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alastor-simp · 3 months

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Such A Tease - Angel Dust x Female Human Reader Part 1/2

Requested by @lokis-imaginary-friend . This story is going to include a female human reader in Hell, also contain some parts from the pilot Enjoy!

**Arriving In Hell**

You don't remember the fall, but you did feel your body smack hard against the ground. Opening your eyes, groggily, your irises fixated on the blood red sky in front of you, along with some buildings. What? Getting up from your position, you realized you had landed somewhere in an back alley. Standing up, you slowly walked away from where you landed, and out of the alley. You saw more of the city surrounding you, covered in neon lights and pretty graphic billboards. What shocked you the most were the people. No one looked human anymore, everyone had either an animalistic or monstrous form. This had to be dream you thought while pinching your arm, but you were still in this strange place, so it was clear this was not a dream, but reality. Deciding to explore a bit more, your eyes gazed at your surroundings, trying to figure out what kind of world this was. Unfortunately, you had gazed at a group of tall wolf like men, who had caught you staring at them. Looking away, you continued to speed walk, but it was too late.

"Hey look at that one! Ahoooo!", "Heh, she looks like a good time." "I wonder how she will taste." The voices you heard from behind you sent shivers down your spine. Continuing to walk faster, you attempted to avoid them. "Hey girlie, wait up. We just wanna talk to you, right boys? "Right" Looking back, you saw the sadistic looks on their faces, making your skin crawl. Your legs when from walking to running, as you sped down the road in front of you. "GET HER!!!" a loud voice bellowed behind you, and the multiple sounds of feet clattering behind you. You moved swiftly, taking many left and right turns to try to avoid them, but they were still tailing behind you.

"SCREEECHHHH" The sound of a car screeching, stopped you in your tracks, and a white limo had whipped up right in front of you. The door flew open, and you heard a feminine voice yell out "GET IN!" as they grabbed your arm and pulled you inside. The limo then sped off, and away from the creepy wolf men. It took you a while to catch your breath, playing a hand on your chest. "Are you okay?" the same voice that had told you to get in appeared next to you. Turning your head, you saw a blonde girl with red dotted cheeks next to you, sitting on her knees. She was wearing a pinkish suit with a black bowtie. Her hand was placed on your shoulder, giving you a sense of calmness. Nodding your head, you said you were okay and thanked her for the save. She smiled back, as she continued to sit with you on the floor of the limo, making sure you had caught your breath. Looking around, you noticed there were others inside the vehicle. Behind the blonde girl was a lavender-skinned woman, with long white hair. She looked very intimidating, given how hard she was glaring at you. On your left, there was a tall, lanky man, with multiple arms. He was wearing a rather flashy outfit and black heels. He was very fluffy the more you looked at him, and the little dots under his eyes reminded you of a spider.

Having managed to calm down, you looked right back at the girl next to you, saying you were good now. She got up from her position, taking you by the hand, and leading you over to where the spider man was sitting. She had sat back down, next to the white hair girl. "Ohh I'm sorry! I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Charlie Morningstar! It's a pleasure to meet you." She smiled at you, brightly. You swear you thought you saw sparkles flying behind her. She then pointed to the girl next to her: "This is Vaggie. my girlfriend. And the one next to you is Angel Dust." You nodded your head at Vaggie and then looked back at Angel Dust. He was too busy messing with the car window switch to even register you were looking at him.

"Um...my name is Y/N. I do have a question, where am I?" Charlie eyes widen, surprised you didn't know where you were. "We are in the Pride ring in Hell. Are you a newcomer by chance?" Her eyes looked at you with concern, including Vaggie, as her demeanor soften. WAIT WHAT?!? YOU WERE IN HELL?!?! A million thoughts were flooding your mind right now, wondering how did this happen. Does that mean your now a demon?!

Thinking back to Charlie introducing yourself, the last name Morningstar rang a bell. "Wait your last name is Morningstar, so that means your..." Charlie smiled and gave a little bow while sitting: "Yup! I am the princess of Hell and daughter of Lucifer Morningstar and Lilith!" She said that so casually like it was nothing! Gazing at her more, you noticed she did have some princess-like qualities to her. She noticed you staring and asked what was wrong. "Sorry! Its just...I expected the princess of hell to be a bit more scary and devilish, but you're very pretty and sweet." She smiled widely at that, thanking you for the compliment.

"What about you toots? Why ya look like that?" a thick, Brooklyn accent had spoken next to you, and the feeling of an arm had wrapped around your shoulder. Realizing it was Angel Dust, you looked up at him, gazing into his miscolored eyes. "Um like what?" You tiled your head, confused. "Like that. Ya look alive." He was digging into his pocket for something, until he pulled out a little compact mirror and held it up in front of you. Gasping, you grabbed the mirror and looked at your reflection. Your face had stayed the same, no demonic fangs or horns. The only thing that was noticeably different were your eyes. They were now golden yellow with cat-like slits in the center. Vaggie then spoke: "I realized that too. You look more like a human then a demon."

Taking in what you saw, you tried to figure out how was this happening. How did you end up in hell, but still remained a human? This didn't make any sense. Is that why you were chased? Because you looked like a human? Letting out a sigh, you handed the mirror back to Angel Dust, as you leaned back, head against the car window , wrapping your arms on your legs. "Hey its going to be alright. I understand this is a big shock to you, but it will be okay. You can stay at the hotel too." Charlie had gotten up from where she was sitting, and sat down on the floor next to you, grabbing your hands. giving you some comfort. Hotel? What she mean by that? Asking her what she meant, she bounced with excitement, telling you how she was running a hotel to rehabilitate sinners, so they could ascend to heaven. Wow. The daughter of the king of hell itself was doing something like that. She really was a princess. You thanked Charlie, appreciating that she had given you a place to stay, which she responded back with a hug.

The limo drew to a halt, and then the doors opened. Everyone had gotten out with you being the last one. In front of you was a massive building, at least seven stories tall. A large neon sign was attached to it that read “Happy Hotel.” It was in a bit of a disarray, as what looked to be a ship boat was attached to it, as well as a carousal. It was odd, but kinda nice. Having entered inside, you noticed that the interior needed some work. The area was very untidy, with wooden boards scattered around along with some cobwebs. At least the couches were clean enough for you to sit. Walking over to it, you took a seat, as you watched Angel Dust head towards some sort of cooler, pulling out a popsicle. You noticed Charlie was sitting on some sort of crate, looking slightly upset. Angel dust made a comment about getting some more food in for all the sinners coming to the hotel. Well that clearly made Charlie more upset, as she sunk down further on the crate. You noticed Angel wasn't being silly anymore, and looked at Charlie with a sad look, but he appeared not to know how to comfort her, so he just walked away and sat next to you, munching on the frozen treat.

You watched Charlie dropped down from the crate and headed towards the entrance door, with her cell phone in hand, and went outside. Maybe she needed some privacy since that looked important you thought. You continued to look around the hotel, taking in everything. Your eyes then gazed at Angel Dust, looking up and down at him. He was very stylish given his outfit, and he was handsome even though he looked like a ball of fluff. He had a lot of it apparently, given how puffy his chest area was. "Take a picture. It will last longer." Angel's eyes looked down at you, smirking that you were oogling him. Embarrassed, you looked away, muttering a sorry. Angel's smirk got wider at your reaction and place his hands under your chin, making you turn back around. "Well, this body is flawless, so I don't blame you for looking, but its gonna cost you toots." He was so close, you could see the golden tooth flashing in his mouth.

"I was admiring your outfit. It's nice. Are you a model perhaps?" Smiling sweetly, with cheeks flushed, you pointed at Angels blazer. His eyes widen at that, before he broke into a fit of laughter. "HAHAHA! Nope, sorry babe! I'm a pornstar. A famous one at that." Oooo that made much more sense why he was so flirty. Your cheeks flushed more at that, and you twirled your hair with your finger. "Well that's kinda nice too." Angel just shrugged his shoulders, leaning his head back on the couch cushion. "Eh its alright. Pays good and I get to suck all the di✪✪ I want, so yeah, job has its perks." Oh, he was into guys. You suspected many women would fawn over him, if he were into them. The conversation didn’t continue after that and you just resumed sitting on the couch, as you noticed Charlie had came back in, with a red suited man, holding a microphone.

The man was at staggering height, almost 7 ft. His striped red suit fitted him perfectly, along with his monocle and bow tie. His hair was a sharp red, with black at the bottom, and antlers at the top. His smile was the most striking thing on him, it was outstretched to the point it almost reached his eyes, dang that must hurt his cheeks. His actions were very animated, with the way he moved and his voice oozed static like a radio. He was conversing with Charlie, saying some things about wanting to help out with the hotel, for entertainment purposes. Vaggie had taken a sit on the couch, where you and Angel sat.

“Uh, so… uh, what's the deal with Smiles over there?" Angel was the one who decided to break the silence. Vaggie nearly jumped at what Angel said: "I know Y/N just arrived here so she has no clue, but who never heard of him before? You lived here longer then me?" Angel just shrugged, not interested in what Vaggie had to say. She then went on to tell the story about how the mysterious suited demon was Alastor the Radio Demon, the most powerful overlord hell has ever seen. The story she told you gave you goosebumps, leaving a mental note in your head, not to mess with Alastor or get on his bad side.

"Ya done? Heh..he looks like a strawberry pimp." Pftt, that caused you to laugh a bit, while Vaggie was given a face saying she was so done. Looking back at Angel, you continued to eye his outfit and give a quip back. "At least I'm not the one who looks like a bubble-gum slut." Angel’s mouth gaped open, shocked by what you said, as he let out a "HEY!" Vaggie cackled at that, giving you a high-five, while Angel Dust just grumbled, and flipped you off with his four hands. You apologized to him, saying you couldn't help yourself. Angel dust was still annoyed, but he just said whatever, pulling his phone out to start texting.

You still observed the conversation going on with Charlie and Alastor, with Charlie refusing to make a deal with him, but saying he could stay at the hotel for as long as he desired. Apparently, that was okay with him as he said "Fair enough." He walked past both Angel Dust and Vaggie, humming to himself. Getting distracted, you didn't realized he had stopped in front of you. "Well hello my dear! Quite a striking appearance you have!" He was bent down, his face very close to yours, sharp grin in front of you. You felt nervous and began to fiddle with your hands. "Y-eah. I had just arrived in Hell, so I'm still trying to figure that out. I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you." Extending your hand out for a shake, Al gave a polite smile back, and shook your hand: "Pleasure to be meeting you darling!" He ended the handshake, smiling wide at you, before walking back over to Charlie.

Many things happened after that. The arrival of Husk and Niffty, the whole singing performance with Alastor, and then the whole blimp attack by some snake man. Jesus, it had certainly been a day. After Alastor destroyed the blimp with his powers, he invited everyone back inside for some Jambalaya. Thinking to yourself while walking back inside, you were still wondering how you ended up in Hell, but you shook your head, trying to remove those thoughts. Well, you were here now, alive, and at least you had a safe place to stay at, with some wacky residents. Was better then nothing, especially since they were starting to grow on you, especially a certain spider demon.

**To be Continued in Part 2**

Tagging:

@pepperycookie , @yourdoorisunlocked, @ghostdoodlen, @aceofcards0-0, @jyoongim, @saturnhas82moons, @unholycheesesnack , @luujjvi, @forbidden-sunlight, @pinkcrystal44 , @veethewriter , @rains-sleeping@danveration , @demoarah, @cookiekyo , @iiotic, @delectableworm , @91062854-ka , @alastorsgoldie , @themysteriousslenderman

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wincore · 4 months

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indelicate | liu yangyang

pairing: yangyang x fem!reader

synopsis: missing the last train out of new shanghai was not on the to-do list. however, your project partner liu yangyang promises fun, dazzling lights, and the warmth of a human connection for this festive weekend. perhaps even in the era of diamond and steel, the human touch means something after all.

genre: oriental cyberpunk, f2l, fluff

warning(s): swearing & several innuendos. also out-of-date jokes sorry guys i wrote this in 2021

words: 11.9k

a/n: this is just a rework of an old fic i posted here with another character! if you find any inconsistencies, it's probably because of that LOL also this is not a wincore revival but i did miss everyone on here !!

i. city plaza

Some idiot, somewhere along in history, decided to renovate a city into something so dazzling that the population shoots up to a hundred and fifty percent of what was before, and the rest of the damage comes along with the people. Promises are made and broken to build this city of extravagance. You have the belief that the more people there are in one place, the more difficult it gets to live there. This dazzling hellscape means colliding into too many people on the streets, too many bright lights outside your dorm room when you’re trying to sleep and the god awful sound of deafening firecrackers at every new year celebration.

Another idiot somehow roped you into his ‘midnight adventure: traditional version’ once he heard you missed the last train ticket out of the city. Liu Yangyang has a terrible way with words—but he has a way.

You were, by some unfortunate gamble of the gods, partners for a project that accounted for sixty percent of the grade. While that affair is over, you still haven't rid yourself of the predicament that is Yangyang. Gorgeous, yes, but too overwhelming. You smack your head against the car window only for him to jump in his seat beside you, hand gently driving over your forehead to check for damage. The neon city lays around you, and festive light projections float across the sky in intricate shapes of the ox and written messages. This is going nowhere. You came to this city sacrificing everything and yet suddenly, everything’s hanging on a string again.

The city lights of New Shanghai are cruel. Everything in this place is cruel.

Which is exactly why you’re in Yangyang’s car, parked by the middle level city plaza on New Year’s Eve. It is, in fact, illegal to hover by the city plaza on New Year’s Eve but Yangyang seems to either not care or simply doesn’t know. You forget the law doesn’t exist for rich kids. Out of all man-made wonders, rules are the most interesting.

“Shall we go?” he asks, voice bubbly as ever. Every morning, he chirps like the alarm birds outside your window. Yes, it has made you want to sleep forever at times.

“It’s just one night. And I’ll be with you, so you don’t have to be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid,” you snap.

“Not afraid of the dark either?”

You pull your jacket closer to you. Here, the cold streets of the techno-jungle make you shiver more often than not. If you dare go out without friends, a city so grand will inevitably drain the life out of you. Your body alone cannot withstand the dazzle. And—you can’t be afraid of the dark after you’ve complained about the lights.

You look at Yangyang and back to the cityscape outside—large conglomerative blocks of buildings, some hosting advertisements with the faces of inhumanly beautiful models and some with the ‘Happy New Year!’ text animation floating about in increasingly complex patterns. You see the revolving top of one of the grandest skyscrapers, a Dior hotel, not the tallest but certainly the most pleasing to look at. It gleams from red to orange like the pulsating heart of a giant metropolitan beast. There are more funky buildings to look at, some not even the shape of austere corporate skyscrapers.

“Do you wanna go there?” Yangyang asks all of a sudden. “I heard the lounge is closed off from eleven. I can call some friends and we can book a room though—”

“No. No way. I’m not going to spend new year’s eve in a Dior suite.”

He grins. “Thank god. It’s so boring there. Only models and businessmen and whatever freak shit they do.”

You sigh. Liu Yangyang is a whole story in itself. He’s rich and popular—a dream of many—but so few are as welcoming as he is. When you’re in that position, you’re bound to have a little metal seep into your heart. Some hidden part of you, however, tells you to loosen up when you’re with him; just let it go and have a good time. There’s no reason why you shouldn't. The economy is on a steep incline, the people are happy and no other city compares to this place. You could learn a thing or two from Yangyang.

He looks at you questioningly, eyes waiting and the curve of his lips still. You notice his platinum blond hair is more styled than usual, you can almost smell the gel on it, and for a moment, you wish you looked as good as he does. A dark leather jacket accentuates his shoulders, the plain T-shirt underneath not of the flashy type. He looks like he’s ready for club-hopping and you, anything but. If you knew earlier that you’d be by the Strip around midnight on New Year’s, you'd have dressed better.

“If you stay any longer in my car, people are going to assume we’re…y’know,” he states, quirking his eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure it’s illegal, though. Like, who thought fu—”

You were wrong. There is absolutely nothing to learn from Liu Yangyang.

“I would get out of this car immediately and fall to my death before I let that happen,” you retort, crossing your arms.

“No, hey. What an inauspicious sentence. Besides, and I’m not bragging but you should know I’m really good at using my assets—”

“Don’t say a word.”

The heat of embarrassment flows into your cheeks at his implication. You look out the window, weighing out the pros and cons. The scenery is so bright that sometimes it hurts to look outside. It’s not midnight yet but the main streets are already getting crowded for the processions; the sound of laughter and conversation ring in the air. It makes you somewhat sad to not be home for this. But as they say, living in a big city can only be done if you sell your soul to it.

You’re directly above the level one city plaza, the people below looking unsettling in the way they’re so small and far away—they don’t even seem human at this distance. You wonder if you look like that to the people above this, to the level three elites who sit on top of the whole city..

You look back to your companion, who’s transfixed on the bakery across the road—either that, or just really, really zoned out. Knowing Yangyang, it could be either. When you tilt your head, waiting, you find that he has pretty features—a shaped nose and round, curious eyes, all in perfect alignment with plump, pink lips. His metallic ring earrings shine when the light hits them right. No wonder you get girls asking how close the two of you are often. Even in a world pushing manufactured love, boys like him make others daydream. You wonder why you’re the one he loves to drag in with him.

Yangyang flinches when he finds you staring at him. You clear your throat, looking away and hoping you can sweep this under the rug.

“Are you- are you by any chance mad at me?” he asks, a nervous smile awkwardly tugging at his lips.

“I- what? No. I’m not mad at you.”

“You look like my mother when I don’t clean my room. Or Ten's cats when I try to kiss them.”

A tiny laugh escapes you before you get back your poised demeanor. “I’m- I’m not mad at you.”

He smiles at you wordlessly and you feel a little conscious. You glance outside when the plaza music starts to get loud and look back at him, debating whether you should just give in.

“So… you’ll let me brighten your life now?” he asks in his regular baritone, grinning wider. “The semester’s over and it’s festival time! I bring good luck, I promise.”

Liu Yangyang is not a happy serendipity. He simply cannot be. However, he does make you laugh more often than you’d admit.

“Whatever. Go ahead. I just don’t want to be hungover on a Friday.”

“You don’t- you don’t have to drink to have a good time.” He laughs. “I would know. I’m sort of a lightweight. I don’t know why I told you that. I’m supposed to be cool.”

You giggle, taking a moment to think.

“Fine then. Show me your magical access key to our beloved Mobius Strip, the mightiest, grandest structure in all of New Shanghai.”

“Well, if you put it that way… I am pretty cool, huh?”

His smile is too harmless for you to roll your eyes. He’s too gentle, you realize all of sudden, to be as awful as all the uni frat boys you’ve had the misfortune of talking to. You watch him as he drives; his arm moves with ease and he tries to make conversation but you can only hum and respond in singular words. The closer you are to the Strip the more nervous you get. It’s like visiting all those dark places that your mother explicitly warned you not to visit as a teenager—but you’re an adult now. No one owns you. No one should be able to own you. The determination builds up slowly over neon lights and hazy street shops.

Nights here are the fun part. Everyone says that. Other than the fact that you can barely make out the colour of the sky under the vivid city lights, there’s something very enticing about the streets, the upper streets that wind around the city.

Yangyang drives the car to a level three street, the behemoth structure of the Strip now so close that all you can see beyond your window are its placid, white walls stretching out to infinity. You can see little gardens and shops, peeking out from between each strip and one of the shopkeepers wave at you the moment you pass. Yangyang says something along the lines of “thanks for the free noodles” to the woman, before gliding higher.

“Grandma makes the best glass noodles here,” he says, excitedly. “I’ll take you sometime. If you like.”

You hum, noting the joy he expresses at the idea of something so simple.

Level three streets are already thousand and a half feet above the ground. You try not to look down; heights aren’t something you’re very fond of even if you love the sky. You note construction work for street levels four and five, shivering at the idea. The winds of change are fucking cold.

Yangyang swerves the car off-road at one point and you clutch his arm by reflex.

“What the fuck? Don’t do that without warning me,” you say, breathing quicker. You do not do well with: sudden movement, jumpscares and boys with pretty smiles.

“Sorry,” he says, looking at you with concern. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You let go of his arm, more embarrassed at yourself than mad at him. Driving the car closer to the Strip, he brakes carefully by the parking lot. The walls are covered in red wallpaper, a few lanterns attached to drones, floating along the path inside. It looks like a rooftop parking lot, though the mysterious dim lighting makes you walk closer to Yangyang.

“I heard this is gonna be a really cool event—they’ve got the latest AI tech hosting and crap but let me tell you the best part.”

He pauses for dramatic effect.

“The food!” He says, spreading his arms and grinning. “The food at private events is the best thing you’ll ever taste.”

You open your mouth but close it again in part horror, part confusion. “You’re… taking me to a private event?”

“Ah, don’t look like that. It’s really fun, promise.”

“I’m not even dressed for it,” you blurt, embarrassed.

Yangyang shakes his head. “Don’t worry about that. It’s for rich kids, you know? If I’m being honest, none of them know how to dress.”

His confident statement gets a giggle out of you and you relax a little. You walk with him, further into the square platform and away from the cars. The sky disappears behind the dark roof and for a moment, you feel like you’ve entered a different dimension. It’s like the architecture models that your professors had on display for the Shanghai History class in your freshman year. Old stuff, that is. Before this place even had the first skyscraper.

You turn to your side and narrow your eyes at Yangyang, suddenly wondering how he finagled his way into bringing you here. Your iron-clad will is not so much iron after all. It’s not even steel, you think, once you catch yourself staring at Yangyang a bit too long.

You step forward to find the entrance to the club; it’s a little lonely to look at in the beginning. Then it clicks that it’s probably the back door. The red pillars encase a black door between them, the overhang of the gateway just a little above Yangyang’s head. You can see the hip-and-gable style roof of the larger building behind, looking like a skyscraper instead of the usual historical buildings you’ve seen on the internet. In glowing red letters, it displays a blinking ‘Club 2’ near the top of the door.

The moment you step on the stairs, a bunch of advertisements pop up on the door, bright bubblegum colours hurting your eyes. Yangyang taps at the little x at the corner of the display till it disappears and finally the door is a regular door. The colour is jet black like any other screening platform.

“I thought the rich were exempted from ads,” you say.

“They’re… more likely to buy things though.”

You make an ‘ah’ sound in contemplation when a whirring makes you jump into him. A little spherical drone flies its way out of an opening in the wall and stops right in front of the two of you.

“Sicheng-ge!” Yangyang says, waving frantically at the camera.

The little drone circles around Yangyang’s head before stopping right in front of his face. It runs a scan before turning sharply and beeping at you.

“My plus one!” Yangyang declares, pulling you by the waist. “Or whatever it’s called.”

Your ears feel warm but you don’t push him off. The camera focuses on your face, likely scanning to identify your age and occupation. When it’s done, a beep resounds and the door slides open to reveal a dimly lit pathway. The main entrance is much brighter, Yangyang promises, but for now it’s just the warm glow of the lanterns, Yangyang’s neon red striped jacket and the mechanical whirring of some sort of device in the darkness.

“What’s that sound?” you whisper and Yangyang stops.

He pauses to think. “Oh, they’re Sicheng-ge’s drones. He’s got like a million of them. I'll introduce you—he’s hosting this club event, by the way.”

He smiles at you reassuringly. If Yangyang’s not bothered by it, you’ll follow his lead. Though, you do take more nimble steps and stay close to him like he’s your lighthouse. (In a way, he is, with all that neon shining on his jacket.)

You’re surprised to find a garden, but then it gets stranger when you see brighter lanterns in the middle area. You see figures and before you can react, Yangyang takes your hand and into the central platform.

ii. orchid club square

Yangyang was right. None of them know how to dress.

The two of you stand in the middle of a crowd, who are in fact dressed either for: a) an impromptu pool party or b) a Sunday morning lecture. You blend in somewhat well given the variety though Yangyang’s painted looks have attracted the attention of quite a few giggling, murmuring onlookers.

You clench your jaw in mild annoyance.

“This is a tour,” Yangyang whispers to you. “I thought… you’d like to know what everything’s about.”

You feel grateful to him for once. Having some sort of knowledge about what you’re getting into makes you feel better about any situation. A set of mechanical clicking fills the air.

