#everyone is so creative and I just wanna say keep doing what you’re doing
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Hope everybody has a fazerific new year!
#fablespeaks#all of you#moots or no#we have such a cool fandom#so many of us love different things about the DCA and I love that tbh#everyone is so creative and I just wanna say keep doing what you’re doing#because you’re doing great#also to everyone I know who’s in a different fandom now rock on#you’re awesome too#and thanks for getting me into things I probably never would have gotten round to checking out myself#<3
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Request: smooth as butter Steve flirting with Eddie while the CC boys watch in shock as their ruthless Eddie turns red(?) and gets all blushy bc he doesn't know how to deal with this STEVE???? making it better:it happens during DND the one time Eddie gets Steve to play & the entire time Steve's human bard character flirting hardcore with Eddie via his NPC's (the kids aren't involved in this one just Steddie & Corroded Coffin boys)
MY LOVEEEEEEE!!!! Okay I have never played. I know. Hush, I know. My best friend wants me to so bad she bought me dice. And like, I probably will, but like Steve, my brain is trying to not only deal with math, but also just how involved it all is. I like games that take about half a brain cell. I'm also super bad at the flirting thing, in real life and when writing. I just cannot do it my friends. But I did my best here and I hope it isn't the worst😂 - Mickala ❤️
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He was doing this for Dustin.
He made a character sheet with Lucas, went over the basics, learned that maybe the math part wouldn’t be so bad.
And then he convinced Eddie to let him do a one shot with the Corroded Coffin guys so he could get a feel for it all without Dustin knowing.
He didn’t get that creative with his character according to Lucas, but he was also supportive and understanding that Steve wasn’t doing this as a regular thing.
Eddie explained to the guys that they needed to be patient, that Steve was genuinely trying to learn.
“Everyone was new once, so I don’t wanna hear anything from any of you about how annoying it is to have to take it so slow and explain everything. He’s trying to do a nice thing for Henderson and we’re going to be nice.”
Everyone groaned, but nodded in agreement.
“Are we talking about your crush on him yet, or is that still off the table?” Gareth had the gall to ask.
“There’s no crush to even have on the table,” Eddie said.
“Sure, dude.”
—--------------
Things were not going well.
Well, okay, they weren’t going bad.
It’s just that Lucas apparently explained to Steve that being in character was very important and Steve failed to mention that his character’s charisma was the highest possible option.
He shouldn’t be surprised by that.
Maybe he’s just surprised with all the blatant flirting.
The guys keep shooting him looks like they know that he’s struggling, that they can see that he is barely able to hold onto the power the DM usually has.
“The guard stops you, but he recognizes you. ‘You’re the one who stole the sword!’ he yells, catching the attention of the other guards. You panic because your party is still hiding in the bush with strict instructions not to be seen unless they draw their weapons on you. How will you respond?”
Steve smirked.
Not good. Run away. Get out, Munson, you’re fucked.
But he couldn’t leave.
He was the DM, and they were barely halfway done with what he had planned.
He had to see this through and he had to give Steve the best possible introduction to this game.
It was for Dustin.
“I’d probably have to insist that it wasn’t me he saw, but that I sure wish I’d seen him before. Maybe wink at him,” Steve said. “Actually, definitely wink at him.”
Steve looked at everyone else, smile silently asking for approval.
Everyone smirked at Eddie before giving him a thumbs up.
Traitors.
He’d be saying something later for sure.
“The guard is still suspicious, but waves the other guards off. He looks you over, circles you, decides to take your only weapon.”
“Not my only weapon. I still have plenty of time to distract him.”
Eddie squints at him, just as suspicious as the guard in their game.
“Roll for-”
“Persuasion, right?” Steve interrupted.
“Sure. Roll for persuasion, Stevie,” Eddie pretended not to be flustered at Steve remembering aspects of the game.
“18!” Steve yelled. “Plus the 13. So that’s…” he held his hand up while he thought about it. “31!”
Everyone at the table cheered except for Eddie.
He knew what was coming.
“I offer to let the guard check me for weapons in private if he’s still suspicious. I tell him it’s better to take all my clothes off where he can do something about it.”
Eddie hated what was happening.
He hated that he could feel how red his face was, and how much Steve was thriving off of putting Eddie off of his own game.
He hated the way the guys were all watching, literally holding their breath for Eddie’s reaction.
“The guard decides to lead you past the gate, but instead of taking you to the entrance to the castle, he leads you down a side road. It leads to a small cottage, and you start to worry that your party won’t find you.”
Steve doesn’t even hesitate.
“I let him lead me where he wants. I can take it.”
Eddie is going to die. Right here.
Steve knows what he’s doing, what he’s saying.
He knows what he is doing to Eddie.
And, okay, maybe they haven’t talked about it, maybe they’ve both been avoiding the very obvious tension between them for months. Maybe Eddie could have taken a chance any of the times they’ve been alone lately to finally talk about it.
Or maybe Steve would just keep flirting with him through this stupid game until Eddie couldn’t even do what he needed to do.
And everyone around them would just get to watch it unfold.
Jeff, his only friend at the moment, cleared his throat and decided to speak up.
“I think the rest of the party should follow. Just in case he needs backup. Guys?”
Thank God for Jeff.
It continues, the rest of the party finds a way to get past the guards, and Eddie admits to himself that he’s making it easier on purpose.
He wants, no, needs this game to end.
And he gets his wish ten minutes later when the phone rings and it’s Dustin, begging for a ride.
Eddie ignores the fact that he called his trailer knowing Steve would be here already, but the rest of the group doesn’t.
While Steve is on the phone, they all quietly tease Eddie.
“If I knew Steve would fluster you this much, I think we would have invited him a long time ago,” Grant said.
“Yeah, we probably would’ve had much easier campaigns if he joined in high school,” Gareth added.
“Yeah? Next time you all get to die, how about that? Terrible, bloody deaths. Gareth gets tortured.”
Before any of them could answer, Steve came into the room, looking a bit sad.
“Sorry about this guys. I couldn’t really come up with a reason that I couldn’t go without giving it away what I was doing. We could pause and come back to it later?”
Eddie knew the guys would be fine with just calling it here; They’d managed to get far enough along that they knew it would have been a good win for them.
“Nah, you did good. Maybe you can join us for real after Dustin’s birthday campaign,” Jeff said.
Steve beamed back at him.
“Maybe, yeah. If you guys are cool with it.”
Was he…shy?
He was just flirting up a storm! Absolutely taking the lead in a game he’d never played before! And now he was being shy?
“Hell yeah!” They all agreed.
Great, Steve was making friends with his friends.
“Alright!” Steve clapped his hands together. “I’m off to get the kid. Thanks guys!”
He started to leave, but stopped by Eddie.
Then his lips were on the top of Eddie’s head.
“Bye guys!” He said as he continued to walk out.
Eddie’s eyes were wide, unblinking. The guys were all staring at him with the same wide, unblinking eyes.
The front door to the trailer closed.
“Uh,” Eddie said.
“Did he-”
“He just-”
“On your head.”
“Uh.”
The front door opened.
Steve was standing in the doorway to the kitchen area, eyes wide, unblinking.
“Did I-”
“Uh huh,” Eddie answered.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Is that…okay?”
He was looking nervously between the guys and Eddie, like he expected someone to punch him.
“Oh! Yeah. No, they’re good. Um. Did you want to kiss me?”
“Yeah. I kinda…always do?”
“Always?”
“Yes. It’s kind of all I think about.”
Eddie took it all back; This was the best and he had never been happier that Steve wanted to play D&D.
He didn’t even care about the guys watching as he stood from his chair and walked to Steve in the doorway.
“Me too.”
He pulled Steve against him, ignoring the whistles and cheers from the table, and kissed him.
The kiss left them both breathless, despite being barely more than a peck.
“Um, I should go get Dustin,” Steve whispered.
“Yeah. Come back after?”
“Will everyone still be here?” Steve asked nervously.
“Nope, just you and me, sweetheart,” Eddie replied.
“Good. I’ll be back soon, then.”
When Steve left, Eddie turned back to the group, lovestruck grin on his face.
“So it’s off the table now, right?” Gareth asked, smirking.
“Shut up.”
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Hobie with a friend or s/o that feels safe drawing and practicing instruments (just overall being creative) around him 🥺?
Thank u op for feeding us so we’ll with all the hobie content btw !!!! MWAH ❤️❤️
THE CREATIVE MIND !
— hobie brown x creative!gn!reader
— fluff, creative reader, pet-names, hobie being a menace, hcs and then a blurb for artist reader at the end
— hobie and his encouragement with his s/o, who loves expressing their creativity with him
— SO SORRY FOR HOW LONG THIS TOOK but here it is anon muwah
— Hobie first noticed how much you kept to yourself
— Of course you talked with people around you, but you weren’t very open about what you liked to do
— He loved playing his guitar, Gwen loved playing the drums, Miles loved drawing and sketching, but what did you enjoy?
— Turns out it was a combination of all those things
— When Hobie starts to get closer to you, he notices the little things that you don’t hide around him anymore
— Splatters of paint, marker markings, blistered fingers, all signs of the creativity you hold behind closed doors
— Just as friends, Hobie may ask about what you do, but will never push if you don’t want to say
— He’ll lead into some conversations about it if you do
— Loves listening to you talk and talk about what you do once you get comfortable around him
— Then his friends try to beg to know what you do, what’s the secret hobby you hold so dear?
— And to that he keeps quiet
— Because he loves the fact that you trust him so much to let him know about how well you can do what you do
— If the two of you are dating, god he’s your biggest supporter
— He loves motivating people to go against their limits and rules to achieve their greatness, and he does the same with you
— Every-time you show him a new project, he praises it like the Mona Lisa
— “‘s amazin’, swee’heart. got myself such a talen’ed par’ner.”
— “Belongs on display, ‘s for sure.”
— if you’re an artist, he commissions you all the time
— Stickers for his guitar, art on his walls, even doodles on his hands
— He wants to proudly sport your work wherever he can
— If you play an instrument, he’ll constantly ask to practice and play with you
— Even if you play something like the trumpet, he’ll find a way to jam out with you
— It means a lot to him to share music with who he loves
— If you are a writer, he’ll always ask to see what you’re typing up
— Hobie’s everyone’s biggest supporter, and that’s never an exception for you
— He adores everything you create, no exceptions
Your legs dangled off the edge of the couch as you take your pencil to your sketchbook. On the opposite chair, Hobie was strumming guitar, scribbling and marking his music. It was like a peaceful creative time you shared.
You take a peak up at your boyfriend before looking back down, sketching the features of his nose onto your paper. For the past hour you had been sketching him, multiple poses of him lying there, with his guitar, and him just smiling (which was a closed smirk but better than nothing). You were finishing a sketch of him messing with his guitar, drawing up his hair and piercings.
“Mm..” Hobie sighs before making that focused face he does, bringing out the crease on his forehead.
You smile and draw that out onto the sketch, enjoying how blissfully unaware Hobie seemed. You had numerous sketches of him, but he didn’t need to know.
As you stare down and take glances up, Hobie finishes with the current song he was messing with. He looks over at you, noticing how focused you seemed on your sketch. It was mesmerizing watching you work so passionately.
Quietly, he got up, sneaking over to your seat on the couch. He wraps his arms around you, peaking over your shoulder. “Whatcha workin’ on?”
You slam the book shut. “Nothing!”
“Oh? But I wanna see..” Hobie responds, reaching to grab your sketchbook.
“No no! It’s nothing!”
You shoot up to run to your shared bedroom, holding the book away from Hobie. He chases after you and shoots a web to grab the book. As much as you try to pull it back, he ultimately wins, taking the sketchbook in his hands.
“Le’s see..” He speaks, turning to the page you were working on. “Oh.”
You groan, throwing your head into a pillow. “Hobie..”
He’s quiet for a while, admiring your work. You make him look so.. incredible. All the pencil strokes bring out a different feature of him, and he’s never thought he looked this great.
"These are incred'ble, swee'heart." He says after a while, glancing up at you. “C’mon, don’ be shy. ‘s good stuff.” He assures you as he takes a seat next to you.
You snatch the book from Hobie, swatting him with it. “Ever heard of privacy?!”
“Mm.. ‘s good t’ know ‘s how ya see me.”
“Well.. it’s not even done.” You say with a sigh. Then, you get an idea. “Wait! I’ve got an idea.”
Hobie’s eyes raise. “Hmm?”
You turn back to open the page you were working on, grabbing a pencil and a red marker from the nightstand next to your bed. You look up at Hobie before looking back down, sketching something.
“Just stay still..” You request, sketching out some new features you can now notice from up close. “I wanna finish..”
Hobie chuckles, crossing a knee over his leg. “Mm.. ‘right, ‘ll be ‘ur muse.”
In turn, you give a smile, gently kissing his cheek before continuing to work on his profile. You sketch every little crease, freckle, blister he has on his face. Any scar or bruise he has from his hero ventures, you include. You start to get lost in your book as time moves on.
Your boyfriend just sits there, admiring the way you look so focused. He’s grateful you feel comfortable around him, to where you can allow yourself to indulge in your creativity. He loves how people express themselves, you especially.
When you start adding some colour, you see Hobie scoot next to you. “So talen’ed, ya know that?”
You smile gently, leaning into his shoulder. “I appreciate that, Hobie.” You respond as you continue putting in some highlights.
Once it’s done, Hobie sits back and praises your work like there’s no tomorrow. Many compliments, pet-names, and red blushing messes later, he’s pulling your leg to convince you to let him take them, hang them up.
Once you do agree, he also asks you to make him some stickers for his guitar. “Need some good stuff f’ my gui’ar. Make it flashy t’ fight facis’s.”
Once you do make them, trust, he’s going to brag to everyone he knows and is friends with who made the beautiful artwork displayed on his guitar.
#NEW ARTICLE || OUT NOW !!#hobie brown x reader#hobie x reader#hobie brown#across the spiderverse#spider man: across the spider verse#atsv x reader#atsv#atsv hobie
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Racketeer
Pairing: Chris Sturniolo X Female Reader
Synopsis: Y/N hates that Chris packs heat when they go out, but what happens one night when he may need it?🗣️
Warnings⚠️: Chris has that pewpew on him. This is pure self indulgence for my friend and I. I was thinking about the podcast where Chris said if he didn’t have Nick or Matt he’d def be drinking and smoking and doing bad shit. So I made Chris a “hoodrat”. I’m from NY, so we always say hoodrat. If you’re offended uhhh my bad?? Idk this is normal slang for me
Song for the imagine: Sweetheart- Pop Smoke feat. Fivio Foreign
You see my face, you better move
Bullets flyin’ through the room
They want static, I’m in the mood
To say Chris was always ready for whatever would be an understatement. Chris was always packing heat, and to be honest I hated it.
He always told me it was for protection in case anyone got funny around him or me, but I never liked the idea of my man potentially hurting someone.
I adored him for wanting to protect me, but also that put a target on my back. Especially since everyone in Boston knew Chris and I. And they especially knew the crew Chris ran with.
I always brought this up to him, and he would go back to saying that, that was the reason he carried at all costs. When I met Chris we were in high school, and he was always hanging with the wrong crowd, but he never had enemies. I fell in love with him for who he was when he wasn’t around his hooligan friends, but when we left high school, and I realized this was his lifestyle I just came to terms with it
“Chris I don’t think you should have that on you” I told him as we were getting ready to go out to a club
“Nah. Just in case someone wanna breathe loud near my woman. Ima boom his face off” he said
“Sweet of you to want to protect me, but can’t you just fist fight” I told him
“Baby, the life I live they don’t play fair. I gotta carry” he said shrugging his shoulders
“Man I really wish you’d stop hanging around those asshole” I said back
“Come onnn don’t speak like that” he said kissing me
“I’m serious Christopher. You should really have gone to school, or do something with your creativity so you wouldn’t be having to have a strap on you wherever we go” I said scolding him
“Listen mama, I promise I’m going to get us out of this lifestyle” he said hugging me from behind
“Okay Christopher” I said rolling my eyes at him
Chris and I had gone to a small club downtown that his friends were raving about. We hadn’t been to a club in a while, and we really wanted to go out and have some fun
We got to the club and got a table, and ordered some drinks. We were all chilling and laughing here and there. Chris and I had danced to a few songs
I was at the bar closing the tab, and handing over Chris’ card to the bartender, when a guy came over and tried to speak to me
“How are you tonight?” He asked
“I’m fine” I said not even looking at him
“What’s wrong pretty lady?” He asked trying to touch me
“Back off! I have a man” I said rudely and backed away
“Chill lil mama. It was never that serious” he said walking off
I had paid the bill, and walked over to Chris
“What was that about?” He asked looking at me with concern
“Some fucking weirdo tryna talk to me, but I told him I had a man, and he ran off” I told Chris
As we were getting ready to leave the same man walked by me
“There’s that pretty lady again” he said smiling at me
“Yo fuck outta here!” Chris said to the guy putting his hand up to keep us separated
He just looked at Chris and walked off not thinking much of it
We were all outside chatting while Chris friends waited for their rides, and that same man came around again
“I think it’s fate the way we keep bumping into each other” he said trying to grab my right arm, but I moved slightly
“Yo! Beat it you fucking weirdo” Chris said a little more upset
“Who the fuck are you?” The guy said
Chris pulled me a little towards him so I would be out of the way of the man’s view
Chris lifted his shirt, flashing the pistol sitting in the waistband of his jeans
“I’m her boyfriend, so like I said, get the fuck outta here” Chris said ready to pop the guy
“Yo man! I ain’t even mean anything I swear” the guy said getting scared
“Yeah. Keep it pushing before I pistol whip you” he said watching the guy walk away, and pulling me in closer
“The fuck that guy thought he was” Chris said looking over his shoulder watching the guy walk down the street
“Come on baby. Don’t worry about him” I said pulling Chris to look at me
“This is why I carry my gun because any mother fucker will try me” he said rolling his eyes
“I’m grateful baby. That you were here to protect me” I said giving him a kiss
“Always baby. I’ll fuck anybody up for you. I love you” he said kissing me back
After his friends got in their rides, we both headed back home. I guess I didn’t mind Chris carrying now since he did protect me.
The End
This was pure self indulgence, so I hope yall enjoyed this as much as I did making this little short story 😋🤞🏽
-J💅🏽
#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo triplets imagines#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo imagine#Spotify
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hiii i just wanna say thank you so much to everyone on this list and those following me because in some way you’ve all made my year! i really enjoy seeing yalls posts and knowing that y’all are creating something truly unique for the simblr community whether that’s via your own sim creations, creating builds and cc, writing nicely written stories, and/or just supporting those around you! and i think most of y’all are black so yasssss go black excellence 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾 black simblr >>>>
@invisiblequeen @riverofjazzsims omg thank y’all SO much for helping me test almost all my cc and always creating such lovely sims, stories, and backdrops to go with my hairs 🥹 y’all have kept me going and really motivated me to keep creating my hairs because i know that y’all will give me much appreciated feedback and support no matter what 💗
@prematurehag @yngblkarawak @simphic @daminini @blackskorpi0n @simsadilla y’all are literally so creative that it blows my mind like every single post y’all do especially the renders are so so good like they’re all masterpieces! y’all just leave me in awe every time so pls keep doing what you do bc simblr would be extremely bland without y’all 🫶🏾
@xmiramira i used to watch so many of your sims 4 videos and gta livestreams on youtube and your melanin skins were literally a godsend when sims 4 first started like almost everyone couldn’t create a black sim without your skins so thank you so much for being one of the best black simmers ever and tysm for showing me so much love i could literally faint knowing that you follow me and like my content🫶🏾🫶🏾
@browntrait i know you’re not active rn but and i already told you this but you’re literally one of the main reasons why i wanted to create a simblr! your edits and your sims especially zenya had such an impact on me like i literally saved your edits on my phone bc i wanted to do something similar with my own stuff. you are my inspiration!!! 🙏🏾
@thaplumbob @yuyulie @fizzysugar @aghilasims @helloavocadooo @gnael @darlyssims @sims4bradshaw @earthmoonz @hdmiports @l-e-i-k-o @koibish @cowboycid @armadoth @francescalater @orphyd @boneheelda @mangosimoothie @minaevesmoths @mrsimqle @chaunceydollz @sleepingsims @thestarboysims @starshinesims @zohrou @bonneblah @kimorasimz @meoanii @simtric @glazeio @faestelle @kyaikoo + many others (im so sorry my memory is terrible 😭) i don’t want this post to get too long but the rest of y’all are amazing in your own ways like creating sims that i can instantly recognize that they’re yours without looking at the username, commenting or leaving such sweet tags on my posts which is my favorite thing ever, helping me test my cc or posting your sims in my cc (like !!!!), inspiring me almost everyday, or making me laugh or smile thru a brief yet lovely interaction with you! just thank you so much again and have a lovely 2024!!! 💗🫶🏾🫡
#i kinda got low energy rn bc i pulled an all nighter to help out with family and i kinda re injured my foot so im really tired rn#so i hope this comes out right but i didn’t want to let the day go by without letting y’all know how i feel about y’all#and that i really appreciate y’all in many ways#🪐 speaking
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HI HI it’s me (i’m the problem, it’s me) the sugu romance is dead anon back craving more angst 🥺
Can I have some Suguru, Insecurity, “We’re better off as friends.”
I’ve been in your blog since your birthday and I just wanna thank you for writing all these, they have become my bedtime stories. Love, sugu anon 🫶🫶🫶
HAI SUGU ANON HOW ARE YOU?! I'm so sorry this is so late, I got preoccupied with Better off as Lovers and the page refresh, along with trying to survive in capitalism (boo, lol). But I didn't forget about you! And I am so excited to present you with this!
now loading...
featuring: an insecure Suguru Geto, making the worst mistake of his life.
Suguru loved you more than he thought was possible to love another human. He didn’t even love himself as much as he loved you. And it terrified him. You were everything he wasn’t, but tried to be. You were caring, considerate, creative, and so warm to everyone you ever met. He tired to embody those traits with you, but he just..couldn’t. It was like you were golden, but he was just golden plated.
He’d spent the last six months trying to get over these feelings of inadequacy. To remind himself that it was all in his head. You had to see something in him, right? Some shimmer of something good. You wouldn’t be with him otherwise, right? That thought would comfort him for all of two seconds before he would remember he was a con man at heart, and that he simply had you fooled; the same way he had everyone else fooled.
He held these feelings since the two of you started this relationship, but he had them mostly under control. He had himself convinced that while he had these feelings, it ultimately didn’t matter because you two were meant to be together. It was why the two of you clicked to easily when you first met, why it felt so right to hold you in his arms, why the two of you were put into such close proximity in the first place! The universe had put the two of you together for a reason. Who else would you even be with?
Then Gojo just had to go and open his fucking mouth. Drunken one night in “Casa Gojo” while the two of them watched some shitty movie. Suguru didn’t even remember the name of the film anymore. But he did remember the glassy haze in his best friends eyes as he slurred his confession, like a sinner begging for forgiveness.
“I think I’ve had a crush on her since I first looked at her,” Gojo mumbled, looking at Geto with sad, sleepy eyes. “But, you guys got along so well, and she seemed so into you, I just…I didn't pursue anything. I didn’t want to steal her from you, I guess.” He laughed, but there was no humor. Suguru wasn’t laughing.
“Why are you telling me this?” he asked, voice coming out as more of a forced whisper than much else. Gojo just shrugged.
“I don’t know. Get it off my chest, I guess?”
That night hadn’t left Sugurus head. He had justified your relationship by it all being fate, something that was inevitable; it had to happen. But what if he had gotten in the way of his best friends fate? Gojo was better than him in every conceivable way, and he got along with you just as well. Who’s to say Suguru wasn’t the one holding you back all this time? He was an anchor for everyone he had ever loved, and it wasn’t fair for him to keep insisting you drown with him. Something had to give.
All of this had led him here: sitting back to back with you on opposite sides of his bed; trying to pretend he didn’t hear the sobs wreaking your body. Pretending like he wasn’t fighting off his own tears.
“I’m sorry Y/n, I just think were better off as friends-”
“Yea, I heard you the first time!” You snapped at him, shutting him up instantly as you wrapped his hoodie tighter around your shoulders. You hated the comfort you found in it now. “I’m still waiting for your real reason. Did I do something wrong?” You begged him for explanations he couldn’t give, explanations he didn’t have.
“No!” He sighed, “No, it’s not you, you’re perfect. I just…I’m not in love with you anymore.” He forced himself to say. The words tasted bitter on his tongue, like vomit and battery acid. Truth be told, he was sure he’d love you for the rest of his life. As far as he was concerned, the sun rises in the morning just for you, and the stars dazzle the night sky solely in the hopes you’d glance at them. Knowing he was holding you back from those stars made him feel like he was made of sludge. He couldn’t keep holding you back like this.
“What do you mean you’re not in love with me?!” You sobbed, feeling your heart shatter into a million more pieces, “How do you just fall out of love with someone Suguru, I don’t understand! Is there someone else?” Is that what you needed to believe to accept this? Fine. He could be the villain.
“I didn't mean for it to end up this way Y/n.” He muttered, his voice little more that a choked whisper, “It’s just…we met for drinks one night, one thing led to another-”
“Oh my god.” You cut him off, looking as sick as he felt. “Who is she?!” You demanded.
“No one you know.” He couldn't give you the name of someone who didn’t exist. He could give you someone to blame for all this, some tangible reason why it was happening, but for some reason his heart drew the line at naming the imaginary woman he gave up everything for.
“How long?”
“Three weeks I think?” He mumbled, running a shaky hand through his hair. He hated lying to you. You suddenly stood up, taking his hoodie off and throwing it at him with enough force for it to hurt. You walked to stand in front of him.
“You fucking disgust me Suguru Geto,” You hissed, letting your rage overtake your heartbreak.
“I know.” He disgust himself.
“I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking letting myself fall in love with you! I don’t know who I’m more mad at, me for having the gaul to imagine a life with you, or you for throwing it all away. You are so fucking-” sobs cut off your words, you covered your mouth as you took your time to try and regain your composure. “I can’t believe you’d so this to me..”
Suguru felt his soul crumble. He wanted to wipe your tears away, hold you close and tell you about his lie. To tell you there was no other woman- just him and his insecurities- through a myriad of apologies. He wanted to fall to his knees before you and beg for forgiveness, some way to make it right and go back to how the two of you were an hour ago.
He couldn’t do that though. He couldn’t keep asking you to drown with him. You were meant for stars, not the bottom of the ocean. “I’m sorry Y/n.” was all he could say.
“Like that does shit now.” You scoffed, “Thanks for ruining me asshole.” You hissed, the vitriol in your voice hurting more than any physical attack ever could. You stormed out of his apartment, slamming the door hard enough to shake his walls. He fought the urge to chase after you. To hold you again. He took a deep breath and mentally tried to end the best chapter in his life. He called Gojo.
“Geto? It’s like 2 Am dude, what’s going on?” He asked through a tired yawn.
“Y/n and I broke up. She probably shouldn’t be alone. I hope you two are happy together.” That last part came out with way more disgust than he meant it to.
“Wait, what? Du-” Geto hung up before Gojo could finish his sentence. He ignored the next 5 calls that came through before finally just turning off his phone.
He laid in bed staring at his ceiling. In his soul he knew he had just made the biggest mistake of his life. His bones already ached for your familiar comfort, and his heart felt like it couldn’t find it’s rhythm again. Still, it would be worth it if the two best people he knew could find happiness together. He sighed, feeling his lungs collapse with the breath. He could swear he felt his gold plating rubbing off.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#geto suguru#suguru geto#geto x reader#geto x reader angst#geto x you#geto x y/n#suguru geto angst#geto angst#hurt/no comfort#suguru x reader#suguru geto x reader#suguru
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Robin’s First Date.
| 12:36pm |
“Wow, okay, I’m not taking advice from Mr. Polo for everyday of the week.”
“Hey, those were a gag gift—”
“Right, a gag gift you spent twenty minutes looking for. I got written up cause you couldn’t wear a Saturday on Tuesday.”
“I’m sorry I have standards.”
“Mm-hm.”
“Whatever. Come on—when have I ever steered you wrong? I’m off at 5, plenty of time before your date—”
“No! No. Not that I don’t appreciate it, cause I do and your great and all but...well...our styles don’t exactly mesh.”
