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aemondsbabe · 9 months ago

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Give Me an O!

summary: billy walks in on you in a bit of a compromising situation, and you finally go after what you want

pairing: billy hargrove x cheerleader!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, reader is very flexible, minor injury it's fine, piv sex, unprotected sex oopsy daisy, public sex technically, hand over mouth, fingering, breast/nipple play if you blink, dirty talk, reader's hair is long enough that she can have a ponytail but no other physical descriptors are used, billy is a himbo, steve harrington cameo

word count: 5k

a/n: finally getting around to a request from @sweetshifter! thank you for the idea bby & i hope ya enjoy! also, my first time writing for stranger things! yay! images in the header are for aesthetic purposes only!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

gif creds to @unwanted-animal

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“You sure you don’t want me to stay with you?” Your best friend asks as she slings her gym bag over her shoulder, “I don’t mind staying a couple minutes.”

“Nah,” you shrug, still panting a little from practice as you lean to the side with a little sigh, stretching down toward your leg, “You go on, I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

“Alright, cool,” she chirps, glossy lips flicking up into that sincere, beaming smile that had become her signature, “Bye!” She calls over her shoulder as she turns, white tennis shoes thumping against the shiny wooden floor as your name echoes around the gym.

“Bye, Chrissy!” You reply with a smile, glancing up as the heavy metal doors at the side of the room click closed, leaving you alone for the time being.

With a tired huff, you check your watch, one that matched Chrissy’s exactly – gold with a baby pink face. You’d gotten them at the mall last summer, a joint birthday present.

4:34pm.

A sigh leaves your lips as you lunge forward, hands planted firmly on your hips as you try to ignore the slight burn in your thigh. So, that’s… like, forty-five minutes until basketball practice starts, you think, eyes pointed up at the white metal ceiling as you do mental math, trying to figure out exactly how long you’ll have to work on your stretches.

Deciding to give yourself a few more minutes before calling it a day, you breathe out steadily through your pursed lips as you switch sides and lunge forward again, savoring the light burn in your calf. After a fifteen second count, you move onto your hands and knees, needing to stretch out your back.

You hum softly under your breath, one hand planted firmly against the blue tumbling mat beneath you as the other reaches back and grabs onto one of your ankles, your limbs forming a graceful arch above you. A small grunt leaves you as you pull your leg up as high as you can, before dropping it down and reaching back with your other hand to do the other side. Mid-pose, you swear you hear one of the gym doors click open, the one out to the hallway with the locker rooms and various storage closets judging by the direction, but you’re so focused on holding your pose, you honestly can’t be sure.

Huffing, you decide to just ignore it – Probably just the janitor or something, you think, keeping your eyes focused, once again, on the white metal ceiling as you roll over onto your back.

Breathing steadily, you let your eyes slip closed as you press both legs together before slowly lifting them up, using your hands and elbows to support your back as you lift onto your shoulders. Wincing slightly at the twinge of pain from your left one, you work through it, trying to keep your breath steady. As your green and gold cheer skirt pools at your waist, you silently pray that if it is a janitor, that it’s at least not the creepy one.

Slowly but surely, you work both legs up and over your head until the tips of your white sneakers press into the mat, your arms planted firmly onto the floor for support.

One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, you count silently, breathing a little shakily as you focus on balancing… and on ignoring your shoulder.

Suddenly, a loud wolf-whistle cuts through the silence of the gym, punctuated by a few slow claps and the heavy footsteps of someone walking across the wooden gym floor.

“Aah!” You squeak as you topple to the side, concentration thoroughly broken. Huffing, you prop yourself up on one elbow as your head snaps up, eyes already narrowed into an irritated glare. Upon seeing who it is, you can’t help but sneer.

“Can I help you, Hargrove?” You sigh, exasperated, rolling your eyes as you angle both legs out in a side split, determined to get through your stretches even with the added annoyance of Billy’s presence.

“Just admiring the view, princess,” he drawls, blue eyes trailing up the length of each of your spread legs in a way that makes your cheeks flush, “You’re real good at that, aren’t you?” He questions, plump lips quirked up into that signature, flirtatious smirk.

“Good at what?” You ask, brows furrowing as you bend over to the left, easily grasping the toe of your tennis shoe as the muscles in your legs stretch into a taut, familiar ache.

He chuckles at that, hands on his hips as he studies you, the spicy, woodsy smell of his cologne filling the space around you. He cocks his head to the side, pearly white teeth flashing every few seconds as he chews a piece of gum.

“Stretching,” he all but purrs, golden curls blowing slightly from the large fans that hum loudly on the ceiling. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he ogles at you, watching carefully as you bend to the right, “I bet it’d be really easy to just fold you up like a pretzel, huh, sweets?”

With a sigh, you finally let yourself relax for a moment and tilt your head up to look at the boy as you lean back on your hands, your ponytail swishing across your shoulder blades as you do.

“In your dreams, Billy,” you murmur, trying to keep the expression on your face plaid, wholly uninterested, which is easier said than done.

You don’t like Billy, and you’re very quick to correct anyone who says you do, even if it is just friendly teasing. But, well, there’s something about him that just draws people into his orbit – charisma combined with a certain mystique. You knew from talking to the girls in the locker room that he was a lady’s man, and a player, but from how they all talked about him, there appeared to be something more there, some hidden layer that no one had been able to crack yet. He’s different from the other boys in Hawkins, no small town charm to hide behind.

Plus, come on, he’s gorgeous. You might not be Billy’s biggest fan but you have eyes.

“Damn right, in my dreams,” he murmurs, pulling you from your thoughts as he draws out every syllable of your name in a low, husky tone, familiar smirk playing at his lips like always.

Cocking your head, you narrow your eyes as you peer up at him, “Aren’t you going out with Amber now?”

“Wouldn’t exactly call it going out…,” he answers as he bends down on one knee to retie the laces of his shoe, shooting you a little wink as he does so.

“Does Amber know that?”

He pauses at that, a little huff of laughter bubbling up from his chest as he fixes you with a grin that is much too self-satisfied for your liking. “Now, princess,” he starts slowly, blue eyes narrowing at you playfully as he rests a forearm across his knee, “Why do you care so much about what I’m doing with Amber?”

“She’s my friend, Billy,” you say, sitting up a little more, the chill from the AC units making the hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end.

“So, it’s definitely not because you’re, I dunno, jealous or anything?”

“No!” You cringe inwardly as you say it, too quick and too defensive and just what the blue eyed boy had been hoping for, judging by the smug grin plastered on his face.

This is how it’s been between the two of you for months now, ever since his stupid Camaro had rumbled into the school’s parking lot way back in August. Since then, it’s been a whirlwind of teasing jokes, sitting through History class after History class as you feel those blue eyes practically boring a hole in the back of your head, and somehow mustering up the willpower to dodge his advances.

In the nearly three months since his arrival, Billy had managed to charm his way through at least a handful of girls, maybe more depending on which rumors you listen to, but you are determined not to fall for it, not to be just another notch on his bedpost.

Which would be a lot easier if he’d leave you the hell alone.

Flustered, you pull your knees up, tucking your chin over top of them as your arms wrap around your calves, silently rolling your eyes as Billy drops to the blue tumbling mat, rolling onto his back with a satisfied sigh, making it clear to you that he was here to stay.

“Why’re you here so early, anyway?” You question, glancing at your watch once more, “Basketball practice isn’t for, like, another half hour.”

“Had to drop my stupid step-sister off at some trash arcade,” he grunts, annoyed, “Didn’t wanna waste the gas to go all the way home, plus…,” he pauses, tilting his head to the side to slyly grin at you once more, “I figured I might get here early enough to catch the end of cheer practice.”

“Creep,” you scoff, much more playfully than you’d intended to.

The two of you fall into a, surprisingly, comfortable beat of silence. You let your eyes trail over Billy as his own droop shut, one arm propped behind his head as he lazes on the gym mat, jaw clenching every so often as he works the gum in his mouth. You start at his feet, taking in the faded black canvas material of his Converse before you let your eyes roam up his long, tanned, muscular legs. Finally, you reach the familiar dark green shade of his school-branded shorts and your eyes wander up the expanse of his stomach and chest, covered by the grey t-shirt he wears, the familiar eyes of Hawkins High’s tiger mascot staring blankly into your own.

You nearly gasp as your eyes trail up to his face again, only to find his steely eyes already looking at you, a knowing smirk etched into his face as you feel the apples of your cheeks flush.

“It’s rude to stare, princess,” Billy drawls, catching you red handed.

“And it’s not rude to perv on me stretching?”

“Never said it wasn’t,” he shrugs with a little chuckle, sitting up and resting one forearm on a bent knee. You merely roll your eyes as he studies you for a second, the blush on your cheeks deepening enough that you can feel the slight tingle of blood rushing under the surface.

“Whatever,” you sigh, shaking your head as you stretch your legs out in front of you again. You stretch forward again, letting out a breath as you grab at your ankles and try to ignore the way Billy sits up, propping his forearm up on a bent knee.

“Could you, like, put your legs behind your head and all that?”

“Probably,” you say with a little eye roll.

“Will you?”

“Not for you!”

The two of you carry on like that for a moment longer — you working through various stretches and familiar yoga poses as Billy seems overly curious about each one, questioning if you can twist into all kinds of poses.

“Can you do a handstand and do the splits?” He questions, grinning when you groan in frustration, eyes trailing up your long legs to the bottom of your short cheer skirt.

With a huff, you stand with one hand on your hip, the other pinching at the bridge of your nose as Billy’s incessant questions throw you off the silent count in your head again.

“Did you want something or are you just trying fuck me over?”

“Mmm, close, princess,” the blond teases, earning another glare from you. Playfully, he holds his hands up in surrender, “You’re single, aren’t you?” He asks, smirking triumphantly at the way you balk.

“I’m not talking about this with you, Hargrove.”

His smirk widens when you don’t deny it, blue eyes darkening as they travel over the length of your body once more. “Look, all I’m saying is that the guys talk in the locker room and… well, I can’t help but notice that your pretty name just doesn’t come up.”

“Maybe I have better things to do than put out for you assholes,” you smirk, quickly stretching out your problem shoulder before kneeling back on the tumbling mat, meaning to finish up with a couple quick pushups.

Undeterred, Billy merely matches your smirk with one of his own, watching as you kneel next to him. “Just come with me to Harrington’s Halloween party next weekend, sweetness,” he offers, his voice a low rumble, “Come on, a couple hours, some drinks. Hell, I’ll even dress up with you, whatever you want.”

“Hmm,” you hum, taking a second to tighten your ponytail as you shoot him a playful little smile, “Whatever I want, huh?”

“Name it,” he says lowly, watching appreciatively as you get on all fours.

“Okay, how about…,” you stall, drawing out your words as you extend your legs behind you, grunting softly as your shoulder zings with pain once more, “Willie and Indiana Jo– Ah!” You cut yourself off, exclaiming in pain as you land with a small thud on the mat, wincing.

“Whoa, hey,” Billy says softly, scrambling onto his knees, brows furrowed as he gingerly helps you roll over onto your back, “You okay?”

You nod, glancing away with a little embarrassed huff as you rub at your shoulder. “Yeah, it’s nothing. I just probably sprained it earlier during practice or something.”

“Lemme take a look at it,” he says, offering a hand to help you up.

Not expecting such chivalrous behavior from Hargrove of all people, you only nod dumbly and let him pull you up off the mat, chest heaving.

“Here,” he murmurs, gently nudging at your arm until you turn your back to him. You can hear the tumbling mat crinkle as he steps closer to you, the warmth from his chest practically radiating through his t-shirt as the spicy musk of his cologne seems to envelope you once again.

“You better not be using this as an excuse to feel me up,” you warn, albeit playfully, pulling your ponytail over the opposite shoulder.

“In your dreams,” he teases, goosebumps peppering your skin from the low way he says your name and from the gentle brush of his fingers over the back of your arm as they trail their way up to your shoulder.

He’s silent for a moment, carefully pressing warm, slightly rough fingers against your skin, watching until you wince just slightly when he pokes at your shoulder blade. “That’s where it hurts?”

“Mhm,” you nod, lips parting ever so slightly as he kneads around the area. You can practically feel him smirking when you sigh a moment later, his fingers working perfectly over the sore muscle as his other hand anchors itself at your hip, “You’re… actually, like, really good at this,” you murmur with a little laugh, needing to find some way to break the silence.

“My mom is – was, she was a masseuse, back when we lived in Cali,” Billy explains, leaning in closer, his lips all but brushing against your ear as he speaks softly, like he’s telling you some deep, dark secret, “I might’ve looked at one or two of her books.”

“Really?” You ask, brows furrowing as you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder.

“Sue me, I was thirteen and they had nudes in ‘em,” he chuckles, biting into his bottom lip when your breathy laugh morphs into a moan when he presses just right against your shoulder. The fingers of his other hand tighten on your hip as he pulls you back against him, his lips just barely grazing over the crook of your neck, “But I still picked up a thing or two.”

“Clearly,” you breathe, brows tugging together as you tilt your head to the side, an open invitation. The blond doesn’t need any more convincing and you let your eyes flutter shut as his lips descend upon your neck, pressing hot kisses against the sensitive skin.

The rise and fall of your chest grows shallow as the two of you seem to lose yourselves; you gasp as the hand on your hip trails down over your thigh, until Billy can drag the tips of his fingers beneath the white and gold hem of your pleated skirt just as the hand on your shoulder begins slowly moving around your ribs, to your front. Despite the AC units humming away, you can’t help but feel flush as he presses himself against you, already half-hard against the small of your back.

With a gasp, you jerk away from him at the sound of a door opening and closing in the hallway, muffled voices and laughter filtering in through the closed doors of the gym.

“Dammit,” Billy mumbles behind you as he quickly glances at the clock hanging above one of the exits, sighing disappointedly when he sees the time – fifteen minutes until practice.

Deciding to finally give in to the wants you’ve been harboring for months, you grab one of his hands and playfully bite your lip, nodding to one of the sets of gym doors, “Follow me.”

Smirking, he follows behind you as you quickly make your way to the doors, both of you pausing for a second to make sure the coast is clear before you bolt down the hallway. A second later, you’re pushing Billy through a door into a random classroom.

“This is the old Health room,” you explain, gasping as he turns and presses you against the old door, the metal of it cool against your back as you quickly scan over the empty room, dim other than the early evening light spilling in through the thin slats of the blinds, “No one ever comes in here.”

“Uh huh, fascinating,” he nods, turning his head to spit his gum into a small trash can by the door, before eagerly pressing his lips to yours. He smirks into the kiss as you mewl, his lips parting to quickly swallow the sweet sounds you make.

Always one to give as good as you get, your lips move against his just as fervently, both of your hands trailing up underneath his t-shirt as you rub over his stomach, muscles taut under your touch. His tongue slips into your mouth in the same second he presses against you, his thin gym shorts doing nothing to conceal the hardness of his length as it presses against your lower stomach.

You arch into his touch as his hands cup your breasts through your uniform, a low growl rumbling through his chest as you rake your nails over his chest and down his stomach. Boldly, you reach down and palm at his cock, savoring the surprised grunt he lets out before you quickly nudge your hand down the front of his shorts and into his boxers.

“Shit,” he breathes, one hand still kneading at your breast as the other skates back up your thigh, his forehead resting against yours. Biting your lip, you watch through hooded eyes as you experimentally stroke over his cock, marveling at how hard he already is, like velvet over steel.

Just as you feel him twitch in your grasp, the blond pulls away from you with a teasing grin and presses one last kiss against your lips before tapping the back of your thighs, urging you to jump.

“Fuck, there you go,” Billy rasps, fingers digging into the curve of your ass as you clamber up into his arms, your shoulder only barely smarting as you wrap your arms around his neck. “I gotcha,” his muscular biceps flex as he quickly walks a few feet from the door and deposits on you on top of the, thankfully barren, teacher’s desk pushed haphazardly into the corner.

“Billy,” you sigh, the sound being practically pushed from your lungs as he presses himself back between your thighs, cheer skirt rumbled around your waist as he all but folds you in half – your hands cling to his shirt desperately, one leg wrapped securely around his hip as the other ends up slung nearly over his shoulder.

“Yeah, princess?” He taunts with a wolfish grin, smirking at the way the muscles of your thigh twitch as his fingers move toward your pussy, hardly hidden beneath your boyshorts. You all but levitate off the desk as two of his fingers swipe over your slit, the apples of your cheeks flushing when he chuckles triumphantly, the thin cotton doing nothing to hide how wet you are. “Finally gonna give me what I want?”

You can feel your ponytail bobbing wildly at the crown of your head when you nod, a whiny moan blooming from your lips when he moves his fingers in tight circles against your clit, the flimsy material of your underwear quickly dampening against his touch.

“Yeah, yeah, Billy,” your hands tremble as you pull at his t-shirt, desperate for what you’ve been wanting for so long, “C’mon, please!”

“Easy, tiger,” he laughs, tongue running over his bottom lip as he easily tugs his shirt over his head, your own hands scrambling to push down your boyshorts. Taking mercy on you yet again, he helps you, eagerly tugging the white cotton down your legs. He damn near tears them in two as he pushes your underwear over one sneaker, letting them dangle from your ankle.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, crowding against you again as you lean back on the desk, propped up on your elbows. You stare up at him, lips parted, as he all but folds you in half, warm hands pressing against the backs of your thighs, “Fucking leaking and I’ve barely touched you.”

“Oh!” You hiss, trying your hardest to keep your voice down, head thudding back against the desk as Billy quickly tugs his shorts down, just enough to get his cock out, and teasingly runs it through your folds, “Billy, oh my God, just do it!” You all but beg, teeth biting into your bottom lip at the wet sounds of him moving against you, deafeningly loud in the otherwise quiet room.

Were you anywhere else, Billy would have absolutely no qualms about teasing you to within an inch of your life – payback for playing cat and mouse with him for almost three months straight. Lucky for you, he’s just as nervous at the thought of getting caught with his pants down as you are, shuddering to think what Neil would do if he got expelled over this.

With a barely contained growl, he pushes into you, his cock sliding easily to the hilt with how wet you are. Your back arches off the desk as he slides home, stretching you beautifully as he fills you completely.

“Oh – oh my God,” you breathe as he stills, giving you a few seconds to adjust. Your hands scramble over the smooth top of the desk before you grab onto his wrists as his hands hook behind your knees.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans – the way he grumbles your name makes your walls clench around his length, punching another grunt from his chest as he starts shallowly thrusting against you, grinding his hips against yours.

The two of you dissolve into a flurry of breathy mewls and sighs, each of you desperately trying to keep quiet as the muffled sounds of skin against skin and the dull creaking of the desk fill the room. Your eyelids flutter as you watch Billy above you, golden curls bouncing with each of his thrusts as a light sheen of sweat covers his tanned chest.

Grunting lowly, he presses harder against the backs of your thighs, practically pressing your kneecaps against the desk below you, blue eyes sparkling as you easily follow his movements. With the small change in angles, the head of his cock thrusts perfectly against that sensitive spot within you, and he grins triumphantly as you tremble beneath him.

“That the spot, princess?” He questions, smirking when you nod your head with a little broken squeak, “Fuck, I can’t wait to get you in a bed – bet you can bend in all kinds of pretty ways, huh?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah, Billy,” you agree, willing to agree to just about anything as long as he keeps moving. You can hardly contain the moans spilling from your lips as he works you higher and higher, the adrenaline from the possibility of getting caught as well as the rush of finally having him making you rush toward your end faster than you normally would.

Breathing heavily as your pussy clenches at his cock, he lets go of one of your thighs and shoves your shirt up, unceremoniously taking your bra with it. You bite at the back of one hand as he teases at your breasts, using one hand to pinch and pull at one nipple before moving to the other as he stares down at you with half-lidded eyes, brows furrowed in concentration.

“O-Oh, my – fuck, I’m –” You moan brokenly, squirming beneath him as you feel yourself nearing the edge, teeth biting desperately into your bottom lip as you claw at his forearm and waist.

Cockily licking over his lips, Billy leans forward as he grinds against you, his hips putting pressure on your clit as he covers your mouth with one hand, propping himself up against the desk with an elbow as his other still grasps at the back of your knee.

You squeeze him tightly as the tail end of his happy trail rubs deliciously over you, giving you just enough stimulation to throw you over the edge.

“Yeah, princess,” he encourages, grunting with nearly every thrust into you as he feels you clenching around him, pushing him further and further toward his own edge as he clenches his jaw, determined to hang on as long as possible.

After only a few more thrusts, he quickly pulls out with a small groan. “Fuck, fuck,” he pants, chest heaving as he strokes his cock, painting your lower belly with stripes of his release.

