#so I will be taking a pause for this little hiatus

[booksandshowsandmovies-ohmy]

Well, it has been A MINUTE since I posted about Chenford. I moved and haven’t been able to watch live at all this season and most of last season as well, so it just felt…a bit flat, I guess. Buuuut, I always spoil myself as the newest episode airs and after tonight. Y’all. I’m waiting to watch this episode. I’m gonna need the next episode like RIGHT AFTER this one in order to survive. I’m gonna just pretend tonight’s episode doesn’t exist right now. That’s my coping mechanism. Yup

[shaguro]

synposis: the story of how you met your sugar-daddy, nanami, at the cafe you work at. ♡ (the prequel to this drabble!)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ tags: sugar daddy nanami! (college student/barista reader x coo nanami), reader is fem, age gap (nanami is 30, reader is 24.), ceo gojo cameo at the start, flirty nd playful banter btwn reader nd nanami, anna is reader's coworker nd friend. nanami calls reader sweetheart once, nanami is just smitten with her as soon as he sees her. sweet fluff! as a whole, this is very light-hearted and unserious y'all. — w.c: 2.2k. ♡

angel's note: consider this my official comeback from my hiatus! thank you so much @preciousamethyst for beta-reading, love you downn. ♡

“you’re telling me out of the five blind-dates that i set up . . . you didn’t like any of them? not even a little bit?” satoru asks incredulously, the french-vanilla latte in his hand almost spilling on the table as he leans forward. “you’re too damn picky, nanamin! they all seemed like nice, respectable ladies to me.”

nanami sighs, looking up from his laptop with an annoyed expression on his face. “the last one didn’t have any teeth . . . and can you keep it down? i’m trying to focus and you’re making a scene, as usual.”

“oh, heh. my bad.”

nanami’s eyes linger on the white-haired man for a moment before focusing on the screen in front of him again. he’s not sure why satoru tagged along to this new cafe with him on his lunch break. (when he clearly stopped visiting his favorite one to avoid him.) it’s not like nanami could say no, anyway — satoru is his boss. his annoying and extremely invasive boss who always finds a way to be in his way and in his business.

it goes without saying that his dating life is certainly not off-limits.

unwrapping the chocolate eclair he just bought, satoru takes a bite of the puffy pastry, humming once the sugary goodness hits his tastebuds. “you were right, nanamin. this does taste amazing.“ he pauses between his words to lick chocolate off his bottom lip, then off his fingers. “maybe we need to try a different approach . . . dating apps! ever tried tinder or bumble—“

“no.” nanami slams his laptop closed, shooting all satoru’s incoming questions down. “i don’t need your help. let’s try ‘letting things happen naturally and staying out of my business’ for a change, yeah?”

“but i have everything planned out! it’ll take me two seconds to make your profile and i have the perfect bio for you — thirty year old trick looking for a pretty woman to spend all my money on — how’s that sound?”

“terrible.” nanami deadpans, placing his laptop into his briefcase. he lifts the sleeve of his shirt, checking the time on his breitling navitimer before standing from his seat. “you have fun with that. i’m getting my pastry to go, i’ll see you back at the office.”

satoru’s jaw is on the floor. “but, nanami—“

without another word, nanami leaves a whining gojo to make his way towards the line that was, thankfully, empty. the baristas don’t notice him, backs turned while they talk to each other by the back counter and nanami doesn’t mind — it gives him more time to decide on what pastry he wants anyway.

truly, he doesn’t understand the obsession surrounding his love life. while nanami is looking, he is by no means desperate. even he knew it was a bad idea to present yourself as a sugar daddy on a dating app, unless you’re an idiot or just lacking a single ounce of dignity.

both categories that satoru fits into, nanami thinks. 

kneeling slightly for a better view at the assorted desserts behind the crystalline-glass case, nanami’s unsure of which one to choose. this cafè’s selection is extensive, they offer much more than what he’s used to; tarts, cakes and pastries that he’s never even seen before. ultimately, he opts to keep it simple with one of his favorites: a fluffy cinnamon roll with extra vanilla glaze.

“girl, i’ve been working real hard and i still don’t have enough saved to pay tuition.” you murmur, scooping a handful of coffee grounds into the filter and shaking the brew funnel to level them. “i’m stressed out.”

nanami’s eyes flicker to where the two of you stand. while he’s never considered himself to be a nosy man, he finds his focus shifting from his lunch to the conversation you’re having, ears perked in interest as he continues to weigh his other options.

your co-worker, anna, gives you a reassuring pat on the back, her face itched downward in concern. “yeah, you were telling me about that last week . . . how much more do you need?”

“around like five-hundred more.” you sigh, brushing your hands off on your apron. anna starts to speak but you stop her with a raise of your palm, already knowing what she’s thinking. “and yes, i’ve taken out loans already. my loans have loans at this point.”

anna raises her brows. “so what are you going to do?”

“i’m out of options.” you shrug, adjusting the valves on the coffee machine to their correct settings. with a heavy sigh, you lean your head on her shoulder with a pout on your glossed lips, “it’s either i start an onlyfans or god sends me a rich old man that wants to be my sugar-daddy.”

anna giggles and playfully swats your arm. even in a serious moment like this, you find a way to lighten the mood. she plays along, tapping her chin with her index finger, “hmm, that can work! maybe you can start stripping. you watched the tiktoks i sent you, right? they touch thousands on a good night.”

“oh my god, i didn’t even think of that!” you stand straight and cup your hands on your breasts through your shirt, poking your ass out a bit. “i might need a boob job and bbl if i wanna be serious about it, though . . . plus, isn’t twenty-four a little too old to start stripping?”

“girl, please. twenty-four isn’t old and you know that. you have a nice body and you’re pretty. they’ll throw stacks just based off that, trust me —”

that whole sugar-daddy thing that satoru was suggesting doesn’t sound half as bad to nanami, right now. you get the money you need and he gets to spend time with you, it’s a win-win.

“she’s right,” nanami agrees, unable to hold back the chuckle that leaves his mouth when the both of you literally jump at the sound of his voice, whipping your bodies around to see just who that deep, smooth timbre belonged to. “you’re very pretty miss . . .” his brown eyes shift down to your name-tag. “ . . . ( name ).”

you blink once, twice — lips slightly parted, heat slowly rising to your face once his sweet compliment slowly registers in your brain and how your name flowed so easily off his tongue. just looking at this man, you can tell that he has money. he’s handsome, even more so as your eyes shift from his chiseled face down to his body. nanami stands tall, he must be around six feet. sporting a white dress-shirt and navy-blue slacks that match his tie, nanami is built. the soft cotton of his shirt clings to his biceps, outlining each vein and curve. the very top of his shirt is unbuttoned, exposing a sliver of his toned chest underneath.

there is no way god answered your prayers this quickly.

in a trance, you stare at nanami like a deer in headlights, completely enamored until anna nudges your arm, snapping you back to reality. she whispers a curt ‘you better talk to that man, girl’ in your ear and that’s you realize that you didn’t even thank him yet, how rude. 

“o-oh, thank you.” you move towards the register, giving nanami a sheepish smile whilst drumming your french-tip acrylics against the granite counter. “so um . . how much of that did you hear?”

“hmm . . . most of it.”

“the onlyfans part too?”

nanami nods with a grin. “and the old rich sugar daddy part.”

you cover your face with your hand, letting out a long sigh. this is just your luck, embarrassing yourself in front of this extremely sexy stranger. “let’s just . . . pretend that didn’t happen.” you’re certain that you were definitely not getting his number after this. “what can i get you, mr . . .?”

“kento.” nanami answers, leaning a tad bit closer and you have to crane your neck slightly to look at him, that grin still on his plump lips. “but you can call me ken.”

“oh?” you catch the cheeky switch in his tone, the teasing glint in those pretty pools of brown. he’s flirting with you and why not return the same energy? you’re interested in him, too. biting back a smile of your own, you hold his gaze, staring up at him through your wispy extensions. “ok, ken, what can i get you?”

“two of those cinnamon rolls, please.” nanami answers, pointing towards the case he’d been looking at prior.

you nod and grab a set of tongs, opening the glass to place the rolls into a small plastic bag, then into a paper bag on the counter. “just that, nothing else?”

pondering on the question, nanami’s debating the risk of what he’s about to say. it’s obvious that you’re attracted to him but this was a whole different ballgame, asking you to be his sugar baby? — really, the worst that could happen is you rejecting him and as much as he doesn’t want that, he’d just have to accept it. nanami inhales a deep breath once he gathers his thoughts. here goes nothing. 

“well, there is something that i have. it’s a proposition of sorts for you.”

you look up from the register, one of your brows raised. “and what would that be?”

“allow me to take you out a few times a week, whenever you have the time . . . and i’ll pay your tuition.” nanami pauses and shakes his head, combing some of his blonde locks back with his fingers. “no, i’ll pay all your bills. as long as i get to see you, i’ll give you anything that you want.”

you tilt your head to the left and raise your brows. “you want to be my sugar daddy?”

nanami nods, chuckling at the look of sheer disbelief on your face on your face. “i’m missing the old part so i’m not exactly sure if i qualify . . . but yes, i do.”

you scoff at that. “. . . and you just want to see me, take me on dates, no sex?” did he think you were that naive? if there’s one thing you know for certain, it’s that nothing in this world is free —  everything has a price and in this case, your pussy would be the desired currency. you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. “i don’t believe that. what’s the catch?”

nanami supposes you aren’t wrong for thinking this way. it does sound far-fetched, especially from a stranger you met not even an hour ago. he wasn’t a liar or a perv, and he’d just have to make you see how serious he is. “there is no catch. i think you’re beautiful and i want to get to know you better. i understand that this may seem too good to be true but i promise you, my intentions are pure.”

nanami isn’t surprised when you don’t budge, eyes slanted as you glare him down. (and you look so adorable while doing it.) he expected this reaction from you and little did you know, he’s already one step ahead. if his words don’t move you, then he’s sure his actions will get the point across.

fishing for his wallet in his pocket, he pulls it out, handing you a five dollar bill, “this is for the cinnamon rolls and this,” he takes out a set of bills, hundred dollar bills and you watch him, mouth ajar as he counts off each one before placing it in your free hand. is he serious? “this is for your tuition and a little extra to spend. we’ll handle the ‘loans that have loans’ on our first date, alright?”

you’re speechless, eyes shifting between nanami’s face and the money in your hand as you try your best to process what’s happening before you. from joking about needing a sugar-daddy to having one in front of you. and the man wants to spend time with you, no sex required! you surely couldn’t doubt him now, not when he gave you the money without you actually agreeing. maybe this was the blessing from god you’d been waiting for.

you clear your throat, nodding dazedly. “a-alright, yeah . . . we can talk more on our first date.”

nanami smiles once more, glancing at his watch prior to picking up the paper bag off the counter. “as much as i want to stay with you, i have to get back to the office.” reaching into his pants pocket, he slides a laminated card on the counter. “my personal number is on this card. when you get a chance, call or send me a text. i’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

with a playful wink, nanami leaves the cafe — your eyes trailing his lithe frame until he turns a street corner, completely out of sight. it’s like you were frozen in place, the money still in your hands. when you finally decide to take a look at the business card he left, your jaw quite literally drops to the floor: this man is the coo of jujutsu, one of the biggest marketing companies in the country.

                                 kento nanami

                            chief operating officer

               jujutsu marketing and e-commerce, llc.

                                 xxx-xxx-xxxx

kento.nanami@gmail.com

now, you were definitely certain that god did indeed hear and answer your prayers. in more ways than one.

tagging: @sttoru @screampied @thebimbopalace @tojancy

© shaguro, 2023 - do not plagiarise nor repost anything on any other platform.

[zweiginator]

omg escort!reader and divorced!art is so well written you are an artist… i need to know what happens when she gets back from hiatus🫢 maybe she is taught to not reveal too much personal stuff but art is just so desperate and lonely that she caves… maybe she gives him the most intimate and passionate blowjob of his life and he’s so pathetic because he hadn’t gotten his dick sucked in like two years and it’s so good that maaaaybe he cries a little…

art calls one more time, exactly a week after his first one. he asks politely to the woman on the other end, your boss--is she back yet?

and just by the breathy desperation in art's voice, she knows who is calling. who he wants so badly.

"look--she'll give you a call when she comes back. i'm not sure when that is. you may hear from her before i even do. are you sure you don't want to book a session with another girl in the meantime?" she explains that there's another girl who looks a little like you.

"that won't be necessary." art takes a sip of his gin and tonic. "i'll wait for her."

she sighs, lets it go. tells art to have a good night and art wishes her the same. but his head sinks into the pillow, the bitter curl of gin still on his tongue and he wonders where you are.

three days later you come back. your boss had flagged you down when you came in to talk money with some of the other higher-ups.

"hey, a client of yours called a couple times while you were out."

you plunge the applicator of your lip gloss back into the sticky tube.

"really? who?"

"guy named art, i think he said. sounded like you really made a lasting impression."

art. of course you remember him. dirty blond hair with salted white strands around the crown of his head. sunken in eyes that turned boyish when he smiled, although the wrinkles around his eyes revealed wisdom, experience. the smell of musk and tobacco radiated from him like the cradle of his body heat.

"long time client?" she asks you.

"no. just once." it surprises you, that he cared so much to call.

"you must've made a good impression." she winks.

your heart sinks a bit when you remember how you forgot the money. that maybe he only called to urge you to pick it up, not wanting to be caught up on the bad side of a system like this one.

so you go to his hotel room. you remember art telling you he was taking a break from tennis, that he would be staying at that hotel down by the highway for as long as they'd let him.

and art is watching shitty reality television when he hears a knock. your knock. three open-palmed bangs and art is opening the door in an old t-shirt and cotton pajama bottoms. somehow, he looks even better than before.

"hi." a smile creeps up. a big one.

you blush and look down at your feet. that's so unlike you. "hi. im back."

"please, come in. i'm sorry." he ushers you inside and latches the door. "i was about to make a gin & tonic. you want one?"

"no, thank you. i heard you had called the service about me?" you sit on the desk chair across from the bed.

"yes--I" a pause, like he's trying to really gather himself. "i'm sorry if that was inappropriate. you forgot the money and--I just really wanted to see you again. if i'm being completely honest."

you try to hide how your face contorts, disappointment as art mentions the forgotten cash, bliss as he admits the calls were to ask for you.

"here i am." you scoot forward. "not inappropriate. i promise, you're much more respectful than most of the callers we get."

art asks to cradle you in his lap again and you oblige. you like to feel small with him, and he likes to feel strong and protective and push your hair away from your forehead to kiss you there. it all feels so much more intimate than sex could ever be.

"have you been feeling any better?" you ask art.

he ponders, and then nods. "yes, actually. since meeting you ive felt better."

"good. that's good." you latch your lips under his ear. "i thought about you while i was away."

blood rushes to arts face. "really? in what way?"

"i didn't pleasure you at all."

art pulls your face close to yours. stares at your lips and the dip of your cupids bow.

"you did pleasure me."

one of his hands cradles your head, the other resting on the top of your thigh. you grab him, making his fingers trace up your torso, your throat. and then you suck his fingers into your mouth. you swirl your tongue and let the spit drool out of you and make a mess.

for the first time, art groans. it's guttural and surprises you. the both of you. because it came out involuntarily, a dormant beast that the warmth of your tongue pulled out, inch by inch.

a twitch under your ass. he's hard. but the skin of his fingers is so, so soft. regardless of the callouses on his palms from tennis rackets.

"i want to make you cum."

this vocabulary. this depth of conversation, of laying each other out in the open and digesting stories and vulnerabilities is not your job. using such straightforward verbiage is not your job. your job is to be pretty and be used and be paid for it.

but this isn't your job right now. because art never paid you, and you still haven't brought up the $800, although you saw it in an envelope with your name in small, capital letters, blue ink.

you're not his escort. no, right now you're his lover.

art tilts your chin up. "do whatever you want to me. even if it hurts me, i'll want it."

and god, he's so fucking ridiculous with those puppy dog eyes and furrowed eyebrows. pathetic but in a way that made you want him to use you even more. but he won't.

you untie his pajama bottoms.

"do you want me to make you cum?" you yank them down, along with his boxers.

"yes. fuck. yes." his erection slaps his stomach and he's long. pink and wet with pre-cum; it looks just as pathetic and needy as he does.

you wrap your hand around him.

"pretty, pretty cock." you stroke him, pretty painted nails wrapped around the length of him. "so hard. god, i bet it feels so good to be touched like this."

it does. god, it does. but art can't speak. his mouth hangs open because you're touching him like it means the world to you to do so. so, so, slow. intentional how you feel the ridges of him.

he closes his eyes, just for a second. but then he misses seeing your face, how it mirrors yours in terms of pleasure, even though he isn't touching you at all.

his eyes open to see a glob of spit falling from your lips as you stare at him. his micro-expressions. he nods.

"do you want me to get it nice and wet for you?"

you already have, bubbly spit warming his cock so nicely.

"yes. please--"

the sounds of you touching him are louder now. he hasn't been touched like this in so long he feels like he may just cum right now. spill into your hands and apologize profusely. tell you he isn't usually like this.

but then he feels your lips. a soft kiss to his tip and he groans. instinctively grabs your hair and you open your mouth all the way for him.

"fuck my throat." you say it so sweetly, his erection still in your hand, ghosting over your mouth. tempting him.

"i dont want to hurt you."

you bat your eyelashes. "fucking doesn't necessarily mean fast or hard. fuck me how you want to."

he wants to worship you. he wants to feel you from the inside out. but he'll take this.

he holds the back of your head and tells you to tap out if you're in pain. as if he forgot the nature of why you're here. you kind of have.

you nod and you're drooling for him. over a year of doing this and you've never felt your heart beat so assuredly. knowing that you want him more than it's healthy too. that this is more than a contract between seller and buyer.

he pushes in. slowly, inch by inch and your eyes water. he holds your hand tightly and you squeeze him back. you're completely still. you trust him all the way as he fucks your throat slowly. his spongy head hits the very back of your throat and every movement makes art whimper, moan, swear. it makes you wetter than his hands being all over you. just pleasing him. he deserves it and so much more.

"fuck--you look so pretty. taking all of me. want you to take everything i fuckin' have--"

his hips stop moving, they stutter. and you pull off him, opting to do all the work yourself. it's messy; spit drips between his thighs and you kiss his shaft up and down. kitten lick him, worship him. softly stroke him and tell him you want him to cum, you want him, you want him.

it's not a lie, but art wouldn't care if it were. hearing the words makes him cry, makes him finish, makes him pull you onto his lap as he's still coming down. to hold you close. you wipe his tears and stay all night.