“Right, well that’s cause one of us has eyes and one of us has clashing patterns, so—”
“Oh, and the stripes? They don’t ever—”
“Which is good for you! But I know what the ladies like, Bobbin. I also know what this lady likes. And I know what’s going to get you laid.”
“Gross—“
“So are you gonna let me help you or what?”
“I’m calling Eddie.”
“Eddie?! No—”
| 12:57pm |
“Munson Mansion. This is Eddie, trapped in the wine cellar, speaking.”
“Eddie, I need your help.”
“Oh, hey, hi, what’s up?”
“The date’s tonight and I don’t have anything to wear.”
“Okay...”
“Not anything, but what I wanted to wear was in the washer before it broke and now it’s not gonna be dry in time and everything else is too bright, or too boring, and I’m getting sweaty and maybe developing a rash which is just perfect, I’m going to show up red and gross and she’s never going to talk to me again. God, maybe I should just cancel—“
“Heeey there, settle down. Breathe, in—out, there you go.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be over in 10.”
| 3:09pm |
“This is the Wheeler Residence. Looks like you’ve just missed us! Feel free to leave a message—“
| 3:33pm |
“Wheeler Residence, this is Karen speaking—“
| 4:17pm |
“This is Hop.”
“Oh. Um. HI Chief Hopper, or, Officer? Uh—“
“Who is this?”
“Robin. Buckley. Sir. Robin Buckley. I’m a friend of Steve’s?”
“Right.”
“Right. Right, uh yeah.”
“Well, he’s not here, so—“
“Right, right, no! I was, uh, calling for Jonathan? Is he—is he around?”
| 4:21pm |
“Robin?”
“Jonathan! Hey! Buddy...how’s it going?”
“Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, totally, why wouldn’t it be? Unless, everything’s not alright with you? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine. Just don’t get a lot of calls from you.”
“Right. Well, you know work. Busy, busy! Ha ha...”
“Okay...did you wanna talk? Or...”
“Yes! I did, I did...OW! Sorry, sorry, banged my knee against something annoying. So...I can’t do this, this was a terrible idea...well, you shouldn’t have encouraged me—”
“Hey, if you’re busy—“
“Sorry, that was..my dad! Yeah, he needs help with the car. Tire busted and he’s not strong enough to lift the wheels so he always asks me, cause you know. Guns of steel and all that. But we should talk more. Yeah! Okay.”
“Yeah. Definitely...”
| 4:55pm |
“Family Video. This is Steve.”
“Steve.”
“Robin.”
“...”
“You need me to—“
“I need you to come over.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. What’s Eddie got you in?”
“Well...it’s creative?”
“Robin doesn’t want to go metal, even though metal clearly wants to go Robin. Hi sweetheart.”
“Hi babe. Rob, this is why you shouldn’t’ve asked him. He has terrible taste—“
“Ugh! You love this!”
“I do. For you. And more specifically, taking if off of you—“
“O.K. gross! Disgusting! Stop! Can we focus on me? I’m in a crisis!”
“Alright, alright. Let me clock out. Don’t let him near your scissors.”
| 6:14pm |
“This is the Wheeler’s, it’s Mike.”
“Mike! Oh, Michael, thank God I thought I was gonna have to hangup on your mom again.”
“Robin? Why are you calling my house? Is someone in trouble?”
“No! Why does everyone keep assuming that? Don’t answer that. Listen, I need your help.”
“What? No, I have a campaign going.”
“It’ll take like two minutes—did he say a campaign?—then you can do whatever—no, don’t—What campaign?”
“Eddie?”
“What campaign? Unless I’m mistaken, and I rarely am—HA—we don’t have a Hellfire meeting scheduled till Friday. What is this? A mutiny?”
“No! No I promise! It’s just a one-shot, just to get Will back into things, I swear.”
“You swear, huh?”
“On my life! On The Knights of Mystic Fire!”
“Yeah, you better. I’ll let this slide if you help out Robin. No buts! Or Sir Miklan is getting disadvantage on every throw next session.”
“Fine. What do you want?”
“Can you go check and see what Nancy’s wearing?”
“What?!”
“Not like that! Just! We’re, uh, hanging out tonight and she didn’t tell me where we were going and I don’t know if I should bring a jacket, so just go and check, okay?”
“I’m not doing that.”
“What? Why?”
“It’s weird. Here, just talk to her yourself—“
“What—no, Mike—”
“Robin?”
| 6:19pm |
“Nancy. Hi.”
“Hi, Robin.”
“...”
“I didn’t mean to hang up. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I figured it was an accident or something.”
“Yeah. You know me, love slipping on things and hitting buttons I can’t..unclick..”
“Yeah, I do. It’s really cute.”
“Ah, well, I mean, if you say so. Most people find it annoying, but I mean, if you think—ah, well, thank you. I think your cute too, obviously. Um. I mean, not for that, also obviously, cause I don’t think you’ve tripped on anything in your life, uh, so—“
“Robin.”
“Yes!”
“Are you nervous?”
“Yeah! Could you tell?”
“Hm!”
“I don’t know what to wear. I had an idea, and then it vanished and nothing else in my closet felt right. Steve just kept trying to cinch my jeans cause he said that’s what girls like, and Eddie kept suggesting leather, but I sweat a lot in leather, you know? And then I called Jonathan—“
“You called Jonathan?”
“I know, Steve already chewed me out for that. I didn’t really talk to him anyway, I just didn’t know who else to call—I don’t have a lot of friends. But—I don’t know. The outfit needs to be perfect, cause the girl I’m going on the date with, is perfect. And...I really like her. A lot. Like, makes my head dizzy, a lot.”
“Oh, Robin.”
“That’s not a pitying ‘Robin’ is it?”
“No. It’s a ‘you’re very cute and I’m very excited for this date’ Robin. Look, don’t listen to Steve. I’m pretty sure the jeans are more about him getting to check out his own ass than anyone else, and Eddie’s into whatever everybody else isn’t. Just wear what you feel like. You could pull up in PJ’s and I’d be happy. I don’t want the date to be perfect, I want the date to be us.”
“Naaaancyyy! Oh my god that was so perfectly sweet.”
“Does that help?”
“Yeah, that makes me feel better. Still a little anxious, cause on a practical level I still don’t know what to wear, but I do feel better about the not-knowing.”
“Well...if it helps, I’m wearing purple. So you should wear something green, that way we match.”
“That’s smart. I love green.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
“Yeah, that’s why I wore purple.”
“You were trying to get us to match?! Nancy, do you have a crush on me or something?”
“Well I’m glad to see you’re feeling more confident. Even if it’s at my expense.”
“Ha-ha yeah. Okay, gotta run, I’ve got—oh my god, I’m gonna be late. Okay, I’ll see you at the diner—dressed! Bye, Nance!”
“Bye, Robin.”
#my writing#my work#ronance#ronance ficlet#robin buckley#nancy wheeler#stranger things fic#steddie ficlet#hi here's a two line idea that exploded#i loved JUST doing dialogue this was such a fun exercise#also purple/green combo FULLY crediting liv for her genius brain
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Rue – Clayton Keller
Summary: Ines has a bit of a dilemma, marry her ex-boyfriend or get deported
Author’s Note: I don't even go here but an anon suggested Clayton and I ran with it and loved every moment. This is obviously a dramatized version of immigration in America, while I tried to keep aspects as authentic as possible, I also took creative liberties to fit the story.
Also his mom's name is Kelley Keller and that is just so insane to me
Word Count: 9.2k
Album Series Masterlist
Don't wanna make it worse
I'm gonna make it work
“What if you married Clayton?”
“You think marrying my ex-boyfriend for a green card is the answer?”
Ines doesn’t mean to raise her voice; Kat is just trying to help. But it’s been a long 24 hours and she can’t really control her emotions anymore.
“I think there should be reformed paths to citizenship. But that’s not going to happen in the immediate future, so I’m spit balling here.”
Ines flops face down on couch cushion and screams.
“I don’t hear you coming up with any better solutions,” Kat adds.
She lifts her head in shock, “You’re being serious?”
“Kat’s serious about what?” Nick comes back with drinks, his solution for comforting Ines.
“Nez should marry Kells for a green card,” Kat keeps saying it like it’s realistic.
Nick ponders the idea for a moment and shrugs, “It’s not the worst idea.”
“I’m just in a hellish nightmare, I’ll wake up and everything will be normal and everyone will be sane,” Ines rubs her temples.
Kat rubs her shoulder and nudges the drink closer to her.
Ines downs the drink and Schmaltzy passes his own drink before retreating for refills.
“I know it just happened, but have you thought at all what you’re going to do?”
“I mean, I’ve spent my whole life thinking about what I would need to do, it’s just never been so real.”
Ines feels a fresh batch of tears coming, she takes another drink to push them back. Nick comes back with a pitcher of drinks this time, clearly sensing where this night is headed.
“Didn’t one of your sisters have immigration problems?” Nick asks as he pours her a refill.
“Sort of, but it only came up because she was getting married and applying for a green card.”
Kat opens her mouth and Ines shoot hers a glare, “to the man she loves who happened to be an American citizen.”
“Yeah, well, you kind of still love Clayton,” Kat mumbles, “I mean you guys still have pretty regular sex right, Nick?”
Ines turns her boiling anger towards Schmaltzy, “Oh my god, he told you we were having sex?!”
“No, you told her,” he points towards Kat, “and she told me, Kells hasn’t said anything.”
“We don’t do it that often.”
She huffs defensively before squeezing her eyes shut, hoping to return from whatever alternative universe she stumbled into.
“I know the idea sounds insane but think about it, you have all these pictures of you two together, you never made some big breakup announcement or anything, and you still live with him.”
“I mean it would be pretty hard to prove that you aren’t together,” Nick adds.
“From what you’ve told me about this babe, marrying someone is the easiest way for you to get on the right track for citizenship without having to go back to Mexico, where you might not be allowed back.”
She knows Kat is right, that she’s making an excellent case, but that doesn’t make the idea any easier to swallow.
“There’s not enough alcohol in the world.”
Ines spends the next couple hours putting that theory to the test; she doesn’t process much, too busy preserving her brain in alcohol. She loses track of time, of what she should be feeling.
The alcohol makes her feel warm and giddy, but her brain is screaming at her to feels anxious and alert. The mix of the emotion just leaves her a sobbing mess, curled up in Kat’s arms.
Then she hears a shuffle at the door followed by Clayton’s voice.
“You told him?! Oh my god,” she buries herself further into Kat.
“We called him to take you home, we thought you’d prefer to wake up in your own bed.”
Nick is speaking to him in hushed tones and Ines is immediately suspicious.
“I don’t need you to marry me, arcilla, I’ll be fine in Mexico,” her filter is non-existent at this point but somehow, she can still talk this much through her tears and inebriation.
“What is she talking about?” Schmaltzy clearly didn’t spill the beans.
Kat sits up, cradling Ines off to the side, like she’s a child who’s not supposed to hear an adult conversation. Even one this pertinent to her.
“Someone found out she doesn’t have legal citizenship and he’s probably going to report her.”
“What the fuck,” Clayton feels every muscle in his body tense.
“And these two idiots think you should marry me so I can get a green card.”
“Oh.”
Clayton’s never been great with big emotions, and Ines’ tears mixed with her words has his brain frazzled. He came thinking he was just being the DD for Ines, not DD for Ines in distress.
“Nez, babe, why don’t we table this for tonight. Let Kells take you back to your own bed and sleep it off. We’ll start fresh tomorrow,” Kat gently moves some hair behind Ines’ hear.
Ines doesn’t respond, just stands up and follows Clayton to his car on wobbly legs.
The drive isn’t far, but Clayton still feels like he has to say something, anything. He can’t find the words; they aren’t his strong suit. So instead, he wordlessly reaches across the console and grabs Ines’ hand.
⁄⁄⁄
The sun pours through her curtains with a vengeance; telling her it’s pretty late in the morning without even needing to open her eyes. Normally, she would hate wasting most of her day away in bed, but sleeping is a nice escape; not just from reality but from the pounding headache she feels behind her eyes.
Ines flips onto her back and throws an arm over her eyes, debating whether getting up and eating something is better than sleeping more.
Clayton makes the decision for her with a knock on the door, he sheepishly pokes his head in before coming to sit at the end of the bed. Offering up a bag of food, which Ines greedily takes knowing it contains her favorite breakfast sandwich.
“You’re a lifesaver,” she moans after taking a bite, digging into the bag to grab the extra hot sauce she knows Clayton didn’t forget.
She looks up and chokes on her sandwich.
Clayton is holding open a ring box with a diamond ring.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“I talked to Schmaltzy and Kat this morning and you know, I think they’re right. Getting married to me is gonna be the easiest way for you stay in the country.”
“And ruin your life.”
“How will being married to you be that much different than it is now?”
He makes a good point. They broke up before the last off-season and he had offered to let her stay in his house since he would be traveling for a big chunk of the summer. Not worry about finding a new place while she got back on her feet. That was months ago and she’s still here, cooking him meals, cleaning up around the house, having sex with him.
The only real difference is she has her own room now.
“I don’t know, legal paperwork, maybe me being detained by ICE, you being shackled to me for god knows how long, probably two years at least. What if you meet someone?”
“I’m a professional athlete, I don’t think people would be to shocked if I cheated on you.”
Ines isn’t impressed by his attempt at a joke.
“This isn’t fair to you.”
“And it’s fair that you have to move back to a country you barely remember living in?”
He has a single-mindedness that no amount argument will sway. Especially while Ines is in this hungover state.
“Okay, Mr. Machismo, where’d you get the ring?”
“I– um– got it this morning, Kat helped pick it out. You know, need some proof this is real. And before you freak, I bought it with cash so there’s no paper trail or whatever.”
“Christ, you really thought this through?”
“You always told me it could be a possibility, so you know, I thought about what I’d do, especially when we were actually together.”
The look on his face makes her want to cry. He’s so sure; certain that she’s worth the effort, was worth having an escape plan for her.
“I know it’s crazy, but I’d hate to just sit by and watch you get torn away from your life when I could do something.”
“Okay,” Ines’ voice cracks, wet through the tears she can’t hold in anymore, “If you’re sure.”
Clayton nods, plucks the ring out of the box and holds it out on his palm for her; it seems too intimate or too sacrilegious for him to slip it on for her.
“I’ll call my immigration lawyer,” she twists the ring on her finger.
⁄⁄⁄
“Hola Ines!” Sierra, her immigration lawyer squeezes her tightly.
“And this must be the famous tonelada de arcilla,” Sierra grins at Clayton and shakes his hand.
“I can’t believe she told you that,” Ines grumbles as she takes a seat.
“Soledad couldn’t keep her big mouth shut if she tried,” Sierra moves to the other side of her desk, “besides I love your mom’s inability to understand American names, like Ashton.”
“Oh yeah, tonelada de ceniza,” Ines giggles.
“You’re saying I’m not special?” Clayton smirks.
“You’re very special mi arcilla,” she bumps his knee with her own.
“So, we’re here to talk about a marriage green card?” Sierra gets to business.
“We got engaged right before this, but now some asshole is threatening to report Nez’ status to immigration. So it sounds fishy, but we just want to start the process before anything happens.”
Ines nods with a tight smile. She was expecting Clayton to be here for moral support, not for him to take the lead.
“Okay, so we don’t know if he’s reported anything or if ICE will even investigate you. But since you work for a political organization that isn’t exactly beloved in Arizona, we’ll prepare for the worst.”
Instinctively, Clayton reaches out to hold Ines’ hand, stop her from fidgeting before she even starts.
Sierra looks at her watch, “we probably don’t have time to get you married today, but definitely can get your license today. It’s probably for the best, since this is kind of rush job you’ll probably want to dress up, have some friends as witnesses, make it clear this is above the board.”
Ines squeezes Clayton’s hand. Sierra is too busy shuffling through papers to notice any nerves, or maybe she’s just used to it.
“How’s that sound? Married by tomorrow, try to finish the paperwork in the next couple weeks?”
“Um- what about signing a pre-nup?” Clayton snaps his head towards Ines, “I mean I know it’s best if we have like joint accounts to show it’s legit or that I won’t end up on welfare immediately, but most people aren’t marrying millionaires.”
“You don’t need to sign a pre-nup,” Clayton sounds almost hurt at her suggestion.
Ines slips her hand out of his, “Don’t be stupid, we’re only moving this fast because of me, I don’t want you to be at any legal risk just because I need a green card.”
“I haven’t worked with a case quite like this, but a pre-nup might help your case that this is for the right reasons and not just for a green card.”
Ines starts chewing on her thumbnail, Clayton grabs her hand to stop her.
“I’m not your agent, but we can probably draft a quick contract of sorts that will say she will sign a post-nuptial and you can sort that out after with your people.”
Sierra then goes on a spiel about what to expect, what documents they’ll need, forms they need to fill out, the medical exam Ines will need. Clayton is trying to pay attention, but his eyes are glazing over. She hooks her foot around his ankle and tries to give him her most grateful smile, she hopes it doesn’t look too much like a grimace.
They find themselves at the courthouse the next day. Kat had insists they don’t see each other before the wedding, so they go in separate cars. It makes no sense since the foursome all knows this isn’t real, it’s all an act.
Kat stops her on the steps of the courthouse,
“You have your something old with the dress,” she gestures to the huipil her abuela had made for her mother, it was the only mostly white thing she owned, though it was mostly covered in bright colored flowers.
“And your something new with that rock on your finger, so here’s your something borrowed and blue,” she digs through her purse for a box with a pair of simple sapphire earring.
“You know it’s not–“
“This may not be your dream wedding, but let’s no fuck around with good luck.”
Kat looks like she wants to say more, but that’s not something Ines wants to dissect at the moment. She pulls her into a tight embrace instead.
Clayton and Nick are already waiting inside. Ines makes a silly scrunched up face that Clayton returns.
“Don’t be gross,” Kat nudges her, it’s when Ines realizes she’s filming.
“I honestly thought you were gonna wear a Gucci t-shirt,” Ines grins when they stop in front of the guys.
“I made him put on something with a collar,” Nick gives Clayton a playful shove.
“Aww he could have been your something blue,” Kat coos as Ines fixes the collar of Clayton’s steel blue shirt.
“But I still would have needed something borrowed,” she laughs until she remembers she’s borrowing Clayton, she drops her hands to her sides like they caught on fire.
Thankfully, the clerk calls their names, saving them from dwelling too long on that truth.
The ceremony takes all of 15 minutes. Ines all too aware of her hands sweating in Clayton’s as they hold hands in front of the judge. Picture perfect.
“By the power vested in my by the state of Arizona, I know pronounce you married!”
When neither react right away the judge speaks up again and winks, “now would be a lovely time to kiss.”
An awkward giggle bubbles out of Ines, but then Clayton is cupping her face and kissing her. She kisses back, and what should probably be a more chaste kiss gets a little heated. Ines likes kissing Clayton, sue her.
They’re broken a part by the obnoxious cheers from Kat and Schmaltzy. Both are flushed when they pull away, neither quite sure if it’s from lust or embarrassment.
“Now that’s how you start off a marriage, congratulations,” the judge smiles.
⁄⁄⁄
Ines is fidgeting with everything. She’s moved a vase of flower about twenty times, though it’s only moved about 1 inch away from its original place.
Clayton grabs her arms and pins them to her sides, “relax, it’s just your family.”
“Oh yeah, my totally calm, quiet, chill family. Nothing to worry about.”
“Your family loves me, we’ll be fine,” he lets her arms go and she immediately moves the vase again.
“Where’s your ring?”
She reaches into the pocket of her dress, “My mom will notice it immediately, I’ll put it on after we tell them,” she starts to turn before wheeling back around, “that we’re engaged they don’t need to know we’re actually married, I don’t want them worrying about immigration.”
Clayton nods.
“And where’s your ring?” she instinctively grabs his hand to look.
“You just said they shouldn’t know we got married,” he laughs at her pinballing thoughts.
Ines opens her mouth to say something but he cuts her off by pulling out one of his chains, the silver ring hanging off of it.
“Okay,” she lets out a sigh, “keep it in your shirt, arcilla.”
Ines moves over to straighten an already pristine tablecloth; all the deception is making her ill. She doesn’t want to tell anyone, but she knows the news will get out somehow, and her mother will never forgive her. She might not forgive her if she learned she’s already married.
“When are we gonna tell your family? We can’t just be ‘engaged’ for two years or so without them knowing.
“We can call them after probably,” he shrugs, his confidence over this decision clearly wavering a bit. Ines feels secretly happy about that, they’re on a level playing field.
The doorbell rings, the commotion of her immediate family barely muffled through the door.
“Showtime,” Ines plasters on a big smile.
The family stumbles in, a cacophony of Spanish follows as they all speak over each other to greet Ines and pass off food.
“Clayton, mi amor,” Ines’ mom cups his face and kisses him all over before pulling him into a tight embrace, “I knew you two would figure it out.”
“Yeah, I’m glad we did.”
He takes some food and follows Ines to the kitchen as she gives directions to her family in Spanish. They’ve been together long enough he recognizes some of it, but he feels bad for never trying to learn Spanish in earnest.
One of her sisters, Teresa, is pouring shots of tequila. Ines smirks at him and is about to comment when a small body rams into him.
“Clayton! Look I lost a tooth at hockey,” Ines’ niece, Marisol smiles to show off the gap.
“She didn’t lose it during a game, she lost it shooting in our driveway,” her twin brother Mateo sneers.
“You’re just mad you have all your teeth still,” she sticks her tongue out.
“You know when you get adult teeth you want to keep them all, even as a hockey player,” Ines butts in.
“Whatever tia,” the little girl rolls her eyes and gets a scoff back from her aunt.
“The new season just started, how’s the new gear?” Clayton changes the subject.
“I don’t have to wear three pairs of socks in my skates anymore, and the sticks are so nice.” Mateo’s eyes gleam with excitement.
“Maybe later we can shoot around a bit,” Clayton smiles back.
The twins cheer at the idea before running off to tell their mom.
“You bought them gear for their new season?” Ines furrows her brows.
“Yeah, I have my connections,” he tries to play it off.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“No, but last season they had all that hand-me-down gear, it was literally the least I could do for getting them into the sport in the first place.
Ines nods.
“Lovebirds, we’re taking shots in your honor,” Teresa calls them over to the rest of the adults and hands them cups.
“¡Arriba, abajo, al centro y pa’dentro!”
The tequila goes down smooth, relaxing her enough to rip off the band aid.
“Well, we have something else for you to cheers,” Ines leans into Clayton’s side before reaching into her pocket and putting on the ring, “we’re engaged.”
There are screams, hugs, kisses, and even some tears. Ines feels the alcohol going to her head far faster than it should. Another glass being thrust into hand and another toast.
“Felicidades mija,” Ines’ dad brings her in close.
He’s a man of few words, partially because he never really learned the language of his new country. Those two simple words and the joy in his eyes makes Ines want to weep. He turns to Clayton, placing a strong hand on his shoulder and holding his other hand out.
“Bienvenido a nuestro familia.”
“Uh, gracias Hector, soy muy um–“ he leans over to Ines “how do I say I’m very excited?”
“Está muy emocionado, papi.”
“¡Más tequila!” He shouts and the family cheers.
“He’s happy for us, right? Not trying to kill me?” Clayton ribs Ines.
“I think this might be a test, if you die you wouldn’t have fit in anyway,” she smiles back.
“So, when are you going to get pregnant, mija?”
“Jesucristo mamí,” Ines furiously blushes, “couldn’t you have at least asked that in Spanish?”
“It takes both of you, I thought he should understand too.”
Her family is a little less embarrassing the rest of the party, they genuinely seem excited for Clayton to join the family. Her niece and nephew ask if Clayton is finally their real tio while she watches them pass around a ball on the sport court in the backyard.
Her heart aches with the truth.
It’s keeping her up in her bed. Usually, after that much tequila she’d be asleep within minutes, but there’s too much going on in her brain.
Her door creaks open and Clayton creeps into the room.
“How drunk are you still?” Ines tries to suppress the smile in her voice as Clayton clumsily crawls into the bed.
He merely grunts in response and moves around to get comfy.
“And you’re in here why?”
“I think the air conditioner isn’t getting into my room,” he mumbles and drapes an arm over Ines, burrowing his head into neck.
He can’t see her epic eye roll; she knows the air conditioner is probably fine and there are two other guest rooms he could use.
“You don’t have to lie, I know you like to cuddle when you’re drunk, babe.”
She winces at her casual use of a pet name, feels Clayton freeze for a second too.
She runs a hand through his hair until he relaxes again, “since my family tried to poison you, I’ll make you a hangover-approved breakfast before practice tomorrow.”
He hums in response, breath evening out until he’s asleep.
Ines is quick to follow, the weight of his arm a grounding comfort.
⁄⁄⁄
A month into the regular season and Ines still hasn’t been to a game. Kat warned her some of the significant others were starting to talk. Rumors of her breaking up with Clayton before the off-season had been swirling around. Sure, those rumors were true, but there was no concrete reason to believe them until her recent absence.
From what Ines heard about other teams, this group wasn’t particularly cliquey or gossipy. But sometimes that meant when there was something to talk about, they were hyper-focused. And that seems to be the situation now.
So being the girlfriend/fiancée/wife/whatever the hell she is to a member of team leadership, she invited the group over for dinner and drinks to watch an away game.
In actuality, it comes at the perfect time. Ines likes planning and organizing and it’s the perfect way to keep her mind off everything else. The most pressing being that Clayton is in St. Louis and made her promise to Facetime with him and his parents after the game. Keeping up appearances when she didn’t travel for the first game with her future in-laws.
Coming in at a close second is the fact the Blues are playing in town the day before Thanksgiving, so his mom thought it was a great time to visit for the holiday. Especially since Ines couldn’t make it out to Missouri this trip.
She’s already nauseous at the thought of moving her stuff back into the master bedroom, hiding all evidence of the truth. For now, the door is locked, so no nosy and/or drunk women pop in tonight.
“Pour yourself a drink and sit the fuck down Nez, the game is about to start,” Kat warns from her spot on the couch.
Ines stops organizing the growing pile of mail and rolls her shoulders back. She grabs a new bottle wine, knowing this group has already emptied the ones on the table before the anthem is even finished. She settles in the middle of the couch and cuddles into Kat’s side.
It’s nice to be back with a group of friends. Ines always gets lonely in the summer when most of them go back home and she’s stuck here, but this summer had been especially brutal.
“Ines, what the hell is that?” Claire shouts moments after puck drop.
Ines’ eyes dart around the room, looking for a scorpion or something that made it into the house.
“The ring on your finger!” Claire is grabbing her hand; the game is quickly forgotten in favor of this.
“Clayton proposed,” she feels her mouth attempt to smile, but it feels all wrong.
“Finally!” Someone cheers from behind her and the rest of the group seems to concur.
She didn’t mean to leave the ring on, it still feels so bulky and foreign. But she’s trying to at least wear it to work, so it doesn’t seem like some secret green card relationship. Though maybe keeping it from the WAGs makes it seem like a dirty secret.
In her mind it’s easier to cut and run from work acquaintances if this all blows up in her face. Clayton is stuck with most of these people, and Ines can’t imagine hurting him when he’s being so kind.
“Look how red she’s turning, no wonder she was staying away from us, Nez hates the spotlight,” Claire laughs.
“How did it happen?”
Ines wants to melt into the couch.
“Nothing special, he just brought me my favorite hangover breakfast and proposed while I was still in bed,” she shrugs, not wanting to lie more than necessary.
“Makes it convenient if you’re already in bed,” Kat waggles her eyebrows and Ines punches her arm.
“He knows I wouldn’t have accepted anything that wasn’t lowkey.”
“Yeah, except that gorgeous diamond, good work Kells,” Claire adds, giving the ring one last look before the action onscreen grabs back their attention.
Ines is a little wine drunk by the time the ladies clear out. Her face feels flushed and warm as she tries to clean up wine glasses and plates.
There’s one bottle with a little wine left and she pours herself another glass while she waits for Clayton to call. She starts to go through the mail she tossed aside before the game. A reminder for a dentist appointment, a credit card statement, a letter asking to go paperless for billing.
Her phone starts to buzz against the kitchen island, she answers the Facetime wishing it were a phone call instead.
