only thing they want to do in a movie theater, isn’t really your speed I think.”

“What do you mean?” I asked naively, my nose brushing the side of his cheek.

“You know, a gorgeous girl. In a space with lots of noise, darkness and the thrill of getting caught.” Suddenly the realization hit suddenly like a ton of bricks, this must have been some weird orchestrated joke at my expense. I pulled back vigorously, shaking the tension from my frame, blush rising to color the tips of my ears. Covering my face with my hands, embarrassed at the possibility of what Tyler’s true intentions were.

“I’m so stupid. Some random dude I’ve known for like 30 minutes saw through the jerk before I could.”

“Yeah well, I sometimes am the jerk. It takes one to know one.”

“Well clearly I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference, but if I’m also being honest this interaction is more relaxing than even being around my acclaimed best friend.”

“You’ve been honest this whole time, and maybe you should find some new friends.” he huffed in a laugh, smiling at me again, “I’m sure there’s more potential here than just relaxing, huh?” motioning to himself, I tried to find the response in his eyes. They are a fountain of blue hues swimming to meet at the dark irises of his entrancing eyes. They stare into my most vulnerable parts, he’s not just looking, he’s studying. Mapping out each feature as I did, stopping their assault on my lips. Gaping as if they could disappear at any moment, leaning in closer to them like a moth to a flame. “Doll what do you say, we-” he asked, sliding his hand from his own thigh to lightly squeeze my knee.

“I don’t know your name…” I whisper, trying to find a voice within his proximity.  

“I’m sure you can come up with one, or more if you like.” He smiled, though his eyes never lost their contact with my lips.

“You're just a tease, but two must play for it to be a game. Do you have a favorite color?” I smirked. Gaining courage again, changing the subject not moving from his close proximity.

“Red or sometimes blue like my car.”

“I like green, my car is also blue. How funny.” I swallowed hard as he started to rub circles along my knee. I wonder how his hands would feel rubbing other places. Feeling the pit in my stomach grow as he watch every movement. Like a apex predator and the un-knowing prey. Knowing exactly how to dance and the effect he was having. His hand was rough, kindly calloused fingers nipping at the rip in my jeans.

“Color of envy, and jealousy makes sense.” I shoot your eyes back to look at his eyes, he ordained an all-knowing smirk. I’d been staring at his hand this time,

“And yours the colors of anger and sadness. Seems like a lonely combination.”

“It can be, but I just meet strange women in diners to pass the time.” I giggle at his remark,

“You think I’m strange? You’re going to have a lot of fun here in Hawkins I’m sure.”

“Do you wanna get outta here?” he cautiously moved his hand higher towards my thigh just grazing. It sent unfamiliar shivers rocketing through my system, I stopped his movements, causing him to jerk back while still touching our legs knocking against each other.

“I want to keep talking actually, I think we’re really getting somewhere. Besides, I’m really not that girl. I could introduce you to a few that are always hot and ready though if that’s all you're looking for tonight.” he hummed darkly in his throat. Leaning further, adjusting himself to move his legs around mine.

“No fun, what’s your favorite childhood memory?” he asked, pouting, I scoffed at the change of conversation almost mocking what I’d done earlier. Thinking about it for a moment trying to find it,

Trees were filled with snow, the sun from above made everything shine brightly. I was wrapped up in a hot amount of clothing, the only thing touching the brutal cold was the tip of a already frozen red nose. It had stopped snowing hours ago, coming up above waist height making it hard to walk through. Holding onto mom’s mitted hand, while Dad made himself busy shoveling the porch. She stopped in the middle of the yard letting go, scrunching a ball of snow in her hands hurling at Dad’s back. He gasped, turning in surprise, I giggled, grabbing my own balls of snow and throwing some wildly at both of them. Soon he caught us in his arms and leaned back, making as of us fall back into the pile of plush snow. Panting heavily, clouds started the soft snow up again and all of us were covered making a snowman. He posed us next to the porch before taking a single photo of mom. She was smiling hard enough for her eye to just be small squints, snow covered her hat and lashes melting dainty on her skin. Soon after we went inside by the fire, he made you all hot cocoa as the blizzard continued outside. She passed away after New Years, after a week of being in the E.R.

“The Grandparents moved to Maine after Dad refused to go with them, insisting I should grow up where him and mom did. Experience her life as much as possible, until I was old enough to make my own choices.” You explained this is Billy leaving out some of the more quiet realizations, he watched me recalled with amazement.

“What’s yours?” I asked him fondly,

“Well a few come to mind, first kiss. Some embarrassing ones like the first pimple or surprise boner.” I cringed at the last part making him laugh, throwing his head to the side. “No but um, my mom she would take me to the beach and let me surf. For hours I’d be out there, I’d fall asleep on the ride home from exhaustion. Wake up when she’d turn onto our street feeling a slight sunburn under my shirt, the tension wasn’t there until the drive home. The beach was our little escape into paradise…” he huffs,

"I thought you didn't talk about her?"

"Yeah, me too." stretching his arms up, yawning as he take a glance at his watch. We’d only been in the diner for two hours, but it was nearing midnight. The diner was open all hours, but there was slight guilt for still being here. Billy noticed the same thing, pulling out his wallet. "Think that should cover it?"

