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#I don't think this one is great either but again. had fun writing it
captainschaos · 1 year
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The third session ticks into play, and it's just Etho and Skizz at the Team T.I.E.S. base. They move around one another mostly in silence, organizing chests, gearing up for the day. To most, this would be awkward, uncomfortable. But these two know one another well, and know one another by looks across tables and peripheral guards on battlefields. Their comfort is shown not in chatter, but in resources wordlessly passed from one of them to the other. Small gifts, appreciated by the fae that counts all hindrances and slights. Small kindnesses, appreciated by the reaper that cannot get enough of the warm moments of life.
But quickly, of course, they are joined by their T and I, and camaraderie comes easy in the chatter! Jokes and jabs, stories and snickers, friendship is thick between words that flow freely. They share what Impulse and Tango brought from the nether, and plans are fully formulated for the week now that they're all together. But behind it all, there is a sound the most pleasant of noise can't drown out.
The ticking of the clock continues.
They all split off to their business quickly to make the most of their quickly draining countdowns, and Skizz finds his in the sky. Skizz's clock is the loudest, his pull toward death the strongest, and he knows it well. The reaper's wings may not keep him safe as he begins to build SkyNet below his own feet, the pure white feathers thinned and clipped by this world that doesn't allow flight (an unfair advantage, particularly for a fighter of his caliber), but they bring him a sense of security anyway. A reminder, if nothing else, that he was made for this. He looks over the server with drained, yellowed eyes, and for just a moment he can hear every heartbeat in time with the persistent ticking. The reaper's senses remain with him, not enough to be unfair, but to keep him confident. He knows death. He does not fear it.
Well, until he takes a stupid fall to his stupid death. It was just one second, just one distraction as his foot slipped- it doesn't matter. He drags himself back from spawn, frowning and screaming his frenzied frustrations as Tango and Impulse laugh at his literal slip up. But he knows they're not really laughing, and they know he's not really angry. Not at them, at least. But he feels his time running out, and he feels the desperation beginning to well up. His yellowed time is beginning to rust toward red, and it rubs against the back of his throat. Impulse warns him that he has to look out, and he knows. Trust him, he knows.
(Down below, a different warning is uttered. Tango pokes at Etho as he passes the man by, giving a passing comment about thieves at the mob farm. Etho nods, and later, when the phoenix returns to find him standing with a red-handed Bdubs, he gives a quiet signal with a half-joke. A quip about killing Tango last, disguising acknowledgement that he's got his head in the right place. They don't have time to kill- it's come time to kill.)
They meet in the middle for a moment, a sweet moment. Etho is tired, his hands fumbling with the crafting materials and his mind jumbling the recipe. He tosses the materials toward Skizz, the reaper in need of his teammate's confidence and in need of his own, and a trade is made. Both spirits are boosted as Etho is allowed to let Skizz be the competent one for a second, and Skizz catches the knowing look Etho gives him as he's given this chance to prove himself useful, if mostly to himself. They give each other a smile before parting ways again.
Clock back in.
(Up above, a different threat is woven. Impulse passes Skizz on SkyNet, taking a handful of TNT from him. He makes no response to Skizz's questions, but his knowing look and barely-suppressed smile says it all. And he steps back, an acknowledgement that his head's in the right place. The reaper will help the demon with his silence. They are on the same timeline- time to kill.)
They're all milling about like ants at work, and Etho feels even more ant-like as he finds his work below ground. He watches his clock closely, his elevated senses twitching with every tick. No matter how far he is from death, he can never be far enough for comfort. So it's a boring task, threatening death by boredom for a chaotic soul like him, but the protection of diamonds is simply too powerful to ignore. His tail flicks back and forth, and though his connection to the world is different in this place that careens so quickly toward death, the fae is still grateful for the small hints he gets from his surroundings. Even if they don't lead him toward diamonds, they are a reassurance, the tremor of mob footsteps and shifting stone a comfort. He hears death. He does not fear it.
Well. Until his stupid death lands on top of him with a stupid fall. It was just one second, he didn't have time to dodge- it doesn't matter. Now all he can do is hear his death with the painful blast, and the even more painful taunting at spawn. He is silent against the noise around him as he steps into the water to escape the laughter, Tango and Impulse among the loudest of them. But they're not really laughing, and he's not really mad. At them. And yet there is an anger that he continues to carefully listen to within him, and it's getting louder. It's all he can do to keep it at a whisper as he tells the silent, watching Grian that the time to kill is near. And he knows what he'll do with it.
Trust him, he knows.
[There will be one of these for each week! This is 3/?]
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flightyalrighty · 13 days
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FIRST | PREVIOUS | NEXT CH 1 PG 36
Infested will return on June 27th. --- Thank you to the following Ascended supporters: @chaogongoozles, @fiiresiidefrfr, @elizard4227, @grogar, Ezzoh, @susivoi, @calculuscacophony, Eros, @ivycorp, @summersdale @borrelia, @mizukiz, @sanicdetails, @combinegrunt-echo-1, Pica, @veeceear, @quackenburt, ItsmeMonarch, @memendoemori, @trans-girl-sonic, & savarsenic
Content Warnings | Store | Ko-Fi (Discord!) | Read On Comic Fury! DISCLAIMER: "Infested" is a horror comic ft. content not suitable for those under the age of 17.
A long-winded looking back on things below the cut:
The first few pages of Infested were uploaded to this blog on March 2nd, 2023 -- Over a whole year ago! I was so busy, too, that I completely missed its birthday (Sorry Infested). Looking even further back than that, the original story was was something I began writing on December 25th, 2022 (Merry Christmas).
It took two years to get to this point.
And hey, not to toot my own horn about it, but completing even one chapter of a webcomic is a big deal. Especially for me. My first webcomic, Fight/Flight, didn't get very far. I completed the prologue, started Chapter 1, and then had to drop it for a number of reasons (I didn't really agree with what baby-me had to say, politically, anymore).
This comic was born from a lot of intense feelings. The story, itself, too. Some good. Some bad.
I had been forced to move away from my hometown, and with that move, I lost the physical connection that I had to all of my friends. I lost the familiarity of a place I'd known for most of my life. I'm now stuck somewhere... Worse. It felt like a cage. Still does. Disconnected from the life I thought I would be living after college. I didn't have health insurance, either -- Got kicked off of it because of the move -- And as a result, I was off my antidepressants.
So there I was, at a pretty low point in my life. I miserable and lonely and every single day dragged on. And on. And on. And I felt so disappointed in myself. That disappointment became self-loathing, and it all kinda spiraled.
Have I mentioned that I'm a huge Sonic fan? I don't think I need to. I'd say it's pretty obvious. But for the sake of this story, I'll say it again: I'm a HUGE Sonic fan. I've been that way since 2003 with Sonic Heroes. The franchise has been in my life for over two decades. I had a monthly mail subscription to Archie's Sonic the Hedgehog. Sonic the Hedgehog was something that I truly loved more than any other piece of media. It brought me endless joy. Until I didn't.
I had dropped Sonic after Lost World was... Itself. I had already felt pretty irritated with the Meta Era, and Lost World was the final straw. The last bit of hope that the series could recover was snuffed out when Forces was released. It was over. I was done. If Sonic was truly that embarrassed by itself, if they had truly lost touch with what made the series so great, then I wouldn't waste my time any longer. I was so sure that I had to just... Grieve and move on. My beloved childhood game series was dead. Long live the king or whatever. I'd just bitterly read IDW Sonic and think about what could've been. I was lucky to have that comic, at least. Archie had been canceled, too, after all. I was lucky to have my scraps.
Then Sonic Frontiers came out. And it changed everything.
And my god, it was everything. It was everything to me. Flaws be damned, it was everything. To. Me. The spectacle. The serious tone. The vastly improved writing. Kellin Fucking Quinn. It was FUN! It was actually FUN to PLAY. He was back. I was back. Sonic pulled me by my hand out of the ocean of misery I'd fallen into, and he looked me in my eye and he said;
"Hey. You're gonna be alright."
Metaphorically speaking. Sonic The Hedgehog didn't actually literally speak to me -- And sure, okay, maybe it's a little dramatic to describe a game as this great Depression Annihilator but I'm dead serious when I say that, for that time, before I was able to get back on my meds, I was self-medicating with Sonic.
Sonic was all I was thinking about. I reread the Unleashed arc in Archie Sonic, which got me sorta realizing something, and which led to my post where I said something along the lines of "Sonic would hide a zombie bite."
Archie Sonic would, at least. Because he basically did do that in the Unleashed arc of that comic. He let that problem fester until it became an even bigger problem because, ironically, he didn't want to be a problem.
So one thing led to another. I thought more about Sonic becoming a zombie. Bada-bing, bada-boom, Infested was born.
I didn't expect it to get the attention that it did. I felt lucky when the first page I drew Rouge on (Page 6 I think?) blew up. The right people saw it at the right time. I'm extremely grateful for that.
I'm extremely grateful for all of you.
So yeah, one chapter. Woo! Here's to many more.
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barefoot-joker · 4 months
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Snake in the Garden Pt 2~Yandere!Lucifer X Reader
Hello, everybody! And welcome to part 2 of Snake in the Garden! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter and I can't wait to see what you guys think. There will be a couple more parts after this one, so be on the lookout! At the end I will have a taglist of people. If you would like to be added, don't hesitate to comment. Again, I'm sorry if Lucifer is OOC. I tried my best. As always, I hope you enjoy and have a great day/night!
Words: 2877
Warnings: Swearing, Mental Breakdown, Forced Companionship, Possessive Tendencies, Ignoring One's Wishes
Part 1 Part 3 Part 4
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I sighed as I shifted in the large King sized bed. It was quite comfortable with red silk sheets, fuzzy blankets and so many pillows one could almost make an igloo. While the mattress was quite huge, I wasn’t given much room to move. Currently His Majesty had his inky black arms wrapped around my waist and his legs tangled with mine. The heat of his breath and body felt hotter than the fires of Hell. I tried to shift again but he just cuddled closer. “Just five more minutes, darling.”
“Please, Lucifer-”
“I love it when you say my name,” he purred.
“I really need to go to the bathroom. I promise I’ll come right back.”
He hummed and I shuddered as his claws lightly tapped at my hip. “I suppose I can allow it. But do be quick, I’ll miss you.”
His grip loosened and I was quick to sit up. Fast walking to the bathroom, I shut and locked the door behind me. While there was no doubt in my mind he could use some magic to open the door if he wanted to, the lock soothed some sense of protection in me. A sigh of relief escaped me as I sat on the toilet and let my hands run down my face. I didn’t really need to use the bathroom, it was just a lame excuse to get away for a few minutes. After all, it had only been a few hours since I found out my little Red was actually the Devil himself and I was being ushered into the role of Queen of Hell. I shook my head as I tried to get rid of the look of adoration he held in his eyes throughout the night. It was frightening. Silently, I played with the hem of my favorite color nightgown as I tried to think of a way out of this. 
It’s not like I could kill him. He seemed pretty agile on his feet and with magic on his side he’d be able to stop a fatal blow.
Leaving wasn’t an option either. There was palace staff everywhere, little demons with suits waiting for their master’s beck and call. The property was guarded by David and Goliath as well. Besides, I didn’t really know the layout of the castle and would just be going in blind, despite the elaborate tour I had gotten.
The final thought was to play into his game, make him believe I was in love with him. I mentally gagged. Not only did I think I wouldn’t be able to handle pretending to be a fan of his courtship, I feel he would be able to sniff out my intentions right away. He was an ancient being of many eons after all and he had a previous wife.
I looked up from my thoughts and gazed at the Victorian stained glass window in front of me. The window was able to be pulled apart in the middle as there was a latch on either side. Hold on a minute.
I got up and stalked over, undoing the golden latch quietly. Looking down, I gulped at how high up we were. The dead grass seemed miles away. Perhaps if I got a rope of some sort I’d be able to climb out? 
“Darling, are you almost done in there? It’s getting quite lonely out here.”
“C-coming!”
I quickly closed the window, flushed the toilet, and turned on the sink. Can’t have him believing I was a liar already. A few seconds later I shut off the sink and unlocked the door. Opening it, I could see Lucifer’s gaze shift towards me and a smile peeled at his lips. He patted the empty side of the bed so I slowly walked over. I peeled back the thin black curtain that surrounded the four poster bed and sat. His claws slid across the blankets and planted themselves on my thigh, his thumb rubbing the flesh tenderly. “I’ve canceled all my meetings for the day to help try and get you more situated, dear. Doesn’t that sound lovely?”
“I suppose.”
I turned my head to glance at the blankets, my fingers drawing patterns being more entertaining. Suddenly a knock at the door had us both looking towards it. “Sire, breakfast is ready.”
“Thank you. We’ll be down in a few.”
“Of course, Sire.”
I heard little footsteps scurry away. “I guess that’s our cue to get up.”
He pulled back the blankets and I blushed upon seeing him shirtless and with boxers that had apples all over. I had forgotten that’s how he went to bed. He slipped past me and headed to a dark oak wardrobe across from the bed and opened it. Lucifer shifted through the various clothes before deciding on something. He brought out two hangers and laid them on the bed. One was the white suit that he wore yesterday and the other was a lacy white blouse, velvety green skirt and black boots. “I’ll admit I don’t have many options for you to wear as of right now. We’ll have to go shopping together sometime soon. I hope this will suffice for now.”
“It’s fine, thank you.”
I slid off the bed, grabbed my clothes and headed into the bathroom. I locked the door and began to strip. It took me a few minutes to do up the buttons on the blouse but once I was done I walked back into the bedroom. Lucifer was just putting on his boots while I draped my nightgown over the back of a chair. “Well don’t you just look enchanting, my dear.”
“Always the charmer, aren’t you?” “I’m just stating the truth.”
He leaned over and gave my cheek a kiss. I just huffed. “Shall we go?”
I nodded. Interlocking our arms together, Lucifer led the way to the dining room. It was quite the grand room with a chandelier hanging above the large table. The blonde pulled out my chair for me and scooted it in once I had sat. He placed himself across from me and as soon as we were situated a few castle staff came out. They placed a mug in front of each of us, a dark roast coffee smell emitting from it. Plates were put on the table as well. A couple of eggs, sausage and bacon were put in the form of a happy face, something I’m sure Lucifer had a hand in. Breakfast was quiet as the King looked over his newspaper and I poked at my food. From what I ate it was quite good, just uncomfortable with those red eyes gazing at me every once in a while. 
When the table was cleared, the two of us walked towards the Devil’s workshop. Lucifer gently pushed me into a black high backed chair as he sat on a stool on a podium. I looked at all the rubber ducks that filled the various containers spread throughout the room wondering why. Why rubber ducks? Why so many?
“I hope you don’t mind me working on my latest creation, dearest.”
“Not at all. But, um, what am I supposed to do?”
“Ah, how foolish of me! Here you are.”
A book materialized on the table in front of me and I realized it was one of my favorites. “I hope that is alright.”
I nodded and flipped it open. For a few hours our time was spent like this: him working on his latest invention and I reading. A little bit in I became a bit restless. I placed my book down and gazed around the small room. Besides the rubber ducks and table I sat at, there were other various knick knacks on bookshelves, tools hanging on the walls and some framed photos. The photos had the same three people in them: Lucifer, a beautiful blonde woman and a young blonde girl. Could that be his wife and daughter he mentioned before? “And, done!”
Lucifer spun on his stool to face me and proudly held out his creation. It was a yellow rubber duck with red music notes painted all over it. “How…interesting.”
He stood and placed the duck in my hands. “I know it may look normal, but this is no ordinary duck. Here,” he squeezed the wings and suddenly music came spilling from its beak. 
It was a romantic tune, one I didn’t recognize but sounded familiar. It sounded like a song I’d hear play from the church I’d walk past every day. “It’s music from my birth place. The tune was often played at our festivities and it just reminded me of you.”
“Well, thank you, I guess.”
I sat the duck down on the table and sighed. There he goes with the romantic gestures again. “Is it not to your liking, my love?”
“No, it's just…nevermind.”
I could feel his hands wrap around my shoulders and I tensed. “What’s wrong, Y/n? You’ve been off all day.”
“Can I ask you a favor?”
“Of course! Anything in my power is yours for the asking, you just name it!”
“I want to go home. My actual home on Earth. I, I don’t belong here, Lucifer.”
I could feel tears in my eyes as I gazed down at my hands in my lap. The hands on my shoulders squoze. “You know I can’t do that, sweetie. Your place is by my side here in Hell.”
I clenched my hands and bit my lip. Anger started to slowly rise within me. I stood fast, Lucifer’s hands flying off my shoulders. “How can you decide where I belong? You’re not my father nor are you my husband. Can’t you see how much I hate it here? How much I hate you?!”
His eyes widened and I rushed out of the room. I heard him call for me but I just ignored it. Tears fell down my cheeks as I let my legs carry me throughout the palace till I reached the outside. I fell to the ground near a hand carved stone bench and let my feelings out. I truly didn’t want to be courted by the Devil and no way did I want to remain in my own personal hell. Why couldn’t things be back to normal where I could tend to my garden and have Red join me? Red, that damn snake. Why did he have to come into my life? If only I hadn’t let my kind nature tend to him, then perhaps I’d still be home. “Damn him! DAMN HIM!”
I slammed my hands on the bench and continued to cry. It felt like an eternity till all my crying had ceased and I took the time to look around. That’s when I noticed something in the overgrowth surrounding the fence on the property. I stood and made my way over, pulling at the wiry, thorny brush. My eyes widened as I saw a hole in the fence. Could this be a sign from God? Was he giving me a way out? I looked back at the palace and then back to the fence. As much as I wanted to leave now I knew it wouldn’t be a good idea. Lucifer was no doubt looking for me and leaving would only heighten his upset emotions. I’ll just have to keep this in mind.
I moved the brush back to how it was originally and stepped away, just in time too. One of the servants came out from the glass doors and headed towards me. “Miss Y/n, His Majesty has been looking all over for you! He’s been worried sick!”
I didn’t say anything as he gently grabbed my hand, dragging me inside. “Come along. He’ll be glad to see you in one piece.”
The next few days Lucifer and I spent walking on eggshells around each other. There was an awkward air about us as we went about our days. I suppose my outburst was the cause of it. Even with our hesitation, the demon did his best to court me. Meals were spent in each other’s presence at close proximity, gifts of flowers, rubber ducks and long walks around the property were fairly common, and intimacy was at an all time high. Lucifer had to have his hands on me at all times and kisses on the cheeks and forehead happened at every turn. It was about a week later that His Majesty decided it was time we went out into the city. One of the servants drove us in and the ride over I was given some guidelines. “You are to stay by my side at all times. Pentagram City is quite the dangerous place. If somebody gets too close, I will deal with it personally. Anybody that talks to you will go through me and please dear, don’t hesitate to have fun.”
I’ll try with the short leash you have on me.
The car stopped and Lucifer and I got out. He stooped to the window and whispered something to the driver before coming to my side. Interlocking our arms, we began our walk. “I thought some fresh air away from home would do us both some good, my darling. Besides, this will give us a chance to look for some clothes for you.”
I nodded. As we walked down the sidewalk I could feel a dozen stares pointed in our direction, whispers about our presence floating amongst the civilians. Lucifer didn’t seem to mind but with all the gawking I felt a bit shy. As we passed by an ornate window display, he stopped suddenly. “This seems right up your alley, sweetie.”
He pulled us inside the store. We stood at the entryway and I couldn’t help but gaze at the various clothes. It seemed this shop was more on the posh end, with skirts, dresses and fancy blouses decorating the mannequins. The store itself was a bit busy as customers wandered, but as soon as we entered all eyes were on us. I did my best to shrink into myself while Lucifer puffed out his chest in pride. “Your Majesty, welcome! How grand of you to grace us with your presence! How can we help you today,” asked a female imp in black clothes. 
“My darling here is lacking a wardrobe at home, so I thought it fit to come and look around.”
The woman looked me up and down and smiled. “I’m sure we can find something for your sweetheart. If you’d like to follow me please we can start looking at some pieces.”
I looked to the short man beside me and he just nodded in her direction. “Don’t be shy, dear.”
The two of us followed along as the imp pointed out some options, Lucifer stating his opinion on each one. When we had grown quite the collection, we were led to the fitting rooms in the back. The King perched himself on a plush bench as I stepped into one of the smaller rooms. As I was getting dressed, I heard a phone going off. The circus ringtone rang throughout the store until it stopped when the person picked up. “Charlie, sweetie, how are you?”
I stopped upon hearing Lucifer’s voice. “That’s great to hear. You and Maggie had a good date the other night? Wonderful. How have things at the hotel been? Any recent sinners looking to be redeemed?”