[toxicanonymity]

busted (jailbird one shot)

2.5k WORDS, JOEL "JOJO" MILLER x f!READER SUMMARY: You roleplay as cop and sex worker. WARNINGS: I8+, no plot just smut, roleplay, manhandling, handcuffs, bj, unsafe PIV, creampie, fluff. writer chooses not to warn in further detail, read at your own risk. Read alone or see jailbird masterlist for relationship & reader history. NOTES: On hiatus, but this has been in my tumblr drafts since 3/20. Ty for the ask. They've both served time. This happens while Joel's aunt/your former cellmate is still locked up. Ty again to everyone who made me write cellmate's nephew (history) 💀. Divider by @saradika-graphics. @toxicfics for notifications.

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You sit on Joel’s bed alone, wearing a short skirt, a lace bra, and fishnet stockings he already ripped wide open the last time you wore them. You finish lacing up your boots, tuck a wad of cash into your bra, and get a tictac mint from your purse. Then you put on the bag and close the bedroom door behind you as you leave. 

As you walk into the living room, the front door opens. You realize you’re holding your breath and feel silly. Your heart skips a beat when he steps through the door. 

He pauses long enough for you to take in his whole form. . .tattooed arms swelling out from the sleeves of his slutty, blue uniform. Your eyes fall to his crotch as he turns to face you. The tight polyester pants leave little to the imagination. The whole, massive outline is visible atop his thigh, straining the fabric. He smooths his mustache and tilts his head, checking you out. Then he keeps a straight face as he steps toward you and says,

“‘S’cuse me, miss. Can I see some ID?”

Your heart flutters. You’ve played the part so many times. Played lots of parts. You're used to being who the client needs. But here you are with a little stage fright in front of your boo. And Jesus Christ, there’s something about his prison tattoos bursting out of that uniform. 

You stand still in the middle of the room and he slowly paces around you. A few feet away, but close enough to smell the cigarette he must have enjoyed outside and the cologne he reserves for date nights. The sight and smell of him makes you tingle. His touch might make you physically swoon. He clears his throat, and your face heats up. You lock eyes with him, and there’s a sparkle in his gaze, but he manages to hold firm, not breaking. 

“I, um – I have it somewhere.” You rifle through your bag.

“What’s that in your brassiere, ma’am?” He takes a baton off his hip and gestures to your bra cup. Your chest is lightly dusted in a caramel flavored shimmer powder.  

“Oh,” you stammer, looking away.  “I dunno why I put this here when I have a purse,” you mutter, half out of character.

“Just what I was thinkin’,” he cocks an eyebrow at you. He begins to stalk around you again, getting a little closer with each step, closing in on you. Then, he holsters his baton and stands behind your back, close enough to feel his body heat. You turn your face to the side and his scent wraps around you. 

His hardness lightly grazes you, and you push your ass back instinctively. His left hand comes to your hip as his right hand snakes around your torso.  His voice is deep and gruff.

“I’m thinkin’ this is dirty money.”

He trails his fingers slowly up your sternum, then over the curve of your left breast to your black push-up bra. You watch the faded barbed wire flex on his hand as he slides two fingers into the bra cup, retrieving the cash. He lowers his volume and his lips brush the shell of our ear. “Real dirty, honey.” 

“It’s nothing,” you shake your head, getting into a better rhythm. 

“Lemme take this off your hands,” he offers and lifts the strap of your purse off your shoulder. He stuffs the cash in it and tosses the purse to Mabel’s easychair. The tictacs rattle as it lands. He returns behind you, and this time, both hands go to your hips.

“I’m thinkin’ we can work somethin’ out,” he murmurs. His hands meander up your sides, then back down. He holds onto your hips and pulls you back against him, lightly grinding his hard length against your skirt, making you throb. 

“Fuck, Jo,” you whine in a whisper, pushing back on him like you shouldn't be. He exhales what you're pretty sure is a laugh. You can picture his smile. You're not ready to throw in the towel on this scene. You compose yourself and ask, “What are you doing?” You step forward, away from him, then turn around with a glare. 

He slowly rubs his arousal and adjusts himself. Then he puts his hands on his hips and shifts his weight. He looks you up and down, slowly shakes his head, and clucks his tongue.  

“Y’know, I didn’t wanna have to do this.”  He reaches behind his back for his cuffs, and you head for the door. 

He grabs you by the arm, and you continue to pull away. 

“No,” you protest emptily, tingling at the thought of him getting rougher.

He wraps a strong arm around you and you keep squirming. He lets you pull away toward the door until you’re up against it. He presses his weight against you with a forearm on your upper back and warns, “Resisting arrest?” 

He wrangles your arms behind your back, and the cold metal edge makes you shiver as your first wrist is cuffed. The second cuff clicks into place and he tightens them. Your cuffed hands desperately feel around the front of his pants, and he shifts his hips to help you find what you're looking for. You softly moan when your palm meets the hard length in his pants. 

“So now ya wanna be good,” he taunts, then lets out a barely audible grunt, pressing his hips forward, arousal swelling against your palm.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, officer.” He takes your hands and puts them on your mid back, and you keep them there. He yanks the whole skirt up over your ass in one go, watching your ass drop, fishnet diamonds stretched over it. His hips push forward and his hardness makes you throb. 

“Spread’em,” he commands. 

You widen your stance. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs, then wedges a hand between you and the door. Your palms rest on his tummy as he shoves his hand between your legs and feels how wet you are through the pre-ruined fishnets. 

“Alright, let’s make a deal,” he growls, then cruelly takes his hand away without so much as putting half a finger in you. 

He grabs you by one arm and pulls you over to the sofa. “Knees,” he murmurs, and helps you down onto the carpet. He pats your head then sits down on the sofa with a sigh, manspreading. He splays his arms out on the back of the couch and looks at you affectionately for a moment before his face hardens again. He takes off his fake utility belt in a hurry. 

“Got five minutes to convince me not to take ya in,” he warns, "If ya can handle it." He lifts his hips, giving you a rush of arousal. He pulls at his uniform pants, and they snap open at the side. This must have been quite a hit all those years ago on stage. For you, he's not wearing anything under them. You glance at his hip tattoo. Yeah.

He frees his massive cock and wraps his hand around the clean shaven base. He squeezes it as he looks at you darkly. "Such a bad girl." He scoots toward the edge of the sofa. Your hands are still handcuffed behind your back, skirt still sitting up above your ass.

You lean forward, dip your head, and he feeds you his cock. You slurp the fat head into your mouth and he sighs, watching you with a softening scowl. "Fuck yeah," he breathes. His knees bracket you and help you balance with no use of your hands as you bob your head. He moans as you suck him. You stretch your jaw, sucking at the smooth, salty tip, then take a few inches into your mouth and hold it, feeling him throb. "God damn," he curses softly. You suck with the back of your throat and carefully take as much as you can, expertly swallowing his length. You take him so deep that your lips brush his shaved pubic skin, and your eyes prickle with tears.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Get up here.” 

You slowly let his cock out of your mouth, and a string of slobber falls away with it.

He grabs your arms and helps you stand. He could stand to be rougher about it. But he's all but abandoning character, overtaken by the way you make him feel. The real you.

He helps you balance as you kneel onto the sofa, straddling him with your thighs spread wide. His breaths are heavy and getting heavier as he eyes your tits and the front closure of your bra. 

He sits up straight. He wraps an arm around you and interlaces his fingers with one of your cuffed hands. "Doin' so good, baby." With his other hand, he swiftly unhooks the front clasp of your bra, and the cups break apart, letting your tits fall out.  He takes a nipple into his mouth, then passionately licks and kisses his way up to your mouth. He palms one breast as he sucks the other and holds your hand behind your back. He pulls you right against him so your clit presses against his warm, hard cock and it makes him moan against your breast as he throbs against you.

He moves you, grinding his cock on your clit. He kisses your breast again, then drags his nose up your chest and feverishy kisses you everywhere on his way to your neck, where he sucks you long and slow. He lets go of your hand and slides his hand down, reaching under your ass to your cunt, where he slides his fingers through your slick then spreads you open for him.

He maneuvers you up to get clearance for his cock. He runs the tip through your slick, then massages your clit with it before notching at your entrance. You twitch at the contact, then begin to sink onto him and he pulls you down with a grunt.

"That's my girl," he breathes.

His lips find yours, and the kiss is long and slow with him seated fully inside you. He moves you on his cock, and his hips roll under you at a slow rhythm, stretching you with his girth, making you twitch already. You break the kiss with a moan.

You look down between your bodies, then purr, “is it hot in here, officer?” 

“God you're fuckin’ hot,” he gushes with urgency.  He reaches in his shirt pocket for the key to the handcuffs and wraps his arms around you. His cock twitches and he fumbles around as he uncuffs you. You rip open his snap button uniform top, then cradle his face and your lips smash back together and his tongue finds yours. He pulls you close. Your tits press into his chest and you moan into his mouth as you roll your hips.

You sigh and curse and moan against each other's mouths as you ride him.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes. “I coulda came soon as ya—fuck–the way you were clawin’ around for my cock just to feel it—ohhhh.”

He playfully plucks at the fishnets then kneads your ass as you fuck. He lets you take the lead, sliding his hands down to your legs, then your boots. He sighs, "Ohh, baby," as you ride him.

“Yeah,” you breathe, feeling sharply on the edge already, with his cock inside you and the ghost of it pressed up against you through those pants. 

“Ohh, fuck,” he pants, “yeah.” His flesh fills yours so perfectly, stretching you around him. Your body wetly hugs his length as he smoothly thrusts up into you. He growls into your neck, “I can't get enough’a ya.” You card your fingers through his hair. 

“God you feel good,” you gush. “So fucking good. He’s kissing your neck wet and sloppy now. You both breathe audibly. "God, I love this cock," you pant. Your breath is shallow with your pending peak. You grind against him, then let it overtake you. “Fuck,” you breathe as your walls flutter around him. 

He groans as you come on his cock.  As you finish your peak, he’s clearly holding back. You look down at his inked torso glistening. 

You both watch where your bodies meet, and you tell him, “i want you to come.”

“c'mere” he takes your jaw in one hand, and brings your lips back to his. He holds you tight, kissing you for a few thrusts, then his lips fall apart to moan and breathe vocally as he fucks you.

He pulses inside, pinching his eyes shut. He groans into your cheek, and you finger his curls as he pumps you full. Then you relax into his arms.

-

You share a long moment without words, and he holds your head. Then he uses his chest to push you slightly off him. He looks you in the eyes, then does a double take down to your tits and dips his head to kiss one before returning his attention to your face. 

You're still on his cock, and the stretch persists even as he slowly softens.

He looks back and forth between your eyes and blurts out, “you should move in.” 

You laugh in shock. 

“‘m’serious, baby,” he says with a smile. You bite away another laugh and his smile fades. He whispers, “Dead serious.”

He pulls you in for a kiss, then breaks away to await your answer. 

You haven't thought about it, really. Not yet, anyway. But it doesn't feel out of the question. You glance over to Mabel’s chair. 

“She knows,” he assures you. It doesn't make a difference right now, but you pray she'll get paroled sooner rather than later. 

“Just think about it,” he offers. 

You nod and bite your lip, running your hand through his hair affectionately, still plugged by his cock. "Tempting," you smile.

“I'm a lucky man either way,” he says.

Your face heats up, and you reflexively lighten the conversation. “Why’d ya cuff me if ya wanted me on top,” you laugh.

“Hell if I know what I want,” he admits. He kisses your neck then murmurs, “Just want ya every which way all the time.”

thank you for reading, and thank you for your support. love you guys <333. my tag list is gone for real this time, sorry. I'm also on a break from writing & reading but had this in my drafts.

[dumplingsfordays]

the phone call

pairing - Megumi x fem!reader

genre - smut

summary - you call Megumi one night in hopes of changing your relationship from being best friends to lovers and it ends very unexpectedly.

cw!: nsfw (sexual themes), mutual masturbation, pet names (sweetheart, baby), bffs to lovers, reader has female genitalia, swearing, timeskip to all characters 18+, one (1) mention of voyeurism + hair pulling + tummy bulge

note - back (sorta?) from my hiatus but I won't post content as frequently. sorry to all you beautiful people who submitted asks 😭😭 I'll make sure to do those fics asap b/c y'all are honestly lovely and overall really respectful and I appreciate it! thank you sm for being patient w/ little old me <33

art credit!

and as always, thank you for reading :))

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Quiet sighs escaped Megumi's lips in tandem with the soft breeze outside, whistling against the glass windowpanes. Moonlight drifted across his fair cheek like a silvery veil, making his pale skin glow slightly, and his long eyelashes, a trait that wasn't his favorite but one that almost every girl constantly pointed out with jealousy, fluttered when they met the edge of the light. And then, in the peaceful summer night-

Bzzt. Bzzt.

The raven-haired man sat up in his bed with sudden urgency, hand moving quickly to his phone on the nightstand and picking up.

"Hey, 'Mimi," your sleepy, half-awake voice came from the speaker. "Sorry to bother you but it's kinda important."

Upon hearing your voice, he relaxes - he lays back down and stares at the blank, white ceiling. "Yeah?"

"Uhm, I just wanted to talk to you about something..."

God, your sleep-laced voice was so gentle, sweet, alluring, even. He couldn't help but sneak a hand towards his abdomen to lay it on his stomach.

"Hey, 'Mimi, you there?" You ask all of a sudden.

"Oh, uh, yeah, I'm listening, don't worry."

You must be at your desk working, then, he thought, since you're up this late. Wait, no -- he heard the shuffling of bedsheets or something similar a moment ago. That was you, right? Were you also in bed? Did you also have the ghost of a smile dancing on your lips? Was your hand also laid down on your abdomen? Was it slowly creeping further and further down, until-

He shakes his head, rousing himself from his thoughts.

God, Megumi, what the hell are you thinking? They're your best friend, nobody thinks about their best friend getting off!

...Well, something about that scene was... arousing, almost, to him. The mere thought of you, laying on silk bedsheets and rubbing your clit to his voice, sent a shiver up his spine and he snaked his hand under his boxers. Well, guess he was doing this.

"So, um..." you continued, sighing, "I was thinking. I know that it's probably too late into the night to even be discussing this, but..."

"Yeah?"

He lets out a small grunt afterwards as his fingers come into contact with the sensitive skin of the tip of his semi-erect length.

"...are you okay, 'Mimi? Are you working out or something?"

"Ah, no, I'm just..."

Just, you know, casually touching myself to the sound of your voice. Nothing wrong with that at all. There's definitely nothing wrong with jacking off to your best friend's voice.

"Just, um. Moving my, uh..." His eyes glance around the room and lock onto the bedside table. "My table."

There's a small lilt to your voice as you laugh softly and clear your throat before speaking, and Megumi swears that he just got lightheaded from the rush of blood to his nether region.

"Okay... I was just thinking about, well... this. Our friendship."

He tries not to sound too strained and breathy when he replies, starting to slowly move his fist up and down his leaking cock. "What about it?"

"Well, I think that, um.. you're a really nice person. And I really like you. And recently, I was thinking about what it would be like if we, um..."

You pause, biting your lip. Should you really finish your sentence? What if he takes it the wrong way?

"You can say it. I won't judge, y/n."

"Thank you..." you laugh briefly and breathlessly, fidgeting with the skin on your torso. His words were innocent, but it was the tone in which he was speaking that made your thighs twitch slightly and your mouth dry up. Christ, Megumi always made you feel things that you knew you shouldn't be feeling towards a friend who probably only liked you as one. "I, well... I was thinking that it would be nice if we hung out at some point. Maybe, like... go out on a date, or something... I understand if you don't like me in that way, or if you're too sleepy to decide yet, but I just wanted to put that out there..."

His eyes widen a bit as he hears the word "date", and he subconsciously tightens his grip around himself, Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows. So you were interested in him, too.

"I'd... I'd love to."

He forces down a quiet groan as he hears the pitch of your voice rise slightly in excitement. Unbeknownst to him, your hand slides down your lower abdomen, gliding across your upper thigh.

"R-really? You're not kidding or anything, right? I mean, like... please don't worry about making me feel good about myself or anything, just..."

You hear him laugh softly on the other end, which makes that spot between your legs throb even more intensely.

"Of course," Megumi replies, trying to sound as put-together as he can. "I won't lie to you about stuff like that."

Smiling, you sigh in relief and your hand comes into contact with your inner thigh. After a brief pause, he speaks up again, his voice a little deeper.

"So.. anything fun happen recently in your life? Any new books you've read, or interesting gossip you've heard?"

Your head tilts to the side as a scenario pops into your head at his words. Him, laying next to you, whispering into your ear as his fingers caress your--

"Nope..." you laugh, a little shakily due to the intrusive thought. "But there was this one thi--"

He makes a quiet noise of pleasure and you choke, your fingers finally touching your slick cunny and rubbing it gently.

"...M-Mimi, did you... are you...?"

"Christ, I'm sorry, I-- fuck. I'm sorry, y/n, I didn't-- God, I..." he sighs, regret clear in his tone as he apologizes. "You probably think I'm some creep or something now. Feel free to cancel the date, I don't deserve it anyway after all this."

You swallow and you feel your face redden in embarrassment before answering, whispering.

"Actually, I... I, um, I'm not mad. I-I'm doing the same."

"What?"

His reply is instantaneous, his voice a mix of nervousness, shock, surprise, with the undeniable tinge of arousal. You were going to be the death of him someday.

"I-I'm doing the same. I know it's weird, I..." you trail off, sighing. "I'm sorry too."

"Can we..."

Megumi's trembling all over now, his cock unfathomably hard and standing up at attention in his fist, which begins to pump up and down a little more rapidly. You can hear it very faintly from your phone and you practically gush at the sound.

"...can we, um... keep doing this? And talking? I just... I think that since you're interested in me and I in you, we can satisfy our urges, I guess..."

"Please," you shiver, voice getting softer and more desperate as he talks.

"Fu-uck..." he groans out, biting his lip and looking down at himself. He decides to finally remove his boxers and strokes himself under the blanket, leaning into his phone's microphone as he pants softly.

You, in your own bed, whimper at the expletive -- you knew his voice was attractive, but this? Him swearing, and in that rough yet pleading tone, too, made you unimaginably wet.

"Can you... can you describe it? Please?" you choke out, toes curling as your fingers press against your clit slightly.

You hear him groan at your words again before he replies.

"I-It's standing up real tall 'n warm, sweetheart... it's fucking throbbing, all for you... God, I just wanna bend you over and... shit... just shove my cock into your tight pussy..."

