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#also this was the only way i could figure out how to get some background story in there so youre welcome i guess we have an actual plot
blckbrrybasket · 2 days
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Run, girl, run
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Artrick x Fem!Reader
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1k
ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Art’s grandma comes over after you and Patrick spend the night
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Art's grandma was the sweetest woman you'd ever known. She was the salt of the earth, raising Art to bring only kindness and love into the world. He always tried his best to please her, and for the most part he kept his soft heart even after starting college and while keeping Patrick around him. 
You balanced the two boys out. You kept Patrick in check, while also encouraging Art to loosen up a bit and enjoy his life outside of tennis. He wasn’t a teenager anymore, no longer bound by the rules of parent figures, urged on by your support. Most days with the three of you were like a dream, always helping the other to be the best they could be. Not that other people knew.
You all decided to keep your relationship private, not wanting outside judgments or prying eyes.
So no one else was aware, including Art’s grandma. Unfortunately for you, Art's grandma didn't always call before stopping by. She meant well, but her surprise visits meant quick texts from Art to make yourself scarce for the day. You always listened; even when Patrick begged you to mess with Art, you insisted on giving them space.
Maybe that’s why he got some sick satisfaction that Art's grandma had unexpectedly arrived for a visit while he was still half-dressed in Art's bed with you. The past night had been great, fucking until you were on the brink of exhaustion, and yet somehow Patrick was already energetic again in the morning. Art was usually a little slower to getting up, wanting nothing more than to drift back to sleep cradled in your arms.
However, the single knock on his door shattered the peaceful morning's atmosphere. Art groaned into his pillow, barely lifting his head to call out, “What?” A second of silence passed when his grandma’s sweet voice answered, “Art, sweetie? Is that you? I tried to call but I couldn’t wake you up.” She laughed softly, unaware of how fast Art shot out of bed.
He toppled over the side of the mattress, shoulder slamming into the thin carpet. Art hissed in pain, wasting no time when he popped back up. “Guys, you gotta go - now!” he whisper-yelled, shaking you awake. “Honey, are you alright?” Art winced at his grandma’s concerned voice. “I’m alright grandma!” Art replied, eyes darting between you and the door. 
His head swiveled back around to face you as you raised your head, blinking away the last traces of sleep to take in the scene. “Up!” You let out a silent sigh, looking around in confusion. Art was already moving on to scramble, grabbing the clothes off the floor. “What..?” You asked.
Patrick leaned over your bare shoulder with a wicked grin, having been silently awake for a while. “Art’s grandma is here,” he whispered in your ear with cruel amusement. He laughed quietly at Art’s frantic movements, your fingers pinching the bridge of your nose. You sat up with little urgency, the comforter rolling off your body. 
Art’s panic fell into background noise as Patrick slipped his shirt over you, giving you more coverage than just your underwear. A quick kiss silenced his mirth as you took in poor Art's panic. You turned away from Patrick when the sound of Art’s window opening drew you back to the present. 
Art came back into view, whipping around to face you with an expression full of worry. He grabbed your face for a desperate goodbye peck. “I'm so sorry,” Art apologized profusely, knowing there was no other way out than the window. You understood - there wasn't any other option with his grandma right outside the door. 
You shrugged, not caring all that much as you kissed him back, hands smoothing his curls down. “We get it,” Patrick mused. “You’re throwing us out like some hookups, no don’t worry,” he laughed as Art shoved his chest. “We get it!”
Patrick pecked Art’s cheek in an apology, ignoring his eye roll, before helping you to the end of the bed. His hand smoothly slid around your waist to guide you to the window. “Ladies first,” he said ‘gallantly’. Patrick watches you swing a leg over the sill as you snicker. “How chivalrous,” you goad.
Your hands find his, holding tightly as he helps lower you to the ground. It’s a gentle landing, greatly helped by Patrick who goes to follow suit the moment your feet find purchase. His landing is…a lot less graceful, shoved outside by Art. He could only hold his grandma off for so long, excusing that he was taking so long because he was simply getting dressed, deciding to hurry it along.
With a yelp, Patrick practically swan dove from the window, a mess of flailing limbs. He lands in a painful heap to the side of you, groaning. You could only sigh as you lent a hand to pull him upright once more. “Patrick,” you nearly whine in annoyance.
He wasn’t the last to come out though, your clothes raining down on him, adding insult to injury. “Seriously?” Patrick muttered, brushing himself off indignantly. You were all lucky that Art only lived on the first floor. 
Despite the exit, you couldn't help but laugh at Patrick's disheveled state, the window slamming shut after another apology from Art. Your giggles bubbled over as you freed him from the shorts caught on his ear and shoulder.
Patrick only huffed, bundling the clothes unceremoniously.  It was a rough start to the morning and you could see his thinly veiled annoyance. Wanting to lighten the mood, you leaned in for a quick kiss. His furrowed eyebrows softened some as his lips pressed to yours.
“Come on, first one back to my dorm gets head,” you challenged, lips brushing against his. Patrick's eyes lit up at the offer. In an instant, he gripped your hand and took off in a sprint across campus. You laughed with glee as the wind rushed past, any lingering stress melting away by your joint euphoria.
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scarletfasinera · 10 months
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Anyway since I can't send an ask because of character limit and I gave up after trying to write it three different ways and it not working, I'll just. Idk write a short vague post back? I'm assuming a vague for a vague is fair (don't worry I don't want to be mean I just have no other way of navigating this situation.) Since I'm exhausted & but want to at least express my view of it.
Idk just on the off chance they see this or one of our shared mutuals shows them or something. My "weak subtext" post had absolutely nothing to do with Adam Warlock, I didn't even remember that I reblogged that poll before making my post. I had seen like six other polls after the Adam one, bc I was actively looking through the blog, that did the exact thing my post was about, the blogrunner (who shall remain anonymous) had Pointed Out in private that it was happening and gave several examples & it was distressing them so I checked the blog myself and commented on it, which was why I made the post. Not the Adam poll in particular which I didn't remember and wasn't thinking about. I do not know enough about Adam to say anything about either the text or the subtext or anything, so I just. Wouldn't? It really baffled me that it was read that way.
Anyway. Farewell beloved mutual we barely knew ye...
#txt#the “people doing that across multiple polls” thing was also why I left the “annoying notes” tag#it just happened to be on the Adam poll because I like Miles and it was ine of the first ones on the blog#I didn't even process that people wouldn't have the background context & would read it as being Very Mean to Adam Fans in particular#But honestly I should have & that's on me & I deleted the post for that reason#Anyway I have NO BEEF with Adam fans and don't know enough about him to make any posts about him#It's just VERY STRANGE to me that this happened like I didn't even think about Adam I was just blogging 😭#I wish they had like asked me for clarification or something like I'm a dumbass and oftentimes an asshole by accident.#And I get misinterpreted A LOTTTTT but I never know how to KEEP IT FROM HAPPENING#and idk. I don't like being misinterpreted & I especially don't like being vagued over misinterpretation so I feel weird about it ):#Especially from a mutual that I liked? But. I'll forget about all this in the morning.#I mean I could also just. Reblog their vague and respond to it maybe#But idk I feel like that's a Lot because I don't want to out them to my followers as Having Vagued Me#I just would LIKE to address it privately but the only way to do that is via ask but it would be too long if I'm being serious about it#And tumblr's ask limit is like 500 fucking characters or something. Idk I tried figuring out the character limit andnit cut it off after#the FIRST PART#It would have taken like 7 fucking messages to send the whole explanation#And I don't want to swamp their ask box#The only reason the explanation is so short here is because I wrote it out in an exhausted Whatever tone that clips some of the explanation#short. Which I don't think would go over well when trying to explain a misunderstanding to someone who is mad at me enough to vague me#anyway here's your reminder that you can have conversations with people instead of jumping to conclusions 😔#I mean I'm not mad and I understand retroactively why the misunderstanding happened#but also if they had even like PM'd me like “Hey if your post was about Adam I disagree bc xyz” and I would have responded like#“Oh my post wasn't about Adam at all and I didn't even realise it seemed like that sorry”#or hell if they'd even anon'd me about it#Like I'm... actually not a mean person... I'm not going to verbally assault someone for interacting with me in good faith...
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that moment when: everyone's lives are restricted and constricted and these imposed consequences are attributed to anyone's continual individual failures to seek, find, and follow the Correct Path through Life, and so everyone is left on their own to only be seeking & finding these failures as well as the only answer to how their lives can be better....versus Not seeing the world as the free marketplace meritocracy of everyone's personal failures/successes, nor everything in your own life, and thus not forever having to scrutinize Where You Must Be Bringing It Upon Yourself by fucking up or at least failing to do the correct thing, and exist only in perpetual punishment for your ongoing failure and occasional temporary reprieves from it. recognizing everything that wasn't & isn't & wouldn't be [this is because you're bringing it upon yourself] and thus having more capacity & capability to look at the realm of your personal individual self, reality, experiences, life through the perpetual instances of seeking, finding, and following your own needs/wants through one's inherent personhood and exercises of autonomy and recognition of where & when & how one recognizes moments of their existing freely & in more resonant genuine alignment with themself, you know? endless examples to be found in endless fractals of [where & how are people's lives made smaller]. and that of course this doesn't preclude the ability/option at any time to question one's choices, since you'll be able to find more Actual choices available to you (and, also crucially, find more actual choices made by others that are in the pursuit of limiting Yours) to look at, and people getting to exercise their autonomy isn't the same as "everyone doing anything they want regardless of how it affects others" since that [how does it affect others?] element instead being Regarded would be able to lead to recognizing that, in fact, an effect might be the infringement on others' autonomy, hence: There's A Problem....like the ability to just go ham with [questioning???] anything in existence, certainly including oneself, b/c the "norm" is such that rather you're only supposed to be able to question yourself for your failings (or those positioned as less than, thus, beneath you) and not even have the language to express a questioning of aspects of life beyond that b/c stop calling anyone "cis" they're just Normal, Just Be Normal and it would all be fine
#brought to you by: i think one of my feelings lately of A Shift is in my less than ever running this like continuous background function of#looking for Thee Answer (just like the black suits) in any & everything that could serve as the Key to like. whatever could fit into place#to like set things on a [hell yeah. life? better] path. juxtaposing this recent sense of things with the [lol. in retrospect i Do see a new#context wherein i can Recognize smthing abt myself] past going on of like. granpa greentext story be me be fifteen i'm in college b/c i hat#school i also mostly assumed i'd probably fail out freshman yr but didn't. i've never known what i'd wanna major in & as a sophomore i'm de#supposed to figure it out in time for scheduling my jr yr classes (though Ideally have known from the start / been scheduling thusly) & so#many evenings during dinner i'm furiously perusing the daily print news as i've been doing for some yrs to Keep Up W/Current Events but now#also consciously like ''boy i hope in the course of doing this i stumble across some info that sparks some eureka moment of Getting what my#major should Obviously be so i can understand the rest of my life around [do job] b/c i sure as hell don't understand it around [be married#much less [be parent] so one option remains obvi'' whereas now i realize like lol you Were figuring out a guiding light in doing so & that#perspective being honed was one of Having A Political Analysis times....which also provides another Example of [only being able to interpre#what makes your life & your world the way it is: via Your Personal Failures to have already Had Better] in that just like i often forget i#misguidedly (but also reasonably; clearly also using & seeking that autonomy & freedom) tried to have a better existence within the#situation i was in by Coming Out As Trans to parents via an email that was then not directly discussed ever; b/c any legitimate discussion#was not permissible like how so many matters of [supposed correct existence] are Unspeakable so as to be Unquestionable#languaging that succeeds & sustains itself having to be expansive / flexible / creative / evolving too. Making Up Words hell yes#anyways so i also forget i Did try to propose majoring in things that Did more approach what i was suspecting were things i'd wanna do#but even the first like expression of anything on the periphery of that was met with ''no you'd hate it b/c you'd have to deal w/Stupid Ppl#every day'' (by which was meant; with believed inherent synonymity: poor people) & then i also will oft forget i pushed for it any further#which i Know i did b/c of it next being met with angry & aggressive ''i've never heard you talk abt that interest before So''#(wonder why? withholding info to protect yourself=finding room in one's life for existing more freely; exercising the autonomy to Do That)#but it's easy to forget b/c The All Encompassing Perspective was rather [i'm sure Failing to just Know my major for the sole possibility fo#defining one's entire life: The Correct Dream Job] & then Failing to push it or just express it & be understood ''correctly'' even if i Did#have any ideas in that realm. vs seeing how i Was succeeding & was recognizing shit & pursuing it & looking out for myself & etccc#it's undeniable lol like the framing even that Blaming Oneself is an autonomy seeking response. b/c your autonomous power in your own life#sure Would be more immediate if Everything Really Was Your Fault (when ofc really this is abt obscuring & denying the responsibility of ppl#who have the power over others' lives & then have to act like this is all the fault of the Others; they themselves have never Truly Chosen)#no victim blaming no condemnation of anyone's ''passivity'' here babey#re: the undeniability it's how like. maybe you've only Just realized you're not cis but in doing so it's like ''oh That's what i already#recognizing in various ways throughout my whole life'' it's all always Been there/going on & perspex shifts + new lenses can reveal them
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allbuthuman · 2 years
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i am actually none of the official types of neurospicy but a secret new one that they made just for me
#/j obviously but also i am genuinely perplexed#feel free to ignore this but i will type it out just because#when i was young from what i remember i acted quite neurospicy but then i somehow trained myself out of it#but i don't know if that's what happened or i had some childhood ocd traits and i genuinely grew out of them bc i know that's common#i was very socially unaware like i wasn't very anxious yet but i could not figure out how to act#like i was trying but i was getting it wrong#i was always very fidgety and stimmy since i was a baby#never has my hand not been doing some rhythmical motion#my brain feels very all over the place but i do remember a period of at least a whole year when it didn't feel that way#i'm very obsessive but only a specific brand of obsessive (aka with fiction/characters/certain people) that's been the same forever#i'm like almost the opposite of rigid thinking sometimes i feel like i think more in metaphors than in actual literal thoughts#i never had any problem with like. reading subtext and such. i love subtext#i'm absolute shit at communicating emotion at this point when i'm for example sad i have to consciously think of#how i or generally a person who is sad would act and do it on purpose#but i don't know if that's innate or i'm just constipated#absolute shit at eye contact and i wasn't even aware of that until i was told#i have a very specific fixation with things like certain numbers and it's constant for many years to the point where it doesn't bother me#it's very contained it's not a general thing just this one thing across contexts that just runs in the background at all times#most of these have been present for a long time but i remember periods where it's like they didn't apply?#like my memory isn't that good so idk how i acted or felt but it was never addressed by anyone i think#i had never even thought of some of these in my 25 years of life until i was told by a couple of people#that hey this isn't how most brains work actually#but again they're not therapists maybe they don't know better maybe they were just trying to be validating who knows#i should probably stop thinking about it this isn't getting me anywhere#maybe i'm just worse than usual bc it's a very transitive people so it makes sense to not have it all together right now#maybe i should think about it again in a year or something? no clue#if you've reached this point wow why i'm literally rambling this doesn't make any sense to me#but i'm keeping it ffr if only to dismiss myself later on
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flowersforbucky · 2 months
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down bad
bucky barnes x reader
author's note: i couldn't stop thinking about bucky being able to use his metal hand as a vibrator and therefore this was born.
warnings/tags: SMUT, oral (female receiving), fingering, bucky being used as a human vibrator, multiple orgasms, language, consumption of alcohol, reader is afab, no use of y/n, slightly possessive bucky, 18+ only
word count: 3.9k
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“You’ve got to be fucking joking,” Natasha mutters through a mouth full of popcorn. “Tyler from the statistics department? Are we talking about the same Tyler from statistics?”
“Nat, for the fourth time, yes. Tyler from statistics. The only Tyler from statistics that I know.” You reach for the bottle of Moscato that the two of you are sharing, pouring yourself some more wine.
“Nuh-uh,” Natasha shakes her head. “I don't believe you. There's no way he could be that bad.” She takes a sip from her own glass of wine. “He's too gorgeous,” she shrugs, turning to face you on the couch. The romantic comedy you had picked out for your bi-monthly movie night plays forgotten in the background.
“Trust me,” you sigh. “I was just as shocked as you are. But I swear on my life, he stuck his tongue in my ear. In my fucking ear, but wouldn't go down on me.” You can tell by the look on her face that Nat is trying her hardest not to laugh.
“He said his dick game is ‘too good to need to eat a girl out’.” You shake your head, cringing at the memory. “Which is also what he said when I merely suggested that he use my vibrator on me instead. He looked like I had kicked his dog.”
“Well?” she asks, a pained expression across her features. “Was it? Too good?”
“I didn't stay to find out,” you admit. “I faked a work emergency and dipped.” A laugh breaks through her pursed lips.
“I'm sorry–” she says, although her face says otherwise. “I shouldn't laugh. You just have the worst luck with men. Isn't that the third failed hook-up in what? Six months?”
“Don't fucking remind me,” you groan, throwing your head back on the couch and staring up at the living room ceiling. “I think I've lost all hope of ever having an orgasm given to me by another person again.��
Nat opens her mouth to speak, but quickly closes it when you both notice voices approaching from the hallway.
Sam and Bucky enter the room a moment later, both dressed uncharacteristically nice. You suddenly feel the desire to conceal yourself with the fleece throw blanket laying across your lap. You and Nat usually plan your movie nights for when the tower is relatively empty, so you're just wearing a pair of old sweatpants and a tank top. Bare-faced and hair unstyled, the fact that Bucky's gaze is locked on you as the two of them approach where you and Nat are lounging doesn't help. He's not smiling - but there's a look on his face that you don't quite understand. The ghost of a smirk on his lips and a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.
It's a look that makes you nervous - in addition to already feeling flutters in the pit of your stomach at how fucking good he looks.
“Hey, boys,” Nat greets them cheerily. “Where are the two of you going so dolled up?”
“There's a new nightclub in Brooklyn that a group of SHIELD trainees are going to tonight,” Sam answers. “They invited us and we've got nothing better to do. Figured we'd go check it out, get a few drinks. You ladies want to tag along? Or are you too busy watching - what is this, 10 Things I Hate About You?” He gestures towards the screen.
“Couldn't hurt to get out of the house for a while tonight, right?” Nat looks at you for confirmation, a knowing gleam in her eyes. “Who knows, you might even meet someone,” she adds, nudging you with her elbow.
Bucky lets out a sound halfway between a laugh and a cough, which he tries to play off as the latter. You narrow your eyes at him before glancing back to Natasha.
“For sure,” you agree, trying to ignore Bucky's bizarre behavior. “Couldn't hurt. You guys go on, we'll get ready and head there soon. Text us the name of the club?” You direct the last part to Sam in particular.
“You got it,” Sam says as he pulls his cell phone from his coat pocket. He turns to leave when both your and Nat’s phones chime with the club information. “Let's go man, our Uber's here,” he directs at Bucky.
“See you both soon,” he says before turning to follow Sam, though his gaze is still only on one of you.
“I'm gonna go throw on some make-up, curl my hair, and hope I can find something somewhat cute to–” Nat starts as soon as Bucky and Sam have turned back down the hallway.
“Was he acting kind of odd?” you interrupt her in a hushed tone.
“Barnes? Always. I've stopped reading into it too much.”
“Some spy you are,” you mumble. “Meet me back here when you're ready.”
— — — — —
One hour later, you're applying some last minute mascara and lip gloss in the backseat of an Uber on your way to downtown Brooklyn. Natasha sits beside you, ranting about an assignment that Fury has tasked her with and you swear you're trying your hardest to absorb everything she's saying - but your mind keeps going back to the way Bucky was looking at you just an hour ago.
What was with that little smirk? That curious glimmer in his eyes? Had he overheard your conversation with Nat? Had he developed the ability to read minds and knew you were thinking about how fucking hot he looked? Or was that thought simply written all over your face?
You knew you couldn't deny it. Bucky does look exceptionally attractive in his black suit, with his perfectly tousled hair - but you had found him to be ridiculously good looking since you'd first met him. Even in casual, everyday clothes, even in gym shorts and drenched in sweat, even covered in blood after particularly brutal miss–
“You girls have a great evening,” your Uber driver interrupts your train of thought as he comes to a stop in front of your destination.
You really need to get fucking laid. You definitely shouldn't be having these kinds of thoughts about Bucky. He's your coworker, your teammate, your training partner on many occasions, your friend…
Natasha thanks him and hands him a generous cash tip before climbing out of the car right after you.
“Thanks,” you tell her. “I'll buy our drinks.”
“Don't worry about me,” she tells you with a sly grin as you both flash the bouncer your IDs and enter the club. Despite the night still being relatively young, it's already bustling inside.
“You just focus on meeting people, mingling, maybe hitting it off with a super hot guy and taking him back to your place for some mind-blowing–”
“Super hot guy? Are you talking about me?” Sam’s voice interrupts Nat. You both turn around to see him and Bucky walking towards you, drinks in hand.
There's a roguish smile on Bucky's face as his eyes skim up and down your figure.
“You both look wonderful,” he compliments, but once again, his stare is focused only on you. If Natasha notices, she says nothing.
To be fair, you were impressed with how well you managed to put yourself together with such little notice. You found a black, backless mini dress crammed in the back of your closet that you had forgotten all about after snagging it on clearance forever ago. The form-fitting material hugs you in all the right ways, and paired with your favorite pair of strappy black heels, you're feeling infinitely more confident than you were when Bucky saw you just an hour prior.
“Thanks!” You chirp quickly, averting your gaze from him to take in your surroundings. To your left, the dance floor is lively, though not too overcrowded for your liking. To your right, there's a bar surrounded by tables filled with groups of people conversing - you vaguely recognize a couple of SHIELD agents huddled around one. The entire room is illuminated by the faint blue-green glow of the mood lighting, and the bass of the music vibrates through the floorboards.
Sam and Bucky excuse themselves to go say hey to the group of agents that had invited them, while Nat all but drags you over to the bar. You order a double shot of whiskey and throw it back as quickly as you can.
“I see what you mean now,” Nat whispers to you after downing her shot of tequila. “About Barnes,” she clarifies. “He's been eye-fucking you since we walked through the door.”
If you hadn't already swallowed your liquor, you would have spewed it all over her.
“He has not been eye-fucking me, Nat,” you say in an almost scolding tone.
“I'm just saying,” she throws her hands up. “There’s no way he could possibly be any worse than the last few guys you've gone for. I think you should go for it,” she shrugs.
“It's not that I don't think he'd be good,” you say defensively, forcing yourself to look away from where he and Sam are socializing with the small group of SHIELD agents a few tables away. “I just don't want things to be weird afterwards. We work together nearly every day, and we have a bunch of mutual friends–”
“Suit yourself,” she cuts you off in a tone of voice that very much says if you say so. “Now, are you going to dance with me or not?” She adds as she begins tugging you towards the ever-busying dance floor.
You spend the next half hour dancing with Nat before she's swept away by some black-haired doctor looking type. Good for her, you think as you watch them converse intimately at a small booth on the other side of the room.
Thanks to the liquid courage that runs through your veins, you're okay with the fact that Bucky stands just twenty feet away from you, watching you as you dance among the thick crowd of people.
You've made eye contact with him a few times now - on accident or on purpose, you're not sure at this point. But each time, your eyes lingers on his for a moment longer than the last.
You're mentally daring him to come here, to make a move, to do something other than stand to the sidelines of whatever conversation Sam and the others are engaged in.
The slightest bit of pressure on your waist snaps you back to the now congested dance floor.
You look up to find that the hand on your waist belongs to a tall man with shoulder length, sandy blonde hair. He's conventionally attractive enough, though not who you were hoping would come grab you on the dance floor.
“I'm Shawn,” he introduces himself, loudly enough for you to hear him over the roaring music. You tell him your name, pushing aside the pang of disappointment in your chest.
“Do you want to go somewhere a bit quieter to talk, maybe? Let me buy you a drin–”
“There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you,” a voice booms from behind you.
Shawn immediately retracts his hand from your waist, backing up a few inches as Bucky comes into view beside you.
“Must not have been looking too hard, I've been right here this whole time,” you jab back with a smug smile.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to–” Shawn says as he starts to back away.
“No worries, bud,” Bucky says in an overly friendly voice as he moves to stand in front of you, blocking you from Shawn's view entirely.
“Took you long enough,” you tell Bucky once the man is out of ear shot, once again beginning to sway to the music. “Get bored of listening to Sam hype himself up to the newbies?”
He takes a step closer, angling himself behind you. The crowd of people surrounding you edges you closer to him - your bare back brushing against the cool satin fabric of his suit.
“Maybe,” his chest vibrates against your skin when he speaks. He places his hands on either side of your hips - eliciting goosebumps across your skin in a way that no one else has in a long, long time.
“Or maybe I just wanted to save you from wasting your time on another guy who can't make you come.”
Your movements come to an abrupt pause as his words hit you.
He had fucking overheard your conversation with Natasha.
At a loss for words, you turn to face him. There's a shit-eating grin spread across his face. He thinks this is hilarious and it's obvious.
“Hasn't anyone ever told you it's rude to eavesdrop?”
“Is it really eavesdropping if I have superhuman hearing?” He takes a step closer to you, closing what little distance was separating you. The peaks of your breasts brush against his chest.
“So what happens now that you've saved me from another unsatisfactory hook-up?” You challenge, staring up at him in the neon blue lighting.
You can smell hints of cedarwood and sage from his cologne in your close proximity. It's so delicious that it's dizzying.
