#which is how i then end up w real life men in real life telling me 'well I've fucked lesbians before so we should hook up'

[filmnoirsbian]

Everyday on social media is just someone else saying "lesbians do fuck men, actually" while trying to make it seem #liberal instead of just your garden variety homophobia

[bunnyboy-juice]

spent the first hour and change at work deleting some old files and am having a grand ol time laughing at myself for not realizing i was a lesbian sooner

[whore-era]

1-800-GIRLS - part 2

☁︎ modern!ellie x sex-hotline-operator!fem!reader, very small mention of dealer!ellie ☁︎ summary: in which ellie takes her favorite phone sex hotline operator out on their first date! ☁︎ warnings: contains smut! 18+ only. top/dom!ellie, bottom/sub!reader, interactions with men, dirty talking/praise, fingering (r!recieving), use of fem nicknames, slight mention of petplay, let me know if i missed anything else pls. ☁︎ a/n: back by popular demand, and to thank you all for 1k. i love u all from the bottom of my heart. thank u all so so so much. also there will be NO PART 3! s/o to my girl @clearheartgreyflowers for staying up w me til 3am writing smut LMAO ☁︎ word count: 5,124 ☁︎ 1-800-GIRLS part 1

thursday, 1:15am → ongoing call with sir steven (ft. lauderdale, FL)

sir steven (client): thank you, sugar. did good as always, pretty lady.

sugar: no problem, sir.

sir steven (client): have a good night, darlin'. good night.

the line clicks on the other end, and you finally let out a big stretch, able to relax as you close the hotline for the night. you made 13 calls tonight, which usually wouldn't be enough to help with bills, but much to your dismay, ellie had been sending you money nonstop.

it's been a couple of weeks since you first met her in the library, and since then, you've seen each other here and there, most of your communication being made through texts and calls, as you both have been extremely busy with final exams and work. barely getting any real time to spend together besides having lunch together or walking to class when the time allows it.

however, ever since you revealed to ellie your real name and gave her your personal phone number, she's been using it to her advantage — sending you money through applepay/paypal, paying for food to get delivered to your apartment when you tell her you haven't ate that day, or getting uber's or taxis to pick you up when she wasn't able to come get you herself.

she was very persistent in being your provider, insisting that with her income, she could support you full-time and buy you everything you needed and more.

but you didn't have it in you to just quit this hotline gig. you didn't want to feel like you had to rely on ellie, and the last thing you wanted was to burden her with your own issues.

thursday, 1:30am → incoming call from ellie (jackson, WY)

you: ellie...?

ellie: hi baby.

you: why are you calling the hotline? you have my number, silly.

ellie: what? can't check in on my girl?

you couldn't help the flush in your cheeks. ellie never failed to make you blush. she always made a point to flirt, hard, and you both weren't even in a relationship, yet.

you: what can i do for my favorite client?

ellie: hm, how does going out with me on saturday night sound?

you: like...a date?

ellie: yeah, don't you think we're a bit overdue for one?

you: sure! what should i wear?

ellie: 's up to you. you make anything look beautiful.

you hated how easily she made the heat rise to your cheeks.

ellie: are you blushing?

you: ....no.

ellie: liar. just for that, you owe me a kiss on our date.

you: hm, we'll see.

ellie: guess we will.

-

saturday couldn't have arrived any faster, and by the time you knew it, it was 6:00 in the evening, almost time for your first date with ellie.

you couldn't make up your mind on what to wear, trying on different outfit combinations, determining which one you think ellie would like more.

groaning in frustration, you seemingly settled on a baby blue dress, with a light and warm cardigan. the weather was absolutely perfect for this type of outfit, not too hot with just the slightest breeze.

as you touched up your makeup, swiping on your favorite gloss, you couldn't seem to calm the nerves boiling in your belly. what was there to be nervous about? you were going on a date with one of the coolest and prettiest girls you have ever seen in your life.

overthinking every possible worst-case scenario that could happen tonight, you took some deep breaths, shaking off the images of you possibly falling on your face, snorting while you laugh, or accidentally passing gas in front of ellie. oh god, if that were to happen tonight, you didn't think you could ever face her again.

you would have to change jobs. and schools.

"god, jesus, whoever, please have my back tonight," you whisper to yourself, suddenly jumping at the small 'ping' coming from your phone.

unlocking your phone, you see it's a text from ellie:

ellie <3: I'm on my way up baby, u ready?

you: yes! i'm ready hehe

you take the time to lace your shoes at the front door, giving yourself a quick one-over in the mirror to see if you were presentable, at the least.

two soft knocks on the door resonated through your apartment, and you took a deep breath as you unlocked the latch, mentally preparing yourself for tonight.

swinging the door open, you're greeted by the tall, emerald-eyed girl.

"hey, baby," she greets, leaning over to plant a kiss on your cheek, "you look gorgeous."

your eyes fell to the ground, cheeks flushing with crimson. get ahold of yourself. you're acting like a teenage girl with a puppy-love crush, you echoed in your mind.

"thanks, els. you look pretty cute too," you compliment shyly, looking down at her fit — a white shirt complimented with a red flannel and dark-washed jeans. of course, hair styled in her signature half-up ponytail and sporting her white and black converse sneakers.

"ready to go?"

"yeah, let's go ahead."

"cool, just parked over here in the parking lot."

taking hold of your hand, the two of you head out to the parking lot, and she takes the lead in guiding you to her car. her hands felt warm and clammy— and you wondered if ellie was feeling just as nervous as you were.

and she was.

ellie was freaking the fuck out. from the outside, you appeared calm and relaxed, which put her at unease. were you not excited to be going out with her? were you going to like what she planned for tonight? what if you absolutely hated the date she organized? it'd tear ellie's heart to pieces.

but ellie couldn't overthink, especially not right now. she couldn't let her emotions get the best of her, and she only had to think of the present — you.

ellie fished out her keys from her pocket, briefly letting go of your hand to unlock the car and open the passenger side door for you.

getting inside, you mumbled a quick 'thank you'. as ellie scurried to the driver's side of the car, you scanned your eyes around the interior of her car.

what the hell? was she driving a...dodge hellcat? you knew ellie drove, but you didn't know she drove such an expensive muscle car. how much money did she make being a dealer?

her car smelled just like her, fresh and musky, and she kept it fairly clean.

ellie piled in the driver's seat of her car, putting the key in the ignition and turned on the engine.

"soooo, where are we going?" you queried.

"that's a surprise," ellie smirks, and suddenly she places her hand behind the head of your seat, turning her neck to look at the rear windshield as she backed out of the parking spot.

you swallowed thickly, focused primarily on how hot she looked doing something as simple and elementary as reversing her car. the way her neck flexed, the way her arm tattoo looked by your face, and the way she was concentrated on moving the vehicle — suddenly turned the heat up in this confined space.

"you okay? you look a bit warm," ellie asks, interrupting your train of thought.

"huh? yeah, no, i-i'm okay," you smile meekly, "it's j-just a little warm in here."

"oh, sorry," her hands went to turn on the air conditioning, the gentle breeze of cool air providing relief, "there you go. better?"

you nod, "much better, thanks."

"wanna play some music?" she asks, holding her phone up.

"hmm, you can put whatever you want on. i wanna see what type of music you're into."

"okay," ellie says with a wide smile, "suit yourself."

approaching a stop light, ellie uses the window of opportunity to tap away on her phone, searching for her favorite song. the song 'the spins' by mac miller plays throughout the car at a mellow volume.

"great taste. i love this song," you chime.

"yeah? me too," ellie states, "i loved mac miller since like, forever."

eyes gravitating towards ellie, you couldn't help but get lost in a daze at the way she drives, the slight spread in her legs, one hand on the wheel, the stray strand of hair that falls in her face — she was dangerous.

and ellie could feel the burning gaze you were searing on the side of her face, "you okay there?"

"hmm?"

"you keep staring at me."

"oh— uh— i'm sorry. i didn't mean to—" you sputtered, ashamed that you'd been caught red-handed.

"it's fine, baby, no worries. just wanted to know if there was anything on your mind was all," ellie briefly tears her eyes away from the road to check on you.

you had to quickly think of an excuse, something to save you from this embarrassment — "just thinking of where we're going."

the girl chuckles, "well, we're already here."

the neon lights were the first thing that caught your attention, then the rapidly moving contraptions, and lastly the laughter from the crowds of people.

"we're at the carnival?!" you squealed, unable to contain your excitement.

"yea," ellie muttered sheepishly, "uh— i saw on your instagram how you shared the posts about wanting to go on your story, so i-"

you cut her off with a forceful hug, "oh my god! ellie! we have to get out now! let's go, let's go, let's go!!"

"alright, baby, let me put the car in park-" she began, but you were already halfway down the entrance.

-

"wow! ellie! that one was so fun! it was exhilarating!" you breathed out, fueled by the rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins after riding the 'slingshot' rollercoaster.

ellie couldn't be any more amused, smiling down at you, "yeah? you liked that one, babe?"

"yes! i loved it!" you squealed, but as the adrenaline wavered, you began to feel that familiar rumble in your stomach, "it did give me an appetite, though."

"wanna get a little something to eat?" ellie's hand is securely interlaced with yours, guiding you towards the various food stands.

you nod, "mhm, i am starved."

"just tell me what you want, and i'll get it for you, m'kay?" she gives you a smile and squeezes your hand as your eyes scan the numerous items to choose from.

corndogs. cotton candy. kettle corn. pretzels. chilli cheese hot dogs. funnel cake.

"hmmm, i think i want some funnel cake," you suggest, "we can share it."

"sounds good to me," ellie shrugs and you both fall in line. she orders and pays for the sweet treat and the worker hands her the food, as you find a vacant picnic table to sit at.

digging into the crispy, creamy treat, you couldn't hold back the moan of delight that came from your mouth.

"oh my god! this is amazing!" you moan, whip cream getting all over your lips.

ellie was too busy hyper-fixating on the cream that sat on your lip, and before thinking about anything else, she swiped it off your bottom lip with the pad of her thumb, bringing it to her lips and sucking it clean.

"mmm, delicious," she commented, then consumed the dessert as if nothing had happened.

leaving you stunned, you gulped the cup of water she gave you, attempting to soothe the heat seeping down below.

"so, which ride do you wanna get on next?" ellie spooned more of the funnel cake in her mouth, looking up at you, awaiting your response.

"not sure, why don't you choose? i picked the last one after all," you clean your spoon off, getting every last bit of leftover ice cream.

"we can ride theeee..." ellie scours the carnival rides, "...the haunted hospital."

your heart fell to your stomach, you hated anything related to horror.

"oh no..ellie, i don't think i'll be able to ride that—"

"are you scared?" she taunts in a playful tone.

"yes. i'd be covering my eyes the entire time, el."

"good thing you have me with you, i'll fight anyone who gets too close to you. promise."

"fine."

when you both finish the funnel cake, you quickly discard it and ellie rushes you over to the line to the haunted attraction, but as the line goes by quicker than you anticipated, the fear began to set in deeper and deeper.

"ellie, i'm scared," you whisper as you both approach the front of the line, watching the people in front of you climb into the little mechanical car and disappear into the darkness.

"hey, i'm here, baby," she coos, rubbing your back, "besides, it's all fake, okay? 's not real."

and on cue, the attendant calls you both up, "next!"

walking slowly towards the black cart, you get on first and take a seat, with ellie following closely behind you.

"alright, hands up," the attendant commands as the handlebars latch down and lock onto your lap, "keep your hands and feet in the cart at all times. have fun."

as the cart begins to move forward and ascend into blackness, you curl into ellie's body and her arm instinctively wraps around your body, holding you tight.

this is exactly where ellie wanted you, up close and personal. she wanted an excuse to hold you all night, and after seeing the 'haunted hospital' sign, she knew this ride was the perfect place to do that.

your heart was pumping in and out of your chest, preparing for the worse to pop out and jump-scare you.

"ugh, i can't look," you stammer, covering your eyes. ellie takes hold of your wrists, gently taking them away from your face.

"hey, just focus on me, okay?" ellie whispers, her hot breath fanning in your face, "it's just me and you."

"o-okay."

and the fear that took habitat in your belly faded away, your mind zeroed in on ellie and how close she was to you. if you even breathed too hard, you probably would’ve accidentally kissed her.

but luckily for you, ellie was five steps ahead.

she reached her hand out to cup your cheek, resting it on the soft, warm skin of your face.

"can i kiss you?" ellie asked, her mouth taking over her brain, but she didn't mind it. she wanted to kiss you. she's been wanting to kiss you ever since she heard your voice that night she accidentally called you.

“please. please, kiss me.”

leaning in, ellie pressed her lips on yours, her other hand snaking around your waist, pulling you in closer. her lips were soft and inviting, and they tasted sweet — they were definitely a good distraction from the horror props popping out at different intervals. 

her lips leave subtle pecks along your lips, enamored by how your lips tasted, and how it left her wanting more. 

ellie pulls away, inciting a small whimper from you, “the ride’s about to end, babe.” 

“hmph, okay,” you pout and ellie pecks your lips again.

“we’ll have plenty of time to continue later,” she reassures you with a laugh. as the both of you emerge into the light, back to the entrance of the attraction, you notice your lipgloss smeared all over her lips, eliciting a small giggle from you.

“what’s so funny?” 

you point to her lips, and her eyes dart down to her face, using her sleeves to wipe off the pink gloss from her mouth as you both get off the ride. 

you smile sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you both stroll around the carnival, “sorry, that was my fault.”

ellie smiles and shakes her head, “don’t worry ‘bout it,” she says coolly, “hey, let’s go over there. there’s no line.” 

pointing to an attraction behind you, you turn around and follow her trail, your eyes settling on the ferris wheel.

hand in hand, you both get on the little capsule of the ferris wheel, the employee holding it sturdy so you and ellie would have time to climb in. 

they latched the door closed and you both begin the slow, upward descent. 

“wow, the view is beautiful,” you breathe out, astounded by how pretty the lights looked in the city as you towered over the area below. 

“yeah, the view certainly is beautiful, huh?” ellie murmured, but she wasn’t staring at the view. her eyes were on you, taking in how breathtaking you looked in this moment — eyes glimmering in amusement, perfect, plump lips slightly parted, and hair a bit messy from the breeze, but framing your face in all the right places. she took her phone out, snapping a quick picture, never wanting to forget this moment. 

she moved seats, before, sitting on the bench facing you, and now sitting right beside you. 

“uh, there’s something i have to tell you,” ellie began, her nerves shocking every cell in her body.

“yea? what is it?” you ask, turning to face her, “is everything okay?”

“yeah, yeah, i just—” ellie bit her lip nervously, “i just really like you. like, i think about you all the time. when i first heard your voice that night i dialed you, i just knew i had to talk to you again. there’s just something about you that always brings me back and— fuck, i never thought i’d find myself catching feelings so hard for a girl before.” 

your cheeks were hurting from how wide your smile was, but you didn’t care. ellie put her arm around your shoulder and held your hand with her free one, leaning in closer.

“what i’m trying to say is that— i really, really want to be with you. i want to be the one who you tell the weird stories about your clients to and i want to be the one to take care of you after a long day at class. i want to be the one who protects you and who you share your favorite meal with. i just— i really want you to be my girlfriend,” and before ellie continues any further, you cut her off with a kiss.

“if this is your way of asking me to be your girlfriend, the answer is yes, ellie williams,” you answer, briefly pulling away for air. 

ellie’s smile grows wider, “cool,” she quirks before connecting your lips again. 

- 

the sun was long gone and the moon had taken over the night sky. but your date with ellie was far from over. 

after spending an evening filled with thrill rides and greasy, fried snacks, you and ellie both decided to calm things down by taking a walk along the boardwalk, occasionally strolling up and down the pier.

“would you say this has been a good date so far?” ellie’s eyes flitter toward you, her arm slung over your shoulder as you stride down the various closed stores and restaurants of the boardwalk. it was empty, only one or two people passing by, but other than that it was only you two. 

“mmm, i’d give it a…six out of ten,” you tease, gaining a scoff from your new girlfriend. 

“a six? seriously?” she shakes her head, “damn, not the response i was hoping for.” 

“i’m just kidding, els,” you giggle, “this date has been amazing. i loved every bit of it. thank you.”

you lean over and press a small kiss on her cheek, watching how the vermilion scatters across her freckles.

“now that’s more like it.” ellie laughs, continuing the promenade forward, with no destination in mind.

your eyes settle on this small, old-fashioned photo booth tucked away in a corner of the boardwalk. the sign above it flashing ‘PHOTOS: 4 different poses’. it was the perfect idea to end the night and have a little souvenir to remember your first date.

you let go of her hand, dashing towards the photo booth, ellie confusedly following after you. you open your bag, searching for some change, and you insert four quarters into the small coin slot. 

“let's go inside,” you enthuse, excited to try out the photo booth.

ellie went inside first, taking a seat on the extremely small bench, barely leaving any space for you to sit beside her. the booth was such a tight enclosure, only allowing enough space for a maximum of two people. 

“i— uh— don’t know where to—” you stammer, but she interrupts you as she grabs your hips, sitting you down on her right thigh.

warmth rose to your face, feeling secure and sturdy sat upon her leg. ellie closed the black curtain, covering the entrance and blocking any light that would shine through. 

“okay, we have three minutes and four poses,” you say, turning your neck to look down at her, “what should our poses be?”

“i dunno, i’m sure we’ll look great doing any. we can jus’ do them as we go along,” ellie shrugged, and the photo booth began to count down from five.

sitting up straight in her lap and fixing your hair, you and ellie put on a smile, and the light flashes white, signaling the end of the first pose.

for the second pose, you turn your head and plant your lips on ellie’s cheek as ellie scrunches her nose up, and the flash lights up for a second time.

for the third pose, you loop your arm over ellie’s shoulder, and you both look each other in with adoring eyes and loving smiles — flash.

you both couldn’t even bother getting ready for the final pose, too lost in each other’s admiring gazes to think properly. you were focused on the jade green of ellie’s eyes, wishing you could jump in and swim in the pools of emerald. ellie was hooked on your face, and memorizing every detail like her life depended on it — tracing her eyes over your pouty lips. 

and as the countdown went to one, ellie smashed her lips onto yours, her arms tightening around your waist to pull you closer. this kiss was different from the ones from before — there was urgency, there was eagerness, there was a burning passion, one you’ve never experienced before. 

her tongue shoves into your mouth, tasting the mint you’ve chewed previously. immodest and perhaps, pornographic wet sounds from your mouths resonate throughout the small photobooth. one of her hands trail from your hips towards your tits, groping the soft, pillowy flesh underneath your baby blue dress, eliciting the faintest of whimpers — a sound ellie has been dying to hear again.

you couldn’t help the arousal building up in your core, compelling you to grind your crotch against the denim fabric of her jeans. 

“e-ellie, i— i’ve never—” you struggle to let out, pulling away from her lips, a trail of spit lingering on your bottom lip, and her lips plant sloppy, wet kisses along the side of your neck. 

“we can stop if you want, sweet girl,” she murmurs against your skin, and you quickly shake your head.

“n-no, don’t stop, p-please,” you gulp and with your approval, ellie’s other hand goes down to hike your dress up, bunching the fabric up around your waist. her hands push your legs apart, and she lifts one of your thighs up to rest on the wall of the photo booth. you were exposed, the only thing concealing your bare, pussy was the thin fabric of your panties.

she sat back against the corner of the booth, leaning against the wall and allowing you space to lean against her body as well. her hand cupped your panty-covered crotch, rubbing against it.

the sudden friction made you jolt, your breath picking up, “b-but what if— what if someone hears us? or—or sees us?”

“then you better keep it down, pup.”

ellie’s hand slips inside your panties, her index finger sliding between the warmth of your folds, drowning in the wet, hot juices leaking out from you, “fuck.”

you let out a pitiful whine, needing more pressure, craving satisfaction. the nights after that call with ellie, your own fingers no longer sufficed the needs your body demanded. you tried so hard to replicate the same feeling ellie gave you that late evening, but there was no avail as you realized the only person who can truly serve your body correctly was ellie. 

“p-please, more,” you begged, hoping she would show you mercy and give you what you wanted.

“please, what? huh? use your fuckin’ manners,” she snides in your ear, breath fanning against your neck. you immediately knew what she was inferring.

“please, daddy, please. i want more,” you bucked your hips up to her hands, and she happily obliged. two of ellie’s fingers made their way to your throbbing and swollen clit, applying pressure as her digits created circles. 

you couldn’t suppress the moan that emerged from your throat, clamping a hand shut over your mouth, careful not to alert any strangers nearby, knowing people would still be able to hear despite the thin, black curtain covering the photo booth.

“you look s’ fuckin’ pretty,” ellie whispers against your neck, and her hand grabs your jaw, turning your head to look at her as she smushes her lips against your swollen, red lips. 

a stream of melodious moans vibrated against ellie’s mouth, and she was drinking it in, savoring the sound of you against her lips. the way ellie’s tongue fucked your mouth felt ungodly, and almost immoral. someone who harbors the power to make you feel how you do is something close to the devil, as pleasure this wonderful was sinful.

her fingers disappear from your clit, leaving you feeling empty. 

“open.” ellie orders and you part your lips. she pushes her fingers in your mouth, and you suck them clean, your tongue lapping the salty juices like a puppy desperate for water on a hot day.

“such a good fuckin’ girl, shiiit,” ellie praises, slipping her fingers in your pussy, continuing the circles on your hardened clit.

“you know what good girls like you get? huh?” ellie’s fingers pick up speed, “they get to cum. you wanna cum for daddy, baby?”

unable to think of any response, you nod your head up and down. 

“use your words, pup.”

“yes, daddy. puppy wants to cum,” you whine out. that was enough for ellie to give you what you wanted. one hand rubbing circles your clit, her other hand pushes your panties to the side and inserts one finger in your leaking hole, gently sliding it in and out.

“ellie!” you cry out, astounded by the added pressure. her finger was long and filled you up almost, completely. 

“gotta stretch you out, baby. get you ready for my cock,” ellie smirks as she slowly adds in another finger, still maintaining her slow, neutral pace. 

your pussy clenches around her fingers, and you scrambled around to grab ahold of anything you can get your hands on. you were drunk on ellie, the way she talks to you — almost condescending — combined with how she had you writhing under her fingers. you were unequivocally hers. you were ellie’s.

she added a third finger to your clit, applying more pressure on your sensitive clit, and her fingers began to pump faster inside your pussy, coating it in a thick, creamy layer of your juices.