You moan quietly as you imagine the absolute filth of the scenario, how deep his thick cock'll reach inside you... he'll probably be thrusting into you so hard that people on the street will hear the rhythmic slaps of skin on skin from the window of your bedroom all the way up on the fifth floor. And, oh, God, what if he grabs your hair and pulls on it, twisting your back and pulling his face closer to yours to meet you in an intense kiss, teeth clacking and tongues intertwining in this passionate dance for control?

"You're gonna feel so good around me, baby... maybe clench as I play with your clit and press my hand to your stomach to feel that little dent of my cock... you're gonna feel so fucking warm and wet around me..." Megumi groans loudly as his hand does a particularly satisfying stroke around his length, smearing slightly sticky precum in his fist. "Christ, I can already imagine it... I'm so fucking close..."

"Me too," you cry out, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive skin and thighs quivering from the electrifying pleasure. "I'll feel so good, 'Mimi, so full..."

His fist travels up to his tip, continuing the up-and-down motion as he moans shakily. "y/n-- I-I'm gonna-- fuck, think I'm gonna come--"

You whimper in reply, toes curling and forearm flexing. At long last, that wave of heat crashes down on you both, him groaning shamelessly as thick cum spurts from the red tip and onto his fist, and you gasping for air, moaning as you reach your respective peaks. Your body trembles as you're thrown around mercilessly by your orgasm and he can tell very clearly by your voice -- it's high-pitched, desperate, and borderline wanton.

As you both calm down from your highs, the movements of your hands and arms gradually slowing down, you giggle breathlessly.

"This was... ah, certainly something..."

You hear his voice, deep and comforting as he chuckles, through your phone speaker.

"Indeed it was."

"...But we're still going on that date, right?"

Megumi laughs. "Obviously."

[if-whats-new]

Passings and Hiatus

Hi everyone!

Bex here. We have a very very sad message from the rest of the group which needed to shared.

Hi Everyone, This was not an easy post to write, but something that still should be communicated.

During the night of Sunday to Monday, Marjorie suffered an aneurysm. Unfortunately, she passed away before anything could be done.

Marjorie had been sick for a very long time, but her state deteriorated this year, and worsened during this summer. She had felt for a while she would probably not see many more milestones or even get to the end of the year, but she did her best to stay with us for as long as she could.

Marjorie strived to fill her days with happy moments and do things that made her happy, especially at the end. She wanted others to feel loved, appreciated, and seen, with her actions. In recent years, Interactive Fiction brought her a lot of joy (and sadness, and anger, etc...), and through it, she could connect with others - others who didn't see her in pain or sickly. IF had become her safe heaven when things were rough.

What's New in IF? would not have existed without Marjorie. Truly. She was the one who came up with the idea. She wanted to do something special, she told us, to bring some positive into the world, however she could. Marjorie was the one who hyped us up, and brought us on board. It was an electric time, and we stayed up deep into the night messing around to make... something with the idea. It wasn't well thought out, and we didn't realize what we were getting into, but she'd never been this excited about something in recent time.

So, she became the captain who steered this little ship of friends, connected through our appreciation of and love for the medium. But she wasn't just the idea person, she was down in the trenches, organizing it all, spearheading us on the right path, turned words into actions. When we needed some time, she would take over without a second's notice. She was always there, no matter what, at the ready.

She hoped, by her little idea and couple of hours of afflicting efforts, she was doing at least a little good for the community. She worried, often, that she wasn't doing enough, or doing it well enough, to give back the last of herself to the community who made those past years enjoyable for her. But not once did she want to pull that string publicly: she never wanted to take attention away from those who worked hard on their craft (her words). It mattered so much to her.

Through her and thanks to her, we learned so much. About ourselves and each other. And we shared with each other our appreciation for others, what we were passionate about, what we hoped for ourselves. She made us such better people, and we could never thank her enough for it.

Marjorie was first and foremost a loving daughter, a kind and attentive friend, and a passionate woman. Even with her failing health, she advocated for all who needed even a tiny bit support. She was a wonderful and compassionate soul, who always tried to see the best in people, but was never afraid to confront those who needed to face their mistakes. She forgave easily and loved even more.

Marjorie, you left behind a very quiet and empty space, and already are and always will be sorely missed.

- Noi, Axelle, and the rest of FMoDF Gang (Erika, Joss, Olive, Derek, Chaz)

As I'm sure you can all understand that this was a surprise for us and everyone who was close to Mrajorie, I think we can all say she was an amazing woman who invited me (Bex), Brij and Dion to help and create this wonderful Zine. We do wish to continue this on but we will be pausing this until at least the end of September until we can get our bearings and talk about future plans.

Let me assure you, this tumblr will stay and be available to keep a trace of her, the memories and support she gave everyone in the IF community.

If anyone is willing to help keep this zine and Marjorie's hard work alive please contact us here, COG, or in the comments

Until then RIP Marjorie, you were a shining star gone too soon.

[lyrinsluv]

4:17pm

timeskip! suna x [implied fem] reader

☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

wordcount: 929! :D 

author's note - sorry for my unannouced hiatus! i'll try to be back up and posting soon☆

you blink twice as your boyfriend calls for your name from the bathroom, causing your attention to shift from the television screen to his voice.

“babe, could you get my phone for me?” he asked from the bathroom. you sighed to yourself. you had reminded him over and over again to take his phone with him just because this wouldn't happen. you hear the shower running, knowing he would take one soon anyway. he did just come back from a strenuous practice, hence why you weren't so surprised. but a notification popped up at 4:17. 

‘your storage is almost full, would you like to buy more?’

huh, you knew he took pictures to have memories of your dates or save his sister's funny reels that she would send him. you didn't mind it, but really? rintarou suna needed more storage? the two of you were at that point in your relationship where privacy was still there, but it was okay if it was crossed. so you open the notification, punching in his passcode as you yell back, a little “coming!” even if the walk from the living room to the bathroom was less than thirty seconds. 

you raise an eyebrow at how organized everything was. the folders, all of them having their little names and.. one titled ‘pretty girl.’ 

huh?

he only called you that in the heat of the moment, the hushed whispers you two would shamelessly share in your bedroom, the soft pants and groans escaping his lips as he called you his pretty girl. you felt a hint of bashfulness fogging up your brain. 

i mean, yeah.. you always did tell him to record you so he wouldn't get too bored during his away games on the weekend, or whenever the volleyball season started up. the part that shocked you the most was how perfectly the folder was placed, so intricately hidden and naughty, all for himself. he hid the most vile, back-arching videos of you in between some sweet innocent pictures of you eating food or him making fun of you.  

“baby?” he yelled out. you snapped out of your daze, rushing to the bathroom. the one thing you told yourself to do was swipe out of the app, but you didn’t. once he saw it open: it was a secret he kept for himself, liking the little dirty lie they kept.

“sorry, rin.. the show was getting good.” you say as you hand him his phone. he raises his eyebrows slightly, looking at you.

“mm? really? m’gonna watch with you after.” he said in his usual voice as he placed a calm kiss on your forehead. 

“mkayyy,” you dragged out. you close the door behind him so he could hurry up. he looks down at his phone, his hand freezing as he saw the scene open in front of him. there was a smile resting on his lips as he saw looked down on his oh so dirty videos of you. huh, now he has blackmail to ask you for more. it was simple, the little video of you practically posing for the flashes of the camera while you showed your boyfriend just how much you missed him wasn’t enough. 

and he did just that – use you going through his phone as an excuse to get more out of you.

there he was, standing outside of the bathroom with a towel lazily hanging around his hips, shamelessly showing his toned v-line. you looked up at him as you paused your show, a soft smile on your lips. 

“rin! the girl finally remem–” you blink as you get cut off from him, a hint of confusion displayed on your face.

“pretty girl, come help me dry my hair.” he said, another towel hanging around his neck as he gestured for you to come close to him. you sighed to yourself as you stood up, grabbing the towel from his neck.

“..you cut me off, rin..” you mumble quietly as you intricately ruffle his hair with the white towel. he noticed you didn’t react to the pet name, making him want to say it again.

“m’sorry, pretty, tell me ‘bout the show,” he said gently. you looked into his eyes. ugh, you hated that tone so much because it made your stomach twist and turn like how it did on your first date together. 

“it's okay, rinnie..” you say as you press a kiss on his nose. 

“the girl finally remembered her boyfriend. and she broke her love triangle by going back to him.” you notice he wasn’t paying attention, a huff escaping your lips. 

“mm, sorry, baby. i’m listening. i just got a thing from my photos.” and at that, you shut up. why? simply put, the app never sent notifications unless anyone was on it for a minute or more. 

“oh.. um, why?” you ask sheepishly as you feel his hand rest on your hip in a boring manner, but his fingertips digging into your shirt say more. 

“..dunno. need to get more storage. you wouldn’t have an idea why, pretty?” he asked in a teasing tone. now, you realized you messed up. why? because when your boyfriend got like this, he made no haste to practically bully you into submission. so you canceled his whole blackmailing scheme and fessed up. 

“don't, rintarou. don't say what you're going to say,” you mumble in a timid-like manner. a sly, coy smile lays on his lips. 

“then let’s get to filming, my pretty girl.” 

[vxiphoid]

SERENE SHENANIGANS

❨ summary ❩ twst › waking them up to tell them stories that don’t make sense

tags ✧ fluff, crack, savanaclaw boys, defo not proofread its like 7 am, cursing but nothing out of the ordinary, ooc(?), ruggie calls you a little shit like once (affectionate), jack is whipped for you

amanuensis’ message ⊹ I LITERALLY LOVE DOING THIS??? my friends hate me for it. but anyways hiii im back after like my month hiatus, how are thy sleeplings?😋 mb guys writers block has been really kicking my ass, i was spitting blanks on paper… i’m gonna hopefully post another pastry emporium soon for scarabia so stay tuned for that‼️

⌜ 300+ e/chara ⌟

♫ sunset boulevard - hohyun

twst masterlist

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

— “leona… pspsps….”

— he hums gruffly when his name was called the first time, only opening his eye thinking you called him a second time when it was really just noise that you would make to get the attention of a house cat. he instantly pins his ears back. how dare you. “hmm?”

— “so i took our snail for a walk and i had accidentally left my feet here to wash the dishes because the grass was blue.”

— huh? you could see him trying to process everything you just said as you explained, his lips parting and eyebrows furrowing. it took everything in you not to laugh. he does one of those blinks, the really delayed ones, one eye opens before the other…

— he’s half asleep too so the confusion is just adding up altogether. if chicken scratch wasn’t a writing term, this is literally it in words. its like the books back at home he picks up to read (derogatory) its, what, 4 am? dont do this to him😭

— you’ve never seen him so expressive💀 this definitely makes his eye and ear twitch at the same time. what type of fucked up fever dream is this?? its usually a blessing seeing you as the first thing he wakes up to, not when you wake him up with some bull strung up in a sentence with your beady eyes staring at him while he sleeps. he loves you, yes, but what does he even say to this…

— “what…”

— your forehead met with his chest as you struggled not to laugh at the uncharacteristic break in leona’s voice. how many cups of coffee did you drink? he asks you to repeat yourself even though it kinda a mind mush decision so you did and by the end of it, he looks absolutely restless.

— “that’s… yes. that’s great, herbivore. can we go to bed now?”

— you note that leona is surprisingly patient when half asleep

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

JACK HOWL

— deep sleeper. tug his ear. though he practically springs up before your hand makes contact, giving himself whiplash.

— “jack?”

— almost instantly relaxes when he realizes its you, tail wagging subtly☹️ “hi, baby. s’something wrong?”

— “hiii, do you remember a year ahead ago when i had to go to the dentist to get my spine fixed and the cats were barking at the flying dogs because the sky was in the water?”

— bro feels like he just had a stroke💀 he’s blinking rapidly, rubbing nose bridge as you explain. he really wants to understand, he does, but wtf did you just say??? it was the innocent “hi” before you unapologetically bashed his head in with the entire dictionary. its so ridiculous he couldn’t help but laugh.

— “jack, this is serious.” even as you told him that, your voice was not steady at all which made his shoulders shake violently in silent laughter.

— “im listening, i swear. tell me one more time?” yk his ass is not listening. he pulls you into his lap while his thumbs idly rubbed your sides, responding to your stories with “uh-huh” and “yeah?” with a lovesick smile on his face.

— eventually holds your face and starts pressing heart squeezing, fluffy kisses all over your face which truly made you more tired then you were. you honestly start forgetting what and where the story was going.

— jack only pauses his kissing attack to respond when you take a small break but even then he doesn’t pull away fully, he’s just speaking against your skin

— “—and the duck had my arm while i was taking it on a walk because gran tammy was in a flying shopping cart.”

— “oh wow. and then?”

— he’s listening but he’s not, mostly because he’s like two seconds away from dreamland and his brain isn’t registering half the shit you’re saying. he wants to see how many stories you can jumble up.

— “yeah, i think it’s bedtime for us…”

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

RUGGIE BUCCHI

— omfg he wakes up like a mom. like yk how you would barely touch them and they would gasp like they were just given cpr?? he wakes up like that.

— and you’re just standing there awkwardly 👁️👁️

— takes a quick look around before looking at you. “what happened? is it time to wake up leona already?” you shake your head and ruggie flops back, an arm draped over his eyes. “you scared me… come, lay down with me?” he held his free arm out for you and you did take your place cozied up against his side. to your surprise, you did actually scare the living shit out of him from how fast his heart was racing.

— “ruggie, yk i just found out you’re related to turtles, right? and i had to take uncle bobby to the vet to get a dna test because the fish drowned in air.”

— slow roblox turn towards you but instead its his head as he cranes it down to stare at you. you can practically hear the gears in his head turning and you literally could not look at him or you’d blow your cover.🧍🏾

— “i’m sorry,, what the fuck??”

— he’s genuinely confused, asking you questions about your story while his brain tries to put together the pieces. each question he asks, the more its harder to speak in full sentences other than wheezes

— “what are you laughing at, ya little shit? explain this to me!”

— “i’m trying!”

— and you are😭 its like when you have to explain the family tree really slow bc you cant say, “my father’s girlfriend’s son” without him like ???? and you’re trying to explain it to him slowly, eventually forgetting what you said in the first place…

— “…and the fish drowned in air.”

— “yes.”

— “sweetheart, you still haven’t explained how i’m related to turtles—”

[joequiinn]

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 7

[chap six] | [all chapters here] | [chapter eight]

summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

notes & tropes: fem reader, slow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

a/n: Sooo, I did not mean to take a three week hiatus from this fic :) I had so much of this chapter written within a couple of days and then abruptly stopped writing entirely, literally couldn't work on any of my stories. But now the writers block has passed and we FINALLY have an update, and boy these chapters just keep getting longer as the story goes on. I hope this one makes up from my recent absence~

wc: 6.6k

Chapter Seven

Wednesday morning was supposed to start like it always did - small talk with your mom over a bowl of cereal and then running out the door before the conversation whittled down to awkwardness. You wish you could appreciate your mother’s efforts to try to connect with you, but she never asked about anything beyond school and skating - once those two subjects were exhausted, it was as if you two had nothing more to talk about.

But today was different. Today, your dad was actually sitting at the breakfast table instead of rushing to his office before you even came downstairs. Today, your head was a little fuzzy from drinking the night before. Today, you wished you had just run out the door and skipped breakfast, because you could see right away that your parents wanted to have a conversation.

You paused briefly in the kitchen entry, looking between the two before trying to act casual, walking towards the pantry and preparing a quick breakfast. You could feel their eyes following you, and damn did you wish someone would just say something. Your father always acted like this before a serious conversation - he stayed silent to intimidate you, to put you on edge in hopes that it would make you more pliable to what he had to say. You’d always assumed he did this to clients and business associates as well, as if to suggest some kind of dominance over them. Well, you weren’t going to let it get to you that easily, you never did before.

You sat at the opposite end of the table from your father, your mom hovering at the kitchen sink although there were no dishes to be cleaned. You started to eat as if you were totally unphased by their watchful eyes, as if you were entirely oblivious to their stares, although you knew neither of them bought the act for a second. One of you was going to cave eventually, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be you.

Sure enough, your mom spoke first as she approached the table, just like you expected her to, “You have practice after school today?”

You gave her a critical look before nodding - you knew that she knew you always skated on Wednesday, making that a pretty pathetic attempt at breaking the tension in the room.

“Are you actually going?” Your father asked in an accusatory tone, although he maintained a neutral expression so as not to give away what he was thinking.

You couldn’t help the mean look in your eyes as you met his intense gaze. Your tone was stubborn and cold, “Yes.”

“And will that boy be there?” The disdain in your father’s words was clear as day. Your brow knotted at the question, both because you didn’t like his tone and because you wondered how he found out about Eddie already.

“Boy?” Your tone was mocking - you weren’t feigning ignorance, but rather presenting your father with a challenge, daring him to elaborate on what had gotten his mood so twisted. And it was clear in his face that he didn’t appreciate your attitude one bit.

“Mrs. Redford saw you two together on Friday.” Your mother chimed in, hoping to serve as the calm mediary considering that you and your father were both intense, mean people.

Of course it was Mrs. Redford who told your mom about Eddie - she was such a damn gossip, and with her daughter participating in your skating lessons, you should have known she would have noticed you leaving with Eddie that night. She was drawn to drama and gossip as if it was the air she breathed, so it was certainly no surprise that she ran off to tell your parents about this new boy that she spotted you with.

“Why does it matter?” You dropped your spoon in the forgotten breakfast that sat in front of you, slouching into your seat in growing frustration.

“Because he’s clearly a troublemaker.” Your dad’s tone matched yours, causing you to roll your eyes, “Don’t you dare roll your eyes at me.”

Your jaw clenched at the threat in his voice, “How could you possibly know someone is trouble without even meeting them?”

Your father pressed his palm to the table firmly, “Because I know his type - a lazy punk only interested in skating by and disrespecting the establishment. I’m a good judge of character.”

“How?” You insisted with exasperation, causing your father to look down on you as if you were some stupid kid.

“You were out way past curfew last night - were you with him?” Your dad glowered, and evidently your expression gave him the answer he wanted, “You ran out the door without telling your mother where you were going or who you were with. She saw you climb into some van, for Christ sake. And the way Mrs. Redford described this hoodlum? The leather, the hair, the tattoos? What’s gotten into you?”

You held your ground firmly, glaring as you crossed your arms, “I don’t see what the issue is.”

“The issue is you’re acting out, you’re avoiding us, and this boy you’re seeing seems to be encouraging this behavior!” Your father raised his voice, “I don’t care that you’re eighteen now, you still live under my roof.”

“You don’t care about anything!” You can’t help but shout back, “You only care now because you’re worried I’ll make you look bad. You’re worried about stupid gossip!”

“That’s not what this is about!”