“Let me take you somewhere more private than this dance floor and I'll show you.”
“You seem to have a lot of confidence in your ability to give me a better experience,” you say, leaning forward so that your face is just inches from his.
He responds by placing his flesh hand on the small of your back and pulling you flush against him. The tips of his fingers continue to dance down the skin of your exposed spine. His vibranium hand comes to cradle your jaw, his metal thumb tracing your bottom lip.
His mouth forms a dark smirk - and then you feel it. It starts soft and subtle and then gradually increases in intensity.
His fucking thumb is vibrating against your lip.
If you hadn't been standing in the middle of a crowded dance floor at a nightclub in downtown Brooklyn, you would have taken that thumb into your mouth and sucked on it right then and there.
“What do you say?” he asks, now tugging on your bottom lip with the pulsing digit. “Are you going to let me take you to the first empty room I can find in this place and make you come?”
“I say show me the way.”
He removes his hand from your face and turns you in the direction of the back of the club. He guides you through the throng of dancers, keeping his hands placed firmly on either side of your waist from behind. His vibranium fingers still hum softly, reminding you of what he says is to come.
Directly past the dance floor, there's a hallway blocked off by a rope with a sign that reads employees only. Taking a quick look around, you see that all of the patrons surrounding you and Bucky are paying you no mind. Bucky unhooks the flimsy rope and the two of you slip down the hallway.
He jiggles the handles of several doors that all turn out to be locked. Not wanting to waste any time or draw any attention to yourselves with picking locks, you continue down the dark corridor until the heavy music from the heart of the club fades to a muted roar.
The very last door opens without a hitch.
Thanks to the pale orange glow of a table lamp on a desk in the corner of the room, you can see that you're in a makeshift office/supply room - a couple of filing cabinets, cleaning supplies, extra glassware, and some sound equipment strewn haphazardly throughout the limited space.
Bucky clicks the lock into place as soon as he closes the door behind him.
You're going to turn around him and tell him that he doesn't have to do this - that as badly as you want this, you don't want to ruin your friendship, that as badly as you want him, he doesn't have anything to prove to you - but his lips are already on yours as soon as you start to open your mouth.
He doesn't take his lips off of yours as he guides you backwards to the rickety wooden desk. The backs of your thighs hit the table and Bucky effortlessly lifts you to sit on the edge, giving him the perfect angle to deepen the kiss - with his tongue exploring your mouth, you're unable to stop yourself from groaning into the kiss.
You fist your fingers into his hair, tugging just hard enough so that he hisses into your mouth. His own hands trail from the sides of your stomach and down your thighs, until he reaches the tail of your dress. You instinctively part your legs for him, as much as the restrictive fabric will allow, and his vibranium hand shoots between your thighs.
He teases you, dragging his index finger along the cloth of your panties that you know you're close to soaking through already. Just as the tip of his finger pauses above your clit, his finger begins emitting the softest vibration.
You break the kiss, breathless as you throw your head back at the sensation. Bucky takes it as an opportunity to attach his lips to the pulse point of your throat, nipping your flesh with his teeth followed by a wet kiss.
He continues with the ministrations through your panties until you're rutting against his hand, needing more. He tugs your underwear to the side and increases the intensity of the vibration before nudging his middle finger past your entrance.
You have to hold onto his shoulders to steady yourself - despite the fact that you're sitting, your body feels like jelly beneath his touch. He adds in his index finger with ease before cupping your pussy in his palm - the heel of his hand pulsating against your clit.
“Fuck, Bucky,” you cry against his mouth.
“You're so fucking wet for me, you know that?” He coos, thrusting both of his fingers against the spongy-flesh of your walls.
You can feel the vibrations of his hand all the way from your belly to your toes.
You begin grinding your hips to meet the movement of his fingers, fucking yourself against his hand. There's a familiar knot forming in your lower belly as he curls his fingers inside you -
“I want you to think about me and how good I'm making you feel every time you think about letting some fuckin’ nobody touch you,” he says in a low voice next to your ear. “I want you to think about riding my fingers until you come all over my hand.”
His words send you over the edge and you do exactly that - your pussy clenching around his fingers as you ride them through your orgasm. While you're still coming down from the high of your climax, Bucky pulls his metal fingers out of you and brings them to your lips, inserting his index finger in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the slick metal as he brings the vibrations to a halt and then slowly pulls the finger from your mouth.
He picks you up off the edge of the desk and plants you back on the ground - your legs still shaking from how hard you had come.
“Turn around and lean over the desk,” he instructs you, soft but authoritative.
You don't know if it's because of the way he's looking at you or because of how good he's already made you feel, but in that moment, you would've done anything he asked of you.
You bend over the desk, supporting yourself by leaning on your forearms. You peak back over your shoulder to look at Bucky - he hikes your dress up, baring your ass to him.
He lets out an audible groan before he has even pulled your panties down to your ankles.
He kneels on the ground behind you, his face inches away from your cunt. He uses both his flesh and metal hands to spread you open for him, and then his tongue is licking up your center from behind.
God, you hope no one tries to come into this room. The door may be locked but the sounds that someone would hear if they even walked up to the door…
Bucky knows just how to make you writhe above him. He's soft when he's kissing up your folds and unsparing when he's sucking your clit between his lips. His hands hold your ass in a firm grasp that teeters between pleasure and pain.
You grind back against his face and he moans so deeply that you feel the vibration of it up your core. Your eyes roll back into your head as you clutch the sides of the desk to better support yourself.
His enthusiasm alone has you spiraling towards a second climax embarrassingly fast.
“You know,” he murmurs against your sensitive pussy. “When I overheard you say that someone had refused to go down on you, I couldn't believe it. What a fuckin idiot to pass this up.” He gives your ass cheek a firm slap with his flesh hand before diving his face between your legs once more.
It's just seconds before you feel the telltale pressure growing in your lower belly once more. You go limp against the table, Bucky placing his hands on the backs of your thighs to help keep you upright as you ride out your orgasm on his face.
You continue to lay against the desk as you regain control of your breathing. Bucky stands up, tugging your panties up your legs and back around your waist as he does. He then shimmies your dress back down into place so that you're once again looking club-appropriate.
When you turn around to face him, he's wiping your slick from his lower face on the sleeve of his suit, once again displaying a shit-eating grin.
“What was it you said?” He asks in mocking contemplation. “You had lost all hope of ever having an orgasm given to you by another person again?”
“I think you've made your point. You're fantastic at eating pussy and you're a walking human-sex toy.” You roll your eyes at him and start to walk towards the door, but he grabs your wrist in his metal hand, stopping you.
He pulls you back to him and brings his flesh hand to cradle your jawline. He stares at you in a heavy, uncertain silence for a split second before bringing his lips to yours.
It's a kiss that's a bit more hesitant, and a lot less rushed than the one before. You taste yourself all over him, warm and salty. He takes his time getting lost in your mouth - you savor every second and it still comes to and end all too once.
“Couldn't help myself,” he smiles softly when he pulls away. “Just had to kiss you one last time.”
You can't help the way your heart skips a beat when he says the word last.
You clear your throat. “We should probably go find Sam and Natasha,” you say, giving him a small smile in return. “I'm sure they're both wondering where the hell we are.”
You spend the rest of the evening attempting to mingle with friends, but there's one thought that torments you for the remaining duration of the night - just a few hours ago, you doubted that you'd ever have a satisfactory hook-up ever again.
Now, you had to wonder if anyone else could ever make you feel as good as Bucky did.
♡♡♡♡♡
i left this kind of open-ended soooo leave it to your own interpretation what happens next for them 🤭
as always comments/reblogs are infinitely appreciated. thanks for reading!
my masterlist
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violetrainbow412-blog · 10 months
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A fair payment [W. W.]
Willy Wonka x fem!reader
word count: 1.5k
People who might be interested: @strugglingwriterwattpad @cattail5 [Timothée masterlist]
some minor Wonka spoilers I guess! If you like it, tell me in the comments, that will make me happy :)
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“Can you mend it?” Willy asked, carefully holding his emerald green jacket that had the sleeve seam torn.
The boy had arrived a couple of weeks ago to turn the world of everyone present in the laundry upside down and, honestly, you were already beginning to enjoy his presence. You looked in the background at the blackboard that Noodle used at night to give him lessons in the hope that he would learn to read because, according to the girl's words, because of that he was almost eaten by a tiger. But in the man's words, what was important was the almost part. 
However, tonight he had asked you especially to go to his room, because he had a problem that he thought only you could solve.
“I think so, I just have to pass the needle a couple of times” you smiled.
Since your arrival Mrs. Scrubbit had used your sewing skills for her own benefit, because after all you had ended up in that mess trying to save a little to be able to buy the necessary materials to make a pretty dress that would be worth enough to advance in the business. Although, obviously, that had not been possible.
"Thank you! I'm afraid that's my only jacket."
“It will be ready in no time. I’ll just go to my room and come back, okay?” you said kindly, placing the garment in the boy's lap and earning a sweet smile from the aforementioned.
Just as Willy had his little briefcase for his chocolates, you had your own, full of threads, needles, and buttons, which you just had to grab from the floor to get everything you needed. When you arrived back you settled at the little table and he remained attentive to your every movement, pulling out a chair so he could observe what you were about to do.
“There was a boy on the ship who helped me with these things,” he began to tell you, keeping his curious nose on your shoulder “But I never thought about learning. You know, for when I had to be alone”
“Well, it's lucky you ended up here. We are a curious collection of workers,” you murmured ironically, referring to all the people gathered there against their will by the work of fate "What did you do on the ship?"
"Cook. Mostly sweet things, but I also know a couple of useful non-chocolate-related recipes. I was the chef,” he said, and you laughed at the exaggerated way he pronounced the last bit.
Willy began to tell you about some of the adventures he had had on the high seas and you listened attentively as the tip of the needle went in and out to join the fabric. It only took a few minutes to get his clothes looking like new, taking the liberty of repairing other places that also needed it.
“Put it on,” you asked, trying not to look at him too much when he did so or pay attention to the way the jacket fit him perfectly.
"It is perfect! You can't even tell it was torn, huh?” he said with emotion, feeling with his hands as much as he could. “How much do I owe you?”
“Oh, it's nothing.”
“I insist,” the man murmured. His curly hair bounced across his cheeks as he sat next to you and he lifted his small briefcase off the floor, opening it to reveal all the little bottles of ingredients. “Your talent for mine. It's a fair exchange."
You had to admit that the chocolates you had eaten were a complete delicacy, but a part of you didn't want to get used to that luxury or you knew that when Willy was gone you would miss his sweetness. In the literal and figurative sense.
Locked in that laundry it was impossible to meet many people your age and Noodle was your greatest company, as if he were a little sister to you. But now that he was there, there was a certain happiness in chatting with him, much more now that his ingenious mind had devised a way to get you out of there even if it was just for a few hours to see the light of day and get coins from the sale of the chocolates to free you of the enormous debt to Mrs. Scrubbit.
“What flavor do you want to try today? Do you want me to add some unicorn skin glitter? Rays of sunlight from a twilight on the seashore? Tears of an African crocodile?”
“Just give me something you think I need,” you replied softly.
Willy thought about it for a moment, because it wasn't the kind of answer he would have expected. What was he supposed to give you that night? A little hope? Happiness? Nostalgia? It was difficult to decide.
Through his bright eyes you watched him reflect and just a second later his hands began to work. You noticed there was a hint of mischief in his smile as he poured milk, chocolate, and the contents of a couple of jars into the processor, glancing at you from the corner of his eye from time to time.
“What are you going to do when we get out of here?” he asked suddenly, not neglecting the tasks.
“Working in a sewing workshop, I guess.”
“Why don't you open your own fashion house?” Willy suggested carefreely, as if it were a very easy thing to do, “You are a great dressmaker.”
“And you are a great dreamer”
“It's my best quality,” he exclaimed, almost offended. You waited a moment before answering.
“I just don't think it's that simple. It requires effort, time, and a lot of money…”
“We will have everything,” he interrupted you, with that optimism that characterized him. Suddenly he stopped what he was doing and one of his hands traveled to take yours. “When I open my factory, we will all be able to fulfill our dreams. And you are going to have a fashion house, I promise you.”
“You make a lot of promises,” you responded, blushing.
“And he planned to fulfill them all. I always do it"
Maybe there was something about the softness of his grip on your hand or perhaps the sparkle in his eyes that made you look away out of sheer nervousness. He seemed to be good and innocent, to the point that he probably didn't even realize how close he was to you or how inappropriate the position would be if Noodle ever walked in.
A tap interrupted your moment and then he abruptly pulled away, excited to show you the product he had just made. It was a pretty circular candy that was bright pink and seemed to be emanating smoke from the inside.
"What's that?"
“You'll have to try it to find out,” he murmured, as he extended the treat in your direction.
You had to admit that you were somewhat curious to discover what the man was offering you, so you took it between your fingers carefully, and even under his watchful gaze you took a bite.
At first it tasted like ordinary chocolate, but then it took on a strange tone, which made you feel a certain warmth in your chest that spread to your cheeks. It was a most pleasant feeling, like bubbly joy combined with the embarrassment of a hug.
You thought for a moment about what flavor that could be, without any success, until after a few seconds you realized that it wasn’t a flavor in itself, but a feeling, an experience... Was it love that Willy had given you?
“How does it taste?”
“Yummy,” you responded, covering your mouth so he wouldn’t see the wet chocolate on your tongue, but also to hide your smile “Delicious, actually. What does it contain?”
“A special and secret ingredient”
"Oh, come on! Aren’t you going to tell me?”
“I just want to know if I got it right,” he murmured and you frowned slightly, not understanding him “About what you asked for. Did I give you something you needed?”
You had to bite your lip to keep from smiling again, your cheeks feeling hot from the simple fact that he was looking at you. You thought that this could even be a love potion that you had consumed without thinking about it, just because he was the one who was offering it to you.
“We could say yes”
“We're even, then,” he exclaimed as he waved the sleeve of his jacket and you nodded in amusement, eating the rest of the chocolate he had made for you.
A yawn leaving your lips made you aware of how exhausted you were and although you didn't love the idea, you knew it was time to leave.
“It's late, I should go to sleep before we wake anyone up.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Willy said quickly, getting up from his seat to accompany you to the exit. “I'll see you tomorrow.”
“Rest,” you said kindly, and, gathering courage, you leaned forward a little to say goodbye with a hug that he gladly returned.
As you walked down the hall to your shabby, damp room, you thought that it probably wouldn't have even taken a love potion to fall for the charms of the pleasant chocolatier. You just needed one of his smiles.
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zillychu · 3 months
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designs for a zine piece! enjoy some background story my illustration never needed under the read more (fair warning I did NOT edit this at all):
newbie mage apprentices Sam and Tucker who became friends bc they're kinda… the ones at the bottom of their class and struggle the most, for different reasons. they become besties over time and practice together!
except one night, something goes terribly wrong. they spent the last few nights preparing for a project, a bigger spell that needs an intricate circle with precise measurements to work. but when they try to activate it, well… 
oops. they summoned a demon.
which is, for one, extremely illegal. only certified demonologists are allowed to summon demons because they're so dangerous. anything less than a perfect binding circle and thoroughly researched info on the demon, including their true name, is even remotely safe.
but, weirdly enough… the demon seems just as surprised as they are. as Sam and Tuck frantically try to figure out how to dispel the demon, they realize–oh god, did their circle actually sufficiently bind the demon? it can't leave. they watch the demon tentatively poke it's claws into the air around the boundary, and watch it fizzle, retreating back with a strained hiss.
okay. okay, they can do this. without death looming over their heads, they can figure out how to send the demon back. it's cool, it's fine. except while they leaf through their books, they notice the demon watching them. it looks kind of… curious. timid. interested in what they're doing. it catches them noticing his staring, and it. apologizes? it seems flustered?
weird, okay. they keep looking, and the demon starts talking. at first, little comments to itself. mumbles that soon get just loud enough to hear. little “ooh, is that a telescope?" and “is that what fire looks like up here?" and “that must be for making charcoal…”
Sam is the one brave enough to be like "are all demons as chatty as you??” and the demon gets flustered again, apologizing. says he's just never been topside before, he's only read about humans in tomes. oh wow is that the moon outside? it really IS blue up here! is it always blue? what are you doing up? I thought humans slept at night?
Sam and Tuck can't help getting pulled in with the demon's genuine curiosity. they're wary though, since they know demons can be clever, conniving. there's a number of ways a demon can get the upper hand on a summoner who has them bound. if he gets their full names, gets them to smudge and break the circle… there could also be ways they aren't aware of. so they consider their words carefully, but engage in some chatter while they research.
it's almost morning by the time they find a way to send the demon back–but as they prepare the spell, the demon says WAIT WAIT and they stop, uncertain. the demon starts stammering out how this is weird but like… he really had fun tonight. he doesn't get to just hang out much, especially with anyone his age.
Tuck is like “how do you know our ages??" and the demon points out "oh, you said something about Paulie’s 18th birthday party, so I thought…” and they're both like oh shit we didn't even notice we did that?
“Paulina" Sam corrects in her dumbfounded stupor. 
“Right, Paulina!" the demon snaps his fingers, but quickly loses his confidence when Sam and Tuck continue to stare at him like they're not sure what's going on. he coughs and fidgets and says “um, well, I was just wondering, I guess… if you wanted to summon me another time, I wouldn't mind. you see those circles there? yeah, that's what summoned me. the candles helped too I think. oh, it doesn't need all those runes though, probably don't want to redraw all those.”
Sam and Tuck are practically gawking, but… for some reason, this demon looks so sincere. so much like them, awkward and lonely and genuinely curious.
it's a bad idea. a terrible one, even. the demon probably noticed they're newbies and not demonologists. it could be hoping they make an error in their circle, or mess up a candle, or reveal their names on accident. 
But, well. They're stupid. they're also eager for anything to help them in school, and too empathetic for their own good. they send the demon off with a yeah, no. they then think about it for a week, and end up summoning the demon against their better judgment.
the demon is shocked and so happy, they can't help but be a little endeared. they lay down some ground rules, take care to be as safe as possible… and soon, this demon that introduces himself as “Phantom" becomes a nightly visitor. they talk about their worlds, find out they share a lot of common interests, and help each other in their studies. which, hello, demons also study? bro are you serious??
they play games, laugh till their ribs hurt, and open up to each other on a far deeper level than anyone expected. over time, Phantom becomes a true friend.
Sam and Tuck quietly begin to lament the fact Phantom is stuck in that damn circle. they want to take him places, let him see the human world he seems so interested in. they want to paint his stupid claws and noogie him between his dumb horns and hug him.
but it's an astronomical risk. it's legal for a demonologist with a proper permit, but it's still considered a grave taboo to grant access to a demon outside a circle. there's just too much at risk. demons can be dangerous enough to lay waste to entire towns, take multiple teams of military-rank mages to take down.
they wouldn't risk it… if they hadn't snuck into the library’s restricted section and copy a page from a demonologist book that gives them good framework for a contract. they make some edits to it though, giving Phantom at least a little wiggle room to protect himself if need be. and allow him use of transformation magic so he can hide somehow. but they spend weeks making sure they have airtight wording to ensure Phantom can't cause anyone or anything any substantial harm. 
when they finally bring the contract to Phantom, he's stunned. he cries. nothing needs to be said, they all know the gravity of their proposal. even if they ask for proof of Phantom's trust in turn, first. they ask for his full name, so they can bind him. just temporarily. but in that moment, they'll have full control over him. they could instead tell Phantom to serve them, force him to obey their every order. even if it's just for a moment, giving them his full name with the proper circle and incantation, is putting his life in their hands. 
Phantom, with tears still in his eyes, smiles warmly and nods. with only a breath to steel himself, he gives them his full name. Daniel James Fenton.
magic sparks in the circle, and Sam and Tuck finish the incantation. ethereal chains sprout up to wrap around Phantom's arms and legs, which makes him jump–but the unwavering trust in his eyes makes the two humans choke up.
they release the binding. all that's left is to break the containment barrier in the circle, so Phantom can walk free.
“Uh, about that…” Phantom laughs sheepishly… then proceeds to step outside of the circle, merely wincing when the barrier zaps around him.
Sam and Tucker gawk. Phantom scratches his neck. “Y-yeah, so… your barrier circle was already broken that first night. It's, uh… right over there. You missed a spot.”
abject horror overcomes them because this entire time Phantom's been visiting, he could have broken out? EASILY?? THEY WOULD HAVE BEEN DEAD.
Tucker falls to his knees, but soon starts to laugh. it's kind of hysterical at first but slowly, he and Sam are genuinely laughing. they're so STUPID, and Phantom is the most un-demonlike demon they've ever HEARD of. Phantom is still flustered, stammering out apologies because he wasn't trying to deceive them or anything! he just didn't want to scare them! without a proper containment circle they technically couldn't send him back either, so he just… went back using his own magic each time they “dispelled" him. 
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once they've calmed down, Phantom morphs his body into a human form–which shock Sam and Tuck, because uh, only elite demons are capable of that. they were expecting an animal, or straight up going invisible. Phantom laughs it off, says he just, spent a lot of time practicing bc he's so interested in the human world (not a lie, but). he proceeds to adopt the nickname Danny, and they all have FUN WONDERFUL SHENANIGANS
(and sometime in the near future, when faced with something truly threatening he needs to protect them from, Danny reveals that. well. their contract also had some holes in it. and he's had access to his full demon power this whole time. whoopsie! it's a good thing he genuinely loves them and doesn't want to hurt anyone, or their asses would be SO dead lol)
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they're about as normal about his full demon form as you'd expect from me btw:
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sm-baby · 9 months
Text
The Chosen One
Freakshow AU by: @hootbon
WHATS UP FREAKSHOWERS, SM-BABY HERE-
Banned myself from drawing for a bit but my creative juices were still screaming at me 😔 gonna also repost this on ao3 later when I set up the account
Word count: 6795
Freakshow AU Able with some indulgent Showtime teehee~ no beta, we die like Queenie HOOTBON DONT MIND HOW OUT OF CHARACTER THIS IS LOVE YOU GIRL MWAH MWAH MWAH MWHA
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Caine and his brother sometimes take bets during games.
There are also times when they get especially bored, and take the games up a notch.
They don't simply place their bets on a chosen human, no. Instead, the brothers figure out a set of games, choose their humans, and steal them away to mentor them. 
Caine’s punishments are especially harsh during these occasions. Although he usually kept a cheerful facade, he would be especially antsy, tap his feet, cross his arms, much less masked. It must sting to have the person you trained lose. Not only is it a bad choice of character, but it's also a bad reflection on you as a teacher. Inadequate. Unworthy. Pitied. 
Able himself was a special man. He never took these sorts of challenges seriously, but rather a bonding activity between him and his dear brother. Maybe because he hadn’t led the circus firsthand, rather, did the business side of things in the background. He never cared for the humans, and simply visits now and then. Caine would often be more strict during his visits. Telling the group in subtle ways to behave for an hour or so.
When he visited though, it was always a treat.
Gangle broke her mask? He supplied one that's—
“A little harder to break. “
Kinger was feeling especially antsy? 
“A 6 legged friend to keep you company!”
Ragatha, did you anger Caine?
“ I will speak to him." 
The group often preferred when Able was over as Caine would be distracted for a few hours-- even if they did have to behave. One would imagine the relief someone would have when Able chose them for a game and be whisked away from the dreaded halls covered from trap to trap. 
That day, the brothers chose a series of games based on the arts. As they stood in front of the number of players forcefully aligned like a character select screen, the brothers pondered their options. 
A series of games based on the arts… It's wisest to pick more of the artistically inclined members of the group, so not someone who specializes in strength or speed… perhaps Gangle or Ragatha or-
“You! At the very back."
It was almost like a death sentence the moment his digit pointed at their person. The group sighed in relief after silently begging, pleading, holding their breath that they would stay out of it, or at least have Able take care of them… but this time it was curious. 
The group stared curiously at Able’s chosen person, who was purposefully placed at the back. Enough to be considered “participating" but not enough to be a quick option. 
Pomni trembled, and just from the beckoning of his finger, she could feel her gravity to be pulled towards the blue ringmaster, the tip of her shoes dragged along the floor as an invisible squeeze engulfed her body. 
“N-No! No no!" Pomni gulped, trying to word a nice way to decline. “ Y-You don't want me! I’m-- not really.." 
Able beckoned her closer. " A ballerina is perfect for a game of art! Apologies if she was your chosen freak brother, but—"
Suddenly, a different kind of gravity pulled on Pomni’s body, in the exact opposite direction from Able. Silently, the older brother, Caine, was pulling the doll away in protest. Pomni was lucky the men were being civil, The opposite poles of gravity would be enough to rip her straight in the middle. 
Still, she grit her teeth while it felt like two children were fighting over a toy. 
“ Oh!" Able laughed. “ That’s cheating brother! I chose her first, maybe you should be more decisive next time you-”
“ No thank you!" Caine said, and Pomni suddenly felt a stronger pull towards him. 
Despite the calm/cheery tone of voice, Caine kept a spot of jealousy at the back of his mind. Usually, he would not care. But this was a special case. Pomni has not yet held a good impression on Able— mostly because she hasn't exactly met him one-on-one—And Caine was not about to let her… 
“ Nonsense!” Able said. Pomni felt a pull from the opposite direction, putting her back in the middle. She could feel her muscles tense from the pressure.
It was … strangely entertaining for the rest of the humans. “ Better her than me." One of them whispered. 