Redeemed? I scooted closer to the curtain to listen in. “I see. Heaven is giving you a hard time, eh?”
Heaven? “What am I up to? Oh your old man is just taking a stroll through town. Listen Charlie, I am quite busy at the moment. How about I give you a call later, okay? Alright sounds good. Buh bye. How’s it going in there, Y/n?”
I stepped out and a smirk rested itself on his face. “My, my. Don’t you look lovely. You know, if we were back at home I don’t think I could hold myself back from ravishing you.”
I felt a shudder go up my spine. Gross!
“I like that blouse on you. It brings out your eyes very nicely. How about trying some more on for dear ole Luci?”
“O-okay.”
I slammed the curtain shut and let myself gag at what he had said earlier. How very forward of him. Now about this hotel…maybe this could be my ticket out of here. 
“Lucifer?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Who was that on the phone?”
“Oh, that was my daughter Charlie!”
“I thought you said you didn’t have a great relationship with her?”
“I don’t, but we’re working on it. I’m helping her with her little passion project.”
“Oh? And what’s that?” Gotcha.
“The Hazbin Hotel. She believes she can solve Hell’s population problem by getting sinners redeemed into Heaven. I honestly don’t see the point, but if helping brings us closer together then I’ll be there for her.”
“I see.” Perhaps if I went the Princess of Hell could get me back to Earth!
After I had tried everything on, we went to the checkout counter and bought a few pieces. I carried the bags back to the car and the whole time I brewed up a plan on how to escape.
~~~~
TAGLIST
@ladymothbeth @cosmic-spider @l0vedoe @stormz369 @strawberry-gothic @repostingmyfavs
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rimunagenius · 2 months
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Would you be down to do a Kate fic where reader is a new transfer and Kate keeps seeing her all over campus and is quickly crushing on her (like she’s down BAD) Then one day when she’s going to meet Caitlin for lunch/coffee/something lol she sees her walking with r laughing then saying goodbye. Kate immediately starts interrogating CC the second she’s within earshot because she wants to find out everything she can about her mystery girl. CC laughs and says she transferred to play soccer and they’re in x class together. Then she’s like as fun as this is I’m starving so can we go eat now. From there she literally sees her everywhere because her and CC start to hang out outside of class, once she finds out r also played basketball in high school and college (focusing on soccer when she transferred) she invites her to pickup games or practice when she knows they’ll be using the managers to scrimmage and this is where Kate finally meets her and is officially smitten. R thinks she’s absolutely adorable and hopes this is the girl Cait said she wanted to introduce her to.
Everywhere
ʚ paring: Kate Martin x reader
ʚ word count: 2.2k words
ʚ warnings: RPF!! , other than that, none that i can think of other than the use of y/n.
ʚ rimunagenius speaks: okay so anon, i love this idea!!…i loved it and im so sorry it took so long to write it and i may possibly consider writing a part two! I love the idea of Kate being so smitten for reader. she’s a sucker for a pretty lady! also i hope it’s okay that i kinda made the reader a ghost to kate..like kate needed to be actively LOOKING so it’d be better for when she actually saw her and i feel like this could’ve have been better so im sorry if it didn’t meet your expectations 😭
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Everywhere. You were literally everywhere. She was definitely not complaining about it though. You were actually so beautiful. You were everywhere but near her. You took over her whole mind since this morning.
She saw you on what she assumed to be your first day. You looked like a lost puppy walking around looking for your class. "Hey, you doing okay?" Kate approached you, sliding one of the sides of her headphones behind her ear. God, you looked even prettier up close.
"Uh, yeah? I don't know where the science building is. I've been looking for about twenty minutes and no luck." You sighed, checking your phone, your friend Caitlin texting you while you pulled your schedule up.
"I can help. If you want?" Kate gave you a warm smile, looking down at your phone. She recognized the professor, having had him her sophomore year. It was a general education requirement for her major. "Oh, I've had him before. I can walk you and show you."
"That'd be great, thanks." The walk was quiet, kind of awkward. Kate was nervous to make small talk. She never thought this far ahead. Hell, she didn't even know she was walking up to you until you responded to her.
Kate thought about it the whole way to her next class. She thought about it the whole way back to her home. She thought about you. The way you smiled at her when she offered her help. She didn't know what was happening.
She's seen many pretty girls before and felt attracted to them but not like this. She's barely known you—talked to you for a total of three minutes...It wasn't possible. It wasn't going to be a thing. She'd probably never see you again. This campus was too big.
Kate had thought about you, and she wouldn’t lie and say that she didn’t try looking for you either. She’d take her time walking to classes throughout that day and to Carver Arena. She’d stop to get coffee and snacks she wasn’t going to finish. She just wanted to see you. You were the most prettiest girl she has ever seen. She tried to find you all the rest of the day. With no luck, and her taking her sweet time to get to practice, she didn’t see you.
When she left for a later class, right after practice, after practice had ended at six pm, she had finally seen you and Caitlin walking together. It was the most shocking yet, anxiety inducing thing she’s seen since she left you earlier that morning.
She was a ways behind you both, recognizing Caitlin first, still in her practice uniform. You were both heading the same way she was, so she just decided to stay behind instead of going to talk to Cait. She wasn’t going to go anywhere near you both, scared of being that close again and having to introduce herself. She’d be an absolute mess. It barely worked this morning, and she was not taking her chances.
It wasn’t until she saw you walking away, meeting up with this other girl, and saying goodbye to Caitlin, that she decided to catch Caitlin before she left. “Caitlin!” Her walk speeding up, looking in your direction making sure you didn’t hear her.
Caitlin looked behind her to see her frantic teammate running up to her. “Yes, Kate?” She smiled nervously, watching the blonde dart her eyes between you and her.
“Who is that?” Kate looked to you, blushing. Pointing subtly towards you to make sure Caitlin knew exactly who she was talking about. That’s when Caitlin smiled. “That’s my friend! She just transferred here. She’s playing soccer now.”
“What do you mean ‘she plays soccer now’? What did she play before?” Kate wanted to know everything about you. She already knew you were the prettiest girl she’s ever seen. But she wanted to know more.
“She played basketball too. Got a full ride to UC Berkeley with it.” Caitlin nodded her head, continuing on the path she was headed to. “We were on our way to our class, but her soccer teammate needed her for a minute so I said i’d meet her there.”
“Oh, okay. How do you know her? Has she always been that pretty? How many classes do you guys have together? Maybe I can “walk” you to it?” Kate started to ramble any question that came to mind about you. All of which were about anything and everything besides your name.
“Oh, my god. Kate. Slow down. Why so many questions?” Caitlin laughed, already having a small idea as to what was happening. “Just ask her tomorrow.”
Kate’s throat went dry. What did she mean? “I’m sorry, what?” Kate choked out. Caitlin gave Kate a blank stare.
“I invited her to our pickup game tomorrow. Just talk to her then.” Kate was already so excited but dreading tomorrow.
She really really wanted to see you, but she started to think about how you’d see her play and she’d have to possibly guard you. This was a lot. Kate definitely did not let this go. She was starting to get too nervous. She was getting self conscious. She wanted to impress you.
Kate got up the next morning to a text from Caitlin asking to get there earlier than planned for a shoot around before the pickup game. The reason why was very vague but she decided to go early. Caitlin had asked her multiple other times to meet up and practice shots. That’s where Kate had developed better confidence in her far-range shots. Her three game improving significantly.
But the more Kate thought about it, she didn’t even get your name yesterday. Not even from Caitlin.
Her nerves were through the roof as she walked out the house and set on her way to Carver.
Her face grew hot and red, suddenly her relaxed and otherwise friendly demeanor turned shy and antsy as she got closer and closer to you both, standing on the court while she set her stuff down. That’s why she wanted her early…forgetting to mention the why.
“Hey, Cait.” Kate walked up to Caitlin, her eyes darting between you and her. She was so nervous. You were just so pretty and so close she just couldn’t take it.
“Hey! This is my friend, y/n.” Caitlin looked to Kate, and then to you. You shook Kate’s hand. Immediately recognizing the pretty girl who had helped you find your class yesterday.
You smiled. Yesterday after she walked you all the way to your class, before you had walked in you thanked her and watched her go on her way. She looked nervous but so did you. You walked up to the door but stopped to look behind you. What made it more awkward is you both caught eachothers eye at the same time.
Cait💕
“You find your class okay?”
“yeah! some really nice girl helped me find my class.”
“Oh, awesome! The people here are way nicer than the people from California huh?”
Caitlin and you had grown up together. Two girls who loved the game of basketball. You got a full ride to UC Berkeley. Iowa skipping over you for an offer but getting Caitlin. You honestly wouldn’t have had it any other way.
You got to experience life outside of Iowa. It was a fun experience. You loved California but still keeping in touch with back home. You would’ve stayed if your injury your sophomore season didn’t pull you out of the sport completely.
Tearing your meniscus, ACL, PCL, and MCL. You tore them over a span of a couple years. Your ACL and PCL being the first to go in your junior season of highschool. The MCL your freshman year of college. You had been halfway into your sophomore season at Berkeley when you tore your meniscus.
You were told you were able to recover and go back, but your coach didn’t like that you were getting injured and submitted an appeal to have your full ride taken. That’s when the dean advised you to find a different career outside of basketball. So, you entered the transfer portal, losing your full ride, and ended back up in Iowa for senior year. You had played soccer growing up as well with your brother. You kept up with it outside of basketball only small scrimmages, nothing too serious so you weren’t injured for basketball. But Iowa had a great soccer team and you missed home, so you decided to come back and come back to soccer.
“They’re way nicer for sure…and wayyy cuter😉”
“Ohhhhhh myyyyyyyyyy”
“you laughed at, ‘Ohhhhhh myyyyyyyyyy’ ”
You were excited to meet the friends Caitlin made here in Iowa City after you left. Wanted to meet the women she talked so highly of. So when she texted you last night asking if you wanted to shoot around before doing a pick up game, you immediately said yes. Something about wanted to introduce you to a friend, hence having to get there early.
“Oh, you walked me to my class yesterday!” You stuck your hand out and waited for Kate to shake it.
Kate had been staring at you. She didn’t mean it in a rude or freaky way. She just was in shock. There was no way you knew Caitlin. “Uh, yeah! I’m Kate. I don’t think we formally introduced ourselves yesterday.” Kate giggled.
Caitlin raised her eyebrows. There was no way Kate was the cute girl you mentioned to her yesterday. No way. And there’s no way you had Kate Martin giggling at a handshake. This elicited a random giggle and ‘no way’. You and Kate turned your heads and looked at her confused. It finally clicked to Caitlin.
“Oh! Nothing nothing. Just that—Oh! Look! My ball!” She walked away to the ball she left at half court, leaving you two to stand in awkward silence before opting to get started. You guys were going for about an hour before Caitling and Kate walked up to the small team Caitlin put together. You watched them two walk away, shaking your head before walking over to your team.
That’s when Kate turned to look back at you. Watching you immediately make friends with the girls in your team. Which happened to be her friends too. Kate turned back to the team, a huddle being held…Kate’s face grew even more rosy when she saw her best friend caught on to what was happening. Caitlin had been giving her the biggest smirk when they made eye contact. Was it really that obvious that she had a crush on you? Could she even call it that? She just met you formally seconds ago.
The shoot around is where you and Kate really got to know each other. Exchanging stories and experiences, her asking all kinds of questions of what it was like in California.
How you knew Caitlin, which she was shocked to find out that you grew up here. That you and Caitlin were neighbors. She learned more than what Caitlin had been willing to tell her. Something about “you’ll know soon enough,” or “i’ll let her decide.”
It didn’t help that she had to guard you during the whole game, even though her being absolutely smitten from the moment Caitlin told her your name wasn’t already awkward enough.
The small praises you gave her while playing went immediately to Kate’s head. A pretty girl like you complimenting her. She returned them back, feeling less scared of her antics when she saw how you reacted to them too. It was the most nervous and overall mindfucking pick up game she’s ever played in her life. And she grew up with playing with bigger and stronger boys. Hell, she’s made it to national championship games and this by far took the cake for the most absurd and anxious game.
But you, made her immediately nervous. And she knew you knew. The small smiles and giggles you gave her whenever you saw her reaction to your compliments and praises, your touches to her body when you would pivot around her while dribbling, your hands brushing her hips when trying to blow past her and cut to the basket.
Needless to say, you both knew the effect you had on eachother. Which is why it was the longest yet shortest game ever. Because when it ended, and you had work to do and practice to attend, so you started to say your goodbyes to everyone.
You said goodbye to the new girls you made friends with, getting their numbers and then pulling your oldest friend aside. “Please tell me that’s her.” Your face burning up from the exertion and the thought of the tall blonde you could feel was looking at you from behind Caitlin.
“Possibly.” Cait raised her brows, mischevious smile on her face.
“She’s possibly the cutest thing I have ever seen, Cait. Please tell me that’s her.” You glanced behind Caitlin again, catching those oh, so pretty blue eyes. You both looking away immediately, you both blushing.
“I’ll talk to you after your practice.” She hugged you and you started on your way to your practice. Looking back to catch one last longing look to Kate. It was definitely her.
She was already standing and talking to Caitlin, big smile on her face, hair now down. God, she looked good.
“Please invite her to more of these.” Kate pleaded with Caitlin. That immediately earned a loud chuckle from the brunette. This was so entertaining. Her best friends having the hots for eachother was the most interesting thing to happen to her.
“I will.” Caitlin patted her hand on her best friends chest, starting to walk away. “I fucking knew it.” She said while she was a good distance from Kate.
“What?” Kate asked, already wishing another pick up game would happen or that she’d run into you soon.
“Oh, nothing.” Caitlin walked away, knowing she had to do something to keep you guys interacting. This game of trying to get you both together was more fun than, dare she say, the final four tournament??
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anonymityisfunwriter · 2 months
Text
love is embarrassing
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
a.n. i can't be blamed for this. i swear, this is the last part. (but like, i also reserve the right to do another one if the mood strikes). i just have so much fun writing these two.
bad idea right? | get him back! | love is embarrassing
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you loved romance. you loved reading it. you loved watching a good rom com. you loved the idea of love.
you just wish someone would have told you how embarrassing it all was. love is embarrassing. plain and simple. it’s humiliating. and no movie, no book, no past relationship ever prepared you for how much you were willing to embarrass yourself for bucky barnes.
no one prepared you for hearing that tired sigh and watching your friends roll their eyes. every single time without fail.
“we broke up.”
“we’re back together.”
“we’re just keeping it casual.”
“i love him.”
“i hate him.”
bucky barnes had literally driven you to the brink of madness. then reeled you back in. then pushed you head first over the cliff. and as much as you wanted to hate him for it, you know you've done the exact same thing to him too.
something about the two of you, whether together or broken up, turned to usually level headed, composed agents into immature, borderline insane people.
dignity, both yours and his, was no longer a consideration in your relationship.
it was simple, neither of you had any left.
not when you kept falling into each other's beds and arms over and over again.
and in spite of all of this, in spite of all the embarrassment, the moment bucky texts you and asks you to meet him for a coffee, you agree - but only after making him wait several hours for a simple 'okay'.
here you sit before him, sipping on your tea, wondering where the hell your pride went. you were sure you had it right before bucky texted you.
bucky lets out a deep sigh, his hands anxiously rubbing together. "I just - i thought that maybe we should talk. alone. and i didn't want you to think that i was just trying to -"
"hook up?"
he nods, his lips pressed together, "exactly."
"it's not like everyone doesn't already know what's going on between us."
he immediately looks apologetic. you hate that. you hate that deep down, bucky barnes is actually a really good person, just not a great ex-boyfriend.
the real kicker was that he was actually a really great boyfriend, at least, from what you remember. "i should've told you that sam and steve found out."
your shoulders slump in defeat as you acquiesce, "and i should've told you that natasha and wanda found out."
his mouth twists. "so everyone knows, huh?"
"pretty much... does that surprise you?"
"i mean, i guess not. it's not like we were subtle about any of it."
you playfully snort, "no, i guess we weren't."
"why did we break up?"
"you don't remember that huge fight we had?"
"no, i remember that. i remember being really pissed off. i remember saying things that i didn't mean. i just can't remember why i didn't go after you. i can't remember why you didn't come back. and i can't remember why we gave up so easily."
the crazy thing was you could hardly remember what the fight was about. his ego. your temper. conflicting work schedules. the reality was you both blew up that night. "i don't remember either."
"why the hell are we still broken up?"
pride, mostly.
it was always the ugly head that reared itself in your relationship.
you were too proud to admit that you were wrong.
he was too proud to admit that he was wrong.
you were both too proud to be the first one to lay your armor down.
"it’s just..." you start, shaking your head and immediately backtracking, "forget it."
"it’s clearly something," bucky urges.
"it’s embarrassing."
"i promise i won’t give you shit about whatever you say."
"no, bucky, it’s embarrassing..."
his jaw sets to the side, his teeth clicking together. "us? we’re embarrassing? you’re embarrassed to be with me?"
"no! yes! no - it’s - this whole back and forth. if i get back together with you now - which i'm not saying i will - what does that say about me?"
he scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "i didn't realize you cared that much about what other people thought of you."
"don't patronize me," you sneer. "you've embarrassed the shit out of me over and over again. forgive me for having some self respect."
"i think i'm falling in love with him," you confess.
"i'm so happy for you!" wanda squeals.
"barnes!" natasha greets him. "we were just talking about you two, so much for being a lone wolf, huh?"
bucky wraps an arm around you, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. he scoffs, "nothing's changed. we're just keeping it casual."
"i've embarassed you?" bucky guffaws. "you're not exactly innocent in this either."
"me?" you gasp. "what the hell did i do to you?"
"i think she's the one," bucky wistfully admits.
sam rolls his eyes. "you've been dating like a month."
"i'm not seeing your point."
"hey, sam," you greet him, making a point to glare at bucky as you pass the two of them on the way to the bar.
"oh shit," sam chuckles. "someone's in trouble."
"what? no i'm not - " bucky's words are cut off by the sight of you flipping him off as you walk away. "i stand corrected."
"you've done plenty," bucky grunts.
"and now, now, all i hear now is everyone's opinion of what they think i should do!" you exclaim. "do you know how humiliating it is to have everyone's opinions of whether or not i should be with you?"
“you’ll never get over him if you’re still under him, if you get what i mean,” nat quips.
you roll your eyes. “you have the subtlety of a brick wall.”
"you were the one that was all over sam at the bar the other night!" he accuses.
"and you were flirting with some random stranger in front of all of our friends!" you shoot back.
"people are staring," bucky points out.
you hang your head. great, you've embarrassed yourself once again in this back and forth with bucky. "i'm just tired of hearing what everyone thinks about this back and forth."
"but what do you think?" he emphasizes. "because, honestly, i'll embarrass myself over and over again if it means i could have you back. just name a time and a place and i'll be there." you're taken aback by bucky's offer. he was a proud man. there was no denying that. and maybe it's the fact that there's nothing but sincerity gleaming in his eyes or the fact that he's willing to give up something he values so much for you. maybe romance isn't dead after all. "or maybe, maybe we just stop. we stop this back and forth. we stop acting like kids, stop trying to get back at each other. we just... love each other without worrying about what everyone else thinks."
"oh fuck," you hiss under your breath as the realization hits you.
"what?"
you don't say anything. you just realized that you're about to embarrass yourself one last time for bucky barnes.
who cares? after all, love is embarrassing.
Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist
As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛
Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams @shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes@beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a@weallhaveadestiny@mostlymarvelgirl @honeydew3064@michealharrypotter @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @withyoutilltheendoftheline @the-photo-hoe @rae-nna @sarachabeans1
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flowerandblood · 8 months
Text
Equation without solution 
[ Michael • Gavey x painter student! • female ]
[ warnings: sex content, angst, smut, trauma, mention of bullying, mention of physical and mental violence ]
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[ description: Michael sees no point in worrying about anything, especially relationships, when all he needs is math. His calm, logical world falls apart when a female painting student asks him for help in calculating the best possible composition to create a portrait. Sexual tension, angst, a litte brat taming and domination kink, great childhood traumas. ]
The fragment with Michael in the trailer inspired me to write this. The whole discussion around this oneshot, whether it should be made at all, made me very tired. I don't think we'll get his backstory in the movie, but even if we did, I just felt like writing it - so here it is. Have fun reading.
Part 2 − Formula for perfection
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
My other works: Masterlist
_____
Ever since he could remember, his father had explained to him that an intelligent man is not guided by emotions, but by logic – that's why he married his mother, that's why he went into the army. A long belt hung in plain sight in one of the cupboards of their house, so that he could use it to remind him this when necessary.