“god, you’re such a pretty fuckin’ girl,” ellie kisses the side of your neck, “look at you, making a mess all over my hands, like a filthy pup.”

all your mouth would utter was these weak, pathetic whimpers and moans, fucked out dumb and stupid. you don’t even think you could remember your name right now. 

the familiar feeling of your orgasm coming undone begins to rise, accompanied by a new pressure you feel in your abdomen — the urge to push. 

“daddy, think m’ gonna— p—pee,” you stammer, not wanting to embarrass yourself and closing your legs, “it feels like i have to—”

“baby, let it happen. promise it’s not piss or anything,” ellie reassured, figuring this was your first time squirting. “just let go, sweet girl.”

the sweet sounds of your wet pussy echoed throughout the confined spaces of the booth, just how ellie liked it. it was music to her ears. 

the feeling of your walls tightening around her fingers told her that you were just right on the edge, and she was going to give you that push to fall over and come undone all over her hands.

the pad of ellie’s fingers massaged figure eights on your pussy, almost tracing infinity signs on your clit. her fingers found rhythm and continued thrusting her index and middle fingers inside you, curling up to rub the flesh of your walls, hitting just the right spot and emitting an angelic moan from you. 

ellie was in heaven and she had this honey-sweet angel melting under her touch. 

you squirmed in her lap, your back instinctively arching, about to come apart in this small photo booth.

“daddy, i’m about to— can i? can i cum? pretty please?” you cried out, almost pleading, like you were begging for your life, but you felt like you were going to simply die if you didn’t finish right now. 

“yes, pretty baby, cum all over me,” ellie coaxes you through your orgasm, “make a fuckin’ mess, puppy.”

you came undone, falling apart right there. your pussy clamped around her fingers, a stream of milky-white cream trickling onto her hands. your body overcame your thoughts, and you pushed out — releasing a gush of watery, squirt all over the place. spurting out, imitating a fountain.

ellie pulled her hands out of you, and brought them to her mouth, sucking and licking them clean. still coming down from the high that was your orgasm, your breaths came out heavy and unlabored, a tear falling down out of the corner of your eye and streaming down your cheek. 

“you alright, babe?” ellie asked, fixing your panties and pulling your dress down.

“y-yea, i’m okay,” you stutter, standing up and exiting the photo booth, finding the boardwalk still deserted. legs still shaking, you trip over your own feet and lean on the walls of the booth for support. ellie took hold of your waist, ensuring you don’t fall.

“hey, look, our picture,” she points out, taking the strip out from the slot and showing the black and white photo to you. 

ellie smiles at the strip, “we look good, huh?”

you nod, still simmering down. ellie takes notice of your state and plants a kiss to your lips, rubbing your waist soothingly. 

“how ‘bout we get outta here and get some real food? sound good, baby?”

you nod, smiling, “sounds perfect.”

🫶🏼

[nnight-dances]

CHERRY-FLAVOURED

PAIRING: choi seungcheol x f!reader (ft. kwon soonyoung & kim mingyu)

GENRE: fluff, angst

TROPES: small town au!, exes to lovers, jealousy, idiots in love, fake dating (w/ soonyoung), you own a small bookstore and i never mention what seungcheol does (but just know he's rich).

RECOMMENDED: reading ADORABLY, YOURS before this, since this is the same seungcheol and i make a few references to what happened there.

"Oh, did you hear? Seungcheol's back in town!" Nayeon calls out with a lopsided smile she thinks is inconspicuous. You think it's obnoxious. 

But you don't let her know how much the news bothers you, pretending to instead by absorbed in currently trying to get your hair to sit right in a ponytail. "Sure," you reply, not breaking eye-contact with yourself in the mirror. 

Your roommate quickly catches though because she appears by your shoulder in the mirror, eyes narrowing. "Right. And you're fine with it?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" you mutter, devoting every fibre of your being to make your tone stay flat.

"I don't know, the way you've been working on this ponytail for the past fifteen minutes had me thinking otherwise," she shrugs, "And the fact that it still looks like shit from the back."

You scoff in offense, "All my baby hair makes it real hard to do this, okay!" But Nayeon's already making her way back to the kitchen to finish her breakfast with a teasing giggle and you watch her in dismay, wondering if not only your hairstyle but also your acting had really been that bad.

And as you spin around to face your reflection, you figure that the general bad-ness of your life might have something to with Seungcheol's return to town after all. Not that you would ever admit it, for many reasons. But mainly because of the fact that he's your ex-boyfriend. 

You liked to think you'd ended things with him on a good note– there hadn't been too many tears or screams and you still would catch up with him whenever you ran into him, an occurrence that was basically inevitable given how small your town was. But ever since he'd left on trip to visit his much-famed best friend, Jeonghan, you'd finally gotten around to thinking about why you were still single despite having left a long-term relationship for over a month.  

…Which led to a series of messy first dates with the few tolerable men in town who would otherwise have you cringing at the thought of talking to them. And well, actually going out with them convinced you your first impressions were always right and your intuition was all-knowing. 

– 

Meet Soonyoung, the man who would almost unmistakably come around asking for gum in your store. Your bookstore. 

You couldn't figure out if it was a honest fault of his personality or if he was doing it to annoy you– until one afternoon you found it was something much worse: he was flirting with you.

"Y/N, your hair looks cute today," he's telling you through a grin right now. You look away from the computer screen where you've been logging the new stock of books in, ready to tell him thanks and that you needed to hear that since your beloved roomate insulted you this morning. You don't get around to saying all that because you spot a figure entering the store behind Soonyoung, where he's leaning on the counter with his hands under his chin. He thinks he's slick but you know it's so he can show off his arms. 

You've forgotten all about Hoshi and his boyish charms because you notice the new customer is none other than the recent arrival to town, Seungcheol. 

You hate the way you can feel your heart skip a beat at the revelation so you quickly turn your head back to your screen. "Thanks, Soonyoung."

Thankfully, Hoshi doesn't seem to notice the stiffness of your clipped response and instead is distracted by a stack of plastic-wrapped books. 

"Wow, you sure have a lot of new stock coming in these days, huh?" 

You nod, still not looking away from the screen. "Yeah, I've been working on keep the shelves up to date with the new releases. I'm sick of people using the feedback box to curse me out for still placing the classics out front."

You hear a snort then and you immediately recognize it as not Soonyoung's. 

"You'd think that's how the feedback works, no?" 

Slowly you turn to look at him in the eyes, unsettled by the playful glint you find there. "...Can I help you?" you ask quietly, keeping your tone cordial but not too warm. Hoshi stands up straight with Seungcheol next to him, earning him a glance from the man. 

"Oh, did you finally hire a part-timer?" he asks. You consider throwing the stack of new books in your ex's face. And then you remember how much they cost. So instead, you settle on shaking your head. 

"No–" Hoshi cuts you off, though, much to your chagrin. 

"No, I'm just here giving Y/N company," he's saying and you really wish he wouldn't speak, but he goes on, "She's been pretty stressed out these days and last week–"

"Soonyoung," you look at him warningly, "do you think you could help me double-check if there's a delivery out front? I keep getting tracking updates that it's close."

"Of course!" he responds already reaching for the glass doors, "Be right back, Y/N!"

With Soonyoung gone, Seungcheol finally breaks into the guffaw you know he's been keeping in for the past five minutes. "What's that all about?"

"It's none of your business, Seungcheol," you inform him as you busy yourself with tidying up the stray pieces of gum wrapper Soonyoung had conveniently forgotten. 

"Oh, so you do remember who I am, after all?" You hate how much you like listening his voice turn slighly soft at the sound of his name on your lips. And the how your breath's a little uneven when he slides to invade your line of vision, big hands tapping at the counter to get your attention. As if you could possibly be thinking about anything else right now. 

"Why are you here, anyway?" you ask him, training your gaze on him. "Because I know, for a fact, you don't read." 

"I'm hurt, Y/N," Seungcheol gasps with a hand to his chest. His unbelievably firm chest. "And after I worked so hard to read that boring poem book for you?"

You almost seethe at the way he calls it a poem book but contain it with a grimace. "Can we get to the point here? I have a store to run, dude."

"I'm serious! I came here to find a book. Considering picking that poem book again, figure out what the big deal is for once and for all."

You stay still, unresponsive to his ridiculous excuse. Seungcheol waits a few beats, eyes locked with yours before giving in. "Fine. I was in town and wanted to see how you were doing." 

Never mind, you think you preferred to hear the ridiculous lies because the way your ex-boyfriend's gaze drops to your fists by your side has you immediately unfolding your grasp. Stupid Seungcheol and his ability to fuck up a perfectly okay daily routine. 

"Ugh," you sigh out after a moment, "Come on. I'll help you find the chapbook. But you have to promise to never call it a poem book ever again. Or I'm blacklisting you." 

You don't see it but when you spin around to march into the bookstore, expecting Seungcheol to follow you, he's all smiles, his own fists unravelling at the way your tone lost its cold somewhere along the way of this encounter. He skips behind you with a noise of excitement. 

"Okayyyy," you hum as you crouch by the poetry section, fingers expertly running through the spines of the thin books there. Seungcheol crouches by you, a little too close because his arm brushes against you, almost throwing you off-balance. 

You're about to tell him off for surprising you but he suddenly smiles, dimples so delicious in the soft glow of the light of the bookstore filtering through the bookshelves. "Your hair looks different," he comments, voice low and his gaze slowly follows the trail of your low ponytail, the thin grey band that holds the strands together clearly very worn-out. "Looks pretty." 

And where Seungcheol's wondering when you started wearing your hair up, you're incredibly flustered by his compliment. You stand up too quick, knee joints popping, and you think you must really be growing old when your vision blacks out a little. 

You steady yourself with a hand on the shelf, quietly scolding Seungcheol, "You're in the way." He joins you on his feet, making way with an exaggerated wave of his arm, not missing the way your ears are turning redder by the second.

You're gifted a good solid five minutes of peace as you inspect the shelves, wondering how you lost track of the chapbook, when Seungcheol speaks up again. "Um, so seriously, what's the deal with you and Soonyoung? You… seeing him?" 

For all his attempts at maintaining an air of nonchalance, Seungcheol can't help how irked he was when he walked into your bookstore to the sight of Soonyoung making conversation to you. Irksome especially more so because he'd heard you say that you hated having people around you while you did the boring but imperative computer-related stuff at work, something about wanting to get the misery out of the way as soon as possible. Yet, there Soonyoung had been, distracting you with all his airhead being. 

"I can't seem to locate the book right now for some reason," you start, doing nothing to ease Seungcheol's worries, "And I also can't seem to comprehend why my dating life is a point of discussion between us… anymore."

And wow, does your comment hurt. It hurts Seungcheol but also you, even as you're the one saying it because you can practically feel his mood dampening at your words. But the rational part of you is praising you for doing the right thing and setting your boundaries before you get any more carried away by your ex-boyfriend's ways. 

That afternoon Seungcheol leaves your bookstore, very empty-handed and extremely heart-broken, because as he exits, he can already hear Soonyoung asking if you wanted get lunch with him. 

– 

Speaking of lunch, enter Mingyu because eating out with someone, more often than not, meant making a trip to his humble but bustling restaurant. It was everything right with your small town: a simple menu that remained consistently mind-blowing no matter how many times you visited.

Wish you could say your friendship with Mingyu had maintained the same level of consistency as his culinary competence. 

And in your defense, you didn't know how much longer you could've gone ignoring the way Mingyu would take every opportunity to make you extra sides that you didn't order and send you specially curated handmade dinner-sets when he heard you were sick or too busy to eat. You hated it, crossing the friendzone you had so carefully placed him in, but one late night, when he showed up at your door in the rain just so he could deliver your food before it went cold, you caved and invited him in. 

So while you legally have no choice but to politely turn down Soonyoung's offer for lunch, you can't help that you find yourself walking to Mingyu's Kitchen on Saturday morning for some brunch because as much as you loved improvising with the two ingredients in your fridge, nothing beat the ramyeon he cooks. 

You're still groggy when you enter the cozy shop but the familiar scent iss already warming you up from the chilly air outside. Except you make eye-contact with the man as you step foot into the place. 

The man being Seungcheol, of course, because where you could handle fielding Mingyu's puppy eyes on you, a reminder that you hadn't texted him back yet– Seungcheol's intense glare fixed on you has you shaking in your boots. Literally. 

"...actually, I think I'll just eat here," you hear him call out as you approach the counter to place your order. Your head hurts already so you don't think too hard about Seungcheol's request to Sakura who nods with a smile. 

"Y/N!" Mingyu materializes in front of you with a beam to greet you and you think sunglasses might've been the way to go this morning. 

"Hey," you drag out the greeting, flinching at your own hoarse voice, "What's up, Gyu?"

"Nothin' much, just dealing with the usual Saturday morning rush, y'know? Maroon 5 should write a song about that instead of crying over Sunday mornings, don't you think?"

You're busy processing the tall man's chaotic train of thoughts when you hear Seungcheol laughing faintly. You glance at him, frowning when he's standing closer to you than you remember and then look back at Mingyu. "Ha, sorry it's so busy," you mumble.

"You don't sound so good. Did you catch something?" Mingyu inquires, brows furrowing and you genuinely love the man for his observance but dread its consequences nevertheless.

"Ahh, I mean, it's fine. Just a little cold from the wind," you clear your throat in an effort to sound better, "But I'll have a ramyeon for that very reason." You try to punctuate your sentence with a light-hearted chuckle but with your condition, it just kind of sounds like you're dying so you shut yourself up. 

"Feeling under the weather?" 

You look up from your phone screen, where you've been fixating all your attention so you can ignore the way Seungcheol's seated himself on the table right next to yours. This was the problem with eating out alone. The danger of your ex-boyfriend tailing you. You swear you're dragging Nayeon out after you next time, her fucked-up sleep schedule be damned. 

You shrug in response to his question, "I'm fine. Thanks for the concern."

"You're very welcome," comes his teasing reply, "But seriously, you've got to wear more layers than that if you want to make it to winter."

You look down at your long-sleeved top with a frown, "I think this attire is perfectly appropriate for the fall, actually." You tug at the sleeves so they cover your wrists as if to prove a point. 

Seungcheol raises a brow, "It would be a perfectly appropriate attire for someone who doesn't have the immune system of a rat."

Gasping, you shoot back, "Rude! I don't see why I have to stand this slander even when we're not together."

There it is. The words slip out your tongue before you have a minute to filter your thoughts and though things between you and Seungcheol are more chill than most former lovers, your sudden comment has the atmosphere turn ever so awkward, with his smile falling and your own turning sour. 

You sigh in relief when Sakura brings out a tray to Seungcheol's table that very moment, saving you just a little embarassment. "Enjoy your meal!" she smiles at him and then at you, "Your food will be out soon!" 

You nod, swallowing against your dry throat and watch as Seungcheol stares at his food wordlessly. You really had a way with words for someone who sold books for a living. Eventually, you go back to distracting yourself with your phone and he starts eating, suddenly laser-focused on his food. 

You're thankful for the space, until you see Mingyu making his way to your table with your tray in his hands. You don't know why he does that, bringing you your food despite being the head chef and owner of the place. Well, you do know why but you didn't have the energy to deal with the reasons today. 

Not with Seungcheol sitting right there, eyes on Mingyu's back as he places your food in front of you, grin intact. You're about to thank the man and hopefully, cut any conversation short but he beats you to it. 

"Here's your food, Y/N!" his voice borders on cracking but he goes on, "I made you some yuja-cha as well for your throat. And make sure you eat a lot of kimchi, okay? Let me know if you need anything else."

Slowly you nod, thanking him under your breath as he takes off and now it's your turn to stare at your food in silence while Seungcheol's shooting daggers your way. 

If he thought he was upset by your thing with Soonyoung, the way Mingyu was just all up in your space with his stupidly sweet gestures has Seungcheol… a lot more upset. 

"I thought Mingyu and you were just friends," he's voicing before he can help it. 

Your head snaps up in surprise but really, you should've seen this coming. You compose yourself, averting your eyes back to the warm food in your plate. "And I thought I made it clear that my dating life is none of your business."

"It's not my business," Seungcheol says, unconvincing to his own hears, "But it would be a problem if you were, you know, two-timing." 

Now you know Seungcheol is trying to get on your nerves because he knows how much you hate dishonesty and to accuse you of being disloyal is a low blow, really. But it works because you finally look back at him with eyes wide, "Of course I'm not. I slept with him like once!"

Where the news has Seungcheol feeling conflicted because where it was good to know that nothing was serious, it was also not fun to hear that you'd slept with him. But while he tried hard to not dwell on Mingyu's impressive physique, you were busy catching up with your own loss of control.

Because even despite your unintended confession that you hope you weren't too loud about, you quickly supply in a quiet voice, "...well, it was technically a date that led to sleeping– but it had nothing to do with Soonyoung— I don't even know why I'm telling you this!" 

You spend the rest of your brunch focusing on finishing your food and appropriately thanking Mingyu for the food, a little apologetic for many many reasons, so you can leave the same room as your ex-boyfriend faster. 

But he makes it real hard, because just as you step out of the restaurant and take a deep breath of the fresh September air to settle your nerves, you hear his voice calling you out. You stuff your hands into the pockets of your pants to brace yourself as you turn around, already starting to say something about how he needs to leave you alone and forget you said anything. 

"You left your phone behind!" he cuts you off, holding out the device for you to see. You curse under your breath, feeling incredibly ridiculous as you reach for it. 

"Thanks–"

And then he dodges your grasp, leaving you flailing around like an idiot while he looks on with an amused half-smile. Half a smile because he knows you would kill him and then yourself if he straight-out laughed at you. 

"I'll give it back if you unblock me."

Your shoulders slump and a groan leaves your lungs. "Seungcheol."

But his smile only widens because you may be glaring at him but you did just say his name. And a win is a win. 

"Seriously? You're holding my phone hostage just so you can blackmail me over something so petty? Come on!" 

"I'm sorry, do you know how many seal memes you've been missing out on since you blocked me? This is no laughing matter."

"I'm not the one laughing," you snap and then cross your arms in exasperation, "Don't be a child, dude, and just give me my phone."

"Why did you block me anyway?"

You raise your brows at him as if to say really? but he maintains his smile and you groan again. You hate him for knowing that you hadn't blocked him right after the breakup thanks to someone's insistence on thinking seal memes were funny and that the real resaon you'd blocked him was–

"–Siri kept recommending your contact every single time I would go to make a phone call! Heck, I couldn't even text Nayeon to get me a towel in the shower because the messages app would automatically redirect to you."

Seungcheol watches in awe as he connects the dots in his head and mutters, "You still had me saved as kkmua's dad?" You look away but your silence is enough of an answer. 

It doesn't take a genius to figure out that the reason your phone confused Seungcheol with Nayeon because he was kkuma's dad and she was kookeu's mom– an idea a drunk you had found incredibly hilarous. The similarity in their spelling had your algorithm all fooled every time you typed in one or the other's name in a rush. Still, you wish Seungcheol was a little dumber sometimes. 

Now as you look at Seungcheol you can see he's thinking of something. Most likely considering the question: Why didn't you change it? 

"I was too lazy to change it back, okay? Blocking you was obviously the easier choice."

"I didn't say anything," he tells you with an easy smile, clearly pleased to see you flushed. "For what it's worth, you're still promising young woman in my contacts. And I didn't even have to block you."

It's probably because you've seen Seungcheol so much more than the past two months in the past two days, but you find yourself moved by his words. They're not that meaningful really, he's just bringing up a past inside joke in that reassuring tone of his. But you can't help but smile. 

"I hate you," you breathe out and in the context of the conversation, it makes enough sense. But Seungcheol's dimples deepen because in the context of your history with him, the words are a consolation. 

He only becomes certain of it later that night when he's washed up and throws himself into his sheets to find his phone lighting up in the darkness. It's you. 

promising young woman sent you a link 

promising young woman: rats actually have a great immune system so joke's on u 

And that's all it takes for Seungcheol to go back to his lovesick self, squeaking into his pillow as he reads your text over and over until he can comprehend that not only have you unblocked him of your own accord (debatable) but were also texting him first. 

– 

The next time you run into Seungcheol, it really brings his contact name to life. But before that, enter Soobin, a shy blonde who's recently moved to the town. 

"You like Lamp, huh?" 

Soobin jumps around, eyes flailing around as if you'd caught him red-handed. And you might as well have, what with how he'd been humming and swaying to the music leaking out of the speakers in your bookstore. You'd enjoyed watching the younger man visit the store more frequently the past few weeks, always in the evening hours when you would finally break open your playlists, a luxury you only allowed near closing time. 

"Ha," he nervous laughs, "Y-Yeah… Sorry, I didn't think you were still here."

"I run the place, Soobin. It'd be a bit of a problem if I just took off." You smile at his flustered sigh and move past him to shelf a book you'd taken out to review earlier. "Anyway, we're closing soon. You buying anything today or…?" 

Soobin looks at the thick book in his hands and you recognize it as a new arrival but then he flips it around, a little unsure. "Umm, I'm not– this seems cool but also scary so probably not?"

"I'll take it off your hands then?" you offer with an understanding shrug. But he shakes his head eagerly, "No, no, don't worry. I remember where I took this from. I don't want to get in your way."

"...All right," you reply after a pause. Then, brushing your hands against your pants, "Let me know if you need help, anyway." 

But Soobin's far from one to bother you as he leaves wordleslly, not without assisting you relocate some heavy boxes to the store before you lock up for the day. You're calling out goodbye after him as he takes off into the night when you hear soft barks closing in on you, 

For a beat, you freeze because the sound is excruciatingly nostalgic and you genuinely think you must've time travelled when you turn around to see Seungcheol running toward you with a very excited Kkuma leading the way. You're already dropping to a squat when the dog scurries to your feet, licking at your ankle before you get your hands on her.

You let out an undignified coo at the white ball of fur, "Kkuma, my baby. Aww, baby, you're so sweet. Look at you!" You go on for a little bit, fussing over her as she rolls over for some belly rubs before you come to and become aware of the way Seungcheol stands by, patiently watching. 

You slowly rise to your feet with an awkward smile. 

"I'm convinced she still loves you more than me," the man starts with a pout, "And it's still so unfair. Kkuma, I'm your dad. I pay for your meals and grooming, you know?"

You laugh at the way he scolds his dog in a small voice as you retort, "Maybe she's in her rebellious years. Let her be."