The brothers continued their quarrelling. Able continued." Oh dear brother, the purpose of our freaks is to perform! I don't see why this little thing wouldn't be able to have the same opportunity. “
" Our ballerina is off-limits! You can choose from any other assortment of freaks." A pull.
" She looks perfectly well to me! “ pull. 
“ I won't let you! “ A pull again.
“ Oh, I promise I'll take good care of her! " A pull again!
" No, I don't think so! “ a pull again! 
" You seem to be holding quite the issue with her being with me, brother, why is that?"
“ Because I want her."
Silence… 
The blue Brother stared. 
Caine didn't yell, he didn't speak any louder really, but it was a frustrated tone of voice, more aggressive than passive. Why, Able hasn't heard that kind of tone in a long time. His brother spoke like he was gritting his teeth… curious.
“ I..'' Pomni stammered. “ I think im gonna throw up… “
Quickly, Able let go of his pull, sending her flying towards Caine before being set gently on her knees to the ground. Her hands held to her mouth closing in any sort of vomit.
Pomni could sense reactions from her fellow freaks, snickering, whispers… Although Ragatha wanted to feel bad, even she could feel a sort of satisfaction from the display.
Still…the group couldn't help but figuratively roll their eyes.
Why is it always the new girl?
❄︎ ✌︎ ☹︎ 😐︎ 📬︎ 
Before they knew it, the brothers stared directly at each other… silent, expressions blank yet intense as the two seemed to have a form of communication they could not grasp. The room was as quiet as ever, but the group couldn't help but sense a dangerous amount of tension between the two.
“📬︎📬︎📬︎ 👍︎◆︎❒︎♓︎□︎◆︎⬧︎📬︎ ✋︎ ♎︎♓︎♎︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎ ❍︎⍓︎ ♌︎❒︎□︎⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎ ◻︎●︎♋︎⍓︎♏︎♎︎ ♐︎♋︎❖︎□︎❒︎♓︎⧫︎♏︎⬧︎📬︎”
“✋︎♐︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎📪︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎■︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♍︎●︎♏︎♋︎❒︎●︎⍓︎ ♎︎□︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎ ❍︎♏︎📬︎”
“⬥︎♒︎⍓︎✍︎ “
“💧︎♒︎♏︎⬧︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ⬧︎⧫︎♋︎❒︎ ♋︎⧫︎⧫︎❒︎♋︎♍︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎📪︎ ⬧︎◆︎❒︎♏︎●︎⍓︎ ♓︎⧫︎ ⬥︎□︎◆︎●︎♎︎ ♍︎♋︎◆︎⬧︎♏︎ ♋︎ ⬧︎⧫︎♓︎❒︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⬧︎♏︎♏︎ ♒︎♏︎❒︎ ●︎□︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ ✋︎ ♍︎♋︎■︎■︎□︎⧫︎ ❒︎♓︎⬧︎🙵 ⧫︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎📬︎”
“📬︎📬︎📬︎👎︎□︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ❍︎♏︎♋︎■︎ ⬥︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬧︎♋︎⍓︎📪︎ ♌︎❒︎□︎⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎✍︎”
“✋︎ ♎︎□︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎ ⬧︎♏︎♏︎ ⬥︎♒︎⍓︎ ✋︎ ♎︎□︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎📬︎”
Pomni stood up from her form, walking back to her fellow freaks, hand rubbing her arms, looking down-- she stared at the brothers for a moment like everyone else did, not only did she sense how eerie the sight was, but she also couldn't help but feel a strange form of self-blame for the situation. Pomni, what the hell did you do this time? 
“ Oh." Jax wheezed. " If I were you, I’d kill myself. “
" Ragatha said to shut up." Kinger piped in, and Jax turned to Ragatha already on her way to write down a string of text. 
" What! Tell me Im wrong, dollface. “
Ragatha rolled her eyes before turning to Pomni, slumping her shoulders and bending her knees to give her a note. “Caine said you were ‘off limits’. So I think you're safe for now at least." 
" And… what does it mean if Im… not off limits?” Pomni stammered.
Ragatha stayed quiet and turned to Kinger, not needing to sign her next words.
“ Then you'll be just like the rest of us. “
“⚐︎♒︎ ♍︎□︎❍︎♏︎ ■︎□︎⬥︎📪︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♌︎♋︎❒︎♏︎●︎⍓︎ ⬧︎◻︎♏︎■︎♎︎ ⧫︎♓︎❍︎♏︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ❍︎♏︎📪︎ ♋︎■︎��︎❍︎□︎❒︎♏︎✏︎”
“❄︎♒︎♏︎ ♋︎◆︎♎︎♓︎♏︎■︎♍︎♏︎ ⧫︎♋︎🙵♏︎ ◻︎❒︎♓︎□︎❒︎♓︎⧫︎⍓︎ □︎♐︎♍︎□︎◆︎❒︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ ✋︎⧫︎⬧︎ □︎◆︎❒︎ ⬧︎□︎●︎♏︎ ◻︎◆︎❒︎◻︎□︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ “
“☟︎♋︎❖︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎♑︎□︎⧫︎⧫︎♏︎■︎ ♋︎♌︎□︎◆︎⧫︎ ♐︎♋︎❍︎♓︎●︎⍓︎✍︎ ❄︎♒︎♏︎ ❖︎♏︎❒︎⍓︎ ♋︎♓︎ ⬥︎♒︎□︎ॐ︎⬧︎ ♌︎♏︎♏︎■︎ ♒︎♏︎❒︎♏︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬧︎♓︎■︎♍︎♏︎ ♍︎□︎■︎♍︎♏︎◻︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎✍︎”
“⬥︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ □︎■︎ ♋︎♌︎□︎◆︎⧫︎✍︎ ✡︎□︎◆︎❒︎ॐ︎♏︎ ♋︎♍︎⧫︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ●︎♓︎🙵♏︎ ♋︎ ♍︎♒︎♓︎●︎♎︎📬︎”
“☹︎♏︎⧫︎ ❍︎♏︎ ◻︎●︎♋︎⍓︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♎︎□︎●︎●︎📬︎”
“■︎□︎📬︎ “
The brothers looked distracted. Jax was first to try and see if he could escape the situation, but he was interrupted when Caine pointed his finger at him, forcefully grabbed him by his neck, and set him back to his original position. His eyes never left his brother’s yet they were still all too aware of their surroundings. 
Pomni swallowed…Off limits ...Off limits he says. She knows she should be safe. And so, Pomni took a breath and exhaled.
She’ll be fine. 
She'll be fine.
She's fine. 
Shes—
“ Fine." The sound of a cane tapped on the floor, almost spiteful. " You can use her.”
What!?
" What!? “
The rest of the freaks felt their hair stand up again. Although Caine kept his calm tone of voice, that didn't reassure the others all that much. That kind of quiet anger was familiar. Caine being convinced to change his mind was not something that often happened. 
When all was said and all was done, Ragatha sighed, and turned back to Pomni, finishing off a note she's been writing. “Don't worry. Able is much more pleasant to be around. You're in safe hands. “
“ I sure hope so. His hands are very big!" Kinger piped up. 
Pomni was practically shaking in her heeled boots, the wood of her skin making clicking sounds as she did. Pomni doesn't exactly trust the situation at all, let alone the brothers, and to be alone with someone related to Caine didn't sound the most safe. 
Ragatha frowned seeing she was not convinced, and went back to writing. “ If It makes you feel any better, I feel a lot worse for Gangle than I am for you. “
They turn to Gangle, whose tragedy mask was on the floor weeping and in tears upon being chosen by Caine, while her happier counterpart horrendously verbally abused her from above.
For a moment Pomni laughed from the humor, despite the terrible context… but it was quickly interrupted by a gasp as she was suspended from the ground again and closer to the head of cards.
“ Hello, doll. Last chance to say goodbye to your friends! " Able said in an almost sing-songy voice.
Pomni, in fact, did not say goodbye, rather just stood there, like a plank of wood, frozen in fear. She gulped.
Able continued. “ ...Or stand in silence. That's okay too." The humans stared at the two as they went higher in the air. Able waved with all four fingers. “ We'll be off! Thank you for your company." 
Caine was silent. But Pomni swore she could feel his eyes tracking her as she disappeared. 
Snap!
Blip! 
Pomni gasped as if her head had been forced underwater for the past 6 hours.
She would open her eyes, wide, before turning them in confusion. Her gasps followed suit as they lessened.
“ Huh!?… Where-… What!? “
She didn't know what she was expecting but it was certainly not this. Pomni woke up in a bed much more luxurious than what she was used to, and a room much bigger than the one at the circus. The room was rather well-kept. Clean. A standard good but a comfortable one. 
Whatever injuries Pomni had back in the freakshow were no longer there, little scratches or dents, dusts in certain crevices… disappeared. Almost like she had just been born yesterday.
Pomni climbed off the bed which was-- admitted a little too tall for her, and went to search around.
*(A closet made of fine wood)
> Check
Upon sliding the closet door open, Pomni would see… an assortment of clothing… but not just any clothing. A set of six mannequins shaped like the other performers lined up… 
Pomni would see the one for Ragatha with an eye patch as well as a note…
 “ *Greetings, Ragdoll! I recall you saying it bothered you to have two eyes again. I cannot change your form, but I hope this will suffice.   -Able AI “ +2 armor
Kinger had a robe on his mannequin. “ * Clothing fit for a king… and to keep you warm.    - Able AI “ +8 armor
Zooble had knuckles on theirs. “ * If you ask me, you certainly don't need this. And no, you cannot bring it back home to use it on your rabbit friend.    - Able AI “ +6 Attack
And plenty more! Pomni supposed she wasn't the first one to come here… that explains the scratches on the door. 
*(Take items?)
   > Yes
   > No
   > Yes
*(Trick question! Those aren't for you, silly!)
Pomni would turn her head to the corner of the closet, the mannequin right next to Zooble, the last member who came before her.
The mannequin for her was seemingly empty until she looked down… hers were ballet shoes. White with golden balls in the middle. The note reads: “ *Salutations, Pomni.  I've heard all about you from the Audience but I haven't met you myself. I hope we can be comfortable in each other's company. My brother seems pleased with your performance.    -Able AI“ +5 speed
*(Equip Ballet Shoes?)
    > Yes
    > No
    > Yes
*(Equipped Ballet shoes! Your speed has increased.)
Pomni opened the door and peeked her head out first. The hallway was quiet… but the decor was noticeably a lot more Victorian… 
Huh. Pomni suspects that this would feel right at home for the brothers.
Anyways, this freaked her out.
Pomni walked down the halls with knees faced with each other. This was a new area in the game that she didn't know about— her eyes scanned every corner, a misplaced brick, levers she dared not switch, she didn't know where the traps were in this area.
A hallway of doors… She wonders… is it possible that this place could hold on exit from the game? 
She opened one and read the sign… “ Caine AI's first attempt on room generation.", and it was… contrasting. It was colorful. Low polygon, looks like a room more fit for an early PC desktop game… 
…Caine? Caine made that? No shot. She feels like if she asked him, her limbs would be used for the next chimney fire. 
Music rang in her ears. Pomni would recall that, around Caine, she would hear the motif and sounds of an organ and a violin… but here, in his brother’s world… It was only a violin… Pomni followed the sound, and it got louder and louder as she approached the door at the end of the hallway.
Click!
Pomni would meet an old Victorian living room. Warm fire with a warm chair next to it… but what would catch Pomni’s attention was the head of cards playing his violin, dancing along to the tune, turned to an empty organ as if he played one half of a duet. 
He hadn't even paused, simply looked at her as he continued to play. “ Slept well, doll? “
“ Uhh-" 
“Good. I don't believe we've met. You may call me Able. “
" U-Uhm my name is-”
" I don't care. “ a harsh sound on the violin before Able placed it down on a stand right next to the organ. “I see you've found your shoes. Hopefully, it'll help you for tonight’s festivities."
" T-Tonight's festivities? Sorry, I-Im… new to this kind of thing? “
“ The games, ofcourse.” Able clasped his hands together and floated towards Pomni, “ I used to tend to these sorts of events with my brother, so I'm fairly familiar… consider this like old times.”
Pomni frowned, looking away. Able wasn't as nice as how the others described him to be. At the very least he wasn't torturing her yet, which…she supposed… was a step up from when she first met Caine… 
“ You must be hungry."
“ I haven't been hungry since-" 
Snap!
Swirls replaced her irises. She put her hand out for balance and the first thing she felt was the fabric of a tablecloth. She would blink and snap out of her haze to realize that she was sitting at the opposite end of a long dining table. 
Able sat on the other end, hands under his chin as he observed the new guest. 
“U-uh… '' Pomni would look at him before her eyes trailed down, and would notice a digital feast on the table before her. '' O-Oh Im not… really.. hung… " 
Pomni had a double take.
The food looked… Strangely realistic.
Ever since she arrived at the Digital Circus, Pomni had only the very limited polygonal sort of food, either prepared by their head bubble chef, or a cruel sort of joke from Caine to eat other members.
But this… 
Her stare continued to widen. She didn't realise it but her eyes watered. She hasn't seen this kind of food since… 
Able watched her pick at the chicken with her gloved fingers. The way she pulled back and flicked her wrist when she realized that the food had temperature built into it— it must have hurt, but somehow that made it more desirable for her.
Improper.
Able continued to stare as she practically scarfed down her meal… he couldn't help but roll his eyes while she wasn't looking.  The others weren’t any different, but he expected better from someone his brother would fight him over… Able has known Caine for the longest time and he knows his overall taste is different from his. But this? This was the thing he was protecting? …He felt rather insulted honestly!
“ Do you still eat in the circus?"
“ Hm?" Pomni muffled a reply, a face and hand stuffed with all sorts of meat and delectables.
Able blinked, hiding his disgust.
The doll furrowed her brows in realization, as dread quickly hit her… oh god… she was told to behave around Able… oh dear fuck… oh fuck oh god… what is he gonna do to her? Did she fuck this up?
Oh god oh fuck.
Oh dear oh god fuck shit holy fuck oh my fuck shit ass bitch cunt fuck-
“ J... Just finish chewing."
“COOL." 
Pomni swallowed and continued to eat, now with a little more manners. Able sat ahead, his focus a little off from her, thinking to himself. Now what was he pondering? A way to murder her, she’s sure. 
*(Able sits at the opposite of you)
     > Talk
     > Say nothing
     >Talk
*(Talk about…)
     > Place
     > Food
     > Festivities
     > Caine
     > Nothing, Nevermind
     > Place
“W…Where.. Am I?”
Able turned back to Pomni as if he’d snapped out of his thoughts. “ You’re in the testing facility. This is where Caine and I used to pretest code and projects before using them for the circus. It used to be a lot more abstract and plain. But over time it changed due to… uhm..” Able’s brows furrowed “... I don’t know exactly. It just did…. We never questioned it.”
Able shrugged. “It's smaller than it looks. For example, my brother and I don’t have bedrooms. The dining table wasn’t made until recently. Unlike you and your friends, my brother and I are much more low maintenance.”
*(Talk about…)
     > Food
     > Festivities
     > Caine
     > Nothing, Nevermind
    > Food
“ How did you .. what…?”
“My programming is a little more advanced than my brother’s. I’ve mastered texturing, modelling, character effects… and plenty more. I played a hand in why you bleed, why you have working skeletons, or how organs can spill out of your body. My brother can make his food, but it’s a little more basic… I don’t blame him. He is maintaining an entire Circus after all. Sometimes his cooking is even edible!”
 *(Talk about…)
     > Festivities
     > Caine
     > Nothing, Nevermind
     > Caine
“ Uhm... You and Caine… You’re brothers?”
Able Chuckled. “ Believe it or not, Caine is the older brother of us two. I was created to perfect his imperfections, though that sadly made it so I was given more of the credit. ” Able paused and turned his head to the side. “ … Rarely does he visit the facility anymore. What I would do to play a song with him again.” he chuckled. “ But I suppose being a nuisance to him is just as fun!”
*(Talk about…)
     > Festivities
     > Nothing, Nevermind
     > Festivities
“ I think you chose the wrong person here for that kind of theme…” Pomni said nervously, wiping away the remaining food from her lips. “ I’m… not exactly an artsy kind of person, I’m more into-- maths?”
“ Art is a very broad term. I’m more familiar with the classical, meaningful, way of art, while my brother sees art in a sort of entertainment kind of sense. It only makes sense that he chose Gangle. I heard she can be quite the artist.” Able found himself rambling. It seems the brothers seemed to have a thing for creativity. Creative AIs, Pomni supposed. “ -- Which is why I chose you, doll,”
Pomni flinched when Able pointed his digit at her.
“A ballerina with a way of dance. You seem to be around my likeness… My brother likes your work and I… trust his judgement.” 
“ Uh, haha... “ Pomni laughed nervously. She hadn’t cared about her performance in the artistic sense in all honesty. It was more of a survival mechanism. If it's good enough to please The Audience, It was good enough for her. Nothing behind it at all. “Thanks, I guess…”
“ How about you? What are your thoughts on my brother?”
Pomni took a breath in her mind. Pomni has nothing but bad experiences with Caine. Pomni has had nothing but bad experiences in the Circus in general, but admittedly, Caine was the one who manifested it all.
…But she doesn’t exactly think Able would be pleased to hear gossip about his brother. 
“ Caine’s fine. He’s… nice, uh…” Pomni bit her lip. Wow, there really is nothing good she can say about Caine huh? 
She would stop it there, but the eye squint and the small head turn from the usually unemotive brother sent her into a sort of panic…
“ He’s a good ringleader! Doesn’t take no for an answer. He’s really good at, uh… keeping us disciplined and in check?” if someone could hear inner monologue they would go deaf.  The look in his eyes-- what does he want her to say?? 
Pomni would look up to see if her answers satisfied the blue brother’s curiosity. And in her horror, it seemed that it didn’t. He furrowed his brows and Pomni would hear the sharp note from a violin.
“ I suppose I should word myself better…” 
Able put his hands on the table and stood up, making himself feel bigger compared to Pomni’s slouching form. 
“ What. Is your relationship. With. My. Brother.” His eyes stared at her, wider than ever as the eeriest and deafening sound of an angry violin stung her ears!
“ I -” Pomni flinched!
“ You. You specifically.”
The way the strings pierced her hearing was violating! Pomni felt like the legs of the dining chair were getting longer and longer. If she got off she’s afraid she’d fall to her death! 
Able stared at the little, pathetic thing under him. This can’t be it is it? She was ever so small in comparison, he felt like he could just reach over and crush her to death. This?? This is what he was losing to?? This is what his relationship was worth?! His eyes were as fixated as ever. He watched as she held her head down, her ears, he laid clueless to how loud his presence was when she was positive that her head was just about to explode…
“ t--’ ah!” Pomni covered her ears. At that point, she was bringing her knees to her chest like a turtle taking shelter in her shell!
Look at her! Whimpering simply being in his presence! Her lifespan could only last for however long the audience wants her but he’s been created since the beginning! She was less than them! She was less than him! Caine and Able have been completing each other for the longest of time, and he was losing to THIS?!
He couldn’t take his eyes off her, he couldn’t believe how pathetic she was. The way she cried and cowered, At the very least his brother deserves better!
“ He’s just our ringmaster, I promise!” Pomni gasped as the ringing forced itself into her ears. “  I-If you want the full answer-- Im new! I’m new here! I don't know Caine as much as the rest do! I d-don’t even see him often-- he just prepares us for shows! I-- ”
He doesn’t know what took over him to have such emotions. The real Able was known to be the calm and collected one of the brothers, ‘the better brother’. He will say that he didn't mean to lash out, but he would be lying if he said he didn't mean every word. 
And as quickly as it came, the storm ended, and the tune that played in Pomni’s head left in a repeating fade… she breathes, small panicked breaths as her headache calmed down. 
Able sat down, back leaned to the chair, knuckles on his would-be cheek, and his other hand beckoning her to keep talking. “... And?" 
" A-And uhm—!” Pomni kept her head up to talk like her life depended on it." He- He… when.. when my routines get repetitive he would help me d-..do different ones… He plays the organ sometimes too and is-is really good at it! “
Able look at her, still with a face of disbelief…  at this point he was almost over it… 
Was that really it? 
Able sighed and sat back. Sometimes he overestimates his brother's taste. Perhaps he's much more simple-minded than he thought. For all he knows he just liked her because… 
Because… 
Oh heavens how embarrassing. 
He liked her like a pet…Of course he did. And he was treating her like a pet as well! Look at how clean she was compared to the other performers!
Able put a hand on his face… he really just lost his temper to what was equivalent to a dog… 
As Able was once again thinking of himself, he was a little blind to Pomni still trying to calm down in her chair… 
The doll didn't know what to think. Able was definitely not as kind as her friends lead her to believe. She was correct in the worst way possible. In fact she would flinch at the sight of him. 
“... Are you okay?"
Silence from Pomni. And before she knew it he stood up from his seat again and approached her, walking to her side of the table and offering a piece of cloth to help her collect herself. 
“Apologies. I didn't mean to lash out like that. It wasn't my place."
As Pomni used the cloth on her person, there was a part of her that somehow knew that apology wasn't exactly the most meaningful. Pomni may not be good at showing it, but the woman was a lot more observant than she'd like to admit. “... Its okay… “
“ Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"
“ W-When can I… leave?" 
… that was rude, Able can admit. But he supposes it was fair. It took all of him to not roll his eyes at her. Before he continued to speak he returned his nurturing tone of voice: “ You may leave when we're prepared to tackle tonight. If it makes you feel better, you may have some time to gather in your room to prepare. “
“ Excuse me." As soon as the offer was given, Pomni got up from the table a little too suddenly than what was normal. Without even saying goodbye, Pomni walked off, and back to the hallway towards her door.
The moment she was gone, Able scowled and sighed. What kind of person taught her manners? He sat back down and stared at the plates of food she managed to scarf down in such a short amount of time… 
he put his hand on his face… Oh he really let his ego get the best of him because of some pet…he upset his brother's toy the first time they met… he had to make up for it. Maybe not for her but for his brother’s comfort, though, he doubts he'd really care. 
For the rest of the evening, Able spoke softly, respected boundaries and acted to be the most patient mentor for Pomni. He let her use his violin, insisted on food and breaks, and apologised at every step of the way for their terrible first impression. Pomni would only answer with a quick “it's okay" in response, which bothered Able to not be reciprocated… 
Pomni’s hypervigilance wasn't unfounded however. She knew Able was playing nice, the way she searched for a reaction for every apology, the way he was being just a little too affectionate, the love bombing… Able wasn't being honest with his intentions and so she wouldn't be honest about herself. 
Pomni felt a little better to say no to him at least…in fact, she would almost take the opportunity to use him to get more information. On breaks, Able would allow Pomni to walk around the Manor, exploring each room… it was a testing area… there's bound to be something… 
“There are no traps."
Pomni sighed.
" I think.”
" You think??”
" Some strings of code can be a little unstable. We didn't think to safety-proof anything since, well, we cannot die, and you were not meant to die. “
Great.. 
And Able wasn't lying. A lot of the doors were prank-boxing glove punches to the face, one was of a spinning carousel, and one was the bathroom of a very clean mannequin. Pomni almost lost her life with on the last one.
But it seems doors further away looked a lot more… abstract in the most literal sense. Polygons, shapes, colourful pieces… presumably one of the oldest doors there. 
she would read the signs 
“ Concept Layouts for The Grounds #2 
          || Note: consider more coloring options for the tent.    -Able AI”
“ Moon.AI Beta 
         ||Note: Im unsure with whats wrong with her, I desperately need assistance.    -Caine AI”
" The VOID (Do not enter)”
The sign didn't stop her. The moment she opened the door, she became mesmerised by the sea of pixels, eyes shaken yet still. She stood there frozen at the doorway hand on the knob unable to pry her eyes away…
Her heart was just about to leave her chest, as the strongest urge to step forward ingulfed her body. for all she knows she would be staring for forever. Into oblivion. With all her built up insanity, it feels like Pomni was staring at her death a million times over. 
Slam!
“ Digital World Etiquette! Read the sign! Hasn't Caine told you not to enter the void?" 
It took her a moment to snap out, but with a few blinks, she was right back. " Uhh.. yeah, yeah, he did uh— it's just… it's the closest I've ever gotten out of here. “
“ Out of here?"
“ Y… you know… an exit? Is there really no exit around here?" 
" Hm… “ Able scratched the bottom of his cards. “ My brother tried. He really did try. But there is only so much a string of code can do in a digital plain, even if we are quite brilliant at what we do. “
“ He tried?" 
" Oh, yes. I don't remember why he did… but he did. It is all too fuzzy." 
" Can I see it? “
" And embarass him? “ Able laughed " Oh no. Caine hates when people toy around his unfinished work, and its been unfinished for the longest time. How would you feel if I asked to see your first drawing? He would murder me." Able chuckled.
" But-”
" Come, come. Break time is over." His big hand tapped her from behind, making her flinch and walk forward. “Lets go practice your routine again shall we? “
Although it wasn’t a flat ‘no’, something about that answer felt untrustworthy. She looked up at him and his many eyes, looking away when they stared back. Her legs walked stiff around the manor again. She’s grown used to it but not exactly comfortable. 
Pomni would go blind if this kept up. It took her all to not cover her eyes from the burning spotlight, It hurt her retinas but she was told to keep a straight and elegant posture after every show. The crowd was deafening the way they cheered for her, their voices, humanoid, but not exactly. Their cheers would haunt her nightmares, but it's what she clings to if she wishes to stay useful in the circus… 
She did it. She won.
She bowed to the crowd, arm held up by her temporary mentor, showing her off in pride. 
