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skzdarlings · 1 year

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the heist team | the threesome series ; skz ; minho/reader/changbin

masterlist.

threesome series part 2/4.

pairing: lee minho/reader/seo changbin content info: sexual content. threesome. friends2lovers. very cheesy criminal heist shenanigans (very "we're in" style hacking and some laser grids lol). "fake" kissing, getting sexy as a distraction, giving sex directions, sexual tension that gets resolved. pussy eating, dick sucking, coming inside. purple haired minho bc meow <3

The camper van was the best idea you ever had. It is much easier to enact dastardly schemes while inconspicuously hiding in plain sight.

On the outside, the van looks like any civilian camper, but the inside is a veritable den of high-tech con-artistry. It has a place for Minho to hang the get-ups for his grifting gambits, a compartment for Changbin to store his weapons and down-time dumbbells, and it has the sexiest, sleekest, most mouth-watering computer apparatus that has ever existed. You love it more than anything in this world.

Every job, you sit in the midst of your beloved computer screens, directing the operation while your boys do the ground work. Despite knowing of your undying love for this system, your best friends and partners-in-crime are presently trying to separate you from your baby.

“Is she calling the computer her baby again?” Minho asks from where he is getting dressed behind a curtain.

“Yes,” Changbin says. He is sitting in your computer chair with his arms distractingly crossed, his biceps bulging in his tight black shirt. He is wearing a lot of lycra, having formerly anticipated he would be doing physical work tonight.

That all changed when you realized the nature of tonight’s job.

You only ever target the obscenely rich, the kind of wealth that is obtained through its own nature of theft and villainy. Tonight’s targets are a bunch of pompous elites celebrating themselves. Upstairs is a gala kicking off a week-long set of dinners, auctions, and celebrations. Downstairs is millions of dollars worth of art and antiquities, set to go up for auction the following day.

It looked like a typical job, the kind where Minho could sweet-talk some fools while Changbin punched some security guards and you hacked the vault from the van. The security system around the haul turned out to be far more advanced. Operating with a form of artificial intelligence, it essentially learns as it goes, meaning hacking it from the outside is incredibly difficult as it will understand and respond to invasion. It will be easier to outsmart from the inside, where you can reach your hand into its virtual heart and pluck its digital ventricles one by one.

The boys do not have that kind of computer knowledge. So now Changbin is in your chair, Minho is doing his make-up, and you are waving around an emergency cocktail dress.

“Who’s gonna watch my baby if I’m in there!”

“Yah! Rude woman! You remember who helped you build this thing?” Changbin pats one of the computer towers to make his point. “I can do the basic work in here, but I can’t do your complicated nerd things.”

“I’m not a nerd!” You definitely are. You stare at the cocktail dress morosely. “You’re forgetting something super important. That I am a total weirdo and I panic whenever someone looks at me! There’s a reason I don’t do the people side of things! That’s what you guys are good at!”

“Technically I just hit them,” Changbin says.

“You are plenty charming when you want to be and you know it,” you say.

Changbin folds his hands behind his head, flexing all his muscles while grinning.

“How charming?” he teases, cocky. “Describe it to me.”

“Shut up.” You hit him with the cocktail dress to hide the fact he got you genuinely flustered. “I can’t go in there. People will know I don’t belong the second I walk in the room. We won’t even get close enough to the computer bank for me to disarm it because they’ll get one look at me and throw me out the window.”

“That won’t happen,” Minho says. His changing area is behind you and you hear the metallic slide of the curtain opening. “Because you won’t be going in there alone.”

You don’t even have to turn around to know Minho looks devastatingly gorgeous; it is written all over Changbin’s shocked face. His arms lower from behind his head and his cocksure expression shifts, his lips parting as he stares past you.

Despite having the benefit of bracing yourself, you are still struck dumb when you turn and look at Minho. It was always in the plan that Minho would serve as a distraction at the gala. To stand out accordingly, he dyed his hair with temporary dye this morning. The vibrant purple was more amusing than sexy when his hair was messy, but now it is neatly styled back, slick and off his handsome face. He is dressed all in white, his asymmetrical suit partially slit at the side to show some skin. There is an extra sparkle from his jewelry, plus the lightest dab of glitter in the sharper contours of his face. He is practically glowing.

He knows he looks good. His mouth quirks in a little smirk at your expressions. You and Changbin are both gawping at him, and it goes on long enough that his eyebrows lift and his smirk puckers with a surprised laugh.

“What? Really?” he asks, still laughing at you.

Changbin does an unexpected sign of the cross. You hit him with the cocktail dress again.

“Fine,” you say, mostly to have an excuse to duck behind the curtain because you think you might explode from lust and embarrassment and anxiety all at once. “At least no one will be looking at me.”

You step behind the curtain and snap it closed, leaving the boys to their banter.

You like dressing up so this part is no problem. The problem with parties is other people. You wholeheartedly admit you are better with zeroes and ones than human beings.

You try to focus on the fun elements of tonight: the dress, the glamour, and beating a high-tech security system at its own game. It will be so fun to have a real challenge for once. You know you can beat it but it will definitely push you more than your usual digital adversaries.

Also, you get to look at Minho looking like that. Your view of the boys is usually through security cameras, nestled in your van surrounded by your operating system, so the proximity will be a treat.

You open the curtain, scowling. You do not enjoy socializing so you seldom have occasion to dress up, so you anticipate the boys will lovingly berate you. But when you step forward, Changbin looks at you with the same dumbfounded expression he had for Minho. Minho is sitting on the bench, knees apart and arm slung across the backrest. His expression gets very serious when he looks at you. He shimmies his hips, his knees parting further.

“Turn around,” he says.

The van feels so tense and quiet that you obey, more confused than anything else.

Changbin’s gaze drops to your ass immediately, his jaw visibly clenching. Minho tips his head like he is studying something.

“Thank you,” Minho says.

You face them again, hot in the face. You cross your arms angrily.

“What was the point of that?” you demand.

Minho lifts a single eyebrow. “I wanted to see your ass,” he says, like it should be obvious. “It’s a good one. You should be proud.”

You throw your sweatpants at his stupid smirk. He catches it smoothly.

“Can we just go already?” You punctuate this with a stomp of your foot then storm out of your precious van.

It is very strange being on this side of the operation. You always have Minho and Changbin nattering in your earpiece, but usually you are sitting at your desk wearing proper headphones. It is strange wandering around with a tiny bud in your ear, listening to Changbin report from your usual seat.

You already have control of the hotel security cameras as they work on a separate operating system to the storeroom AI. You replaced the live feed with a looping reel of empty rooms so the security team inside will not see you moving around. It also gives Changbin a bird’s eye view of the gala and the rest of the hotel. You feel anxious at not seeing it for yourself, but you are placated when Changbin whistles and teases, “You two are the best looking there. You would be second best looking if I was there, so you’re lucky I’m not.”

You and Minho both smile, your expressions fond.

Minho gets you in the door with little more than a wink at the doorman. You stay quiet, hiding your nerves as best you can. Minho is a competent con-man and Changbin is plenty reliable so you try to focus on your own tasks. First you need to get to the ground floor network base so you can get the AI to chase your red herring. Once you are in, the AI will start responding, but with your virus acting as a decoy source within the building, you should be able to buy yourselves time to move onto the next phase of breaking down the system.

“There’s a lot of muscle at this party,” Changbin says seriously, no doubt taking stock of all the burly security guards. It is only natural Changbin would be as twitchy as you, also out of his element for the night. “I don’t like not being there with you,” he says.

“Easy,” Minho says in a calm voice. You think it is directed at both you and Changbin. He puts a hand on your lower back and gives you a knowing look. “You’re doing fine,” he says.

You feel like terror is written all over your face. It doesn’t help that Minho draws eyes the second you step into the hotel ballroom, men and women looking at him with the usual desire he draws. They are equally curious to look at you, their eyes on where his hand rests intimately low on your spine.

“I’m gonna hurl,” you say.

“Not a bad idea,” he says. He smiles with so much effortless charm that no one would suspect he is whispering criminal tips. “The best con,” he says, his lips brushing your ear, “is one that is close to the truth.” You shiver as his fingertips brush up your spine. He rests his hand on your nape. “Look sick,” he says. “We’ll say we’re looking for a restroom if someone asks.”

You follow his lead, weaving your way through the party. Looking sick is the easiest instruction to follow because you feel genuinely ill, your anxiety a toxic twist in your gut.

Only when you are wandering the empty hotel corridor do you feel at ease. You feel even more at ease when you find the ground floor network hub. Your first obstacle is a regular alarm code, twelve digits in length. It is obviously too long to guess so you physically unscrew the alarm box and start some manual fiddling. There is no way to fully disarm it without also setting it off, but that’s where your own AI gadget comes into play. You plug in your cypher scrambler and let it do its thing. It flickers through numbers, seeking the correct pattern, learning from its errors. You designed it yourself and though it is always accurate, it takes a while to pull the numbers. You and Minho are forced to hover in the hallway while it gradually reveals each piece of the code.

You are up to number seven out of twelve when Changbin inhales sharply.

“There’s a waiter walking in your direction,” he says. “It looks like he’s taking a shortcut to somewhere else, but you have less than two minutes until he’s on you.”