Seungcheol's soft gaze lands on you with a huffed chuckle. And then he looks at something behind you. "Who was that, by the way? New conquest?"

You throw your hands up in the air. "Come on, man. You can't keep doing this!"

"Doing what?"

"Snooping around in my business! And also making me sound like some kind of a player." 

Seungcheol looks down like he's reflecting. Kkuma paws at his leg with a whine and you look between them before letting out a cough.

"That was Soobin. If you must know." You look away as you say this, like it was no big deal, reporting on your customers to your ex-boyfriend because he still got all whiny when he saw you with another man. Neither of you is ready to address the meaning of your actions toward each other quite yet. So you both pretend it's normal when Seungcheol lights up a little when you speak up. 

"Soobin…? Haven't hear that name before."

"Yeah, he moved in a few weeks ago. Shy guy but very smart," you say, "And I think he wants to work part-time at the bookstore." 

"Woah," Seungcheol's ears perk up, "That's great, Y/N! You could totally use the help."

You turn to face him, arms crossed yet again, with a suspecting look on your face. "Hmm, I guess you could say that. I haven't popped the question yet though so don't go around spreading rumors." 

"Aww, you know I would never snitch on you like that! Unless he makes a move on you, of course, because that would be a very different story–"

"Seungcheol." 

Nice. That would be three points to Seungcheol if he was keeping count of how many times you'd said in his name in that grave voice of yours, indicating that you were mad but also couldn't cover up the laughter that bled into your tone anyway. And he was. 

– 

"What about you? You were gone a while."

Seungcheol counts his blessings every minute you spend with him, even if a lot of it was you pushing him away. But you couldn't stay consistent with your cold demeanour for much longer, not with him making sure he ran into you just as you closed your store. With Kkuma scurrying for love and his innocent blush whenever you greeted him, it wasn't long before you were letting your walls down. 

So it's no surprise that you find yourself curious of what he'd been upto in the month-long visit he'd paid to his best friend. 

Initially, Seungcheol's giddy ove your question, like you were on a first date all over again and not just walking along the dim grass fields like you so often did. "You know how it is with Jeonghannie. I meant to be there for a week but… one thing led to another and I was there for a while."

You fall silent, trying to imagine what it must've been like for him. "He still lives near that college, doesn't he?"

"Yeah. He's a strange fellow."

"Not that strange. College towns are like cities," you chuckle, "but with less crime and cranky people."

"I don't know, college students are pretty cranky too. Maybe even worse than the average city person." You raise a brow at Seungcheol's grimace.

"What, did Jeonghan force you to fraternize with college kids or what?"

Okay, now Seungcheol's getting a little worried when he realizes where this is going. And even though everything's in the past for him, he can't help but hesitate to tell you what exactly he'd been up to.

"...Yeah, I mean, most of his friends are college seniors. He knows them from his time there so it's pretty chill."

A few more questions from you have Seungcheol pulling out his phone to supply you with some visuals for some of the events he's mentioning and the way you softly laugh into his shoulder at the sight of the chaotic night parties has him getting a little careless. 

"Wait, wait, who was that?" you stop Seungcheol's now excited swiping with a cold hand to his forearm. He freezes, more because he realizes what you're trying to see than the temperature of your body against his. 

"Um, oh–" he watches dumbly as you go back a few photos to a selfie of him and a girl. They're grinning in the photo, teeth on display and cheeks clearly red from intoxication. 

"Ohh, is she one of his college friends? She's cute–" You interrupt your own musings over the stranger when you go back another photo in his gallery. This time it's a photo of the girl kissing Seungcheol on the cheek, his eyes closed with a shy smile. 

"That's–" Seungcheol barely opens his mouth to explain but trails off when you abruptly pull away from him. "She's– A friend… Um, goes to college in the place and she's–" He stops talking with a groan because great, all his stuttering has you side-eyeing him, no doubt recognizing the guilt swimming in his eyes.

Your voice is so small when you finally speak up, pace increasing. "That's cute," is all you say.

"Wait, Y/N, you don't understand. I know what I sound like but–"

"Just to be clear," you stop your brisk walking to hold up a hand in between you and him as if to symbolize the space there. "You don't have to explain anything to me. It's all cool, Seungcheol." 

And the way you murmur his name transports him back a couple months, a similar breezy night. One where you'd pulled him away from a group dinner with your friends and looked down at your feet the whole time but your words had pierced right through his heart anyway. Even back then, you said his name softly, without any malice, but even that might've been merciful. Because what's worse is the way you uttered his name like goodbye, sincere enough to bring tears to his eyes, even now, as he watches your forlorn back disappear into the night. 

Zero points to Seungcheol. 

– 

"Y/N, you in there?"

It takes a good minute of Nayeon repeating her questioning in increasing volume for you to finally hear her knocks over the sound of the music playing through your headphones. You frown as you uncover one ear and call out, "Nayeon? What happened?" The door to your room slowly creaks up, revealing your roommate standing there with her hands occupied, each holding up a bottle of soju invitingly.

"Wanna talk about it?" 

You're already tearing up when she asks you that and by the time you've both drunk your way through the bottles, your eyes feel numb. You interrupt your own worrying over how swollen they were bound to be tomorrow when you point a finger at Nayeon and question, "I really needed this today. How'd you know?"

She smiles, "Of course I did. You ignored my text about eating at Mingyu's Kitchen and my offer to pay. Plus, you didn't do the thing you usually do where you come in and complain about your ex."

You pout, "I'm sorry. I must be so annoying."

"You are," Nayeon shrugs, "And I like it. But you know what I would like more? If you would just make up with him already."

"No."

"Is this about that one photo of some girl kissing him on the cheek? You know how petty it is to get jealous over something like that?"

"She was seriously pretty, Nayeon!" you defend yourself, "And I'm not jealous, just– just upset because he didn't tell me earlier. I feel so stupid."

"I'm sorry, babe," she mutters, rubbing your back, "He's an idiot for not just coming clean."

"I know! Even after he went sticking his nose in my business and who I slept with while he was gone!"

You sniffle, "Maybe I should just call him and tell him to never ever talk to me again. And that he's a jerk. And that I still love him."

"Wait a second," Nayeon pulls you back onto your butt on the floor, "Maybe, let's reconsider that last part?"

You're clearly more drunk than you let on because you look genuinely confused by her interjection. "What? About me hating him?"

– 

When you drag yourself into work on Monday, you expect a lot of things. You see the headache coming, from last night's drinking and this morning's lack of hot water. You also know it's going to rain the whole day so it's only harder to put one foot after another to move. And where you also expect to pestered by a man: the desperate pleas don't come from Seungcheol like you'd secretly hoped.

"Soonyoung?"

The man, who'd been impatiently pacing by the entrance to your store, stops at the sound of your voice and spins around, nearly slipping over thanks to the wet ground. He throws the daunting hood covering his eyes with a bright smile as you run over and hastily unlock the store.

"Why're you out here in the rain?" 

Soonyoung sighs in relief once he's inside brushing his damp pants off with a quick hand. Then, he looks up with a shy expression, "Well, I… need to ask you something."

And given his past mooning over you, when he says that with a nervous laugh, you're stiffening up because you think you know where this is going. But then, Soonyoung defies your expectations for the second time yet again. 

Because where you'd expected to have to turn him down with an incompetent attempt at kindness, the next hour finds you grappling with all the information he's throwing at you.

For starters, he does ask you out. But– "It's fake. Dont worry, I'm not actually into you like that," he quickly adds with a dry laugh. 

As it turns out, he's asking you to help him make a move on a girl he only recently realized he liked. Her name's Chaewon and the only thing you know about her is that she owns a strawberry farm and can sing on ocassion. So you're easily worried by this proposition, "Soonyoung, why would you pretend to be with someone else? Shouldn't you be asking her out?" 

The boy heaves a sigh, "Y/N, I hate it to break it to you but nobody does that anymore. Keep up with the times, won't you? Jealousy is the new I like you."

"I'm pretty sure that's not true," you scoff out, refusing to let Soonyoung peg you as old-fashioned. Your stomach swims at his words anyway, ming wandering to your own… jealousy issues with a certain someone.

"Anyway, there's an open observatory night or something at her farm tonight with complementary dinner after. And I need you to come with me and make her jealous." 

"I don't like how serious you are about this," you complain, "And I don't think I want to be a part of this evil scheme."

"Please, Y/N, you're the only one I can rely on! And you're basically a celebrity around here, when it comes to dating."

You frown, finally looking away from the shelf you'd been re-ogranizing, "What do you mean?"

Soonyoung bites his lip, clearly having said something he shouldn't have. You poke at his arm urgently with a glare. He groans, giving in, "Well, it's just… your break-up with Seungcheol was the only thing anyone could talk about last month! And then the gossip only resurfaced when he came back to town."

"What kind of gossip?" you press with narrow eyes. 

"I– can't say."

"Soonyoung," you warn him, "Tell me. Or I won't pretend to be your girlfriend."

"Oh, come on! This is blackmail!"

"I thought you really wanted to be with Chaewon, no?" you question with inordinate amounts of innonence in your smile, "Makes you want to paint flowers onto the sky for her, doesn't she?"

"Fine, I'll tell you but only because this side of you is scary," the boy sighs out, "People think the reason you broke up with him was because he cheated on you. And now he's back in town so he can apologize and make up with you… or whatever." 

"That's ridiculous!" you cough out, "Who's been spewing this nonsense? I'm gonna have to–"

He holds your arm in an attempt to ground you, "Nobody really thinks it's true though! And remember how you promised to not tell a soul about a word I told you today?"

"I don't because I never said that–!"

"Seungcheol's gonna be there tonight, too, if that helps?"

Soonyoung's clearly much more devious than you last remember him being but when he explains that this could be a win-win situation for both of you– where he makes Chaewon realize her feelings for him, you also make Seungcheol jealous with your little act. 

And while you're sure to curse the him out for his assumption that you would want to get back with Seungcheol at all to begin with, the idea does leave an impression on you. Your mind's gears are working really hard, not just because you're trying to figure out a new spread for the monthly display at the front of your bookstore, but also because you keep finding loopholes in Soonyoung's grand plan.

"But is pretending to be together for one dinner really going to convince anyone? I mean, no offense, but nobody I know will believe that."

Soonyoung shrugs, "It's not just for one night. We're obviously going to do other stuff." You scrunch your nose up in disgust. "But think of tonight as the opening night. What we do tonight determines how the rest of our lives will pan out. We could end up lonely and dreadful if one of us messes up."

– 

For all of your criticism of Soonyoung's hyperbolic description of a dubious scheme, that evening finds you making double-takes in the front camera of your phone every other minute. Yep, turns out your nose was still on your face.

"Y/N, you look great," Soonyoung calls out finally, having watched you the whole ride to the venue. It was part of his plan, of course, to make things seem more official in his words. "So can you stop?"

"Are you sure you don't like me?"

As it often happens, your own question catches you more off-guard than it does Soonyoung. Your nerves have succesfully taken over your bodily functions. 

"I don't, Y/N," he responds with an easy smile, "I don't know why you keep asking me that. Do you like me or something?"

You sigh. "Sorry. It just seemed like that for a while. But I'm glad you don't, it makes things a lot easier."

"Good," he hums and then, after a beat passes, "By the way, when all of this over and both of us are hopefully happily in love with our respective partners–"

"I'm not in love with Seung–"

"And after you're done denying your feelings– Maybe we can be friends?"

You nod with a thoughtful hum, "Sure. That sounds fine. Except I thought we were already friends?"

Conversation with Soonyoung becomes a lot less tiresome when you've both established the purely platonic basis of your relationship. Which is ironic because fifteen minutes later, he's whispering in your ear to smile as he reaches for your hand. But his presence is still comforting and you find yourself wondering why you hadn't always found it this easy to be friends with him. The thought keeps you distracted momentarily and then, you lock eyes with Seungcheol. 

You were standing next to Soonyoung when it happened, hand in his as he caught up with friends and purposefully showed off his new relationship. The news was as unexpected to them as it was to you this morning and keeps conversation busy enough to allow you to be completely zoned out. And then you spot Seungcheol across the room, his eyes fixed on you in the distance and his mouth set in an intimidating line.

You look away with a cough, feeling your neck grow warmer. Soonyoung senses the change in your mood and when he asks if you're okay, you lean into his ear and complain, "Fuck, I just made eye-contact with him." 

He breaks into a grin at your indirect admission to still liking your ex. If Seungcheol knew the context to your arrangement with Soonyoung, he would find this entire exchange heart-warming, losing it over how shy you've gotten. But he doesn't know.

So in his eyes, it just looks like you've just whispered an inside joke into another man's ear and his chuckles are out of fondness. And that's why attributes your shy flush to Soonyoung's response to you, and not the eye-contact you'd made with him seconds ago.  

Seungcheol spends the rest of the night lurking. He skirts your surroundings, his eyes in disbelief every time you don't pull away from Soonyoung's hand on you. He's confused and jealous. The combination has him malfunctioning in a corner when he spots you breaking away from Soonyoung's side for the first time that evening. 

He doesn't even spare a thought to his actions when he springs forth, trailing you to the refreshments. You're trying to refill your lemonade even though you don't really have the desire to drink it anymore, mainly because Soonyoung had approached Chaewon and it seemed like his plan was working because you'd never felt so invisible in a conversation before. 

You can feel the act tiring you out though because you don't notice it when Seungcheol sneaks up to your side, breathing down your neck and staring seriously even when you spin around and almost spill your drink all over yourself in surprise. 

"S-Seungcheol!" you groan out, flustered but relieved your dress didn't have to suffer the consequences of your weakness around him. But your heart certainly did, especially when the man stepped closer, voice few octaves lower than usual.

"What are you doing with him?"

You go silent, knowing that you should feel unsettled by the absence of friendliness in his tone but only feel yourself enjoy the way he's so obvious about his jealousy. You look back at him, trying to seem innocent but immediately hate the way his eyes have reddened. "I'm… helping Soonyoung out."

Seungcheol's expression is a big question mark at that. A big angry question mark followed by an exclamation point, if you will. "...by following him around on his arm all night?" 

"Um… yeah," you look over his shoulder to make sure Soonyoung's still occupied by Chaewon and the momentary lack of attention is already pissing your ex-boyfriend even more. You hate lying but you convince yourself that right now, you're simply witholding information from someone. 

"I don't get it, Y/N," he says, "Did I lose my chance with you?"

The question catches you completely off-guard, leaving you gaping at Seungcheol. You were used to his short-temper and his incessant questions but this was new: the solemn setting of his lips and his downcast eyes as he asked you if he still stood a chance with you. He was being vulnerable, you realized, in a way that he never was during your relationship. The change is dizzying, it really is, and you can only think of all the other ways Seungcheol's been changed since he returned.

And all the ways he's stayed the same.

You swallow against the lump in your throat, "Come with me." 

You lead him to a slightly more secluded part of the observatory, a dimly lit corner that's orchestrated by more crickets and the lack of chatter is a welcome relief to your already crowded senses. "I'm not actually with Soonyoung," you breathe out, the truth weighing heavily on your tongue even though you'd only pretended for the one night, "I'm pretending to, because he asked me to." 

Seungcheol's eyes widen, "What? You're fake-dating that guy? Why?"

"He likes Chaewon," you point them out for him over his shoulder but Seungcheol only stares at your face with a serious expression. You retract your pointer with a flushed face, "And they were apparently getting nowhere, despite both liking each other. So he figured he needed some intervention."

You point to yourself this time with a half-smile and then remember the unimpressed look on Seungcheol's face. You watch his face carefully but he remains still for over a minute. 

"Well, I'm only telling you because you asked so nicely," you clear your throat, feeling a little stupid now that he's gone mute, "Do with that what you will. I'm gonna go back…"

You pat your dress down and exhale heavily, trying to steel yourself against both the disappointment and the cold night-air. You've already rejoined the noisy crowd, only a few steps away when you pick up on Seungcheol's voice. 

"--meant nothing…" is all you can pick up so you turn around to find him at an arm's length, muttering something, too low for it to be audible. You say, "What did you say?"

"I said that the photo you saw that day meant nothing. She's Jeonghan's girlfriend and I slept with her once. I also pretended to be into her but only so I could forget about you."

More than anything, you're shocked by the way he emphasizes you, the word coming out stronger than the rest of his explanation, one that does more to soothe your nerves than you realize. But you also don't know what to with this new information, because your brain can't keep up with how much more context there might be to it– Why did he sleep with her if she's with Jeonghan? And why did he look so happy in the photo if it meant nothing?

But tonight isn't about you, it's about Soonyoung and you've made a promise to him. So you tell Seungcheol, "I've gotta get back, Cheol–" the nickname slips out before you've censored yourself. Your face burns but you turn away quickly. "I- See you later."

The crowd is so close to you, just another step or two and you could be lost in the sea of half-familiar faces and probably get caught up in catching up with someone or the other. But if the crowd is close, then Seungcheol is closer to you. 

His hands are on your shoulders, warm heat invading your exposed arms pleasantly when he holds you back with that pained look of his. At this point, you're only partly grounded in your body, floating around when you hear Seungcheol's words to you. "I'm still in love with you, Y/N. Never stopped loving you, to be honest." 

That brings you back to earth with a jerk and you blink at him slowly. "I–" you start and then trail off. Then you start again, now that reality's starting to set again. "I feel the same. Obviously. I tried to move on but– ugh, I still love you." You feel Seungcheol's arm slide down to your elbows and then to find your hands, intertwining your fingers with his like he'd imagined doing ever since he got back to town.

"So we're good?" Seungcheol asks you, licking his lips with a small smile.

"Um, well, what do you mean by that because if– I mean, if we're friends–" You're trying to think of a way to state your thoughts in a self-respectful way when he leans in, lips brushing against your with a soft sigh. Your own breath hitches, especially when Seungcheol's hands come up to cup your face with a gentleness you forgot he could muster. He kisses you, sweet and soft, and when you pull away it's with a stupid grin.

He matches your grin, "Does that make things clear? We're not friends. I want to kiss your face and it would be great if you stopped pretending to date other men–"

The mention of fake-dating has you gasping loudly as you push Seungcheol away hastily, "Fuck, I'm supposed to be with–" You turn around and no doubt, everyone rushes to look away but you know the damage has been done when you hear scattered applause and whistles. The sight is heart-warming to you in a universe where you haven't just fucked up a plan. 

"I messed up big-time," you tell Seungcheol with an exasperated groan. 

The man regards you with thinly-concealed glee, "We kiss and make up but you're complaining because…?"

"Soonyoung! I was supposed to–"

Seungcheol doesn't do anything to help when he leans in to peck your lips again. You scowl at him, "What was that for?"

"Sorry, I just forgot what I was to you for a moment there, what with you going on about another man–"

"Cheol, I just confessed my love to you," you scold him but your ears turn pink, "And you're my boyfriend. So don't forget that. But right now, I need to go find my fake-boyfriend or I'll have blood on my hands–"

You're rushing to spot Soonyoung's head in the crowd when he suddenly appears, much closer than you'd anticipated, probably because he's heading right at you. You start to feel the guilt build up in your throat but then you see the grin he's sporting and the way he's skipping toward you. 

"Soonyoung," you call out, "I'm sorry–" you gesture toward Seungcheol vaguely, "I got a little caught up."

"Ahh, don't worry about it!" the boy chuckles lightly and then crosses his arms like he does when he has something to tell you, "I'm– The plan worked!"

"What?! It did? But I thought–?"

"Yeah, well, one part of the plan was to get you and Seungcheol together?" Soonyoung reminds you with a sly smile. You feel Seungcheol's arm around you as he pipes up, "It was???" You ignore how excited he sounds and narrow your eyes at Soonyoung, "Okay, but we clearly just ruined the whole act! What about–"

"Chaewon got jealous. And then when we spotted you and Seungcheol kissing, she was about to be really mad at you but I explained things to her… and then, she was mad at me but then… um, well, we, you know, kissed it out."

"Soonyoung!" you exclaim, clapping your hands together in relief, "That's great! We don't have to date anymore!" 

Soonyoung laughs at your phrasing but you're busy being wooed by the smitten smile on Seungcheol's face when squeezes your hand, muttering, "You all mine now?" 

– 

Cue star-gazing with Seungcheol. 

It was his idea, one he'd suggested out loud to you over the dinner that was also his idea, the candle between you flickering with your breathless agreement. You were in love with Seungcheol like you'd been for as long as you remember. The break-up, creeping up into your mind thanks to a combination of a lull in your relationship with him and doubts of whether there might be someone else for both of you, seemed like a faraway event already when you resumed your life with him.

"The stars are pretty, aren't they?"

You hum in agreement to Seungcheol, fiddling with his fingers. His laughter bleeds into your body, "You're not even looking up at the sky, baby."

You shift to lay down next to him. "I was!" you defend, "But then I got scared. The stars just make me feel so insignificant. And temporary." Your voice breaks a little, "I don't want temporary."

Seungcheol wraps around you, bringing your face up to his and watching you blink the tears out of yours. "Oh, doll, you're so precious," he huffs out, running a thumb under your eyes, "I love you. Fuck being temporary, okay? I'm going to be with you forever."

"You can't guarantee that though," you mumble out.

"I know I can't. Because I could die before you or like be abducted by the aliens when they inevitably come colonize us. We all know I'd be their first pick."

"You know that's not what I meant."

"Y/N, we're still together, even after we broke up," he kisses your cheek to emphasize your togetherness, "We're in love, despite it all. And that seems solid enough to me, you know? The scariest part of going into a relationship is the possibility of separating. But if we've done it before, how bad can it be?"

"What if we break up again?"

"Then we'll figure something out," Seungcheol says, "I know we will. It might not be the same as always but I promise I'll always be a part of your life for as long as I can." 

You sniffle into his shoulder, "I love you. Can you please beg the aliens to take me with you?" 

Seungcheol's laughter resounds through you yet again, a hand brushing your hair lovingly. You were finally wearing your hair down again, and it might've something to do with the way he would find a way to slip the hairtie out of its place. It sits around his wrist now, worn-out but incredibly dear to him. 

"Of course, love, anything for you." 

–  

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

the seungcheol brainrot never stops <3 i hope i've done this seungcheol justice, given what he went through in jeonghan's fic lol... anyway, i'm thinking of writing another part where jeongcheol catch up or something?? may be an interesting collision of worlds... we'll see.