"No." He cocked his eyebrow."Sorry, no, as in 'No, I eat here for free', not no, "you don't have enough money' . "

"Here, I thought we were on a date? Now you're making ne look bad."

"Not as bad as Tyler."

"Bye cuties! Don't be strangers!"

"Thank you."

"Thank you for a genuinely nice dinner.”

“Thank you for the genuinely nice company, do you want me to walk you to your car?”

“I actually walked here, so I’ll just walk back home.”

“Nonsense, I’ll give you a ride. Where we headed?” He pulls his smokes and keys from his jacket pocket.

“No, it’s late. I’m sure you're tired from moving. I don’t mind-”

“Neither do I.” he started to walk towards a blue vehicle opening the passenger door, leaning against the back intently, almost beckoning me to challenge him at this point. I didn't. Instead of listening to the voice in the back of my head, screaming not to, I conceded to slipping into the leather passenger seat. He knelt down, leaning over slightly, and tucked my seatbelt until we both heard the click. His hands were dangerously close to my chest as he moved it over shoulder, straightening the belt.

“Trying to cop a feel, California?” i teased just above a whisper into the ear facing me, he chuckled darkly. Moving his lips to the side of my face,

“Not without permission, I like it when a woman begs for my touch across her skin.” He moved out the door and slammed it shut, I exhaled sharply, eyes blown up out of my skull as the butterflies fluttered throughout my closed eyes. He opened the driver's side and slammed his body down, shaking the car with his weight. “D’you mind?” he asked, taking a cigarette from the pack and placing it between his lips. I nodded in disagreement, the only response that would conger still near dizzy from his words early. He grinned and moved his hand to open the glove box, brushing against my leg as he took a lighter from it. Silver shiny square wrappers shone in the neon light of the diner catching my eyes as he closed it shut. The engine roared to life along with loud heavy metal music blasting from his player, he rolled down his window puffing out the smoke. Reversing out of the parking lot at remarkable speed. “Are you gonna tell me where you live or should I just take you to mine?” he laughed, stopping at the edge of the street.

“Turn left Hotshot,” I bit back, growing fond of his endless teasing. He wiped the car in the correct direction, head banging at his music. Turning it down enough he would be able to hear me over it as he parked in front of the house.

“Are you gonna go inside?”

“Yeah sorry, just thinking how to explain to my Dad why I’m stumbling in after midnight.”

“Don’t tell ’m anything, just waltz right into your room. It works for me.” I chuckled, facing him as I released the seatbelt.

“Thanks again, here.” I dug through my bag grabbing some spare cash from my wallet, holding it out for him. “Gas money, I live pretty far out.”

“No I couldn’t,”

“Come on, I insist. I would still be walking for another 30 minutes without you. And definitely had given up on men in general, before you showed up.” he shook his head, he took my wrist in his hand and set it back down in my lap. Reaching out over again to push the door open for me, this time the smell of Marlboros wafted from his lips.

“Go on, maybe let me take you on a real date next time and we can call it even.” he said, leaning back against his own seat and removing his hand. I sighed as he did, then came an idea. Opening the glove box in front of my knees I stuffed it in between the papers, brushing my hand against the definite condoms. Closing it quickly and jumping out of the car, closing the door and walking around to cross the street. I heard his soft protests, turning around to glance at him crossing the street, digging the house key out of the bottom of my bag. “Wait! You’re not gonna tell me your name?” he pleaded questioningly, I smiled shaking my head walking back to his door. Laying my hands flat on the open window,

“I like being mysterious, I’ll see you around Hargrove.” he placed a hand over mine, the other cupping under my chin for him to rub his thumb along my bottom lip. I courageously pressed a small kiss to the rough pad before running up the porch steps. Waving goodbye as I opened the door, then sinking against it once it was firmly closed behind me. Dad wasn’t in the living room, the kitchen light was on glowing over the darkness of the living room and rest of the down stairs. I tossed my bag down, kicking off the heavy boots at the door walking upstairs to retire for the night.  

-

"Nice ride, it's almost as gorgeous as the girl riding it" hearing the dark familiar voice,

"Good one, do you use that one with all the ladies?" you cocked your head at the boy you’d met this weekend after Tyler stood you up.

"No, just the ones worth my time, I'm Billy Hargroove remember? I own the blue 1979 Chevrolet Camaro that just pulled in all the way from California to grace your town."

"Ah, I see. Well good for you Mr. Hargroove, maybe we'll see each other more often to have more riveting conversations." You wink at him heading inside to put your helmet in your locker when Carol comes over.

“I’m sorry, since when are you a slut for jocks?” She slams your locker shut, “Do you think you could introduce me to hotty with a body.” You open your locker again,

“Don’t know who you're talking about and don’t care, but maybe just keep your mouth open wide. You’ll catch more dick that way.” You open the locker the rest of the way covering her face, her shoulder slams into you before walking away. On the overhead speaker you hear, “Y/N Newby to the counselors please, Ms. Newby to the counselors.” There's teasing as you walk to the Office, stopping short of the Junior/Senior counselors office Ms. Kelly stands with the blonde nightmare from earlier. He’s looking her up and down like a snack leaning against the door frame, you clear your throat to get their attention.