“What!” You start to panic immediately. “My decipher machine could take longer than that, what do we—”

“Relax, relax!” Changbin says at the same time Minho steps behind you and grasps your shoulders. He makes little shushing noises while massaging you, not that it does much to help.

“We’re good,” Minho says. “It’s just a waiter, not security.”

“I’m gonna get us killed,” you say.

“By a waiter?” Minho asks. He gives your shoulders another squeeze. “Is he going to beat us with a baguette? Hey, hey, relax.”

You are a vibrating bundle of nerves. Minho is not usually the type to dive into a hug but he turns you around and pulls you into his arms. You wrap your arms around his middle and hug him back, hiding your face in his neck.

“Yeah, that will work,” Changbin says.

“Huh?” you say, lifting your head.

Minho is staring into a security camera as if having a mute exchange with Changbin. He nods in agreement, though you still don’t understand.

“What will work?” you ask.

“Distraction,” Minho says. You just look at him with confusion.

“Baby,” Changbin says in a soft tone, “listen to my voice.”

The sudden gentleness of his voice makes you shiver. Your fingers are shaking when Minho takes your hand and rests it over his heart. You look up into his dark eyes as he smiles at you with familiar fondness. You open your mouth to speak but he shakes his head, shushing you gently. His eyes drift to the side in anticipation of an intruder.

“Baby,” Changbin says, his honeyed tone softening your nerves, “Minho is going to kiss you. Just do what I say, okay?”

Your heart skips a beat, your eyes widening.

“You trust us?” Changbin asks.

You nod, answering Changbin, gazing at Minho.

It’s the truth. You might be scared but you have been scared before and your boys always come through. Even when the rest of the world left you behind, when you turned to crime to keep yourself alive, Minho and Changbin were there. They have never let you down. You trust them with anything and everything.

Minho slips his hand around your waist, pulling you close to him. You have been close before, sharing the van, sharing hotel rooms, but this feels different. He looks at you with intent, his handsome face so close, a strand of dark purple hair curled over his forehead. Your hand finds that patch of bare skin when you touch his side. He is familiar and foreign at once, your Minho, and also a character, one who clasps his hand behind your back and ducks down to gently kiss your lips.

“Take a breath, baby,” Changbin says with a little chuckle. “You look like you’re going to pass out.”

“Mmf,” is the noise you make, affirming that observation. It makes Minho laugh, a breath against your lips.

“Waiter is thirty seconds away. You just want to look like a dumb, horny couple that wandered away from the party,” Changbin says. “Listen to me, I’ll tell you what do.”

You nod, sucking in a breath when Minho kisses you again. This time his mouth is a little more insistent, his lips coaxing yours open.

“Close your eyes, baby,” Changbin says. “Let your shoulders drop. Minho has you, it’s okay.”

You didn’t even realize how tense your shoulders were. You listen to Changbin, letting yourself go lax. Minho holds you, as promised, his arms sturdy around your waist as he kisses you deeply.

“Let Minho move you,” Changbin says. “He’s going to lean you against the wall to hide the device, okay? Put your hands on his shoulders. Higher, baby, go around his neck. Just like that. Let him lead you.”

Minho walks you backwards, carefully pressing you against the wall, hiding the dangling cypher scrambler with your bodies.

“We wanna give our intruder a little jump scare, okay?” Changbin says. “Minho.”

That is all the direction he gives Minho, trusting the adept con-man to know exactly what to do. Minho does, his hands sliding down to your hips to pull them flush against his. It arches your back. Your hands are hooked behind his neck and you squeak, your fingers instinctively sinking into his hair.

“God,” Changbin says. The sudden dark colour to his voice sends a spark of heat shooting through you. It clearly surprises Minho too, his lips parting with a caught breath. “You both look hot. Fuck.”

Changbin takes a steadying breath. You and Minho look at each other. You get to see his smirk for a split second, then his mouth is on yours and it is no longer gentle and questioning. It is a demand, hot and wanting, your lips opening with his guidance, your heart skipping beats when he licks in your mouth.

“Do it back,” Changbin says. “You want him to fuck you, baby. Make him believe it.”

You think the him is question is the waiter. Isn’t it? You don’t even know where the waiter is anymore, if he’s around the corner or watching. In the haziness of your kiss, it hardly seems to matter. You kiss Minho back with the same urgency, pulling him closer, whimpering when he bites your bottom lip.

“Fuck,” is the gentle whisper that Minho can’t fight. His brow is crinkled, his eyes closed. He kisses you again, his hands jumping up to gather yours. He laces his fingers with yours and presses your hands into the wall on either side of your head.

“Wrap your leg around his waist,” Changbin says. “Like that, that’s it, you’re okay.”

You lift one leg, shaky and unsure. Minho catches you under the knee and pulls it more certainly around him. He holds you there, his other hand grasping your throat very gently as he kisses and kisses and kisses you. Your hands are still splayed open by your head, thoughtlessly awaiting direction. Your fingers curl into your palm and you moan for real when Minho presses against you.

Minho is a good actor, but the hard shape in his pants is very real. When he grinds against you, so open and soft with your leg around his waist, it draws all those guttural sounds right out of you. Minho makes one back, swivelling his hips in a maddening grind against you. It is all too easy to imagine him fucking you like this, the effortless back-and-forth of his hips, your sweet sighs as he takes you, imagining Changbin there, his breath also stuttering.

You do not forget he is watching all this, especially when he lets another low laugh and asks, “She feel good?”

“Yes,” Minho answers without hesitation, breathing the word against your lips.

“Hold his face, baby,” Changbin says. “Kiss him like you mean it. Ask him to fuck you with it.”

You know what he means by that: to kiss Minho with fervency and heat. You do obey, cupping his face with both hands and kissing him deeply, but the fuzziness of desire mixed with Changbin’s words makes your brain go screwy with want. Not only does your kiss convey that desire, but words rush past your mouth, crashing into Minho’s lips in a breathless flurry.

“Fuck me, fuck me, please,” you say, your voice pitching up into a little whine as you rock against him. “Want you to fuck me so bad, baby,” you say, thinking of both of them at the same. You kiss Minho’s surprised, open mouth, your eyes closed, your voice loud in this hazy space as you say, “I’ve been thinking about it all night. Need it so bad. Please. Want you inside me. Want my mouth on you. Come in me. Come on me. Take me, please. I’m so hot and wet, it’ll feel so good, don’t you want to feel how wet I am? Don’t you want to fuck me too?”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Changbin says, followed by a rush of even more inventive curses.

Minho settles on another simple, surprised, “Fuck.”

Then someone is clearing their throat. Minho jumps, his hands clamping tighter around you, protective.

“Oh, right, this clown,” Changbin says. “I hate that he’s too far away too punch.”

You giggle in spite of yourself, which is good because you think you might simultaneously die of embarrassment. You drop your leg and Minho lets you go, pulling himself together faster than you.

You let him do his thing, sliding a hand through his hair and smirking at the waiter as he saunters over. He makes his little speech, something-something-something a moment alone with the missus, something-something sorry-sorry-sorry. He walks the waiter back around the corner, giving you a knowing glance over his shoulder.

Thank god your cypher scrambler has its act together, even if you are a mess. It takes you longer to right yourself than it does for the scrambler to finish its job. Your hands are shaking as you break into the hub, but muscle memory takes over when you have your mini-laptop open.

Minho joins you a minute later. Your entire body lights up like a firework when he steps close to you. Nothing in his expression conveys anything more than professionalism – his queries are about the job and the job alone – but there is an ache between your thighs that won’t subside. You know he feels the same way as you can see he is still hard despite how much he glares at the wall. He adjusts his pants several times while standing in that closet of a hub with you. You keep glancing at each other, your gazes heady, speaking volumes more than your polite conversation.

When you leave and he puts his hand on your lower back, you shiver. You think you might double over from the persistent thumping of your easily-distracted pussy.

Changbin lets out a long sigh and a nervous giggle. “Good work, team,” he says.

You have worked enough jobs that you manage to set aside your personal feelings for the time being. It is easy to lose yourself in your work, especially when you really have to fight the security system.

You get inside the storeroom. You know it is filled with more traps and alarms so you sit down beside the door and type away on your laptop. You nearly break a sweat with the intensity of your work.

“She’s hot when she’s doing her thing,” Changbin suddenly says.

You lift your head and catch Minho’s eye. He smiles at you. “I agree,” he says.

Your heart starts skipping beats again. You look down at your laptop, feeling uncharacteristically shy under his gaze.

“Don’t distract me,” you say, making both of them laugh a little. You glare at Minho but there is no real animosity behind it.

At least they both acquiesce, going silent while you work. You manage to disarm most of the storeroom. The best you can do for the remainder of traps is trigger their subsequent lighting rigs so you can see them all. A labyrinth of blue light brightens the dark entry room, revealing each laser trigger that blocks your path to the locked compartments.

You look up at Minho whose calculating gaze is already tracing each intricate beam.

“Got it?” Changbin asks.

Minho starts unbuttoning his suit. “Always,” he says, smirking.

Minho flips the blazer down his arms, revealing just a tight white crop top beneath it. His jacket, shoes, and jewelry form a pile beside you. Minho does a few quick stretches before confidently approaching the laser grid.

Before his criminal life, Minho was a dancer, and a good one. He draws the same graceful lines with his body now, making each manoeuvre look easy even though you know it is incredibly difficult.