“We’re just worried about you,” Your mother tried to intervene in an even tone, drawing the attention of the both of you, “We don’t want you to lose sight of what’s important just because of a boy.”

You throw up your hands in defiance, your voice harsh, “What important things am I ‘losing sight of!?’”

“Don’t take that tone with your mother!” Your dad jumped back in, “The last thing you need your senior year is some punk distracting you from school, from skating. You need to consider your future. Don’t you want to get into a good school? Don’t you want to skate?”

“I don’t know what I want!” You admitted angrily, “Maybe I don’t want to go to college or skate or do the shit you tell me to! Maybe I just want to enjoy life a little.”

“Enjoying life doesn’t get you anywhere.” Your father glared, “We tell you these things to help you. So, stop hanging around this boy and start focusing on your future.”

“You didn’t care what I was doing before, why do you care now?” You challenged coldly, “You didn’t care when I was out late with Duncan, you didn’t care when I’d miss practice because I’d be out with Amelia or Janet. You only care now because it’s Eddie.”

You instantly realized you shouldn’t have mentioned his name. Not yet, at least, not in the middle of this argument. Yes, you wanted your parents to know you were “dating” some new, troublesome guy, but you didn’t want them to actually know who he was yet - you had hoped to build up a little more suspense first, a little more tension between you all. You hoped your face didn’t give away what you were thinking.

“Eddie?” Your father laughed as he said the name, “You call things off with this Eddie now, do you hear me?”

You looked between your parents’ faces - your father looked as stern and condescending as ever, and your mom looked like she was away somewhere in thought. Perhaps she was trying to pinpoint any Eddies she’d heard of before and figure out who the hell he is.

A frustrated sound leapt from your throat as you rose to your feet aggressively, the legs of your chair making a grating sound on the floor.

“Whatever,” You spun around to leave, seeing the time on the wall clock before shooting your parents a mocking look, “I’m going to be late. Great job getting me back on track.”

You knew just how rude your tone was, so you practically ran out of the kitchen to avoid your father’s wrath.

“Excuse me!?” His offended voice shouted after you. You scooped up your school bag and your car keys, running out the door without looking back.

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Just like you suspected, you were late for your first period class, receiving a reprimanding from your teacher, which only served to piss you off even more. Today just wasn’t your fucking day. So, by the time you walked into your math class a couple hours later, it was actually something of a relief to see Eddie already there; why you were actually pleased to see him was a thought you weren’t quite ready to entertain.

He grinned once he spotted you, but the way you flopped into your seat caused his face to immediately twist with curiosity. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his legs situated in the aisle between you two.

“Feeling hungover, princess?” He asked with only a small jest in his tone, as if he could tell that you weren’t in the mood right now. His eyebrows furrowed together as you glared, although you knew he wasn’t the one that deserved the cold look.

“No.” You groaned, your jaw clenched tight enough to hurt your teeth. You sighed through your nose, trying to collect yourself - it was stupid to let this frustration eat at you, although you were always prone to holding onto grudges.

Eddie nudged your knee softly, so you met his eyes again. He stared at you patiently and inquisitively, “So, what’s wrong?”

You considered for a moment whether or not you wanted to tell him. With a sigh, you sat up in your seat, turning so that you mirrored Eddie, legs in the aisle and knees brushing his. You let your knees rest there, allowing the small amount of contact as if you needed it to ground you, as if you even enjoyed it.

“It’s my parents.” You start, looking down at where your knees met his. Your skirt was short and his jeans were ripped, so you were skin-to-skin. It didn’t matter, of course, you were simply trying to find something else to focus on, “They aren’t thrilled about you.”

“Oh, so you told them?” Eddie gave you a small grin, hoping to lighten your mood a little. And you wouldn’t admit it, but it was already beginning to work.

“One of my neighbors saw us together.” The bell rang in the middle of your sentence, but neither of you faced forward, eyes staying locked on one another.

“You seem pretty worked up about it.” His quiet tone had a hint of question to it, clearly wondering what exactly happened with your parents. Your teacher began going down the attendance sheet and the focus of today’s lesson.

“My dad’s a dick.” You responded in a whisper, “Just grilling me about shit - about you - as if I were a damn criminal or something.”

The sound of your name on your teacher’s lips drew your attention, and you harshly met her stare, “Would you two like to join the class now?”

You rolled your eyes as Eddie smiled lazily, the both of you turning to face forward. He reached out to give your knee one more playful nudge, as if to assure you that all would be well.

As the teacher began her lesson, you and Eddie kept stealing glances at one another conspiratorially, which helped to slowly ease the tension in your shoulders, to slowly relax your mood. After another couple of minutes, Eddie held a folded piece of paper between the two of you, obviously intending for you to read it. You slyly took it from him, fingers brushing against his as you wondered what he possibly had to say right now.

I think I can win him over.

The silly little doodle accompanying the note emphasized the joke, and you couldn’t help but grin at it just a little. You side-eyed Eddie, catching the way he smiled mischievously at you. With a roll of your eyes, you scribbled down a reply and handed it to him.

All the charm in the world wouldn’t win him over.

You watched Eddie’s face out of the corner of your eye, awaiting his reply with a hint of eagerness. The note was back in your hand once again.

So you admit I’m charming?

A small huff of a laugh escaped you as you rolled your eyes, beginning to write a response. But a presence walking down the aisle drew your attention, noticing your teacher was walking right to you. Your stomach dropped a little, realizing you were caught, but you simply looked up at her as if you did nothing wrong.

“Is there something you two would like to share with everyone?” She asked accusatory, crossing her arms in reprimand. You held her eyes with a challenging stare - god, this day just kept giving you hit after hit.

“Nothing in particular.” You retorted, hearing someone in the room make a nonplussed sound. Your teacher glowered at your attitude.

“Then I suggest you follow along or take this little conversation to detention.”

You gave her a mean, mocking smile, baring your teeth almost as if it was a threat, “I’ll take the detention, please.”

Again, more surprised sounds from the teacher and from students. You dared to look over at Eddie, who looked both taken aback and impressed at how difficult you were being today.

“Excuse me?” Your teacher challenged you.

Your eyes were dark as you stood your ground, “Detention. Please.”

The teacher looked between both you and Eddie with a huff, but a moment later a decisive look crossed her features, which put you on edge.

“Fine, if that’s how you want it to be. You can go to detention. Mr. Munson will stay here.” You gaped, your eyes glaring at the back of her head as she turned to walk back towards her desk, “No point in sending the both of you, right?”

You hated the fact that even your teacher was now mocking you, resented the fact that this day just kept piling more shit on your shoulders. You shared a look with Eddie, who looked sorry for landing you in trouble; you thought that you should’ve been upset at him for it, but you weren’t. It seemed like Eddie was the only person not getting on your last nerve today.

You rose to your feet as your teacher walked back towards you, a slip of paper in her hand outstretched to you. Haphazardly, you threw all your belongings in your bag before aggressively snatching the note from your teacher.

“You give that to the detention attendant, I don’t want to hear that you ran out on it.” She instructed with that hint of satisfaction in her tone. You glowered back at her.

“Bite me.” You spun on your heels as various students made, yet again, sounds of excitement at the harsh tone and words you threw at the teacher. As she started spewing some kind of reprimand that you weren’t listening to, you marched out of the room.

What a fucking day. You stomped down the hall, steam practically coming from your ears with how pissed off you were. In annoyance, you balled up the detention slip and tossed it at the nearest trash can, although you missed, which irritated you even more.

You’d never gotten detention before. Under different circumstances, you probably would have been thrilled to be sent to detention, to finally be enough trouble for a teacher to send you off. But after the morning you’ve been having, all you could feel was frustration.

Less than a minute after you stomped out of math class, you heard a door swing open and hit a wall somewhere behind you, prompting you to turn towards the noise. And once you saw who it was, you couldn’t help but smile with a surprising sense of glee.

Eddie Munson, your knight in shining armor.

He dashed down the hall to catch up with you, smiling just as widely as you were as he practically skidded to a halt in front of you. A small laugh escaped you as he hunched over in an attempt to catch his breath. He looked up at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“Let’s get out of here.” He instructed simply, grabbing your wrist and dragging you down the hall with him. You allowed yourself to be led through the school, your smile settling into a simple, pleased smirk, relieved to have Eddie’s company.

“And where are we off to?” You asked, receiving a shrug from Eddie. Once you two had turned into a new hallway, he slowed so you could walk side-by-side, experimentally sliding his hand into yours. Once again, you still felt hesitant at more intimate contact such as this, but you allowed it without cringing too hard.

“Anywhere but here, you troublemaker.” He teased with a content smile, guiding you towards the school exit.

“So, we’re skipping?” You inquired, and you had to admit the idea really appealed to you right now - you’d had enough of today, and if you didn’t escape you thought you might explode with utter frustration.

“If that’s alright with you, princess.” Eddie gave you a silly expression while bumping your shoulder.

“Please get me the hell out of here.”

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The most time you’d ever spent in a video arcade was for one pathetic round of Galaga while on a date with a boy your freshman year. Following that, you decided arcades weren’t for you - they were always crowded with a bunch of kids running around and shouting, and you’d branded all the adults that spent time at arcades as total losers. What could possibly be so appealing about games designed for children?

So, when Eddie pulled up in front of the Palace Arcade, you gave him a critical look, which he chose to ignore entirely as he stepped out of the van. He rounded to your side and opened the door, offering you a hand like a royal stepping out of a coach. You looked between his hand and his face for a moment, still judging the choice to come to an arcade. Reading the look on your face all too well, Eddie pulled his own affronted expression.

“What, too good for arcade games?” He put on an over-the-top, almost Shakespearean tone while placing a melodramatic hand to his chest, “But I’ve brought you to the Palace, the finest establishment in town for the ice princess.”

You rolled your eyes and tried not to laugh at him, unwilling to admit that even Eddie’s dumbest jokes were starting to win you over. Nonetheless, you took his outstretched hand with a large sigh, stepping out of the van despite your lack of interest in this place. Eddie, of course, smiled triumphantly, closing the door behind you and leading you into the arcade.

Given that it was only about noon, the place was virtually dead, which was quite the relief - no need to worry about loud, annoying kids getting in the way. Aside from the two of you and the Palace employee, there was a group of three college-aged boys clustered around Frogger and a lone man focused on something called Paperboy. None of the patrons looked up when you and Eddie entered, and the only reason the employee took any note of you is because it was simply his job. Of course, once he spotted you, he did a double-take.

The employee’s jaw hung slack as if in disbelief, and he nervously greeted you two, trying to keep his attention on Eddie. It appeared that the two were familiar with one another, and you wondered if Eddie really spent that much time here or if maybe this was a guy that used to go to school with the two of you. Either way, their interaction wrapped up quickly, and Eddie dragged you to the change machine.

As Eddie inserted a few bills, you looked around at the other arcade patrons, who finally seemed to take notice of you. In the group near Frogger, one of the boys nudged his friends, insisting they both look up; none so subtly, they all looked at you as the music from their arcade cabinet seemed to signal game over. You looked back with a raised brow and cold eyes, causing them all to quickly look away, although you were certain you’d probably catch them spying again. As you gazed back at Eddie, you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your lips - there was something about being the only chick in the arcade that amused you, something about being totally out of place and totally out of Eddie’s league.

Eddie stashed the change in his pocket, holding out a few quarters that you tentatively took from his hand.

“What first, princess?” You looked at him with a judgmental expression, causing him to narrow his eyes critically, “Come on, this’ll be fun.”

“Sure…” You looked around and assessed the arcade, pointing at the nearest cabinet without any consideration, “That one.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh at your choice while shaking his head, knowing you didn’t care one bit what game you started with, “Dig Dug, huh?”

You made another face at him, so he simply rolled his eyes and led you towards the game. He leaned against the cabinet while crossing his arms, giving you an expectant look; in turn, your brow scrunched.

Eddie shrugged, “Well, go for it - this one was your idea.”

“I don’t want to.” You responded as if affronted by the suggestion, “You play.”

Eddie once again rolled his eyes with an exacerbated grin, “I don’t play Dig Dug.”

“Then play something else.” You instructed stubbornly.

“You aren’t getting out of this one.” Eddie countered, motioning towards the cabinet he still rested against, “So, be a big girl and play the game.”

You gaped at his response, feeling a slight stir at his word choice. There was a challenging glint in his eyes that suggested he wasn’t going to back down easily, that he could volley with you all damn day. As you closed your mouth with a small purse to your lips, you looked around the arcade with a raised brow.

“I don’t want to play that one.” You crossed your arms, to which Eddie once more smirked at your stubborn determination.

“Then choose a different one.” He responded while mimicking your body language.

You narrowed your eyes at him before your gaze studied the rows of arcade cabinets, recognizing none of the names. This was something you were grossly uneducated on, arcades making just about as much sense to you as a foreign language. It wasn’t until you finally recognized the name of one that you allowed yourself to meet Eddie’s stare again.

“Okay. That one.” You once again pointed past his shoulder, so Eddie twisted around to see which cabinet finally caught your interest. A faint laugh escaped him as he looked back to you with an amused expression across his face.

“Oh, you wouldn’t like Donkey Kong.” His tone seemed to be daring you to argue, to prove him wrong. You pulled another face at him.

“I don’t like any of these. But I’ve seen that stupid monkey before.” Eddie shrugged in acceptance of your response as he continued to grin, pushing off the Dig Dug cabinet.

“If you insist.” He taunted while turning to walk towards Donkey Kong, you following behind him with a huff. But as you were nearly there, the gang of college kids beat you to it, causing both you and Eddie to halt; he began to turn to you, prepared to ask what the new plan was now that the one cabinet you showed interest in was taken.

Of course, you weren’t about to have that. Sure, you didn’t care an ounce about these video games and you had zero interest in actually playing, but you’d already had enough today, and you’d be damned if you let these guys play Donkey Kong instead of you. So, you brushed past Eddie with a determined look, marching up to them with all the authority in the world.

“Excuse you,” You started rudely, drawing all their eyes in your direction. None of the three really looked like the nerdy type, so none of them backed down from you the way that you were used to, “I’m playing that one.”

They shared a laugh, clearly amused by your attempt to intimidate them. One of the boys countered, “You’re outta luck, we were here first.”

You insisted more firmly, “Just move.”

One of them looked between you and Eddie, provoked by your attitude, “There’s a whole arcade, go find something else to play.”

They returned to the arcade cabinet as if you weren’t even there, which pissed you off even more. You groaned loudly, looking at Eddie and pointing harshly at the boys as if there was something he could possibly do about them. He simply shook his head and grabbed your elbow, lightly tugging you along.

“They beat us to it.” He said as if there was some unspoken arcade rule that you weren’t familiar with. You glared at the boys as Eddie led you down the row, grinning as if to calm you down, “Come on, I got something I think you’ll like.”

“Doubtful.” You countered like a child, catching the way Eddie smiled to himself, both amused and enervated by your attitude. The two of you came to a halt in front of something called Tapper, and you glanced up at Eddie, awaiting an explanation.

“This one’s easy,” he started while presenting the cabinet to you, “Just serve drinks.”

“Okay…” You took in the pixelated graphics on the screen, hesitantly holding up a coin as you considered the game.

“Come on, just give it a try.” Eddie urged. You looked at the simple instructions next to the joystick while finally loading the coin into the machine. As the game began, Eddie turned his attention to the next cabinet over.

Eddie was right about this game being easy, at least for the first few rounds, although once you reached the first “game over” screen you groaned with frustration. That didn’t stop you from inserting another coin and trying again, much to Eddie’s amusement. You were getting the hang of this and, although you weren’t ready to admit it, you were coming to even enjoy Tapper.

Eventually, you ran out of coins, so you returned your attention to Eddie, who had been caught up in his own game. You watched him for a few moments before realizing the college boys were no longer at the Donkey Kong cabinet. Although you shouldn’t have cared so much, you nonetheless felt a sudden eagerness to run over and hog the game you previously missed out on. Hell, you didn’t even know what that game was about, but considering your previous snub, you now simply had to play this damn game.

So, you turned your gaze back to Eddie, who was incredibly focused on the shooting game he was in the middle of, “Donkey Kong is open.”

“So, go play.” He responded with a far off tone, clearly caught up in what he was doing.

“I don’t have any coins.”

In an almost silly motion, Eddie nudged his hip in your direction, “I have some in my pocket.”

You looked down towards his hips, wondering why he didn’t simply pull his hand from the game for a moment to give you a few coins.

Impatiently, his eyes flicked over to you for only a moment; he could tell what you were thinking, “Just reach in and grab a few.”

“Uh, no.” Your voice oozed with attitude.

“Then no Donkey Kong.” He replied with a simple shrug. With a slight glare, you looked between his face and the screen, watching his hectic game for a few long moments. Your gaze drifted back towards Donkey Kong with a mild longing, but you quickly righted yourself - you did not care that much about a stupid arcade game. You could wait until Eddie was done, you didn’t need to play it that bad.

The sound of the front door opening drew your attention as a new man entered the arcade, and your first thought was “shit, is he going to play Donkey Kong?” Why the hell did you care so much? But you couldn’t risk missing out on the game again, so you returned your attention back to Eddie, taking him by total surprise as you reached into his pocket and extracted a handful of coins quickly before you could think about how intimate that action was.

“Jesus, warn a guy before you go digging around in his pants.” Eddie chided with a playful grin, not allowing his gaze to stray from the shooter in front of him.

“Shut up.” You countered while marching towards Donkey Kong, determination etched across your face as you relished in the stupid victory of finally being about to play this damn game.

Of course, you very quickly learned why Eddie had told you before that you wouldn’t like Donkey Kong. Your dumb little man in overalls lost all his lives within the first minute of you playing, and you let out an exasperated sigh as you slapped your hand down on the control panel. With a glare, you loaded another coin in, but due to your frustration you died even quicker than you had the first time, letting out another upset sound before you marched away from Donkey Kong as if the game had personally offended you.

Eddie was still focused on Robotron as you returned to his side with a huff, the sound causing the corner of his mouth to pull up. You glared at his face, “That game is stupid.”

“I told you.” He answered simply, amused by how easily you gave up on it.

“Why doesn’t it work?”

“Have you considered that you’re just bad at it?” Eddie’s eyes briefly look at you, that annoying grin of his not faltering for a moment. Your glare darkened as you turned to walk off, but Eddie’s voice stopped you from going anywhere, “Oh, come on, just wait. I’ll show you how to play the stupid monkey game.”

So, you waited impatiently for Eddie’s game to end, your eyes repeatedly drifting over to Donkey Kong as if in fear that someone else would take the machine from you. Once he was finally done with Robotron, Eddie gave you a teasing look, knowing that you were eager to return to the game that you supposedly didn’t like. With an adamant look, you spun around and marched back towards the machine, knowing that he was following right behind you.