“Hi arcilla, you played well tonight,” she’s actually not positive he played well, she mostly drank and caught up with her friends.
She looks down to the mail again, an official looking envelope addressed to her stares back at her.
“You, okay?”
“Yeah, sorry I’m a little tipsy,” she holds up her glass of wine for him to see.
“You had fun then?”
His dimple is on full display when he smiles and it reminds her of when they used to do this all the time; a call before either went to bed just to say hello or see each other’s faces. Ines knows what every hotel wall and headboard looks like in the NHL.
She plays with the corners of the envelope, “This is great and all, but I thought this was so I could say hi to your parents.”
Clayton starts to move, “they wanted to give us some privacy first.”
“Did they think we were gonna have quick phone se-ehh,” Ines peters off when his parents appear on screen.
Clayton is trying to hold back a laugh while Ines feels her flush grow brighter, “Hi Kelley, hi Bryan.”
“Hi honey, when are we gonna get you out here?” His mom asks.
“Sorry ,work never seems to be in my favor.”
She lies, it’s easier than saying she hasn’t been on a plane in 20 years because she’s afraid she’ll get deported. She’s never seen Clayton’s family outside of Arizona or somewhere within driving distance. They haven’t seemed too bothered, but she’s always worried they’re just good at hiding their true thoughts.
“One day,” she smiles, “we’re excited to see you in a couple weeks, is there anything you want us to make special for Thanksgiving?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You’re coming to our house.”
“Let me be a mom and take care of it” she scoffs, “you are my first daughter.”
Ines just nods because her voice might crack if she speaks.
“We’re getting a late dinner, so we’ll let you go. But can’t wait to see you, Ines,” Bryan says and gives a wave.
“Yeah, should be fun, enjoy dinner,” she waves back.
“Bye babe, love you,” Clayton waves, his eyes go wide before the call ends.
She’d give the moment more thought if she wasn’t itching to rip open the envelope in her hands.
Notice to Appear.
December 11th.
Suddenly the walls feel like they’re closing in.
⁄⁄⁄
When Clayton gets home from the road trip Ines is in the hot tub. Her muscles having felt wound tight for the last week.
“Saw you’re all moved in,” he says as he dangles his legs into the tub.
Ines doesn’t open her eyes to look at him, just nods.
“And you have your immigration hearing in December.”
She nods again, she left the letter out by the table where they put their keys. She didn’t want to talk about it, but she had to tell him.
“I’ll be in Buffalo that day, but I–“
Ines opens her eyes, gives him an exasperated look, “You’ll play a hockey game and I’ll be fine on my own.”
“It’s not–“
She moves closer, almost to the space between his legs, “you’re doing so much for me, please don’t fight me on this. Just go play hockey.”
“Okay,” he nearly whispers.
Ines thinks about how easy it would be to give him a blow job right now, let her mind go blank for a bit. Shut up Clayton for a bit.
Before she can actually act on those thoughts, he places a hand on her cheek, running his thumb across her cheek bone.
“And you’re doing, okay?”
She honestly doesn’t know, but she does know she doesn’t want to talk about it.
So, she grabs Clayton’s wrist and pulls him in closer. She doesn’t wait for him to catch up, smashing their lips together and pushing her tongue into his mouth before he even starts kissing back.
He’s quick to catch up to her. Pulling her flush against him, filling the space between his legs. It’s the first time they’ve done this since they got married, it feels like all the building tension is finally exploding. Ines feels molten.
Clayton unties the back her bikini top and tosses it somewhere behind him with a wet splat. His hands cover her chest and she can’t help but shiver, maybe from the cold air but probably not.
She grabs his hair and pulls him away from her, “we should take this inside.”
Without second thought he pulls her out of the hot tub and towards the house, the strings of her bottoms undone and left outside as well. Ines paws at his shirt, trying to get her own fill of skin.
He pulls it over his head in one fluid motion as he maneuvers Ines towards the bedroom. Her back hits the mattress before she realizes they’re in the master bedroom.
They haven’t done this here since the break up six months ago, like it’s too intimate, too full of the past.
Clayton is hovering over her, the chain with the wedding ring dangling. The room is filled with her belongings again and she feels like she’s in some alternate universe. A world where they never broke up, where marriage was a logical step in the future.
She tries to clear her mind again, pulling Clayton down for a kiss because she wants this.
⁄⁄⁄
An alarm starts to blare and she feels the other side of the bed move.
“Sorry, that’s mine,” Ines apologizes and turns it off.
She lays back and stares at the ceiling for a bit. It feels too familiar to wake up in here, naked in the softest sheets she’s ever felt. But nothing has actually shifted, she’ll get out of bed and everything will be as it was.
She rubs the sleep from her eyes and gets out of bed to take a shower. Clayton is getting ready for practice when she gets out of the bathroom.
“I forgot how nice that shower is, you should redo the one guest bathroom, it could have better water pressure,” she jokes, though it doesn’t really land.
She wanders into the walk-in closet where she’s haphazardly put away some of her clothes, she feels Clayton follow her in, even though he’s mostly dressed.
“My parents get in today; do you want to go to the game with them tonight?” He sounds like he’s asking out a girl for the first time.
“The twins have a music recital or play or something I said I’d go to, but they can take my car to the arena so you don’t have to worry about that.”
She drops the towel on the floor and starts getting dressed for work, stopping before she zips up her dress, reading between the lines of Clayton’s question.
“But I’ll be at the game with them on Wednesday, I mean if you can get me a ticket,” she turns to flash a smile at Clayton to find that’s he’s only a step away.
“I think I can manage that,” he turns Ines around, moving her hair out of the way and zipping up the dress for her, fingers lingering at her neck for a second too long.
Ines stops herself from shivering and turns around, “I have to leave, but see you after the game.”
She gives him a quick peck against her better judgement, “good luck.”
The casual touches don’t disappear in the following days. Ines can’t tell if they’re putting a show on for his parents or not. The touches seem too instinctive to just be a spectacle, but maybe that’s because they’re sharing a bed again and can’t seem to keep their hands off each other behind closed doors.
Though that seems to be seeping outside of the bedroom, too.
The morning after his parents arrive, Kelley is in the kitchen making coffee and gives them a knowing look when they come out of the bedroom, as if to tell them they were too loud even from the other side of the house. Ines decides to pick up breakfast on her way to work rather than sit through breakfast at home.
That night Ines is laid out on the couch not paying attention to the football game playing on TV. Clayton lifts her head up and then places her back down on his lap when he sits.
She groans as she tries to get more comfortable, “You make a terrible pillow, you’re too bony.”
“I think it’s the titanium rod in my leg,” he says back, squirming underneath her to make her more frustrated.
“You were bony before then too,” she rolls her eyes and pretends to focus on the game and ignore Clayton’s fingers brushing under her shirt.
Wednesday is a half day for Ines, she gets home to a surprisingly empty house and enjoys drinking a beer and mindlessly watching Tiktoks in peace.
“Hey, wasn’t expecting you home,” Ines jumps when Clayton comes up behind her.
“Wasn’t expecting to find an empty house,” she shrugs.
“My parents are picking up Jake from the airport,” he wraps his arms around Ines’ waist, “I was about to take my pre-game nap, but I wouldn’t say no to some company.”
He presses a couple kisses into her neck, “an afternoon nap sounds nice.”
She barely finishes the sentence before he’s walking her to the bedroom. Clayton is a little handsy as Ines crawls into the bed.
“I’m serious about an actual nap, I won’t be held responsible if you have a bad game.”
Clayton rolls away, hands up in surrender.
Ines rolls towards him wrapping an arm around his middle, “For all your suffering, I’ll give you a blow job if you win tonight.”
“A victory blow job? You didn’t even do that when we were dating,” he chuckles, the sound amplified with her ear on his chest.
“What can I say, I’m in a giving mood,” she kisses his pec and closes her eyes.
Clayton’s alarm goes off and Ines groans.
“You can sleep longer,” he runs a hand through her hair before slipping out from under her.
“Nah, I’ll just be more tired later,” she rolls over but doesn’t get out of the bed, watches Clayton go into the closet.
“You should wear the green suit from the awards, it’s a special request from Marisol.”
“Oh yeah?”
“She thinks I have a say over what you wear and she told me it’s her favorite,” she watches Clayton start to get undressed, “you did look hot in it,” she smirks when he fumbles with a hanger in response.
When he comes out dressed, he still has bedhead. Ines gets up to fix it, he jokingly bats her hands away as they leave the room.
“Just let me fix this one piece arcilla, you look like we just fucked,” she stops in her tracks at the sight of Clayton’s family, “Hi Jake, good to see you.”
Jake nods in her direction, not particularly friendly, but she can pretend it’s because of the awkward conversation they just heard.
Ines knows Clayton told his brother everything, or more than Ines would like. She’s not sure exactly what he told his parents about the break up, but they seem to have forgiven anything pretty quickly. She knows Jake is a little weary of her now, and maybe her motives.
Clayton is either oblivious or just trying to play it off and gives him a bro-hug before he heads off to the game
The awkward air between Jake and Ines remains, not that they were ever specifically close, but this feels extra icy. She tries to avoid sitting next to him, but the two get caught between the parents. And she’s not even in her usual seats near Kat to have a buffer.
The game is a bit messy, passes aren’t connecting, the power play might as well be missing, but the crowd is into it. Mullett is small enough to feel like you’re always in the game, which helps Ines because before Clayton she knew next to nothing about hockey. Being this up close means she’s 99% sure she understands the rules, except goalie interference.
The second period ends with the Blues up by one, which isn’t too bad considering how the game is looking.
“Have you two talked about any wedding plans?” Kelley turns to Ines,
On her other side she hears Jake snort on his drink, she makes a mental note to double check how much Clayton has told his brother.
“Not really, I had a quinceañera so I already had my big party and fancy-dress moment,” it’s the truth, her 15th birthday fulfilled a lot of princess dreams she may have had.
“You’re both still young, you can have long engagement to figure it out if you want.”
Ines feels the anxiety seep out of her bones.
“You two could even get married at a courthouse if that’s that you wanted.”
The tension comes back so quickly it almost gives her whiplash.
Jake shoots up and mumbles something about food. Ines would follow him, but she’s not sure a public confrontation is the best idea.
Thankfully there’s some more hockey to distract her, the Coyotes end up clawing back but lose in OT on a poorly timed line change.
There’s not a great place to wait for the boys at Mullett, so they sit in their seats for a while before meandering down.
Kat jumps on Ines the moment she sees her.
“Look who’s gracing us with her presence,” Kat kisses her cheek and slides off her back before she can accidentally knock them to the ground.
“Yeah, yeah, I get it, bad WAG alert,” Ines swats her away.
She hears Jake mumble something, but can’t quite make it out. That’s when Kat actually seems to comprehend that Clayton’s family is here.
“The two lovebirds have been busy being cooped up, we haven’t seen them both in the flesh for a while,” she gives a cheeky smile and winks at the Kellers.
“We’re in the same house and they’re having a hard time keeping it in the bedroom, so consider yourself lucky,” Bryan laughs with Kat while Ines cheeks burn.
“Oooh la la Nez, loving this pre-honeymoon phase for you,” she gives Ines a meaningful pinch on the side, a warning they will be talking about this later.
“Speak of the devil,” Kelley laughs and pulls her son into hug.
“Kells show me some of this PDA everyone is talking about,” Kat is clearly not above egging this on despite the sharp look Ines gives.
Clayton pulls her in tight, ducking his head so he can whisper to her.
“Sorry, I didn’t live up to our end of the bargain. No prize for me,” he fake pouts.
“Cause I’m still in a giving mood, here’s a consolation prize for a one-point night,” Ines pulls Clayton in for a kiss, ignoring the catcall from Kat.
“That’s it?” Clayton her pulls her in tightly to his side.
“Don’t push it,” she elbows him in the side, ignores the knowing look Kat is directing her way.
Ines manages to convince everyone the brothers should ride home together, since they don’t see each other enough. Partially, to prove to Kat that there’s nothing going on; partially hoping that Clayton and Jake will talk through whatever weirdness is going on.
⁄⁄⁄
“Do you have to go golfing and leave me alone with your mom?” Ines complains before stuffing her face in the pillow
“You like my mom,” Clayton rolls back onto the bed and rubs her back.
“Yeah, but preparing Thanksgiving is like serious mother-daughter shit, I’d love some backup.”
“You could come golfing.”
“Cause I’d love to get made fun of instead.”
“Those are kind of your two options,” he kisses her shoulder.
“Fine, staying home it is,” she flips over onto her back, “can you at least make sure Jake won’t be weird when you guys come back.”
“He’s just looking out for me, doesn’t want you taking advantage of me,” Clayton absentmindedly traces up and down her arm.
“Did you tell him this was your suggestion? And that I signed a pre-nup? I won’t take advantage and steal your money if that’s what he’s worried about.”
His hand stills for a moment, “I’ll talk to him again, don’t worry about it.”
He stands up again, “have fun cooking.”
“I hope you lose!” Ines calls back.
Ines wanders into the kitchen an hour later, Kelley already deep in prep.
“Sorry, I went back to sleep. Though I’ve never cooked Thanksgiving so I don’t know how much help I’ll be.”
“You’re a great cook, I think you’ll be fine,” Kelley laughs before instructing her on how to finish prepping the stuffing.
Ines takes off the engagement ring and places it in the middle of the island, out of reach. She rubs the naked finger and notices there’s already a faint tan line. She flexes the fingers, like that will give her some answers. Like why taking it off doesn’t feel like unhooking an anchor that’s pulling her under anymore.
She looks up to see she’s been caught by Kelley. If she has some thoughts, she doesn’t share them with Ines.
They work mostly in quiet, the Thanksgiving Parade playing on the TV in the other room. Kelley stopping every once in a while, to watch or tell Ines about watching the parade growing up. How Clayton used to worry the balloons were going to eat the people holding them when he was a toddler.
“This is your first turkey?” Kelley says as Ines puts the bird in the oven
“Yeah, I spent most of my Thanksgivings helping my mom with housekeeping, so can’t do this but ask me to make a bed, I got you,” Ines laughs.
“This calls for a toast then,” Kelley finds some Bailey’s and pours it into their coffees, “To sharing my secrets with my new daughter.”
She clinks her mug against Ines, the sound scrambles something in Ines’ heart, “You know Clay and I broke up right?”
Kelley takes a long sip of her coffee and hums.
“He told us you needed some time apart. Because of all the uncertainty around the team and some things he didn’t really get into,” Kelley trails off.
“It’s understandable you’re both so young and had to go through some really intense things together. I think it was really mature what you two decided, but I’m really glad you worked it out, you make Clayton so happy. I think happier than hockey, if that’s possible.”
Ines lip starts to wobble, she tries to stop the tears. But how can she when even Clayton’s mom believes their lie? How can she break her heart down the line?
“Oh darling,” Kelley pulls her into a tight embrace that only a mom can give, “love is never easy, and if down the road it’s not right anymore, that will be okay too. It’s privilege to find love at all.”
That sends Ines into another wave of sobs. She buries her face into Kelley’s shoulder as she gently rubs Ines’ back and sways them side to side.
Once her cries seem to calmed down to sniffles, Kelley moves away enough to see Ines’ face. She wipes away the few stray tears, “I see the way you two look at each other when you think no one’s watching, I think you’ll happy together for a very long time.”
Kelley smiles, her eyes a little glossy like she might cry too. And with a shaky breath Ines tries to give her a smile back.
They hear the door open and the boys start to come into the house.
“Who won?” Kelley calls out as they come around the corner.
Ines tries to busy herself by rolling out the pie crust they had forgotten.
“Jake squeaked one out,” Bryan comes around the island and kisses Kelley, “smells great ladies, you need any help?”
“Not right now, we were gonna take a break soon,” Kelley winks at Ines.
Clayton comes and leans into Ines from behind, his hands boxing Ines in. He kisses her cheek before he notices her eyes rimmed red.
“You, okay?” He whispers, kissing below her ear.
“Yeah, whatever onions we bought were like tear gas,” she cracks a smile and leans back into him.
“We had to evacuate for a while, I think we just got it under control before you guys came home,” Kelley smiles and pulls Bryan out of the kitchen, following the sounds of a football game Jake put on.
Ines turns around, still boxed in by Clayton. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and hangs her weight on him, feeling a bit tired. He moves his hands to her hips, giving them a gentle squeeze.
“Was it rough morning alone with my mom?”
“No, it was really nice, actually.”
She pulls back to give him a genuine smile, plays with the ends of his hair, “And did you talk to Jake?”
“Yeah, and I let him win so I think he’ll be in a good mood.”
“Wow, you did that for me?”
“Yeah, of course,” he smirks before dipping down to kiss her.
“Why can’t you let me win?” Ines pouts when the pull a part.
“I can’t act that well,” he’s biting back a mischievous grin, “but if you ask nicely, I can help you improve your back swing.”
He’s gently moving her hips side to side when Ines gives him a playful shove, “Keep it in your pants Keller, your family is in the other room.”
“Hasn’t stopped you much this week,” he pulls her flush against his chest, his hands wandering to her ass.
“Oh my god, there’s not gonna be that kind of giving today.”
Clayton’s about to respond, “Is it safe to come into the kitchen or are you two fondling each other?”
Ines moves Clayton’s hands off her butt and to his sides, “All clear Jake, your brother was just leaving to take a shower, a cold one,” she whispers the last part.
Jake makes a gagging sound, “you two are gross.”
“One day you’ll have someone to fondle other than yourself,” Clayton punches his brother in the arm on the way out of the kitchen.
⁄⁄⁄
Ines and Kat are sitting on the steps of the courthouse, finishing their coffees. The coffee was probably a mistake, it’s sitting acidic and heavy in her stomach.
At least the universe wasn’t cruel enough to have her hearing at the same courthouse as she got married. She doesn’t think her heart could take the irony.
Kat is jittery, her knee bouncing erratically. Caffeine doesn’t have that kind of effect on her, so Ines knows it must be something else.
“I think I’m supposed to be the nervous one.”
“I still don’t understand why you broke up with Clayton in the first place.”
Ines whips her head around like there’s someone waiting around the corner to record this kind of damning evidence.
“You said you’d explain, but you never did. And it’s clear you still have feelings for him.”
Ines scoffs.
“Fine, you don’t love him, then tell me why you broke up and why you never moved out? You had plenty of time to find a new place, Nick and I would have let you move in.”
“I was tired of holding him back.”
Ines gulps down the cold remnants of her drink.
“It was so exhausting telling him no. No, I can’t go home with you to meet your parents. No, I can’t go to the All-Star Game in Florida cause it’s not in driving distance. I can’t be your date to a wedding because I can’t get on a plane. I can’t have bye week with all our friends in the fucking country I was born in because I may not get to come home!”
She tries to take even-keeled breaths; she doesn’t want to start crying before her hearing even starts.
“And he couldn’t tell people because what if someone slipped up and I got deported, or worse they found my parents or Soledad. She has kids!”
Kat puts a gentle hand on her knee.
“And he shouldn’t have to deal with that, he could find someone less complicated and someone who could actually be there for him.”
“Did he ever tell you those things were a problem?”
“No, but I could see how frustrating all those little things were becoming; how upset he’d get with every new thing I couldn’t do.”
“Yeah, he’s upset because you couldn’t live a full life without worry. Because he loves you, Ines! He’s still in love with you.”
“No, he isn’t. He’s just nice. He would have said something by now, not just married me and suffered in silence.”
“Oh, he should have said something? Like you’re saying something because you clearly still love him, too?”
Ines just blinks at Kat, like her brain can’t possibly comprehend what her friend is saying. She doesn’t even get the chance to argue because her alarm goes off.
“You have a court hearing, but don’t think justice will stop us from talking about this later,” Kat says sternly.
In the court room, Ines sits between her lawyer and Kat. Her brain feels too fried to keep up with the basics the judge opens up with.
“Now it says the couple was wed on September 14th of this year. Just a few days before the official report was filed about Ms. Ruiz’ status. You’ll understand why this seems a little convenient.”
“Yes, your honor,” Sierra stands up holding a file, “but the couple was engaged before any officially filings were made. And you can see in the documents we have a receipt from when Mr. Keller bought the engagement ring back in March of this year. If you need to see Ms. Ruiz’ ring for confirmation she can approach the bench.”
“That won’t be necessary. Seeing as all the applications are going through the appropriate channels, I see no reason to hold Ms. Ruiz in custody while she waits for her green card interview.”
The gavel bang echoes in Ines’ head, but the judge is already moving on to the next case. Sierra and Kat help lead her out of the courtroom. They’re excitedly chattering, and Ines knows she should join in, knows this is good news, but she hasn’t quite caught up.
She sends Clayton a text: Hearing went well, won’t be going to prison, then promptly turns off her phone.
⁄⁄⁄
Ines gets two days to stew before Clayton comes home.
He picks her up and spins her around in excitement the instant he sees her. His smile falters when he sets her down and sees the borderline grim look on Ines’ face.
“You bought the ring in March?”
Clayton doesn’t know what to say, shocked by the realization.
“They brought up the receipt during the hearing, to help prove that it wasn’t just a last-minute wedding.”
Ines bites at her thumb nail, the ring catching the light. Clayton feels some relief that she hasn’t taken it off.
“You wanted to marry me before we broke up?”
“You breaking up with me kind of ruined my plans,” Clayton shrugs, not sure the direction this conversation is taking.
Ines laughs in spite herself.
“There were all those weddings you couldn’t come to and I thought you needed a chance to think without any pressure from my life, I didn’t expect it to be permanent.”
Ines audibly swallows, they’re walking around the heart of the issue, both too scared to be the first to show all their cards.
“I still got to marry you, not in the way I wanted. But I don’t regret that, no matter what you think.”
Ines moves to take off the ring, Clayton holds his breath while his heart clenches painfully.
“Ask me again.”
“What?”
Ines hands him the ring, her voice wavers a bit, “ask me again.”
He fumbles with the ring for a second before dropping down to one knee.
“I- uh don’t have anything romantic to say. But I love you Ines and I want to be with you as long as you’ll have me. So will you marry me?”
Ines lets out a small sob before covering her face, “Oh my god I can’t believe I’m a girl who cries when she gets proposed to.”
“Is that a yes? Cause otherwise this is really fucking mean.”
“Shit, sorry, yes. That’s a yes,“ she clambers to get Clayton standing again and kisses him desperately.
“I love you arcilla, I’m sorry it took me a while to realize I never stopped,” she says between kisses, not wanting to stop now.
Clayton laughs and pulls away enough to put the ring back on, “it was worth the wait.”
This time Clayton pulls her into a kiss, savoring the moment he imagined for months and months.
#clayton keller#clayton keller fic#arizona coyotes#arizona coyotes fic#nhl#nhl imagines#hockey imagines#hockey fics#nhl stories#nhl fics
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A few years ago, I read a Luca fanfiction on Wattpad titled Sink Or Swim, and let me just say, it's officially the 2nd Luca movie in my eyes. It is honestly one of the best fanfics I've ever read.
In my opinion, most fan fiction I've read doesn't feel like the show and/or movie. What I mean is it doesn't give me the same vibe, when I read it I don't picture it as something that could happen, but something that they wish could happen.
Of course, I know that the idea of a fan fiction isn't that everything should be 100% accurate, and I get that, but most of the time, everything just feels so out of character to the point where the only resemblance I see between the fanfic and the show and/or movie are the characters.
But even then, sometimes the characters just don't seem like themselves. I can understand if you're new to a Fandom or if the fanfic is supposed to be an AU where the characters are supposed to act differently, but if not, I just find it a little hard to read.
I'm not trying to make anyone who does this feel bad at all, but when I find a fanfic with a few or all the characters acting differently I just find it a little hard to believe or imagine it happening.
When I first read Sink Or Swim, it truly felt like I was reading the script for a second movie. It is so beautifully written, full of life and creativity, so much so that I couldn't stop at the first chapter.
The plot is so creative and original, truly the perfect hook. The plot is, (and I quote)
"After a whole school year, Luca and Giulia are finally returning to Portorroso. During those nine months, Luca had developed a super-huge-enormous secret, and he's written about it dozens of times in his daily journal. He takes it home, determined to hide the contents from everyone–especially Alberto. But Alberto is stubborn, and as soon as he suspects something is fishy, he won't let up.
Wanna know the worst part?
They're sharing a bedroom."
Really makes you want to read, doesn't it?
I love how the fanfic follows the same principles as any book and/or movie. The sequence of events lines up perfectly with each other and you can understand how and why something is happening.
It has so much feeling and you can really visualize it happening. Leah made sure to keep the same dynamic that the characters have in the movie, everything they say and do actually feels like some they’d say and do.
I love how she made it feel like you’re reading a movie and the different point of views make for perfect dramatic irony. This story is wholesome, heartwarming, funny, sad, delightful, and most importantly, Luberto 😌.
I don’t think I’ll ever find a Luca fan fiction that can top Sink or Swim.
@toffee-to-be you’ve created a masterpiece.
#luberto#fanfic#wattpad#wholesome#opinion#luca movie#luca paguro#alberto scorfano#giulia marcovaldo#underdog#story#blog
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Niall Horan and YN Tomlinson Take a Friendship Test
Our Story Masterlist
Summary: Niall Horan and YN Tomlinson take the ultimate friendship test. From sharing their first impressions and stanning over each other to bonding over a minute-long hug and mirroring each other's sweet dance moves, these two prove that all some friendships need is lots of love and laughter.
Warning: swearing
“I’m gonna ask you about your friendship with YN” A woman’s voice speaks to Niall from behind the camera.
“Oh how long have ya got?” Niall sarcastically says with a small chuckle.
“Who?” YN questions with a serious expression and Niall’s famous laugh is heard from behind the camera.
“We met when I auditioned for The X Factor..and I was put into a band…One Direction with her brother Louis..and she came on tour with us and now we’re the best of friends”
“Niall was in a band with my brother…not sure if you’ve heard of ‘em One Direction…yeah and..Niall begged me to go on tour wiv ‘em to style his hair..such a diva” YN joked whilst trying to not laugh at Niall shaking his head at her, from where he was standing behind set.
“It’s because of me…she’s so famous..nothing to do with her brother or boyfriend” Niall joins in on the teasing.
“Seriously now…Niall’s like a brother to me…he’s my best friend, he’s just so funny and he’s there for you no matter what and…he’s been there for me through some of my darkest times..and I’ll always be grateful to him”
“YN…she’s one of the strongest people I know..even when she’s been goin’ through some tough times..she always wants to know how everyone else is and if they’re okay…she’s one in a million that girl”
Niall and YN were instructed to give each other compliments in the next part.
As they're both standing opposite each other with their little notebooks and pens in their hands, Niall tries to peek at what YN is writing. “Don’t look at it” YN protests and hides her notebook away from Niall’s prying eyes.
“I just wanna know how funny you’re being” Niall defends himself.
“I’m not bein’ funny at all”
“Yeah you fuckin’ are” Niall teases “She’s writing a massive list” Niall continues to laugh as YN flips the page over to write on another page.
“I’m writin’ in big letters”
“She paid me to be her friend” Niall continues with his jokes.
“Yeah..yeah oh fookin’...if anyone’s payin’ anybody for anythin’..you’re givin’ me some fookin’ money” YN’s Doncaster accent is heard making Niall chuckle and continue to write on the paper in front of him.
“I love your sense of humour..’cause you just laugh at everythin’ even if it’s not funny..and it makes me feel funny” YN compliments Niall.
“I like how creative you are..you’ve gone from touring with the band..to running your own business..and I’m proud of you and you should be proud of yourself”
“Okay..movin’ on before I cry” YN talks “You always smell amazin’ every time I see you”
“Thanks..I’ll take that one considering who you sleep next to every night smells like heaven” Niall responds making YN laugh “I love how strong and determined you are…like most people would give up..but you just keep going and I admire you for that..so yeah” Niall compliments YN again.
“Aww Niall…stoooop..you’re gonna make me cry” YN playfully scolds but inside feels her heart melt at the words spoken by her best friend “I think you’re an amazin’ songwriter…and a fookin’ boss on the guitar..and I love your music”
“She’s a massive Niall fan…I’ve always been her favourite”
“He’s not lyin’” YN said with a flick of her hair, causing them both to laugh.