“He’s hot when he’s doing his thing,” Changbin says.

“Yeah,” you say, biting your lip and watching Minho move. “Gotta agree.”

Minho slips over and under each laser, twisting and bending and sliding with ease. He pops up on the other side with a graceful twirl, throwing you a wink over his shoulder before flipping a switch on the control panel. It powers down the censors so you can scurry across the room to join him.

The compartment door unlocks with your final hacked access code, the door swinging open to reveal your loot. Changbin gives a successful holler into your earpiece, making you and Minho duck with his volume.

“I’ll bring the car around, baby,” Changbin says while you two roll your eyes but smile.

You pack your fold out bags with your selections. One key to success is never being overly greedy. You walk away with a substantial victory nonetheless.

You hurry out of the storeroom with your prize haul. Minho gets dressed again, though he doesn’t button up his jacket. He takes a second to catch his breath while you restore each alarm so nothing appears out of place. When you are ready to go, he takes your hand, smiling. You run hand-in-hand back down the corridor, making a few sharp turns until you find a staff exit. There is a small drop so Minho jumps down first then holds out his arms for you. Though you could make the jump easily, you still let yourself fall into his arms.

He holds you close as he puts you on your feet. You are riding the high of adrenaline and success, your heart soaring, which might be why you so easily surrender to desire. You kiss him, sudden and brief but tantalizing. He blinks back at you with surprise, his face scrunching with that astonished little laugh of his.

You smile at him. A line of sweat dots his hairline and you reach up, smoothing some messy strands of purple hair. The gentle caress changes the whole shape of his face, his eyes heavy-lidded, his breathing harder. You feel yourself change too, your heart pounding against his chest when he pulls you close.

You got greedy with that kiss and greediness has consequences. You are so distracted with each other that you don’t notice the security guards coming at you from the opposite direction.

“Hey!” one shouts. “What are you doing out here?”

You and Minho look over, then at each other. There is no time for conversation. You grab each other’s hands and start running, your bags of stolen goods bouncing on your shoulders.

“Hey!” the security guard shouts again. You can hear their heavy footsteps thundering after you, fast despite their muscle and bulk.

You turn the corner onto a backstreet just in time for the camper van to swing into view. The door slides open and Changbin jumps out. You pass each other, dropping hands so Changbin can dart between you.

Panting, you and Minho watch as Changbin effortlessly takes down the guards.

“He’s hot when he’s doing his thing,” you say, giggling.

Minho laughs, nodding. “I agree,” he says.

Minho takes the steering wheel so you can apologize to your baby for abandoning her. Changbin jumps back in the van and the three of you drive away with another successful haul.

Later, back at the penthouse, Minho takes the longest shower in an effort to scrub the purple out of his hair. You are in your bedroom when he finally emerges. You can hear him and Changbin talking in the living room. By the sounds of it, the purple is still threaded in his dark brown hair, likely to last a few more days. You smile to yourself, listening to their playful back-and-forth as Changbin teases him and Minho snarkily retaliates.

It is tradition after a successful job to have a few drinks and relax. Contacting your fence and taking care of business can wait until tomorrow.

You can hear the usual music playing through the speakers, can hear the clink of bottles and glasses, can hear Changbin and Minho laughing and talking.

You look at your reflection in the mirror. Though you seldom have occasion to wear pretty luxuries, you have enough money at your disposal to treat yourself. You have been changing in and out of different lingerie sets since you got home. You think this one might be just right: a silky black set worn under a lacy black dress that falls to your thighs. It is suggestive but arguably casual. You could just be wearing it as pyjamas, right? Sure. Sure. Totally normal pyjamas for a totally normal night.

The best con is one that is close to the truth, Minho had said. Then he stuck his tongue in your mouth and you begged him to fuck you with Changbin’s help. Even you, who is terrible at reading and understanding people, know what truth was in that charade.

You take a deep breath and march to your bedroom door with determination. You throw it open so hard that it smashes into the wall, startling the boys in the other room. You ignore the crash and scurry into sight, avoiding eye contact.

“Hello,” you say.

There is a moment of prolonged silence then Changbin says, “Hi.”

You look up. They are both staring at you, both wide-eyed, both in sweatpants and t-shirts with their hair undone and fluffy. They look very casual and very surprised. Minho is clutching a beer bottle and Changbin is holding a bowl of popcorn. Both of them are frozen.

You smile a very awkward smile.

“Hello,” you say again. “I am… I am… dressed. For bed. My bed. For being in my bed, like this, as I am dressed right now. I am going to that bed, now, like this. You can… join me. If you want. If you don’t want, then, okay. Hello. And. Goodbye. Bye.”

You run back to your bedroom and slam the door closed.

Other than the soft music still swirling in the air, the penthouse is quiet. You cannot hear the boys, not a comment, not a sound, not a breath.

Then you hear the popcorn bowl hit the ground and a bottle smash. They shove and yell at each other as they stumble on the way to your bedroom. You are standing awkwardly in the middle of your room, hands folded in front of you, waiting as they crash into your bedroom door and curse at each other.

Changbin then very casually opens the door and they calmly walk inside.

“Hello,” you say.

“Hi,” Changbin replies.

You wish thoughts could be hacked like a computer. You cannot think of what to say or do next. You just stare at them and they stare back, although their gazes are considerably less nervous. Their stares are thirsty, drinking you in, looking from top to bottom and back again.

“Turn around,” Minho says, his gaze low.

You meet Changbin’s eye before obliging, slowly turning.

“Okay,” Minho says after a long moment, giving your heart plenty of time to go crazy in your chest. “Thank you.”

You turn back around, just as embarrassed as earlier but not angry at all. You cross your arms over your chest, flicking your gaze between them.

Minho reaches out and lightly punches Changbin on the arm. Changbin looks at him and Minho gives him a look, one you cannot decipher. You continue to stare at them.

Changbin nods at Minho then looks at you. He holds out his hand.

“Breathe, baby,” he says. “You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

You laugh but nod, taking his hand. He wastes no time pulling you close, guiding your hand to his heart as Minho did earlier. He holds your hand there and waits until you make eye contact so he can wink at you.

“I know I am the best looking man you have ever seen in your life,” he says, making you laugh again, “but I’m me. You trust us?”

You look at him then at Minho. His dark hair is still tinted purple, his bare face open and soft as he meets your eye. You smile and look back at Changbin, nodding.

“Always,” you say.

“Good,” Changbin says.

He cups your face and you lean towards him, anticipating a kiss, but he gently turns your face aside. You don’t even have time to be confused before Minho is kissing you. He swiftly draws all those sweet sounds out of you, pulling you towards him. Changbin steps behind you, holding your hips and kissing his way up your neck to your ear.

“Baby,” Changbin says while Minho slows his kiss to something gentle but heated, his tongue swiping at yours. “Listen to my voice, okay?”

You nod, light-headed but eager.

“Good,” Changbin says. “Come sit in my lap. Over here.”

Changbin is strong enough to haul you around. You barely have to move, letting yourself go soft in his arms. He sits on the edge of the bed and puts you in his lap, spreading your legs over his thighs. You stare up at Minho, out of breath, your thighs twitching to close for pressure. Changbin slides a hand down, stroking your inner thigh and making you jump, his other hand tugging down your dress and immediately going for your breast.

Minho sweeps a hand through his hair, taking a breath before stepping up to you.

“Still want your mouth on him, baby?” Changbin asks, reminding you of all the things you whispered in that heated moment.

You nod, whimpering when Changbin slides his hands into your panties and touches you directly. He circles and circles the most sensitive cluster of nerves, grunting and pressing his lips to your neck.

“She’s so fucking wet,” Changbin says. He slips his hand out of your panties and abruptly grabs Minho by the hand, tugging him closer. Minho brings that hand to his mouth, licking your wetness off Changbin’s fingertips. “Touch him baby,” Changbin says. “You see how hard he is for you?”

You can see. You can feel Changbin too, hard under you. Their sweatpants do little to disguise it.

You do not hesitate obeying, tugging on the waistband of Minho’s sweats. Everything feels so dreamy and good, surrounded by touch. It all seems to happen quickly; suddenly Changbin’s hand is in your panties, Minho’s dick is in your mouth, and Minho’s hands are tugging the straps of your dress down. This ends with you drooling messily all over the end of his dick, sucking on the head and murmuring nonsense while Changbin makes you come on his fingers. Then Minho kneels in front of you both, your legs end up over his shoulders, and you find yourself hurtling towards another orgasm on his mouth.

You dress ends up somewhere, the panties too. The bra is barely on, the straps hanging down your arms. Changbin finally kisses you when you are on your back in the middle of the bed. He lays between your open legs, his fingers filling you up as you continue to gush all over his hand. You grab him, squeezing his biceps as he effortlessly moves that strong hand between your legs. Minho climbs up too, his shirt somewhere across the room. He grabs your hands and pulls them over your head, pinning them into the pillows before ducking down to kiss you. You come for a third time before either of them even fucks you.

Then they do. Minho first, with you under him, listening to every direction Changbin murmurs in your ear. You lift your legs around his waist when Changbin says, then touch yourself when Changbin asks, and shudder when Minho comes inside you like you earlier begged.