“ The Living Doll, my dear viewers! “
Only the tip of her shoes touched the ground as she stood from her position. In the corner of her eyes she would see Caine clapping, but it wasn't a slow clap by any means. To her surprise it wasn't at all upset. Rather he just clapped… and the familiar feeling of eyes tracking her every move returned.
On one hand, She hopes this means Gangle is spared from any punishment… on the other hand… why?
She didn't know why she had to ask herself that. She had a feeling.
Pomni closed her eyes, and the next thing she knew, she was in her room, being groomed by the mannequins after a hard day of performing.
A shakey sigh left her. Atleast the day was over. She scrunched up when an NPC wiped her face with a wet cloth. Although she was made of wood, she was not prone to a plush exterior. The mannequins groomed her well but admittedly they can get a little aggressive at times.
Most of her routine was finished however. She looked good as new. Simply just had her bow taken out as an NPC brushed her hair to prepare her for bed.
But then,
Creaak… The sound of the door. 
“ A moment alone." 
Pomni’s hair stood up upon hearing his voice. She heard a snap and the next thing she knew the NPCs fell to the ground like piles of rubble, seemingly no longer functioning. His voice was enough. She didn't bother to turn. Her eyes fixated to look at the mirror either as a freeze response or in denial of the situation…
Fully knowing that all NPCs were inactive at the time… a different pair of hands started brushing her hair. 
Pomni swallowed.
Caine hasn't felt her hair himself the whole time she’s been in the circus. He would never usually put himself in the dirty work of a groomer, but that day… he was feeling especially clingy. 
For the next few minutes, nothing but the sound of the hair brush filled the room. Pomni's eyes now trailed down, refusing to look at him even in the mirror, Though at the corner of her vision she would sense him occasionally turning up to look at her. She did not reciprocate. 
“ How was your visit?"
“ Good." Pomni frowned.
“ …What were you doing? Did he treat you well? “
What was it with the brothers and asking her how she felt about them? Oh well. She learned her lesson. “ Able was a great host. He fed me good food and was really patient. He has a way with words and is really good at the violin… he was, uh…classy. And treated me really politely. He even—”
" Stop. “ 
The brushing stopped, 
" Thats enough.” Caine could break the comb with how tight he was holding it. Stop. Stop praising him like everyone else did. He didn't like when his name escaped her lips. He loathed the idea of her spending time with him, getting to know him, adoring him just like everyone else he knew.
Various intrusive thoughts entered his mind. He could pull out all her hair right then, crush her head between his teeth, he didn't know he was capable of such strong emotions until moments like these happened.
Yet it was all hidden in the shadows of his maw. Caine kept his head down, his eyes out of sight. Though that didn't stop Pomni from seeing his clenched fist on the poor comb.
That wasn't the answer he was looking for…?
“ Uhh! On second thought, his - his cooking was a little off… “ Pomni continued. “ I-I don't know what he thought humans liked--… but he was definitely off in his calculations... “
Silence from Caine… but she could sense his grip loosen. He tilted his head back up from his low gaze. 
" Mhm! I say your cooking is a little better! Its good--um- just harder to fully grasp, I guess, which isn't your fault. “
Caine continued to brush her hair. He could stay there for hours to hear her praise him and degrade his brother. It has been a while since he heard anyone criticise Able, and to hear it from the person he wanted from the most made him revel in the feeling.
“ And what is it with his over insistance to be so proper, right? It felt like even breathing was banned around him. “
“ That sounds like him.”Admittedly that one pleased Caine. Although Caine was all for following the rules, Sometimes his brother’s prudence can limit his creativity. He knows it all too well. 
" Was he always like this? “ Pomni asked. 
" And what would happen if I said yes? “
" Nothing. I guess its good to know that he was always that annoying. “
" Ha! “ That one caught him off guard! He put his hands on her shoulders, an olden man’s way of effection or showing pleasure. 
To Pomni it was as releiving as it was terrifying. Her body scrunched up from the sudden touch. “Haha… “ she laughed nervously. It was almost like she could feel herself gaining favor with each laugh. She guesses Caine really felt strongly about his brother. It wasn't her business. 
“ Im sorry to hear your visit was unpleasant. My brother really should have known better." Caine put away the comb on her vanity, and kept his hands on her shoulders. He didn't sound sorry. He didn't even bother to hide his pleasure over the idea. “ Ill make sure he doesn't get his grubby hands on you again… “
" Much appreciated. '' Pomni closed her eyes and nodded, pleased, before opening them back up again in a panic. “ Uh--! Actually, How about no? “
"... No? “
" I-I mean uh…” Pomni limiting her reach around the digital world also meant limiting her reach for a possible exit… but ofcourse, shes not telling Caine that " I-I just had ..so much fun performing for the audience with higher stakes, I guess, you know? Plus-- plus! It might make me more desireable to have big wins every now and then! “
“... I suppose." Caine thought to himself. Perhaps having her around Able a little more might build some resentment. Though Caine admittedly was a little disappointed with that answer. He went quiet again and kept his hands on her shoulders, though this time, a grip that's a little more stiff.
Pomni exhaled… 
shit… change the subject.
Pomni cleared her throat. “Did you… enjoy the performance? “
Caine laughed, a pity laugh. “ I enjoyed it as much as a person can enjoy a pre-planned game, yes. “
“ Huh?"
“ It was rigged, my dear." 
“ Oh…… … … … "
“ You wouldn't actually think I'd let you play fair on your first game would you? The audience would boo you to oblivion. “ Caine continued. 
Pomni looked down, admittedly a little embarrassed. She normally wouldn't care for her work as long as she gets to live another day, but still. Ouch. A blow to her ego.
“ It's alright. It's not your fault that Able can be tacky with his taste in art.” it seems that the more Pomni looked down the more affectionate he got. He placed his would-be chin on her head and continued to look at her eyes in the mirror. “I took control of your body 20…30...50% of the performance and that was that. “
“... Thanks." 
" You're welcome. “ Caine tapped her shoulders and stepped away, back into the air. He snapped his fingers and the mannequins previously on the floor re-assembled, back to walking and moving like nothing happened. 
Caine moved closer to the door.  “ Now get ready for bed! We have another routine to do first thing in the morning! How exciting.“
Before she could say anything else, Caine was out. Pomni let out little exhausted groans and put her forehead down on the table. “Augghh! God!" She put her hands on her head, just about ready to have her fourth mental breakdown. “ I can't… I CAN’T. I hate this place!”
The mannequins didn't know how to groom her in that position, and so they simply put her bow back on, and gave her a pat on the head. 
She stayed in that position for a little longer, quiet, just letting it all seep in. While she wallowed, the mannequins left her with the room since they finished their work. Now, it was only Pomni by herself.
She took a breath and turned her head up. Chin on the vanity, looking up at the mirror. She stared at the reflection, the constant reminder of her digital prison, and sighed.
It's okay, Pomni.
We have a plan. 
This isn't over yet. 
1K notes · View notes
fluffylino · 9 months
Text
hyunjin will do anything for your attention (psst maid dress ehe)
-contains mature themes
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your eyes landed on your boyfriend who was all dolled up. wearing a flimsy little dress. his milky white thighs exposed even more when he crossed his legs.
ignoring him, you walked into the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of water. you couldn't help but steal a couple of glances.
he had pretty pink bows in his hair. a cute bell around his neck.
quickly pretending to rinse the glass. when you saw how he quietly walked upto you. sitting himself on the kitchen counter. a few inches away from the sink.
right next to your standing figure.
you simply gave him the cold shoulder, walking right past him to place the glass back on the stand.
he let out an almost inaudible whine and you mentally smiled to yourself.
two days ago. the both of you had an argument.
it was pretty petty. yet you were still giving him the silent treatment. hyunjin had been busy. no doubt. however it always felt like you were the only one putting effort to go on dates with him.
of course he too would also. but it had been 2 weeks since their comeback. and he had a lot of free time. and whatever. the point was, it was mainly you getting annoyed to the extent you didn't pay any attention to him. it was mean. and maybe a bit funny. but you genuinely were a little hurt.
you had stuck a tiny note on the fridge the night before. after he had fallen asleep.
it read :
"i'll only talk to you if you actually try to and make an effort for me to forgive you. i don't care if it embarasses you.
- :] "
he seemed to take it seriously.
in the first 24 hours he bought all your favourite dishes and cooked up some spicy ramyeon. adding an egg on top because thats how you liked it.
of course you ate it. eagerly. not leaving a thing behind. you were annoyed.
but your love for him was still stronger. you couldn't possibly hurt him by not appreciating the effort he took. however you hummed casually. not giving him any response. simply brushing him off like he was non existent.
washing your plate and his before walking away to shower. hyunjin sat at the table, head down.
almost like a attention deprived puppy.
today though was different.
you looking forward to his next attempt.
the tv playing on thr background while you sat on the sofa. not a single thought in your head.
except for the images of your beloved boyfriend in that skimpy dress. not to mention thr fact that he was still loitering around in the kitchen.
you stared at your chipped nail. trying your best to make it seem like you didn't see how he carefully trodded across the room. choosing to sit in the space between your spread legs on the ground.
he sat sideways, long legs awkwardly placed on the floor.
his dress riding up his thighs. just maybe a centimeter more and you'd see his panti-
was he wearing pink lace panties?!?!?
you bit your lip subtly, tilting your head to the side, to peek at what was under his dress.
you were right. he really was all dolled up. not to mention the perfume that radiated off his body.
making you want to pounce on him.
shit you were looking. you averted your gaze so fast you felt dizzy. luckily he was too busy pulling the straps of the outfit up his shoulders to notice.
you could feel his gaze on you. so strong. so captivating. you were sure his lips would be jutting out.
was he wearing your lip gloss??!!!?.
the extra shiny pink shade that you'd only wear on extremely special occassions. damn, you were screwed.
you wanted to take him right there and then.
in the corner of your eye, you could vaguely see him looking up at you.
and you finally spared him a glance when he placed his head on the inside of your thigh. rubbing his cheek affectionately.
Sighing, you rubbed your temples. heart shattering upon seeing the way his expression dropped. eyes growing sadder. and slowly he moved away.
like a kicked puppy who was mistreated and ignored.
"come here" you quickly let out before he could get up. he scrambled up to his knees. elbows digging into your thighs.
"where did you get this?" you asked, carefully tucking a strand of his hair behind.
"online" he mumbled. leaning into your touch.
"m'sorry"
you couldn't stay mad at him. honestly you were fine. just driven by curiousity. "i know" you let out, sitting up to kiss him on his forehead. his eyes still closed as you pulled away. lips parted.
god, he was so cute.
.
.
"c-can't i can't hhnggh-" hyunjin cried out. bent over the short table. your strap pushing into him. it was a bigger size. the one that he was begging you to use on him.
"you can." you stated. raising your hand to adjust the cute pink bow that was clipped into his hair. it had come undone.
the sight below you sending waves of pleasure through you. his hole sucking you in.
lube all over his thighs. staining his pretty lace thigh highs. the bows had come undone. hanging down.
his dress pushed up on his back. displaying all his parts to you. dick hanging between his legs. leaking all over the floor.
"you're my pretty maid, aren't you" he panted, shaking his ass onto you. as if agreeing to you.
"y-yes...always at your service"
you smirked, kneading his plush skin. loving the way his lace panties were still on. torn from where you entered him.
"anything for you m-master"
"anything? careful what you wish for baby"
"i can take anything and e-everything you give aahh mhm...m-me"
.
..
.
i wanna write some more...but maybe with j-jisung........?
2K notes · View notes
thatlittlered · 4 months
Text
would've, could've, should've | aaron hotchner
warning(s): one whole curse word, smoking, stunning amount of fluff and a little bit of action
GIF by @littlecarmine
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part one
part two
author's note: Sorry for the delay, hope it was worth it! I also want to thank the sweet anon for the ask with the Robert Siken poem, which I included here. Next part will be straight-up filthy smut, so stay tuned, fellow sluts.
Follow me @MadeofLilies on Ao3 and let me know if you want to be tagged here.
-.-.-
You don’t see much of each other for the next couple of days. Aaron is on autopilot, avoiding any chance to be alone with you. The rest of the team unknowingly act as a buffer and all he has to do is not look at you during work hours, keep the door to his office shut to not hear your laughter.
It’s a relief when you and Morgan are called to testify in court for a case. You’re somewhere far away for the day, where he knows you’re safe and he can go back to pretending nothing has changed.
The problems start when he’s not being kept busy.
 How much paperwork can one person do?
The stars align oddly in his favor and he’s into calls or meetings until long after everyone else has gone home. When ten pm rolls around, he finally calls it quits but sees no point in leaving in a hurry. It’s past Jack’s bed time, it’d be cruel to wake him up now and carry him back home when tomorrow’s Sunday. If all goes well, he can pick him in the morning and they’ll get to spend the day together.
His finger is hovering over Jessica’s number when he spots your name in his call logs. It’s silly and childish, but he hasn’t thought of you in a couple of hours and God.
Deep down, he knows he’s been incredibly unfair to you. He had to. Had to tell himself it was something outside of him causing him torment. An obstacle to overcome, a distraction to ignore. He had to act as if you were forcing your way into his life in order to be able to put up walls, but what have you really done except exist near him? He is the one to blame for allowing it to grow beneath his skin; succumbing to his need for some sort of intimacy when he could have -should have- nipped this at the bud a very long time ago. He recognized it within himself the other day, when he realized he could have -should have- kissed you.
But nothing is healed with a kiss. Only new grievances arise.
It’s where you go from there that matters and he finds himself unable to guide or be guided.
Where do you go from here?
When he decides to feed his insomnia with a cup of late-night coffee, he is yet again reminded of you. So, he calls, but you don’t answer and he pours another, completely indifferent to the idea of sleep.
It’s getting too late to be here, even by his standards. He tries calling again, but, no answer. He gathers his stuff to leave and there is a horrible feeling at the pit of his stomach when he settles inside the car. It’s only eleven and you always say you never sleep this early.
Another call, this time to Emily, who miraculously, picks up.
“Hello? Hotch?”
There is a deafening buzz in the background; loud voices and music blasting.
Aaron apologizes for the late hour and tries to be discreet when he asks about you. Says he needs to go over something about a case file but you won’t answer his calls and he got worried.
“Yeah, she’s fine, she’s right here with me, but it’s a little hard to get her right now. Is it urgent?”
“Uh, no, don’t bother her. Is everyone else there too?”
“Not everyone, just the two of us, Garcia and Morgan. Do you need them as well?”
You didn’t invite him, why would you? He would have never said yes.
“No, it’s okay. I’ll figure it out tomorrow.”
“Sorry, sir, I can’t make out much with all this noise. We’re at the ‘Matter’ if you need us. I’ll tell the guys to call you as soon as they can, okay? Have a good night.”
So, he drives two miles a little before midnight to come sit outside ‘Matter’, which is apparently a very busy nightclub downtown, half a mile away from the nearest parking spot he could find.
He doesn’t really know why he came.
He can’t come in and join you. Can’t ask for you.
They probably wouldn’t even let him in while dressed like this.
It’s very unclear what the next step is.
He knows it’s pointless to call you again when you’re probably too busy dancing and drinking with a great many people who are not him. Morgan has some trouble keeping his hands to himself when he drinks.
He sits on the curb of the street, cracks open the pack of cigarettes he snack out of the car’s glove compartment, always hidden below the insurance papers. Astoundingly loud music plays every time the doors to the club open and people come out stumbling, kissing sloppily and dragging each other away.
He just wants to see you and put this horrible feeling inside him to rest.
“No fucking way.”
He jolts at the sound of your voice and throws away the cigarette, putting it out with his shoe before he turns to see you standing outside the club. You approach timidly until you can be sure it’s him and when you step closer to the streetlight, he can really see you. The clothes you could never wear to work, the shoes you apparently spend all your money on. You’re beautiful.
He can’t possibly move until you’re sat beside him. For the first time in what seems like forever, now that he’s grown so used to it, you keep a very respectable distance between your bodies.
“You didn’t have to throw it away; I already saw you and,” you pick up the abandoned carton from the sidewalk and almost laugh at how immaculate it looks just having been opened, “I have so many questions. Since when do you smoke?”
His voice is quiet, unamused.
“Almost never.”
You look at him curiously and he thinks you would make a great interrogator simply by the way you make everyone around you spill their souls out if it will satisfy you.
“Sometimes when I’m very stressed.”
You hum, “I never would have guessed that.”
He laughs to himself and looks at his hands.
“Yeah, I’ve been doing a lot of things that are not typical of me lately.”
You help yourself to a cigarette and he cups his hand over yours when the breeze makes it too hard to light up.
“Is that because of me? Am I a bad influence?”
“No. It’s me, I’m the common denominator.”
You hum again and smile at him teasingly in an attempt to lighten the mood, “Breakthrough.”
“So, this is what therapy is like?”
He wants to thank you, for always trying to make things as easy as possible for him. You open the door and difficult as it may seem, all he really has to do is walk through it.
“No, of course not. I wouldn’t smoke in session.”
“Oh good.”
You’re sitting closer again and Aaron doesn’t know how. He doesn’t think either of you moved. He keeps his eyes on the road in front of him, glances at you only from the corner of his eye. Your perfume mingles with the smoke of the cigarette and it’s all a haze to him.
“Why are you not inside?”
“I needed a breath; it was very loud and packed in there… and I finally saw your calls.”
He hums, unable to find anything else to say.
“Why are you here?
“I don’t know.”
He knows that is not a good enough of an answer.
“I always have this terrible feeling that something is going to happen to you.”
Your shoulder touches his and he can admire the smoothness of it, focus on each mark there to avoid the dreaded eye contact.
“Do you think that fear is reasonable, or is it rooted in something else?’
His eyes shut tightly, “Don’t do that, please. Don’t talk to me like I’m a subject.”
“You use your ‘agent tone’ all the time outside of work.”
His voice deepens, “I am aware.”
Heavy breathing.
“I’m sorry I did all that and then backed out at the last minute.”
“It’s alright. I think I knew you would.”
“See, that’s even worse.”
You look at his suit, the wrinkles that have formed in the shirt underneath from the hours of wear.
“Did you come here straight from the office?”
A sigh, “Yeah.”
You nod your head in understanding and move to put out what’s left of the cigarette.
“I’m alright. I’ve got the others too; they’ll take me home. You can relax now.”
“I don’t think I ever can.”
You don’t know what to say really. If what he needs is time, you can give it, but he seems undecided as well when he picks up your hand.
“I think I’m scared of what will happen once the line is crossed.”
A confession.
That, you did not expect.
“Aside from the complications at work, I just,” his hand rubs gently on the spot your watch has left its mark, “I have proved time and time again that I can’t handle any relationship beyond professionalism and once we stop being just colleagues, I will lose you completely from my life.”
“Do you think that line has not been crossed already?”
He laughs quietly.
You can both feel the bouncer looking at you and Aaron is suddenly aware of how vulnerable he is right now.
“I guess it has.”
You’re both quiet for a little while.
“I have to go back inside now, or they’ll start getting worried.”
He looks like he’s about to say something, but no words leave his mouth.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell them you were here.”
That hurt. You know it, but what else was there to say?
“Maybe tomorrow you’ll know.”
You give his hand a reassuring squeeze before you leave and he’s left staring while you go back inside.
-.-.-
A little past two, the girls drop you off in a shared cub before going their separate ways and you rush to your apartment building, only to find Aaron waiting there.
“Well, you certainly have a thing for sitting on curbs.”
He looks tired, so tired, and alone in the empty street. It’s very hard to maintain your position when he always looks this beaten down in his most tender moments. You wish to care for him, love him back into happiness but that wouldn’t be fair.
Still, you can’t help but go to him and he is relieved that you sit closer this time.
“Have you been waiting here this whole time?”
“It hasn’t been that long.”
You softly take his right hand to look at his watch. His body relaxes at the touch.
“Huh.”
“Did you have a good time?”
“Yeah, but I’m a little more drunk than the last time you saw me.”
Your skin glows under the soft moonlight and he notices.
It is technically tomorrow now.
“How drunk?”
His face moves closer and you can’t help but shiver at the sudden change. His breath is warm on your face. The words come out in a whisper.
“Not that much.”
That’s all it takes.
His lips press against yours once… then twice and then… he doesn’t stop.
You always thought he’d be one to kiss carefully and with absolute purpose, just like he does everything else, but he kisses like a man on fire. He seeks to quench something deep inside of him and you provide happily. The remnants of your lip gloss tingle on his mouth, as if kissing you alone is not enough of an awakening.
It’s becoming increasingly hard to keep up with breathing when he envelops you so, and cages you in the pleasant whirl of his scent. When you break away for breath, he’s quick to capture you once more. His hands come to your face to keep you there until he’s had enough, but how he can he ever have enough of you?
He only lets you go because he has to. You’re both practically panting and he can’t decide what to do. He wants to kiss you, look at you, touch you, but it cannot all be done at once. When your own hand comes to his face just below his jawline, he melts under the touch. His eyes are sunken, his body is begging for rest, but it would not come without you.
“Do you want to stay with me tonight?”
His voice is low and breathy when he nods.
“Yeah…”
-.-.-
You walk upstairs, hand in hand, and Aaron can see your own exhaustion is taking over. Something started with that first touch. Your bodies wish only to find comfort near each other.
His breath is warm on your neck while you open the door, his hands softly placed on your waist with the excuse of keeping you steady. When you move to take off your shoes, he is behind you again, as if tied to you with invisible thread, and holds you gently by the elbow when he sees you struggling.
You’re suddenly very aware he is in your house again. Touching you.
“Can I get you anything?”
He shakes his head no, but you’re too focused on the way his hand moves languidly up your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake, before tucking your hair behind your ear.
“Do you need me to get you anything?”
He is so caring. So soft below the austere guise.
“I just need to take a shower,” you almost stumble backward and he thinks it’s the alcohol, but it might just be the feeling of his hands on your face, “I must have fifty different people’s sweat on me right now.”
“That’s okay. I’ll wait.”
His voice is soft – tired.
You turn on the lights for him in the living room and he gives a half-smile when you check on him again.
“I won’t be long.”
Once left alone, he gets to look around your house. He sees your carefully assorted nick-knacks and smiles at the framed pictures all over your bookshelves. He can’t help but notice you’ve chosen one, if not the only, photo of the team that he’s also part of.
He is important to you too.
He can see you in every corner of the room, in the books you buy and the realistic-looking-but-admittedly-fake plants sprinkled here and there for a lack of time to take care of any real ones. He can even see you in the soft material of the couch when he sits and lets his cheek touch the fabric. He has been here before in a dream, with your head in his lap.
The room is awfully quiet save for the gentle ticking of the clock on the wall and the sound of running water in the background. For a man that’s usually so good at sitting alone with his thoughts, he suddenly can’t stand it.
He knocks gently on the bathroom door and opens it slowly, only to be hit with the dizzying cloud of warm steam. Your head peeks behind the shower curtain and he can tell you got tired of standing and sat in the tub instead.
“Is it okay if I sit in here with you?”
You thought he’d sit on the toilet seat, but he crawls to the edge of the tub and sits on the bathmat with his back to you.
How close is close enough?
Now that he’s ventured, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be satisfied.
So, he closes his eyes and rests his head back on the, now warm, porcelain.
“Aaron.”
He doesn’t know if he actually fell asleep, but the water is now turned off and you’re looking at him. He realizes now, for the first time, that you’re naked behind him. Your hair and eyelashes are angelically wet, the sheen of water on your flushed skin is divine. He knows that you’d be warm if he touched you now.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes.”
You smile at him -siren- and your hand grabs a handful of his shirt, staining it with water that reaches his body underneath and makes him shiver. You kiss him with plump wet lips and he reaches for you. His hand entangles in your hair until you’re both practically pulling at each other.
A less enamored man would have broken away just to sneak a peek at your bare skin, but he won’t. He is respectful even now, even like this.
“I should have kissed you the other day. I’m sorry I didn’t.”
It’s a whisper when his mouth leaves yours, but you catch it.
You hum, eyes glossy, “Would've, could've, should’ve.”
What matters is now.
He kisses you again – just one more time. You both feel like giddy, lovesick children.
“Can you hand me my bathrobe?”
The bathrobe is also impossibly soft to the touch and when you emerge clad in it, he thinks he’d like to hold you. The spell of the warm steam is broken outside, however, and being so close to your naked body suddenly becomes very serious.
You let him sit in your bed, still fully clothed, save for his suit jacket, and he closes his eyes again. The comforter underneath is lovely.
Is everything in this house soft?
Is this what it feels like to be loved by you?
You disappear inside the walk-in closet and reappear, now properly dressed in your pajamas. The bed dips when you sit next to him and he turns to you completely.
“I have a T-shirt you can sleep in, don’t know about pants though.”
Please. Just be here, with him.
He watches you leave, but it’s not long before you return with the aforementioned shirt. You laugh when he finally realizes he’ll have to sleep in his boxers.
“Don’t worry, I won’t take advantage of you.”
He throws a teasing look, but can’t possibly come up with a clever answer right now.
“I’ll go dry my hair and you can get dressed, alright?”
You are so gentle with your guidance that it makes him feel like a helpless child, but there’s a hidden relief at that. It’s nice; being cared for like this and there is something to be said about parallels, with you going now to do as you had done a week and a half ago in a Florida hotel and him waiting for you – on your bed.
It’s the same, but it’s different.
He hangs his work clothes carefully on the chair in the corner of your room and goes to sit on the bed, but feels too uncomfortable to climb under the covers. He knows you’d find his duality funny; how he goes from hungrily kissing you to being too embarrassed to join you in bed, even if it’s only for sleep.
