#i can just wear like black tennis shoes or something

[spirirsstuff]

planning my connor murphy costume for halloween

[reikook]

summary: y/n finds herself caught in a web of as she develops unexpected feelings for her brother's best friend once she comes back from uni for summer break. initial hesitation, the undeniable connection between them pulls her closer, leading to a forbidden romance that tests loyalties and boundaries.

parring: fuckboy!jk x richgirloc

warnings: jk has some anger issues.., they play tennis alott brother best friend trope, y/n brother is taehyung, situationship, secret relationship kinda?, jungkook used to fw y/ns bestie OOP, thier all rich asf smut. angst drug use. and many more to come in other chapters

“Y/n! Taehyung!” their mother said hugging them both. “it’s been so long i miss my kiddos!”

They unloaded the car quickly, and as soon as they were done, y/n picked up her suitcase and book bag and headed straight for her old bedroom.

It had calico wallpaper and a white bedroom set and not to mention it was huge. she went over to her night stand and saw a white framed picture of her as a middle schooler and she quickly put it in the drawer “ew”

Y/ns mom knocks on her door “get dressed Taehyung is inviting his friends over for dinner

Y/n groans knowing his douche friends are coming over.

“Wear something nice!” Y/n mother said leaving her be in her room. Y/n flops on her bed and sighs heavily falling to sleep from the long airplane trip.

Y/n decided to wear a black crop top and light washed blue baggy jeans with black and white converse. She went downstairs of her almost mansion and saw his friends. She already knew them but there was a new member?

He had fluffy black hair, black shirt and jorts with black sambas and tattoos going down his arm with sliver chrome hearts bracelet and a lip piercing. Holy fuck.

Y/n sneaked up back upstairs to her room and added mascara and concealer. Then went back downstairs and sat down at the neatly seat dinner table

“You have a nice home Mrs. L/n” jimin said stuffing his face with the salad. “Aw thank you sweetheart!” Her mom responded, Y/n almost cringed by her mom acting fake and nice

“Y/n can you hand me the bread please?” Taehyung butted in. She reached over and handed it to him

“So.. jungkook? Is that your name?” Jungkook nodded knowing he’s about to be questioned

“You have a lot of tattoos wow.. what did your parents say?” Y/n mom says

“Mom stop” Taehyung whispers to her

“It’s fine my parents didn’t really care about them and I like them a lot so”

Y/ns mom hummed

“And what about you y/n how’s school going? I mean they’ve been calling me alot so”

She shrugged playing with her food. This is the worst thing ever for y/n

After dinner y/n took a shower and changed into a hoodie and shorts and laid on her bed watching tiktok trying to keep her mind off that hottie. She went quickly to Instagram to find him but was quickly interrupted.

Taehyung barged in her room “yo wanna play tennis”

“Sure”

Y/n got up and put her phone on the charger and put on her tennis shoes and grabbed her racket from her closet .They both walked to the tennis court and grabbed the tennis ball

“Ready?” Taehyung yelled out

Y/n hit the ball.

“I’m gonna get a drink of water” y/n called out dropping her racket and walking out of the court and went to the clubhouse and there he was standing there with a blunt in his hand

“Oh shit” jungkook said throwing it away quickly

“I don’t care about that” y/n said filling up her water bottle”

“Wait I think i remember you” jungkook said looking at her intensely “oh shit it’s you! Weren’t you friends with what’s her name.. oh yea Elise. God she was a bitch, no offense”

“What?” Y/n said confused totally of what he just said

“Elise your friend? We dated for like a month or some shit senior year in high school

“I don’t know. I mean she’s my friend but she never told me about you

“Such a bitch..” he said looking up and getting flashbacks

“Shes coming to see me this week I think”

“Eh I don’t care I have no feelings for her anymore as long if I don’t see her dumb face”

Y/n laughed at that “when did u become friends with taehyung?”

“Like this year I was his plug then we just became friends I guess

“Taehyung smokes?”

“No edibles big baby”

Y/ns mouth formed a “o”

“Do you smoke?

“Um.. no I play tennis for my school”

“Boring. Anyway it was nice talking to you.. are u gonna get that”

Y/n looked to see her water bottle was overfilling “Oh thanks”

He walked past her and walked out of her sight. Y/n smiled to herself walking back to the court. “The fuck were you doing?” Taehyung called out

“Nothing? I said I was filling up my water bottle”

“Sureeee”

a/n: hope yall enjoyed this one pls give me feedback this is like my first story ever and this is inspired by euphoria and challengers the movie!

[erwinsvow]

They call you the clueless pogue. The pretty one. 

You don’t care much either way—that comes from years of being Kiara’s best friend, she’s taught you well on how to ignore what other people think and say about you. Maybe you would care more, you think one day, watching JJ and Pope drive each other crazy while trying to fix something that’s inexplicably gone wrong with the Twinkie. John B is swinging in the hammock, eyes closed, empty beer in his hand that is soon replaced with a fresh one by Kie. She drops the old can into a bin that has the recycling symbol drawn on with a sharpie, her own creation. She walks towards you with a can of fruity seltzer since it’s well known with your new friends that you refuse to drink beer—and it all feels very domestic.

You might care about what other people say if you didn’t love your friends so much.

You are a little clueless though—at least the boys think so. They wouldn’t dare to say anything when your protective best friend was around, but when it’s just you and one of them, or all of them, it comes out a little more. 

You wear the kind of clothes that they wouldn’t let a sister of theirs be caught dead in. They never used to care about stuff like that, not until you started hanging around more often. It was the result of absent parents that were only on the island a few months out of the year. The rest of the time you had free reign, and an unlimited credit card that often funded their adventures—gas for the Twinkie, beer for the night, a new outfit to wear to the party. 

JJ gets into a fist-fight with a guy who keeps offering you a drink from the keg, not listening no matter how many times you refuse and grabbing the short hem of your yellow dress to yank you back. JJ doesn’t mean to knock him out—it’s just like instinct, he explains later that night to John B and Pope while you’re sound asleep on the pull-out with Kiara—the way he feels protective over you.

“Are you okay?” Kie asks, and you smooth out your dress from where that guy had grabbed it.

“Only because JJ saved me,” you say, looking at him with big doe eyes and fluttering eyelashes. He swallows uncomfortably.

“No biggie, princess, I mean you know me, I’m a big damsel-in-stress kinda guy-” Kiara rolls her eyes and brings you inside, and he’s left standing there with pink-tinged ears.

He doesn’t tell them about how you were looking around for someone, anyone to help, how scared you look when he touched you, how your face visibly eased when you locked eyes with JJ, how you held a bag of frozen peas to his black eye and kissed his cheek before going back to find everyone earlier. He decides to keep that for himself.

You don’t keep an eye out for your surroundings when you tag along on their adventures either. That’s pretty much John B’s responsibility now, walking towards the back with you. You often start looking around, head in the clouds, staring at the trees and sky and walking right into a pile of mud or a puddle.

“Wow, the air is so clean out here,” you comment while taking a deep breath. It’s said quiet enough that only he can hear you.

“Yeah, pretty girl, that’s because of all the trees.” You laugh and shove his arm, because duh, but you can’t respond because the others are yelling for you two to catch up.

He doesn’t let you lead—you’ve cried over too many ruined shoes for him to risk it anymore—instead he holds onto your hand firmly, gripping tight when he needs you to slow down and pulling gently when it’s okay to proceed. It’s his job to make sure all the bugs are out of the way, that you’re not walking into a spiderweb or running after a butterfly or pretty bird. The others tease you two and laugh, but you still thank him with a tight hug, the thin material of your sports bra not really hiding much, murmuring something about no signs of mud on your new sneakers.

“Yeah, anytime,” he breathes after you’ve already walked away. You turn back to smile at him, adjusting your ridden-up tennis skirt you’d sported today. “Wouldn’t wanna dirty those shoes.”

You make Pope feel like the smartest guy in the world sometimes, without even trying. It’s not like you’re stupid, because he knows you’re not, but when you bite your cheek and tap his shoulder to ask him another question about whatever you were working on, your words start going to his head. 

“So if I wanna save this and put them all together, I just use this program? And I just use the mouse?” you say thoughtfully, repeating his instructions back to him.

“Yes, sweetheart,” and he tries his best to make sure he sounds patient—he’s learned from experience you don’t react well if you even suspect he’s getting frustrated.

Pope watches you play with the thin straps of your shirt before the string idly falls off your shoulder, exposing a swath of soft, sweet-smelling skin to him. Staring at your bare shoulder, he thinks he could never get frustrated at you even if he tried his hardest.  When you finish making your little vision-board on photoshop, you turn to show him proudly, and he is proud, with how well you followed his instructions and weren’t too shy to keep asking for his help. Later that night at the Chateau, you lean against his shoulder with his arm swung around you on the couch and explain what each of the images mean until you fall asleep. 

They’re all playing a game of chicken—wondering which one will be the first to cross that line and suggest something more than just friendship to you. Through empty cases of beer and boys-only fishing trips they’ve briefly discussed to each other that they’re interested, but of respect—to each other, not really to you—they haven’t made the first move just yet. No matter how difficult you make it.

At the beach you help the boys wax their surfboards, taking turns with each one, floating around a little tipsy already from your fruity drink. They’re all talking, but you don’t really pay attention, eyes staring at something in the distance.

JJ covers his mouth, imitating a walkie noise. 

“Hello, uh, earth to princess, over.” 

You turn back to him and his board, dropping the chunk of wax and leaning in. He blanks for a second—your pretty face getting closer, an eyeful of your tits in the tiny bikini you’re wearing today making his head spin. And you’re infront of everyone, which is definitely not how he’d thought he would win this little competition. 

“Do you see that pretty girl over there? Three o’clock?” 

“I see a pretty girl right in front of me,” he says, and you laugh, pushing his shoulder. He doesn’t realize that you think he’s just joking. 

“Jayj, seriously. See her?” He nods, but still doesn’t turn to look. “She’s been staring at you for, like, ten minutes. You should go over there!” 

You’re smiling big, like the idea of another girl talking to him sounds fun. He pulls back from you, confused.

“I need another beer.” He stalks off, walking to the boys while you turn to Kiara.

“What did I do wrong? I’m trying to get him laid-” Kiara rolls her eyes. You turn and see the boys in deep conversation, occasionally glancing back at you and Kie.

“She just told me to go flirt with some girl, like, right in front of her. I mean is this some kind of test?” He takes a long chug of the beer, sounding about as stressed as Pope and John B have ever seen. “Do I fail if I hook up with some rando? Or do I fail if I don’t hook up? It’s Schindler’s cat, man-”

“That’s not-” Pope starts, before being cut off.

“Sorry, sorry. Schrodinger’s kids.”

“No, JJ-”

“What the hell does she mean? So she wants us to hook up with other people?” John B cuts in, looking back at you, but something else on the beach seems to have caught your attention.

“Woah, I’m not doing that, but you two are more than welcome-” 

“Yeah, nice try, Pope. We get with some girl so you can tell her you stayed loyal and win her over? I don’t think so, genius-”

“Well, you’re the one she’s trying to set up so I think I’m pretty safe right now-”

“It’s not a reality show Pope, you can’t eliminate me.”

“Guys,” John B speaks up.

“If this was a show, I’d clearly be the fan favorite and the winner-”

“Uh, says who? I would so win, let’s do a poll right now and survey this beach-”

“Guys.” Louder this time, they listen to John. He doesn’t say anything, just stares into the distance and soon they join him, to see what he’s looking at.

“Y’gotta be fucking kidding me,” JJ says, watching you run into Rafe’s arms, swinging around before giving him a kiss. Rafe pulls away and looks straight at the three of them, while giving them a wave.

[artydonsgf]

Could you do headcanons of what clothes each would let you borrow/borrow from you?

hi anon!! thank you so much for your request. i won’t even lie, this one is short as fuck because i wasn’t really sure what direction to go with it… enjoy regardless<3

Art Donaldson

- steals stuff that you don’t notice

- your belt this time, socks another time

- as things progress in the relationship, so does his habit of wearing your clothes

- yall share shirts, hoodies, jackets, he would wear your shoes if he could

- he just likes how comforting it is wearing your clothes

- if he can’t wear something of yours, he’ll buy it so you guys can match

- you steal his clothes just as much, but you really like his tennis hoodies that say donaldson on the back

- prepping for when you’re mrs art donaldson🤭

- bonus for my black girls: art donaldson wears your bright pink bonnet to bed because “my curls need the help”

Tashi Duncan

- she doesn’t borrow your clothes that much actually

- she’ll wear your shirt if she can’t find hers but she doesn’t seek out your stuff much

- you seek out hers and she loves it though

- nothing is off limits in her eyes, you could wear literally anything of hers

- her not stealing your clothes isn’t about not feeling comfortable, it just doesn’t really occur to her to do so

- buys clothes and thinks to herself that you’ll probably borrow it

- a section of her closet is all your favorite things of hers so you don’t need to dig through it looking for it

Patrick Zweig

- nothing is off limits to this man

- honestly, you could walk out of the house in an outfit that solely belongs to patrick

- he’s the exact same way, he’d wear your underwear if he could

- buys new clothes with you in mind

- “hm i wonder if she’d wear this too”

- spoiler you would and you will

- thinks of it as a couples bonding experience

- cause really, how mad can you be at him when you’re wearing his boxers?

sorry this is kinda shitty, i appreciate the request either way<3

[ginnysgraffiti]

i didn't see any posts about art or patrick playing so i decided to write it myself :)

(forgive me if something's wrong, i haven't played tennis for a long time.)

this is just something random i've been keeping in my drafts, but don't worry i'll write some smut about art too.

also, tysm for all your requests, i swear i'm trying to keep up :,)

coach as reader, tennis obsessed art, determined art.