A woman—no, an AI bot is the first to greet you. She has pale white metallic skin and her dark strands of hair are in a traditional updo. Her lips are imperial red, shaped in a way that makes her seem as though she’s smiling but also not at the very same time. She holds an extravagant fan by her face at the perfect right angle, the patterns on it painted to imitate an ancient cherry blossom tree.

“Good evening, everyone,” she says, her voice pitched up and enthusiastic. It’s a little funny to imagine metal so lively.

You smell oranges and lavender as soon as she flicks her fan once and precise.

“Welcome to the New Shanghai nightlife!” The bot continues jovially. “The oldest surviving city on planet earth, the birthplace of the human race.”

“You are in virtual space,” she informs. “It might look like a courtyard stretching to infinity but it is only an illusion. However, the club is five hundred and sixty one metres wide and six hundred and twelve metres long. It is large enough to hold twenty-one blue whales in a line. That is, if they still existed of course.”

She giggles algorithmically.

“Where you stand right now,” she says, turning her head in a swift mechanical motion to you and you flinch. “This place is called the orchid club square. As you know, only VIP access lets you in.”

You glance at Yangyang worriedly and he shrugs. There’s no way she could know, right? That was oddly specific. But then she moves her head left to right to address the whole crowd in perfect grace. When her movement starts to get a little too eerie to watch any longer, you fix your eyes on the garden instead. You have no way of telling part real flowers from virtual ones and even so—all of them are beautiful. Maybe reality doesn’t make things any prettier.

However, when you look at Yangyang, the thought gets tossed out. You shake your head, in an attempt to get rid of the image of his face. It’s a little too late to be feeling this way. Either that, or the night is taking its toll on you already. The day was exhausting, considering it was the end of the semester.

The AI guide’s chatter fades into something quieter when you move the club square. It’s a rather empty space, fitting for a rave or just housing large crowds. The decorations are for the new year celebrations, banners of the ox in auspicious colours and a few drones projecting the rest. There’s a garden of evermore orchids lining the area in a perfect square and it’s so precise that it’s pleasing to look at. There’s a door at one edge, similar to the one you encountered before entering the club square.

The music that wafts through the air is so gentle, you almost forget there’s a celebration. The beat makes it livelier and even so, the rhythm of your heartbeat matches it in a soothing sort of way. Turning around, you spot the musical ensemble. It’s another AI, peering over a guqin with trained habit.

She looks the same, except she wears an electronic mask over the lower half of her face. It displays a blue musical note made up of noticeable pixels. She has no fan—instead, her fingers strum the guqin rhythmically, programmed with precision and grace. The sound is accompanied by the woodwind notes of a flute, though you’re not sure where that sound emanates from. There’s also a soft drumbeat which seems to come from the guqin bot herself.

You gasp when a few painted goldfish float through the air, almost real to look at if it weren’t for the glitch effect of holograms. One of them swims closer to you, opening and closing its mouth in rhythm and you giggle at its face.

Yangyang laughs, long finger pointing at the critter in amusement. “That’s adorable.”

He looks like a little kid and you giggle at his expression, with wide, delighted eyes and mouth open in focused mirth. He pokes at the goldfish and it makes a bubbling sound, gears shifting in ticking time before suddenly biting at his index finger. Yangyang lets out a low yelp, retracting his hand before clearing his throat in embarrassment.

“You’re like a cartoon,” you tell him, in between laughs. “No way are you real.”

He grins, in that same way he always looks at you and you look away, feeling hot in the face. It’s too enamored a way to look at someone. But of course, that couldn’t be true—he’s Liu Yangyang and you’re you. Parallel lines do not meet, even if they’re headed in the same direction.

“I think you’re unreal,” he mumbles.

iii. club 2

The doors open to a rather spacious arrangement, with several tables one one side and a sort of dance arena on the other where people are trying to out-dance each other. The intensity makes you move further away from it. It seems a little too festive and you can feel the energy slinking away from you. The music is more upbeat but you suppose the DJ tried to make it sound more eastern; the result is pleasing. He wears a smooth black helmet with a neon red beat visualizer on it, with written SFX appearing from time to time. Two pulsing golden horns glow at the sides of his head. You stare at it for longer than you’d like before composing yourself. You’re very impressionable when it comes to parties.

There are two floors to the club, above the bottom floor itself. The other two floors mostly seem to consist of private booths, however, covered with gossamer silk that glow iridescent. A few floating lanterns sway by the upper floors. The ceiling is open to a midnight blue sky and the stars look much larger than you’ve ever seen them—you suspect it’s an AR mesh over the ceiling. A few light shows project little dancing dragons and coins over the sky and you find them too cute to not stare at.

“Wow,” Yangyang says, right after walking in. “Why is Dejun on the table?”

You look where his eyes are focused on, though it’s difficult through the crowd of people, and find Dejun and Kunhang in some sort of old anime transformation pose atop one of the tables. It’s surprising that they’re not the weirdest pair here.

“Now, bear with me, it’s going to be boring as hell till the countdown and the fireworks,” he explains, waving his hands around. “But it’s a good place to have fun and make friends. You know?”

“Friends?” you ask, a little nervous. You’re not very proficient at making friends and it makes you anxious.

“Yeah! Don’t worry. ” He makes a strange gesture, bordering between posing for a beer ad campaign and looking like a motivational speaker for the army, before furrowing his eyebrows. “You just have to be confident! I’m learning too!”

He lets out a sweet laugh and it makes you laugh in turn, hand covering your mouth so you don’t embarrass yourself too much. You don’t believe the words much, but the glow over his cheeks makes you reconsider.

“You look really nice when you laugh,” he comments, a bright glint in his eyes.

“Whatever,” you reply, punching his shoulder lightly.

Just then, you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder to find Lana from your ethical AI class, smiling at you warmly. She looks a little tired, of people more than the time. Like you, she is also a scholarship student—and not a day has gone when she hasn’t soothed your anxiety about your classes. In stark contrast with Yangyang, you would trust her over him for most tasks. Even if you weren’t partners, you’re okay with the outcome. You glance at Yangyang.

“(name)! Oh my god, I didn’t know you were coming here,” she says. “Did Yangyang kidnap you?”

“I mean, sort of.”

“Hey.” Yangyang looks at you with betrayal.

“And how did you even manage to do that cool ass project with him as your partner?” she continues, squinting at him.

“Honestly, I don’t know either. He can be surprisingly helpful though.”

Yangyang looks from Lana to you in exasperation. “I’m literally right here,” he grumbles.

Lana laughs at his expression, patting his shoulder sympathetically.

“I just can’t believe you let him kidnap you and not me,” she says in mock indignance. “I’m a much better chauffeur, you know?”

“Do you even have a driving license?” Yangyang asks, laughing.

“I got mine before you, rat. Anyway, (name), I’m playing the guzheng. Do you wanna come see?”

“No,” Yangyang interrupts, suddenly grabbing your hand. “I… I mean you guys can go, of course. It's just the countdown’s close, so we have to go to the viewpoint.”

“That’s exactly where—ah. I see.”

"We'll join you another time, Lana," he says quietly, a cute grin on his face like a little boy would make to an older sister for more shares of chocolate.

"No, no. I actually remembered I left my friends in the corner. See you!"

She leaves her epiphany unsaid, offering you a smile and taking her leave abruptly.

“I thought you told me to socialize,” you complain to Yangyang.

“Yes, I’m so proud of you for that.”

“Yangyang, I swear if you treat me like a kid—”

“I’m not, I’m not. Sorry,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “I just need to borrow you for tonight. After all, I promised you, didn’t I?”

You sigh. “Fine then, what’s this viewpoint you’re talking about?”

“Oh, we’ll get there.”

Someone’s watching you. You turn around a full three-sixty but find only the same crowd of college-age kids. No one sticks out much, apart from Dejun, Kunhang and Ten, who are at this point performing some sort of strange ritual unbeknownst to any new year tradition, with a hell load of yelling.

“Oh my god, you’re dancing too?” Yangyang says, grinning ear to ear. “I didn’t know I’d have that much of a positive influence. Wow.”

“I’m- I’m not- never mind.”

Yangyang furrows his eyebrows. “What did I tell you? More confidence! See—”

He takes your hands in his, pulling you further onto the dance floor. You feel a rising panic but swallow it. There’s a beat of silence in which the two of you look at each other. Yangyang proceeds to perform the stupidest sequence of movements you have ever seen, certainly too awkward for his body to accept as natural but it doesn’t seem like he cares. He’s having fun.

You find yourself laughing. Taking timid steps, you try to loosen up although the inevitable embarrassment arrives in flushes of heat across your face. There are stars in Yangyang’s eyes when you join him—not the artificial jewels in observatories but the real kind that you used to see in your hometown.

You take a wobbly step back. It’s starting to get disorienting. If it were the real sky above you, you might even have felt better. Perhaps the purpose is to get dizzy.

“I’m a little thirsty,” Yangyang says, motioning to the table with food and drinks at a corner. “I’ll head over and be back.”

Unsure what to do, you follow him like a lost lamb and though it would be embarrassing at any other time, any other place, now and here are not part of that.

The red and golden lights of the neon patterning the walls don’t seem as harsh anymore and you let your eyes rest on the boyish figure of Yangyang. You haven’t figured him out yet. Something tells you he’s more than a shallow image of the party-loving rich kids of Shanghai. In fact, in quiet, personal moments, he looks more out of place than you do—despite all that bright neon. You open your mouth to ask something when you’re interrupted by a dizzy Yangyang spinning into you.

“Sorry, (name),” he says, rubbing the base of his palm against his forehead. “I genuinely thought I was going to win that game.”

You shake your head, letting him get back to whatever spinning game they were at. He smells like wine and something tells you he’s poor at holding his liquor. The stakes must be high for that game, you figure, because you see Yangyang set aside his beloved shoe on the floor. To be the only scholarship student here suddenly feels scary and awkward.

Yangyang once again tugs at your arm, the touch reassuring as though he understands how you feel. But it isn’t true. There’s no way someone like him can understand someone like you.

“Yangyang,” you call. “Do you come here every year?”

“No, no. I do come for drinks though. I’m only here right now because a friend is hosting this.”

You shrug.

“And you,” he adds and you feel a hot flush rise to your face. “New years are the only time this place is PG-13.”

“I’m not a child,” you snap.

“My mom says childish people say that.”

“Then it's very rich coming from you, Liu Yangyang.”

He laughs heartily, leaning away. A creeping thought grows in your head that you missed out on a lot. But then again, you’ll always miss out on things if you’re not rich enough for them.

Yangyang flinches suddenly, almost knocking a plate off the table. He moves quickly, turning so that his side leans against the wall and the other arm cages you between him and the wall. His frame covers your view from whatever, or whoever arrived at the entrance that made him react so obnoxiously.

However, his lips hovering just a little over yours makes your breath hitch in your throat. This is the worst possible position you could've gotten into. The smell of mint interrupts your thoughts and you look at him with as annoyed an expression as you can muster over the heat of your face.

"Yangyang, what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

“I am… admiring the wall. Ooh, it’s got velvet over it, did you notice?”

“You’re going to have your head in it too if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

"Just… sorry. Let’s stay like this for a few moments."

He flashes you an apologetic smile, his face close enough to make yours grow even hotter. A nervous chuckle erupts from his lips.

"Oh my god, get off. People are going to think we’re making out."

"We could do it for real."

"I'm going to scratch your eyes out."

"Sorry, sorry."

“Who are you even hiding from?”

“I’m not hiding… okay, forget that. Bodyguard-watcher-dude. It’s kind of hard to explain.”

“You have a bodyguard?”

“More like a babysitter.”

You try not to laugh, considering the proximity between your faces. “How come you have a babysitter? Actually, wait, I think I know.”

He huffs over your face and you restrain yourself from landing a swift uppercut to his jaw. Now you know the minty smell comes from mouth freshener.

“He’s a prosecutor. It’s weird that he stalks me in his free time. Even- even if… my parents are paying him.”

“They think you’re doing something illegal?”

“No. I don’t think I am.”

You rest your head back against the wall, rolling your eyes. “Really? That’s your answer? God, your brain cells rotted somewhere along the way, didn’t they? It’s all those parties.”

“I’m starting to feel like my mom hired you too.”

He looks back, and noting the absence of his so-called babysitter, he pulls back from you. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath and you let it out in a shallow effort.

“Your babysitter’s gone?”

“Not a babysit—I regret saying that. Look, I really don’t think they appointed him because they think I’m doing something illegal. I have never done anything illegal. Except that one street race but that’s because Lucas told me it was perfectly legal.”

“The what?”

“Anyway, the point is, let’s look forward to good fortune for this year, hm? Leave all the burdens to last year.”

“Fortune doesn’t favour fools.”

“I’m not stupid,” he complains, spreading his arms to express it further. “Mostly.”

You laugh, turning your attention to the food table.

“Ooh, pineapple tarts,” he exclaims, hand reaching out to grab one when you smack it.

“You’ve had, like, fifteen already.”

“Mhm,” he says, with a few more stuffed in his mouth.

There’s a pause.

“It’s me, isn't it?” you ask quietly. “I’m not supposed to be here.”

He gulps, lips parting and closing. “I brought you here. So you don’t worry about it.”

Rich people suck. You believe that strongly. But sometimes, just sometimes, when you have everything you can ever want, you start to want the same for everyone around you. Some people are special. You find Yangyang genuinely fascinating for being someone who makes friends when he’s supposed to be making more connections. You find him fascinating.

It makes sense for someone like him to be the way he is.

iv. fireworks viewpoint

“That’s the old Shanghai Tower,” Yangyang points to a building in the distance. “It used to be the tallest building once but… well, it looks like the little guy now.”

Lunar New Year’s celebrations are a big, big deal in New Shanghai. It means a break from university, work and every other affair to have as many priorities sorted in anticipation of the new year. And the impact is evident from this height, when you can see the city in its golden glory. It looks warm out there for once—although you’re not very sure if it’s because of the warmth that comes from right beside you. The little wooden boats float by on the river a little far off, various images blooming as holograms above them. You giggle at the large animated fishes swimming above the river with blank expressions and painted button eyes.

The golden clock shines bright in the sky, its holographic hands ticking down to midnight. It looks like something out of a fantasy movie, scattering golden pixels everywhere with each minute passing. The size of it alone reminds you of the scale of this city.

This is an empire. It's owned by the kings and queens who built it over the bones left from sacrifices. It's going to be owned by heirs and heiresses. You feel a looming sense of dread come over you. It's so beautiful and it can never belong to itself. It must always belong to someone. It’s the terms and conditions of human creation.

"Hey." Yangyang taps you on the shoulder and you try not to flinch. "What are you thinking?"

You hum. "Stuff."

"This place is pretty cool, huh?"

That, you can agree with. "It is. It's so amazing that I can't believe I'm here sometimes."

Yangyang laughs slowly. "I hope more people can live here. Not in level one. You know. No one should live in desperation."

You hold back a scoff, though you end up frowning. What does a rich kid know of desperation? He might as well be prince, and princes do not know how to beg. It must be something of a saviour complex. You shrink away from him. The new year music is starting to ring a little too loud in your ears.

"That would be difficult," you mutter.

"Not if you lower the cost of living conditions—ah. Sorry." He pauses and you feel a flicker of surprise in you. “It’s not appropriate to discuss. Or so my parents tell me…”

The expression comes from empathy. You’re sure of it. There’s some sort of passion and not the kind of coloured fire that flames up in parties, but a different one. The kind that says, if you can’t bear the heat then you can’t learn how to forge. You scoff. Which prince has possibly known heat?

“I- I get angry too,” you say quietly. “I think it’s something to be angry about.”

He smiles at you, leaning against the balcony railing.

You’re interrupted by a man in the attire of a waiter and it causes the two of you to jump away from each other. It’s not like you were very close in the first place but the proximity of shared words can play tricks on people. The man offers the two of you a screen and Yangyang’s face lights up almost immediately.

“We can order food with this,” he says. “Or book a table. The top strips are all reserved for members of the club. That’s the big daddy restaurants.”

“That’s… pretty cool,” you say, leaning in to glance over the browsing menu. “But don’t say that phrase to me again.”

“I can. And I will.”

“Ugh. Move on.”

“Okay, so we should drop by the convenience store for some ramen. I heard they taste better in the middle of the night,” Yangyang suggests all of a sudden, leaning in further.

It gets difficult sometimes to not be bothered by him, especially when there is a lack of distance. You look at him, pause and then sigh. “Sure. I guess. Are those free too?”

He opens his mouth in sudden realization and grins sheepishly at you. You roll your eyes.

“Do you have money then?”

“Uh.”

“How do you not have money? It’s the New Year!”

“I… uh—”

“Okay, you don’t have to answer that. But I’m not paying for you,” you complain. “You could always ask your parents for some money. What’s the point of being a party kid?”

‘Party kids’—it makes you laugh in amusement—is the colloquial term given to the children of businesspeople who had a direct hand in the economic progress of New Shanghai. You would sell your kidneys to be one and it still wouldn’t be enough.

His smile wavers at your statement but he shakes his head. “If I call my mom, she’ll start scolding me again about how my apartment room needs to be cleaner. Blah, blah, blah. You know.”

“She’s right- wait, you don’t clean your room?”

“Don’t take her side, (name).”

You bite down a smile and he offers you his biggest one.

“Oh, that place looks new,” Yangyang exclaims, a long index finger pointing to the preview of a sushi restaurant. You glare at him, his face nearer to yours than you would prefer but his eyes are fixed like a child ogling halloween candy.

“Let’s go,” he urges, looking directly at you.

You furrow your eyebrows, shaking your head vehemently. “We don’t have money. Or bit-credits.”

He sighs, deflating as though you just snatched the candy right from his hands. “But… I haven’t been there before.”

“So?” You exhale, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You don’t have to try every food place in the city.”

“I need to eat,” he says as though it’s a very reasonable response. “I’m still growing!”

“Not mentally.”

He drops his smile, looking at you blankly. “You don’t have to get so smart with me, let me tell you.”

You snicker at the ‘offended’ expression on his face.

In the next moment, your attention shifts to the sudden crowd of people rushing to the balcony. Yangyang pulls you closer to avoid getting pushed by them, and you look around confused. It all makes sense when they start chanting the numbers, counting down from ten. You can only stare in awe at the clock and the otherworldly glee in the rhythmic chants. It’s like they don’t feel anything but joy at this moment. You let yourself smile.

The clock strikes twelve. The sound of the bell resounds throughout the city and the firecrackers burst into a thousand shades of red and gold across the sky. There’s moving images of animals, floating text and other animations which make the night sky seem like a screen. The sparks of the fireworks look like golden snow, or even happy little pixels.

You point your finger to the sky excitedly but when you turn, Yangyang’s eyes aren’t on the sky but on your hand outstretched towards it. He faces you, rather hesitantly as though caught red-handed.

“You’re- you’re… so pretty,” he says, softly and shrugging as if answering a question.

You wish he wouldn’t look at you like that. It’s the lonely speaking, right? The euphoria of human connection in this time and age—it can make you believe anything. There’s a myriad of colours blooming in the sky behind you, a city dazzling with diamond and ruby lights, people with much more stories to tell than you do. This city, this city, this city. This city will break your heart.

“It’s kind of crappy,” you mutter, to which Yangyang quirks an ear.

“Wh-what is?”

“This city. It’s got bright lights and fun and all those promises of success. But all I see are people desperately trying to survive. All I see are the same faces at the top and—I’m sorry. I’m getting carried away.”

“No, no.” He makes a vague gesture. “I’m listening.”

“We’re at their mercy,” you whisper. “My life is not my own. That’s crappy.”

Yangyang hums in response. “You're right. What’s the point of living a life that’s not your own?”

Looking at him again, you see the entire figure of his being against the fireworks and all the beautiful creations of the human race. His almost silver hair falls perfectly by his forehead, the contact lenses looking like glazed frost over his eyes. Just as vibrant and excessive as the city itself, Yangyang belongs here. This is his kingdom.

No, that’s not quite right perhaps. Yangyang belongs anywhere because he brings warmth. You're suddenly grateful he's with you because no one you know would possibly go out of their way to make you feel comfortable like this. You know Yangyang loves people and crowds. No one would do that for you at the expense of their own enjoyment. You smile at the prospect of solving the blinding mystery that he is.

"We… should leave," Yangyang says, all of a sudden. He eyes a man at the corner of the balcony, dressed in a business suit and looking blank. He sticks out like a sore thumb. You're not sure why he's in that getup.

"Okay," you say, not sure why you're so agreeable tonight.

Maybe it's the night. Sometimes all you can do is drag your feet over the asphalt and hope it'll be sunnier tomorrow.

v. two-four-seven convenience store

College boys are the most god-awful creatures on earth.

“Hey, do you always reach class on time?” Yangyang asks, eyes curious. He keeps asking a question every five minutes or so, trying to keep up conversation. You've already told him he doesn't have to. However, it makes you strangely comfortable to hear the sound of his voice periodically. You won't tell him that.

You nod, returning your gaze to the window, though the advertisements block your view. You can always try skipping the ad every five goddamn seconds.

It's your first time riding the train that travels through the Mobius Strip, and certainly the first time in a luxury cabin. Since it’s free for members of the new year club, you can heave a sigh of relief. You will never in your life, even if it’s genetically elongated, ever be able to afford a luxury cabin.

"Oh, that looks so good," Yangyang says, large hand smacking against the window to get rid of the colourful advertisements.

"It's a convenience store, Yangyang," you say. "It's got everyday ramen."

"No, look. It's a different brand. And they're giving a burger for free with two ramen cups!"

You furrow your eyebrows at him. "Well, I guess it's cheaper too."

"Oh, we can go to one of the upper restaurants too. They're free, remember?"

"I like convenience stores," you mumble. There's something about the lack of even lighting and crowds that made them a comfort spot for you.

“Quick,” he says, pulling you off the seat when the train stops.

“Yangyang!” you warn. He's so easily excitable that you find it hard to believe he's real sometimes.

However, when he turns around with his big puppy-dog eyes, you curse at yourself before you curse at him. Sighing, you follow him down the steps, his hand tenderly holding yours. Sometimes, you wonder if the human touch means anything at all in this diamond and steel era. Yangyang’s palm is warm against yours.

The ramen tastes awfully delicious on stolen time, and you would complain more if it weren’t for Yangyang looking at you with so serene a look. It annoys you and you try to grab his attention by waving your chopsticks in front of him. When it doesn’t work, you resort to swearing. You’ve never seen anyone respond with a smiling hum after being told to “eat shit”.

“Oh, this tastes so good,” he states, cheeks puffed with food. “I think I’m going to cry.”

“I- I think you’re crying because it’s spicy.”

“Oh.”

As usual, Yangyang pokes and prods at you with questions about your daily life, like you’re the most interesting thing in a city full of blinding lights, world-class robots and cyber-enhanced technology. You don’t understand how he doesn’t just grow tired of asking every single detail about you.

Apart from the fact that Liu Yangyang is most certainly an environmental hazard, some part of you cannot believe that he's truly terrible. There's something innocent about him, but all at once, something quiet and mysterious.

“Why are you always so curious, Yangyang?” you ask finally. “Why are you always running off to different places?”

“Because experiences never come twice,” he answers after some thinking. It seems to be a little difficult for him to articulate, deep contemplation over his features when he continues. “This city… all the lights and clubs and arenas, all of it will be gone someday. Like we don’t have telephones or those big computers anymore.”

You rest your chin on your palm, leaning in.

“This moment, right here with you… I’ll never experience it again,” he tells you. “We can have more midnight convenience store ramen sometime later but… each time will be different. I’d rather live now.”

You smile softly. “That’s a funny thought to live by.”

“Yours isn’t any better,” he says, patting your head. “Also, I’m like hot and young and popular and not a cyborg—how can I miss parties?”

You shake your head, laughing. He’s ridiculous. He’s completely ridiculous. In that moment, when you look at him, Yangyang seems to be smiling in a daze, eyes on your face.

“You look nice when you smile,” he says quietly.

"Thanks," you respond. "I should keep it a secret then, huh?"

"Not from me," he says, smiling.

Somehow, the extra minutes you have at the convenience store turn to a few multiplayer games and then, ditching technology, to an arm wrestling match.