Both of you still for a moment, breathing heavily as you each come down. Half expecting Billy to simply get dressed again and leave, you’re surprised when he softly kisses you, more relaxed this time, as his warm breath fans over your cheek. Dazedly, you kiss him back, your lips moving together unhurriedly as you card your fingers through the sweat-damp curls at the nape of his neck.

After a moment, you part and your lips quirk up into a shy smile as he moves back half a step, giving you enough room to sit up.

“Oh, uh,” you breathe, looking down when you feel his cum cooling against your skin. Glancing around the room, you pout a little when you don’t see any tissues or paper towels, “There’s paper towels in the locker room?” You offer, looking over at Billy, watching as he quickly tugs his shorts back into place.

“I got it,” he says with a small smirk and before you have time to question what he means, he quickly tugs your underwear off your ankle and uses them to wipe at your skin, grinning meanly when you look up at him with wide eyes.

“Jackass!” You exclaim, laughing softly despite yourself, “That’s the only pair I have with me!”

“Nothing wrong with going commando, sweetness,” he says with a wink, chuckling when you wrinkle your nose at the thought while you pull your bra and shirt back into place, “Come back to my place and I’ll was ‘em for you, my parents don’t get back until late, anyway.”

“You just want a round two,” you laugh, hopping off the desk and straightening out your skirt the best you can before running your hands over your hair, trying to smooth out your ponytail.

“Told you I was gonna fold you up all pretty,” Billy smirks, crowding against you yet again once he tugs his shirt back on and lightly grasping at your jaw, “Something tells me you won’t have a problem with that either.”

“That’s presumptuous, don’t you think?”

“Sure, yeah, I dunno what that means, princess,” he says, grinning when you laugh, your hands pressed against his chest as he quickly tucks your boyshorts into the waistband of his shorts, “Just come back to my place, hm?”

“What about basketball practice? Jason hates when people ditch.”

“You really think I give a shit about what Carver wants?” Billy laughs, taking one of your hands in his as he makes his way toward the door.

“Okay, okay, fine,” you finally agree, rolling your eyes playfully as you let him pull you out into the hall.

“And come with me to the Halloween party?”

“You have quite a list of demands, Hargrove.”

“Hey,” he says with a little shrug, glancing at you as you walk side by side toward the locker rooms, “That’s what you get for teasing me.”

You merely giggle as the two of you round a corner, nearly freezing and nervously glancing over at Billy when you come across Steve, chest heaving as he leans over a water fountain.

Standing straight, he wipes at his lips with the back of his hand, narrowing his eyes at Billy, watching as he quickly scoops up his duffle bag from where he’d tossed it down earlier in the hallway. “Dude, why’re you leaving? You’re almost, like, half an hour late for practice.”

“Yeah, well, tell Carver something came up,” the blond boy huffs dismissively before taking your hand once more. You shoot a bashful smile at Steve, blushing as you and Billy walk toward the doors out to the parking lot.

Behind you, Steve takes a minute to connect the dots, brows furrowing as he plants his hands on his hips. After a second, his eyes widen and he shakes his head.

“Come on, at school?” He calls down the hallway, shaking his head as you and Billy laugh, “Fucking animals, man.”

gen tags: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @wickedfrsgrl @echos-muses @imawhorecrux @avidreader73 @marvelescape @rae-11 @ms-morningstarr @chaotic-fangirl-blog @grsveeth0m @twglitching @hb8301 @delulumhaggy @burntliquorlips @fan-goddess @cl-0-vr @kittendoll05 @beautbuck @eponaartemisa @trshngyn @brettlovessuckingcocks @alerisc @moonriseoverkyoto @wolfdressedinlace @do-double-g @kennafild @cruelworldlana @mheraxes @eternallyvenus @chaotic-fangirl-blog @simp-hub-bro @badxbabyyy @venchi-cremino

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#my writing #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove smut #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things smut #dacre montgomery #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #smut

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seonghrtz · 9 months ago

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𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 ✶ geto suguru

꒰ daylight ! ꒱ geto suguru, a powerful fairy who has had his wings taken from him, finds himself falling in love with the girl who has been cursed by his mother.

❛❛ if you're kind, you might discover something extraordinary you can do ❜❜

pairing. fairy!geto suguru x (aurora)fem!reader.

contents. maleficent universe, fluff, angst, childhood friends to lovers, forbidden love (?), he fell first he fell harder, royal!au, slight age gap (geto is 4 y.o older than reader), mentions of death, maleficent is geto's mom, ooc geto.

amy's note. hi sweetie, this is amy!!! i was so excited to write this one in particular. i love geto so much, and i think he deserves more, but since we are talking about him, it will obviously have a little angst, but with lots of cute and happy moments. i think geto is the one who best fits the whole aesthetic of maleficent, and here we are!!! i hope you enjoy it and have a good read <3

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

𝕺𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄, there was a vast enchanted forest called the Moors. This forest existed a long time ago, even before humans settled within its borders, and it was home to countless magical creatures who lived free. Creatures that humans had never dreamed could exist. They all had their uniqueness and strangeness, and even though they were from different species, they lived in harmony with each other ⸻ something that sometimes even members of the same species could not do. The Moors were neither a kingdom nor a dynasty. Hierarchy was unknown among its inhabitants, everyone was equal (even with their differences). However, the forest had its guardians, the fairies. Fairies, specifically forest fairies, were powerful beings who served as protectors of the forests. They were responsible for keeping the Pillar of Harmony intact and protecting the forest from those with evil and malicious intentions.

When the first humans established their kingdom near the edge of the forest, the relationship between them and the inhabitants of the Moors was one of the best ⸻ which seemed surprising. Curiosity ran through both worlds, which were close but different in many ways. However, as the years went by, this friendly relationship seemed to become more unstable and fragile.

Until the fateful day when Moors lost his guardian to human greed.

Stefan, the young prince of the human kingdom, had greed and selfishness in his heart when he tried to dream that one day he could control the Moors as well as his own kingdom. But things didn't go according to plan and it backfired.

On a frosty dawn, Stefan and a few guards set out on a mission to capture the wings of the Moors' guardian fairy, imprison her, and finally take over the forest. Not as discreet as they should have been, they entered the forest before dawn, armed and determined. Things began to go wrong when, instead of capturing the guardian fairy, they first captured her four-year-old son, Geto Suguru.

The little fairy boy, who was absent-mindedly wandering through the forest, watching the day creatures rest while the night creatures went on with their lives, didn't notice the humans approaching with their evil intentions, and the next thing he knew, he was grabbed by the arms. The boy whimpered and cried, trying desperately to free himself from the arms that were twice his size and stronger than his frail frame. Geto let out an agonizing scream as he felt the metal chains wrapped around the beginning of his wings. The pain and burning made the boy choke on his screams and tears, which mingled into a painful sound.

Once Stefan had gained the wings of the helpless child, he pursued his ambition to gain the wings of the Guardian of the Moors. Geto was thrown to the side, writhing in pain and crying for his lost wings. The pain seemed unbearable. Not just the physical pain, but the pain of knowing that he could no longer fly, that he would never touch the sky again. His freedom in the sky, where no one could reach him, had been taken from him when he was still a helpless child.

"My son..." Geto heard his mother's voice and her footsteps approaching his slumped body. "My dear son... what have they done to you?"

"There you are, Guardian of the Moors." Stefan spat out the words with contempt.

"Young Prince Stefan of the realm of men..." the fairy said, trying to control her anger, "Give my son back his wings!”

"If you give me yours, I might think about returning his... if I don't take them for myself in the future."

"You will regret this moment." The woman's hand closed tightly on her staff.

"And why would I regret it? You're a freak!"

"Your wife is pregnant with a beautiful baby girl who is about to be born, and in a few months, if not weeks, you will take over your human kingdom... it would be a shame to have something as precious as your daughter taken away from you."

"How do you know that, you witch?!" the man shouted angrily.

"Listen, everyone," the fairy said, drawing everyone's attention as a green spell emanated from her, "The princess will indeed grow up with grace and beauty and be loved by those who know her, but at sunset on her eighteenth birthday, she will stick her finger through the spindle of a spinning wheel and then fall into the deep sleep of death! A sleep from which she will never awaken unless awakened by a kiss of true love! And this curse will last forever, no power on earth can change it!"

"How dare you curse my daughter, barely born!" Stefan drew his sword from its sheath and positioned himself to attack the guardian.

"And how dare you rip my son's wings off and think you'd get away with it!"

Geto's eyes blurred with tears and an unbearable pain in his back as he watched his mother fight the future king. The little boy couldn't keep up with what was happening, his head was spinning and the only thing he could see was his mother's last breaths as she was caught off guard at a clear disadvantage in the unfair fight. As his mother fell to her knees, he felt the earth tremble and huge thorns grow larger along the edges of the Moors. Frightened, and not knowing what those giant thorns were, Stefan and his companions fled with Geto's wings, happy that they had killed the guardian of Moors and won her son's wings. Without enough strength, the boy crawled over to his mother's fallen body. He rocked the woman from side to side, trying to wake her, but his actions seemed to be in vain. His mother's heartbeat could no longer be heard. With a tightness in his chest, Geto lay down on his mother's lifeless body and cried himself unconscious.

Deep down, he wished this was all just a nightmare that would end the next day. And he would live happily ever after with his mother.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ✶

With the Wall of Thorns, Moors was protected from any threat from humans or any other creature that tried to take over the forest. Geto thought that time would make him forget that tragic night in his life, but he couldn't have been more wrong. But time only helped him develop a dislike for humans and their arrogance and greed. Time helped Geto work hard to train his powers and learn to live without his wings. Even at the age of eight, he had incredible abilities that might have taken longer to learn.

The sun was rising in the east, and while the nocturnal creatures went to their shelters, the daytime creatures awoke to the sun's rays and began their day. Little Suguru, eight years old, followed the forest path to a lake he always went to in the morning. Ever since he was a baby, his mother had taken him to the pond to pick some of the plants that grew around the edge of the pond. It was a little routine that kept his mother's memory alive.

Geto just didn't expect to be followed that morning.

"Who's there?" The boy turned when he heard the hurried footsteps, but there was no one there. He returned to his destination, but the footsteps followed him again, "Whoever it is, I don't want to play!" A low chuckle echoed through the room, causing Geto to roll his eyes. With an idea in his head, he started on his way again. When the one following him was least expecting it, Suguru quickly turned around to see a little girl half his age fall to the ground, startled by the boy's sudden movement, "What do you think you're doing following me?" Geto crossed his arms in front of him, but all he got in return was a giggle.

Geto watched the little girl sitting on the ground. She didn't seem to belong to any of the species that sheltered in the Moors. She resembled Geto physically, but she didn't have wings or a pair of horns.

"Why do you have horns?" the little girl asked with a smile. She stood up, slapped her hand on her baby blue dress, brushed the dirt off it, and stared at the boy in front of her.

"Because I'm a fairy." Geto rolled his eyes and returned to his morning chores, "Now leave me alone!"

"My fairy aunts don't have horns!" The little girl followed Geto with light footsteps.

"That means we are a different kind of fairy."

"Wow! There's more than one kind of fairy?" the little girl smiled, "I'd like to be a fairy!"

"And why would you like to be a fairy?" asked Geto curiously.

"Because you have magic powers! And some fairies can fly too!" she said, her eyes shining, "I can't do anything interesting or unique, even though my fairy aunts keep telling me I'm a princess, whatever that means, I don't have anything extraordinary about me..."

"If you're kind, you might discover something extraordinary you can do."

"Can I... can I touch your horns?" The little girl asked.

"Um, just once!" Geto leaned down a bit so that the little one could touch his horns.

Geto thought that this little interaction would end right there, and that he would never see this little girl again in the vast forest. He just didn't expect her to come down to the lake with him every morning to talk about anything and everything.

Her presence could fill the boy's loneliness.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ✶

When that little girl told him there was nothing extraordinary about her, Geto was absolutely sure it was a lie. And he seemed to prove it with every passing year. And the passing years never scared Geto, but perhaps his feelings were the only things that could scare him.

Within a few months, the presence of the little human at his side had become commonplace. It was difficult to spend any time apart. They had become inseparable best friends. They were always running around in the forest, playing with each other and with the other creatures that lived there. And from time to time, the girl even helped Geto practice controlling his magic. They shared stories and secrets.

And there was only one secret that he had never shared with her...

Every day, Geto Suguru fell more and more in love with that gentle, delicate human being.

Geto didn't know when he fell in love, for him there was no right moment, he just fell in love. And maybe his feelings were the biggest problem. They couldn't be together, not when they were from different species, or when she was the child his own mother had cursed before she died ⸻ a fact that wasn't hard to discover. The young fairy would have to suppress his feelings and accept that they could never be together in this universe. However, Geto decided to enjoy every minute of his friendship with the human who had stolen his heart until her eighteenth birthday, when she would return to her home ⸻ the human kingdom.

"It's a very nice gift, I'm sure she'll like it," said Dival, the shape-shifter who had been rescued by Geto's mother and had since become the advisor and right hand of the Guardians of the Moors ⸻ and who had also advised Geto in his training.

"It's just a souvenir..." Geto sighed, looking at the amethyst necklace he had made.

"You should tell her your romantic feelings for her..." Dival watched the quick movements of the boy's chest.

"I can't do that, Dival"

"Why not?"

"First of all, she is a princess. Just as I have my responsibilities as the guardian of the Moors, she has hers as the future ruler of the human kingdom. Besides, we're different species. You know how humans treat anything that is different by their standards. Not to mention that we're just friends, that's how she sees me and will always see me..."

"And all this keeps you from being happy in love?" Dival crossed his arms.

"These things aren't as easy as they seem..." Geto sighed softly, "Especially when your feelings aren't reciprocated.

"You should definitely get rid of this idea of unrequited love. She likes you! You can see how she looks at you and how she treats you!"

"It is not like that! She's just kind to me, like she is to all beings. I don't get any special treatment." Geto clutched the amethyst necklace in his hand, afraid of losing it, and left for the young princess' house. "See you soon, Dival!"

"How stubborn he is!" Dival muttered to himself as he watched Geto's figure disappear between the thick-stemmed trees in this part of the forest.

The conversation he'd had with Dival a few minutes ago replayed in his mind: could she possibly reciprocate his romantic feelings?

The answer seemed to be right in front of him…

Geto stopped walking quickly when he noticed the young princess singing a love song while dancing with another human. Perhaps Suguru had to worry about how this tall, white-haired, blue-eyed young man had managed to get past his mother's wall of thorns. But the dreamy smile on the young woman's face made his heart squeeze with pain and fear. The fairy looked away and decided that it would be best to wait until the princess left for her kingdom to deliver her gift ⸻ if only he had the courage.

The young fairy made his way to the lake he used to go to with his mother, which had become one of his meeting places with the young princess, and sat on a rock by the shore, watching the crystal clear water and the aquatic creatures that lived there. Geto didn't know how long he stayed there, pondering feelings that should never have blossomed.

"Sugu!" The princess's voice snapped Geto out of his deep thoughts, and the boy turned back, murmuring her name.

"What are you doing here?" Suguru asked, she should have been on her way to the castle by now.

"You didn't think I would leave without saying goodbye, did you?" The girl smiled and sat down next to the boy.

"I thought you'd be more excited to see where you came from and to see your parents again."

"Yes, I'm excited... But then I remember that I'm leaving all this behind and I get scared..." she sighed.

"You can come back, you know." Geto turned to the princess.

"But the thing is, sometimes I don't know if I really want to go! It's a completely different world, even though it's right next door. And I don't want to leave you..." she looked up at the clear blue sky, it would be a while before it darkened. "Could you come with me?"

"You know what they did to my wings and my mother, I don't think I'll be welcome there." Geto sighed deeply. A few years ago he had told her the fateful story of the day King Stefan invaded the Moors, but he hadn't told her that it was her father who had orchestrated the attack and torn off his wings.

"I know, I just don't want to be away from you."

"Come to me whenever you want, I'll be here waiting for you." Geto gently held the princess' hand and placed the stone from the necklace in her palm. The young woman smiled gently and hugged Suguru until he gasped for breath, drawing a laugh from her.

And Geto, deep in his heart, hoped that she would come back as soon as possible.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ✶

Geto put his hand to his forehead and took a deep breath. He was sitting on a kind of throne made of twisted logs and thorns, the place he usually used for one of his duties as Guardian. The sky was dark and the stars were not visible, and Geto found himself clinging more and more to the mere memories that floated through his mind.

"Geto! Geto!" Dival's desperate voice came from afar in his raven form, flying as fast as he could.

"What now, Dival?" Geto watched as the crow turned into a human in front of him.

"They're invading the Moors!"

"WHAT?!" Suguru quickly got up from his seat, eyes wide with disbelief at the news.

"Your mother's curse somehow came true and King Stefan was furious, he sent troops to attack the Moors, but apparently the wall is keeping them out, but I'm afraid that won't last long."

"The sleep curse has come true..." Geto sighed" Suguru looked at a random spot on the ground, his face blank, "She will sleep forever..."

"Can you wake her?" Dival asked.

"I've tried over the years, when I found out she was the princess my mother cursed, it didn't work."

"Can't you try now that the curse has come true?"

"I could try..." Geto looked at Dival, who seemed to be hiding something, but revealed it by looking for ways to wake the princess. "First we have to get there, then I'll think about waking her."

"You'll have to get past the king's troops first."

"That's the least of the problems, Dival," Geto smiled sideways.

And indeed, the troops of the human army were no match for Geto Suguru's power. With a flick of his finger, the fairy immobilized the soldiers, sending them into a deep sleep until he could reverse the spell. Determined, he made his way to the castle, using his magic to clear the way and avoid any unpleasant and unnecessary conflicts.

"King Stefan..." His voice rang out from the throne room, drawing the king's attention.

"You!" the king said in a voice of disgust.

"Well, I think you know that we have some unresolved issues in the past that make me hold on with all my might so as not to crush that tiny little brain of yours. However, due to the current circumstances, I'd like you to listen to my somewhat irrefutable proposal." Geto's hands closed on the staff that had once belonged to his mother.

"What do you want?"

"Wow, that was pretty quick to convince you..." a sideways smile appeared on Suguru's lips, "If you, noble king, withdraw your troops from the Moor's border of your own free will and never come near my forest again, perhaps I can wake your beloved and sweet daughter."

"Can you wake her?" the king's voice came out choked. In addition to his ego, his daughter's life was at stake.

"Only on my terms!" Suguru lied.

"I promise, I promise to leave your forest alone, just save my daughter!"

"I hope you keep your promise or the consequences will be unimaginable." Geto's voice was firm, "Take me to the princess."

The king, still unsure of his decision, ordered one of his guards to take Geto to where the princess rested in her deep sleep. As the fairy entered the huge, luxurious room, he encountered a figure he didn't like very much. The white-haired boy turned towards Suguru, his hands clenching the wooden staff. Geto's purple eyes met the crystal blue of the stranger he had caught dancing with the princess in the forest not long ago.

"Black hair and a pair of horns? You must be the guardian of the Moors," the blue-eyed boy said.

"Get out of here," Geto said, controlling his tone.

"Wow, the princess said you were kind, I don't see much of that kindness," the boy smiled sideways and crossed his arms in front of him. "I bet your kiss would wake her up..." he muttered to himself, getting ready to leave the room.

"What did you say?" Geto looked at the stranger suspiciously.

"Nothing." The boy smiled. "If you'll excuse me, I have some diplomatic business to attend to with the king."

After the boy left, Geto made his way to the princess's bed, where she slept peacefully. This was not a new sight; they had already fallen asleep by the lake they visited every day ⸻ it seemed like yesterday that Geto was studying the princess's features, memorizing all her curves and smallest details under the starry sky. But unlike the last time they had slept in each other's company, when the first rays of sunlight had awakened him and the princess had cracked a broad smile and wished Suguru a good morning, she wouldn't wake up now, not if the spell wasn't broken. Geto sighed, he had been quietly trying to remove the spell from his mother ever since he had discovered that she was the Princess, Stefan's daughter, but nothing was strong enough to break it. And even now, after years of training and trying to control his power, nothing woke her.

"I'm sorry..." Geto's voice came out lower than usual, "I'm sorry I couldn't save you! It's my fault that I was so weak that none of my attempts to free you from this curse worked. I'm sorry I couldn't give you what you needed and be who you wanted, I'm not worthy of having you by my side, not when the only thing that prevails in my heart is hatred. You're too good for this world, too good for me. I wish I could do anything to have you by my side... just once." With a trembling hand, Geto reached for the icy cheek of the sleeping princess and slowly moved closer, touching his lips lightly to hers. He whispered another apology and turned, ready to flee the castle and fortify the wall around Moors, knowing that the king would not let his lies go unchallenged.