ART DONALDSON x yn.

that morning you were in a white tennis skirt and polo shirt, a cream-colored cardigan on top. a pair of new socks and a brand-new blindingly white pair of tennis shoes on your feet.

art was wearing his usual white uniqlo playing t-shirt with the blue collar, matching the sweat cuffs and shorts.

"okay baby, let's go over it again. patrick is taller, stronger, broad shoulders and definitely more confident. how will this affect your calculated and sharp strategy?" you asked, making sure he had perfectly locked his eyes into yours and was listening carefully.

"if he's stronger than me, i need to get him up to the net as much as i can, use perfect angles and always land properly. and he's probably feeling pretty confident, so i need to shake him, right at the beginning. if i can get patrick zweig worrying about whether his best friend is gonna beat him, then his best friend is gonna beat him."

"good answer." you smirked satisfied, resting your hands on your hips. you kissed him softly and caressed his cheek as he got ready and left the locker room.

when you walked towards the stands and took your seat, patrick won the toss and elected to serve first. you could visibly notice how tense your boyfriend was, but only an experienced coach could see how tense his muscles were.

art stood at the baseline and bounced the taut strings of his racket against his palm. he held the grip and turned it over in his hand.

patrick was standing across the court, in a black impatto branded sleeveless tennis t-shirt with red decorations on the right side and some checked grey shorts. as he stood up, you could see just how broad and tall she was, his cocky smirk playing on his lips as always as he searched for you in the crowd before turning around to art.

love serving love.

patrick tossed the ball up in the air and then cut across it with his racket. as art rushed for the ball, he calculated perfectly and thought that his best bet was to take it out of the air quick as you instructed him. but as he got in position, he saw his opponent approach the net. he was assuming art didn't have the power to hit a passing shot. and so, at the last minute, he hit a deep ground- stroke. zweig had to rush his return and hit it into the net.

the first point was art's.

love serving 15.

he looked at you as he made his way back to the baseline, and you smiled proudly.

your boyfriend crouched and waited for patrick's next serve. patrick's face was tight now. no more smirks.

suddenly, the ball came across the net, fast as a whip. art couldn't return it.

15-all.

serve after serve stunned both you and art, and you found yourself torturing the fabric of your skirt intensely.

30-15.

40-15.

and just like that, patrick zweig had won the first game.

art glanced over at your seat and saw your brows furrowed. tho, you couldn't tell what he was thinking.

now it was his serve. he landed each one exactly where he wanted it to go. he was setting up his shots a few strokes ahead. he kept him running all over the court. but every time, patrick returned it. their long rallies would inevitably end in patrick's favor.

art stayed alert. he met the ball each time, but regardless of how smooth and calculated his shots were, it just didn't matter. zweig took the first set 7-5.

you could tell art was exhausted already. during the break he wiped his sweat off with a towel, not even looking at you. you breathed in deeply. your boyfriend could not lose; it was not an option.

art thought that by getting that first point off him, he would have thrown him off. but he had actually awakened his opponent. art had given him a reason to play his fucking damn best.

art started to go for aces, each and every serve. it was risky; he knew he could double-fault and you had warned him about it, but it felt like his only shot. when the first one went well he looked at you, and you nodded with a serious look.

having your permission, he did it again.

his point.

his first serve was hard and bounced high. zweig dove for it and hit it out.

30-love.

your boyfriend glanced over at you as he went to pick up the ball, and you saw a smile creep over his face.

art hit another flat serve, whizzed past patrick.

40-love.

your boyfriend had him. just by looking at him from your seat, you could feel the tingle in the top of his head and down his back. you could feel the space in between his joints, the fluidity of hid muscles. you felt a hum in your bones.

art served the ball, low and fast. he returned it with spin that art understood innately, he knew where it would go, how it would bounce. art hit it back with the full force of his shoulder. pat's return went long and art went on to win the set. the score was now good for both, and it would come down to who won the next set.

zweig's first serve on the next game had art rallying back and forth for the point but ended in patrick hitting a low groundstroke that whizzed past him. you wanted to scream as you saw the ball bounce past art's racket. but you knew a coach like you wouldn't stand for that.

patrick zweig took control of the court. he broke art's serve, and he held him own. art showed up to the ball. he ran like hell. but it wasn't enough. when pat scored the last point, art fell to his knees. he held on to the ground for a moment and closed his eyes.

you stood up and focused your gaze on art as he approached patrick to shake his hand and pose for the photographers.

(...)

you and art made your way towards the locker room. as soon as he stepped in he immediately packed up his stuff and zipped his racket in its cover.

when he collapsed on the seat, you sat in front of him and looked at him closely.

"he said i played fucking amazing. amazing! he only said that because at the end i'm the one who fucking lost..." art said, his voice catching and breaking.

you shook your head. "you're wrong."

art raised his eyes and raised one eyebrow, annoyed.

"that was not the lesson you should take from this. try again." you continued.

"i hate tennis." he said, and then kicked his racket on the floor.

"no."

"i fucking hate patrick zweig." another kick.

"no."

at your word, he looked down at his worn out shoes. he was nervously playing with his fingers, and could not look at you.

that was the moment where he would think he had finally failed you, that he had proven himself unworthy of all the faith you had in him.

"are you done? -you said as he turned to look at you- with the hysterics?"

"i've never been prouder of being your girlfriend and your coach today than i have ever been in my life." you finished.

"how is that possible?" his lazy voice cracked before he could even finish.

"i know you're upset because you lost." you said, taking his racket so he wouldn't kick it again.

"i lost. which makes me a loser."

you shook your head with a smile on your face.

"i have been so focused on teaching you how to win that i have not taught you that everybody loses matches."

"i'm supposed to be the greatest, not everybody. art donaldson, the greatest player."

you nodded. "and you will be. today you proved that. you played the best you've ever played in your life today."

he looked up at you.

"have you ever hit that many groundstrokes that bounced just in front of the baseline?" you asked.

"no."

"have you ever served three aces in a row like you did today?"

he started tapping his foot as he listened to you. "no. but...m-my first serve was great today." he said, and it sounded more of a question than a fact.

"you were on fire, baby. you ran down the ball almost every shot."

"yeah, but then i hit it into the net half the time."

"because you are not yet who you will be one day."

he started tearing a bit, his guarded heart opening ever so slightly.

"every match you play, you are one match closer to becoming the greatest tennis player the world has ever seen. you were not born that person. you were born to become that fucking legend. and that is why you must best yourself every time you get on the court. not so that you beat the other person, or patrick, or-"

"but so that i become more myself." he finished.

"so...you're not gonna stop coaching me?" he breathed in a low whisper.

"never wonder again, baby. never."

"...we'll start again with training?" he asked shyly.

"we'll start again with training."

"and i'll beat patrick's ass?"

"and you'll beat patrick's fucking ass."

"...love you baby."

"love you too art."

"can we go for churros at the bar?"

"sure we can. the heart shaped ones."

[fvllingflower]

No Shame

pairing: idol!wonwoo afab!reader

genre: smut

warnings: making out, cursing, boob play, boob sucking, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (actually use protection!), aftercare

song recommendation: no shame by 5sos

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Wonwoo had a concert today and he of course gave you tickets. He knew you enjoyed supporting him and the guys. Once you got changed into your outfit for the concert, you sent Wonwoo a photo of yourself. He seem to enjoy your outfit. You were wearing black tennis skirt and a tight t-shirt. You got to the concert and as you were sitting down in your chair at the concert, you were texting Wonwoo, telling him you can't wait.

The concert started and you were so excited. You were screaming and cheering for the guys. You filmed the guys performance and them announcing who they are along with taking pictures of Wonwoo. He looked so pretty, you love him so much. The performance unit started performing and when Wonwoo was changed he messaged you asking if you're enjoying the show so far. Of course you were, you enjoy their music and love seeing their talent.

Hours pass and now it was getting towards the end of the show. Snap Shoot started playing and quickly the camera man found you. You started dancing very shyly and the members were "yelling" at you that you can do better than that. So you started getting more hyped and dancing with more energy. You could see Wonwoo was smiling and laughing as you danced.

The concert finally ended and you went back stage to see your boyfriend. You said hi to the guys. Mingyu and Seokmin were recreating your dance which made you laugh. As you were laughing, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist. You turned your head to see Wonwoo smiling wide.

"Okay guys let me have her to myself," He waved the guys away. You turned to face him and smiled at him.

"Did you enjoy the show?" He asked.

"Of course I did, you know I love seeing you guys perform," You responded. He pecked your lips.

"Hey so we're going to go out to eat, are you two tagging along?"Jihoon asked.

"Mhm no, we'll order something later, I just wanna get in bed," Wonwoo smiled and Jihoon chuckled.

"Okay, you two have fun," He walked away.

"You ready to go?" Wonwoo asked and you nodded.

He held your hand as you two walked out and into the van. During the drive to the hotel, Wonwoo kept his hand on your thigh and just kept rubbing it. You looked at him but he was staring out the window. You sighed in defeat and rested your head on Wonwoo. You guys got to the hotel and he followed you to your room.

"What you doing stalker?" You asked as he shut your door and you took your shoes off.

"Following my girlfriend," He smiled and walked towards you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him once more.

"Is that so?" You mumbled and he hummed in agreement. You two started kissing, one kiss after another. He pulled away from you and sat in the bed. You crawled into bed and climbed onto his lap. He just grinned as he held your waist.

You two started kissing again this time with more passion. His hands started running up and down your sides. Your hand cupped his face as you continued to kiss him, but now you licked his bottom lip and inserted your tongue into his mouth. Your tongues started fighting for dominance. His hands slowly slid up your body and cupped your breasts. You decided to take your shirt off and throw it to the ground. Wonwoo looked delighted to see you in a skirt and your bra now. He started kissing and sucking your skin. Tiny moans came from your mouth as Wonwoo continued squeezing your boobs like they were stress toys. He pressed delicate kisses down your sternum and as he did you felt him grip the clasp on your bra. He unhooked your bra and threw your bra across the room. He kissed your tits softly before taking one mound into his mouth. His tongue was playing with your nipple and he suddenly bit your nipple making you moan loudly.

"Fuck!" You gripped his hair as he switched the other boob giving it the same affection.

You grabbed the hem of Wonwoo's shirt and stripped it off of him and threw it onto the floor. You started kissing down his neck and soon started sucking his sweet skin. You got up, bent over with your ass in his face as you pulled your skirt off along with your panties. He couldn't help but smack your ass. You turned around and looked at him.

"Oh god, you're so fucking perfect," He groaned in pleasure. He got up and let you sit on the edge of the bed. He got on his knees and got in between your legs.

"Can I eat you out?" He asked shyly. You smiled at him.

"God please do," You whined. With that he licked a strip against your clit, causing you to throw your head back. He started licking and sucking your folds. You gripped his hair roughly making him groan, the vibrations adding more pleasure. It felt like he was making out with your cunt. Suddenly you heard a knock on your door.

"Y/N?" You recognized Shua's voice.

"Y- yeah," You held back your whines.

"Is Wonwoo with you?" He asked.

"Mhm— yeah," You tried to keep yourself together as Wonwoo continued to eat you up like he was starved.

"Oh okay, well we're going to sleep so good night," You could tell Shua was smiling.

"Good night Shua," You replied. You're pretty sure he walked away. You let out soft whines as Wonwoo continued. He added his fingers to the mix of pleasure. You were close to shutting your legs on his head but he held you legs open by your thigh and he would squeeze the flesh as he devoured you. He was pumping two fingers in and out of your greedy cunt as he ate you up even when you released on his face, he licked you clean. He looked up at you and his face looked like a mess which made you giggle.

"Come here," He pulled you into a kiss and you could taste yourself against his lips. He stood up and pulled his pants and underwear off. You couldn't help but stare at how big he was, big and thick, of course you seen it many times but every time you just stare. You laid in bed and he climbed on top of you.

"Spread your legs for me baby," You listened and spread them as much as possible. He lined up with your hole and he thrusted into you slowly making you moan loud but you quickly covered your mouth. He didn't seem to notice at first cause he was so focused on thrusting at the right pace until he looked up at you to make sure you were enjoying it.

"Baby let me hear your pleasure, let them hear it, let them know how good I'm fucking you, yeah?" He whispered as he pulled your hand away from your mouth and held your hand. He started thrusting fast and rough. You were turning into a mess underneath him. You felt so bad for the guys hearing you but it felt so good. He was fucking you so rough you thought you would snap in half. You wrapped your legs around his waist making him sink deeper into you. He kept pounding into you like his life depended on it.

"Oh fuck Wonwoo," You almost screamed.