"I feel like this game is kind of unfair," you say after losing almost immediately. He's clearly got stronger muscles. Does he work out? Probably against his will, you bet.

“My right arm’s a lot stronger than my left arm,” he says, before looking a little horrified. “That wasn’t a masturbation joke, by the way. I am so sorry.”

You roll your eyes. "Give me your left hand then- wait. You're right-handed?"

"That's not the- uh." He thinks for a moment, trying to gather words. “That’s not the reason.”

“I, uh, I heavily damaged this arm when I was a kid—don’t look like that, there’s a fun part to this. It’s made of titanium! And some other things. The names are too complicated.”

You drive your fingers over the arm, so warm and real and flushed red, anything but metal and code. You find curiosity blooming in you more than ever before.

“You know why I’m not with family,” you say, straightening. “But why aren’t you celebrating with your family?”

He gets quiet, thinking to himself for a few more moments. You almost regret asking when he answers, a hesitant sound leaving him first.

“None of us, uh… none of our parents can spare more than three hours. They’ll come in the afternoon tomorr—today.”

You can’t exactly respond to that very well.

“So all of us go hang out at the New Year’s Club.”

You frown. "But it's not a celebration without family!"

"We have new year lunches. And… it's the future. Traditions die. Very few grieve them for fear of being stuck in the past."

You feel partly horrified and partly dismal. "I… You could come with me next year, if you like."

You're not sure where the offer comes from but Yangyang lights up at the idea.

"I can? Oh, we'll have so much fun!"

"Slow down. There's a year to go."

Yangyang laughs. It's surprising the way he turned out. He must have gotten tired of waiting by the door. And now you know all the things about him that his parents don’t.

You smile at him, warming up to the idea of you and him as friends before scoffing at it again.

Right in the next moment, Yangyang dips suddenly to the ground, crouching below the table. You look around in surprise and fall to your knees with a yelp at the tug on our wrist from Yangyang.

“What the hell?” you hiss. “You’re starting to act really weird.”

“I- Sorry. It’s an emergency,” he says, but there’s no sign of distress in his voice. He simply smiles at you. Perhaps he’s never heard of the emotion as of yet.

“Your babysitter?”

“I say that once and on accident—yes, it’s my babysitter.”

You chuckle. He’s simply too cute at times.

“We have to be discreet now, okay? It’s like—what’s the movie called? Oh, Mission Impossible.”

“I’ve never seen that.”

“What? How can you not? It’s a classic! It’s got so many cool—ah, I’ll show you another time.”

You hum, staring at Yangyang’s facial features tense up and relax again as he scans the vicinity outside the window of the convenience store. It’s full of people, even at this hour so you can’t possibly know who’s looking at you from there.

Yangyang turns back to you. “Have you ever been to blue moon station?”

“The one with the pretty walls? No. No, I’ve never even gone beyond Strip Two.”

Yangyang smiles at you and right then, you feel like you’re about to resent whatever’s going to happen next. It’s in the ebb and flow of tonight’s itinerary, however, and you relax your shoulders just as he does a roll across the floor, looking back at you with a grin for executing it flawlessly.

“You’re so silly,” you mutter.

“I heard that,” he whisper-shouts back.

You’re not as afraid as before, you realize. The lights are absolutely mesmerizing.

vi. blue moon station

It drops a few degrees in temperature once you step foot onto the platform. You can see a bunch of scattered tourists, cameras hanging around their neck and a look of awe over their faces.

Yangyang takes off his jacket, shivering immediately but offering it to you nonetheless. When you refuse, he places it gingerly over your shoulders.

"Is that a…?"

"A tourist bot, yes."

"Oh my god, it's so cute," you say, crouching by the little red robot, a teal-colored smiley face popping up on its monitor.

"A lot of tourists in this station," you note.

"Yeah. It's very… visually pleasing."

That's true. The walls are screens with three dimensional graphics, immersive enough to catch one's eye. A single tree grows through the middle of the station, evergreen and alive with holographic flora and fauna. The sun shines eternally over the tree. It's so beautiful that you had trouble taking your eyes off it at first.

The walls next to you are currently displaying a walk through a fantasy forest, crafted by a visionary artist, no doubt. A blue butterfly flies past you and you stare at it before zoning out.

Sometimes, the lights are too disorienting. You start to feel dizzy, massaging your forehead when Yangyang brushes the tips of his fingers against your shoulder.

“You good?”

Yangyang crouches beside you with watchful eyes.

You nod, turning your attention to the tourist bot. It displays a plethora of information about the architecture of this place which you're sure no tourist will bother to read beyond the first two lines.

“You can make it do cool tricks too,” Yangyang says. “Watch.”

Yangyang pokes at it with his index finger, drawing a pattern over the screen. The bot proceeds to do an old internet dance, waving about its arms and hips. You laugh at it and Yangyang looks at you with the pride of a third grader with first place on their science project.

The colours on the walls change and you see the animation of a man and a fox, furrowing your eyebrows as you try to recall that image. They seem to be broadcasting fables through the holograms. You can’t deny that they’re pretty—glowing with auspicious colours and as animated as the real world itself. As if by compulsion, you hold Yangyang’s hand. It’s nice to feel the human touch real once in a while, especially in the overwhelming loneliness of city nights.

Yangyang looks at you brightly and right then, you feel less inclined to leave him.

“You know, I could teach you better ways to flirt than just grab my hand,” he says, grinning like an idiot.

“What?”

You move your hand. “I’m not flirting.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean that,” he responds quickly. “Can I please have your hand back?”

You shake your head, laughing. He worries you. Some part of you says you shouldn’t be worried. It’s not like you’re close friends. (Friends, maybe. Close, not yet.)

The night has a different opinion.

—

“Found you,” a voice declares, and the two of you jump into each other with a scream.

The man in the suit looks at you with a fatigued look in his eyes, hair somehow still neat though he breathes like his lungs are on fire.

“Care to tell me why you’ve been skipping my calls?” he asks after catching his breath. “It’s not like I wanted to follow you—you just needed to tell me.”

“I… I was busy?” Yangyang flashes a smile. “Kun-ge, I honestly had no idea you called. I don’t even have my phone.”

The man shakes his head. “Fine. Just head over to Jasmine for the night. And you can bring your date too.”

He gestures at you and you want to deny it as quick as you can. You do not, however. It’s almost like you’ve warmed up to the idea of it rather well.

“Okay,” Yangyang answers quietly.

vii. jasmine private lounge

You enter a lounge with the capacity of around a hundred people. Despite that, there are hardly five present. The walls are black with neon jasmines pulsating from blue to red. A grand piano lies still in all its elegance in the middle of the lounge, played by a plain white AI. It feels like an expensive place to be, and more so, it feels like someplace you’re not supposed to step foot into. There's a bar table at one side, opposite to the entrance which glows a hypnotizing purple. A flat lettering on the wall declares the time to be 3 A.M.

You and Yangyang sit a little too close on the artificially warmed couch, waiting for Kun to return. Yangyang reassures you that you haven't done anything wrong but the illicit outing of yours certainly says otherwise. You contemplate tasting the cocktail Yangyang ordered before finally giving in and find it pleasantly warm to taste. You take another sip.

“It’s a little strong,” Yangyang warns. “Don’t have all of—you had all of it.”

You shrug. Your throat certainly feels better now. This lounge is fucking cold.

"You know, Yangyang," you say with the warmth of confidence on your face. "You're a really nice guy."

He smiles incredulously. "Thanks. You're really nice too."

"And you're pretty decent-looking—"

"I know that."

"—and also popular. So why are you always hanging around me?"

"Uh, that's your question?"

You nod. Placing your cheek against your palm, you try not to sink into the couch.

"Because you're really cool!" He answers before clearing his throat. "I mean. I think you're fun to be around. You make me see things clearer."

"And what exactly are you wanting to see clearer?'

"You."

You blink aside your astoundment, straightening. "What?"

Your question is left unanswered because a man enters and sits across the two of you, a loud huff of annoyance leaving his mouth. It's not just his disposition but the architecture of his face that grabs your attention. He looks like an AI robot so perfectly crafted with coloured lips and flawless skin that you end up staring till Yangyang elbows you.

“He’s not an AI,” Yangyang whispers.

You furrow your brows and notice it is, in fact, true that he's not an AI. There are no ridges over the joints or hollowness in the eyes. He wears the same frost-patterned smart lenses as Yangyang does. However, it doesn't change the fact that the man is beautiful to look at.

“I’m never hosting a new year party again,” he mutters, sinking into the couch.

“It actually sounds kind of fun,” Yangyang interjects. “I can’t wait for my turn.”

“I’m sorry. Good luck standing at Longhua temple for three hours till midnight just to make sure nothing goes wrong. Without dinner.”

Yangyang makes a face at that.

"That's Sicheng-ge," he says, turning to you.

"Ah," you say in response, remembering the name vaguely.

"He let us into Club 2," Yangyang says, noticing your lost expression.

"I think Kun's looking for you," Sicheng says, eyes trained at the back.

His hands fidget with the dim blue buttons at the edge of the table, till a small compartment reveals itself under the glass. An old world-style cigarette is slowly pushed up and Sicheng picks it up. He offers the next one to Yangyang, who accepts it hesitantly. No one smokes tobacco anymore when nicotine is so readily available. Alas, human nature is to want things deadly and out of reach.

“So how’s Cat?” Yangyang asks, fumbling with the plasma lighter he picked from a compartment on the side.

Sicheng smiles a little, the smoke from his cigarette snaking around him as he raises a hand to dissipate it.

“She’s doing fine. Running everything as usual.”

“Of course. Boss lady.” Yangyang does an awkward salute.

“Oh, a new hair color too. As pretty as flower fields in the spring of ‘22.”

Sicheng’s lovesick rambling is interrupted by Yangyang hacking his lungs out. You turn to him and he avoids your gaze, reaching for a crystal blue glass of water one of the helper bots offer. So, he’s not even a smoker? Why did he think you would care?

“Anyway, Kun is glaring daggers at me now. You better get out of here.” Sicheng grimaces.

You turn around to see Kun by the bar table, gesturing towards Yangyang to come. You're not sure why but either of those men make you nervous.

"I'll be right back," Yangyang says, scrambling up and leaving you in a long awkward silence with Sicheng.

“So, uh, I’m assuming you’re oblivious to that lovestruck puppy following you around?” Sicheng asks, raising an eyebrow. “Or is this some game you guys are into? I’m not judging you for that.”

Your face heats up and you fidget with your collar. “The- A what? Game? Uh? I- huh?”

Sicheng tries to press down his smile but it’s evident enough for you to see. Did you say something funny? Did Yangyang say something funny about you? Oh, you’re going to kill him.

“For all that he talks, he’s kind of terrible at pulling together his own love life.”

“I- I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

It still unnerves you to look at him. He certainly looks more android than human when he’s not making any particular expression.

“Don’t mind me,” he says, offering you a reassuring smile. “You should find Yangyang before he lands the two of you in trouble.”

You turn to look at Yangyang through the glass and turn back nodding. Sicheng offers you a parting smile and you hesitantly make your way to the bar table.

"This isn't in my job description," Kun tells Yangyang just before you arrive. "I didn't know being a lawyer included babysitting."

The tips of Yangyang's ears heat up when he notices you.

"It's not babysitting," he murmurs. “Also, you’re not my mom.”

"You, Ten, Kunhang, all of you give me such a hard time," he continues but pauses right when he notices you.

"Oh, hello. (Name), isn't it?" He says, smiling politely. He's quite young and handsome for a lawyer. "Yangyang talks about you a lot."

"Oh," you respond. "Really?"

Yangyang glares at the older man. "You don't have to say everything, Kun-ge."

"You interested in law?" Kun asks, offering you a seat between him and Yangyang.

You make a face. The law is a tool for the rich and powerful. But then again, what isn’t? The world is in your hands when you have billions to spare. However, you still can’t imagine being a rich man's guard dog your whole life.

Kun chuckles. "You kids are interested in tech more, aren't you?"

Yangyang interrupts, "You talk like you're fifty years old."

Kun grimaces, resting his face against his hand. Shooting a glare at Yangyang, he finishes the rest of his wine.

You're not exactly interested in tech or engineering or the big kid jobs either. You just want a way to survive this man-made food chain. Rich eats the world till there’s nothing left on the plate. Then again, you'd rather be a pet than get eaten.

"Anyway," Kun turns to Yangyang. "If you see Ten, give me a call."

Yangyang signals with a thumbs up gesture, watching as Kun’s figure slowly makes its way out of the gate. It’s the two of you again and suddenly, you feel a strange sort of feeling overcome you. Leaning your throbbing forehead against Yangyang’s shoulder, you take some soft breaths and skip the part where you question your actions. It’s pleasant, at the very least. He shifts his chair closer, extending his arm around you so that your head rests against his shoulder more comfortably.

“You must be tired,” he mutters.

“You didn’t answer me,” you say. “Answer in a way I understood, at least.”

“Hm?”

“Why do you hang around me?”

“Do you not… want me to?”

“No. I like your company, actually. I can’t believe I said that out loud.”

Yangyang laughs. “You’re… you’re really perfect. As a person. At least to me, you seem that way.”

You scoff. “You’re a long way off there.”

“No. No, you felt like clockwork,” he continues. “When I first met you. I couldn’t believe you were real.”

You do work like a delirious robot on clockwork steroids. But you’re not very proud of it. You don’t think overworking is a good personality trait to have—even if it’s for survival. However, the faraway look in Yangyang’s eyes suggests that’s not what he means.

“I felt like I understood you,” he continues after a short pause.

You find it unbelievable. That’s the one sentence you could never imagine coming from him to you, much less agree with. But right then, as his warmth seeps into you, you want to agree desperately.

Yangyang feels an unexpected trickle of doubt down his throat. No matter how many times he’s practised in front of the mirror, the words don’t come out right when you’re with him. With everything you do, he feels more drawn in. There’s something familiar and something honest. And if he’s honest himself, he just likes you. What sort of a hypocrite should he be categorized as, to tell his friends to ‘just confess’ to their crushes when he’s a complete idiot when it comes to you? It can’t be that little voice from his childhood that tells him to stay in order.

Yangyang understands that there are rules to this world but he doesn’t get what those have got to do with him. He sighs, the sound somewhat grim when it comes from him.

"I've seen it before," he says, "People come from all over the country with hopes and dreams, and they get their hearts broken by capitalism."

You frown.

"I don't want you to go anywhere," he mumbles. "I hope you'll stay… even if- even if you feel like that, you know? If you're feeling lonely, I could—"

"Yangyang." You smile. "I’m quite comfortable here."

When you bury your nose into the crook of his neck, Yangyang thinks this is it. This is how he ends the sorry excuse of flirting he’s been trying with you and says something he regrets. It was never this difficult with the other crushes he’s had. He’s always left opening his mouth and then promptly closing it like a goldfish out of water every single time he wants to bring up dating with you. He’s always honest. So, what’s the big deal this time? This is so horrendously not cool of him.

You straighten. “We should get back home.”

“Can you- Can you not move so far from me, please?” Yangyang murmurs, hands gripping yours.

You smile, to yourself more to him but that’s one he likes the most.

“You’re a really interesting person, Yangyang.”

“I am?” He clears his throat and repeats the question.

“How are you so nice to people?”

“I think people are nice.”

“Why do you like parties?”

“They’re fun.”

“When the party’s over, who do you go to?” you ask, words mushing into each other.

“Home,” he answers, gulping down what seems like more words. “Like always.”

A hush falls between the two of you. You’re asking quite the questions.

“I’m sweaty,” you mutter. “I hate being sweaty.”

“You look wonderful though,” Yangyang mumbles, more to himself than to you. “Not that being sweaty makes you wonderful. You’re just nice.”

There’s another hush, the notes of the piano playing a faraway, romantic tune. He turns away and looks back at you again, but right in that moment, you lean forward to press your lips against his. It’s so sudden that he almost falls over backwards, his feet planted firmly on the ground the only thing preventing that from happening. The next thing he thinks is that your lips are on fire and it’s the most comfortable feeling he’s ever experienced.

The two of you fit into each other like clockwork, Yangyang thinks. It’s the one thing in his life that feels whole. Not that he isn’t whole by himself—he just loves your warmth. For a moment he feels like he’s on cloud nine and the next, his heart plummets when he feels you go limp in his arms.

It breaks his heart a little but he doesn’t—can’t bring himself to say much. He’s not this bad when he’s drunk, is he? Pulling you up by the waist, he texts Kunhang to bring his car down to the lounge.

This is going to be a long night.

viii. home

You wake up to the sun in your eyes and immediately know you're someplace you shouldn't be. This isn't your bed. The sun doesn't reach your bed in the morning. This isn’t the dormitory. You see a cubical alarm clock, a pixelated smiley face on it as it displays 10 A.M.

You get up and immediately shriek. You’re not wearing any clothes. Pulling the blanket up to your chin, you look around the room. It’s huge; the walls are multicolored with a little section opposite the bed reserved for photographs. There’s a lot of junk all over the floor that you don’t pay mind to when you notice Yangyang.

“Yangyang?!”

He rouses blinking slowly, hair going every which way and his eyes still unfocused. He looks like he’s had a difficult night.

“Why are you on the floor?” you ask, shrinking further into the ridiculously soft bed when he gets up. Massaging the back of his neck, he looks like he's looking at a mirage instead of a real live person. Unfortunately, he’s not wearing a shirt and you look away after a prolonged minute of staring. This is getting ridiculous. What are you doing here?

“Yangyang!”

“Huh? Oh!”

He seems to be finally awake. You should pop the question before it eats you alive.

"Did- Did we…?"

Yangyang blinks at you in confusion before a loud "oh" erupts from his mouth.

"No!" He says in between laughter. "No, we didn't. Oh my god, you’re so funny. You took off your clothes saying it's too hot and smacked me with them. I didn’t look, by the way.”

Your jaw drops. You can’t even form words through the pulsing headache.

“Your clothes are on the chair. And I didn’t touch your underwear. Out of respect."

You avoid eye contact in embarrassment.

“And… well, you did kiss me once. Twice.”

You look up alarmed and he raises his arms in defense.

“You- you were drunk so I had to push you off. You cried a little after that. Sorry.”

“Oh god.” You cover your face with your hands, sitting down on the bed. That has to be the most embarrassing thing you could have done.

“You- Don’t worry about that. You’re a good kisser. I was kind of surprised,” he offers in an attempt to make you feel better but you only grow hotter in the face.

“And- And I liked it,” he adds in a panic. “Wait, I don’t mean it in a creepy way.”

“I’m glad it wasn’t anyone else.”

“What?”

“You. It’s okay if it’s you.”

You give him a weak smile, still not over the embarrassment.

Yangyang laughs. “I… I think I should’ve said this before but… can I take you out on a date?”

“What were we doing last night then?”

“Well, that was- ah. You’re teasing me. Motherfucker.”

You giggle into your palm. When he takes a seat on the bed, you make a distressed sound and he jumps up immediately.

“My clothes,” you hiss. “Get out of the room so I can wear them.”

“Right,” he says, pointing an index finger at you.

He turns around right then. "By the way…"

You shriek, pulling the cover up all the way to your nose.

"Sorry," he says, averting his eyes immediately. "If- if that was a date, did you like it? Do you wanna go on another one?"

You can see him practically sweat bullets and you laugh at the innocuous questions. He’s too cute. You can’t believe you made yourself shake off the thought every time it crossed you. However indelicate his touch is, you welcome it nonetheless.

"Yes. Yes, I'll go on a date with you. You annoying, stupid, bratty idiot."

“Okay, that was mean.”

Watching his figure leave through the door, you relax your shoulders. In the end, people will always be people. No matter what shiny new toy you give them to play with, people will always search for happiness, and they will laugh and cry and fall in love with people and places and things over and over again. It's lovely to be human in an era of diamond and steel.

#yangyang x reader #nct x reader #wayv x reader #yangyang scenarios #nct scenarios #wayv scenarios #yangyang fluff #nct fluff #wayv fluff #yangyang fanfic #nct fanfic #yangyang fic #moonwrites #dawg idk what im doing imma be honest here

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carionto · 8 months

Text

Nothing is safe from becoming "exciting"

I've read a bunch of HASO stuff and often when I'm writing something I know I'm drawing from a ton of somewheres, to the point where I can't pinpoint anything, it's all a big mush that my brain then spits out here. This one, however, I know was inspired by jpitha's writings, specifically the bit about Gene's High G Gym (I think that's the mostly correct name anyway). Shamelessly shilling their work cuz it's great, go read it!

______________________________

Humanity has begun expanding their hold over their native system. Like an insect hive, ships ferry just about everything to and from Earth, building stations both in planetary orbits and around the Sun. Nearly all experimental of some kind - a lot of ideas they couldn't try built up over the thousand years they were isolated.

They do also have countless small space worthy vehicles, nearly all with varying superficial designs and patterns, but also quite a few rather different underlying mechanical principles.

Soon we noticed a lot of activity throughout the entire system not affiliated with any organization or group. Just... individuals and small family units doing their own thing. We quickly gave up trying to categorize such behavior. When we asked, they said:

"Anyone with a license to pilot their craft can go pretty much wherever that isn't restricted. For some places and activities they do need to get a permission first though."

Worryingly lax on account that many of the larger "civilian" craft are still powered by their "Mini-Suns" as they call them.

One particular individual craft got our attention. It created a spike of thermal activity in one region of their Oort Cloud, so one of us went to ask this Human. Abigail was her name:

"Yo space dudes and dudettes, what's up?" Our translators were still incorporating the various Human linguistic peculiarities, but their liaisons are very helpful. We inquired as to what she was doing here so far out.

"Oh you are gonna love it!" another phrase we are learning to be wary of. "Victor, that's this bad boy right here," she affectionately slaps the armrest of her, now that we are closer, disturbingly modified vessel. Is that a second engine cluster bolted on the back? And a... weird exposed device with a large neon label - Space BBQ. We instinctively fear her and her next words. "He and I are making a race track with these here ice cubes. I got this idea when I was a kid, and it is going to be. So. Awesome!"

All of the red flags triggered. Then, Abigail demonstrates by shooting a harpoon claw... thing... at a nearby object the size of a few skyscrapers and begins pulling it towards a cluster of other planetesimals. Normally, these kind of clouds have stabilized over billions of years and each object is thousands and millions of kilometers from one another.

There were dozens stacked so close to each other that you could barely fit an escape pod between in some places. One in particular was surrounded by a small cloud of its own.

"Ooh, that one right there." She enthusiastically pointed out its somewhat flattened ovoid shape. "Doesn't it just scream to you that it wants to be the ultimate doughnut? Hector thinks so, he's my cat by the way - Say hi Hector! [hiss] (Fine, be that way, ya bum) Love that bastard. Anyway, just gotta finish blasting a hole big enough and it'll be the perfect finish line."

Not wanting to hurt our sanity further, we decided to leave her be, but not before she proudly exclaimed over all open channels:

"Remember to tell your folks if they ever wanna race to come here to Abby's Action Asteroids [quick whisper] (trademark pending)! Soon it'll have laser obstacles!"

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space oddities #humans are space australians #humans are space orcs #humanity fuck yeah #carionto

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kunimix · 2 months

Text

—NEON GUTS

Ep. 3; Tutor Session yay… I’m gonna cry

prev ep | masterlist | next ep

CW; Written chapter, timestamps don’t matter unless said otherwise

You were grabbing your notebooks and stuff until one of your brothers came into your room.

“Where are you going?” your older brother, Ayaso, asked. His voice sounded confused but he had a poker face on.

‘Tutor Session’ is what you could’ve said but you said “To mind my own damn business” as you walked out of the room with your bag of notebooks.

You arrived at Scaramouche’s house with the help of your mom dropping you off. You walked to the door and were about to knock before the door swung open. A woman with blackish purple hair stood in front of you.

“Hello, are you the girl Kunikuzushi is tutoring?” The woman asked

“I’m sorry who?” You said confused

“I forgot he goes by Scaramouche to everyone else”

“Oh yeah, he’s my tutor, is he here?”

“Yes, he is he’s right in his room. Just go up those stairs and the second door to the left is his”

“Thank you”

You went up the stairs and tried to find his room. you found it but you knocked before you came in. Once you heard a muffled come in you opened the door and was hit with the aroma of snacks.