"Sugu...?" The weak, sleepy voice of the princess made the fairy stop walking quickly and turn towards the young woman. "You came to see me?"

"I just wanted to see if you arrived safely."

"I just fell asleep..." She sat down on the bed and smiled, "Couldn't you stay a little longer, I want to show you the castle... please."

"Then let's go..." Geto relented.

"Come on, I want you to see everything here!" She smiled openly and hugged Suguru tightly before wrapping her right arm around the fairy's left and leading him through the castle corridors to the throne room where Stefan was.

When they arrived at the scene, the king looked in surprise at his daughter, who was well and awake, and observed the intertwined arms with disgust.

"Arrest him!" the king shouted to the guards, who attacked Suguru, knocking his staff from his hand and binding him to his arm with steel chains, causing the fairy to scream in agony. The princess looked up in horror and saw Geto being carried away, writhing in pain. She tried to save him from the guards, but was stopped by other guards at the king's behest.

"What are you doing?" she looked at the king with watery eyes, "Let him go, please! He hasn't done anything! Please leave him alone!"

"Don't worry, child, I'm just saving our kingdom from this freak!"

"Freak?!" the young woman looked at her parents in disbelief, "He's a living being, just like us! He's never done anything wrong, no evil! Geto Suguru is the kindest person I know, please let him go!"

"HIS MOTHER CURSED YOU, DO YOU THINK I'LL FORGIVE HIS KIND FOR THAT?!"

"How can you blame him when you are the real culprit?"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN?"

"My fairy aunts told me that you stole Geto's wings and killed his mother in an attempt to take over the Moors." Tears streamed down the young woman's face, "How could you dare to do such a cruel thing, he was just a child!"

"WHAT DOES IT MATTER? THEY TOOK YOU AWAY FROM ME!"

"And you took away his mother! Forever!" The princess wiped her tears with her hands and released the guards. "Because of their selfish desires, the Moors are afraid of humans, afraid of losing their families and their freedom, they are not hideous monsters, they have feelings too. And I can't stay in a place and with people who feel entitled to destroy the lives of everything that is different from them!"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ✶

The princess ran frantically through the castle corridors as she fled from the guards. After arguing with her father, she soon fled the place, determined to find Geto and free him from prison so they could return to Moors. Looking for a place to lose the guards, she entered a dark room and waited for the guards to pass by. When the sound of footsteps quickly faded, she breathed a sigh of relief; now she would have one less problem to worry about when she found Suguru. However, something piqued her interest when she noticed something in the middle of the room. It looked like a cupboard covered with a long, thick, dusty cloth. She approached the object and, without thinking twice, pulled the cloth down, revealing what it was.

The huge glass box allowed her to see inside, and the young woman couldn't hide her surprise when she realized that she was standing in front of Suguru's wings, which had been stolen by her father.

‘They are beautiful...' the young woman thought, staring in wonder at the pair of wings in front of her. However, she quickly snapped out of her trance when she heard footsteps in the hallway. She took a deep breath, picked up the wings, wrapped them in the cloth, and carefully ran to the catacombs where the cells were.

Noticing that no one was in the catacombs, the princess left her wings in a hidden corner and, on tiptoe, picked up the key hanging on the wall near the exit and went to the cell where Geto was.

"Sugu...?" She whispered, searching the darkness for the fairy. When she heard the boy call her name, she let out a relieved sigh and opened the cell, approaching the fairy in the corner, who was writhing in pain, her wrists aching from the handcuffs. Gently, the princess removed the handcuffs and asked him to wait for her while she fetched something. She walked quickly, picking up Geto's wings where she had left them, but the wings seemed to move on their own with each step she took as she approached him. When the wings slipped from her hands and met their true owner, the princess was even more amazed to see Geto with his majestic wings.

"As much as I'd like to admire you longer, I'm afraid we have to leave as soon as possible before they come looking for me here!"

"Why are we running away?"

"I may have had a fight with my father..."

"You did what?" Geto asked incredulously.

"I had a fight with my father after you were taken away, I can't let my father treat you like that."

"You shouldn't have fought with him... not for me. You just came back home, you found your family again..."

"Why don't you let me save you just this once?" the young woman took Geto's hands in her own, "When I arrived here, I must admit I was excited by the idea of a new world, new places to explore and new people to meet, but at no time did I feel like I belonged here, not like I did in Moors. So please, take me home with you..."

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Geto asked, trying to hide his happiness at what he had just heard from the princess.

"I am absolutely sure."

"Then let's go home!"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ✶

The princess clung to Geto as tightly as she could while the fairy flew through the sky as if there was no tomorrow. Over the years, Suguru had resigned himself to never experiencing that feeling of freedom again, but apparently he was wrong. Having his wings again seemed like a dream, and to his happiness, it was a dream come true.

When they arrived in Moors, the princess asked Dival to deliver a letter to the king, saying that she had run away and would return to the forest and live there, where she had always felt at home, but that she could occasionally visit the kingdom and spend time with her biological family if they wanted her around.

"Are you going to fly around all night?" The princess asked with a smile as she watched Geto approach her.

"Maybe, it feels too good to stop."

"Your wings... They are beautiful... may I touch them?"

With a feeling of déjà vu, Geto approached the princess and allowed her to gently run her hand over the black feathers of his wings.

"Thank you... for saving me and for loving me as much as I love you."

"Wha... what?"

"I like you, Suguru. I like you so much that sometimes I feel like my heart will explode if I stay by your side for too long... you're my everything. That's why I want to be selfish and have you by my side until the end of this world."

"Well, I think I'll be more than happy to stay by your side until you don't want me anymore." Geto approached the princess, placing one of his hands on her waist, pulling her closer to his body, while the other rested on her cheek, his thumb making a light circular caress of her skin. Slowly, Suguru brought his lips to hers and gave her a soft kiss, which was immediately returned by the princess. Even though he had dreamed of this moment for a long time, Geto didn't rush into the kiss, but enjoyed and savored every moment that their lips were together, as if they had all the time in the world.

"I love you more than you can imagine..." When they broke apart for lack of air, Geto rested his forehead on hers and smiled openly, it all seemed like a dream and if it turned out to be a dream, he didn't want to wake up ever again. The fairy's hands closed around the young woman's waist and he hugged her tightly, as if she could disappear from his arms at any moment.

"But I love you more." The princess said as she rested her cheek on Suguru's chest and listened to his heartbeat, which was slowing down.

"That's impossible, darling!" Geto smiled openly and kissed the princess's forehead, "But I'll let you believe it is."

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simder-talia-blog · 1 year ago

Text

Info here

The hard part about these type of things is knowing I will forget people. Just know that if I reblog your posts I appreciate you so much and what you do!

For anyone new to the world of CC, I highly recommend these creators, and remember that if you find a creator who has made some things you like, go browse the rest of their catalog! Chances are there is lots more that you're going to love.

@herecirmsims - Makes wonderful, amazing pose packs and has a fun story going as well!

@ellemant - Gorgeous, gorgeous screenshots. Ellemant has also made some of my favorite, and oldest CC that I have in my game!

@eslanes - A longtime favorite account. You have got to check out the amazing Sims version album covers that eslanes has made as renders!

@xsavannahx987 - Awesome CC!

@rebouks - Amazing poses and storytelling! Also builds & sims dumps

@creamlattedream - So much fun MM clothing for your sims, & lots for male sims!

@beansbuilds - Beautiful, detailed builds that I fell in love with from her very first post

@bill-l-s4cc - Very useful CC items!

@xldkx - Incredibly cute & useful deco sims and more!

@the-dew-of-the-sea - makes some of my favorite CC that I have in my game!

@saruin - Superb and creative creations!

@anachrosims - Beautiful, gorgeous historical CC and in game shots that take your breath away!

@elfydrell - Loads of WoW CC!

@yooniesim - A creator of incredible CAS details for your sims, and lots of them!

@hamsterbellbelle - If you're looking for cyberpunk aesthetic, you must browse this creator's catalog!

@serawis - Another lovely CC creator (I especially love the skin overlays!)

@cinamun - Storytelling & gorgeous shots! (I added cinamun after I posted, I have a terrible headache this morning as I was finishing this post, I am sorry for accidentally leaving you out!)

@surely-sims - So much fun & unique CC, if you haven't yet, you must go look!

@simkoos - Again, so much fun & cute CC!

@aira-cc - More MM / kawaii CC that I absolutely love

@lilis-palace - Gorgeous MM historical CC

@twentiethcenturysims - Gorgeous MM historical CC, and even some witch hats for your cats!

@gothoffspring - More lovely CC (and tie dye!)

@simmillercc - More adorable CC

@nolan-sims - another one of my longtime favorites!

@simverses - Tons of wonderful Medieval CC!

@coatisims - All the groceries!

@bodegababysims - MOAR groceries!

@aroundthesims - Another longtime favorite! Sooo many useful and unique items, some of which inspired by her personal life and things she loves, which I love.

@insimniacreations - Tons of functional IRL food!

@moderncrafter - Lots of really nice vehicle CC (check poly for older computers)

@marsosims - More wonderful MM CC, I especially love their hairs

@peacemaker-ic - Can't make a favorites collection without mentioning Peacemaker! Maxis Match CC of all kinds!

I also want to say how much I appreciate anyone on here that has ever made me burst out laughing with something funny that they've posted (screenshots from your game, glitches, a meme you made relating to tumblr website nonsense, commentary on this or that, etc) You're all so funny 💗😆😭

Happy Holidays, everyone! Take care, pls stay healthy & safe, and thank you so much for the past year of simming fun!

EDIT! @crazy-lazy-elder-sims & @helloavocadooo I am so sorry I also forgot to tag you in this. I've had a bad headache for days due to very crazy barometric pressure where I live and I just am not thinking properly. I love that I get to be part of this community with you!

#simblr gratitude day #simblr gratitude day 2023 #i hope i'm doing this right!

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terresdebrume · 2 months ago

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Back in late September I made a poll to know what fic I should work on, completely forgetting I was about to run headfirst into the end of year rut (plus moving plus other life projects) so I ended up predictably writing nothing of substance aside from a quick snippet in an AU that has cool aesthetic but not enough foundation to stand on its legs -_-

So, as a way to finally start working on the most popular option from that poll (aka: the one where a Catland kiss is the spark that gets Payneland started) I'm going to just write and post the first draft on Tumblr and then I'll clean it up into a more proper story for AO3. @kepodewers you asked to be tagged in case that happened so watch this space (unless you want to wait for the polished version). This is based on this prompt from @stinastar which I got somewhere around forever ago^^" I'm very sorry about the delay and the rushed format, I hope it satisfies anyway! Fair warning: it starts out pretty angsty.

ETA: Important note: Like all my first drafts this is going to be posted in several snippets! I'll be making separate posts for each I think, unless the overwhelming consensus is that people would rather have a chain of reblogs

Edwin falls through the floor.

He hasn't lost control of his corporeality since his first week back on Earth and never that badly. The thought of it would be mortifying any other day, but not today. Today, it is a relief. Today, Edwin's entire being is intent on denying his death harder than it ever has before. Blood pulses in his ears as he finally comes to a stop in the basement of their building, tears burn in his eyes and in his throat, and his heart claws at the inside of his ribs with the ferocity of a hell hound. Half-blind with tears, Edwin pulls his right foot out of the ground, spins around, and rushes to the staircase as soon as he spots it.

His feet clatter up the steps, the door bangs in his wake, and when he bursts through the front door he cannot even manage to avoid running straight through Crystal. She calls out his name and Edwin slows down, trying to decide if he can stand to speak to anyone right now—

"Edwin!"

Edwin turns around just in time to see Charles phase through the door, through Crystal—continue without even apologizing to her—and then... And then his feet turn around again, carry him across the street and into the little park there, Charles' footsteps thundering after him.

"Edwin, wait!"

Edwin ignores Charles' pleading tone. He has never done that before. Not for a case, not for a reward, not even to preserve his own existence. Nothing could have forced him to ignore Charles then, no amount of danger, no amount of torture, no amount of pain. Except, it seems, if Charles himself were the source of Edwin's distress.

"Leave me alone!" Edwin yells over his shoulder, harsher than he meant but unable to stop and soften his voice.

Charles hasn't caught up with him, Edwin knows that. He is the much faster runner of the two, especially with the novelty of needing more distance from Charles than ever before. Perhaps it is that knowledge that stops him in his tracks when he hears Charles gasp.

"Edwin," Charles tries again, but Edwin shakes his head, ignoring the jogger that goes through him with a disgruntled shiver.

"Charles, please," he pleads, "please leave me alone. I can't—"

"Edwin, please, talk to me," Charles begs.

He is standing in the middle of the street, hands up as if to calm down a distressed client. He looks so genuinely distraught, so sincerely hurt, that Edwin feels bad for the way he is acting. He wishes he could be a better person. Wishes he could be a better friend. Yet, when he tries to speak his voice comes out cold and cutting in a way he never thought he could have used against Charles.

"I fail to see what there is to say. You made it quite clear before that you were uninterested in what I had to offer. It is hardly my place to be upset about where they lay instead!"

"But you are upset," Charles replies, and the lack of denial feels like a knife going right through Edwin's chest.

"Well, Charles," he says, a sob clinging to the cold fury that laces his voice, "I think you might be able to understand why I am."

"Look, Edwin, Thomas—"

"'Thomas'?" Edwin exclaims, anger and hurt dragging his voice down, making Charles flinch. "Thom—what happened to 'That Cat King'? What happened to 'Whiskers'?"

"Edwin—"

"You know, it is your right to move on," Edwin says, pressing his hands together so hard he is half afraid to damage his nonexistent gloves. "I understand that my feelings do not entitle me to your affections, but I would have thought you would at least have had the courtesy to let me know you had figured 'the rest' out! I would have thought you would at least told me so I didn't have to find out like this!"

Edwin closes his eyes, half to avoid the look of hurt mixed with almost fear on Charles' face, half to catch the flood of tears threatening to spill on his face as he remembers. Coming through the mirror. Looking around for Charles, so eager to show him the new book he acquired. Finding him sitting on their sofa, with his hands on the Cat King's hip, his head tilted back, the long column of his throat all but offered up to the other man as he cradled Charles' face in his hands and kissed him with exactly the sort of tenderness Edwin would endure another seventy years of Hell to give Charles.

"Please," Edwin repeats, "leave me alone. At least for now."

And Charles, silent and pale, nods and turns around, and leaves Edwin alone.

#Dead Boy Detectives #dbda fanfic #payneland #Charles Rowland #Edwin Payne #fic: the Catland kiss incident #matt writes #20n #30n #40n

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crystaldivination · 2 years ago

Text

“𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐈 𝐃𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐘𝐄𝐓”

𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 - 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐅𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞’𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲

PS: I apologize if the pictures are somewhat disturbing to you. I’m against insect consumption and have a great love for all living creatures and plants but I just find the aesthetic to be interesting.

🖤 my other pacs • paid services • buy me a 🍸

How to choose your pile? As always meditate or close your eyes before looking at each image. Trust your intuition and pick out an image you feel the most drawn to.

Disclaimer: this is a general reading which may or may not resonate with you. Take what resonates and leave out anything that doesn't. Feel free to choose another pile if you'd like.

PILE 1 - LONGHORN VODKA

Helllo pile 1, welcome to your pile. You choose this vodka bottle.

So as first glance your future spouse is someone who is quite different from others. This is someone peculiar. They could like stuff involving science, technology, space or anything that is extraordinary in a sense. Not something people would usually do in their free time or spent their entire time occupy with. But again who is weird here when you can’t even understand why you can walk and run on a planet that is floating in the space right? This person is very smart but in their own particular way. They like to question everything. They’re curious and seem to be always on the go to discover new things. So someone who can stimulate them and show or maybe even teach them new things would be their type. Your future spouse could be someone asexual or just someone who values feelings over looks. They don’t really care who you are or what you do for a living if you can’t score in the intellectual department. More so they couldn’t care less about your look. They’re very attracted to unique and intellectual people and they do seem like someone hard to please. Even more so because they always seem so immersed in their own world. Your future spouse is someone on the loner side. They don’t usually hang out a lot with friends, let alone enjoy surrounded by many people. They don’t give in to the loud noises, cool stuff that others are doing. They like being on their own, mostly because they feel like others don’t understand their kind of interest. They sometimes feel like an outsider but remind themself again that they enjoy their own company. They might even have their own invisible friends who they sometimes talk to. I imagine them sitting in the middle of a dark room working on something experimental. Super strange but at the same it feels like a strange genius type of thing. It makes me kinda sad that they somehow can’t connect with others on a personal and emotional level yet they’re very confident in themself. They know what they can and what they’re capable of. Someone who can share this side of them and accept them for who they are is very much appreciated. If someone were to be exciting yet patient enough to get close to them and open them up, I promise, you will never get bored with them. Once they get comfortable with you they likely won’t be able to stop talking and if they’re into you expect someone who goes beyond their boundaries and way to make you feel like the best person on earth. They can be very sweet and warm. A little shy yet have a very strong will. They’re a go getter. When they see something/someone that sparks interest in them, they’d not hesitate to go after it/them. Kinda interesting and cute I’d say.

Thank you for reading. I hope you liked it. Reblogs, likes and follows are highly appreciated. Have a wonderful day or night ‹𝟹

PILE 2 - TARANTULA VODKA

Helllo pile 2, welcome to your pile. You choose this vodka bottle.

Your future spouse is a cutie pie. This energy feels so light and innocent. They might even look pretty young and vulnerable as well. But do not be fooled. Underneath this seemingly harmless and delicate exterior there is someone well learned. They might’ve gone through a lot that some people can’t even imagine. While others could’ve been defeated by those hardships your future spouse only grew stronger and wiser. They are so admirable and respectable even if they don’t show it. On top of that they are really humble and have pure intentions in whatever they do. They don’t show up outwardly as arrogant nor have a "better than you" mentality. They’re a treasure guys. Very hardworking. They give their all in everything. On the one hand because that’s the evidence of their life now seeing how far they have come without giving up but also because they know hard work and self belief never betray you. They’re very strong both mentally and physically. They believe in a well-balanced lifestyle. For them it’s a "nurture your soul to support your physical human body and in turn you keep your physical form in check to function well". Health is definitely important for them. They care about the overall well-being, not only for themself but for others around them as well. They’re a humanitarian. They like getting involved in helping other people in general. They are helpful because they know how it feels like to be helpless and struggle. That’s why they help whenever they can and might engage in humanitarian activities such as volunteering or donating. Such a golden heart. They might also have a soft spot for animals or children. Objects or beings that seem to be needing care and attention. They could have grown up as an orphan or just being brought up by one parent only so they understand how much human and other being need protection and love. Despite all this they never stop believe in the good things, a better world. They believe everything can change and is never set in stone. They have a spirit of an innovator. They might not be well-known or what others called "successful" yet although everyone’s definition of success is different but I’m sure they will leave a mark for something important later on. They don’t seem to care about all that though as for them a peaceful and harmonious life is the best so they might stick to it but it seems like they’re so well-liked wherever they go with their action-oriented characteristics I believe they can’t go unnoticed. I’m taking a liking to your future spouse, pile 2 hihi. They’re so endearing, adorable and loveable in any sense. They’re keeper. Don’t let them slip out of your hands when you’re able to catch them! Hold on tight! Btw they could be a Virgo although I’m getting a lot of air energy as well and also water. Maybe Aquarius because of their nature. That also seems to fit the description about them :)

Thank you for reading. I hope you liked it. Reblogs, likes and follows are highly appreciated. Have a wonderful day or night ‹𝟹

PILE 3 - CENTIPEDE VODKA

Helllo pile 3, welcome to your pile. You choose this vodka bottle.