“Hi Ms. Kelly, you wanted to see me?”

“Yes, Ms, Newby. I’d like to introduce you to our newest student. This is William, sorry Billy Hargrove, he just moved here from California! Mr. Hargrove, this is Y/N Newby.” she motions to him, you put on a fake smile putting out your hand to shake his, he takes it and places a light kiss on your knuckles.

“It’s so nice to meet you Y/N,” he winks at you, you remove your hand wiping the feeling of his lips on your blouse.

“Y/N actually, we met in the parking lot, Ms. Kelly.” you narrow your eyes at him staring into your soul with his beautiful baby blue eyes and perfect teeth chewing at some gum. “So why am I here?” you sigh at her, ready to start your day.

“Well Ms. Newby, since your first period is Math and you have no problem keeping up that perfect A. As well being such a well versed academic and club member, I chose you to show Mr. Hargrove around today.” he chuckles, wetting his red lips, “Your schedules are also extremely similar so even more time for you to make friends, potentially help him get caught up if need be.” She passes you Billy’s schedule. God was she right, you had Gym, English Literature, Advanced World History and lunch period together. His locker number was also too close for comfort, you weren’t ever going to not see this absolute jerk-face unless you skipped the rest of Senior year all together. The warning bell rings “You have all of first period to show him around, I already sent notes to your respective teachers and then you can end the tour by going to World History together. I hope you enjoy our small town school Mr. Hargrove, let us know if you need any more assistance.” she looks at you and nods going back into her office. You roll your eyes and sigh heavily at his shit eating grin.

“Well let's get this over with California, I’ll show you your locker first.” You walk him down the hall across from your own locker, he has the code written with a marker on his hand. It takes him two tries before it opens for him. Setting his shoulder bag inside he takes off his jean jacket, holy shit he was ripped.

“So what do you Indiana Teenagers do for fun?” he asks you to break the silence since you spoke in the office.

“Have sex, play sports and smoke weed? Are those the answers you were looking for?” He puts the jacket into the locker and grabs his small bag again.

“Sounds pretty accurate to me, how are the sports?” You begin walking to the gymnasium,

“Okay, for what we have. Basketball is the most sought after team next to Cheerleading. This is the boys locker room.” You point to it while you pass by it,

“Cheer isn’t a sport, though?” he said narrowing his eyes,

“Yeah okay, Hargrove. Maybe you should put on a short skirt and get thrown into the air. While still looking hot! Plus have you seen how flexible, and muscular Male and Female cheerleaders get? I don’t see many Football or Basketball players with such finesse, or strength in their muscles.”

“Okay, maybe you're right. But you haven’t watched me play yet.” God he was a walking, flirting red flag. You rolled your eyes walking into the gym to see freshmen stinking up the place, so much so Coach has all three sets of double doors open.

“So you're a flirt, drive a cool car and play basketball? The girls here are gonna love you California. That’s coach,” you point out the man yelling at the freshman to pick up their awkward knees. He was a pretty nice guy, especially if you at least tried unlike any other P.E teacher or coach you’d met before.

“Does that still include you, Indiana?” you rolled your eyes at him and walked out to the track to the other side of the building. He catches up to you quickly, “Aren’t you supposed to help me find my way by answering my questions?”

“I’m supposed to show you around, not be a notch on your bedpost. This is a place of learning Hargrove, and I intend to be the most successful in this school. So the sex, sports games and drugs are mostly off the table if I’m to earn my seat at Stanford.”

“California?” he stutters catching up to you,

“Yes my fall back is MIT and a couple others but Stanford’s the dream, I know how silly it is.”

“Not really, sounds like a pretty good dream to me.” you scoff at him, “You also said fun was mostly off the table so I’ll take that as a challenge, Doll.” he winks at you.

“My name is Y/N, Billy.”

“And mine is technically William,” he threw his hands in the air, walking up and opening the side door of the school. You gave him a thin lipped smile and opened the other side by yourself, “ Hm, maybe I’ll call you Spitfire instead because you sure do! What are you doing after school today, Spitfire?” he walks around you, making you stop in front of each other at the door of your History class. You look at your watch to avoid his eyes,

“Hmm, anything but whatever this is,” you point in between you two and the bell rings before he can respond, “Looks like tours over, see you in class California.” You slap his shoulder before walking into your assigned seat towards the front middle of the room. You see Steve walking across the courtyard, he waves at you through the window and you waved back.

“Who’s that? Your boyfriend, he doesn’t look like much for a girl like you.” Billy asks from behind you. You turn to look at him, he smiles that he catches your attention.

“Are you going to be this annoying and nosey every class we have together? It’s also assigned seating.” You point to the board which has now changed to put Billy behind you, “shit.” He leans forward in his seat, his breath brushed against your neck.

“What? I have bad eyes, plus I’m just trying to make friends like Ms. Kelly wants us too.” He lightly brushes the hair that fell to your shoulder, making you shiver. You grab his hand before he can react. Turning to see his face, he rips his hand from yours playfully.