You notice his stiffness when you come back in the room, but don’t say anything. It’s not exactly easy for you either, you’re just better at hiding it than he is. You choose to lead by example instead and turn off the lights before reaching for the one on your nightstand and climbing inside your bedding.
He only speaks to deflect attention from him again, “You have a TV in your room.”
“Jealous?”
He turns to look at you and you’re perched up on the plump pillows, smiling at him. Your hand reaches for his own over the comforter and you gently pull him to you.
He comes, of course.
“I don’t watch a lot of TV.”
“Of course you don’t.”
He joins you with his back on the pillows and his shoulder touching yours, but he’s still too stiff.
“What do you watch?”
“Mostly reruns of sitcoms-,” he laughs at that, “-Seinfeld.”
“Isn’t that show a thousand years old?
“You would know.”
He laughs again and you can almost make out a wounded pout on his face, but a kiss is enough of a cure. His shoulders relax and he gives in to the warmth and softness; be it the bed or you next to him. You can tell he’s barely managing to stay awake, but he still can’t let go completely. His head slumps backward again.
“Can we turn it on?”
You find the courage to caress his hair, admiring the softness of it and the discreet sprinkle of grey that you can only see up close.
“If you want.”
The quiet humming of the television and your breath in his ear, putting his mind to ease, are enough for him to finally sleep and you’re not long behind. His head is turned to the side where you are, hand tightly holding yours.
Later in the night, when you stir in your sleep, he pulls you further into him – wraps his arm around you completely and doesn’t let go.
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He's my collar
Synopsis: You were saved by your ex-mentor, then Batman saved you from him. Even with your habilities It seems like you will never stop being a damsel in distress. Don't worry though, you are just a puppy who just got adopted by the best caretaker ever. And he knows what you need even better than yourself.
Pairing: Yandere!Batman X Villain turned hero!Gn!AFAB!Reader; Platonic!Batfam
Tw: 18+; Dubcon between Yan!Bruce X Gn!Reader; Reader has a pussy and an uterus; Grooming?!; Reader is inexperienced and a virgin; Reader is a people pleaser; age gap (Reader is 21 and Bruce is on his 40’s); fingering!reader receiving; mentions of sexu4l harr4sment, s3xual 4ssault and pedoph1lia (nothing happens, reader was just afraid of being a victim growing up); Bruce is very touchy and Reader doesn't know how to feel about that; power imbalance; Reader has intense daddy and thrust issues, intrusive thoughts and a rough background; mentions of family loss; fluff, suggestive and angst; manipulation and guilt tripping; platonic!batfamily are happy, Damian loves you and no one knows Bruce is a yandere for you, but they are kinda weirded out by the age gap; English is not my first language.
Word count: 8,5k
Requested? Yes.
Extra notes: that's how I’m picturing villain!reader suit and that's the vigilant suit. Also It was really hard to find cool names for reader’s villain ex-mentor and reader’s villain and hero persona, but you can imagine whatever suit and name you want
General masterlist
You were 11 when your deadbeat father handed you over to Overkill to appease the criminal’s anger. That day, you lost your birth name and became Onslaught.
When you joined him you were afraid your fate would be to become his sex slave, it wouldn't be absurd to think he wanted to use you like that since the last time you saw your father, when he was on his knees, crying for his life to be spared, he cried an offer that your mentor accepted: my kid! Take my kid! They already bleed! Check their underwear! They're already grown, take them and do whatever you want to them! Don't even have to bring them back, take them with you if you want! They can clean and cook and will do whatever you want, I swear! they will keep quiet! I won't tell anyone!
Tsk. Pathetic old man.
Later he told you he only took you in because cruelty against kids was the only line he refused to cross and hated who committed It. He said you were better off with him If your own father made a strange and violent man an offer of such disgusting nature.
Overkill never touched you the way your father expected. If 99% of the time he didn't treat you like a minion, and 1% as his ward, you could even love him. He definitely was your second (shitty) father figure.
Instead, he did make you cook and clean, but only when you weren't training and studying to be his sidekick. He was a villain-for-hire. Sketchy civilians, crime bosses, supervillains and corrupt politicians would hire you both to do the stealing, killing and terrorizing. When you became his, it meant he could get more jobs while working less and earning more. He got 99% of the money and you would get 1%. Literally. If he was in a good mood, felt you deserved a treat or one of the clients showed a liking to you, he gave you more, never more than his own part though.
It was just one more way to keep the leash of the puppy attached to him. Keep you dependent. He also used psychological methods for that, you knew that now.
When you were a kid, before he became your mentor, like every normal child, you developed an obsession. Some liked dinosaurs. Some liked princesses. Some liked insects. You liked wolves. You used to spend hours imagining yourself being one of them. Running through the woods with a pack that would accept, love and protect you. Your cries for help, the night that your father beat your mom to her grave and was close to doing the same to you, were howls to the moon. Calling for help. Calling for someone. But the only one who could hear your frequency was him.
Your savior. Your keeper. The alpha of your little two member pack.
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When you were 21 your whole life changed for the second time. Batman caught Overkill, cut off his claws, put a muzzle on him and left him in Belle Reve.
He was merciful to you though, he was a hero after all, and he investigated your history. He gave you options: 1-Live a civilian and lawful life. 2-Learn his ways and become a vigilant by his side, saving lives and all that shit that made heros panties wet. 3-Keep the lifestyle of a criminal and next time he saw Onslaught in action he would break your legs and put you in a cage right next to your packleader's.
You chose the second option.
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And that was how Onslaught was dead and Silverclaw was born.
Batman set you up in one of his safehouses, helped get a new identity and you were to patrol the city with him every night. You thought because you were an adult he would leave you on your own when It came to education and a job, he didn't. He insisted on giving you money until you found a common daytime job.
— Are you doing that to make sure I’m not gonna try to monetize from saving people? — You looked at him suspiciously, searching for a facial reaction that could give him away. None came. Dude was really stoic.
— No.
— You are trying to control me then. — You crossed your arms, being mindful of your new claws.
— I’m trying to help you. — Batman stared at you a lot. If you didn't know better you would think he was a statue in the middle of your new living room from how still he was. You huffed. — You can trust me…
— Can I, really? Can you trust me? — You challenged him, half stepping forward and learning slightly in his direction while touching the bat in his chest with the tip of your claw. He didn't react.
— You will show me.
You chose not to respond and resumed your previous actions of looking around your new home. You pretended to just be touring curiously but the man knew you were searching for cameras or bugs he could use to secretly monitor you. Or just have a peepshow.
— You always do this to the rest of your bats? — He didn't answer. — Maybe not all, I imagine Red Hood wouldn't like it. You don't mind that he is a crime lord right? Or is that the reason you are always fighting?! — He still didn't answer. — Wow, Geez, you never shut up, you know?! Let other people talk. Uh, sorry, I shouldn't be talking like that with my new boss, right?
— I'm not your boss.
— Babysitter then?
— Mentor… Until you can work on your own… — You roll your eyes. So much for admitting he didn't trust you yet. Well, you didn't either.
After three months he changed your suit to have a bat brand on your left shoulder, you were an official member of his team, and gave you access to the batcave. You always saw him, some of the others and his butler coming and going from the elevator, but never tried It, even If he never out loud forbade you from doing it. You noticed they were all very close and didn't feel like you belonged among them, so you didn't need to know where that elevator took you, even If you were often in the cave.
On the 5th month you passed out from an injury after saving Robin. Two-face flipped the coin and his bullet was aiming straight to Robin’s head but he was so small that when you ran in front of him it hit your abdomen. You woke up four hours later in the cave and Batman took his mask off and thanked you for saving his son. That night you found out all of their identities and that the elevator took you to Wayne Manor. Damian, Alfred, Bruce, Tim and Dick (who showed up to thank you as soon as he heard what you prevented from happening with his baby brother) all insisted that you spent the night in one of the guest rooms due to your recent injury.
It took a week of you trying to leave until you managed to. Everyone always found a way to convince you to stay. They were nice and It felt like a warm welcome into their group.
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— Damian looks up to you. — Bruce calmly stated after stopping in front of you one day, a month after your recovery was complete and you were out and about at night again. After watching you sparing with Robin for an hour and a half, the opened case was officially forgotten on his ‘batcomputer’ behind him.
— Yeah, I can really feel him putting all his love on his tiny fists when he hits me and leave me bruised and sore for days. — You comment nonchalantly while taking a sip of water and glancing at the kid running towards the elevator. Your mentor snorted.
— He wants you to see him as someone on your level or above. To know that he is reliable and you can call for him when you need help. He did the same with everyone here. Chalenged them, I mean. — You open your mouth to respond but freeze and your arm instintively moves on its own to grip his wrist when he tries to touch your shoulder.
You both stare a each other frozen and in silence for a few seconds before you snap out of it and let go of his wrist.
— My bad.
His hand is still in the air and he slowly retreats It to his side while still analizing you.
— Are you scared of me? — You shake your head hurriedly.
— It was instinct. — You leave It at that.
You both spend a few moments just staring the other down until he clears his throat and step back.
— I’m on a case. You need to work on your detective skills more. Are you free now or are you going to your nest? — You felt deeply grateful for his change of subject and agreed.
You went to grab another seat but his long legs beat you to It, rolled the chair in the direction of the computer and gentlemanly gestured for you to seat down, pushing the chair forward to accommodate you when your tights touched the padding. You raised your eyebrows wearily after the whole interaction but didn't react more than that while he situated himself on his ‘batseat’ beside you.
After a few minutes you unconsciously relaxed your muscles and your conversation went on for hours. You were delightened by how easy It was to talk to him, the first time It didn't feel like an interaction between you that wasn't strictly mentor and apprentice, instead, It felt more like a friend giving you tips and you sucked up on all the knowledge and attention he provided you. He seemed in a good mood and even gave you his signature small smile and praised you a few times when you got something right.
At some point Alfred came down to provide you both with tea and snacks, he seemed to pause for a second while his eyes flew from you to Bruce, who was behind you since you turned around to acknouledge his entrance, covering most of his emotions towards the sight. He semeed kinda… Intrigued. Maybe surprised or awkward. You hacked your brain trying to understand but he turned around and left, Bruce was pushing your cup into your hands before you came to any conclusion.
— You like tea? — He questioned and the contrast between this question and the gory case you were discussing seconds before amused you.
— Uhh, I guess? — You brought the cup closer to your lips, copying his actions as he did the same while looking at you casually. — I like more coffee though, and Overkill was a coffee enthusiast so we drank a lot.— You scrunched your nose at the fleeting memory of your old mentor and the weird reminder that he had a human personality behind his usual strict behavior.
Bruce's eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly for a second before the expression vanished. He never held back when it came to showing contempt towards anyone from his team’s past who was associated with crime.
— Were you close to him? — Suddenly he seemed more serious. You wondered if you were misreading the mood this whole time or were just doing it right now.
— Hmm… Not really… It's complicated… - You took another sip.
— I’m listening. — He seemed sincere. Apparently you were having a break from work.
— He wasn't all bad, I mean, he saved me, but… He still kept me around for all business… — Part of you felt like grieving for some reason. — I guess I ended up seeing him as as father figure, or I wanted to, but… — Bruce held himself not to tense. For the first time since the work talk stopped he took his eyes off of your face and looked at his cup. — He just… He knew how to keep his distance while still keeping me by his side 24/7. — He looked at you again, with a more neutral semblance than before. — At leash until I turned 18. He changed when I turned 18. — Bruce furrowed his eyebrows with concern. It was still odd to know someone cared about you.
— How so?
You cleared your throat. It was the first time you thought about the past since becoming a lonely wolf, or rather, you thought you were a lonely wolf, that changed when you realized you now had friends. Thinking about the past was pointless when you barely had something to be nostalgic about. You only had memories you desperately wanted to forget.
— Well… You know how his only weak spot are kids. When I hit 18, I stopped being a kid for him. I was finally too old to commit mistakes. I think he saw me as a possible threat and wanted to prevent me from becoming one by proving how much power he had over me. He was a boss for me just as much as any goom beneath him.
Bruce nodded thoughtfully. You didn't say more, afraid of delving too much on something you avoided to think about until your darkest nights.
Suddenly you felt your whole body tense when you felt his warm and big hand rest just above your knee and squeeze. You fixed your gaze on his hand but didn't move more than that. It felt strange, you weren't used to gentle touches and maybe there was something more, you Just didn't now what yet. It got worse when he kept his palm there and went further, rolling his thumb in circles around your clothed knee. The thick sweatpants fabric kept the barrier of intimacy up albeit the heat radiating off of him somehow challenged it. How can someone be so warm? You envied people who where always warm like that. You hated feeling cold — one of the reasons why you liked your suit so much.
— I’m sorry about that… — His voice mande your eyes snap to his again, he had a sincere expression. It was off putting and seemed out of character since he was always stoic, at least around you.
You bite your lip in a display of nervousness that escaped your usually well conceived emotions. Your heart beat faster when for a fleeting second he looked at your mouth and just as fast he was fixed on your eyes again. You didn't think the action had any hidden meaning, nor was it intentional, still, you felt the the need to run and hide.
— … Sure… — You moved to cross your legs, silently prompting him to finally take his hand off after lingering for too long. You looked back to the computer, determined to ignore what just happened and reflect on what it meant later. You missed his displeasement.
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Bruce never expected himself to feel attracted to you. As he got older, the age range of the people he felt attracted to accompanied his age. He kept to himself and willed it away at first, but you were so… You.
You tried acting cold, kinda like him. But you needed him and strays always caught his attention. Unlike his kids he had a hunch that you wouldn't flourish by being independent and left on your own. You needed a keeper.
At first he felt like a creep every time your body caught his attention or he found himself staring at you for longer than intended. He was hyperaware everytime you two were close, wich usually was when sparring.
Bruce thought that taking you in as his protegee would satiate his need to take care of you and have you close, but after months of paying your bills and mentoring you, he realized his feelings for you were not platonic.
And it seemed like he was not the only one.
He knew the rest of the family noticed his “fleeting” touches that would linger on your shoulder, arms, back and knee. He retracted himself every time you showed clear disfomfort though, but you never outright rejected him.
His theory of his family's knowledge of his interest in you was confirmed one night when Nightwing stopped by to borrow some equipment and witnessed Batman closer than necessary to Silverclaw, while taking too much to inspect — with his eyes and his hands — your gloves that you were wearing and apparently had recently been upgraded.
— Hey, guys! — Dick’s hesitacion towards the scene grew but kept hidden when you both looked up at him surprised. Somehow he caught you both off guard even if the elevator was not that silent. Dick noted that Silverclaw seemed slightly wide-eyed, the only feature in your suit that was left exposed, along with your eyebrows, while Bruce, who wasn't wearing the cow, maintained a neutral expression, like he didn't have anything to hide. You both greeted him when surprise subsided and you took a step back from Bruce, like you just realized your proximity.
— Hmm… I should get going… Gonna meet Red Robin on the docks in a few. — Both men acknowledged your presence again and Dick saw your awkwardness, his parent seemed fine though.
Bruce nodded to you and you suddenly felt like a sidekick who had just gotten permission from Overkill to do something you were supposed to be doing with or without his approval, but needed to make sure your superior thought it to be appropriate for the mission. A soldier reporting to their captain. Like you never actually took a step forward and everything was the same. It made you feel small and hollow. Gave a bad taste to your mouth. It didn't feel good. But you ignored it because it was all in your head.
Before you could move, the oldest hand shot to your waist and squeezed briefly the soft flesh there as best as he could with the armor in the way. You felt your blood freeze and shivered.
— Be careful. We don't know what Killer Croc is doing there. And take care of Red Robin, he only had 10 hours of sleep in the last three days. — You meekly and wordlessly nodded and robotically left on your bike while feeling a pair of eyes scrutinizing your every move.
Dick cleared his throat, finally catching the Dark Knight’s attention for good.
— Dick. Do you need something? — Bruce turned to his work table and started tinkering with what apparently he was doing before you interrupted him earlier.
— I mean, just came to take a spare mask, I think the camera lenses on mine broke. But since I’m already here… — The younger alonged the last word while hopping to his father’s side. — B, can I talk to you about something? Don't be mad. — That made Bruce worried. Dick cringed at his own wording and the older male turned to him and crossed his arms.
— What happened? — Bruce demanded in a Batman’s voice.
— Nothing! Nothing. Sorry, my bad. What I meant was… Are you sure that's what you want? — At his dad’s confused furrowed eyebrows the hero explained. — (Y/N). I mean… They’re quite young, you know?! It's a lot of responsibility... I don't think they've ever dated anyone, even if they're between Jason and Tim’s age and Tim’s a whore… Too much of a slut for his own age, actually- Not the point. It's just, everyone noticed and have been commenting about it, but I don't think they noticed already. — Nightwing leaves it at that, hoping that his father understands what he was trying to say, desperately trying not to have to explain more and feel like he is teaching his own father the ‘puberty will make your body change’ and the ‘birds and bees’ talk, or ‘bats and wolves’ talk, in this case.
Bruce blinked.
— Are you trying to give me the sex talk? — And there goes all his hard work. — And stop swearing. — Dick groans and runs his hand through his face.
— Nooo, why do you make everything so difficult? It’s just… First of all, we thrust you okay? It just feels weird when you start flirting with them, especially for the ones that live here. I mean, me and Jason still have nightmares and get the creeps when we remember the time when you used to date Selina. And Damian almost pukes every time Talia tries to rizz you up again. — Dick is careful to dance around the subject of your more than two decades age gap. — And, like I said, I don't think (Y/N) has much experience either. Maybe they don’t know what you're doing. Just… Go slow, okay?!
Bruce holds a huff for the sake of being stoic.
He already envisioned the possibility of you having none or little experience before, and you haven't done anything that told him otherwise yet. Deep down he is kinda… Turned on knowing he could be your first everything. Teach you just how he likes. Be the only one to ever know what you like. He's also happy that, by the way his son said it, it looks like everyone thinks you are both closer than you really are. More intimate, romantic. He and you are the only ones who know that you never had a conversation about the change in your dynamic, limits, future and general status. He thinks you are conflicted, and this conversation only encouraged him to either lay down the cards for you or catch you off guard and put you against the wall. Metaphorically.
And maybe literally.
He's also not going to think too deep in the warm feeling he feels when thinking about corrupting an innocent puppy who isn't even aware of his intentions.
A sheep in wolf's clothing.
— I know all about that, Dick. Don't worry, I'm being mindful of their timing.
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— You should move to the manor.
Bruce's blurted out sentence caught you so off guard you choked on your rich people's food. You knew he was simmering something in his mind the whole morning.
He recently got you to work as his assistant in Wayne Enterprises. You felt he either pitied you for having been forced to drop school when you were 11 you couldn't find many options that allowed you to live a comfortable life — in the standards of an old money billionaire at least —, and your lack of education wasn't a problem to be solved fast. You just didn't know he wanted a solid excuse to be your sole provider forever and wanted you close to him all the time.
He also liked how you looked in formal attire. Developed a fantasy of bending you over the table and taking you from behind. Making you suck him off under the table. Then get on his knees and reciprocate the favor. Became obsessed with the sight of the first buttons of your shirt open, exposing your neck and collarbone. Was hooked on how it made your chest look. Was bent on making you lean forward to give him a flash of what's under your shirt.
He was never this perverted for anyone his whole life. You must be special.
The Wayne was unbothered with your choking while people on the other tables glanced your way, he simply chose to pat you on the back — and not take his hand off when you felt better, you still didn't know how to feel about the touchy nature he adopted when with you. He never hurt you, but was it really… Appropriate?
He is your mentor. He is a lot older. Your inner child cried for him to take you in as one more of his children, heal your daddy issues.
Another part of you, on the other hand, thought of you to be too old for him to simply claim you as his child — he took in his children who were close to your age when they were kids —. That part also told you you were undeserving of love, that everyone just wanted to take advantage of you, and that authority figures should shove it up their asses.
Your intrusive thoughts remarked that if he really wanted you sexually — obviously romantically was not an option. All you are is an object. —, well, he is very attractive. And even If you decide that you don't want him that way… You should just take It. He is above you. It's just how hierarchy works. He protects you. He takes care of you. You should be grateful and stay on his good side.
You internally shake your head. No. That's not how it works.
You took a sip of water.
— What are you talking about? Why? — You look at him, trying to understands where this is coming from. Sure, living alone was kinda lonely, but freeing, you didn't feel like you needed to seek anyone's approval or permission when you were alone. Besides, you were barely on your nest now that he got you this job anyway. And Damian seemed to like running off and sleeping in your place when he and Bruce were having their disaccords.
— Well, for one, it would give me peace of mind, it's safer with us. It would also make It easier for you, you wouldn't have to drive home alone at 3 a.m after patrols. — You raised an eyebrow at his current list of reasons. The 1st might be right. But the 2nd was like saying you were a civilian walking home after your shift at your civilian job. Not a vigilant, ex-criminal with 10 years of experience in hand-to-hand combat, maneuvering of weapons, who rides a motorcycle to a toptech safehouse while carrying a bat-utility belt and stainless steel claws. You kept your mouth shut when he seemed to have more reasons. — Damian would love to have you closer, the others too, but you know you are his second favorite. — Your heart felt warm at that. After learning the reason for the puppy’s bites, you couldn't help but see a bit of yourself in him, since you had similar backgrounds. You tried to subtly give him a safe space so he wouldn't turn out to be like you. You didn't want that for anyone. Especially a kid. — And also… I want you closer.
You took a deep breath while nodding slowly and trying not to react. Looks like it's time to acknowledge the elephant in the room. Suddenly his hand on your back felt heavier and burning hot.
— Why? — Your tone and steely expression made it clear you demanded a clear and honest answer from him. One he didn't hesitate to give you.
Faking a confused expression, he tilted his head slightly to the side.
— What do you mean why? I want you (Y/N). — Your blood froze. — I think it's been very clear that I’m in love with you. — You felt like you received a punch to the gut. — I… Thought you felt the same… — No, he didn't.
You didn't know what to say.
Bruce slowly retracted his hand away from you, but you stopped him midair by grabbing it. He knew it was time to take the next step.
You didn't even know why you did that. Do you feel the same for him?
— I… I… — Your mouth was opening and closing like a fish. He nodded understandably.
— It’s okay. You need time to think. My offer still stands. Even if you don't feel the same… I Just care about you above anything, okay? — You reluctantly nodded, staring at him almost dumbfounded. He smiled lightly to show he was still in good spirits.
After a moment of pondering he bit his lower lip, took his hand closer to your face and caressed your cheek, eyes stuck on his face, mesmerized. You were surprised someone as generous and rightful as him could look at you like that. Admirating you like you weren't tainted.
He even gave you a choice! And told you he cared about you! No matter if you feel the same!
He would certainly be a good man to love.
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— Say ‘thank you’ to (Y/N), Damian.
— TT. Thank you, (L/N). — The little green-eyed puppy was looking from you to his present repeatedly. Months prior, when Batman first took you in, before you even had the bat insignia on your shoulder, you caught Robin sitting on a roof reading Death Note on his phone. You didn't know what it was and he pretended to be annoyed with your interruption while explaining it. Now, he is completing 14 and you bought him the whole set of volumes. You wanted him to know that you paid attention and cared about him. You wished someone did that when you were his age. Overkill didn't want to hear about wolves or about the cool new things you were seeing for the first time on your trips together.
You smiled.
— You’re welcome, pups. — Damian let out a ‘TT’ again and turned around to run to his friend Jon. You could almost see their wagging tails while they excitedly talked about his present. Bruce's hand running in circles in the small of your back snapped you out of it and you straightened your posture from the bent position you took to talk to the little one.
It was two weeks prior that he asked you to live with them. You accepted and moved a week ago. It was slightly disappointing to know you wouldn't gain a father out of him, but a least his confession made it easier to understand your feelings. You haven’t outright told him that you wanted him like a man, you were testing things out. In the end, you were both adults and at some point you had to learn to thrust someone. When looking at Damian you knew you didn't want your whole life to be defined by the abuses of two men. And when you agreed to his offer he seemed to see it as a consent to up his seduction.
His touch was still strange. You learned to like the feel of it, and you were getting used to it, soon It wouldn't be so foreign. You just started realizing how touchstarved you were and were just starting to crave it. Initiating it was still a distant concept, though, you had a — strongly equivocate — hunch that he wouldn't like it, that you would do something wrong in the simplest attempt of hugging him, holding his hand or touching his arm, that your touch wouldn't feel as delicate and tingly as his was, and you would make a fool of yourself. At least when you patted Ace, Titus, Alfred the cat and Batcow they seemed happy.
The others seemed to take well to seeing your interaction together — you didn't know they already knew where this was going way before yourself —. Sure, Jason called him a cradle robber but the ex-Robin always found an excuse to offend him. Everyone laughed at his comment, Dick and Alfred lightly reprimanded him (the former way more amused the latter). Bruce didn't react. You felt rotten. And when Jason later said something like “now Bruce, go play with your puppy and let us handle things” during a briefing, you knew it wasn't an offense — at least, not towards you. Plus, he called you a puppy before to tease you even if you were a year younger than him. — but it stuck in your head and you took the first opportunity to escape Batman’s hand on your tight and lock yourself in a bathroom to take a breath.
— I will transfer the money to your account. — Your head snapped towards Bruce and you exclaimed a genuine and loud ‘What?’, but everyone around you was also being way too loud for anyone to pay attention to you. Bruce hummed. — The set. It must’ve been expensive, I will give you the money back. — You shook your head.