[thecapricunt1616]

Pink Pony Club (Richie Jerimovich one-shot)

♡ One-Shot Inspo: Pink Pony Club by Chappell Roan "I'm up, and jaws are on the floor. Lovers in the bathroom and a line outside the door. Blacklights, and a mirrored disco ball Every night's another reason why I left it all" ♡ Summary: You're an Exotic Dancer / part time house mom at The Pink Pony, and end up falling for a man that is probably old enough to be your father. ♡ W/C: 2.9k ♡ Poste Date: 06/10/2024 ♡ A/N: Hello all! again, for the asks that are atp starting to mold in my inbox - imma get to you. This specific dirty old man in a suit has been making me feel things lately, so naturally I had to write some porn about it. Asks are still open even though I cant promise it'll be done snappy. Hope everyones week is off to a great start so far!! Tagged those who commented on the post saying this would be a good idea just so you could see how it came out, hope you like :) ♡ Warnings for BTC: Age gap relationships (R is in her mid-to-late 20's, mentions of sex work, Club environments, swearing, smut, rough sex (Richie likes to be slapped around sometimes, kay?) lowkey simp!Richie, no use of Y/N - pet names only, readers stage name is Pixie Polestar , unprotected sex, not edited, we die like men!

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

You had met Richie just about 2 months ago. It was safe to say, life had chewed him up and spit him out lately. 

If he was being honest with himself, the dating pool wasn’t exactly rich at 46 years old. He could count on almost two hands how long it had been since he got his dick up for more than just the binightly pornhub browser. 

That led him into the Pink Pony Club one fateful August night. You were working your usual shift, Pixie Polestar. You - unlike some of the other girls - really enjoyed your job. At least, the aspect of having fun on stage, doing cute, sexy little acrobat-like tricks on the pole while horny men paid you to take more of your clothes off?

Yes please. 

You weren’t a back room kind of girl, usually. That was because the amount of money you made from tricks on the pole was more than a lot of the girls you worked with made in a whole shift while you just worked the 45 minute trick-filled stage set then would give a few $400 lap dances depending on your mood, before skipping on home, taking a hot shower, and slipping in your silk sheets with your air conditioner turning your bedroom something akin to an ice box. 

That was how that night was supposed to go. 

How the night really went, was some loud borderline obnoxious man at least 15 years your senior, had found his way into the Pink Pony. He was wearing a pressed navy blue suit, that complimented his pretty blue eyes. That was the second thing you noticed about him while he loudly whistled for Krystal who was currently doing her set. 

You weren’t really supposed to be here anymore - well- you didn’t have to be here. You had found yourself a solution, a real career path if you will. But you enjoyed your time on the pole because it was art, and dancing was a confidence booster for you. In any regard, you were going to get older, you were going to pass your prime as the house mom was always telling you girls, so you needed another stream of income. 

Of course, being a … *eh-hem* - exotic dancer was the word you preferred, stripper just sounded trashy to you, did come with its negative stereotypes, one of which being no where will rent to you - because you had terrible credit. So, naturally, being the resourceful woman you are - you walked your happy ass to the open house of a for sale by owner showing, and told the nice realtor you’d take it. 

Boom. Done, you had a place to live in 3 weeks, when you closed on it. Then, it dawned on you. The other girls you worked with had the same issue you did. So, you found another house, saved another 25k for the amount to put down, and rented it to your coworkers. 

It was the perfect system, because you knew you’d get your rent. You knew exactly how much money each girl made because you watched them make it, you knew where they lived, and they had to look you in the eye every night. So it’s easy to say no one ever tried you. The only real reason you hung around The Pink Pony anymore was because you wanted to keep an eye on your girls and dancing was fun too. 

When he first laid eyes on you, it was something akin to a cartoon character when their pupils turn into hearts. It wasn’t too abnormal, you were one of the more bombshell-esc dancers at the club, and that isn’t to say that you outdid anyone it was all based on preference. Some men loved plain Jane’s, and the plain Jane’s were just as beautiful as any of the other girls, but the reaction of men basically tripping over their feet to try and come talk to you was more likely going to happen to you then anyone else.  

But he…didn’t come over, that was interesting to you. So, you being the master of customer service you were, took your drink and kept your eyes locked on his as you made your way across the room, and plopped right in his lap. “Never seen you here before sweetheart” your manicured hand found the back of his neck, gently caressing over his skin. 

He tried to play it cool, but your tits we’re basically in his face, he could smell your perfume perfectly, fuck he genuinely can’t believe that a girl so beautiful just sauntered over and sat in his fucking lap. Was he dreaming? He found his mind racing, and for once in his 46 years he was dumbfounded and couldn’t find anything to say. 

“Cat got your tongue honey?” You smirked a bit, gently cupping his stubbly cheek and rubbing your thumb over his bottom lip, pulling it gently before letting it snap back into place. He swallowed thickly, his hand resting on your bare thigh, just below the white glittery mesh coverup you were wearing. 

“I’m Richie.” He blurted out, his cheeks felt like they were on fucking fire, any blood that wasn’t rushing there was rushing to his cock and he found himself wondering when the last time he’d gotten hard so easy was. 

“Well hello Richie. I’m Pixie, what brings a handsome man like you in on a Friday night mm, no big plans?” You absentmindedly played with his chain, pretending to pay no mind to the long length that was hardening in the curve of your ass. All you would have to do is shuffle just a tiny bit and his cock would be nestled between your cheeks and the itty bitty powder pink g string that you wore beneath the tiny mesh piece of fabric that was basically for show and no use to cover anything. 

“I guess I was lookin’ f’some entertainment. Think I found it” he spread his legs more, causing you to sink further into his lap and his hand found the curve of your waist, his thumb rubbing little up and down strokes over the smooth skin. He never believed that the sheer triple x rated porn movie he was creating in his mind would become a reality that night but man did it. 

It was also his first night taking the dreaded viagra prescription his doctor had given him when he got real about his … shortcomings as of late. The man isn’t what he used to be stamina wise, okay? Nonetheless - he still rocked your shit - well, more like you rocked his. 

Who knew this foul mouthed, old school, borderline toxic masculinity-entrenched motherfucker would get so much pleasure from your palm coming across his cheek just hard enough it left a yummy sting and telling him “My eyes are up here you old pervert” as you bounced on his cock with a rhythm he couldn’t bring to the table himself anymore, and that in turn causing your tits to bounce like a fucking hentai film less then a foot from his face. 

Something about a younger girl calling him old and smacking him around all while using his cock to get herself off, babbling about how good he makes her feel made him more confident then he had been in years.

He often would find himself feeling a little pang of sadness after you started seeing eachother, in moments where you two were laughing a way he only ever did with Mikey before you came around, and making him feel like he was in fuckin’ High school again with how giddy he was to see you after every shift. All of it would just remind him how bad he wishes you could have met Mikey, and how bad he wishes he could tell Mikey. 

Richie knows, he would be so jealous, but in a brotherly way - that such a young hot piece of ass, a young smart, hot, funny, piece of ass was calling him daddy, told him he was ‘her mans’ whatever the fuck that meant. He assumed girls today call their boyfriends that, there were a lot of little phrases and lingo you had to explain to him and would always make fun of him for being old after doing so. 

He would tease you too, having some late 80s early 90’s radio station on (because the old head didn’t understand what streaming was) while he drove you around of course since he had learned from you that you were his ‘passenger princess’ and saying something like ‘oh babygirl this is before your time, this is from my day” before cranking up the radio and serenading you with Bad Girl by Madonna, belting it in such a silly, dramatic way between drags of his cigarette you couldn’t help but burst into giggles and kiss him at the next red. 

You had told him that when you used to do private dances that Like a Virgin was one of your favorite to dance to for the ‘older’ gentleman, he spanked you playfully when you said his crowd was older as he usually did, and of course later that night he had you perform for him and you ended up getting your back blown out to material girl since you had been streaming the song from your phone and didn’t care to find it and turn it off. 

When Tina had played it jokingly at family dinner one night, he couldn’t help the smirk that came to his lips at the memory. Funnily enough, she was the first person to find out about you. Of course, he didn’t divulge anything other than he was finally seeing someone consistently, nothing about your age or profession. Based on the way Tina had reacted with clapping and kissing his cheeks, gushing “I’m so proud of you papa! That’s so good, this is so good for you! You need to get out there more” he was reevaluating his social life or lack there of and telling himself he needed to get out more, which lucky for him you were young and bubbly so you could get him out of the house. 

The next person he told, he really told, was Carmy. Well- technically Syd too, but she just happened to overhear. 

“W-wait wait” Carmy pinched the bridge of his nose how he did when he was baffled and confused, brows knitting together as he shook his head. “Lemme- lemme just get this straight - y’datin a…..” 

“Ex-o-tic dancer, cousin. It’s 2024, fuckin hell. Women dance and get paid for it - no big deal.” He repeated, emphasizing each sound as if what he was explaining was the most casual thing in the world, which - you had explained to him it should be so he took that and ran with it. 

“You’re fucking…a stripper- a stripper that’s what they’re called when they dance naked -  and how old did you say she was?” Syd questions. 

“Hey- she leaves her panties on she’s only naked top up, and plus she doesn’t even have to anymore she does it for the art.” He points the spoon he was wiping down at Carmy “this new NOMA bullshit we’re doin’ here isn’t the only art, Cousin. Shes an artist” he dropped the spoon in the bucket with the rest of the pristine ones he’d worked on. 

“Sure- and she’s fuckin younger then me” Carmy replied. “She could be y’fuckin-“

“Yeah, yeah - whatever she could be my fuckin daughter where’s your girlfriend huh? I don’t see anyone linin’ up to fuck you. She’s nice, and into me - and - and she’s funny and smart. So see already 2 qualities named that I don’t see much of around here so excuse fuckin me f’wantin to be happy when I’m not in this shithole” he teased 

“So- this not even 30 year old, she is gonna be y’date to the thanksgiving friends and family night - the one your daughter and ex wife are attending - and you think that will be a good idea considering tiff’s track record with girls you bring around” Syd questioned. 

“Yup” was all he said before taking the now finished bin of spoons to be put away, glad for the conversation to have finally been over. 

He rehashed the whole conversation with you later that night as you slowly rolled your hips into his, your skin sticking to his, both of you covered with a thin layer of sweat. You had his hands pinned next to his head, fingers interlaced with yours, practically speaking into your mouth as you kissed him sloppy and open mouthed, obsessed with eachothers taste. You always tasted of bubblegum, a habit you’d carried with you since childhood, he always tasted of cigarettes, a habit he had carried since high school. 

“Baby with my job I’m used to people not understanding me - I didn’t expect your friends to like me. My job - it can make people uncomfortable. But fuck them. You know how we feel huh?” You picked up the speed of your hips, using the curly deep brown patch of hair at the base of his cock to cause the most delicious friction with each thrust on his cock as you chased your orgasm. 

“Ye’ fuck em baby- shit- so fuckin tight- all mine right?” He breathed, mouthing over the bruises he’d left on your breasts a few nights ago. That was one thing about your job he had a bit of difficulty getting past, but you assured him you had no feelings for any clients and that you weren’t doing lap dances anymore only your stage set and otherwise you were just there to be more of a second house mom. But still, he was a man after all. He was possessive, a little jealous sometimes. So he loved to hear that you were only his during moments like this. 

“Yes daddy- all yours. You own this- you own me” you kissed his hand before bringing it to your breast and then using his shoulders as leverage to bounce further up and down, the action causing his head to fall back and jaw to fall slack. 

“Just like that - god- fuck - holy shit baby- shit-shit- y’fuckin close? How fuckin long has it been?” He pinched your nipple lightly, causing your pussy to clench around him and a pornstar like whine to leave your lips 

“It’s been 15 minutes- Christ you’re like a teenager. Can’t even last 30 minutes?” You teased, leaning in and kissing his neck, biting and nibbling the skin as you circle your hips, essentially jutting the tip of his cock into your g spot and that floaty feeling sneaking up on you as you feel him shoot rope after rope of arousal, painting your pretty, gummy walls a milky white and his stomach muscles clenching at the overstimulation. 

The grunts and moans that left his lips when you got him here were some of the hottest noises you’d ever heard a man make before, you were always sure to file them away in a special little folder in your brain for a rainy day he wasn’t able to get you off himself. “Feel good daddy?” You asked sweetly, sitting up and resting your hands on his hips so you could look down and watch as your mixed arousals gush out of you and around him, thick strings breaking with each slow, purposeful roll of your hips 

“So fuckin good baby- Jesus gonna finish soon? Dunno how much more I can do” he said, voice breathy, blissed out, nearly whiny. 

“Mmhmm few more minutes daddy- god we’re so pretty, I bet we taste so good mm?” You swipe the pad your forefinger over your clit, gathering the sweet and bitter white, making a show of rubbing it over the hardened bud of your nipple “feels good, too, wanna tell me how it tastes?” You leaned in and he nearly groaned as he took your breast in his mouth, crystal like eyes seeding into your own gaze as he flicked his tongue gratefully around the sensitive nub. 

You whined hotly, the sight of your tit in his mouth mixed with the feeling of his pants huffing through his nose and fanning over the swollen flesh as his tongue swirled and licked and flicked and drove you over the edge. You cried out, hips stuttering as you rode out your orgasm. His hand found your heat, rubbing with scissored fingers over your clit and meeting around his cock before dragging his fingers back up to repeat the assault. 

The action had you gushing around him, the contractions of your heat getting stronger causing him to groan into your skin and that vibration just added more stimulation. “Fuck yes- god daddy- always make me feel so good, no one understands how good we make eachother feel hm? Nothing else matters, baby, as long as you feel good, right?” 

You pulled him in for a sloppy, hot, passionate kiss. A kiss that made his heart do flips, and his stomach flutter, and made him feel way lighter.

Richie thought to himself in that moment he may be falling in love again, and he was equal parts fucking terrified, and excited to see where things with you went. 

He just had to get over ripping off the very last bandaid, and then you could really be together -

And that bandaid was Tiff.

@aestheticaltcow - @myszie - @wtfsteveharrington

[abbysbasement]

(Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader)

 — PAPI BONES

A/N: Hi, this is the formerly scrapped, 3x longer, 2 months writing project that I had because I wanted to fuck abby in a closet! this was actually supposed to be my first post on tumblr, but i got mad at it and sent it to the dungeon for two months :/ but yall wanted it, so I'm super happy i got to finish it, even though it took multiple days and cups of coffee to power through. sorry for the wait, hope you fuck wit her.

content tags (can you tell i don't want to write anymore ;w;): college au, childish antics at a big age, drinking, cool, ellie and dina are in this! kind of abstract sexual descriptions, assplay, cunnilingus (r!receiving), boob... touching? small mention of drugs because dealer!ellie, drunk sex, enthusiastic consent! :D, reader is kind of annoying sorry, men being assholes, reader catching feelings for a girl she fucked once, real.

wc: 7.6k ;w; (send help)

proofread?; barely.

tl : @clearheartgreyflowers, @oatmilkchaii, @ghostfacebunny, @ellsbclls (thank you to the sweetest deb @ellsbclls for helping beta read this, i appreciate your suggestions and encouragement and this would probably have been scrapped TWICE without your help ;w; )

synopsis: your best friend dina drags you to a college frat party. you hate shit like this, and you're painfully shy but when she does those puppy dog eyes you can't say no, so in a cruel twist of fate you end up in the closet with abby Anderson, and lose your virginity. yay college! (apart of the 'jackson university' thematic!)

Your idea of a Saturday night well spent wasn’t squeezing through a sea of sweaty backs; but like many things in your life, it wasn’t up to you, because you were easily swayed. Everything was overstimulating, the waves of bodies on bodies that pulsated and threw you between different poses and balances to keep on your feet, the ringing of laughter, of music, of every sound echoing in your head, around your body, vibrating through your very core. The smell of liquor and drunken antics and that one guy puking in the corner made you sick. But somehow, you were here, spurred on by peer pressure friendship and goodwill, trudging through the blackened room to your target; the snack table. 

Dina, your roommate, and determinant best friend held a firm hand on the small of your back, pushing you through the crowd and causing a small jolt to run down your body as she steered you around every obstacle and corner in the room. She was a woman on a mission, and the one who dragged you out of bed, convincing you - against your better judgment- that it was fatal that you accompanied her to a frat party. You knew she was good-natured, and your first friend when you moved 500 miles away from home to college. It was an instant click, but you were opposite best friends. 

Dina, ever the social butterfly, had connections in all different spaces; she could party with the sorority girls –hold the coke, please,– out-cram everyone, even the National Honor Society kids, all the way to the top of the class, hell, she was on the damn debate team, which was probably why it wasn’t a struggle to get a ‘yes’ out of you. You, on the other hand, were uncomfortable at bars, school sporting events, and parties, and one time you even thre– fuck, never mind. It was all effortless to her, in almost an enviable way. Dina loved to go clubbing, loved to hang, out, and she had been near-begging you to come out with her and her cool friends for months, not that you’re not cool, I mean. 

And somehow, despite everything, it worked. 

You could almost remember how you got there if you put away the sticky crunch of coke sticking to your shoes with each step, and reached back into the recesses of your mind. Or at least, back three-and-a-half hours ago. 

“They’re all great people, no weirdos, promise!” 

It was the emphatic plea made to you as you lay on your bed, queuing up the next episode of the apocalypse show you watched each week, watching her make Dina list off every reason why you just had to follow her out tonight. It was clearly very life-or-death shit to her, but you were unconvinced. It was just a party but there was going to be a smaller, more intimate kickback in a friend-of-a-friend’s basement. She was in the middle of getting ready, sitting at her school-issue desk and looking at herself in the mirror, dark hair coned over her head in a bun as she sat in deep concentration, words slurred and simple as she applied mascara, her mouth slacked into an O position.

“So you’re gonna like, fucking go, yeah?”

She said it as though it was obvious, like it wasn’t a question, but one look at you, –curled up in covers, laptop on chest, martini glass pajama pants and teddy bear teeshirt ON, unbothered– showed her that it would be a tall order, and that big guns would be needed. 

“Not interested, sorry.” 

“Not even a tinyyyyy bit?” Dina squeezed her fingers together for emphasis, throwing her head back in mock exhaust, a theatric groan rumbling out of her throat. “Not even a little bit.” You echoed, your roommate cutting her eye at you through her handheld mirror, but it was what it was. You weren’t into all of that stuff; the bump and grind of sweaty bodies wasn’t alluring, listening to someone else’s shitty music at ear-bleeding levels felt like hell, and if you wanted to get pitifully drunk and throw up all over yourself, there was a garbage can right under your bed. But your friend really, really, wanted your company and it made you feel, really, really bad to always blow her off. 

“Why are you going so hard on this?” You bemused as you propped up on your elbows, watching as she stalked around the room in her newly painted face, quickly rummaging through her drawer for a spare outfit. 

“Maybe because it bums me out to see my super cool roommate wasting away in her dorm every weekend?” In Dina’s mind, she was making a lot of sense. She was waiting for you to chime in, to say you know what, Dee? You’re right, I get it. But instead, you stared blankly, and she threw down her arms in exasperation. “You’re in fucking college, man! You don’t even wanna have one night of fun?”  She punctuated the ‘fucking’ with a wild gesture around her head, which made you chuckle to yourself.

“I mean, I was planning on wa–”

Your body was jostled by an insane amount of weight, almost turned completely over by two roughhousing dudes– a mess of limbs and arms, who looked at you and then at each other, as though they had spontaneously sobered up. You didn’t even have the time to start to be angry when they prattled off a blended, slurred apology and thrashed somewhere away through the mass of hands and faces in the dark room.

Fucking assholes, ruining the flashback sequence. 

The room was lit only by haphazard mood lights; soft LEDs and gaudy, flickering Christmas baubles, a solitary television, camped by stoners who laughed madly, and the dim auburn glow of the odd ceiling lamp nestled in the far back of the house. You were out of your element; you couldn’t dance, weren’t the most social, and even though you were with a friend, all of this made you feel very alone.

Dina cut through the crowd with her elbow, bellowing out “Ex–cuse me!” while she pushed you through gaps as they formed. Her voice fell to mutter again, barely audible, chunked and cut by the music bouncing from wall to wall, grumbling that she had places to be, and if E*&^$ didn’t get her off at least once, there would be hell to pay.  She was determined to get to the other side of the room, where it was arranged that by the chips, as smokers usually are, she would find her current fuckbuddy and her friends, waiting to hotbox and pregame a bit more before the room peaked. She was driven by horniness and selfishness, as one typically is after four shots of Tito’s vodka, and getting smoked out and ‘taken care of’ upstairs was half the reason she even came.

You’d never met her most recent suitor, and the question of her girlfriend was always met with a ‘no, she’s just my sneaky link.’ but you didn’t question it enough to know more. She was just the girl who Dina would go off campus to meet, and as long as she wasn’t a slasher, and her pre-rolls knocked you on your ass, it would be what it was. You were carried away by your friend’s excitement, by her heavy hand nearly lifting you off of your feet as she beelined to the kitchen, wrangling your twin bodies every which way. 

“Ellie! Ellie!” She yelled, jumping up and down a bit to compensate for her voice being swallowed by the bass. She burrowed through the wave, pushing you towards a girl leaning against the sink, nursing a red cup and low, hazy eyes. Her auburn hair was swallowed by a black docker, and a dark-coloured backpack jutted out from behind her as she smiled and waved the two of you –mostly Dina, into her orbit. She looped her head under your shoulder to be pulled into the strong hug of firm biceps, and Arms looked you over, offering a friendly nod. 

–

“It’s on streaming. You can watch ‘Many of Them’ literally whenever!”

“Live tweeting is a part of the experience.” You chided matter-of-factly, sitting up cross-legged. It wasn’t like the brunette was wrong, exactly, but you couldn’t give up too much at once. Going soft was not a part of the plan.

“Fuck, whatever– You know the girl I’ve been hooking up with, right?” Her eyebrow raised at your dispassionate ‘not really.’ “Well you know her fucking joints, she sells– weed, shrooms… pills?” Dina listed off with her finger, mulling over the last detail for a second, then confirming in her head with a nod. It’s fine, you’re cool, and the two of you had always bonded over your love of recreational joy anyways. “So, if you wanna smoke orsomething– I got you, all you have to do is show up.” Her hands were up almost sheepishly as she tested the waters, but you weren’t super convinced, and your idea of fun wasn’t exactly playing wingman while she got tongue-fucked by a drug dealer, and the pregnant pause was enough to cue her into having to bring out the big guns. 

“-And, and!  I'll wash all our dishes, and cleanyoursideoftheroomforaweek.” 