"That's it baby let them who this pussy belongs to," He smirked as you continued to be loud. He put your boob in his mouth and was making out with it. He bit your nipple and tugged on it. He suddenly slapped your boob and then squeezed it.

"Oh shit Wonwoo!" You moaned loudly. He continued to fuck your brains out. He was hitting every right place to make you lose your mind in pleasure.

"Such a perfect pussy," He grunted as he pounded into you harder. He put one leg on his shoulder to make it easier to fuck your brains out. This has to be one of his favorite sightings; your boobs bouncing, your hands clawing the bed, your mouth gapped open with pleasure, he loved how fucked up you look whenever he pounds your brains out. It didn't take much longer till you started to feel your stomach tighten.

"Wonwoo— I'm going to cum," You whined.

"It's okay baby, cum for me," He spoke softly. Your legs tremble as you released your arousal all on his dick. It didn't stop Wonwoo, he continued fucking your brains out until he filled your hole up. He pulled out and laid beside you, as you two caught your breath. He got up, and went into the bathroom. He came back with a wet cloth and cleaned you up. He pressed soft kisses across your face as he expressed how good you did.

"I'm going to go into my room real quick and grab some clothes, okay?" He informed you as he put his clothes back on. He left the room and entered his hotel room.

"I'm fucking traumatized from that," Mingyu exclaimed. Wonwoo just laughed.

"You're acting like this is the first time you heard me have sex," Wonwoo was grabbing his clothes.

"Yeah but I didn't know those people you fucked, but I know Y/N!" Mingyu spat.

"You're dramatic," He laughed as he walked out the room. He opened the door and you wobbled out the bathroom.

"You brought your whole suitcase?" You smiled.

"Yeah... why are you still naked? You want a second round," He smirked.

"No! I swear you almost broke me," He cupped your face and kissed you softly.

"I'm sorry baby, do you want me to massage your legs?" He asked and you shook you head.

"It's fine," You wobbled towards the bed and fell half way. He ran towards you and picked you up and sat you on the bed.

"I'll bring you some clothes," He smiled. He went to your suitcase and grabbed some underwear and handed it to you. He stood up and pulled his t-shirt off and handed it to you to wear. You put the clothes on and Wonwoo changed into something to sleep in as well.

You sat up against the bed frame as Wonwoo went to your thighs and started massaging your muscle. Once he finished help ease the tension in your thighs, he laid down next to you and you rested your head on his chest. You enjoyed moments with him, cuddled up, warm, and safe.

"I love you," You whispered to him. You noticed him softly smile.

"I love you too," He kissed your lips.

[cissi-sh01]

USO kit tier list based on my bias

(just the players I normally watch)

WTA:

Tier A+

coco - NB's design and colour choice always makes so much sense. the back side design and the width of the skirt's folds are supre cute 🥺 they actually use their brain when designing kits!

naomi - without the jacket its maybe just so so, but an absolute banger with the jacket on. should be remembered as a historically significant kit for tennis fashion. and the headphones ohmygawd 🥺🥺🥺 who ever think this kit is not cute can fight me

Tier A

maria - whenever she gets a tank top kit she serves hard. nice colour choice and skirt design by addidas (cant believe im saying that) so sad it only existed for 1 set 😭

marta - wilson just going with the 1 dress design that worked well in every slam and its still working well. the skirt's texure looked so nice in the wind

Tier B

dasha & karo - a bit boring but suits their vibes well

qinwen - same. would like some brighter colours but was fine

katie & bibi - the actual best nike WTA kit. lilac looks cute especially under sunlight, but the design is a bit too boring for me

Tier C

elena - colour is cute, she looks like a barbie in pink, but 0 design and 0 sense in the patterning choice. looks like some swim suit my mom would buy me when I was 10

aryna (nigh match version)- how dare they call that a custom kit i can do the same design in 10 mins

Iga - bisexual flag colour but a low saturation version. also points taken off for their kits starting to look like wet tissue 20 mins into a match

Tier D

Mirra & Paula - hate the colour hate the design. nike how dare you put that ugly ass kit on them die and rot in hell

jasmine - (a) its the same north american hard court swing kit asics making 0 effort as usual (b) i do not understand that colour choice like why dull reddish purple with bright orange. what made you think of that

ATP:

Tier A+

daniil- nice colours, nice jacket, nice little design around the chest part, nice shoes. wth lacoste you can actually design???????

Tier A

Adidas people - contrary to their RG series the purple-ish blue the used this time works very well with black & white and minimalist design

Carlos - black sleeveless will never not look nice on him but its still a bit boring. would love to have a bit more special texture, with that it will def be A+

Francis - the only person that got the good nike kit (i.e. the lilac kit) in ATP if im not mistaken

Tier B

lorenzo (musetti) i like guys who wear barbie pink and look proud wearing it

matteo - not super interesting design but colour is cute. also he looks nice in polo shirts

Grigor - standard lacoste design with reasonable colour choice

Tier B-

Jannik- the kit was okay and looked a bit better than i expected. im just still a angry about his 1st set

casper - its actually okay but he kind of looked exactly the same as his opponent so i really had a hard time watching 😭

Tier C

novak - i dont understand the design why so many squares and rectangles sir can you explain. it just makes him look more like a tennis robot with implanted AI

holger (the purple kit) - should have just taken the barbie pink one

ben - same with iga. seriously i would like to know how much ON has paid them to wear those wet tissue kits

Taylor - it looks fine but 0 design, just went for the safest choice

Tier D

Jack - (a) i do not understand the back side design (b) nike how did you make the T shirt look oversized for a 193cm tall and rather muscular athlete wtf

Alex - is that pattern choice meant to make his opponent dizzy by looking at him or something

[sumeruin]

♫♪: minor writing smut, dni if uncomfortable!!

♫♪: pairing: dilf! kazuha x reader

♫♪: warnings: written by a minor, semi-public sex, brief mentions of overstimulation and oral (no areas specified), aftercare, mentions of scars, i think that’s it, but if i missed anything please let me know!!

♫♪: a/n: mindless rambles about dilf kazuha from 3am this morning <3 also, new header!! i haven’t had time to actually change up my theme yet, so this is the best are gonna get for now <3

♫♪: minor writing smut, dni if uncomfortable!!

ok… so dilf kazuha… (modern au obvi) maybe he bulks up a little more as he ages, gets more muscular, gathers some more scars all over his body. he still keeps his hair long, though now he wears it down most of the time, not having the time in the mornings to put it up between his kid and his job. sometimes he’ll put it in a little bun, when he’s cooking or doing something where his hair would get in the way, and it suits him so well.

i’m thinking he has a little bit of peach fuzz too. not a full beard or anything, but just enough for you to feel it when he kisses your thighs before going down on you, the hair adding that small, extra bit of stimulation to make you cum so much faster on his tongue.

he usually wears a casual outfit, just a thin, white t shirt, some grey sweatpants, and a pair of tennis shoes. between his job as a bodyguard and his kid, he doesn’t really have the energy for much else. except, of course, for those rare special occasions where he dresses up, usually for his date nights with you, and he wears a black and red suit. a red button up, with a black suit jacket, tie, and dres pants. these are also the occasions where he’ll put his hair up and wear some nice cologne (unrelated but i have a whole cologne/perfume rant about genshin characters in my head if anyone is interested) only because he knows you love it so much.

he takes you out to a nice restaurant, both of you practically clinging to each other as you sit at the table, and he always, without fail, takes you back to his house and absolutely ruins you afterwards, the perfect way to relieve a little stress after a busy week. and it’s not like you’re complaining, either. kazuha is very much a giver, making sure you cum at the very least twice before he even thinks about actually fucking you, leaving you more than satisfied and overstimulated, enough to hold you over until the next week.

sometimes, he’ll change it up, still very much a wanderer at heart, and take you somewhere calmer. maybe you’ll go stargazing one night, and he’ll get to fuck you under the endless, beautiful sky, pointing out all the constellations he can see while he’s balls deep inside of you, waxing poetic about how gorgeous you look under the moonlight while you cum for him. or you’ll go see the maple trees at night, and he’ll press you up against the bark while he slides your clothes off, taking care not to scratch or rip any of the fabric. it’s not like you’d particularly care if he did, you’re always too fucked out and tired from cumming your brains out to be able to think about your clothes, or anything besides him, really.

he has the best aftercare, too, even if he does sometimes have to wait a little bit until you can get back home. he always runs you a warm bath, and fills it with sweet smelling oils and flower petals reserved just for you, massaging some lightly scented lotion and body oils into your sore joints afterwards and holding you close to him strong, scarred body as you fall asleep. and he’s a great cook, always making you the best breakfasts after a night full of railing you into the mattress. his go to is french toast, but he’ll make you anything you want as long as you just ask him <33

[sykesandskittles]

CHAPTER TWO

Harlow

Harlow

AT NINE-THIRTY ON THE DOT, Talia is at my door, and she looks incredible, as always. She’s wearing a black strapless dress that shows off the butterfly tattoo right below her collarbone, and a pair of high-heels that make her at least two inches taller. She’s carrying a sequined clutch that only looks big enough to hold her phone.

She frowns at me. “You’re not wearing that.”

I glance down at myself and shrug. I’m wearing jeans, my cleanest pair of tennis shoes, and a sweater that’s kinda cute. It’s not as fancy as her dress, but it’s not as casual as my usual outfits, at least.

“There wasn’t a dress code on the invitation,” I point out.

With a sigh, Talia pushes into my room. “Hi Emily,” she says, waving at my roommate, who is sitting on her bed with her laptop, headphones covering her ears. Emily waves, then goes back to whatever she was doing.

Talia goes straight to my tiny closet, tearing through it like a woman on a mission. She pulls several things out, looks at them, then puts them back with a huff—until, finally, she finds something. She holds a short, maroon dress up to me, eyeing it critically. “Are your legs shaved?”

“Yeah. I shaved them yesterday before we went to the beach.”

“Good.” She pushes the dress into my chest. “Put this on while I find some shoes.”

I take the dress. “This dress is two years old. It’s way too small for me now.”

In the past two years, I’ve gained about fifteen or twenty pounds. And I don’t hate it, honestly. I know you’re supposed to want to be skinny, but I’ve always liked my curves, and the extra weight has never bothered me.

But shoving that twenty extra pounds into this dress is like asking me to stuff a rolled sleeping bag back into its sack. Some things are just impossible.

“Perfect,” Talia says. “It’ll show off your assets. Now, hurry. We’ve got to go.”

With a sigh, I tug the dress on just to prove how wrong Talia 's vision is. But once the dress settles into place, it actually doesn’t look too bad. It’s tight, but it props my breasts up nicely, making them look far more perky than they actually are. The only downside is that the dress is really short, so half my ass is hanging out. But whatever. It’ll work for a couple of hours.

Talia steps back, and looks me over, head to toe. “Minimal makeup, but you can get away with that. You look gorgeous.” She shoves a pair of black strappy kitten heels at me. “Now let’s go. It’s going to take at least ten minutes to get across campus.”

Thankfully, the residence halls here don’t have curfews, otherwise, we’d be fucked. We make it across campus in record time, but that’s because I’m practically running. The campus is dead at night and darkness seeps into every corner, so the unease I feel is pretty intense.

I’m so anxious, I barely notice the cold wind coming off the ocean. I’m just determined to get to Rush House, clutching my pocket-sized stun gun the entire way. I only shove it into my small purse once we see the spire of the old house jutting up over the student affairs building.

The house is just as dark and mysterious as I remember, and a shiver rolls down my spine as we walk past two gnarled gargoyles that flank the walkway leading up to the porch.

As we get closer, I can see there’s someone dressed in a tux standing at the door. He eyes us as we walk up. “This is a private event,” he says just as we mount the top step.

I pull out my invite and hand him both pieces. He glances down at them, then looks up at me. “Name?”

I hesitate, and Talia nudges me. “Harlow Anderson and Talia Langley.” His gaze shifts to Talia , and there’s a second when I think he’s going to turn us away. But instead, he holds out a basket that has a pile of cell

phones inside. “Phones aren’t allowed,” he says by way of explanation.

Talia pops forward, dropping her cell phone into the basket, then snatches mine and puts it in the basket, too. I open my mouth to say something—namely how ridiculous there is no cell phone rule is—but the guy opens the giant oak door, and Talia is already pulling me inside.

The second I step over the threshold, into the foyer, I suck in a breath. The outside of the house is creepy as fuck, but the inside isn’t much better. It’s giving…Haunted Mansion. Wide sweeping staircase, dark hallways, oversized portraits. Wealth practically drips from every antique surface. I’m betting the vase in the foyer alone would fetch a fortune on Marketplace.

Talia and I are guided to the right, and into a large room, where everyone is gathered. Right outside the doorway, there’s a sign on a pedestal that reads, “Silence past this point.”

I grab Talia 's arm, and make a face, like what the fuck? She just shrugs and continues walking deeper into the room. Someone with a tray hands us each a glass of champagne, which I tip back and drain immediately, grabbing a fresh glass before the guy can walk away.

Talia gives me a look, but whatever. If I’m going to make it through the next couple of hours, then I’ll need to be comfortably numb. It’s the only way.