His father never hit him with his hand. He did not slap him, considering it humiliating for a man to do this to another man. Punishments were in the nature of a ritual, which he said he did not find pleasant either – he reiterated that only strong people survive in this world, that if a classmate beat him up at school he should not cry, but punch him back even harder.
He was afraid to tell his father when, once again after being hit by Creg, one of the school donkeys, his glasses broke in half. In panic situations he would run to his mother, who would look at him with terrified eyes and only repeat 'quickly, your father must not find out'.
He and his mother shared secrets, which she told him they could not tell his father so as not to upset him – such things were the sweets she had hidden in one of the containers that pretended to be flour, or the savings she meticulously counted when he was away.
She would say that one should always be prepared, but he didn't understand for what.
One day he found a container of sweets standing by his bedside table and his mother had disappeared, leaving him and his father with only a short note, which his father tore up and said they would never mention her again.
He threw away pictures of her, all her clothes, everything, even his toys or his books, which she was the one who bought and read to him. He only managed to hide one, which was a maths exercise book that had slippery, oiled pages from which he could erase the results of equations at will and fill them in again with a dry erase marker.
This book became his favourite; he would only take it out at night when he was sure his father was already asleep and fill in all the blanks one by one, knowing them by heart.
He created his own ritual.
This calmed him down.
Later, however, these tasks proved too simple and tedious, he needed a challenge and asked his teacher, Mrs Rosaline, to recommend something to learn. She did so willingly, surprised by his diligence, and when he came in the next day saying he had solved all the tasks, she started sending him to maths competitions.
Maths was wonderfully logical and cool – you couldn't interpret it in different ways like poetry, you didn't have to get into the mind of the author of an equation to understand the result. Everything was preconceived and safe, a wrong result could always be explained, you could get to the root of it.
There was no reason to be sad, nervous or happy.
He wasn't happy when he got into the best university in the country without any exams, he wasn't happy that he was one of the few to get his own dorm room and a big scholarship.
When, in high school, his tutor announced to his father that he was a genius and that he should start a career in science, his father was furious.
He said that mathematician was not a profession, that all his life he would remain the victim of fate that he had apparently always been destined to be.
His father told him that he was already a man and not a boy, that he would not beat him with a belt to explain to him that he was not a genius but an idiot.
What he had learnt from his father was not to worry about such words – he would grin at him when he tried to explain to him what a mistake he was making with amusement and satisfaction as he watched the man who told him that emotions were a sign of weakness become enraged.
His father was weak.
He was emotional.
Even the army and the fact that he beat him didn't change that.
He thought that this was probably what his father, that is his grandfather, had tried to instil in him, but he had failed miserably.
He truly believed, however, that his father was right.
He didn't need emotions.
Numbers were enough for him.
He could calculate the probability of whether or not he would be able to communicate with someone by analysing quickly in his head with what frequency that person spoke about things that did not interest him.
He didn't consider whether he liked them and didn't even have any idea how he would have known that. He recognised that deciding on the basis of chemical reactions in his brain about his acquaintances was absurd.
Just because he didn't feel anything didn't mean he wasn't laughing or enjoying himself – on the contrary, he smirked a lot, usually while listening to other people's discussions or when he managed to get someone off balance.
Wealthy alpha males who owed the place he had earned only to their rich parents reigned around the university like kings, pretending to be intelligent, studying law, medicine or banking without having a clue what they were doing were his most common victims.
"I could never defend a rapist or a murderer. I don't know, it makes me flinch at the mere idea." Said Kyle once when they were sitting in the library, them pretending to study, actually sitting over open books they weren't concentrating on and talking, distracting him.
When he needed real focus he would study in his room, but when he felt like a bit of entertainment he would go out to listen to them.
It was better than a comedy in TV.
"After all, every man deserves a defence lawyer, he's innocent until the court hands down a final verdict." Matt, a boy who read a lot and could memorise things, replied, throwing quotes from his sleeve without much understanding of them. Kyle snorted, shrugging his shoulders.
"So what? Sometimes you subconsciously know this person did it by looking at them or the evidence is incriminating enough." He replied with a certainty that surprised him.
He corrected his glasses on his nose with his pointing finger, wondering how this moron was going to defend anyone in court if he himself was constantly undermining his client's innocence in his head while he himself wanted to be the judge against him.
"If it was as you say, there wouldn't be so many innocently convicted people in prison. Evidence seems incriminating until one new clue, piece of evidence or witness comes along that changes everything. It is the duty of the defence counsel to look for such details to the best of his ability, and not to judge his client unless he himself wants to plead guilty." He heard a second, frustrated voice and lifted his gaze, noticing a girl standing by the bookcase who had heard their conversation while looking for some book.
He recognised her only by sight, and knew that she had studied painting, so her person did not interest him at all. However, what she said frustrated Kyle and disturbed his nepotistic sense of superiority, so he gave this scene his full attention.
"I didn't know kids drawing with crayons knew anything about such serious matters as criminal law." He said piteously, a mocking sweetness in his voice, his gaze feigning warmth, meant to bring her out of her funk.
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and saw that she was looking at him like he was an idiot.
"I don't need to know this to realise that no amount of money will make you a good lawyer. I feel sorry for your future clients, because you will destroy them yourself." She replied, raising her eyebrows in amusement, completely unfazed by his insult.
It surprised him that she looked happy and pleased to see his angry face, not letting him get a word in edgewise, grabbing the book she was looking for and walking off towards her friends sitting at a table in the distance.
On his way out of the library he heard her voice, heard her laugh, light and unforced – he glanced at her and their gazes met for a moment before he walked out into the corridor.
He had forgotten about her until an incident when, sitting in the university restaurant, he noticed Kyle walking past her and pretending to stumble, the entire contents of his cranberry juice spilled on her dress, leaving big pink stains.
"Sorry, are you okay?" He asked, feigning seriousness and concern. She stood up, furious, without even speaking to him, walking away.
He watched curiously as Kyle sat down with his friends and high-fived Matt, clearly pleased with himself, putting his arm around some silly giggling girl.
After a while, however, that girl came back, dressed up, wearing only a man's long-sleeved shirt all soiled with paint, covering the small part of her thighs that she apparently used as an apron while painting, overknee socks and trainers on her legs.
He felt something strange seeing her soft thighs, thinking of the fact that he himself wore similar shirts, and took a sip of coffee from his cup, watching as she sat back next to her friends, saying something quickly, going back to eating her lunch, unconcerned.
She laughed.
He shuddered when their eyes met and quickly glanced at Kyle, who was watching her from afar, licking his lips, his leg moving in impatience, the girl he was embracing whispering something in his ear, but he wasn't listening to her.
He was thinking.
Usually when he had to move from one building to another he went through a side exit, so as to have a bit of peace and quiet, but on this day he decided to walk through the main square, walking on its right side, looking through the windows.
He was not at all searching for her with his eyes when he saw the rows of easels and people around the model, dressed in historic Renaissance costume.
He didn't feel the heat stroke at all and stopped involuntarily when he saw her sitting with her back to him, her canvas smaller than the others, she sat closer, focused only on the portrait.
He could see her underpainting, just an outline and a sketch, and the lines she had drawn to help herself.
The golden ratio.
He shuddered at the thought that she was deliberately using mathematical proportional division to achieve a subconscious effect of harmony in the whole composition, which was, after all, just a base for the actual layer with chiaroscuro and colours.
He gasped when one of his year mates slapped him on the back, asking what he was looking at, and when he saw what he was observing behind the window, he laughed.
"These artists. They will die poor, but at least in their mind they will have created something outstanding. Until a critic comes along who says what they've painted is ugly." He muttered with amusement, putting his arm around him as if they were good mates, although they were not.
He looked back and noticed with pounding heart that this girl was turning over her shoulder, looking in his direction.
His friend had said something about the Mona Lisa, about how ugly she was and that he didn't understand how that portrait could be considered the most beautiful in the world, but he was unable to focus on it.
The golden ratio.
The balance of the composition.
Her painting was thoughtful.
He was convinced that painters only recognised their own artistic intuition and thus created ugly paintings, which they then called contemporary art.
He didn't think about her, or at least tried to until his mates told him that Kyle was throwing a party, to which he was obviously not invited.
"Apparently he even invited the girl he doused with juice at the time as an apology. Bruce says he recently brought her flowers during her classes and that he seems to have a crush on her."
"Sometimes it's one step from hate to love."
He didn't like the uncomfortable feeling he experienced in his chest, a sort of sting and tightness in his throat – he went back to the equation he had just solved without listening to them further.
Even if someone didn't know there was supposed to be any kind of party going on, they had certainly heard it that friday night, the music, laughter and screams from Kyle's room echoing loudly through the dorm.
Even though women weren't allowed in there there were plenty of them that day – he could hear them running to the toilet, squealing and giggling, driving him furious as he couldn't concentrate on what he was reading. He pulled down his glasses, massaging the space between his eyes with his fingers, closing his eyelids, trying to calm himself.
His emotions wouldn't change anything.
He swallowed loudly when he heard her voice.
He shuddered when he heard a knock on his room and looked uncertainly towards his door.
He feared it was Kyle and his pack who had drunkenly decided they would have fun at his expense.
"Can I come in?"
He felt his heart start pounding hard, a multitude of thoughts running through his head. He tried to analyse whether he should do it or not, what she might have wanted from him, but nothing came to mind, there was a complete void in his brain.
God.
"Come in." He heard his own uncertain voice, and after a moment the door opened and there she stood.
She came in smiling and cheerful, happy for some reason, closing the door behind her, looking around his room as if she had come at his invitation – she was wearing a large long-sleeved sweatshirt with the university logo reaching halfway down her thighs, overknee light wool socks and trainers on her legs.
Fuck.
He wanted to say something, to ask why he owed this visit and what she wanted from him, but all he did was stare at her legs, at the small area of her exposed naked body between her sweatshirt and the material of her socks.
He felt a strong pulsing in his black sweatpants and swallowed loudly knowing what it meant.
He'd only fucked twice in his life, and this'd been fairly inept acts of physical intimacy between a man and a woman, where they'd pursued their fulfilment on him, not caring much about him, maybe even imagining he was someone else, some more handsome boy who just happened not to want to look at them.
It didn't bother him, because he didn't feel anything for them himself – they didn't even arouse his desire, but they were just very horny, and he decided that he didn't want to remain a virgin for the rest of his life.
It had been more of a relaxing than a pleasurable experience and he didn't understand why men were so overpowered by it, but now, looking at her, he felt his brain and his logic start to give up in favour of what was going on in his trousers.
"You didn't go to the party?" Her light, gentle voice snapped him out of his reverie, causing him to lift his eyes to her face, which, to his surprise, seemed very pretty up close, her eyes large and bright, framed by long lashes, her pink lips curved in a smile.
What made her so happy?
Why did she come to his room and ask such things?
"No. NFI." He replied dispassionately, lowering his gaze to her legs again, unable to contain himself, covering what was happening to him with a book. She blinked, furrowing her brow.
"What?" She asked with amusement and curiosity.
"Not Fucking Invited." He explained and she burst into soft laughter – he wasn't sure he'd ever heard anyone react like that to anything he'd said.
"Maybe it's better for you too. I went there for a while, but they act like pigs in a shed. A friend told me I could find you here so I thought I'd take the opportunity." She said calmly, walking over to his desk, leaning over his books. He wondered with a pounding heart how she had the confidence to just walk into a stranger's room and talk to him as if she had known him for years.
He chuckled and shook his head, running his hand over his face in an attempt to hide his nervousness and what his imagination was suggesting.
"Are you going to tell me why you came here, or are you going to continue wasting my time?" He muttered ironically, figuring that by doing so he would somehow discourage her or force her to stop pestering him.
He blinked and lifted his knees higher when she suddenly sat down next to him on his bed, as if just waiting for that question, excitement in her eyes.
"I've heard you're a mathematical genius and that's a very good thing, because I need someone to help me determine the right proportions for my painting."
She said quickly and he felt his heart beat harder, he got warm in his lower abdomen and all he could think about was wanting to back off and run away.
"Isn't the golden ratio and Fibonacci spiral enough for you?" He muttered, knowing that it was these two proportions that were usually enough for artists to create their compositions. She hit her knees with her palms as if he had said exactly what she assumed.
"No! I want to analyse it more, but I don't have the tools to do it. Nor an exact mind. I want you to help me, take a look at my sketch and tell me what you think could be improved. From a mathematical, compositional point of view." She said with an excitement that frightened him in a way, a gush of enthusiasm that he didn't know what to do, how to discourage her with.
"What's in it for me?" He asked, recognising that perhaps a materialistic approach would discourage her, yet she merely twisted in her seat, completely unmoved, apparently recognising that he was entitled to demand payment for his contribution to her work.
"And what would you like?" She asked lightly, and he swallowed loudly, his gaze involuntarily escaping to her thighs, to where he could see her bare skin.
He looked at her face again, hoping she hadn't seen it, but something in her gaze told him she had noticed it, her lips tightened. He his heart began to pound like crazy, he felt like he was just going through some kind of heart attack.
"Do you want this?" She asked softly, warmly, and he threw her a shocked look, wondering if she was implying what he was thinking, his gaze escaping to her thighs again.
Fuck.
Did he want this?
"What do you mean?" He asked coolly, trying to pretend he didn't know what she was talking about. He felt his pupils dilate as she corrected herself in her seat so that her sweatshirt lifted up slightly, he had a feeling that a little more would have been enough for him to see her underwear.
"You can touch me if you want. Just gently. Don't throw yourself at me." She said softly, a blush on her cheeks, her eyes warm and understanding – he thought she seemed slightly embarrassed, her words sounding innocent despite the obvious subtext.
He wasn't sure if his mind controlled the movement of his hand, the way it involuntarily rose and gently touched her thigh, stroking it in a slow, steady up and down motion. He heard her sigh softly and a shudder went through her, saw her lean back and close her eyes.
He wanted to tell her that she thought too highly of herself if she thought he was so desperate, but instead he just looked at her with his lips slightly parted, fighting with himself.
He glanced at her face again when, after a moment, she opened her eyes and looked at him with a warm, misty gaze, as if she had drifted away with her thoughts somewhere for a moment. She smiled, but there was no mockery in it, her expression had something of girlish innocence.
He couldn't focus on anything other than the thought of how soft and firm her skin was – he wasn't sure he had ever touched anything more pleasurable in his life.
He felt both shame and thrill at the thought of how painfully hard he was, swallowing with difficulty.
He didn't quite understand what was just happening between them – his mind wanted to classify this as a prelude to physical intimacy, but he wasn't sure he was right. He felt immense tension and lust, but also a sort of tightening in his pit, intrigue and anxious anticipation.
"If you want, we can kiss. You have such full lips." She said softly with some kind of admiration and sincere desire, from which he felt a squeeze in his throat.
He wasn't good at choosing his words when it came to this kind of discussion, and he didn't know completely how to act, so he just stared at her, her thigh under his hand seeming to almost burn him.
Seeing the lack of any reaction from him and the clear shock painted on his face she moved a little closer to him – there was something encouraging in her movement and gaze, some kind of comfort and concern.
She was close, but far enough away to still not invade his space, giving him the sense that she was waiting for his decision.
He stared at her, feeling that his erection hidden in his trousers was about to explode, all swollen and throbbing, and after a moment their lips pressed against each other in a sudden, wet dance of their tongues and teeth, their hands clenched in each other's hair, the loud, lewd click of their saliva echoing in his ears louder than the muffled music coming from several rooms away.
"Be gentle." She just whispered into his mouth between their drawn-out, sticky kisses, and he hummed at her words, smelling the pleasant scent of her shampoo in his nose.
He grabbed her softly around her waist and seated her on his thighs with his arm around her, throwing his book to the side, rubbing against her from underneath, letting her feel what she had done to him.
He heard her sigh in contentment at feeling how hard he was, both of them beginning to pant loudly as she began to roll against him with her hips, herself clearly taking pleasure from it.
He clamped his hands on her buttocks and drew in the air loudly feeling that she had no shorts on underneath, just her underwear alone, and for some reason it turned him on even more.
Had she planned this all along?
She moaned feeling his hands slip under the material of her panties and squeeze her bare skin with confidence – she ran her fingers through his hair as the tip of her pink, wet tongue ran over his upper lip. He felt a strong shiver run through his entire body and involuntarily began to pant along with her, having never experienced anything like this before.
Her touch, though filled with desire, was not cold and crude, focused only on her pleasure, her hands stroking his hair, his cheeks, his neck with tender, caring movements, her puffy, full lips merely teasing him, not wanting to give him any more full kisses, so he only growled, frustrated, pulling her forcibly tighter, sliding his tongue deep into her throat.
He didn't even feel the need to undress her, the very thing they were doing now, the senselessness and yet purposefulness of it made him shiver, her certainty of what she wanted.
Was she really going to do this?
Sleep with a total stranger?
What was the logic in this?
He shuddered at the thought that maybe there was none.
None.
She wouldn't let him think about it – he drew in the air loudly as he felt her nimble fingers untie his sweatpants, slipping them down slightly, exposing what was underneath them, his hard, twitching manhood enveloped by the cool air.
He saw her rise slightly, with a movement of her hand apparently pushing the material of her underwear aside, positioning herself above him as he grasped his length in his hand, automatically directing it between her thighs.
"− I'm taking pills − I'm clean −" She whispered softly and he just nodded, not knowing what more he could answer, looking at her with his lips slightly parted, feeling like his heart was about to jump out of his chest.
She lifted herself up with a loud click of her moisture only to fall back down, riding him in a slow, unhurried rhythm – he just leaned down and sank his face into the hollow of her neck, taking in her scent, pleasantly sweet and fresh, panting loudly.
They both moaned embarrassingly loudly and squeezed their eyelids shut as she lowered herself onto him, slowly pushing the fat head of his cock deep into her body.
He could feel how wet she was, how her fleshy muscles pulsed hungrily against him, how tightly they wrapped around his root on all sides miraculously enhancing his sensation.
She embraced him, stroking his hair, clearly sensing his uncertainty, terror and desire mixed together. Unwittingly, his hips began to respond to her movements with sure, deep thrusts, to which she moaned loudly, something of helplessness and delight in her sounds.
"− do you want to stop? −" She mumbled softly, kissing his hair with gentle, warm click. He lifted his face finding her lips in a greedy kiss before turning her onto her back, recognising that he couldn't take it any longer, that his cock was about to explode.
"− yeah − I want to stop very, very much −" He growled frustrated at the way she was teasing him, resting one hand on the backrest of the bed in front of him, the other holding her hip tightly, slamming into her with rapid, quick stabs of his hips from which she began to moan and pant loudly, startled, looking up at him with her lips slightly parted.
"− don't you feel it? −" He asked ironically, thrusting his cock so deep into her that he felt like he would pierce her stomach, her body arched backwards as if trying to escape from him, his thighs all sticky from her moisture, their bodies smacking against each other quickly with a loud, wet slaps.
"− please −" She mewled and he felt a shudder as well as heat in his lower abdomen, something in the way she said it, in the tone of her voice, in her gaze made him lick his lips feeling that just a moment more, a few more thrusts and he was about to come.
"− please, what? − can't you put a fucking sentence together anymore? − you like it when someone fucks you so rough that you don't have words, huh? −" He hissed and groaned low as he felt her walls clench tightly around his fat erection at his words, sucking it inside, her thighs spread wide in front of him, allowing him to slide into her as deeply as he wanted in a gesture of complete submission.
"− I'm sorry −" She mumbled, looking at him helplessly like a rebuked child looking at a parent, and he thought he could devour her whole right now, fuck her all night if she wanted to, if she would react the way she did now.
"− good you're sorry − fucking brat −" He growled, panting loudly along with her and suddenly, without even knowing why, he kissed her greedily, pounding his cock into her with quick, brutal thrusts.
He felt her come, her walls began to clench on him greedily, not wanting to let him go, her whole body was trembling – she tried to push him away, sobbing and moaning with pleasure into his mouth.
He fucked her through her orgasm until he finally gave in and cum inside her, panting loudly, not recognising himself, his sounds or his reactions.
"− oh God − fuck − fuck − fuck −" He mumbled clenching his eyes, coming down from his peak, still moving inside her, hearing her loud breathing underneath him.
What exactly was that?
He collapsed on top of her, completely powerless, smelling the scent of her hair, her hands embracing his waist. They laid like that in the light of his bedside lamp, breathing heavily, listening to the muffled music, the screams and laughter from the party taking place a few rooms away.
He swallowed loudly feeling that he wasn't sure where his body ended and hers began – they were both all sticky from her moisture, her insides hot, pleasantly enveloping him on all sides, giving him some strange sense of security.
He thought it was for some of the hormones that are released after orgasm designed to bring partners closer together and bond.
He shuddered when he suddenly heard her soft, quiet voice.