Your future spouse is really well-liked by the opposite genders. They are quite good looking and sociable. They know how to entertain others simply by their presence. They seem most likely like a high school crush kind of person or they are. Looks and appearance wise all good and well but there is a downside to them. They could be very reckless and childish. They could be a player as well because they enjoy the attention and spotlight on them. They opt for poor options if someone were on a higher mentality, not to say their decisions are all wrong but those can hurt or don’t help them in the long way if they’re thinking of their future. They go for fun and could neglect everything else that bores them or that doesn’t give them this adrenaline rush. They should really slow down. I think their environment or the environment in which they grew up contributes to these choices or behavior of them. BUT don’t blame that because we all can choose our own destiny. This is not an excuse to all or everything else. They like to be different but this is not the difference that makes you stand out from others in a good way. They may even are proud of their infamous reputation. But looking closely they’re not entirely empty and superficial. They have a heart of a leader. If they learn how to let go of the worldly pleasures, stuff and all the shortcomings they definitely can go far. They need to (re)build their inner values and system to create something more deep and meaningful to themself first then something that could benefit other people as well. As for now they still seem so inexperienced and vain which also can give way that they can still have the chance to learn from the world and everything else to grow to the person they want or are meant to be. They have the potential no doubt but everything is in their hand. They need to make the move towards their rightful path instead of straying away from it. They urgently need to work on their self concept. They could be very insecure deep down which shows outwardly as excessive attention seeking and pathological lying. They need to dig deep in themself to find their own purpose and reason for being. Despite that they’re not a bad person at all. As I said before they’re not all superficial. They may lack discipline but they’re actually quite courageous. They fight for the people they love and don’t hesitate to risk it all for them. Sometimes unfavorable but they need to know that only defending is not all. They need to be able to be in a position where they can protect others as they like and stand up for own their thing. Be able to be in their element while being the bigger person. I do not mean to rule the world but they need to think bigger and learn how to balance. If they were to encounter issues that they alone can’t solve, for them being in a difficult position, what would they do? They need to think long-term. Because they do have a strong protective instinct nevertheless and could go out of their way sometimes, anger issues and manner should be kept in check. Decide what they want and go for it. They might not believe in themself so that’s why they choose the easier superficial option. They’re making themself smaller than they are. I feel empathy for your future spouse so I do hope they can change for the better for themself and their vision overall. It’s time they need to surround themself by more developed and evolving people to gain inspiration as well as a different view from the world and themself to activate their motivation and good energy but not everyone starts off smoothly so this rugged and bumpy road will teach them valuable lessons that will lead and could help them grow into a good and successful person.

For pile 3 I feel like giving a lecture so this is a lil longer than the other piles…

Thank you for reading. I hope you liked it. Reblogs, likes and follows are highly appreciated. Have a wonderful day or night ‹𝟹

PILE 4 - SCORPION VODKA

Helllo pile 4, welcome to your pile. You choose this vodka bottle.

Your future spouse is someone sensitive. They most likely have intense emotions that are sometimes hard to process. You might’ve chosen this bottle because of the scorpion and indeed your future spouse resembles it. They are a hard one to crack. Always seem so tough on the outside but struggle quietly on the inside. They’re much more fragile than they seem. It’s so interesting to read for them because there is a lot to say about them but at the same time I cannot seem to catch enough about them as well. It’s hard to describe. They also seem so fluid. They could have a duality to them. At one moment they seem so open and social but at the other one so cold, secretive and distant. To me cold here doesn’t mean heartless or mean but more in a sense of they aren’t being expressive or don’t know how to express themself emotionally. They can get shy and nervous easily making them seem elusive and hard to get close to. They don’t necessarily seem intimidating but a push energy is evident. They could have a hard time letting others in as well. Trust issues seems to be the problem. Maybe they’ve been betrayed or disappointed before making them doubt and suspect others a lot. They might be scared of being hurt. This behavior can affect how they view themself and others especially in relationships and connections overall resulting in challenges and stigmatization in those areas. This also makes them feel super anxious, lonely and depressed all the time. They really need someone who can go easy on them and letting them have the feeling of trust again. But don’t forget! In them exists a sense of fearlessness, boldness and a burning desire. They’re dangerously passionate. Just like a scorpion they can kill. They’re not all desperation and guilt. So don’t even try to play them. I literally heard "never play me" like don’t you dare! Your future spouse is a highly reserved individual with a lot of self control. Their self defense is also no joke and always on mode. They know what benefits them and they go for it once made up their mind. They’re super sharp, quick and extremely savvy. They’re determined and never give up. They can be described and summarized in 3 words. Passion, creativity, and fierce loyalty. They keep things private and only allow others to see what they want them to see. Patience, confidence and a good sense of self is needed if you take interest in them and want to make them yours. Because they can also get attached easily a good amount of independence and individuality is needed in the relationship. This person could definitely be a water sign because they feel their emotions deeply. The intensity and struggle to come out to light also reminds me of 8th house and/or 12th house placements. Gemini as well because duality is present. What do you think?

Thank you for reading. I hope you liked it. Reblogs, likes and follows are highly appreciated. Have a wonderful day or night ‹𝟹

#crystaldivination #pac #pick a card #pick a card reading #pac reading #tarotcommunity #tarot reading #intuitive readings #tarotblr #pick a pile #free readings #free intuitive readings #free tarot readings

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keikikait · 1 year ago

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a slice of almond tofu [aged up!megumi x f!reader]

pairing: au!biker!megumi x barista!mechanicsdaughter!reader (both are early to mid 20s)

word count: 3k

summary: you're the head barista at your local cafe. you see people come and go regularly, customers and employees. recently, a spiky, dark-haired biker has been coming in every day, and you suspect he’s always there to see you.

warnings: slightly ooc megumi haha, my limited knowledge of motorcycles, smut [18+ ONLY!], dom!megumi, sub!reader, public sex? (it’s in an empty office), nickname use [baby, sweetheart, pretty girl], name calling [slut, fucktoy, whore], cunnilingus, porn with slight plot, mention of a blowjob, use of the words ‘cock’ and ‘cunt’, clit slapping (?), choking (slight), hair pulling (kind of?), mention of a breeding kink (sue me idc)

a note: this is my first fanfic on tumblr, please be understanding lol. i tried to write this as body type, skin tone, hair color, and hair texture neutral as possible. please let me know if there's something i should add or take away! also, sorry if there are any issues with tense, i flip-flopped between past & present for a while.

please reblog and comment, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

It was late at the cafe, the setting sun outside causing a wave of soft golden light that further added to the warm, comfy aesthetic.

Your back was turned to the front, wiping down one of the espresso machines to clean it. Your head spun around when you heard the low growl of a bike outside.

He was here.

He came inside, pulling his helmet off as he shut the door. He smooths his dark hair with his hand and took a look at the menu on the wall briefly before approaching you behind the counter.

He clears his throat before speaking in a calm, quiet voice.

“A slice of almond tofu and a hot caramel latte, please.”

You smile, plugging it into the register before grabbing a ticket to write his order on. “For here?”

“Yes.”

“And soy milk, right?”

He blushes slightly. You remember him. “Yes, soy milk.”

You chuckle, capping the pen and setting the ticket on the espresso machine. He moved to sit down at his usual spot, a large dark brown leather couch in the corner of the cafe by the only outlet. It was directly across from the pick up counter, and you used this to your advantage, slowly stealing glances at him while he typed away on his laptop or read whatever book he had that day.

You got to work on his order, picking a large slice of the almond tofu before putting more of the frangipane and almond slices on top. You know he always wanted more almond on top, and even though it was an extra 50 cents, you never charged him. You made his latte, paying extra attention to the latte art. A heart would be too forward, you thought, so you did a fern.

You plate his order before sliding it onto the pickup counter. “It’s Megumi, right?”

He looks up from his laptop, his lips slightly parted. “Yeah, do I really come in here that much?” He stands up and collects his order before sitting back down.

“Yeah, but I don’t mind.”

He smiles before taking a bite of the almond tofu. “I like this cafe. It’s so comfortable and calming…plus the coffee and food are really good.”

He glances out the window briefly before turning back to you. He clarifies your name, and to your own surprise, he said it correctly.

You smile. “That's me,” You point to your nametag which had “HEAD BARISTA” carved into it under your name.

He glances at it and smiles at you. “How long have you been working here?”

You grab a rag from the sanitizer bucket and begin wiping down the counter. “About three years.”

He whistles, “That’s a long time.” He takes a sip of the latte. “I assume I’m one of your regulars.”

You smile. “Yeah, it’s hard to forget that bike.” You put the rag back into the sanitizer bucket.

He smirks, scratching his jaw. “Ah, so I’m memorable?”

You smile again. “Very. Also, you’re one of the only customers that gets the almond tofu. The matcha is the most popular.” You lean across the counter, propped up on your elbows.

“It’s one of my favorite things here. I love how simple yet sweet it is.” He looks out the window again before looking back at you. “Can I ask you for some advice?”

You’re taken aback, but you say yes anyway.

Megumi sighs, facing you completely. “So, I just moved here, and I’ve been having some issues with my bike, with the engine and the exhaust…my friend and I have been trying to repair it but nothing is working. Do you know of any auto shops around?” He reaches up and scratches the back of his head, and you had to force yourself to ignore how his bicep moved under his shirt.

You smile. You had this in the bag. “Actually, funnily enough, my dad is a mechanic,” You reach over to the napkin holder and pull a pen out of your apron pocket, scribbling down the address. “You can come by tomorrow, if you want.” You slide it across the counter.

His eyes light up. “R-Really? That's so sweet of you, umm…” He pauses. “How much would it cost? I haven’t gotten paid yet.”

You wave away his worries. “It’ll be on the house. My dad does free repairs for my friends.”

Megumi’s eyebrows raise. “Are you sure?”

You nod, smiling again. “Come by around noon.”

He smiles down at the napkin before folding it up and putting it in his pocket. “Thank you so much…you seriously don’t understand how much it means to me.”

You step back from the counter. “Don’t worry about it.”

Megumi shoves the remaining tofu in his mouth before gulping down the rest of the drink, sliding the dishes to you. “Thank you so much. I’ll see you at noon tomorrow.”

You pick up the dishes, setting them aside to wash. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Megumi.”

You watch as he leaves, putting his helmet back on and climbing onto his bike. He drives off, into the sunset, and you can’t wait for tomorrow.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

It was a hot day in Tokyo.

You get up early, taking your time to thoroughly get ready. He had only ever seen you in your barista uniform, no makeup with your hair pulled back, and an ugly, bulky brown apron on. You want to impress him, you need to impress him.

You look in the mirror one last time, fixing your hair and tugging on your thin sundress. It’s one of your favorites, pretty short, just hitting the middle of your thigh, a soft lavender color, and fairly loose fitting. A slight breeze would cause it to float up, but if Megumi saw that you wouldn’t mind too much.

You head over to your dad’s workshop, pulling open the heavy gate and stepping inside. You had lied and said Megumi was a school friend to secure the free discount for him. You pace around, antsy, occasionally glancing at your phone. It was already 12:15, and worry that he wasn’t coming was eating you alive.

Megumi pulls up to the workshop on the edge of town, parking his bike in front of the garage door. He walks up and knocks, hoping you would answer and not your father.

You pull the door up, smiling. “Hey, Megumi!”

Megumi smiles, trying to not let his eyes wander over your body. “Hey, sorry I’m late…it nearly gave out on me on the ride over here.” He starts walking his motorcycle inside the garage.

“It’s okay,” You smile. “My dads in his office, I’ll go get him.”

You rush to your dad’s office, knocking on the door and peeking your head in. Megumi tries not to watch your ass move in your dress as you walked, but he can’t help himself.

Your father exits his office, greeting Megumi with a smile. You stand behind your father and watch; watch the way Megumi’s eyes lit up when he was discussing his bike, how big his smile was when your father confirms, yes, the repairs would be free, and how his arms moved as he gestured.

You want him. Badly.

Your father squats down by the bike, examining the exhaust pipe. He unscrews the covers on the side to look at the engine, and whistles.

He stands back up, looking at Megumi. “This might take a while. I gotta go across town to get some replacement parts.” Megumi’s eyes widen, and he fumbles for his wallet in his bag. He pulls it out and starts inquiring about the payment when your father shakes his head. “On the house, you’re a friend of my daughter. Don’t worry about it.”

Megumi gulps. “Are you sure, sir?” Your father nods before heading over to you and kissing you on the forehead.

“I’ll leave right now. I’ll be back in maybe an hour or so.”

You both say your goodbyes and the garage door shut with a bang as your father leaves.

Now it’s just the two of you, alone.

You finally break the silence. “Do you want to sit in his office? It’s air conditioned.”

He smiles. “Yes, please. The heat is killing me.”

You chuckle before leading him into your father’s office, sitting down in his big office chair. Your thighs smush together when you sit down, and it make Megumi’s jaw tick. You grab the small hand fan your father kept on his desk and begin fanning yourself.

Megumi sits in the chair across the desk. “So, do you help out here, too? Or do you just work at the cafe?”

A droplet of sweat travels down your collarbone. “I help out here sometimes. Mostly I’m an errand girl.”

You keep fanning yourself, pulling the dress down your thighs. You’re already hot and sweaty, and being around Megumi definitely doesn’t help.

He crosses his legs, trying to hide the erection that was slowly forming. You look so adorable in your dress, and Megumi can’t help but imagine kissing your shoulders and chest as he slides the straps down-

No. He has to focus and hold out. At least for a little bit longer.

He leans his elbows on his knees, wiping his lip with his thumb. “That's nice of you, to help your father.”

You swallow hard, sitting up straight and squeezing your thighs together. He’s so effortlessly beautiful. “Yeah, I guess so. He fixes my car for free.”

You continue to fan yourself. It gets awkwardly quiet, the only sound being from the clock ticking on the wall above the door.

He looks at you, rubbing his thumb on his knee in a circular motion. “Do you think he’ll actually take an hour?”

You nod. “He gets distracted at the store, talking to his mechanic buddies. Honestly, he’ll probably take longer than that.”

Megumi grins. “Perfect. I want you all to myself for a while.”

You bite back a whine and squeeze your thighs together again, finally responding with “Mhm.”

He smirks. “You okay? A bit hot?”

You nod, sheepish. “Yeah…a bit.”

“Mhmm, I can tell. You keep squeezing your thighs together. It’s adorable.” Megumi says.

You nearly faint. “It is?”

“It’s the cutest thing.” He stands up from the chair and walks around the desk, kneeling in front of you.

You let out a soft gasp, shutting the fan and setting it down on the desk.

He smirks, and reaches up to touch your thighs. “Is this okay?” You nod, sliding down further in the chair. He groans, spreading his hands over your thighs. “God, these are driving me crazy.”

“Yeah?”

He leans down and places a soft kiss on your thigh. “Yeah. Been wanting to sink my teeth into them. Been wanting you ever since yesterday.”

You gulp. “Since yesterday? Even when I’m in my uniform?”

He nods, squeezing your thighs with his hands. They’re rough and calloused and you nearly cum on the spot. “You looked so fucking innocent, it drove me crazy. I almost crashed on the way home because I was so goddamn hard and I couldn’t stop thinking about fucking that little mouth of yours.”

Your mouth dropped open, almost instinctively. “Um, I mean-I wouldn’t mind that.”

He smirks again. “I know you wouldn’t, baby.”

Baby. You let out a shaky breath.

He pushes the hem of your dress around your hips, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head when he sees your panties. Black, relatively plain, but there’s a little purple bow on the front and it makes his head spin. “Can I take these off?”

Your face flushes. “I thought you wanted me to…you know-”

“Gag on my cock?” Megumi finishes your sentence for you. “I do. But, that can wait. I need to get my mouth on you or else I’m going to die.”

You nod. You aren’t complaining, not at all. “You can take ‘em off, then.”

Megumi slides your panties down, pocketing them for later, and spreads your legs wide. He moans when he sees your little cunt for the first time. He wraps his hands around your hips and pulls you to the edge of the chair.

You feel anxious under his gaze. Does he not like it? Is it pretty? Before you can even think about asking, he leans forward and slots his mouth over you.

You gasp, immediately going to thread your fingers through his hair. It’s soft, despite the gel. Maybe you should ask him what kind he uses after.

Megumi moans when he tastes you, moving his tongue flat in small circles over your clit. He can’t get enough, the taste is driving him crazy. And you’re so sensitive too, squirming and moaning his name.

He moves his mouth away and slides two fingers inside you. You whine at the loss of contact and try to push his head down again. He chuckles. “Patience, pretty girl, patience.”

You shake your head. You can barely focus on anything other than his long fingers pumping in and out of you. They feel so much better than your own. “Can’t, Megs, I can’t. I need you.”

“I know you do,” He coos, thrusting even faster. His thumb takes the place of his tongue, rubbing your clit in small circles. “Your cute little clit is so swollen, just for me. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

You nod eagerly. “Yes! All for you, Megs!” Your hips buck a little when his thumb speeds up.

He fucking laughs at that. “Sensitive little slut, aren’t ya?”

You nod again, nearly cumming at his condescending laugh and the pet name. “Your…your slut, Megumi.”

He smirks. “All mine. You were practically made for me, baby. I can just tell this little cunt is gonna squeeze my cock so well.” His fingers speed up and he moves his thumb to replace it with his tongue.

His fingers rub against that spongey spot inside you and you cum immediately, clenching around his fingers as you grind against his tongue.

Megumi pulls away, a triumphant smile on his face. “Fuck. Good girl.” He gives your clit a gentle slap before getting up from his knees. He pulls off his shirt and starts to unbuckle his belt. “Bend over the desk. Right now.”

You happily oblige, moving your father’s papers aside and bending over the desk, hiking your dress up around your hips.

He grabs your hips tight, pushing your thighs open with his knees. “Fuck, sweetheart, you look so good like this.”

You shake a little. “I do?”

Megumi groans, rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your folds. “So fucking good. Makes me wanna take you home and make you my personal little fucktoy.”

You let out a shaky moan. Holy shit. “I-I-I mean I wouldn’t mind.”

He groans again. “Goddamn, you’re perfect. Maybe I should make you mine. Take you home, treat you right, fuck your brains out every night…”

His voice trails off, and you go to respond with a pathetic ‘Please, Megumi!’ when you feel his cock push against your cunt and slowly start sliding in.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head and you moan.

He grabs your hair roughly, right at the root. “Fuck.”

Megumi’s cock slides all the way in and you almost cum. You feel like your choking, like his cock is in your guts.

“So big…” You manage to say.

He reaches his other hand around and wraps it around your throat, and this time you do cum.

Megumi groans loudly. “God, fuck, did you just cum?” You nod pathetically and he chuckles. “Fucking whore. I love it.”

His hips start moving, the pat pat pat filling your ears. You can hardly think, quickly being pushed past your second orgasm as the third one looms.

You swallow some drool before it escapes your lips. “Megumi…”

“Shhh, pretty girl,” Megumi coos. “Just relax. Let me take care of you.” He squeezes your neck a little.

Your mouth drops open as his hips speed up. His soft moans are right by your ear, and even though you’re getting fucked stupid, you can’t help but imagine what he sounds like when you’re between his thighs gagging on his stupidly big cock.

You let out an embarrassingly loud moan when he squeezes your neck again.

He moves his hand from your neck to your mouth, covering it. “Shhh, baby. We don’t want your neighbors to hear you, do we?”

You nod, agreeing with him. You can’t let anything ruin this moment.

Megumi keeps his hand clamped over your mouth as his hips speed up. “Fuck, sweetheart, I wanted to hold out but I don’t think I can last. Your little cunt is so wet and perfect, fucking hell.”

He tugs your head back further and your eyes meet.

Tears well in your eyes and you mumble against his hand. “Please cum inside me, Megumi.”

His eyes darken. “Yeah? You want me to fill you up? Get you nice and pregnant?”

You’ve never even thought about having kids, but honestly you would do anything for him at this point. You nod pathetically.

His smirk fades as he moans. “Fuck, sweetheart, you’re killing me.”

Megumi keeps a tight grip on your hair as his thrusts speed up. His orgasm sneaks up on him. “Fuck, fuck, shit-baby, fuck, ‘m cumming!” He cums loudly, letting go of your hair and gripping your hips with both hands to keep you from moving away.

You lay there on your father’s desk, drooling slightly.

He flips you onto your back and sits you upright. “You okay? Did I go too hard?”

You smile softly. “It was perfect.”

Megumi grins before looking down at your cunt as his cum drips out. “Fuck. Do you have a tissue or something?”

You blindly reach behind you and grab the box of tissues your father keeps on his desk. Megumi takes one and cleans you up gently.

He kisses your clit before slapping it again. “You’re such a good girl.”

Your legs are still shaking. “Your good girl.”

His eyebrows raise. “Yeah? You wanna be mine?”

You nod. “Wanna be all yours, Megs.”

Megumi pulls you close, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I think we can arrange that.”

The floor shakes as the garage door opens, signaling your father’s return.

His eyes flick to the clock. “Hey, you lied! He only took 45 minutes!”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

ahhh sorry the ending is so shit lmao, i had no idea how to end it. anywayz, let me know what you think!

pt 2? maybe.

please do not translate or copy my work!

#keikiwrites #✿: megumi!#megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi smut #jjk smut #fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro smut #dom!megumi #sub!reader

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thebramblewood · 2 months ago

Note

invading your inbox again, but do you have any tips for building up a simblr and finding a place in the community? If not that's okay I'm just a bit curious because you seem to have grown such a wonderful community and made ur mark of sorts on your simblr

You're so kind for saying this! It's hard to give concrete advice because it happened very gradually and organically. Most of the notes on my earliest posts were not acquired immediately but over time, and there were lots of moments when I was just starting out that left me feeling frustrated to have worked hard on something only for it to immediately got buried and forgotten.