Then Minho is behind you, holding you, touching you, protective and familiar while Changbin fucks you. Changbin has a surprisingly filthy mouth, continuing to tell you how good you feel and how good you look. Minho is quiet but fully entranced by you, his hands constantly wandering. He slides one hand down and rubs you off while Changbin fucks you. Then he leans over your shoulder and kisses Changbin on the mouth, making Changbin finish too.

The music is still playing in the next room. The three of you lay there in various states of undress, you in the middle, sweaty and messy, the boys panting and gently stroking your arms and thighs.

“I love you guys,” you say. It is incredibly cliché to make a love confession after several mind-blowing orgasms, but you don’t care. You don’t need to play games or tell lies or be good at socializing, not with your boys. You can just be your nerdy self, confessing your feelings even while drifting into sleep.

You smile when you feel Minho kissing your cheek, Changbin giggling on your other side.

“It will have to be big,” Changbin says. “The biggest.”

“Hmm?” you ask, looking at him strangely.

“The diamond we steal to put on your finger,” Changbin says, holding up your hand and circling your ring finger. You laugh and try to pull your hand back but Minho catches it, nodding in accord.

“I agree,” Minho says. He kisses your temple. “I know how criminals work,” he adds. “You’re not getting stolen away from us.”

He and Changbin exchange an affectionate glance over you, nodding at each other, then they are each kissing a side of your face as you squirm and laugh. You swipe at Minho’s purple hair and kiss Changbin’s cheek, then nestle into their arms as they wrap around you, protective as always.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #lee minho smut #seo changbin smut #lee minho x reader #seo changbin x reader #minho x reader #changbin x reader #skz x reader

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xervn · 2 months

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like a french girl 🎨

part 3 - french girl | art major ellie x dance major reader

last chapter | next chapter

ao3 link

summary: ellie had been struggling with finding the perfect model for her art final. that was until she saw you.

18+ MDNI | 3.8k words | slow burn(?), mutual pining, loser ellie, recreational drug use (weed)

a/n: this took so long because im an intp AND a taurus *makes excuses for myself* also tysm to everyone who commented on the last chapter ur amazing and ily ♥

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Ellie’s in nothing but her underwear, legs criss-crossed on her navy comforter; holding a joint between her lips as she tunes the strings of her maple wood guitar. It’s a lazy Saturday, the one day out of seven where Ellie isn’t constantly tormented by homework and art projects.

These days are practically therapeutic for her. Being able to strum her fingers against the nylon strings and relish in the relaxing, skunky smell of cannabis can fix all of her problems. Minus one, of course: getting to know you better.

For now, she’s at peace with doing nothing, that is until a loud ding goes off and the brightness of her phone flashbangs her otherwise dim-lit room. She scowls, exhaling a puff from her lungs as she reaches over for the device. Ellie has friends, but she’s no social butterfly. Her phone is usually dry, especially on weekends. Jesse is definitely with Dina, so unless it's serious; there’s no reason for her to be getting a text.

Naturally, her scowl deepens when she reads that the number is unknown.

???: hii

ellie: wrong number

She opts to toss her phone away, but the next message throws her off track.

you: it’s — !

Ellie’s eyes widen at her screen like your name is a hypnotic spiral. She can feel her heart swelling well within her chest, and she’s left wondering if the weed she’s smoking is laced or if she somehow manifested you. Ellie quickly transfers her blunt in one hand and her phone in the other, straining her thumb trying to type as fast as she can to you.

ellie: oh hdy!

ellie: hey*

you: dina gave me ur number, i hope that’s okay

ellie: yeah ofc it is :-)

ellie: i was planning on giving it to you

Ellie typed that half-lie slowly, weighing how true it really was as she pressed send. It was on her plan of things she’d like to do before dying, but even then she doesn’t think she would ever gain the courage.

you: oh thank god

you: i thought i might be intruding 🙁

ellie: never, what’s up?

you: can i ask you something?

ellie: yes of course aks me anythign

ellie: ask* anything* shut sorry

ellie: SHIT

you: lmao are you okay??

ellie: yeah… forget about that, ask away

you: well i was wondering if you could help me study? im failing my anatomy class..

you: if u can’t it’s okay though!

A sheepish grin spreads across Ellie’s face, as she thinks about all the scenarios that could lead to. To think she’d finally have an excuse to see you after weeks of hoping, of praying for the opportunity. You asked her for help instead of taking other options, especially considering how much easier it would’ve been for you to.

ellie: its no problem, id be glad to help :-)

you: really?? ur a lifesaver els, tysmm

you: when are you free?

ellie: Right now.

ellie: or whenever .

you: let’s meet at the library in 20?

Almost instantly, Ellie’s excitement warps into anxiety. She wasn’t particularly ready to see you and twenty minutes doesn’t seem like nearly enough time to get her shit together. She thought you’d ignore her impulsive desperation of “right now” and set plans for a later date, but, alas, you didn’t.

Ellie rubs her forehead with her blunt holding hand, trying to scratch the itch of her worries away with just her pinky and thumb. Despite her increasing knowledge of you over the past few weeks, she was still incredibly nervous to be around you.

Ellie takes one final hit of her joint before snuffing it out in a doob tube on her nightstand. She sets her guitar against her bed and nearly falls off trying to get up in a rush, even though she has more than enough time to get ready.

She stumbles around the room to put something on, settling with a gray hoodie and a pair of jeans. She attempts to keep her balance as she hastily shoves each leg through her pants; simultaneously eyeing around her room in an attempt to remember where exactly she put her anatomy textbooks.

Ellie hears a familiar ding from her bed and she snaps towards it to pick up her phone, peering at the screen.

you: ellie?

Ellie curses under her breath, scolding herself for forgetting to text you back. She taps on the keyboard, quickly making sure she doesn’t manage another typo before hitting send.

ellie: sorry! yeah i’ll see you in twenty!

you: awesome :)

—

You weren’t ready to see Ellie either, you figured, since it took you hours to actually text her. You made up far-fetched scenarios with the worst outcomes; the one where she immediately deletes your number tormented you for quite a while. Now you’re trudging across campus to meet her, internally at war with your mixed emotions. On one hand you get to hang out with a cute girl and on the other you’re hanging out with a really cute girl. Alone. Zero friends around.

There’s a chance you two might not have anything to talk about. You guys are only mutual friends after all. Even if you guys somehow manage to start a conversation, what if she comes to not like you by the end of it, or vice versa? Not to mention the window incident you’re both hoping the other forgot.

You hesitate in your steps as you reach the library doors. It’d only take a few seconds to spin around and walk back, but how could you leave her there? You thoughtlessly chew on your lip, eyes worriedly shifting around.

You can’t recall any moment you’ve been so anxious about meeting up with a girl before. Not once, not even in a distant memory. You’ve always been the bolder one in your endeavors. The fact that Ellie is the only girl to make you feel this way has to mean something. You slowly pace in front of the doors in an attempt to dissipate your worries, nodding to your inner thoughts and ignoring the probable concerned stares in the distance. You’re the one who invited her, so you’re gonna stick it the fuck through. You couldn’t bail before testing the waters, you’d never forgive yourself.

So you barge into the building, letting the cool air hit your face from the swinging doors; granting you a waft of leather and drying ink. The building was decorated with freakishly tall dark wood bookshelves; so high, there were beige ladders in place to reach the top shelves. As expected, it was quiet, empty and definitely overfunded. Studying has never been your forte and you’ve never stepped in this building; save for a few dance history books. You wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case for everyone else. Thankfully, one pro definitely outweighs those cons. Ellie was going to help you study. Ellie is the reason you’re here at all.

You tidy up your outfit that you diligently put together and roam farther into the library, trying to hold down a smile that’s impossible to hold down. In fact, it completely takes over your face. You need to simmer down your giddiness before you start skipping around. You purse your lips and briefly steady your eyes on the dark, olive carpeted floor ahead of you.

You head towards the front desk that’s just a sunken step away with the intention of asking for directions to the study hall. An older lady is sitting there, glowering with obvious annoyance definitely because of your loud entry. It’s been ages since you’ve been in the library— your failing grade proves that— and clearly you’ve forgotten all the rules with it.

A flash of guilt passes through you and you force an apologetic smile. She returns it with a grunt and you immediately redirect yourself further into the library; aimlessly in search for the study hall.

You’ve been walking around for a solid five minutes and you swear you’ve passed the same fantasy section a million times now. It’d be smart to text Ellie and tell her you’ll be late, but your ego won’t let you.

The looming large, ornate bookshelves certainly don’t make it any easier for you to navigate around.

The question of why the school spent so much money on all this occupies your mind as you venture further. You make a turn around a corner you’ve definitely made before, and you sigh at the familiarity of the area in front of you.

You keep pressing forward anyway, hoping you can manage a new route this time around.

Before you can make another turn, you’re interrupted by drowned footsteps behind you blending into your own, followed by a tap on your shoulder. You flinch at the sudden touch, sharply turning around only to see Ellie looking at you with a downward smile.

“Lost?” She sarcastically presumes, her viridescent eyes taking in your shocked yet relieved expression.

You fiddle with the straps of your backpack between your fingers, shyly glancing around you. “No, I was just… looking for more textbooks.” You nod sagely at your own words, as if you’re trying to convince yourself too.

“Oh? Next to—“ The auburn-haired girl squints at the shelf behind you before adorning a wide grin, “Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets?”