“I can be friendly,” you smile at him before flipping all your hair on your back laying it across his desk. The bell rang, prompting Mrs. Garyson to start today's lesson on the War of Pigs. Before you knew it you went to Anatomy, which kinda made your stomach turn but it's a good class. Then it was gym time, and oh how you wished you had just done it as a hormonal freshmen. Senior year P.E was to condition you to be College Athletes by the end of the semester. You walked in watching the Seniors warming up, until you felt someone pick you up from behind and spin you, setting you down Steve turned you around to look at him.

“Hey Sweetheart! Where were you in Stats? I sat all alone listening to Knoll the Troll blab about how to not get behind on the mid-term assignment or You. Will. Fail… duh duh.” you laughed at him, watching Billy come into the Gym walking next to Tommy H. You and Steve sat down together waiting for Coach to join us, instruct what we were doing today.

“I had to show this new kid around, we have like 3 classes together and since I’m on my way to Valedictorian I have to play a role in the student body. As well as keeping my head above water while taking an extremely challenging course load. I think he’s going to cause some trouble. Are you still talking to Tommy and Carol by the way?” you motion to Tommy with your eyes.

“No, they don’t really give a shit about me except my parents money and empty house. Why do you ask?”

“Because I think both Tommy and Carol want to screw the new guy,” You both laugh, looking at Tommy being so extravagant while he talks to Billy. Billy’s eyes burn towards the pair of you, you try to shake up his stare. Before you know it class ends, now it's lunch you drop off some books at your locker. You walk past the trophy case stopping for a moment to look at the various years of accomplishments collecting dust. You see your Mom and Dad smiling and posing with some other students in ‘The National Honor Society’ photo from Class of 1965, it has her maiden name and everything. Little did they know by the next March they would be pregnant and by December have their first and only child.

And in 1970 your mom would lose her fight with cancer, leaving you and your Dad against the world. You wiped a tear with the back of your hand, trying not to smear your makeup too much.

“Who’s this?” Billy says walking up next to you, pointing to the photo you were staring at. You walk away from him going towards the library, before he can see your tears. He lingers for a minute looking at all the pictures before he stumbles on the names Harrington and Newby in a National Honors Society photo. At first glance none of the people look very familiar until he stops at someone who could practically be your twin. He realized it said Class of 1965, and kept that information to himself for later.

You are at your locker after school and a body slams into the wall. Seeing the tight jeans and boots right by your feet, the door keeping you but mere inches apart,

“You really just can’t leave me alone can you?” you scowl looking over the side of the locker, Billy grins with his jean jacket along his shoulder.

“Nah I don’t think I can. We're friends, remember?" You closed the locker after grabbing your helmet.

"I don't think you're the type to keep friends that are girls, just friends. Besides off the table, remember? You can stop skirt chasing me, you know I'm not interested." He kept pace with you as you walked outside to your bike.

"Indiana, what do you think I'm trying to do here?" He stops in front of the doors, opening it for you.

"I don't know, make fun of me or something?" You brush off the confession and quicken your pace on the pavement.

"Doll," he stops you by holding your arms "if I was just trying to heckle you, do you think I would be trying so hard to understand you?" His eyes burned into you, like you'd hurt him with the assumption. "C'mon what's the worst thing to happen?" You looked over to the rows of other girls giving you death stares before turning back to him and brushing him off.

“Them." You point out the popular crowd which used to include Steve more frequently but now just laugh behind his back.

"I don't give a fuck about what they think, I know you don't either. I enjoy how realistic you are, it's not normal for a person to look at me as a human and not just drool. You're odd to me, in a good way.”

“Really, now?”

“Yes, you’re truly mature and nicely stand-offish, your main concern is your future and friends. I also heard rumors of you dating but I knew that wasn’t true until saw you in the gym, all touchy feely. Whispering to each other, I asked around to see if that was Tyler. But when I remembered he graduated, some Tommy kid informed me that was The King of Hawkins. And not to dare try to get in your pants because I’d have to answer to him," You looked at him confused, and he motioned to Steve at his car. Staring daggers at him as Nancy talked.

"Steve Harrington?" You asked, anger started to build in your stomach. Billy snapped his fingers,

"Yes that's the name! So curiosity kicked in and I asked around, everyone says he's dating some Nancy chick. Yeah a bunch of people said he doesn’t like guys hanging around his girls, especially you Doll. I guess he beats the shit out of people who talk of you." You saw Steve over by his car, laughing with Nancy.  Not looking at you again, burying his head in her neck.

"We are not… Anything more than just neighbors. Our mothers were very close. That also seems like a borderline stalker that you asked about me to several people, California. Covering your tracks and trying to flatter me won't be enough. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll see you in class tomorrow." You moved his hands off of you, before setting your helmet on the ground by your bike, marching over to where Steve was.

"Hey guys, what's the plan?" They stop gazing into each other's eyes, Steve turns around fully after helping Nancy off the hood of his car.

"Well since you're talking so much to the new kid we figured you wouldn't mind us just going and doing something." He tells you looking at Nancy's nod of approval, it makes you just that much more angry.

“Oh so you do allow me to go out with guys when it's convenient for you?" You ask him to condescend the statement that may or may not be true.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Steve bites back, finally looking at you taking note of how angry you are. Nancy keeps her head down, looking away.