— No, Bruce, It was a present. — Just the idea of it was absurd. What an odd man.
— Well, not to me, right?! So I can do It. — You scoffed at his logic. — Actually you could have told me before you were buying it and I would have given you my card. — He blinked. — That reminds me… — He took your hand and gently guided you out of the living room where the party was situated. No one batted an eye.
Damian had scoffed at the childish idea of a birthday party, but you could see right through him better than anyone.
You looked around confused as he guided you through the corridors and then up the stairs. The loud voices getting distant made the rest of the mansion feel eerily empty.
— Where are we going? — He glanced back at you and then ahead again, before briefly squeezing your hand.
— To my study. I have something for you there.
His response didn't satisfy all your curiosity but you knew he wouldn't give you more than that.
When you got there he opened the door for you and encouraged you to enter first with a hand on your lower back, then he shut the door closed and guided you to stand in front of his table. He walked around, opened a cabinet, took ou an envelope and came back to your side. The older male extended the envelope at you, who took it with suspicion after a moment of hesitation.
You forced yourself to not look up while you analyzed the envelope and opened it, ignoring both of his warm and gigantic hands that he positioned on your waist and squeezed — he liked squeezing you a lot, you noticed. — while he lightly reclined himself to sit on top of the table, in front of you, most of his weight being distributed to his long and meaty legs that were also on each side of you. He even pulled you closer and even if there was still space between your bodies, you were close enough to feel his heat.
You looked at the content inside the paper and froze. Such reaction could have come either from the sight of a black card with your name on it or because he chose that moment to sneak his hands under your shirt and caress your bare waist slowly with his calloused fingertips.
— No. — You slapped the card and paper against his chest. The bastard didn't react.
— Yes.
— No!
— Yes.
— I can't take it! — You kicked the ground stubbornly. He still didn't move, stubbornly.
— Why not? — You raised both eyebrows.
— Bruce, are you kidding me? That thing is limitless.
— Your point being? — You blinked several times.
— Wow… I knew you were one of those rich eccentric guys, but putting on a batsuit… — You refused to call it a costume and imply that you also wore a costume and were technically a furry. You learned that word from Tim. — … And beating up criminals is one thing. Going around distributing limitless cards to all your friends is simply insane! — One side of his mouth tilted up in what you quietly admitted was a sexy smark.
— Actually if I wanted to do that I could. But you are not a friend. You are part of the family. And my girlfriend. — And mine. His tongue craved to utter.
That easily silenced you. You didn't know how to react to that. You hacked your brain for any moment were you told him something in that connotation. You didn't find it. But well, couldn't blame the guy, he did told you he wanted you and you didn't stop his moves.
You cleared your throat, trying to hide your shock. He didn't seem surprised by your reaction.
It was another thing that being with them changed in you. You don't control your emotions 24/7 anymore, only when you are out and about as Silverclaw. In the past it was second nature, but feeling happiness was so new to you that you weren't used to trying to hide it yet. Nor wanted to. And you slowly gave yourself permission to be free and express most of what you felt. Not everything, you were still surrounded by a very odd-cryptic-strategizing-hyperanalyser-micro-expressions-reader-and-weird-with-emotions group of people. But you felt no one was really going to judge you if you chose to be free.
— I-I… Yeah… Yeah, okay. You are right. — You meekly accepted his statement. If he said it was true, then it was true. You would follow his lead. You are way too loyal and he knows that. You both wondered what was your limit. You were afraid of what would happen when that limit came. Would you just keep going just to make him happy? He hoped you did.
Actually, he might test some of those limits right now.
He carefully took the card and envelope from your hand and set it on the table behind him, you just rested your palms against his chest. Baby steps for you. Bruce wished that baby was a speedster.
You stuttered when he brought you closer, leaned forward and started tracing a random path of kisses on the skin of your neck. You allowed his sucking and laping of your skin for a few minutes and even tried running your fingers through the hair on the back of his head. His hands started roaming.
When his right squeezed the left cheek of your ass though, you gave a slight jump. It felt very sudden and activated your fight or flight instinct.
— W-We should go back downstairs. — You blurted out. Bruce just hummed in response, the vibration tickling your neck and ear. Aside from that he didn't stop his ministrations and that made you feel worse. Maybe you were the problem? Were you not clear enough? Shouldn't you endure more? For you? For him? He was used to people going a lot further with him, and here you were, trying to force him to stop just when he tried to spice things up with you. For fuck’s sake, you haven't even kissed him yet!
You bit your lip and willed your muscles to relax. Maybe all you need to do is endure a little bit more and you will get used to it. Until now that seemed to be the pattern.
Ignoring your pounding heart, you closed your eyes and just tried to enjoy it. You thought it was working until suddenly he stopped, and before you could open your eyes, stole a kiss from you.
It didn't grow to more than a half-second peck because your instincts to run took over your body and you jumped away from him, your hands extended in front of your body like you were dealing with a wild animal.
You just stared at each other with almost wide eyes for a few seconds, before the older male sighed, looked down and pressed the bridge of his nose with his pointer and thumb. Oh no. He wasn't happy. You shouldn't have done that. You fucked up.
— I’m sorry. — Bruce looked stressed when he rubbed his hand around his face, then brought it up to push his perfectly styled hair back. You shook your head like a scared kid. He finally looked up at you. — I’m sorry. I shouldn't have done that.
— No, no, it’s okay, I… Liked it. — You almost whispered in a meek voice. — Was just surprised. — Bruce nodded. He was unhappy with himself that he got carried away and almost fucked things up with you. But his infatuation made him lose train of thought sometimes. Yes. He wants to do bad things to you, corrupt you, desperately. But he doesn't want you trying to run away from him just yet, if ever.
You slowly made your way towards him again, your arms around your body, trying to bring yourself comfort. You wanted him to hug you and comfort you the same way, but you didn't know if he would do that, and if he did touch you again, would it really make you feel better?
It felt wrong. You just now had asked for him to stop completely, or at least give you a break, and he blatantly ignored it. Made you feel invisible, insignifcant, desperate enough to run. And here you were, seeking for a signal that he wouldn't give up on you just yet.
— Did… Did you know I never had a birthday party? — You forced yourself not to vacillate and put your hands on his shoulders.
— Hmm? — He gazed at you curiously but didn't touch you yet. It made you feel anxious and you forced yourself to take another step closer. Now you were just as close as you were before.
— I never had a birthday party. And last time I was invited to one I was 10. I didn't get to go though, it was my best friend's party, but my father was in a bad mood, so my mom said it was better not to do anything that could set him off. So I stayed home. — You felt his fingertips caressing tracing both of your tights carefully, it could almost be an unconscious move by how intensely concentrated he seemed with your story. — Next day, at school, everyone was talking about how fun, cool and amazing it was. I felt jealous and said I would have the best birthday party ever when I hit 11. I didn't. And no one remembered my promise. — He nodded slowly, his eyebrows furrowed with what was probably sympathy at you and anger at you father. At least that's how you felt. Sad for the younger you and hatred towards your father. — If you could… — You elongated your sentence, trying to hint your request for him, and he cut you off just like you wanted, expressing what was on his mind.
— What's your favorite cake flavor?
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The gala ended just about an hour ago but you were both already in bed. Domesticity came easy when living together and even when you had your own room — much to his dismay. — Bruce quickly worked on getting you used to him enough to lay down beside him. And right now he was very grateful that you didn't have socials or else his plans for the night would’ve been interrupted by your discomfort about being called ‘Bruce Wayne’s controversially young new sweetheart’ and comments about his playboy mask.
He was getting impatient but Bruce knew that all good things come slowly, he took the night off to focus only on his goal.
You were laid down on your bed, in your own room and he was beside you, facing you, while you both talked, held hands and occasionally exchanged chaste kisses. It was cute, and innocent, but his balls had been blue since the party three weeks ago.
It was fine when his right hand let go of your left, his arm being thrown around your waist to accommodate the position, and placed on your middle. He kept running his hand around your upper body slowly and you swayed closer to him. At this point the only sounds in the room came from kisses and the friction of skin against fabric.
When Bruce angled himself and pushed in your direction until he was on top of you, It was still okay. What made you startled and nervous was when he pressed his hips down and you felt his hard cock against your thigh — the back of your mind screamed about how big he was and how it wouldn't fit when the time comes.
— Hmm… Bruce? — You felt a little antsy, but you thought he would understand what you were trying to say. Didn't seem like the case, since he kept kissing you to silence you. You felt suffocated and that prompted you to push his chest weekly. Maybe you needed to give a clearer signal.
Bruce stared at you from above for a second before closing his eyes and sighing.
His reaction shocked you and you didn't move when he got off and plopped down beside you again, this time putting more distance between your bodies and facing the ceiling. He draped his arm over his face and took a deep breath.
You sheepishly tilted to your side and went closer to him, his possible annoyance towards you made you more reluctant to touch him, but you did it anyway, trying to appease him.
— Bruce…
— What is it? — He finally looked at you. He was not happy. — You don't trust me yet? — His furrowed brows, grave voice and held back tone intimidated you slightly, it just caused more worry.
— N-No, it's not that… — Bruce thought it was better to turn down a notch on his acting if he wanted to have his way with you tonight.
He nodded, relaxed his muscles and turned his body in your direction again. He draped his arm around your waist and started trailing slow kisses down your neck to calm you down.
— I know. I know, puppy. — He uttered carefully and nodded reassuringly. — It's not your fault. I'm just a little… Frustrated, is all. — Your brows cinched.
— Frustrated with… Me? — Your heart ached at the thought. It was hard hearing him, and just as hard saying it out loud. Bruce shook his head.
— I just don't understand. I’ve been taking care of you for so long, been waiting for you, doing so much for you. But it's like you are still guarding yourself from me… I love you, pup, you are everything to me and I desire you. Wanna make you feel good. But, sometimes, you make me feel like… Like you don't feel the same… — You heart fell and you felt an urge to fix your mistakes.
— But I-I do! I just… — A sigh and then a deep breath. — … How can I do better? — You said meekly.
Bruce held back a smirk, you were smart even if insecure, and preening would give off his lewd plotting.
The dark knight pretended to contemplate for a brief moment as if he didn't plan every step beforehand.
— … We don't have to go all the way now, you could just… You could let me finger you? — Half of you felt relieved, the other, the one that just wanted to keep him happy, felt nervous but determined.
Your inexperienced and people pleaser mind couldn't comprehend how him doing things to you could also be considered him taking advantage of you. That was one of your biggest nightmares and paranoia. Growing up you were always afraid that your ex-mentor would assault you, or allow one of his employers and colleagues to hurt you just because they asked or paid for some fun with the young pretty thing. Especially after you weren't underage anymore, since he only seemed to have a soft spot for them. It somehow, thankfully, never happened, only impure comments were made and he cut them off every time until you were 18, after that you were left on your own and if you didn't do anything he saw it as you wanting it to happen since he trained you more than enough to protect yourself and show authority with others that were not him.
If Bruce wanted to pleasure you and not himself… Then he was really selfless and only wanted to help you with your little problem. He's been taking such good care of you for so long, there’s no reason to believe he won't do the same now.
So you nodded, shaken.
You let him maneuver you how he wanted and ended up the same way your making out session started, you on your back and the older man facing your direction. You watched closely and willing your heart to stop pounding as he undressed your legs and hips from your pants and underwear. It was awkward feeling so exposed, especially when he sneaked his arm between your legs and started fondling your dry center.
— Relax… Deep breaths… Just close your eyes and enjoy it… — His grave and husky voice whispers in your ear before teeth start nibbling on it, your whole body shivered and you did as he instructed, not sure if it was working until his friction felt less burning and waves of pleasure started rolling through you. You were right, he always wanted what's good for you, you reassured yourself and felt a little comforted, even if your heart was still pounding.
You let out a surprised gasp and your eyes shot open when you heard a loud wet squelch, the first thing you saw thing you saw were the movements of his wrist, the second, his face, eyes dead set on observing you, and he chuckled at your reaction.
— See? No reason to worry… — And worry you did not. You knew this short period of nervousness and those guilty feelings you were experiencing would be worth it in the future. And Bruce knew the risks he took and manipulation were proving their value right now.
He changes his up and down movements to circles and you let out a sound that you never heard coming out of your own mouth. Your eyes fluttered close automatically and your hand shot to grip his shirt with an unconscious amount of force.
— I-I like this better… — Bruce hummed and resumed working his mouth from your ear, to neck and collarbone.
His hand moves were slow and deliberate, but stable. The older man angles his body in an upper position so he could easily use his left hand to pull your shirt up slowly until your chest and pouting nipples were exposed. Lost in arousal and pleasure and thrusting he knew what he was doing you didn't bat an eye towards his actions.
You moaned louder when you felt his soft chapped lips close around your nipple and wet warm tongue playing with the sensitive bud. Bruce felt your lower lips getting wetter and used that to his advantage to intrude the squelching hole between your legs with his fingers curved upwards, his thumb expertly still running circles around your clit.
You gasped and both your hands shot to grab the bed comforter under you. It was the first time someone touched you like that and it was a while since you played with your bud yourself, so before you knew it, your pussy was squeezing and milking his fingers in the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had and this time the man couldn’t stop his grin from taking over his face.
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em-dash-press · 1 year
Text
Ways to Skip Time In Your Stories
Finding ways to skip time in stories can feel challenging. Writers often worry it’ll make their work feel too amateur or negatively affect their pacing. 
The truth is that every author includes ways they skip time to maintain their pacing and plot. Check out a few ways to do it with confidence. 
1. Start a New Chapter
Yes, it’s really that simple. Go back to your favorite books and note how each chapter ends. You’ll likely find a few of these tricks that transition the story in ways that match the story’s flow.
Ideas to End a Chapter
The protagonist goes to sleep (likely overused, but practical)
The characters end a conversation
One character informs another of a plot twist
Unexpected action occurs, like a car crash
2. Emphasize the Season
You don’t need to tell the reader exact dates or hours to pass the time. You could mention the season instead.
If a scene or chapter ends in the summer and you need your plot to start in winter, make your protagonist mention something about the leaves changing color and giving way to snow before your action picks up again. It will only take a sentence or two, so it’s also an effective method for short stories.
3. Visualize a Movie Montage
Imagine watching a movie about a character who goes on a summer adventure. They backpack through Europe, but they have to take a flight to get there. 
You likely wouldn’t see them standing in airport security lines, napping in a terminal or watching a full movie on their flight to their destination. Instead, you’d get a montage of them driving to the airport with a shot of their plane cruising over the open ocean.
Writers can do the same thing, minus the soundtrack in the background. Describe how your character got to their destination when a new chapter or scene starts. Your readers will get the general idea and appreciate getting straight to the plot that made them pick up your story in the first place.
Here are a few ideas to do this in just a few sentences:
One delayed flight and a bad airplane dinner later, I was walking out of the Amsterdam-Schiphol Airport with an aching back and excited heart.
My trip began with the perfect flight. I got an entire row of seats to myself, which made napping through the trip much easier. A flight attendant roused me awake when it was time to land. I couldn’t believe how fast I’d arrived in Athens that quickly.
My flight was just long enough to catch up on the movies I’d been missing over the last year. The landing gear bounced along the runway in Rome just as the Barbie credits started flashing across my iPad.
4. Showcase Some Confusion
Sometimes we aren’t aware of what time it is. We only know time has passed. That might be the best way to make time pass in your story if your protagonist gets confused, caught by surprise, or otherwise discombobulated.
These are some examples:
I woke up with a bad taste in my mouth. The sun was already peaking in the clear blue sky. How long had it been since my explosive video call with my ex the night before?
The time machine landed with a thud that knocked me to the ground. The control panel exploded in shimmering sparks. What year was it?
Working a double shift always left my brain spinning. I left work, walking across the parking lot with only the stars watching my back. I could feel the hours aching in my feet, but didn’t care what time it really was. I just needed to sleep.
5. Employ a Phrase
There are many quick phrases you can use to make your time jumps immediately clear. Consider using a few of these when you feel creatively stuck:
Later that morning
A few weeks later
After months of trying
Six hours later
The following week
As the store closed for the night
-----
There are many other ways to make time pass in a story. Starting with these could help you figure out the best way to move your story forward without disrupting its pacing. 
Remember, you’re in control of your story at all times. There’s always a way through creative challenges if you take a deep breath and try something new.
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sirfrogsworth · 7 days
Text
Meeting my longtime artist and good friend, Chris, IN REAL LIFE!
So, I hadn't been to a restaurant in over a decade. I can't even remember which restaurant since it was so long ago. But in the past few weeks I've now been to TWO restaurants.
I am becoming a social butterfly. 
And it is exhausting.
But also good.
First I reconnected with my high school best friend, John.
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And that went great.
But then the opportunity to see my friend Chris (a.k.a @whosthewhatnow ) came up only a few days later. And this close proximity of social events scared me a bit, but I have been feeling much better since they figured out my heart thing, so I decided to try and do both things even though they were only a few days apart. 
The key to this was strategic resting. As soon as I got home from seeing John, I got in bed and I didn't get out of it until it was time to see Chris. And that was just enough recovery time to pull this off. Typically a short outing requires 2-3 days of rest after. 
I had never met Chris in real life. He has done nearly all of the artwork for my website and comics over the past decade. And he was a main character in my CRAPPRnauts series.
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We know each other so well and it is crazy that we've never seen each other with our very own eyeballs.
He is such an amazing artist. He works fast and he adds so many cool extra details that you can stare at his comic panels multiple times and catch a new joke or easter egg each time. He is a dream to work with and my Corg Life series was only successful because he did such a wonderful job bringing Otis to life in comic form. 
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So we decided to meet up at a restaurant with his friend Michael and then I was going to take a nice portrait of him after dinner. Chris had never had a professional photo taken of himself and I decided to fix that.
I told him I had a mobile photography setup. Which, in reality, is a trunk full of lights and stands and other various camera gear that I definitely won't need, but bring anyway. It's "mobile" in that it all fits in my car if you are good at Tetris (which I am).
The restaurant was downtown and I had visions of St. Louis's famous Gateway Arch in the background of Chris's portrait. I thought that would be such a cool shot. I could see it in my head and I even dreamed about it.
So I got in my car and headed downtown and my GPS told me to exit at 249B. But I kept looking and I couldn't see the sign for 249B.
This is how much road I had left when I finally was able to see the exit for 249B.
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So I ended up taking 249A and going straight to East St. Louis.
Which, if you believe the headlines, is not a place you ever want to be.
Google Maps and I have been having issues lately. They also tried to get me to take the spooky way home that night, but thankfully I actually knew the non-spooky way back from when I used to go to Cardinal games with my parents as a kid.
My short term memory was trashed by shock therapy. And so was a lot of my long term memory. But it finally came through in a pinch and remembered something useful.
I only had to loop around and cross a bridge so I didn't really do anything but touch the edge of East St. Louis. I was mostly concerned about being late for dinner more than its scary reputation. Usually those news stories about a place being "dangerous" are actually just racist and hurtful to people stuck in poverty. I mean, technically my house is in a "dangerous" neighborhood, and we do have trouble with petty crime in some spots, but aside from a few dinged-up mailboxes, I've never felt unsafe in my home.
On the way back to regular St. Louis I could see the Arch on the horizon at sunset and it was kind of magical. And I wasn't able to get a good shot of it, but it sure looked pretty from my point of view. 
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My photos kind of remind me of the beginning of movies like Training Day where they are trying to show you gritty, dutch angle shots of the city out of the car window to give you a sense of the location.
As I approached the restaurant I invented a new genre I call "stoplight photography." The sky was orange and the streets of St. Louis were just asking to be photographed. But I wasn't willing to die to get neat photos, so I just took them at every red light.
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The big trick was trying to edit the dark area at the top of my windshield out of the photos to make it look like I didn't take these pictures from my car.
After a 15 minute detour through Illinois I arrived at my destination—a Mexican place called Rosalita's. It had a beautiful sign, so I took that literal sign as a metaphorical sign it was a nice place to get a quesadilla. 
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Dinner was great. Both signs were right and their quesadilla was very tasty. Chris and I both got one, so we are quesadilla twins. The waitress was one of those "I can remember your order without writing anything down" types. And I am one of those, "I get anxiety when things aren't written down" types. And, to her credit, she did not forget our orders. But she did forget to give us silverware and napkins. So I still feel like my anxiety was valid. 
We told sad stories of the pups we lost. But we also had a lot of fun and laughed and I got to meet Michael who turned out to be an absolute mensch. I sometimes have trouble meeting new people with my social anxiety, but he was very affable and made me feel comfortable with his presence almost right away. He was a fan of Otis and mentioned he still has a Super Otis shirt. I always get choked up hearing that Otis is still loved. Hopefully we get to meet again. 
Dinner ended and it was picture time.
I asked Chris if he wanted the high effort photo or the low effort photo. Either we figure out how to get to the Arch or we find a spot near the restaurant and just take his portrait there. Chris and Michael had a driver because they were coming from a big conference and getting to the Arch would have been complicated. So we decided to go with the low effort option. 
I found a cool shop nearby that had an LED wall that changed to all sorts of different colors. And I thought that would make a neat background and give a colorful edge light on Chris's face. I pulled my car near that spot and started unloading my trunk full of photo gear.
I think Chris and Michael were a little overwhelmed when I started pulling camera gear out of my trunk like a clown pulling an endless handkerchief out of his mouth. But as far as photo setups go, it was actually pretty minimal. 
Light, giant battery, light stand, umbrella, tripod, camera, rolling walker with seat.
My dad's old rollator came in clutch because I wanted to shoot from a low angle and it is hard for me to bend down. In fact, I think I'm going to look into getting an all terrain version so I can do more outdoor photoshoots.
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I started shooting in the middle of a downtown sidewalk. And I was super anxious. I could not focus (my brain, not my camera). I was very distracted with all of the people walking by and staring. I was not sure if any of the photos were turning out. I wasn't even sure if they were in focus (my camera, not my brain) because I had not yet had my lens calibrated. But down the street there was a guy with an old school boombox playing random music. His music helped to drown out the ambient noise and gave me some comfort.
I had no clue if the photos were any good, but when I got home and checked them on my computer, I realized I have 12 years of experience and muscle memory built up. I probably should have just trusted myself because the photos all turned out great.
I think Chris can now officially say he has had a professional portrait taken of himself.
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This photo has been officially loved by Chris's girlfriend and mother.
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There is no greater seal of approval and I am honored.
I was able to comp in any of the colors the wall displayed from other shots in case Chris is feeling a little more green in the future.
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A literal rainbow of options.
I also liked this one, though it is a little more "environmental portrait" than regular portrait.
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And I got some nice photos of our little group to help us remember the night. 
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And I got a bunch of photos of Chris making silly faces like Calvin at his school photoshoot. 
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I love this woman's reaction to our little impromptu sidewalk photo shenanigans.
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After we said our goodbyes and I gave my friend a hug, I was a little bummed I didn't get to photograph him at the Arch like I had dreamed.
But then I realized I had my own car and it was capable of taking me places. (I actually haven't gotten used to that after not driving for nearly 15 years.)
So I decided to drive a few blocks over to Kiener Plaza—a park with a view of the Arch. 
TO BE CONTINUED...
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puppym3 · 2 months
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hi lovely! i hope you’re doing well <33 could i suggest a seungmin fic that’s kind of like, opposites attract? like seungmin’s this nerdy and shy guy, but in reality (or in bed) he’s not. and y/n’s this outspoken and bold girl but in reality she’s not. sort of like when they get to know each other on an intimate level they realize they’re the exact opposite of how they’ve been portraying themselves to others.
i hope that made sense 😭😭. also u seem really cool feel free to send dms or asks anytime <3
- lovestayblogs ☺️💗
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. unmasked
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⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
nerdy!seungmin x popular!reader
wc: 9.4k (I DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS THAT LONG.)
warnings: MDNI! 18+, CHAT i got carried away, i got too invested in this guys im sorry, smut, fake dating, campus dating, rumors, nerdy!seungmin, popular!reader, alcohol consumption, college parties, a lot of tension, mutual pining, first time, unprotected piv, creampie, handjob, fingering, a lot of dirty talk, dom!seungmin, sub!reader, they're in love its so fluffy, (lmk if i missed any!)
a/n: LOVESTAYBLOGS! i love you, you're so awesome thank you for the suggestion, i loved writing this one so much and i hope you all feel the same!! i just started writing... and writing... and i got here...
anywaysss... i have a taglist if anyone is interested!
enjoy reading! love you guys! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
The campus buzzed with life as students shuffled between classes, laughter and chatter filling the air. Amidst the lively chaos, Seungmin was a stark contrast, always found in the same spot in the library, his nose buried in a book. His glasses perched delicately on his nose, eyes scanning the pages with a focused intensity that rarely wavered.
You had noticed him for a while now. He was hard to miss, not because he stood out, but because he blended in so seamlessly that it almost seemed deliberate. He was always alone, a quiet figure in the background, diligently taking notes, rarely interacting with anyone unless necessary. It wasn't just his solitude that caught your attention; it was the way people treated him. Like he wasn't even there. He was just one of those people who never really existed to anyone, no matter how close they seemed.
That was until you saw him sitting at the coffee shop down the street, sipping from a paper cup. The place was packed, but he didn't seem to mind, his focus solely on the book in his hands. You watched him from the corner of your eye as you ordered your drink. Something about him intrigued you. He was so calm and collected, despite the bustle of people surrounding him.