We stop at the edge of the room, and I scan the large, elegant space. Expensive-looking paintings hang on the walls in gold frames, and there’s a crystal chandelier suspended in the center of the room. Everything about this ancient house screams wealth, privilege, and the elite.

My gaze shifts to the faces surrounding me, and the first thing I notice is the fact that there are so few guys here. This room is filled with girls, probably all ExU students, each more stunning than the last. They’re all wearing designer dresses paired with chunky jewelry, and Gucci purses slung over their bony shoulders. I feel like I’ve tumbled down the rabbit hole and landed in some kind of couture ad.

Heels clack on the hardwood floor as the girls walk around, completely silent, sipping their drinks. Some stand in groups, while others look like they’re making an effort to be seen–strutting elegantly, champagne in hand, chins tilted upward.

Thump. Thump. Thump .

I can’t see where the sound is coming from, but on the other side of the room, four cloaked figures emerge, filing into the room—the same mysterious figures from last night. But this time, they’re not wearing the gold masks.

The second they enter, there’s a renewed energy in the air. The cloaked figures fan out, dispersing into the crowd–and as they pass each girl, their gazes linger, like they’re assessing each person individually.

Um.

I lean into Talia .“What’s happening?”

She shrugs without looking at me, her eyes glued to this odd thing unfolding in front of us.

I try to make out the stranger from last night—the one with wintery brown eyes. But I never saw his face, and these guys all look similar—huge, broad-shouldered, and they all walk with the confidence that comes with being born into wealth and privilege.

I wonder if these are The Omens that the website mentioned.

I take two large gulps of my champagne, tilting my head back, and closing my eyes as the bubbles slide down my throat. I’m already feeling a bit lightheaded from the first glass, so things are moving along nicely. A couple more drinks and I may even forget why I’m here.

One can only hope.

I hold up my empty glass and lean over to Talia . She’s barely even touched her drink. “I’m going to hunt down more champagne,” I say a little louder than I intend.

Talia elbows me. “Shhh. My God, Harlow , are you trying to get us kicked out? Go and come back quickly.”

With a nod, I scan the immediate area and spot a guy with a tray moving toward the center of the room. Nice. I start after him, like a lioness stalking a gazelle on the Serengeti. Wobbling a little on my heels, I weave my way through the patches of fellow college girls, keeping those tall champagne flutes squarely in my line of vision.

I’m halfway to my fresh glass when a wall of muscle appears in front of me. A wall that’s encased in a long, navy blue robe. Up close, I can see the hood is separate and made of a velvety black material–no idea why I fixate on that small detail.

Glancing up, up, up, I gulp audibly when I catch a glimpse of the Wall’s face—classically handsome with a cut jawline, straight nose, dark, wavy hair, and those light brown eyes that cut into me with such raw intensity, it makes my heart skip a beat. Or maybe it just stops completely. Either way, I feel a bit faint.

This is the guy from last night. I know it instinctively.

I take a step back to give him room to pass, but in the process, I teeter on my heel and start to go down. He catches me by the arms, and steadys me, his long fingers gripping me tightly, almost painfully.

“Um, t-thanks,” I say. But his hands linger on me, and his eyes are narrowed, his lips pressed into a hard line. He looks…angry, almost like he doesn’t want me here.

Before I can even feel a twinge of embarrassment, though, someone bumps into me from behind, shoving me into the angry stranger, my front pressed into his rock-hard chest. He barely moves, so it’s like being pinned against a slab of granite. A warm slab of granite that smells faintly like the ocean.

I push against his chest to separate us. “S-sorry.”

With a quirk of his full lips, he dips his head and speaks directly in my ear, “You’d better watch your step, Little Rabbit. In this house, there are vipers everywhere.”

I swallow a wisp of air .

Little Rabbit? Vipers?

My mind works overtime trying to figure out what he could mean, but I come up blank. So I open my mouth to ask him, but he’s already walking away, being swallowed up by a bunch of girls trying to get his attention.

I manage to grab the champagne I was after, but as I make my way back to Talia , I notice everyone in the room is looking at me, their gazes following me from under a sea of fake lashes. The distinct vibe of disapproval trails my every step.

When I get back to Talia , she’s standing next to another girl, talking in low tones behind her glass—I’m guessing so she isn’t seen breaking the rules. The other girl is wearing a satin navy-blue dress that falls mid-thigh and shows off her long, gold-tinted legs. She has an easy smile, and it looks like Talia and her have already made friends. Talia has always been that way. She could make a life-long friend while standing in line at the post office.

The girl smiles at me, flashing a row of perfectly white teeth.

Talia leans into me. “This is Wyn. She was just explaining all of this to me.”

I nod and force a smile at Wyn, still a little shaken by my encounter with the angry guy. I ball my hand into a fist to stop it from trembling.

Wyn comes over to stand next to me, so I’m sandwiched between her and Talia . We huddle a little, holding our glasses up to our mouths so that we can whisper.

“Hey,” Wyn says. “Welcome.”

“Thanks,” I responded, my voice barely audible. “I’m Harlow . ”

“Oh, wow, that’s a unique name,” she says. “Don’t worry. If they catch us talking they’ll just come over and tell us to stop. They won’t kick us out.”

Bummer. Getting kicked out is the best-case scenario at this point.

Wyn lifts her perfectly manicured brows. “We saw you talking to Noah Sabastian a minute ago.”

Noah. So that’s his name.

“Yeah, I almost trampled his foot.”

“He’s one of the four Omen boys, and every girl in this room is after him,” she says.

Well, that explains the tsunami of dirty looks that came roaring at me a few minutes ago.

I scrunch my nose. “Not sure why they’re after him, but whatever. To each their own, I guess.”

Wyn smiles. “I mean, aside from his fuck-me face, he’s insanely rich. He owns this house, and he has more power at this school than the fucking Dean. So, yeah…”

Damn.

I’m not sure what to say to that, but thankfully, I’m saved from having to reply. A young guy in a suit walks to the center of the room, and thumps

on the floor with a carved stick, re-creating the same thump, thump, thump

from before.

The silence in the room grows thicker, expectant.

“The Omens will now make their selections,” he intones, his deep voice echoing off the dark, wood-paneled walls. Excited chatter ripples like little waves throughout the room, breaking the spell of silence. No one says it explicitly, but I guess we can talk now.

“Oh, shit,” Talia squeaks. “It’s happening.”

I take a sip of my champagne and turn to Wyn. “What are they selecting? ”

“They’ll each choose a consort for the upcoming academic year.” She spreads her hands, gesturing to the room. “That’s what this whole Preference Ceremony is.”

I blink. Did he just say consort?

What in the middle ages is happening here?

If they start sacrificing people, I’m leaving. Period.

I half-turn to Talia and pull a face, like, did you just hear what I just heard? But she doesn’t even see me. Her gaze is fixed on what’s happening with this guy thumping his stick, trying to bring everyone to attention. She’s always been really into this kind of thing. Cliques. Groups. Clubs. You name it, and if it’s considered cool, she wants to be a part of it.

I’ve clearly lost Talia , so I turn back to Wyn. “So what happens after they make their selections?” I practically gag on that last part, because you’d think we were talking about lobsters in a tank. Not actual people.

Wyn doesn’t have a chance to answer, though, because immediately after the guy makes that announcement, all the girls assemble themselves, gathering in the middle of the room. Wyn directs us to join as well, even though we’re not really a part of whatever this is.

The four Omen boys step up onto a wooden platform and stand in a line, shoulder to shoulder, hands clasped behind their backs. Masters of the universe. Kings of their domain.

Noah snags my attention first, and I can’t help but replay our last interaction in my head—the warmth of his breath brushing across my cheek, his hand squeezing my arm just a fraction too tight. I swallow, and suck in a long pull of perfumed air, trying to calm the anxiety pooling in my stomach .

Talia homes in on my discomfort. “What’s wrong, babe?”

I blow out a breath and drum up a reason, pulled from the plethora of my insecurities. “I don’t know, I guess I just feel out of place here.”

“Why?” Talia scoffs. “Because these people are rich? Who cares? You’re cooler than anyone here. You know, you really need to start that positive affirmation journal I gave you.”

Journals have never really been my thing. Why write my emotions down when I can just bottle them up inside, and wait for them to ferment? Drunk on my own pain. Sounds perfect. I doubt my therapist would agree, though. I can practically hear him in my mind.

This is a new beginning, Harlow . Put the past aside, and be brave.

I thread my arm through Talia 's. If I’m brave, it’s because she’s here with me. No matter the situation, she’s always on my side, always encouraging me. She’s the one person in my life—besides my grandmother

—who truly loves me.

I glance back up at the platform, shifting my gaze to the two guys to Noah’s right. They have similar features, so they must be brothers— Dark, classically handsome, both with long hair that falls to their shoulders

Then there’s the guy to Noah’s left—incredibly tall, with dark hair and an expression that looks like a permanent scowl, and if the breadth of his shoulders is any indication, then he must be built like a brick house under that robe.

One thing they have in common, though—they all look like trust fund kids. Like they all have kidnap insurance and throw beer cans off their yachts.

“So, who are these guys?” I ask Wyn.

“Noah Sabastian ,Nick folio, and those two are fraternal twins— Nicholas and Jolly Karlsson. They rule the Burning Crown.”

I nod, shocked that Wyn is being so forthcoming. Maybe she figures our presence here is approval enough to let us in on the basics. Whatever her reason, I’m just happy someone is explaining things.

My eyes shift back to the guys, and I study them. “They look douchey.” Sexy, undoubtedly toned under those robes, with faces like that? Yeah, no thanks. Guys like that are always more trouble than they’re worth. Universally.

“You’re not wrong,” Wyn laughs. “but they’re also worshiped around here. Their families practically own the school. Their last names are on

every building on campus.”

It’s meant to make them sound impressive, but somehow it just makes them even more douchey. College guys being worshiped? Ugh.

Wyn continues, “Noah is the oldest, so he’ll choose first.”

And almost like Wyn had summoned him, Noah steps forward. I watch with curiosity as he recites something—in Latin maybe—looking down into the sea of girls. There’s a buzz of excitement, like they’re all waiting with their breaths held, hoping to be chosen as prom queen.

Wow.

But as I look around, I realize how important this ceremony is to everyone here, and I feel bad for judging this whole thing so harshly. This ceremony is a crazy concept to me, but hey, it takes all kinds, right?

With a less critical eye, I study the faces of the girls surrounding me. We all have our weird things, right? And everyone wants to be the chosen one, singled out amid an ocean of beautiful faces. Plucked from the shadows.

Well, everyone, except me.

I’ve been there, done that, and have the emotional scars to prove it. I’m perfectly content in the shadows.

But I shouldn’t color everything with my own experiences.

I’m contemplating that when everything suddenly goes still, and the room falls back into silence. A hundred pairs of eyes slowly turn in my direction. I just blink back at them, confused. What’s happening? It isn’t until Talia nudges me that I realize why they’re all staring. Noah is still standing on the platform, his Dark Brown eyes locked on one target.

Me.

[mypoisonedvine]

idk if u are into this kinda thing but u should write something for a pedro character with a foot fetish 🫣 personally i think either javier or marcus would absolutely worship every part of ur body

ohhh I'm very much into this kind of thing... marcus totally seems like the type (I assume you mean pike not moreno so that's what I went with)

warnings: subby marcus, semi-public/fooling around at work, foot fetish (duh), orgasm control

He should've never said anything about your heels. He realized that now.

"Dominatrix vibes, huh?" you smirked as he felt his face heat up. "Is that a bad thing? Should I grab my tennis shoes from my car?"

"Uh, not necessarily," he replied. "I just meant 'cause they're stilettos and all— and the spikes, I mean, come on. You can't tell me you don't see it."

"No, no, I'm not disagreeing," you assured. "Maybe that's what I was going for."

He swallowed thickly. You were a pretty intense lady, a real go-getter in the office, and that's saying something considering pretty much everyone who works at the FBI is dedicated and serious. You were bordering on uptight, though; you didn't really go out after work, which Marcus resented because he wanted a chance to get to know you better. You didn't joke around with people, you didn't talk about your personal life. So he was just a bit taken aback to see you wearing those shoes— black, shiny stilettos with silver spikes around the pointed toe. He only pointed them about because he thought it might start a conversation, and I suppose in that way, he got what he wanted. But you were looking right through him now and he realized he'd definitely bit off more than he could chew.

"I wear the same thing basically every day," you shrugged, "black slacks, black blazer, white shirt. I think different outfits can be... distracting."

"Those shoes are definitely distracting," he agreed.

"I can tell," you smirked. "Your slacks are giving that away, Pike."

He choked and adjusted himself in his pants as he wiggled around slightly in his desk chair, but it was already too late; he was so gonna get written up for getting a boner at work... "S-sorry," he blurted out, "it's not— sorry— I was just—"

"It's fine," you laughed, "I won't tell. I just think it's funny."

"Yeah," he breathed, trying to figure out what he could possibly say to that. "I guess it is. But you can't tell me you didn't want somebody to notice your shoes."

"Notice? Sure. Get off on? No, that wasn't my plan," you assured with a bit of an eyeroll.

"Woah, woah— nobody's getting off on anything," he defended, "I'm just surprised, is all. Sort of the last thing I expected you to wear."