"Oh nothing you kids have fun, I'm just going to do our Stats homework for us. Don't want to draw unwarranted male attention when you're Steve’s friend." You turn heel and walk away, seeing a horde of girls at Billy's car already.

Masterlist

[straycalamities]

I NEED to know more about ace. I'm home of sexual for him

hee hee :-)))))))) okay have a lil summary rundown of the Lad

name: Ace Dale Miller age: (typically) early 30s pronouns: he/him identity: transgender panromantic asexual man birthday: June 7 height: 5'10" (177cm)

how he dresses: always nice, always sharp. any dishevelment is calculated. wears either real designer or fake designer depending on where he's at financially. typically blazers, loafers, and slacks, but will go e3 announcer w a tshirt, brand new sneakers, and jeans (underneath a blazer) sometimes. yknow. casual. sleeps in tshirt and sleep pants

alignment: (typically) true neutral religious beliefs: nonpracticing Christian (barely above the atheist line) hobbies: darts, flirting, mobile games, cards (games and tricks), being right and flaunting it habits/quirks: pops his gum, chews his food obnoxiously even while talking, fidgeting with pens (and other objects), drumming, leg bouncing likes: money, luxury, fame, attention, bars, casinos, winning, pop music, comedy, musicals, gold, the number 7, praise, compliments, did i say attention?, being catered to, travel, being right dislikes: being touched, his upbringing/hometown, certain drunks, being by himself, boredom, being quiet, extreme violence, being dirty, being ignored, physical labor, creepy crawlies fears: being irrelevant, growing old, ending up anything like his father, certain bugs aspirations: be so fucking rich and famous skills: silver-tongue, sleight-of-hand, street-wise, poker face, speeches, singing, thinking things through from a social/human standpoint, kinetic learner secrets: lol like...everything that isn't already on the surface. he's a very private person

typically carries: wallet, phone, keys, caffeine gum, deck of cards

personality traits: snarky, fake-smiler, egotistical, charming, charismatic, sarcastic, doesn't believe in scenarios where he'll lose, classist, hyperbolic, deflective, bratty, large ham, drama queen, people-smart, private, optimistic when it comes to himself, braggart, loud, stubborn, coward, smug, must be on top/right/the best, tsundere (once u reach that layer. honestly there's just a whole new slew of personality traits every time you break through one of his layers)

background summary: i wont get too into it bc :) secrets. but he's a rags-to-riches self-made man. forced to grow up way too early and clawed his way to the top. daddy issues.

favorite color: gold favorite band: 3Oh!3 favorite crooner: Frank Sinatra favorite music genres: pop, jazz, swing favorite games: poker, bejeweled, candy crush favorite food: deluxe cheeseburgers favorite drink: apple juice favorite movie: (uh...this is actually hard bc we wouldnt have the same taste at ALL so i havent seen...most of the movies i think he'd like LOLLL i'll just say Mean Girls because he does like it but i dont think it's his ultra fav)

[fairyrebelled]

noah. • bodyclaim. • headcanons. • isms. • threads.

Is that DYLAN SPRAYBERRY? No, that’s NOAH GREENE. The 21 year old FAIRY OMEGA MALE (HE/HIM) is a/an/the STUDENT & ASSISTANT (TO THE FAIR FOLK COUNCIL). If you ask their friends, they’re known to be CONFIDENT & INDEPENDENT, but beware, they’re also known to be RECKLESS & REBELLIOUS. Can you believe they’re from THE PRESENT? Me either. 

BASIC INFO

full name — Noah Greene age — twenty (april 1st) gender — cis male, (he/ him/ his pronouns) second gender — omega  occupation — faircouncil slave assistant clothing style — punk-ish, holes, tears, pins etc. and jeans

PHYSICAL INFO

face claim — Dylan Sprayberry hair — brown / eyes — blue height — five foot & five inches build — compact, lil stocky but thin waist and big arms scars — a few from fights he picked by spreading his no-shits-given attitude tattoos — a few, family emblem on his wrist (not his decision), an anarchy for fae logo on the back of his neck piercings — a bunch, eyebrow, ear, nipples, lip special characteristics — no shits given attitude, will pop the finger at pretty much everybody sexual preference— bratty bottom sub kinks — breeding, tell him what a good boy he is, praise, nipple play (pierciiiiiings), spanking, put pretty things on him (a shiny plug or collar or something), manhandling (he's a brat, be ready) anti-kinks — scat, gore

PERSONALITY

alignment — chaotic neutral positive traits — confident, independent, kind negative traits — reckless, rebellious, brat, feisty, unfriendly hobbies — rebellion keeps him busy

MEDICAL INFO

mental — n/a physical — healthy bby phobias — n/a eyesight — 17/20 dominant hand — right hand drug use — nop alcohol use — yep, even tho he's not allowed oops. diet — annoyed by all the fancy-ass rich people food from home, he's big into fast food

BACKGROUND

birthplace — new haven, CT parents — Alkara Greene & Noraine Greene   siblings — Alwyn, Islwyn and Shania (all older by 10 ish years) education — high school drop out notable skills — fighting his parents, arguing about the exact same thing over and over and over, disagreeing with everything someone else says

Born with not only a silverspoon in his proverbial mouth, but an entire collection of silver cutlery, Noah should've grown up to be the happiest child with the most fulfilled life one could imagine. And for a long time it was exactly that, or it felt like it, but Noah never quite felt like he ... was right where he was. It might've been the fact his siblings were all much older than him and he'd been somewhat of an accident, or maybe it was because they were all so incredibly good at everything - they were Fairies after all, that he just .. knew he'd never be able to compete.