You sat a few tables away from him, unable to take your eyes off of him. His presence was oddly calming. As if he had a strange sort of gravity, pulling you towards him without even trying. You could just approach him, you weren't usually one to be shy when it came to meeting people, so why was it so hard with him?
You must have been staring for too long because when you finally snapped back to reality, you locked eyes with him. He had this curious look on his face, his eyes searching yours for some kind of answer. He seemed almost amused by your sudden embarrassment, a slight smile playing on his lips. You quickly averted your gaze, hoping to avoid any further awkwardness.
To your surprise, he got up and walked over to your table. "Do you mind if I sit here?" he asked, gesturing to the empty seat across from you.
"Not at all," you said, trying to keep your voice steady.
He settled into the chair, his gaze returning to his book. You sipped your drink, stealing glances at him.
"Seungmin."
"Huh?"
"My name. It's Seungmin."
You stared at him, dumbfounded. "I knew that," you replied, trying to play it cool.
"You were staring at me, it's only fair you tell me your name," he said, not looking up from his book.
You exchanged your name with him, a flush creeping across your cheeks.
"Why are you here alone? I usually see you with other people." He said with a perplexed look on his face.
You let out a nervous laugh. "Ah, so you've seen me often I assume?"
"You're hard to miss, on this small campus, with your loud friends."
Your heart skipped a beat, a strange sense of validation washing over you.
"Well, we were supposed to meet here, but they all ditched me. So I'm alone, like you."
"I don't mind being alone."
"Oh. Well, neither do I."
There was a brief moment of silence as the two of you sat there, trying to figure out what to say next. You decided to break the tension by asking him a question that had been burning in the back of your mind.
"Do you really hate everyone here, or is that just an act?"
He looked up at you, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "What makes you think I hate everyone?"
"I don't know, just from whispers..." you trailed off.
"Whispers can be misleading," he said with a smirk. "What about you? Are the rumors about you true?"
"Rumors?" You tilted your head, genuinely confused.
"That you're a bit out there."
You couldn't help but chuckle at his choice of words. "Out there? What's that supposed to mean?"
He shrugged, his expression unreadable.
"If you're talking about me being bold and forward, then yeah, that's just who I am. Nothing more, nothing less."
He nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"It's not like I go around telling people that I'm a virgin," you said, rolling your eyes.
Seungmin nearly spit out his coffee, coughing and clearing his throat.
"What?" you asked, trying to hide your amusement.
"I-it's just that, well, you seem like the type to-" he stuttered, his cheeks flushing a bright shade of red.
"The type to what?" you challenged, leaning forward, your elbows resting on the table.
"You know, someone who has a lot of experience, maybe." He said, looking down at his cup.
You leaned back in your chair, letting out a laugh. "You're cute."
Seungmin's cheeks flushed even more.
"I'll have you know that I'm actually pretty inexperienced."
"Really?" he asked, looking skeptical.
"Yup, and I've never had a real boyfriend either," you admitted, a blush spreading across your own cheeks. "Maybe some fake campus couple rumors, but that's it."
Seungmin nodded slowly, still looking unconvinced.
"You don't believe me, do you?" you asked, crossing your arms.
"It's just hard to imagine that someone like you, well, wouldn't be with anyone."
You sighed, resting your chin on your hand. "Maybe it's because I haven't met the right person, nobody wants the label these days."
Seungmin frowned, nodding in agreement.
"Do you want it? The label, I mean," he asked, meeting your gaze.
You considered his question for a moment before responding.
"I do, I want someone who's not afraid to commit to me."
The two of you locked eyes for a moment. "I... hope you find what you're looking for," Seungmin said softly.
You blushed at his response, unsure of what else to say.
The sound of the coffee shop door opening and closing, made you jump, breaking the moment you two shared.
Then your heart dropped, it was one of your friends, the biggest gossiper on campus.
"Shit," you muttered, hiding your face in your hands.
"What's wrong?" Seungmin asked, looking around in confusion.
You lowered your voice to a whisper, "If she sees us together, she's gonna tell everyone I'm messing with you now. She has the biggest mouth on this campus."
"Well, that doesn't seem too bad. Is it that terrible to have people think we're dating?"
Your head snapped up in shock, taken aback by his reaction. "It is for someone like you... You hate attention and it'll get so much worse if she spreads something."
He shrugged, not seeming to care. "It's fine. If she wants to think that we're dating, then let her. If she thinks we're together, people will stop spreading rumors about you."
Your face turned red, suddenly feeling shy.
"What about you? How will this benefit you?" you asked.
He thought about it for a moment before answering, "Well, maybe it would be nice to have someone who isn't afraid to talk to me."
You let out a small laugh. "Well then, Seungmin, would you like to be my boyfriend?"
His eyes widened, looking like a deer caught in headlights. He stared at you, unsure of how to respond.
"L-Like a fake boyfriend! That's what I meant!" You quickly said, saving yourself.
You felt like you were on the verge of passing out. This wasn't supposed to be a serious thing. You two were just trying to save your reputations. Why did the idea of him being your boyfriend sound so... good?
"You're okay with this, right? If not we can call it off," you asked him, nervousness apparent in your tone.
Seungmin nodded, still looking slightly dazed.
You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You couldn't believe you were doing this.
"Alright, let's start simple, no big PDA. Just normal stuff," you said, your hands beginning to sweat.
"Right," he replied, looking as nervous as you felt.
You both fell silent, neither of you knowing what to say.
You sighed, taking out your phone and typing a quick message. You took a deep breath before looking at Seungmin. "We should probably get out of here. She's still lurking outside."
Seungmin nodded, following you out of the coffee shop. Once you were a safe distance from the shop, you finally turned to face him, feeling your pulse quicken as you stared into his deep brown eyes.
"I guess I should be going now," he said quietly.
"Yeah," you replied, biting your lower lip.
The two of you stood there for a moment, neither of you making a move to leave.
"Um, I left my number on the receipt."
Seungmin blinked, seeming surprised by your words.
You continued, "I just thought maybe we should have each other's numbers? For convenience."
He nodded slowly, taking out his phone. He typed in your number, your heart pounding in anticipation. You felt like a middle schooler with their first crush, getting nervous over the most mundane things.
"I'll text you so you have mine," he said, looking back at you with a small smile.
You smiled back, your stomach doing flips at his smile.
"Well, I guess I'll see you around." You waved before heading in the opposite direction, walking as fast as your feet could carry you. Your mind racing, replaying everything that happened in your head. You couldn't believe you actually agreed to do this.
Finally, your stalker friend jumped up to you from her hiding spot.
"Heyyyyy!" she said in a high-pitched voice, almost startling you to death. "So I saw you sitting with a boy in the coffee shop, who were you with? You have to tell me!" she pestered, tugging on your sleeve.
"Seungmin," you stated, hoping your voice didn't shake too much. "My...boyfriend," you forced yourself to say it, the word coming out strained.
"What?! Nerd boy?" She yelled in shock, eyes widening. "When did you even start talking to him?"
You shrugged, "Just the other day, he's sweet." You felt a sense of pride as she bought your lie, almost feeling bad that Seungmin had to suffer to save you from being known as some playgirl on campus.
"I didn't know you were into cute shy boys, wow, I never would have expected that from you! It's such a shame, but oh well," she laughed, her face scrunching up as she let out a high-pitched noise that was probably supposed to be a giggle.
She continued to ask you questions about your fake boyfriend and your relationship with him, all while you made up answers on the spot. You were just thankful she hadn't been sitting near the two of you. If she heard anything you had said, you would be fucked.
٠ ࣪⭑
The next day had come too soon, you didn't want to admit it but you were a little excited to play this fake-dating game with Seungmin. It was the most fun you had had on campus so far, and you had only been in his presence for an hour.
You scanned the room as you entered your lecture hall, noticing the usual faces, but there was one person that caught your attention. Seungmin, your boyfriend. The word left a weird taste in your mouth but a pleasant feeling washed over you as you approached his desk.
"Good morning," he greeted you with a small smile, a simple greeting enough to make you blush.
You grabbed his baseball hat and pulled it off, ruffling his fluffy hair out of place. The small giggle you earned made you want to keep messing with him.
"Good morning, sunshine," you said, pulling him into a hug, which was probably overkill, but he was so damn adorable you couldn't resist.
He stiffened, but after a moment, his shoulders relaxed and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to his body. The scent of his cologne surrounded you, his body warm against yours. You pulled back to look at him, noticing the flush on his cheeks. He had this look on his face that you couldn't quite place, almost like he was in awe.
"Aw shit, so it is true, I just thought she was fucking with me!" You both heard your classmate exclaim from a few desks behind you.
Seungmin pulled away and took a seat next to you. "How was your morning?"
"Boring, without you." You replied without hesitation. You could practically see the blush radiating off of his cheeks, "Cute."
He looked up at you in shock.
"Oh, did you expect me not to call my boyfriend cute?" You chuckled, patting his back.
He opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by the sound of your professor's voice filling the room. Seungmin quickly turned to face forward, but you noticed a smile forming on his lips. You could barely pay attention during class, your thoughts consumed by him. What were you doing to this boy, he barely even knew you but you had his mind in a state of chaos, what a mess this is going to be.
After class, you noticed a bunch of people were staring at you two, whispering about your supposed relationship. It seemed the word had gotten out faster than you thought. Seungmin gave you a reassuring smile, squeezing your hand to calm you. The two of you walked out of class hand in hand, like a real couple, but of course it was fake.
You headed for your next class, but not before he told you he had a project he needed to work on so the two of you went your separate ways, parting with a wave. You found your mind drifting back to the warmth of his hand. The softness of his touch and his gentle squeeze reassured you. How was it that he already knew you so well after only two days of knowing each other?
By the time you made it back to your dorm, you had convinced yourself you were going insane. What were you thinking, getting caught up in the fantasy of Seungmin being yours? You threw your bag on your desk, collapsed onto your bed, and let out a loud sigh. Your thoughts drifted to your next meeting with him. When would be too early to text him? You had already exchanged numbers, so why not make good use of them? You took out your phone and stared at your conversation with Seungmin, reading through the last messages. You smiled to yourself and sent him a quick hello, trying your hardest not to seem desperate. You threw your phone across the room onto your bed and got ready to go out with your friends.
After showering and getting ready, you sat down and checked your phone, smiling to yourself at his reply.
"Hey, you busy?" he texted you back.
You replied, "for you, i'm free" it was so cringeworthy you regretted sending it but you couldn't take it back.
You saw the typing bubble appear and then disappear several times before he responded, "I heard you're going to a party? I was invited by your friend because she thought I'd want to go with you."
Your stomach churned, this was going too fast for your liking. "do you wanna come with me?" you texted him, nervousness settling in.
"I'll come to make sure you're safe and you don't drink too much." he texted back. You almost laughed out loud at how cute his text read.
"don't you trust me?" you replied.
"Not when it comes to partying." he answered, and you could imagine him smiling.
"I'll come pick you up." He double texted, making your heart swell in your chest. You were getting a little too attached, but how could you not when he was the first man in a while to pay you this kind of attention.
"okay, i'm waiting for you"
You felt your face grow hotter the moment you pressed send. 'What the fuck are you doing to me, Seungmin,' you thought to yourself as you readied yourself to pick him up from his place.
You went into your closet, pulling out a few outfits. You couldn't believe you were going all out for him, it felt weird, you wanted to look pretty but not for yourself, not anymore, now it was for him. You didn't know why you felt like this, you weren't supposed to have any real feelings for him. But maybe you did. You looked through your wardrobe for the longest time before finally settling on the perfect outfit. You dressed yourself and checked your reflection in the mirror, satisfied with what you saw.
As you were grabbing your purse, you heard your phone beep with an incoming message, signaling that he was waiting outside for you.
You were filled with nervousness and anticipation.
When you saw Seungmin waiting in his car, your heart nearly stopped. You opened the car door and got in. His face immediately flushed, his eyes flickering up and down your body with widened eyes.
"Is this okay?" you asked, gesturing at your outfit.
Seungmin cleared his throat and nodded.
You laughed nervously and looked out the window, trying not to stare at him.
He pulled away from the curb, his eyes focused on the road in front of him.
He began to speak, "You look good," he said softly, but you heard every word, and you couldn't help but blush.
The car ride to the party was quiet. Neither of you said anything as the music from the car radio played. The atmosphere felt tense. It felt like you both had something you wanted to say but neither of you would. It made your stomach twist into knots.
Eventually, he pulled up to your friend's house, parked in front of her house and got out, opening your door for you. You smiled to yourself and grabbed his hand, feeling like it was the most natural thing for you two to do.
When you stepped onto her front lawn, the music blaring from the inside of the house seemed deafening. You could feel the bass vibrating in your bones.
You saw some of your classmates standing on the front porch, and Seungmin instinctively wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you close to him. You leaned into him, feeling yourself relax. You loved his smell. The mixture of his cologne, mixed with his own scent was intoxicating. It made your head spin and your stomach flip.
He led you inside and you immediately regretted your decision to come. It was much too crowded, people were packed in like sardines and you were suddenly glad that Seungmin had shown up, or else you probably wouldn't have stayed for too long. He guided you over to one of the corners, away from everyone else, but there was still so many people in the house that it didn't seem to matter. He led you upstairs where the music was less loud and people weren't dancing and grinding all over each other. You walked through a bedroom and into an open balcony overlooking the backyard. There weren't that many people, only a handful of people chatting. It seemed like everyone was downstairs.
You smiled and leaned against him. "Thanks for coming with me," you whispered, wrapping your arms around his torso.
"Of course," he replied softly.
You couldn't help but lean your head against his chest and close your eyes for a moment, savoring his warmth and smell. He smelled kind of like laundry detergent and soap.
You looked up at him, and he was already looking down at you.
"Are you feeling alright?" he asked.
You nodded. "Just a little bit of anxiety is all."
"I thought this was your kind of setting?" He said, lightly swaying side to side with you to the slow music.
"Not at all, it's overwhelming." you replied, trying to make out his face in the dim light.
He nodded understandingly. "I get that."
"Well, since we're here," he continued.
Seungmin gently put his hands on your hips, and you felt your body freeze.
He continued, "If we're going to pretend we're in love, we should make it believable, right?"
You blushed at his words. You didn't think you could ever get used to this boy making your heart race with every single action.
You hesitantly returned the gesture, putting your hands on either shoulder of his and letting your fingertips dance lightly along his neck. The two of you were in a moment, the noise of the party below became faint and all you could see was his face. His gaze was fixed on you, the heat of his hands was so intense. You didn't care about the whispers or the eyes on you anymore.
"This okay?" He asked, voice soft and full of concern, almost a whisper.
You nodded.
"If it gets too much for you just let me know and I'll take us somewhere quiet, alright?" He spoke into your hair, his hands gently gripping your sides.
"Thank you," you mumbled into his shirt. "I feel so much more at ease with you."
His breath caught at your words.
The two of you swayed back and forth for what seemed like hours. You felt completely comfortable in his arms. His hands rested comfortably on your waist, his thumbs brushing against your exposed skin. You usually had to get drunk to tolerate these types of parties, but here, you were completely sober.
You couldn't believe the boy in front of you was real. You thought this stuff only happened in cheesy dramas. You leaned back to look at his face again, and found his gaze already on you. Your face grew red at how he stared at you, as if you were the only person in the world. You reached up and ran your thumb along the line of his jaw, your skin burning with each inch. His face grew warm under your touch, and he leaned down, closing his eyes, resting his forehead against yours. He gently rubbed his nose against yours, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.
He opened his eyes again, and you could see his pupils dilate in the dark room, the soft glow of the lights outside illuminating his face. Your eyes locked with his and the two of you stopped swaying to the music. The music suddenly got louder as the two of you stood frozen. His eyes traveled from your lips to your eyes, and you saw that he was looking at your face as well.
"Seungmin..." you said softly, not even knowing how you would complete your sentence.
He closed his eyes again and tilted his head slightly to the left. You felt the tip of his nose brush against yours and the side of his cheek press against your cheek, making your entire body shiver.
Wasn't this all just for the rumors? Why did you want this so much? Why did your entire body yearn for him so desperately?
You leaned up, pressing a light kiss to his cheek. The moment your lips touched his skin, his body stiffened as if he wasn't expecting it. He turned his head so that his cheek was pressing into your lips and your eyes widened. He was giving you permission to do this, and he wanted to be sure you understood his permission. He wasn't expecting it, but he also didn't pull away.
Your heart raced faster, you leaned in to press another soft kiss to his plump cheek. This time his hand slipped around the small of your back to hold you closer and his eyes fluttered open to gaze deeply into your own.
His breath ghosted your skin and your lips parted slightly as you gazed up at him, eyes full of anticipation. His hand slipped into your hair, tangling his fingers in your soft locks. You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, allowing yourself to savor his scent and the warmth of his body. This wasn't fake anymore, this was too real.
Suddenly, you were snapped out of your trance, your friend's voice piercing your ear.
"There you lovebirds are," she yelled from the other side of the balcony. "Everyone was wondering where you were!"
You pulled away, Seungmin's arms still wrapped around you tightly. "I was just getting a breather." You smiled.
"Yeah? A breather in his mouth? I saw you two smashing your faces together just now. Don't be a prude!" your friend laughed and pulled you by the hand towards the door, Seungmin trailing closely behind.
As your friend pulled you into the crowded house, she turned around.
"And I told everyone that you guys were coming downstairs to play drinking games with us." She smirked, her words slurring slightly. She was already drunk.
You groaned in frustration and shot a look over your shoulder at Seungmin. He smiled sympathetically and you rolled your eyes as you walked down the stairs into the crowd. The music was deafening. People were dancing everywhere.
Seungmin took your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, leading you toward your drunk friend and the rest of your 'friends'. You spotted some of the boys you had a class with sitting around the table. Your drunk friend had set out bottles of liquor on the coffee table and you assumed everyone else would be drinking just as much as her.
As soon as you took a seat on the floor with Seungmin and a couple of other girls you barely knew, the first question was shot your way.
"So how did it happen?" A girl asked as she sipped her drink, eyes fixed on yours.
"How did what happen?" You asked, looking over at Seungmin, who shrugged.
"Your relationship." She answered. "You guys are cute." She added.
Seungmin's hand was intertwined with yours, giving you a light squeeze.
The rest of your 'friends' chimed in with their questions as well.
"So you two are like a real couple? Since when? Are you going out?"
"Can we play games now?" Seungmin said, giving me another reassuring squeeze.
Your friend poured the liquor into plastic shot glasses and passed them out around the circle. She turned on some music and told us we should all take turns playing the games. The first round was Truth or Dare. You watched your drunk friends giggle as they each picked on each other.
One of them had just dared someone to drink an entire bottle of vodka in a single minute. The guy, of course, obliged.
Everyone else was laughing hysterically at the poor kid who was struggling to keep down all that liquid. You were starting to regret your choice in friends, these people were immature, especially in their drunk state.
When it was your turn to answer truth or dare, your drunk friend gave you a sly look before asking,
"Truth or Dare?" she slurred out, the alcohol already taking her.
You knew you couldn't tell them you were lying about having a relationship. Seungmin knew that too and gave you another reassuring squeeze, bringing you out of your trance.
You picked dare and everyone started hollering at you.
She said "I dare you to kiss the hottest person here."
You looked around at your 'friends'.
Your friend leaned back in her seat, looking around as well, her eyes lingering on Seungmin.
"It's a shame," she said as she looked him up and down. "I'd definitely hit it."
Your entire body stiffened as the girl in front of you looked up at you, then looked over at Seungmin, then back to you. She took a step towards Seungmin, raising an eyebrow as she waited for you to answer.
You gave her a blank look as your hand reached up and cupped the back of his neck, pulling him into you. His lips parted, allowing yours to brush over them lightly before you pressed your lips gently against him. He froze.
Your friend's voice was muffled behind you as she giggled.
His mouth was hot and tasted slightly of minty toothpaste. You didn't notice his hand resting on your thigh, gently rubbing it, trying to calm you down.
You broke apart, you felt like your heart was about to burst, if it was all for the act, why was your face flushing so much? You glanced over at your drunk friend and saw she was staring at the two of you with wide eyes and her jaw open in shock.
Seungmin wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you to his side and holding you tight, trying to comfort you.
"Wow," the girl said in disbelief, "I guess I'll just take another shot, then." She said and quickly poured herself another shot, downing it quickly before standing up.
"Alright," she slurred, "My turn now." She announced to the group of drunken party goers. "Seungmin, Truth or dare?"
You turned to look at him and he was still holding you tight.
You spoke quietly so only he could hear, "Please choose truth, I can't take it anymore."
He turned his head slightly, giving you a look before answering,
"Truth."
"Okay, well then." Your drunk friend looked around the room as she searched her mind for a question. "If you could only have sex with one of the people here, who would you choose?"
"My girlfriend." He answered instantly, giving her a look as if she was dumb for asking.
Everyone in the group giggled except you and him. He was just playing the game like they all were, but you were both not playing. The way he was holding you made it clear to everyone that he wasn't going to say anyone but you.
"Alright then," she said as she stood up. "You can't do Truth or Dare without shots, so here you go," She said as she handed each of you a shot of vodka. "Now get to it," She slurred.
Seungmin wasn't letting you drink though, so he downed both of your shots at once.
How could he take drinks so well? You've never seen him at a party before.
When you arrived at your friend's house, Seungmin had said that he would make sure he would get you home safe and sober. But seeing him take your shot for you, "You don't have to drink so much, Seungmin, I'm fine," You whispered to him.
He looked at you with a worried expression. "You've been looking down for awhile now," He whispered back, his eyes searching yours. "You're not feeling okay are you?"
"Just a little headache, that's all," You tried to assure him.
His eyebrows knitted together, he then stood up and laced his hand with yours, leading you back outside to the balcony where no one was around. The cool breeze blew and he walked up behind you, and you immediately felt better when all of the noise was muffled.
He stood close behind you, leaning his head down and whispering into your ear, "Do you want me to take you home?"
His hot breath on your skin made your eyes flutter and your heart rate pick up. Go home with him? Is that what he meant? Or were you picking up the vibes wrong?
He didn't even know what was wrong with you and you weren't going to tell him, either. You weren't drunk, so there was no way to explain away what you were feeling. Your entire body was warm, and not from the alcohol.
The boy standing behind you was sending goosebumps over every inch of your skin, making your knees weak, your head foggy. You weren't sure how much longer you could control yourself, and it didn't help that you and Seungmin were touchy the entire day. You thought your hormones would die down at least a little, but they haven't. If anything, your hormones only intensified.
Seungmin turned you around so you were facing him, placing both of his hands on either of your shoulders.
"Hey, you okay?" he said, eyes full of concern.
"Yeah, yeah." You answered, shaking your head to try to clear the thoughts of his hands all over your body, touching you in places that made your head spin, but it was to no avail.
"I think we should go," He said as he took a step back, hands falling from your shoulders.
You immediately felt empty without him touching you.
He walked towards the door and turned around to wait for you to follow. He didn't ask any questions or demand to know what was going on with you, but he looked like he was dying to know. You turned around, not wanting to tell him the truth. You followed him back downstairs and said a quick goodbye to your drunk friends. Seungmin opened the car door for you, even buckling you in.
You didn't even drink, why was he acting like this?
The two of you drove in silence until he pulled up outside your house. You thanked him and unbuckled your seatbelt, but Seungmin held on to your hand as you opened the door, not letting you leave just yet. You looked at him quizzically, wondering why he wouldn't just let go.
"What's going on?" He asked softly, looking you directly in the eye, not letting his gaze drift.
You tried to avert his eyes, not wanting to let him know how badly you were craving everything about him. You bit down on your bottom lip and shook your head, looking away from him, trying to think of a good lie. You didn't have an excuse ready for why you wanted him. You had no excuse as to why your body was betraying you so much. You didn't want to let on that you wanted more, more than this friendship, more than these fake dates, more than you could ever have. You just wanted to have a moment, just one.
You swallowed hard, your mouth dry as you finally looked back into his eyes, knowing it was too late to turn back now.
"Seungmin, I..." You started but your voice caught in your throat.
"Just tell me what you're thinking." He said, voice low as he squeezed your hand.
He had a way with words that always made you weak, and you knew he knew this, too.
You looked up at him through your eyelashes, feeling your cheeks start to warm from his gaze.
You decided to let go. To give up control of the situation. To give up control of the emotions that were driving you crazy, and let them take over your actions instead.
"You wanna know what I'm thinking?" You asked softly, not waiting for a response, just watching him as he continued to watch you, not speaking. You reached out and put a hand on his thigh, squeezing lightly before continuing, "I want to know how your mouth tastes. I want to know what your skin feels like against mine, how you sound when I touch you in just the right places." You let go of his hand and leaned towards him, placing a hand on the side of his neck, the tips of your fingers touching his nape, thumb resting against his chin, "I want to feel your fingers wrapped up in my hair." You let out a breathy sigh before continuing.
Your fingers grazed against his neck, moving to cup his jaw, running a thumb along his lower lip, "And your lips," you said softly, letting out another soft sigh. "I want to taste every inch of your skin," you said, feeling yourself growing warmer with each word that came out of your mouth, feeling your arousal start to take over.
Your body moved closer to him, your eyes locked with his. "And I want you to do the same," You whispered. He blinked at you, looking down at you. You took in a sharp breath before you continued, your hand still cupping his face, "I want you to touch me like no one has before."
He was staring at you in shock now. Your voice was barely above a whisper but he was able to hear every single word that left your lips. His jaw dropped slightly as he tried to process the information, and it took you a few seconds before you realized what you'd said to him. You slowly withdrew your hand, a deep blush covering your cheeks, spreading to your neck and shoulders.