Honestly, I came to Simblr because I very much lack a community in real life and was desperate to connect with similarly-minded people. It's probably not entirely healthy, but that desperation is what drove me at first to keep going even when it felt like no one noticed me. I'm on here every day. I force myself out of my comfort zone to comment on other people's posts. I tag people whose builds or CC I use or who inspire me. I reblog posts I love (and follow their creators if I'm not already). I try to boost new and small Simblrs whenever I can. I'm not afraid to reblog my own work and let people know how proud I am!

It can be hard, but try not to fixate on becoming friends with a certain "clique" or obsessing over "big name" interaction (even though, of course, I've had my internal moments of fangirling over getting noticed by my favorite blogs just like anyone else). Prioritize forming real connections with a smaller group of people. Make one or two friends, and it'll hopefully grow into a bigger circle over time. But be genuine about it and don't go in automatically expecting people to give everything you're giving them back to you.

Trust me, I'm so grateful to be even semi-popular on here. I was lucky to come in with a lot of writing and editing experience already under my belt. When I think about all the Simblrs who have probably given up because their posts weren't "aesthetic" enough to get noticed, I really feel for them. It's not easy to make yourself stand out. As tempting as it can be to hop on trends for quick notes, though, I think it's more important to be true to who you are and make things that only you could make. With any luck, other people who like those things will see them and want to share in the joy of them with you. 💕

#asks #and it's still so crazy to think that i've “made my mark” here or that i'm an important presence in this community #like please i'm only a girl with chronic brain rot and very few other hobbies or friends 😭

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aemondsbabe · 11 months ago

Text

Stick it Out to the End

summary: michael is desperate to get into oxford's prestigious bullingdon club; unfortunately for him, they command him to do the impossible to gain admittance

pairing: michael gavey x bimbo!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, bimbo reader, mentions of hazing but nothing horrible/extreme, virgin!michael, breast/nipple play, praise kink, piv sex, protected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), oral sex (f receiving), consensual filming, dirty talk, cursing, what i hope is saltburn-esque humor, mild size kink, mild angst but happy ending, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 12.7k

a/n: images in the header are for aesthetic purposes only & are not used to describe the reader! she's back and she's long as hell but what else is new!!! this is my first time writing bimbo!reader and while she wasn't super bimbo-y, it was fun getting my feet wet! hope y'all enjoy!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🩷 my masterlist

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

Michael

Michael couldn’t help but feel his heart speed up in his chest as he wound through the quiet corridors clutching tightly to the cryptic note he’d found stuffed in his pigeonhole that morning – just a page torn out of a standard notebook covered hastily written red ink; wholly un-intimidating as far as cryptic notes were concerned. Really, he was surprised to see they didn’t put more effort in; with as secretive and imperious as this little club was, he had been expecting some sort of extravagant stationary, perhaps even some gold embossing.

Coming to a stop in front of an unassuming janitor’s closet door, he narrows his eyes behind the gold frames of his glasses, staring at the door with a nearly accusatorial expression. Michael swivels his head once more, his brows furrowed as he checks and re-checks every door in the vicinity before turning back to the one he stands before. Scoffing, he unfolds the note with a little irritated sigh and quickly scans the page again, mouthing the words to himself for the millionth time that day.

The riddle had been easy enough to figure out, some trivial little lines about dead men walking, the mob, finding God, and looking to one’s heart pointed right toward some hush hush basement beneath the Merton College Chapel. That, and it didn’t take a genius to see that each line consisted of a specific number of words, pointing him right to the very door he stood in front of now – 129.

Fucking amateurs, he’d thought after cracking the code in under half an hour. But that was earlier. And now, as he stares at the stupid dull grey janitor’s closet door in front of him, Michael can’t stop the little tendrils of doubt from creeping into his periphery. He’s sure this is the right door and positive this is the right place and yet… janitor’s closet. He checks his watch, 11:50 PM on the dot, and glances up and down the dark, shadowy corridors once more, half expecting one of the twatty rich assholes to jump out and start snickering at him, making fun of him for thinking that a no one like him would’ve ever received an invite to a club like this.

Shaking his head, he reaches for the doorknob anyway, he’s come this far so he may as well. He freezes a little when it actually turns and his blue eyes go wide when he pushes the door open, shivering a little as he’s met with a wall of cool, dank air – eau de basement, just as he’d expected. A little actually impressed sigh passes his lips when he pokes his head in, an apprehensive smile blooming on his lips as he takes in the eerie red lighting spilling up the stairwell from the God-knows-what downstairs.

He winces as the door squeaks when he tugs it open but he doesn’t stop, emboldened now as he knows he had been right once again. He takes the stairs quickly, probably too quickly given that he hasn’t a fucking clue what or who could be down here, but before he can dwell on the idea too much, he’s faced with another corridor. This one, unlike the ones upstairs, is narrow and brick-lined and leads in only one direction, straight to another closed door at the other end.

Michael squints against the bright red light coming from a spotlight that had been haphazardly set up on the stone floor and walks down the hallway, his steps speeding up as he hears the janitor’s door above him open and close once more. His breath hitches a little as he opens the second door and quickly steps inside, like ripping off a band-aid.

He freezes once more when a strong hand latches onto his shoulder and quickly jerks him further into the room, making him yelp as he stumbles, trying to keep pace with whoever the hell is leading him.

“What the –”

Before he has time to so much as blink, his back thuds against a brick wall and finally he looks up, the vicious scowl he’d prepared morphing into a look of disturbed confusion as he eyes a row of other students, about fifteen and all men from the looks of it, dawned with black –

Oh, Christ, are those ski masks? He thinks as he eyes them up and down, How fucking banal… at least it’s not hooded cloaks. He nearly rolls his eyes as he scans the rest of the room, taking in the dim lighting interspersed with blues and greens from more of those stupid party boy spotlights. Glancing to the side, he sees another boy in his year, some guy he only knew from a few classes and passing glances in the hallways, but even still he’s comforted to not be alone down here, no matter how cliché this whole affair seemed.

His blue eyes snap forward as the door, the only door, to the room is opened once more and some other poor sap is hastily dragged across the room, only to be smacked on the wall to his left. Again, it’s just some other boy Michael knows from classes, though he doesn’t know why he expects any different – it’s not as if he knows many people outside of the forced proximity of a lecture hall. Which was really his only reason for putting up with this bother, for seeking it out in the first place; a quick flash of him placing a tightly folded up sticky note with his name and pigeonhole number in an old, beaten up copy of King Lear in the library played in his mind – the price he seemed to pay for loneliness.

Distantly, the bells of the chapel began to chime, signaling the hour. Once, twice, and eventually twelve times – midnight. Time to start the show, Michael surmises.

“Welcome, initiates,” one of the hooded men says in a tone that makes Michael glare judgmentally, his voice pitched down like some idiotic knock-off Darth Vader. He steps forward from the row they stand in and holds his arms out open at his sides, “Consider this your first foray into the Bullingdon Club.”

Again, he has to bite the inside of his cheek to hold in a scoff. This was all just so… juvenile? He was beginning to sincerely doubt that this was the über clandestine club that granted its members all sorts of connections to various businesses, societies, and insider information that even the richest of the rich couldn’t buy.

Unfortunately, his face seemed to betray more of his emotions than he intended and the masked boy steps forward once more, his dark eyes zeroing in on Michael.

“You,” he says gruffly, pointing a finger in his direction, “Something you wanna say, initiate?”

Out of habit, he pushed his glasses up on his nose before he spoke, perhaps foolishly bold given the situation.

“Doesn’t this all seem a bit much for three people?” He scoffs, shaking his head slightly, “I mean, masks, really?”

The hooded boy stops for a second and studies Michael closely, one hand on his hip, “What’s wrong with the masks?”

“Well, what’s the point? There’s, what, fifteen or sixteen of you? And three of us?” He asks, glancing around the room, which he now realized very clearly used to be some run-of-the-mill storage room, probably forgotten about by now.

The boy laughs sarcastically and shrugs his shoulders a bit, his voice back to its natural pitch, “It wouldn’t really be a secret thing if we just invited half the student body, mate.”

Michael supposes his reasoning is sound and says as much with a little hum and nod of his head, eyebrows raising dismissively.

“Anything else?” The masked boy asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“The masks don’t really disguise you lot that well,” he observes, pointing at one of the other boys standing in the row, “That’s Harry from Multivariable Calculus.”

“Shit…” Harry mutters under his breath, the sound carrying through the concrete room. A few of the other boys in the row lean over and place comforting hands on his shoulders and murmur words of encouragement, much to Michael’s dismay.

“Why’re you here, initiate?” The lead boy asks, turning back to Michael.

“Dunno,” he shrugs again, pushing his glasses up his nose, “Friends, I guess.”

A couple of the boys in the row make little noises, mutters of empathy that make the blond’s eyebrows furrow together in confusion as he glances up and down the line.

“And this was your first thought? A secret society?” Harry from Multivariable Calculus asks with a little laugh, “Not like… chess or something?”

“Don’t really like chess…” Michael says with a little shrug. Apparently a good enough answer for Harry, who makes a little noise of understanding and nods his head.

After another moment, the lead boy clears his throat, which shuts up the rest. “Anyway,” he says, his voice falsely low once more. “Each of you will be given a task…,” his dark eyes glance between Michael and the other two boys as he paces in front of them, “Perfectly customized to challenge you, to push you to your absolute limits.”

The masked boy pauses his little speech and gestures back to three of the other boys standing in the row behind him who then step forward and walk over to the dank brick wall that Michael and the other two boys stand against. He studies the boy that walks towards him carefully, his eyes narrowing in suspicion when he notices how much shorter he appears to be.

Finally, the boy comes to stand before him and presents a plain white envelope, though Michael’s lips spread into a hateful smirk when he sees an all too familiar pair of old, beat up trainers on the boy’s feet.

“Oliver?!” He hisses meanly, shock lacing his voice as he jerks back the hand he had reached out for the envelope, wincing as his elbow collides with the cool wall behind him. He glances around the room, noting the few pairs of eyes that were on him, before fixing his gaze on the boy before him once more with a harsh glare, “You’re in Bullingdon?”

The boy in front of him hesitates for a second, cutting a sideways glance toward a taller boy that was busy presenting an envelope to the boy to Michael’s left, before he sighs and looks back at him, blue eyes peeking out of the holes in his ski mask. “Yeah,” he huffs, shrugging his shoulders defensively, “How’d you know it was me, then?”

“You look like a goddamn twelve year old!” Michael jeers, his voice low and vicious as his hands curl into fists at his sides, “How’d you manage to get into this club anyway?” He questions, seething, “They only let you in if you have the money or the marks and I know for a fucking fact you don’t have either.”

Oliver sighs again and rolls his eyes, which makes him see red and grit his teeth, although he doesn’t miss how the shorter boy’s eyes cut to the side again quickly. He opens his mouth, but before he can get a word in edgewise, the blond cuts him off with a little mocking laugh.

“Don’t tell me that’s fucking Catton,” Michael groans lowly with a shake of his head, breathing heavily as he feels the same sense of anger and betrayal he’d felt all those months ago well up in him once more, transporting him right back to the stupid damn pub, “You’ve got to be bloody kidding me, is this shite little club only full of cunts?”

“Look, I’m –”

Oliver starts to speak again, only to be cut off when the head boy traipses over to where they are, coming to stand ominously behind him with his arms clasped behind his back. His dark eyes dart between the two boys before he speaks.

“Problem over here, lads?”

“No,” Oliver answers quickly, staring warily up at Michael as he practically shoves the envelope into his arms, “Just complete the task, initiate. You have thirty-six hours.”

Before Michael can blink, Oliver turns his back and stalks back over to the other boys, taking his place in the row once more. The head boy looks Michael up and down appraisingly before nodding to the letter in his hands with a sly smirk.

“I can’t wait to see how you fare with that one, Gavey,” he says, his voice low and threatening, as if he’s in on the most delicious joke, “Remember, thirty-six hours, initiate.” He chuckles softly and departs, returning to stand in the center of the room.

Everyone stands still for a moment, Michael and the other two boys to his left and right holding their respective envelopes nervously, unsure if they were supposed to open them now or not. Thankfully, the head boy clears his throat, commanding all eyes to him once again.

“Initiates,” he says slowly, his voice no doubt already hoarse from this little farce, “Failure to complete your tasks will result in a permanent ban from Bullingdon; no second chances. We expect results as well as proof of those results,” his dark eyes scan over the three boys once more, one corner of his mouth turned up into a mean smirk, “We’ll be seeing you back in this location Sunday at noon. Your thirty-six hours begin now… have fun.” He finishes with a taunting laugh before turning and exiting from the room, the old door creaking as he pulls it open before disappearing into the faint red glow of the hallway, followed by the rest of the fifteen boys in an orderly line.

As soon as the old door closes, the sound of paper tearing echoes around the dimly lit basement as Michael and the other two boys hastily tear open their envelopes. Pulling out a little slip of paper, his eyes go wide as a wave of dread washes over him. His eyes scan over the paper again and again as he nervously shoves his glasses back up his nose once more, silently willing the chicken-scratch words on the paper to somehow change, to give him some other command.

His heart is pumping so loudly in his ears that he misses it when one of the other boys tries getting his attention, his head snapping up suddenly as a hand waves in front of it.

“Oi!”

“W-What?”

“What did they give you?” The boy asks, nodding at the scrap of paper in Michael’s hand.

He clears his throat and tries his best to come off as casual, though he hardly cares with the way thoughts begin racing through his mind. “Oh, um,” he starts, glancing down to read over the paper once more, “I just uh, have to sleep with someone is all.”

The other two boys gape at him for a moment before groaning frustratedly. The one that had first spoken to him holds his paper out and smacks it disdainfully with the back of his hand.

“What the hell?” He asks gruffly, glancing between his paper and Michael, “Why’s yours so bloody easy?”

“For real,” sighs the second boy, rubbing the back of his head, “Ours are damn near impossible. They must already be decided on you to go so soft. How am I meant to steal the fucking Selden Map from Bodleian?” He laments, brows furrowed as he stares down at the paper in his hands.

“Yeah, and I have to transfer ten thousand pounds out of the chancellor’s bank account and into mine!” The first boy sighs, shaking his head, “At least your mum’s head of conservatorship here, you can at least get within a stone’s throw of the map. I have to commit fucking wire fraud!”

The two boys grumble for another moment as Michael silently descends into a tailspin, his blue eyes unfocused as he stares at one of the dingy brick walls of the basement, trying desperately to formulate a plan, any plan. He merely glances up as the other to head for the door, spitballing ideas for each of their tasks.

“Isn’t your dad the president of Julius Baer? Can’t you just get him to pull strings?”

“Oh, yeah, fantastic idea! I’ll just ring him and ask the old man to commit a felony! What could possibly go wrong there?”

Michael tries to tune out their bickering as the three of them ascend the staircase and trail out into the hallway of Merton College Chapel once more; the two other boys don’t pay him any mind as they continue whispering amongst themselves, their voices trailing quietly down the hallway as he leans with his back against the cool metal of the janitor’s closet door.

Sighing, he reads over the directive again, his blue eyes catching on the sharply scrawled letters of a very familiar name, one that makes his cheeks flush and his heart race. He swallows nervously, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

How could they know to do this? He wonders sheepishly. It’s not like he’d mentioned her to anyone; hell, he’d never even said so much as three words to her! No, his pathetic little crush was entirely in his mind.

Too much of a coward to even say hi, he bemoans, trying to stave off the sense of shame he felt as he considered how many times he’d finished with her name on his lips, her pretty face and soft curves and sweet smell and little girly outfits whirling around his head since he’d spotted her on the first fucking day; he’d pined ever since and she didn’t even know he existed! How could she?

This is fucking impossible, he thinks miserably, wishing that he had any other task. He’d rather steal the Queen’s own goddamn family jewels than this. He glances at his watch once more and groans when he sees it’s almost already two in the morning; pushing himself up off the door, he hangs his head as he scurries back to his dorm room, thoughts spiraling as he plots.

You

A laugh bubbles up past your lips as you sway your hips, your whole body vibrating as “Umbrella” blasts through the speakers while you dance with your friends, partying to celebrate the end of term.

“You can run into my arms, it’s okay, don't be alarmed!” You sing happily, yours and your friends voices mingling together with another peal of laughter; you take another sip of your drink as you move along with the beat of the song, savoring the fizzy strawberry daiquiri as you begin to feel a bit warm from the little rush of alcohol, already on your third drink of the night.

You smile proudly as you spot Felix in the crowd, his hazel eyes already fixed on you, or well, fixated on your chest. His attention makes you preen and you bite your lower lip, the sickly sweet taste of your cherry lip gloss filling your mouth as you purposefully bounce up and down on the balls of your feet.

The thin straps of your pastel pink dress hold on for dear life as your chest heaves enticingly, and you giggle when you see those hazel eyes widen just a bit, no doubt tracing over the glittering chain of your necklace, following down to where it settles, a little sparkly pink diamond nestling temptingly at your cleavage. You teasingly wink, blushing a little when you get a wink back, and go back to dancing with your friends, knowing from experience that Felix preferred to approach rather than be approached.

You dance with your friends for a few more moments, grinding up against any warm body you can find as a raunchier song begins pumping through the speakers, before you feel eyes on you yet again. Smiling at the attention, you glance around again, the low, colorful lighting of the pub making it hard to tell exactly which direction your admirer’s coming from.

Your eyes flit over a few familiar faces, you can’t help but sigh in relief when you notice that Oliver’s eyes are thankfully planted firmly on someone that is not you, though a confused little crease forms between your brows when you realize that Felix’s aren’t either. Turning your head, you sway along to the music still as you look around quickly, your feet beginning to ache finally from the precious little satin Chanel heels buckled around your ankles.

Your eyes finally lock onto an unexpected gaze, a fresh wash of pink coloring your cheeks as blue eyes glance shyly away from you. A little giggle titters past your lips as you lean over to one of your friends, patting her shoulder to get her attention.

“You know who that blond guy is? With the glasses?” You call over the music, nodding over in your admirer’s direction as he stands awkwardly back against the wall by the entrance, clutching a still-foamy pint.

She glances over before turning back to you with a little shrug. “Michael something, I think!” She says, her breath warm as she leans in closer so you can hear her, “I thought Oliver knew him!”

Your eyes immediately find the brunette, predictably following Felix around like a lost little puppy, before you look back over at Michael. You can’t help but feel a bit bad when you see him quickly look away from your direction again before staring intently into his pint glass, one hand shoved in the pocket of his khaki pants.

“I’m gonna take a breather for a second!” You yell over the loud music, leaning in close and cupping a hand over her ear.

“Aw, babe, come on!” She pouts playfully, tilting her head at you, “Stay longer!”

You shake your head with another little laugh and gesture at your feet, “These are sooo cute but they’re killing me!” You laugh, finishing off the last sip of your drink, “I’ll be over by the notice board!” You tell her, blowing a kiss as you walk away from the dance floor of the small, cramped pub.

Finally, you reach the little area by the front door and lean back against the wall, taking in a much-needed deep breath as you pull your little tube of lip gloss out of your bra and carefully reapply some more, smirking when you glance over out of the corner of your eye and see a certain blond boy already shyly eyeing you.

Rubbing your lips together with a little pouty pop, you tuck your gloss back in your bra once more before slowly approaching Michael, prettily manicured hands clasped behind your back to help shamelessly push your chest out more. His wide eyed stare makes you giggle and blush as you study him, eyes flitting appreciatively up and down his lithe frame; so much potential hidden away under a little button down and khakis.

“Haven’t seen you here before,” you tease, smirking when he blushes and all but chokes on his beer, coughing for a few seconds before finally speaking.

“I… Me?” He asks awkwardly, glancing around for seemingly anyone else you could be talking to.

Lucky for him, you find his awkwardness endearing. Truthfully, you had for months, never missing the way his eyes always happened upon you in a crowd. There was something impressive about the boy, something that had made your mind drift to him on more than one occasion, even if you were already under someone else.

“Of course you, silly,” you laugh softly, leaning against the wall next to him and tilting your head curiously, “You’re Michael, right?”

His eyes go wide again and nods wordlessly before finding his voice. “Yeah, Michael,” he says with a reserved little smile, “Gavey! Michael Gavey…” He adds awkwardly, cheeks flushing even more when you giggle, seemingly charmed by his inability to string two words together. He nods as you introduce yourself.