They were tall, blonde, blue-eyed and smart. Alwyn was going to law school - a year early than was normal, Islwyn was a resident at the hospital and Shania had just opened her own restaurant under the ever-watchful eye of the town's council. They were all in meaningful and yet arranged relationships with other Fairy partners and it was honestly kind of disgusting to watch sometimes. It wasn't normal, being so goddamn perfect.

And so Noah decided to be the exact opposite. No oppression, no ... letting them dictate life for him, no pushing him into being someone he wasn't. He was wild, he didn't like school, he didn't like authority, he ... just wanted to be left alone. He wanted to fuck shit up and leave a path of destruction in his wake. It wasn't even that he hated his family, he just ... didn't want to be part of it. Sure, they probably loved him, but ... they sucked at showing it - really.

He ran away from home a few times, slept in abandoned buildings (yes, even New Haven had some) out by the fields, but someone always found him and he was dragged back - kicking and screaming to once again find himself in a golden cage of .... wealth. Ungrateful, spoiled, brat. He was aware, thank you, but he also couldn't give any less shits than ... none.

So, he got himself into trouble. He stole from the mall, he cracked windows of store wherever he went, his trusty bat always with him wherever he went and he picked fights whenever he could. It was... freeing, feeling his blood pumping and adrenaline take over. But it never lasted unfortunately and so he kept on going higher and further - harder and faster.

Until he got himself caught. Again. Only this time ... the council was involved and Noah was faced with two options. Be the first Fairy in jail among vampires, weres and sharks or ... work for a better future. My ass, what a bunch of nonsense. But he ... had no other option than to accept, because no way in fucking hell was he going to replace his golden cage with iron bars.

And so he met Dallas Song.

[pens-and-gems]

Understanding the One and Only Miss. Chloe Bourgeois Preview

“Mom, I hope Jean-Patrick has finished packing our suitcases! We’re leaving right now!” Chloe, the whiny spoiled brat in all of Paris screamed and demanded as she stomped right into her family’s hotel: The Grande Paris Hotel. However, to her surprise and disgust, her parents, Andre and Audrey Bourgeois were together, happily holding hands.

“Chloe,” Andre happily said. “Your mother has decided to stay after all!” Audrey followed along.

“Yes, we’ve undoubtedly made our share of  mistakes along the way, but then who hasn’t? What matters is to fix them, right?”

“Oh! My queen!” With that said, The Bourgeois couple began to kiss one another.

“Eww! This is despicable!” Utterly despicable! I order you both to fight again!” Chloe commanded her parents; however, the lovey dovey parents just ignored their daughter and kept kissing.

“Ugh, ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!” The blonde girl snapped. “If you both need me, which I hope you don’t, I’ll be on the roof relaxing!” The bratty daughter then stomped away growling.

As she finally reached the rooftop, Chloe mumbled to herself about her whole day from beginning to end. 

“Stupid Ladybug, stupid Cat! Stupid all of them!” The whiny blonde complained as she began to unfold her chair and laid on it. 

“I could’ve been their second-in-command partner, I could’ve been the best partner they could’ve had, I even could’ve been the best hero in all of Paris!” She pouted as she grabbed a magazine from the side of her chair. 

“But no, they had to rely on that stupid dragon girl or whatever the hell her name was! And all of those other losers!” The rich girl vented to herself as she put down her sunglasses over her eyes and began to raise her phone; only to feel a sudden pain in her throat and chest. 

“I could’ve finally been important, I could’ve finally been accepted.” Quickly, wanting to cover up her flaw of today: Sadness; she snapped a picture of herself with her phone and uploaded it to her social media platforms. 

“I could’ve found people that loved me for once.” No longer having the guts to hide it, Chloe threw her magazine and glassed aside and began to sob. 

“I fucked up big time, and now Ladybug won’t ever forgive me!”

 What made it worse was that all the memories from today kept repressing in her head. From teaming up with Hawk Moth and Mayura, to exposing all the other holders, to yelling at Pollen; the only true companion she could’ve had besides Adrien and Sabrina, to finally being expelled from the team. The more these memories replayed in her head, the more guilt the rich blonde girl felt. What specially didn’t help was hearing her own mother’s words after the whole battle she had with her former idol: 

“We’ve undoubtedly made our share of mistakes along the way, but then who hasn’t? What matters is to fix them, right?” 

That one just hit Chloe hard. So hard that she felt like someone was stabbing her in the stomach and in the back at the same time. 

“Is this what pain actually feels like,” she began to question. “Like legit backstabbing and betrayal? Like what I did to Ladybug today?!” The former Bee hero squeaked out of regret. Suddenly, a sound bleeped from her phone. She picked it up and saw numerous comments on her recent post. All of them were related to today’s event.