“Just watch, I’ll play the first level for you.” Eddie instructed while loading in the money. He craned his neck back and forth, shaking out his arm as if he were warming up for some epic fight; you nearly smiled, but kept it to yourself. You leaned over Eddie’s shoulder a little as he began, “You have to be fast - this machine has a bit of a lag, so you need to think ahead.”

So, you watched Eddie play, annoyed at just how easy he made it look; evidently, he had a fair amount of practice. And with the first level completed in what appeared to be record time, Eddie stepped back, yanking you quickly in front of the screen to take over the controls. Just as quickly as the level started, though, you lost a life, jumping right into the line of a pixelated enemy. A frustrated noise left you, causing Eddie to laugh from behind you.

“You’ve got two more lives,” He stepped up closer to you, reaching around to put his hand over the jump button, “Lemme help.”

Working together, you managed to make a little bit of progress, but you all too quickly lost again, shoving the joystick in the wrong direction. As you huffed in annoyance once more, Eddie placed his free hand on the small of your back as if to remind you to calm down, the touch nearly causing you to jump from its gentleness.

“Okay, new plan.” Eddie stepped behind you, close enough that your back bumped against his chest. Your shoulders stiffened as he settled his hands on top of yours, your heart skipping as you realized you were pinned between him and the stupid Donkey Kong machine. Thank god he was behind you, because otherwise he would’ve seen the way your cheeks went red, the way your eyes widened with surprise.

You could feel Eddie’s breath against your ear, practically causing you to shudder, “Alright, let’s do this.”

As the level started again, you were grateful that Eddie was taking the reins, controlling your hands with his own, because your brain was way too jumbled to think clearly. Why the hell were you so nervous? How was Eddie Munson doing this to you? You were certain it had more to do with your disdain for people touching you, but you were far too confused to even begin to entertain why you felt so anxious with Eddie practically flush against your back.

You were so zoned out that you hadn’t even realized that the level was complete until Eddie stepped back, a victorious little laugh escaping him. Before you had time to even get your head on straight, the third level began, but you all too quickly fumbled, your game coming to a pathetic end. Composing yourself, you meet Eddie’s eyes with total coolness, hoping that the redness of your cheeks had gone away. His expression didn’t seem to indicate that he noticed anything off about you, so you took a deep breath.

“Help me again.” You instructed as you fished a coin from your pocket. Eddie looked mildly surprised by the instruction, as if he too was just realizing how intimate his assistance was the first time. You simply raised a brow at him while loading the machine with money, straightening your shoulders as he came up behind you once again.

You tried to focus on the game this time as Eddie placed his hands on top of yours again, doing your best to ignore how warm he was behind you, the way his cheek brushed against the crown of your head, how his grip on your hands seemed to be a little bit more firm. You took a couple of deep breaths and focused, approaching this the same way you did skating - with attentiveness to the goal. And your goal was to ignore Eddie and actually beat a level of this god damn monkey game.

So, you watched your little man run and jump across the screen studying the timing as Eddie moved your hands with his own, noting the subtle delay between the control command and the character movement on the screen. Even as you began to understand, you still recognized that it wasn’t going to be easy for you to beat as a total novice to gaming. As the first level came to an end, Eddie began to step back, his hands hovering just over yours, but you turned your head quickly, practically bumping foreheads as he stopped pulling away.

“Wait, one more round.” You instructed, his face so close to yours that you practically went cross-eyed trying to meet his gaze. You saw Eddie’s jaw clench slightly before you faced forward again, his hands settling on top of yours once way.

By the time you two completed the second level, you were grinning triumphantly, satisfied that you were winning, even if only because Eddie was helping you. As the screen went black for a brief moment, you glanced at the content expression of Eddie behind you, feeling his chin move against your head as he, too, smiled largely.

Instead of pulling away, Eddie asked simply, “One more?”

You hummed in agreement as the third level started, once more studying Eddie’s timing as he breezed through the game as if he’d played it a hundred times. For all you knew, he probably had. Just like with his guitar, Eddie’s hands moved with expertise, guiding yours with ease as you two once again completed the course on screen. This time, you let Eddie step back, feeling a little nervous as you realized you had to face Donkey Kong alone again. You also felt a very mild wave of disappointment, but you quickly shoved that aside so you could focus on your game.

But, of course, you struggled without Eddie’s assistance, fumbling the jump time and losing a life. You took a deep breath through your nose as you tried to focus, feeling Eddie’s gaze burning into you as the level started over. You tried to ignore the intensity of his stare as you started again, running through the level as fast as you could. You managed to get much farther than before, but you nonetheless made another mistake.

You looked towards Eddie, prepared to ask him for help, but he shut you down before you got a word out, “Oh no, you wanted to play this, remember? I can’t keep playing for you.”

You pouted only for a moment, returning your attention to the screen, trying and failing once more to beat the game. You threw your head back with an annoyed groan, stepping away from Donkey Kong while crossing your arms.

“I don’t see why people play this stupid game, it’s impossible.” You whined, causing Eddie to laugh while rolling his eyes.

“That’s the point - it’s challenging. You can’t be a winner all the time.” He teased while dipping his head down closer to yours, seeing right through your frustrations. To Eddie, it was obvious that you weren’t used to losing, and he loved how worked up you were getting over an arcade game of all things.

“If I’m not going to win, then I don’t want to play.” You countered childishly, your eyebrow raised as if daring him to comment on that. You spun on your heel and began to walk away from the offensive game cabinet, hearing Eddie following behind you.

“That’s part of the fun, ya know.” He started. You half expected him to sling his arm over your shoulders as he normally did, but this time he refrained, as if all that contact during Donkey Kong was just a little too much for one day. You threw him a look.

“Well, it’s not fun for me.” You weren’t sure where the hell you were walking off to considering that there wasn’t anywhere in the Palace to hide, but you were too caught up in simply being stubborn. Eddie laughed, rolling his eyes with a hint of fondness as he lightly snagged your arm and stopped you. You met eyes, Eddie grinning at your attitude that he was quickly becoming accustomed to.

“You say that now, but I guarantee you’ll be asking me to bring you back.” He teased, receiving a small glare from you in response. He shook his head a little, “Let’s go, your pouting is making this no fun.”

You could tell Eddie was just taunting you, so you gave his shoulder a small shove while pulling away from his hold. You wouldn’t dare admit that you actually had some fun, so instead you began for the exit, your tone nonchalant as you responded, “Thank god, if I stay here any longer the nerds might try to convert me.”

Behind you, Eddie shook his head fondly as he followed you out.

.

.

additional a/n: shoutout to Tapper for being my favorite arcade game

taglist: @a-queen-blr @avalon-wolf @costellation-hunter @daisy-munson

@daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie @delilaaahhh @eddiernunson

@em0220 @frogtape @fromasgardandback @fckyeahlames @kthomps914

@lotrefcp @love-anonymous-writer @marrowfrog00 @mewchiili @miaajaade

@munsonssweets @no-bueno-writer @rach5ive @sav12321 @sheneedsrocknroll92

@steeldaisies @stormgrl19

[heartandsoulcomic]

Reunited.

(That’s probably the fastest Sans has ever moved.)

Previous

Beginning of Part Five

First Page

Next

-------------------

Summer Hiatus for Heart and SOUL!

The TL;DR version – Desperately need a break, will return in September!

Longer ramble under the cut!

Hey all.

Unfortunately, I need to take a break. I thought this page, with the hug I’ve wanted to get to for years, would be a good place to pause the comic for a while.

I’ve got Life Stuff going on, depression trying to curb stomp me, and a bit of burnout. AND I’m out of buffer! The next part of this chapter is most likely going to have more extra-large pages, and they take extra time to make.

I love telling this story, but when I sit at my tablet and just feel like crying, it’s probably time to take a break!

I need a little breathing room, and time to rebuild my buffer. So Heart and SOUL will be on hiatus until September, when I will hopefully come back fresh and maybe actually get this big chapter finally done!

I’ll try to post some extra stuff from time to time so the Tumblr Blog/DeviantArt page won’t be dead for the entire summer, but unlike previous breaks, it won’t have a strict update schedule. And it may be very random stuff! We shall see.

Thank you all for your patience, and thank you so much for reading Heart and SOUL!

See you soon!

[powerfultenderness]

That Time...

That time you maybe sorta accidentally almost had phone sex with König

Rated: Mature Word Count: 2097 Notes: [Neighbor!König] 1. Chronological order? Never heard of her. 🤷‍♀️ (what happened before he left is an event for another chapter). 2. Sorry for the hiatus. IRL, you know?

König retreated to his temporary quarters with a sigh. It had been nearly 72 hours since he had proper sleep. A few naps in a jostling humvee was nothing compared to his bed at home. Free of gear and mask, he gently laid down on the stiff bed, wishing he was at home. This mission, already supposed to be a long one, had gone haywire before he even arrived. Meaning he first had to take control of the situation before he could even attempt his mission. Lucky for him, that meant he’d get bonus pay. 

He sighed again as he flopped over on his stomach, arm dangling off the edge of the bed, and eyes drifting to the small, much too small, desk. Some paperwork and a canteen of water sat on top. In the little drawer a pen and, the most important item he carried here, his personal phone.

He blinked and pushed himself up a bit, black paint leaving a small stain in his pillow and reached for the drawer. He had to lean over a bit more to reach, but he found his phone after a few blind taps. After a quick unlock he looked at his only text conversation. Yes, only. Very few people had his personal phone number, and all but one of those contacts communicated with him solely through calls. Ever since he exchanged numbers with you, you texted him quite often. Mostly quick questions: would he like to join you for dinner? Can you stop by real quick? Things of that nature.

He actually hated texting. The keyboard was too small for his big hands and auto correct proved not to be his friend. Still, he put up with even the small amount he did for you. 

He glanced at the time, doing quick mental math to determine what time it was at home. It was late, but not too late, and you had a habit of staying up late. He could- the phone slipped in his hand and, 

Shit!

He quickly sat up as he accidentally called you, finger hovering over the button to end the call. What if you answered? He desperately wanted to hear your voice. He loved his job but,

“König?” 

His stomach flipped and his heartbeat spiked as he faintly heard your voice. He swallowed thickly and put the phone to his ear.

Your voice, slightly creaky, started to panic. “König? Is everything alright? Are you back?” 

“Yes. I’m fine, darling. No, I’m not back yet.” He answered in an even and calm voice, feeling both guilty and touched that you were so worried about him.

You sighed and there was some faint shuffling, “it’s…” you paused and he could just see you biting your bottom lip. “What’s up?” 

“I.” He swallowed nervously again. “I just wanted to hear your voice.” 

…

The only thing he could hear was his blood pounding in his ears as he waited for your response. 

“König?”

“Yes?”

“Do you…miss me?” Your voice pitched up teasingly; he’d heard the tone enough to know that you were grinning.

Grateful that you couldn’t see how flushed his face was, he took a moment to push himself up the bed enough to lean back against the wall. “Y-yes.” He mumbled into the phone. 

“Aww! That’s sweet!” 

“It is?” 

“Yea.”

His heart, his stomach, his blood, fluttered again as a relieved smile crossed his face. “Do you,” he licked his lips, “do you miss me?”

You coughed on the other end of the call, “uhh…welllll….”

König gasped, “you don’t miss me?!” 

“What! No! Of course I do!” 

“No. You forgot about me the moment I left, didn’t you?” He sniffled dramatically, even placed a hand over his heart even though you couldn’t see him.

“Noo, König! I DO miss you!” You half giggled as he played with you.

“Oh? Then why the pause?”

“Uhm…” 

You looked around the room. His room. You really didn’t know how to explain this without coming off as creepy. (does that mean you are, in fact, creepy?) 

König saying your name, and not one of those cutesy nicknames he often used, drew you out of your thoughts. “I don’t know. It’s just. Uhm. You see.”

Now it was his turn to be worried. “What is it?”

You took a breath, “ok. I. I thought you were coming home tonight.”

He sighed, “I know, angel. I’m sorry, some unexpected-”

“No, no! That’s ok! I’m not upset about that!”

“Then what?” “I mean, I’m not upset at all!” 

“Ah. I was right. You don’t miss me.” 

“König!” 

He chuckled, “what are you trying to tell me?”

“Like I said, I thought you were coming home tonight. So I, uhm, used the key you gave me to cook dinner at your flat. I thought you might like to have dinner in the comfort of your own home.”

König’s heart thumped in his chest. In only a second the image of going home, to see you waiting for him, pampering him, feeding him, caring for him all flashed through his mind. It was an image he very much wanted. Your name quietly slipped past his lips, but you had only paused to take a breath and continued with your rambling.

“But then you didn’t and that’s fine, like, you said you were only estimating when you’d be back and then I started cleaning and, uhmm…” “Don’t tell me you burned down my flat?” 

“No!” You barked out a laugh, a little thankful that he interrupted before you could fully embarrass yourself. 

You sighed, you knew he wouldn’t drop it now. Sure enough you heard him once again asking you to just tell him. Instead you pulled your phone away from your face and turned on the camera. You snapped a quick selfie and after a breath, sent it to him. 

König’s phone buzzed in his hand just as he called your name again. He blinked and opened the text message you just sent him. His eyes widened and he quietly gasped as instead of a text, you sent a picture. It was nothing provocative, but it was you. Of you in bed. His bed. His blanket pulled up to your neck as you smiled sheepishly into the camera.

“-And then I got tired and laid down in your room.” You finished your explanation, unaware that König was still staring at the picture you sent. Unaware that he was now imagining what his life could be like if instead of staying on base after a long shift, he spent the extra time to go home and crawl into bed with you. 

“König?” You asked, voice tight with anxiety. “Are you mad at me? I’ll leave! And I’ll wash-” “No! No! I’m not mad! You can sleep there!”  Please sleep there!

“Are you sure? I get it, if I crossed a line-”

“I’m sure. Don’t leave. It’s late and it’s cold out.” 

It was late, sure, but it wasn’t cold; it was still summer. It was an excuse you both accepted.

“I am just surprised. You hate sleeping in your day clothes.” He tried to joke, to reassure you that he absolutely did not mind you sleeping in his bed. At least someone was enjoying it. Even if he did wish that he could enjoy it with you. 

You coughed nervously again, “well…”

Dear God. If you told him that you were sleeping naked in his bed? He’d abandon his post, steal a helicopter and fu-

“I kinda borrowed one of your shirts to wear as a nightgown. Is. Is that ok?” 

Oh. That made more sense than you climbing into his bed naked. He took a deep breath. “Of course, darling.”

You sighed in relief. The fact that he switched back to your normal nickname put you at ease. "Oh, good. It really makes for a comfy nightgown, so I can sleep in your comfy bed." 

You teased and chuckled at the groan he let out, assuming that it was his bed that he was missing. 

König chuckled with you, relaxing against the wall, and licked his lips as he felt another spike of anxiety flutter in his stomach. “Did you borrow a pair of my shorts too?” 

“What! No!” You laughed, “are you kidding? This shirt is so big on me, it can be a dress.” 

He closed his eyes and let his head drop against the wall. “Good. That is good.” 

“What? Why?”

He hummed as he imagined crawling into bed, flipping you onto your back so he could settle between your bare thighs, his hand grabbing a fistful of your smooth soft flesh until he was gripping your hip. 

“König?”

He froze, only now realizing how hard he was getting and where his free hand had been. He cleared his throat, “ah. It’s nothing, darling. I just want you to be comfortable.” 

“Me? How comfortable are you right now?” 

“Not very.” He answered honestly. The bed he was currently sitting on was too small for him, it was both stiff and lumpy, and the blanket was thinner than his shirt. “My couch is more comfortable than this.” 

“I mean, you do have a really comfortable couch.” 

“Hm. Especially with you on it too.” 

You blinked, stomach alight with butterflies. You must have heard him wrong, or he must have misspoke. He must have meant that his couch was more comfortable even if he had to share it with you. “Well, there is enough room for both of us.” 

“Yea.” He agreed, eyes closed as he thought about the night he left. Of the little shorts you had been wearing, so short that his hand hit the elastic of your panties before the fabric of your shorts when he “casually” dragged his hand up and down your body. “Enough for you to lie down with me.” 

You let out the quietest little gasp, a shiver running down your body as you remembered the feeling of his hands on you. “Oh. Yea…I was…kinda on top of you, though.” 

König grunted, now palming himself through his pants. He had a hard time forgetting the feeling of you grinding your hips into him. “A perfect fit.” 

That night had started out normal enough. Maybe it was the calming scent of the candle, or the steady rainfall and rolling thunder. It was not a cold night, but you still just wanted to cuddle with him. And he obliged.

You sighed over the phone, into König’s ear. He was so solid. And warm. You bit your lip, thighs clenched at the memory of his meaty thigh between your legs. 

Just a breathy whisper of his name had his eyes rolling back into his head, his free hand desperately pulling at his belt. 

Knock! Knock! Knock!

“König!” The voice of one of his men interrupted him before he could even fully undo his belt (thankfully). 

He growled and pulled the phone away from his face, “shit! What!” 

You jumped when König started yelling, there was some shuffling and more shouting. It gave you a moment to collect yourself, to realize what you were about to do, and think of an excuse to get off of this phone call.

An excuse you didn’t need, as he sighed and put the phone back up to his ear. “Listen, darling, I have to go.” 

You nodded, you expected as much after all that commotion. “Be safe.” 

“Yea. You too.” 

You stared at your phone once the call disconnected. He was always worried about you even though he was the one running into what you presumed to be an active war zone. You felt a little guilty that if things hadn't been so urgent on his side, you were about to end the call before things got even more intimate. (It was late! And you had to work in the morning!) What if you made it up to him?

Before you could chicken out, you quickly turned on the light and set your phone up on the nightstand to get a picture of you on the bed. You hadn’t borrowed one of his t-shirts, but a tank top, with a comfortable scoop neck on him. But on you? It dropped deep enough to reveal plenty of cleavage. 

Then you snapped a few pictures and choose the most flattering flirtatious one and quickly sent it to him, with the message: “thanks for letting me borrow your shirt!” 

To say that König was surprised when he returned to base was an understatement. How in the world was he supposed to concentrate on his work now?! 

[Neighbor König Masterlist]

Neighbor König taglist (blurbs): Please let me know if you wish to be added or removed.