Damn, she practically ran through that last part, so under her breath you knew she was hoping that you didn’t hear. But you did, and for a second you could almost see a smirk play on her face as your eyes lit up. She was always up for a good bribe, and even though she would act annoyed, it was great for breaking you out of your shell. She would offer to watch the zombie show if you came out to the bars in your college town with her, pizza if you confessed to your crush instead of instastalking them three times a day, even though it didn’t work, –oh well, shooters shoot– and tonight? A week free from chores if you just spent a couple of hours in your own personal hell. Yeah, you would give her this one. 

“Now we’re talking. If you want someone to be the lookout while you and Jesse Pinkman go at it, who am I to deny?” You teased, kicking your legs over the edge of the bed. 

Your roommate craned her head up, momentarily stopping her mission of rifling through her clothes. “Who said that?”

“You’re in your ‘good panty’ drawer.” You whispered cheekily. 

“Well, you got me. Someone has to get fucked around here.”

“Oh fuck you, bitch!” You laughed, throwing your pillow, hitting smack in the center of her chest. 

Dina bounced around the room, practically billowing with glee. There was a descending, barely audible ‘fuck yeah’ as she traipsed down the hall towards the bathroom, rounding the corner and disappearing from your periphery. 

“By the way, you know Jesse’s last name is Huang, right, not Pinkman? And we’re uh– not together anymore.” Dina shouted through the silence.

“That’s a character from Breaking Bad. It was a joke– because he’s a drug de–” You stopped yourself midway. “Never mind. It’s not funny if I explain it.”

“Oh– I never watched Breaking Bad. Too Long.” She deadpanned. You chuckled to yourself, shaking your head as you slid your way off the bed. 

That’s how you found yourself in a dimly lit bathroom, missing the comfort of your memories as ‘Ellie’ rolled a blunt. You stood leaning against the door and Dina sat on the closed toilet seat. The dealer sealed the last of the leaf with a flick of the tongue and a lick of spit, maintaining direct eye contact with Dina so she could not-so-subtly show off. She passed it to the brunette first, who mimed a cheeky, ‘why thank you’ and drew poutily. You three sat there for a while, smoking and talking, steam from the hot shower wafting above your heads as music pumped through the foundation of the house. 

There was laughter outside of the door and it soon became awkward for you, Ellie and Dina finishing the blunt, –you were a lightweight– and chatting idly as Dina traced a fingertip against the outline of the tattoo Ellie was showing off. 

The temperature of the tiny room ran hotter between their reddened eyes, and it was as though you were being banished by a galactic force. You couldn’t mistake how the red-haired girl’s glance caught an extra second or so at the way Dina’s body was hugged just right in her party dress, cleavage strained against the fuchsia PVC of her neckline, and how she bit the corner of her lip when her eyes hooked on a dark mole on Dina’s breast that was framed by the feathers of her black hair.  

It was time to go, unless you were interested in seeing your best friend get dug out on the countertop.

You were already a little bit wobbly, hearing a giggle that slipped from Dina’s lips morph into a squeak as you slipped out of the crack you pulled in the door and into the fray, getting carried down the stairs and back over to the drinks. You crossed over a kissing couple, cutting into their makeout and heavy petting session, and through a huddled together group of girls whispering something about seeing an ex across the room. 

You gripped onto the countertop for stability when you finally broke free from the pulsating wave of bodies. There was a bit of everything surfing in deep bowls of ice and water, open bags of chips and snacks bunched up together on the island. You could not be sober for this shit. You wedged up the pop cap on a hard seltzer and brought it to your lips, the spirit coating your tongue and boiling its way into your stomach. There it was again, the familiar warm feeling in your hands and feet, the soft pressure already creeping across the flat of your face. Yeah, now that was it. The anxiety began to melt away, and you leaned against the countertop, flexing your legs. 

Wow, they’re inviting giants to the shindig too. You laughed to yourself as the scarlet-lit ocean parted, and a tall, wide figure walked through and into the darkness of a descending flight of stairs. If only it was that easy when you needed to piss, notwithstanding that you had already been in the bathroom.

 It’s fun being sardonic sometimes. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see your roommate coming down the stairs, the dealer’s deft fingers pulling down part of her dress that rode up her ass.  She arched her head up, straining left and right like the eye of a submarine as she looked for you; her eyes lit up, waving to you as she fisted her companion’s belt loop, bouldering through the sea of people. She was high as fuck, if her bright pink eyes were enough to speak to it, and your gaze lingered over the new expanse of a deep purplish hickey on her neck, small indents from teeth glimmering with saliva in the light.  

There was that hotness again that burned in the pit of your stomach, not from drunkenness or anxiety, but the can of fruity liquor in your hand covered up for the embarrassing flush of your wild cherry-coloured cheeks. You peeled your eyes back up to her face and smiled dumbly. You’d never had *that* before. You’ve watched things before at least, and obviously, touched yourself to the thought, but you’ve never had someone to fool around with in bathrooms or hold your skirt when it rode up.

There was your first kiss, but it was in middle school, so it didn't count. It was all clammy lips, two noses that couldn’t get the space between them *quite* right, and an overzealous set of chompers that left you with a bloody lip. Actual horseshit, but somehow, a core memory. It was annoying in a way, how it just didn’t come to you, but you wanted to be wanted. To be lusted over, desired even in that casual touchy way that simmered between your best friend and the girl you didn’t know very well.  Dina was making grabby hands at you, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed. Your drink bobbed as she whisked you to her will, you and Ellie sharing a knowing look as she pushed your bodies through the hall and down the darkness of the stairwell. 

– 

“RULES ARE SIMPLE,” some asshole in a hat bellowed as he stood over all of you who sat in the circle, mildly drunk off your asses and looking for easy fun. He held up a black beer bottle, carrying it like a trophy and swishing it around your noses for a closer look. “You kids might know seven minutes in heaven.” You didn’t know him, but according to Dina, this was his house, his party, and his very annoying rules. A light patch of raised skin played against his nose as he scrunched his nose over and over again, hands on hips, clearly trying to steal back whatever thought the liquor took from him. Jason, right? 

Whatever. 

“But we’re all grown-ups here, so I present to you–” He rolled the bottle in hand, clearly soft-launching his bright idea. “Fifteen minutes in purgatory!” There was a deep groan radiating from some, but there was a small minority that exploded in cheers, and whoops. “Pretty self-explanatory, two adventurers venture deep into purgatory, and come out forever changed.

“Two adventurers go deep into purgatory,” He gestured his head at the foreboding broom closet in the back of the room. “And return forever changed.” 

“We’ll use the bottle to choose our unlucky voyagers, and you’ll spend fifteen minutes in the closet.” He explained, dropping the mystique in the second half. “Alright kids, let’s start; and just for the record– If you’re a pussy, get the fuck out of the circle!”

The drunken cast of partiers whooped and cheered, hyping each other up, spilling beer out of red cups as they gestured wildly, entirely too grown for this. The room played ‘not it’ to pick who got the first spin, and the unfortunate soul was a blonde who sat cross-legged, blank-eyed at the black glass handed to her, nodding her head tersely. 

“We got our very own Abigail Anderson– !” Her eyes narrowed. “Andddd….” Hat praised, cueing her to spin. She took the bottle, pointing the tip towards herself and then spinning it, the glass doubling, tripling the circle, making you dizzy chasing it with your eyes, and everyone sat with bated breath. It slowed and slowed and slowed, until, like ugly fate, it stopped at your feet.

“Our newbie!” He got up to cheese, leaning over you, placing his hands over your shoulders, and rocking you from side to side. You laughed awkwardly, putting your palms up defensively at nothing. 

“Um– uh…” You were at a loss for words, only cut off as his head shot into your field of view, hot, hopsy breath tanging your nostrils. “What, you scared?” He taunted, all eyes on you, watching as you nursed a deep discomfort about the whole thing behind an uneasy smile.  

“You’re a fucking asshole, Jordan.” The girl, Abby, groaned. She looked up at you from her downward pointing head, swishing her bottle of hard cider in the hand propped over her knee. Jordan, that was the name of this dickhead. Yeah, fuck him. “If she doesn’t want to get in the closet, she doesn’t want to get in the closet. I’ll just spin again.”

Dina cut in, the redhead still leaning lazily against her. “Yeah, don’t–dont be a dick, Jordan.” Her face was tight, and Ellie was annoyed because Dina was annoyed, and the room held a pregnant silence, and even though it wasn’t your fault, you felt all too responsible and all too uncomfortable with all of the eyes watching you.

“It’s fine, guys. Let’s all– eh, chill out, okay? I’m going to take the dare.” You leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper, trying to steal back the vibe, trying to replace the tension with playful drama as you circled your head around, wiggling the fingers slightly of your held-up palms. “Because I’m not a little bitch.”

The crowd exploded in raucous laughter, each voice clashing together and mimicking the sound of a pipe bursting. You looked over at your partner, who seemed pleasantly surprised, a smirk playing on her peach lips. She placed down her bottle and stood, and as she towered over you, you realised that maybe you were playing with fire. She was scary and nonchalant, but the outer workings of her face were soft and gentle. She didn’t look like the girls in the videos you watched at night; she was something different, uncharted, and before you knew it, a nervousness, and something lower, darker, ran through your body. 

Then it was time to go, you piling in first, looking around at some of the half-darkness in the room, barely enough to fit two people in. 

The asshole patted the girl’s back, corralling her into the closet behind you. Blood rushed to your head, the pressure was too great, like getting skullfucked through your ears. show her a good time, you could hear him say, and then something that you couldn’t quite understand over the bass. The mountain’s eyes narrowed, but before she could shoot back, her large body crashed into yours and the space became tighter and tighter, just enough for the two of you to put your arms out to either side or turn around. For a split second, you could see Dina’s face from over Jordan’s shoulder, tightened in concern, a timid thumbs up at the side of her head. Then, he closed the door, and the last of the light slipped out through the crack in the wall. 

There was a deep silence, and somehow, like the hazy feeling you get right before you wake from a dream, you were chest to chest in the darkness with her blue eyes staring back at you, damn-near bioluminescent. You’d seen her around, because everyone sees her around, but it hadn’t registered that the giant who had parted all of those people in the crowd like they were just water, was standing right in front of you. Outside you could hear the rumble of the music, vibrations of the bass wrapping around you and shaking you from the inside out. The closet was too tight, too warm, too filled with smells from towels and coats and folded blankets and dusty boxes of light bulbs and two cramped, awkward bodies. 

Suddenly, you felt all too intimidated.

“You’re Abigail, right?” You questioned. “Off the rugby team?”

“Abby.” You couldn’t read her face in the dark, and though she spoke pointedly she didn’t seem angry, but the accidental overstep was enough to make you want to dig a hole through the floor with your bare hands and die in it. “And yeah– captain, of the rugby team.”

“Oh, sorry, sorry.” You yielded. “So… what are we supposed to do? In here, I mean.” You gestured at nothing, knocking some washcloths from a top shelf down in the dark. “Ah, damn it.” You cursed under your breath, bending down to pick up the small stack. You could hear Abby behind you, sucking her teeth with a judgy hum.  Her brows were almost touching her eyelids, captured in secondhand embarrassment, and she almost felt bad for how awkward you were, scrambling to pick them up from the floor.

  If you could see her face, you’d be able to tell how her eyes flicked up and down her body, taking everything in. Your black skirt slid slightly to bunch at the front, uncovering portions of your doughy thigh and the ever-so-tiniest range of fabric hiding your prettiest secret. She had to tear her eyes away, almost. She jumped, even, glad you couldn’t see as you popped back up. 

You were cute, holding the disheveled stack in your hands, a look of sheer pride on your face. You looked over to the side, tossing them unceremoniously on a free shelf, gravity taking a couple back to the ground. Your sated chuckle, the way your tits pushed up slightly, illuminated, almost framed like art by the neckline of your cream cardigan made her hungry. She pushed the ideas of what she wanted to do with them out of her mind, but damn, she could think about some things that would make the devil embarrassed. She stomped down her desire, stoicism crossing her for a second, only for her to open it back up on second thought.

“They want us to fool around, fuck, ideally.” She started, analysing your expressions for any hint of discomfort at the conversation. “But– we don’t have to do anything.” She tried to cut some of the thick discomforts with a placating smile, almost lost in detail in the low light. She was huge, more so than you, or most anyone else you knew, the jutting-out edge of a shelf knocking the back of her head every time she leaned her head back in the tight space. The hard washboard of her torso was framed by an opening of a grey hoodie and barely much else, just the thick band of her boxers peeking from her sweatpants, and the black of a cropped tank top that stopped right below her bra line. 

“Jordan… is typically a good guy, but when he gets drunk he’s a total POS.” Abby was sallow-faced, pursing her lips, tension running through her jawline. “I shouldn’t have let him put you on the spot like that. So… I’m sorry that you got pressured to get in here.”

“It’s fine, I just.” You started, ready to say that big phrase, the one that slightly burned your back to admit. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“What, played seven minutes in heaven? Yeah, kind of a jackass thing to suggest in your twenties.”

Shit. She was going to make you say it. 

“No. I mean I’ve never–” and you thought your tiny voice couldn’t get any tinier. “had sex before.” 

Abby breathed in the deepest sigh, pure anxiety crossing her face for a split second, before she was feeding you apologies. “It’s fine, we don’t have to do anything we can just sit here and talk. Or be in silence if you want it’s alr–”

“I want to do it.” You said doggedly, pressing yourself into a tiny corner. Her brow perched, and there was something in those narrowing blue eyes that said she didn’t believe you. You were pigeontoed, legs shifting against one another, declaring in your firmest voice that you wanted her to take your virginity. 

“Are you sure?” She breathed out, stepping a bit closer. “You don’t have to feel pressured to do anything because you think they want a show.”

“Oh, my god.” You were pouting, annoyed. “I can choose if I want to have sex you know, and I want to have sex right here right n–”

She kissed you, softly as possible, testing your waters to see how far you were willing to go. Her hands were patient, one lightly knotted in the woolen knit of your cardigan to lightly pet your lower back, the other making gentle grips on your sweatered arm. Her fingers were barely bruising, gripping around your wrist almost tight enough, and a tiny shockwave coursed between your thighs and convinced you that you wanted more. In this low light, in this dark room, in this place between space and time, you wanted to be her conquest. To be taken, touched, manhandled, to be made to weather the storm of her overwhelming strength against you, lost in the middle of the ocean.

It was perverted, almost, how the idea of her showing restraint raised hairs on your skin, how you deepened the kiss like you were being overcome with an insatiable, bloody hunger. You had to take back the moment, to steal her attention in a way she couldn’t deny before she thought you were all talk; you stepped closer, positioning yourself so that her thigh hovered right below the heated space under your skirt. Her hand was warm, soft as you grabbed it, moving it lower, deeper down the divot of your back and where the fat of your ass connected. She caught on, groaning into your lips as she kneaded around your body, her tongue sweeter and heavier against yours, working that one damned hand up your skirt to cup bare skin. 

You jumped. 

As fast as it had come, her hand slipped back from under your skirt and the touch was lost completely, awkwardly hovering for a second until Abby pulled it back into her pocket and stepped back. You were miserable, eyes welling up in frustration like a lost dog at the lack of feeling. She was pulling you into insanity but was too chivalrous to drown you in it, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly as she looked down at you.

“Fuck– didn’t mean to be aggressive like that. I–” The redness bled across her cheeks, freckles on full display as her fingers met the wet spot that you were hiding, your hands guiding hers to the space between your thighs. There was a pause, a knowing, a challenge between the two of you as an unknown heat spread throughout your bodies, and you collided once more. The blonde’s mouth sucked a nasty pressure into your throat, agitating it with bites and licks as her head traveled deeper, hands playing at the front of your sweatered torso to undo the buttons that held your breasts hostage. 

Her entrance was assured as she popped the loops open, fingers gripping the fabric of your camisole and lifting up, taking your bra with it. She nipped at the exposed flesh, heat from her mouth traveling directly to your vagina, clit throbbing hard with need. Abby engulfed a nipple with the wetness of her tongue, closing her lips around the rapidly hardening bud to pull it to full attention, chuckling as she scraped the flesh with her teeth. The wet head was replaced with her palms, each thumb and forefinger rolling one or the other. The sensitivity of the tiny flesh was insane, enough to make you whine out loud as she continued, better than anything you had ever done to yourself. 

You were biting your lip, eyes big and doe-like as you waded through your pleasure, soft pants heaving your chest. She fished it out from between your teeth and hooked it within her own, popping the plump flesh into her mouth as she pared yours with her tongue. You swore the room was spinning, a wetness slicking between your thighs, a drip positioned between two pairs of hungry lips. You could’ve spent all fifteen minutes– or an eternity, in this beautiful hell, giving and taking and relishing in a different, sort of strange type of want.

“Don’t stop.” You moaned in between stolen breaths, the blonde chasing your mouth each time you pulled away.

“For you, pretty?” Gripping you tighter for emphasis, pressing you closer into the wall, angling further between your spread legs. “Never.” 

It was like you were some weird intoxication to her, a drug that she couldn’t get enough of. How your ass molded right into the divots of her palms, those tiny moans that rang through the cage you two were in, the rapid beating of your heart rippling through your body. She wanted to peel your cardigan from your shoulders, wanted to shred your clothes from your body and take you however she liked, and make you feel better than you knew what to do with. Needed to make you scream and fuck you until you cried. But it was your first time, so she resigned to being gentle and soft, like you were a little deer in the forest, and she was trying to get close without scaring you off. so she would give you only what you needed. 

She didn’t have a lot of strong feelings about that nickname she had earned in sophomore year, War Machine, from all of the pretty girls she ran through and left unable to walk, unable to talk for a couple of days or more. but when Jordan said it, in front of you, in front of sweet and innocent, pretty and tiny *you* she could’ve reeled back and torn him apart. But she still didn’t want to scare you. So she had forced an alright, the one a child forces when they get scolded, and hid the burning in her palms that made her want to fight in the pocket of her pants. 

Your eyes bored x-rays through her formidable thighs as she bent her knees to squad before you, strong hands rubbing up and down your thighs with contrasting gentleness to the hard angles of her face, the brow that was crooked down slightly in concentration, the slightly parted lips playing with mischief as they took you in. You were frightened for just a second, until Abby looked up at you with sympathetic eyes, a hand leaving your thigh and linking with your fingers, guiding you to the base of her skull to envelop her honeyed strands. 

She was back at you, the darkness in your stomach leaking out as you palmed her head, and she ran her hands upward, more upward, until the ruffles of your cotton skirt were overturned in her palms. From the waist down, you were completely exposed, a wet spot working itself into your panties from your innermost recesses and a musky scent betraying your shyness. 

Abby pressed herself gently into the fabric, her fat lips creating a cool pressure against the hot flesh, her nose itching lightly into your pubis. You bucked your hips unconsciously, nearly fucking her face in your abandon. A vibration from her laugh traveled through you, nestled inside of you, and more wetness began to slick your channel. That friendly ache formed in your rapidly hardening clit, and a similar pain throbbed in your pinkie and middle finger. Her other hand moved up, gripping fistfuls of your ass, less forgiving now, and forcing a squeak from your lips. 

You were dumbstruck; a stranger’s hands all over you, mouth nearly on top of your sacred place, nearly leaking from sheer lust. She had barely done anything. Your jaw slacked, and in your mind you felt like a fool, lamenting how you thought your first time would be special. Soft circles rubbed into your inner thigh as she pulled your legs apart, peppering angel kisses throughout the little divots. 

“S’okay, baby.” Her voice was barely a whisper, a tiny encouragement that calmed the buzzing in your mind. “Tell me how you want me. I’m yours.” 

and you thought that declaration would destroy you,’ I’m yours.’ and it felt very, very real. 

“I want you to touch me.” You said, barely a whisper, nodding as she pressed her face to your thigh, sliding down your panties to about knee-level. It was as though she had seen heaven’s gate open, awestruck at the blood rushing to engorge your lips, how your clit stood on end without even being touched. The thatch of hair curling between your thighs and around your depths. She had to have a taste, and there wasn’t much room for second-guessing as she pressed her mouth to the hot spot and flattened her tongue directly against the wettest space.

Juicy noises slid from her mouth as she rolled your clit between her tongue and sucked sharply with her lips, and it was as though you could’ve sunk to the floor, the way your legs became distinctly not yours. It was enough, enough, not enough, then too much. It was like you were an endlessly gushing fountain as Abby’s wet, firm tongue parted your lips, dipping ever so lightly into your hole as she licked out a string of nectar from your drooling cunt. It was as though you were animated, possessed even, as your hands flew into her hair, pushing her head down further and further, to that release you chased violently and madly. 

Abby was humble, letting you guide her where you needed her; she was soft at first, but you didn’t want soft, you wanted more. 

She obliged. 

The blonde slipped her fingers between your thighs and parted your slit, opening up an endless, waiting tightness. She was intrepid, pressing through your clenching muscle and opening you up more than you had ever done; thick digits tearing through you, fucking your pussy at an unforgiving pace, concentration forming in the muscles of her neck. You hid an inhuman growl in the pit of your throat, in the crook of your sweatered elbow, and she moaned out, satisfied with that which she had created inside of you. You were fucking her face in a tight, dirty closet, calf propped over a muscled shoulder for support, the heel of your booties pressing into the wall, locking her in.

 It was as though the two of you were fighting, every roll of your hips she chased with her head, every time you shied away from the pleasure she held you harder, taking you even hungrier, diving deeper to a spot you didn’t know was there; every taut pull at her scalp met with an even tighter grip into the flesh of your plush ass. The pads of her fingers violated the sopping warmth of your cunt, and you clenched your stomach unwittingly, walls flexing, holding her hand there. Drool dripped from between her lips, pooling and soaking down into the fibres of an old shag rug, caked with dust and whatever else. 

Your own slipped between your lips before you could suck it back in, and the silver trail bounced, the way it does when it breaks, and the thick drop cascaded down her temple, getting lost in your brow. The piece that was yours snaked down your collarbone and between your breasts and somehow, you felt a connection. 

Abby snorted, sucked in a breath as her fingers left you empty. Fuck. She didn’t go for her face, wiping them on the skin of your pussy, they traveled upwards, firm grips on your ass. She rubbed the flesh as though she was throwing clay, stretching the skin between her rough fingers, calluses on her palms coasting over every bump and groove. She had found what she had wanted, craning her neck lower, lower, until you could just barely see her eyes. Her fingertips prodded, greedy, opening your lips, tongue leching against your soft fruit as though she was funneling the juices directly into her mouth. You thought your thighs would give out but she held you, stronger, and you fed her willingly. 