“Heard that Queen Bee became Hawk Moth’s new lackey. Good to know you never changed!” One commenter said with the clown emoji by it, definitely mocking her choice. 

“Queen Bee? More like Queen Lame! Glad Ladybug did the right thing and kicked you off!” Another said with even more venom in their feedback. 

[wriothesleysgf]

nini dashie ! ! i was gna post something today but didn't get around to finishing it— here's a lil list of my wips for y'all instead ><

stepbrother ! geto & his best friend gojo ! [ threesome ]

lawyer ! nanami

bodyguard ! wriothesley & a very bratty rich girl ! reader

artist ! jean kirschtein*

hawks & pro-hero reader rivals to lovers*

*multichap fics idk if i'll ever post.

[suguru-getos]

i ship you with the one and only gojo so bad. like it’s my dream actually, it’s canon. i’m gonna ramble, it may get nsfw, we’ll see.

you are such a brat. gojo thinks he’s one too until he’s absolutely begging for you to even be nice to him. he’s so overconfident in himself when you meet—it grosses you out despite how pretty he is. you’re intrigued by him, of course you are, no one has managed not to be. but still. you know how to act like you hate him because you know someone needs to tell this spoiled bratty entitled rich grown adult man child no.

but he’s obsessed with you. it’s bad. nothing makes him hard like a pretty girl acting like she doesn’t want him. but he knows better. he can see how you adjust the way you sit and try really hard not to make eye contact until you’ve summoned all your courage to give him that silencing piercing stare of yours—all in an effort to make him leave you alone. but it makes him giggle. it makes his jeans tighten—and it makes him all the more determined to win you over.

he’s showy about it at first. he wants you to deny him in public, almost manipulative in that way. or at the very least, he wants everyone to see what lengths he’ll go to impress you. so it’s all dior bags and red bottoms and tiffany and perfume and makeup and whatever whatever whatever.

you threw the first gift away right in front of his face. $30,000 necklace. in the public park trash. you kept walking too. he’s rock hard as he snatches it off the top and makes sure to just put the gifts in your house next time.

then he’s paying all your bills. you can’t go to work and avoid him if you have nothing to worry about, right? he doesn’t have to be showy about this, because 1: you’ll already know it’s him. you’re smart, and he knows that—loves that. and 2: this is what he wants to do for the rest of his life anyway, what’s all this money for anyway then if not paying for his wife-to-be’s expenses? because yes. you don’t know it yet. but you’ll be his wife.

and when you finally do come around….you’ll never regret it. he’s a dog at your feet, even though you’re hypothetically powerless. how pathetic you’ve made him, and it’s amazing.

songs: angel (the weeknd) r u mine? (arctic monkeys) heartbeat (childish gambino) apocalypse (cigarettes after sex)

Anon allow me to formally ask for your hand in marriage I earn I cook I clean I take you on dates and spoil you thank you! No but seriously, I love this ask so much 🥺🩵 I have been extra sensitive about Satoru lately because of the Manga spoilers ya know? So thank you, I really appreciate someone taking the time out of their day to indulge in a silly little game like this. Keeping these hcs cherished forever I promise! 💕

[soaringonblackwings]

Title: Wind Underneath Your Wings

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh 5D's

Chapters: 2/5

External: AO3 / FF.net / SquidgeWorld

Summary: It's time for the WRPG and unfortunately Crow has an accident that puts him on the bench. With a broken shoulder he spends his free time coaching a team of girls at the local community center.

A re-write of the team Catastrophe duel. Also giving Crow a B-plot that connects to him becoming a coach in the epilogue.

Crow got an early start getting ready for his day at the community center. Looking at the info board today is the second half of round one of the Little League Grand Prix. It will be a busy day today. He signed in and was greeted by Ryoko in the office.

“Hello Crow. I did not think I would be seeing you again so soon.” She said. “Yesterday you seemed unsure of yourself.”

“I am completely sure of my decision,” Crow firmly shook his head. “Now, who am I coaching?”

“You will help out anyone who needs it.” Ryoko hands him a tag with the word ‘coach’ on it. “No one knows about you yet except my sisters. Hopefully, that will change in the future. For now you can just keep an eye on things and enjoy the tournament.”

Crow was left to his own devices as Ryoko had to take care of things. Crow went to the miscellaneous room to clean up there. He was doing odd jobs for the day. In the meantime he met Ryoko’s sisters, the other managers of the community center: Jade and Muckraker. Soon the contestants of the tournament pooled into the building.

Crow would watch the duels when on his downtime.

“I can’t believe they are letting criminals on the property.” A boy said from beside Crow. He was no older than eight or nine saying words with such disgust. “My parents will hear about this. Having a criminal around will only make people feel unsafe.”

This kid had a lot of mouth. A white button up shirt with suspenders attached to black dress pants. No matter how you look at it this kid came from money.

“Ha ha ha! He is doing volunteer hours for a crime!” The loudmouth next in the lineup laughed. He was wearing a white button up that had ruffles on the wrist and collar. He had on black jeans.

The third friend was disinterested in everything and everyone around him. He had on a puffer jacket and black sweatpants.