Your brows raise and you follow her eyes onto the obviously fiction-filled bookcase. “Uh, yeah? I’ve got Professor Snape at four.”

Ellie narrows her eyes at you in amused disbelief, trying not to laugh at your adorably dorky excuse.

Dramatically sighing in defeat, “Fuck, okay, you got me.” You say lowly, a bashful smile developing on your lips.

“You passed the study hall five times. I counted.” Ellie goads.

You partially suppress your laugh, mindlessly giving her arm a light smack. “Oh, my god. Don’t tell me that!”

She dotes on your laughter and your touch; whether it was intentional or not. Either way, she’s feeling good about herself now and her previous worries about this encounter floated away, and you could safely say the same.

“It’s a good book though, we can go back and get it. No need to be shy about it.” Ellie quips.

“Shush!”

—

With Ellie as your guide, the trip to the study hall was much easier than you made it out to be. You recognized the big glass windows you passed by often and when you stepped into it, you flushed with embarrassment. It was a direct contrast to the old-fashioned, mahogany colored library you’d been meandering around.

Ellie really could’ve counted the times you walked by, and she really did. The first time, she thought you must’ve seen a friend and left to catch up with them. However, the second time around she realized you might be lost.

She was going to text you and tell you to turn around, but she thought it was cute seeing you walk in circles, ignoring literally every sign in your way. By the fourth time, she could tell you thought you were in a time loop and she found it fucking hilarious. Someone like you, seemingly exceptional in everything but directions. The fifth time came and, of course, she decided she was being cruel and had to come help you herself.

Ellie leads you to the desk where she’s set camp at, and the amount of books and paperwork makes you dizzy. “Jesus, Els. Are you teaching me the entire course?”

She takes a seat before giving you an answer, “Well.. That depends on how bad you’re failing.”

You take a seat across from her, setting your backpack on the floor before resting your forearms on the oak table. “My teacher said I was dumb as fuck and essentially called me a homophobic slur.” You’re exaggerating, obviously, but that was exactly what it felt like.

Ellie scoffs out a sound, unsure of whether to laugh or be offended for you. “Damn... It’s Bill, isn’t it? God, that guy is a fuckin’ prick.” She questions, clearly unsurprised by his actions.

You sit upright in your chair, relief shining through your words, “Yes! Is that his thing?”

Ellie casually leans back, thinking back to when she was a student of his. “Oh, yeah. He’s a blunt guy, shitty filter,” She continues, and somehow you’re both meeting each other’s looks, “But he’s fair with his grades, n’ I know it doesn’t make it any better, but he has a husband. He’s just… old.. and grumpy.”

You try to consider that he is letting you retake a major grade. You guess you could appreciate that somewhat. “True... still, the comment was unprovoked. You must know him well though?”

“Yeah, I took his class last year. We were at each other's throats about coursework n’ shit. Really hard to reason with that guy.” Ellie purposely leaves out the part where she was being unreasonable too, but only for the sake of storytelling, of course. “Then that summer, I saw him at a family gathering.” She finishes off with a dramatic shiver in disgust and you laugh at how endearing it was.

“Anyways, his gaydar is somethin’ else. I can never tell.” She admits, carelessly waving a hand in the air. Ellie’s radar in particular is broken. Shattered, even. She can’t keep track of the amount of times she has stood in the shower, realizing a girl was flirting with her only days later.

“Even with me?”

“Even with you...” She speaks with artificial sadness and a slight sulk.

“Ouch… I’m wounded.” You fake a frown, slightly dropping your shoulders.

Ellie’s eyes fall to your nails; some suspiciously shorter than the others, and all painted in your favorite color. “But… that I know for sure, I can definitely tell.” Ellie comments.

A swarm of butterflies suddenly parade your belly, and you shine a coy smile her way. “They’re not short because of that…” Your half-hearted attempt to defend yourself drips in the lightness of your voice.

Ellie briefly raises her eyebrows with a sly smile plastered on her face, folding her arms over her chest; which, unbeknownst to you, was to shield how hard her heart was thumping. She’s shocked she hasn’t turned into a pile of mush yet, probably thanks to her smoke session earlier.

“I’m serious! I keep my hands to myself.” You continue on, putting in a little effort in your voice for your defense this time. For the most part it is true, lately your mind has been on Ellie, and Ellie only. The thought of random flings didn't excite you, but she did. However, it wasn’t not true that you’ve had a fair share of hookups. You’re in an art school, how could you not?

“C’mon, just yourself? I’m sure you've cared to share.” Ellie playfully pokes around you with her words; nonchalant and prone for a reaction.

Your jaw slightly drops, making your head tilt to the side incredulously. “Wow. What makes you think that?”

Ellie unfolds her tattooed arm to rub her palm against the back of her neck, responding unexpectedly timid, “Hey, ‘m not blind. I know you’re popular.”

You snicker at her explanation and shake your head. “They’re friends. You can be friends with girls even if you’re gay, Ellie.”

“Friends don’t touch you like that.” She notes with an uncharacteristically stern expression.

It surprises you for a second, but all it makes you wanna do is poke fun, tease her, and see where it’d go. “Like what?”

Ellie sighs, reluctantly explaining further, “Like they’ve touched you before.”

“Straight girls are touchy.” You shrug, purposefully ignoring what she tried to imply.

The way you said it so matter-of-factly makes Ellie’s eyes roll. “You know I don’t mean it like– ugh, my judgment is usually fucked up, but that? That I can tell the difference with.” Ellie states with surety.

You narrow your gaze at her, a teasing grin forming on your lips. “What are you jealous or something?”

“Of you or the girls?”

“Oh, the girls were an option?” You playfully remark, but also with honest curiosity in how she’d answer.

Ellie clears her throat and leans forward to place her textbooks into view, trying to hide the blush spreading across her features. She’s not doing a great job at it and you’d love to tease her some more, but you can settle with taking the win for now.

—

Night crept up faster than you both anticipated, the ambient sounds of paper printing and carts rolling by were no longer prevalent. The only thing filling the room is the buzz of the light fixture above and the words you two exchange. The table is cluttered with Ellie’s open notes and some textbooks with neon page markers poking out the sides. It wasn’t organized by any means, but it was a mess you both found easy to work around.

Surprisingly, Ellie is a great tutor. When she saw your paper, she didn’t make fun of you like you thought she would. Instead, she expressed how grating it is to remember all that crap and you shouldn’t give yourself a hard time over it.

To help you memorize the muscles of the body, you guys settled on one area and made up silly rhymes for it. She tried to argue that brachiosaurus was perfect for brachialis even though it didn’t even rhyme. You even gave her the chance to pick a different one, but then she said brachyceratops with a mockingly straight face and you knew she couldn’t be trusted for the task anymore.

The air between you two wasn’t stuffy or silent like you feared it’d be. Ellie made you laugh, not in the breathy forced way you’ve unknowingly gotten used to making.

She made sure you listened to her tips & tricks, made you review your mistakes so you wouldn’t repeat them again.

You hadn’t picked up your phone for anything other than to google things on the subject, and your ringer? Off. Your attention never strayed far from her. That made her undeniably nervous– sweaty, and hard for her to breathe normally, but she could acknowledge how well she was doing.

Ellie’s head is dipped down to a paper you two were working on and you’re openly ogling, wondering how she’d look in a pair of glasses. Flipping through papers, tapping the back of a pen on her inviting lips. You tell yourself you snap back to reality before your mind strays any further.

“If we keep this up, you’ll remember it all in no time” She encourages, eyes still glued on the paper. Secretly, she hopes it takes a little longer. Just a little.

“Thanks for helping me out, Els.” You say, face tilted into the palm of your hand.

Ellie looks up from the paper to give you a smile, but she doesn’t hold her gaze for long. A millisecond later and her blush would have you thinking she had a sudden, terrible fever.

“It’s no problem. It helps me out too.” Ellie points to the examples she sketched out for you with her pencil. She pauses before speaking again, trying to get rid of the sudden dryness in her mouth, “Can I ask you something?”

Studying her expectantly, you lift your head off your hand. “Yeah?”

Ellie fidgets with her pencil, trying to muster up courage. Her mouth feels dry trying to push out the words. “I’m also struggling with a class and uh,” she twirls her pencil in one hand, tucking a sliver of her hair behind her ear with the other, “I was wondering if you could be the model for my art final?” Her question came out whinier than she’d like it to, making her freckled-face wince.

You can sense how nervous she is about asking, but you can’t place your finger on why she ever would be. This is the first time anyone has ever asked you something like this, so in your mind it’s nothing but exciting, especially coming from her. You can already imagine yourself sitting prettily still while Ellie studies you and paints long, fancy strokes on a yellow canvas. “Ellie, are you kidding? I’d love to.”

Her lashes flutter in disbelief, “Really?”

“You’re helping me, so why not? It’s fair.”

“It’s kind of a weird thing to ask. I mean, we barely know each other.” Ellie murmurs, unaware that you have absolutely no idea what she’s on about.

You lift a brow at her. “We will eventually, right? What’s weird about a portrait anyways?”

“It’s not a portrait… Well, I guess it is–“ Ellie sighs into her palm, “I’m drawing you, but…” She cringes before she can finish her sentence.

“A portrait in pencil? What am l missing?” You slowly question.