@warrior-of-justice  @cumikering @ihateuguys @rand0m--fangirl @keiva1000 @dtftheavengers @takeyour-pants-off @aeeliy @milenko115 @sodonuthideout @onegami @nadiauddincrafts @nadiauddincrafts @grizzersmamma @flooftoof @techs-ass @virginalsacrifice @s0rc3r3r @sleeplessskeleton @introvered-violinist @tizylish @romula96 @peach-habibitch @mitchlow @queenotaku27 @fenixnegras @emmbny @love-dove-noora @lesbianmitsuri @supergirl16 

[jazjelspen]

leaving on wild charted waters [pt.7]

(what if our mc just got tired of Night Raven College and it's inhabitants?)

(mc just-- can't get a break.. can they?..)

(I AM BACKK RAHHHH i'm so sorry with how long this took!! real life has been really weird and troublesome for too long but I'm now back and ready to write some more! hope people are still interested in this series because i'm getting ready to wrap this series up really soon to begin more one shots and another future series. for those that have waited for this long for chapter 7.... THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! literally i'm so thankful you have sticked around THIS long despite my hiatus. since because of you guys, I still want to keep writing more here :) now let's get this going!)

(not proofread, all your house leaders are mentioned!)

(requested tags: @bottomjamilsupremacy @abyssqueen @time-shardz @a-very-bored-mika @obeymediasimp @sarah22447 @cuentademeri @twistedcece @paintingeels)

(if you want to be tagged in future chapters please comment or message me! I will only tag you if you directly ask for it and I will only tag you once unless you asked to be tagged on all future chapters of a particular series.)

five weeks in Royal Sword Academy, during the fifth week all you've been doing is resting from the event that was the ball. your injuries were not an issue since Raps healed them up fast with his magic but he couldn't exactly heal the emotional wounds that reopened again.

everyone in RSA pitied you for the situation that you got stuck into, a magicless human almost crushed by the falling tower that suddenly got covered in thorns. people made up so many rumors, people said that the house leaders of NRC didn't like that you, the former prefect of their school, left in favor of their rival school so in spite they set an attack on RSA. others said you weren't even involved and that it was just their rivalry getting out of hand on Night Raven's part.. and why Night Raven College in particular? that was because few residents from Briar Valley that attend RSA recognized the thorns to be from their home kingdom.. their prince's thorns. either way you just avoided answering questions and no one exactly pushed you for answers, but the rumors went out of hand way too fast, so fast that now the headmaster of RSA had to pause his research to find a way back home for you to then try to ask NRC if any of their students came to their school because of how many RSA students were taking the stories just.. too far.

you had a fairly.. ominous morning. the clouds seemed grayer than usual but you passed it on as the sky just being the sky. you saw the ship that took you from NRC to RSA come back aboard and settle down which made you curious but didn't let it bother you. other small little misfortunes included your food falling on the floor, your favorite morning drink tasting weird or spilling on you, your appearance looking more tired than usual no matter how much you try to cover it, and then your shoes keep getting untied no matter what way you tie them.

but here you are now, as you walked through the school to occupy your time in doing something while classes were going on (p.s you were allowed to go into classes you were interested in with permission) but today you just simply felt like walking to let out some steam. you looked through your new phone gifted to you by the headmaster and read through the frenzy of comments from RSA students about the event, luckily it's been dying down a bit but it's clearly not stopping.

"do you think the house leaders from NRC could've really done it? could they have gotten that angry?"

"I dunno. I just know that those thorns look like the ones from briar valley or from that one dark and green dorm from the school."

"either way it'd be petty for them to send the literal prince or house leader all the way here just for that :b" "dude r u fr y would they send the prince" "it low-key high-key ruined the dance for me and my friends completely tbh" "same :("

you sighed at the comments since you felt a knot of guilt in your stomach. you too felt like the ordeal ruined the dance for you and your friends but the only thing that kept you from descending more was that they still mentioned all the time how fun it was even if the end was a disaster.

speaking of your friends.. only they knew who it was that visited you and why. they kept your secret since they knew how much of a sensitive subject it is for you and they admitted they didn't want to see you be blamed for this even if it wasn't even your fault in the first place.

"Gee.." you blurted out while putting your phone back in your bag after putting it on silent "NRC this.. Night Raven that.. so sick of hearing their nam--"

BOOM!

You bumped into someone!

You stumbled back a bit with how strong the hit was, it was as if this person was running but was also really.. strong?? because of how hard it was.

"I'm so sorry!-- " you apologized while getting back on your feet "i'm really sorry I didn't think anyone was out right now during classes! I--" you blinked a few times to look at the person with a look of embarrassment on your face.

oh it was actually two people, that explains the force.

one had orange hair and the other had dark blue hair, how familiar.

wait--

red heart on the right eye, black spade on the left--

no fucking way.

"prefect! we've found yo--!"

"no."

you turned your heels immediately after interrupting the red head while speeding up your pace. the amount of fucks you have left are way below zero and you weren't ready for this after last week.

"______! wait- we need to talk!-" exclaimed the spade for your attention but of course you didn't give.

"no no no nononono-- not today- not right now-- I can't fucking do this right now." you sped your walking more but you bumped shoulders with someone this time that stunted your walking but didn't make you stumble like the first time. except this person gave you a low lion kind of grumble.

"watch it herbivore!--" this deep and irritated voice snapped at you but it seems like they stopped their sentence too soon.

you two locked eyes and you never felt more dread in one single moment than today.

"______?.." the prince of Sunset Savanna spoke out your name in a gentle kind of tone that seemed absolutely abnormal to you coming from him of all people. his face contorted into one of disbelief yet care.. it weirded you out so much on how he spoke and looked at you as if he missed you to death. a vague look on his face that can only be described as if he was a kicked puppy.

but god.. Ace, Deuce, now Leona?? your speed walking turned into immediate jogging.

your self mumbling was shaky and panicked, all you wanted to do was get away "why why why--" you jogged across the halls while trying not to be too loud to disrupt any classes but you knew that perhaps ongoing classes would be concerned over the several voices in the background calling your name. you were about to open the door to the courtyard until an arrow was shot right above where your hand was jiggling the door handle. you looked back to see your shooter to see two infamous blondes.

"mon cher.. my dear trickster!" the bob cut blonde exclaimed in happiness and joy that you have never seen before in so long from him. as if he literally did not almost shoot your hand with one of those arrows of his.

meanwhile the other blonde with purple tints at the ends of his hair, looked at you with a very sour scowl. "you." you heard the queen of Pomefiore spit the word in your way "Rook, it seems like you missed."

that last line from Vil gave you chills down your spine which caused you to jiggle the knob quicker "this cannot get any fucking worse!!--" you yelled in frustration as you finally were able to open and stumble out the door with Rook and the others you passed by exclaiming or whining(that's just Rook lol) at you to stop.

you ran down the long flight of stairs to the courtyard to escape all these pains in the butt but Lady Luck just seriously wanted to see you fail today since as you were closer to descending you finally felt your left foot feel somewhat lighter. you looked down to finally notice that your darn shoe was missing! you looked up to try and find it but at the very top of the stairs of course the hunter had it right in his hands, flaunting and showing it off to you from the top of the staircase.

"yoohoo!~ trickster! I may have something you need!~" Rook taunted you playfully.

"keep it! I don't need some shoe to get away from all of you!" you spat before you turned to continue on running with only your left sock and right shoe to carry you on.

you could hear Ace and Deuce whine with how many stairs there are but they kept on running down. Leona on the other hand with much more stamina and agility than them despite his daily and constant naps was able to catch up further than the ace and spade ever could. the lion's panting and footsteps were getting closer and closer as you were heading towards your dorm but considering how far it was and how close he was you were starting to feel pessimistic.

but you always had friends in high places.

"_______!! Up here!!" a familiar and this time comforting voice yelled out your name from a high up dorm you were about to run past. Raps quickly let down his long golden hair from his dorm window up high and you couldn't help but to smile like an idiot now knowing what to do. Leona noticed this and tried to quicken his pace but as you neared to the hair of your lifesaver with much more adrenaline than ever before you finally forced your body to leap and jump onto the golden locks of your friend, and just as fast as you intertwined your arms, legs, hands, and fingers into the hair you were now quickly being pulled up to safety with Leona immediately frozen in his spot while looking up at you getting farther and farther away from him.

you looked down at him with a look of pity because of the sorry expression on his face.. but in the end you didn't care. you stopped caring long ago anyway.

as you were taken up you could hear distant voices calling out to you again but you didn't face them and instead hugged your savior.

"Raps!-" you smiled all silly as you were trying to catch your breath and wipe the sweat away from your brows and forehead. "I owe you my life! I really couldn't face them again--"

Raps chuckled lightly as he gently patted your head and took you in his arms, not caring about the sweat and heat coming off of you. "I saw them arrive from the ship this morning and I knew that at some point you'd need me so I prepared for anything." soon enough you backed up to be able to breathe properly and truly savor in the temporary victory for today but despite pulling away Raps gently brushed down your hair to settle down the crazy strands from all that running you had and even wiped some of your sweat with his sleeve. "they chased you like a pack of wolves from up here-- kind of scary to be honest.."

you groaned in annoyance "i KNOW!! it's crazy! as if simply ghosting and leaving the school WASN'T ENOUGH!-- I'm so exhausted of this I can't--do this anymore Raps.." the adrenaline pumped into your heart and ears and you felt your hands started shaking whilst you raised your voice in exhaustion. the way your eyes scattered and looked up and down, right and left-- just simply the way you were anxious made Raps concerned.

your friend immediately grabbed you by your shoulders to get you back together, gently shaking you "_______!.." and when you still seemed not all there yet he then went to hold your face this time "______!!" he exclaimed as he then finally was able to catch your attention "maybe you need to rest for awhile.."

you nodded but gave him a vague and questionable look "aren't you supposed to be in class?"

Raps rolled his eyes playfully "i am in class, my dad is also my teacher remember. in a way this is my study hall time."

you laughed a bit "right.. damn.. I really do need to sleep."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

the rest of the day was sort of hectic.. of course you took your nap while leaning on Raps while he studied after that heck of a chase. now after him helping you go back to your dorm to get another pair of shoes you're here walking with Raps to his next class, outside of the safety of the dorms, but you knew that when Neige, Alex, and Rielle would find the two of you then you'd have nothing to fear.

you looked from side to side cautiously with your anxiety rising up with the pace of your eyes going back and forth.

"you'll be fine _____..." mumbled the golden blonde "I'm right here with you remember, if they decide to speak to you I promise I'll do the speaking for you." he gave you his charming smile which made you feel a bit of relief.

"thanks raps.. but it's not just them speaking to me that frightens me.." you whispered as you hid close to him. you felt more anxious the longer you felt several pairs of eyes staring at you here and there.

"well let's just think on the positive. from here on out until they leave you'll stay with us from the beginning of the morning till the end of the day, so they won't be shouting your name every few seconds." Raps suggested but you simply laughed back.

"as if i'm not already stuck to the hip to all four of you everyday of almost every hour."

both of you laughed together at your comment, feeling a heavy weight lift off your shoulders a bit at the joking and the reliability of your friend.

you both calmed down and ended the small giggling frenzy with a sigh before you started to speak "let's just hope I don't get to see any of them too much today, I wouldn't want to throw up whatever I ate last time for when I see them.."

in the next few moments your friend Rielle finally approached you guys! great timing Rielle!

"hey guys!" he chirped "how have your days been! good I hope?" Rielle started small talk with you two in order to cheer up the atmosphere.. since the talk about NRC students on RSA campus grounds have been swirling around and making the group feel uneasy.. but you didn't really know that yet.

after discussing about eachotehrs days, explaining your chase and everything in between. Rielle gave you this look, it seemed almost pitiful and kind of as if he needed to tell you something. you gave him a confused look with an awkward smile. "what's up Rielle? never seen you look this nervous before.." your friend seemed a bit caught off guard and returned the awkward smile back to you.

"ah!- well.. shrimpy.. I almost don't want to tell you because it makes me feel a little.. upset." he shrugged with the emotion in his eye of wanting to hold back. "the words may get a bit stuck in my throat but. well--"

you looked at him in immediate interest, the thoughts in your head wondering what he needs to say.. and why it's taking so long..

"the headmaster needs to see you. he said he's made an immense break through in the search of finding a way back home for you. that maybe-- you'll finally be able to go back where you came from." the red head seemed to get more upset the more he went on, the exact opposite of your reaction.

you smiled, you were excited-- you were finally going home! back to what you truly know and love!

but what about your friends?..what about your new friends? what's gonna happen to them? you've all gotten so close in the past five weeks together. is this really the time to leave back home now?

you looked at both Raps and Rielle with this look on your face that only said one thing: I need to talk to the headmaster. they both gave you a tiny smile that seemed to try to mask the glum feeling they both had in this situation that is now unfolding before them. and before you could think your legs started running and your heart again was beating out of your chest. not because you were being chased or yelled at but because for once you felt a sense of true and honest optimism about your situation.. after months of being trapped in this world. every sharp turn, every step, every shoulder bump, every gentle shove and half-hearted apologies made your heart feel alive and more excited than ever about this. you could almost smell the air of your home, see the colors of your room, touch and feel the fabrics, rough, soft, rigid edges of every corner inside your house.

and while your friends watched you run, Rielle could feel a drop of water down his face. he touched it and saw it was coming down from his eye.. weird. he pressed the water in between his thumb and index finger. ahh now he remembers-- he's heard of something like this, a human function in which the body is able to produce water from the eyes when one is feeling intense emotion.. but he felt so distraught, as if he was grieving yet no one has left him yet.

'is this what they call a tear?'

---------------------------------------------------------------------

after reaching the top of the final flight of stairs you stared down at the headmaster's office doors. the smile on your face widened as you turned both knobs and pushed your body against the doors.

"headmaster Ambrose!! you said you wanted to se--'

oh dear mc, I'm so sorry.

you looked around the entire room and every one of the house leaders in Night Raven College are present there, statures tall, intimidating, sour, fond, confused. along with their reliable vice dorm leaders by their side.

Riddle Rosehearts gave you a glum and pitiful look yet that lasted for a second before he tried to seem stern and serious while looking away with his vice dorm leader, Trey, bedside him.

Leona Kingscholar, back again, also pretended to be serious and uninterested about this situation but you could tell he was trying to catch a small peak of you with his vice dorm leader, Ruggie, beside him watching.

Azul Ashengrotto has a kind of look on his face that clearly held a grudge but every single time he stole a gaze at you it's as if his eyes softened ever so slightly, even his vice dorm leader, Jade, easily caught this.

Kalim Al-Asim was more than happy to see you, he obviously tried to keep himself from speaking but his appreciation for you seemed to have never faltered for a second. His vice dorm leader, Jamil, stood behind him as he usually does.

Vil Schoenheiht was the one with the biggest scowl and petty look on his face. not daring to even peek at you but it was obvious that despite him being an actor that it was easy to see through this act of him hating you and wanted to never see you again. His vice dorm leader, Rook, simply complimented you from afar and also seemed to be awing you from across the room.

Idia Shroud was present.. what a shock-- this has never happened usually unless you were involved but he seemed to hide his face away with his hood and pretended to be occupied in a video game when in reality he couldn't even focus on the game he tried to use as a distraction from you. His vice dorm leader/brother, Ortho Shroud, just gave you a happy smile, also quietly very happy to see your face.

Then theres.. Malleus Draconia, you've seen him just a week ago and he also looked down shamefully. as if he couldn't bear to see your face in fear of disappointment and hate. despite this his vice dorm leader, Lilia gave you a small smile but tried to focus on Malleus and the meeting at hand.

"______ my dear! so long no see! thank you so much for getting here to talk to us!" headmaster Crowley cheered as he welcomed you in the office along with headmaster Ambrose by his side. "you see the headmaster to Royal Sword Academy wanted to talk to me about a few unrelated things. internet frenzies and such! but then we got distracted and talked more about you."

you stared at Crowley intensely, afraid of looking towards the other house leaders you used to be almost fond of a bit back then, but of course you put yourself over whatever fondness you had.

"he talked about his research in finding you a way back home, and luckily for you Night Raven College's house leaders wanted to present to him and yourself as well a way they found you to go back home!"

You stared at Crowley after he finished his sentence, there was a long pause, maybe an awkward cough in-between. "so you're saying.." you could feel the words get caught in your throat "that everyone here.. the house leaders.. found ways to get me home?.."

Crowley hummed in slight thought "Not exactly my dear, they all worked together to find you one straight path back to your home! turns out all they missed was just the research that headmaster Ambrose has right here!" he let out one of his signature chuckles "even from afar you still managed to be NRC's prefect! making the housleaders work together for a way back home for you! now that's magic."

your mouth was slightly agape as you slowly looked at everyone in disbelief. "you really did that for me?.. despite everything you all did to me when I was still there and everything I did to get away?.." everyone either looked down or straight ahead to avoid your gaze or even nodded gently. no words were spoken or needed at the moment.

you took a moment to breathe and let the gravity of the situation sink into your skin. an inhale and exhale later you finally let yourself say your next few words,

"how do I get back home?"

(CHAPTER 7 IS OUT!!! thank you so much for being patient and waiting for me to finally be able to post this chapter! I hope it came out alright to better! I had fun with this chapter especially since I'm now planning the seeds to the end of this series, thank you for the love and I hope you enjoyed this!)

[omegalomania]

the thing is that i can still remember the way it felt.

end of november, 2022, suddenly every feed lights up. they're doing something. people are posting images of the chicago tribune, a full page ad that has this bicolored logo, a face both happy and sad, black and white, and it simply says: FOB8.

"is this real?" quite a few people were skeptical after the years-long pause between mania and now. "i'm not convinced."