"You don't know anything about me."

"Whose fault is that?"

You sighed, turning in your swivel chair to face him again. "What do you wanna know about me?" you asked, point-blank.

"Uh..." he hesitated, not sure where to start with that question. "Sort of an... abrupt way to open up, don't you think?"

"I figure once you know me, you'll get over your crush," you explained, "and we can all get back to work."

Thankfully, we all was a pretty small crowd with only you two in this portion of the office— there were other people somewhere in the building, he wasn't sure where and he couldn't possibly think about it now, but for all intents and purposes, you two were alone. That fact dawned on him rather suddenly.

"I don't have a crush, I'm just interested in you," Marcus insisted.

"That's what a crush is," you replied.

"I mean as a person! I'm interested in who you are, I don't mean like... that, really..."

"Uh huh," you agreed, though you didn't seem to believe him. You rolled your chair closer. "Just ask away, I'm an open book."

"Well, okay," Marcus decided, spinning to face you again as well and hoping his tie was long enough when he was sitting to cover the bulge in his pants. "Where did you... grow up?"

"Not far from here," you said quickly. He opened his mouth to say more, but shivered when he felt your shoe brush against his ankle. Oh fuck. "I'll answer before you ask: easy childhood, normal family, my parents are nice, my siblings live far away."

But he was hardly listening— you were running the pointed toe of that heel up his leg, making his jaw drop a bit.

"Keep asking," you ordered.

"Uh," he choked, "do you have any... hobbies?"

"I like going to the movies," you said, planting your foot between his spread legs on the chair, letting the end of the stiletto heel brush his inner thigh as he jumped, "and concerts sometimes."

"Fuck," he breathed before clearing his throat. "Do you like... uh... do you like Indian food?"

"That's your third question?" you raised an eyebrow incredulously.

"I was thinking of taking you out," he said, his eyes glued on the way you teased his thigh with your heel, "for Indian. Would you like that?"

"Oh," you replied, "you were thinking of taking me out. I see. Just that, then— you were thinking of buying me dinner."

"Y-yeah..."

"You weren't thinking about fucking me?"

He whimpered as your shoe pressed up (gently) against the bulge in his slacks, and his hips rocked up against you ever so slightly. "Oh, god—"

"You weren't thinking about bending me over your desk?" you continued, taunting him with a proud grin on your face. You were so fucking pretty, he kept looking back between your face and your heel between his thighs— and that long, gorgeous leg in between, he could see your pantyhose up this close...

"I— I wasn't— I mean—" he stammered.

"Or is that not your thing?" you tilted your head. "Were you wanting it more, like, I'd come up to you and straddle you in that chair and ride you until I was satisfied? Maybe make you eat me out under my desk?"

"Oh, fuck," he gasped as you pressed your shoe harder against him. "I— I never thought about it like that. But I... I am now."

You giggled happily, and the sound made his heart twist. "You seem to like my shoes a lot, Marc, I hope you don't mind if I take them off."

He had to bite his lip when you kicked your heel off and let it fall to the ground, leaving your foot in the skin-tone pantyhose to tickle his leg instead; the shoe was a great visual, don't get me wrong, but feeling you bend and flex your foot, pointing your toes, and seeing that you had your toenails painted with some kind of sparkly polish? It drove him fucking wild.

"Yeah, I don't think you mind."

"I— fuck, angel," he groaned, his head falling back as you pressed your now basically-bare foot against his bulge, your toes tickling his head while your heel put pressure on his aching balls. "Fuck."

"I think you thought about this before," you smirked. "Don't lie to me."

"I did," he admitted, "it's just— that day you wore the stockings with the black line up the back..."

You smiled proudly. "You're a bit of a pervert, aren't you, Pike?"

"I— yeah, I guess so," he panted, starting to grind himself against your foot shamelessly. "But you're the one that wears dominatrix shoes."

You chuckled and bit your lip. "Yeah, that's fair. You know, I think I'll let you take me out for dinner sometime after all."

His eyes opened again and he looked at you. "Really?" he asked.

"If you come in your pants for me, right now."

"Oh, fuck," he grunted, his hands holding on tight to the armrests of his chair.

"You think you can come just from my foot on your dick?"

"P-probably..."

"You're such a naughty boy," you cooed, and he bit his lip.

"I'm— I'm close," he admitted quietly, jumping slightly when you moved your foot down so your toes could tickle his tightened balls. "Shit, angel, m'gonna— yeah, I'll come. Fuck."

"Mm, good— I like when you're obedient," you decided. "Good behavior gets you far with me. Just do what you're told and you'll get what you want, got it?"

"Yes— yes ma'am..."

You grinned and rubbed your foot harder against him. "Come, Marcus."

He winced, hissing through his teeth, and a second later he was over the edge— his cock flexed against your foot and hot, sticky come flooded his boxers. His flushed face was twisted in pleasure, and he heard you hum in delight as he relaxed in his chair with the last pump of come leaving his balls.

"Good job," you praised, though your voice was still stern; he reached down and rested his hand on your leg, grasping your foot briefly before running his fingers up your stocking-clad skin.

"That was... Jesus," he choked. "Was that just to get back at me for saying you had on dominatrix shoes?"

"Not just that," you giggled. "Besides, you're wearing submissive bitch boy shoes."

He looked at his oxfords and back up at you. "What? How?"

You shrugged. "Just because you're wearing them."

As if you hadn't embarrassed him enough already. Not that he was complaining.

"Now get back to work," you sighed, pulling your foot away and slipping effortlessly back into your heels; you turned away from him again and tapped at your keyboard to get your computer awake again. "You can take me out Friday night."

"O-okay," he nodded, awkwardly clearing his throat and preparing to pretend to work for the rest of the day— because obviously, he was not going to be productive whatsoever.

[canmargesimpson]

Chapter 3:

Chap 1 & Chap 2

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☪ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Just as Eddie said, he eventually went on tour across the USA, leaving Steve and Gimli all on their own in the house. And the worst part is that they never got a call back from the adoption agency. Now that Steve was all alone and the only  thing he thought about was the kids and kids and more kids,  eventually became a strange topic for him. After that fight with Eddie, they both agreed to wait till they were both home for enough time to take care of a child.

So he tried to spend as much time on the basketball court of the school he worked in, playing alone and trying to think of anything but Eddie or the kids. He sometimes would also use the school’s pool, to bring back the memories of him being the captain of the swimming team back in hawkins. The more he ran or swam, the less the thoughts of kids were inside his head, and the less he missed eddie. So for the past week it has become a routine to, end work, go do whatever sport he felt like doing till 7 o'clock striked. Then he would go back to his office, get his stuff and head home to Gimli.

Today was Friday, November 4, 1996. Steve was drying his hair as he walked to his classroom with the blue towel on his hands. He had just spent the last 4 hours swimming over and over again at the pool, since Robin had a date and he was all alone. Since it's friday, he would usually have a movie night with Eddie, but since he’s not there, Steve just kept his head under the water to forget his loneliness. His shoes echoed through the completely empty hall. But as Steve started walking slower he realized that wasn't the only sound in the hall. He heard soft cries and sniffs from the half open theater class. 

Steve has been through enough trauma to know he shouldn’t follow the strange noise coming from the dark room, and especially if he is on his own and with nothing to defend himself with, but the cries were so heartbreaking, he didn’t even care if it was a trap. When he started working as a teacher, his empathy levels went through the roof, and whenever a kid had a slight frown on his face, something in him made him reach out and make sure that kid is not going through a hard or bad time. But still a nostalgic feeling crept over his shoulder and made him feel this slight panic on his stomach, what if it was a trap?. He immediately discarded the noise from the upside down since the last time he checked, Demogorgons don’t cry, and the gate was closed over 10 years ago. But it still could be a thief or some robber, so to defend himself. Before he could actually step into the theater class, he looked around the lockers to find a Tennis racquet which he grabbed and placed in an attack position in case of an emergency.

He took a step into the dark room to find a completely Victorian age set on the stage. It looked right out of a Shakespeare play, with deep red drapes, a large wooden table with a plastic shaped wine glass with a fake dagger next to it. But on the deep right end of the stage where a tall bed with big pillows and red velvet bedspread was located, was a dark haired girl sobbing into her hands. She was clearly under the probably fake bedspread and was wearing a black hoodie. 

Steve’s teacher and mommy instinct switched on as he left the stupid tennis racquet and turned the drama class light on. The girl on the bed gasped completely shocked to realize she wasn't as alone as she was. She looked towards the door to find her Counseling teacher in the entrance.

“Mr Harrington?”

“What the hell are you doing here?!” he asked with a loud and firm voice. He really wanted to approach her and hug the life out of her, but since he was a teacher, he needed to put the authority hat on. He walked down the step while placing his towel behind his neck. 

“I-I- I should go '' she stumbled out the bed as she grabbed a backpack on the floor filled with pins that loudly clashed as she moved the backpack harshly. Before she can even step out of the stage Steve is already walking up the stairs from the side stage.

“What’s going on? Why are you crying? '' He said as he gently placed his hand on her shoulder, for her to flinch and move backwards. 

“It’s nothing” she sniffed

“Nothing? You’re at school on a Friday because of nothing?,” he asked rhetorically. The girl seemed amused so he just came up with a better way to open to her “How about we go back to my office i believe i have some cookies left that are about to expire”

“I-” she looked at the floor and then mumbled quietly “I… okay”

She gave in quicker than he thought, so he nudged to the office and she just nodded. She went back to the bed on the stage and removed from under the bed a sports duffle bag filled with stuff. She then picked up her sneakers and started to put them on. Steve was quick to grab her bag and put it on his shoulder to help her a bit. Once she was all laced up, they both walked to Steve's office in a tense and uncomfortable silence. 

Once they got there, Steve opened his drawer and took out just what he remembered from earlier. It was an Oreo pack that was about a month old. As the young girl sat down in front of him and quickly grabbed a tissue from a little yellow box with some drawings of sheep. 

“Let’s see” Steve turned them around to find the expiration date “it says it has a few days more, how about we eat them before i have to throw them” 

“S-sure” she sniffed as she blew her nose.

Steve opened the package and offered the girl in front of him a cookie, which she gladly accepted. He took one for himself and left them on the table that separated them. He then crossed his arms over his chest, knowing he had to put his teacher shoes on for this conversation.

“So… School on a Friday night, sleeping on the theater bed and now eating cookies with the basketball and swimming couch… would you like to explain to me how we got here…… I’m sorry, um I don’t know your name” he says honestly which kinda made her laugh

“Julia… Bennet” she said as she swallowed her cookie and wipe the few tears she had left

“Bennet…. Is your brother Owen? He’s on the basketball team that’s why I ask” he said. He does have the parents' contact, so maybe he could take her back to her house.

Her face, though, shifted clearly. Julia looked down at her lap where her thumbs fiddled together, she nodded quietly. Steve clearly realized that maybe her brother wasn't the best subject to talk about at the moment, so he just left that information in the drawers for now. 

“Now Julia, would you like to explain to me how you got here? It’s quite late, and i'm pretty sure your parents must be looking for you” 

She scoffed loudly before covering her mouth with her hands while staring back at the coach. 

“Im sorry” she mumbled

Steve nodded and took another cookie, as he indicated her to start talking

“Well i… I got home after school, and I invited my best friend over for a sleepover. Do you know Katya?” she asked

“Howard?”

“Yeah”

“Yeah, she’s in the swimming team”

She looked back down and her stability started to break as she let out a small sob

“Well” her voice was seconds away from breaking, but she didn’t seem to care, because she kept trying to speak as if everything was okay “we were in my room and we were just talking … then I- well she- and i….” she stumbled 

“Take your time sweetie” Steve said as he pushed the oreo package towards her. She took one quickly and shoved into her mouth. After a few bites, we swallowed harshly and grabbed another tissue to wipe her eyes. 

She inhaled and looked up trying to make the tears stop. 

“We kissed?” she shrugged while cringing at herself “and- jesus christ…. My brother walked in and h-h-he told my d-” and after that she broke as she shoved her face on her hands and cried

Steve got off his chair to kneel next to her, placing a hand on her back and softly caressing it. He knew in that exact moment how the story continued. I mean, Eddie went through something quite similar, so he only placed the pieces on his mind and made a quick and smart decision.

“Okay, let’s go” he said as he grabbed the cookies, his own bag, and Julia’s bag.

The girl pushed her hair back asking where

“There is no way you are staying the night here, and no way I'm taking you back home. So you are gonna spend the night me, i have an extra room, and you can spend the weekend if you want to”

“Mr Harrington you don’t need-”

“I do” he interrupts and looks her in the eyes “I have to make sure you are safe, that’s my job, so now grab your stuff and let's get moving, alright?”

Julia smiled and stood up. They both walked to the only car left in the parking lot left, in complete comfortable silence. Steve placed her things on the back as she sat on the passenger looking at the cassette collection. Steve noticed she was quite interested in his favorite, so as they drove back to his house, Steve and Julia sat side by side listening to Eddie’s music. Julia seemed to know the songs quite well which made Steve smile. Once they got home, Steve took her to the guest bedroom that was usually for when anyone in the party stayed over, or anyone in Eddie’s band needed a place to crash. 