“Think Titanic.” She grimaces as she waits for your reaction, trying not to bang her head on the table for picking Titanic of all movies.

“Titanic? What does that have to do with…” Your voice trails off, quieting down so you can process what Ellie said. Think Titanic. It's hard for you to connect what the 1997 romance movie had to with this, but when it connected, it connected. The infamous drawing scene was memorable. You’re in awe, not quite sure how to react.

“You don’t have to be fully… y’know..” Ellie insists.

Your face is still unreadable, as if you're lost in thought, and it’s freaking her out. Too many what-ifs are going through her head, all of them gradually getting worse the longer you stay silent. She thinks she got too close to the sun when she had more than enough warmth. She's already preparing herself for rejection, worryingly scouting your face for a hint of revulsion; however, it never comes.

“Oh. Okay.” You calmly respond with a shrug, your face still unreadable; the only difference being a light smile. You could’ve thought about it longer, but you’re so flattered Ellie wants you to pose for her that you rather worry about it later. She wants to sketch your body onto paper. Yours. It sounds vulnerable and a little nerve wracking, but she’s your friend. A friend you have a crush on, sure, but you wouldn’t want to inconvenience her over it. Plus, you owe her now. Really, you’re purely being selfless. At least that’s what you’re telling yourself.

“Okay?” Ellie repeats to make sure she was hearing things right.

“Like I said, you’re doing this for me, so I’ll do it for you.” You reassure, gesturing around to the study session laid across the table.

“Are you sure? You know I’ll still tutor you, even if you say no–”

“— Do you not want me to?” You pout your lips, hoping she hasn't changed her mind already.

“Are you shitting me? Of course I do. I just… didn’t expect you to say yes.” Ellie finally says, absolutely dumbfounded given her hand movements.

You laugh melodically, “Didn’t think that far, huh?”

“Nope.” She answers with a cute embarrassed smile, her blood rushing to her face.

Your phone buzzes, probably a text or notification. You reach out and shove a few papers to the side to get to it before taking a look, only for your eyes to be drawn to the time. “Shit. It’s late. I think the library closes soon…” You murmur regretfully, feeling all too comfortable where you were.

Ellie presses her tongue against her cheek in annoyance, upset that time dared to pass by as fast as it did. “We should get going then, I guess.” She says dejectedly, not wanting to leave you just yet.

You peep her suddenly gray aura and smile warmly towards her. “Can you walk me back to my dorms?”

She nods with subtle enthusiasm and pushes out of her seat, immediately packing all her belongings to join your side. “Yes! — I mean, sure. Yeah.”

—-

The lamp post lights are warm and waning, complimenting the shadows on both your faces. You two walk down the dark flagstone path towards the housing area, chatting about nothing. It’s nice to be able to spend a little more time with her before the night is over. Unfortunately, you guys were drawing closer and closer to your dorm and the feeling of loss came as quick as it left.

“Hey, Els?”

She glanced at you and hummed in response, giving you the signal to continue. “I was wondering if you were gonna be at some party tomorrow? Apparently Dina’s co-hosting it.”

Ellie looks at you quizzically before looking off elsewhere to think. “Why the fuck would they party on a Sunday?”

You snort out a laugh before lifting and dropping your shoulders, “I don’t know, senioritis or something. Will you come though?”

“Mhm, I’ll be there.” She smiles as she speaks, loving how your face lit up by the end of it. Ellie isn’t too fond of parties, but for you? She can make an exception.

You cheer in a whisper tone and it makes Ellie smile harder, her features creasing in adoration. You two finally approach your dorm building. You walk up a step before turning to wave goodbye. She raises a palm in return and you flash her a smile that makes her heart leap before turning into the building.

If Ellie couldn’t tell before, she’s completely enamored by you.

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a/n: fuck jk rowling but i rlly couldnt think of any other commonly known fantasy book :/

taglist: @bready101 @pascals-doll @macaroni676 @khai-le @pedropascalsbbg @seraphicsentences @starlight-savegery @snowy-vee @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @a-little-bit-of-everybody @elliesactualgirlfriend

#ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #tlou2 #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x female reader #ᝰ like a french girl

215 notes · View notes

iiiiiiis-things · 5 months

Text

Y/N MAKES: PANCAKES

pairing: Duke Dennis x femblack!reader

cw: MENTIONS of fingering, kai being a dumbass, agent is your twin, that's it ??

blurb: soooo yeah i rmb watching markiplier makes literally all the time so this may or may not be a series.

a/n: ummm hey ?? 😂 yes ik i've been gone i'm gonna keep it real school is rlly taking over everything so i won't be posting as frequent i'll post like once or twice a month unless it's a reblog.. but in the summer i do intend to be more present !! (may or may not drop something in valentine's day we'll see 😗)

"duke get your ass in here" he walks infront of you and kai to get to his side of the table and you take the opportunity to smack his ass with the spatula

"bae."

*smack*

"dawg."

*smack*

"ouch! nigga stop!"

he turns around giving you a stank eye rubbing his ass cheek

________

"once upon a time, in New York City, the bronx. there was a woman who dreamed a dream. to take the previously made invention of pancakes and turn it into something incredibly new and interesting and zesty." before you could finish your intro kai cuts in from the back

"woah"

"kai shut the fuck up"

________

"i have decided that it should be up to me a fine ass black woman to revive the art of lost art...of pancake... art"

"you're doing great babe"

"duke."

rolling your eyes you take a deep breath and continue on to introduce your 'guest' "but as much as i wanted to, this fine ass black woman can't do it alone i present to you." you slam your hands down on the table creating a loud boom before lifting your hand up to your right

Duke walks into the frame and made the poor choice to get his revenge and smack the hell out of your ass with his spatula, which resulted in you smacking the hell out of the side of his fat ass head "known for his strong ass flipping capability, if he were to flip at 100% capacity he would annihilate the entire universe- and trust me. i know" a smile spreads across your face as you you make eye contact with him, he laughs before resuming his composure staring at the camera with an intense look "a lot of people may call him by his nick name 'duke dennis'" you use finger quotes around his name "but his legal name is actually my man. sooo"

"it is?"

"yes it is."

he sides eye you "ion-"

"NEXT! we have the crust nestor" you raise your left hand as Kai walks in rubbing his chin as if he fine or something "if you were to even question anybody who has the greatest, crispiest, goldenest crust" "i don't think that's a word" your brother leans over and whispers

"kai"

"my bad"

"as i was saying. the greatest, crispiest, goldenest crust in the world.. they would say my brother" you stretch your hands out as you describe him. kai brows furrows at his introductory "i have a name" you look over to him and there was just silence before the video was cut to the next clip

"and if you're wondering who I am, among the two negros standing next to me well, i can't believe you dont recognize me"

"your not that popular" Kai says shaking his head in denial and laying his palms flat on the table

"okay you know what, kai.. you getting on my last nerve" you turn your body around to fully face him lowering your tone as like your mother did anytime she was about to pop the shit out of him for asking to get something from the store "i'm sorry" his head hangs low and Duke turns his head to the side and brings a hand to cover his mouth, hiding his smile.

"like i let you be in my video" "i know, i know" Kai shakes his head "and you come in here disrespecting me like i won't slap the shit out of you" you make italian hands and cock your head to the side "ok sis, i'm sorry" rolling your eyes you wrap up your introduction.

"now let's get started and with this trio of perfection, how could anything go wrong?"

________

the next clips shows you slamming the bag of flour on the table in front of you as your boyfriend and brother line it up with everything else "we're going in RAW, unpro-" before you can finish your sentence Kai bursts outs laughing and Duke joins him causing you to roll your eyes.

"we're not using recipes! we're not using measuring cups! we've been doing this for hundreds of years" you side eye duke and point his way "him fasho- but uh we totally know EXACTLY, what to do with the ingredients on display on the table on th- here.. on the table.. displayed-here..." (i actually had a stroke writing this)

"it's ok, take your time baby"

"alright, whatever we're starting now. twin give us the count down" agent starts to count down from three and you immediately go for the flour "also i forgot to mention that someone-" you glare at Duke pouring at least 1 cup of flour in your bowl "forgot the buttermilk" for some reason the first thing Kai did was spray his bowl with pam which Duke notices "the fuck?" he stops pouring the sugar in his bowl to look at Kai because for some reason the next thing he decides to do is pour in the milk.

"see unlike these two idiots, i know that your supposed mix the dry ingredients first" you say glancing up at the camera "where are the spoons?" you look around the table as Kai lifts his head and winces "oh shitttttt- my bad yall"

"nigga"

"are you serious?"

you then smack your lips "fuck it" you start to mix the dry mix with your hands after doing that you grab the vegetable oil and pour just a little inside "ice spice is so fine" Kai grabs an egg cracking it inside "she wants me to be in her new music video" Duke furrows his eyebrows grabbing the oil from you "you?" you grab the carton of eggs from Kai's side of the table "yes. me nigga" kai smacks his lips as you accidentally bump into him knocking almost half his mixture out of his bowl "my bad"

"so as you can see my opponents being the dumbass they are used two eggs when your only supposed to used one" you use your white girl voice as you crack an egg into your bowl "yall this how I be in y/n pussy" you look at duke who holds up the bowl and starts to use his middle and ring finger to mix his pancake solution "boy stop lying you be like this" you lift your fingers creating a 'c' motion duke smacks his lips and stops you "girl no the fuck i don't, i be like-" before he could correct me kai yells at us with a face of disgust "OKAY we get it god damn"

_______

after playing around for a little bit time eventually runs out and the three of you attempt to create at least a few decent pancakes "we have syrup right?" Kai asks "duh why the fuck would we have pancakes and no syrup?" Duke responds to Kai. he smacks his lips and his brows come together as he starts to get irritated "bro didn't you forget the buttermilk?" "didn't u forget the spoons?" "okay but at least-"

"oh my god both of y'all shut the fuck up."

you all finish up your pancakes in separate rooms to create a little bit of suspense and to see who pancakes turned out the best and after setting the camera back up it was time to present.