“You got snacks?” You asked him

“No shit?” He looked at you as if you were stupid

“Little rude don’t you think?”

“Little slow don’t you think?”

About an hour into the session, you felt like your brain fried. You grabbed a [chip of choice] and put it in your mouth. He had given you some math problems to practice with

To hell with math, you thought slamming your head on the table

“What? Are you done?” He took your notebook from under your head. He read the questions some of them unanswered.

“How the hell did you manage to get all of the ones you answered wrong?” He was in disbelief.

“Shut up!” You picked your head up and semi-yelled at him

“It’s whatever though I guess we can stop for the day.”

“Finally!”

You stood up and stretched but then an idea popped into your head.

“Wanna go get boba?” You excitedly asked him

He sighed but nodded continuing to putting everything away. You would help him but he insisted that he didn’t need help so you just sat on his bed and waited.

He finished cleaning and grabbed his jacket.

“Well? Let’s go” He was looking at you waiting for you to get up

You quickly stood up but then almost fell.

Should I leave my stuff here or should I take it with me you thought until Scaramouche interrupted your thought process

“Just leave your stuff here you can come back and get it if you’re thinking that” He said practically reading your mind.

“Okay then let’s go” You said excitedly.

He grabbed his keys and led you out the door to his car that was in the driveway.

You guys get to Song Tea and your phone was blowing up with messages whether it was from your friends or from Twitter. You guys enter the store and wait in line it was a really short line since it was 6pm there was only a couple in front of you guys.

Once it was your guys’ turn to order you were about to speak until Scaramouche interrupted once again.

“Can I get a Jasmine green tea with boba and a” he trailed off and looked at you

“What do you want?”

“A Carmel brown sugar mochi dirty with boba” you respond after reading the menu

The lady at the counter nodded and put in the tablet thing. You started grabbing some money out of your pocket until Scaramouche stopped you and shook his head towards you. He paid for yours and his drink. The lady told you two your order number and you went to go find a seat somewhere.

“So.. why’d you pay for my drink not that I’m complaining or anything just curious” You put you head in your hand looking at him.

“Because I wanted to is that a problem?” He raised an eyebrow

You just shook your head. Your order number was called and Scaramouche went to go grab the drinks.

prev ep | masterlist | next ep

Summary; Scaramouche is “forced” to tutor you the “dumbass” of the class

A/n; sorry for late post

Taglist; @featuredtofu @chemiru @veekoko

#female reader #genshin impact #genshin smau #genshin x reader #kunimix #scaramouche smau #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #genshin fanfic

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poppurini · 10 months

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FIVE LOVE LANGUAGES ：with lilia ヾ( ˃o˂ )◞

note. doing all five for this man bc i’m greedy

wc. 1566﹐gn!reader mostly but fem!reader in one small part of a section ig? in giving gifts!

giving gifts — for some people, receiving / giving a heartfelt gift is what makes them feel most loved.

this one’s a given! he loves travelling, so he’ll definitely bring you lots and lots of souvenirs. i feel like lilia’s definitely the kind to give you rings / bracelets / necklaces stored with the sand from the beach you two went to or something similar teehee. the kind to randomly gift you something even when there’s no special occasion. “this reminds me of you” kind of bf <3 definitely remembers the things you like / your preferences to make you even happier!

i also think lilia would gift you handmade crafts! the moment he finds out there are such creative ways to express one’s love to another? oh boy, he’s purchasing all the colour papers, glue sticks, popsicle sticks, whatever! yknow those diy cube thingies that could be opened and pictures are stuck to each and every side? yeah those. he’ll definitely make it colourful and sparkly! maybe even a little messy / some errors here and there but it’s just so lilia to do that, one look at it and people can guess who it’s from. it’s definitely much more endearing than picture-perfect ones.

flowers flowers flowers! he never forgets them. you might even need to remind him that you’ve ran out of vases! i’ve said this so many times in my lilia posts but i will die on this hill he gives you flowers native to briar valley, his homeland. not to mention the scented letters written in perfect cursive? the poems? just him spilling out all his love for you on ink? search for the meaning of those flowers and you’ll run into his arms crying and peppering his face with kisses, swear.

also loves matching with you! matching keychains, bracelets, necklaces, anklets, phone cases, rings (wink), pretty much everything. will buy “she’s my queen” “he’s my king” neon coloured couple t-shirts, ironically or not it’s up to your sanity. he’ll also give you rocks he finds cool looking he’s so stupid (i want to exchange vows with him)

acts of service — for these people, actions speak louder than words. these are nice things you do for your partner that make them feel loved and appreciated.

he likes doing things for you. trouble with homework? let him help! going somewhere? let him fly you! oh, your laundry’s piling up…let him play his favourite horror movie on the tv first! wanna take a drink but too lazy to get up from the bed? fine, fine, but you gotta give him a kiss as a reward later, kay? even though he could just use magic to float it towards you, he just wants an excuse to steal kisses.

definitely offers to cook but who would want that. so he’ll try his best to assist you in the kitchen upon your orders! no five tablespoons of salt or frog slime in the soup? tsk. he does dishes most of the time since he’s not allowed to cook in your kitchen anymore :(

this sounds so unserious but it gets me on my knees. he orders food / inquires concerns—“they asked for no pickles” that kind—for you if you’re too scared or shy to do it. no i will not elaborate further. also very casually swipes a few tissues, grabs your jaw gently and wipes the crumbs at the corner of your mouth while continue to hum to your words. if you complain about how you were planning on doing it yourself later he just chuckles and gives your cheek a teasing pat. oh, just let him take care of you, would you? he doesn’t mind, you just keep taking about your day and tell him about the kitten you saw. taking care of others is one of his best feats!

quality time — this is all about giving the other person your undivided attention. they feel loved if you are present and focused on them when you are together.

he will always, and i mean always, make time for you. he’s already old and gets a wild card to do whatever he wants in his life so ofc he’d want to spend it all on you! especially if he had no choice but to put you second hundreds of years ago back when he had royal duties (if you guys are already together then) he’ll definitely make it up to you now.

i feel like lilia is HEAVY on quality time due to his race as a fae and former general status, he knows far too well how fleeting time can be and how much you could lose from it, so he really appreciates time with you no matter how it’s spent. even lazing on the couch and having simple cuddles would be enough to make his old heart melt! him lying stomach down in between your legs and resting his cheek on your stomach; just wrapping his arms around your figure and snuggling in, he’ll groan like he’s getting a professional full body massage when you play with his hair / massage his scalp.

but of course he still wishes to travel around the globe with you, his darling love. just think of the amount of things you two are going to experience! witnessing new cultures and sights, the inevitable small arguments during vacations, sliding the curtains open fully at the break of dawn to let the sun shine on your sleepy figure and hearing your groggy groans, catching the pillow you throw at him, they’ve got lilia’s heart thumping loudly in its cage.

psst, as a bonus, tell him you want attention while he’s gaming and he’ll immediately log out for you <3 eh, he can tackle this raid later. sorry user gloomurai!

words of affirmation — this language uses words to affirm other people. it’s about expressing affection through spoken words, praise, or appreciation.

SCREAMS TILL MY VOCAL CHORDS BREAK he has no qualms repeating his affection and admiration for you, especially if you’re someone who constantly craves it; he’ll gladly remind you every minute of the day. lilia would cradle you in his arms, humming a calm tune while caressing your skin and pressing chaste kisses to your forehead / hair every now and then.

pats your head reassuringly and lets you bury yourself into his shoulder / chest if you’re feeling particularly clingy that day; telling you how pretty you are, how cute you are, how your silly little jokes and laughs got him feeling like a schoolboy in love—“you know, like those, what do you call it? shoujo mangas?”—and how you got this legendary former war general completely wrapped around your finger.

i think there’s something so beautiful about one accepting your flaws and aiding you to solve the problem if it’s possible instead of just brushing you off by singing false praises…and that’s what my interpretation of lilia is. what’s that? you feel bad for being a “burden” and not good enough for him? nonsense. he loves you with his entire heart and soul, that also includes loving your flaws and helping you through it.

now, that doesn’t mean he thinks you’re a burden or unworthy of him, but he’ll find the root of the problem together with you to know why you feel this way so he could truly help you through it and make you feel better about yourself, it’s what you deserve. it really aches the man’s heart to hear you speak of yourself so negatively when all he thinks of you is everything good and butterflies in his stomach.

physical touch — to this person, nothing speaks more deeply than appropriate physical touch. they feel love through physical affection.

lilia loves having an arm around your waist, caressing it gently with his thumb while he nods and listens attentively to you talk about your day. he’ll gently brush a stray strand of hair out of the way or tuck it behind your ear to get a better view of your— what, you look better with your hair framing your face? wrong! you look good whenever and right now he wants to admire your pretty face with no obstacles in the way.

his hand, although small, is firm and heavy against yours. absolutely loves intertwining your fingers together and rubbing his thumb on your skin, he’ll kiss the inside of your wrist while looking into your eyes with a warm gaze, always the romantic.

one of the things that makes him absolutely go weak is you sitting on his lap!! probably likes you straddling him most because he gets to be closest with you that way. it isn’t even about being sensual he just adores holding your body close against his, melting into each other’s warm and secure embrace with no care in the world.

when you’re in this position, you’ll find him speaking in a softer tone, perhaps even a little deeper than his usual voice (see: general lilia times). maybe he’s doing it on purpose because he knows it flusters you or maybe he just feels safe and allows himself to be vulnerable around you. he’ll do reassuring caresses on your thighs, waist, or both; drawing random patterns and sometimes even telling you to guess them with a small chuckle.

he’s always holding you with such tender love and care it undoubtedly makes you melt each and every time, and he’s not even trying. his hold just harbours such genuine love and affection for you, it’s another way of exposing his feelings bare to you if he wasn’t speaking up about it already. he’d love to touch you at all times if possible, it’s a solid reminder that you’re still here, with him.

he cups your cheek benevolently with one hand, caressing the heated skin and giving chaste kisses to those lips he’s addicted to, murmuring promises and affection that holds true while the other hand wraps reassuringly, tightly, perhaps even desperately around your waist, he’s not going anywhere and neither are you.

written and posted by millie. copying, reposting, rewriting, or uploading on other platforms are strictly prohibited.

#lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #gender neutral reader #the 4am effects #lili :( i love lili

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strlingsav · 1 year

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Hi! Congratulations on another wonderful piece, I thoroughly enjoyed Drive and reread it 5 times now🥰🥹

please feel free to ignore this request, but I'm so painfully addicted to your writing style (seriously you are my top favorite creator along with stararchangel) I would love to see your take on this, I have 2 ideas-

1) female reader x Simon Riley, she's civilian, and basically how they meet is somewhere random (like grocery store?) and he, a cold hardened killer, immediately melts and thinks she's the most beautiful piece of art he's ever seen. Now, he doesnt immediately approach her bc he's like, scared or dumbstruck, or maybe just doesn't wanna bother her? But he can either follow her out of the vicinity to find out where she resides/more about her (stalker lowkey ik) or maybe they can meet a second time, same place, but she accidentally bumps into him? Then they get to talking, he wants to pursue her etc AND LOTS OF SMUT OMG YOUR SMUT IS PEAK! I did read something similar from someone else, I think they did könig though, or even just another civilian female x ghost and he is just dumbfounded thinking she's the most beautiful things ever man

2) female reader x ghost, where she's like an insanely skilled killer, perfect sniper executions, can rip dude's faces off per say and is super fast and skilled in some fighting style like jujitsu, easily knock people off their feet ok? And basically she has a reputation for being excellent at her craft and SUPER well known not just within the army or whatever in the US but overseas like in the Middle East and Japan and Russia and shit man idk (honestly I was watching Hunter x Hunter thinking about the flesh collector girl that Kurapika had to bodyguard for, so what if the fReader was known too for like selling shit on the black market? And being the best of the best medic, head Doctor/ surgeon type shit), then she joins task force 141 and they see all her badass-ness in action and how she just fucks dudes up and gets head shots from crazy far sniper locations and fixes up awful injuries like it's nothing and yea then ghost also falls in love w her and LOTS OF SMUT AGAIN pls

Thank you SO MUCH FOR READING! 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽😭

Thank you so so much for the kind words and for reading!! (You're so sweet omg) I'm so happy you enjoy it.

This'll have to be a two-parter for both requests, but here's your first!! Second will come later.

Thank you again, I hope you enjoy 🤍

Afar

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

— Simon's enamoured with you.

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

You were hesitant about your friends' choice to meet for drinks at a dive-bar downtown. You knew the place; a rustic establishment tucked into a quiet corner of the city. It was well known for the crowd it attracted: blue-collar workers, bikers and the like. You'd never stepped foot inside, it's outward appearance alone was daunting. It was a historic monument in the city, given away by the dying neon of the 'open' sign and weathered letters above the entrance.

It was filled with a haze of cigarette smoke and the smell of whiskey and beer. Neon lights plastered on the walls, dated decor with posters of vintage cars and women- it certainly wasn't an obvious choice.

Your eyes shifted around the bar, classic-rock playing softly in the background, the sound of pool balls clacking against each other- it almost made you uncomfortable how much you stood out among the predominantly masculine crowd. You were still dressed in your office attire, and your friend was no different. She insisted it was a great place for drinks after work, and the men never bothered her.

You gave her the benefit of the doubt, sipping your beer slowly while she chatted about the newest developments in her love life. Your eyes met, adding a nod or a smile every so often, but you were on edge; your guard was up just in case.

Simon had seen you walk in.

His hand was clasped around the glass of bourbon, perched at the bar with tense shoulders. Another deployment finished meant he would spend most of his free time there, where people tended to mind their own, and didn't ask any questions. He liked the solitude, liked knowing that no one knew who he was- or cared.

He could drown out the flurry of thoughts and internal conflict with whiskey, focusing solely on the sweet hint of caramel, the bitterness of burning tobacco and melody of classic rock in the background. It was his sanctuary, the place he had no distractions, no obligations, only staring down the amber liquid in his glass, ice cubes pressing against his lips as he took a sip.

His attention was quickly grabbed by the bell above the door, ringing just loud enough to make his head turn. His eyes met yours for a fleeting moment, before you turned back to the woman you were with.

He certainly hadn't expected to find himself giving you a second look. He didn't consider himself to be the kind of man that stared at attractive women. His composure had cracked just a bit though, enough to let his gaze follow you through the bar as you took a seat within his view.

He was quickly enamoured, something that hadn't happened to him before- aside from the early years of puberty, and it terrified him. How you walked in, brushing your hair from your face, the way your hips swayed when you walked- you'd already more than caught his attention.

He swallowed, harshly. He took another sip of his drink, a deep breath in as he finished the last of it. Maybe it was a fleeting attraction, maybe he was just sexually frustrated, gratifying it with the first woman he saw. As he peered over his shoulder, watching you lean forward, smile softly- fuck, if it didn't make his stomach lurch. He wanted to know you.

Your pencil skirt more than complemented your body, and he'd noticed. The silk blouse that fit just right around the peak of your breasts- he stared forward, shutting his eyes as he tried to shake you from his mind.

He couldn't help it, though. Watching you from his periphery, beer in hand as you crossed your legs, he heard you laugh. He forced himself to lean over his drink, tune out your conversation. It wasn't right to listen, wasn't right to think about a woman, a stranger, the way he was.

But the sound of your voice carried, and he could practically taste the shampoo in your hair, the fading scent of perfume. He wondered if all of you was as sweet as you smelled. As an even nastier thought crossed his mind, what he'd do to have your body in his hands, his nostrils flared as he sucked in a deep breath. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket as he slid from his stool, marching outside. He didn't allow himself to look back, didn't want to be the one to make you uncomfortable. He was sure you were used to being leered at- how couldn't you be?

He was transfixed with the shape of your lips, the way your eyes crinkled at the edges when you laughed, how you'd lick your lips after a swig of beer. It was too much- all too much for him to handle while a few drinks in, and he refused to be the asshole that hit on you in a bar. He knew he treasured the peace and quiet, he imagined you did too.

He stepped outside, the cool night air on his skin helped drop his rising temperature, bringing him back to reality. The lit cigarette in his hand glowed as he sucked in a breath, fighting the urge to throw it away and stalk back inside to you. He wondered whether you had a boyfriend, perhaps a husband- someone you'd go home to that would never know just how lucky he is. Who wouldn't worship you the way he knew he could, treat you the way he would. Make you feel the way he would. He clenched his jaw, already despising the bastard.

His thoughts got ahead of him, and his cigarette was already burned to the filter before he realized he'd been stewing outside for at least ten minutes. He flicked it from his fingers, watching it sizzle out on the pavement. He cleared his throat, turning to open the door when you appeared on the other side.

His breath caught in his chest. Up close, he could see the true curves of your cheekbones, the allure of your lips, the sparkle in your eye as he interrupted the conversation with your friend. He could even smell you better, and it hit him like a wall. His heart pounded in his ears, aching to say something-anything, but he refused to fall victim to his inflated desires. He didn't know if you'd reciprocate it, anyway.

You stopped and stared, eyes meeting his as he stepped out of the way, holding the door for the two of you.

"Thank you," You gave him a small smile, your eyes still on his even as you were clear of the door.

He was tall- and big. A mass of muscle that caught your eye. His eyes were dark, plagued with some sort of stress as his brows furrowed. You noticed the way his gaze trailed down your body, and felt the twinge of heat rise up your chest and neck.

He had short hair, brunet, disheveled. He was handsome. A crooked nose, defined cheekbones and jaw, a hint of stubble across his face.

You turned back, taking one last look as the two of you made your way to the taxi, waiting on the curb.

The second time your friend invited you out, you'd had the weekend off. Free time was never a guarantee in your line of work. A demanding boss, deadlines, company meetings; usually your weekends were filled with errands. She'd caught you at a good time, and asked if you liked the bar she took you to.

So you ventured out again, happy to be free of your office clothes, and took a seat in the same booth. This time, you were feeling less on edge, more excited to be out, enjoying yourself. Your friend brought her current girlfriend- one you'd met only once before, and weren't sure how many more times you'd see her.

"I'll get us a round," You said, setting your hands on the table as you stood up.

"If you insist," Your friend grinned, watching you with a smirk, her arm over her girlfriend's shoulders.

You rolled your eyes, "You're paying next."

She didn't say anything, but you kept your eyes on her with a playful glare as you walked off to the bar.

You stopped at the bar, and stood on your toes, trying to catch the attention of the bartender who had his back turned polishing glasses.

Simon couldn't believe he was seeing you again. You'd been on his mind since he last saw you, flashes of your lips, your eyes distracting him from everyday tasks. He even took it a step further to imagine what you felt like beneath him, the way you'd say his name as you came around him. He spent most nights in a sweat, desperately chasing relief. It didn't work. He didn't think it ever would.

He turned his head ever so slightly, and you met his eyes.

"Hi," You said softly, a bashful smile over your face as you realized it was the same good-looking man that held the door for you.

He could feel his heart beat just a bit faster- his eyes trailing over your face.

"Y'alright?" He asked.

His voice was deep, raspy, British. You licked your lips.

"Just trying to order some drinks," You said. "I don't think it'll be happening anytime soon."

He looked over at the bartender.

"Oi, mate," He called, catching his attention.

"Thanks," You said.

You were inches from him, your hip nearly touching his arm, and he noticed. He could feel it, feel the heat emanating off of you, smell that same delicious fucking smell that drove him insane. This time, you were in a shirt that showed a tease of cleavage and tight jeans that clung to every curve and detail of your body. As he leaned back ever so slightly, taking in the sight of your ass, he let out a soft breath.

"You're the guy that held the door for me a couple weekends ago, right?"

You were waiting for the bartender to make your drinks, and couldn't help but strike up a conversation with him. Your eyes moved to his fingers, wrapped around the glass, and you bit the inside of your cheek.

He definitely works with his hands, you thought. He did something that formed callouses along the crown of his palms and helped keep the obvious tone of his arms. Construction, maybe?

"Yeah," He nodded, taking a sip of his drink. You watched intently, his lips plush and inviting, wet with liquor.

"That was my first time being here," You looked away, feeling intimidated by his gaze.

He was staring so intensely, you almost felt suffocated. But you liked it. Liked the way it made you feel, liked how he shifted in his seat to face you, how you could imagine your legs over his broad shoulders.

"You like it?" He asked, raising a brow.

"It's not bad," You smiled. You just couldn't stop fucking smiling. "Company's good and the people seem nice enough."

"You with your friends?"

You nodded. "And you?"

"I like drinkin' alone."

You tried to hide the frown that crossed your face.

"But I don't mind talkin' to you."

He was so damn charming- too charming. He was definitely good at sweet-talking. Your cheeks burned, wondering what else he was good at.

"That's sweet," You grinned, your hand landing on his arm.

He could've fucked you then and there, your hand on his arm lit up his entire body. He felt himself harden under the restraints of his jeans. He'd never gotten hard from a woman touching his arm before, and he wondered when he became so goddamn pathetic. He didn't mind it though, not if you kept talking and smiling like you were.

You introduced yourself, holding your hand out for him to shake. He seemed entertained by the idea, a small smile lifting his lips as his hand engulfed yours. He knew your skin would be soft, knew you'd have a light touch.

"Simon," He nodded. "Don't let me keep you from your friends."

"I think they're more than okay." You looked over your shoulder at the two of them, kissing in the booth, not paying a sliver of attention to anyone else. "Let me just drop these off for them," You took the drinks off the counter.

You came back with a purpose, a new mission for the evening; taking him back to your place, or his- whichever was closest. You had no idea he was thinking the exact same thing.

You and Simon continued your conversation, leading to the revelation that he was in the army, a soldier. If it was even possible, it turned you on even more.

"I work in an office," You said, stirring your drink with the thin, black stir-stick. "Nothing as interesting as that."

"I remember your blouse- that skirt you had on," He looked at you, a grin playing at his lips.

"You remember my outfit?" You giggled.

He nodded, "Couldn't forget it," He admitted, hoping it wouldn't scare you off.

"Didn't know I had that much influence," You raised your brows. "You should've introduced yourself then. We could've been having this conversation weeks ago."

"Didn't want to disturb you," He said, his palm pressing flat along your thigh. Your eyes drifted to the source of warmth on your leg, then looked back at him. "M'alright with where we are now, though."

"That's a shame," You sighed, now two cocktails deep, and undeniably aroused. He waited, brows furrowing at your words. "Think we'd be better off at my place."

He looked shocked, not sure how to proceed- whether it would be okay for him to accept, or make him appear too eager. But Christ, if he wasn't already burning up, desperate to get you undressed, kissing every inch of your body until you begged for him. He couldn't resist.

"Y'might be right," He drawled, his palm trailing further up your thigh, his thumb resting in the crease of your thigh and hip.

"Then what are we waiting for?"

He grinned, standing up from his seat, dropping a wad of cash on the bar.

"'M ready when you are, sweetheart."

He drove a new pickup truck, opening the door for you to step in. You sat comfortably, trying to restrain yourself as much as possible, but as he reached out to turn on the heat and you caught sight of the tattoos that engulfed his arm, you sighed deeply.

You were already aching, dying for a taste, anything to sate the throbbing in your abdomen. You could feel the wetness dripping from you, and you were sure you'd already soaked a spot on your panties.

When he set his palm on your thigh again, you exhaled, setting your hand overtop his. His hands were rough, worn; and you couldn't wait to feel them against your bare skin. You glided his hand carefully, slowly, up your leg, urging him to feel you, touch you.

"You can touch me, Simon," You whispered.

He looked over, his eyes narrowing as you leaned back, spreading your thighs a bit.

"I want you to touch me."

"Christ," He muttered, his fingers pressing against your pussy from over your jeans.

The pressure pushed the seam into your clit, and you let out a soft sigh. He watched with wide eyes, heavy breathing as he moved his fingers in small circles, forcing your jeans against you. You writhed under the pressure, whimpering softly, clinging to his wrist with an iron grip.

He listened to the sounds you made, trying not to close his eyes and savour it, forcing himself to keep his eyes on the road. If that was all it took to have those sounds of pleasure coming from your lips, he couldn't imagine what you'd sound like when he was inside you. He could hardly wait to show you the attention you deserved, make you cum endlessly, beg for his cock.