"So what do you say? Will you help me?" She asked shyly, and he sighed heavily, silent for a long moment.
No.
"Yes."
_____
Part 2 − Formula for perfection
@at-a-rax-ia @daemonskelitsos @alphard-hydraes-blog @travelingmypassion
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Note
Hey how are ya doing? Would you write how the DMC guys (Dante, Vergil, and Nero.. V if you wanna) react to their s/o smacking their butt? Does it lead to sexy fun time? 😏 It is at any time or only in private? Is it playful or heavy handed. 🥵💦 As always if you don't feel comfortable with it don't worry about it. Have a great day Rockstar!
Hello, I've been good lately sorry this request took so long but thank you for asking it's a pleasure to see you again in my inbox!
(This work includes gender neutral!reader)
(NSFW contents under the cut)
Dante
It does take Dante surprise at first; your hand stealthily coming across to give his ass a hard slap while he was bent over the bar at the back of his shop to grab one of the more expensive bottles to celebrate a relatively hard job well done one day. Usually it's always him dealing out the teasing but when that sudden yelp buckles out of his throat and he looks at you to see you only smug with that cocky grin it definitely rattles something in him and what it rattles goes straight to his dick. He just sure hopes that you can finish this little game you started.
Next when he catches you off guard your standing at the desk on the phone with Lady, going over the details of your up coming job that would take you out of town for a few days together, elbow propped so you can rest your head on your plam while your eyes search the letter the client gave and more importantly to a certain scheming son of Sparda; your ass free and out in the open, unexpected. All he has to do is trick over for payback to resume; the sudden strike causing an embarrassing noise from you that you can just hear Lady on the other line silently question but then seemingly figuring put it's some dumb Dante's doing before continuing on asking more details of the job. Heat swells in your face as you look back at Dante who returns your intial smugness and shit eating grin, making it very clear that he's playing your game - a game you were intending to win.
Back and forth you two go; at the most unexpected points surprising each other with sudden spanks to get that interesting shades of cheeks and noises from once another just to see which one would break first; to see who couldn't take this teasing game anymore and just beg to be thrown and be used by the other.
Interestingly it's Dante to break first.
He's the one almost in fucking tears as he runts and grinds against you to the desk; cock so deep inside you he can barely keep his head on straight. His moans are so low yet so desperate as you thrust back into him your hole squeezing ever so tightly, controlling his pace, the sound of your name leaving his lips is so fucking attractive it's stupid.
And to put salt on the wound of his loss; reach around and give him one more slap that will instantly flip on a switch. Whatever pace you had? Forget it. He fights through and jackhammers even faster and harder to a point it shatters a crack somewhere on the wooden surface below you. I hope you like losing function of your voice because that's exactly how it's going to be the moment pulls out and he finishes on your stomach, leaving you breathless and reeling from all your previous highs.
When your done with after care and such and Dante places you on a bed instead of a desk, he congratulates you (sportsmanship and all, you know?) in between breathy kisses and only a few times jokingly complains about his ass hurting that you 'won too hard' and that you should 'take it easy during the rematch.'
Rematch? That word catches your interest that you can't help but question him on; it gets you a chuckle and a conniving look behind pale eyes.
"Yeah, a rematch. Though do be warned: I do got an ace up my sleeve that I don't think I'll be loosing with this time. What that be? Eh, you'll just have to find out what that'll be yourself - won't you?"
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Vergil
One of two different outcomes will happen if you so happen to catch Vergil off guard with this action either depending on your surroundings. One; your in privacy and no one's around to see the light flush that spreads across his cheeks up to his ears and the surprised gasp that leaves his lips - then he'll only turn around to you and stumble through a light scolding that he could have accidentally hurt you with Yamato or worse but dropping the matter and it slowly becoming the topic of his late night thoughts about the sudden touch and the spark in him that it caused. Or two, the foolish but more slow but direct to go horny option; do it while the crew (especially his brother or Nero) is around.
Now going with the second option be fully aware that he's not going to talk to you for a few days after it, the foolishness of the act leaving him unable to talk to you (Vergil translation; he's just embarrassed and doesn't know how to directly approach you about it right away) But when he does it it's surely a surprise exactly what he does when he comes back around.
He is absolutely rough with you when he yanks your hair back in a fistful and in his smooth voice ask if you could ever so kindly repeat your words more clearly as his other hand snaps down onto your ass with that mind numbing sting as you repeat the number through bitten lips.
Yup, payback is a real charmer.
All the while he thrusts into you so deep you can even comprehend how the hell numbers work any more as you try to focus yourself but struggle to keep up with how pleasure just seeps into your whole being with each bounce to your sweet spot that's only lit a blaze with every smack of your lover's hand.
It's definitely intense; with all of his teeth marks tattooing the skin of your neck as the symphony that his Vergil's moans and growls pressed right against your ear as he takes you. And all of this just because what? You playfully spanked him in the van? Definitely were going to have to keep this one in the play book.
You can barely move any of your limbs with you're both done. Vergil holds your fucked out body in a possessive yet soft embrace as he deeply buries his face into your neck. It's nice, very nice. Though if you try to tease him in any way he'll look back up with you with a glare - but not just any glare; one where he tries his best to seem intimidating but fails and falls right through when you can clearly see with his flushed face and frown that he's just embarrassed. It's very cute, although if you're way past your limit I would advise not teasing any further. Because who knows; you might find your legs to be quickly spread apart for a fairly intense round two.
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Nero
His reaction will be immediate. His face will turn completely red all the way to his ears as he turns to face you not even able to form any words - just turned on gibberish. His reaction is something you can't help find your giggling because of how red he can be to just playful teasing but unknownst to you, you just awakened a kink and it's something that keeps his dick hard and awake at night for weeks afterwards.
It becomes something he fixates on; the thought, the memory, the sudden spark of pain that twists into pleasure is just...the need and desire for you to do it again becomes to much for him. Well with Nero being Nero and his insecurities to really ask for things because he feels he can be a burden at times to deal with and his abandonment issues starts talking telling him he doesn't deserve it - if he asks for too much you'll leave him, so he doesn't tell you this new desire of his. He just keeps it to himself, just a fantasy he can get himself off too when he's alone but there becomes a point where it just swells in his chest to much and he just succumbs to it.
The laundry room in Kyrie's apartment is rather a tight fit, but that doesn't matter any once you find yourself shoved inside there and your lips smothered in kisses and moans against you as your pushed back onto the dryer.
Bites litter his flesh a bright flushed pink as you tug and pull on the abused skin as you hands work him all over, massaging and tracing over every muscle with your ears listening to the sweet music his shaky breaths let out. In a teasing sing song way you get right up in his ear as your hands travel in that certain direction. What does he want? Is the basics of the things you ask him over and over seeing every little part of his self control start to break as he bites his tongue. His cock is hard and leaking as he bucks against your sex, throbbing as he grinds into the meat of your thighs, his breath comes through in hissing gritted teeth as your fingers trail down his back to the the danger zone of his ass with small taps - his face bright red seconds before he breaks.
Spanking + praise kink = loud. Very loud. The moment he's in you, he's in to the base and the fucking moment your hand comes to clash back down this man is jack hammering into you like crazy and it will get to a point where you will absolutely have to gag him in some way before the neighbors start poking their superstitious noses into it.
Once after the first time where he's comfortable (less embarrassed) to talk about it he'll open up to you about really liking you doing this to him and encourage you in the future to go even rougher, after all with demon Sparda genes even if he's only quarter he still has at least a bit of healing factor ((grew a whole arm back)) so however hard you give him nothing you can while being human will hurt him but it's the thought and feel good sting that counts!
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V
Although V may be fragile given obvious reasons, don't let that fool you. The man at the end of the day is still a part of Vergil, meaning deep down - even if his former self would rather deny, deny, and deny on the spot than admit it out loud - is a total freak when it comes to kinky shit. Yes given how flaky and easy his body could just break apart he can't go too hard that his complete counterpart can, however, he can assure you he can take a little bit so spanking shouldn't be too much should it?
It does surprise him when you come out of the blue with it though, both alone in the van while waiting for for Nero to return from his part of the job and Nico to return from repairs on the front of the van, all he did was bend over a bit to grab a drink from the small cooler when a subtle tap hit him on the ass - nothing too hard, just a tease, but it did spark his eyes wide and make him drop the green can of Virility he was holding.
When he turns around to look at you, still bent over, there's a dirty - yet subtle - sly smirk across his plump lips and with his velvety voice he reminds you:
"If you wanted my attention all you need do is ask. Or is it being a little deviant that alluring to you? I'll have to keep that in mind."
Will drop things in front of you more. After all, he's a "-fragile, delicate thing who can't keep things steady sometimes in his hands. Oops I dropped I dropped my cane, silly me." And when he goes to pick up said item he'll always over-exaggerate pick it up - he knows he doesn't have the most shapely ass in the world - his true self doesn't either - but you like looking and feeling down there so that's good enough for him to put on quite the act for your eyes to wonder and maybe you'll gather enough courage to reach out and touch him again. And you can absolutely bet if Griffon's out of his tattooed binds you will get very lovely, crassliy worded commentary, teasing, and the occasional exaggerated gag from the bird.
Once the 'games' are finally over V loves the sensation of being draped naked over your lap - no matter how big or smaller you are compared to him - he'll get comfortable either with a pillow on the bed or on the armrest of the chair you're in as you pamper him with grounded soft touches all along his body, tracing around inky tattoos, until you cup the cheeks of his ass. He'll hum and moan in approval at the touches, his breath with hitch if with a couple coated fingers you start fingering his hole and with audibly complain with shaky breath when you slip out of him. But everything will change with that first spark of contact on his ass.
V - like Vergil - isn't a man who curses very often. This will make him do so. A lot. In between spiked punched out breaths and groans that further you go will turn into whines as he looses himself in the spanks, pleasured tears creeping in the corners of his eyes as you tell him to count that he turns into a complete mess on your lap.
He loves it, really, more than he actually originally thought - at first going along with it because it was obviously something you were into and wanted and he wants nothing but to enable your desires but now... he felt small. But in a good way. Good small. Vulnerable small. Safe small. Loved small. He can easily let himself go like this. It's good. Really good.
You don't have to put at hand on any other part of him, his cock strains against your thighs so hard and so leaking you don't have to touch it to put him on edge. He can come so easily like this and will do so if you encourage it, if he can take five more you'll let him come, and he accepts the challenge - he pants like he's ran a mile, his hairs an absolute mess, and his entire normally pale body is tinted a flushed pink except for his ass which is more red from your spanks.
He begs, pleas, promising he can take it if you go harder and he's on the point of sobbing if you give it to him. He about looses his voice entirely when you give him permission to go on and come - without a hand on him his cock practically explodes as his seed paints your thighs and his entire body gives out with his weight.
His ass might be sore for the next few days but that's fine, he reminds that he has you to pamper him after all after you've spent nearly ten minutes worried post-spank that you might've taken it too far but he promises he's okay, he's stronger than what he looks, even if deep down he realistically knows that took a lot out of him. Maybe something like this should be more of a treat kind of thing? Not too often he thinks he can take something like that.
Or... maybe next time you could be the one handle the heat next time? V has some wonderful ideas how to go so about it...
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transmascaraa · 4 months
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Hi! I've currently been into Ga ming recently since he's released and your works for him are really cute 💗💗 so I was wondering if I can maybe request him, Bennett, tighnari, cyno, and Scaramouche (if you write for them ofc!) with a always nauseous and overheating reader?
I've been going through that for a long while now and it kinda adds onto not really eating all the time because of being afraid to throw up when it happens, sometimes feeling like a burden for having a different body temperature than most and feeling like it's just a problem, not being able to wear clothes I really want to because of how hot I may get, the possibility of passing out whenever and the embarrassment I get from that, ect 😭
I hope your day is well, and that hopefully you have a fun time writing this if you decide to 💗🫶
multiple characters headcannons!
how are they with overheating!reader?
characters: gaming, bennett, tighnari, cyno, wanderer x gn!reader
author's note: i love this idea so much😭 i'm not somebody that's overheating easily, but i still get hot faster than others, it's the main reason i hate summer and love winter👍 but i think i can understand people who suffer from overheating. i once almost passed out a few months ago and it's either that i felt sorry for this one dog, or because of sunstroke. either way, i'm glad to do this request, because i really like it<3
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Gaming
-he would be prepared ALL THE TIME. it's true. it's canon, i'm the mole on his neck.
-anyways, he would always have one of your t-shirts in his bag. he learnt how to do cpr and what to do IF you pass you. he reassured you that it was okay. that you having a warmer body temperature wasn't something you should be embarrassed of.
-in his eyes, he found the good in that whole problem.
-winter, you're not all the cold in winter, while he... freezes, despite being pyro.
-he's there with you, always ready for anything, encouraging you to eat.
-he also always has a cold drink in his bag, it might come in handy for you...
-either way, he wouldn't mind it. he just wants to help you. he sees nothing wrong with you.
-but he avoids teasing you that much, what if you get too hot and feel nauseous?
-he doesn't want that. instead, he knows when to stop.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bennett
-he's clumsy, and everyone knows that. but he does try his best to help. he WANTS to help.
-when you feel nauseous, he starts panicking a bit but tries to keep a more calm composure to not make it even harder for you.
-he knows how to treat you. he's trying his best, please, thank him.
-he asked lisa about how to help a nauseous person, and he listened closely.
-sometimes, he rants to razor about you, but not about your overheating problem, but about how strong you were. how brave you were.
-how he admired you.
-and when with you, he tries to tell you all of those same things, but he ends up blushing too much, and just telling you to "paint it over".
-but at rare times, when he makes you feel hotter by telling you such sweet praises, he apologizes immediately, and tries to cool you down.
-he's trying, he really is.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tighnari
-he has everything with him. if gaming had everything you needed, tighnari has 2 times more of them. what if you run out of cold water? what if the first shirt he brought with him was still making you hot? he even has an ice pack with him.
-he's like a mom. anything you need, he has it. he would take great care of you, making sure you're alright.
-if you're nauseous, don't worry! he has the medicide. you're allergic to something? you'll never see it again.
-if you're ever close to passing out, he knows exactly what to do, so you shouldn't worry all that much, because you have him.
-others, and even maybe you, might see him as overprotective, or overreacting, but he just says that "it's for your own good" and carries on with taking your mind off of things by talking to you about aranaras.
-he may be a bit strict, but it really is jsut because he cares for you. he wants the best for you, and hopes that he can be the one to help you get to there.
-i could talk about him for ages but i think you get the point.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cyno
-i'm virtually sighing right now. he would care for you, yes, do anything for you, do anything you want him to.
-he'll bring you anything and everything you need.
-he had anything you need with him, but if you run out of anything, he's thinking of a solution to stop that.
-in all seriousness, he'll skip anything and everything for you.
-yes, he does bore you with his horrible jokes no matter what, but if he sees that he's too annoying, he'll stop.
-if you're about to pass out, he's either gonna keep his composure and help you or just...
-call tighnari because he's panicking a bit too much.
-he avoids bringing you to the desert with him, completely, at all costs.
-he wants to to be okay, and reassures you when you have trouble eating.
-he's like a dad, the opposite of tighnari. he may not have anything you need at ALL times, but he always comes up with a solution.
-and he loves choosing outfits for you, and he gets hot easily too, that's why he doesn't wear much clothing himself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wanderer
-uhhh he's complicated. he'll never show any interest in helping you, but deep down he so fucking worried about you. he would take your body heat if he could. he would splash you with ice-cold water if you wanted to.
-but he'd mask it with saying "weak."
-you know him good enough tho, he cares about you more than anyone else.
-you know he'd sacrifice anything and everything to help you.
-he literally forces you to eat.
-he has everything you need with him, and does his best to help you. if he runs out of something, he'll call nahida.
-nahida plays a huge part in this too, but you don't know.
-he secretly talks to nahida to teach him about overheating more. so he knows how to help. he asks her any question he has, and the almost immediately memorizes it. he needs to know how to help you. so, if you ever almost pass out, he'd just be telling you to shut up while trying to help, but on the inside, it's a mess, really.
-he doesn't want you in pain.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
i actually really like this one
HELP MY LAST MULTI-CHARACTER ONE GOT ALMOST 400 NOTES I'M GOING CRAZY
either way, i hope you like this one, anon! and that you i potrayed overheating good enough😭
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theminecraftbee · 2 months
Text
you know what au concept i have flashed back to recently? the jimmy dating simulator hell au. which is to say: an au idea i had and i think posted about before where jimmy gets isekaied into being the protagonist of a dating simulator with all of his friends (that he flirts with/are commonly shipped with him) as the dating options and at FIRST when suddenly, all of his friends are OPENLY into him, it's great! he's preening under the attention, he's like "yes. haha. actually i AM great glad you finally noticed." and then bit by bit he's like. oh no. wait. what happened to my friends. and has an existential crisis about the world suddenly and horrendously revolving around him.
anyway i have been thinking about that again. i'm still not sure how i'd write it without either being A) too mean to the concept of dating games (which is to say, i don't really play them, and i worry i would come across as an outsider making fun of them because of that more than 'i love video game existential horror') or B) being too mean to the idea of like... fanon and shipping (two things i am Fine With, to be clear, i just love the idea of 'you are forced to meet a warped reflection of someone you love, and they have become warped around you'.) but it's also SUCH A GOOD PREMISE and if i can figure out how to make it work i'd love to. (or love to see someone else make it work if that happened.)
anyway all of this is to say: i know in the original post i joked about jimmy figuring it out because grian's too nice to him. but you know what, dating games absolutely have the tsundere one. i think it would be interesting if jimmy figured it out because scott was too nice to him. because like... in a lot of ways, THAT ONE would be the right kind of warped for jimmy to go. wait. this isn't someone fucking with me for the bit. .......why isn't this that.
all of this is ALSO to say: undecided on whether i like this premise as pretty fully horror (only jimmy knows something is wrong) or i choose someone who i think is like, wholly unattracted to jimmy even in fanon (and also honestly to make it work, basically wholly unconnected to him in the plot) to make stuck as the One Other Guy who knows something is wrong. if i had to do that i am thinking real hard and landing on. maybe cleo? that might just be me being a cleo guy but i think honestly cleo or like, ren might be the most effective ones for that slot.
all of this is ALSO ALSO to say: so like do we make this just a "jimmy has to live his life like this" horror or add the "time loop to get all the routes!" flavor of horror to it. so many options,
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hotheadedhero · 26 days
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Like 'em Big
AN: I have so many stories to write but I had to do this. Blaming being sick, m'kay? Fever has got me bad and these meds got me loopy. Thinking we need some good, silly fun in our lives, right? Plus, now that I've watched Rise, I'm hungry for some big Raph appreciation. I know I ain't the only one
All characters are aged up
Raphael x Reader
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Warnings: near peril, easily smitten, possible errors due to fever (what kind of fever is up for deliberation🥴)
Cutting right to the chase. You like big dudes. That doesn't necessarily mean muscles, either. You just love you a big man - someone with a bit of something-something to them. More to love, you know? Given your track record with the greater world, it shouldn't be all that much of a mystery. Cats? Get yourself a tiger that you can cuddle into. Jumpers? Comfort central, baby. Beds? If you can't spread eagle then you see no point. The old-age saying does declare that the bigger the better, so who are you to disagree? How true that is may be up for debate but it’s merely as simple as understanding what your preferences are.
However, this makes dating a difficult ballpark to play in. No matter how tall, jacked, or voluptuous someone is, it never feels like enough. Human biology and genetics can only go so far in the conceivably possible sense. You just want to be absolutely engulfed when you get a hug. Is that such a crime? Apparently, it is. Unfortunately, you also seem to come across the worst jerks when you attempt to date within this set of criteria. One might argue it's your karmic justice for being so superficial and picky but a woman has needs. Not those kinds of needs, either. Get your head out of the gutter.
All hope seems lost and after yet again, another failed date, you decide to call it in for the evening and make your way home. A fresh failure and another wonderful outfit gone to waste. By no means is it anything flashy but you put a lot of work into it: pencil skirt, turtle neck sweater, and a nice pair of boots to compliment the look. The whole shebang! All of that effort for nothing. This is the last time you spend three hours doing your hair and makeup. Block after block, your feet grow heavier with every step. What you would give to come across a mountain-like man you can climb who is also a kindred spirit. Perhaps this dream guy will forever be that - a dream. Men like that don't just fall out of the sky.
"Look out!!"