“I know,” he says before blinking, eyes going wide behind his gold framed glasses as he awkwardly glances away, “I just… I mean I’ve heard your name before, that’s all.”

“That’s all, huh?” You echo with a flirty little giggle, twirling a lock of hair around your finger as you let the moment linger, just wanting to push him a little. “What’re you reading?” You ask curiously, cocking your head to the side a little.

“Maths,” he nods quickly before looking down into his pint glass once more as if fizzling beer is the most interesting thing in the world, “I don’t really like it all that much, though… I mostly only picked it because I’m good at it.”

“Ooh,” you coo softly, nodding along with his words as you watch him carefully, “You must be wicked smart, I can’t do maths to save my life.” You comment with a little giggle, biting your lip when he seems to perk up at that comment and looks up at you with a little grin.

“I can do it in my head,” he says lowly, an unexpectedly cocky edge to his voice that has your heart picking up in your chest, “Ask me a sum,” he says, a challenging glimmer in his eyes.

You hum softly, biting your lip as you think for a second, “Uhm, seventy-two plus a hundred and thirteen?”

“One eighty-five,” he chuckles after no more than a second before scoffing a little, “Come on, give me one that’s hard, love.”

Love? The little pet name makes you raise an eyebrow before you laugh softly. “What do you mean a hard one?” You giggle, shaking your head, “That one was hard!”

“That was hard for you?” He teases, making your cheeks tingle as a pink flush settles over your skin, “What’re you reading, then?”

“Art history!” You chirp proudly, chuckling nervously when you see him roll his eyes a bit, “What? Something wrong with that?”

He shakes his head dismissively, quickly polishing off the last of his pint before setting the empty class on a table and turning back to you, pushing his glasses up his nose with a grin, “Ask me another one, then. Biggest numbers you can think of.”

You don’t know why, but something about his little challenge has you blushing again, like he’s testing you somehow. But still, you take a moment to think of some numbers, biting your lip and quirking your eyes up toward the ceiling.

“Six hundred thirty-two times… eight hundred ninety-one,” you hum, cocking your head to the side as you watch him closely. His eyes seem to glaze over, only for a second, before once again he’s spouting off numbers like a calculator.

“Five hundred sixty-three thousand, one hundred and twelve.”

Your eyebrows raise at that as you gawk at him. “Wow…,” you breathe after a moment, blinking as you stare up at him, “You’re, like, super smart, then?”

“Suppose so,” he says, smiling shyly again as he tucks both hands into the pockets of his khaki pants.

You study him for a moment as the conversation lulls, finding something endlessly fascinating about the boy; the way he could swing from being so cocky and self assured to shy and awkward makes your stomach do summersaults. Turning your head, you spot your group of friends still dancing and you look back at Michael with a little sigh as another upbeat song blasts loudly through the pub.

“D’you wanna get out of here?” You ask, smirking when he looks up at you shyly.

“W-What?”

“My dorm’s only, like, a minute from here,” you flirt, sweet and enticing as you make him blush somehow more, “We could go somewhere more… quiet?”

He stares at you for a moment, shocked that you’re asking him of all people to come back to yours before he nods and nervously runs a hand through his wheat colored hair, unsuccessfully trying to act casual. “Yeah, yeah, I can do that.”

“Yay!” You giggle happily, flirtatiously grabbing one of his hands as you saunter past him, heading for the exit, “C’mon, it’s like a five minute walk!” He nods wordlessly and you can’t help but smirk as he follows you like a lost little puppy.

True to your word, it’s only a few minutes later when you and Michael reach your dorm room, after you’d stopped for a minute at the entrance to your hall to chat with Farleigh, who seemed very interested in the nerdy boy following at your heels. You just couldn’t wipe the smirk off your face as you and Michael left him standing at the doors, mouth open and a wicked little gleam in his eyes; no doubt, he’d immediately scurried off to the King’s Arms.

The door to your room opens with a tiny squeak, blasted old building, and you all but prance inside, turning back to the blond boy still lingering in the doorway with a smile.

“Am I going to have to invite you in like a vampire?” You joke with a little laugh as you bend down to quickly undo the buckles of your heels, letting out a relieved sigh when you finally step out of them, leaving you in frilly white ankle socks.

Michael finally steps into your room with a huffed laugh and quickly kicks off his shoes, you smirk when you see his Star Wars themed socks. “‘M no vampire, love,” he quips, gold framed eyes darting around your room as he looks over every detail. You grin at the little blush on his cheeks and perch on the edge of your bed to watch him, head tilted ever so slightly.

“It’s, uh, it’s cute in here,” he observes, his voice a low hum as he takes in your frilly, lacy curtains, plush white rug, and equally girlish floral bedding, all encased in the faint pink glow of the heart-shaped fairy lights strung up around the room, “Just like how I imagined…” He breathes, so lowly you doubt he meant to say that bit aloud.

“Like you imagined?” You echo with a little giggle, quickly reapplying your lip gloss before setting the little tube on the corner of your desk.

“I just… I – It’s just very… you, is all I meant,” he stutters, running a hand through his hair awkwardly, the apples of his cheeks flushed a dark pink.

His awkwardness is so endearing, you can’t help but grin. The more time you spend with him, the more interesting he seems to become; this bumbling, nervous boy is so different from the one you’ve seen on campus so many times. On campus, he’s comfortable, quiet still, but with a definite air of confidence – clearly in his element as he prowls through bookshelves in the library or explains some complex math formula in the quad.

“So, you think about me often, then?” Your voice stays sweet, innocent almost, though you can’t help but tease him; he’s so pretty when he blushes.

“No!” He answers quickly, whipping his head toward you from where he’d been studying the various pictures tacked up on the walls, everything from boy band posters to stills from Clueless and Legally Blonde. “I mean, yes, sometimes, I…,” he fumbles again and pushes his glasses up his sharp nose, “I think about you a normal amount.” He says finally, glancing at you quickly before looking away.

You hum softly and stand before walking toward him with a kind smile, though you don’t miss the way he keeps glancing down at your cleavage, or the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat when he swallows nervously.

“A normal amount?”

“Mhm,” he nods, gaze unsure as you come to stand in front of him, teeth biting into your plush lower lip as you twirl a piece of hair through your fingers, “As much as I think of anyone else.”

“So…,” you breathe, drawing out the word as you reach up and fiddle with the collar of his button down shirt, the turquoise gingham a bright blue blip among all the blush tones of your room, “Every time I’ve caught you looking at my tits in the library or in the quad or in the hallways… that was just a normal amount?”

You giggle as his eyes go wide, his lips opening and closing like a fish out of water. Deciding to take mercy on him, you run a finger down his chest, playfully fiddling with the buttons on his shirt.

“Relax, I’m not mad,” you shake your head, smiling when the tension in his shoulders visibly eases, “Why wouldn’t I want a cutie like you staring?”

His lips part at that as he sucks in a little breath, blue eyes widening behind his glasses. “You think I’m… cute?” He asks breathlessly, heart pounding under your fingertip.

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip once more as you nod, cocking your head to the side just slightly as you peer up at him. “‘Course I do, honey, what’s not to like?”

Again, he gawks at you, blinking in shock and swallowing nervously.

“I –”

“I do have one question though…,” you tease, pouting a bit as you slowly and carefully undo the very top button on his shirt, relishing the way his breath hitches in his throat.

“Y-Yeah?” His voice breaks, making you giggle while he blushes somehow deeper.

“Mhm,” you nod, undoing the second button and pausing when you find a splash of hair across his chest, the same shiny wheat color as the hair on his head, causing a familiar knot to begin twisting itself up in your belly, “Why were you at the end of term party?”

He blinks for a second, evidently taken off guard. “I… W-Was it invite only?”

His question nearly makes you snort and you shake your head, the corners of your lips twitching as you try not to laugh. “No, sweetie,” you peer up at him through your lashes as you rest your hand against his bare chest, smirking ever so slightly when he shivers, “I just meant, I haven’t seen you at parties before… doesn’t really seem like your kind of thing.”

“I, well,” he stammers, the bottoms of his glasses fogging up from the heat radiating off his cheeks, “I just –”

“It’s for that club, yeah?” You ask finally, giggling at the shocked expression on his face.

“How do –”

“You lot are not nearly as sneaky as you think,” you laugh cheekily, bouncing excitedly on the balls of your feet, “Plus, I heard Felix and Oliver whispering about something to do with tasks a few weeks ago… and boys are very bad at keeping secrets once you get their cocks out.” You add with a little giggle, taking Michael’s hand once more and dragging him over to your plush bed. You sit him on the edge before all but climbing in his lap, smiling cheekily as you straddle his thighs, your knees digging into your soft bedding.

“So,” you start, holding onto his shoulders to balance yourself and smiling a little when he finally touches you, lightly resting his hands on your hips, “What’s your task, hm? I heard they made them, like, particularly brutal this year.”

“I don’t think I should say,” Michael murmurs with a little shake of his head, making you pout.

“Oh, come on!” You bounce on his lap a little, not missing the way his eyes seem to be drawn to your breasts like magnets, “I want to help! Is it something at the King’s Arms?”

“N-No, I really don’t think –”

“I know they keep the important rugby trophies there,” you think aloud, still playing dumb, just wanting him to say it, “Is that it? D’you have to steal one? One of the boys that works there owes me, I could get him to let you in after hours…” You prattle on, speaking faster and faster as Michael shakes his head beneath you.

Finally, he seems to reach a breaking point and his grip on your hips tightens. “I have to fuck you!” He blurts out before sighing.

“Oh, really?”

“I… I have to fuck you –”

“Mhm?”

“And prove I did somehow.”

“How interesting!”

He narrows his eyes at that and peers up at you suspiciously, studying you carefully. You can’t help but giggle, loving the way you feel when his eyes are on you, and you smirk when he finally blinks in realization.

“You… you knew this whole time, didn’t you?”

A sly smile spreads across your lips as you nod, squirming excitedly on his lap. “Like I said,” you chuckle with a little shrug, “Not. Sneaky!” You tease, punctuating each word with a little boop to the tip of his nose, unable to resist.

He stays silent for a moment, gazing up at you with a strange mixture of awe and unease before he finally speaks through a deep sigh. “So, I suppose this is the part where you tell me to leave?”

Well, that comment throws you off. You cock your head to the side, confused, as your eyebrows furrow together. “Why would I ask you to leave?”

He sighs again and grits his teeth, looking dejectedly at the floor. “Come on, love,” he mutters, looking anywhere but you, “I-It’s not like you’d ever want to –”

“Ever want to what?” You ask with a frown, gently grabbing at his chin and tilting his head up, forcing him to meet your gaze, “You think I don’t wanna fuck you, honey?”

“Well, I –”

“Michael,” you say pointedly, raising your brows as you smirk slightly, staring deeply into his blue eyes, “I’m the one that came onto you, yeah?”

“I… I suppose.”

“Mhm,” you hum, nodding your head as you run your fingers through his short hair, not missing the little sigh that leaves his lips when you push yourself closer to him, your chest pressing tightly against his, “And while I’m not thrilled at our first time being for some stupid little task –”

“It’s,” he cuts you off shyly, shaking his head ever so slightly, “It’s – I’ve never…” He stammers, nervously gripping at your waist once more.

You can’t help but smile softly, so charmed by him over and over. You nod your head knowingly, raising your brows just a bit. “I know, honey,” you whisper reassuringly, “We don’t have to, I’ll let you take a pair of my panties or whatever else, but we don’t need to do anything.”

He sighs up at you again, so taken with you he feels like he could scream, and shakes his head more, grabbing at your hips tighter, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “N-No, I… I want to,” he nods, swallowing anxiously, “I do, I just… don’t really know what I’m doing.”

You nod again, listening carefully as he speaks. “So, is it all new or…?”

He shakes his head and smiles a little, shyly, though the sight of it still makes that knot in your belly tighten further, making you blush on his lap while butterflies swirl around inside you. “I’ve kissed before,” he says lowly, chuckling awkwardly as he seems to get bolder, causing you to shudder when he lightly rubs his hands over your waist and hips, “And done… hand stuff.”

You giggle at his boyish explanation and bite your lip when you smile at him, wiggling in his lap as a heat begins to settle at the apex of your thighs. “Can I kiss you, honey?”

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat again, making you want so badly to press soft, glossy kisses to it, but you resist, determined to make this good for him.

“Yeah,” he nods eagerly, blue eyes fixated on your lips.

You smile softly before leaning in and finally pressing your lips against his, both of you sighing at once. One of his hands stays at your hip while the other comes to rest in the small of your back, pressing you more tightly to him as your lips move together, his motions surprisingly fluid and practiced.

You make a small noise in the back of your throat when you feel his tongue licking at your bottom lip, and eagerly allow him access with a little sigh. Your fingers busy themselves with unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, making him shudder beneath you when you skim your hands over his bare chest and stomach as his tongue flows with your own, the bitter, coffee-ish flavor of the pint he’d had earlier still on his tongue.

Impatient, you pull back long enough to look at him for reassurance, smiling when you earn a little nod. You kiss him once more before tugging his shirt off, flushing when he groans lowly as you trail kisses down over his jaw and neck before swiping your tongue greedily over his Adam’s apple, making his breath hitch.

“F-Fuck,” he sighs brokenly, bolding tracing over your thigh until his fingers are tucked up under the silky, baby pink material of your dress. His touches make you shiver as goosebumps bloom over your skin, making you whine against the pale column of his throat, “Can I?” He breathes, fingers toying with a strap of your dress while the others slowly inched the bottom of it up higher and higher.

“God, please,” you mewl, nodding against his throat, your head on his shoulder. He shudders at the feel of your breath on his neck and nods once before tugging at the bottom of your dress. You sit up to help him, whining when you feel his hard length pressing against your thin, lacy underwear, “You don’t need to ask, Michael. Want you to take me however you want.” You whisper as he tugs your dress over your head, blue eyes meeting yours for a second as he nods before they skim lower, widening as he takes you in on his lap wearing only a bra and panties.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, making you giggle shyly as you lean in and softly kiss over his cheeks, “You have…you’re – you’re perfect,” he sighs, brazenly cupping your breasts, skimming his thumbs over your nipples through the thin pink fabric of your bra and smiling proudly when he feels them harden at his touch, “You’re perfect, but these are… holy shit.” He repeats, his voice breathy and mesmerized as he takes in your chest for another moment while you softly card your fingers through his golden hair.

You gasp through a little giggle when you feel his length twitch, even through his trousers, and wiggle on his lap, blushing when the movement earns you a broken groan. “Yeah?” You whisper cheekily, watching as he marvels at your chest for a second longer before quickly unclasping your bra and shrugging out of it, tossing it down onto the floor with his shirt and your dress, “What about now?” You tease, proudly arching your back as you bite your lip.

He groans again, louder than he has all evening, and instantly ducks his head down. The feel of his soft lips wrapping eagerly around one of your nipples makes you cry out, gasping sharply as he sucks at the sensitive bud before he runs his tongue over it. You cradle the back of his head in your hands, fingers lightly pulling at the short strands of hair, as he switches from one breast to the other, kneading whichever one is free with his hand.

Needing something, anything, you finally pull him off of your chest after a few moments, laughing when he all but whines, and smiling even more when you take in his disheveled appearance – blond hair sticking up at odd angles from where you’d run your fingers through it, cheeks flushed as his glasses sit crooked on his nose, and his blue eyes staring up at you hungrily.

You shift back on his thighs just enough to snake a hand between the two of you and he gasps when you cup the bulge pressing against the zipper of his khakis. “You want me to suck your cock?” You ask cheekily, lightly squeezing at his length.

He surprises you by shaking his head no,gulping slightly with an awkward laugh before answering. “I do, I really fucking do, love,” he breathes, kneading at your breasts as he stares up at you sheepishly, “B-But I really want to last and if you… if you suck it, I –”

“Okay, okay,” you stop him with a kiss, “We’ll table it for next time.”

“N-Next time?” He questions, fighting to keep his eyes open as you press kisses against his neck once more. You nod against his shoulder and press kisses up to just beneath his ear.

“I’m not letting you go that easy, honey,” you whisper, chuckling when he shivers. You spend another moment softly kissing and biting at his neck before speaking again, “Have you ever eaten anyone out?” You question, pulling back to look at him.

He shakes his head, his eyes flicking between both of yours as he looks up at you. “No.” He answers simply, his voice hardly a whisper.

You can’t help but smirk coyly and cock your head to the side, running a finger through the little patch of hair on his chest just to see him shudder. “You wanna try it?”

He nods eagerly and surprises you once again by quickly swinging you around, maneuvering you until your head rests on the pillows of your bed. You squeal at the movement, laughing with him as he settles over you, his narrow hips slotting easily between your thighs as you silently marvel at his unexpected strength, the shock of it going right between your legs.

“You want me to lick your pussy?” He asks lowly, grinning when he sees your eyes widen ever so slightly.

“You’re quite something, huh?” You breathe, still gazing up at him in surprise.

“Observant,” he shrugs, smirking as he sits up, kneeling between your legs, “You aren’t the only one who is, love.” He teases, quickly undoing his belt and trousers and groaning as he pushes them down his thighs, stopping at his knees.

Your eyes go wide at the size of his length, it’s clearly very impressive and it’s not even out of his plaid boxers yet. That smirk stays plastered on his face as he leans back down to hover over you, hastily removing his glasses and sitting them on your desk before sloppily kissing you for a moment, surprising you yet again by trailing wet kisses down your neck.

“Michael…” You sigh dreamily, arching your back toward him when he starts kissing over your chest. He groans from deep in his chest, mouth pressed against the fat of your breast.

“Fucking hell,” he curses, teasing your nipple again with the tip of his tongue, “Say it again, love.”

His simple command sends shivers down your spine and you mewl, squirming underneath him, “M-Michael!” You moan again, fumbling over your words as he sucks at your breast again before he lifts his head.

“Good girl,” he purrs with a sly, easy smirk that makes your heart jump, a soft sigh tumbling past your lips. He shifts further down the bed, kissing down over your ribs and stomach, his confidence seemingly growing every time he presses his lips against your skin; the thought makes your head spin.

Finally, he hooks his fingers into the lacy sides of your panties, and his eyes peer up at you as he tugs them down over your hips before flinging them onto the floor. “Oh, my God…,” he sighs, staring greedily at your pussy, a broken groan sounds from his throat when you spread your legs more.

You bite your lip and giggle, smiling shyly as you tangle your fingers in his hair once more. “Like what you see?”

He nods his head rapidly, making you chuckle again as he stares up at you, an almost pained expression on his face. “I… uh, w-what now?”

He’s so endearing, you can’t help the little sigh that leaves you and you sit up a little, leaning back on an elbow as you use your other hand to spread your center open. You bite your bottom lip once more when he whines a little, seeing you all spread out before him, flushed folds already slick and shiny.

“Lick here, honey,” you whimper as you skim your fingers over your clit, so keyed up from only a few kisses that you gasp a little when you feel yourself clench; Michael looks like he may pass out.

Ever the dutiful student, he gives you one last look before diving in. Your head falls back with a whiny gasp as his tongue snakes over your clit, just as you’d instructed. A long, shuddery moan leaves him, vibrating against your cunt and you watch as his blue eyes all but roll back in his head.

“Just like that, Michael,” you praise, tugging at his hair ever so slightly, which only serves to make him moan more. Your chest heaves as you watch him, determined not to let your eyes squeeze shut while he licks and kisses and sucks at your pussy like a man possessed, “Holy shit!” You whimper loudly when he pushes his tongue into you, groaning lowly when he feels your walls clench around it as he presses his nose perfectly against your clit.

“You taste so good,” he gasps, wrapping his hands around your thighs to keep you exactly where he wants. He peers up at you through blond lashes as he feasts on you, sucking eagerly at your clit and savoring the way you shiver and squirm from his motions.

Unbelievably, you already feel that warm, familiar tug in your belly beginning to grow, making your whole body feel flush and taut. “Just like that, just like that,” you whine urgently, grabbing onto his hair tighter and guiding his mouth exactly where you need it, your eyes finally rolling back and fluttering shut, “Holy fuck, don’t stop!”

Michael grunts as you tug at his hair, his own hips rutting greedily against your pretty bedding — cock throbbing so hard there’s no doubt he’s leaked through his boxers. He watches you carefully, studying your movements and reactions as best he can while he rhythmically licks at your clit.

“Oh, shit!” You cry not even a moment later, your whole body seeming to stutter as your muscles finally relax. You mewl as your high finally washes over you, savoring the way Michael groans into your cunt as he feels it contracting on his tongue. Your eyes stay squeezed shut as shivers roll up and down your spine, shuddered cries leaving your lips.