“Now this is gonna be your room, we have a small bathroom attached to it, it has some products and stuff if you need. This room is quite nice because the sun doesn’t really get here till sunset, in which this room turns into this… Golden box, and my hus- roommate says” Steve smiled tightlipped

“You have a roommate?” Julia asked quite scared

“Yeah but he’s not really here for the moment. He’s currently out of town… to see family”

“Okay” she nodded

Steve then walked out to let her have her space, and to make sure the house was clean. Since Gimli is the only one home 24/7, he would push things off the tables or even take some of Eddie's clothes into the living room where he would sleep on them. So Steve was picking up some band t-shirts on the floor, some decorations and a dirty sock, when Julia came out of her room and stood on the door looking at the floor. She was wearing her pajamas, which consisted of a band t-shirt  shirt (a band that Eddie definitely would have known), and some long sweat shorts that reached her knee.

“Mr Harrington?” she called, and he instantly placed the stuff on his hand behind his back to make sure she didn’t see the mess “Are you…. Are you gonna call the cops on me?” 

Even though he believed it wasn't possible, his heart broke even more.

“What?! Where did you get that from?”

“My dad…” she sniffed “he told me that… homosexual should be dead” then gasped “and… taken to jail- and i” and finally sobbed like a kid “don’t want to go to jail Mr Harrington- I swear i’ve tried to change but-”

Steve started to cry now too. He ran to her and held her as he would have held his younger self. The way he would have held tiny steve, comforting him, telling him that being confused over his sexuality is normal. She buried her head on his chest sobbing loudly. So loud that Steve didn’t hear the door opening.

“Honey! Im Home-” Eddie yells but stops as he witnesses the single most cutest thing ever. His husband was holding an 11 year old girl who was crying. 

“Eddie?” Steve looked up to see him holding a bouquet of flowers and a duffle bag “wha-”

And what happened next was just a blur. It was a mix of both grown ups crying because they missed each other, and the small girl crying at the comfort both adults gave her as they told her that being queer isn’t illegal and that they would protect her in any way possible. Even though Eddie didn’t really know who she was, he comforted her and told him his experience of getting kicked out of the house for his sexuality and how at the end of the day it was for the best. Later at night the three of them, and Gimli of course, curled up on the couch and ended up watching the old VHS tape of Mary Poppins. Julia, who was on the edge of the couch with the fat, short, orange cat on her lap, fell asleep by the end of the movie, and so did Steve. Eddie, knowing his husband had a rough day, stood up and carried the girl to the guest bedroom.

She stirred awake as he left her on the bed

“Shhh shhh, it's okay, don’t be scared, '' he whispered. “I'm just leaving you at bed, okay? Nothing else”

Julia’s eyes fluttered and looked up at the adult who had his face covered by his hair

“T-thank you” she murmured under her breath as she took the duvet and covered her shoulder “mr..”

“Call me Eddie kiddo'' he winked as he kneeled in front of her “and, it's the least we could do. Beside” he felt a small purr and lean on his legs to look down at the cat who seemed to want to get on the bed “It looks like Gimli the Dweeb seems to like you” He took the cat and left it next to the girl who smiled at the sight of the cat.

“He’s really fat” she laughed

“Yeah he is” Eddie smiled as he scratched the head of the cat. “Now” he stood up softly and looked down at the girl “what do you want for breakfast tomorrow? We usually have some leftover waffles and if not I could make you some pancakes, how about that?”

Her eyes lit up at the thought and she just nodded quickly while biting her lip to stop herself from smiling. Something that Eddie copied realizing that the fact of seeing a girl so happy made him happy. He messed up her hair and left the room, leaving the door half an inch open just like Wayne used to do when he was a kid. 

As he was out of the room, he saw Steve sleeping soundly. Eddie woke him up and took him to bed. He changed his clothes and tucked him in, and then it was his turn. Once they were both on the bed, Steve curled up into Eddie bare chest, Eddie dared to speak.

“So” he started as he turned off the lamp “who the kid we are babysitting?”

Steve lets out a laughy breath through his nose

“Her name is Julia. I- i found her at school, apparently she was gonna spend the night there”

“What happened?” Eddie asked as he played with the boy’s hair “why did she get kicked out?”

“Um… she told me that she invited her best friend to sleep over and they kissed, her brother walked in and ratted her out to her dad. She didn’t say much after that, so i just guess he kicked her out and left her friend at her house”

“Wow… can’t believe 20 years later this shit still happens” Eddie sighs as shakes his head “the worst part is that its probably not gonna stop”

“I know” Steve started redrawing Eddie's chest tattoo of a bat. “I just didn’t expect it from his brother. He’s usually so nice and like… not homophobic” 

“Not everyone who looks like good people are good people” Eddie shrugs

“Mhm”

The room falls silent.

“Thank you for bringing her here” Eddie then says “I'm really thankful that she didn’t go through what I did. And you being there is like wayne being there for me, so really thank you”

Steve raised and kissed Eddie in the lips for the first time in the day. They mumble “I love you”’s as they snuggle till they both fall asleep and the Harrington Munson household goes quiet.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☪ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[ghulehthezombiequeen]

little sunshine. - the moon will sing

cardinal copia x sister of sin!reader part 2.

masterlist. / little sunshine masterlist.

a/n: Heya!! sorry this took a while, I've been traveling and celebrating my birthday! Hope you enjoy!

Warnings/things to note: pure fluff, fem reader, possible hints of autism in copia (i swear it's unintentional), slightly suggestive towards the end but otherwise it's just pure fluff, tbh just him being really shy and awkward but also romantic, he's just really in love with you

word count: 2,091 words

After dinner, you quickly went back to your room to change your shoes, opting out your black heels for your more worn-out black tennis shoes, along with a more comfortable pair of clothes that you didn't mind getting dirty. You went down to the dining hall and waited at the entrance, watching as the other Siblings of Sin leave. Finally, Copia was the last one out of the dining hall, in his usual black cassock. You honestly preferred the black one over the red one, it was easier on the eyes and made him less noticeable at night. Wait, wasn't he wearing his red one earlier? You couldn't remember.

Copia wandered around, looking for you. "Hey, Cardi." You called. The poor guy nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw you simply right next to him. "O-Oh! Sister! Sister, hi!" he sputtered out, a dumb smile on his face as he waved at you awkwardly. You couldn't help but chuckle, giving him a small wave in return.

You could tell he was nervous. He never really understood romance, and he was so happy he'd finally gotten the balls to ask you out, but at the same time he didn't want to do anything to upset you. It overwhelmed Copia, but at the same time, it was like he was a child at Christmas.

"So, shall we go? I heard from a few Earth ghouls that the moonlace flowers are in full bloom tonight." You carried on with the conversation, already turning your body to head to the back entrance.

Copia's smile grew at your words. "I-I'd love to come and see the moonlace flowers with you. Can I... I, uh... can I take your hand...? Please?" He looked at you nervously. He'd never asked to do something like that before, but he wanted to very badly. All he wanted was to be close to you. But he was terrified of rejection.

"My.. hand? Oh! Uh, sure, maybe when we get there!" You nodded, still not quite comfortable with physical touch from him yet. Sure, you'd pass by each other in the halls and when he came into the playroom to check on how the little ones were doing from time to time, but never in your life had you imagined him in that way. So instead, you decided to distract him by turning on your heel and starting off towards the gardens.

Copia followed you, he was silent for the most part. But when the two of you reached outside, he started to walk side by side with you. As he stared at your gorgeous features, he couldn't help but feel the feelings he felt wash over him. He had never felt this way about anyone before. He wanted to tell you how beautiful you were, even if you weren't in your habit you were still breathtaking in his eyes. Your smile, your laughter... he wanted to just take you in his arms and never let go until the end of time.

Eventually he cleared his throat and spoke. "Um... Sister.. you're really pretty, you know that?" he asked, trying to play the romantic game.

You chuckled, deciding to tease him again as a smirk grew on your lips. "Yes, in fact I do. You tell me every time you see me."

Copia looked out towards the lake, embarrassed. "S-Sorry.." he muttered, feeling his face grow hot. He took another deep breath before he spoke again. "Hey... Sister? Can I ask you a question that's.. it's, um.. not exactly romantic."

You were looking at the plants as the two of you walked, Copia's voice pulling you out of your thoughts. "Oh, sure." You nodded, continuing to stroll with him on the path in between the plants. He looked up and saw that the both of you were surrounded by numerous plants and flowers, the moon was high in the sky, the air was crisp and cool. It was perfect. He wanted to tell you about how your beauty radiated in the moonlight, but he chose to ask his question first.

"Be honest.... what do you think of me? I- I mean, really think of me?"

"What do I think of you? Hm..." you echoed, thinking hard. "Well, I think you're funny, caring, shy, sweet... and a little bit weird. But it's a good thing, we're all weird in our own way." You chuckled as you ran your hand across the petals in a flower bush as you continued to walk deeper into the garden.

Copia stopped briefly, looking up at the moon with a smile. "You think I'm weird?" he chuckled at that, you understood him better than Imperator did. It impressed him. "Hey, Sister.." he trailed off as he caught up with you, "Can... can I tell you how I really feel about you?" He spoke softly, looking towards you. He needed to tell you. The words were bubbling in his throat, threatening to boil over at any given moment.

You nodded. "Alright, it seems fair enough. What do you think of me?"

Copia took a deep breath, looking up at the stars. "Sorella- Sister.. The truth is, the real truth now, it I'm more than just 'weird' for you. I... I like you so very much. I have for a while now, you make me feel a way I've never felt before. You're so beautiful it hurts my heart to just look at you. I... I want to be your everything, and I've wanted to tell you that for so long."

His words made you pause for a moment, your hand stopping on a pink hibiscus petal. "Oh... that's nice." You mentally cursed yourself for actually saying that out loud, quickly covering your mouth with your hand as your face turned almost as pink as the hibiscus. "Oh, gosh.. I didn't mean to say that out loud, haha..." You tried to recover by chuckling, however it came out strained and uncomfortable. "What I meant to say was, I'm flattered you think of me that way. You're very poetic."

His heart dropped to his feet. You didn't give him an answer he was expecting. He thought you were rejecting him. He didn't realize you were about to say something as he was too dejected to continue. "Well, I... I best be off, the gardens do seem lovely, but I should be getting back to my room."

"Whoa, whoa, wait! I wasn't finished talking!" You grabbed his forearm just as he turned to leave. You looked deeply into his mismatched eyes, begging him to stay. Copia was surprised and very nervous. He tried to calm himself down, tried to speak, but he couldn't. Th emost he could get out was a stutter. "I... uh...w-what..? What did you, I... huh?"

You noticed his hands were shaking madly, and you understood immediately that he thought you were turning him down. You kept silent, instead moving your hand down from his forearm and into the palm of his hand, lacing your fingers in between his. "You said you wanted to hold my hand earlier, right?" You smiled, starting to lead him deeper into the garden so that no one at the Abbey could see or hear you two clearly.

When you were sure no one could, you spoke again. "Cardi, I'd love to be with you. But... y'know... I'm a Sister of Sin, and you're... a Cardinal. Rumors are bound to spread. Personally, I don't care about rumors if they're about me. But I'm just concerned if they're about you. Are you okay with that?"

"Y..Yes. I don't care if there's rumors, as long as I'm with you." he nodded, smiling at you. "I want to hold you, I want to kiss you, I want to devote everything to you. I don't care what anyone thinks."

This brought a wide smile to your face, and your blushing cheeks were more visible in the moonlight as you looked up at him, unknowingly making your face glow with a certain... aura. There wasn't a word to describe it that did it justice; beautiful was an understatement. You giggled- music to his ears- and gently squeezed his hand tighter with a playful smile. "Y'know, for someone who's very shy and has a constant stutter, you're actually really good with words. If I didn't know any better, I'd suspect you've been hanging around Papa Terzo a lot."

Copia's heart fluttered at your response, bringing a smile to his lips. "Aw, y-you know I don't mean to stutter." He was always so embarrassed when he did it, and it brought him so much shame. But you understood him. You chuckled again. "I know, I'm just messing with you. You're cute when you get all flustered like that." You loved to tease him; it was so easy, how could you resist?

Copia also chuckled at that. Damn, you were so cute. He couldn't wait any longer, hesitating for a second before speaking up.

"Sister, may I.. would it be alright if I kissed you?"

You were about to say yes, then you realized you forgot to brush your teeth after dinner. You slightly panicked, mumbling something in return before whipping around so your back faced him, digging in your pocket for a breath mind and chewing on it with intense speed. When you were finished, you whirled back around and faced him. "Um, you didn't see that."

He let out a laugh. "Oh, alright, I didn't see anything." he said in a playful tone, grabbing your hands and getting closer to you so that he could stare into your gorgeous eyes. His hand slid out of yours and rested comfortably on your hip. Your hand rested comfortably on his shoulder in return. When you noticed his hesitation, you tilted your head, a kittenish expression on your face. "So? What are you waiting for?"

Copia's heart beat out of his chest as if it were trying to escape his body. He got a teensy bit closer to you, his hands still on your hips. He took in a deep breath, muttering an "okay, okay. I got this." It took almost every fiber in your body to not giggle at him, but you found it extremely adorable. Finally, after what felt like forever, he leaned in with closed eyes and his lips met yours. It felt like they were meant to be together all along. He was finally happy.