Niall and YN were instructed to hug each other for one minute in the next part.
Niall wrapped his arms around YN’s shoulder whilst her arms went around his back like they had done many of times over the years.
“Oh he smells greeeat” YN’s voice is heard.
“You smell good too”
“Thank you”
“I like your shoes too”
YN begin’s to sing ‘I like the way you talk, I like the things you wear, I want your number tattooed on my arm in ink, I swear” whilst her and Niall swayed back and forth. Niall began singing the lyrics “Watermelon sugar, high, Watermelon sugar, high, Watermelon sugar high, Watermelon sugar”.
YN’s giggling is heard as the pair continue to sing together “Why that song?..Of all the songs you could have chosen”
Niall and YN were instructed to mirror each other’s dance moves in the next part.
Some upbeat music was heard playing, Niall starts by pointing his hand up to the ceiling and shaking his hips slightly, and YN begins to copy his movement. Niall then abruptly points to the floor and leans down, and points back up again into his starting position. Then move his fingers in a circle around his body “This is us goin’ ‘round the world”. And after a few more arm movements, jumps to the side and begins to imitate Beyonce’s Single Ladies dance. “Your turn”.
YN begins to jump around laughing and shows everyone her impression of how back up dancers dance, which Niall copies her every move whilst they laugh infectiously together “Do you know wa I mean?” she asks Niall as she continues to hop around. Next, YN decides to swing her around her head and tell Niall to “Giddy up, giddy up” as they gallop around the space.
“What the fuck just ‘appened?” Niall asks as YN nudges his shoulder playfully.
“Welcome to the life of being a Tomlinson” YN defends her behaviour.
Niall and YN were instructed to harmonise with each other in the next part.
“Do you know what’s so annoyin’…she can actually sing so this isn’t even gonna be funny”
“Ahhhhhhh” Niall and YN are heard harmonising together, before harmonising happy birthday and YN made Niall laugh.
“You fucked it for me” Niall laughed.
“Nobody, nobody” YN began singing and dancing at the same time.
“Nobody can drag me down” Niall joins in, before singing his own song “Nice to meet ya”
“what’s ya name, let me treat ya..to a drink” Niall and YN continue to sing together whilst clapping and waving their hands.
Niall and YN were instructed to perform trust falls in the next part
“It’s called a trust fall” a woman’s voice behind the camera spoke.
“Oh fook” and “Okay fuck” Niall and YN spoke at the same time.
“What if I don’t catch you?” YN panicked.
“Well..ya better help me up when I fall” Niall teased and laughed.
Niall turned around so his back faced YN whilst she held her arms out ready to catch the brunette lad “Come one...come on I’ve got you” she reassure s him. Niall falls back gracefully and YN just about manages to hold him up for a couple of seconds “Okay..get up now before I drop ya”.
YN prepares herself to fall into Niall’s arms as she turns her back to him “Don’t fookin’ drop me now Horan”
“Just trust me will ya Mini Tommo” Niall uses her nickname from when she toured with the boys. YN delicately falls back into Niall’s arms as he catches her small frame easily in his arms.
“Do you trust me?” Niall turns to ask YN as she stands back up.
“I trust you with my whole fookin’ heart”
“Aww come ‘ere ya softy” Niall teases as he pulls YN into his arms and squeezes her tight “She’s like the sister I never had”
“Horan and Tommo are in town” Niall and YN say together as they sway from side to side.
Tag List: (let me know if you would like to be added) @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats @harrysbbyh0ney fanfictioncafe lilfreakjez jerseygirlinca iamahallucinationnn
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x you#harrystyles#harry styles fanfic#one direction#harry styles x fem!reader#one direction fandom#harry styles imagines#harry styles imagine#harry styles fic#harry styles x tomlinson!reader#harry styles writing#harry styles blurb#harry styles series#harry styles series masterlist#harry x yn#harry x you#harry x reader#harry x y/n#harry styles x yn#harry styles masterlist#1dff#harry 1d#1d era#1d fandom#1d imagines#1d imagine
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Hello! So this is not quite an ask but THANK YOU for doing god's work of injecting some actual nuance, defending bolin (among other things), critiquing the comics, and all the plot holes/things that just don't make sense which become glaringly obvious if one thinks about any aspect for more than two seconds (lol but you know this already duh) and am only annoyed I did not stumble upon this blog sooner, since I am so done with this show (but also I keeping at it like the scabs). Also, your art is delightful! If you still require an ask, do you perchance write fanfic? (it's possible you might have mentioned it but sometimes I can't read lol)
Have a good day!
hello, and thank you! also it’s funny that defending bolin is the first thing you list because I thought I made it pretty clear that I think his character is direly poorly-written and that I do not care for him. but… you’re welcome I guess? but yes obviously critiquing the comics and imbuing nuance and all of that I will definitely gladly take credit for. and thank you for liking my art! i do occasionally write fanfic, but i’ve only ever shown it to my friends and never actually posted it anywhere, so functionally, my answer would be no. i have debated posting it in the past, but idk, i don’t think that would be a good idea. maybe someday i’ll snap tho who knows.
as for your other ask…
Also because I clicked on the ask button before I had a brain fart (so if this would come off a bit deranged for posting an ask right after the first my apologies), I also want to mention the commentary that Iroh being 'everyone's favourite sexist' is gold because we just gloss over that and no one ever seems to mention that scene. Another thing about atla is that the reason given for Zuko's constant internal struggle and conflict is because he's descended from the previous avatar and the fire lord but hello, Azula?? Did Ursa have an affair now?? Isn't she just as worthy of redemption, or the fact she's just as abused anyhoo ok im done
I mean I’m assuming by “that scene” you mean the one with june, but tbh his misogyny isn’t relegated to simply one unpalatable scene. it’s reflected in how he treats azula (versus zuko) across the show. and I know that zuko is softer and more amenable than azula, and he has demonstrated a desire to do good that azula hasn’t, but it’s also quite troubling that iroh just writes off his fourteen year old niece as a lost cause when she is also the sibling who most resembles him. and he somehow just can’t seem to understand that she is worthy of the same empathy and compassion and understanding as zuko is, that playing favorites like this isn’t good or normal. and I actually think that azula has it way worse than iroh, both because she’s a girl and because azulon seemed to love iroh conditionally (despite clearly not feeling the same about ozai), whereas ozai’s love for azula is incredibly conditional and does not exempt her from his violence. but you know. her hysterical wandering womb is outta control she needs to go down she cant be trusted she’s a sickopath!!!! like. ok old man.
as for your next point, I do think that what iroh says about zuko’s ancestry reflecting the ideological battle within him is fully bullshit, but I do reconcile that by interpreting iroh’s claims not as what he truly believes, but as a rhetorical point he thinks might get through to zuko. because he’s really run the gamut of wisdom and guidance, some of it even being contradictory, just in an attempt to pierce through zuko’s thick, stubborn skull. and it does pay off, eventually, but it takes ages to get there. like how much do you wanna bet his first approach was to just straight up be like “your father is an abuser and you shouldn’t adhere to his dogmas.” and then when that didn’t work he started getting creative with it. and like, the reason it gets through to zuko isn’t even because roku was his great grandfather, but because he was ursa’s grandfather. and realizing that he too can be good and stand up for what he believes in, like her, his true role model, is his ultimate takeaway from that lesson. but I really do think by that point iroh’s rhetorical strategy was really to just throw vaguely pertinent metaphors at the wall to see what sticks.
#traegern#asks#iroh#zuko#azula#iroh&zuko#azula&iroh#azula&ozai#ursa&zuko#analysis#also thank u for calling it ‘fanfic’ and not ‘fic’ this is rly a pet peeve of mine#fiction????? just any fiction????????#(i do also write ‘fic’ in this sense but like. that’s a completely different question)
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hard to break the habit ((g)i-dle yuqi, minnie)
(smut, public sex, degradation, choking, biting, squirting, car sex, anal, threesome, strap-ons, sadomasochism, mentions of blood, sex tapes, fluff, 22k words, technically a companion fic to this but you don’t have to read that one first)
Here’s the thing about this disaster, this whole mess with Minnie and Yuqi - you can’t even go for denial. Oh, it’s all documented: you’ve got all this picture proof. Photos, videos, hidden folders on computers - you’ve got Yuqi’s pink hair all over it, Minnie’s black bangs, skin on skin on skin-
“Wow,” says Yuqi, in front of Minnie’s laptop, with Minnie half in her lap and half in yours. “You’re actually really photogenic, now that I’m looking at all this. It’s kind of crazy.”
“Thanks,” you say. “I’m glad that’s your main takeaway from our sex tapes.”
It’s so crude. You’d never thought yourself the type for it: all the pornographic filth, the focus, the filmography. If you were a more creatively inclined person, you could probably find some art in it, but that’s not your style and you won’t bother. Every video is hard evidence that you three’ll permanently ruin each other one day, if you keep going on like this.
“You know what my main takeaway is?” Minnie asks, a proposition in the way she looks between the two of you. There’s a danger to it, but - well, you can’t really bring yourself to give a fuck.
Yuqi glances at her, lips twitching: there’s a smile she’s suppressing. “What?”
“I think we’d be really great in a sequel.”
-
Well, if you wanna talk main players, settings and scenes, you should know that this is how it all begins:
It’s a weekend - isn’t it always? - and there’s a burlesque club - that one’s a little rarer - but Club Cosmic’s a classic, a stage pointedly set for debauchery. Call it a breeding ground for that kind of shit, or something like that. You’re behind the bar. You’re always a little removed from the action. You’re a professional, but then there’s nights like this.
“Fancy meeting you here,” you tell Jeon Soyeon, as she hops up on a barstool.
“I didn’t know you were working tonight." Soyeon's unaffected by the patented customer service charm - you’ve been friends for long enough that you know all of each other’s tricks. “Is it usually this packed?”
“Yep.” You’ve worked at Club Cosmic as a bartender for a few months now, and there’s always something for everyone, that’s their selling point: there’s the scantily clad women, and then there’s the music. “Saturdays. What are you doing here?”
“My band?” Soyeon waves a hand behind her vaguely, like it’ll somehow summon the rest of her bandmates. “We got booked here because our keyboardist is friends with Lisa.”
“Oh, congrats!” Saturdays, like you said: it’s Club Cosmic’s version of an open mic night, where they let outside performers take the stage. You really have to impress the manager to get a gig here - or at least exercise strategic friendships. Lisa’s the new rookie choreographer, but she’s brilliant, she’s got pull here. Hey, that’s showbiz: all about connections.
“That’s so cool,” you say, and you mean it. “I can’t believe I haven’t seen your band play yet.” Soyeon’s busy, you’re busy: the stars never quite seem to align.
Soyeon’s lips tilt. “Well,” she says, and they’re all aligning now. “I hope we don’t disappoint.”
-
You get swept up in the rush of the night, easily. The music’s great, the club’s dark, the people are chatty and every woman wants something from you, and not just drinks. It’s the whole himbo thing you’ve got going on, Soyeon tells you, and frequently - you just seem dumb as shit, she’d said, and not meanly. Like, so clueless, but in a very well-intentioned way. It’s very compelling, to the right people.
Is that a compliment? you’d said, at the time.
I’d take it as one, Soyeon replied, so you did.
“I swear I don’t mind filling in.” When you check back in with Soyeon, there’s a remarkably pretty blonde girl sitting beside her, barely loud enough to be heard over the music. “Plus,” the blonde girl’s saying, “my boyfriend’s never seen me play before, so for once she did me a favor by being such a flake.”
Onstage, one of the regular performers is charming the crowd, doing some routine with a chair, a blazer she’s peeling off. She strips - the crowd goes wild. Soyeon notices you before the blonde does, says, “Hey, let me get your opinion on something.”
“Sure.”
Soyeon ducks her head, leans in to combat the whooping audience. “Purely hypothetical, here,” she says. “If you were in a band, and you had a member of your band who ditches a ton of your gigs, would you kick them out?”
You’d never be in a band because your musical talent is nonexistent, but that’s neither here nor there. “Well,” you say, genuinely considering. “It depends. Are they my friend? Are they ditching gigs for a good reason? If that’s the case, then I’d probably let it slide.”
Soyeon laughs, like you’re predictable. “That’s sweet,” says the blonde girl, tipping forward. “Hey, you go to our college, right? I’m-”
“Oh my god.”
Like it’s nothing - like she’s not interrupting a damn thing, and if she were, she’d be completely justified - a girl plops herself right into the seat next to Soyeon. “Literally,” she pronounces, smacking both hands palm-down on the bar like she’s readying for war, “the only reason we got the gig is because of her connections - or what-the-fuck-ever - and she can’t even be bothered to show up?”
This is obviously related to Soyeon’s hypothetical - and this girl obviously disagrees with you, vehemently. That’d be enough to strike up a debate, but there’s one thing that’s keeping you from words, from a fight waiting to happen, and it’s the only point more obvious than your conflicting opinions-
See, she’s a huffy whirlwind of pink hair and wild hand gestures and this smoky perfume that carries even across the bar - and she’s unbelievably, insanely, mind-numbingly beautiful. You’d argue your position, but you can’t even speak. You shouldn’t stare but you’re staring. She’s all dark eyes, sparkly eyeshadow, eyebrows furrowed ferociously - she’s got the face of an angel, the cadence of a goddamn chainsmoker - she jams one of her nails straight to the lip of the counter, parts her pink-glossed lips-
“She needs to die,” the girl says. “The next time I see her, I’m beating the shit out of her.”
She’s got this vicious edge that shouldn’t be nearly as captivating as it is. She’s being loud, overdramatic, aggressive, antagonistic. She’s clearly a little batshit, and it’s so fucking stupid - but you’re kind of obsessed on sight.
“Chill,” says Soyeon, admirably unfazed. “I know you’re a lunatic, but dial it back a little.”
“Fine, okay.” The pink-haired girl rolls her eyes up to the ceiling, throat bobbing as she swallows: you’re caught on every single move. “Death is too far. She just needs to get kicked out of the band, stat.”
“You think you could beat the shit out of her?” the blonde asks, mouth in a delicate curl. “Please be serious.”
“I am.” The pink-haired girl leans her elbows back on the counter, suddenly perfectly smug. There’s an visible arrogance to her that shouldn’t be charming and somehow is anyway. “I could do a lot of things to her.”
“Oh, gross-“
Without any warning - and you think there should be, alarms wailing, lights flashing; no one should be expected to face her without at least some prior tip-off - the girl shifts on her stool, and zeroes in on you with sniper-shot precision.
“Eavesdropping is fucking rude,” the girl says. “I should report you to your boss.”
“Uh,“ you say, because she’s so hot head-on that your brain forgets how to string together a sentence.
“Jesus Christ, Yuqi.” Soyeon swivels on her stool. “He’s not eavesdropping. I was having a conversation with him and then you just barged in, so if anyone’s being rude, it’s you.”
“Oh,” says the girl - Yuqi - and she’s delightfully, wholly unapologetic. She shrugs a shoulder at you, unperturbed. “My bad, man.”
“No problem,” you say, and you don’t know how anyone in the room is looking at anything but her.
“I wouldn’t have actually reported you to your boss.” You’re stuck on those night-sky eyes, the alluring fix of her mouth, the way her lip gloss complements the pink of her hair like she’s straight out of a painting, a pointed example of color theory. “I’m not a snitch. Just - you know, making threats is pretty fun sometimes. All the drama. Hey, you’re kind of cute - has anyone ever told you that before?”
You’re not blushing - you don’t do that - but it’s sort of close. You can’t help it; she’s just such a production, the hair and the mouth and the attitude.
“Oh my god,” mumbles the blonde to Yuqi, hands over her eyes, appalled. “Be normal, I’m begging you.”
“Sure,” you say to Yuqi, miraculously keeping your cool. “I’ve heard it once or twice.”
Yuqi’s very conspicuously eyeing your biceps in your shirt. “Do you work out a lot? You look like you work out.”
It’d be flirtatious in any other context - and maybe it still is, in this one - but there’s this matter-of-fact way that she says it that makes it slightly hilarious. You don’t know where you’re going but at least you’re getting somewhere. “Yeah, pretty often.”
“Hmm,” says Yuqi, jutting her bottom lip out approvingly. “Okay. Sick.”
“Yuqi.” The blonde is actually starting to flush pink - you’ve never seen someone feel second-hand embarrassment so acutely. “Please.”
“I’m not doing anything,” says Yuqi, and inclines her head at you, assessing, appraising - she doesn’t smile, more so nods like she’s checked for flaws and found you serviceable. “I’m being super normal. You’re cool,” she says to you, apropos of nothing.
“You don’t know me,” you say, hypnotized.
It’s all in the background - the previous performers on the stage wrapping up their number, Soyeon hopping off her stool, trying to corral both Yuqi and the blonde, the lights and the drinks and the vibe. That’s all faded, and for those few moments, it’s just her: Yuqi’s hair spills over her shoulders like water, and she’s watching you like you’re a challenge to be taken, like you’re something she wants to possess and own and ruin.
(Oh, you’re not nearly as clueless as you seem, on the surface; you’d like to see her try.)
“Nope,” says Yuqi, unbothered. Her mouth tilts steeply, finally, finds a smirk like a weapon. “But I think I’d like to.”
Her fingertips skim the counter. She’s got on ridiculous acrylic nails, like Soyeon, but only some of them are intact; she’s missing one on the thumb on her left hand, missing more on her right: the pointer finger, the middle, the ring. There’s something about her stare that makes you think she’d like to rip you apart, if given the chance; she’d dig in her claws and start tearing, if she ever got you alone.
“Break a leg,” you say, slightly breathless - and now you know exactly where you’re going.
“Thanks,” Yuqi says, the flash of her teeth like fangs, and it hits you like oncoming traffic: she’s gonna get everything she wants from you and then some.
-
Time slips out of order, or maybe that’s just a cliché. You’re behind the bar, and Yuqi’s center stage, shadow and light and her fingers all over this red electric guitar, her lips pressed to the microphone-
The songs are good, all of them. There’s Soyeon on the drums, and the blonde on the keys, and two other girls, both black-haired and gorgeous, on the bass, on another guitar - but the only thing you can look at is her.
It’s that damn outfit she’s in - black and white, patterned, showing off her taut, toned midriff, her sharp collarbones - and it’s the way she moves, like sex itself, a suggestion just in the swing of her hips and the clap of her knee-high boots across the stage - but more than anything, it’s that voice. You’re caught, shellshocked. You’re not even sure you’re doing your job properly. Yuqi’s singing, and it’s a siren calling to shore, or a spell, or a succubus - it’s unreal, the way she sounds, like you could listen to her forever.
Time gets away from you, and Yuqi’s eyes meet yours, glimmering darkly under stage lights.
(You’re not fucking her yet, but you both already know how this ends.)
-
It all happens so fast - everything’s fracturing, fragmentary - one minute you’re staring at Yuqi onstage and the next she’s leaning over the bar, neck and tits all sweat-slick, gaze raking up and down your body, straight-razor sharp.
“You work here,” she says. There’s more music onstage, more people crowding the bar. You’ve got colleagues who’ll cover for you. You’ve got time.
“Yeah,” you say, even though it’s not a question.
“Great.” Yuqi moves like the music’s patterned beneath her skin, a bass line and a beat and a melody. “Then you know a good place we can fuck and not get caught.”
You just met her, and there’s zero reason this should be happening - you’ve been immune to beautiful women who’ve wanted to fuck you before, you’ve kept your composure, you’ve been professional - but Yuqi’s looking at you like she’s already won this game, gun to your temple, knife to your throat. She’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, but it’s more than that: it’s the danger, the recklessness. She’ll send you off a cliff and laugh when you hit the bottom.
“Yeah,” you say, again, throat desert-dry. Well, it’s a risk you’re willing to take. “I guess I do.”
-
There’s a single-stall employees-only bathroom that’s always occupied, but you two somehow get lucky.
Yuqi backs up against the counter, tips her chin up at you like she’s cocking a rifle. She’s breathing a little unevenly, wrought with anticipation - she’s trying to hide it, affecting nonchalance. “So?” she asks, licks her bottom lip. Your fingers find the bare strip of skin at her waist between her top and her skirt. “Do you need me to give you an instruction manual, or you think you can figure out how to fuck me all on your own?”
She says it boredly, like she’s trying to go for icy bitchiness, but everything she says is so hot, in every sense of the word - angry and cutting and pissed off, a fire striking in the kindling of her irises. Your grip tightens on her waist and she doesn’t flinch a bit.
“Drop the attitude,” you snap, so harsh that you surprise yourself.
Yuqi’s eyebrows fly up; you’re not the only one startled. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” All of a sudden, it’s like you realize how much smaller she is than you - she talks a big game, but she’s got nothing to back it up. “You’re the one who was desperate enough to get a random stranger to fuck you in the bathroom, so drop the attitude or you’re not going to get fucked at all.”
You’re not even sure where the words come from. You’ve had girlfriends before, but all the sex has been sweet, sentimental, loving - you don’t know where the cruel edge to your tone comes from, only that it tosses kerosene to the fire behind Yuqi’s eyes, catches flame at her parted lips. You’re mean and she likes it. If you’re rough, then she’ll-
It’s like you’re a man possessed. In one smooth, deliberate motion you ruck up her tiny skirt around her waist and brush your knuckles against the crotch of her panties, and-
You’ve barely done anything. You’ve touched her waist and you snapped at her. And Yuqi’s so, so wet.
“You,” Yuqi says, vague with a point, a purpose - like oh: you’re about to be more than I bargained for.
“Me,” you agree, and watch her grin turn devilish.
-
Yuqi doesn’t drop the attitude. No, actually, she seems to take your order as a challenge and nothing more, because-
“Jesus fuck,” says Yuqi, like it offends her, her hand on your cock over your pants - when she squeezes, she’s not gentle, and then she’s going for the zipper. “You’re this hard already? I’m not even naked.”
“Look who’s talking.” The moment she gets your cock out, you grab her wrist in your hand, pin it back to the counter. It’s taking all your effort to not go wild on her right now - to not flip her around, rip her underwear, shove your dick deep in her pussy. “You’re creaming your fucking panties just at the thought of my cock inside of you, Yuqi.”
Yuqi’s fierce eyes snap up to yours, cheeks flushing angrily, prettily. “Shut your fucking mouth.”
“Oh, are you gonna make me?”
In a second Yuqi’s fisting the front of your shirt between her fingers - faintly, you register that one of her ridiculous fake nails hooks against your sternum and scrapes, smarting - but that all falls away, because she’s kissing you, and then falls even further, because there’s a much more prevalent pain at your mouth when Yuqi’s teeth sink into your bottom lip, hard.
You almost choke on your breath from the unexpected hurt - you can’t help it - and pull back, heart pounding. There’s something in this: the high, the adrenaline. It hurts - and you don’t think you’ve ever been harder in your life. “What the fuck?”
“What?” asks Yuqi, smile cunning. She’s gorgeous, she’s evil; her fingers twitch like there’s a lot more damage she could be doing.
“You bit me,” you say, incredulous. There’s the metallic taste of blood in your mouth, a red smear on the back of Yuqi’s hand as she presses it to your bottom lip, draws it back in interest. “You actually fucking bit me.”
“Yeah,” replies Yuqi, unabashed. “I’m aware, thanks.”
“I’m bleeding.”
“Great.”
Oh, she’s just begging to rile you up: you can see it in her eyes, in the way her focus drops from your face to your cock, circles back around. It’s a game, for her: to see how far she can push you. To see what you’ll do when she’s got you at the edge.
You’re seething, you’re seeing red; you won’t mind showing her. “You fucking - dumb fucking whore, Yuqi-”
“What?”
You rip her panties down to her knees - there’s her cunt, pretty and pink and dripping wet - and then you’ve got two fingers inside of her, just like that, and the throaty, stunned gasp you get from Yuqi - the way she buckles under you against the bathroom counter - is like you’ve already got her neck between your hands. There’s power here, there’s fury - it’s in your veins, thrumming, it’s in her eyes, her ridiculously tight pussy, dripping-
“I’m not one of your little toys who’s gonna just let you push them around, darling,” you say, and it’s almost a taunt; you’ve never heard yourself like this, callous and cruel even to your own ears. Your other hand slides down the toned curve of her back. “If you act up, you’re gonna get what you earn.”
Yuqi’s chest is heaving, teeth dug hard into her lip, trying to choke down her moans, trying to wrestle back the upper hand. It’s a lost cause: her cunt’s leaking all over your fingers, your wrist. She’s fucking soaked - and there’s all that unadulterated rage in her eyes, irate that you’re the one in control, that she very clearly loves it-
And then just as you draw your fingers out of her pussy, your hand comes down hard on her ass.
Yuqi shrieks - or she would, but your slick hand clamps down over her mouth, the other one ravaging her ass, groping, slapping, getting whatever you can. She’s wild, smacking your shoulder with an open palm, trying to get you to let her go, but then her fingers sneak under the collar of your shirt and-
A stinging pain, right across your collarbone. Immediately, you lose your grip on her. “Shit, you fucking-”
Yuqi takes advantage of your shock, slips out from where you’d had her pinned against the counter. You turn only halfway, struck, and in a second flat she’s shoved you roughly against the counter, the lip digging into your lower back. She’s breathing unevenly, staring - she’ll let you break the lull.
“You scratched me,” you say, astonished. You’re probably bleeding again. “You psycho bitch.”
“Yep,” says Yuqi, simply, pale pink hair a disaster and her underwear tangled at her ankles. You haven’t even gotten your cock in her and she’s already a goddamn mess. “I did.”
“You’re fucking crazy.”
“And you’re the one dying to fuck me.” Yuqi’s hands are curled into tight fists. Her skirt’s shoved unceremoniously up around her waist, and you can see how wet she is - her cunt’s glistening, caught up in the overhead lights. Her thighs gleam with sweat. “What does that say about you?”
It’s all a game you’re playing, in the end - you’re at opposite ends of the battlefield, waiting to see who makes the first move, mapping out weapons, weaknesses. She talks like she’s ten feet tall and she’s tiny. She’s got a mouth on her like she’s bulletproof and you could probably snap her clean in half.
“I think that says I’m gonna get exactly what I want,” you say, and then you shove her chest-first up against the wall, and slide your cock right into her pussy.
Oh, there’s no hiding anything now - Yuqi’s moaning between her stuttered, hiccuped breaths, crying out when you smack at her ass, then at her thighs - it’s so loud, and anyone passing by is going to know - so you might as well take it all the way. Talk about possession, ruination; you’ll show her the definitions, mark them into all that fair, smooth skin, carving like it’s marble. It’s what she wants, what she won’t admit out loud. You’ll make her, in time.
“Look at you,” you growl; you’re barely keeping it together. You’ll never get over this pussy - so tight, and so warm, and so wet. “Moaning like a bitch in heat around my cock. Yuqi, if this is what you wanted-”
“Fuck you,” snaps Yuqi, and jerks her elbow back, sending the sharp point of it right into your ribs. “Shut the fuck up. Don’t talk, useless dipshit-” Her voice breaks off on a whimper, and she’s bucking her cunt right back on your cock - it’s violent, and it must hurt - but then you realize that that’s precisely the point. You hand finds her hair, wraps it up into your fist, tugs hard; you’ll give in. “Just fuck me. Just fuck me.”
Yeah, you’ll give her what she wants, too; it’s so convenient that you just happen to want the exact same thing.
There’s no room for patience, for sweetness - it’s all about cut corners and the ungodly vice grip of her pussy, how Yuqi fucks you like there’s a threat in it, how you’re fucking her just the same - call the blood in your mouth foreplay, the red welts forming on your collarbone setting the mood; you bring your hand down hard on her hip just to see her tremble, trying to do anything but admit how much she’s living for this kind of fucking: rough, ruthless, mean.
“No, I know what you want.” Her shoulder hits the wall; her foot in her platform heel connects with your shin. You tug her head back so you can see her expression, make an example of a demon. “You just want me to cum all over that pretty little face.”