"hey guys" agent waves at the camera as he fixes the flash "i'm going to be the judge of everyone waffles" you look up and fixes his statement "pancakes" "same difference"

______

"why the fuck is it hard?" agent tries to cut Kai black ass pancake with a knife but it doesn't budge "and black" Duke adds trying to get Kai eliminated but the way your twin was struggling to slice it was already enough. "you see it was a visual representation of my sister" Kai uses his arms to explain as you step forward "nigga u tryna be funny? alls i see is a black ass blob"

"it was supposed to be a monkey."

agent ends up picking up the mess with his hand, but it was so hard he couldn't even take a bite..

"alright next." he moves over next to you and removes the lid on top of your plate and he immediately begins laughing. Duke and Kai comes up to see what so funny as they soon realized what you created "i was inspired by the song peaches and eggplants featuring sexyy red and mulatto" your white girl voice comes back as you hold up the plate for the camera to see. obviously it was a peach and eggplant you even took the time to color your batter but what agent found so hilarious was the powdered sugar and whip cream spread across the peach and syrup leaking from the tip of the eggplant.

"alright, alright cmon lemme taste it" he grabs a fork and begins to slice through "hey!! i can cut through this one!" Duke laugh booms throughout the house as Kai rolls his eyes, after successfully cutting a nice piece of the peach he stuffs it into his mouth and begins chewing "mmm." you look at him with momma lips telling him he better say something good or he was gonna be fired "i mean yeah it's good. like real shit. but-" you whip your head to him seeing what else he has to say "wayyy to much whip cream, it makes the waffle extra sweet it would've been better with a drizzle of syrup" you once again correct him "pancakes" "shut up, tomato tomata"

"ok duke you ready?" "no" " to bad" he removes the lid exposing his pancake which didn't look bad at all but he forgot one thing "just normal waffles?" you scream from behind the camera "PANCAKES" "I KNOW WHAT I SAID" your boyfriend breaks up the small bickering "well shit how was i supposed to know we was making eggplants and monkeys? ain't nobody told me shit." he shrugs as agent cuts through his pancake and drowns it in syrup that spilt over on the plate before stuffing it in his mouth "mmm. it's not bad" you walk back into the camera frame wrapping your arms around Duke waist giving him a peck on the cheek which makes him grin "don't playyyy! see my baby can cook!" "but-" "damnit never mind" duke frowns as he catches an attitude and removes your arms from around him and agent continues "i don't know what the fuck u did but this is the chewiest waffle i ever tasted"

you walk over to the plate and you grab another fork to taste, cutting a small triangular piece you bite the tip off immediately realizing what twin was talking about "it's not necessarily chewy... it's like.. doughy" waving Duke over he walks up behind you wrapping one arm around your waist. lifting up the fork with leftover pancake on it you bring it to his mouth as he takes a big ass bite stuffing the rest in his mouth. Duke chews and chews soon swallowing "i don't see what yall talking 'bout that shit good" he points to his plate. Kai pops up out of nowhere with a fork squeezing inbetween you and agent trying to snag a piece he rolls his eyes and leaves back behind the camera to make sure it was still recording. "what the shit ?? this shit taste like ass" Kai immediately spits it out and Duek smacks his lips "nigga stop playing wimme that shit taste amazing!"

you move over grabbing your own plate over so the three of you can taste it. you and your brother both take a bite of the eggplant as Duke waits patiently for you to feed it to him "mmm. yeahh thats perfect. i don't even wanna taste the peach" kai shakes his head in disbelief that you actually made a decent pancake, rolling your eyes u feed duke a small piece of the eggplant, being a little nervous for his reaction "mmhm." he balls his fist bringing it to his mouth "oh yeah" he points towards your plate "that's the shit right there" you smile glad that he took a liking to your creation "thank you baby" you give him a kiss and Kai once again interrupts "ALRIGHT, my turn!"

"i'm not eating that shit."

#duke dennis is my man #duke dennis amp #duke dennis x reader #duke dennis x black reader #duke dennis x black!fem!reader #duke dennis #kai cenat #agent 00 #x reader #x black reader #guess who's back #(kinda)

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crushedsweets · 9 months

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Would you ever consider including nurse ann in more of your art/ stories? She's one of my favorite characters and I think your design for her is amazing lmao- I'd also sort of like to know what her relationship with the others would be like

yes. actually. i would love to . ok i have some vague ideas for how shed fit into the lore so thatll be under the cut !! i also start rambling about lulus lore too cuz i decided theyre friends.

ok so, again, my au is based around slenders forest being like... some sort of magnet for the paranormal. slenderman wants to keep all of these cryptids within the forest.

since its in a fictionalized forest in tuscaloosa, where marble hornets was filmed, i decided to move the abanonded hospital they visited up north of the tuscaloosa lake. she roams there.

SOOOOO nurse ann is just... a demon. slenders forest is sort of like limbo for a lot of the cryptids and kinda puts them in like.. a long daze and loops unless they're consistently leaving or being grounded by humans.

i dont EXACTLY know why/how she's in that specfic hospital, especially since i dont believe she has an official origin? maybe when the hospital shut down, she was let go and wasn't transferred to work in a new hospital, so she lost her shit and preformed some crazy rituals that ended up making her an undead nurse ? now she's forever roaming the hospital. or maybe she was killing patients when she was a human and kept doing weird demon shit with their bodies and the operator/zalgo fed off of her bad vibes. LOL IDK.

now about lulu cuz i drew her too.

i used to be sooo fond of lulu. and i originally said she was just going to be another ghost roaming the forest pointlessly, mourning everything and being incapable of interacting with humans, BUUUUUT. she is 24 and NOT A GHOST?!?!??!?! IDK WHY ALL THIS TIME I THOUGHT SHE WAS JUST A GHOST WHO AGES CUZ YK HOW CHIBIWORKS STUFF WAS BACK THEN LOL... i def am tired of little kids being tortured and all these children ghosts tho so im kinda glad to have smth new to write. anyway. so im thinking lulus just another little demon thing... i'm thinking her story goes.

she was in strict private schools all of k-12, and went to uni on her own in tuscaloosa. she wanted to branch out, have a little rebelious phase, make friends, etc. tried to join a co-ed frat. she experienced an absolutely horrific hazing when she was like 19, the frat fully believed they killed her by accident and in their panic, tried to bury her in slenders forest, and some demonic entity in the forest infected her before she was buried fully. she ends up climbing out of her shallow grave, never having died. perhaps the operator did it, perhaps zalgo like in her og lore ? PERHAPS ANN CUZ SHES A DEMON HERSELF?

anywaaayyyyy :3 l think theyd be cute friends. they just look really cute together and i could see good chemistry so i totally would love to expand on them and make them friends. maybe expand more on the type of species they are, what kind of powers they have(esp if i make ann the demon who infects lulu).

BUUUUT ALSO this made me realize i should totally look into adding zalgo to my lore. cuz it doesnt make sense for the operator to make anyone a demon, thats not really what he does.... and i dont want him to do that i just dont like the vibes. so mmm yes.

anyway in terms of relationships..

lulu and her are cool good besties beautiful they would take selfies and do tiktok dances together.

masky and hoody are incredibly indifferent to her, because they dont have to worry/visit her often. she stays in the hospital thats in the forest, and thats exactly where slenderman wants her, so theyre content. theyre kinda grateful she keeps lulu in the hospital too, cuz lulu actually freaks them out bc she'll be jumping at them and shit talking about their eyes.

tobys EXTREMELY scared of ghosts (bc of his hallucinations of his sisters ghost . . ). he eventually gets over it(kinda?) with sally, but he keeps accusing ann and lulu and the sort of being ghosts cuz they just.. kinda pop in and out. at least jack has to walk into the room to show up. so he doesnt like them

mmm jack wouldnt like her IF he knows that she kinda turned herself into a demon through like, a ritual or smth. he'd be beyond pissed to know someone CHOSE to be what he is. if he doesnt know, he doesnt care for her. he kinda jokes about 'well why dont YOU be their medic' and shes like 'dont fuckin wanna be'.

jane and liu and kate prob dont know her... kate might but wouldnt care.

jeff would prob think shes hot or some bullshit and nina would be beyond pissed. at first ninas like AHHH SHES SO COOL cuz shes a fangirl at heart, but the second she hears a single 'goddamn' from jeff shes livid.

ben prob wouldnt care much for her... hes so uninterested in demons idk why i just feel like he doesnt care.

clockwork would LOVE HER. she'd think she's so fucking cool. she'd try talking to her all the time but ann prob wouldnt be interested in clocky at all...

ofc the proxies purposefully come into contact with the paranormal the most because thats their job, so i wrote the most for them, but that doesn't mean theyre the closest or anything.

ok thank u anon you did smth to my brain that benefitted my mental health cuz i love writing this shit for the creeps thank u sm .