The sudden shout almost scares you into tripping over and you look behind yourself, wishing you hadn’t. Two very large, very dangerous-looking figures entangled in battle, those of which are approaching your helpless little self. You quickly duck as the giants hurdle over you. One falls on its side whilst the other claws and skids against the ground, regaining its balance. It shakes its head and locks onto you, a guttural snarl rumbling past its jowls. Such a creature is surely from the stuff of nightmares. An indescribable nightmare whose sights are set on you. The smart option would be running away but it's as though your shoes have melted into the pavement. Pawing into the tarmac, the beastly thing growls and lunges for you. Great. This is how you die: torn limb from limb by a demon dog. Well, assuming your clothes join you, at least you’ll look like a total babe in the afterlife.
"Oh no ya’ don't," the other one yells from behind the predator, grabbing it by its tail. “Pretty ladies are not food!”
With a mighty tug, he pulls it back and swings it as far away from you as possible. You release a shaky breath, legs trembling beneath you. That was far too close for comfort. The fight isn’t quite over, however. Just as it approaches him, the green goliath swivels on his feet, full 180, and whacks the creature's jaw with a closed fist. His speed alone has you in awe but the force is astounding, practically earth-shattering. It completely knocks the air around you and pushes you onto your backside.
When the dust clears, the first thing you see is your saviour panting, his spiky shell(?) pointed towards you. Just past him in the distance, you notice three more figures in blue, purple, and orange taking a closer look at the unconscious tyrant. You swear one of them pokes at it with a stick. Witnessing strange beings such as this isn't entirely new. Anyone who's watched Chateau Pretenche knows about the celebrity chef turning into a grotesque pigman. To describe it in one word? Horrifying. It's just whether people choose to believe it genuinely happened or if these bizarre entities exist. Being up close and personally observing it now puts your scepticism in check.
As the humanoid turtle calms, he turns to face you, recapturing your attention. A red mask sits over his eyes and there’s a noticeable snaggle tooth poking past his upper lip. Typically, the prerogative is keeping out of sight but it’s much too late for that. He gradually advances towards you. You watch him warily and he keeps his movements slow for that very reason. It wouldn’t be a shock if you were to try and make an escape. He wouldn’t blame you. Currently, all he wants to do is make sure you weren’t hurt during that fiasco provided you don’t suddenly come out of your bewilderment and run off. You have good reason to but he just saved you. Either that or he’s as ravenous as that beast and wants you all to himself. The irrational conclusion remains as such - irrational - when he descends to one knee and outstretches a hand. There’s an irrefutable kindness in his eyes; a caring nature that can’t be replicated in the face of savage brutes.
"You okay?" he asks.
You continue to gawk without a word but, bit by bit, you reach out for his offer. Your fingers lightly trace the centre of his palm before comfortably trusting the proposal. His hand engulfs yours completely and Raph hopes to mercy that you don’t realise how sweaty he’s getting. He can feel his heart beating like crazy. He wonders how much of that is the adrenaline from the fight and how much of it is being in the presence of such a beautiful gal. As he helps you to your feet, he rises to his own. Someone of his stature shouldn’t be capable of being this delicate but he is. It has you running through a loop and you unintentionally stare at the remarkable behemoth.
Quite pathetically, you nod, unable to verbally respond to his question. How can you? You are effectively starstruck. Once you gloss over the turtle-y features, all you see is the sheer size of him as he towers over you. Height, width, the magnitude of those arms! All of it is glorious. You can hear the universe asking, “You want a big man, huh? How about one who isn’t human?” to which you answer, “Who gives a damn?”. If the only way a man can be this big is not to be human, so be it.
Amidst a whisper, your mouth moves on its own, "You're beautiful."
"What?"
"Huh?" Blinking out of your trance, you realise what you’ve said and giggle sheepishly, "I mean, you're be... ba... booming! Totally awesome with the whole- uh... saving thing." Nailed it. 
He blinks right back down at you. This is certainly a first. He can feel his face heating up and he withdraws his hand lest you endure the wrath of his bashfulness, opting to hold the back of his head. At this moment, he seems to look anywhere but you.
"Heh. Gee, thanks." His humility is adorable and you’re glad he doesn’t question your initial statement. He turns to you once more, regaining some composure. "You sure you're okay, though? That thing was pretty scary looking."
It’s clear that you haven’t sustained any physical injuries but even bearing witness to something so unsightly can have lasting effects on one's mind. His brows furrow gently in concern down at you and it occurs to you that there’s a soft heart under all of that shell and muscle. Bonus points. This makes you smile for the first time in front of him and Raphael is sure that the streetlights got brighter.
You laugh fondly, “Yeah, I’m okay. Thank you.” Twiddling your fingers, your lips purse up in his direction.  “Is there any way I can repay you?”
He places his hands on his hips and chuckles cutely, “Just doing my duty, ma’am.”
He may be indulging in his alter ego - the Red Angel of Preventing Harm - but it’s not every day he gets paid thanks when he saves someone. It’s also not every day he gets to save such a pretty woman, either. You, however, can’t just leave it at that. There must be some way in which you can properly thank him. Ulterior motives include getting to know this already loveable lug better but shh. It feels like the odds are finally turning in your favour and you won’t let this slip away from your grasp. That’s when it hits you.
Muttering under your breath, you erratically search through the confines of your little handbag. You are certain that you had one in here somewhere. In the spare pocket maybe? Ah! Found it. Fumbling to take the lid off of your pen, you hold out your hand, gesturing for his. He slowly complies, to which you jot down a series of digits on his palm accompanied by your name and a tiny 'x'. 
"Gimme a text sometime," is the last thing he hears before you disappear around a corner.
Oh? Oh. Ohhh. Wow. Getting your number is the last thing he expected. Did he get hit on the head during that scuffle or something? Was everything from the last few minutes a dream? He bores holes into the writing on his skin, scanning it over and over, scared that it’ll disappear if he so much as blinks. A dumb, wobbly smile not so gracefully decorates his lips as he trudges back to the turtle tank. He takes his seat but it’s obvious that he isn’t all there. Being so caught up in his rose-tinted bubble, he doesn’t register his brothers' voices. In an effort to gain his attention, Michelangelo jumps onto his shoulder, partly intrigued by what their leader is so absorbed by.
"Oh me gosh!” the young brother screams in shrill excitement, “Raph's in love!"
Careful not to smudge the neat ink, he’s quick to hide his hand against his chest. "That's crazy talk!”
Donatello sniffs the air and mockingly covers his nose. "The overwhelming manifestation of your nervous stink indicates otherwise, dear brother."
"I got a girl’s number!” he continues to defend, feeling his face go all kinds of red. “'Course, I'm nervous but that don’t mean I’m in love."
Lies and slander. It was practically love at first sight. He just doesn’t like the idea of his brothers knowing that. It’s easy pickings to be made fun of.
"Don't worry, Big Red. Lucky for you, you got a guy who knows all about the charm." Leonardo points both thumbs at himself as he falls back into his seat and props his legs up on the dashboard. "First, you just need to..."
The "helpful" advice drowns out as the large snapper opens and gazes at his palm again. He just can't comprehend how a gorgeous individual such as yourself could take one look at him and give him your number. It's puzzling but he supposes there’s a first for everything? That also doesn't mean he won't text you. The only thing getting in the way of that is fear. Raphael thinks he’d rather go toe-to-toe with that mutant dog again than have to face the risk of embarrassing himself. To anyone who knows him, it’s no surprise that he caves under pressure. No. He will do it! A chance like this is one in a million.
Oh boy. What could possibly go wrong?
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demonpiratehuntress · 3 months
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hiii! it’s the autistic anon,, i hope it’s okay if i try requesting smth a little easier to write? i was thinking maybe smth like Law and reader aren’t dating yet, maybe reader joined the crew not too long ago and so is still quiet and shy around everyone. but one day Law notices her reading a comic book he likes and strikes up a conversation about it and maybe that leads to him finding out they’re really similar in some ways? like both have a coin and comic book collection, both love tattoos, and reader even wanted to be a nurse but just didn’t have the resources for it. Law kind of develops a crush from there and u can decide how he handles it and whether or not he even realizes he has a crush at first. and i don’t mind what format either, it can be headcanons or a fic or anything! and i just want to say thank u for taking time out of your busy schedule to write for us, i love your writing and look forward to your posts everyday! i hope your day is great!! <3
hello again! of course, i'm open to a lot of other ideas :) this sounds so cute and sweet, i can definitely write this! thank you for requesting again :D i chose headcanons because they're more fun to write lol. I hope you like it!
taglist - @kabloswrld
two peas in a pod
Trafalgar Law x F!Reader
summary - the cute scenario described in the ask :)))
warnings - none
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You'd always wanted to become a pirate, ever since you were little
So when Law and his crew showed up at your little island and stopped at your village to replenish their supplies - and apparently take down bandits that were terrorising you - you took the opportunity
At first Law was sceptical, wondering what you brought to his crew, but after your first venture with them he realised you could be useful, not only as a fighter but also another medic, one with more nurturing qualities and a softer touch
He would never admit it, but he was jealous of how the crew immediately went to you for help now
But after a while Law himself warmed up to you as well, and found himself seeking your company more and more often
He knew very well he could fix himself up, but chose to come to you instead just to have an excuse to talk to you and maybe learn more about you
Despite interacting with the crew for medicinal purposes, you were still shy and reserved, only speaking when you needed to
You were surprised when Law walked into your room one day, claiming that he needed your help determining what kind of sickness he was developing (he was not sick)
He caught you in your free time, so you were reading a favourite comic of yours, a secret you had managed to keep from everyone for so long - until now
"What's that?"
"Hmm? Oh, this? Nothing.."
You hid the comic behind your back, hoping Law would drop it and just focus on his non-existent sickness, but luck was not on your side today
His brows furrowed in concentration, before his eyes lit up in a way you'd never seen before
"I know that comic!"
"Wh-what? No you don't..."
"Surely you're not telling me I wouldn't recognise the cover of my favourite comic book, (Name)-ya..."
"O-of course not! I just didn't think..."
You trailed off as Law took a seat directly next to you, plucking the comic from your hands
He begins to flick through the pages with you sitting so stiff and awkwardly beside him
Eventually you relax and attempt to initiate a discussion about it with him
Which turns into a full debate over your favourite characters
You've never had this much fun talking about something before
And your captain seems so much more relaxed and at ease, and he's even SMILING as he talks
The conversation slowly goes from the comic to other shared interests between the two of you, such as his coin collection - he was visibly stunned to find out you had one too - and your desire to become a nurse, something medical-related
Law was surprised to hear that you wanted to be a nurse
Not because you didn't have the skills for it, you definitely did, but because you had chosen to become a pirate instead
When he asked what changed your mind, something weird happened in his chest when your answer was "i didn't have the opportunity or the resources in my small village...but also...you"
He didn't know what that feeling was, but he kind of liked it?
From then on, Law took every opportunity he could to talk to you about both your coin collections, your medical knowledge and your shared interest in that comic
He wanted to know why he was feeling this way, and hoped talking to you more would help him understand
But now he was just craving your presence, craving your voice and the way you passionately spoke about your interests
It wouldn't be a good day if Law hadn't gotten the chance to see or speak to you
And it was frustrating him that he couldn't figure out why he felt this way about you, and why he treated you differently to his other crewmates
Then Shachi and Penguin teased him about being in love with you
And suddenly it made sense
But for the first time ever, Law was terrified, because he didn't know what to do, this was not his forte
So obviously, he needed help, and since Shachi and Penguin were doing nothing but teasing him, he went to Bepo
You were completely oblivious to what he and Bepo were planning, thinking they were just planning the crew's next island stop
You were also oblivious to Law's feelings - mostly because he hid it well - but were completely aware of your own feelings for him
And you tried to hide it, you really did, but everyone could see the way your eyes softened when he walked into the room or spoke to you directly, the way your cheeks reddened when he complimented you or said something nice, the way you always seemed even more shy and flustered around him
Even Law noticed
But for a long time he debated whether or not to actually go through with his Bepo's plan to ask you out
He took so long that you almost gave up on him entirely
But when he did finally approach you, it was so worth it
He had planned a very romantic dinner in his room - candlelit and everything
He was so nervous the entire time, only slightly comforted by the fact that you looked nervous as well
"You look nice"
"Oh, um, thanks. So do you"
It is SO awkward for a few minutes, as you both just look at each other or the food
You decide to break the silence since it seems like Law never will
"If this is too uncomfortable, I can-"
"No!" He jumps to say, then clears his throat. "I mean, I'd like you to stay. I'm sorry, I'm not very good at this."
So you stay, and you're patient with him as he works up the nerve to tell you how he feels
In the end, you tell him you feel the same way, and like a movie, you close the date with a sweet, slow kiss - both yours and Law's pace
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colourstreakgryffin · 4 months
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HIIIIII I'M BACK, my phone was broken for a few days and even when it was fixed I had no inspo for ideas on asks... BUBUBUBUBUT I'M BACK AND I GOT AN IDEAAAA
I've been losing interest in kny recently so I think I'll go along with Hazbin Hotel!!
Hear me out so much, Husk, Cherri, or Vox with reader who does ballet... I do ballet myself and that shit is soohohohoho fucking awesome and painful at the same time, like doing a split while doing a backbend too, not even like a half assed split no no no no no. A perfectly aligned split. I've had so much moments where I thought my legs would just... *pop* like a doll's. BUT ENOUGH OF MY RANTING.
remember to take breaks and drink enough water, you don't have to rush anything. take good care of yourself, make sure you have healthy habits and treat yourself to something today, like going out to a great restaurant! idk but just make sure you treat yourself to something nice today, Chiharu :3
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here's terribly deformed Charlie bringing you chocolate milk :3
Haha! I have that EXACT SAME picture! I love terribly deformed Charlie bringing me chocolate milk every Wednesday. Thanks, Lottie! You know Husk’s response to our flexibility is a resounding ‘what the fuck’ and this is my first time ever trying out Cherri! And hey, I won’t write Cherri or Vox, I’ll write both!
Husk
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Husk is a sweetheart when it comes to being your boyfriend, trust me. He’s caring, he may be a bit rough with his advice but he only does so in order to protect you. He’s skilled with people and he is happy to help comfort you. His patience is high… but even Husk himself is anxious at getting to see your beloved hobby
Ballet. Well, Husk isn’t against it. He always thought it was such an old hobby. That ballet dancers don’t really exist anymore but then again, he won’t express his thoughts outloud and he gives you thumbs up when watching your practices. It’s very impressive and he isn’t against being at every single practice to performance
You know Husk is freaked out by how flexible you are. Back bends whilst doing full on splits. Satan’s fuck, he is cringing at how a human body can do that but at the same time, he’s so impressed that he just can’t bring himself to hate what he is looking at
Husk is in complete and utter awe when he can review your practice performances. Ballet may be a bit disturbing to him, due to how much it stretches the body’s limits, but it’s also so beautiful, graceful and majestic
Husk can’t pull his eyes off you and he falls into a deep state of enamour. You’re so beautiful, even more than you already are, as you dance. He couldn’t even believe it was possible 
Husk is quite protective over you, like I said before, so when you land on your ankle badly, he is rushing onto the stage to check it and carry you out to make sure you’ll heal well. He won’t let you practice or stretch or practice your flexibility until you are doing better
“Honeypot. You will win this dance, I know you will. You’ve done training for years and you look incredible as you dance. Yes, I will be there in the crowd”
Cherri Bomb
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Cherri Bomb is an energetic, supportive and joyful girlfriend. One that doesn’t mind getting a bit destructive and carefree with her partner and encouraging them to have more fun with her but has a soft spot. Of course, however, you know she will take your hobby seriously and help you or watch you for you, it’s actually fun to her as well
Cherri actually finds your ballet passion ‘precious and cute’. Something she is all for since it’s such a simple, innocent, harmless favourite activity. She likes making bombs to make things explode, you love to explode the competition and grace the dancefloor stage with your beauty and poise
Cherri may seem like she isn’t much of a dancer, maybe more of a rapper but seriously, she actually is and it’s canon that she is a very skilled dancer so there is no doubt that she is either passing down her own skills in dancing, training you more or dancing with you. She will dance ballet with you and practice two-dancer ballet with you
Cherri will blow up a hole in the wall at your practice ballrooms or your performance ballrooms to make it and she refuses to let anybody else try take care of you if you’re hurt so suspect her to get into a fight, in a crime of protective passion. She wants you happy and safe, she’ll fight for that
Cherri is actually quite fine with how flexible you are and how your warm-up stretching can really stretch out your limbs. The way you lift your leg up until it’s completely vertical and both your pelvis and the underneath of your thigh is visible. She is impressed and asks if you can teach her how to be so flexible. She isn’t as disturbed as the other two, she likes it
Cherri, just like Husk and Vox, falls into a complete and utter admiration at being able to watch you perform and dance. The soothing gentle music has her head dancing as well and her single eye basically widening, she’s more in love now then ever
“Hey-ya, bubblegum. Did’ya have fun on ‘dat stage? I had fun recordin’ it! You looked amazin’, you’ll win this tournament. No problem! Of course, babe, I’ll be in the front row!”
Vox
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Vox is a busy man and can be a bit arrogant at times, but he is actually quite a good boyfriend. He gives off good advice and support, he is protective with his power and he is the type to spoil his lover. When he is around, he’d doting, he’s a bit overbearing but because he cares and he makes sure you’ll always feel loved and comfortable with him
Vox is actually quite supportive but he is the voice of reason. He won’t tolerate you overdoing yourself in your precious little hobby, he will encourage to dance ballet but if you go too far, he will step in and correct your behaviours. However, that doesn’t often happen so you can dance all you want at the big practice ballroom he hired out for you and/or dancing with you
Vox isn’t sure how to feel about seeing how flexible you are… it’s pretty hot but at the same time, it’s disturbing. You’re on the floor and you’re stretching your pushed-back leg over your back so much that you’re almost in a wheel-shape with your body. He’s amazed, he is already cheering you on, he’s recording it to brag about he can’t help but feel aroused
Vox, everytime he attends your passionate hobby’s practice and performance events, records it on his phone or on his own face so he can both watch it back to admire you and to show the other Vees that he is the boyfriend of the best ballet dancer in Hell. He sometimes forgets to record it since you look so… incredible
Vox is protective, extremely protective. You’re smaller, you’re weaker. You’re less wealthy and less well off. You require constant guarding to ensure you’ll be able to make it to the next day. If you even slightly land on your ankle awkwardly, he is stomping up to the stage and taking you away so he can check up on you
You know Vox almost drops the camera he is using to record you every professional dance on the stage and he can’t stop thinking about how unbelievably beautiful you look, how you’re as silly and velvety like a swan with your every spin and flex. He takes a few seconds to snap out of his awe over you
“Come now, sweetheart. You’ve done more than enough, that dance can again-kill everybody in this room and you made all those amateurs look pathetic. I want to reward you for this. Don’t you worry, I’ll be at the final performance“
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vesper-tinus · 1 year
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Hi Vespertine!! First off I wanted to say that I’m super impressed with how amazing your writing is considering English is your third language!! It is mine too, after Spanish and French, what about you?
Anyways I say your requests were open and I thought I could jump in and give you an idea. It’d be a König x female reader, in which she is a worldwide recognized sniper, but they only know her alias, so when she accepts a job at KorTac, König is smitten with her instantly, maybe she’s in the shooting range training at night and he comes up to her? What do you think?
Hello, anon!
What a lovely message, thank you so much! My languages are Danish, Italian, followed by English 😙 I took Spanish & German in school, unfortunately I don't remember much!
I love the idea! Hopefully I managed to write something you can agree with!
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𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 König x F!Reader
Summary: On a late night, you find more at the shooting range than you expected. Keywords: König, female Reader, reader is a sniper, you have fun shooting guns in a safe environment 👍 König is giving puppy fanboy energy. Wordcount: 1206.
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Bang.
Another shot rings throughout the empty, indoors shooting range. You lower your weapon, and unsurprisingly, your bullet ripped through the tacky, free sticker that came with a pair of shoes you bought recently. It might not be a normal use of stickers, but hey, you’re anything but normal… and the sticker was free. 
You press a button and the long-distanced fiberboard creaks towards you. 
They dubbed you "Lovelace''. After the mathematician. All due to your sharpened mind being able to perform extraordinary feats of warfare and calculations, all through the small scope of a sniper rifle. Companions have been noted to refer to you as either 'Love' or 'Lace', depending on the situation (and your relationship)—but those companions have been left behind for the time being. KorTec’s mercenaries are your companions now, though you have yet to actually meet any of them. 
With the board coming to an abrupt halt in front of you, you peel off the damaged sticker, replacing it with another, before sending the target away again, tracking it through your scope. 
Your ears perk at the sound of someone entering—even with the noise cancelling headphones—so you hold your fire and listen. 
From their footsteps, you can tell they are not attempting to disguise their approach towards you. So you mind your business, emptying your lungs before taking the shot—bullseye—and lower the rifle onto the desk before turning towards the newcomer. Sliding down the ear-protectors to rest around your neck. 