There’s that split second of panic, cracking Yuqi wide open - it’s written all over her features, in how her cunt is gushing around your cock, so tight - she’s so close, and you’ll take it as far as she wants to go. “What? Wait - no, don’t-”
“Is that what you need, Yuqi?” You’ve got your hair in your fist, and you’re pounding her cunt like you’re trying to tear her in two. “Me, cumming all over your fucking face - in all this hair-” You yank her hair harder to make a point, and Yuqi sobs, can’t hold it back. “And make you walk out there, covered in my fucking cum - drag you out there in front of everyone, so they all know that you’re just a worthless fucking cumrag for my cock-”
“You sadistic motherfucker,” Yuqi spits, but it comes out strangled between her raspy moans. She turns her head halfway - the tears glittering in her fiery eyes is like victory, like your name all in lights. “You fucking asshole. I’ll kill you. If you fucking cum on my face and make me go out there, I’ll-”
She never actually finishes her warning, because her back arches, and she’s cumming all over your cock.
“Well,” you say, and you’ll let it go: it all turns out the same, anyway. “Maybe next time, baby.”
And then you pull out of her and spill your load all down her creamy thighs.
For a second, it’s like it all tunnels - you forget where you are, who you are, there’s a girl in front of you and she’s exhausted and stunning and devious, and there’s your cum dribbling down her pale skin - and then clarity returns, and Yuqi’s slumped against the wall, her head tipped sideways so her cheek rests against your shoulder. She’s breathing hard - there’s music outside, somewhere far off - everything’s wet and hot and woozy-
Yuqi huffs out an airy noise, and your eyes flash right to hers.
There’s that fire, sparking, bordering an inferno. For a second, you wait with bated breath: will she scream at you, will she slap you, reprimand you, tell you that you went too far-
It’s none of that, in reality: you’ve picked up on all her signs just like she wanted you to. Yuqi’s head tips back against you, her eyes sliding closed. There’s all that tension between you two, pulling taut, snapping, tying up its ropes. Your hand closes around her waist, gentle - you’re past leaving bruises, here. You’ll mind your edges. You know when a moment falls shut.
“God,” she says, finally, and then she grins so widely you swear she bursts the bathroom lighting, her fingers sliding between yours. “You - holy fuck.”
“Holy fuck,” you agree, spent, euphoric, and you know right then: you’ll never be able to get over this.
-
It’s weird, how easy it is: you grab some paper towels, help Yuqi clean the cum off the backs of her thighs. She inspects herself in the mirror, swivels from side to side. There’s absolutely no reason she should’ve let you - a complete stranger - do half the things you just did to her, but at least that goes both ways.
“Your tattoo’s really cute,” you say, surprised.
“I’m a really cute person,” says Yuqi, pulling her skimpy panties back up around her hips, eyes glittering like gunmetal.
“Uh,” you say - it’s not the first word you’d choose.
“I’m adorable,” reiterates Yuqi, tossing her hair, and she has this loud, brash way of saying things that makes unexpected laughter bubble up from your chest. You’re a little delirious. It’s to be expected.
Yuqi lifts an eyebrow at you. “Are you laughing at me?”
“That was the most insane sex I’ve ever had,” you admit.
Yuqi smiles, suddenly cheeky - and, fine, you see the cute thing, now that she’s not fucking you like she wants you dead. “Honestly?” She shrugs her thin shoulders. “I have a lot of intense sex, but - yeah. You really…” She waves a hand up and down her body - there are the red handprints forming on her thighs, hips, ass. “You did a number on me, dude.”
“You too,” you say, charmed. There’s your bleeding shoulder, your raw bottom lip from where she’d bitten you; you’ll probably wake up with bruises from her shoving you into the counter. “Dude.”
“Everything was…” Yuqi flips you a thumbs-up. “Good? Not too rough?”
(Oh, here’s the kicker: she may fuck you like she’s a demon trying to steal your soul, but that’s all over now; she’s sweet, she’s genuine. You never do this: you’re not someone who has sex with strangers, and not in public, and not like that. There’s no reason she should be as comfortable with you as she clearly seems to be.)
“Good,” you confirm, mesmerized by her face; her dark eyeshadow’s a little smudged, eyeliner messy. It adds to the whole seductive rock star look like it might’ve been pre-planned. “We can work out limits in the future, yeah? Set boundaries.”
Yuqi latches onto it like you figured she would. “Oh,” she says, voice already steeped in ridicule - she can’t pass up giving you shit. “In the future.”
“Uh-huh.”
Yuqi gathers her hair up off her neck, lets it drop, pleased. “You want me so bad.”
“No, I had sex with you because I feel no desire towards you whatsoever.”
Yuqi laughs right before she drives her fist into your shoulder - but it’s too late, by then. She’s got the most gorgeous laugh you’ve ever heard: rich and raspy, so full it engulfs the room, drowns you two in it - and she laughs with her whole body, too, shoulders shaking, head tossed back. She laughs and you’re a fucking goner.
“God damn,” you say, grinning, pressing your hand to your shoulder. That’s another bruise waiting to happen. “You’re so aggressive.”
“Right back at you,” Yuqi says, and she’s got a point, she’s got several. It’s a score to settle at a later date - you’ve been here long enough. Yuqi taps your wrist, gestures to the door, her intent unspoken: time to face the music.��
-
See, you’re not expecting to get out entirely unscathed, but you’re not expecting two of Club Cosmic’s veteran performers to just be waiting out there for you two, wrapped up in lingerie and silk robes, guarding the door like they’re particularly slutty angels and it’s Judgment Day.
“Oh my god,” you say. Yuqi, to her credit, looks undaunted - you have no idea how she’s pulling it off. “You guys are creeps. Were you eavesdropping the whole time?”
“We weren’t eavesdropping,” says Bona, tucking her long curtain of dark hair behind her ears. She’s not an inch over five-four and even in heels manages to look delicate. “You were the ones who decided to have very noisy and disruptive sex in the employee bathroom.”
“Yeah,” says Eunseo, leveling you with a very pointed glare. “I have to pee.”
It’s less than convincing. “Right.”
“Okay, fun,” says Yuqi, breaking any sort of suspense in that straightforward, vaguely tactless way you’re quickly realizing is her trademark. Ah, she’s got half a smile on, hands laced in front of her - it somehow manages to come off cute instead of caustic. With a face like that she’s probably never had an issue getting away with the attitude. “So - is there anything else you two needed, or-”
“Jiyeon has a question.”
“Bona,” corrects Bona, elbowing Eunseo. “Christ. I’m on the clock.”
“Sure,” says Yuqi, mildly intrigued. Her chin’s tilted up, slender arms crossing over her chest. She looks exactly like she’s been getting the life fucked out of her and she doesn’t seem a bit self-conscious about it. “Make it quick.”
“Fine, fine.” Yuqi’s being bossy to the point of being rude, but Bona’s lips tilt in a conspiratorial grin, undeterred. “So, what’d you rate it?”
Yuqi quirks an eyebrow. “His dick, or-”
“The bathroom. Like, out of ten, how good is it to have sex in?”
“Bona’s been trying to seduce one of the investors for, like, months,” Eunseo explains.
“Baby,” drawls Yuqi, even though she must be younger than Bona - and miraculously, it sounds suggestive rather than condescending, although that could be the glint in her eye as she gives Bona a languid once-over. “If it’s taking months for you to get this guy to fuck you, he’s obviously either blind or insane. You’re gorgeous. I’d give it up.”
It’s her tone, her expression; Bona, who makes a living off of being drooled over, freezes in place, suddenly a little spellbound. “Um,” she says.
“She’s not wrong,” you add, amused. Well, it’s good to know you’re not the only one so easily dazzled. It’s the arrogance, the husky voice, the disheveled state of Yuqi’s hair, her thighs still red from how rough you were - you’re not sure anyone with a pulse could resist her.
“I’d give it a ten,” says Yuqi, winks, pats your shoulder. She’ll pull out the charisma when it counts. “I’m very satisfied.”
-
“Hey,” Yuqi says, and you’re making your way towards the front, even though you’re technically still supposed to be working. By the doors, the pretty blonde in Yuqi’s band is wrapped up with this guy who’s so much taller than her their height difference is almost comical. “There’s a party next Saturday that you should go to.”
You glance over at her. “Are you asking me or telling me?”
“Telling you,” says Yuqi, stone-faced, radiant eyes alight. “It’s an order.”
“God,” you say, almost inappropriately endeared. She’s so pushy. It’s cute. “Okay.”
She rattles off the address, lets you type it into your phone. “That’s Miyeon’s place,” she explains, nods towards the blonde - “Fairy princess Barbie with the boyfriend, over there.”
“Sure,” you say; the description’s so spot-on, but it also goes largely in one ear and out the other. “Hey, so-”
You’re about to ask her for her number, but at that moment the blonde girl - Miyeon - turns and spots the both of you together, and her jaw drops. Yeah, Yuqi looks thoroughly fucked and she’s wearing it wonderfully; you’re probably not much better off. “Song Yuqi.”
“That’s my name,” says Yuqi, dryly, and then Miyeon’s tugging her towards the entrance.
You sigh, you let it go. It’s for the best, probably; you should get back to work, be responsible. You’ll see her next weekend, anyway. You’ll be inevitable.
By the door, Miyeon’s incredulous, talking loud and completely enthused. “You had sex with a stranger in a dirty club bathroom?” she’s saying to Yuqi. “Who are you, me?”
“You didn’t fuck a stranger, Miyeon. You fucked your teacher.”
“And look how well that turned out.”
Oh, it’s none of your business, it’s Club Cosmic; it’s not the place for a moral compass. Besides, you’ve got all your own problems: Yuqi’s pink hair catches the light, falls to shadow. You’ll have bruises, wounds to clean. You’ll play games: power, control, battle strategy. It’ll be a train wreck waiting to happen.
You smile at Yuqi’s retreating form, and think you'll take whatever she throws at you - it's only fair, because you'll give it right back.
-
Look, it’s not like she’s the only thing you think about: you’ve got responsibilities, obligations. But you let your mind wander and she’s there, straight out of all your dirtiest dreams. You’re thinking it’s a one-in-a-million encounter, a once-in-a-lifetime girl - you already know you’re in deep, in regards to sex and otherwise. You’ll have your hands full with Yuqi. There’s a week to wait for the party, and the whole time you’re on the verge of a one-track mind.
And then suddenly it’s Saturday, and - well, you know what they say about best-laid plans.
-
You’re a party person, but only sometimes. You’re used to low-key things, college dorms and cheap beer. You’ve got friends with sketchy standards, you’ve got a bartending job in a burlesque club - you’re not sure what you were expecting when Yuqi invited you to a party, but-
So, the apartment’s huge. Like, okay, you already forgot whose party this is - it’s been a week, and that’s too long - but whoever it is, their family probably comes from blood money. It’s cool, it’s intimidating. It also means you can’t find anyone: not even Yuqi, not even if you tried.
You make yourself busy in the meantime. The party’s packed, so you do end up running into people you know, eventually: there’s Lisa, the rookie choreographer at Club Cosmic. She’s your age, she’s there with that blonde chick she’s always with - Chaeyoung - and Chaeyoung’s boyfriend, who’s breaking up with her constantly, or something. Campus drama; you try not to get involved. They’re all drunk and hysterically funny, and you get distracted easily.
“So, Club Cosmic, huh?” Chaeyoung’s boyfriend is saying to you. He’s always struck you as a bit of an asshole, but mostly in a harmless way. He pats Chaeyoung’s waist. “Rosie would never let me work in a place like that,” he tacks on, eyebrows raising emphatically. “All that temptation.”
“What?” splutters Chaeyoung.
“Uh,” you say - you’re not getting into it. Plus, it’s occurred to you that Chaeyoung’s boyfriend pushes her buttons on purpose - and after Yuqi, you’re sort of seeing all the appeal of that kind of dynamic.
Lisa, somehow, has gotten way more wasted than the other two, and you, amazingly, have barely even touched a drink. “Who’re you looking for?” Lisa asks, then presses a hand to her temple. “I’m slurring. I can feel it.”
She is, but it’s not the point. “Yuqi,” you say. “Pink hair? From the band last Saturday?”
Lisa snaps her fingers, then keeps snapping, finds the beat of the background music like it’s nothing. “Right. Oh, oh!” Her attention darts to someone behind you, and suddenly she’s gesturing wildly at them. “Then - okay, you know Minnie, right? You must. You have to. Minnie!”
You frown; the name doesn’t ring a bell. “Does she work at the club?”
“What? No. She’s - hey, Minnie!”
“Oh, my god.” The exasperation is startlingly close to you: right over your shoulder, voice silk and velvet and sultrier things. “I’m right here, bitch. You don’t need to scream my name.”
“Minnie,” says Lisa, again, like being blind drunk has started to affect her general comprehension. Er - okay, that’s probably the goal. “You two know each other, right? Minnie, you’ve met-”
It’s supposed to be an introduction, normal, perfunctory - you’re supposed to turn around, wave, smile; you’re good with strangers, you’re a bartender and it’s your job, for fuck’s sake - but the second you swivel and your eyes land on this girl, it’s like every social cue slips right out of your brain and falls straight to the floor.
“Holy shit,” you say.
“You too,” the girl says, rapid-fire, like it’s a sentiment she’s used to getting.
“Uh-oh,” says Lisa; she’s not drunk enough to miss out on the sudden vibe, the instant implications. She is, however, drunk enough to unintentionally snap all the tension, or at least do a very good job at trying. “Oh, no. You think she’s hot.”
“I am hot,” says the girl - Minnie. There’s a curl to her mouth. You’re gawking like an idiot and you can’t even bring yourself to care.
“And you think he’s hot,” Lisa says to her, awed, giving the play-by-play. Chaeyoung’s got her face buried in her boyfriend’s shoulder - so, they’ve reconciled in two seconds flat - laughing half from sheer embarrassment.
“I do,” agrees Minnie, before you can say anything. “What a coincidence."
You can’t help it; you’re stunned, you’re staring. It’s the eyes, more than anything: so preternaturally, absurdly beautiful, a sea-glass green too light and clear to be real. You’ll take it back; despite Lisa’s best efforts, there’s no way she’s breaking off this kind of tension. Minnie’s like something out of a comic, a cartoon, dreamt up by some passionate artist and brought to life gorgeously - it’s so fast, but it’s a party, and she’s the prettiest thing in the room, in any room. You can’t focus on anything but her.
“Do you two know each other?” asks Lisa, bordering confusion. There’s a strange familiarity there, maybe: Minnie’s looking at you like she already knows everything you’ve thought about doing to her in the sixty seconds since you first saw her. “You do, right?”
“No, we don’t.” You can’t tear your gaze off Minnie’s eyes, but when you do, now it’s everywhere - her long, slim legs, her sharp collarbone, her fingers, all capped with eye-catching hot pink acrylics - she’s in the shortest skirt, the tightest top. She’s like sex just standing there and her smirk suggests that she knows it. “But - I mean - it’s nice to meet you. You’re-” You’re tripping over all your words, losing your mind. “Jesus.”
You’re not drunk, but you might as well be - there’s no way you’re thinking straight. Chaeyoung snorts and starts herding her boyfriend and Lisa away, giving you two the illusion of space; the party’s still full, and there’s no escaping it. Minnie tilts her head, eyes curving to half-moons, says, “Thanks. Hey, I think you’re pretty Jesus, too.”
“Get a room,” calls Lisa, loudly.
So, there’s no reason this should be happening - it’s insane, and it’s so soon - but it’s a party, and everything’s dialed up, and Minnie’s so strikingly, unreasonably gorgeous you can’t recall anyone else’s name.
“That’s not a bad idea.” Minnie’s got a hand on her hip and she’s studying you like she can read your mind - well, you’d let her. It’s been two minutes and the only thing you’re thinking about is her. “Maybe we should do that, huh?”
There’s practically zero pretense. She’s got a smile like she’s holding secrets, like she knows you’re just dying to unravel them all - she’s stupid hot, and it’s a party, and you’re helpless. That’s the beginning and the end of it all, or it should be.
“Maybe,” you agree, and all your plans fall through in an instant. There’s really no other way it could go.
-
Here’s the thing, about you and Minnie: façades drop fast.
Minnie’s tall in her sky-high heels, eyes like she could kill a man, body dripping sex appeal like sin - for all intents and purposes, she should be exactly who Yuqi was to you, a week ago. A girl who you’ll fuck like you’re getting into fisticuffs. That’s obviously your type - you’ve had that revelation, now. You like getting marks almost as much as you like leaving them.
Somehow you end up in a bedroom, get horribly distracted by conversation. She’s still impossibly hot, but there’s less seduction, suggestion. See, it occurs to you in record time, after you say something funny and she giggles out this ridiculous, stupid, hilarious laugh: she’s cute. That’s the thing sitting under all the allure, threaded through her laugh and her fast-talking energy: she’s fucking adorable.
“You’re cute,” you say, eventually, because you can’t help it. She’s sitting on the bed, attention flicking from you to the expensive-looking camera on the nightstand. The door’s locked, and you both know what you’re doing here.
“Yeah,” says Minnie, smiling that slightly lopsided smile, a bit too wide to be properly coy. “Well, I think you’re cute, too.”
“Is that why you dragged me into a bedroom within a minute of meeting me?” you prompt, standing at the footboard. Minnie’s platform heels are gone, now, and she’s got her slender legs tucked under her, skirt riding high on her thighs. “Because you think I’m cute?”
“That’s one reason.”
“One?”
“One of many.”
You’re not a one-night stand guy, but this is your second in a week, or it’s about to be. It’s a fever dream, both moments: there’s a risk you’ve never taken, there’s a girl watching you like you fascinate her, inexplicably. If you looked in the mirror you’re not sure you’d recognize yourself - you don’t do this, you don’t.
(You don’t do this, but you’re doing it - again.)
“You’re hot,” Minnie says candidly, nails skimming over the camera on the nightstand. “And I like your smile. And your arms. And everyone at this party is so boring.” She tilts her head, examines you. There’s a shift to the room, the suggestion coming back full-force; she pulls the camera into her lap, and now you’re seated at the corner of the bed, fingertips brushing her bare knees. “And I like how the first thing you said when you saw me was holy shit.”
“That can’t be an uncommon reaction,” you say. “I mean, you’re - you’re fucking gorgeous. Everybody must tell you that.”
“Sure,” says Minnie. “But I guess I like it a lot better coming out of your mouth.”
There’s something new at her lips, wicked; she passes you the camera a beat later. Her top pulls tight against her chest as she moves, her glossy black hair brushing just past her collarbone. “Hey,” she says, and stretches out, leisurely. There are her legs, her thighs, the elegant line of her neck - there’s too much to concentrate on, right in front of you. Minnie nods towards the camera. “Take my picture.”
“What?” you say, startled. The camera feels heavy in your hands. You’re not sure how Minnie got the nerve to use some random person’s bedroom, take their belongings - you’re not sure if you should ask. “Really?”
“Please?” Minnie asks, eyes beseeching, and - oh.
That’s when it clicks in your head: she’s not like Yuqi at all.
Forget the fronts, the forwardness, the sex appeal. Minnie’s not gonna fight back, or make demands. She’s gonna beg and plead and do exactly what you tell her to do. There’ll be no violent standoffs: she’s spread out on the bed, and she’s already surrendering.
“Hmm,” you say - you’re slipping, you’re leaning into it. If she wants you in control then she’ll get it. “Give me something interesting to photograph, then.”
Minnie raises an eyebrow coolly, but her teeth notch into her bottom lip, incriminating. “My face isn’t enough?”
“I don’t think so.” It’s a lie - that face could sell magazines, fit perfectly on billboards. “You got anything else?”
Minnie fixes you with a look, but it’s not really even a question: it’s an order, a test. You’re feeling out your boundaries, unfamiliar territory - and then her hands go to the hem of her skintight shirt and she’s peeling it overhead. Talk about magazines - you’ll find her in dirtier ones, fantasies, obscenities. Her bra’s lacy and black, hair mussed; she waits, lets you drink her in.
“That’ll work,” you say, and that’s only the first picture. You know the very second you take it that there’ll be a lot, lot more.
-
You kiss her and there’s a switch flipped, a bomb dropped - you mind the debris, leave goosebumps every time you touch any part of her - her throat, her tits, her toned midriff. “Look at you,” you say, and there’s something shifted in you, too: it’s your tone, it’s how she reacts to it. “So fuckin’ needy.”
The camera’s forgotten on the nightstand; instead, you go for her bra, get it off, get it to the floor. Your eyes flick up to Minnie’s, and that’s a vision, her striking eyes spilled wide with expectation. She’s slender, breakable - you’re on top of her, and she’s already trembling - so you’ll start slow, first. This is all on your terms and she knows it.
You dip, scrape your teeth across a nipple, and Minnie lets loose the prettiest whine.
“It’s actually kind of incredible,” you say, conversationally, as your bottom lip drags down the defined line of her stomach, stops at the waistband of her tiny skirt. You’ve got a hand on each thigh, spreading them gently; you won’t be nice for long. “We just met, you know? You and me.”
There’s a point here - you’ll make it as you unbutton her skirt, pull the zipper, drag it down her thighs. Minnie hasn’t said a word: you’re not sure she could, even if she tried. Then her skirt’s gone, and it’s all fair game - you hook a finger under the crotch of her panties just to find her soaked.
“Oh,” you say, darkly - you’re testing your limits, testing the flimsy fabric of her underwear. “Here, see - we just met,” you say, and punctuate it by running your finger through the folds of her pussy, “and you’re already so fucking desperate for me that your slutty little cunt’s leaking all over my fingers.”
Minnie inhales so sharply that it’s like she takes all the air out of the room, eyelashes fluttering: that’s your go-ahead. You let your grin tilt cruelly, and then you rip her panties right off of her.
You know the fabric must bite into her hips by the mewling noise she makes, but it’s that same noise that gives it away - she loves it. Maybe it’s good that you’ve taken up a vice like this, these one-night stands - you know the tells and you know what to do with them. There’s a sick kind of power, standing above her like this, undoing your own zipper; Minnie’s almost salivating by now, lips parted, focus trained on your hands and what they’ll do, what they’re already doing-
You drop one hand around her throat just to wrap it in your fist, and in the same beat, you sink your cock straight into her pussy.
It’s pornographic, how Minnie submits, how she dissolves, how she lets you fuck her right into the mattress, stuff her mouthwateringly tight cunt with your cock - “Oh my god,” she chokes out through your grip on her neck, your fingers so rough it’s likely you’ll leave bruises; there’s your thumb under the line of her jaw, nail pressing down-
“Fuck me, please - feels so good, fucking my pussy so good-”
Minnie’s barely getting the words out, but she doesn’t even have to. See, her pleasure’s visible, and it’s everywhere: her hands half-curled to fists, her dazzling, tear-blurred eyes, her whines, her back curving to an archway. She’s so gorgeous getting fucked like this, and you should be thanking God that you even get the chance to feel a pussy this perfect - but you’re not. Instead-
Your hand lets up on her throat just to trap her face between your fingers, pressing hard. “Shut the fuck up,” you snarl, “stupid fucking slut - do you want people outside to hear you acting like a greedy fucking whore for some stranger’s cock? Want them to come running in and see you like this?” Your fingertips dig into her cheeks. “You don’t even know me, baby. You have no idea what the fuck I could do to you.”
You’re really in it now: fucking her like there might be weapons on the table, guns readied, knives unsheathed. The door’s locked, you know that; oh, technicalities. It’s not like it really matters. The idea of it’s enough.
Your cruelty’s a killer. It gets some kind of perverse Pavlovian response from Minnie, something that gets her sobbing with her face in your hand - “I don’t care,” she’s saying, words garbled, slurring at each syllable: “Don’t care, just fuck me, fuck me, please - you’re right, I’m just a stupid slut, just use me, use my cunt-”
Your hands have a motive and they’re leaving marks - she’s so tight, so unbelievably wet. You’re ruining her and you’ll prove it.
“That’s my girl,” you say, and suddenly you land a smack across her cheek. It’s not as rough as you could be - you’re in dangerous territory, you’re toeing lines; there’s a lot more damage you could do - but Minnie yelps anyway, caught on a sob, stares up at you with tears beading her eyelashes, smudging mascara, eyeliner. One of her hands is around your wrist, acrylics leaving indents. “Yeah, yeah, you know what you are. Just a dirty little fuckhole-” There’s another slap, another strangled moan- “for me to use.”
It’s building and it’s building fast - there’s something about how mercilessly you’re fucking her pussy that makes Minnie squeal and shudder and clench tighter - and you know she’s about to cum, so you lean in to bite at her neck, collarbone, tits. You’re sinking your teeth in just to suck, soothe it with your tongue; it’s all about pain thresholds, and you’re pushing her past her limits-
It’s like you feel it before it happens, but then it happens.
“Fucking cum for me,” you order, and then you pull your cock out of her - just as Minnie squirts all over you.
It all unravels, after that - you’re jerking your cock, cumming all over the perfect, flat plane of her midriff, all that pale skin glazed in white - and Minnie’s panting, whining, struck with the aftershocks. Your brain cuts off at the stem. You’re balking, open-mouthed.
You have to understand, she’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen: Minnie, sprawled out in front of you, her pussy wrecked and raw, her stomach covered in your cum. You can’t help it. You grab her by the throat and drag her mouth to yours.
“You’re so fucking hot,” you exhale, and Minnie melts into your lap, becomes putty in your hands, licking, writhing - you can’t turn off the aggression. You’ve got her throat in your hand and your other slipping down to her chest just to smack hard at her tits, get her squealing. “That’s my dirty fucking slut. Squirting all over me - squirting just ‘cause you love my cock, huh? Just ‘cause you’re a whore for my cock?”
Minnie’s whimpering through your grip on her neck, spine curving when your hand returns to her tits, pulling hard at her nipples. You’ve never, ever been so ruthless - you can’t even describe what it is about Minnie that gets this out of you. It’s her body, her needy, tear-filled eyes - that’s a girl that was made to be fucked hard.
“That’s it.” You move your hand from her neck to her cheeks, gripping her face in your hand. Minnie stares at you, green eyes glassy, baleful, drool falling from her open mouth, her lolling tongue. “There you go. Here, let me-”
There’s that camera, on the nightstand. When you let Minnie’s face go, she tumbles out of your lap, falls back on the soaked sheets - she doesn’t even try to pose and it’s like it comes to her naturally, her legs tucked up to show her dripping cunt, the stain underneath her, her makeup a disaster - and that’s it, right there, something ready to frame and display-
You pull back, and you take the shot.
-
(You’ve never, ever been so ruthless - except a week ago, scathing and sinister, fucking Yuqi in a public bathroom like you wanted to kill her. There’s something in that, a line to be drawn. It’ll come back around, in time.)
-
“So,” you say, after. “Do you usually make a habit of squirting all over random people’s beds?”
Minnie’s recovering, letting you wipe the cum off her stomach with tissues - still, it’s all sort of a lost cause, considering her squirt covers everything. You honestly need a shower, and there’s an on-suite you’re thinking of using. You’re probably past party fouls at this point.
Minnie’s staring at you, eyes narrowed strangely, lips parted - and it’s so cute you get momentarily distracted. “What?” you ask, tugging her towards you, your hands busying themselves fixing her bangs. “What’s that look?”
Minnie tips her head, lets you adjust her in any way she wants; it’s completely natural, instinctual. “Who invited you to this party?”
“What?” you ask, like you’ve forgotten all other words.
Minnie pats the soaked sheets. It’s just then that you notice that there’s a color scheme going on: the bright pink of her acrylic nails, the pale pink of the bedding. “This is my apartment,” she says. “My room. My party. My…” She throws her hand towards the camera, and now she’s laughing her ridiculous, infectious laugh, and all of a sudden your own laughter’s pouring out and you can’t stop it. “How’d you even get here? Where’d you even come from?”
Oh, well - now that makes a lot more sense. “One of my friends - so, it was, like, completely on a whim. I basically had no details before coming.”
“Fate!” concludes Minnie almost instantly, clapping her hands, dropping all other lines of questioning. Clearly, she’s a girl after your own heart: her attention span’s basically nonexistent. “We were so meant to meet. And fuck.”
“No, I agree,” you say, smiling, because she’s so adorable even when she’s not getting fucked into oblivion. So, this is about to be really bad for you. “We have… we’ve got, you know-”
“Sexual chemistry.”
“Absolutely.”
That throws Minnie into another round of delighted giggles, and she’s got you frozen in place, grinning like an idiot. It’s those eyes, so intense until they soften, completely - she’s beyond beautiful. It’s a problem. “I bet our zodiac signs-”
“Here we go.”