Her middle finger dipped down into the slit, collecting juices, stealing a breath from your lungs, you wanted to scream her name but it was caught inside of you, so you stood slack-jawed, fuck drunk as she abused your walls, fucking every ridge painfully slow. The tight hole stretched around the meatiness of her finger, and she hooked it as though she was searching, retreating from the warmth, slick with your nastiest of liquids. Again, she split your ass with one hand, and you clenched your tightest hole without thinking about it. 

“Don’t worry,” She said, muffled against your mound as she latched against it once more, “gonna help you so fucking good.” You were confused, but you trusted her, a complete stranger. For a second you began to ask what there was to worry about, but your mind was pried away from you as you felt the pressure of her coated fingertip tracing around your asshole. A gentle kiss played at the head of your pussy, comforting you as you nodded your head wildly, something of a ‘yes’ flying from your throat as her middle finger parted that threshold. 

Your mind exploded, head shooting straight up into the air, a small yelp burning into a silent open-mouthed cry. You were spinning, the room was spinning, your body heated up instantly. Then, the wet warmth traveled back to your clit, her opposite hand nestling two fingers into your aching, needy twat, her tongue lapping as her fingers resumed digging and that one damned finger fucked in and out of your tightest hole painfully slow. 

She fucked you like an animal; you cried out like a bitch in heat. The music trembled through your ears, and you were afraid it wouldn’t be enough, that everyone would hear, everyone would know. You were both drunk and this didn’t matter, didn’t mean anything, but she was bottoming her tongue out in you and you wanted it to mean a lot. Girls talked and you fucking hated them all. She was loose, she got around, and you wanted to be hers. 

You wanted to capture her and be interesting to her and walk with her hand on your lower back around campus. Wanted her callused fist in your hair, around your neck as she took you every night. Wanted badly to fucking cum, to open the portal, to wash her face with this unholy water, wanted to kiss wet lips and taste everything. Wanted to know if she could ever like you, after you gave it up, quickly, bellowing like a foghorn against a rack of coats. You wanted to be kept, to keep her spit inside of you like a keepsake but she sucked it back in a quick second, before you could even feel her cheeks hollow between your thighs, and felt dirty for even thinking of it. 

A sweet pain formed between your thighs and you couldn’t stop the groan that rose from your throat, every muscle in your face clenching and unclenching, your eyes crossing as your orgasm came quickly into view. Abby fucked you through it, fingers slow and forgiving. It was as though a stream of slowly descending tidal waves were crashing against you, and you needed more, it hurt but you needed more. Something deep burned inside of you, endlessly hot, and you wondered how she could stand the heat as she hit it over and over again.  You sobbed, and swore that you could feel a tear roll down your cheek, feeling the need to rub your eyes for good measure.  

She looked up, entranced, face softening for a second, watching as you gave up your mind to your body. There was a hard knock at the door, the music lowered a decibel, silence filling the two of you, her fingers still deep inside of your two holes. A sing-song voice bellowed out ‘five minutes!’ and the darkness ridged her eyes. 

For the first time, her voice was hard, removing her hand from your cunt, making sure to curl the one in your ass tighter in compensation. She slammed the door twice with her fist, the frame bulging in a way that made you fear the whole thing would just fall down. “Fuck off.” Her voice was loud enough to tear through the uncomfortable tension. There was an apprehensive, ‘woah man,’ that you could barely hear, and the music regained, the party rejoiced, and hopefully, the fear of God being struck enough in your host to leave well enough alone. 

Her lips were still slick, soft, kissable with your juices. She flashed you a genuine, pretty smile.  Her hands gripped a little too tight but you wanted it all. She looked down at the mess between your trembling thighs, then at your heavy, panting face. She leaned back on her heels as a wide smile played on her face, satisfied with herself. A windy chuckle passed through her glistening lips, wiping her mouth and chin on the inside of her hoodie. “Fuckin’ insane.” She breathed out in between pants. 

“Abby.” She said, as though the strength of your orgasm traveled through your brain and made you forget the events of the last 15 minutes. “Constance Hall. Dorm 425 on the second floor.” It was as though your heart skipped a beat, but you punched it down, a weak smile playing against your lips. 

She was fucking disheveled, almost inhaling the last sweet smells of your pussy, creating a memory of the flavour and filing it away in her mind for safekeeping. She was delicate, pulling your white panties up to your thighs again, soothing a finger where those soft, curly pussy hairs were hidden again. She let down her hands, skirt furling down, covering the marks of dark possession that she left behind. “Come see me again sometime, ‘kay?” She chuckled, giggled even, and that glint in her eyes was enough to make you faint. 

She stood up, waiting for you to compose yourself and straighten everything out before she pushed open the now-unlocked door and peeked her head out.

Jordan was already on her as the door flew open, and you could hear his hushed nosiness as you hugged the wall and tried to act casual, eyes locked on her retreating back as she reentered the room, light haloing her. ‘So what happened?’ you swore his lips read, and your stomach dropped. But she cut through his questions, loud enough for you to hear, convincing enough that he wouldn’t have anything to run his mouth about later on. 

“Nothing man, we were just talking.”

Maybe she was actually just that charming. 

Yeah.

[pabuelito]

Carnival date /w jjk men!

ִ ࣪𖤐 synopsis: Going on a Carnival date with jjk men! Which is their favorite ride?

ִ ࣪𖤐 pairing: Gojo,Geto,Megumi,Yuji,Choso,Sukuna,Nanami,Toji x reader

ִ ࣪𖤐 Cont: Fluff, Sukuna being Sukuna,shared kiss ^^, just jjk men being cute

ִ ࣪𖤐 Note: This took longer then I wanted it to take and I wanted to post this yesterday but I couldn’t finish it in time(sob) but 2nd fic yay!! I had a lot of fun writing this

Satoru:

ִ ࣪𖤐 Roller Coasters

Let’s be real Gojo would love any ride, he loves the thrill. When you, his partner suggested that you and him go on this one roller coaster with a huge drop, his smile only grew wider suggesting that you and him sit on the front of the ride. If you’re scared this only causes Gojo’s ego to grow even higher.

“If you’re scared you can hold my hand~” you might just have to knock some sense into him. Once the ride goes off he’s having the time of his life swinging his arms in the air while you (the one who suggested the ride) is holding onto the rail for dear life closing your eyes and screaming just as loud as Gojo’s screams of delight. All of a sudden the ride starts to go slow and everyones gone somewhat quiet and for a second you think the ride is over…That’s till you open your eyes and realize that the big drop you talked about is just about to happen. You turn your head to face Gojo and he has the biggest smile on his face..He’s having the time of his life. As soon as you reach the top part of the ride before the big drop you brace yourself by grabbing one of Gojo’s hand, squeezing it, earning a laugh out of him. Before you know it you’re screaming the loudest you’ve ever been. The drop is fast and it almost knocks the wind out of you. Gojo on the other hand is laughing and screaming, One of his arms (The other one occupied with your hand) swinging in the air. 

The ride ended faster than you thought it would. you didn’t mind at all your hair all messed up from the wind, you turn to face your boyfriend smirking at you. 

“Let’s do that again~!” 

You’re in for a hell of a ride..

Suguru:

ִ ࣪𖤐 Droppers

Geto likes rides with thrill and where he can hold you(somewhat). He likes to see you hold onto him because you’re scared, So when You and him are walking around the park a ride catches his eyes, the dropper. He sees how close the chairs are next to each other and realizes that he can hold your hand on that ride while enjoying himself just as much.

“Hey love Let’s go on that ride” and with that he’s grabbing you by the arm with a smile on his face as he pulls you to the ride. The dropper that he picked isn’t like some baby one…It’s a tall one very tall almost making you nervous. As expected you and Suguru sit right next to each other, one of your arms holding onto the rail while the other one is already interlocked into his. The ride starts off slow building up to the big climax as you reach the very top of the ride, the ride stops and you’re just dangling at the top of the ride. Suguru gives you a smile and you swear he set this all up because the next moment the ride drops and you're screaming your lungs out. Suguru feels your hand tighten against his which makes him smile through his screams as well the plan worked. He can’t tell if the butterfly feeling is from the drop or from how adorable you look to him right now holding onto him for dear life either way he’s enjoying himself. 

When you reach the bottom you're shaken up, you look like you’ve seen a ghost which only makes Suguru laugh as he removes a piece of hair from your face, his hand never leaving yours. He almost contemplates going on the ride again but he won’t make you suffer unless you wanna do it again. 

Carnivals might have just become one of his new favorite things.~

Megumi:

ִ ࣪𖤐 Ferris wheels

Megumi isn’t a rides person, he doesn't like the butterfly feeling he gets in his stomach. Don’t get him wrong though if you really wanted to go on a ride with him then he would go on it with you, anything to make his partner happy. 

“Gumi! Let’s go on that!” You're pointing at the big Ferris wheel at the end of the carnival taking his arm dragging him to the ride. Megumi gets on it first then takes your hand and helps you onto the ride(what a gentleman~). Megumi doesn’t like fast rides either so when the ferris wheel is slow it puts his mind at ease so he can relax for a bit. You and him make small talk and hold hands enjoying each other's company when you reach the top and look out onto the rest of the carnival. 

“Gumi look!” He looks down to see the beautiful sight of the night time carnival lights lighting up the place, but the only thing he’s admiring right now is you. The way the lights make your face shine brighter and your features all the more beautiful it makes Megumi smile, the real beautiful thing on this ride is you~. You break out of your trance when you feel a hand slowly make you face him as Megumi places a kiss onto your lips. You swear this moment feels like something out of a fairytale: the lights, the kiss, everything. When Megumi pulls away you can see the hint of blush tinted on his cheeks and the small smile he has plastered on his face. When the ride is over you and him both have smiles on your faces, holding hands. You guys walk around and take in the pretty lights of the carnival, his eyes glued onto you the whole time.

For Megumi you were the most beautiful thing here.

Yuji:

ִ ࣪𖤐 Teacups/Bumpercarts

Yuji loves all the rides. This kid will go on anything and everything, but the thing he loves the most is the teacups/Bumper carts. Yuji is already a super strong kid and he has a lot of stamina as well so when you both get on the teacup ride thinking this was going to be something wholesome boy were you wrong. 

“Yu! Slow down!” you have to hold onto the chair for dear life because this kid is spinning you guys so fast you fear you might just fall off the ride. No doubt you would go faster than the rest of the others. Yuji was strong and he could make you guys spin fast but you didn't think it would be this fast. You almost feel your heart flying out your chest by the time you’re done with the ride, and boy are you dizzy. Yuji on the other hand seems like he could go again with a huge smile spread across his face. Maybe you guys should go on another ride for now. 

So you and Yuji try the bumpercarts next. He could never go against you so you and him both sit in the same cart together with him holding onto the wheel and you better have your seatbelt on. These poor little kids don’t know what they have coming because Yuji is booking it out of there and bumping into everyone aggressively making you shake around the cart. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea either… You swear this is something you see out of Tokyo drift with the way your boyfriend is driving, you better be careful or you're going to get major whiplash..

Safe to say those kids won’t ever mess with you and Yuji again in bumpercarts. Once you got off the ride despite the dizziness and the major whiplash you probably got, your boyfriend had a huge smile on his face which made you smile.

As long as Yuji is happy then you’re happy too.

Choso:

ִ ࣪𖤐 Ballistic swing

Choso isn’t a ride person either, he doesn't really understand the concept plus people screaming nor does he like the feeling he gets in his body when he does get on one of those rides. That said one ride he would go on with you is the Ballistic swing(silly name). The ride is just right, it’s not too fast, not too high, and the best part is that he gets to sit right next to you on the ride.

“Cho we should go on that~” You point at the ride your hands interlocked with his as you give him a big smile he can’t say no to. As you guys wait in line for the ride he can’t help but feel a little nervous. He doesn't know what to expect from the ride and he doesn't know if he’ll like it or not. That’s till you guys both get on the ride and he holds your hand expecting the worst, you just give him and smile and kick your feet back and forth off the little swing.

The ride goes off slowly with a nice pace, Choso never once letting go of your hand. Then the ride slowly starts to get faster and the swings get higher but he doesn't feel bad. He’s actually enjoying himself on this ride and even better is that you’re enjoying yourself on this ride as well, kicking your feet back and forth with a bright smile on your face. Choso will never get rid of that sight for as long as he lives in his eyes, you're the prettiest sight to see and he loves how close he feels to you right now. The way the wind plays with your hair, it feels nice on his skin and maybe this ride isn’t so bad after all he truly is enjoying himself. You feel your hand tighten a little under his touch so when you turn your head to face Choso and notice the smile he has plastered on his face you better take a mental screenshot and keep that forever cause if he thought you were pretty he looks even prettier now.

Once you and him eventually get off the ride(if he doesn't go on it 20 more times) he still has that smile on his face, still holding your hand. 

Maybe another go won’t hurt right?

Sukuna:

ִ ࣪𖤐 The zipper

It takes a lot of convincing to even get Sukuna to go to the carnival with you and when he does he sees no point in this. That saying he will go on every ride…He’ll get on them with a straight face and not let out a sound. This man really doesn’t fear anything. The only thing you see on his face is a smirk when he hears the screams of fear around him(what is wrong with him). Then a ride catches his eyes which is the zipper he sees how the ride flips and makes the people on it turn upside down which excites him and for once he’s looking forward to this ride. 

“Hey brat let’s do that one.” You turn your hair to expect another roller coaster till you see the zipper and you shake your head.

“No way..” Before you can protest more he’s pulling you by the arm and you're getting on the ride with him, the doors locked behind you both tightly strapped in. Sukuna has a smile on his face. He's looking forward to this while you on the other hand already want to leave the ride. Sukuna doesn’t even offer his hand when the ride goes off leaving you to hold onto the rails for dear life(how dare he). In a blink of an eye you at the top part of the ride hung upside down screaming your lungs out as they rode you back and forth making you hang upside down at one point then up straight the next. For Sukuna this is the first time he’s felt real thrill. Sure the other rides made his heart skip some beats but not like this one, this one excited him a lot, the screams, the thrill, he was really enjoying himself on this one. The best part of it all was the look on your face and you trying to desperately cling to him. He doesn't pull away and lets you cling to his arm while the ride does the last phase and comes to an end.

Once you get off you give him the dirtiest look that almost makes him laugh. He just rolls his eyes in between a smirk and finally takes your arm into his again looking the other way.

“Don’t be such a baby brat”

Toji:

ִ ࣪𖤐 Anyride

A simple man who doesn't like carnivals sees them as a waste of money so as long as you’re paying he’s going. Toji is a guy that will go on any ride really, he doesn't really care to find them all the same but he does enjoy himself. Seeing you scream or smile is enough to satisfy him and if anything he’s really there for the carnival food. 

“Are you done?” You swear just one more ride and that turns into ten. Toji likes the time spent with you. There are days where he is so busy with his work that he doesn’t have the time to spend with you. On the days where he gets to spend time with you he doesn’t care where you guys are going as long as he’s with you and you're enjoying yourself(plus your paying he’s not complaining).. He would walk around the carnival and take in the pretty lights(that’s if you guys go at night). When you decide that you're done with the rides for now and you guys can finally eat, your wallet is going to cry.

“Hey try this”

Nanami:

ִ ࣪𖤐 doesn’t really go on rides

Doesn’t go on rides he doesn't like them,, doesn’t like the feeling he gets and doesn’t really like the thrill which is why it’s a shock he agreed to go on this date with you. He just likes to walk around, he likes to hold onto your hand and take in the pretty place. If you wanted to go on a ride then he would try his best and get on the ride with you but don’t expect him to look his best when he comes off of it..Bro looks like he’s seen a ghost. Nanami loves you more than anything so no matter how scared he is or if he just hates the feeling in his stomach he would try his best to ride with you, anything for the love of his life. That's till you and him are walking around the park and he keeps seeing you eye this one huge bear plushie, and all of a sudden he’s made it his mission to get you that plushie. 

“Do you want that bear love?” Little does he know that all these games are rigged and it would take forever to get something like that.. 

A few games later and he still hasn’t won that bear yet you can’t help but have a slight smile on your face with your boyfriend trying too hard to win you something from a clearly rigged game. 

“Dear..It’s okay you shouldn’t keep wasting your money” You laugh while enjoying this a little too much. Nanami actually seems like he’s in distress(please save your boyfriend from going into debt). 

When it plays like forever he finally makes a hoop in. Thinking he would win the big bear that you were looking at, he's proud of himself till the worker hands him the smallest bear there and the look on his face is priceless. He’s bewildered and a little disappointed taking the plushie with you and walking away.

“I’ll buy you the biggest bear plush you’ve ever seen just you wait love.”

[simplyholl]

Out of My System Pt. 1

Summary: Loki doesn’t understand Thor’s attraction to Midgardians. Until he meets you.

Pairing: Avenger Loki x F. Avenger Reader

Warnings: Eventual smut.

W/C: 1K

See my Masterlist here

You were sitting beside Loki just like you did every movie night, a large bowl of popcorn perched in his lap for sharing. You jumped and screamed so loud, when the monster grabbed the woman on the screen that it even startled Loki, who almost dropped the snack in the floor.

You reached for his hand, entwining your fingers with his long skinny digits. He stayed still for just a moment unsure of how to react to your touch. You felt him relax against you, accepting the affection. Each time, a scary part came on you would hide your face against his arm. He began to anticipate it. He wrapped his arm around you snuggling you closer. Now you could press your face against his broad chest.

You laid your ear against him, listening to the rhythmic sound of his heart beating. You had only been this close to the mischievous god while training. Otherwise, your friendship never crossed any unspoken boundaries. You were surprised how he had welcomed your touch. He wasn’t huge on affection, shying away from hugs, shoulder pats, even handshakes which surprised you. He only shook the hand of business men Stark needed him to schmooze, and only when necessary.

The movie was over too soon. The loss of warmth his body provided made you shiver as you walked to your room. Hurrying to your bed, your mind ran wild with thoughts of the creature from that horrible movie waiting for you underneath, grabbing your feet as you walked by and dragging you under there with it. You got under the blankets covering up every inch of skin. You were an Avenger for crying out loud. You had fought villains way scarier than the monster in the movie.

Still you couldn’t help the thoughts of it waiting to get you as soon as you peaked out from under the blanket. You heard the floor creak and you swear you stopped breathing for a second. Relax! It’s probably somebody walking in the hall. You squeeze your eyes shut willing yourself to fall asleep.

You convince yourself you feel someone staring at you. You give yourself a little pep talk slinging the heavy blanket off your face and retrieving your phone off your nightstand. You get back in your cocoon. You pull up the contact on your phone praying he answers.

“H..hello?” his groggy voice comes over the line and you’ve never been more grateful to hear anyone. “Loki, I need you to come to my room right now.” your voice barely comes out as a whisper. You are trying to stay quite just in case that creature can hear you.

“Darling, it’s three in the morning. I can barely hear you. This is not a good prank.” Click. He ended the call before you could ask for help. You dial his number again. He answers on the third ring. You decide you better make this call count so you start frantically yelling into your phone. “Loki, please don’t hang up! I know it’s three AM, but it’s the witching hour! That means this thing is gonna be that much stronger!! I need you to get in here right now before it kills me!”

You hear your door fling open. You stick your head out from your fortress. Loki is standing in your room, daggers in hand assessing the situation. “Where is it?” he growls. You can’t help the giggles erupting. He looks at you, confusion clearly eating him up.

“Promise you won’t be mad?” “I will make no such promise. Tell me what is so funny about your life being in danger.” You take a deep breath trying to suppress your laughter. “I kept thinking about that movie and I freaked myself out. I convinced myself it was in here with me. So there’s no real danger.”

Loki sighs heavily, running his hands through his slept on curls. He sets his daggers on your nightstand. “You said it was going to kill you.” “Sorry, I was being dramatic. I just didn’t want to be alone because I was scared. I didn’t expect you to burst in here like that. But since you’re here, do you mind staying with me? I know I’m safe with you here.” Loki agrees walking toward your couch.

“Can you sleep in the bed with me, please? I really freaked myself out and I just need to know that you’re right here if I need you.” He gets in beside you, and every fear fades into the darkness as you press your back against his chest. His arm rests against your stomach.

Loki planned to leave right after you fell asleep. He was sure he wouldn’t rest well, if at all. So he was surprised when the sun light peaked through your window and woke him the next morning. He was shocked to find your warm body still snuggled in so closely to his. He had only wrapped his arms around you to comfort you. He didn’t think he would be so reluctant to remove them.

He took the time to study your features. How your hair was a tangled mess even though it seemed like you hadn’t moved at all through the night. How the sun light made your face look almost angelic. He took note of how comfortable he was beside you. And that terrified him. That thought alone was enough motivation for him to go back to his own rooms.

Loki was sure he would never share Thor’s love for Midgardians. He didn’t understand his attraction to them. After Thor and Jane broke up, Thor had successfully seduced every woman he came across. It made Loki sick. He and his brother were gods. Midgardians were beneath them.

Loki waited until their trips to Asgard to sleep around. Those so called models paled in comparison to the goddesses back home. He had never thought highly of any person from Earth, until you.

You stumbled into his life and turned it upside down. You weren’t repulsive. You were beautiful. You weren’t ignorant, but intelligent. You were kind to him, when the rest of the pathetic planet either feared him or hated him. Loki had quickly offered you something he didn’t give lightly to any other person on Earth - his companionship.

Part Two

Tags (as always if you want to be added or removed let me know!)

@lokisgoodgirl @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @ozymdias @cindylynn @potter-puff007 @cakesandtom @eleniblue @muddyorbsblr @marygoddessofmischief @coldnique @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @lokisninerealms @wheredafandomat @peaches1958 @freegardenbanananeck @chantsdemarins @lokidokieokie @anukulee @sheris532 @multifandom-worlds @lokixryss @javagirl328 @assemblingavenger @lilibet261 @lemonadygirl @joyofbebbanburg

[magnifythesun]

Hiii so mexican salsa YES this post is a prompt! Feel free to change it to whatever you like, but I'd love a lil' story like this:

Ian and anthony are both very obviously in love and the whole smoffice knows it, but them lmao! I'd love this fic to be just text messages or slack posts or sth, where the cast and crew report of sightings of Ian and anthony doing very ianthony stuff and not realize it themselves. Maybe they come up w a way to show or nudge them in the right direction? But Ian and Anthony will still make it a bro moment (broment) bc they think the other one just wants to be bros LMAO ~ Japhan2024 💖

@japhan2024 FANTASTIC IDEA I have to believe that the Smosh cast legit has a secret group chat for stuff like this hahaha the looks on their faces whenever Ian and Anthony do something shippy is priceless

im going to wrack my brain for my favorite moments lolol I hope you enjoy!