“Late-night practice?” Comes the question from the stranger, and you clock the Austrian accent almost immediately. You have toured there before for a mission. Great coffee. 
The answer to his question is an obvious one, but you humour him, and offer him a curt nod and pleasant smile. “Got it in one,” you say with welcoming tone, wiping your hand on your thigh as you approach him for a handshake. “I’m—”
“Lovelace. I—I know.”
You blink. You had not expected to hear your callsign to be said with such… enthusiasm. While you cannot see his face, the awe is undeniable on his tongue. His infatuation showed freely in his eyes—almost sparkling. Such piercing blue eyes, you think absentmindedly as your hand is shaken. He seems almost reluctant to let you go, and you cannot help but quirk a smile. You are rarely, if ever, met with such boyish fascination. 
“I have been following your career,” he says, straightening his back. “You’re an incredible sniper, it’s an honour to have you on the team.” His fingers twitch. It’s almost overwhelming meeting you in person. “I’m König,” he says, finally remembering he (rudely) interrupted your introduction. 
His stature is impressive, formidable even. And your eyes never leave his as you step backwards until you can lean against the desk—and funnily enough, he follows you. The image reminding you of a puppy trotting after its master. “I’m honoured you keep me in such high regards,” you say with a chuckle, mirth arising from your throat as one leg comes to cross over the other in a casual, relaxed posture. “It’s all very cute.” You glance up at him, a smile pulling up one corner of your mouth, your eyebrow raised just enough to tell him that he is not as subtle as he might think. “King.”
You translating his callsign should not affect him as much as it does, aber Scheiße does it cause him to do a double take. He clears his throat, coming to stand near you. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what to say. So he goes for whatever the both of you have in common. Guns—more specifically, sniper rifles. 
“I, uh. I tried becoming a sniper once,” he says, eyeing the discarded rifle on the surface behind you. You follow his eyes, the only thing you can see of his face, and you unceremoniously hold the rifle up to him. Brow arched.
“Then you must have some training. Mind showing me what I’m working with?” Your tone is inviting, almost playful, as you encourage him to let loose. “-and if you want, I don’t mind giving pointers.” The last thing you want is him thinking you find yourself superior. You know how frustrating it can be, when others force “suggestions” on your techniques. Unfortunately, you have been the victim of many such men. 
Thankfully, König seems thrilled to have your expertise at his beck and call, and lines himself up in the booth. You give him the space he needs. “Hold fire,” you order, inspecting his posture, his grip on the rifle, and suddenly you can’t help but imagine yourself back at the many sniper courses you’ve attended. You see his trigger finger twitch, not enough to fire, but enough to make you comment on it. “Steady fingers, König.”
“Apologies. I am… excited,” he admits with a faint chuckle. He cannot help himself. He cannot help himself so he sneaks a glance at you, and he’s thankful that his expression is veiled, because he’s smiling.
“Alright, I’ve grilled you long enough. Compensate for bullet drop, and impress me.” 
He’s not sure if you caught him staring or not, but if you did, he’s thankful you didn’t mention it. “Yes,” he says, exhaling to empty his lungs as he prepares his shot. 
A short silence follows, and then… 
Bang.
The rifle shot echoes around you. Both your ears are, more or less, insensitive to it at this point. 
You squint your eyes as you check the target. Not a bullseye, but a few centimetres north of your original sticker-shot. You find yourself nodding in approval. König hasn’t moved a muscle after the shot, awaiting any further instructions. 
“Not a bad shot, König.” You pause, quirking a smile. “Go ahead and finish the magazine. Rapid fire.” Might as well put him through his paces, you’re curious to see how well he aims when pressured. 
“Yes, ma’am.” Comes the response.
Shot, after shot, after shot, after shot rings out. You are quick to notice that the more shots he’s firing, the less stable his posture is. But when the rifle empties its last bullet, König breathes a sigh as a hand disappears beneath his hood to rub his jaw. The gun rests on the tabletop, spent. 
Wordlessly, you press the button to call the fiberboard. 
“You have a hard time standing still,” you comment in a light-tone. A casual observation, not a reprimand. “Your pinky started twitching after the fourth round, and you kept repositioning your left leg.” Alright, that might have come off as reprimanding. “...but otherwise, good. Very good, even.” 
König rubs the back of his neck, almost embarrassed at the observations. “I doubt you would be surprised to know, that’s what kept me from graduating. That and my height.” 
You reach up to pat his shoulder before turning to the board.
What you find is not what you expected. 
A perfect circle encasing your bullet-hole. The shots almost perfectly aligned with two centimetres between each. You look to König, baffled at your discovery, and he chuckles as he notes your expression. You wait for an explanation, and he gives it after a moment. 
“Der König beschützt die Königin.”
The King protects the Queen.
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audreyscribes · 5 months
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Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS: 🌕 ARTEMIS: Goddess of the Hunt and Wilderness, Archery, Moon, Maidenhood and Childbirth 🏹
author's note: I had a sudden idea about writing some headcanons Camp Halfblood demigods being claimed and what it's like for each respective god and cabin, followed by a small blurb afterwards. Thank you for reading and please like and reblog! The order is not in order of the cabin numbers. [PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS MASTERLIST]
You’ve become one of Artemis’ ‘children’ as you joined the hunters of Artemis and became part of the sisterhood. 
For the most part, it’s a pretty nomadic way of living. You’re constantly on the move, hunting animals and monsters with your fellow sisters and companions. It's pretty comfy and the tents they set up are great (they also have full blown washrooms somehow, so no need to forgo running water) so it feels like glamping. But every now and again, Artemis takes you guys to stop by Camp Half-blood. 
Say what you will, there's something being stationary and sleeping in an actual building, in actual beds. 
You see the curious eyes watching you and your group, but they keep their distance given boys are off-limits and girls either look at you with awe or disdain. 
Y'know how the Apollo cabin often has archery matches with the Huntresses? Although they don't particularly become any closer, there is some sort of connection between your cabins. Probably because Artemis and Apollo are twins, and Apollo's children don't seem particularly attracted to your group, so there's something there. 
You take part and help out with the annual recruitment at the Camp. Teaching other potential maidens about what it's like being a Huntresses. You're told that they always have one interested individual that joins them by the time they leave camp.
Braids are often a common hairstyle among the hunt, aside from ponytails. Being on the move doesn’t allow much time to dwell on hair aside from basic hair care, so keeping it in a braid is often more of convenience. There’s usually a mass hair-washing station and it becomes a group bonding experience. All the hunters help braid your hair and teach you other styles along the way, and it’s not uncommon to see a hair braiding train. This often also leads into storytelling time and devolving much like a sleepover, bringing a certain sense of nostalgia.
You know you’ve become part of the hunters when Artemis asks you to help braid her hair. Your hands will shake and you will stutter, but as she encourages your hands to weave her hair, you feel honoured and the barrier between her and you is less daunting. 
Other than Dionysus, people feel envious and are curious what it’s like being around a god so often. Artemis accompanies you on your hunts more often than not, and usually is not around when she has to attend a council with the other Olympians or tend to her nightly duties. It’s a see-saw of perception being around Artemis; on one hand, you’re aware of who she is but on the other hand, when you’re hunting together or when she joins you with the other hunters, you forget she’s a deity.  
If you joined in when Zoe is a lieutenant, she is strict but fair. She is the ultimate big sister of the sisterhood. She may seem a bit cold to you but as she helps guide your shooting stance and gives you tips, tells you to zip up your parka or checks your supplies, you know she cares for you like a sister. In fact, you notice she seems more at ease as she looks after you and your sister…it makes you think if she had biological sisters. 
When Thalia is now the lieutenant, it takes some time to get used to. There’s a bit of friction and gap, since Zoe was in that position for over 2000 years. However, Thalia is confident and has the qualities of a leader, so her stumbles become sprints. She is different from Zoe in how they bond with the sisterhood, but if Zoe was the cool, proud sister, then Thalia is the fun, laughable sister that wouldn’t hesitate to give you a noogie.  
You looked upon the silver lady, her entourage of people behind her. The moon was full behind her head, bestowing a glow on her and you were just in awe to be in her shadow. 
A tall and graceful girl stepped forward and she regarded you with a pointed look. “If you wish to join our lady and our hunt, you must pledge yourself from romantic love and swear loyalty to Lady Artemis and our sisterhood.”
You nodded as she nodded back. “Recite this oath: I pledge myself to the Goddess Artemis. I turn my back on the company of men, accept eternal maidenhood, and join the Hunt.”
You recited this pledge and the girl with moonlike qualities smiled. “I, Artemis, accept this pledge. Welcome sister to the Hunt. As long as you remain as one of my Hunters, and are not slain in battle, you will not die under my watch.”
The other hunters cheered for you as you nodded. The other girl stepped forward with a warmer smile and held out her hand to you. 
“My name is Zoe Nightshade, lieutenant of Lady Artemis. Welcome to our sisterhood.”
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Friendly Favor
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ONE SHOT
<< Request >> "If you take requests for one shots could I please give one ? Soo the good ol’ trope where Harry and you are best friends but he thinks he likes someone else so he asks you to fake date him to make the other person jealous but during the process he realises that he loves you and happy ending . I’d be thrilled if you do write something for this but it not that’s totally cool too thanks anyways and have a great day 😍" - ANON
~~~~~
Summary: When YN's best friend Harry asks for a favor, she knows it'll be difficult, but she loves him too much to say no. However, it's a dumb plan, and those usually don't end how you think they will.
A/N: This is my first fake dating trope fic. Hopefully it came out good.
Warnings: some explicit language, alcohol consumption, jealousy, arguments, fingering, hand/blow job
~~~~~
"I think this might literally be the dumbest idea you've ever had, H!" You laugh, grabbing a french fry from the plate sitting on the couch between you and Harry. You look over to find his arms crossed over his chest and a pout formed from his bottom lip. That adorable pout, with his pretty pink lips, that always seems to work on you despite your attempts to stand your ground.
"It's gonna work…" He grumbles, taking the plate of fries and moving them to the other side of him, just out of your reach.
"Seriously? You want me to pretend to be your date to a house party, so Chloe will get jealous and want to go out with you?" You laugh again in disbelief and lean over him in an attempt to reclaim your favorite comfort food. "That's seriously so dumb!"
"But it's a party. It'll be fun either way." He attempts to convince you.
"Full of people I don't know. I'd rather eat chalk." You respond, giving him a sarcastic glare, aware that your stubbornness will begin to crack any moment. Especially with his sultry dark scent currently floating around you.
"Come on… we're best friends… if you do me this favor, I'll… buy you something nice!"
"Harry, your idea of a nice gift is fuzzy socks. That's not really enticing." You giggle, reaching further across his lap, stretching your hand out as far as it will go but failing immensely.
"No, this'll be good. Promise. Plus you wear those socks all the time." He affirms, in that low, deep voice that causes a subtle shiver down your spine every time he uses it.
You and Harry have been best friends for years. Since right before 9th grade, in fact. You had moved in next door as the last school year ended, and quickly clicked with each other before it started up again. Since then, you two have been inseparable. At first, everyone thought you liked each other, but you both were quick to dispel those rumors. You didn't. You were just really good friends. But the older you got, and the more Harry denied it, the more bothered by it you became. He was everything to you. You trusted him, you felt safe with him, you had fun with him. You liked him. You loved him. Was it such a crazy idea that you two could be together? To you, the answer was always yes. He is very charming, and of course, very good looking. Every girl around swooned if he even looked their way, and melted away if he uttered the simplest "hello". He could be with any girl he wanted, and you were just you. Just his best friend. That's all you'd ever be to him, so that's what you'd settle for.
"Fine." You sigh, knowing that even if it hurts you, unfortunately you love him too much to say no. "I can do that. But I better get this gift even when this plan fails."
"If it fails. And it won't." He assures you, an annoying confidence beaming from his chest.
"Whatever." You reply, internally kicking yourself for being such a sap for him. He reaches around the back of your head and pulls it close to place a kiss on your temple.
"Thank you, babe." He replies, handing you back the plate you ended up forgetting about completely when his lips touched you. You love that nickname, but you hate it too, because you hate every girl who has heard it in the way you wish he meant it with you.
"Yeah, well, what are best friends for…"
×××
Nerves suddenly flood your brain as you walk up to the front door with Harry. Not only do you have to put on this little "girlfriend" charade with the guy you wish was your own, but you are worried you won't really know anyone inside, making an already awkward situation even more uncomfortable. He only mentioned Chloe being in attendance, because of course she is the only one he cares about being there. You know who she is, you have mutual friends of friends, and have been at the same hangouts or parties a time or two. You always thought she was a bit vain, and a big flirt with every guy who gave her the time of day, but she has clearly made an impression on Harry due to the fact that you're walking through the front door with a plan to make her jealous for him.
Harry immediately wraps his arm around your waist and you swear your knees could go weak at the gesture. You look up to where he stands next to you, watching him give you a quick wink, thankful that the lights are dim and covering up the blush rushing to your cheeks.
"Harry! What's up?" You hear, turning your attention further inside the house.
"Hey, love." He responds, giving a quick hug to Layla, a friendly face you are grateful to see. The three of you met this year, your junior year of college, all bonding over moving from small towns to this big, state university. You don't know her well, but at least you know someone. "Hey, YN! Welcome! I'm so happy you're here!"
"This is your party? This house is… wow!" You exclaim, your eyes wide as you look around the giant living room that makes your off-campus studio apartment look like a small cardboard box.
"Thanks! It's my parents, but they're never home, so I make good use of it." She shrugs with a smile. "Now, the drinks are in the kitchen, and everyone seems to have congregated in the living room. It's where the music is! So, have fun!"
She giggles and swiftly twirls around, waving as she finds more people to greet.
"Alright, girlfriend… drinks first?" Harry asks, chuckling as his palm leaves your waist and grabs your hand. This would be the sweetest little gesture if it actually meant anything real to him.
"Definitely. I'm definitely going to need one." You respond, letting him lead the way through a small crowd of people.
"Is it that difficult to even just pretend to love me?" He laughs, and you roll your eyes. It's the best motion you can think of to counteract every muscle in your body that wants to show him the exact opposite.
"Easy there with the love stuff… boyfriend… this is supposed to be a new relationship, right?" You remind him, and yourself.
"Right." He replies, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. He's easy to love, but this won't be easy to get through. He lets go of your hand and pours you a drink. "Let's mingle, really sell our story, yeah?"
You exhale heavily and nod, getting that firm reminder of the reason you two are really here, and that Chloe is actually the one he wants.
You take a gulp of your drink, grabbing his hand as he leads you to a small group of people you've met once or twice before.
"I didn't know you two were together." Someone politely states, causing Harry to squeeze your hand as a signal to really start up this charade.
"Yeah, s'kinda new." Harry shrugs and looks over to you with those sparkling green eyes you wish you could dive into. "But we've been best friends forever, so it was bound to happen."
Ouch. What a cruel thing to say, if he actually knew how true that could be for the two of you. If he actually felt the same as you.
But this is just a performance. For him. And since you genuinely feel the way he wants you to pretend that you do, you figure it will be easy to play along. So you will.
"Yep! He finally realized what he was missing out on." You smile as you turn your head to the group, your attention almost taken back by the way Harry clears his throat.
"I knew it would happen eventually! You're super cute together!" Layla exclaims, looking between the both of you with a tipsy smile. "And YN, you look fucking hot tonight, girl!"
You let out a laugh of disbelief. Your outfit is nothing special, even if you do feel good in it. Harry's hand wraps back around your waist and he squeezes your side.
"Yes she does." He agrees, looking over to you with a mischievous smirk. Those damn dimples could make any girl feel wanted. And, unfortunately, it does the same with you.
You shake your head and take another large sip of your drink, hoping the alcohol can kick in soon and get you out of your thoughts. You want to relax. You need to relax. You need to get through this night.
As the group disperses, you feel Harry pull you in tighter towards him, resting his forehead on your temple as he brings his mouth to your ear. Every hair in your body stands up immediately.
"You do look really good, babe." He states, causing your heart to flutter. As much as you know he doesn't mean it in the way you want him to, hearing those words causes your teeth to bite down on your bottom lip.
"Okay, hot shot, don't waste a compliment if people aren't around." You reply, trying to keep your composure and not completely melt at the whisper of words that just flowed out from him.
"M'serious." He sternly replies, causing you to turn towards him and be met with a frown. If he was truly yours, you'd run your thumb over to smooth it out and keep him calm.
Your eyes flicker down to his, then back up to the tension between his eyebrows. You're not truly his, but you're pretending to be, and this is your opportunity. You bring your thumb up to the line, slowly running it over and seeing him instantly relax under your touch.
"Thank you." You state, staring into his eyes for a moment before quickly bringing it down and patting his chest to push him back.
He gives you a wink and grabs your hand, pulling you to yet another small group of people, wrapping his arm around you in some way or another, and frequently placing sweet kisses on your cheeks, probably not wanting to do much more and cross the line. You weren't going to complain. You could enjoy this. You could definitely enjoy this.
×××
"Hello ladies." You hear that sultry British accent state, as Harry sits down beside you at the campus cafe.
"Harry. Please tell YN that she should come to the club this weekend with me and Seth!" Your friend Eva exclaims, causing you to roll your eyes. You don't mind parties, especially if you know people, but clubs are something different. Most of the time you avoid those situations and hang out with Harry instead. You find that to be a much better way to spend your time.
"Ummm… I was actually hoping she'd go to a party with me…" He replies, turning his attention to you.
"Again?" Your brow furrows in confusion, and Harry's eyes dart between you and Eva. She begins to look between you and Harry, rolling her eyes as he keeps a tight lip around whatever it is he wants to say next.
"I'm not giving up." She points at you as she stands up, grabbing her stuff and walking away.
You chuckle as she heads out and then glance back at Harry.
"So…"
"My plan didn't work." He states.
"I'm absolutely shocked!" You reply sarcastically and dramatically, throwing your palm against your chest.
"Shut up." He glares at you, returning his expression by sticking your tongue between your teeth. "But if we go to this party-"
"Seriously, H? Come on." You pinch the bridge of your nose, shaking your head slightly at his desperation. Why does he have to be longing for Chloe's attention? You'd give it all and then some, for real, if he wanted it.
"Please, babe! Pleeeease?" He scoots closer with a pout on his lips, and you hate that he knows that this tactic works well on you.
You sigh, in what is most likely defeat. You want to say no. You want to be selfish. You want him to give up on this plan and have him all to yourself.
"I'll give you a really, really nice gift…"
"I can't believe you're bribing me. And I can't believe it's working."
"Yeah? It's working?" He grins, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling himself closer for a hug. He looks up and you can see out of the corner of your eye that he is batting his lashes in fake innocence.
"Fine. I can do that. But no more help if this doesn't work out." You state, hoping that it won't. Really hoping that it won't. Even if he doesn't feel the same for you, at least you can keep your best friend around.
×××
The days leading up to the next party were the same. Almost the same. Harry met you every day with a coffee, walked you to most of your classes, and hung out with you at lunch each day, as always. The thing that changed was all the little kisses on your hands, cheeks, and temple. The wrapping of his arm securely around your waist and the occasional squeeze on your hip when his hand dropped down slightly. The way he surprised you by grabbing your arms from behind, and mumbling "hey babe" into your ear. It was only a week, but it was the best week.
However, it was all just for show, and it was going to end tonight.
As you get out of Harry's car, you instinctively place your hand in his, intertwining your fingers as he leads you to the front door.
You're less nervous about this party, because it is once again at Layla's house, and at least you know the place, so maybe you'll also know some of the people this time. Plus you have Harry by your side. So as soon as you walk in, you both make your way to the kitchen for a drink, and he walks behind you, holding your hip, while you move over to where the rest of the crowd has gathered.
His palm rests on your shoulder and begins to stroke it back and forth. A warmth rushes over you at his touch. His now familiar, yet still exciting touch. You look up at him, being met by those deep, inviting dimples, and a seductive smirk. Your breath halts for a moment, and your teeth sink into your bottom lip.
He leans his head down and rests his chin on your shoulder, causing a subtle hitch of your breath. You squeeze your eyes shut, hoping he didn't hear your embarrassing reaction.
"We're pretty good at this boyfriend-girlfriend shit, yeah?" He asks in a low mumble, not helping the rumble of butterflies in your stomach.
If he only knew you weren't pretending. You could just tell him you aren't. But you actually can't. You'd ruin his plan, and most likely your friendship. You don't want to lose him, even if you can't fully have him.
"I'm a great actress!"
"Yeah." He replies, standing up straighter and releasing his hand from you. "M'gonna get another drink. Want one?"
"Sure." You reply, downing what is currently left in your cup.