“I’m so serious!” Minnie smacks your knee, over-the-top. “I bet we’re, like, cosmically intertwined. No one fucks me that good on the first hook-up.” She’s already reaching for her phone on the nightstand. “Come on, when were you born? No, I said I’m serious, I need to work this out-”
You humor her, give her all the information she asks for. You can’t stop taking pictures of her, now that you know it’s her obnoxiously expensive camera - you’re not even close to being a good photographer, but she’s unbelievable in front of a lens, the eyes and the ruined makeup and the new hickeys spanning her neck, chest - and Minnie just grins, laughs, pays you no mind.
“No, see,” she says, and she’s comparing your birth charts with half-assed sincerity; it’s become increasingly obvious that she knows as much about astrology as you do, which is basically nothing at all. “That’s it. That means our sexual desires - um - run parallel to each other, according to the stars, which means-”
“You’re so full of shit.”
Minnie wrinkles up her nose, gives you a dirty look. There’s a smile flickering at her mouth; that’s another photo, right there. Oh, you’re not sure you’ll be able to leave this room until you’ve got enough to fill a gallery - it’s a good thing that she doesn’t seem to be complaining.
-
You do actually end up taking a shower - it’s probably still some sort of party foul - but at least you’re not alone. When you’re done, Minnie’s working sweet-smelling leave-in conditioner into her damp hair, a towel wrapped around her - her makeup’s gone, and she’s still so gorgeous she belongs somewhere in MoMA - you leave it be.
“I’ll get you a new shirt,” she says. “I mean - least I could do. My roommate’s boyfriend leaves stuff here all the time, so I can just run over to her room and grab you something-”
“Oh,” you say, kind of alarmed. “That’s - um, so that’s-”
Minnie waves you off. “He won’t care,” she says. “Like, not to rub it in, or whatever, but he’s let guys I’ve fucked borrow his clothes before. We have an arrangement. He’s just cool like that.”
“If you say so.” Her blatant unselfconsciousness reads as charming, somehow. There’s still a party going on outside - Minnie actually got to take off her clothes before you fucked her, so her outfit’s fully salvagable. Well, except the panties, obviously.
“You think I would’ve let you rip my underwear if I didn’t have, like, fifty other pairs readily available?” Minnie’s shimmying a new pair of panties up her thighs.
“Yes,” you say, bemused. “You would’ve let me do whatever I wanted to you.”
“Ugh,” says Minnie, eyes feline and luminous, mirth catching at her lips like a wick to a flame. “You’re so…”
“So Jesus, I know. I’ve been told.”
She leaves, comes back eventually, with the shirt, hair still damp and smile still remarkable, radiant. You exchange numbers, and you press her up against the door before you leave, kiss her until you take all the air from her lungs.
“See you around,” says Minnie, pupils blown, panting. “Seriously, get out of here before we end up fucking again. I don’t know if you realized, but I’m kind of having a party right now.”
“Send me copies of those photos I took,” you say, and pat her hip before you leave.
-
(She and Yuqi are nothing alike, not in the slightest, but that’s the thing that makes you realize it: limiting yourself to one type is so fucking stifling.)
-
You’re ready to go, but first - naturally, accidentally - you run into the blonde from Yuqi’s band, Miyeon, and her ridiculously tall, very mature boyfriend. Her teacher, allegedly: okay, it’s none of your business, but the logistics seem sort of sketchy. You’ll have to get the details at some point.
“Hey,” you say.
“Hey,” says Miyeon’s boyfriend; he’s got a half-smile on like he and Miyeon have a private joke that you’re not in on.
“Hi,” says Miyeon, obviously a little drunk. “Uh, nice shirt.”
“Thanks.”
Her dark eyes, attentive even while intoxicated, flick behind you, where Minnie’s probably standing in the doorway of her room. “Oh,” Miyeon says, fine eyebrows raising. “Oh. Well, that makes sense. Don’t worry,” she adds, leans in like she’s sharing a secret. “I won’t tell Yuqi.”
“What?” you say, sort of flustered. “Will Yuqi care that I hooked up with some other girl?”
Miyeon and her boyfriend exchange a brief, coded glance. “Some other girl,” repeats Miyeon, slowly, studying you oddly. “You are talking about Minnie, right?”
“Yeah, but I mean - like, another stranger.”
There’s another glance between them that you can’t even begin to decipher. “No,” says Miyeon, eventually, and suddenly her entire demeanor’s shifted, enthusiastic out of nowhere. “Not at all!” she repeats, chirpier. “She’s not gonna care. Why would she? Like you said - Minnie’s a stranger. Yuqi won’t mind.”
“Miyeon,” says her boyfriend.
“She won’t!” Miyeon nods cheerfully, reassuringly. “She’s totally - you know, totally chill. She doesn’t even - yeah.” Her boyfriend’s nudging her arm, wrapping her hand in his; well, you think it’s cute that they’re so affectionate. “Anyway. Have a good night!”
(In retrospect, Miyeon’s tipsy, and it’s certainly not the most subtle she’s ever been. In retrospect, you just had amazing sex, and it’s not the smartest or most perceptive you’ve ever been, either - ah, well. Call it a combined effort, her fucking with you like this.)
“Have a good night,” you reply, and you let it go. You’re sure it’ll come back around soon enough.
-
It doesn’t, for a bit. It all carries on.
You realize that you missed out on seeing Yuqi again at the party, but there’s Minnie’s texts coming in on your phone, semi-frequently - she has this habit of taking hours to respond, but when she does, it’s twenty texts all in a row, ranting about something either hilariously stupid or genuinely thoughtful; she loves photography (apparently the expensive camera wasn’t just for show), she loves music. It’s fun, it’s light. You’re very easily distracted and this is no exception.
But then it’s a Friday and you’re in the middle of a shift at Club Cosmic, making small talk with some of the performers between numbers. Bona’s still trying to seduce that investor, but they haven’t come around in so long, she tells you.
“Maybe I should give it up,” Bona’s saying, sipping on something fruity, barely alcoholic - the manager doesn’t like the performers to go on drunk. “Maybe your girl-”
“My girl,” you echo, entertained by the prospect - you already know who she’s talking about.
Bona fixes you with a look, catching the tone. “Yeah,” she says. “All I’m saying is that maybe she was right.”
“I usually am.”
It’s as if on cue, or something close to it - there’s a score leading in, there’s a camera, focusing - and suddenly Yuqi’s plopping herself down on the barstool next to Bona, perfectly nonchalant.
“Speak of the devil,” you say, and you mean it.
It just so happens that the devil in question has half of her pale pink hair tied up in a silky black ribbon, so gorgeous it’s heart-stopping, disarming. Too sweet-faced to be so evil, to have all that power right at her fingertips - it’s all about contradictions, with demons; that’s how they reel you in. Yuqi cocks her head, lets her wavy hair waterfall over a slender shoulder; it’s like she’s taken all the light out of the room, leaving the glint of her deep-space eyes and nothing else.
There’s all that instant danger in it: you’re on the edge of a black hole, a void. “I didn’t see you at the party last week,” you say. “Find a better offer?”
Yuqi shrugs. “Maybe.”
“But here you are,” you prompt - you’re waiting for it. “Visiting me at work.”
“Tone down the ego,” says Yuqi, and smiles over at Bona. “I’m just here for the pretty girls.”
Bona’s already faintly flustered, blushing. There’s something so addicting about getting Yuqi’s attention, and it’s something you’ve already become aware of, maybe even since the first second the two of you ever met - she looks at you and it’s always with a risk, a sharp-shooting focus - and you already know what’s happening here.
“Um,” you say, mouth dry; you can only keep up a casual rapport for so long, with Yuqi right here, and looking like that. “I’ll - you know what, let me get someone to cover for me.”
“Dear god,” says Bona, as if she doesn’t understand entirely where you’re coming from.
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly ask you to neglect your job for me,” says Yuqi. She’s going for demure, but the smirk on her mouth gives her away - her lips are blood-red, a preview, a prequel. “I can wait. Patience is a virtue, or whatever.”
“Bullshit,” you say, bluntly, and Bona actually chokes on her drink. “You don’t have any patience.” You nudge your coworker, call her over - “Hey, Sojung, can you-”
“Right,” says Sojung, spotting Yuqi and her grin and every inch of her perfect face, her neck, her collarbone. She gets it like it’s scrawled across the bartop; it might as well be. “Yeah, yeah. You totally owe me, though.”
“Sure,” you say, on edge, obvious, and Yuqi’s brilliant laugh unfurls like she knows she’s got a claim to stake.
It all moves fast, after that - you’re following Yuqi out to her car, and you’re incapable of doing anything more than that, for the time being; she’s in an enticingly short skirt, and you can’t help it. You’ve got her pinned up against the driver’s side, her back hitting the door so hard it could bruise her spine - you’ve got your hands in her hair and her tongue in your mouth; there are angles to consider, possibilities. You’ve got her car and all that fair skin to mark up, every part of her flawless body curving into yours like she’s calling your name-
“Good choice,” says Yuqi, hot against your lips. “I hate waiting.”
“Stop fucking talking,” you reply, and you’re right back where you started.
-
You fuck her in the backseat of her car, and it’s filthy on principle - it’s cramped and she’s on top of you, riding your cock, hands on your chest, ducking so she won’t ram her head into the roof of the car. Yuqi’s hair is all over you, and that’s the succubus in her, or it would be: she’s all-consuming, suffocating. She fucks you like you might not make it out alive, fills the car with the heady scent of sex, sweat, salt.
“I’m gonna cum inside you." You’ve got red handprints scattered across her ass; she knows you’re not asking permission. She’d let it go on its own, probably, but you’ve always got to take it a beat too far - “Gonna fill your dirty little cunt with my cum, make you walk out of here all fucked out and used and filled like a common fucking whore-”
Yuqi slaps you - actually, fully slaps you, the clap of her hand across your cheek shockingly loud. You smirk up at her, all your teeth. It doesn’t matter if she likes it or not; you’re about to make good on every single threat.
“You know,” you say, after. Yuqi’s trying to find wherever you threw her panties, trying to keep your semen from leaking out of her pussy onto her backseat - she’s failing on both counts. “I think we’d make it out of fucking with way less wounds if you’d just admit that it makes you wet when I degrade you.”
“Oh, baby.” Yuqi eyes you, smiling, then reaches behind you to fish out her panties from where they’d been trapped between your back and the door. She’s so close - cheeks flushed, lips slick, pink on pink on pink - it’s like some higher power made her with an aesthetic in mind, hand-crafted with a purpose. “I’m not trying to hide that. Just like you’re not trying to hide that you like it when you come out of sex with some wounds.”
She’s making fun of your word choice. “So do you,” you counter mildly.
Yuqi cards a hand through her hair - she’s lost her ribbon, somewhere, back when you yanked it out, made her yelp with the sting. She tucks her knees under her, observes what a mess you must be in return: your mussed hair, your red cheek, the new welts from her nails across your skin, dangerously close to your jugular.
“Like I said,” she tells you, her grin a forest fire waiting to devour. “Not trying to hide it.”
-
You walk it back, take steps you should’ve taken the first day you met. You’re trading numbers, talking in circles: you’re a bit hung up on the fact that Yuqi made it a point to visit your job just to find you. It’s both insanely flattering and kind of hilarious.
“Like, what’d you do?” you ask, as she puts her number into your phone. You’re outside her car, you’ll have to get back to work eventually - her windows are rolled down, airing it out. “Just come to Club Cosmic every night on the off chance that I might be bartending then?”
You’re joking, but Yuqi takes too long to respond, eyes studiously trained on your phone. It’s a dead giveaway.
“Really?” You stop, stare, enchanted by the information. Okay, it’s flattering, it’s hilarious - it’s also completely fucking adorable. “Yuqi.”
“Shut up,” says Yuqi. She’s not embarrassed, exactly - you’ve yet to see if that’s an emotion she has the capacity to feel - but when she looks up at you, you can tell by the new tint to her cheeks that it’s something close. “Don’t say my name like that.”
“Like what?”
“Ugh,” says Yuqi, and doesn’t bother giving you a direct answer. “And I didn’t come every day, you idiot. I came once earlier in the week and ran into Bona, so I asked her when your next shift was.”
She’s pressed to your side, tiny next to you; she hands you back your phone, then gets distracted with the cuff of your sleeve, fiddling with the button. “Once?” you prompt, unable to tear your gaze off of her.
Yuqi rolls her eyes, but there’s a soft defense to it, caught. “Fine - twice,” she amends, “but only because I got - I got sidetracked, the first time. That’s it. It’s just - not a lot of people can fuck me how you fuck me. And I meant what I said, when we first met.” She shrugs, like she never says things she doesn't mean. “I think you’re cool.”
Yuqi’s thing is all blunt honesty, but it’s here, too, without the impact, landing light and too fond for how little time you’ve truly spent with each other. You’re helpless to do anything but watch her for a second, how her gaze flicks to yours and then up to the stars, the moon.
“You’re cute,” you say, and kiss the top of her head.
“I’m cool,” Yuqi insists - it’s all about keeping it mutual.
“Sure, sure.” You settle your hand low on her back, slip your pinky under the waistband of her skirt; it’s not specifically suggestive, but you feel this need to touch her, so you’ll touch her. You’re teasing, so you’ll soften the blow. “You’re everything. You’re greater than God, baby.”
Yuqi’s eyes match the sky, reflect constellations like she’s got some celestial ownership to them. “You’re so fucking annoying,” she says, “but damn right I am.”
-
“Hey,” you say to Bona, afterwards. “Thanks for breaking our professional code of conduct and telling Yuqi when my shifts are. If I ever get a stalker, I’m glad you have my back.”
“No problem,” says Bona drolly, her silk robe tied loose around her waist, only half-covering the intricate lingerie she’s got on. “Any time. Hey, I would’ve broken our professional code of conduct sooner-”
“Oh, thanks so much-”
“But the other time she came here she brought her really hot friend, and I thought it’d be rude to interrupt.”
There’s an emphasis there, on friend - you’re slow on the uptake, sometimes, but this is one thing you don’t miss. “Yuqi brought someone here?”
“Yeah, and she was fucking gorgeous - like, unbelievable.” Bona shakes her head. “They were all over each other. I was honestly kind of surprised Yuqi still remembered that you existed, after all that.”
You’re not really sure what to make of that, so you don’t really make anything of it. You and Yuqi have only fucked twice - sure, there’s the exchanging numbers, there’s the promise of more - but you’re not expecting you two to be exclusive, for obvious reasons-
Your phone pings, and that’s the first one, blinking right up at you from the screen.
hiii, Minnie’s texted, and she never settles with just one message.
youre working tonight right????
come over after youre done with your shift?
i miss your cock
and you i GUESS…
but mostly your cock
You’d be a raging hypocrite if you were upset about Yuqi hooking up with someone else, so you won’t be. Harmless fun - that’s all. You’ll keep your affairs in order and she’ll keep hers. No exclusivity, no drama: that’s what you signed up for and that’s what you’ll get.
“Uh,” says Bona, and when you look up, she’s raising an eyebrow pointedly. “Hot date?”
Another text: a photo this time. You open it, and - oh.
“It’s not like Yuqi and I are exclusive,” you say, grinning, clicking your phone off. You won’t deny it: this whole thing’s incredible for your ego. “She can fuck around with whoever she wants and so can I. We’re just - you know. Fuckbuddies. That’s all. It’s not serious.”
“Huh,” says Bona, not buying it, but she lets it go. For the best, probably: it doesn’t matter if anyone else understands this, because you’re the only one who really needs to.
-
You’re wiped by the time your shift ends, bone-tired by the time you make it over to Minnie’s. “Hey, you,” she says, when she opens the door; her eyes are dark for once, and somehow just as captivating. “Oh, seriously - you’re barely even awake. Why’d you even come over?”
“You sent me a picture of my cum all over your stomach,” you say, and Minnie cracks up. “Coming over is, like, common courtesy.”
You’re so sleepy you’re not even sure the words are coming out right. Minnie ends up ushering you into the apartment, anyway; her hair’s tied back in two low pigtails, secured with white ribbons, her shirt tight and her shorts pink, so tiny they’re showing off all of her irresistible thighs. She’s so fuckable - but you’re so exhausted. Minnie’s amused and rueful all at once: “You could’ve said no!” she tells you, insistent. “It’s not like you can even fuck me like this.”
“That sounds like a challenge,” you say, but you break into a yawn immediately after.
“Babe,” says Minnie, endeared. “You’re fucking adorable, but don’t even try.”
Somehow, this leads into you showering in Minnie’s bathroom - again - and then it’s mutually agreed upon that you should probably just stay over, because if you try to drive back in this state you’ll definitely end up crashing your car. It’s all logic, really. It’ll be a facet of the fuckbuddy arrangement, so to hell with it - you’ll spend the night in her bed.
It’s all unmasked in the morning, anyway. You wake up to Minnie on top of you, her cunt hotly choking your cock, and there’s not a fucking chance you’re gonna make apologies for getting so comfortable so fast when it leads to all this in the daylight.
“Oh, fuck-"
Minnie’s on top, but she’s already relinquished every bit of power the moment your eyes snapped open. Doesn’t mean she doesn’t ride your cock like it might’ve been something she was trained to do - there’s the hypnotizing roll of her hips, her flat stomach - that’s something that needs to be immortalized in film one day, but for now-
“That’s my fucking cockslut.” You’ve got your fingertips digging bruises into the dip of her waist, pressing tight to her ribs. “Couldn’t even wait for me to wake up - you just had to have my cock inside your needy little pussy. Couldn’t resist, huh?”
It’s not even a question: no, she can’t, and she never, ever could.
“Good morning to you too,” you tell Minnie afterwards, with her hair balled up in your fist and squirt covering your stomach - you’ll have to take another shower, but at least she’ll be right there with you. “Fuck, Minnie. Is it bad to say I could get used to that?”
Minnie hums, spent - she tries to get out of bed and wobbles on unsteady legs. “Nope,” she says, voice raspy with sleep and sex, and you grab her wrist to balance her. Your cum’s dripping down her thigh. “I think we’ve established by now that I don’t mind taking orders.” She shrugs, like it’s the easiest thing she’s ever said, her dark eyes gorgeous, genuine. “Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”
“You’re my fucking dream girl,” you say, grinning, and Minnie throws her head back and laughs.
-
Oh, you’re kind of a fan of monogamy, historically. You don’t do one-night stands, or two, or four - you’re racking up numbers with both Yuqi and Minnie and there’s no point in keeping count. You don’t do the friends-with-benefits thing. It’s never appealed to you. Except-
“Tell you what: if you somehow manage to finish this puzzle in the next five minutes, I’ll get on my knees and suck your cock to completion.”
“To completion?” You’re on Yuqi’s couch - she has two roommates and every video game console in existence, apparently. You’re playing this horror game that’s way too puzzle-heavy to actually be scary, but your eyes are glued to the screen and Yuqi’s tucked close to your side; you’ll be alright with it. “As opposed to what?”
“I don’t know, stopping halfway through? Giving you blue balls? Dude, I’m just trying to motivate you.”
See, you’re better at video games than she is, in general, but she’s smarter than you, intuitive - when you’re playing convoluted single-player games like this, you always play them together. You make a good team, or something. You don’t do the friends-with-benefits thing, usually, but you’re doing it now - and there’s honestly more emphasis on the friends part of it than you’d originally bargained for. Well, Yuqi’s gorgeous, and hilarious, and gives just as good as she gets. You can’t say that’s something you’re complaining about.
You’re carving out routines, here. Friends-with-benefits is turning out to be something of a major time commitment, especially when-
“Minnie, I gotta be honest: public sex is off the table forever. You’re just gonna squirt everywhere and then we’re both gonna be royally fucked.”
There’s only one thing Minnie likes more than sex, and it’s spending money: that’s something you learn fast. Another thing is that she has more money than she knows what to do with, apparently - wild, considering she’s an unemployed college student, but you’ve seen her apartment; it’s not that much of a surprise. My family’s comfortable, she tells you once, humorous with an understatement. You know, they’re well-off.
They’re filthy rich, you’d interpreted, and the smile you got was all the confirmation you really needed.
It only leads to more routines, in the end: she takes you out shopping with her just to offer to buy you anything you pay even a modicum of attention to. She’s spoiled, but she loves to spoil. It’s cute and you won’t deny it.
“Forever?” Minnie’s got shopping bags lining her thin arms, and you’re carrying more for her - call that a built-in workout. She turns her eyes on you, wide and pleading. “Forever’s a long time.”
“Cut it out,” you say, and she bursts out laughing. “Jesus, I hate it when you do that.”
You’re lying and she knows it. “Do what?”
“You know what I mean. The thing with your eyes.”
Minnie bats her eyelashes, lets all the submissive sweetness fade from her expression. She knows what characters to play and when. “It’s not my fault you find me irresistible,” she says, and you laugh with her because she’s right.
Ah, it’s a problem with both of them, sort of: you might be doing this whole friends-with-benefits thing wrong. It’s too fun, being with them. It’s supposed to be all cool and casual, but it’s possible that you’re getting attached. One minute you’re fucking strangers and the next they’re both your friends.
It’s a bad idea, considering you know both Yuqi and Minnie are fucking around with more people than just you: there’s that thing Bona said about Yuqi bringing someone to the club, and then there’s the fact that Minnie’s always marked up - the telltale scratches of nail marks down her back, thighs; hickeys, bruises. A lot of them are from you, but there are also a good amount that aren’t.
“I’m fucking a demon,” Minnie sighs, when you ask her about it, and for once she’s not talking about you. “Takes up a lot of my time.” She presses her thumb into a particularly nasty hickey right at her inner thigh, smirks, says, “Believe me, it’s nothing that I wasn’t begging for.”
It should be a mistake, crossing lines - but you’re having a great time. You won’t look a gift horse in the mouth; you’re happy right where you are. You won’t complicate it. You’ll take them as long as they’ll have you.
(This is what you’re thinking about, so in hindsight, maybe it makes sense that you miss all the signs.)
-
It’s probably only a month and a half in, or a little longer. There’s this mutual obsession going on, with you and Yuqi, with you and Minnie - your phone’s always blowing up, you’re always, always busy. Your coworkers tease you for it and you couldn’t give less of a fuck. You’re moving fast and it’s exactly your speed.
i’m coming over, you text Minnie - you’d agreed to after both your classes had finished. It’s late afternoon, and yesterday you’d accidentally spent half the day playing some gory new horror release with Yuqi. Minnie’d left you rambly voicemails, like she’s in the habit of doing, and you’d responded in kind. You two are so often on the same wavelength, guessing at moves before they’re made.
So, so often - but not today. You’re about to knock on her front door, but then you realize it’s already unlocked.
“Minnie,” you call. You let yourself in; you’ve done it before. “You really need to stop leaving your door unlocked.” You shut it behind you, round the corner - “Seriously, babe,” you’re saying, making your way into the kitchen, “one of these days someone’s just gonna-”
You stop short.
Because Minnie’s here, but she’s got her eyes screwed shut, and she’s bent over the kitchen counter, moaning, writhing - a mess, hair a wreck like it’s been tugged at, a series of hickeys so raw on her collarbone they look like actual bite marks, like there might’ve been blood drawn - and she’s getting absolutely, completely railed from behind by-
“Yuqi?” you sputter.
Yuqi’s got her hand wrapped around Minnie’s neck, her fingers tight around the column of her throat - she’s so in it, and there’s that look on her face, that vicious way she fucks when she’s fucking you, all over her here, now - and then she looks up, and her dark eyes find yours.
“Oh, fuck,” she says, and pulls her strap-on right out of Minnie in one smooth, slick move.
You’re staring, jaw halfway to the floor. Yuqi’s so thrown she keeps blinking hard at you, like she has no idea what in God’s name you’re doing here right now; the feeling’s mutual, because nothing about this makes sense, not even a little bit - Yuqi and Minnie - Minnie and Yuqi, together-
“What the fuck,” pants Minnie - she hasn’t noticed you yet, somehow. She’s whining, distraught, clinging to the lip of the countertop for dear life. “What the fuck, Yuqi - put it back in.” She reaches blindly behind her, her perky tits bouncing, sweat beading along the curve of her back. “Yuqi, Yuqi-”
“Sweetheart,” says Yuqi, and clamps her hand down on Minnie’s shoulder with the sort of firm, authoritative familiarity that indicates she’s beyond used to leaving marks on Minnie’s body. You recognize it immediately - you do the same thing. “I’m not gonna put my strap-on back in your ass. My fuckbuddy’s here.”
Well, there’s a lot to unpack there - but first-
Your eyes zero in on Minnie’s freshly fucked asshole, just as Minnie turns her head and spots you standing there.
“Oh, fuck,” she echoes, lost for words, for breath. Then: “Wait - your fuckbuddy?”
You’re floored, you’re speechless, you can’t even reconcile it: this whole time the two of them have been occupying opposing corners of your mind, Yuqi hilarious and quick-witted with a bite, a brutality, Minnie with her hysterically funny laugh and her mile-a-minute way of speaking - in your head, they should never connect, they should never cross paths, they should never be here, with Yuqi bending Minnie over her kitchen counter and filling her ass with a strap-on-
“Let’s get some clothes on,” directs Yuqi, and it’s the first time she’s ever made a proposition like that in front of you. “Seems like we have a lot to work out.”
-
“Let me get this straight.”
You’re gathered on Minnie’s couch - Minnie’s in an oversized t-shirt, leaning on the side, consciously avoiding putting any weight on her ass. Yuqi’s got her hands spread out on Minnie’s coffee table like there’s a puzzle she’s putting together. “You first fucked Minnie at the party I invited you to-”
“You invited him?” Minnie asks, startled. “Well - I mean, thanks. I guess we never would have met if it wasn’t for you.” She shoots you a grin, impressively cheeky considering you just walked in on her getting her ass fucked; oh, that’s Minnie for you. When it comes to sex there’s no shame she feels, ever.
“Shut the fuck up,” says Yuqi, not unkindly. “No - what I’m saying-” She locks her gaze on you. “Is that you knew that I invited you to a party at Minnie’s apartment and you still didn’t realize she and I knew each other?”
“Oh,” you say - okay, that’s your bad. “I guess not. To be fair, you didn’t tell me whose apartment it was-”
“Yes, I did, you fucking dumbass. I even pointed at Miyeon, who was, like, a foot away from us-”
“Oh,” you say, again: well, you completely forgot about that part. “Sorry. That’s - yeah, that’s on me. I just remembered that you said it was one of your bandmates, so when I met Minnie, I obviously didn’t think-”
“Dude.” Yuqi has a hand pressed to her temple. “Minnie’s in my band.”
Your mouth falls open. “Really?”
So, it’s all unraveling pretty quickly: Minnie and Miyeon are roommates, which you probably could’ve put together if you’d mustered up an ounce of critical thinking, but - hey, you’ve been having incredible mind-blowing sex, lately; no one’s gonna blame you for that fogging up your brain. Minnie’s the flaky keyboardist that Yuqi complains about constantly, the one Miyeon was replacing the night they performed at Club Cosmic - it’s unraveling, but it’s all coming together. Minnie and Yuqi have been fucking since before you met either of them, apparently. It’s a whole thing, or at least that’s what they tell you. Lust at first sight, claims Minnie - clearly there's a story there, but they're not saying it yet.
“Maybe I’m stupid,” says Yuqi, staring from you to Minnie. “I knew Minnie was fucking someone else because she always had crazy bruises all over her every time I saw her, but she just told me she was having sex with a demon, so I just took that at face value, I guess.”
“She told me she was having sex with a demon,” you say, in disbelief, and Minnie dissolves into her obnoxious, infectious laughter.
“You’re both stupid,” Yuqi decides, pointing an accusatory nail between the two of you, fingers flicking fast. “You’re both morons who only get away with having fucking worms for brains-”
“Jesus,” you say, biting back a smile, because she’s at her best when she’s dishing out insults.
“-because you’re hot. That’s it.” Yuqi sighs, frustrated. “If you weren’t both so sexy you’d never get anywhere in life.”
“Thanks,” chirps Minnie - if there’s one thing she knows how to do, it’s take a compliment.