"it's a full-page ad in a single chicago newspaper out of nowhere, right after joe got finished doing a whole book tour where he insisted they had no new music to speak of," i answered. "of fucking course it's real. it has fall out boy all over it."

i remember so vividly the sense of wonder that arrived on christmas morning of that same year, when i woke up at the exact right moment to learn that fall out boy did something again. an eerie, playful, earnest, weird claymation video with a haunting soundtrack, featuring a little black and brown dog. it was mystifying and bizarre and striking - a sprinkling of stardust on the dog's muzzle that prompted it to sneeze - and the adrenaline rush i got from the snippet of heart-pounding drums and guitar was the best gift i'd received all year.

so much (for) stardust. i've said it before and i'll say it again - it's a damn near perfect title. it's a play on words, it has multiple meanings nested into one another. given enough time, we all fall apart like so much dust, like so much stardust because that's where we came from. we are made of and from stardust. for stardust. so much for stardust. so much for the cosmic clay that shaped us. so much for this life, so much for the very foundational fucking firmament from which we we all sprang, so much for this whole strange weird existence. it's exhaustion and anger and spite and frustration and, at the same time - it's wonder. it's love. it's a doberman frozen in an instant of elated play, snapping at bubbles. it's a dog breed conventionally associated with danger captured in a moment of buoyant delight. it's an oil painting, surrounded by words shaped from sparkling clay.

it's love.

it's a record full to bursting with love. it's in the very first song they sent to us, sending us their love from the other side of the apocalypse. it's a record that says yes, the world is a mess and it feels insurmountable. maybe existence is meaningless. maybe it's all fucking pointless and we're all gonna die anyway. but like hell that means i'm not going to love life with all that i am. like hell i am going to let that stifle me. if nothing matters, then love is what matters.

and they committed to it, too. if there's one thing we can take away from so much for (tour)dust, it's that fall out boy loves us the way we love them. they'd have to, right? they could have called it quits years ago. hell, they could've packed it up after the hiatus and just never come back. they'd have to really love doing this to want to keep at it, years later, and look at that. they have.

fall out boy, at the end of the day, is propelled by love. they have to really love what they do to keep doing it. they have to love each other, love the music, love the fans, to keep doing what they do. this is something they've repeatedly asserted over the course of this tour and record cycle: the sheer, shared joy, the positive feedback loop of creative energy that comes from sharing something you made with the world and seeing the world respond in turn.

the world is a wreck and it feels, at times, like nothing you do matters or changes anything. so much (for) stardust is the antithesis to that kind of existential apathy. look, it says. look at what your love has changed. because as desolate and nightmarish and inescapable as the pitfalls of this strange, oftentimes terrifying existence can be - we have laughter, we have good friends, we have good music, and we have the ability to not let our own ennui defeat us. there are things in this world worth living for. there are things in this world worth loving. you have to love one another. you have to laugh and do whatever silly, inane thing makes you feel alive. you have to hug your friends and sing with them, cry with them, and savor every drop of this life that we get. prioritize love. be seriously unserious.

a week before this record came out, i spent some 6-7 hours in a car driving to a record store to hear it with a bunch of people, many of them strangers. i heard so much (for) stardust in its entirety in a record store with one of my favorite people, surrounded by awed chatter as we all drank it in. we didn't catch all the words, but the ones we heard sank into us and took root. i almost couldn't bear to wait for to hear the record properly.

a year later, it's sunk into the recesses of my soul. i'm not sure it'll ever come unstuck there. i don't think i want it to.

thanks for the stardust, fall out boy.

we love you back.

[btsgotjams27]

bust a move | jjk

✨ title: bust a move | ✨ pairing: jk x f!reader ✨ genre/au: smut, pwp, married!au, parents!au ✨ word count: 825 | ✨ rating: m/18+ MDNI ✨ summary: you finally return the favor. ✨ warnings: kissing, groping, oral (m. receiving), handjob, he comes in her mouth (but she spits it out) ✨ a/n: i blame ck jk for this horny word vomit, and also thanks to ck jk for bringing out of my smut hiatus (err--i'm also a little rusty, so forgive me). this is definitely not beta'd, so i'm sorry for any typos or grammar mistakes.

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] previous > busted again

You hum, “G’morning,” inching towards Jungkook, your hand moving to his crotch, but he resists your touch. “What’s wrong?” Brows furrowed and a pout on your face.

He scans your face, eyes dropping down to your chest that’s barely covered by your silk pajama top. “I’m, uh, wet.”

A soft chuckle escapes your lips. “You mean you had a wet dream?” He avoids your gaze, embarrassed at the fact that he still gets them occasionally. “It happens. You have a dick. It’s only normal.”

Jungkook sighs, embarrassment written all over his face as he hides under the covers. You follow suit, joining him under the duvet. “I’m just–I’ve been really horny lately, that’s all.”

Raising an eyebrow, you scoot closer, cupping his face, staring into those starry doe eyes. “Did you know that you can have sex with me anytime you want, and I will probably never deny you?”

He grunts, closing his eyes for a moment, imagining all the things he’d do to you. “Mm…don’t tell me that.”

With another wiggle toward him, your body soaks up his warmth along with the heat that’s encapsulated underneath the duvet. It’s early. 6 AM. Lucky for you, your two littles have decided to sleep in, but you have other things on your mind—mainly returning the favor since he wouldn’t let you suck him off that one time in the bathroom.

“Will you…” You pause, your fingers drawing invisible stars into his sculpted chest, then trace down the center to his chiseled abs. “Let me…you know,” you say softly with a smirk on your face.

“Baby, I’m all yours. I’ll take anything you want to give me.”

Your thumb hooks into the elastic of his sweats, pulling them down over his hips along with his briefs, letting his cock spring free. A soft hiss leaves him when you wrap your hand around his shaft. Stroking him a few times, you love watching him revel at your touch. The noises and staggered breaths has you clenching around nothing.

Jungkook remembers that he can touch you too, kiss you even. His hand grips your waist, then moves to grab your ass, kneading them with desire and lust. The ache for him builds within you, but this is about him.

You bring your lips to his, not letting his moan escape, for fear of little ones bursting through the door. The two of you don’t need to be busted again.

He breaks away from the kiss, molding his lips to the column of your neck and collarbones.

“Kook…” you whimper. “Let me take care of you.”

Pulling back, he sighs with a chuckle, “Okay—sorry, I got a little carried away.”

You draw the duvet, uncovering the two of you. Peering at the door, you make sure it’s closed. But for good measure, you jump off the bed, running to lock the door—just in case.

Running back, you push Jungkook on his back, crawling on top of him, legs on either side. His cock is erect, ready to go. Your mouth envelops his length, sucking the tip as your hand holds his shaft, pumping and twisting at the same time. His fingers comb through your hair, grasping it lightly. You look up and his dark eyes are focused on your mouth then flicks up to meet yours.

He sucks in a deep breath when you take as much as you can in your mouth, drool glistening as you’re bobbing up and down his hard cock. You hasten your pace, licking and sucking like your life depends on it. Popping off, you rub his tip against your tongue. He’s throbbing, quivering. He’s ready to topple over. You take him in your mouth again.

Jungkook sits up. “Baby—baby, I’m gonna cum. I know you don’t like it when I cum in your mouth.”

You love how considerate he is, but you’re mentally prepared for this. “It’s okay. Cum in my mouth,” you say, going right back to your previous position.

Your eyes flick to his, witnessing the subtle ripple effect of pleasure course through his body. His chest heaving, abs tightening, cock throbbing. With a strangled groan, he spills seed into your mouth. It’s warm, salty to taste, but you continue milking him for all he has.

He opens his eyes with worry because the last time he came in your mouth, you gagged not being prepared for him. But you’re confident and composed, calmly getting up, heading to the bathroom sink to spit out the cum in your mouth.

Standing at the threshold, a huge grin spreads from ear to ear and you open your mouth. “See, I’m totally fine,” you chuckle, heading back to bed. You place a kiss on his lips.

“You’re—” Jungkook grunts, “You’re too much for me sometimes.”

You sit beside him. “I’m too much for you?”

He nods, kissing you again.

And like clockwork, the handle on your door is rattling, busting the pair of you.

[shellbilee]

Hey There Darlin' - Chapter 5

A Glen Powell RPF Series

Apologies for the little hiatus guys. I'm hopeful that I'm back to regular posting, Glen's recent content influx has certainly helped with my inspo! Please comment if you'd like to be tagged! x

Billie

Billie hears a groan of effort and looks back at her phone sitting in the cradle on her dashboard. The metallic sound of dumbbells hitting the floor rings out and suddenly a face fills the screen, familiar brown eyes looking back at her. 

“Alright I’m done with my set now, sorry”.

Billie laughs and shakes her head, looking away from the phone and back at her reflection in her rearview mirror. 

“You’re the one that called me, Brad” Billie counters to her brother, smoothing back the baby hairs near her forehead into her slick ponytail.

Bradley, her brother had facetimed her ten minutes ago, Billie having since pulled into a car park at the address Glen had sent her this morning.

“Yeah, cos’ I feel like we haven’t spoken in ages and I miss my little sis’” Bradley says with a smile before taking a quick sip from his water bottle, “Besides, who else am I gonna speak to at this time? You’re the only one I know that would be awake”.

“Speaking of, why are you doing a workout at----” she pauses, lifting her wrist to check her watch, “Three AM?”. 

Bradley shrugs nonchalantly, as if going to the gym in the early hours of the morning is the most normal thing in the world.

“Just came off a week of night shift. First day sleep routine is always kinda fucked. Couldn’t sleep, so figured I’d come and do a workout rather than wake Jords and the kids”.

“Have you tried reading a book?”.

Bradley pulls a face and Billie can’t help but laugh at it.

“Oh yeah sorry, I forgot you’re allergic to reading” she teases, knowing her fire-fighter brother hated every single second of school and study and she, the book smart one in the family, was the complete opposite.

Bradley rolls his eyes and wipes his face with a sweat towel. “Where are you off to anyway? Gym?”.

Billie looks back at her reflection again - she’s wearing activewear again, this time a pair of tight latte coloured shorts and a white racer back tank whose neckline makes her shoulders look toned.

“I don’t know actually. It’s a date” she says with a soft laugh, looking back down at the facetime call.

Bradley snorts. “A date? Dressed like that?”.

This time it’s Billie’s turn to pull a face.

“He said to wear something I don’t mind sweating in, and to bring a change of clothes”.

Billie swears she can see Bradley’s face morph into older-brother protective mode.

“Don’t mind sweating in? Who is this guy?”.

Billie only smiles. “Just a guy I met at Rufus the other day”.

She stays tight-lipped with the rest of the details - namely, that the guy also happens to be a Hollywood celebrity and is so gorgeous that just looking at him makes her want to melt into a puddle on the floor. Though she and Bradley were close and told each other almost everything, she decided to stay vague about her date. 

Right now, she’s happy being in her exciting first-few-dates bubble. And she isn't ready for it to burst by involving other people. She would tell Bradley later, maybe. 

Bradley starts to ask another question when Billie looks down at her watch, looking back at her phone and interrupting her brother to say she needs to go.

“I’m gonna be late ok? I’ll talk to you later in the week?”

Brad nods, “Yeah yeah, you better. Be safe ok?”

“I always am, Brad. Give my love to Jords and the kids yeah?

“I will. Love you Bil”

“Love you too”.

The call abruptly ends and Billie lets out a deep breath, suddenly aware that her heart is hammering in her chest. She’s nervous, nervous to see Glen again even though she’d seen him less than twenty-four hours ago, though admittedly the last time she’d seen him she’d kissed him without warning.

She can still feel his lips on hers, their plush softness moving against hers in a gentle dance, his scent in her nose, his fingertips on her skin. She’d struggled to think of little else during her bosses housewarming barbecue last night, flashbacks of their kiss invading her every thought as she’d mingled with her work friends.

Billie realizes she’s closed her eyes, opening them a moment later and letting out a breath as she looks out the window at the busy LA street in front of her. She double checks the address on her in-dash car GPS confirming she’s at the right place, before taking a final look at her reflection, grabbing her bag and stepping out of the car.

It’s a sunny Sunday morning in LA, the sunshine instantly blinding as Billie closes her car door behind her, reaching up to shield her eyes and looking at the modern brick building in front of her.

Oh my god. 

It’s the Alo gym.

God, it’s a workout date.

Billie can’t help the breath that escapes her throat then.

Glen really did take her advice about unconventional dates seriously.

Fuck.

Billie sucks in a nervous breath and reaches up to smooth down her hair, making her way towards the entrance and doing her best to ignore the mass of butterflies that have suddenly started flapping wildly in her stomach. She knows it’s nerves, but part of her also knows it’s excitement at the thought of seeing Glen again.

She gulps silently.

Here we go.

--

Glen

Glen’s sitting in the entrance area of the Alo Wellness club, relaxing into one of the sleek, cream coloured lounges. His right leg is bouncing like he needs to go to the bathroom, but he knows it has nothing to do with his bladder.

He looks down at his phone in his hand for what feels like the tenth time in a minute, looking at the numbers above his screensaver of Brisket.

10.02am.

Glen knows he’s nervous, but he doesn’t know why. He’d been on hundreds of dates in the past but for whatever reason this one feels different. 

They’d spent most of yesterday together, talking and laughing for what felt like hours, they’d even kissed yesterday - albeit unconventionally, but still. His stomach is a tangle of nervous thoughts and feelings, and all of a sudden he can’t help but second guess his date idea. 

Billie had said unconventional, but was this taking it too far? Especially so soon?

He’d come up with the idea almost instantly yesterday, calling Keith, his Alo trainer as he’d driven home from his Ikea trip with Billie. Some part of him had decided that a personal training session for the two of them would be a great second date idea, given he and Billie had bonded over their frequent exercise and gym habits.

It ticked all the boxes - it would be an activity she told him she enjoyed, one they both regularly participated in, and it was certainly not a traditional date choice.

It was the kind of activity that he would never even attempt with a lot of girls, let alone on a second date, but with Billie? It seemed like the perfect choice. At least it had when he’d come up with it yesterday.

Glen shakes his head as if he’s arguing with the voice inside his head, ignoring his thoughts and standing firm on his decision. He exhales through pursed lips and flips his phone over in his hand again, looking up when he hears the entrance door open.

In an instant, all of his fears and concerns are gone. 

Billie looks every bit as gorgeous as he remembers, even better if that were possible, his eyes running over her as he watches her ask for directions at the front desk. There’s a smile on his face before he can even think about it, standing up from the lounge just as the receptionist points in his direction.

He feels the breath catch in his throat when Billie’s eyes meet his, and suddenly there’s a smile on her face too - a smile that makes every single muscle in his chest contract.

Glen stays put as she makes her way over to him, unable to help his gaze from following the sway of her hips. She's wearing a pair of light brown coloured shorts and a tight white tank top, both accentuating her fit figure and making her golden skin glow. 

Glen’s fingers tighten around his phone and he fights the urge to bite his fist and audibly groan, suddenly wondering how on earth he's going to get through this date without dying when she looks like that.

“Hey darlin’”.

Billie grins gorgeously. “Hey you”.

Glen steps forward to kiss her cheek just as she does the same, the turn of her head making his lips land dangerously close to her mouth. He sees her cheeks immediately flush as they step apart, and Glen fights the urge to groan out loud again for the second time in thirty seconds. 

Fuck.

If they hadn't been somewhere so public he'd have tipped her chin and pulled her in for a bruising kiss. 

Glen swallows and reaches down to pick up his gym bag, grinning down at Billie.

“So, what do you think?”

Billie tilts her head and smiles, “I see you really were listening when I said unconventional dates”.

Glen laughs. “Told you”.

“So what are we doing?” Billie asks as Glen gestures for her to follow him, heading over to the elevators at the back of the room.

Glen shrugs and presses the ‘up’ button on the wall, looking up when the elevator immediately dings. “You'll find out in a second”.

Billie laughs and flashes a worried smile. “I’m actually kind of terrified”.

He returns her laugh as the doors open and they step into the modern elevator, Glen stepping forward to press the button for level seven. 

“You’ll be fine, I promise”.

The doors close and a moment later they’re going up, Glen struggling to ignore the less than three inches of space between them. That, and the sweet, spicy peach scent of her perfume that’s once again filled his nose, the one that’s plagued his brain since their kiss yesterday, the one that seems to be permanently burnt into his every waking thought for the past twenty-four hours. 

God.

A moment later the elevator dings again and the doors open almost as quickly as they closed, revealing the sprawling, modern black and white gym floor of level seven.

They step out and Glen smiles when he sees Billie look around in awe, spying Keith up ahead standing and talking to Mike, one of the club’s other trainers. Glen nods when Keith sees him, leading Billie over towards him to introduce her.

“Hey bud” Keith says, pulling Glen in for a handshake hug in that way that only men do, Glen stepping back and gesturing to Billie.

“Billie, this is my trainer Keith. Keith, this is Billie”.

They shake hands and Billie smiles, Glen momentarily caught up in how beautiful he thinks she is for the tenth time in only ten minutes.

“Glen’s told me a bit about you. You’re a physical therapist?”

“Yep! I work at Evolution Sports Rehab, on Olympic Boulevard?”

Keith nods, “Ah I know the one. I’ve sent some clients there before actually, to see Ross?”

Billie nods enthusiastically, “Yes! He’s my boss. He’s incredible. He’s a big part of the reason I’ve worked there for so long”.

Glen watches Keith and Billie chat, impressed at the way Billie so effortlessly converses with new people. He smiles to himself as he looks down at her. 

No wonder she’s such a good physical therapist.

Glen takes Billie’s bag off her shoulder and puts their bags aside, returning to stand with her and Keith holding two water bottles in his hands.

“So, what fresh torture have you got for us today?”

Keith laughs and Billie looks mildly terrified, Glen putting his arm around Billie and offering a reassuring squeeze.

“You did say you wanted a bit of a challenge” Keith says pointing at Glen, Billie dropping her head back in dismay, “And you did say that Billie was basically an athlete”.

Billie’s head snaps back up and she looks at Glen in alarm, “An athlete? On what planet?”.

Keith drops his head back and laughs, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding” he says holding his hands up in surrender, “But he did say you work out quite a bit, so I’ve put together a team challenge for you both”.

Keith turns to make his way over to the squat rack, motioning for Billie and Glen to follow. As soon as his back is turned, Billie punches Glen’s arm playfully.

“You have definitely talked me up way too much”

Glen grins as he looks down at her, winking mischievously. “No such thing darlin’”.

Billie grins and rolls her eyes adorably, Glen taking her hand and pulling her until they’re both standing in front of Keith again.

“So, we’re going to do a bit of a circuit challenge. It will be a mix of strength and cardio, but you’ll need to work together to get through it” Keith says, pointing at various equipment around the room. “There will be ten stations, and at each one there will be a rep target which you can divide up between you, so you can sub in and out as you need”.

Glen reaches up to stretch his arms above his head, the corner of his mouth tugging into a sly grin as he looks over at Billie’s wide eyes.

“For example, battle ropes. There will be four hundred reps. Billie you could do one hundred, then Glen does a hundred, and repeat until you get to four hundred. Ideally, the goal is to do the entire circuit in under fifty minutes”.

Billie exhales loudly. “Have you done this exact circuit with people before?”

Keith nods. “The record is forty-six minutes”.

Glen bends his left leg behind him, holding his ankle so he’s stretching out his thigh, glancing down at Billie and back to Keith. He scoffs out loud.

“Forty-six minutes? Easy”.

The look of alarm is back on Billie’s face, though this time she’s looking at Glen like he’s insane. 

Glen can’t help but chuckle at her expression.

“What the hell have I gotten myself into?”

He grins down at her, loving the way she smiles back at him. 

“You said unconventional, remember?”

Billie shakes her head. “I think I’m starting to regret saying that”.

Glen laughs, and they both turn back to Keith.

“So, the key is to know your strengths, and what exercises you’re good or not so good at”.