"I'll be right back." He states, walking towards the kitchen and leaving you to stand alone in the corner of the living room. You pull out your phone, hoping to distract yourself from the awkwardness of being by yourself, waiting for Harry to soon return.
×××
You don't realize, until you look at the time on your screen, that you have been standing there in the dim corner for twenty minutes.
You shake your head and make your way to the kitchen to retrieve the drink that Harry has clearly forgotten to bring you.
You turn the corner and glance around, stopping in your tracks when you find your best friend, leaning against the refrigerator, chatting with the woman sitting opposite him on top of the counter. Of course, it's none other than Chloe.
Your heart tightens. This was the plan. This is what he wanted. And he ended up being right, because clearly it worked out in his favor.
You slyly make your way to the other end of the kitchen and pour yourself a generous amount of tequila into a cup, finding the best thing available to mix it with before chugging half of the cup and refilling it to the top.
If he gets to have his fun now, you might as well try to do the same.
You put your head down and make your way back out into the living room, bumping into a tall presence before reaching your destination.
"Sorry! Shit! Sorry!" You exclaim, wiping the small bit of drink from your top, and looking up to find a wide smile and even wider eyes.
"I bumped into you, YN, it's all good." The guy replies, causing you to squint your eyes at the confusion of how he knows your name. He chuckles as he notices your expression. "Trevor. We had English 1A together last year."
"Oh my god. Yeah! Hey!" You blurt out, smacking your palm against your forehead in embarrassment. "Sorry."
"Like I said, it's all good." He chuckles, placing his palm on your shoulder. "Are you okay though? You seem a little… frazzled."
"Frazzled?" You giggle at the word, then sigh at the realization that his observation was probably pretty accurate. "I think I just need to sit down."
"Follow me, the comfiest couch is this way." He states, motioning for you to follow him as you both make your way to the other side of the large living room. You find the giant sofa and plop down on it next to him. There is a lot of space, but you don't shy away from sitting close.
"Better?" He asks, resting his arm on the back.
"Much! Thank you."
"So, would you like me to ask you what's going on, or distract you with my incredible array of celebrity impressions?"
You bring your legs up onto the seat, pulling your knees to your chest and taking another sip of the liquid concoction that now seems less intense than before.
"Ooh, impressions, please." You reply excitedly. This is something you can distract yourself with. He is somebody you can distract yourself with. At least for tonight.
"Okay, get ready. You're going to be amazed!"
×××
The night moves on as you continue to talk to Trevor, feeling a lot lighter than you had at the beginning of the night, even if your body is full of tequila.
"Have you had the barbeque chicken at that place down the street from campus?"
"No, but now I think I definitely have to." You giggle, not for the first time with him. The more drink that enters your body, the more you relax, and apparently the flirtier you get.
"Maybe we can go someti-"
"YN! I've been looking all over for you!" Harry exclaims, doing his best to hide the frustration only you can tell that he is withholding.
"Clearly not hard enough." You mumble under your breath as you roll your eyes at him.
"Can you come with me, babe?" He asks through a forced smile, his hand subtly balling into a fist at his side.
"Actually… babe... Trevor and I were just talking about a barbeque place I want to try." You snarl, pointing to the man seated beside you, wishing you could manage to ease the intense confusion plastered all over Trevor's face.
"It's all good." Trevor states suddenly, standing up and giving you a small smile. "Maybe we can chat later."
He gives you a thumbs up, which you assume is to ask you if you're all good, and you nod. He turns to walk away and you watch Harry's eyes follow him until he is out of sight.
"Come on. Please." He utters as he reaches his hand out to you, reluctantly being met with yours as you glare up to him.
He pulls you hastily through the crowds of people, simply nodding as some of them attempt to get his attention, and finally stops at the end of the long downstairs hallway.
He spins you around, your back resting against the wall, and his palms on either side of your head.
"Harry, what the hell is your problem? What was all that?"
"Me?" He growls, his chest rising and falling quickly as he looks around, his eyes resting back on yours with a great deal of intensity. "You're just sitting there, flirting with that fucking guy, when we are supposed to be together…"
"Are you serious? Are you actually serious right now?" You question, feeling the breath being drawn out of you the longer he stares. "I served my purpose, and now I'm having fun."
"Served your what?"
"My purpose! I was only here to tell you to make Chloe jealous right?" You sigh when your chest tightens, hating every bit of your statement. Also angry that he can't seem to let you have any fun of your own. "And you seemed to have gotten what you wanted. You definitely had her attention in the kitchen."
"No. I mean, yeah, we were in there talking-"
Suddenly, you're interrupted by the bathroom door swinging open, seeing Trevor step out and glance in your direction. Harry immediately grabs the back of your neck, pushing his lips against yours with more pressure than you thought would be needed to sell the moment. You hear footsteps become more distant and you push on Harry's chest in an attempt to move him back.
"What's wrong with you? He's not the one we needed to make jealous, you idiot!"
Harry's breathing becomes shallow as his green eyes pierce into yours, flickering down to your lips before rejoining your gaze.
"Kiss me again." He whispers.
Your eyes widen in shock and your head quickly swivels back and forth to search for anyone nearby. There's no one around. There's not even anyone to make jealous anymore since he has the one he wants.
"Why do we-"
"Just… kiss me again."
You are about to give some sort of rebuttal when his warm palms meet your cheeks, coating them in a heat that could burn handprints into your skin. He steps closer, your back now completely flush against the wall as his body presses into you. His lips quickly find synchronicity with yours, and you begin to melt. Your palms grab onto his shirt, desperately wanting to claw at the tattoos on his chest. His tongue parts your lips and you move to bite his lower lip, causing him to reach one hand down and squeeze your hip. Your fingers intertwined with his hair. His palm slowly moves its way up to your waist. You subtly push your hips towards his and let out a small whimper.
Then everything stops.
"Harry, why-"
"Fuck. I shouldn't… m'sorry. I shouldn't have done that." He fumbles, taking a step back and running his ring-clad fingers through the curls that yours were just tangled in.
"It's…" You begin to state, completely stunned by what just happened. By the way he just touched you, and kissed you, and held you tight. By the way it seemed to have been about something more than a stupid plan about someone else. By the way he suddenly halted it all. "It's okay, H."
"I'm… you're… we're too drunk for this. I think I just got… caught up in the moment…" He mumbles, refusing to look into your eyes and fixating his down to the floor.
"Oh. Ummm, okay. It's okay." You reply, suddenly feeling so embarrassed and so vulnerable.
"You were right. This was a dumb idea. It… it was a mistake."
Your stomach turns into knots.
"Harry…"
"We're friends. That shouldn't have happened."
The knot instantly grows tighter and your heart begins to sink.
"Like you said, I… I got Chloe's attention, so you're off the hook. You can go… be with that Trevor guy if you want."
Every muscle in your body is frozen from shock, and your mind can't seem to comprehend how the two of you went from what seemed like a passionate make out, to him basically waving you off.
"Right." You scoff in disbelief. You knew what the plan was, you knew the outcome he was hoping for. But you definitely didn't think you'd be hidden in the corner of a dark hallway, pressed against the wall by your best friend, practically feeling his heart pounding through his chest as he kissed you. You also didn't think he'd kiss you and then immediately dismiss you. You frown at yourself for momentarily believing that anything different was going to happen. Whatever the past week has been, and whatever that kiss was for you, clearly it wasn't the same for him. Just a drunken mishap while trying to convince others of this fake relationship, and you don't want to stick around to see him actually give someone else what you thought that moment was for you. "So, I'm just gonna head home."
"Wait, YN, you don't have to leave."
"You can consider this a breakup or whatever. Have fun with Chloe." You feel a pressure of tears beginning to build, and the breath in your body begins to escape you.
"YN-"
"Goodnight." You state, pushing past him and heading out to the living room, quickly thanking Layla for her hospitality.
Before you reach the front door, you feel a gentle grasp of your wrist and turn to find Trevor's concerned eyes turning downwards.
"YN, are you alright?"
Tears threaten to form as you cover up your sadness with a subtle nod.
"Do you need me to take you home?" He inquires, a softness in his eyes that could probably calm you in any other situation.
Your eyes shoot over to Harry, instantly finding him leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the room, arms crossed over his chest and a daggered glare shooting towards the both of you.
Sadness is suddenly accompanied by anger and you gaze back at Trevor.
"I'm actually meeting up with some friends. But… could you wait with me outside while I order an Uber?"
He smiles and nods, placing a hand on your back as you begin to twist the door handle. You shoot one last look back to your best friend, and see him standing up straight, eyes wide and fists clenched.
Well, one of you got what they wanted tonight.
×××
You had surprised your friends by arriving at the club. And you shocked them by showing up without your usual companion, Harry.
As you wait for the bartender to hand you some shots, you explain everything to Eva and Seth.
"So, lemme get this straight…" Eva begins, resting her elbows on the countertop, an eyebrow raised from your recent story. "Your best friend, who you are clearly in love with, asked you to be his fake girlfriend to get another girl jealous enough to want to be with him."
"Yeah. Dumb idea right?"
"But… you said yes…" She adds with a still raised eyebrow… "YN, that was just as dumb!"
"Well, I didn't-"
"Didn't think it would work?" Seth adds, shaking his head.
"Right."
"Still seems really dumb." Eva adds, causing you to glare in her direction and open your mouth to make your case.
Shot glasses are suddenly placed in front of you, and you are thankful for the interruption. You shoot yours down quickly, and look over to see Eva refuse the one she was handed, so you take it from her and shoot that one down too.
"Slow down sweetie." Eva suggests.
"I'm fine." You wave her comment off as you get the bartender's attention for another. You're not sure if your intention is to finally have some fun, or to drown out the events of earlier in the evening. But either way, you're going to drink enough until one of those things happens.
"YN…"
"Let's dance!" You shout, after downing your next shot.
"You never dance at clubs…" Eva replies, with what you assume is inquisitive concern.
"Come onnnn… let's dance!" You exclaim, grabbing the hand of each of your friends and dragging them to the dancefloor.
They follow you, seemingly reluctant, but begin to dance with each other as the next song plays. If they weren't your good friends, you'd be put off by their displays of affection for each other. But only because you'd be a little jealous. And now you're suddenly aware of the open space around your body.
You furrow your brow and explain to your friends that you'll be in the bathroom. Eva offers to go with you, but you insist that she continue to dance with her boyfriend. If Harry was there, it wouldn't be a problem. But now you're a third wheel and you're not about to ruin their night. You've already had enough of that for yourself.
You enter the bathroom and immediately pull out your phone, not hesitating to dial the first contact on your 'favorites' list. No one else could hold that space.
"YN?" You hear on the other end, a gentle tone coming through the speaker.
"Harry, your idea was fucking stupid!" You immediately exclaim, shouting to be heard over the music in the venue, even though the bathroom is only affected by a quiet thump of the bass. You'd take a moment to be more impressed if you weren't so drunk and angry.
"Yeah I know." He sighs, which begins to anger you even more.
"I fucking hated it. It was stupid. You're stupid." You begin to fumble, leaning against the bathroom wall as your knees begin to wobble the same amount as your words.
"Are you… drunk?"
"No!" You shout, grabbing onto the nearby sink to steady yourself. "Maybe."
"YN…"
"That's what you do when you break up with someone right?"
"What?"
"Even though it was fake. Fucking fake. But still..."
"Where are you?" He asks sternly, and even in your intoxicated state, you can picture every detail that is most likely displayed on his face. The serious furrow of his brow, the inward pull of his lips, the shifting of his weight from one foot to the other. You know every part of it.
"Don't worry about it. I'm fine!" You snap back. "I've got Eva and Seth. And not you! And it's fine. I'm fine!"
"YN-"
You pull the phone away from your ear and press the button to end the call. The shots have not given you results for either of the options you were deciding between when you got to the club, so you choose to gather yourself and go to grab another.
You bring your other hand to rest on the sink and look up into the mirror. You're not too much of a mess, but you notice tiny lines of mascara running down your cheeks. You didn't even know you had been crying. Crying for Harry, who isn't even yours. Wasn't yours before, wasn't yours tonight, and won't be yours ever. At least, not in the way you really want him to be.
He really can have whoever he wants. And it's not you.
You scold yourself for letting any feelings for him form, and then grow. He's your best friend. And obviously that'll never change. Unless you aren't even friends anymore. He looked so embarrassed after kissing you. He agreed it was a dumb idea. He told you it was a mistake.
A mistake.
So, he can fuck off. You can do what you want, and right now, that's going to get another shot.
You walk out and back over to your friends, ignoring the mildly concerned looks on both of their faces.
"YN…" Seth begins, stopping his movements from behind Eva.
"Please don't. I'm fine." You respond, beginning to dance and twirl around with his girlfriend. Seth offers to grab some water for everyone and leaves the two of you on the dancefloor.
You glare at the back of his head, quickly following his footsteps towards the bar.
"Three waters please." You hear him state.
"And another shot!" You add, crossing your arms as he glares back at you, as if you're locked in some kind of parent-child standoff.
You grab the shot glass and instantly shoot it back, taping it on the countertop to ask for another. You turn back to Seth with a smug look on your face, at least you're hoping that's what you are portraying, but you notice his gaze is focusing just behind you.
Your shoulder becomes warm and weighted with a palm twisting you around, and you turn to be met with those glistening green eyes.
"Oh, what the fuck. What are you doing here?"
"What are you doing here, YN?" Harry asks, his hand still firmly, but somehow also tenderly, on your shoulder. You hate yourself that just this simple touch is getting your heart fluttering again.
"I'm having fun… with my friends… nothing new."
"Oh really? Since when do you go to clubs, and knock back shots like there's no tomorrow?" That familiar furrow of his brow appears and your instinct wants to smooth it out. But your anger quickly convinces you otherwise.
"Since tonight." You reply, crossing your arms again and doing your best to stand your ground. Physically and metaphorically.
"I think I should take you home." He suggests, moving his hand down your arm and gently holding your hand.
"I think you should fuck off!" You begin to shout, yanking your hand from his hold, letting the alcohol take over your judgment and your tongue.
Harry steps back and you can read the disbelief all over his face, as if it were an open book sitting right in front of you. If you're honest, you are a bit shocked by yourself too. You've never spoken to him like that before. Fought with him? Of course. You've known each other so long, that's only normal. But that? A statement like that isn't normal for you to make towards him. To be fair though, not much about this night has been normal.
"Come on, please. Let's get you home." He reaches out for your hand again, and once again, you pull it away.
"No!" You shout.
"Fine." He throws up his hands, never being one to push or force you to do anything you don't want to do. He turns around and begins to walk out of the club, but with the alcohol and the frustration mixing together, you huff and begin to follow him outside.
"Hey!" You yell from behind him, the cold air hitting your very heated face instantly, and causing a chill to spike all over your body.
He stops immediately, not turning around as you catch up to him, forcing you to move in front of him and stare into his eyes as if you were the one towering over the other.
"Yes?"
"You…" You begin to pant from the exertion from following him, and the cold air penetrating your bones. "You don't just… you don't just get to come here and... and act all protective and shit!"
"Why wouldn't I?" He scowls, suddenly switching back to the one who towers over you. "You're my best friend, YN! And you're wasted. I talked to Eva and Seth, they were worried about you."
"Right, Eva and Seth. Who I'm here with. Not you." You growl, glaring into his eyes as if to actually pierce your frustration into them.
"YN, I was worried about you too."
"I'm fine!"
"Yeah, you keep saying that…"
"And I… I am! You don't have to worry… not about me. You shouldn't fucking be here. You should be with… Chloe. "
"Is that why you left the party all of a sudden?"
"I left because… you got what you wanted! You didn't need me anymore!" You yell, feeling a mild heat return to your body as the alcohol reignites the absolute flustering anger.
"I did." He replies softly, taking a step closer so that his warm breath steams over your face. You momentarily close your eyes and the sensation washes over you. "I wanted you there."
"Are you really that selfish, H?" You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest, partly because of the temperature, but mainly to protect yourself. To protect your heart. "I did it… what you asked me to do… and you got what you wanted… you got Chloe…"
"I don't-"
"I didn't need to stick around… I didn't want to stick around!" Your tongue becomes numb and you can't seem to control the words as they spill out. "I didn't want to just stand off to the side… and watch you with her!"
"What?"
"Nevermind." You drop your gaze, hoping that you can get clear headed soon before you say something as dumb as the plan he had come up with. "I should've… I shouldn't have gone along with it. It was such a stupid idea!"
"YN…"
"You said it! It was a mistake!"
"Babe, please…"
"Don't call me that." You state sternly, lifting your gaze with the deepest furrow in your brow. Would he smooth it like you did for him earlier? No.
"What?"
"Don't call me babe. I'm not your babe." You take two more steps back and pull out your phone to call for an Uber. "Babe is for someone you're with, actually with. We're not together. I'm not your babe. It was just pretend."
"I've called you that for forever…" He replies, softening his tone as he steps a little closer, causing your breath to exit and forget how to reenter. How does he always manage to take your breath away?
"Yeah, well, you shouldn't have."
"YN, come on, you're drunk. Please let me take you home." He pleads, wrapping his hand around yours and rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. You look down at the gesture, feeling your cold demeanor begin to melt at the touch you've become accustomed to over the past week.
"No. I have a ride. Just go back to the party. Go back to Chloe." You grimace as her name leaves your lips, and your hand leaves his. "I've done my part in all… this.
"You know what, YN? You agreed to do it! But you clearly didn't want to and you didn't have to either. So whatever it is you're angry about, you can't blame me."
"Fuck off." You take every last ounce of self-control that you have to stop yourself from explaining why you're so hurt and admitting to what you've been feeling for years. It could only make things worse at this point. You sigh and look down at your feet, wishing you could be swallowed up by the pavement.
"I wouldn't have asked you if I knew that this, all of this, was gonna happen." He steps back and puts even more distance between the two of you and your heart sinks. Now it feels awkward. Now it feels wrong. "It was definitely a mistake."
"Definitely a mistake." You whisper back.
A car pulls up right in front of the two of you, and you know it's your ride. You look between the vehicle and Harry, not knowing which one to step towards.
"So, this… this is it." He crosses his arms over his chest, beginning to tap the back of one foot with the toes of the other, and clears his throat.
You step backwards towards the car. You didn't think this night could've gotten any worse, yet here it is.
"Goodnight, H." You state quietly, turning to grab the door handle, opening it, and looking back one more time at your best friend. If you can still call him that.
×××
The next day was painful for so many reasons, and the hurt just continued through that week. And then the next.
With how much you drank, you would think the night would be a blur, but the universe and your mind are cruel. You remember all of it. Feeling good with Harry, feeling hurt seeing him with Chloe, feeling distracted with Trevor, feeling ecstasy kissing your best friend, feeling embarrassed by his rejection, feeling way too drunk, feeling angry, and feeling hurt. Then, feeling nothing.
Nothing has been the same. Harry didn't walk you to any classes, or bring you coffee, or sit with you at lunch. He didn't come over every other night just to hang out, share food, and watch TV. He didn't call. He didn't text. Nothing. Nothing has been the same these past two weeks.
You had told your friends that you wanted to avoid any more parties, but with a bit of begging, Eva convinced you to go to Seth's birthday party. It was hard to say no to your second best friends, or maybe first now, especially when they mentioned that Harry never responded to their invite. It's not too surprising. He wouldn't want to be where you are.
So, you can be comforted by the fact that Harry won't be there. Although, 'comforted' feels like the wrong word. But Seth's parent's house is more modest, and you'll know a lot more people at this party, which should help you to relax even by a miniscule amount.
At least, you hoped it would. But whenever someone new walks through the door, your eyes dart over towards them. Your heart stops each time, until their name is spoken or you see their face.
You would grab a drink, but the anxiety building within is enough to fill you up, and you probably couldn't stomach it anyway. Plus you figure it'll be easier to leave the party early, since you are suspecting your ability and desire to hang out with everyone will be minimal.
×××
Whether it's the size of the house, or the actual number of people in attendance, this party feels a lot bigger than the previous ones at Layla's house. You've only talked to maybe a handful of people in this large crowd, but are overwhelmed enough to need some space.
You walk up to Eva and lean in to be heard over the music.
"I'm gonna get some fresh air." You quickly state, hoping your volume is enough for her to hear, but quiet enough for others not to. You'd rather be alone.
"Oh. Okay. But-"
"I'm not leaving…" You chuckle, knowing she wants you to stay as long as she can manage to. "I'm just going to the backyard."
"Okay…" She replies, her tone causing a mild curiosity in you, but brushing it off as just her drunken state.
You turn around and squeeze your way through the crowds of friends that Seth and Eva seem to have accumulated over the years. You don't know if you have even half the amount of friends they have here. One person seems to have taken away the need for a large group of friends. With just him, and a couple of close others, you've felt fulfilled. Complete.