In the end, maybe it’s not so hard to understand: Minnie loves being bossed around, ordered and roughed up and fucked senseless. Yuqi’s just like you - it’s no wonder she’d love having Minnie like you love having her, whining and submissive, ready to get dragged through hell and back and beg for it. You've kept them separate; they've kept you separate. It's a comedy of errors you're not even sure qualifies as coincidence: you think of Minnie, the night you first met, saying fate with a grin like she knew something you didn't - maybe she's always had a point.
So, that’s where your conclusions land: “I think we can just keep doing what we’re doing,” says Yuqi, eventually, shrugging and rising to her feet. “I guess it shouldn’t really change anything. We can all just keep doing our own thing.” She says it like it doesn’t really faze her, and it’s Yuqi, so it probably doesn’t.
“Yeah,” you say, slowly, because it is happening to faze you - just not in the ways you’d expect. Minnie’s glancing between you and Yuqi like she’s trying to calculate all the combined marks you could leave on her; she’s thinking what you’re thinking, but she won’t say it out loud. “I guess so.”
“Sick,” says Yuqi, in that hilariously flippant way of hers, and Minnie laughs so hard she accidentally rolls onto her clearly sore ass. “Well, see you later.”
Minnie sobers up so quickly it’s almost comical. “Wait, what about-”
“Baby,” says Yuqi, and there’s the sin creeping into her voice, flames flickering in her irises. She loves having the last word, so she’ll take it. “If you wanna still get your ass fucked, ask your other fuckbuddy. I’m sure he’d be happy to take care of you.”
She smiles, too adorable for the filth coming out of her mouth, and leaves you and Minnie to it.
-
Well, she would, except-
“Oh, hey,” says Miyeon, slipping into the living room. “I just passed Yuqi on my way in.” Her gaze lands on you, and she grins. “I guess you guys finally figured it out, huh?”
“Are we dumb?” Minnie asks, genuinely.
“Yeah,” says Miyeon, sweetly, blinking her Bambi eyes at the two of you like every Disney princess personified. “Both of you are stupid as shit. Don’t worry - you’re both pretty enough to make up for it.”
She kisses the top of Minnie’s head as she passes, and that’s when you realize exactly how much Miyeon’s been fucking with you this whole time. These girls - and maybe both Yuqi and Miyeon are right, and there are dots you should’ve connected weeks back, days in.
Well, you’ll give yourself some leeway: you’re here now. Journeys, destinations, whatever the fucking cliché is - you’ll let everything slot right into place.
-
You all know where this is going, but it still takes a week and a half for it to happen, give or take.
Look, you’re all returning to form - you’ve taken out space in your schedule for both Yuqi and Minnie, but it’s still pointedly separate; you know they’re doing the same. You’re still fucking Yuqi in every single public place imaginable, and you’re still making your mark on Minnie like she belongs to you, even though she’s got someone else bruising her neck like she’s trying to leave a collar. There’s a power play there, somewhere, between you and Yuqi: who can ruin Minnie more, who can push her to her breaking points. It’s almost like foreplay. It dials up your sex with Yuqi to something intense, something with sky-high stakes; you fuck like you might be playing for keeps.
“Oh, hey,” says Yuqi, one day, trying to get a rise out of you. It’s a lost cause; she’s taken over for a video game you’re playing together, and her head’s on your shoulder. “Minnie just sent me a text.”
“What?” There’s another reason the rise is unsuccessful: “She just sent me a text. A video, actually.” A video, and then an accompanying message: for your eyes only <3.
“She sent me a video,” says Yuqi. “And she said it’s for my eyes only, so fuck off.”
You wordlessly tip your phone screen towards Yuqi, and that’s the final straw: Yuqi laughs until her shoulders shake and she’s hiding her face in your collarbone, her pink hair tickling your neck. “Shit,” she says, and you can hear her grin in her voice: something you’ve learned is that no matter how much Yuqi teases Minnie, she’s also a little bit obsessed with her, too. “Let’s see what our girl wants, then.”
“Our girl,” you mimic, loving it, and then you both press play.
-
It just so happens that the video’s of Minnie pounding her own pussy with a dildo until she squirts wildly, and every sound is amplified, obscene - her sopping wet pussy, her moans, squeals, screams-
Neither of you are laughing now. “It’s the same video,” Yuqi says, voice suddenly low, husky: it’s a telltale sign, sirens beginning to wail. She looks up at you and you catch that look in her eye, like she’s on the verge of something violent, murderous. “Isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” you say, throat dry - there’s nothing more you can say.
“Well,” says Yuqi, and lets her phone clatter to the coffee table. There’s a tilt to her expression that’d send bystanders running for cover, if they could see her now. “Let’s show her that we can make a little video of our own.”
-
There’s a group chat made just to send the video: you’re slipping, crossing the clear lines between the three of you. Oh, you’re past worrying about propriety - you’re sending a sex tape, sending Yuqi on her back and getting her pussy railed by your cock, the two of you fighting as much as you’re fucking - it’s brutal, and it’s hot.
“Fuck,” says Yuqi, when she watches it back, pulling her clothes on again, mesmerized by how hard you’re fucking her, by how merciless it is - like you could’ve actually hurt her and you wouldn’t have cared. You’re caught on the threats she’s biting out, just as enthralled. “We should film ourselves more often.”
“We should,” you agree - there are fantasies waiting to happen, erotica writing itself - and then you press send.
-
LMFAOOOO, Minnie texts back, once she sees it. the iphone quality…. HAHAHA
its even in portrait mode omfg im crying
wtf, you say; the quality looked great to you.
i’m gonna beat the shit out of you, says Yuqi, somewhat inappropriately. don’t pretend like it didn’t make you wet
oh it def did, Minnie replies. you guys are unbelievably hot when you fuck. im stupid horny im not denying that
im just saying….
if i ever make a sex tape im totally using one of my nice expensive cameras for it
i’m sure the 20 other people you’re regularly fucking would really appreciate that, says Yuqi.
:( says Minnie. dont slut shame me its mean
also you two are the only people im regularly fucking
just
for the record
Yuqi makes an odd, thoughtful sound, out loud, perched on the edge of her bed.
“You’re thinking about it,” you say, knowing.
“I’m not,” Yuqi says, but her bottom lip’s tucked between her teeth. “I keep my fuckbuddies very separate from each other. It’s transactional, or whatever.”
“Right,” you say, amused by her stubbornness. You’re a little too close for you two to convincingly be just strangers who’re hooking up, anymore. You’re too friendly, too comfortable with each other - that’s a hurdle you’ve already cleared. “Transactional. That’s why I’m sleeping over here tonight, right?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Yuqi grumbles - and that’s how you know she doesn’t really have to be convinced.
-
It’s inevitable, and you know it. It’s all that anticipation, stacking to skyscrapers. You’re over at Minnie’s place one day, and you’re drinking coffee at her kitchen counter, sharing some waffles Miyeon’s boyfriend made earlier - it’s all very domestic, kind of. Minnie’s studying you, carefully, her eyes startlingly green and watchful, like there’s a thread she’s tugging at and hard.
“What’s up?” you ask.
“I’ve been thinking,” begins Minnie.
“That’s new.”
“Shh,” says Minnie, mildly, tapping her nails across the table. “I’ve been thinking,” she continues, “that it’s actually fucking ridiculous that you and I and Yuqi haven’t had a threesome yet.”
“Oh,” you say - you’d be more shocked, but like you said, Minnie’s got no shame in regards to anything sexual; she likes what she likes and loudly. “I’ve been thinking that too. But Yuqi seems… you know. She’s really dragging this out.”
“I’ve noticed,” agrees Minnie; she sees how inevitable this all is, too. “It’s crazy. She loves fucking you and she loves fucking me. It’s, like, basic logic.”
She’s gorgeous, she’s scheming: you see Minnie lick her lips, like she’s picturing Yuqi’s touch all over her - you’re thinking of the possessive way Yuqi wrapped her hand around Minnie’s neck when she was fucking her, imagining the way she’d bitten at Minnie’s collarbone - Minnie’s the single most fuckable girl you’ve ever met, and there’s Yuqi who exerts power during sex like she’s taking out her grudges, like she’s wielding weapons - just the concept of it is enough to drive you nuts-
“We can set it up,” you say, and you think Minnie can see your train of thought all over your face. “You and me and her.”
There’s all this new territory to explore, maps to make and trails to mark. “We can,” says Minnie, tilting her head. There are oceans behind her eyes, seafoam and salt, wet and wild and fatal. “What’d you have in mind?”
-
You put your plan in motion a day later, because patience is a foreign concept when it comes to the three of you. “Call her,” you’re mumbling against Minnie’s mouth, her spine already curving to your fingertips. There’s an ambush happening, battle plans being drawn - you’re in Minnie’s living room, and you can’t keep your hands off of her. “Before we get too far.”
“I texted her before you got here,” Minnie says, and you can feel her grin at your lips. “She’ll be here soon. Go as far as you want.”
That’s a request with tempting parameters, so you’ll take it: a split second later and you’ve got Minnie pinned to the couch, her tiny waist in your hands, your teeth scraping across her neck. “I will,” you say, darkly, and you’re already in it. “I’ll do whatever I want with you.”
“Please,” begs Minnie - she’s rapidly losing composure, but she’s always this easy, this wanton and ready. “Please.”
You can’t deny a plea like that, so of course you get carried away: your fingers slip up the hem of her shirt, find her tits; she’s underneath you and then you’re switching to the top of her denim skirt, tugging at belt loops, finding the button and undoing it-
The front door slams.
That’s your cue. You fall into it practically pre-rehearsed: you and Minnie dramatically break apart, you tumbling off of her, her catching her balance on the arm of the couch. “Oh!” gasps Minnie, wiping her mouth, spilling her eyes wide - they’re dark and sweet and guileless, today; she’s playing her parts perfectly. “Yuqi - oh my god, sorry, I-”
Yuqi’s standing with her arms crossed, and maybe your efforts might’ve been in vain - you can tell by the look on her face that you’re already caught.
“You guys think you’re so fucking slick, huh?” she says.
Minnie rakes a hand through her hair, glances slyly over at you. “We’re not?”
“No.” Yuqi’s advancing, distinctly predatory - her eyes are stuck on Minnie’s unbuttoned skirt, on your hands against Minnie’s lithe frame, like you might be minutes from ripping her apart. “You’re stupid, and obvious. If you wanted to seduce me, there are better ways to do it.”
“You’re fucking both of us,” you point out. There’s that fire sparking in her eyes, and it’s already over: you know how she looks right before she gives in. “We don’t need to seduce you, Yuqi. You’re already obsessed with us.”
“Obsessed is a strong word,” says Yuqi, flatly.
She says it, but already her voice has gone gravelly, gained that razor-blade edge. She’s closer now, standing above the two of you sprawled on the couch: you see her fingertips drop, dig under the waistband of Minnie’s skirt, pressing into her hips. Minnie’s mouth has already fallen open, pupils blown - Yuqi’s barely done anything, and Minnie already looks like she’s seconds from begging to get on her knees-
“Bedroom,” Minnie says, climbing to a whine, rising on unsteady legs. Yuqi laughs; she clearly loves Minnie’s desperation just as much as you do. “Please. I have - there’s something - please.”
Yuqi cuts her eyes across at you, takes Minnie’s face in her hand. There’s something so intoxicating about the height difference between them, how Yuqi stands just a little shorter than Minnie and she’s somehow still got her in the palm of her hand, wrapped right around her finger, or several-
“Use your words, gorgeous,” purrs Yuqi, and the way she talks to Minnie makes your head spin, sends a lump to your throat: like she’s so sure of her hold over Minnie, her complete and utter control. You’ve imagined it so many times since you first caught them together - it’s another thing entirely to see it in action. “You got us both here, yeah? We’re right where you want us.”
She tugs on Minnie’s jaw - a demand, not a request - and then Minnie’s ducking her head to kiss her.
It’s instantly sloppy, filthy - they both love it messy and you know that from experience, in every way, every context - and Yuqi’s slipping her tongue into Minnie’s mouth like she’s she’s seconds from ravaging her, and there’s the telltale glint of teeth, raring to annihilate-
Minnie gasps suddenly, pulls away quick. Her hand flies up to her bottom lip. You catch the mix of pain and exhilaration all at once - it’s barely started, and there’s already been blood drawn.
“See?” Yuqi’s looking at you now, smirk pulling sharp like knifepoint. “Someone likes it when I bite.”
“You’re insane,” you say, but you’re standing, now, so caught up in it. You meet her match, blow for blow - Minnie just takes and takes and takes, loves it like she’d drop dead for it. Yuqi makes her bleed and you can see it all over Minnie’s face: she’s never been more turned on in her life, trapped between the two of you. “You’re the fucking devil.”
“Sure,” says Yuqi, and clips Minnie on the hip, knuckles blunt. “C’mon,” she orders. “Talk to us.”
“I have one of my cameras,” Minnie blurts out, thin and high and reedy. “In my room.”
“Oh,” says Yuqi, and raises an eyebrow at you. “That’s an idea.”
It certainly is: it’s one that’s got you straining against your jeans, dropping you right into animal instinct - Yuqi’s similarly riled up, pulling at your wrist, at Minnie’s waist. She’s waited long enough. She never goes far without getting exactly what she wants.
“Then let’s go,” she’s saying, and it’s not something up for debate; with Yuqi, it never is. “Let’s go.”
-
There’s the three of you and all that build-up, all the weeks in the making; Minnie’s already half out of her mind, sprawled on the bed like she knows you and Yuqi are about to fuck her within an inch of her life. There’s a strap-on on the nightstand. You’ve got a lightweight camera in your hands and it’s filming.
“Does this camera have, like, a microphone on it?” you ask, somewhat clueless.
Yuqi snorts, rolls her eyes - it alleviates the moment, but barely. “Don’t worry about it,” says Minnie, hands twitching, eyes flicking from you to Yuqi like she doesn’t know who to start begging for first.
“Nuh-uh,” Yuqi tuts, noticing - she’s so impressively attuned to Minnie’s every move, picking up on giveaways like it’s nothing. You recognize it: she’s the same with you, knowing right when to bite and snap and apply pressure. “You can be patient. You’re the one who was desperate enough to trick me into coming here.”
“No,” says Minnie, and points to you. “I promise you it was totally a team effort."
“Watch it,” you say, tamping down laughter - it’s really not the time.
“Yeah,” agrees Yuqi. “I fucking hate snitches.”
Minnie's infectious giggles fill the room, and you’re seconds away from joining her - but all of a sudden, Yuqi’s shoving Minnie’s shoulder, pushing her farther down the bed. “Like I was saying,” she says, and suddenly her fingers curl around your wrist, “you’re the desperate one here, Minnie. I think we’ll make you wait. Plus,” she adds, to you, and all of a sudden she’s facing you fully - the two of you are standing, and Yuqi’s back is to the footboard of Minnie’s bed, her eyes with a challenge. “She likes to watch.”
“I could’ve guessed that,” you say, and slip Minnie the camera. “She’s always struck me as the voyeuristic type.”
Yuqi’s lips are wickedly red, curled at a corner. “I’m shocked you know what that word means.”
“Okay,” you snap, and you’re in it now, finding your ground - your hand flies to Yuqi’s hair, wraps it around your fist and tugs. Yuqi lets out a sharp noise, somewhere halfway between a yelp and a moan; you hear her breathing start to pick up, the rise and fall of her chest. “I get that you don’t want to seem weak in front of your little pet here-” You jerk Yuqi’s head towards where Minnie’s curled up on the bed, jaw dropped, still and staring- “but that doesn’t mean you can take up an attitude with me, darling.” Your thumb snags at the side of her mouth, scrapes her chin. “So cool it.”
“It’s so fucking funny that you think I take orders from you.”
There’s a time to use words and then there’s a time for force, time to prove how much bigger than Yuqi you actually are - you let your hand drop from her hair and start to go for her face, find a way to manually shut her up - but she gets there first, digs her nails into your forearm and claws-
“Jesus fucking Christ,” you hiss, skin stinging - she’s pushing you farther than normal, she’s putting on a performance. Well, you won’t mind putting one on too.
In seconds you’ve got her twisted around, one elbow knocking against the footboard - and then your hand’s at her ass and you’re spanking, groping. She’s still got her shorts on, panties, but that doesn’t stop you in the slightest; Yuqi’s squirming underneath you, snapping out vulgarities-
“Get the fuck off me,” she snarls, and you won’t, and you hear Minnie’s uneven, stuttered inhalations from her spot on the bed. She’s probably never seen Yuqi like this - never seen her smacked around and helpless. You know firsthand how addicting it is - Yuqi, with her arrogance, being pushed and put in her place-
All of a sudden, Yuqi’s foot knocks right into your knee, hard, and that’s how she worms her way right out of your arms.
“Fuck me or leave me the fuck alone,” she warns, voice low, dangerous. Her tiny hands are going for your cock, unzipping your pants and dragging them down - you help her along, drunk on the ruthless look in her eye. “I’m not some dumb whore that’ll just let you shove her around. You know that.”
“I’ll give you that,” you acquiesce, and you’re peeling off her shorts, she’s slipping off her top - she’s not wearing a bra, and her tits bounce, nipples hardening in the air. “I’ve already got one dumb whore that’ll let me do whatever she wants to her.”
You turn, and you look right at Minnie.
She’s trembling, the camera in her hands and fixed on the two of you - she’s already such a mess, cheeks flushed and every intake of breath fleeting, unsteady - she hasn’t touched herself, not once. She’s being so good, waiting for orders. She’s fucked you and Yuqi long enough, by now - you two may rough up each other, but it’s nothing compared to what you’ll do to Minnie if she misbehaves. Her eyes are wide, saliva collecting at her mouth; she’s so ready to be fucked, owned, ruined.
Your gaze darts to the camera lens, and you smile.
“Baby,” you say, and there’s a go-ahead she’s been waiting for. “Get undressed.”
Minnie moves quick, frantic - she passes the camera from hand to hand, slips out of her skirt, her tank top - you’ve snuck your fingers into Yuqi’s panties, stroking her drooling pussy; so, looks like someone likes having an audience. You’re with her: you do too. Knowing you’re being filmed is nothing compared to the greedy way Minnie’s eyes follow you as you tug Yuqi’s panties down her thighs, let them drop to the floor. Your shirt’s come off in the interim. You hook one of your hands under Yuqi’s knee, push her leg up, zero in on her cunt, dripping wet-
“Minnie.” You snap your fingers at her. “Play with your pussy.” Your cockhead brushes against Yuqi’s slit, earns the whistle of air through Yuqi’s teeth. “I wanna see you squirt before either of us even touches you.”
You don’t even have to look at her to know if she obeys - oh, it’s Minnie, and she always will - and then you’re stuffing Yuqi’s pussy with your cock.
Yuqi chokes on her own moans, head tipping forward; you don’t even give her time to adjust to the stretch before you’re pounding her, thrusting your cock deep, deeper, the pressure of her cunt almost overbearing, overwhelming - she always matches your pace like it’s nothing, her eyes on yours, the intensity something euphoric in itself, watching her eyebrows knit and her breath trap itself in her throat-
Your hand’s back in her hair, keeping her stare locked on yours like a gunfight, watching her try to keep from completely losing it in front of you, or Minnie - it’s all that pride, like it’s the only thing keeping her standing. One of these days you’ll break it out of her, but you won’t deny it: it’s so fucking hot watching her try to keep from falling to a slutty, squealing mess.
“Oh, there you are,” you say, condescending - you’re never gonna pull back from a taunt. “What were you saying about not being a dumb whore?” You tug her face so close to yours that your noses brush. “Because it kind of seems like you’re just all talk now that you’ve got my cock in your dirty fucking cunt.”
“I don’t think I’m the one who’s all talk,” Yuqi bites back, words shot and shattering. She’s so small compared to you that when you bury your dick inside of her it wracks her whole body, makes her shiver: no matter what venom she spits at you, she can’t fight the physical. “You’re barely even fucking me, you limp-dick asshole - are you even trying?”
You laugh out loud - you know Yuqi’s really loving it when her insults get nonsensical, so obviously untrue it’s something straight out of a comedy routine. You thrust harder, dig your fingers underneath her thigh; Yuqi can talk shit all she wants, but you see the way her eyelids flutter, her lips parted in pleasure she’s trying her hardest to deny. It’s no use - she’s clenching, she’s soaking your cock.
“Here you go again.” You hook in your blunt nails to her pale skin, make her gasp with the sudden pain. “Trying to act all high and mighty in front of your little fucktoy.” Minnie whimpers from the bed - she’s got three fingers inside her own cunt, she’s being almost as aggressive as you are with Yuqi - you’re just waiting for her to drench the sheets. “You don’t want her to know that you’re just as much of a greedy little slut as she is, huh?”
“Please.” You pick up the pace - Yuqi cries out, tries to talk herself through the way your cock’s destroying her - it’s a very valiant effort. She’s so close, so fast - her body can’t hide that from you. “No - fuck - no one’s as much of a greedy slut as Minnie is.”
The degradation’s like a return to power, for her: that wild, sharp smile appears on Yuqi’s face, even now, sweating and slick and shuddering tight around your cock. She’s seconds from breaking and she’s still got that ego, slicing through it all. All those jokes about fucking the attitude right out of her - oh, you’ll never be able to truly do it. You fuck her like you want her dead, like you want to kill her - she looks you right in the eye like she’s saying you can’t, and anyone who tries better run.
You’ll do the next best thing, instead: you’ll make her fucking cum.
You drop her hair, slide your hand down to her throbbing clit. “Well,” you say, and match her smirk like you’re trading blows, “you’re sure giving her a run for her money.”
Yuqi opens her mouth - she’s got some poisonous reply ready, or she must - but then she’s rocked with an orgasm so intense that any trace of it melts straight off her tongue. That’s one thing, all on its own - but there’s Minnie, on the bed and taking instruction beautifully, squealing, squirting-
You’ll get to her, in a minute. You fuck Yuqi all the way through it, let her fall pliant, winded, on the verge of collapse - she’s white-knuckling one of your wrists, her collarbone shiny with sweat, and you’re still burying your cock deep in her cunt, overstimulating - you’ll get there, you will-
“Wait,” Yuqi manages, breathless, wavering, cutting her gaze over to Minnie. “Don’t cum inside me. Save it for-” It breaks off, comes back doubly punishing. “For this fucking cumslut.”
You both glance over at Minnie at the same time, at the soaked sheets, at the camera she’s gripping like a lifeline, trained on the two of you. Yuqi gets off your cock, sinks to the end of the bed, thighs damp and shaking - she’ll take her reprieves, her relief. You’ve still got a load to spill. You can handle Minnie all on your own.
Minnie’s wiped from her own orgasm, cum clinging to her fingers, but the moment you get close to her she’s already perking up: she knows what her place is, here. You drag your eyes pointedly from the squirt-stained sheets underneath her to her toned legs, her dripping cunt, her hips, waist, ribs, the hard points of her nipples - Minnie shifts under your scrutiny, like just you looking at her sets her aflame - and your hands find the column of her throat, then the fine line of her jaw. Minnie waits, completely willing, passive - she lets you touch whatever you want like you own her.
“Did you like that, sweetheart?” You brush your palm across Minnie’s sweaty forehead, thread your fingers through her hair. You can’t get over her eyes, when she’s like this, so turned on she’s going out of her mind - so dark and dazed and needy. “You liked seeing Yuqi get put in her place?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Yuqi retorts, still gripping the bedframe - as long as you’re in the moment, it doesn’t matter how hard you fuck her, how many times you make her cum: she’s always going to snap back.
You grin at Minnie, conspiratorial like you’re sharing a secret. “She’s cute when she’s angry, huh?”
You’re not expecting it, so it actually shocks you when Yuqi lurches forward to go for your neck, her fingers wrapping tight around your throat. Her eyes are glimmering, dangerous, some feral animal just waiting for the kill - you stare right on back, pulse pounding in your ears - she’s never sexier than when she’s like this, like she’s right on the brink of murder. She’s seconds from strangling you and you can’t resist her.
“Keep fucking talking,” says Yuqi, remarkably steady for someone who just came all over your cock, “and you’re never gonna fuck me again, you got that?”
That’s a threat she’ll never make good on, but she’s so criminally hot that you let her have it.
“Fine,” you say - you’ll throw up the white flags.
“Great,” says Yuqi, and then she dips to kiss you, loosening her grip, letting you go. “Give her hell.”
The camera trades hands out of necessity alone - Yuqi takes it, rests back against the bedframe - and yours find the flare of Minnie’s hips, thumbs pressed against the raise of her hipbones, against bruises you’ve left before and you’ll leave again. “Alright,” you murmur - Minnie’s blue nails are a flash against the sheets where she’s tangled her fingers in them. You’re canvassing her body, all that ground to cover. “I guess you deserve at least a little bit of a reward for being so patient.”
Then you deliver an open-handed slap against her waiting cunt.
Minnie screams - in the foreground, there’s Yuqi’s cruel, stunning laugh - and you’ll take it as a soundtrack, a lead-in - you smack her cunt again, harder - Minnie wails in pain, in consuming pleasure: that’s how it all starts, and you shove your cock deep inside her.
She’s so fucking wet - between the shrieks spilling from her lips, you can hear the sloppy sounds of her pussy as you’re pounding her, the noise obscene, sin audible like it’s made a home of her voice - and you’re so rough with Minnie that you swear you could rip her in two, or die trying. Oh, maybe you’re showing off - Yuqi’s with that camera, on the corner of the bed, her view picture-perfect-
Maybe - but part of it’s that fucking pussy, part of it’s the writhing, the squealing, part of it’s how Minnie’s begging for more, more, more-
“More?” This time, your hand finds her flawless face instead of her cunt, but the slap’s a lightning strike, just as loud. “Sounds like someone is getting a little spoiled. You do realize that you’re just a stupid fucking toy for Yuqi and I to use - you get that I don’t give a fuck about how you feel, because your slutty fucking pussy is just going to squirt the moment you get a cock inside you-”
Minnie does actually squirt, then, clear liquid spraying everywhere - there’s Yuqi’s laugh, again, so openly delighted-
“Yeah, you hear her laughing at you?” Another slap, and then you bring your attention to Minnie’s throat - you can never keep your hands away from it for long. “It’s because it’s so fucking funny how easy you are, Minnie - how you’re just a dumb, desperate fuckhole-”
Minnie’s eyes squeeze shut, and you feel how it rolls through her whole body, the sheer, stunning humiliation, how she eats it all up-
“And we’ve got it all on camera, baby.” That’s the thing that does it - it’s one thing to fuck her and it’s another thing to fuck with her head, and that’s everything else: the slapping, the choking, the way you talk to her like you couldn’t care less what happens to her - “You can’t go back now, sweetheart. Now we’ve got all this hard proof of just how fucking greedy you are to get fucked like a bitch - now everybody can see for themselves how much you love it.”
Minnie’s got tears rolling down her cheeks, now - you’re gonna cum, and you know it - but you can’t hold back from getting the words out of her.
“Minnie,” you say, expectant, sinister - you press down on her throat, and then you finally let go. “Tell the camera how much you love it.”
You can actually feel Yuqi getting closer, playing her role - she’s not even touching Minnie, and yet the smugness is coming off her in waves, and it’s that ego, that undisputed power, and it’s building up, and up, and up-
“I love it,” sobs Minnie, babbling to the point of incoherence, slurring, weightless - and you think you might’ve finally broken her. “I love it - fucking love it - I’m fucking useless, I’m just a hole for you to fuck and cum in - I don’t care if everybody knows, I want everybody to know, it��s what I deserve-”
“Damn right,” says Yuqi, and she’s right at your shoulder, camera lens doing slow circuits from Minnie’s pussy to her face - there’s her cunt stuffed full of your cock and wrecked, there’s her expression with every profane bit of pleasure written across it, like you might’ve taken a pen and scrawled fuckdoll on her forehead, branded her yours - oh, that’s an idea for a different day, and Yuqi’s eyes are a reckoning, her voice slicing like glass-
“That’s our filthy little fucktoy.” Yuqi’s nails are against your back, claws at your shoulder blades - each time you thrust in and out of Minnie, they scrape against you, stinging - and it’s doubling the senses, the feelings, pushing it all to the edge - “Just dying to get that pussy filled up with cum - he’s ruining your tight fucking cunt, huh? I’ll be surprised if you can even fucking feel anything after this, stupid fucking whore-”
Minnie cries out, shudders, squirts violently around your cock - Yuqi digs her nails into your spine, hard - you’re groaning out loud, cumming like you’ll never stop-
“Oh, you think it’s over?”