The trip to your house wasn't long, and when you entered the apartment, he had you pressed against the entryway. His hand on your waist, the other above your head, you stared into his eyes.

"Been dyin' t'get my hands on you since I first saw you," He whispered, goosebumps exploding over the surface of your skin.

"You shouldn't have waited," You said back, your face tilting up to his.

His hand left your waist, his thumb running across your bottom lip as he stood up straight. Letting out a heavy sigh, he grabbed your hips and yanked your pelvis flush with his.

"You're a fuckin' tease," He breathed.

He pressed his lips against yours, already a hungry and devoted action. Your lips felt like velvet, you tasted like a sweet fruit- cranberries, from your vodka-cran. He moaned softly, cherishing the feeling of your mouth against his, your hands coming to his face, delicately holding him in place.

He loved the way he made you look so small, so innocent against his larger frame. He'd have an easy time moulding you into positions, right where he wanted you. You felt so good, pressed against him, your soft little whimpers spurring him on. He introduced his tongue, gliding it against yours with no hesitation, tasting you.

"Show me your room," He said, breathless as he pulled away.

He was slow in his movements, his tall frame circling you like prey. He took a seat on the edge of your bed, thighs spread as he leaned forward. His fingers grabbed the hem of your shirt, rubbing it between his fingers.

"Take it off for me, sweetheart," His raspy voice was low, eyes unflinching as he watched you. "Nice n' slow." His elbows rested on his thighs as he watched you.

Your hands went to the hem, lifting it off your waist and over your shoulders. You unbuttoned your jeans, too, sliding them down your thighs and stepping out of them. You stood in your bra and panties before him, feeling a bit nervous with his unfaltering gaze, his eyes taking in every inch.

He was practically eating you alive. He trailed up and down your form, a strangled sigh coming from him as he watched your breasts push against your bra, thong clinging to you nicely with the wetness between your thighs. He couldn't believe he'd gotten you in his grasp, so willing and ready to do anything he asked. It made his cold heart melt, watching the way your hip shifted nervously.

"C'mere," He said, leaning back.

Your feet pushed forward, standing before him, and he grabbed your hips as he tugged you onto his lap. He let his hands reach around to sit on your ass, exhaling, nearly exploding with how good you felt in his hands. Such silky skin, he couldn't help but let his hands roam.

"Pretty little thing you are," He whispered against your throat, his nose nuzzled against your chin.

Your eyes fluttered shut as he pressed a soft kiss to your neck, his tongue sticking out to lick a short strip over your skin. He took his time, lips exploring your neck.

"Simon," You sighed, hands reaching for his forearms. "Please." You wanted him to touch you already, your pussy was aching from being so aroused.

"I'm takin' my time with you, sweetheart," Was his response.

You shivered, his hands running up and down your back, reaching for your ass. You arched your back, chest flush against his. He wanted to memorize every curve, learn you inside and out until he could blindly please you.

"Take off my shirt for me."

You obeyed, nimble fingers working quickly to unbutton his shirt, eyes widening as you pulled it open. His chest was muscular, and your eyes trailed down to his abs, scars scattered over his torso. There was a trail of coarse hair that disappeared into his jeans. You felt your pussy clench, a fire that was already raging in your womb exploded tenfold.

You tugged the shirt off his shoulders, breath hitting his chest as you sighed, nearly riding his lap.

He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your lips. You moaned, exhaling harshly through your nose as his tongue slid inside you mouth, gliding against yours. Your head went dizzy- intoxicated, drowning in the taste of his lips. You never wanted to pull away and your fingers reached his jaw as you leaned into him, hunger in your kiss.

Your hands then ran down his chest, over the hard muscles on his torso. He grunted softly, his body jerking as you felt his shoulders and biceps.

His hands reached around, unclasping your bra. He let it drop, watching you pull your arms from the straps. His eyes flashed to your breasts, one hand reaching up to cup your breast. Your head fell back, the ache in your pussy only getting stronger as he massaged your breasts. His thumb grazed your nipple, making you gasp softly.

"So fuckin' beautiful," He groaned.

You lifted your head, eyes boring into his.

He leaned in again, licking your breast before he took your nipple in his mouth, tongue swirling around it before flicking over it. You gasped, fingers lifting to his hair.

"You taste so good, sweetheart," He pulled back, lips finding your neck in a passionate kiss. "Bet your cunt tastes even better."

You sighed aloud, your hips jumping against his crotch. His words sent a shiver of desire straight through you, fingernails digging into his shoulders. He lifted you up with ease, turning to settle you on the bed.

Your legs were still wrapped around his waist, his lips back on yours for a moment before he kissed down your neck. Travelling over your breasts, he left bruises on the soft flesh, moving to your stomach, then hip bones.

His fingers tugged at your panties, parting them from your body with a bit of resistance from your wet core, then slid them down your legs, discarding them on the floor.

"Fuck," He mumbled. "You're soaked," He growled.

His lips attached to your inner thigh, throwing your legs over his shoulders. Your fingers reached into his hair, exhaling as you waited, hardly able to contain the thrumming in your chest, your desperate writhing.

His tongue licked a stripe through your folds and your hips jumped when he ran over your clit. Softly exhaling, you squeezed your thighs together around his ears.

He groaned softly, doing it again to receive the same reaction. His tongue worked a bit harder now, moving in circles over your clit. You were already wet- he knew that well. He wanted to eat your pussy for his own pleasure. He listened intently to the beautiful moans from your lips, his cock hardening even more when your fingers tugged and pulled at his hair.

You let out a soft moan, fingers curling into his hair, tugging as he lapped generously. The sounds of your pussy on his tongue were vulgar- echoing around your room. You were writhing in his grasp, even as his hands came to your hip bones to steady you.

He slid a finger inside you, curling it up against the rough spot inside your pussy. Your chest lifted, panting as he continued the motion, tongue still on your clit.

"God- Simon," You croaked, shivering. He adored the way his name sounded from your mouth.

It didn't take long for your climax to near, having already been turned on for so long, you were just waiting for his touch. You shifted with restlessness, and when he added a second finger, you knew your release would come any moment.

"I'm almost there," You whispered, voice hoarse as your abdomen clenched down.

"Cum for me, sweetheart," He cooed, fingers still coaxing it out of you.

Your eyes rolled shut, pussy squeezing down as you came- hard. He didn't relent, pleasure coursing through you as he continued his movements. He could hardly move his fingers at a certain point, your pussy constricting around him.

"Fuckin' hell," He murmured, eyes watching your body as you came.

You sighed softly, finally recovering from your orgasm, and Simon stood to his feet, face wet with your cum.

He leaned forward, "You wanna taste yourself?"

Your body shivered, meeting him halfway, pressing your lips to his. You made an effort to find his tongue, moaning at the taste of yourself on his tongue; mostly bitter, a hint of sweetness.

He stood up, yanking the belt from his jeans. You gulped, eyes watching with anticipation.

"I want to feel you," You said.

"Go on, love."

You reached out, fingers undoing his button, then his zipper. You yanked his pants down over his thighs. His bulge in his briefs was larger than expected- much larger. You pulled his briefs down, met with his large cock. Your hands immediately reached out to feel him, and his head fell back.

He was so used to fucking his own hand, the skin of yours was like satin on his cock. He choked back a gasp.

"Yeah," He groaned. "Just like that sweetheart," He praised, watching you twist your wrist, hand running up and down his length. You sighed softly, hips rocking as you listened to him, burning desire as he praised you.

You shifted, thighs rubbing together to create friction on your clit.

"Can't wait anymore," He said. "Lie back."

You did as he said, and he crawled over you, kicking his jeans off. He grabbed your thighs, tugging them to his waist as he lined his cock up to your entrance, tip rubbing against your clit.

"Can I?"

"Yes," You breathed. "Please."

"I'll give you just what you deserve, sweetheart," He grunted, his cock sliding slowly into your pussy. He let out a long sigh, basking in the way your walls took him in, how easy it was to glide in against the natural lubrication.

You moaned, your pussy stretching to accommodate his large size. It was uncomfortable for a few moments, before he began thrusting his hips against you. He leaned down, head beside yours as he rounded his hips, nudging his cock deep inside. You were all moans, body no longer able to do anything but obey. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, holding onto him.

"Takin' this cock so well," He said in your ear. Your eyes nearly rolled in your skull, squeezing shut. "Gonna make you cum for me."

"Keep talking like that, please," You whispered, eyes opening to watch him.

He groaned, "Been wonderin' what you'd sound like on my cock."

"Oh my-" You couldn't even manage to get out another word, another coherent sentence, so you relied on his name. "Simon."

"Fuck," He groaned in your ear. "So fuckin' wet."

"So good," You breathed.

His hips drove into yours, his pelvis hitting your clit repeatedly. His thick cock massaged your walls and it was nearly too much. You arched your back, toes curling, thighs clenching around his waist.

His body pressed against yours, neck craned to look at you from beside your head, watching your lips part as you gasped for air; he wanted to etch the vision behind his eyes. Your skin was flushed, fingers clawing at his back, hand cradling his head against your neck. He was repeatedly burying himself inside you, massaging your clit at the same time, and you couldn't hold back.

"F-fuck," You moaned. "Fuck- Simon," You gasped, pussy clenching around him.

"You gonna cum for me?" He asked, his hand moving back to grip your thigh.

You choked out a 'yes' as he bottomed out inside you, tip pressing against your cervix. You felt the sparks of pleasure level out over your body, enveloping you in a full-fledged fire, every nerve lit up with pleasure.

Your chest met his, tensing as your orgasm made your body rigid. He didn't relent, though the way you held him so tightly and whispered his name made it increasingly difficult not to.

"Simon," You moaned, eyes widening as you looked at him, lips parted with pleasure. "So good, Simon."

He groaned, listening to your swollen lips call his name, his cock twitched inside you. Your small frame, innocent eyes, soft thighs wrapped around him while he stroked his cock in your tight, wet pussy; if he was a lesser man be would've finished inside you immediately without hesitation. But he wanted to experience it all for as long as he could.

"That's right, sweetheart," He rolled his hips again. "Fuck you feel good."

Your fingernails scraped down his back, his muscles flexing as he moved. He exhaled sharply. Your thighs were squeezing his waist, and his fingers were surely bruising the delicate skin, but you didn't care.

He devoured your moans with his lips, relishing the way you still groaned, even with his tongue in your mouth he could hear you. He could still feel you too, your sensitive pussy clenching around him every time he hit your clit.

"I want you to cum again," He said. "Let me make you cum again," He pleaded. He so desperately needed to see it again, needed to see you fall apart for him, call out for him.

"Don't stop," You said, pressing a kiss to his neck. It was desperate, an attempt to make him feel just as good as he had for you, and you kissed up his jaw when you heard a satisfied groan in his throat.

Your eyes rolled back, abdomen and pussy clenching as the tension in your stomach began to build again. It was unraveling quickly, crumbling when he praised you, talked to you, even looked at you.

"I'm-I'm close," You said, clinging to his shoulders. "Again."

He nearly laughed. "Yeah, love. Let it out, give it to me."

"Yes," You moaned, head thrown back. "Fuck yes."

Your climax wasn't far, another wave of pleasure pulling you under. You struggled for breath, your eyes squeezing shut, fingers digging into him.

He let out a short gasp, feeling exactly how tight you could hug his cock, and it sent him over the edge at nearly the same time.

"Where do you want it?" He asked, pulling out.

He was massaging his cock, and you took over, lowering yourself as he released over your breasts, thrusting forward in your hand.

"Fuuck," He drawled, seeing your breasts painted white with his cum.

You sat back, staring up at him. He leaned forward, kissing you softly.

"Definitely should've said something sooner," You teased.

"I've got you here now," He said, a small smile on his glowing face. "That's all I care about."

#cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod mwii #mwii #simon riley #anon #anon request #request #strlingsavwrites #ask strlingsav

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sweet-honey-tears · 4 months

Text

▪️I am Your Safety▪️

Villain Deku x Quikless!Fem!Reader

OverView: Villain Deku with a quirkless reader who ends up calling on him for help.

Warning: Swearing, kidnapping if you squint

Inspiration: I recommend watching this short! Give them some love! It’s very good.

-🍯

It was a mistake, a rookie, quirkless mistake. One that could leave you dead, hurt, or worse. To leave the safety of your home for a pointless ingredient for dinner, one you could easily go without but stubbornly won't. Ginger root, a simple ingredient for stir fry, had led you here. Barely 5 minutes from your home, yet in a completely new area.

Hidden behind your cozie apparent laid a maze of buildings, dark alleys weaving between their roads. It wasn't the best part of the city. But with what you could afford, it was the best for you and closest to your work. It was lucky you even found housing in the bustling city of Musutafu. Tho, with the constant casualties, maybe not so much. It seemed the city took an odd turn when pro-heroes DynaMight and Deku left hero society. Intern, causing considerable other heroes from their graduating year to also leave. The news turning many of the streets, especially yours, into less-than-stellar areas.

"You shouldn't live there; I could pay for you to be where the stars are." Izuku had told you, his green eyes shining against his dark circle.

"I'll be fine Izuku! Plus, I know you'll be there to protect me!" you had cooed. It was dangerous, both to live in that area but talk to the leader of the 'New Age' with such a teasing tone. Anyone else would be dead, but not you. Izuku signed, placing his hands on your sides and looking down at you. He searched your face, trying to find any possible crack he could talk you into his idea.

You'll be the death of me, doll." he groaned dramacitly. His wild green eyes glanced back down at you. "Just don't leave the house at night, okay, doll? Promise me." "I promise ZooZoo!" you had so gleefully said, finger fixing his red suit tie.

The old conversation rang in your head; that was before you both got into a heated fight. One that caused you to leave the house in despair.

He had called you weak, and a joking argument turned heated quickly. "I'm not helpless, Izuku!" "buy you are!" It'd been a lonely few days at your small apartment. Sitting on the decrepit couch that had begun to seem too big. Maybe it was your depressed stupor that led to this rooky mistake.

"Fuck fuck fuck!" you whispered. What was the point of getting an ingredient for a dish if you'd never get to even make it back home? You had been too stubborn, and it was only dusk at the time. You had time to run down to the store and grab it before it turned dark, you debated. You had managed to grab the ginger, quickly cashing out and beginning your trek to your apartment. “Come on… come on…” you whispered, begging the sun to go slower. "C'mon!" your feet picked up their base.

"Hey, pretty!" a voice called from the ally.

"Crap". Your feet picked up their pace.

"Come on! We just wanna talk." you waited for the sound of Izuku's voice to help you, to tell them you're both busy, and flash his neon eyes, but there was only silence. Right, he was gone.

"Sorry, I need to go. Have someone waiting for me." it was a lie, but a hopeful one. Maybe if they knew you were expected somewhere they leave, you'd have someone looking for you; you weren't worth the trouble. You were wrong.

"Oh, cmon I'm sure they can wait a bit."

Your eyes squeezed shut as you pressed your hand to the brick wall. In your panic, you had lost track of where you were, instead ending up in a place you knew nothing about, in an ally with a dead end. "Fuck fuck FUCK!" you cried, palm slamming on the wall as you slowly slid down. Tears burned your eyes as you sat on the ground, watching the predators creep ever closer to its prey.

The scruffy ally light above you barely made the two men visbale. You watched one's arms turn sharp as skin-colored blades as he inched closed with a sickening grin. The others, you couldn't tell what their quirk was, if they had one at all, but he held a gun tightly. That was deadly enough to a quirkless user civilian like you.

"Now come on pretty, just come with us peacefully, and ya won't get hurt. I'm sure your family will pay to get you back." "and if they don't, well, take great care of you." you had long dropped your canvas bag and, ironically, the ginger root you ventured out for. Yet they hadn't stopped for the bag, and considering neither held it, their intentions had never been to get the bag. Your body shook, and Li quivered, face becoming hot with fear and horror. You watched as they inched to you, your body caving in more. "Izuku…" you whispered as though a small prayer.b "Izuku!"

You screamed, your throat raw from tears and its pitch. The men seemed to pause at your sudden outburst before appearing to become angered at your choice to yell. "Fucking whore- shut it!" "Izuku!" you wailed, body caving as you waited for pain. "IZUKU," you flinched as you heard a loud pop and felt something small shower your body. The dingy ally light shattering as something sharp and quick hit it. Another boom sounded, a shriek leaving your lips at his proximity to your head. Green light slammed into the wall behind you, sending cracks up the foundation. "Doll…" "Zoo-coo" you rasped out. You opened your eyes, staring at the ground below you, watching it light up with the lumination of green flicker lighting. Slowly, your body sat up, your tears blurring the gory sight before you. He stood there, dressed in a suit vest and shoes, green hair not even out of place. He seemed more displeased and worried than angered.

"I-km sorry! You were right!" you shuffled, body caving again as tears raked your body. Fear still gripping every bone. "I should have listened! I'm sorry I left! I'm sorry I yelled!" you cried. The realization of how helpless you were fully settled itself upon you.

"Sh shh, Dolly, it's okay."

His body bent forward as he effortlessly picked you up. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you squished yourself closer. "I've got you." he calmly coded, kicking a limp arm out of his path as he walked you both out of the ally. "You're moving in with me tonight." it was firm, a demand, no room to argue, not that you could or would. Your tearful state leaving you in hiccups. "I need to keep my doll safe, and you're only safe with me."

#bnha headcannons #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #bnha writing #villian deku #villain izuku #izuku x y/n #izuku x reader #midoriya izuku #bnha izuku #izuku midoriya #villain deku #izuku midoria x reader

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daydreaming-en-pointe · 5 months

Text

A very Spidey Christmas - 42!Miles

Pairing: e42!Miles Morales x fem!Spider!Reader hehehe green and purple aesthetic (Hobie, 1610!Miles, and Margo are here too) (1610!Miles will be highlighted to avoid confusion)

Word count: 632

Warnings: Spider-Man kiss! Hobie and Miles walk in on reader and 42!Miles kissing, awkwardness, Hobie being a bit of a prick?, 42!Miles’ nickname is Milo :) (inspired by @kyngjaice ‘s Mylo! <3)

A/N: guys this is my first time writing for 42 miles 😭 i have no idea how to write for him i’m just bumbling along fr 😞

“¿Cómo diablos…?” (How the hell)

You froze at the familiar voice coming from below you, embarrassment flooding the corners of your brain that weren’t occupied with finding a way out of this mess.

“Hey, Miles,” You tried to greet him by clumsily twisting around to give him a little wave. “This is actually very therapeutic. Wanna join me?”

“Look, ma, you know I love you, but this seems like a next-level dumbass move. How did you manage to get stuck tangled in tinsel on the damn ceiling?” Miles stood with his hands on his hips, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion as he craned his neck up to study the way your limbs were tangled together in the itchy silver decoration.

“It’s not just tinsel. My webs are up here too,” You chuckled awkwardly, watching Miles’ eyebrows skeptically sail up toward his hairline. “And don’t worry. This is, uh… a clever ploy to lull you into a false sense of security and get you to… show affection and loving concern. Yeah, that’s what this is. Stop looking at me like that!”

Miles held his palms up in surrender, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I assume you don’t need my help, then? I’ll leave you to… whatever you’re doing. Have fun-”

“Nonono wait, please - my arms are starting to hurt,” You gave him a pout and he sighed, already reaching into the inner pocket of his jacket. “Okay, hold still.”

You saw a flash of silver, heard a small ripping noise as the tinsel around your limbs loosened, and blinked in surprise when Miles reached out and caught the blade calmly, the tinsel falling down with it.

You half-dropped down, shooting a web and hanging upside down from the ceiling so your face hovered only inches away from his. Before he could move back, you grabbed the sides of his face, pulling him into a kiss. It barely took a few milliseconds for him to melt completely into it, you noticed with a grin.

The sound of clapping split the still, silent moment wide open. Miles pulled back, his reflexes for loud sounds from being the Prowler kicking in. You turned to glare at the intruders, softening your gaze once you saw who it was.

“Sorry, mate, did we interrupt somethin’?” Hobie, to his credit, was trying his best to squash the broad grin on his face but wasn’t making any progress. Miles - the other Miles - looked mortified, trying in vain to tug at Hobie’s arm to drag him somewhere else.

Miles mouthed I’m so sorry at you, giving up and hiding his face in his hands like he wanted to disappear into the ground. “Not so ‘eartless after all, eh Milo?”

Margo suddenly appeared with a small flash of neon purple light. “Hey, guys, have you seen Gwen? She said she’d come Christmas shopping with me but I can’t find-”

The virtual spider-girl paused to take in the scene in front of her. The moment she made eye contact with (your) Miles, some telepathic message seemed to have passed between them.

“Okay, Hobie, Miles, who’s up for some Gwen-hunting?” At Miles’ exasperated expression, Margo quickly caught herself. “Er, Christmas shopping. But we need to find Gwen first and… you know what I mean. Let’s get going, shall we?”

She shooed both of them past your Miles, practically pushing them out of the room. “Simp.” She whispered to Miles as she passed him, giving him a smug little wave. “You owe me now!”

Miles glowered in her direction, subconsciously fiddling with the end of one of his braids. “Assholes,” He mumbled grumpily under his breath, though the traces of a smile hovered over his lips.

“He says while smiling,” You teased, detaching yourself from the ceiling and dropping onto your feet.

“Should’ve just left you up there.”

@vhstown @l0starl @tatumis-a @deritosmi @therealloopylupin2099 @hobiebrownismygod

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bitchsister · 2 months

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okay but what would gale’s role play in the lucky charms au . 👁️ would he be bucky’s roommate or

Ooohhhh hmmmm nooooo I think Bucky likes living in his little palace alone and having Curtie over whenever he wants.. BUT… Gale is hmm.. maybe a forensic psychologist. He’s working with Bucky on a specific case??? Maybe besties too?? I could see Gale being a therapist. He’s soft and understanding. He likes to listen. And watch.

Try as I might to have some self control and STOP MYSELF from writing or like maybe edit shit down but I simply can’t shut the fuck up. Have this literal entire chapter of SOMETHING???

If yall don’t like this shit don’t freakin READ IT: exhibitionism, kinda threesome, buttplugs, slutty Curt

“You know, you shouldn’t even be in here for all this, Angel.” Bucky eyed Curtis who was sitting in a leather chair beside the fireplace, legs everywhere as he flipped through pages of a coffee table magazine, a LIFE on World War II. “I’m sure we’re breaching some sort of client confidentiality clause.”

“Hey, maybe he’ll learn somethin’.” Gale shrugged, sat at Bucky’s desk where they went over case files together. “What are you goin’ to school for, Curt?”

“Aerospace engineering.”

“Oh..”

Curt popped his head up over the back of the chair, Bucky’s blue beanie pulled over his wild hair he had no plans on taming that day. “Won’t even know I’m here.” He sunk back into his spot, legs pulling him into a curve with his magazines laid over his thighs, most of them on wars past.

As he lounged, It was hard not to listen. Whatever case the two had been working on together seemed rather brutal, and Curt sat there soaking up all the details he could to piece together what exactly had happened.

Bucky didn’t like talking about work with Curt, for their time together was sacred to him and if they began tainting it with talks of legal matters like if his client would be sentenced to life in prison or not, then his entire life would he engulfed by it.

Curt was his one and only escape.

“Hey..” He peeked over the chair again, only his eyes and the beanie visible. “Sorry fellas, but — ain’t they checked the cameras by Neon?”

“What’s Neon?”

“The arcade.” Curt seemed baffled. Though, the more he thought about it, the more he recognized a lawyer and a criminal therapist may not know the ins and outs of every arcade in the city. “It’s right next to the Buzz.”

“We’re not detectives, Curt.” Gale shrugged a shoulder, though he’d brought up a decent point. “How do you know they have cameras? Seems nothing else on the street does.”

Curt hid himself behind the chair again, his lips tugged into a smirk as he shrugged his shoulders.

He’d been into more petty crimes as a college freshman. He was more broke then than he was now and he had to get it out of his system somewhere — the arcade, unfortunately, was one of his usual victims.

“Worth a shot.” Bucky grabbed his phone to send out a few texts, not noticing the way Gale had been eyeing Curt, soaking up every detail of him that he could possibly see, although he’d been practically engulfed in fabric — a big sweater that swallowed him, jeans, Bucky’s beanie.