Billie looks up at Glen, tilting her head playfully.  

“Surely there are no exercise that you’re not good at”.

Glen opens his mouth to speak but Keith beats him to it. “Maybe ask that again when we get to the core exercises”.

Glen pulls a face and both Billie and Keith laugh.

“Alright then” Keith announces, clapping his hands together and looking back at Glen and Billie. “We ready?”

---

Forty-five and a half minutes later, Glen and Billie collapse on the floor on their backs, panting and breathless, and covered in sweat.

Glen feels like his chest is going to explode.

He knows it has nothing to do with the workout he’s just done that has his heart rate hammering at marathon race levels, and everything to do with the stunning, sweaty, sexy girl lying panting next to him right now.

Doing that workout with her was like forty-five and a half minutes of foreplay.  He’d never been so simultaneously impressed and turned on in his life. 

Watching Billie move and jump and squat and press had Glen thinking all kinds of things, things he definitely shouldn’t have been thinking while doing a workout in the gym. He couldn’t help but stare as he did his own exercises, frequently losing count of his own reps, his eyes dragging over her back, her legs, her ass. He was totally enamoured by her, by how strong and fucking sexy she looked, even now as she lay on her back, her chest heaving, breathless from the finishing the fifty burpees they were both determined to get done before the timer ticked over to forty-six minutes.

Glen turns to look over at Billie, his eyes running over her face, her lips parted as she sucks in breaths, her cheeks flushed and covered by a glowy sheen of sweat. He swears she’s never looked more sexy than she has in that moment, and all of a sudden he can’t help but imagine what she'd look like after another kind of cardio that has nothing to do with the gym. 

And nothing to do with clothes.

“That” Billie pauses, sucking in a breath and exhaling loudly, “Was not the way I thought my Sunday would go”

“Probably not the way you thought this date was going to go either” Glen retorts, watching as Billie finally turns to look at him beside her.

She grins at him, that same gorgeous, breathtaking grin, her beautiful eyes sparkling, and it takes everything Glen has not to roll over and kiss her right there in the middle of the gym.

“You guys killed it. Broke the record and everything” Keith says suddenly, standing over the two of them and clapping his hands. “Glen, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you work that hard before. But I guess you had some extra motivation this time”

Glen chuckles and Billie laughs, but it sounds strained through their panting breaths.

“And Billie, that was pretty incredible. You smashed it out of the park, awesome stuff”

“Thanks Keith” Billie breathes, still panting, offering a weak thumbs up before dropping her hand back down to the ground dramatically.

Keith laughs. “You’re welcome”.

They talk for a few more minutes before Keith announces that he has to run to see another client, Keith bending down to shake both of their hands before waving and walking out of the gym. 

Billie sits up and leans back on her hands, her legs still outstretched in front of her. Glen is still lying on his back beside her, dabbing his face with his sweat towel.

“Glen, that was fucked”

Glen tips his head back and laughs, dropping the towel back to the floor. “But you killed it”.

“I think it killed me” Billie replies exasperated, dropping head back and looking up at the ceiling, “I am going to be so sore tomorrow”.

Glen chuckles and moves to sit up from the floor, his sweaty skin sticking to the floor beneath him.

“I really need a shower”.

“That makes two of us” Billie laughs, “But I don’t think I can stand up”.

Glen laughs, letting out a groan of effort as he hauls himself upright and stands. He reaches down for Billie’s hand and pulls her up, unable to stop his eyes from flickering to boobs in the tight white tank she’s wearing.

God.

“I also need food” Billie announces, taking a long sip from her water bottle and smoothing back her sweaty hair,  “I’m suddenly starving”.

Glen nods in agreement. 

“I was going to ask if you wanted to grab a bite after this?” he asks, eyes searching her face as he looks down at her, “If you still have the day free of course”.

Billie’s lips part into a smile, and Glen can’t help the way his own smile grows. 

“My day is totally empty”

“Oh really?” Glen inquires, one eyebrow raised, “Does that mean I can steal you for dinner too?”.

Billie laughs, shrugging her shoulders adorably, “If you don’t get sick of me before then, sure”.

Glen shakes his head and reaches out to touch Billie’s arm, flashing her his most charming grin and loving the way she looks back at him in that moment. 

“I’m not sure that's actually possible Billie”.

Billie smiles, and Glen can’t tell if her cheeks flushing is from their workout or from his comment.

They walk over to their bags, Glen bending and handing Billie hers before bending to pick up his own. 

“Did you want to shower here? Or head home and meet up again?”

Billie shakes her head and holds out her hand, “I brought a change of clothes like you said, I’m happy to shower here. But it’s up to you?”

“No no, here’s good” Glen says, dabbing at his face again with his towel, “You should see the bathrooms here. They're pretty fuckin’ amazing”. 

They walk towards the elevator and step in when the doors open, Billie’s perfume filling his nose as she brushes past. Glen presses the button for level 12, the two standing in comfortable silence as the doors close and they move up the building. 

The elevator dings and the doors open up to the reveal the luxury spa, shower and sauna level, Glen letting Billie step out in front of him.

“The female bathrooms are that way” Glen says, reaching up to run a hand through his sweaty hair, “I’ll meet you back out here?”

Billie nods, looking over in the direction of the bathrooms and back up at Glen with a soft smile.

“See you in a bit”.

---

Billie

This shower is better than the one at Billie’s house. No actually, it's the best shower she's ever used. At the gym of all places. 

It's all dark moody tile and black furnishings, the rainfall shower head providing the most amazing water pressure on her already aching muscles. Not to mention the luxury skin care products that are just free to use.

She’s in shower heaven. 

Or she would be, if Glen was in there with her.

Billie tips her head back and lets the warm water cascade over her, unable to think of little else except Glen. 

The way his muscles had rippled beneath his skin as he’d pulled himself up on the chin up bar, the way his biceps had flexed and moved as he’d picked up each dumbbell. Billie had barely been able to concentrate on her own exercises, not when Glen was looking like that, and certainly not when he was looking at her the way he had been. It was like he wanted to devour her - and if they hadn't been in public, she probably would have let him. 

Right there in the middle of the gym floor.

Their workout has left her feeling all wound up in more ways than one, like forty five minutes of insane heated foreplay without a finish line. If she were at home, she’d probably play with herself. 

She thinks about Glen in the shower, thinking about how badly she wants to have him pressed up naked against her, to feel his thick arms around her frame, his lips on her skin. 

Fuck.

What was this man doing to her?

Forty eight hours of knowing the guy and she's already desperate for him.

She wonders idly if he’s thinking about her the same way she is right now, suddenly remembering that he’s probably waiting for her outside and that she should get on with it. She exhales heavily through her nose and rinses the last of the soap suds from her skin, letting herself enjoy the shower for thirty more seconds before she turns off the tap.

Billie steps out of the shower and dries herself with the fluffiest white towel she’s ever used, changing into a pair of light blue mom jeans and a loose white button up shirt. She looks back at her reflection in the giant mirror of the luxury bathroom, tucking the front of her shirt loosely into the waist of her jeans and buttoning it just enough that it teases just a hint of cleavage.

She reapplies her makeup keeping it glowy and natural, using the gym’s very expensive hair dryer and blow waving her hair just enough that it’s tameable. She pulls her hair back into a loose braid leaving out a few face framing pieces, spritzing her favourite peachy perfume onto her neck and wrists. She steps back and looks over her reflection once more, deciding she’s happy with her look, packing up her things and walking out of the bathroom.

Billie does a double take when she walks out to find Glen sitting waiting for her on one of the cream leather lounges near the elevator, looking somehow even more handsome than he had earlier. 

He’s now dressed in a cream henley shirt and brown trousers, a pair of brown leather boots on his feet. His shirt is unbuttoned just enough that she can see the beginnings of his dark chest hair, his hair still damp from the shower and falling messily but somehow still perfectly.

As if he wasn’t handsome enough just looking like that, Billie feels her breath catch when he looks up and sees her, his lips parting in an utterly gorgeous smile.

Billie tries not to notice the way her body feels as his eyes run over every inch of her, following her hips as she walks towards him.

“You look gorgeous”.

Billie smiles. “See, I was just thinking that about you”.

Glen laughs and stands up in front of her, pressing the button for the elevator and holding open the door for her as they walk in. 

“Were you feeling anything particular for lunch?” he says looking down at her, Billie standing close enough to smell his delicious aftershave and fighting the urge to reply with ‘Besides you?’.

“I’m not fussy”.

Glen nods. “Good, I know just the place”.

---

Glen

“Were you really?” Billie asks, shaking her head in exasperation, “No way, I’ve seen that movie a thousand times, I’d have recognised you”

Glen laughs and nods his head, putting his hand on his heart to emphasize that he’s telling the truth,  “I swear I am. I’m in the stock exchange scene”. 

Billie’s brow furrows, like she’s replaying the scene in her head, and Glen chuckles when she reaches into her purse and pulls out her phone. 

“No way. I have to look this up”.

They’d just had lunch - they’d gotten sandwiches at one of Glen’s favourite spots near the Santa Monica beach. It was a little hole in the wall place with an outdoor courtyard type area at the back, and best of all, it wasn’t too well known about. On this sunny Sunday afternoon, it was the perfect choice.

He and Billie are sitting side by side in a wooden booth together, having just finished their food. They’d been there nearly three hours now, the conversation and laughs between them flowing effortlessly. It’s only been two days, and yet somehow Glen feels like he’s known Billie for months. 

They’d been talking about music choices when they exercised, Billie revealing that she actually liked to listen to movie scores when she ran - namely, superhero movie scores, saying that they made her feel motivated and pumped to keep going. That had brought them to talking about The Dark Knight Rises, at which point Glen had laughed and told her that he was actually in that movie.

He keeps his eyes on her face as she types on her phone, looking over her glowy skin and dark lashes, her full lips that make him want to kiss her for hours.

He hears the beginnings of a video play, the familiar menacing voice of Tom Hardy’s Bane character, watching as Billie’s eyes suddenly light up, her mouth dropping open in surprise.

“Oh my God it is you!” she exclaims adorably, looking up at Glen and then back at her screen still in disbelief, “How have I not noticed that before? How old are you there? You look like a baby”.

Glen laughs and takes a sip of his soda bottle, tapping his fingers against the plastic. 

“Twenty-something---, twenty-four, I think?” he says just as he hears Bane smash his character’s head into a computer.

“You know, I actually got a real concussion during that take. Tom got a bit too into his character and instead of just tapping me on the head like he was supposed to, he actually slammed my head down. Had to go see a medic and everything”

Billie’s eyes widen in shock for the second time, a soft laugh of surprise slipping from her lips. “Oh my god, really?”.

He nods and they both laugh, Glen looking over Billie as she shifts in her seat to better face him.

The afternoon sun is warm and Glen has since shed his jacket, his gaze hidden behind his sleek sunglasses. He takes advantage of that fact, savouring every moment of his eyes on Billie’s available skin, the edge of a pale blue bra peeking out from the dip of her shirt from this new angle.

He tries not to notice the way one of her denim covered thighs is now pressed against his, or the way one side of her white shirt has slipped down to expose her golden collarbone. He finds his imagination wondering what her skin would taste like on his tongue, how it would feel beneath his lips if he kissed along it.

Billie lifts her hand to look down at her watch and back up at Glen.

“You need to go?”. 

“No no, just thinking about Nugget”.

“If you want to go home and check on him it’s okay Billie”

“I want to” she says, her voice trailing off into a pause, “But, I also don’t want to leave”.

Glen smiles back at her, his eyes crinkling behind his sunglasses.

“Well, how about this then?” he asks, reaching up to run his fingers through his now dry hair, “You go home and grab Nugget, and then the two of you come to mine a little later for dinner?”

Billie tilts her head as looks at him, the corner of her mouth tugging into a smile, “Oh that is incredibly tempting”.

He grins and leans in towards her, loving the way her gorgeous hazel eyes are looking back at him. 

“Anything I can do to make it even more so?”

Billie ponders for a moment, her eyes still on his, her tongue sliding out to wet her pink lips.

“Well, for starters, keep smiling at me like that” Billie says, leaning her elbow on the table between them and resting her cheek on her hand, “Do you have any idea how handsome you are? Like, it's almost unfair how attractive you are”.

Glen chuckles softly, the sound rumbling in his throat.

“I’ve been thinking that same thought about you since the moment I met you at Rufus, Billie”.

“Oh really? You think I’m handsome?” Billie teases, a laugh bubbling up in her throat.

Glen only grins, reaching up to brush a loose hair from her face, swearing he sees her suck in a silent breath.

“Actually you know what” Billie breathes, her voice almost a whisper, “I think there is something you can do to tempt me more so”.

Glen raises a curious eyebrow, acutely aware of how close his face now is to hers.

“What’s that darlin?”

Billie exhales quietly, her perfect lips stretching into a soft, sexy smile.

“Kiss me”.

Glen needs no instruction after that.

He tilts Billie’s chin with his finger and angles her face to his, closing his eyes and pressing his lips to hers.

---

Previous Chapter

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[princesssmars]

plsssss do something for michael munroe im so starved

i could change your mind

some college football player mike headcanons.

contains: fluff. some nsfw. american football gross. mike is cocky whats new. fem!reader. hair nor skin color described.

a/n: anon i lowkey miss him too so i'll do a few headcanons for you anon. sorry that my until dawn rewrite is like on hiatus I just feel like it's gonna be such a flop so my brain says it cant be bad if I don't write it ??? idk. ty for making me do this. set in college but i've decided to start a year late so if i get shit wrong sorry scholars. (heart fingers emoji I'm on desktop fml.)

idk why but the first thing that popped into my head was him loving a sport...like he gives smart but also dumbass jock to me we let's go with he did football in high school and he's at college on a scholarship.

if you're like me you don't give two shits about the sport you probably would not like twice in a football player's way, which he definitely sees as a challenge. he'll come up to you in the dining hall and try to hit on you in front of his jock friends, spouting a "whatever you say, sweetheart" when you reject him with a grimace.

to your surprise and horror he's in one of your advanced classes in your second semester, sitting with his feet up next to your seat with a smile when you walk in. you do call him troglodyte for having his shoes on the table but he says with an easy smile that he's in with the teacher who said it was alright.

great.

for the first three weeks, you try to ignore his questions and poking at all costs, but when you get paired up on an important assignment you decide to hold your disdain on pause. he invites you to "study in his dorm" which nearly gives you a migraine, until he chuckles and tells you he's joking, telling you you can meet at common ground and study in the library.

you hold your tongue instead of giving a quip about how he probably won't be able to keep his mouth shut, but once you actually get there you realize the worst thing ever: mike munroe isn't a moron. he's actually pretty smart, maybe nearly as smart as you, and shows pretty good leadership with how he takes in both your academic strengths and divides the workload based on them. its not hard to see why he's the quarterback.

after you get an a+ on your project, you start to warm up to mike. his stupid quips in class start to actually become funny, leading to numerous moments where he makes you snort in class and the professor rolls his eyes.

your friendship soon grows enough that mike has the confidence to invite you to one of his games while you're walking around campus, and if you start to say no he informs you that he will not hesitate to get on his knees and beg in front of everyone. that makes you feel a little weird so you groan and tell him fine.

the whole time you don't really know what's going on, even though ten minutes before he had to get ready he tried to cram all of the rules into your head. even though you don't know everything you can tell when something good happens, like when he makes the touchdown that wins your school the game. he celebrates with his team members and his crowd of fangirls before coming over to you, clearly waiting for you to say football is fun or something,

you don't. but the after-party definitely was. you don't know what that frat guy put in the punch but it was good, and had you nearly drunk in only two hours. nearly being a keyword, because someone who was past the point decided to do a childish game of seven minutes, and you decided to play along for fun.

but it wasn't so funny when they spun the bottle and it landed on you, then the next turn between two people to point towards the couch where mike was watching with his friends. they both burst out laughing at the horrified look on your face as you reluctantly follow him inside the closet.

for the first minute it's quiet, soft noises from the two of you adjusting your bodies in the quiet space and "sorry"'s when you bump into the other.

he takes your silence for uncomfortableness, telling you he's alright with just sitting with you. "one of my favorite things to do actually"

you don't really know why but you kiss him after that. when you pull away you can faintly see his blank face. great. you ruined everything. you're about to give some half-assed excuse before his hand is on the back of your neck and he's pulling you back into him and pressing your body into his.

things get weird after that night.

you're still friends after that night, of course. except now its...different.

you still have your movie nights laughing at people making dumb decisions in horror movies, except now you'll sometimes wind up on mike's lap with your tongue down his throat.

you still text each other stupid pictures you found on snapchat (he insists on using it, fuckboy he is. or used to be, weirdly). except now before you go to sleep he'll send you a picture of his bulge with a smiley face at the bottom. if you send a picture back he'll send a long voice message that you don't open for your own sanity.

but you aren't like. dating. and you don't know why in passing you hear his teammate nick call you "mike's girl". because you aren't. at all.

and plus its not like you've slept together or even gone on an actual date. you're just...closer than normal friends are.

and then he leaves the next december to spend a week with his old friends, and you kind of mope around campus while he's gone. he makes sure to text you constant updates until the night where he arrives at the cabin, where he leaves you delivered for two days. he did say his ex was going to be there, so that nagging voice in the back of your head is telling you the worse.

until you finally get the call from some random number in alberta. when you pick up after some initial confusion you hear mike on the other side.

"mike? what the actual hell? its been two days, thought you somehow managed to get lost in the snow."

he laughed on the other line, able to tell you're insult at his intelligence meant you cared. his voice sounds hoarse.

"yeah, yeah i know. i'm sorry. something came up and i...i've been stuck in this damn police station-"

"police station? jesus, how hard did you guys party."

he calls your name and it's serious. he only sounds like that when something important or bad has happened.

"mike? is everything ok?"

"no, no its not. josh is...he's gone. the cabins gone. we're all pretty messed up."

you don't give a response, waiting for him to elaborate if he wants to.

"i don't know what to say..i'm so sorry."

"it's alright. i'll explain more when i get back. i just wanted to hear your voice."

"now you're really scaring me."

he laughs again, the scratch of his voice returning.

"thank you."

"for what? constantly insulting you and bringing you back to reality?"

"for making me laugh. haven't done it in a while."

"yeah, well...i'll make sure your roommate hasn't completely trashed your dorm. and we can get some takeout. on me, because i'm polite."

"screw that, we're going on a date."

your heart skips.

"did you actually get a concussion because that's not funny."

"im serious. no more being a pussy. time to start getting serious. plus we're basically already dating, so."

"god, why does everyone keep saying that?"

"i'll see you soon."

the phone hangs up and you toss the phone to the side with a slight smile.