Maybe you shouldn't take too long of a break. Maybe you should recharge quickly and get back in there. Maybe you'll need to start finding some new friends to fill that empty void you now have in your life.
No one else seems to be outside, much to your delight, and you catch a quick glimpse of a patio swing out of the corner of your eye, which you immediately decide is the place you want to be.
You walk around the outside furniture and barbeque, but stop as you look up to the swing.
Harry is there. Right there.
You can't tell if the sudden inability to breathe is due to an excitement to see the person you've been missing for two weeks, or anxiety seeing the person you were completely embarrassed and rejected by two weeks ago.
"YN?" He whispers quietly, his eyes wide at the sight of you.
"Oh. Sorry. I didn't…" You begin to back up with very small steps. "I didn't know you were here."
He sighs, and it's potentially the saddest one you've heard, but that's the only thing that comes from him.
"I was just, umm, trying to get some air. But I'll… come back out later." You add. The reason to come outside was to relax, and clearly that won't happen for either of you if you stay. You turn around and head back inside, the emptiness in your friendship creating an emptiness in your heart.
Tears begin to cloud your vision. You do your best to guide yourself through the group of bodies to find a safe haven for yourself. The guest bathroom has a crowd forming outside of it, but you remember an office being close by. So through your blurry view, you fumble your way to the, thankfully, unlocked door and quickly close it as soon as you enter.
You take several steps forward, resting your palms on the wide, wood desk, and pull in some deep breaths. They don't last long as the door begins to creak open.
"Sorry, no one should be in-" Your words are halted as you turn around and are met with the most beautiful face. The face you're so familiar with, the face you've missed a lot, the face you love so much. "Oh."
"Hi."
"Hi."
"Can we talk, please?" He asks shyly, his head down and hand gripping the handle, only halfway through the doorway.
"I didn't think you'd-" You mumble back with a shaky breath, nodding and waving him into the room, watching as he hurriedly steps in, closes the door, and locks it.
He takes one step closer, still leaving an upsetting amount of distance between the two of you. But you understand. Last time you were close, too close, which didn't end well. Even though it was an incredible moment for those few seconds.
You shake your thoughts out as you are snapped back into the current moment by the clearing of his throat. You cross your arms around your body, a reflex to keep yourself together.
"What… happened?" He jumps right in, and you are so taken aback that you can't even decipher the context of his question.
"What do you mean?"
"That last party… it seemed to ruin everything. Things are so fucked up now."
Your eyes grow wide in shock. You figured he is just as embarrassed as you are, maybe a bit upset from your fight at the club, but you didn't think he'd feel like this. This intense. This harsh.
"I told you that plan was dumb." You respond, not completely meaning to make the statement aloud.
"Yeah, I get it." He frowns as he stares at the ground, clearly not even being able to look at you now. That hurts. "It was a huge mistake."
That hurts even more.
"You shouldn't have asked me."
"You shouldn't have said yes!"
"You shouldn't have kiss-"
You quickly shut your mouth, regretting those words, not meaning to bring it up and not wanting to admit that it means anything to you when it didn't mean anything to him.
"I shouldn't have kissed you." He finishes your thought with a shallow breath. You can see his regret, you assumed that was how he felt, but it still hurts. Not only because it meant something to you, and not to him, but because this is what it has caused. An awkwardness between you two. Between you and your best friend.
But anger begins to boil at the fact that this was all because of him and his stupid plan to win over some other girl. And that he only kissed you like that after seeing you hang out with another guy.
"So then why did you? Why did you kiss me?"
"You were with that other guy… you were supposed to… be with… me."
"Why did that matter? You were with Chloe! You got her! You got what you wanted!"
"I didn't get her. And I didn't get what I wanted."
"Oh my god, then I'm so fucking sorry if I messed things up for you with her!" You scoff, rolling your eyes at how pathetic this all is.
"I don't want to be with her!" He growls, running his hands down his face, then back up to run through his hair.
"Then what the hell is it, Harry? What the hell do you want that you didn't get?"
"You! For sucks sake! You! I want you, YN!" He growls.
"What?!"
"All I've wanted to do since that kiss… is kiss you again. And again." He moves towards you again, close enough now so that you can feel his warmth, and inhale his sultry dark scent, and feel that familiar tingle down your spine. "And again."
"But… we're friends…"
"Yeah. We are..."
Your body kicks into fight or flight mode, but is frozen in place. You have no idea where this is going and you're not sure if you want to know.
"Look, YN, I miss hanging out with you, and joking with you, and just talking with you. But now…" He sighs, stepping closer and closer until you can feel his breath on your face. "But now I also miss holding you, and making you blush, and kissing you."
Your breath hitches at his confession, your mind racing and your heart pounding.
"I… I thought we were just… pretending."
"I wasn't." He shakes his head, reaching his hands out to gently hold yours. "Maybe at first, because I was an idiot. But being with each other and doing all those couple-y things together made me realize I already had everything I wanted… with you."
"Harry, I-"
"I didn't even want to be with Chloe by that second party." He clears his throat and his admission causes your heart to flutter. "And she cornered me in the kitchen. I couldn't get away. All… all I wanted to do was be around you."
"Oh-"
"And when I got free, and you were with that guy, I snapped." He closes his eyes and shakes his head. "I guess I kissed you because… I wanted… dunno. You pushed me away and I should've left it at that but I couldn't. I didn't want to stop. But after the second one, you gave me that look and I got scared that you didn't feel the same. That you didn't want more."
"But I-"
"If you don't, I can live with that. I don't wanna lose you. I need you in my life. You're my best friend."
"But I-"
"But I wanna be more." He admits, squeezing his eyes shut as he squeezes your hands. "I want more than that, and I just need to know-"
"Can you just stop talking?" You exclaim, taking your hands back and moving them up to his shoulders. His eyes grow wide, with an expression of mixed emotions. "Let me have a turn."
"Okay…"
"I got jealous. So jealous. I hated the plan. I hated seeing you around another girl, and wanting another girl. Because I want more. With you. And… I have for a long time."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"Why didn't you?"
"Fair enough." He answers quietly with a small smile. "S'pose I just didn't want to lose you."
"Me either." You reply, a rush of pink appearing on your cheeks as you dip your gaze. A silence falls in the room, despite all the loud noises just outside the door.
"Do you want to be together?" He asks shyly.
Your brow furrows with sudden concern when you look back up to him, and his expression instantly matches yours. "Being together will change everything, Harry…"
"I don't think that's true." He shakes his head, using his thumb to smooth out the crease in your forehead, just like you did with him before. "It feels natural between us. We are comfortable with each other, we know each other, and we already spend lots of time with each other. This would just add… extra… perks…"
"Oh really?" You smirk, a tingle running through your body. "Like what?"
"Answer me first." He whispers, closing the gap between the two of you and resting his forehead on yours. He places both palms on your cheeks, giving you every sense of comfort and excitement possible. "I need to know what you want."
"I want to be together."
"Yeah?"
You nod.
He pulls back while his eyes flicker down to your lips and he grazes them with his own. All the breath in your body leaves in that moment and your hands work their way up to the nape of his neck. Eyes locked on each other, you could swear that your heartbeats are the only noise that can be heard.
"Harry-"
Your words are cut off by the feeling of his plush lips firmly on yours. Again. But this time, much better.
"Is this okay?" He asks as he pulls away, just enough to give you two some space to catch a breath.
"Yes." You giggle, twirling your fingers into his hair. You could get lost in his curls and not even mind. "Now, kiss me again."
His dimples pops in quickly before your face is pulled back to his with one hand, and your body pulled in with the other.
Your lips meet again, passionate and desperate, as if they've been starved since the last time they met. His hands waste no time and begin to roam your body wildly. Rubbing your back, moving down your waist, grabbing your hips, and gliding over your ass. If you thought any of the other times he touched you were exciting, this was absolutely overwhelming.
His body presses further into yours, causing you to slide up onto the desk behind you. Your lips are parted by his tongue and each movement raises in intensity. One hand moves to your knee, slowly making its way up your thigh and every ounce of heat in your body travels to your core.
His lips leave yours and move along your jaw, landing right under your ear.
"Is this okay?" He whispers, nibbling on your earlobe.
"Ye-... Yes." You utter, eyes closed as his breath hits your skin.
His hand slides further up and you've never been more grateful that you chose to wear a skirt, as you feel him squeeze his way to your core. He grazes two fingers over your drenched panties and lets out a pleased exhale.
"Bloody hell." He whispers, as you feel a smile against your skin in triumph. His fingers run up and down, teasing you, and creating an unbearable yearning within.
"H…"
"You want it?" He asks, with the low, deep tone that makes your knees weak.
"Yes." You whine, opening your eyes to look at him and not only show your sincerity, but also your desire. "Please, yes."
He slips in your panties, running his fingers along you again, your bare skin excited by the touch. Your breath hitches as his fingers dip slightly into your folds.
"Harry, please…" You plead, letting out a soft moan as they enter you and you feel the coldness of his rings hit your entrance. "Oh my god!"
"You're so damn wet." He utters, slowly pumping his fingers in and out. The actual touch, and the knowledge that it's finally happening with Harry, quickly builds the pleasurable pressure that he's giving you.
Words escape you. The sensation is taking over. You don't even realize you've made any sort of movement until your eyes snap open at the feeling of his hard bulge trapped within his pants. He growls as you palm him, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
"Fuck… YN…"
Your fingers move to the button of his pants, surprisingly able to undo it without any trouble, and as you pull down his underwear, his cock springs out of its confines. Your eyes shoot down as you wrap your hand around it. He is big. Thick and long. You've only ever imagined what he was like. You knew it wouldn't be disappointing, there was no way. But the actual view of his cock within your grasp causes your breath to hitch, and with his fingers inside of you, you get even closer to reaching your peak.
He moans as you pump your hand. You moan as he thrusts his fingers. Your noises being drowned out to others by the thumping music throughout the rest of the house, and only being shared between the two of you.
Harry curls his fingers up, immediately hitting your most sensitive spot. Your body shudders and you throw your head back as an exuberant exhale leaves your lips. He thrusts faster, curling up each time, and your thighs squeeze together as your orgasm draws closer. He spreads your legs apart slightly and wraps his free hand around your back, pulling you as close to him as possible and getting deeper with the access.
"Oh my go-… Harry… I'm abou- t- cu-"
"Go on. I wanna feel it, babe."
With the nickname that you have so desperately wished meant something more to him, being uttered from him in exactly the way you've wanted it, your orgasm tips over and your walls squeeze Harry's fingers as if they're trapping them there forever. You moan out again, and again, as the ecstasy floods over you.
Your free hand grips onto the desk for leverage, keeping your body upright and stable, as you do your best to continue your motions around his cock.
"Harry! Oh my god!" You exclaim, still panting yet opening your eyes to see the widest grin on his face. "That was… so…"
"Good?" He chuckles, biting down on his lower lip.
"Amazing!" You reply with a breathy giggle.
His mouth falls open and his eyes close as both of your focus fully turns to your work on his cock.
"YN… fuck…"
He pulls into your body again, grabbing your hips as he kisses down your neck and across your shoulder.
"M'gonna… fuck… I dunno where to… to cum." He mumbles between moans.
You push on his body, sliding off the desk. He lifts his head up and you smile when you see his blown out pupils.
"Can I…?" You begin to ask, both looking down to where you hold and stroke him.
His eyes snap back up to yours, desire and concern written all over his face.
"Are you… sure? You don't have to."
"I want to."
"Fucks sake. Okay. Yes. Yes."
You lower yourself down to your knees, looking up through your lashes as you notice him swallow hard at the sight of you.
"Are you sure?"
He nods, exhaling strongly, his chest rising and falling faster as you stick out your tongue to lick his leaking tip. You lick up his base before taking him in, his cock filling your mouth so much that you try not to gag immediately.
"S'alright." He mutters, starting to pull away.
"Don't move." You state, grabbing his hip to keep him in place. "You're big, H. I just need to get used to it."
He growls at the compliment and grabs your hair. You move slowly back onto him, stroking in rhythm with your hand, and getting him deeper each time your mouth takes him in.
"Oh my-... god."
He begins to subtly pump himself in and out of your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, making you have to pull off quickly.
"M'sorry."
"Keep going."
"What?"
"Keep doing it."
"Bloody hell."
You take him in again, adjusting to his soft thrusts, humming against him as he gets deeper.
"Fuck… m'gonna… m'gon-..."
You cup his balls, which sends him over the edge with a loud moan, feeling his warm release spill down your throat.
"Oh my god, YN." He whimpers, his eyes fixed down on you as he thrusts in deep, making sure you swallow every last drop.
You pull off once he's done, kissing his fern tattoos, and pushing yourself back up to kiss his cheek.
"M'sorry babe." He whispers, still attempting to catch his breath.
"Sorry for what?" You ask, suddenly worried that this may have been another mistake to him.
"M'sorry we didn't figure this out sooner." He smirks, running his thumb along your lips and placing his firmly against them.
"Better late than never." You smile, entangling your fingers back in his hair, deciding to make it their permanent home.
He tilts your chin up to look him straight in the eyes. "You are incredible. That… was incredible."
"What are best friends for?" You chuckle, sticking your tongue out between your teeth, but pulling it back in when you see him frown.
"It's what girlfriends are for."
"Yeah?" You ask and watch him nod, peppering kisses on your lips and cheeks, making you giggle. He pulls away and his gaze flickers between each of your eyes.
"I do have one more favor to ask, though." He states quietly.
"Oh god." You chuckle, not anxious in the least at what this request could be. "What is it?"
"Let me take you on a proper date."
You grin widely, matched by one from him, and you press your lips firmly together, now addicted to the feeling that you've been dreaming of for so long. Butterflies awaken in your stomach at his request, and you nod when you see the amount of anticipation splashed all over his face. You kiss his forehead and rest yours against it.
"I can do that."
~~~~~
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nyoomerr · 7 months
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Incoming prompt, if you don't already have enough! Bingqiu or Bingyuan, either is fine. Binghe is in the kitchen, cooking. Sy (or Sy!Sqq) comes up and maybe hugs him from behind while Binghe is forming dumplings or whatever and, for the very first time, jokingly calls him wife. At least he tries to make it sound like he's joking, but it comes across yearning, entirely too serious. Binghe, too, doesn't laugh. It's a bit too close to what he desperately wants to be, it hits way too close to his heart. So theyre both just standing there, silent, testing out the feel of it and being aware that the other one is just as affected.
The feeling of that scene could be tender and a bit fragile and silently intimate, full of unspoken feelings?
But yeah, feel free to disregard that if you don't want to write it or change it as you see fit^^ Have a nice day<3
zar u know i'll always write goodies for u if u ask 😘😘
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It - it really had been a joke, Shen Yuan swears! He’d only wanted to poke fun of Luo Binghe a bit, this great and fearsome demonic emperor who’d crossed entire worlds just to stand in Shen Yuan’s dingy kitchen and make dumplings. 
Luo Binghe was even wearing that stupid frilly pink apron he’d found shoved in one of Shen Yuan’s drawers - a gag gift that Shen Yuan hadn’t quite worked up the nerve to actually give to Luo Binghe, but that Luo Binghe himself seemed quite pleased with as soon as he’d learned it was, indeed, for him. Dressed up like that, diligently working on dinner hours in advance, wasn’t that basically asking for Shen Yuan to come play with him a bit??
So Shen Yuan had only wanted to have a bit of fun, nothing serious!! Nothing serious, okay?!! 
…But ah, why was it that when Shen Yuan came up behind Luo Binghe, tugging playfully at the frills of his apron and then dancing his fingers up further to tug at his hair, too -
“What are you, ah, my wife?”
- why was it that his words didn’t sound nearly playful enough for what he was asking?!!
Luo Binghe’s fingers stutter around the dumpling he’d been folding, making it come out a bit lopsided and misshapen. He clears his throat, delicately setting the dumpling down. Shen Yuan still has his hand in Luo Binghe’s hair.
“...Could I?” Luo Binghe asks, a bit too quiet.
“Um!” Shen Yuan says, quickly dropping his hand from Luo Binghe’s hair. “Um! …Sorry, could you… what, exactly?”
Surely, Luo Binghe didn’t mean - that is, he was probably just asking for permission to menace Shen Yuan a bit in exchange for having been poked fun of, right? Hahahahaha -
Luo Binghe turns his head to peer over his shoulder at Shen Yuan. The angle makes it look like he’s looking out from under his lashes, and the heat of the kitchen seems to have painted his cheeks pink even though the oven isn’t on right now.
“Could I be your wife?” Luo Binghe asks, and Shen Yuan very suddenly feels like all the breath has been punched right out of his lungs. “You - you’d let me marry you?”
Shen Yuan spends several long moments with his mouth flapping open and closed like a fish. That - no way, right??
“I think,” Shen Yuan wheezes, “I think I misheard you?”
Luo Binghe turns around fully to face Shen Yuan. Shen Yuan manages to have one single coherent thought about the way this position - Shen Yuan pressed in close to Luo Binghe, Luo Binghe trapped between him and the counter - really feels like the setup for a bad porno.
“Could I marry you?” Luo Binghe asks again, and - wow! Wow, Luo Binghe’s face is - um! Wow! 
“No?” Shen Yuan says, though it sounds strangled and not at all like a firm answer.
“Oh,” Luo Binghe says, and suddenly the expression he’d been wearing before - his eyes blown wide and cheeks pink and his mouth parted just slightly with what could only be apprehension and hope and a thrill - suddenly Luo Binghe looks much, much less happy.
“It’s against the law!” Shen Yuan rushes to clarify, his hands flying up to hover uselessly over Luo Binghe’s cheeks. He wants to - ah, he wants to - to help?? He wants to make that face go back to what it looked like before, ah! “It’s - in this world, um, that is - you couldn’t marry me. Because it’s, uh, against the law.”
Luo Binghe tilts his head, considering. “Marriage?”
“Not all, just - between two. Uh, two men. Or two women. Or - uh, yeah, just the gay ones. Are illegal.”
Luo Binghe draws his bottom lip in, just slightly, chewing on it. Shen Yuan wants to chew on it too. Fuck.
“I could say I’m a girl?” Luo Binghe offers, and Shen Yuan -
Shen Yuan very quickly turns around so he doesn’t have to look at Luo Binghe as he rallies himself. Focus, focus, do NOT think about that -!
“That would be worse,” he manages to get out, embarrassingly breathless. “I mean - uh, they wouldn’t believe you. You’d just end up harassed.”
Luo Binghe hooks his head over Shen Yuan’s shoulder, nosing into his cheek. Shen Yuan shivers, even though he is suddenly several degrees warmer than he’d been seconds ago.
“But if it was allowed,” Luo Binghe says, his breath fanning over Shen Yuan’s cheek, “I could marry you? I could be your wife?”
Shen Yuan’s knees buckle. Luo Binghe, ever attentive, catches him around his waist before he can really fall, and pulls him in even closer. The line of their bodies pressed together - Shen Yuan’s thighs, his hips, the whole length of his back - feels unbearably warm. 
Marriage feels - that’s a lot. Of everything. A lot of Luo Binghe - Luo Binghe would want to spend his whole life with Shen Yuan - a lot of - well, marriage seems quite a bit more gay than just roommates who share a bed and all their meals and sometimes get each other off.
“Please?” Luo Binghe asks, and - fuck!!
“Yes!” Shen Yuan says, as if the answer has been punched right out of him. “Yes, yes, of course - I mean, if you’d really want - I mean, we can’t, but -”
Luo Binghe presses a wet kiss on Shen Yuan’s cheek, humming happily. Shen Yuan’s jaw snaps closed with an audible click.
“Okay,” Luo Binghe says, pulling away from Shen Yuan. He doesn’t take his hands off Shen Yuan just yet, which Shen Yuan is grateful for - he isn’t quite sure he’d be able to stand on his own, right now.
“Okay,” Shen Yuan repeats, far more breathlessly than Luo Binghe.
Luo Binghe hums again, clearly amused, and then uses his grip on Shen Yuan to lift him and place him on an empty, mostly clean of flour section of the kitchen counter.
“Sit here,” Luo Binghe says, patting Shen Yuan’s knee. “Your wife is going to go get Xin Mo from the closet, and then we will go visit my world for a bit.”
“For - for how long?” Shen Yuan splutters, off balance from the seemingly non-sequitur and not at all from Luo Binghe calling himself ‘wife.’ 
“For about as long as it takes to get married,” Luo Binghe answers, grinning wide, and - 
Ah. Fuck. I’ve been played, Shen Yuan despairs, and then has to slap his hands over his face so he can pretend he doesn’t have a grin just as big and stupid on his own face. 
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