Curt was a cutie, and Gale had become accustomed to his and Bucky’s dynamic over time, though at first he’d always wondered why Bucky didn’t settle for someone out of college, perhaps in his field.

Someone who’d understand him.

Yet, it was clear almost right away nobody understood Bucky more than Curtis did.

Gale almost envied that.

“You might wanna switch majors, Curtie.” Bucky stood and leaned over the chair, hovering upside down over Curt who beamed up at him, their lips eventually locked in what eventually began to look like an intense make out session to Gale, which he had used as an excuse to scuttle away.

“Gotta split.” He blurted, and disappeared to hide his blush in his car where he sat for awhile just to catch his breath.

Things went on that way for some time — Bucky and Curt growing increasingly comfortable around Gale who never made them feel like they had to hide any parts of their relationship, but this was of course due to his own curiosities.

Gale had never kissed a man. Never thought about it, really, until he met Bucky’s sometimes-slutty College Kid boyfriend Curtis who liked to run around in his underwear in the mornings and lounge shirtless in Bucky’s study during afternoons, hitting his dab pen by the window bench and reading while he and Bucky worked together on their case studies.

As one would have it, Gale had found himself growing increasingly distracted as months passed by — and Bucky had begun to notice.

“Take a picture.” Bucky murmured, lifting his nose from the stack of court room transcripts in front of him to eye Gale who’d might as well be drooling, his gaze chained to Curt who twirled the hair at the nape of his neck with his fingers as he read the Fundamentals of Aerodynamics, a lollipop shoved in his cheek.

It seemed too perfect.

Almost cinematic.

His brain had already seared the image into his memory — no picture needed. “I’m sorry.” Gale murmured, having no real excuse for himself. “Daydreaming.”

“About?”

Gale looked down, blinking a few times to ground himself in the current reality that crashed upon him, which was explaining his fascination with his best friend and case partners boyfriend. “S’— Uh- I -“

“He distracting you?”

Silence, except the far off rustle of a page flipping in the distance.

“No - no - it’s - no-“

“S’okay, Gale.” Bucky’s voice was a low whisper, his back hunched over the desk to inch closer. “What’s the first thing you look at? When you look at him.”

Both of them were watching Curtis then, drawn in again by his presence. He was hardly doing anything special — in fact, he was reading what anyone else would consider to be one of the most boring books on planet earth, but he made it look so good. So intriguing.

Before Gale could stop himself, he blurted a quiet “His mouth.”

“Ooh,” Bucky tsked as he nodded his head, “Nice little mouth, huh? I think it’s his hands for me.” His voice got even quieter, deeper. “He uses both of ‘em, if you were wondering.”

Gale had gone to stand but Bucky slapped his hand against his wrist, pulling him back down to his seat. “Why do you always run off?” He took note of Gale’s reddened complexion and the sheen of sweat glazing his cheekbones. “Sit.”

He plopped back down in his chair.

“It’s — it’s not right, Bucky.”

“What’s not right?”

“He’s your boy. It’s not — I shouldn’t be looking at him like that.”

Bucky was using his Attorney at Law hypnosis on Gale, and it was working. “What way do you look at him?”

“Like I’d eat him.”

“And would you?”

Gale swallowed the lump in his throat, watching Curt pull the baby blue lollipop from his lips and flip another page, his body contorted in a way that’d pinch Gales back if he tried it, but Curt was like a cat in that way. Always finding the strangest positions to lounge. “I’d lick the plate.”

More silence, but Bucky had toed Gale’s ankle beneath the table as they bounced heat off of one another.

“He’d let you, you know.”

Bucky was never good about sharing, but something about Gale had tweaked the same nerve that Curt had the first time he met him.

“Wait. Have — have you talked about it?”

“Oh, plenty.” Bucky rolled his eyes, as if the question was silly, though he’d already forgotten who was the first to bring it up. They’d both agreed that there was something special about Gale — something neither of them could quite put their finger on. “He’s fond of you.”

Gale sounded far away, “Fond..” he breathed, hardly able to slow his thoughts long enough to realize what had just happened in the span of only two minutes.

Admittedly, it’d felt nice to get it off his chest. He didn’t have to hide his stares anymore, or act as though watching the two of them make out wasn’t one of the hottest things he’d ever seen in his fucking life.

What he hadn’t anticipated was for Bucky to call Curt over who whined at the interruption, folding a corner of his book to mark it before he walked the floor, standing beside Bucky with a tilted head. “What?” He mumbled, his brow furrowed like he’d been woken up from a nap.

“Don’t be a brat.” Bucky pulled Curt into his lap ass first, back pressed to warm chest. Curt was facing Gale then, his legs hooked around Bucky’s thighs that pried themselves apart which had in turn caused Curt’s legs to spread and his cheeks burn red hot almost instantly. “He said he’d lick the plate.” Bucky whispered into his ear, nipping at his lobe. “What do you think?”

Curt grinned like a devil, settling into Bucky’s lap, allowing himself to melt there. Blue on blue, Curt on Gale. They stared at one another but Gale had glanced away here and there as to not burn holes into Curt’s skin. “Lick the plate, uh?” He barked and Gale found himself flinching at his own words coming from someone else’s lips. “I’d like to see ‘em try.”

Bucky glanced to Curt, made sure this was truly okay, and once he’d been fully convinced, he undressed Curtis like a doll, displaying him again in the same position with his back against Bucky’s chest, his legs spread over his boyfriends thighs, shown off to Gale whose body had turned into a furnace.

“You don’t get to touch yet.” Bucky’s said to Gale once his fist began working itself over Curt’s cock that looked just the way he had always fantasized it would, perfectly pale pink, wet, stood all proud of itself against the peach fuzzy hair below his navel.

“S’fine.” Gale stuttered. He’d been more than happy to watch.

“You like watchin’ me, Galey.” Curt moaned around the stick of his lollipop, leaning his head against Bucky’s chest, his sights still trained on Gale who couldn’t believe his fucking eyes. “Gotta admit, I love givin’ you somethin’ to look at.”

Of course he’d noticed.

Of course he’d played into it.

Of course.

If he was eating a snack, he’d lick his fingers one by one when he was finished. If he was smoking, he’d do it in the sluttiest way he could and if he was reading, which was Gale’s favorite, he’d usually do it with a lollipop in his mouth.

Curt might make himself seem simple, ditzy, but the truth of the matter was that he was going to school to be a fucking aerospace engineer — and was on the fast track to graduating early.

He knew what was up.

“How’s he look?” Bucky looked over Curt’s shoulder to watch his own hand, and then over at Gale. “Must be better up close, hm?”

Gale nodded slowly, forgetting how to breathe.

He noticed the plug, the one shaped like a heart, right between Curt’s cheeks that were spread from Bucky’s knees prying his thighs apart, and felt his own heart stop. “What is that?” He whispered, his brows furrowed.

Gale had much to learn.

“S’a plug.” Bucky had finally worn Curt down but after the first time using it, he never had to ask again. “Been wearing it often, haven’t you, baby?”

Curt nodded his head eagerly, his jaw slack as his hips rocked upward into Bucky’s fist, arms reaching upward to rake his fingers into damp curls. “Y’know how many times I’ve played with myself in front of you, Gale?” Curt whimpered, his demeanor shattered momentarily by a moan but he continued to show himself off like he was for sale. “And you had no idea?”

“I — “ Gale bit his lip, “Really wish someone had said something earlier. Jesus fucking Christ.” He watched Curt adjust his grip, ass on Bucky’s knee instead to rut against the plug. “I’m - I - this is fucking insane.”

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion and yet, way too fast.

The excitement of being watched had sent Curt into making a mess of himself and Bucky’s trousers, though Gale had felt a sense of relief because of it.

Had he been made to sit and watch any more, he would have died.

(I’m forcing myself to stop here.)

#💌#i am mentally unwell #I literally couldn’t shut up #curtbucky #yoyo writes #Curtbuckygale #lcau

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moralesmilesanhour · 9 months

Text

boxes

summary: miles encounters some old memories while cleaning his room. wc: 553 genre: gen, angst-ish a/n: this was partially inspired by/in conversation with that one comic where miles helps out a kid who's being bullied for his fashion (amongst other things), but also by the fact that miles has seemingly pushed aside pursuing art to focus on physics in the film. what other interests could he have possibly left behind?

August marked yet another summer vacation that passed like it had somewhere to be, which meant that Rio Morales made her son clean out his closet again to prepare for the upcoming semester. She made sure to emphasize that she really meant it this time, leaving Miles to begrudgingly peel himself off of the living room couch and get his friend Ganke on the phone to help out.

It was now evening–around six o’clock–and the sun’s afternoon rays finally began to weaken into soft golden light, filtering through the blinds in strips across the two boys’ faces.

“I have literally never seen you wear these,” Ganke remarked as he held up a pair of beat-up converses. “You keepin’ ‘em?”

Miles made a face at the sneakers, with their unconfident, messy lines and muddy neon colors. He recalled being laughed off of the playground during recess for the ugly zebra pattern that he had spray-painted along the backs of them with stencils. His father clapped him on the back afterwards, praising how “creative” and “ahead of his time” Miles was. It didn’t comfort him much, but he grinned and thanked his dad so that he’d drop it before dinnertime.

“Nah, we could throw those out. They’re too small for me to wear, anyway.”

“What about this? Cool patterns.”

Ganke coughed as dust flew off of an old cropped bomber jacket. The oversized sleeves boasted an array of patches and buttons, which Miles recalled shoving into his pocket whenever he snuck over to Uncle Aaron’s. He took the jacket from the other boy and ran a hand over the square pieces of fabric attached haphazardly to the front. Rio had given him the scraps from her sewing kit to mess with back when she still had a bit of free time on her hands to mend clothing.

The zig-zag stitches were far from clean, with each seam a slightly different distance apart from the next. Miles had only been worried about the colorful fabric staying on for long enough for him to wear it to school.

This soon became a non-issue, seeing as he only did so once. Miles swallowed, not wanting to recall all of the new words he had learned that day.

He never did get good at sewing.

“Miles. You alright, man?”

The boy’s head snapped up.

“Y-yeah, I’m good. We can toss this one too.”

Ganke noticed Miles averting his eyes and raised an eyebrow.

“You sure you don’t wanna like, give it away or something?”

Miles turned to him and scoffed, “To who?”

“I dunno,” His friend shrugged. ”I’ve seen people who dress like this that might want it.”

“And do the 'people you’ve seen' in question reside in this area code?”

“...No.”

“Thought so,” Miles said with a teasing grin.

He gave the jacket one last look, and noticed the tag in the back. It was signed with a bright yellow highlighter in a ten-year-old’s handwriting, before he’d perfected his signature. Did that kid, who had been unworried about whether his sneakers were creased so long as they were colorful, deserve to have all of his hard work thrown away? Just like that?

“Y’know what? I’ll…keep it in a box, or something. With the shoes.”

“Alright, cool.”

And that Miles did, in the same box as his old suit.

#miles morales #spiderman across the spiderverse #miles morales fic #miles morales angst #miles morales x reader #moralesanhour #atsvplatonic #atsvgen

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rosexhart · 2 months

Text

Waiting for Sunset

———————————————————————-

Gekko x Reader

Accidentally running into the agents of Omega Earth, you are taken hostage. Hostages aren’t common for them, but you seem to be the exception. So much for your first time in L.A.

Word count: 4.4K

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part4

———————————————————————-

The next few days were quiet. There was a mission that Gekko and the majority of the people I’d met had to attend. The other agents I really didn’t know. I spent most of my time training and working on paper work for Cypher. It was a slow few days. When everyone did come back, it was an unsettling feeling. A quiet had settled over them. Even Gekko’s usual loud and bubbly personality was suppressed by a heaviness. During a more quiet evening Brimstone called a meeting with all agents. We all piled into the living area, and I sat with Gekko and Neon. Brim had the screen switched to a slideshow with the only text reading— Project Mirror.

“Alright Agents. As you know, Omega Earth is continuously evolving as are we.” He started, “Which means we are expecting them to have a new agent same as us within the month. We need to stay alert. We also have a new issue. They took their first hostage and we need to make sure they take no others. From now on I want to make sure a few of you are checking the surroundings areas for any wandering civilians as a precaution for the time being.” Brim mentioned before clicking a button. The slide changed.

“First up, we are going to get changing recon rotations.” Brim’s voice began to drone and I spaced out for a while. Gekko’s hand patting a constant rhythm on his leg, and when he wasn’t doing that his leg was bouncing.

“Any questions?” Brim asked as I finally came back to my senses. There was a silence among us.

“Good. Dismissed.” Brim said stepping away as quite a few people began to walk away or chat.

I was about to do the same and see if Cypher had any new work for me when Gekko pulled me aside.

“Hey, do you wanna get some fresh air?” He asked me and I nodded with a light smile. We took the teleporter up to the place I first came into when I was brought here. It was always more comfortable up here.

“Thanks Gekko,” I said softly as we walked around the broken courtyard.

“No problem, I know how stuffy it gets down there especially for the little guys.” He said walking with me and kicking a rock along with his foot.

“Speaking of, where are they?” I asked and he patted his bag.

“In here, I’d let them out but man my brain is melting and I just need a quiet minute.” He said and I laughed.

“I get that,” I said back brushing some hair out of my face that had fallen there with the wind.

“Oh me and a couple of the other agents were planning on doing some shopping later this week. You should join us.” Gekko said speeding up his pace to walk in front of me, while also walking backwards so he could face me.

“That sounds like fun but I doubt Brim will let me out.” I mentioned and he shook his head.

“Leave that to me, I’m sure with a little persuasion we can convince him to let you leave at least for a few hours.” Gekko said and I rolled my eyes.

“Good luck with that.” I said and he smiled, slowing back down to walk by my side again.

“No luck needed when you’re me.” He said and I laughed. A whirling of machines and clicks sounding behind me somewhere. Gekko’s head turned and he waved. I looked back to see a camera with a faint blue glow to the lens studying us.

“That’s just one of Cyphers cameras.” He mentioned as the camera folded back and practically disappeared against the ruined brick.

Later going down to Cypher’s lab, I stopped for only a moment noticing a faint line that crossed the door way. I passed through it with ease before Cypher turned and looked at me.

“Enjoy your time with Gekko?” He asked and I nodded.

“Yeah. He’s growing on me.” I stated as I sat down at the little makeshift desk he had set up for me.

“Gekko is a good person, but getting those small creatures of his was a mess.” He said shaking his head while working on something.

“What am I working on today?” I asked as I looked over the manila folder with a tentative gaze.

“Need you to go over the last mission reports… I felt like Brim was missing something.” He said as he typed in a code on his computer. I nodded as I sat down to look over the reports. He was right. There had been some type of change from the last mission to this one. They were getting more aggressive.

“Cypher this isn’t right is it?” I asked looking over a report a final time and he looked over at me with a sigh.

“I was worried you may say that. It is in fact truth. I’m not sure what changed in their tactics but we are going to have to evolve ours or risk a detonation.” Cypher said and a lump formed in my throat.

“Can I help?” I asked and he turned looking at me. “Not unless you become radiant overnight.” He stated and I hummed in thought.

“Maybe not radiant but good with a weapon.” He laughed and nodded.

“I like your thinking.” He stated and we worked in quiet the rest of the day.

The next day was much the same, but I was pulled away from tasks by Gekko.

“Come on,” he said pulling me back outside, “it is essential to me that you learn something outside of the scary protocol so I’m gonna teach you my spray painting skills.” He said spinning a can in his hand.

“Spray paint? I thought that was Raze’s thing?” I mentioned and he looked at me.

“We are all allowed to have the same hobbies. Hers just also involve explosions.” He said with a smile as he started painting on a rather large canvas that was precariously hung from the bricks.

“Ok, we’ve got a nice foundation, now,” he pulled me over by the wrist and put the can in my hand, “I’m just going to help you with the finer details, but what do you want to make?” He asked and I looked over the blank canvas.

“How about something simple, like your wingman?” I asked and he smiled.

“Don’t giving the little guy an ego.” He said as he positioned his hand over mine, and helped me make the basic shape of wingman. “Good, now we go in with a little lighter just to add some high lights to him.” He said as he picked up a lighter color. He was closer now, his chest brushing against my arm and shoulder as he stepped back behind me. He was close and only now I realized how much time we truly had been spending together. It was making my heart beat a little faster. Perhaps I was just over thinking our interactions.

“Piece of cake,” he said as he took the can from me and picked up another. My hand and wrist already spackled with flicks of paint. “Now we can add more line work.” He said and we continued like this for probably a half hour. My breath constantly catching anytime his hand met mine. Finally after a little bit of time we stepped back and there was wingman, holding a weapon, looking back at us in his spray painted glory.

“Not bad,” he said looking at me, his own hand covered in flecks of paint.

“Well you did it, I just held the can.” I stated and he waved it off.

“Nonsense,” he stated, “you got the makings of an artist if I have anything to say about it.” He tidied up the paint cans and glanced at me.

“So uh… I was thinking.” He started and I crossed my arms.

“That’s dangerous,” I said and he scoffed with a laugh.

“Shut up, I was thinking maybe you could join the rest of us for movie night. If you’re up for it.” He asked and I raise an eyebrow at him.

“What movie?” I questioned and he shrugged.

“It’s Raze and Killjoy’s turn to pick tonight so your guess is as good as mine.” He said standing up straight again.

“Alright,” I said with a shrug and he smiled.

“Cool,” he said as he brushed off his hands, “Let’s get back I’m sure they are wondering where we are.” I nodded in agreement as we headed back for the teleporter. A whirling noise caught my attention and I glanced as Gekko went through the teleporter. There I saw one of Cypher’s cameras, but the blue hue was more of a red now. I made a mental note of it before also stepping into the teleporter.

Once back down in base, I split ways with Gekko and got myself cleaned up. I brushed back my hair from my face and stood in my room looking over my clothes and getting into something more casual. Not exactly pajamas but just more comfortable than my everyday wear. There was a rhythmic knock on the door I’d come to know as Gekko’s and I went and opened it. He smiled as me as Wingman raced in.

“Hey, dude!” He called out chasing the little guy into my room. I didn’t mind him being in here but it would be a lie if I said it didn’t make my face flush. He snatched up wingman and looked around at the little decor. “Man, you really got nothin’ in here.” He said and I huffed.

“I haven’t really left since I got here.” I mentioned and he looked back to me.

“If I don’t have any missions we will go out tomorrow so you can at least get a few things.” He said gently as he walked back out of the room with the little creature garbling at him. We walked out into the living space were several already were. Killjoy, Raze, Yoru, Pheonix, Jett, and Neon. They all looked more comfortable in their pjs and were sat in what I assumed was their respective spots. Gekko went and sat down, and I debated sitting next to Jett and Neon, but Gekko patted the cushion next to him. I went and sat next to him as Killjoy used the remote to start the movie. The caption called the movie, Prey. Not sure if it really was any could, I could only focus on Gekko. He bounced his leg again, his arms spread out on the back of the couch, the little dude tucked between us, garbling at anything scary. I leaned forwards scared to make him uncomfortable by leaning back against the cushion. Maybe I’m over thinking this.

“Wow that was.. something.” Neon said as the credits started to roll through.

“Not our best pick,” Killjoy admitted as she stretched.

“It’s alright, always next time.” Raze said, playing with the ends of Killjoys hair.

“I kinda liked it,” Gekko said and Neon looked at him.

“You and I both know why you liked it.” Neon stated and Gekko immediately sat forwards and began to stutter.

“I— I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said clearing his throat before standing and picking up Wingman.

“Oh! A flustered Gekko! That’s a first.” Jett mentioned leaning forwards and rubbing her hands together.

“Alright I’m not getting ganged up on like you guys did last week. I’m going to bed.” He said walking away and then Phoenix stretched and stood.

“I’m out too, gonna need that beauty sleep.”

“What beauty? All I see is an out dated style.” Yoru mentioned also standing to leave.

“Man, why you always have to shit on my style?” Pheonix asked as he followed behind Yoru. Leaving me and the girls behind.

“So, (Y/N), you’ve been here awhile now. Any crushes?” Jett asked me and I looked over at her.

“Uh.. no? I haven’t spent time with anyone really. Except Gekko.” I mentioned and she huffed.

“Seriously? Figured Phoenix would find some way to spend a day training with you. Guys ego is bigger than his walls.” Neon mentioned and I laughed.

“Yeah no… I’ve only really seen him in passing. Gekko has done most of my training and spent time with me.” I said leaning back for the first time all night.

“Don’t let them pressure you,” Raze started as she freed her fingers from Killjoy’s hair. “These guys will do anything for a little bit of drama to spice up the day to day here.” Raze mentioned and Killjoy nodded.

“They were all over Raze and I asking questions about when we would get together.” Killjoy stated looking over at them and Jett shrugged.

“Can you blame me? You guys work well together. I wanted to see some action, and you two not just gawking from afar.” Jett stated standing up and jumping up from the conversation pit and glided to the floor towards the kitchen.

“And you have no concept of personal space to let us come together on our own.” Killjoy mentioned

“Ah it’s all potatoes. Speaking of, I’m gonna make food, do you guys want anything?” Jett asked as she opened the fridge.

“No, I’m off to bed.” Neon said getting up and heading out.

“Yeah same for us.” Raze mentioned and Jett pouted.

“(Y/N)?” She asked and I sighed.

“I’ll stay up for a bit.” I mentioned as I walked over to join her in the kitchen. She smiled as the rest left us.

As she cooked, I watched her carefully step around the kitchen, her short pony tail swaying with the movement.

“So, how much do you know about Gekko?” Jett asked me and I hummed in thought.

“Uh… well I know what his file says. I know he skates, and knows how to paint.” I mention and she turns and smiles.

“I will tell you, even though he was born and raised in Los Angeles, he is incredibly well versed in the world.” Jett says, spinning a knife in her hand.

“He seems like it. He seems very kind as well.” I mention and she nods as she turns away from me.

“Yeah but don’t let him fool you. He’s loud.. sometimes a bit what’s the word…passionate.” Jett said, still facing away from me. I wondered quietly what she meant by that.

Soon enough I was tucked back into my room away from everyone and silently debating going back outside just to clear my head. My thoughts slowly melting as I mindlessly scribbled on a piece of paper. The night grew later and I could deny it no longer. I needed to release some of my pent up energy. I exited my room and started down the quiet corridor that no longer seemed so ominous. I made my way for the teleporter and once outside began to walk where Gekko and I had earlier in the day. Seeing our painting still hung on the wall. I smiled as I let the cool air run over my skin. Garble garble. I looked down to see Wingman.

“Hey little dude,” I mentioned and he tilted his head. Garble garble garble.

“You know I can’t understand you buddy.” I said, crouching down to his level, he leaned into my hand and held it tightly. I smiled and pulled him up, placing him on my shoulder like Gekko often did.

“I imagine Gekko must be around if you’re out here.” I said as I continued. Garble garble.

“Wingman! Come on! I do not want to play hide and seek tonight dude.” I heard Gekko’s voice beyond a door way. I looked over at wingman.

“This is a common occurrence then?” I ask the small guy as Gekko rounds a corner. He jumps and holds a hand to his chest.

“Jesus… you scared the crap out of me (Y/N).” Gekko said and he looked at Wingman.

“Did you know that they were out here?” Gekko asked looking to Wingman. Garble garble. “Dude seriously? You don’t know the difference between them and a grilled cheese sandwich. Don’t tell me you could smell them.” Gekko said crossing his arms. I laughed a bit.

“He could smell me?” I asked tentatively as they both looked back to me.

“He picks up on small changes here and there.” Gekko said as he held his hand out for Wingman to jump to. Wingman did so willingly. Gekko looked back up at me.

“So… uh. Still on for shopping?” Gekko asked, and I smiled.

“Of course,” I stated and he nodded.

“Cool. Good.” He nodded dusting his hands off. The awkward tension growing around us was too much.

“Do you mind if I sit with you? I just need some quiet.” I stated and he nodded.

“Oh yeah, sure. You can sit with me.” He said and I smiled as we walked back to where he had been. A set up to deploy a bunch of training drones if wanted. We sat down on the wooden bridge boards and looked out into the distance. The moon barely gracing over our presence behind the cloudy skies.

“Cypher mentioned some concerns today..” I said looking over at him. His eyebrows raised a bit but he shook his head.