And so were you! It didn't feel like lust or sexual urge, it was the comforting feeling of knowing that this was the right way to love. Of course, you naturally kissed back, feeling yourself smile as his little pencil mustache tickled your upper lip.

Copia sighed against you, his lips and tongue playing against your own. He held you tighter, his eyes still closed and embracing you. The kiss was electric, Copia couldn't think about the world around him. You were all that mattered, and your kiss was all that he needed. He felt like this was what he had been searching for for so long. He couldn't believe he'd finally found it, it was perfect.

When you finally pulled away, you were left breathless. Apparently so was Copia, whom you noticed had a hard time getting oxygen back into his lungs and coming down from his dopamine high. You tittered, putting the tips of your fingers to your mouth. "Was that your first kiss?"

Copia panted as he tried to catch his breath. His face was as red as a tomato, his legs shaking beneath him as he tried to find balance again after the incredible experience he had just gone through. He smiled as he exhaled, clearing his throat. "Um, y-yes, Sister. It was. This- this was all I've ever wanted."

You smiled cheekily. "You really do love me, huh?" you teased, now playing with a lock of his hair, brushing it away from his face. "Well, it's a good thing you're pretty." you pecked him on the cheek, giggling as you led him to the middle of the garden.

Copia smirked and blushed at your joke. "Oh, Sister, don't play with me. I love you, and you know that I think you're the most beautiful woman in the world. That smile is... it's even more than enough to make me fall in love with you."

As the two of you sat down on a bench, he put his head to yours and gazed at the flowers ahead. "You're perfect, you know that?"