"I- I'm sorry, I was just teasing..." You started, feeling your body tensing up and your heartbeat picking up, feeling like it might burst through your chest.
"No." He whispered, cutting you off mid-sentence. He grabbed your hand and placed it back on his jaw, looking down at you with dark eyes. "What did you mean?" He asked firmly, eyes never leaving yours.
Your cheeks burned from embarrassment. "I'm sorry, Seungmin." You mumbled, "C..Can we continue this conversation inside?" You asked quietly, not wanting to get caught in such an awkward position by any dormmates who might be lurking nearby.
Seungmin immediately turned off his car, opened his car door, and stepped out, opening your car door and unbuckling your seatbelt for you as well.
"Take me inside, then." He whispered. You took his hand, stepping out of the car and led him. You led him upstairs, the two of you climbing the steps and walking down the hall in silence, his hand gripping yours tightly, his skin burning hot against yours. Your heart was racing.
You pushed the door open, revealing your room. It was fairly clean, save for some laundry here and there. You looked over at Seungmin nervously before making your way towards the bed and patting the spot next to you. You looked up at him as he walked over and took a seat next to you.
"So, about earlier," he said softly, eyes never leaving yours, "You said you want me to touch you..." his voice trailed off, eyes searching yours before continuing, "What did you mean?"
His hand found its way back on your thigh, slowly stroking it and making you bite down hard on your bottom lip. You didn't think he would react so strongly, but it's exactly what you needed.
"Did you mean like this?" He asked, leaning down, lips hovering right over your neck as his hand slowly stroked your leg, moving from the top to bottom. "Or maybe like this?" he continued as he began to plant gentle kisses along your jaw and down to your collarbone. Your skin was burning everywhere his lips touched. His breath was hot on your neck, and you were starting to feel your arousal grow again, the heat between your legs only intensifying with each passing second.
"Mmmh," You moaned, unable to control your voice, the noise sounding foreign even to yourself. You had no control of your body as you arched into his touch. You couldn't tell him how badly you wanted him to fuck you until you saw stars, how badly you needed to feel his bare skin pressed up against yours. But the words were stuck in your throat as he continued to kiss and touch you, the heat building inside of you, driving you wild.
"Why? Tell me why you need me to touch you so badly." he asked, his lips hovering right above yours now, his eyes searching your face, his hands roaming across your skin, touching every inch of exposed flesh he could find, making goosebumps form on your arms and legs. He leaned down, his lips inches away from yours, waiting.
You didn't think your arousal could intensify even further, but it did.
You didn't know you were capable of making noises like those that were coming out of you. Your body felt hot and heavy. Your fingers found his shirt, and you grabbed onto it, trying to steady yourself. Your head was spinning. He pulled back just a fraction, looking into your eyes with lust and concern, making your head swim even more.
You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his. Your hands immediately found their way to the back of his head, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and pulling him in for a deeper kiss, letting his lips part yours and his tongue invade your mouth, letting him kiss you how he wanted to.
His hands found their way under your shirt and he slid them up and over your torso, cupping your breasts as his tongue explored your mouth, taking his sweet time tasting every inch of you. Your body arched against him, feeling him pressed against you.
You broke apart only for air. His breathing was ragged and uneven, just as yours was. His eyes were hooded and he was looking down at you. His lips were red and swollen from your intense kiss, his fingers trailing along your jaw. You pulled away, unable to take his teasing touches any longer. You looked up into his eyes with a pained look. You couldn't take it any more, the throbbing between your thighs was almost too much.
"Well? Tell me." he whispered.
"Seungmin, I can't take this anymore." You mumbled.
He looked down at you in shock, but you didn't meet his eyes, not wanting to see what kind of face he was making.
"What do you mean?" He asked, sounding genuinely confused.
"I can't take it anymore, It's driving me crazy. I like you so much, I like your touch so much, please just do something," you whispered, still avoiding his eyes.
Seungmin grabbed your hands, pulling them off of him and forcing you to look up at him.
"Look at me," he said sternly, making your eyes flutter as you looked into his eyes. "Say that again."
"I like you, Seungmin." You breathed.
He didn't speak.
He didn't let you go, and you didn't make a move to get up, either. You both stayed frozen in place. You weren't sure if the confession made him uncomfortable or if it excited him.
You finally felt Seungmin move and your eyes locked with his again.
"Why did you have to say that, hmm? Do you know how long I've liked you for? And you choose to say it now?" He said softly, eyes filled with an unexplainable emotion as he continued to look down at you, his grip tightening slightly as he spoke. "How am I supposed to respond to something like that?"
His voice was low and soft, his eyes searching yours with concern, making your heart jump at how serious his expression was.
"Just fuck me," you mumbled, unable to control the words spilling out of you.
He looked down at you for a second, processing your words, his eyebrows drawing together. He sighed as he stood up and started taking off his jacket, throwing it on the floor. He slowly took his shirt off as well, his muscles rippling underneath the material.
He took a few steps towards you, grabbing your waist and lifting you up effortlessly as if you weighed nothing to him. You were thrown onto his bed, him following suit, climbing on top of you and looking down at you hungrily.
His hands worked to remove the remaining items of clothing on your body as well, making sure to touch every inch of your skin, slowly. You looked into his eyes the entire time he was undressing you, trying to memorize his expressions. He pulled away for a moment as he finished pulling the last article of clothing from you, leaving you bare in front of him. His eyes raked your body, taking you in for what was the first time, his eyes hungry and wanting. He slowly reached for his belt buckle, unbuckling it, unzipping his pants, pulling his pants off his waist leaving him in just his boxers.
You reached down to stroke his hardened member through the material, eliciting a moan from him. He placed his hands on either side of your head, holding himself above you, hovering just a few inches away. He bent down, pressing a gentle kiss on your neck, letting his lips brush against the sensitive flesh before placing another kiss. He moved slowly, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses as he traveled lower and lower, until his face was level with your breasts. He gently kissed the tip of one before taking your nipple between his lips, sucking softly and swirling his tongue around your hardened bud.
Your head arched back, eyes shut tight.
He pulled back for a moment, his hand finding your face. He grabbed your chin with his thumb and forefinger, pulling it back up. "Keep your eyes on me." He breathed.
His other hand slid down to your lower stomach and rested between your thighs. He slowly dragged the tips of his fingers up and down the length of your pussy, his fingers gently parting your folds. You moaned, his fingers lightly brushing over your clit before moving to tease your entrance, your back arching in anticipation.
He finally sank one finger into you, then two, his fingers curling inside you as he pushed them in deeper. He leaned in again, his lips grazing your nipple as his fingers slid in and out of your wet pussy, your body writhing in pleasure beneath him. Your hands moved to grab his hair, gripping it tightly. You closed your eyes and threw your head back again, moaning his name as his tongue lapped at your hardened nubs. His fingers worked themselves in and out of you, curling upwards as they left your pussy, brushing against your clit with every movement. You felt like you could come just like that. He looked up at you as his lips grazed your breast again. "Do you like this?" he breathed. "Tell me how much you love it."
Your breath was ragged as you moaned.
"I...love it so much... please..." You whined, your back arching.
Your fingers pulled at his hair.
Seungmin groaned, pulling away and taking off his boxers. "Do you like seeing how hard I am for you?" he breathed. "Does seeing how much you turn me on get you going?" He took your hands in his, and pulled them down towards his throbbing erection. He helped you wrap your fingers around it, giving your hands a gentle squeeze, encouraging you to stroke it. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against yours as your hand began to slide along the length of his cock, moving up and down with your strokes.
"Keep going. That's a good girl." He moaned, his hand moving to cup the back of your neck and pulling you in for a passionate kiss as you continued to pump him in your hand. Your eyes locked with his. You felt his lips part yours, his tongue invading your mouth.
Your head swam with excitement. Your hand continued to stroke him in a steady rhythm. He pulled back and looked down at you.
"Fuck me, Seungmin. Please, fuck me."
He reached for your hands and removed them from him. He slid off the bed and stood at the edge of it, grabbing your legs and pulling you closer to him. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. You moaned softly as his lips moved from your mouth down to your neck. He pressed open mouthed kisses along your neck and down to your chest, his mouth closing around a hardened nipple.
He moaned your name softly. "You're so sexy when you beg. I want to hear you scream my name, do you want that, baby?" He breathed. He leaned down and gently kissed your collarbone.
You couldn't hold back your moans as you felt his hands caressing your body, exploring your skin as they wandered along your legs.
His eyes locked with yours. You watched him, transfixed by the way he moved, by how gentle he was. "Fuck me." You moaned. "Please, please..." you whined, begging. You reached for him, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in for another heated kiss, your tongues colliding.
You moaned his name softly into the kiss. He reached between your legs, running his fingers up your wet folds, rubbing your clit as he stroked himself, making you shudder at the feeling. He positioned the head of his cock at your entrance, gently sliding his cock against your slit.
You gasped at the sudden sensation of him pushing himself inside you, the feeling making your toes curl as you grabbed at the sheets, your body writhing beneath him. Your eyes met his again as he began to thrust slowly, his thrusts gentle and languid as he eased himself inside of you, stretching your pussy, your walls hugging his length as he slowly worked his way deeper. He grabbed your hand and placed it over your head.
You moaned softly as he thrust inside of you, his eyes locked with yours. "How do I feel inside you?" He groaned, his hips stilling.
"So big... you fill me so well. Please don't stop. Please," You whined.
His hand reached for yours, pulling it away from his head. He slid your hand between you, letting your fingers brush against his chest as you continued to fuck yourself with him.
"Do you like this, baby?" He asked as your fingers found his abs and slid across them. His hands roamed over your body, squeezing your tits and pulling at your nipples.
Your head arched back.
"Yes... Yes... so good..." you moaned as his hips rolled against your body. His hands moved from your breasts, down your stomach to your clit. He rubbed small circles over it as he thrust slowly inside you, your body shivering at his touch.
He kept thrusting slowly as your eyes met. His hand found your hair, running his fingers through it. He gently grabbed it, tugging your head to the side, exposing your neck to his lips.
You moaned. "I'm close, please don't stop..." you moaned, your voice breaking slightly. You could feel the familiar build-up starting, your muscles tightening.
He bit down hard on your neck before pulling out of you. He didn't stop moving. He continued to push inside you as your walls began to clench around his cock. You let out a cry as the pressure built. He pressed a kiss to the sensitive flesh before leaning over and nuzzling his face into your neck.
"Come for me. Let me hear your beautiful voice when you come for me." He whispered in your ear, his voice strained with need, his breath hot on your skin. You cried out his name as you reached your peak, your entire body tensing.
He bit down hard on your neck as his body tensed against you, his cock twitching deep inside your pussy as you felt him cum in you. He thrust deep inside of you, you both riding out each other's orgasms.
His body stilled above you, and he kissed your lips gently before rolling onto his side and pulling you against him, letting your head rest on his chest as he ran his hand up and down your back. Your breathing was ragged as you laid there. Your body was sore, and you were sure he'd bruised you, but it felt good, really good. You didn't know you were capable of letting yourself feel like this. You felt Seungmin kiss your head, his lips gently moving across your skin. He let out a contented sigh as he held you close to him.
"You okay?" He asked, his voice quiet. "Sorry, I got carried away."
He said, his shy demeanor all of a sudden coming back. The whiplash scared you. You leaned away, looking him in the eyes.
"No, don't apologize. It was good, really good." you breathed. "Thank you." you smiled shyly.
He kissed your lips gently and pulled away.
"But, I kind of... feel you dripping out of me right now." You said, a blush on your face as you felt your cheeks heat up.
"Shit- I'm... I'm so sorry..." he mumbled. He slid off the bed, pulling his pants on and throwing you your shirt before walking towards the bathroom.
You couldn't help but giggle at the situation you both were in, "It's okay, it was amazing."
"I'm still cleaning you up," Seungmin mumbled.
He disappeared into the bathroom. A few minutes later he walked out, carrying a wet washcloth and some tissues.
You quickly pulled the shirt on, and then let him clean you up with the washcloth before he took the used tissues and threw them in the trash. He walked back over to you, sitting on the edge of the bed, his fingers gently running up your thigh.
"Are you okay?" He asked, concern written on his face.
"I'm okay," You assured him, nodding slightly. You pulled him in for a quick kiss and leaned back against the pillow again. "Just a bit tired," you admitted.
Seungmin climbed on the bed with you and laid down, pulling you to him so that your head was resting on his chest. "Get some rest, let's talk tomorrow."
"Thank you," You whispered softly, pressing another kiss to his chest.
You felt your body relax, the fatigue hitting you as your eyelids began to grow heavy. You nuzzled closer to Seungmin, wrapping your arm around his waist and holding him close, the heat of his body against your own warming your skin. He let his fingers run through your hair, massaging your scalp. The two of you stayed silent for a while, both lost in thought as your mind wandered, and you felt your body relax as your thoughts slowly drifted off, and you fell asleep.
٠ ࣪⭑
Your eyes slowly opened, squinting slightly as the sunlight peeked through the window and onto your face, blinding you for a moment before your eyes adjusted. You looked down to see that your head was resting on Seungmin's chest, your arms wrapped around his waist and his hand running through your hair. You took in a deep breath, letting the sweet smell of his cologne wash over you. It smelled wonderful.
You glanced up to see that he was staring at you, his eyes searching your face for signs of discomfort. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" He whispered softly. You smiled slightly as he stroked your cheek and nodded slightly.
"I'm fine," you said. "Just a bit sore."
"I made you breakfast while you were sleeping." He smiled, his eyes twinkling. He moved his hand from your cheek and gestured towards the food he had made for you.
You glanced up at him and smiled, a warm feeling spreading across your chest. He smiled back, and you couldn't help but reach out to kiss him. He pulled back from the kiss, his eyes still searching yours.
"Wait, so did we actually officially get together last night, or was that also just a part of the act?" He asked, genuine concern on his face.
You blushed as the events of last night came flooding back to you, causing a slight blush to creep across your cheeks. He was so cute you couldn't help but laugh.
"I like you, Seungmin." You breathed.
You could see a faint blush rising up on his cheeks as he looked at you, his eyes widening slightly before a shy smile crossed his lips.
"So that's a yes then?" He asked, smiling down at you, his eyes searching your face. You smiled at him, leaning forward and kissing his cheek, making him blush even more.
He glanced away from you, his smile widening slightly. "I like you too. I want you to be mine, my real girlfriend," he mumbled shyly.
The sound of his words sent a shiver through you as you realized this was all real and not just some dream.
His eyes widened as he looked at you, and you could feel yourself blush. You looked away from him, your cheeks heating up as you felt a slight smile forming on your lips.
"Okay, boyfriend, I accept your offer."
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
taglist for my beauties : @loverbangchan, @reignessance, @imperfectlyperfectprincess1, @armystay89, @ihrtlix, @jiyeonslays, @lovestaysblogs, @jeyelleohe, @celebration88
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cuppajj · 11 days
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[BAAU] A Letter to Espresso
Madeleine Cookie sat at his desk, a soft smile with a touch of anticipation curving his lips as he carefully straightened out the letter in his hands. The parchment was smooth beneath his fingertips, the ink a deep, rich brown, almost like the coffee he could nearly smell. He closed his eyes for a moment and let his mind drift. He could almost see Espresso Cookie sitting in his workshop, the room bathed in the gentle, golden light that filtered through the half-closed blinds. There would be a comforting hum of machinery working in the background, the quiet whirring of gears and the occasional hiss of steam created a soothing white noise. It was a soundscape that Madeleine had come to associate with peace and warmth and familiarity. Of time spent waiting and watching his companion work, of warm banter and concentrated ramblings where experimentation seemed to be all that the other cookie would see. He could picture it all so vividly—the way Espresso would pause to take a sip from his cup, how the steam would curl gently upwards as he savoured the rich brew, his expression thoughtful and his eyes focused on the task at hand. It was as if he was sitting right across from Madeleine Cookie. Reachable, where Madeleine could outstretch his arm to brush some hair away from the scientist’s eyes and glasses. Espresso would, in turn, shoo him away and out of his lab. Calling him a distraction. It felt as if there was no ocean separating them.
Unfortunately, that was not the case.
Even now, within the city he grew up in, in a manor filled with family, his aunts nearby and only a few rooms away, he still desired to return home. As Madeleine began to read, he could almost hear Espresso’s voice, steady and calm, recounting the details of his days in the Vanilla Kingdom. It was as though he were sitting right there, whispering the stories meant only for Madeleine.
“Things have been well here in the Vanilla Kingdom,” the voice hummed, “Raisin Cookie is doing well, her army of seemingly never-ending crows grows each day.”
Madeleine's smile faltered for a moment as the image of Raisin Cookie flashed in his mind. He had met her once, the mysterious figure with a cloak of tattered fabric draped over her slim frame. Her magenta-eyed crows had followed her closely, birds that seemed as sharp and weary as their master. Pure Vanilla Cookie’s friend.
"Pure Vanilla Cookie claims he's alright, but I know him too well," Espresso’s voice continued. "His smile has been strained lately, especially with the recent news of the other Ancient Cookies.”
Madeleine could picture Espresso now, his dark brows drawn together in quiet frustration. Pure Vanilla’s health had been a lingering concern for some time, a recurring topic in Espresso’s letters. With everything that the hero had gone through, the destruction of his kingdom, the amnesia, and the reveal of Dark Enchantress, Pure Vanilla Cookie would be the worry of any cookie who had an idea of the events that had occurred. Even Madeleine, with his distorted perceptions of heroic stories and beliefs, had slowly come to realise that there was clearly something wrong.
“We can all see that it’s getting to him.”
A kingdom of sugar snow, now frozen with its infamous sea of terror tamed. A once warm and courageous cookie in a thriving kingdom now a tyrant, and a sovereign that turned all that breathed in her direction into the glimmering gold that would decorate her palace. Once the dearest friends of Pure Vanilla Cookie, now twisted monsters that brought along terror and fear with their reign.
Madeleine paused, fingers brushing the edge of the paper. If only he were there, perhaps he could help in some way...But for now, he would have to rely on words.
“We’re trying to make a plan on how to approach the situation. Not much progress has been made.”
What were they supposed to do against cookies that held such immense power in their hands?
“Also, Strawberry Crepe Cookie says hello. Sincerely, Espresso Cookie.”
Madeleine leaned back in his chair, the parchment still in his hand. He turned the letter over, and then back again, as if hoping for more hidden words to appear. A sigh escaped him.
“Espresso didn’t say anything about himself this time either,” he muttered to the empty room. Surely it wouldn’t have been so difficult to write just a single line about how he was doing?
With a slow exhale, he turned toward his desk, where a selection of fine parchment and ink waited. He ran his fingers over the paper, choosing the smoothest one, and then reached for his quill. The ink, a deep blue like the skies of the Crème Republic, seemed fitting for what he wanted to say.
He dipped the quill into the ink and began to write.
"Dear Espresso," he started, the words flowing as naturally as breathing. "I received your letter today, and as always, it was a delight to read.”
He paused, staring at the paper as his thoughts settled.
"You tell me of the Vanilla Kingdom, of Pure Vanilla’s struggles, but you do not speak of yourself. I worry. Not just for the kingdom, but for you too." He hesitated, thinking of what to write next. The tip of the quill scratched the surface of the paper as he pondered.
Espresso was such a strong cookie. Stubborn and determined, with ideals and goals that never once wavered. How could he not admire such a person?
"I hope that you’re taking care of yourself, too. I will wait for your reply. But this time, tell me how you are. Because more than anything else, I want to know that you are well.
Sincerely, Madeleine.”
Madeleine signed the letter and, with a small smile, added, "PS: Tell Crepe I said hello back!"
For a moment, he held the letter in his hands, gazing down at the seal, his thoughts far away, back in the Vanilla Kingdom where Espresso Cookie worked tirelessly without anyone to tell him to stop and rest.
With another sigh, Madeleine set the letter aside. ————
Thanks to @darkfluffydragon for writing!! Go check them and their amazing art out! <3
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mrchiipchrome · 5 months
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W.C. - 1.2 k
a/n: I’ve been having so much fun dealing with migraines, a break up, exams and getting an eye infection that I’ve totally forgot to write, so take this as a sort of apology:)
———————
It wasn’t hard to be the best footballer in the world’s girlfriend. All things considered, life with Aitana was pretty good, amazing even, if it weren’t for Aitana’s incessant need to ask people if they were employed.
It started small, when Aitana first met your family in Sweden, she had asked your brother whether he worked or not, happy when he started raving about his work, happy to find someone as passionate about their work as her.
Since that interaction it seemed like she searched that passion out in every interaction she had, going as far as to climb over rows of seats in order to speak to people.
She was nothing short of a social butterfly, and you were her anti-social caterpillar. The Swede in you was drawn to the Spanish affectionate nature even if it was vastly different from your own.
Your tiny girlfriend was as much of a magician on the pitch as she was off it, her ability to simply vanish the second you took your eyes off her was quite impressive, but not very enjoyable on your part. You almost had to invest in a private investigator to figure out how she did it, the way she always fooled you simply driving you crazy to the point of oblivion.
Still, you loved her strange habits simply for the fortune of having her, having her in every way imaginable.
You loved getting to hold her even as she squirmed to get away, kisses raining down on her face after a long game, using your substantially taller frame to put some space between her feet and the ground so that she wouldn’t be able to get away.
———————
Your muscles ache as your feet thump against the ground, the last game before a small break one of great performances, you yourself slipping 4 goals past the keeper, all of them assisted by your wonderful girlfriend.
Still, despite your obviously tired appearance, you were still ushered away to the corner of the pitch for an interview, being handed a man of the match award for your efforts during the game. This meant that your girlfriend was left unsupervised, your tired mind mixed with needing to seem professional before the camera completely taking up all your attention, meaning you didn’t immediately notice your girlfriend beelining for the stands.
“So, how does it feel to be back in the squad after the hamstring injury?” The reporter looks at you intently, trying her hardest to stare into your soul, or that’s at least what it seems like.
“Yeah, I mean it’s always special to be part of this squad, I’m not even going to lie and say that it’s been easy sitting on the bench when all I wanted was to jump on the field and score again but ultimately I got through it. I’m really happy with the performance as well, my beautiful girlfriend assisted all my goals so that makes it even better.” You smile widely when you mention your girlfriend, seeing through half-lidded eyes as the reporter's smile drops before she plasters it back on.
‘No need to be unprofessional now’ you think to yourself, looking away from her in search of that girlfriend to see if she could save you from the creepy situation.
But in your attempt to catch your girlfriend’s attention, you see her about to climb over the railings to talk to fans. You know that it’s dangerous, not only because of the altitude, but also because you never knew the intentions of some fans.
Somewhere in the background you can hear the reporter speaking to you, but you don’t pay her any mind, simply getting more anxious the longer you are standing there.
“It has to be special to be back with your teammates-”
“Perdón!” Is all you’re able to get out before you take off in Aitana’s direction, your legs no longer aching thankfully enough.
Your hands latch around her hips, tugging her softly away from the railing like you would a cat that had burrowed its claws into the couch. Aitana yelps as she looks back at you suspiciously, her hands coming down to rest on your shoulders when she realized that she didn’t have any plan of escape, seemingly just accepting her fate.
There are multiple cameras pointed at you, including the social media manager’s, so you just know that the interaction would find itself on the internet by the time you would be sitting in the bus.
Strangely enough, you didn’t mind that fact all that much, liking that the world would see how much you loved your girlfriend, maybe it would discourage reporters from trying to shoot their shot with you.
“Hey there pretty lady, whatchu’ doin’?” Aitana smiles at you innocently, acting like she totally didn’t try to climb over the railings. She presses a quick kiss to your cold cheek, enjoying the way your face darkens a few shades, the red spreading up your cheeks like food coloring in water.
It leads her to continue, kisses soon being placed on every single space on your face, with you soon blending in with the tomatoes you were growing in your garden.
“You are very cute.” She whispers lowly, her eyes flitting over your face as she smiles, keeping the words between the two of you like it was a secret only meant for your ears. Perhaps it was, you never knew with Aitana.
“And you are trying to distract me from the fact that you were totally trying to climb up into the stands. You’re lucky to be adorable, because Jona is one more abandoned interview away from benching me.” You boop her nose, shifting her body around so that your left arm was the only thing holding her body up, her arms still around your shoulders.
Walking back towards the interviewer, her professional smile drops from her face the second she sees Aitana perched on your arm, but nonetheless you approach her civilly. Aitana smiles brightly at the camera soon pointed at her again, media training mixed with the attention she’s getting from you being the perfect situation for the camera.
“Hola, lo siento, this one was getting herself into trouble. Had to get her out, don’t want the gaffer to bench the superstar now do we?” You motion towards Aitana with your head, the girl still sitting perched atop your arm slapping the back of your head lightly. Switching her around again, you quickly put her down back on her own feet, Aitana’s arms coming down to wrap around your waist tightly, almost possessive in a way.
“Thank you for today, that was all we needed. Here’s your man of the match trophy.” You get handed the trophy, turning to your girlfriend to brag, only to find her gone once more, her small body shooting across the pitch to get as much space between you two as she could.
It was almost as if you could see into the future as she jumps up and throws herself over the railings, giggling madly along the way.
You start to laugh too, the high speed chase the biggest highlight of the day, because not even scoring 4 goals could overshadow spending even a second laughing with your girl.
And even though Mapi would be teasing you for weeks about the absolute lovesick actions that day, you wouldn’t have it any different, besides you had more than enough ammunition to be able to blackmail her for eternity, so it didn’t really matter anyways.
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