(mid writing note: i first wrote basically all texts but it wasn't quite flowing the way i wanted it to so now there's a little more prose lol. this also taught me i do NOT know enough crew members' names)

read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56346769

---

It took Erin less than ten minutes to create The Group Chat following the slapping video caress incident.

Erin: "okay so what the fuck"

Tommy: "i'm beside myself."

Angela: "SO WE'RE FINALLY TALKING ABOUT IT"

It began, and all hell broke loose from there.

Most of the cast and crew didn't know Anthony too well when he first returned, but everyone could tell Ian began to positively glow once he came back. It had started mostly with little under-the-breath comments about how big Ian had smiled at something Anthony did, or shared glances after they looked lost in each other's worlds. It's not that everyone wanted to speculate about their bosses, but rather that their bosses were practically giving them no choice.

The real watershed moment was the birth of The Group Chat, which finally provided an outlet for all ianthony incidents witnessed by the cast and crew.

---

Shayne: "Please tell me how Anthony managed to turn his smosh cast interview into an hour of us complimenting Ian."

Tommy: "i swear he practices in his car on the way to work"

---

Erin: "not them discussing deepthroating injuries for like three whole minutes..."

Erin: "while Anthony sucks on his rainbow lollipop......"

Chanse: "they are not beating the allegations"

---

Josh: "So this is I think the fourth video I've edited where Anthony has called Ian daddy??"

Josh: "WHAT is the thought process. I just can't put it together. is Anthony just like yeah I'm going to call my bro daddy about seventeen separate times with varying levels of seriousness and that's good and het and normal."

Erin: "Josh, istg you don't see the half of it. Come watch them film and pay special attention when the cameras are OFF."

---

Erin: "im losing it"

Arasha: "oh god. what happened"

Erin: "i am not fucking kidding right now anthony just called him submissive and breedable."

Keith: "WHAT"

Erin: "he said what he said."

Angela: "BREEDABLE????????????"

Erin: "in front of god and everyone."

Angela: "BREEDABLE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!"

---

Tommy: "catching up on the main channel sketches and i just have to ask"

Tommy: "How many men can Ian date in his sketches until he realizes he'd like to date one in real life?"

Chanse: "don't SPEAK to me about it"

---

Tommy: "bicurious, hmm? Ian would you like to share something with the class???"

Chanse: "hes so deep in the mental closet his art is trying to scream it at him through his subconscious."

Chanse: "ive been there 😞"

Josh: "I've never been more prepared to edit a video in my whole life"

---

Angela: "Erinnnn not u directing them to stand closer together 😭😭"

Erin: "look I'm at my wits end. I'm thinking forced proximity might do it"

Keith: "if that could work they would have gotten it during kissing currency 😙💸"

Shayne: "@ courtney is this your thought process behind wanting a kissing video"

Courtney: "HA"

Courtney: "yes."

---

Courtney: "okay so if our plan at this point is just to make them read so many fanfics about themselves out loud that they spontaneously realize they're in love, we've got to find some fics that don't contain the word 'cummies'"

Angela: "what are cummies?? 😇"

Shayne: "ANGELA I SWEAR TO GOD"

---

As the incidents kept piling up, a plot began to form. Maybe Anthony and Ian were just so oblivious that they all needed to adopt a certain 'push-comes-to-shove' mentality, and do what had to be done. Everyone agreed, they had to find a way to put them in such a charged situation that this would all finally boil over, and the astounding tension that had plagued the office would be resolved. The ultimate achievement of this long-weary Group Chat.

Erin: "okay so one more time. everyone has talked with HR, yes? and everyone slated for the vid is comfortable with the concept of spin the bottle"

Angela: "what's spin the bottle? 😇"

Tommy: "STOP"

Shayne "1) Yes for the thousandth time, we promise. 2) What the FUCK are we going to do if this bottle never lands on Anthony and Ian"

Erin: "I will keep this shoot going as long as necessary."

Shayne: "That sounds like a threat?"

Chanse: "I'm suddenly regretting my decision. May I take my week's vacation right now?"

---

Erin: "how..."

Courtney: "did you see the look in their eyes????? :O"

Angela: "FATE WAS ON OUR SIDE. IT LANDED ON THEM THREE WHOLE TIMES"

Erin: "yes but,,,,,"

Tommy: "don't speak to me I'm still reeling"

Keith: "oh please don't tell me it didn't work."

Chanse: "i just have one question. how did they kiss THREE TIMES and still not realize."

Courtney: "they were both practically levitating from giddiness"

Arasha: "they just kept looking away from each other and laughing it off... they didn't see each other's expressions 😭😭"

Angela: "guys. guys"

Erin: "what"

Angela: "do u know what this means"

Angela: "now that we've pushed them over this hurdle... They're going to start bro kissing in their sketches"

Chanse: "oh my god"

Josh: "oh fuck you're right"

Erin: "that's it."

Erin: "im quitting smosh"

Amanda: "Oh hey guys! We have a group chat?"

Shayne:

[mars-ipan]

God I feel you on this. There are so many avenues for people to get sucked into bullshit infighting too.

I s2g every time I engage with trans content my for you feed starts serving me a ton of discourse about intercommunity transandrophobia or w/e and like... if people are being weird about trans men that's worth talking about sometimes, but I get the impression there are corners of the trans community that are doing nothing but scream at each other in some pointless transmasc vs transfem war. Meanwhile I'm sitting here on TERF island, transfem people right beside me, hoping our HRT and shaky legal rights don't get nuked in the next 5 years 💀

I feel like a general online discourse rule should be that if you're putting more energy into fighting your own community/policing language/etc than fighting people that materially affect our lives, something's gone wrong and you're at high risk of radicalisation into bigotry. Or might already be there.

ghhrgh LITERALLY….. like .

from what i’ve seen a lot of this transandrophobia debate came up in response to seeing trans women talk about transmisogyny. my theory is that a portion of tme folks saw that people have been discussing transmisogyny and felt that they were having their unique experiences erased. which, like, look . i get it. erasure is something i’ve experienced kinda my whole life. i understand that it feels Bad to have your struggles downplayed. i had that same worry at first. BUT. we GOTTA be able to examine how your own fears and anxieties and biases may be coloring your perceptions!!! bc yes being trans does not make you immune to transmisogyny!! we live in a transmisogynistic world implicit bias is Going To Happen.

like. transmisogyny is a real thing that happens and disproportionately affects transfems. transmisogyny is not something non-transfem people experience unless they are falsely perceived to be transfem. it is a uniquely transfeminine experience coming from the intersection of being trans and female (or female-adjacent). it is not just a unique kind of transphobia, but rather the intentional combination of transphobia and misogyny.

is this to say that transmascs don’t experience their own unique kind of oppression? no! but it’s not an intersectional oppression and it shouldn’t be treated as such. also, the name of “transandrophobia” just gives off. a really uncomfortable energy. you’re not being oppressed because you’re male. you’re being oppressed because you’re trans. i don’t feel like we need to give this type of transphobia a name because it is just transphobia. similar to how misogynoir is a word but we don’t have a word for the specific type of oppression black men face because that’s just racism. just because transphobia impacts you in a certain way doesn’t mean it’s a special type of transphobia, and really why are we playing oppression olympics in the first place? we’re ALL hurting. can we just like… help each other out? can we stop accusing transfems of like…. deliberately trying to overshadow transmasc issues or whatever? and for the love of god if we have to argue can we STOP misgendering and degendering each other mid-argument.

like. at the end of the day this is all trivial shit because In Real Life we’re being targeted by horribly cruel legislation and social movements. it’s like we’re in a burning house and i’m watching my brother and sister argue over black mold. like yes that’s a problem but i think !!!! we should focus on putting out the fire !!!! like i live in texas. lawmakers have been trying to pass anti-trans bills here for ages, and a couple of them have gone through! i remember being sat down in gsa in my freshman year of high school and having the club sponsors tell us that if a bill that was up for ratification mandating that teachers out their students to their parents was passed that they would do everything in their power to keep us safe. i have to be careful about how i dress when i go to certain places. and i’m not even someone who’s transitioning medically— lord knows what kind of bullshit hurdles people on hrt have to go through to get it. and we’re arguing over what we want to call our oppression? we’re all facing transphobia at the end of the day can we PLEASE fix that instead of dividing ourselves into little easy-to-eliminate factions please and thank you

[whencyclopedia]

Sioux Warrior Rain-in-the-Face (Eastman's Biography)

Rain-in-the-Face (Ite Omagazu, l. c. 1835-1905) was a Lakota Sioux warrior and war chief during Red Cloud's War (1866-1868) and at the Battle of the Little Bighorn (1876), after which he became famous as the man who killed Lt. Col. George Armstrong Custer, his brother Capt. Thomas Custer, or both of them.

How Rain-in-the-Face first became identified as Custer's killer is unclear, but the claim was popularized by the poem The Revenge of Rain-in-the-Face by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow – the bestselling American poet of his age – published in Keramos and Other Poems (1878). Although modern-day writers cite the poem as claiming Rain-in-the-Face killed Thomas Custer, it seems clear "White Chief with yellow hair" (line 9 of the poem) alludes to George Custer, and it is George's heart, not Thomas's, that Rain-in-the-Face rides off with at the end of the piece.

Rain-in-the-Face is best known today from two accounts of his life and the part he played at the Battle of the Little Bighorn – the 1894 report given by American journalist W. Kent Thomas based on an "interview" given at Coney Island, and the 1905 biography by the Sioux author and physician Charles A. Eastman (also known as Ohiyesa, l. 1858-1939) – which contradict each other.

In the Thomas interview, Rain-in-the-Face claims he killed Thomas Custer, cut out his heart, and spat part of it in his face at Little Bighorn as revenge for being unjustly arrested by Capt. Custer in 1874. In Eastman's account, he denies killing either of the brothers and, further, describes the Battle of Little Bighorn as so chaotic no one could have known who they had killed for certain.

As the W. Kent Thomas interview was given after the journalist got Rain-in-the-Face drunk, for the express purpose of getting the "real story" on Custer's death, while Eastman's account is a respectful transcript of the old warrior's life story, the latter is usually understood as more historically accurate.

Text

The following is taken from Eastman's Indian Heroes and Great Chieftains (1916), the 1939 edition, republished in 2016. It has been edited in the interests of space, but the full account will be found below in the External Links section.

The noted Sioux warrior, Rain-in-the-Face, whose name once carried terror to every part of the frontier, died at his home on the Standing Rock reserve in North Dakota on September 14, 1905. About two months before his death, I went to see him for the last time, where he lay upon the bed of sickness from which he never rose again, and drew from him his life-history.

It had been my experience that you cannot induce an Indian to tell a story, or even his own name, by asking him directly.

"Friend," I said, "even if a man is on a hot trail, he stops for a smoke! In the good old days, before the charge there was a smoke. At home, by the fireside, when the old men were asked to tell their brave deeds, again the pipe was passed. So come, let us smoke now to the memory of the old days!"

He took of my tobacco and filled his long pipe, and we smoked. Then I told an old mirthful story to get him in the humor of relating his own history.

The old man lay upon an iron bedstead, covered by a red blanket, in a corner of the little log cabin. He was all alone that day; only an old dog lay silent and watchful at his master's feet.

Finally, he looked up and said with a pleasant smile:

"True, friend; it is the old custom to retrace one's trail before leaving it forever! I know that I am at the door of the spirit home.

"I was born near the forks of the Cheyenne River, about seventy years ago…When I was a boy, I loved to fight," he continued. "In all our boyish games I had the name of being hard to handle, and I took much pride in the fact.

"I was about ten years old when we encountered a band of Cheyenne. They were on friendly terms with us, but we boys always indulged in sham fights on such occasions, and this time I got in an honest fight with a Cheyenne boy older than I. I got the best of the boy, but he hit me hard in the face several times, and my face was all spattered with blood and streaked where the paint had been washed away. The Sioux boys whooped and yelled:

"‘His enemy is down, and his face is spattered as if with rain! Rain-in-the-Face! His name shall be Rain-in-the-Face!'

"Afterwards, when I was a young man, we went on a warpath against the Gros Ventres. We stole some of their horses but were overtaken and had to abandon the horses and fight for our lives. I had wished my face to represent the sun when partly covered with darkness, so I painted it half black, half red. We fought all day in the rain, and my face was partly washed and streaked with red and black: so again, I was christened Rain-in-the-Face. We considered it an honorable name.

"I had been on many warpaths, but was not especially successful until about the time the Sioux began to fight with the white man…

"Some , Crow King, and others.

"This was the plan decided upon after many councils. The main war party lay in ambush, and a few of the bravest young men were appointed to attack the woodchoppers who were cutting logs to complete the building of the fort. We were told not to kill these men, but to chase them into the fort and retreat slowly, defying the white men; and if the soldiers should follow, we were to lead them into the ambush. They took our bait exactly as we had hoped! It was a matter of a very few minutes, for every soldier lay dead in a shorter time than it takes to annihilate a small herd of buffalo.

"This attack was hastened because most of the Sioux on the Missouri River and eastward had begun to talk of suing for peace. But even this did not stop the peace movement. The very next year a treaty was signed at Fort Rice, Dakota Territory, by nearly all the Sioux chiefs, in which it was agreed on the part of the Great Father in Washington that all the country north of the Republican River in Nebraska, including the Black Hills and the Big Horn Mountains, was to be always Sioux country, and no white man should intrude upon it without our permission. Even with this agreement Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse were not satisfied, and they would not sign…

"It was when the white men found the yellow metal in our country, and came in great numbers, driving away our game, that we took up arms against them for the last time. I must say here that the chiefs who were loudest for war were among the first to submit and accept reservation life. Spotted Tail was a great warrior, yet he was one of the first to yield, because he was promised by the Chief Soldiers that they would make him chief of all the Sioux. Ugh! He would have stayed with Sitting Bull to the last had it not been for his ambition.

"About this time, we young warriors began to watch the trails of the white men into the Black Hills, and when we saw a wagon coming, we would hide at the crossing and kill them all without much trouble. We did this to discourage the whites from coming into our country without our permission…

"There were a few Indians who were liars, and never on the warpath, playing ‘good Indian' with the Indian agents and the war chiefs at the forts. Some of this faithless set betrayed me and told more than I ever did. I was seized and taken to the fort near Bismarck, North Dakota of the Long-Haired War Chief and imprisoned there. These same lying Indians, who were selling their services as scouts to the white man, told me that I was to be shot to death, or else hanged upon a tree. I answered that I was not afraid to die.

"However, there was an old soldier who used to bring my food and stand guard over me—he was a white man, it is true, but he had an Indian heart! He came to me one day and unfastened the iron chain and ball with which they had locked my leg, saying by signs and what little Sioux he could muster:

"‘Go, friend! Take the chain and ball with you. I shall shoot, but the voice of the gun will lie.'

"When he had made me understand, you may guess that I ran my best! I was almost over the bank when he fired his piece at me several times, but I had already gained cover and was safe. I have never told this before, and would not, lest it should do him an injury, but he was an old man then, and I am sure he must be dead long since. That old soldier taught me that some of the white people have hearts," he added, quite seriously.

"I went back to Standing Rock in the night, and I had to hide for several days in the woods, where food was brought to me by my relatives…

"In the spring the hostile Sioux got together again upon the Tongue River. It was one of the greatest camps of the Sioux that I ever saw…We had decided to fight the white soldiers until no warrior should be left."

At this point Rain-in-the-Face took up his tobacco pouch and began again to fill his pipe…

"There was excitement among the people, and a great council was held. Many spoke. I was asked the condition of those Indians who had gone upon the reservation, and I told them truly that they were nothing more than prisoners. It was decided to go out and meet Three Stars at a safe distance from our camp.

"We met him on the Little Rosebud. I believe that if we had waited and allowed him to make the attack, he would have fared no better than Custer. He was too strongly fortified where he was, and I think, too, that he was saved partly by his Indian allies, for the scouts discovered us first and fought us first, thus giving him time to make his preparations. I think he was more wise than brave! After we had left that neighborhood, he might have pushed on and connected with the Long-Haired Chief. That would have saved Custer and perhaps won the day.

"When we crossed from Tongue River to the Little Big Horn, on account of the scarcity of game, we did not anticipate any more trouble. Our runners had discovered that Crook had retraced his trail to Goose Creek, and we did not suppose that the white men would care to follow us farther into the rough country.

"Suddenly the Long-Haired Chief appeared with his men! It was a surprise."

"What part of the camp were you in when the soldiers attacked the lower end?" I asked.

"I had been invited to a feast at one of the young men's lodges . There was a certain warrior who was making preparations to go against the Crows, and I had decided to go also," he said.

"While I was eating my meat, we heard the war cry! We all rushed out and saw a warrior riding at top speed from the lower camp, giving the warning as he came. Then we heard the reports of the soldiers' guns, which sounded differently from the guns fired by our people in battle.

"I ran to my teepee and seized my gun, a bow, and a quiver full of arrows. I already had my stone war club, for you know we usually carry those by way of ornament. Just as I was about to set out to meet Reno, a body of soldiers appeared nearly opposite us, at the edge of a long line of cliffs across the river.

"All of us who were mounted and ready immediately started down the stream toward the ford. There were Ogallala, Miniconjou, Cheyenne, and some Hunkpapa, and those around me seemed to be nearly all very young men.

"‘Behold, there is among us a young woman!' I shouted. ‘Let no young man hide behind her garment!' I knew that would make those young men brave.

"The woman was Tashenamani, or Moving Robe, whose brother had just been killed in the fight with Three Stars. Holding her brother's war staff over her head, and leaning forward upon her charger, she looked as pretty as a bird. Always when there is a woman in the charge, it causes the warriors to vie with one another in displaying their valor," he added.

"The foremost warriors had almost surrounded the white men, and more were continually crossing the stream. The soldiers had dismounted and were firing into the camp from the top of the cliff."

"My friend, was Sitting Bull in this fight?" I inquired.

"I did not see him there, but I learned afterward that he was among those who met Reno, and that was three or four of the white man's miles from Custer's position. Later he joined the attack upon Custer but was not among the foremost.

"When the troops were surrounded on two sides, with the river on the third, the order came to charge! There were many very young men, some of whom had only a war staff or a stone war club in hand, who plunged into the column, knocking the men over and stampeding their horses.

"The soldiers had mounted and started back, but when the onset came, they dismounted again and separated into several divisions, facing different ways. They fired as fast as they could load their guns, while we used chiefly arrows and war clubs. There seemed to be two distinct movements among the Indians. One body moved continually in a circle, while the other rode directly into and through the troops.

"Presently some of the soldiers remounted and fled along the ridge toward Reno's position; but they were followed by our warriors, like hundreds of blackbirds after a hawk. A larger body remained together at the upper end of a little ravine and fought bravely until they were cut to pieces. I had always thought that white men were cowards, but I had a great respect for them after this day.

"It is generally said that a young man with nothing but a war staff in his hand broke through the column and knocked down the leader very early in the fight. We supposed him to be the leader, because he stood up in full view, swinging his big knife .

"After the first rush was over, coups were counted as usual on the bodies of the slain. You know, four coups is entitled to the ‘first feather.'

"There was an Indian here called Appearing Elk, who died a short time ago. He was slightly wounded in the charge. He had some of the weapons of the Long-Haired Chief, and the Indians used to say jokingly after we came upon the reservation that Appearing Elk must have killed the Chief, because he had his sword! However, the scramble for plunder did not begin until all were dead. I do not think he killed Custer, and if he had, the time to claim the honor was immediately after the fight.

"Many lies have been told of me. Some say that I killed the Chief, and others that I cut out the heart of his brother , because he had caused me to be imprisoned. Why, in that fight the excitement was so great that we scarcely recognized our nearest friends! Everything was done like lightning. After the battle, we young men were chasing horses all over the prairie, while the old men and women plundered the bodies; and if any mutilating was done, it was by the old men.

"I have lived peaceably ever since we came upon the reservation. No one can say that Rain-in-the-Face has broken the rules of the Great Father. I fought for my people and my country. When we were conquered, I remained silent, as a warrior should. Rain-in-the-Face was killed when he put down his weapons before the Great Father. His spirit was gone then; only his poor body lived on, but now it is almost ready to lie down for the last time. Ho, hechetu! "

Continue reading...

[horizon-verizon]

Lucerys went to Storm’s End to deliver Rhaenyra’s message, he insisted he would bring Borros’ reply to the QUEEN, Lucerys basically died for his mother’s claim and she repays him by trying to make up with his murderers ? That’s sociopathic.

Rhaenyra agreed to send her son as an envoy for the sake of her throne which she apparently doesn’t want and then she begs his murderers for peace ? Why did she let him go then ? Did she sacrifice him ? For what exactly ? She spat into her dead son’s face, she worries about her PR but not her son's sacrifice.

This ask accusing Rhaenrya as being sociopathic is part of why I simply don't emotionally/morally engage at face value (as in these are "real" or well realized character) with this show as much as a lot of other people in the asoiaf fandom do. I do engage as critically (analytically) as I can AND use some scenes as evidence against fandom sexism. The clear misunderstanding and trying to fix characters into roles that don't make sense for their arcs in this story of the Dance undermines too much of the HotD story for me to remain Watsonian about it.

Bec it is not "Rhaenyra" that is sociopathic. It is the sexist writing breeding inconsistency after inconsistency for the character as well as the entire list of circumstances--how kinslaying seems no big deal and how it seems no big deal that Aemond commits this taboo and thus removing a critical layer to why the blacks go to war to answer such a tragedy (this layer that is already on top of how they usurped her).

Though she'd be a valid character if she had been adapted/created for some other appropriate story, FOR THIS ONE and for the relationship she has w/Daemon, she simply doesn't make any sense (the reasoning for war, her kids dying and little response or exploration of that versus her trying to do what Viserys thinks...the guy who ruled pretty poorly, etc.) and is horribly, sexistly written so that they can get as many people--who are not really weighing what the point of her character was in the Dance story or truly care to understand the very basics of misogyny--to like her character. Which itself tells us something abt our world--women over male characters of fiction and perhaps real life need to be morally upright in order for the sexist violence to matter or even be defined as sexist. (Catelyn Stark of ASoIaF is a character who has her flaws but also her valid reasons for how she acts. Margarey of GoT is not sincere to smallfolk, but we can't count her as evil for it. ETC.)