“Nothin’ we ain’t had before.” He said as wingman rubbed his tiny eyes.

“Does it not bother you?” I asked and he looked over at me.

“Can’t let it bother you. Life just happens. Gotta roll with the punches sometimes. We aren’t always going to win every battle.” Gekko said before looking off into the distance. I could only nod in agreement as we sat in comfortable silence.

A week or two had passed with Gekko and I still training together, I had begun to know the team a little better. Over all everyone had been very welcoming, and I had finally been allowed to add some personality to my room with small decorations. We were out today, the shopping center Jett chose was not really busy. The world felt off though. I could sense a tension in the air.

“Ayo, (Y/N),” a hand came in front of my face and I looked to Gekko, “you doin’ alright? Your heads been in the clouds.” He mentioned and I nodded.

“Yeah just dreading going back to the reports I know Cypher has waiting for me.” I mentioned and he nodded.

“That’s fair, not exactly fun.” He said stirring his boba.

“Enough work talk! (Y/N) you were searching for colleges before everything happened right? Why don’t you tell us about home?” Jett asked and tilted her head a bit at me and I smiled.

“Sure but maybe when we get back.” I said trying to shake my unease. Then, as if on cue, all of our earpieces rang.

“All agents return to base we have an emergency.” Brims voice was laced with a serious concern. We all stood up and were quick to make our way back.

“And just when I was starting to relax.” She mentioned.

When we got back to base everyone was readying up, and another announcement came over the ear piece.

“I want Neon, Jett, Omen, and KillJoy to my office.” Brim’s voices was heavy as Jett waved and raced to his office.

“Wonder what’s going on.” Gekko said as he set his hands on his hips. An alarm sounded and Gekko looked at me.

“Go to your room and lock the door.” He said swiftly as his creatures came out of his bag.

“What’s going on Gekko?” I asked and he shook his head.

“No time to explain, go to your room, and don’t come out until you get a notice from Brim.” He said and I nodded heading for my room as he headed off in another direction. My mind racing as agents passed me by. I closed the door to my room and locked it up tight. My heart racing. I braced the door with the door with the chair that came in the room. I stepped back and looked around the room. No way to communicate, no way to figure out what to do. My palms began to sweat and I dried them instinctively on my pants. I sat on my bed and pulled my knees to my chest. I could hear bits and pieces of conversation over the ear piece which eased my worry a little bit but not much. Soon enough there was an intense silence that made my ears ring. Then a static in my ear piece. It was loud and irritating. I slipped it out of my ear, and set it aside. There was a loud knock on the door.

“(Y/N), you in there?” Gekko’s voice called and I stayed quiet, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I instinctively held my breath and backed up from the door. My hands brushing over the cool metal of the desk. “(Y/N),” the door handle jiggled. I couldn’t hear anything for a moment. I shifted slowly, walking towards my closet to see if I could find anything I could use as some sort of weapon. My heart racing, the blood rush roaring in my ears as I took my umbrella. It would have to do. I held it tightly, and backed up once more. Waiting to see if they would break the door down. The hours ticked by, and I heard nothing for a long time. Then, a heavy knock.

“(Y/N)?” Brims voice called out, and I approached the door, “facility is secure, you can come out now.” His voice sounded right. I approached the door and slid the chair out of the way. Opening it, Brim stood there, looking down at me.

“How did they get in?” I asked and Brim sighed.

“We didn’t realize it, but they had access to the main teleporter and were able to manipulate it to get in. I’m having Cypher look it over now while all teams have been deployed to survey and make sure they aren’t detonating a spike.” Brim stated before turning on his heel and walking away.

“I suggest you go help Cypher.” He said as he headed away. I did as he said and made my way into Cypher’s lab. He was typing away viciously.

“Need some assistance?” I asked and he sighed, setting aside his hat.

“I would appreciate it.” He stated and I sat down in my space. There was a large stack of papers.

“Are the others ok?” I asked tentatively, and he paused.

“Yes,” he muttered, “Gekko is with Sage. He will be safer than most.” He stated, and I looked at him with a furred brow.

“I didn’t ask about Gekko.” I mentioned and he looked back at me.

“Figured you would.” He mentioned and I pressed my lips into a tight line. It was true Gekko was growing very swiftly on me but I didn’t think it was that obvious. “He also asked I keep an eye on you while he was gone.” Cypher mentioned before typing away again. My face flushed and I turned towards the work I had been given, hoping to distract myself with the work. A worried tapping of my finger on my pen was the only sound in the room at one point. I suppose it began to annoy the usually calm and patient Cypher as he walked over and took the pen from my hand.

“Let’s take a walk.” He said as he started out of the lab.

“What-What?” I said standing up and following him. We trekked through the facilities winding halls before Cypher walked out into the training area. He threw me one of his coins, which I’d come to learn are actually trip wires. I caught it and looked at him.

“Everyone at one point or another was scared of having their abilities. They are alarming, scary, and in cases like Neon, if they are not adequately handled, can kill the user.” Cypher said crossing his arms.

“Ok?” I said looking at the small device, “what does this have to do with anything?”

“You’re not adequately handling your thoughts.” He muttered, “You’re distracted, and it’s causing me to lose focus so.” He shrugged his shoulders, “you’re running drills until you can learn to focus. Gekko was much like you, a ray of sun light among a storm of anxiety about letting down his team. You have to realize you’re going to see enemies. You’re going to have problems. You have to learn to overcome come that anxiety in order to live and not just survive.” Cypher mentioned setting up one of his trip wires. “So… drills.” He said gesturing to the training grounds. I huffed before taking a breath and starting. He was right, but I’d never admit it.

It was sometime later I finally collapsed on my bed and took a breath. After a grueling few hours of drills and a long hot shower the wear of the training finally hit my body and the uncomfortable stiff mattress had never felt better. I was almost asleep when a small knock hit my door. I groaned and rose up from the bed, and approached the door. I opened it to see no one there and was about to slam it shut when I glanced down. Garble.

“Oh, Wingman? That must mean Gekko is back. What are you doing buddy?” I asked as I crouched down to his level. He came inside and I didn’t really think about how, but more why he looked even more tired than me.

“Shouldn’t you be with Gekko?” I asked and in his small noises he garbled before hopping up on my bed and flopping down. It made me giggle as his little body jiggled, and I walked over.

“Alright you can nap with me, but make room.” I said laying back down and covered us both up before letting the cool pillow ease the blood rush to my head. Sometime later I woke up to the soft Garbles of Wingman and looked up to see Gekko stood in the door way frozen in abject terror.

“I’m so sorry,” he said softly scooping up wingman and I shook my head.

“It’s fine, doesn’t bother me any.” I mentioned, rubbing my eyes a bit to look at him.

“I told him not to bother you while I got cleaned up.” Gekko said shaking his head. “I’ll make it up to you.” He said closing the door behind him. I looked at the clock and seeing it was late I rolled back over to sleep again. What a week.

#fanfic #fanfiction #gekko #gekko valorant #gekko x reader #gekko x you #i love gekko #valorant #valorant fanfiction #whose your agent?#I don’t know if I want to be him or date him

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1-800-luvmail · 3 months

Text

the nerve.

「 tws + notes: unedited, canon... violence? i mean nothing really happens, reader is just a weird lil fella (affectionate), not a meet cute,,, more like a meet stupid 」

「 gn!reader, no relationships established 」

↳ ft. montgomery gator

author's note: i had a whole idea for this. don't ask me what though becuz i have no clue anymore (｡•́-ก̀｡) ... like, the general idea (iirc correctly) was that eventually they'd be buddies and the reader would pretend to wanna help w/ the bonnie mystery or sumn while trying to fulfill their own motives— but whatever. but i clearly did not get to that at all (´｀;) and yes!!! the title is a reference to the song by the brobecks (⑅˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈ )

bright neon lights shine down onto your face as you step into the pizzaplex. there's no denying you feel out of place.

the commercialized rock music blasting from the speakers, the loud, boisterous, laughter of children, the eye-bleeding colours surrounding you— a complete sensory nightmare, all in one massive labyrinth of a building.

this would have terrified you in any other circumstance. and it does. yet, for some reason, you feel the corners of your mouth twitch up slightly at the sight of this place.

the allure of the pizzaplex is undeniable to anyone who approached it— but your fascination was something different entirely.

you were just here to observe the strange ways in which this place operated. you heard rumors... small whisperings that fazbear entertainment had somehow missed when cleaning up their image. they had a fair share of skeletons in their closet. and you, ever curious, wanted to see what hid behind that shining reputation.

the company's origins were largely covered up for the most part. all online research came up inconclusive, and for what you managed to scrape up, it ended up being nothing more than forgotten webpages, blog posts, and left over negative reviews.

you knew one thing for certain though: the mess all started with the animatronics.

so, no, you weren't here for the arcade, the pizza, the live performances— that was all low priority for you. you were here to examine the technology that they used.

making your own entertainment out of something that you'd otherwise not bother to take a second glance at, all while uncovering secrets that you've always wanted to hear? this is something you simply can't resist.

you'd do anything to find out the truth.

families and their children, teenagers looking for something to do– those were the people the pizzaplex intended to draw in. but of course, an establishment built on a shady foundation which never discloses their history that runs a high tech entertainment center is bound to draw in another demographic: people who want to uncover secrets.

you knew a fair share of urban explorers online— mostly fans— who’d try to break in after hours to get to places guests shouldn’t be, steal stuff they definitely aren’t meant to get their hands on (you recall specifically when snagged some seasonal accessories meant from glamrock chica which was… well. weird and specific but whatever), find merch in the back that went unsold or discontinued, or even just try to see if they still had bonnie's parts somewhere in the back.

that was a whole other thing in itself. you didn't know why that bunny was so popular, but it was undeniable the mystery of his sudden decommission was intriguing. you had decent knowledge on it. begrudgingly so. most people clogged online forums filled with their theories on it.

no matter what they were there for, they were practically always caught. they'd go explore but swiftly get caught, receiving hefty fines for trespassing and lifetime bans. if they were lucky enough to escape, they'd still get in trouble within the next few days. naturally, most people kept their investigations online. it was the smart thing to do.

but none of them were searching for what you wanted. you didn't care about the dead stock in the back, the animatronics seasonal accessories, and hell— not even the bonnie mystery.

so maybe it wasn't all too surprising you came to visit.

the first time you came, the establishment was in full swing. the busiest time for the pizzaplex, on the busiest day. you ended up watching a performance, grabbed some overpriced food to eat (the food made exclusively by staff bots- how fascinating...) and then, just picked up and left.

you weren't gonna stay and chat with the animatronics when they were being swarmed by children and devoted fans. no way. crowds were bad enough. crowds of children? you shudder just thinking of it.

the next few times, you were careful. you noted patterns of active hours and made sure to arrive right about when the daycare closed, in order to avoid the larger crowds. in the last few hours of the pizzaplex being open, you’d finally be able to stick around until closing to walk around and explore.

no, you never met your goal of actually talking to the animatronics, despite your interest in meeting any one of them (your social anxiety somehow was not limited to human interaction) so you just... lurked.

yes, you spent your time haunting the pizzaplex until it was time to go. with the sheer amount of hours that you spent there, you could've easily become another urban legend on the internet— the strange ghost of the pizzaplex that lurks and stalks around near closing hours. they look like a normal person– but look in their direction and they retreat! ...it might've been funny.

even though that wasn't the case, and you were practically nobody, you certainly didn't go unrecognized. ai facial recognition. what a creation! and though typically used for regulars and being able to address guests personally, it could be used for anyone who visited. not like you knew.

as you became more familiar with the place— in your cluelessness, the place became more familiar with you.

unknown to you, the working staff bots turned their heads to catch a small glimpse of you when you passed, the daycare attendant stared at you through the glass– even the glamrocks found themselves occasionally scanning the crowd for your face. you weren't just another person with too much time on your hands, you came here more often than almost any person ever had. and still, you never talked to a single one of them, never stuck around one area for too long, and didn’t have a routine to your visits. your motives remained unclear to them.

saturdays were more hectic than usual, and if you were even the slightest bit more sane, you would've at least thought twice to try and spend a full day here, opening to closing.

lucky for you, you did consider it twice! you thought it over many times– unfortunately, you were still lacking any form of sanity.

instead of just leaving at closing as per usual, you decided you would somehow hide after closing hours to explore the place once all operations had been shut down.

easy enough in your head. you knew a couple spots which were typically off limits to most people that you could camp out in undetected, previously used by more successful urban explorers. then you'd snoop around a bit more, and then sneak back out again. simple.

all you needed to do was avoid staff bots. challenging, yes, but not impossible.

the fated day came and went— and as they announced for closing and people trickled out, you knew that your day began.

finally. you would have some answers.

—

oh god. this was a bad idea. very, very bad.

something you hadn't known, was that the glamrocks doubled as security. they roamed the pizzaplex after hours in search of any intruders.

this fact really would've been humorous, if it wasn't absolutely terrifying right now. the things you were stalking were now stalking the halls for you.

so, here you were, in the darkened arcade, crouching in a corner, sandwiched between the walls and an unplugged game machine. you clasped your hand over your mouth to stifle your breathing, hearing large footsteps approaching.

don't make noise. don't move. don't even think of it. you watch as it passes, scanning the area for any sort of trouble. the silhouette of the animatronic is far enough to be blurry, but it would definitely notice you if you made any rash decisions. you count in your head mentally, making sure to wait until the coast is clear.

one. two… three… four. five. uh… six?... nothing— …nothing seems to be happening. oh fuck okay wait it turned around— go time! you thought to yourself. impatience was a vice. you’d come to realize that soon.

you slowly get up, elbows and knees awkwardly knocking against the wall and arcade machine noisily as you stand.

that's when you see a large figure slowly turn back around— no doubt, due to your loud attempt at getting out of your stupid hiding spot. your eyes widen in horror, trying to figure out which one it was, and if it had really seen you.

the large animatronic gator, you soon recognized, in fact did see you! it was rapidly heading your way after all.

squeezing out your hiding spot, you book it, making sure to try and get away as far as you possibly can— but it's no use.

fazbear entertainment made these things fast as fuck.

you find yourself backed into a wall, being stared down by an animatronic gator who looks like he's restraining himself from ripping you to shreds on the spot. you back into the wall, trembling.

his eyes scan you— and there's sudden recognition. unfortunately, it doesn't seem like a good thing, considering how he just seems to become more agitated by your presence.

he snarls, bearing his teeth at you. the razor sharp quality of the metal in his mouth make you wonder why this animatronic is allowed to be in an entertainment place for kids.

"you've got a lot of nerve, runt."

you stare like a deer in headlights. you didn’t run. you didn't move. your panic completely freezes you over, brain too busy thinking of a way to get out of this, to leave this place alive.

a claw lifts you up by the collar of your shirt, forcing you to meet his eyes.

"shit— no, no, no, please ‘m sorry—" your voice is shaking as you desperately search for the words to explain yourself. or at least get out of the situation you’re in. you thrash in his grasp to no avail.

it's all beginning to feel very humiliating. you wasted all this time for nothing. you weren't any detective. just someone with too much time. now, you'd probably die as a random, faceless, nobody who spent too much time at an entertainment center that catered to children's birthday parties.

at least you thought this cause of death was somewhat funny. despite how pathetic it was.

still, everything in your head was urging you to stay alive. even for a few minutes difference.

and suddenly, fight or flight weren't the only options you had anymore. a third one, scintillating and enticing, had graced your thoughts like an angel descending from the heavens.

lying.

"i just— i know it's weird and i shouldn't have trespassed, but i needed to talk to you after hours—" you ramble, your efforts feeling more futile as he lifts you closer, as if to eat you alive. you steel yourself.

"i just need to ask you about bonnie."

the gator goes unnaturally still at your words.

and then it ends here because nothing else was written. where was this gonna go? guess we'll never know. i don't remember where this was going either (。_。)

#the junkyard scraps #montgomery gator #fnaf sb #fnaf security breach #fnaf fanfic #montgomery gator x reader #but not really #maybe i'll continue this #probably... not.

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tomatoart · 11 months

Note

i was just wondering why you color the teeth of the characters different colors cus its a rlly cool detail but i wasnt sure why you did it. just a style choice maybe??? ANYWAYS love ur art, keep it up :D

THABK YOU SO MUCH OMG… tbh it’s a little mix of stylistic choice and reasons! it’s stylistic bc with everything being the same blue it gets a lil old for me so I like to mix up if there’s a green somewhere to compliment the full piece, especially if I find green teeth fit the characters pallet more than blue (like gwen w green looks nice to me since she has blue eyes) and I find blue teeth look nice with darker skin tones like miles/hobie! But it’s not always the case as It’s also used to show off that teeth aren’t all the same and some ppls teeth are darker or more stained :] sometimes when I use green teeth it’s to imply slight discolor! Usually I’d use a neon yellow green to imply yellow teeth- green (or darker disaturated blue) to imply common discoloration- and mid tone blue for white teeth :) it’s kinda a wild card to find out when I wanna show off that vs doing it just bc I think the colors look better different, but if it’s a group picture and they have diff colors it’s probably to imply diverse Smiles

like my resevil art: Leon has blue opposed to Luis’ neon lime green smile

or my mia and ethan art they have more green tints because I headcanon the mold in their bodies effects their appearance more!

But also sometimes it’s just to fit the persons pallet like my jerma or Vinny art

so at the end of the day it’s all just bc I hav a lot of fun with it and it’s one of my favorite discoveries I’ve made w my style!!! So I’m so happy you picked it out and looked at it so nicely!!!

#asks #not tomaart #I HOPE THAT MAKES SENSE !! I just do it to be silly sometimes but it’s fun to switchup!

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spicysix · 3 months

Text

girls make me wanna die

"the way we met not so unique / on the internet we make up things / a different story every person we see i'm writing poems and they're all online / under a different name, nothing like mine / i tried to tell her once, on a drunken night / but it came out all fucked like a bad pickup line i don't know when i fell. she doesn't know as well"

rating: T warnings: Eddie's trans in this fic, it's not a major plot point but it is a major Eddie characteristic heh. also, this is an Edancy fic, meaning Eddie and Nancy and i know that's not everyone's cup of tea so please for the love of god if you're not interested in this pairing, keep that to yourself, scroll the page, leave the fic untouched. don't like, don't read, all the maners. i think that's it word count: 6.1k author's note: fic idea and title from the song of the same name by The Aces. written for Lex's Spicy Six Summer Fanwork Challenge, for the prompt "rooftops". yes, i know i'm a little bit late (just six months), but it is Summer where i live right now so i think it still counts lmao. thanks again for hosting @thefreakandthehair ♡ also super thanks to my beautiful betas robin (@ronancevibes) and frankie (@blubblesandink) ♡

↳ read on ao3

I DON’T KNOW WHEN I FELL

The first time Eddie saw her, she thought she was a mirage.

It was Steve’s birthday party, and since the guy was still as popular as he used to be in high school, his house was packed. Eddie hadn’t seen her when she first arrived, and she later found out it was because she had been upstairs finishing getting ready with Robin.

But as she came down the stairs, all dolled up, a true femme divinity of Eddie’s most sapphic dreams, the neon lights were hitting her just right in a way that encompassed her with pink, purple and blue all around and it was one of the prettiest sights Eddie had ever seen. Eddie stood right at the end of the stairs and stared up at her, jaw on the floor, probably drooling all over her chin.

She probably could’ve fallen right then and there.

If she hadn’t looked at Eddie, still standing dumbly in the way, up and down with her eyes narrowed and lips turned down into a frown before she opened them to say, with the most velvet smooth, passive-aggressive voice Eddie had ever heard:

“Can you move?”

It wasn’t a request. It was a demand.

Eddie kinda wanted to bitch-slap her for it, but her own body betrayed her as she moved out of the way instantly and she smiled at her — almost fondly, but venomous, also all passive-aggressive and, honestly? Delicious.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

Eddie was pissed off and aroused to her deepest corners, and she would later find out that it wouldn’t be the first time Nancy Wheeler would piss her off and still have her do whatever she demanded with that silky way of hers.

Eddie didn’t see her anymore at all after that at the party, and still had no idea who she was for a whole week before she ran into Robin at the grocery store. She asked her who the girl was, describing her looks and clothes. She tried not to be too obvious about her annoyance and also attraction to the mystery girl, and she thought she succeeded because Robin didn’t shoot her one of her bombastic side eyes.

“Oh! Short curly bob, about yay high?” Robin asked, gesturing somewhere around her chin level. Eddie nodded as she turned to pick up some sugar. “Yeah, that’s Nancy.”

Eddie stopped with her hand mid-reach. “Steve’s ex, Nancy?” she asked.

“The one and only,” Robin snickered and Eddie blinked a few times in shock before proceeding with her shopping.

Eddie thought she knew a lot about the infamous Nancy Wheeler, because she had befriended Steve right after Nancy had broken his pure little himbo heart, almost eight years before. She knew Steve and Nancy had worked things out and were friendly now, but didn’t know they were friendly enough for Steve to invite her to his birthday. She shared those thoughts with Robin, who chuckled teasingly.

“Oh, sweet summer child. You have no idea of the intricacies of our friend group, do you?”

That was true. Eddie knew of Steve and Robin’s friend group from their hometown and she knew that it was a whole beautiful mess off queerness, but she hadn’t met anyone but Robin so far, even with the almost eight years of friendship with Steve — and probably only knew her because Steve and Robin were glued at the hip. She knew of Nancy, and of Jonathan, and of course, knewRobin’s girlfriend Vickie, but didn’t know what their intricacies were.

She was honestly a little scared to ask at that point, so she just shrugged and Robin and her continued their shopping talking of other stuff from then on.

She saw Nancy again a couple of months after Steve’s party, because then it was Vickie’s birthday party, and at least this time Chrissy was able to go so Eddie wouldn’t have to be stuck to Robin the whole night.

“I’m so glad I’m not missing this one. I mean, Vickie’s a great girl and of course she’s the main reason, but that Jon boy was looking delicious in the pics Steve posted and I’m so sad I missed seeing him looking like that,” she was rambling on and on about her crush as she reapplied lip gloss on the way to the bar Vickie chose to have her small party at. “Did you meet him at all?”

“No, I only saw him passing by. He did look good, smelled amazing too,” Eddie replied with a grin.

“Ugh, you’re no good as a best friend. You know I’ve been in love with him ever since Steve posted that picture last November! You had to befriend him!” she complained but she had a smile on her shiny pink lips.

“You can’t be in love with him, bitch, you don’t even know him,” Eddie replied.

“I so can, bitch. I feel it in my tits,” Chrissy ended the discussion as the Uber parked in front of the bar, and they left it laughing loudly after thanking the driver. “In my heart, I mean. Under the tits. If he’s not here today I’ll leave immediately!”

“I’ll tell the birthday girl you said that,” Eddie sing-sang as she started walking faster towards the bar entrance. Chrissy yelled after her as they walked through the doors still laughing.

To Chrissy’s delight, the Jon boy was there in all his scrawny glory where he sat across from Vickie at the table they reserved for the birthday. Vickie was excitedly talking to him about something, gesturing all around her as Robin looked at her with pathetic heart shaped eyes. Nancy, sitting beside Jonathan, was also paying attention.

No, she was not the first person Eddie noticed.

Eddie and Chrissy approached the table and Steve lit up at the sight of them from where he was sitting on the other side of Vickie.

“There they are! My favorite sapphics club is complete!” he was getting up from his seat as he talked, and Vickie wrapped up her story before getting up to greet them too.

Jonathan turned to Nancy and they whispered between them, and Eddie would’ve thought they were talking about Vickie’s story if Nancy hadn’t shot her a look from over Jonathan’s shoulder. He then looked over too and smirked before turning back to Nancy and saying something that made her hide a laugh behind her wrist.

“Why do you surround yourself with so many sapphics anyway?” Chrissy asked as she and Steve separated from their embrace, and Eddie finally tore her look away from Nancy and Jonathan to hug Vickie tightly.

“It’s the ally in me,” Steve answered and it got him a slap from his favorite sapphic who had also gotten up to greet the newcomers.

“You’re literally queer too,” Robin said as she made grabby hands at Chrissy for her own hug. Steve just cackled and shrugged.