All of a sudden, the camera’s getting pushed into your hands, and Yuqi’s shoving you backwards - the moment you pull out, the load you spilled into Minnie’s cunt starts leaking out onto the already drenched sheets - and then Yuqi flips Minnie over, drags her ass to her crotch - and you don’t know what it happened, but Yuqi’s stepped into the strap-on, and she’s positioned the dildo right at Minnie’s leaking cunt, still full of your cum and dripping.
“What do you think?” You pose it like a casual question, conversational - your fingers slip through Minnie’s hair and tug, getting a pained yelp - you’re talking about her like she’s not even there, and she’s obsessed with it. “She hasn’t had enough?”
“I don’t know,” Yuqi says, and places the flat of her palm on the smooth line of Minnie’s back, smirk glittering, treacherous. “I think she can take a little more.”
Minnie’s so far gone, and it’s all over her face - she’s practically limp, eyes glassy - you think if you weren’t both holding her down she’d just float away, mindless, choking on her own overwhelming pleasure - she’s in heaven and hell all at once, and it must be fucking killing her-
“Are you okay with having my sloppy seconds?” you ask, but it’s less malicious than most things you say when you’re pushing Yuqi’s buttons. You’ve struck up an alliance, here. You’ve got a common goal, a girl as your collective property - for once, you’re on the exact same side.
Yuqi laughs like she knows it, the sound gorgeous, godless - in a second she’s kissing you, licking hot into your mouth. “This cunt’s always sloppy,” she says when she pulls back, callous, saliva stringing at your lips. Her hand settles on the curve of Minnie’s ass, smacks down hard like it’s her right. “I think I’ll make my peace with it.”
There’s smoke in the room, or there must be - Yuqi’s hubris is suffocating, cloying, the hottest thing you’ve ever seen - and she jerks her hips sharply, harshly, and buries the dildo deep inside Minnie.
“Oh my fucking god-”
Minnie’s gasping, incoherent; it’s dirty, it’s filthy - Yuqi fucking your cum deeper and deeper into Minnie’s pussy, slapping so hard at Minnie’s ass that you know it’ll turn red and bruise - and Minnie’s drooling, screaming, begging for it-
“You like it when it hurts, huh?” says Yuqi, the devil on her lips, and she’s so unforgiving with her, so careless - you see the way Minnie’s striking eyes roll back in her head and you know it’s the only way to ever properly fuck her. You could treat her nice, but it’d never make her this fucking wet. “You like being used like a worthless fucking cockslut? You like knowing the only thing you’re fucking good for is to be fucked and spanked and filled with cum?”
You’re rounding the bed, you’re at Minnie’s sloppy mouth - it’s a mouth made to be fucked and you’ll get your turn. “I think you should answer her, baby,” you tell her, first, tapping at her pouty bottom lip. “Yuqi doesn’t like being ignored.”
Minnie looks up at you, uncomprehending, and all that comes out is complete fucking nonsense, words without a sentence or sentiment to stick to - “Fuck,” she slurs, and you swear she’s losing more than her voice. “Fuck - cockslut - hurts - I love it, I love - fuck-”
“Sorry, darling,” you say to Yuqi, faking all your sympathies - and then you promptly shove your cock down Minnie’s throat. “I think we might’ve fucked the cognitive functioning out of her for the time being. Oh, fuck-”
See, like you said, you can handle Minnie on your own - but it’s so much more fun handling her with Yuqi.
The look on Yuqi’s face is carnal, devastating - Minnie’s got one cock in her mouth and another in her pussy, and you’re both so messy there’s barely any rhythm to it - and Yuqi latches onto the moment, takes advantage. There’s a thought here, one where the two of you are switching off, filling up the one hole you haven’t touched. Yuqi’s eyes slip down between Minnie’s ass cheeks, then back up to you - you’ll get there in the future, but Minnie’s sobbing, slobbering around your cock, and for now-
“Sure,” replies Yuqi, and cants her hips hard - it’s an image you can’t look away from, her pink hair wild and her thrusts deliberate - she looks like she was made to fuck Minnie like this, like she can do better things with a strap-on than anybody else would be able to do with their real dicks. She’s just got all this control, she’s unbelievable, she’s got the whole world in the palm of her hand, begging to bend to her will-
“But - personally - I think this slut’s always been completely fucking brainless,” Yuqi adds, smirk cutting and crooked - when she fights, she’ll fight dirty - and Minnie squirts for the final time.
You’re jerking your cock, dumping your cum into Minnie’s mouth. She barely swallows any of it, lets creamy white spill down her chin; Yuqi pulls out of her, and she collapses to the bed, entirely limp. Yuqi’s tumbling off to the side, pushing sweaty hair off her forehead, so visibly pleased with her handiwork - she’s fumbling with the strap-on, but you think if given the chance, she’s be tracing every line of Minnie’s body with delicate hands, fingertips trapping sweat and slick-
She gets the strap-on off, and you’ll let her get there - but first, you think she deserves one more orgasm.
“Yuqi,” you say.
Yuqi looks up at you, and for the first time all night she’s lost her guard, let it fall. “Yeah?”
In two seconds flat you’ve tugged her across the bed, and you’ve got your grip on her like there’s a point you’re proving. Three fingers in her cunt, your other hand rubbing furiously at her clit - the camera’s on an angle on the bedspread, and Yuqi’s cunt is wide open for you, already raw and pink and wrecked, already so close to the edge-
“Fucking cum for me,” you demand, and it’s one order she won’t mind following. “Fucking cum.”
There’s those throaty moans, spilling from her lips - there’s her pussy clamping down around your fingers-
She cums, and that’s the finale you’ve been waiting for.
When you slide your fingers out of her, there’s a lull, finally, a peace treaty signed and delivered. It’s not silent - there’s the panting, the loud pull of air into your lungs - but it’s something close, significant. You’re calling a ceasefire. You’re pulling the camera and you’re yelling cut.
Yuqi leans back against the bedframe, her hand finding your wrist; she draws your cum-drenched fingers to her lips, sucks her own orgasm off your fingers. It’s so hot, but you’re past that. Minnie’s not unconscious, but she’s almost there - she’s completely drained, mouth slack and salivating, her cunt and her throat so thoroughly used that she’s got cum spilling from both holes. The sheets are never going to recover from this - you already know that.
You don’t know how long it is before you speak, but then you do.
“Think about it,” you say. Yuqi glances at you - Minnie rolls over, and you’re still not sure if she remembers how to form words. “We could’ve been doing that the whole time.”
“We would’ve killed her,” points out Yuqi, lips tripping up at a corner, gesturing towards Minnie’s virtually lifeless frame.
Minnie’s smiles spreads, shows teeth - so, you’re both wrong: she’s more alive than she’s ever been. “Probably,” she agrees, woozy and wrecked. “But what a fucking way to go.”
-
“Jesus Christ.”
It’s a slow crawl back to clarity; Minnie’s still splayed across the cum-soaked sheets like she doesn’t have a damn care in the world. She’s grinning stupidly, gorgeously. You can’t take your eyes off of her. She says, “I wouldn’t mind making that a habit.”
Her voice is hoarse from screaming, shot and scratchy. You can’t take your eyes off of her - but then Yuqi’s laughing, unruly and intensely beautiful, and now you’re stuck on her like you’d never want to look away. These girls: they’ll be the fucking death of you.
You smooth a hand over Yuqi’s hair, kiss Minnie’s sweaty forehead. “You think we can all fit in your shower?”
“Bitch,” says Minnie, mildly delirious, on the verge of laughter. “I don’t think I can fucking move.”
“Well, she’s gone,” Yuqi says to you. She’s rubbing Minnie’s slender shoulders, expression suddenly soft, something sparking in her dark eyes that’s not nearly as destructive as it was five minutes ago. Her eyes shift to you, and the look doesn’t fade. “I’ll run a bath,” she says, quietly, as Minnie’s eyelids flicker closed. “There’s one in the bathroom down the hall. Can you-”
“Water?” you ask, picking up on it immediately - the ease of it’s just another new habit. “I’ll get you both some.”
“Thanks.” The camera’s on the nightstand, the video stopped: it’s something to revisit at a later date. You’re in an entirely different moment now, and it’s nothing any film will ever get to see - you think you can safely say you’re fine with that.
Yuqi sighs, runs her thumb down Minnie’s collarbone. She says, “I don’t know if you can get dehydrated from squirting too much, but I think Minnie probably made it happen.”
You burst out laughing - it’s so sudden, and so crass. Well, you see the situation you’re in: at least it fits. “You’re so stupid.”
“Minnie’s not the only one who got the cognitive functioning fucked out of her.” Yuqi makes sarcastic air quotes with her fingers - even now, she’ll find a way to tease you. “Cut me a break, dude.”
“Dude,” agrees Minnie, mumbling and barely awake. “Thanks for the sex. Best ever in my life. Ever. Forever. I’m going to sleep.”
“You do that,” you say, standing in the doorway, chest expanding, inexplicably endeared. “Dude.”
“Say dude again and I’ll break your kneecaps,” says Yuqi, and her smile matches Minnie’s exhausted one like it’s a scene straight out of a movie, pre-planned and perfect. “Come back soon or we’ll miss you.”
You’re laughing again as you tumble out the door - you’re only getting water, you’ll be back in two minutes, tops - but somehow, you think you get exactly what she means.
-
There’ll be more days, nights, videos - ruination caught on camera and put on replay. You kind of know, even though you never say it out loud: there’s a next time, here, there’s a future and there’s fantasies, a hundred different ways to fuck the two of them. You’ll fall apart, fall back together. It’ll never be just once. You’ll never be able to let this go.
“Yeah,” says Minnie, in the bath, smiling and sweetly contemplative. Yuqi’s stroking shampoo through her hair - you’re tipping water to her lips. “I’m fucked. I think I’m really fucked. Literally and metaphorically.”
“You know what a metaphor is?” Yuqi asks, feigning shock, and you lose it laughing. Minnie’s right: you’re all completely screwed, but you’re in way too deep now to ever go back.
(Oh, well. That’s the thing about a habit like this: it’d be just so terribly tedious to break - so you won't.)
"You've got us," you tell her, and you mean it. "I think you'll live."
-
<3
#kpop smut#kpop fanfic#idol x male reader#gidle smut#male reader#reader insert#yuqi smut#minnie smut#idol x reader#idol x idol
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i just finished reading your fics and i love your writing!! can i request one where dalton paints reader for an art project or something like that? thank you 🫶🏻
A/N: omg thank you so much!! i’m glad you’re enjoying my writing and thank you so much for your request! also i’m so sorry, this is a lot shorter than i intended but hopefully you’ll still like it, pls let me know what you think <3
Word count: 1k+
Warnings: fluff
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Muse
Talent. That's the word professor Armagan used to describe Dalton.
Of course everyone in her class was talented, there’s a reason they were in art school and not failing, but Armagan was captivated by Dalton’s creations since the moment he stepped into her class. So she is always looking forward to seeing what he is gonna do next.
“For next week, I want you to look deep into your heart and find your very own muse” Armagan said turning the projector off “I wanna see how you perceive someone you love, someone who inspires you, someone who ignites your creativity and use it to make something so personal only you could truly understand it”
Dalton’s mind instantly went to Y/N, he already takes a lot of inspiration from her, thinking about the little details that make her so unique and beautiful and incorporating them into his art. He gathered his things as the professor dismissed the class, in his mind already making a plan on how to ask Y/N to be his muse without it sounding weird or creepy about it.
Luckily, she promised to help him put up new paintings on his wall so maybe he could ask her then. He just had to figure out how… and build up the courage to.
Later that day, after collecting what he wanted on his wall, he heard a knock on the door. His hands started sweating and his heart started beating faster. Why was he feeling so nervous? Well, he had a massive crush on his friend, and he was almost 100% sure she already knew it but if she didn’t, this might be the confirm she needed.
“Hi” He nervously said as he opened the door, finding her standing on the other side with a big smile “Sorry for the mess”
“Please, we’ve seen worse” Y/N replied entering the room “I wasn’t sure what you use to mount things on your wall so I bought a few options”
Dalton watched as Y/N pulled out different mounting tapes from her backpack “This one will work” He said grabbing one “I don’t really have that many things to put up so this should be quick”
Y/N dropped her belongings and took a step closer to him “That’s okay, do you have everything ready?”
“I do” Dalton pointed to the other bed, where a few of his sketches laid flat on the mattress to keep them from wrinkling. Grabbing a big one, he walked towards the other wall, mentally arranging the pieces before committing to mounting tape. He stood there for a while without saying a word, just scanning his wall and the sketches already in it.
“I’m guessing you didn’t think this through” Y/N placed a hand on his shoulder, looking over it at the board he was holding ‘Woah’ She thought to herself.
“I thought I did but I don’t think I have enough space” He chuckled, going back to the bed and grabbing a new one. This time a smaller one.
Y/N followed him and wondered what the rest of the sketches were “May I?” She waited for Dalton’s permission before looking through the drawings.
“Are these new?” Y/N asked, admiring the pieces in front of her. They were awfully beautiful. She has seen his art before, like a million times, but it never failed to amaze her. She was impressed at his ability to portray emotions so clearly and she loved how he found beauty in the little things.
“Yeah” He confirmed before clearing his throat “Listen, professor Armagan asked us to make something… inspired by someone” He shook his head in disapproval at his poor attempt to explain his homework.
“Mhm” Y/N hummed, not really paying attention to the words falling from his mouth, her mind was still focusing on Dalton’s new pieces.
“Like a muse I guess” He continued “That’s the word Armagan used, so I was wondering if I could maybe, uh- draw you or something like that, only if it’s not too weird, hopefully it isn’t. Anyway, I just wanted to ask you first, seems like the right thing to do” He started babbling but Y/N knew exactly what he was asking. She raised her eyebrows in amusement.
“You wanna draw me like one of your french girls?” Y/N asked as a joke, using a fake accent.
“What?” Dalton’s pure expression of shock made Y/N laugh “No- I just- I didn’t mean it like that”
She burst into laughter “You’re cute” She said, and Dalton felt his face turn red. He lowered his head, his long hair covering his current state “You can, but you better make me pretty”
Dalton looked at her, meeting her eyes as he weighed his potential answers carefully. Nearly all of them seemed suggestive and that’s the last thing he wanted right now “I won’t, I could never”
“Good, so how do you wanna do this?” Y/N sat on the chair next to her, crossing her legs.
“You don’t have to stay here and pose, if that’s what you’re worried about”
“Not what I’m worried about” She whispered.
“I was thinking you could share with me your favorite picture of yourself and I would work something out” Y/N grew a little self conscious as she thought of Dalton staring at her picture for too long “Or is that too creepy?” He asked in a worried tone after not receiving an answer.
“No, it’s not” Y/N reassured him with a chuckle “I’m sure I can find one you can use” Y/N pulled out her phone as she navigated her gallery.
“Are you sure?”
“Oh my god, Dalton. You need to calm down” Y/N stood up and rested her hands on Dalton’s shoulders “I’m sure you’ll do an amazing job, as always” Giving him a soft smile, she sat on his bed signaling for him to take the spot next to her “I’m honestly excited to see it, and I’m glad i’m finally getting a spot on that wall”
#dalton lambert#dalton lambert x reader#dalton lambert fluff#dalton lambert fic#dalton lambert imagines#insidious#insidious 5#insidious the red door#ty simpkins#horror films#dalton lambert imagine#dalton lambert smut
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I just wanna say that I absolutely LOVE Butterfly. It’s kinda the only fanfic I care about at the moment lmao I am LOCKED IN. The story itself is great, all of the characters (even the ones everyone hate rn) are interesting, the writing is phenomenal…I could go on and on.
I have a few thoughts I wanted to get out of my head. These aren’t suggestions (cuz it’s your story and I trust where you’re gonna take it), it’s moreso just kinda be me rambling lol:
Sasuke- I know you’ve mentioned he’s going to show up again later, but I’m so anxious to see the role he’s going to play. I don’t really want it to be a romantic thing with Hinata (I am a firm NaruHina lover lol) but I would love to see him be some kind of a protective friend for her? In my head he and Hinata already know each other; like they had some type of group therapy for traumatized teens or after she was removed from her dad’s care she was temporarily in a group home where she met Sasuke and they got to know each other idk. He knows her story and the pain she deals with, and is able to relate in a sense. So he doesn’t want to see her be taken advantage of. Idk, again this is NOT a suggestion lmao just rambling.
Strength- I would argue that Hinata’s the strongest character in the story so far. Even stronger than Naruto. She’s been thru absolute hell and suffers with severe anxiety and depression. The fact she struggles with suicidal ideations and is still making the choice to live is a testament to her strength. I hope that as the story progresses, Hinata starts to recognize that in herself.
Naruto- love the way you write Naruto in this; the chapters in his pov are some of favorites tbh. As someone mentioned before, I too would love to get a few jealous Naruto scenes. Especially since he’s starting to actually *see* Hinata and recognize his attraction to her. I’m assuming that as the story progresses, Hinata will grow into her own person and become somewhat independent of Naruto (like getting her own friends); is that something Naruto might feel threatened by? Since he does have a selfish streak and is immature, I wonder if he would have an issue with keeping Hinata all to himself.
I think those were the main ramblings I had. Chapter 8 is my absolute favorite so far cuz of the cute NaruHina moment we got. I know smut is probably a ways away but I cannot WAIT till we get to it cuz you are one of my favorite smut writers tbh. Anyways that’s all for now. Can’t wait to see what you have in store for us!
Thank you so much! 🙈💕💗so so so happy you're enjoy the fic that much 💕makes my heart do cartwheelssss 🏃🏾♀️🤸🏾♀️🏃🏾♀️💗☺️🫶🏽 and thank you so much for dropping love in my inbox, I absolutely adore you all that do I swear 🥹
Ahhhh, you have some really interesting ruminations🙈
Sasuke- Surprisingly a lot of readers have been waiting to see how Sasuke fits into all this🤭I've gotten some incredibly creative scenarios and prediction from commenters and anons that I've actually added to his role and even moved his entrance up in the timeline😄This is a very interesting scenario and I really, really like it a lot! So many people really want a protective friend Sasuke and I can't say the idea isn't unbearably adorable 💕
Strength- You hit the nail on the head for sure🫡💕Hinata's inner strength is one that's often overlooked, underestimated and underappreciated when compare to more overt forms of strength, or socially constructed ideals of what it means to be strong, and I've really, really been wanting to make a point in the world of fanfiction, specifically the Naruto fandom of fanfiction, that strength is not always aggression, violence and bitchy attitude 🤦🏽♀️ because I've seen, for years now, this narrow, short sighted standard of who is strong and who is weak being perpetrated and it's always, always bothered the crap out of me 😤With Butterfly, I'm hoping to open minds and break molds we've been taught to believe are absolute👎🏽but are actually highly subjective👈🏽
I swear, so many of my fics are 'break the mold' type fics, lol, I think I just like to nay say the nay sayers, ya know, shine light on areas and topics that many may make negative assertions and toxic assumptions about while in reality, know very little about the subject matter at all. I think it opens the door for more compassion, understanding and inclusion ️🫶🏽 and honestly, that's what I'm all about.
Naruto- I love, love, love me a Naruto POV 🙈idk what it is about Naruto in particular since I love most make POV but it is soooo much fun being in his head 🤭Butterfly!Naruto and Prey!Naruto are two of my fave Naruto POV's to write in, both are so much fun in different ways 😄For sure Naruto's gonna have his jealousy moments, he's too hot headed and selfish in Butterfly not to🤭Its definitely not out of the realm of possibility that he'll feel some type of way about not being the center of her attention🤔right now, he's the golden boy, he's got the coveted place at her side, he's got exclusive access nobody else has, losing that, well, he might not be too keen on it🤭although, he's been trying to introduce her to his friends and help her with her speech problems, so maybe he'll take it as a source of pride that he's help her find her confidence🤔that's why I love this Naruto 🤭he really can go either way. Like, on one hand, he can be sweeter than cotton candy, some real tooth rotting sweetness, but on the other hand he can be a selfish asshole making scummy choices just to get what he wants😅he gets tunnel vision, and the only thing that matters is reaching his goals by any means necessary. He's just a really fun character🤭
I super duper appreciate you leaving your ramblings here!! I enjoy each and every one of them!
Chapter 8 is near and dear to me too!! I enjoyed writing it so, so much, the cuteness almost melted my laptop 🙈💕
I cannot wait to do more sweet bonding scenes for them ️🫶🏽 that's honestly why my fanfics be so long, I get so caught up in just enjoying and marinating in NaruHina love 🙌🏽its like a virus I never wanna get rid of 😫
Smut is indeed a ways off, but I can't wait to get to it too 🙈 and tys, I'm honored to be one of your faves💕
Thank you, thank you for dropping by!!! I really loved seeing your ramblings! 🫶🏽
#ask#answer#butterfly#naruhina#ramblings#this was very enjoyable!#so much I can't wait to get to for butterfly!
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Heyyy can I send in an emergency request?
For context, my whole family is sick and they're putting the weight of the world on my shoulders at this point 😅 usually I can handle it pretty well but today is just not it. Everyone is in need of something and I'm quite literally only one person, I'm burnt out already.
So I was wondering if you could do something with sanemi, giyuu, and obanai when they have a burnt out partner who works as a nurse of sorts? I'll let you have creative liberty on this. Thank you! <3
a/n : i’m a bit lazy to tag this properly but it’s gender neutral & fluff <3 sending loads of hug and hope you can rest soon and get your energy back !!
GIYU TOMIOKA
the moment you’re back he would help you into more comfortable clothes
take you into the kitchen and here is the dinner he prepared for you
giyu would sit there listening to everything you have to say and provide comfort
if you’re not too tired he would propose to watch your favourite movie or show together
cuddling on the couch
but if you’re really tired he would run you a quick bath to make you relax and then take you to bed
OBANAI IGURO
he ordered your favourite food to cheer you up
sits there and listen to you, providing a bunch of advices ( that you’re gonna ignore if you wanna keep the job … )
would read for you as you take a bath
obanai helps you putting on comfortable clothes and then proposes to cuddle in bed
as much as he’s not a fan
but his lovely partner is in need 🫡
would remind you that you’re an amazing hard worker and that you’re doing the best you can everyday
SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA
sanemi would joke saying “just quit this job”
because he sees how tired you are
but, you love it and he’s here for you
helps you bathing and takes his time washing your hair
would even feed you >_<
he tries his best to prepare your favourite dish so you might smile at him tonight
takes you to bed and kisses your forehead, murmuring about what an amazing person you are and basically praise you
#📂 — writing !!#little side note. giyu not complimenti and praising bc i believe he shows love with actions >_<#giyuu tomioka x reader#obanai iguro x reader#sanemi shinazugawa x reader#kimetsu no yaiba#kimetsu no yaiba fanfic#demon slayer#demon slayer fanfic
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Hogwarts Legacy Incorrect Quotes Part 4 (feat. my Hufflepuff!MC, Ellie)
Sebastian: Dear Diary, my teen angst bullshit now has a body count.
***
[At some point in the beginning of the game. Let's pretend that teachers are concerned with bullying]
Professor Weasley: What would you do if one of your classmates viciously teased you again and again?
Ellie: Oh, that’s easy. I’d take a quill—
Professor Weasley: To write something to your teacher?
Ellie: —make sure that it’s really sharp, and ram it into their eye at full tilt! Leander always says the quill is mightier than the sword because they can’t outlaw bringing quills to school!
Professor Weasley: *internal screaming*
***
Sebastian: I have yet to encounter a problem where an Unforgivable Curse didn't factor into the solution at least in some way.
Anne: This is why uncle doesn't fucking love you!
***
Ellie: You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast?
Leander: Several school rules violations.
Ominis: Three counts of using my relations.
Garreth: Roughly thirteen vials of my latest experiment.
Imelda: Also, I used the enchanted bludgers to hurry them up.
***
[MC keeps using her friends to break into Ravenclaw common room]
Ravenclaw knocker: What is a dream?
Ominis: Dream - the first thing people abandon when they learn how the world works.
[the door opens]
Ellie: That's too dark, edgelord.
***
[After Astronomy lesson]
Garreth: Ellie has no survival skills, her need to win has replaced them.
Amit: That can't be true!
Garreth: Watch this.
Garreth: Hey Ellie, race you to the bottom of the stairs!
Ellie: *jumps from Astronomy tower*
***
[After she and Poppy freed a dragon]
Leander: What in Merlin's name is wrong with you??
Ellie: What? No good morning?
Leander: Good morning, what in Merlin's name is wrong with you??
***
[The squad gathers in the Room of Requirement]
Ellie: Alright, listen up you psychos.
Ellie: Not you, Amit. You’re an angel and we’re thrilled you’re here.
***
[In the goblin mines]
Ellie: We have fun, don’t we, Amit?
Amit: I have never been more stressed out in my entire life.
***
Ellie: We are not mad, Sebastian. We are just disappointed.
Ominis: No, we are mad.
Ellie: Yes. We are. We are livid. But we are going to let this one slide.
Ominis: No, we’re not!
Ellie: I am not a mind reader, Ominis!
***
Duncan: Everett, Ellie keeps bullying me, what should I do?
Everett: Ask a teacher for help.
[The next day…]
Duncan, to Professor Ronen: Will you help me beat up Ellie?
***
Professor Weasley: Godric's heart, how would you explain this kind of crude behaviour?
Sebastian: I'm gonna have to say verbally.
Ellie: Because judging by that tone of voice...
Garreth: ... You might not be in the mood for the dance performance we've prepared.
***
Ellie: That has to be the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen.
Amit: For the benefit of everyone present, I will clarify this is not a challenge.
Sebastian, Poppy, Natty & Garreth: Awww...
***
Ellie *going on another quest*: If there's going to be a big dramatic scene, wait until I get back.
Poppy: Of course, I can't flip this table by myself.
***
[AU where Leander and Ellie are the ones who fight a troll in Hogsmeade]
Ellie: Just stay calm! You already have everything you need to beat it!
Leander: The power to believe in myself!?
Ellie: No, you already know Diffindo! Slash it!
***
Sebastian: Am I going to far?
Ominis: No, no, no. You went too far about 2 weeks ago. Now you’re going to Azkaban.
***
Ellie: *sneaking in Hufflepuff common room late at night*
Poppy: *sitting on a sofa and casting Lumos* You want to tell me where you've been all night?
Ellie: I was stargazing with Amit?
Amit: *sitting on another sofa and also casting Lumos* Wanna try again?
***
Ellie: I have so much energy, I want to compete with Imelda or commit a petty felony... which should I do?
Leander: Please don’t get arrested.
Ellie: No promises!
Sebastian: Why not both? Get creative!
Ellie: Wonderful suggestion, thank you.
Leander: Please don’t encourage her, Sebastian.
***
Amit: Small creatures are much more vicious because they have a smaller body to bottle up all their emotions.
Everett: Ridiculous. Give me some examples.
Duncan: Puffskeins?
Samantha: Cornish pixies?
Ellie *chilling in Ravenclaw common room*: Chomping Cabbages.
***
[the Squad at flying lesson]
Garreth, Leander, and Amit: *flying normally, enjoying the view and talking*
Imelda, Poppy, and Ellie: *flying past them, as fast as they can, chasing Duncan who is screaming*
***
Poppy: Could you at least try to see this from my perspective?
Natty: *crouches down*
Imelda: *kneels down*
Ellie: *sits on the floor*
Poppy: ...
Poppy: I hate all of you.
***
Ellie: *falls down the stairs*
Amit: Are you okay?
Leander: Stop falling down the stairs!
Duncan: How’d the ground taste?
Ellie: *getting up like nothing happened*
Ellie: *releases Chomping Cabbages*
Duncan: Mom, pick me up, I'm scared.
#hogwarts legacy#incorrect quotes#hogwarts legacy incorrect quotes#hogwarts legacy mc#sebastian sallow#professor weasley#leander prewett#ominis gaunt#amit thakkar#garreth weasley#everett clopton#samantha dale#imelda reyes#duncan hobhouse#poppy sweeting#natsai onai#anne sallow
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