That the motive behind her usurpation and eventual murder was greedy sexism. Then entire reason why Viserys is king is bc of sexism and the Targs succession rules not having been solofoed in terms of which royal has a superseding claim than the other since Aenys and Maegor. Many Targ men actively blocked their female counterparts or children or others' children to strengthen their own claim in the eyes of the Andal-Westerosi descents they were ruling and assimilating into for the ease of said rule.

Therefore yes, the Dance happened bc of misogyny/you can never remain that misogyny played a small role in it happening.

Part of the reason--but not the only reason--she fights for the throne is bc she wants payback for her sons' deaths/punish the greens/not have Luke-Jace die from nothing at all.

This is the same woman who marries Daemon Targaryen bc she is like him in the ferocity, prideful way as well as wanted him for his loyalty and willingness to go that far for her, their family/kids, and her crown. It was actually rather cheap for HotD to portray a Rhaenyra who is conflicted over: some sort of payback for Luke's death thru Blood & Cheese vs the horror of Helaena's grief and pain as a mother herself. A sort of reckoning that she may or may not accept and how far does she actually "accept"? THIS, I argue, would have been far more interesting bc of the layers to it all that reminds me of ebing close to any other Gothic narrative...and this is more of a Gothic couple than they aren't.

This also goes into how the focus of her distrust of him is somehow whether he's trying to rule through her instead of self control. It appears a fine line--bc some might think if she actually cared to follow directions or lead, he wouldn't fly off the handle or go behind their backs or do stuff like "heir for a day", so it has to be him wanting the throne for himself sincerely, and that is all...no love. Again, that is what she was arguing he was trying to do in the actual S2 E2 episode, when she says that he is just trying to use her name to do what he wanted against the Hightowers/Otto/his enemies.

When we have already hashed this bit out AND Rhaenyra (if we say she is very careful and deliberate when it comes to her kids' safety) would not have endangered her 3 boys if it were obviously true Daemon was gunning for them for himself...also, his daughters were marrying those boys so he does have stake in the line even with Jacaerys ruling bc he'd have ruling grandkids through him. So no, it didn't make sense, her concerns.

Not unless we reason that:

this Rhaenyra is simply not the same Rhaenyra as the book canon, and thus her relationship with Daemon simply makes no sense on screen as the writers wrote her/them

we recognize that the writers contradict epi 2, epi 7, epi 8 (all where she obviously understands him and puts trusts him not try to get the throne from/through her or harm her again NOT abt his emotional control) while remembering Daemon suddenly choke her out in epi 10 (which didn't make sense itself bc of those episodes I listed)

*7/14/24* I guess we could argue that Rhaenyra was more trying to address his tendency to leave her when things get too hard by accusing him of cold ambition (as an expression from the fear that he only wants her for power since he didn't bother to help her out at least 2x before, so this is her taking an opportunity to draw him into it and express that fear)...again, this doesn't make much sense when this show has made us believe that they had rather very peaceful and happy and fulfilled days on Dragonstone from S1 E8! This is a pre-marriage argument or at least an argument had either before Rhaenyra proposes to him--thus the argument is her confronting him before she ties herself to him--OR it's had in the first two years when he does something nasty or sus and she confronts him. It's not an argument that one has 6 years after marriage and raising 6 children and seemingly completely satisfied with one's partner WITHOUT HAVING ALREADY WRITTEN MULTIPLE SCENES SHOWING/ESTABLISHING SOMETHING LIKE A MISUNDERSTANDING THAT HOLDS A LOT OF TENSION BETWEEN THEM BEFORE THIS ARGUMENT! It should have been built into to make any modicum of sense. *END*

So yeah, even though I liked the acting and energy of the fight, I didn't care for Rhaenyra's argument w/Daemon. and it isn't actually Rhaenyra nor does their Rhaenyra make any sense, so I don't care to actually engage with this show that much or take it as a serious project. It's their cluster fuck of a character they made to draw in people who can't handle dark or morally questionable female character OR genuinely don't grasp what an unreliable narrator is:

[writingbyshiloh]

Scary Coincidence

AN: Reader is dressed as Colombia from Rocky Horror Picture Show with the shiny hat. Going to a Halloween party tonight and I’m shaking w excitement. Some of this got messed up when pasting

CW: Drinking, (finally) non-FBI reader, probably should have been putting age gap was a CW bc he's like 50+ in the show, no beta brace yourself

WC: 0.5k

The pub your friends picked was definitely an old man's pub, just somewhere to drink and pass the time before the club you planned to go to opens. You got a few odd looks, with your group's costumes far from a classic Dracula or superheroes. Instead, the looks you got were probably from the amount of exposed skin, and how your specific costume was full of bright colours which, stood out against everyone else dark pallet. You just had to be Colombia, covered in a rainbow of sparkles, from your gold top hat to your feet.  

While some patrons stared at you like you had come from a different planet (which makes your costumes feel even better) no one has made any rude or even borderline comments. You tip well and stay close to each other dishing out workplace gossip. A few of you you sitting on stools by the bar, the rest standing in a semi-circle. , everyone idly keeps an eye on their phones to keep checking the time. 

Hat too hot and itchy you take it off, setting it on the least sticky part of the bar, slightly to your side. The pub is pretty empty so you don't feel too bad about your hat just sitting there. It's not until you go to leave that you notice your hat is gone and in its place is a sleek black fedora. While not the highlight of your costume, it did take you ages to sequins on top and you want it back.  

Scanning the other patrons you look for anyone wearing your hat and hopefully the owner of the black you’re sporting. You told your friends to go ahead without you, you can catch up. It takes you a few walk-throughs, but you spot your tophat sitting on a booth table, surrounded by a few men in various costumes. Finishing the drink in your hand you walk over. 

“Excuse me,” you say, watching everyone in the booth turn to face you “I think you have my hat.” 

The short man dressed as a cop sitting on the outside opens his mouth, probably to tell you to get lost, but the man next to him interjects over him. 

“Would you look at that? I think I do.” he replies, voice smooth and deep. The hat you’re holding certainly matches the dark suit he's wearing. You smile, reaching to swap the hats. He’s older than you but handsome nonetheless while he returns your smile. 

“Please. Allow me to buy you an apology drink.” he says to you, quietly telling the fake policeman next to him “Glenn, move.” 

You step back from the table to give the fake cop - Glenn apparently - space to stand, and for your hat thief to move out of the booth. He unfolds, one hand held out for you to shake. You grab it, probably shaking it a bit too hard. 

“I’m Raymond, and you’re... Columbia?” He asks, gesturing to your costume. He tips his head while gauging your reaction. You huff out a laugh before telling him your actual name. You like how he sounds repeating it. 

“Now, how 'bout that apology drink?” you ask, letting him guide you towards the bar. "And what are you supposed to be?"

"I'm dressed as Raymond Reddington, the FBI's most wanted. My friend there, Glenn, is a cop. Purley his idea, my dear."

"But your real first name is also Raymond?" 

"Lifes full of happy coincidences, like how your hat ended up at my table." 

You can't help the smile on your face, trying to discreetly text your friends you're going to be very very late. 

[raisedbythetv89]

Just finished “Poor Things” and damn what a fucking movie.

The mind of a child inside a woman’s body who has an insatiable sexual appetite and curiosity is uncomfortable as fuck but that’s the entire point. Children are innately curious and experimental and very simplistically seek pleasure and avoid pain and our puritanic (or in the story victorian) western society has turned all things sex related into such an uncomfortable taboo topic and this movie shoves that reality in our faces forcing us to confront how uncomfortable we are when it comes to educating children about sex and the relationships we have with our own bodies and pleasure and often resort to just telling them “it’s improper or wrong” and that leaves the door

W I D E O P E N

For men like the lawyer to come in and take advantage of the appetite others tell us to deny, the curiosity and the naïvety of someone who must venture into sexual relationships with absolutely zero frame of reference or knowledge. If you deny children the ability to learn something from you THEY WILL SEEK TO LEARN IT FROM WHOEVER IS WILLING TO TEACH THEM.

Every man who tried to control Bella failed miserably and what I ADORE about this film is it flips the traditional “poor naive girl goes to the big city, gets taken advantage of and ruins her life and is left with nothing and now she’s just another victim…. Poor thing….” completely on its head and not only that, better reflects real girl’s journeys through this world because we truly overcome so much in order to become the women we are. Yes she is taken advantage of and treated cruelly (“I wasn’t trying to educate I wanted to hurt you. I couldn’t stand to see such blind happiness”) yet she persists, she learns, she forms her own ideas and opinions and beliefs, she shuns societal norms and in the end the lawyer has been driven mad, her sociopathic husband from her previous life is a goat and she’s happy studying to be a doctor surrounded by women and a man who supports her to he exactly who she is and does not view her as her property. It was incredibly refreshing to see what is usually framed as a very dark traumatic journey for girls coming of age as one of self empowerment and agency. It was a magical adventure, an Odyssey. She is a true adventurer. Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt and Barbie to an extent are the only other stories I can think of that frame women’s coming of age journeys in this way (though I haven’t seen THAT many movies in the grand scheme of things so there very well could be others I’m unaware of)

I understand if you get stuck on the “child brain in woman’s body that men then desire” it is icky but this film is in no way condoning that behavior in men it absolutely is criticizing it. The lawyer is driven mad by the very childlike curiosity that drew him to her in the first place, it’s perfect we LOVE to see men go insane by getting exactly what they wished for 😌

It’s important to note that yes it’s a male director but Emma Stone was a producer and has said she had complete say and control with both how her body was shown and how the story was told. I personally tend to just viscerally react to male gaze media in an I’m immediately nauseous and on edge kind of way and didn’t get that at all with this film. My brain was like “this is weird and uncomfortable” but my nervous system wasn’t actually sending up and red flags that this was unsafe or insidious in some way like it did when I watched game of thrones for the first time. I knew shit was off on that set IMMEDIATELY which was then later confirmed to my unfortunate lack of surprise.

But anyway I’m not normally one who cares about oscar nominated films but this one had me laughing HARD and crying and it’s such a visually beautiful and interesting film I absolutely loved it.

[sukunasboytoy]

typed this up after watching the movie on opening n i was gonna keep it in the drafts for abt a week before posting it but ppl r talking abt it so im gonna go ahead n post it now !

‼️ cw: alien romulus spoilers ‼️

there is so much to be said abt andy im not even kidding theres so many conversations that can be had they include:

the black chara thats the emotional support for a white chara (andys whole thing is that he tells bad puns to rain to cheer her up - his one n only reason for existence is the do wtvr is best for rain is his literally a black chara that exists to prop up n support a white chara)

white feminism/white tears (how rain centers her own pain over the pain she caused andy, rain victimizes herself n openly argues w andy for turning on her n aligning himself w wy even tho she left him first - ofc they work thru this at the end but yk)

i rlly feel like andy has feelings for rain but hes been ‘brother zoned’ n his line abt ‘u can finally see me as a adult’ is what solidified that for me but i do think a mix of ableism n racism r at play there (black man being infantilized by the white woman he has feelings for bc of his blackness n mental (programming???) disability)

white savorism - inb4 rain ran back to andy at the end of the movie andy depended on rain for survival (needing help to fend off attackers at the start of the movie, rain constantly stepped in n defended andy against the anti-synth bigot which could be read as a metaphor for racism here, but its rain using her privilege as a flesh person (again metaphor for racism n ableism here) to constantly save andy that props her up as the Good Person even tho shes willing to use n abandon him)

andy doesnt rlly have any agency- he does what he feels whats best for rain (black chara used to prop up white chara) gets his agency overridden (by another white chara rook n mu/th/ur) n then makes the switch back to supporting rain (sure he chooses to let rain take the module out but yk plot convenience- they need the black man to sacrifice his life to save the white woman)

like dont get me wrong its great to have a black n disabled chara on screen n its great that he gets to be morally ambiguous (my personal fave) n i like that andy n rain have a complicated messy relationship n they hurt each other (like ppl do) but yk … hard not to notice some of this stuff yk

n i do think its on purpose bc synths r seen as not human/subhuman in the same way poc n neurodivergent ppl r (esp for his lack of empathy n emotions) hes viewed as inherently dangerous (like men of color r viewed as being innately violent n aggressive n mentally ill ppl r seen as violent n unpredictable)

rains decision to leave him behind bc hes “not rlly human bc he doesnt actually feel” is a good metaphor n representation for how poc r used as stepping stones n viewed as not “real” ppl by white ppl n the same can be said for neurodivergent ppl esp mentally disabled ppl rain seems to be fulfilled by andy needing her but is willing to leave him behind the moment including him becomes a hinder ace to her (n ofc its fixed in the end- but i like synths being a more obvious metaphor for ppl who r dehumanized in society aliens have largely been a white cast franchise so taking the narrative of the bigotry that synths face in the universe n having that applied to a synth that is black n disabled is great n i rlly like that the bigotry is portrayed in those subtle ways on screen like andys lack of agency n being used as a literal prop for the white woman by literally existing to support her)

[d1strxct]

𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧

𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

“Hey, have you seen my hat ‘round here? I coulda sworn it was on the table.”

Looking up from your place on the couch, you shook your head at Cassidy. He had the most confused face you’ve ever seen, and it took everything in you not to giggle at his predicament. Of course you knew where it was, as you were the one who had taken it.

He stared at you for a good minute, and when you made no signs of lying, he hummed and spun on his heel to go back down the hallway.

“Alright then. I’ll go ask Hanzo if he’s seen it. I bet ya he took it with how stealthy he is.”

You smirked to yourself and continued scrolling on your phone. To you, it was hilarious seeing him so puzzled. After a few minutes of nonchalant browsing, you heard yells from Hanzo’s room.

“Are you accusing me of taking your hat?”

“I have reason to believe it was you!”

“Cole for the last time, I did not steal your hat!”

You snorted quietly at hearing the two grumpy men bantering. It was always entertaining to listen to them argue over little things. It went silent for a few moments, and then all of a sudden, loud laughter could be heard from down the hall. Was that… Hanzo’s laughter?

You put your phone down on your lap to focus on the conversation better.

“No! Noho! Don’t tickle me! Cole!”

Your blood ran cold at hearing those words. Cole Cassidy was a ruthless tickler and you did NOT want to be at the hands of him. You felt a bit of pity for the Shimada, but you still couldn’t help but find the whole situation funny.

“Just tell me where you put it and I won’t go for your ribs!”

Over his loud cackling, you just barely heard him say your name. That traitor!

“I saw them take it! Now- haha, please!”

That was your queue to leave. You quickly leaped off the couch and ran the opposite way of Cassidy’s loud yelling of your name.

Behind you, you heard the door to Hanzo’s room open and the rapid pounding of footsteps follow after you.

“Get back here, ya little fraud!”

You traveled through the seemingly endless hallways and turned left and right at each new opening. Cassidy’s steps never strayed too far though. He was hot on your tail and you were running out of stamina. Running down one more hallway, you took your chances with the door on the right, which trapped you right into a dead end.

‘Well, I had a good life,’ you thought.

Slowly turning around with a sigh, you saw Cole standing directly in front of you, an irritated yet playful look etched onto his features.

“So, ya wanna fess up or deal with this the hard way?” His voice showed no real anger and you let a guilty smile creep onto your face.

“I didn’t take it?”

He let out a deep chuckle and shook his head. Stepping towards you, he looked at you in the eyes. His gruff voice spoke out.

“Well, you had a good life.”

With that, he grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you over his shoulder. You yelped and grunted as he started walking back the way you both came from.

“Hey! Put me down, Cole!” You gently slapped and hit his back, yet your efforts were futile. His stronghold never once loosened and, soon enough, you were back on the couch.

He took your phone that was left there and moved it onto the small stand next to the couch. Lightly tossing you on the couch, you grunted and made a move to get back up, but he put a firm hand on your shoulder and lowered you back down. He repositioned his leg on the other side of yours to straddle your waist and you gulped.

“W-wait! Let’s talk about this!”

Cassidy smirked and narrowed his eyes at you. “We did, and you lied right to my face.” His hands grasped your wrists and put them under his knees, rendering you immobile. Anticipatory giggles slipped from your mouth and you couldn’t help trying to squirm out of his grip.

His eyes never looked away from yours and his hands crept towards your torso, fingers wiggling tauntingly. “I ain’t even doing anythin’ yet, why are you laughing?”

His fingers touched down on your sides and you flinched, a squeak leaving your lips. He didn’t move them though, as he just let them rest there.

“Any last words?”

A moment of silence passed.

“You look better with it o- no!”

Before you could finish your sentence, his fingers went straight to work. They squeezed and prodded and poked at your sides and ribs, earning a bout of laughter from you. You threw your head back and squeezed your eyes shut, involuntarily squirming around.

“Will you tell me where ya put my hat, dear?” Cassidy asks as he scribbles his fingers against your ribs. Taking a deep breath, you managed a “no!” through giggles. He shrugged his shoulders and moved his hands to your hips, gently squeezing the spot right above the bone.

“It’s your funeral.”

Your feet kicked out on the other side of the couch and you cackled. Shaking your head from side to side, you weakly pulled at your wrists, but they were still stuck under Caissdy’s weight. “Hey, did ya know I’ve always wanted to learn how to play the piano?”

Your eyes went wide and you fixed your gaze on him. He had a shit-eating grin on his face, that bastard. Leaving your hips, his hands found the vacancy on your lowermost ribs.

You shouted out pleas of “no” and “please,” but it didn’t deter the cowboy at all.

“I think if I press here, this sound comes out, right?” His index finger pressed on your rib and you squeaked. He smiled and nodded his head, chucking. “Yes! That’s the sound!”

“I think with a tap here and a scribble there, I’ll be a pro in no time! What do ya think?” He asked as he skittered his nimble fingers in the same spot.

You giggled maddeningly and shook your head. “You s-suck at playing the piano!”

He gasped and squinted his eyes at you. “Well that’s just mean! I’ll show ya how good I am.”

Before you could even blink, rapid fingers were scribbling on your ribs, sending tickly sensations coursing through your body. You shrieked and once again your head was thrown back against the arm of the couch. His fingers seemed to be everywhere at once and you howled with laughter.

After a few moments of his ruthless piano playing, he let up. You greedily sucked in deep breaths and giggles poured out of your lips. He grinned down at you.

“One last chance to fess up, pumpkin. Or I won’t be so lenient.”

You blushed at the thought of what he would do. Of what he could do. But of course, you were stubborn. Sucking in all of your giggles, you let a smirk take over your features with newfound confidence.

“You can kick the dust.”

And just like that, the confidence was gone. Cassidy didn’t say anything nor did his facial expression change. His hands grabbed yours from underneath his knees and he put them above your head. One hand held both of yours while the other wiggled in front of you.

You drew in a breath and prepared for the ticklish onslaught. Closing your eyes, you waited for your death. Except it never came. You could hear your heartbeat in your chest and the silence in the room was deafening. Curious, you peeked an eye open to look at what was happening.

As soon as you did, Cassidy’s hand landed on your armpit, his swift fingers kneading the soft skin. A piercing screech ripped from your throat that could’ve alerted the whole Overwatch team, followed by boisterous laughter.

Cole was taken aback by your scream, but it didn’t deter his tickling. You tried to pull your arms down with all your might, but he was just too damn strong. Your body squirmed from side to side and your feet kicked wildly.

He switched to the other underarm after a few moments and more laughter broke from you. Deciding to use both hands, Cassidy let go of your wrists and quickly shot it under your other arm. Your arms came crashing down to your sides and you squealed.

His fingers softly scribbled against the hollows and he chuckled. “Aw man, my hands are stuck now! Lift your arms!”

In between fits of laughter, you shook your head madly. “N-no! It’s a t-trap!”

Now it was Cassidy’s turn to cackle. His head was thrown back as he continued to tickle you. “Now why would it be a trap? C’mon!”

If you weren’t in your current situation, you would roll your eyes at his innocent tone. You didn’t say anything back, not that you could anyway. Laughter kept coming out of your mouth as you squirmed as much as you could.

Because of your loud laughter, you didn’t notice that Hanzo had been standing in the room, a sly smirk on his face as he watched the scene play out. His arms were crossed against his chest and he leaned on the wall.

Cole turned his head to look at him and spoke. “Oh hey, looks like our little friend doesn’t wanna fess up where my hat is. So I had to teach them a lesson about lying.”

Hanzo chuckled and looked back at you. Your head whipped to look at him and you shouted pleas through your bubbling laughter.

“H-Hanzo! Help me! Please!”

He pretended to think of an answer, his hand coming up to stroke his chin. “Hm. If I remember correctly, I was put through torture because of you. So no.”

Even Cassidy rolled his eyes at Hanzo’s dramatic words. He looked down at you and watched as you stuck out your tongue at the archer through cackles and squeals. His fingers never stopped scratching at your skin throughout the whole conversation.

Eventually, after what seemed like hours of tickling, Cassidy could tell you were reaching your limit. He stopped moving his fingers and let them rest against your underarms. Taking deep breaths, you thanked whatever gods were out there for the moment of peace.

“Oh my g-god! That was brutal!” Cole smirked and removed his fingers from your body. The sudden movement made you flinch and squeal, and both men laughed. Cassidy got off of your waist and you quickly curled up into a ball on your side.

Residual giggles leaked from your lips and you took in deep breaths. “So,” the cowboy started, “where’d ya put my hat?”

“It’s in the cabinet.”

Cassidy nodded and walked towards the one you pointed at. Opening the door, he grabbed his hat and put it back on his head.

He walked back over to where you were still laying on the couch and grinned. “Don’t let it happen again,” he spoke, “or else it’ll be a lot worse.” He poked your side for emphasis and you swatted his hand away.

“Okay! Okay, I got it!”

He chuckled and strolled out of the room. You closed your eyes and sighed, enjoying the peacefulness. It wasn’t for long though, as seconds later you remembered a certain Hanzo who was still standing against the wall.

“Can I help you?” You asked with an eyebrow raised.

Hanzo narrowed his eyes at you with a small smirk. “I need to get my revenge too for your little stunt.” He made a move of stepping towards you and your head shot up at him.

“Nuh uh! Absolutely not!” You pushed yourself up with the little strength you had left and ran back down the hall.

So much for a break.