Just as his touches begin to border on overstimulation, you have enough wherewithal to push him away, and he releases your center with a lewd little pop.

“Was that good?” He asks through a breathless laugh, swallowing as he looks up at you, evidence of your arousal still shining on his lips and chin.

“Good?” You huff, eyebrows raised as you gaze down at him, “You’re sure you’ve never done that before?” You question in disbelief, chest still heaving.

He smiles shyly, already pink cheeks seeming to flush deeper from your praise as he chuckles. You cup his cheeks when he leans over you again, whimpering as you taste yourself on his tongue.

“You’re unbelievable.” You sign as he kisses down your neck again, making him chuckle against your skin.

“Just observant,” he grunts, shuddering when you wrap your legs around his trim waist. You gasp as his length brushes over your still sensitive pussy, impossibly hot and hard even through the thin fabric of his boxers. His fragmented sigh makes you smile and you tug his head up, blushing as you look up at him.

“You ready, honey?” You breathe, giggling when he nods his head again eagerly, his hips stuttering instinctually against your center. “Here, let me…” You trail off, the two of you separating for a moment as you lean over and pull open the top drawer of your desk, pulling out a pack of condoms and tearing one off before laying back down.

You watch enraptured as he kneels between your legs again, pulling down his boxers finally. “Holy…” you gasp when his cock finally bobs free, twitching up to rut against his lower stomach; he’s long and thick, curving a little as veins run up the underside, leading to a flushed, leaking head. He smiles shyly again at your attention as he shuffles awkwardly out of his trousers and underwear, kicking them off and onto the floor.

You hand him the condom and watch as he rolls it on, giving him a little reassuring smile as he does. Once it’s securely in place, you pull him back to you, eagerly kissing him once more and wrapping your legs securely around his waist. Both of you moan in unison when his length glides through your folds, the head catching perfectly on your clit.

He pulls away with a little gasp, hovering over you as he glances down at your hips. “S-So, I just…” He trails off, watching as you reach down with one hand, grunting softly when you wrap your hand around his cock.

Carefully, you position him at your entrance and angle your hips a little. “Go on, honey,” you encourage with a soft smile, running your other hand over his chest.

Nodding once, he presses forward and swears he sees God. “F-Fucking hell,” he groans, loudly sighing your name as he carefully guides himself into you, absolutely in awe at the way your hot cunt grips him. His eyes squeeze shut, his hips resting firmly against yours as his chest heaves, breaths coming in short, sharp pants.

You aren’t fairing much better, head spinning at the way he splits you open, pressing incessantly at each and every sensitive spot within you. You pant against his neck as he stills, pressed deeply within you.

“D-Do… fuck, do I just…?” Michael stutters, giving half-hearted little thrusts to test the waters.

“Yes!” You answer instantly, anxiously nodding up at him as your hips wiggle against the bedsheets, making him swear and shudder above you, “Just move, honey, do what feels good.”

He groans again and gives a little nod before experimentally moving his hips again, pulling out more this time before pushing back in. “Shit,” he breathes above you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he grunts with each roll of his hips.

You pant underneath him, spurring him on by pressing your feet against his backside, urging him to move faster and faster as the frilly lace from your socks tickles his pale skin. “You’re doing so, so good, oh, my God,” you breathe, your voice high-pitched and whimpery as you tangle your fingers in his hair again, knowing by now that it drives him crazy.

Above you, Michael’s hips slowly but surely begin to stutter, his thrusts starting to peter out as his breathing picks up. “I’m —!”

“Wait!” You blurt suddenly, smiling wickedly as he comes to a screeching halt, pushing himself up enough to stare down at you with wild eyes, “I have an idea…” You tease with a little giggle.

“W-What?”

“You have a phone, yeah?”

“…Yeah?”

“One that can, like, take video?”

“Yes?”

“Grab it,” you laugh, pushing him off of you with a laugh. He rolls his eyes with a smirk but does as you ask, clumsily pulling himself from your heat before stumbling over to where his khakis had landed. He shuffles about for a second before pulling a silver phone from the pocket of his trousers.

“Now what?” He asks curiously, positioning himself back between your thighs, cock twitching meanly.

“Film me.”

“What?!” He gapes at you, brows creased.

“Film me, honey,” you giggle, biting your lip conspiratorially, “For your little task, you need proof, yeah?”

“Well, yeah, b-but I can just take your panties or something, I don’t —“

“Or you could bring back something better…” You smirk, shrugging your shoulders playfully, “We don’t have to but… it could be kinda hot?”

He pauses for a moment, eyes flicking between you, your pussy, and the phone in his hand before he nods once, curtly. “We… we can try it.”

“Yeah? You wanna?”

“Yeah,” he quips, catching you by surprise as a mean little smirk spreads over his lips, “Wanna see the look on Catton’s face when he sees you creaming on my cock.”

Your eyes widen and you huff out a shocked laugh, a zing of electricity lighting behind your eyes. “You’re insane,” you say softly, an endeared smile on your lips.

He snickers, his whole demeanor seeming to change before your eyes as he transforms from this shy, stuttering boy into an astonishingly cocky man. “You like it, love,” he teases, grabbing his dick and positioning himself at your entrance yet again.

“Wait!” You giggle again, blushing as he groans.

“You don’t want to anymore?”

“No, no, not that,” you assure him, affectionately running your hand down one of his shockingly muscular arms, “You can film me… on one condition.”

“‘N what would that be?”

“Take me on a date.” You breathe, suddenly shy. You know he’ll agree to it, but even still, your heart pumps wildly in your chest.

He stares at you for a second, blinking dumbly as he processes your request. “You want me to take you on a date?” He asks, flushing so deeply that the soft pink hue cascades all the way down to his chest.

Giggling, you nod your head, giving his forearm a reassuring squeeze. “You need to start giving yourself more credit, honey.”

He sighs at that, a little astounded huff, before he’s suddenly grabbing at your calves and pushing your legs up toward your shoulders, all but bending you in half, anxious to get his cock back into you. You gasp at the movement, and chuckle at his eagerness, a sound that morphs into a whiny moan when he slides back home.

“Christ,” he grunts, shoulders heaving as he gets used to the way you feel around him once more, “Y-You feel so good, love, fucking perfect.”

“You’re so big,” you whine, nodding as you look at him like he hung the stars in the sky, “You’re so good, Michael, you have no idea.”

He groans above you, hands shaking as he grabs for his phone, flipping it open and quickly opening the camera as his hips rut into you, making the springs of your bed creak softly.

As soon as Michael gives you a little nod to let you know he’s filming, you truly put on a show — or well, you at least stop trying to quiet yourself down and be conscientious of the people in the rooms next to you. The way he has your legs bent back makes him feel somehow bigger and causes his cock to hit that sensitive spot within you with pinpoint accuracy every time he thrusts in, making you clench around him and moan loudly each time he moves his hips against you.

You watch as he angles the camera down a bit, no doubt pointing it at the spot the two of you are joined together, letting the camera record his cock sliding in and out of you. When he moves it back up, however, to get your face as evidence, you plaster on the cheekiest grin you can muster.

“H-Hi boys,” you tease breathlessly, smirking as you lean up on one elbow. You wave with your other hand before blowing a kiss to the camera, which makes Michael cockily laugh.

“Fuck, I gotta…” he mutters after a few more seconds, carelessly dropping his phone down on the bed before roughly grabbing at your thighs with a bruising grip, one that makes you mewl and arch your back toward him. The two of you moan and whimper in unison as he begins thrusting wildly, seemingly too worked up to care about anything but cumming.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You chant over and over, head spinning as he bullies your sweet spot.

“That’s it, love,” Michael murmurs, his voice gruff and low as he stares down at you, strands of his hair sticking to his forehead; he looks wilder than you’ve ever seen him, the thought only serving to push you closer and closer to the edge. “S-Shit, that’s it. Fucking come for me, cream on my cock; please, please, please,” he murmurs, leaning down to press desperate kisses against your neck and collarbones.

The new position causes his pubic bone to rub deliciously over your clit, making you seize beneath him with a loud whine. Your toes curl, heels still pressing into the small of his back. “M-Michael, holy fuck!” You practically squeal as your high finally washes over you once more, stars dancing behind your eyelids as you go lax and pliant underneath him.

The feel of your walls pulsing around his cock has Michael reeling, his hips somehow thrusting even faster as he both desperately wants to cum while also never wanting this feeling to end. “C-Cum, honey, cum,” you pant softly, cupping his cheek with one hand and turning his face toward yours.

That does him in and the rubber band in his belly viciously snaps, making him shudder above you as his thrusts come to a halt, cock twitching wildly inside you as he empties himself into the condom. You watch him in awe, taking in every detail from the way his nose scrunches up as his eyes squeeze close to the way he whispers your name over and over like a prayer.

The two of you lay in silence for a moment, his breath warm against your neck as he slumps against you trying to catch his breath.

Eventually, you can’t help it anymore and let out a breathless giggle, which only intensifies when he props himself up on an elbow to peer down at you with a smirk.

“Something funny?”

“Just,” you breathe, trying to calm yourself enough to get words out, “Just… wow,” you finally say, giggles petering out as you look up at him, the soft gleam in his eyes makes your heart clench in your chest.

“Good wow?” He blushes, looking down between the two of you as he pulls himself from your walls with a little hiss.

“Very, very good wow,” you confirm, grinning as you watch him pull off the condom before he peers up at you with a sheepish grin. “Tie it off, honey,” you instruct, smirking as he does just that, before nodding to the little wastebasket by your desk.

He gets up with a groan and quickly tosses the condom in the trash before turning back to you, the bashful look on his face making you blush.

Unable to resist, you grin at him and spread your arms with a giggle, wordlessly inviting him for a cuddle, which he gladly accepts. The bed creaks slightly as he lays back down, relaxing his head on the pillow just beside yours. Again, the two of you stay silent for a moment, content to merely gaze at one another, before he shyly looks away and sighs.

“I…,” he starts, blue eyes blinking and flitting around your room as he gathers his thoughts, “Thank you,” he finally says, looking back at you with a little half smile.

Your brows furrow at this as you grin at him. “What’re you thanking me for?”

“Well, f-for… this,” he says, gesturing vaguely at the two of you before sitting up just slightly and fishing around in the blankets for a second. “And this,” he sighs, holding his phone up before twisting around to set it on the corner of your desk, turning back to you. “I just… I know you didn’t have to, is all, so…”

You cock your head to the side as you prop yourself up on an elbow, eyes narrowing as you study him closely. “And people have the nerve to say I’m thick,” you joke, lips spreading into a wide grin as you gaze down at him, “I wanted to do all this, Michael. I’m the one that came onto you, remember?”

“W-Well, yeah, but —“

“No buts!” You laugh, pressing a finger against his lips as you shake your head, “I have eyes too, you know.”

“What does that mean?”

“You haven’t been the only one watching someone for months,” you giggle shyly, pressing your forehead against his, “I meant what I said about that date, too.”

His arms wind around your waist, holding you tight as he processes your words with a dumbstruck smile, blushing under your gaze. “Whatever you say, love,” he concedes finally, pressing his lips against yours sweetly.

He yawns tiredly when he pulls away from you after a moment, which only makes you yawn as well, and you glance over at the little clock on your dresser. “Christ,” you gasp, turning back to him, “I didn’t realize it’s already almost four… you can crash here, if you want?”

He considers it for a moment, knowing he has to be back in that stupid little basement by noon and making a mental map of where exactly your dormitory is in relation to the Merton College Chapel. “I… I can stay, yeah,” he finally nods after a moment.

“You’re sure?”

“Love, I’m not sure my legs work well enough yet to walk out of here anyway.”

Michael

Groaning, Michael slowly blinks his eyes open, rubbing them softly as he sits up in bed with a yawn. Blindly reaching over for his glasses, he’s confused when he doesn’t feel them in their usual spot and finally opens his eyes properly.

He stares, confused for a moment as to how exactly he somehow got transported into what appears to be Barbie’s damn dream house, before the events of last night come flooding back to him.

“Holy shit,” he breathes when he turns his head and sees your still-sleeping form beneath your flowery sheets, your hair tousled wildly on the pillow as your shoulders rise and fall evenly still with each breath. Looking around, he finally spots his glasses and puts them on before reaching for his phone, and cursing again when he sees the time.

11:47 AM.

He practically falls out of your bed as he tries to extricate himself from the sheets, and he hears you wake with a start behind him as he grabs wildly at his clothes on the floor.

“Michael?” You ask questioningly, your voice still hoarse from sleep as you, frankly fucking adorably, rub at your eyes before fixing him with a curious look.

“Gotta, shit, gotta run,” he explains quickly, cursing as he nearly loses his balance trying to tug his trousers on, “Need to be at Merton Chapel in, like, Christ, ten minutes!”

“Ohh,” you giggle softly, watching with amusement as he finishes getting dressed, hair and clothes so disheveled that he’s sure he looks like the very definition of the walk of shame.

Just as he’s tugging his shoes on and making a mad dash for the door, you stop him. “Here,” you smirk, holding out the same lacy pair of pink panties you wore last night, “For proof,” you explain, nodding to the phone in his hand, “Along with that. Should be more than enough,” you giggle proudly.

He smiled sheepishly as he pockets your underwear. “T-Thanks,” he nods, turning to leave before you stop him once more.

He can’t help but blush when you lean in and press and quick kiss to his lips, your cherry chapstick rubbing off on him some. Pulling away, you playfully smack his chest with a little grin. “Go get ‘em, honey.”

Nodding, he smiles again before finally pulling your door open and bounding down the hallway. “I’ll text you, love!” He calls, peering back just before he rounds a corner, “About that date!”

It’s 11:58 on the dot when he flings the basement door open, only to be pulled over to the same stupid dank basement wall, his back hitting it once more with a dull thud.

Glancing around, he sees the ski-masked boys again, all fifteen of them, standing in a row with the head boy slightly out of line. To his left stands one of the other initiates, clutching a black tube of some sort.

The basement stays silent for a moment before one of the masked boy’s watch alarms goes off just as the bells in the tower begin to chime.

Once, twice, all the way up to twelve. Noon.

Right on cue, the head boy steps forward even more and looks between Michael and the other initiate. “Your friend couldn’t be bothered to show his face, then?” He asks, dark eyes peering at the boy next to Michael.

He scoffs and shakes his head, glaring at the head boy. “He’s still at the bank!” He snaps, “All the way in bloody Switzerland,” he kicks at the dirty stone floor as he explains, “Dickhead,” he finally mutters lowly under his breath.

“Shame,” the head boy quips, clasping his hands in front of his waist, “Some men are simply not cut out for Bullingdon.”

The boys in the row behind him nod knowingly, each making some little noise of affirmation until the head boy quickly stops them, holding a fist up by his head, bringing it back down to his side when they shut up.

“So, initiates, what’ve you got?”

The boy next to Michael steps forward first and hands the black tube to the head boy with a sigh. “There,” he says, gesturing to it, “There’s your bloody map. My mum could get sacked for that.”

The head boy pops open one end of the tube, a document sleeve Michael now realizes, and gingerly extracts a rolled up piece of parchment from it, unrolling it just enough to confirm it's what they asked for.

“Well done, initiate,” he nods, seemingly impressed as he flashes a smile at the boy, white teeth gleaming creepily through the slit in his ski mask. Carefully, he rolls the document up again before sliding it back in the tube, “Your commitment to Bullingdon will take you far. Welcome to the fray.”

The boy stands still for a moment, eyeing the document tube with an almost regretful expression before curtly nodding and taking his place back against the wall.

“And then there was one,” the head boy murmurs, dark faze fixed on Michael, “I seem to remember we gave you quite the… interesting task indeed, initiate. How did you manage?”

Smiling damn near arrogantly, Michael all but skips up the head boy and proudly pulls your panties from his back pocket, letting them dangle from his index finger. “See for yourself.”

The head boy grabs them by the edge and studies them for a moment, turning back to the row of boys behind him with a questioning glance. The boy Michael knows already to be that cunt, Oliver Quick, glances between him, the panties, and Michael, before cutting a sideways glance to a tall boy standing next to him.

“These could be anyone’s,” the head boy says, turning back to Michael as he shakes his head, “You could’ve nicked them from your sister or something, we’ll need more than this, initiate.”

“Don’t even have a sister,” Michael quips, shrugging his shoulders with a little frown.

“Okay, like, your cousin or something then –”

“Don’t have a female cousin,” he says with a shake of his head, “All boys.”

“The point still stands!” The head boy finally snaps, making Michael bite the inside of his cheek to hide a little laugh, though the corner of his lips still quirks up in a smirk, “You haven’t got any proof, do you? Is that why you’re stalling?”

Huffing a little laugh, Michael finally lets himself smirk meanly and steps closer to the head boy as he pulls his phone from his pocket, flips it open, and navigates to his video gallery. “Is this enough proof?” He teases, pressing play on the most recent video.

The picture is small and grainy but there’s no doubt as to what’s happening as the sound of your pretty whimpers and moans echoes around the brick basement, along with the wet smack of Michael’s cock driving into you again and again.

The head boy stares at the screen still as curiosity gets to a few of the boys in the row behind him and they all come crowd around Michael’s phone, eyes widening behind their ski masks and mouths falling open.

The tallest one, the one Oliver keeps glancing at, lets out a long sigh as he peers down at the small screen and brings a hand up to his head as if he were going to run it through his hair before remembering the mask he has on. With him this close, Michael finally notices the little silver barbell stuck through his eyebrow and shivers as his lips curl up into a sadistic Cheshire cat smile, a tidal wave of savage pride crashing through his system.

Finally, fucking finally, I get something he wants, he thinks as your breathy moans continue to pour from the speaker of his phone, tinny and muffled in some spots where he’d accidentally covered the microphone, but beautiful, beautiful and because of him.

After a moment, the video ends, the tiny phone screen reverting back to it’s little thumbnail as the head boy peers up at Michael, the rest of the club members taking their places back in line, though he can’t help but notice that Felix’s broad shoulders are slumped now and Oliver stands ever closer to him, like some kind of fucked up bodyguard.

“I’ll be damned, initiate,” the head boy sighs with a shake of his head, “I really didn’t think you had it in you.”

He watches as Michael merely nods and pockets his phone again, holding it tightly in his fist even still. After a second, he smiles widely and claps a hand on his shoulder, shaking him slightly.

“Welcome to Bullingdon.”

Some time later, Michael finally exits the basement, a few of the club members, sans ski masks now, nodding goodbye to him as they disperse across campus, meeting adjourned.

He wasn’t really sure what he’d been expecting from the initial meeting but it was mostly them prattling on about where exactly they had all their grubby little fingers, poked in seemingly every facet of society from Parliament to local newspapers.

Braggy cunts, Michael thinks as he ambles outside, glancing up at the sky as he steps into the Mob Quad, surrounded by stony old buildings.

Smiling to himself, he pulls out his phone and quickly finds your number in his contacts list, blushing when he sees you’ve taken the liberty of adding some girly heart emoticon next to it. He hardly has time to press it against his ear before you answer.

“Well?” You demand with that now familiar giggle, some unfamiliar pop song playing in the background.

“I’m in,” he confirms, nodding to himself as he slowly walks in the direction of his dormitory, “Thanks to you.” He smiles like an idiot when you laugh.

“Don’t sell yourself short, honey,” you tease, he can picture your bright, glossy smile in his head, “You earned that spot.”

Michael merely shakes his head with a happy little sigh. “So,” he starts, clearing his throat and pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “About that date… I was thinking the King’s Arms? Tonight at six, if that works?”

“Oooh, tonight at six,” you repeat teasingly, an image flashing in his mind of you twirling your hair around a perfectly manicured finger, “Someone’s quite eager, hm?”

“Can you blame me?”

“Hmm, I suppose not,” you giggle, pausing for a second, “It’s a date then.”

“Fantastic,” Michael sighs, trying with every fiber of his being to sound casual and cool about the whole thing, even as his heart threatens to beat out of his chest.

“See you tonight, Mr. Bullingdon,” you tease, making a little kissy sound into the phone before hanging up.

Michael pauses for a moment, standing to the side on the pavement as he nods to himself. If it weren’t so fucking cheesy, he’d raise his fist in the air, victorious, à la Judd Nelson at the end of The Breakfast Club.

Instead, he flips his phone back open and navigates back to your video. Sighing, he stares at the little thumbnail for a second before deleting it, pocketing his phone once more, and continuing back to his dormitory.