You nodded, smirking. "Yeah. I'm aware."

~~~

previous chapter. | next chapter.

[leoncillo]

Oh god I thought my brain wanted a break. But I guess not? I just blacked out and this was in my notes when I came to idk y'all 🤷🏽‍♀️

SFW, GN reader (although I use "pretty"?), Black reader, Zohakuten best wingman

You notice the boys have been a bit listless so you decide to take them out. But individually. It must be tiring always being part of a group, right?

Sekido

Sekido jumps and nearly screams when the first thing he sees as he opens his eyes from his day time sleeping, is you straddling him, inches from his face.

"What the hell?! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!"

"Is that even possible?" you ask, pondering with your finger on your chin.

"What do you want, you nuisance?!"

"Get up! We're going on a date."

"Do you know how long it'll take those idiots to get ready? Why didn't you let me plan this ahead of time?" he grumbled.

"Oh they're not going. It'll be just me and you tonight" you said booping him on the nose.

His face heats up and his cheeks start to match his eyes.

"Hehe are you blus-ahh" you yelp as he grows flips you off of his legs.

"How rude!"

"Just...just go get ready yourself! We'll meet at the door in 20 minutes" he said as he marched off to the shower.

20 minutes later

You could feel all eyes on you as you walked down the stairs. You settled on dark distressed flared jeans and a modest white blouse with a cutout window with a black and white cross body bag and white tennis shoes. You decided to keep your makeup natural and to put your hair in a low ponytail to hang over your shoulder.

"You look so pretty!" shouted Urogi.

"You look lovely, dear" said Aizetsu softly.

"I might have to be jealous of Sekido for once" Karaku said, snickering.

You reached the bottom only to realize Sekido and Zohakuten were both missing.

"Wait where is he-"

"I heard that you green eyed son of a bitch!" said Sekido as you all heard him approaching the top of the stairs, only to get smacked upside the head by Zohakuten.

"Watch the language, goddamnit. You're going on a date!"

There was complete silence.

Everyone's jaw was on the floor as Sekido descended the stairs.

His hair was neatly combed and shiny, with a few strands out to frame his face. He wore a burgundy long sleeved turtleneck paired with some crisp black slacks and black loafers. A gold chain adorned his chest, a gold watch held his wrist, and a gold belt buckle around the front of his waist. Was he wearing earrings?!

"No way! I can't believe it! Hahaha" said Karaku, nearly falling off the couch.

"You look good, Sekido!" shouted Urogi.

"You clean up nice" said Aizetsu.

"All thanks to me. You're welcome, y/n" said Zohakuten.

"Y/n?"

You didn't realize you were still speechless until his well defined chest was right in front of you.

"Right. Y-You look amazing, Sekido" you said as you looked away from each other, both a blushing mess.

"Shall we go?" said Sekido as he held out his hand.

As you two walked to the car, you remembered that this was your idea, that you're in control, and mentally got your game face ready. You snatched the car keys out of his hand and motioned him to the passenger side.

"Aht aht. I'm driving. You don't even know where I planned to take you anyway."

Sekido grit his teeth, but nodded and listened. You knew he didn't like NOT being in control, so you kissed him on the cheek for playing along.

"Jesus can we just go?!" he said flustered.

After about 20 minutes of driving, you pulled up to a nondescript warehouse building on a side of town neither of you have been to before.

Even for a demon, Sekido felt a little weirded out as he looked at the building from top to bottom. "Are you gonna try to kill me or something?"

"What?! Nooo, silly. You'll see. Let's go!" you said grabbing his arm and leading him inside.

Inside there were several made up stations and soundproof rooms. A bored looking college student sat at the registration booth and looked up lazily at the two of you. "How long?"

You hummed to yourself in thought. "Two hours, please."

Sekido quickly glanced at you, still extremely confused. Was this some kinda love hotel or something? The thought made him start blushing again.

"Right this way."

The college student let you inside one of the rooms and pointed at the long aprons and face shields for you, before leaving you to it.

While you were suiting up, Sekido looked around the room at the mannequins and ceramic dishware and vases and the line of baseball bats hung on the wall.

"Y/n, what the hell is this?" he turned to ask only to see you launch a glass bowl at the wall. "What in god's name are you doing?!"

"It's called a rage room, honey" you said trying to pry the next bowl from his hands, "smashing stuff is the point!"

"I'm not completely following? Humans these days are so weird!"

You thought for a second, "Hey remember that one mission you were on when Urogi got too excited and blew all of the windows out of the building?"

CRASH

A plate went flying into the wall.

"I'm still paying the bill off for the damages!" he said growling and reaching for a vase.

"Now you're getting it! But hold back a teeny bit. You're still a demon, dude" you said, eyeing the dent in the wall.

"What are the fake humans for?" he said eyeing the mannequins.

You grabbed a bat off the wall. "Remember Douma at the last upper moon meeting?...or just him in general?"

The bat was out of your hands in seconds and smashing into the mannequins crotch.

"Yeah!" you said hyping him up and giggling at the growing grin on his face.

"Are you not gonna keep smashing?" he asked.

You usually solved your anger issues pretty easily, but you figured you could find something in this world to be mad at and shrugged.

You threw a mug into the air and hit it with a bat. "I hate parallel parking!"

Then, you sent a plate into a wall "I hate meetings that could be e-mails!"

Sekido's smile only grew wider at your display of anger as he continued his assault on the mannequins and you thought you heard a "Karaku" in his rambling somewhere.

"Ouch!" you stopped after a flyaway chip of ceramic somehow made it past your face shield and nicked your cheek.

Sekido dropped everything immediately and made his way over to you. "What? What happened?!"

"Eh. I'm guess I'm still klutzy enough to get hurt through a shield" you said going to touch the cut on your cheek.

"Don't touch it! Let me see." he said, as he held your face gently and looked you over before kissing the cut and turning away, "You'll be okay. Put some of that human ointment on so it doesn't leave a scar. Let's go home before you hurt anything else."

"Aww, Seki, you-"

"I said let's go home!" he said , storming out and hiding his face.

[toytanks]

jimbat fic.......... bc yaoi..........

can be read under cut or on ao3

The Bat had disappeared shortly before the lights came on, promising he’d be back soon, so Jim had waited in an alleyway near-enough-by to be easily found by the Bat but far enough that it was unlikely their captors would find them. He lit a cigarette shortly before the Bat had dropped behind him with a not-quite-familiar sound. When Jim turned ‘round he was faced not with the Bat, but with a seemingly normal person. 

It's almost funny. This is both the most and the least Jim’s ever seen of the Bat. He looks so painfully normal. 

“It’s me.” The Bat rasped.

His clothes aren’t different, it's just that Jim’s getting a good look at them now. They are all baggy and loose on the Bat’s frame, probably an intentional choice. He’s wearing plain grey cargo pants and tennis shoes, with  layered long-sleeve and shorts-sleeve gray and black tees. He has a black baseball cap with some sports team Jim doesn’t recognize on it, black cotton gloves, and a surgical mask around his nose and chin, the light morphing the pale blue into a murky grey. Sweaty black hair peeks out from behind the back of the cap. With no cowl, he sees clearly the black power smudged around the Bat’s eyes.

With his hunched posture, he looks no different than a common street thug.

Jim feels the Bat’s heavy gaze on him, as stifling as always. He coughs through his dry throat and hopes that his blush isn’t visible. “Coulda fooled me,” Jim grunted. “Where to next, Bat?”

“Rooftop. Need to survey the area.”

They climb the fire escape of a nearby apartment complex, the Bat helping the older man up. It was a nice night, not raining but still cloudy. His gaze trails unwittingly to the batsignal reflecting off the underside of distant storm clouds. He still remembers the day they installed the thing.

He’s distracted by the Bat grunting and shifting uncomfortably as he takes his perch on the roof-edge. 

“You okay? Are you hurt?” Jim asks as he tentatively walks closer to the Bat, prepared to have to dress any injuries.

“No.” He grunts, “Just- Just feels wrong without the cape.”

“Oh.” Jim stops mid step, concern evaporated. He feels more relieved than he thinks he should.

The Bat takes a breath. “...Can I tell you something? Don’t laugh.”

Jim furrows his brow. It’s not common that the Bat is willing to share information about himself, let alone the type to be followed by “don’t laugh.”

“...Sure.” 

His voice is a shade or two higher than normal, and Jim can tell why by the grin in his voice. Can’t talk low and smile at the same time. “I’ve...started thinking of my cape as my wings. Feels wrong to go too long without them. Taken to wearing long coats to compensate.”

Jim snorts, and he half expects  to be called out on it. “You’re talkative today.”

The Bat freezes. “...The persona is slipping. Happens sometimes. I become the Bat in my off time and then can’t focus when I’m out on the streets.”

“You’re telling me that sometimes you get all dark and silent and broody at like...the dinner table?”

He snorts. “Pretty much, yeah.”

Jim’s chest feels warm at the admission, and slightly dizzy at the fact that the Bat, of all people, told him this. Trusted him with this. A jealous, vindictive voice in the back of his head hisses that the Bat only told him because he wasn’t really himself right now. Jim doesn’t listen to it.

He coughs. “When you smile, you sound kinda like Bruce Wayne, you know.”

He’s grinning. “I get that a lot.”

But then he turns his focus back to the city, figuring out the best routes and possible dangers and planning for things Jim can’t even think of. Even now, with this rare shard of humanity, it's hard not to hold some reverence and awe for the Bat. His heart flutters when he beckons Jim closer. 

From then it’s all business, deducting the who, when, where, and why. The Bat has a couple theories, but so does Jim. They talk a while, debating, but eventually decide that ultimately, it's too early to tell. The Bat turns to leave.

“...Will I ever see you again, Mr. Not-Batman?”

“Maybe,” The Bat laughs softly. Jim never wants to forget what it sounds like. He wants to see the grin splitting his lips. He wants to know what it would be like to have the Bat’s lips on his own. His body twitches with the urge to move forward, press himself against Gotham’s loyal protector, and kiss him with more force and passion than he thinks he’s ever kissed anyone.

But then the Bat is gone, melded not into the shadows for once, but the thin midnight crowd. Jim’s heart aches in his absence.

[starchildren220]

Labour VIII

꧁ ꧂

Labour Masterlist

Masterlist

꧁ ꧂

Finally, Atara had a turn with training. She was outside close to where Eriks training was, but it had a few benches and a tree canopy.

“So, what’re we gonna be doing?” Atara asked Charles.

“Well, I don’t know what I’m dealing with. So, tell me, how does *your* mutation work.” Charles words were full of intrigue.

“Basically-” Atara started before being interrupted.

“I don’t wanna hear the basics I wanna hear everything about your mutation.” Charles clarified his statement.

“Ok?” Atara was confused to why he was so interested. “Well, when my body is injured, it pulls itself back together. Like if you tore off my arm it wouldn’t just grow back, my arm would come back.” Charles was nodding along, seemingly hypnotized.

“Is there like a distance that it won’t come back?” Charles questioned.

“No, but most of the time my blood doesn’t come back, my blood replenishes much faster than a normal human, so I bleed a lot faster, and a lot more but it never runs out. If you were to try and trap a piece of me in like a jar or something, it kinda just vanished through the object and comes back to me. It's really weird."

"There isn't really a way to train that, especially since I don't want to hurt you so I think we can just stick to combat and stuff." Charles told Atara who looked slightly shocked.

"I have other mutations." She reinformed him.

"I know that, but, you said that it hurts to use them, again I don't want to hurt you." Charles smiled sweetly at her. She felt sickly feeling, like she was gonna throw up. But the feeling also kind of felt nice, no one but Riptide had really been nice to her.

“So what types of combat?” Atara inquired.

“Well just basic hand to hand, you know. Though we’ll have to find someone who can, I can’t do much of that stuff.” He chuckled scratching the back of his neck.

“Sounds good just get me when you’ve found someone.” With that Atara left the bench and headed back to the house. Charles watched her walk away, he still couldn’t believe how someone could be so perfect.

꧁ ꧂

Turns out Erik was the only one who knew anything about actual fighting. Sean tried to convince Charles that he knew cause of the amount of action movies he watched would suffice for training.

Everybody had ended up gathered around the makeshift area in the grassy lawn. Atara had changed into black shorts, a black tank top, and some tennis shoes Raven had let her borrow.

Erik had the same grey sweat pants he was wearing earlier but decided to take off the jacket to reveal a white tank.

Atara wasn’t too excited to be fighting her little brother but she did have to train at least a little bit. Charles had gone over a few basic rules, no bone breaking, obviously no fatal wounds even if Atara could heal herself, and try not to knock the person out.

Charles had decided to be referee to make sure these rules were followed, though he also didn’t think they would break the rules. Alex, Sean, Hank, and Raven had made bets to see who would win. Hank, and Alex had bet against Erik, thinking Atara would win. Sean and Raven bet against Atara thinking Erik would win. Each person bet ten dollars and winners would split the winnings.

“Get ready.” Charles called out to the two fighters. Atara had decided to start with defense rather than using on her offense. “Get set.” Charles words had cast a stillness over everybody watching. Atara and Erik started in a classic fighting position.

“Go!” Charles announced. Erik was the one who threw the first punch, she dodged and waiting for Erik’s next attack. He goes for a forward kick, Atara went to block before Erik’s leg switched angles and he changed to a side kick, the blow lands on the side of her upper arm, the blow caused her to grunt. Charles stiffened in worry, and he moved a step closer.

Atara threw another punch, Erik dodged and countered. She dodged by dropping down, kicking Erik’s legs out from under him. He grunted as the wind was taken from his lungs. Atara to this time to pin him down by putting her foot against his throat.

Erik tried to push her foot off, squirming and pushing his feet into the ground to try and help. Atara pushed further before Charles interrupted.

“That’s enough now!” He called out and Atara moved her foot off and leaned down offering her hand to Erik. He used her hand to help him. She pulled him into a hug, she pulled back at looked him in the eyes.

“You okay?” She asked, he nodded and pulled out of her arms. Charles walked up to her.

“That was amazing darling.” He complemented, she noticed the pet name and the feeling in her stomach came back.

“Darling?” She asked raising her brow. Charles blushed.

“Oh! I apologize, it just slipped out.” He tried to cover up his slip up.

“I don’t mind.” She told him and he smiled, trying to make his blush go away.

“I think it best if you teach self defense lessons, it could help greatly in the fight.” Charles offered changing the subject.

“I’m not against the idea.” Atara thought about the option before shrugging. “Sure I’ll do it.”

“Excellent.” Charles smiled while clasping his hands together, “We’ll start training tomorrow.” Atara nodded, a small smile appearing on her face at Charles enthusiasm.

꧁ ꧂

The next day started early, Atara started with Hank at 7. Hank was a fast learner, he had the basics down in an half an hour and was able to keep up with her going easy on him.

The next hour was Sean, he was definitely interesting. It took him the hour to learn how to punch right.

Next was Alex, he seemed to have more street fighting abilities, she just helped him clean up his weak spots.

Raven was next, she had started off in her ‘human’ form, eventually Atara convinced her to use her blue form and she became quite a lot stronger and quicker. The lesson ended a half hour later than it was supposed to because of Raven and Atara chatting at the end.

Atara took a lunch break before starting up again at one with Erik, his session lasted the longest, about three hours. It took this long because it was the first to win five rounds, Atara had ended up winning but it had been close.

She took a nap due to her tiredness from the full day of teaching. Then dinner started, ending at seven. At seven thirty Atara started training with Charles.

“So what do you know?” She asked, crossing her arms, dressed in a tank and some shorts.

“Almost nothing.” Charles admitted, “But i could easily find out.” He motioned his two fingers to his head. Atara chuckled before gently stopping his hand from reaching his temple.

“No need, you’re gonna learn the old fashion way. First lesson, how to throw a punch.” She set her stance in front of the bag, throwing a punch she stopped when her hand hit the bag, she pointed at her thumb, instructing him.

“You wanna make sure to have your thumb over your fingers, putting your fingers over your thumb will cause you to break your thumb.” She moved back from the bag, pointing to her hips. “Make sure to move your body with the punch, that’s where the power comes from, obviously to make it to where you fall but still a good bit.” Charles was nodding along as you spoke to him.

“And make sure you punch through the thing you’re punching, not just the thing. I’ll demonstrate both.” She punched the bag, it stopped as soon as contact was made and it seemed to do nothing to the bag. “That was just punching the object now i’ll show you punching through the object.” Her punch this time was powerful and made the bag swing back pretty far, coming back fast she caught it before turning to him. “You understand?”

“I think so.” He seemed skeptical on his ability to demonstrate his comprehension.

“Well come on then.” Atara moved from in front of the bag letting him take her spot. “Don’t throw a punch yet, get in your stance.” He nodded before stepping into a stance similar to her own. She critiqued his pose before nodding for him to continue.

He threw his first punch, it was good but he didn’t follow through. “Push through the bag.” She suggested, he went back to his stance and tried again, this time it was close to perfect. “Nice.” She complemented, “Now do it again.”

This repeated for a while, she eventually taught him how to uppercut and hooks, then kicks. She didn’t even realized how late it got, nine o’clock.

“Since you know the basics, I’ll test you.” She walked over to the ring. Charles didn’t move and she stop while stepping through the rope. “You coming?” He seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in and started walking to the ring.

“I’ll go easy on you, promise. Just try to use what you know.” She smiled setting herself into her stance.

“Doesn’t make me feel any better darling.” He smiled nervously, shakily getting into his own stance.

“You’ll be great, just trust yourself.” Atara tried to ease his nerves. “You ready?.” She asked.

“Not particularly.” Charles answered. She chuckled.

“Go!” She started the match, she waited for him to throw the first punch, he did eventually and she dodged it. “Anticipate where your opponent will go and make sure you have a second shot ready.”

“It’s a lot harder than you say.” Charles shot back frustrated.

“Don’t be like that already you’ve only thrown one punch.” She teased. He rolled his eyes and threw another punch, she dodged amit again but had to block the kick he almost landed on her side.

“Good job, you did it.” She praised. “Though I better fight back shouldn’t I?” She chuckled, getting slightly more serious. She threw a light punch that hit his side, making him move that way slightly. He went for a right hook and she ducked using his moment of unbalance to sweep his legs, causing him to fall onto his back.

He landed with a grunt and she straddled him to keep him down, pinning his arms above his head . “Do you think you know how to get out of your situation?” She asked grin wide, Charles was panting under her.

“Don’t know if I want to.” He smirked watching her cheeks turn a light rosy pink. She stayed stuck like that, her eyes boring into his, she leaned forward and kissed him. Immediately she pull back and stood up, his head followed her as to not break the kiss.

“I shouldn’t have done that.” She stressed.

“It’s fine if didn’t not want it.” He chuckled his own cheeks a rosy color.

“Oh god.” She complained before practically running out of the room.

“Wait!” Charles called out for her but she didn’t stop. He stood there for a few minutes just trying to process what just happened, before his heart started to hurt at her reaction, did she not like him?

꧁ ꧂

1918 words

[multiverse-imagines]

@paprikamaustepurkki asked for something fluffy from the reverse Isekai au in an earlier ask!

Technically not completely fluffy, it's more… Wolfwood pining, and before Wolfwood entered the relationship. Enjoy anyway!

Rain

April, year 3.

"Oh, looks like it's gonna rain tomorrow." You gave a non-committal comment, not looking up from your phone

"You mentioned that before. Is that dangerous?" Nicholas asked, worry lining his voice

"Not this time, at least. There's plain old rain, which is just basic rainfall, there's thunderstorms that are harsh rain, with thunder and lightning, and there's tropical storms, when the storm gains power from the winds and water of the ocean, and hurricanes or typhoons, which can decimate entire cities."

"Ah, like Vash being The Humanoid Typhoon." Wolfy nodded.

"Yeah. Typhoons happen in the Pacific ocean and rotate counter-clockwise, and hurricanes are in the Atlantic and spin the opposite way." You whirled a finger around as an example.

"That's scary. Do you have those here?"

"No, just thunderstorms. We occasionally get hurricanes that come far inward, but they just end up being really bad thunderstorms. It's still kinda scary though." You shrugged. Wolfwood had become quite curious about the Earth's weather. It was stranger than anything he'd seen on Gunsmoke. Water, just falling from the sky, freezing and turning into snow, the air generating electricity… it was all so crazy to him.

-

The rain fell hard on the roof of the cabin. It being his first rain, Nicholas watched the rain fall onto the balcony from the living room. You took a look out onto the back balcony.

"You should probably smoke out front today, Wolfy. It's blowing from the east." You recommended.

"N-nah, I'm Good. I don't wanna go out there." Wolfwood shook his head, the nagging of his addiction desiring otherwise.

"Not at all? It's just like a cold shower out there, there's nothing to be afraid of." You frowned.

"Just don't wanna do it." Wolfwood shook his head,

You shrugged, and made her way upstairs. A few minutes later, you came down the stairs wearing a pair of shorts, a T-Shirt, and pulled on a pair of boots.

"Vash! Ready to go play?"

"Fuck yeah!" He cheered coming from his room in similar attire, left arm missing.

"What are you two doing?"

"We're gonna go play in the rain. You can always join us if you want. It's not gonna hurt you." You smiled as you opened the door, leading you and Vash to exit. The two of them carefully made their way down the stairs before hopping around in the puddles outside, the water splashing into their legs. They ran around, giggling, kicking around a kickball, caking it in mud. Vash kicked the ball and it shot into the grove of trees that lined the property.

"Ah, I'll get it!" He cheerily approached you, intending to pass in order to retrieve the ball.

"Hey, hold on a minute." You grabbed his arm as he passed. He gave a questioning look, but smiled in realization. He pulled you close, giving a gentle caress of your face. You pulled Vash in for a sweet tender kiss, the rain picking up its pelting, as if to emphasize your intimate affection.

Wolfwood had been watching from the balcony, watching the sweet moment. A pang of… jealousy? Entered his heart. But for who? Did he wish that was him and Milly? Did he wish to be corralled in the embrace of Needle Noggin's arm? Or did he wish to be holding you so tenderly? Was it all of these things? Rainy days confused him, he decided.

"Wolfy! Come join us!!!" You called, noticing him on the balcony. Wolfwood sighed, giving a thumbs up before retreating inside. While you and Vash returned to playing with the kickball after it was retrieved, Nicholas stepped out from the basement entrance in a pair of basketball shorts, his tennis shoes, and a black t-shirt. He took a deep breath before stepping into the rain.

Cold. This was really damn cold. Like pin pricks to his shoulders, his body quickly became soggy. He made his way to his two housemates, the mud squelching under his shoes.

"I think I made a mistake coming out here." He frowned, not enjoying the cold.

"Just give it a minute, Wolfwood! Ya get used to the cold!" Vash smiled. They returned to kicking the ball around, allowing Wolfwood to join in. On one pass, he kicked the ball, slipping in the mud, and falling onto his ass. After shaking off his shock, he began to laugh with you and Vash who had already been laughing. The two of you held out your hands to bring Wolfwood out of the mud, only for him to pull them down into the mud with him, a snarky smile on his face. You and Vash squeaked at being pulled down, and continued to laugh. Giving in to being dirty, you took a handful of mud, pressing it to Wolfy's face. His dumbfounded face was enough to make Vash laugh like a tea kettle. Wolfwood, regaining his senses, pressed his muddy hand into your face as well before doing the same to Vash.

"Fuckin' assholes!" Wolfwood laughed. Turning to push Vash back into the mud, you soon followed behind, making a dog pile in the mud. The three of you laughed together, the rain beginning to lighten up. Soon the clouds parted, allowing a few beams of light to shine through. The three of you all took in this moment, muddy, laughing and enjoying the moment, the kickball unloved and forgotten in the grove for the time being.

Clambering back inside, Wolfwood used Vash's shower, while you and Vash made your way to the master bath. Wolfwood couldn't help but hear the delicious noises coming from the bathroom as the two claimed to be cleaning up. He felt… lonely in this shower. Not that he'd ever showered with someone before, but.. hearing the two of you have… a little more than fun, made him wish he could join you two… he felt this feeling before… wanting to… spend his tomorrows… with them…. He'd thought that before… but… when?

He nodded again at the notion of rainy days bringing nothing but confusion. He left the shower, and joined you and Vash, who were cuddled up on the couch, somehow finishing their "shower" before him.

"You two are noisy. And I thought you were a quiet book worm, my liege." Nicholas teased the two of you, sitting on the couch with them. Vash gave a light chuckle as you buried your face into Vash's chest, embarrassed.