They finished their greetings session and both Eddie and Chrissy handed Vickie their gifts — a matching set of earrings and a necklace — before walking back to the table. Aside from them, Jonathan and Nancy, there were only a couple more people that were introduced as Vickie’s work friends.

“Nice to finally get your name,” Nancy said with a smirk when Vickie introduced her to Eddie.

Eddie narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t ask for it when you were bossing me around like a bitch last time.” Eddie didn’t made clear who the bitch was. It was on purpose.

Nancy’s smile only widened with her answer as Jonathan hid a snort behind a cough.

“She tends to do that,” Steve said as he pulled a chair for Chrissy to sit at beside him.

“Excuse me?” Nancy asked, but she was still clearly being playful.

“Yeah, no, he’s right,” Jonathan said before sipping on whatever drink he had.

Nancy rolled her stupidly beautiful blue eyes. “Love when my exes team up against me.”

Eddie thankfully wasn’t drinking anything yet or she would’ve choked on liquid, and that would be worse than choking on thin air —which she did.

“What?” one of Vickie’s coworkers thankfully asked, and all of the long-time friends laughed together.

“Oh, isn’t that a long story…” Vickie giggled to her friend who just shrugged:

“We do have all night.”

Long story short, they all had had relationships in some way.

Not like Eddie or Chrissy could judge, since they both met Steve on different nights out and they both hooked up with him in the respective back alleys of the clubs they were in, and Chrissy and Robin were definitely flirting before Robin went all monogamist-serious with Vickie. And they wouldn’t judge even if it didn’t make them hypocrites because there was nothing wrong with all that anyway, but that’s an obvious statement.

But none of their things with each other had been serious or even consummated, meanwhile it was kind of funny that Nancy dated Steve and then Jonathan, and Jonathan dated Argyle who had been in the bathroom and appeared in the middle of the story, and who was now on his journey to woo Steve into a relationship, and Nancy and Robin also had a fling at some point and so did Jonathan and Steve.

Eddie felt tired at the end of the retelling and she had been sitting down the whole time.

“Ah yes, the amazing queer experience,” Vickie’s coworker who had initially asked commented at the end of it all.

They all laughed at that and the coworker — Eddie really didn’t get their name — waved a bartender over for some shots. Once they were delivered and everyone had gotten one, Coworker started a toast.

“To Vickie, and her hometown friends who all fucked each other!” they toasted, and everyone laughed louder as they clinked their tiny cups together before throwing the shots back.

Those were just the first shots of many that night, each round with a more ridiculous toast to accompany the ‘To Vickie’ one every time.

After a few hours Chrissy was best friends with Vickie’s coworkers, and Eddie still had no idea what their names were, and instead had found her way in between Jonathan and Argyle as they all talked about photography, an art they all shared their love for. Jonathan was actually a photographer himself. The talk went from classic photography, analog to digital, and just as they started talking about Instagram accounts, Chrissy stopped by, whispered something right by Jonathan’s ear that made him blush, and they left together. Eddie and Argyle traded knowing looks and continued the conversation without the person who had begun it, and soon Nancy took Jonathan’s seat instead.

“What’s the talk?” she asked while sipping her fruity cocktail that Argyle then took from her and drank before answering.

“Our favorite Instagram accounts. We were talking about photography, but…”

“Oh!” Nancy took her phone from the pocket of her dress — a dress with pockets, amazing; Eddie thought — and opened the app. “It’s not photography, but this one is my favorite of all times. It’s so inspiring to me,” she said as she found the profile she was looking for and then turned the screen for Eddie and Argyle to look at.

Eddie had a really hard time trying not to choke on thin air for the second time that evening.

The profile Nancy was showing was a poet’s page, by the name of M.W. and who posted small, handwritten poems with a beige and brown color palette, a drawn sheet ghost as their profile picture. Clearly anonymous, even with hundreds of thousands of followers, the person behind the poems and the page didn’t want people to know who they were.

The person behind the poems and the page was Eddie.

“What-” Eddie tried to talk, failed, cleared her throat and tried again, “What do you like about it?”

Nancy got this look on her face that Eddie hadn’t seen before so far. Something fond and sweet, her blue eyes like pools Eddie wanted to drown in. Her smile was wide and it turned her face to something entirely different, all the sharpness and sarcastic expressions Eddie had been graced with so far transforming into earnest softness.

“I’m a journalist, and I love writing and sharing stories. Poems have always been something I wouldn’t do, because they all seemed so hard and too complex and I always thought ‘normal’ people couldn’t do them,” she explained, looking Eddie in the eye the whole time. She was like Medusa, and Eddie was trapped paralyzed under her stare but with no intention of leaving any time soon. “And then all these modern poets came around on social media, and they have always spoken to me in some ways, but Emme…” She looked down at her phone screen again, that same soft look that made Eddie’s brain short-circuit. “I don’t know what it is, but they talk to me so personally. I love everything they write. They are delicate with words without losing their candidness, and forthright without losing their gentleness. I just… I’m very impressed and inspired by them.”

Maybe it was then.

Eddie, of course, had no idea what to answer to that. She received comments and messages every day about how her writing helped and affected people, but it had never happened in person because no one knew who she was. That was different. Nancy’s words echoed right into her chest, making it swell with pride, but she didn’t know how to respond. She just stared at the girl before her, hoping her expression wasn’t giving her away.

“That’s so nice, dude. They’re really nice poems,” Argyle said as he rolled through M’s feed. “Do you not like them, Eddie?” he asked, and Eddie shook her head to get out of her wandering thoughts before glancing at the screen Argyle was showing her.

She didn’t need to look too hard, she knew every single poem there by heart.

She shrugged. “I don’t… think too hard about poems, I guess,” she lied without thinking, already trying to come up with other topics she could suggest to stir the conversation before she admitted anything.

The only person who knew she was the one behind M.W. was Chrissy, and Eddie wasn’t ready to make it public — probably never would be. The words were too personal, open windows to her soul that she carefully curated, that she poured so much of herself into and she wasn’t ready to share the backstage of.

Eddie saw as Nancy’s eyes hardened again, as she shut her jaw firmly and she felt immediately sorry for her lie. She didn’t want Nancy to retreat, she liked seeing her vulnerable side. The side of Nancy that related to Eddie’s own vulnerability, even if she didn’t know it.

“Too bad.” And then she gave Eddie that sneering look, the same as she did from her superior level at the stairs of Steve’s house, that up-and-down look that made Eddie’s face turn into a scowl instantly.

Both their jaws clenched and they narrowed their eyes at the same time and stared at each other for what felt like hours, but was probably less than a minute, before getting up to walk to different directions, headed to different groups of other people to talk to.

“What the hell happened, man?” Argyle whispered softly to himself as he was left alone with all the tension still hanging in the air.

Eddie replayed that conversation in her head for many days after Vickie’s birthday. The gnawing feeling in the bottom of her stomach that threatened to burn her from the inside out appeared every other hour.

Why the fuck did she lie about not liking poems?

She didn’t have to tell them the truth about being M.W., but she could still have said something nice about Nancy’s passion for the poems. Not dismiss it completely, making it seem like she was a total bitch, causing Nancy to go back into her distrust, closing the doors to her vulnerability. Making Nancy think Eddie had no interest in her interests at all, like she was still holding a grudge over nothing, like they couldn’t bond over something they both loved.

The what-ifs and the should-haves kept eating at Eddie’s brain, sometimes so strongly that it was overwhelming, and she didn’t relax even a little bit about it for almost three weeks, when she met Chrissy for their monthly brunch together.

“What’s up with you today?” was the first question Chrissy asked over their mimosas, no need to be at Eddie’s side for long to realize that something was giving her anxiety.

It caused Eddie’s shoulders to slump down and her throat to get a little less constricted. Just knowing Chrissy cared enough about her to notice the small signs of her distress made some of the fog in her brain dissipate. It was easy to tell her everything after that, the scene she had caused, the disappointment in Nancy’s eyes, the way it made Eddie feel like shit. Chrissy heard it all quietly, attentively, as if Eddie’s life depended on it because she knew that Eddie felt like it did at the high of her anxiety.

“I think you like her more than you care to admit,” Chrissy answered at the end of it all.

Eddie didn’t like that Chrissy’s mind went straight into that area instead of comforting Eddie, but she rationally knew that Chrissy wouldn’t bring that up if it wasn’t relevant.

“Chris, I don’t even know her-”

Chrissy interrupted. “And I think you should be honest with her.”

“I can’t tell her-”

She did it again. “I’m not telling you to come out to her as Emme, I’m only saying you could honestly tell her she makes you kinda nervous and you stumbled over your words near her, and you said things you didn’t mean because you couldn’t think through.”

“Can you stop interrupting me!” Eddie whined. “Oh, so I just have to make a fool of myself in front of her? Solid advice, Chris, thanks.”

“Why’d you ask for my help if you’re gonna complain about what I say?” She asked, swirling her cup around.

“I didn’t ask for your help, Chrissy!” Eddie all but shouted, her voice a raspy tone, and Chrissy stopped mid-movement. Eddie instantly regretted it. “Sorry. I’m so sorry. Ugh, I’m so stressed out over nothing.”

She hid her face behind her hand, embarrassment making her cheeks burn up, but she soon felt Chrissy’s cool hand on top of her own. It was soothing once again.

“Sorry I pushed too. It’s not nothing, Eddie, I swear. I still think you can be a little more honest with her if you ever see her again, though,” Chrissy still advised.

“Maybe you’re right. I’ll think about it,” Eddie answered.

“And I still think you like Nancy more than you want to admit,” Chrissy continued.

Eddie let her hands fall from her face and stared into Chrissy’s blue pools. They reminded her of other blue pools.

Nancy’s pool blue eyes hardening over Eddie’s words, the way her jaw shut tight, the clinical look she shot at her. Nancy’s pool blue eyes softening over talking about Eddie’s words, the blush on her cheeks, the adoring speech she gave about Eddie’s soul without even knowing.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right about that too,” Eddie finally admitted.

Maybe it was then.

Summer was approaching and as the temperatures started to rise Steve hyped them all up for a lake day. Eddie took Chrissy, Robin, Vickie and Jonathan in her van; and Steve, Argyle and Nancy went in his car. They all brought snacks and smuggled drinks amongst card games and inflatable buoys.

The lake wasn’t packed because summer vacations still hadn’t started and the middle schoolers, high schoolers and college students still weren’t free to enjoy the scalding Sun and the cold water, so Steve’s idea was great after all.

Eddie waited until the Sun wasn’t at its peak to venture under its rays, because she was as pale as a vampire and the Sun was a menace to her just the same as it was to the blood-sucking monsters. She’d burn instantly. So she covered herself in sunblock, hid under the shadow of a big tree with one of Wayne’s old caps on her head and a book in her hands, and watched as her group of people had their fun.

Steve and Chrissy were playing with a volleyball in the sand, while Argyle and Vickie went against Jonathan and Robin in a game of chicken in the water with Nancy as the referee. Eddie had fun people-watching, and when it came to some of her new favorite people it was even better.

As midday approached, they all gathered under the barely-there shadow to eat their snacks and escape the dangerous Sun beams at their high. Argyle had some pre-baked space brownies for dessert and they all shared stories and laughed about nonsense. Eddie felt happy that she and Chrissy were finally being more included into the lives of Steve and Robin, and that their friends came along. It felt like they had always belonged there, as a full group. It was amazing.

When both the Sun and Eddie weren’t as high anymore, she finally felt safe enough to take off her shirt and cap. With another sunscreen layer applied, she stretched a bit before asking Chrissy to join her at the shallow ends of the lake. The pebbles hurt her feet in a good way and the smell of damp earth was refreshing.

“How’s it going?” Chrissy asked.

Eddie looked at her and saw that she was staring ahead. She followed the line of vision and saw Nancy taking a few laps in the deeper parts of the water. She instantly knew what Chrissy was asking.

“I might have been stalking too much on Instagram,” she answered, and Chrissy cackled.

“Does she follow you?”

“Uh, no. Her profile’s open,” she finished and Chrissy almost choked on her laughter.

Eddie tried to hide her smile, but Chrissy’s snorts were endearing even if they were at her expense.

“What are we laughing so hard about?” The subject of the conversation appeared out of nowhere, Robin and Vickie behind her as they approached.

Chrissy laughed harder.

“Uh, just this dude. You guys don’t know him.” Eddie tried to act casual, but Nancy’s raised eyebrow showed she wasn’t buying. Thankfully, she also didn’t press further. “Uh. Nice bikini,” she pointed at Nancy’s torso, immediately regretting it.

Nancy looked down, as if she didn’t remember what she was wearing. There was nothing special about it, just a different color in each of the little triangles covering Nancy’s breasts, but now all the attention was in it, on them, and Eddie felt like a complete fool. If she wanted Nancy not to know about her stupid not-crush, talking about her fucking boobs wasn’t the best course of action.

“Thanks?” she said, kind of asked, as her answer to Eddie’s random compliment. “Yours is pretty too.” She smiled sweetly, and Eddie was a hundred percent sure she didn’t deserve that kindness.

“Not just the bikini,” Vickie whispered a little too loud, causing Chrissy to fall into her laughing fit again. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. That was so out of pocket.” Her freckled face was all red, and Robin was hiding a grin under her hand, and Nancy was suddenly looking at the water, brows pinched, pink cheeks, perched lips.

Interesting, Eddie thought.

“Ah, don’t be,” she answered Vickie. “I paid a hell of a price for them, they’re supposed to be admired.”

“Wait until you’re at a level three friendship clearance and you’ll get to see them uncovered. Maybe even touch,” Chrissy said, still in between chuckles.

“Well, yeah, I want to show them off!” Eddie spoke up.

Nancy coughed loudly. “I’ll go back to the-” she stopped herself and never finished her sentence before practically running back to the water, her body curving in a beautiful dive once she was deep enough.

Eddie felt glad she was still wearing her shorts, cause the tightness in them could get a little uncomfortable.

“You guys are funny,” Robin said, arm draped over Vickie’s shoulder, and her pointed look at Eddie’s profile seemed to mean something more.

“What do you mean?” Eddie asked.

Robin chuckled a little louder. “You and Nancy would get along real well if you stopped dancing around each other,” she answered.

Eddie bit the inside of her cheek before turning to look at the lake again. Nancy wasn’t doing laps anymore, instead she was talking to the boys. As if she felt Eddie’s eyes on her, she also turned to look back to the shore, and her gaze met Eddie’s.

She smiled so sweetly. As if Eddie had never insulted her, as if her vulnerability had never been hidden, she smiled the same way Eddie saw her smile when she talked about M.W’s words.

Maybe it was then.

“Still don’t know what you’re talking about,” Eddie lied, without ending her eye contact with the girl on the water, and her senses were so focused on only her that she didn’t even hear Robin and Chrissy’s snickering.

She really had to stop dancing.

Chrissy went to Eddie’s house and ruined her life on a simple Friday.

“You’re being so dramatic,” Chrissy said while Eddie paced around her living room, fingers tangled in her hair, and her phone still in Chrissy’s hand.

Eddie knew it had been a horrible idea to download Tinder to get over her not-crush on Nancy, and she knew it had been a horrible idea to tell Chrissy about it — but she went ahead and did both of those things anyway.

It started harmless enough, Eddie and Chrissy sat side by side, a bottle of wine shared with no need for glasses, a random movie on the TV as background noise. Chrissy giving her input on Eddie’s bio, her picture choices, the people she swapped right or left.

It started harmless enough, until Nancy’s profile showed up.

Only a few miles away, a stunning profile picture that made Eddie’s heart almost crack her ribcage, a bio that Eddie couldn’t even read entirely because suddenly her phone wasn’t in her hands anymore, and Chrissy was locking herself in the bathroom.

No amount of Eddie’s banging on the door made her get out, not until she felt like her mission was complete, not until after she swiped right on Nancy.

And then Eddie was spiraling, pacing around her living room while Chrissy finished whatever wine was left in the bottle, the movie had ended on the TV and Tinder was left open and forgotten on Eddie’s phone.

“You acted like a bitch and you know it,” Eddie said, and Chrissy only huffed. “Christine!”

“Calm down, I’ve told you already! It’s not like-” she paused mid sentence when the phone screen lit up. Chrissy’s eyes grew comically larger, and she bit her bottom lip tightly, the skin under her teeth going pale. “So, about that-”

“Christine!” Eddie yelled again, throwing herself on the couch and aiming for the phone already. “Please, for the love of god and all that is holy, please tell me she didn’t just-”

“You have a match,” Chrissy confirmed Eddie’s worst nightmares.

“FUCKING HELL!”

It was undeniable, right at the center of the screen, big bold letters in a way that Eddie couldn’t blame on drunkenness because she hadn’t even drank that much. She had a match with Nancy Wheeler.

“Why is that a bad thing? You have a crush on her anyway, you just learned it’s reciprocated?” Chrissy asked, already getting up to fetch another wine bottle.

“What if it’s a joke. What if she swiped in the wrong direction as an accident. What if she sat on her phone and butt-matched me. What-”

“Eddie, stop spiraling,” Chrissy told her, a new wine bottle in her hands that she passed to Eddie in exchange for the phone again. “We’ll keep watching whatever movie this is,” she checked the TV, saw the movie was over, “We’ll watch whatever other random movie and get your head out of this and tomorrow you’ll wake up renewed and look at this situation with fresh eyes and see it’s not that bad. Okay?”

“You just don’t want me to yell at you ‘cause you know it’s your fault,” Eddie grumbled.

“I won’t lie to you, my best friend, that is partly the reason.” Chrissy chose another random movie without really checking what it was. “But I also really don’t think it’s such a big deal.”

“Whatever,” Eddie whined again, but draped her head on Chrissy’s shoulder when she sat beside her.

She was warm, and smelled of berries and coconut, and she had Eddie’s phone so she couldn’t do anything stupid, and she usually knew better. She was probably right. Eddie let herself be comforted in the presence of Chrissy’s calming aura.

Eddie ended the night having no idea what the movie was about, her mental state a little over tipsy and a little under drunk, her phone back in her hands and the Tinder conversation with Nancy Wheeler opened.

She came to learn a lot in between one and six A.M., the time she spent talking to Nancy while Chrissy still snored beside her.

Nancy had a younger brother and a younger sister.

She loved ballet.

Her favorite singer was Madonna.

Her parents were divorced, and the day they told her the news was one of the best days of her life.

Some of her hobbies included journaling, roller skating, and painting her nails.

Her best friend was named Barb, and she was studying abroad for her PhD.

She legally owned a gun. That was terrifying. (And also a little hot.)

She had never used it, though. But felt safe having it.

She was power driven, passion driven, a force to be reckoned with, and kind and sweet while doing it all.

Maybe it was then.

Neither of them acknowledged the fact that they both had been assholes to each other, and just accepted the Tinder match as if it had been nothing more. Nancy had started the conversation as if they had already texted before, and Eddie just rolled with it.

They talked all night, and Eddie could’ve kept talking to her if she hadn’t passed out from sleep deprivation and alcohol consumption.

She only noticed the next afternoon, when she woke up, that she tried telling Nancy she was M.W. at the peak of her insanity, but thankfully had never sent the message.

She deleted it and said nothing else instead.

Eddie saw Nancy sooner than she expected — and, honestly, sooner than she was ready to.

She and Nancy hadn’t talked after that day, not at all, not on Tinder and not on Instagram after they followed each other. Nancy liked a couple of Eddie’s pictures and stories, and Eddie liked some of her stuff back, but that was it.

She thought it had dwindled out, she was too much of a coward to pull Nancy back to a conversation and thought Nancy had no interest when she also made no move to message Eddie again.

Eddie was nursing a minor heartache when she asked Chrissy to go with her to a party one of her neighbors invited her to merely a week later. It was at the rooftop of another building, fairy lights still turned off during the day but they would look beautiful by night, the Sun was warm and they had punch, so Eddie thought it to be the perfect place and opportunity to get her mind off of Nancy Wheeler.

Imagine her surprise to see Nancy Wheeler there?

Chrissy spotted her immediately, elbowing Eddie until she noticed too. She looked beautiful under the sun, all sparkly makeup and flowy dress and pulled-up hair. And Chrissy gave Eddie no time to think or react before pulling her by the hand straight into Nancy’s direction where she was talking to a short-haired girl.

“Christine, stop, what if they’re-”

“Nancy! Hi!” Chrissy didn’t let Eddie pour out her negative thoughts, and instead called to the source of all of Eddie’s most recent problems.

“Chrissy!” she smiled, oh so pretty. “And Eddie!”

Eddie didn’t want to get all delusional, but she felt like Nancy’s smile to her was wider than the one to Chrissy.

Chrissy hugged her, and soon came Eddie’s turn, and if she put a little more strength into her arms, and if she made it last just a second longer, and if she carefully sniffed Nancy’s hair — well, that’s her problem.

“So nice to see you two. This is Barb!” She looked at Eddie as she said it, maybe to see if Eddie remembered that conversation, and Eddie could never lose that opportunity.

She took a deep breath, inhaled some courage from the air, turned to Barb and said, “Heard only the greatest things about you.”

Barb smiled, and so did Nancy, and maybe, yeah, maybe Eddie was a little delusional and maybe she was a little biased but Nancy’s smile was wider and prettier and more important.

She touched Eddie’s arm after she hugged Barb, and she looked Eddie right in the eyes and there was something there — some gratitude, some recognition, Eddie wasn’t sure what it was, but it was there.

And maybe it was then.

“So… what about that poem page? Still digging it?” Eddie asked hours later, when Chrissy was hooking up with a stranger in the bathroom and Barb had gone home already.

Nancy turned to pay attention to her immediately. They were leaning against the rooftop’s half-walls, Eddie’s jean jacket over Nancy’s naked shoulders cause there was a funny cold little breeze.

“Yeah, of course,” Nancy answered. Her eyes were sparkling, and the sun was setting, and the fairy lights were on.

She looked breath-taking.

“Still your favorite?” Eddie asked again, just because she needed to have that little pinch of Nancy Wheeler’s approval, even if Nancy had no idea.

“Still my favorite,” Nancy answered again, her eyes narrowing but smile widening a bit. “You still hate poetry?” she asked instead, and the slight twitch in the corner of her mouth was the only hint that she wasn’t as serious, that she was just teasing.

“I don’t hate poetry,” Eddie said with an accompanying eye roll and a small smile of her own. “I actually envy them. I wish I could say stuff that makes you feel… the way you feel. Instead of constantly annoying you.”

She kept a smirk as she said it, but it was a deeply honest confession. Of course, it was her words making Nancy feel the way she felt. But Nancy didn’t know that, and if she didn’t know that, did it really count?

Nancy’s expression softened as Eddie said it, those blue pools opening up for her again. Eddie felt like she would never get tired of it.

“You don’t constantly annoy me, just sometimes… most of the time,” she teased and nothing about her face said sarcasm and Eddie smiled wide back at her.

Nancy’s hand found Eddie’s, her fingers small and delicate and they fit right in between Eddie’s fingers, and it felt like it was meant to be, like the perfect puzzle pieces. There was music somewhere around them, lots of chatter from all the other people, but it all felt so distant as Nancy held Eddie’s hand so tight it almost hurt but it didn’t because it was her.

Maybe it was then.

Eddie wasn’t sure when she fell for Nancy Wheeler, but she knew for sure that’s when their story really started.

SHE DOESN’T KNOW AS WELL

Six months later

“I knew it already,” she said.

Her hair was a bit longer by then, curling around her head like an aura and getting all knotted up right with Eddie’s hair as they laid side by side in bed. The air smelt like sex, like them, and the streets outside the window were quiet in the middle of the night.

“The fuck you did,” Eddie answered.

“I’m an investigative journalist, Eddie, of course I knew you were Emme like, two weeks after we started dating.”

“Shut the fuck up,” she said, and Nancy snorted. She knew Eddie wasn’t actually mad. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Nancy instantly sobered up. “Cause it’s important to you. I wanted you to tell me, whenever you were ready. That’s your soul, Ed.”

It definitely wasn’t then, it had been long ago.

But it was then that Eddie confessed it, out loud, almost screaming in a whisper:

“I love you.”

Nancy smiled, her blue eyes two huge pools of vulnerability, that sweetness that poured out of her like honey.

“I don’t know when this happened. But. I love you too, of course.”

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