He has the real thing now.

taggled lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @wickedfrsgrl @echos-muses @imawhorecrux @avidreader73 @marvelescape @rae-11 @ms-morningstarr @chaotic-fangirl-blog @grsveeth0m @twglitching @hb8301 @delulumhaggy @burntliquorlips @fan-goddess @cl-0-vr @kittendoll05 @beautbuck @eponaartemisa @trshngyn @brettlovessuckingcocks @alerisc @moonriseoverkyoto @wolfdressedinlace @do-double-g @kennafild

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

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vool-zam · 7 months ago

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hey, I'm likely shrieking into the void rn. and probably two ppl will read this. but. I ranted about this on my old blog/in the tags. and. it's still on my mind 💀

just wanted to let u all know that I want this blog to be a VERY conversation-friendly and collaborative space!! I wanna follow ur stories and art w/bated breath and screech about them in the tags/comments!!

part of what burnt me out on simblr the first time around was how isolating/weirdly competitive it began to feel. all the weird hoopla about big/small simblrs. keeping ur blog "clean" and full of only ur own content. the anti-reblog/commentary culture for the sake of aesthetics. feeling like u were on the grind to always produce "content" that somebody would look @ for five seconds & then never again.

and ofc, most of that was very internal. @ the end of the day, ur experience in a community is what u make it. but, I mean, I can't deny.......it burnt me out.

this is even more apparent to me after being in other fandom spaces & having the polar opposite experience. it's really shown me that fandom is only truly sustainable when everyone is excited about the same stuff/willing to engage w/each other.

so. tl;dr: pls feel free to chat w/me on here. link me to ur stories/gameplay!! I really wanna have FUN this time around. u know.

#been rotating this in my mind lately #I've jumped into multiple fandoms over the last two years and um.#simblr feels markedly different than any of them. it feels kinda........hrmm. here. @ times #actually. the only comparable feeling. is being a gifmaker on this website #<-if u know u know #ANYWAYS. trying to combat potential future burnout by being like HEYYYYYY 👀👀👀 let's be goofy together lmao #sam speaks

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scribble-dee-vee · 10 months ago

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Writeblr Intro circa 2024

Hi writeblr!! Sooo, I've been around here since about 2014. (Yes, I am ancient.) However, I've been dormant for the past 4-5 years. Blame college and a brief stint on Twitter. Now that I'm active again, I thought I should make an updated writeblr intro so ppl know my Deal. Basically, I want to engage with other folks who write fiction (esp original SF), and that's a little easier if I have a clear post that outlines what I do. Here to make connections and hear about your blorbos :)

About me

Hi, I'm Vee! They/them, 23, 💖 🤍 🧡

I do journalism/comms in western New York

My literary jam is feminist/adult SF and gothic lit (OG or modern) 🥀 ⚔️ 🌙

Enthusiastic about gay people, body horror, and sociopolitical allegories

I cook, run, play tabletop games, and occasionally draw. Other than that, I'm mostly writing (for work and for fun)

If you were on pre-2020 writeblr, you likely know me from my eight billion daily tag games. (I still like tag games and appreciate u for tagging me. I have also gained adult responsibilities and better mental health, so I respond very slowly now. <3)

Always happy to get asks or dms, tho as I've noted: I may reply slowly.

Sometimes open to beta read! I only read one longer project at a time, but it's always super fun :)

I tag very consistently – happy to tag triggers for followers/moots

Fun fact: I love mushroom hunting and worked as a mycology TA. #cottagecoreera 🍄 🧚‍♀️ 🌱

About my creative writing

I write,,,, feminist/adult SF with gothic leanings (surprise!)

Longform and short! Trying to do more short writing this year, and I'll likely share a bit on Tumblr. It's easier to clip a short story than a 150k novel, god bless.

The Aesthetic: moral g(r)ays, Victoriana, androids/cyborgs, Women™, monstrous femininity, incessant Hamlet/Frankenstein motifs, extremely boring socioeconomic worldbuilding, evil queens and/or dilfs, psychosexual witchcraft, probably a cat. Also, an ominous, plot-relevant letter laced with anthrax from your unhinged and brilliant ex-wife. Open if you dare.

Major projects

I'm going to be writing some short work this year, but these are the longer projects that I have going in the background. If I reblog blorbo-related text posts, they probably have something to do with these.

Let me know if you want to be added to any project-specific taglists 😎

Heart of Lead – Series

The big one

Perpetually evolving

Never ceasing

Pls send help I can't stop adding shit

5-book gothic fantasy epic that I'll definitely publish one day but probably no time soon! My bastard child, my wicked firstborn, my greatest love <3

Character-oriented political drama set in a pseudo-Victorian, dystopian oligarchy where everyone's heart is made out of metal. It's about coming of age and discovering queer identity in a world that is absolutely fucked. God is an extraterrestrial lesbian who gives ppl very traumatizing magic powers. There are cyborgs, shapeshifters, and morally gray women in STEM. It's tight as fuck idk what else what to tell u.

Book 1 is about achillean monarchists, and book 2 is about sapphic anarchists. There are only two genders, I guess.

At this point, I've drafted most of the books at least once. Working to refine a lot of raw material atm!

Tag: "heart of lead tag" or "hol tag"

Lost Letters – Book

Aka the current active HoL WIP, and book one in the revised series structure

Length: 80k as of now; around 120-140k when the first draft is finished, I presume.

Genre: adult fantasy, gothic, noir detective drama?? um?? If you want me to frame it in BookTok terms (why?) it's a dark academia villain x villain tragic romantasy. Hrgh.

Summary: Cyborg soldier goes to college, joins a shady socialite frat, and falls in love with the jilted heir-apparent to the throne. Hilarity ensues.

(By "hilarity," I mean a militant revolutionary faction and a tragedy of Greek proportions.)

POV characters: Charles (the cyborg), Dale (the heir), and Cecelia (Charles' sister, a junior detective, the love of my life and potentially the Chosen One???)

This book is twisty and dark and immensely fun to write.

I'm about halfway through the first full draft! Hoping to share snippets and vaguepost about my children here.

Tag: "lost letters tag" (also "hol tag," tho that one's less specific)

The Last of Mortal Tourists – Book

The next longform project on the docket!

Length: a standalone work that will hopefully fall on the shorter novel/novella spectrum.

Genre: literary SF, cyberqueer, psychological space quest

Summary: The consciousness of a dead coding genius, trapped inside a spaceship, seeks a new planet to sustain their sister, the last surviving human, after the destruction of Earth.

If you're here to get wildly philosophical about gender and the myth of essential self, this is the story for you! That's why I'm writing it, lol. 🏳️‍⚧️ 🚀 🤖

This one started out as a short story (100% finished) which I want to expand.

POV: Archer Alto, the coder. Spaceship? Human? Soul?

Supporting Cast: Pandora, the last human, and Abby, a holographic impression of Archer's childhood consciousness

Tag: "the last of mortal tourists tag" or "tlomt tag"

If you read all this way, you get a whole bouquet of flowers that are certainly NOT poisonous: 🌸 🌹 💐 🥀 🌺

#writeblr #writing #writeblr intro #for my mutuals #scribble-dee-vee #project intro #hi writeblr!#original post #hol tag #heart of lead tag #lost letters tag #tlomt tag #pls feel free to tell me abt u in tags/replies!!#would love to expand my active writeblr connections #and yah like I said lmk about those tag lists #I def want to post more snippets/tags this year

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deepdisireslonging · 1 year ago

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Backstage Spender

The Reader works for the Penguin as a dancer. Undercover, Dick Grayson comes in at Jason’s request for a case. He’s distracted more than once in the process.

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Dancer!Reader

Warnings/Promises: canon-level violence, erotic dancing

Word Count: 2750

Note: This is the first part of the Summer Playlist Series! If you enjoy it, reblogs and comments are super appreciated. And keep an eye out for the next four songfics. Enjoy!

Song: “Big Spender” by Peggy Lee

Working for The Penguin wasn’t the safest thing to do in Gotham, but it was one of the best paychecks a girl could get. The Iceberg Lounge had great insurance (needed for when backstage negotiations broke down), dental, and quarterly bonuses. And because the club money was supposedly kept separate from Mr. Cobblepot’s other dealings, you could accept a paycheck without guilt.

The music pulsed and thrummed as the busiest hours of the night reached their peak. Soon, you’d have to join your coworkers. You were part of the grand finale: a striptease involving large feather fans. (Everybody ignored the fact that ostrich feathers didn’t match Mr. Cobblepot’s usual aesthetic.) You would also have the last dance before the finale. Until then, you and the other dancers helped booze up the patrons. Money exchanged hands at every table for drinks, light dinners, and other ventures you ignored. What you couldn’t ignore was the handsome figure sitting close to the dance floor.

“Isn’t that one of the Wayne boys,” your coworker asked. “He’s sitting right on your corner.”

Another girl joined your spot by the bar. “You’re gonna show off for him, right? Get all of his daddy’s dough so you can really enjoy your vacation this weekend.” She gasped at your hesitation. “You should! Look at him. Big smile, big pockets. Shake every cell you got-“

“Yes! Get it, girl!”

With a groan, you turned away from him. “He’s just a normal customer.”

“A first-time customer.” She grinned as both of your friends nudged you at the same time. “Give him a show he’ll never forget.”

You looked back. What could it hurt? He watched the rest of the lounge’s bustle with such delight, maybe he would be delighted by a personal show. “I’ll think about it.” With a huff, you lifted your tray of drinks to the sound of your coworker’s continuing persuasions.

By the stage, Dick Grayson gently held his head on his palm. Underneath his hair, he pressed a com-link deeper into his ear. “Calm so far. What exactly are you looking for, Jay?”

“Some weapon big-wigs should walk in sometime before the main show, then disappear into the back while everybody else leaves.” Jason tsked over the coms. “Whatcha worried about? Your reputation?”

Dick glanced to the side at another table. Money passed over the top, while a small package passed underneath. “Perhaps. Gordon could retire tomorrow in the Mayor’s good graces if he raided tonight. You are keeping an eye out for cops, right? I don’t need to start a wrap.”

“The only cop around there is you. Now keep your eyes open.”

Dick rolled them instead. Again, he glanced at his watch. There wasn’t much time left. Maybe Jason had the meet-up time wrong. Or the day. Or the month. One could never tell-

Blurred by the echo of the room, the stage host announced the last performance before the big finale.

Dick took a deep sigh as another song from before the 60’s started to play in the very modern setting. He sat up straight as a pair of large broad shoulders walked through the far doors. He sat up even straighter when the shimmer of silver and purple drew his gaze to the center of the stage.

The bar bolted to the floor at the end of the stage was your baseline. You strutted to it, eyeing the men in the front row. At the first roll of the trombone, you sank to your knees. That jump-started the hooting. And really caught the eye of your main target. You maintained holding his gaze. As Peggy Lee’s voice described her beau, you leaned back against the bar, readying for your first series. He watched you circle the pole, eager as anyone in the room to see you climb it. As the trombone trilled again, you began to spin.

“Wouldn’t you like to have fun, fun, fun?” You leapt off the pole, walking around the catwalk to twirl your bare legs in front of the patrons. “Let me show you a-“ you bumped your hips in time with the music, “good time.”

As the chorus set in again, you dismounted the stage and made for his chair. At first, he seemed hesitant, looking around at the other patrons. Then your shimmering body held his attention. “Hey big spender… spend a little time with me.” Gently, you stepped between his knees and turned away. Glancing over your shoulder, you were delighted to see his hands twitch against his thighs. Instead of reaching for you, he slid a wallet out of his pocket.

But before he could pull out a single bill, your song sped up, signaling the end. He hungrily watched you walk away. Green fluttered onto the edge of the stage, but you were already twirling around the pole. For the last note, you spun as fast as you could, dangling back by your knees. To applause, you did your best to catch the money people threw at your outstretched hands. You did a quick set of bows around the stage, collecting the larger bills people held up.

The Wayne man held up a one hundred bill. With a wink, you let your hand trail over his to claim it. Damn, if it wasn’t the end of the night, you’d offer him the private show he deserved. Instead, you slipped backstage to change costumes.

Dick was speechless. Maybe it was the atmosphere. Maybe it had been the glitter of your costume. But he was thinking about finding you after the show when an irritated voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Earth to Nightwing?”

Dick shook himself. Eying side to side, he noted everyone around was too busy watching the stage to notice how flustered he was. “Yeah, what?”

“Where’d they go?”

“Who- oh. They, uh, they’re-um-“

Jason groaned. “You lost them? You lost them!”

Dick stood as the finale’s music began. “I didn’t lose them. Had to keep my eyes forward to keep my cover. Will you calm down?” He walked over to the bar, leaning against it to have a better view of the room. Quickly he scanned the tables. The targets were not visible, meaning they must be backstage. “They headed back, probably to a business room. Give me a minute, and I’ll have an in.” He located the stage door just as the music began to swell again.

On stage, feathers fluttered left and right, creating a wave of cover for everyone to walk out. You tried to catch sight of your biggest tip, finally noticing him against the bar. You tried to wink, but the choreography spun you away. By the time you’d spun back, he was gone. Was he running away from you? Or maybe heading to his car before the exit rush? Deflated, you finished the rest of the number and left the stage with a smile that evaporated once you hit the wings. All around you, your coworkers flitted from one side of the small dressing room to the other collecting their things. Some would go home together to tiny apartments. And some would go home with a new acquaintance met during the night.

You’d go home alone.

Stuffing the last of your things into a bag, you walked out into the hall. Engrossed in your phone, you didn’t hear the scuffle until you bumped into it.

The back doorman had the Wayne son by the neck, pinning him to the wall. Any second now, it looked like he was going to knock his lights out.

“What are you doing?” You rushed over, tugging at the bouncer’s arm with no effect. “Since when do we beat up patrons?”

“Since when do I just let boys walk back here when you girls are going home?” The guard pinned you with a hard eye up and down. You hadn’t really changed out, opting for a simple black silk wrap dress on top. “Since when does the boss let you take costumes home?”

You’d forgotten about that rule. Quickly, you reached out to try and tug the Wayne to yourself. “He’s with me.”

The bouncer let go of his neck at least, though keeping a hold on the front of his shirt. “That true, kid?”

Dick gulped in air, only partially for looks. “Well,” he swallowed thickly, “she did invite me to spend some time with her-“

“Is he paying?”

“Oh, yes.” Enthusiastically, you nodded and managed to rip him out of the guard’s grip.

“Hmm.” With a huff, he nodded at the doors that led to the private rooms. Convinced that’s where you’d go, he left for the bar.

Both of you sighed in relief.

You recovered first. “So, why were you back here?” Noticing his gaze drifting down your chest, you pulled the silk over your cleavage. “Well? Why’d I stick my neck out for you?”

“Right. Ah- I’m not actually back here for you.” Like a nervous child, he reached up to run his hand over the back of his head. “I’m looking for a friend- an ex friend- who might be giving something of mine to a new friend of his. Do you happen to know where the office is?”

“Maybe.” Crossing your arms, you bit back a grin to see his shoulders slump. “How much cash you got on you?”

“What?”

You rolled your eyes. “After you snoop, you’re gonna need an out. And since our large, grumpy friend is under the impression that I’m doing an extra session, you need to pay for the dance you’re gonna get. How much cash you get?”

He winched. “Not enough. You guys take card?”

Was this guy dense? Or just naive? You looked at him. “Yeah. But I don’t take it you want anybody knowing you’re here. There’s an ATM by the bathroom. It ID’s as a coffee shop across town so guys don’t have this place on their bank statements.”

“Brilliant,” he said, impressed. “I’ll, ah, go do that now and meet you back at… the rooms.”

At first, you headed to the private rooms. But before the door could close, you stuck your head out. Instead of the direction towards the ATM, your new headache was walking down the hall towards the boss’s office. With a sigh, you removed your shoes and followed him.

Dick kept an eye out for any more guards but made it to the ornate door without any more problems. From his pocket, he took out a small device. He knelt, feeding it under the door and tapping his ear com. From inside the office, he heard everything he wanted to. And Jason did too.

“Finally,” Jason said. “Took you long enough.”

“Sorry. I had a shadow. And then a necklace,” he rubbed his neck. “But are you satisfied?”

”Yeah. I’ve got enough. Get outta there.”

Before Dick could say anything else, Jason was gone. Hissing into the com didn’t bring him back, so Dick assumed his exit would be without back up. Even then, based on what he heard… Dick gathered up his tech. Maybe after they left he could-

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder. It spun him around, bringing him face to face with a guard bigger and grumpier than the last one.

“Wohoo-“

The guard turned. Then dropped after a punch to the jaw.

You stood on the other side, massaging the ache in your wrist. “What? I’m a Gotham girl. What were you expecting? A Metropolis waif?”

Dick grinned. He was about to thank you when the door creaked. Fast as lightening, he grabbed your wrist and tugged you into the shadows. No one came out. And the guard was hopefully low enough to be invisible to the peep-hole. Penguin didn’t have cameras around the office. Can’t be indicted on hacked cameras if they don’t exist.

With a nudge, you motioned behind you to the back hallway. You waited until there was a reasonable distance between you and the office before pinning him to the wall by his lapels.

“I thought you were getting money for our cover?”

He shrugged. “I lied. I’ve already got the money.” He shifted. “Got a Gotham grip too. Ready to-“

You pressed against him into the shadow of some stage crates. The guard you’d knocked out walked by rubbing his chin. He looked like he was headed to the bar.

“We’d better go. Come on.”

It was the longest, most silent sprint of your life. You didn’t breathe again until the private door was between you and the hallway. You made him sit down in the ‘throne’, as your crew called it, and shed the silk before turning on the lights. Without music, you swayed your hips and leaned into his face.

He swallowed thickly, suddenly reminded why he wanted to come back while not on Jason’s time. “Thanks for your help. I can just pay you if-“ He gasped as you turned, grinding your ass into his crotch. He grabbed your hips, but you batted him away. “You really know how to distract a guy, don’t you?”

You hummed a laugh. Angling back, you nuzzled your nose against his cheek. “I’m hoping for a bigger tip since I gave you the extra help.”

“I might do that.” His eyes closed. Once again, his hands slid over your body. But you didn’t push them away as he spoke. “If I can help out financially in any way, maybe you could help me again some- is it safe to talk in here?”

As you spun face him and sit on his lap, it took everything in you not to laugh at the surprise in his face. “Yes. There’s video in case someone gets too hands. But no audio.” You began to swivel your hips, making his mouth drop open. You would be lying if his handsomeness mixed with the danger wasn’t doing something to you too. “Video starts recording when the lights turn on. But there would be too much to listen to and store in security with all the rooms and the floor. So, video suffices.” As you angled your head back to sway, he leaned in and placed a kiss against your neck. It knocked the air out of you. “That- that costs extra, y’know.”

“Mhmm.” He guided you to lean your head the other way with the crook of his finger on your chin. “I’ve got deep enough pockets.”

You quickly lost control of the dance. Instead, you began to move based on what felt good for you instead of giving your patron all the pleasure. He began to notice your breathlessness.

“If you need a name to whisper, my friends call me Dick.”

“I bet they do.”

When your eyes closed, he looked you up and down. He waited until it looked like you were blissed out to mummer, “I really have to go.”

“Yes.” You dug your hands into his hair. “You should.”

With a deep kiss to your chest, he managed to push you away. “We both should go. Your bouncer will be waiting to see me to the door.” His big blue eyes held you in place. Trailing his finger down the side of your face, he managed to whisper, “if I had more time.“

“We could have a lot of fun.” You forced a smile and stepped off his lap. “Maybe some other time. When you come back, ask for Starfire.”

“I’ll do that.”

He helped you back into your robe and saw you to the dressing room door. The guard was outside, indeed ready to escort him out. Peacefully.

When he was few minutes down the road, the com-link crackled to life. Jason’s usually irritated calm voice had a tinge of worry. “Where are you?”

“On my way home.” Dick failed to keep the satisfied smile out of his voice. “I had to follow a lead.”

“Oh,” Jason teased. “Has Bruce Wayne’s golden child following daddy’s footsteps by claiming his first conquest?”

“No.” Dick rolled his eyes. “Maybe I just like this woman. Not to mention, she’s got a mean left hook. Might ask her to join the team.”

“That’ll be the day.”

***

The next day when you walked in, all the girls were waiting for you.

“So, how was your night?”

You ignored them with a smile.

They gathered around. One of them said, “Rebecca had a night with Bruce Wayne a few years ago. Said he was phenomenal.”

It was a hook. And you took the bait.

“She can keep him. I’ve got the better Wayne.”

***

Masterlist

Other Dick Grayson fics:

Hey Bartender (Angst)

We’re Closed (Plot, Fluff, implied Smut)

Arrangement (Money Angst, Fluff, Implied Smut) (Start of Series)

#dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #pwp #summer playlist 2023 #DC comics #batfam x reader #reader insert #dick grayson fluff

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