“Xitto, Phovi, and Taxus! Lay off!” On Crow’s other side a girl spoke up. She had pale skin and red hair being held back by a multicolored headband. She was wearing a short cream-colored t-shirt with a striped pink and red skirt, long black tights, and brown shoes, and has a blue bracelet on her left arm. “He is the new coach. He matches Ms. Ryoko’s description. He has not done anything wrong so let him enjoy the competition.”

“Humph. No matter, my parents will have him fired by morning.” The kid name Xitto stuck his nose in the air and walked away with his two friends.

Crow had never delt with such impudent children before.

“Do not mind him. He is the typical bratty rich kid.” The next girl said. She had light-brown skin with blue eyes and puffy burgundy hair arranged in two bunches on each side of her head. She is wearing a white shirt under a dark pink vest dress. “My name is Amanda.”

“I am Allie.” The red head girl introduces herself. She turns and points to another girl beyond Amanda. “She is Guu. She is not much of a talker.”

Guu nodded. She had deep dark skin and stormy grey eyes. Her cloudy pink hair was done up in one into a single puff. She is wearing a dress that has various star patterns on it. Crow noted that all three girls had a duel disk on their arms.

“We have a question um….” Allie says.

“Crow. Call me Crow.” He said.

“I have a question about a card. Let us go to the miscellaneous room.” Allie said.

The three girls all run off before Crow ask if they had a match. He did not want them to miss their turn. Or they already fought and there was no reason to worry.

In the miscellaneous room the girls showed him the card they had a question on. They wanted to know if it could have been activated during the opponents turn. Crow read the text and it did say ‘once per turn.’ It turned into a whole thing of explaining effects and cards that can be explained during both players turns and ones that could only be activated during the player’s turns.

"See I told you it could have been activated on the opponent’s turn." Allie looks at Guu, who shrunk in on herself. All Guu did was nod in agreement.

“Hey, lets not get carried away now.” Crow said trying to dispel in antagonism amongst the group before it got out of control.

“But she almost cost us the game.” Allie says.

“Look I know you want to win but what does it matter if you are going to are gonna hurt your friend in the process. You are all inexperienced and you should use that inexperience to help each other grow.” Crow walked over to Guu to return her card. “Guu, was it? Now that you know more about the card more strategies are open for you.”

Guu nods putting the card back in her deck.

“You didn’t know how your cards worked at one point.” Amanda said. “So don’t be too hard on Guu.”

Allie reflects on her actions and words. “You are right. I am sorry Guu.”

Guu nods and both girls hug.

“I-I’ll do better in round two….” Guu says.

“I will too.” Amanda chimes in.

Allie wraps her arms around here friends. “I will too! I will have a better attitude then too.”

Crow smiled and saw them off. He was definitely going to have his hands full with these three.

[totouchthcstars]

Look who just woke up- is that REGE-JEAN PAGE? No, I must have been mistaken that’s LESTAT DE LIONCOURT from VAMPIRE CHRONICLES. I heard he is VERY OLD and stuck here just like everyone else. Even in the 20’s, they still give off a SOMETIMES BEING BORED BY HIS EtERNAL EXISTENCE AS A VAMPIRE; LOVING TO BATH IN ATTENTION AND PRAISE OTHERS GIVE HIM; MOSTLY ENJOYING THE FINE THINGS IN LIFE LIKE MUSIC; THEATRE AND FASHION impression. They’re known to be quite CHARMING but have a tendency to be EGOISTIC on their bad days.

Gender/Pronouns : he/him

How long have they been in Sydney :

Which suburb do they live in? Tba

Personality description : Lestat is entitled and vain, a result of his priviliged upbringing, and he enjoys being bratty and breaking rules. While being pretty skilled, Lestat is also egoistic, and living for the attention people give him. He can be charming to get what he wants, but also short-tempered and violent when things do not go his way. With his eternal life, he tends to get bored easily, and always searches for new things that could promise him pleasure

Memories of their real life: bascially everything that happened during Interview with a Vampire and Queen Of The Dammed, including that Claudia had been trying to kill him

What was their fake life like :

Lestat thought he would be mortal actually while living his fake life. However, it was strange that he was never sick, and never got hurt - or, when, would heal pretty easily again.

It made him becoming reckless as a teenager, wanting to impress the girls this way by getting into fights or accepting dangerous dares.

However, Lestat quickly had other problems. His family lived in poverty and were outsiders due to the colour of their skin, and Lestat was so sick of it. He hated how society did treat them, especially the rich part of Sydney, but on the other hand, was fascinated by what was going on there behind closed doors. And he really wanted more from life than what he had.

The decision was made, and, with Lestat being Lestat, he managed to charm his way into this world - he was good-looking, had a talent for music and knew what people wanted to hear him saying - and, yes, it did change him. And not for the better. But, he was where he wanted to be, and when the older woman Lestat had laid an eye on one day, there was also finally enough money for finally living the life he wanted to live.

label: the hedonist( pursue of pleasure is the most important thing in life)

theme song: Evanescence - Bring Me To Life

quote: "Evil is a point of view. God kills indiscriminately, and so shall we, for no creatures under God are as we are, none so like Him... as ourselves."