#asks #creeped #hcs #sweetart #creepypasta #nurse ann #lulu creepypasta #creepypasta art #creepypasta fanart #creepypasta headcanons #ticci toby #masky #tim wright #aaahhhgghg #i love doing these so much seriously #heals me #toby rogers #Lucille-Tiffany Greatfeild

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modelbus · 10 months

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Heyy! Could you do Wilbur x artist!reader dating hcs because a musician and an artist? I feel like Y/N like Wilbur makes so much art of him to the point she actually probably made one of their lovejoy posters!! And Wil would teach Y/N guitar and Y/N teach Wil how to draw and its so SDHDSGJ

I'm an artist and I think this would be cute! Hope you can answer this ask <3

- 🍄anon :D

I’m not an artist myself, but my two artist friends came in clutch here!

Pairing: Cc!Wilbur x Gn!Artist!Reader

Adored Artist

Idle drawings of Wilbur completely fill your sketchbook. Him playing guitar. Him sitting there. A specific doodle of him with a large forehead— for the joke.

The two of you tend to sit together without talking. You drawing, him creating Melodies and lyrics.

Getting showered in compliments.

He talked about decorating his guitar once, and you drew nothing but guitar designs for the next week.

His callouses and your graphite-stains are jokingly called “battle wounds” together.

When Wilbur buys you art supplies as gifts, he is painfully meticulous in making sure the supplies are good and ones you like.

Him peering over your shoulder to see what you’re working on, always delighted when it’s something related to him. Whether that be a simple guitar sketch for practice, or actually him.

And 100% yes he’d be yoinking your drawings to use for Lovejoy or merch reasons.

“Hey Love, remember that drawing you did the other night?” He asked, leaning against the couch where you’re curled up with a sketch pad. “You’re gonna have to be more specific than that, Wil.” You had laughed, finishing part of the sketch and looking up at him. He laughs too, leaning down to kiss you. “The one with the Lovejoy mascots. And our skull.” He had elaborated for you. Your eyes had lit up, flipping to the page for him. “Yes! That one. I was thinking, maybe it’d be cool to use as a design for merch?”

You couldn’t believe it, that he actually wanted to use your drawings. But, when you realized he was serious, you jumped at the chance.

(He insisted on paying you for it, too, even though you assured him you were perfectly happy giving him the designs. For two weeks you played a game where you passed the money back and forth until you gave up and just accepted it)

He doesn’t shut up about you or your talents ever. Met someone new? He’s pulling out his phone to share your art. Saw someone online talking about art? He’s tagging you to say you’re the best artist ever.

Teaching each other <333

Wilbur had made a small comment, and you jumped on it.

”I wish I could draw like that. You’re so talented, you’re incredible.” “I can teach you.” “What?”

Did not go well at all.

“Imagine that the light is here, okay? So you have to shade where shadows would be, making it darker there.” You explained patiently, gently tapping the areas you’re talking about.

“Shadows. Darker. Shading.” Wilbur repeated, looking up at you. You were leaning on him, your head on his shoulder to see his drawing. A very… admirable attempt at you.

“Go for it.” You encouraged, and he blinked.

“What?”

“…Were you listening?”

“Of course I was, love.” But the way he had leaned in to kiss you—to distract you—certainly said otherwise.

Since you “made” him draw, he convinced you to learn how to play guitar.

You protested (secretly loving the idea of learning from him) but in the end he got you to agree.

Sitting on his lap, his arms wrapped around you to help you form the chord shapes. It’s cozy, and you’re absolutely failing.

“This is a G—“ “My fingers don’t do that, Wil!”

In the end, it turns into him playing a song for you. But only after you manage to make that G chord, finger pain be damned.

He loves putting up your art on the walls. Taped.

#dsmp #mcyt #mcyt imagine #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x you #wilbur imagine #wilbur #wilbur x reader

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wavesgocrash · 8 months

Text

✩°。Slow Down The Song⋆⸜ 🎧✮

Pairing: Abby Anderson X reader

Content: friendship w Dina content <3, (I love Dina). drinking/drugs, pushy douche man, mutual pining. SMUT! : spitting, spanking, degrading/praise, pictures are taken during, handcuffs(its a belt) head R!receiving, strap on sex r!receiving. LMK if I missed anything <33

A/N : first smut writing lmk how it goes :D kisses..

⋆⭒⋆˚。⋆˚。⋆⋆⭒˚。⋆✧·ﾟ: *⋆⭒˚。⋆⋆⭒˚。⋆⭒˚。⋆⋆✧·ﾟ: *⋆⭒˚。⋆⭒˚。⋆⭒˚。⋆⋆

You always saw abby, walking to classes, on her way to practice, the gym. She was in your liberal arts class. But you never interacted. She always had her headphones in. smug unapproachable face. She had this walk, like she owned every sidewalk she walked on. You always took a second to take in her outfit, pointedly checking her out, not like she'd noticed. when she passed you could smell her expensive cologne, admire her braided hairstyles. Sometimes you smiled and she didn’t even notice, sometimes shed look at you and try to give what looked like a smile, just a polite one.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“hey chica” a familiar voice singsonged as she let herself in your dorm. you turned your head to find Dina in your door with a large backpack in hand “whatcha doin?” you eyed her suspiciously.. “my chem work..”

she trounced over to you shutting your computer quickly. “well not anymore, we’re going out!!!” she squealed excitedly spinning in a circle and dropping her bag to the ground.

You’d never exactly been a party animal, but with the stress of college it was so nice to get out and have fun.

“fineeee” you’d pretended to concede. rolling your eyes and twirling around with Dina

shed connected to your speaker, poured you both drinks and begun on your makeup.

“any luck with your crush?” she bounced her eyebrows obnoxouisly, referring to abby.

“i haven’t talked to her yet..” you confessed

“Y/N come on! its just Abby Anderson” she rolled her eyes as if abby wasn’t incredibly intimidating

“Dina she’s like six foot tall and has the RBF of a monster.” you pleaded with her

she rolled her eyes at you, finishing your lipstick. “go get dressed sugar”she smacked your ass playfully and said “els and Jesse will be here soon to pregame”

“no cat?” you asked referring to ellies girlfriend.

Dina hissed.. and squinted “ouch, broke up again?” you confirmed. This was like the third time.

Dina laughed starting on her makeup, already in her blue sparkly mini dress.

you walked into your room opening the dresser, hmm a red velvet and lace mini dress or a bedazzled low back halter top and leather skirt? “DINA?? DRESS OR SKIRT?”

“WHAT DRESS?”

“MY RED ONE”

“WHAT TOP WITH THE SKIRT?”

“MY BEDAZZLED ONE”

“OOO DISCO BALL SHIRT!!!” Dina screeched. you laughed and slid into the shirt discarding the idea of a bra, slipping your skirt on and your shoes into some short red pumps you felt perfect, and just in time. ellie called “ladies? we’re here.

“hi guys!” you ran up giving them each a quick hug

Dina said nothing, she was touching up her eyeliner.

once she was finished she ran out giving Jesse a peck and ellie a hug.

You were decently intoxicate by the time you even got to the party, Dina drank like a horse. (this is cannon)

As the party heated up and the lights somehow got dimmer the music blasting, you found yourself drunk. looking for Dina to get you another drink you ran smack into a mans back.

“oops sorry!” you slurred slightly.

he spun around, you didn’t recognize him “thats okay baby” he slurred heavily groping your hips to “stablize you”

You stumbled back and tried to walk past him, he grabbed your hips again. “dance with me bbygirl” he gave you a drunk smile

“does that line ever work?” you narrow your eyes grabbing his wrists and pushing back.

“yes” he winked

“not this time buddy” you snapped, and pushed off of him.

“god you’re a bitch” he grabbed your wrist harshly

before you could even get agressive, a large hand wrapped around your waist and a voice said in you ear “whatcha doin love?” Abby.

The man backed off chuckling, “my bad Anderson. Gotcha self a fiesty one huh?”

she pretended to chuckle. “ha yea, go find lilly i’m sure she’s missing warming your lap” and with that she yanked you away. you made sure to glare at his back on your way away.

whoever that is

suddenly you found yourself face to face with Abby Anderson. that hardend face present “you alright?” she asked her exterior melting as she leaned down to talk over the music in your ear.

“yea yea I had it handled. but thank you anyways.”

she nods looking at you, a new song plays, you love this song.

finally you found your balls. “dance with me.” you demanded more than asked.

she let her eyebrows rise, finally she said “alright”

she grabbed your hips without hesitation and your hands found her shoulders picking up to the pace of the song. As the song picked up you , let yourself daringly grind on her. her hands tightened on your hips “watch it Y/N” she rasped. Her voice sending electric down your spin and her grip lighting your skin on fire. the song crecendoded and you put your head in the crook of her neck kissing a small kiss. “what if I don’t want to?” you whispered “fuck Y/N how drunk are you?” she was still raspy her hands gripping you “drunk enough to take what i want” she hummed at your words, slotting her knee between your thighs, letting you move your hips with her body.

“can i kiss you?” you murmured. “fuck yes” she rasped out again you kissed her raggedly and she gave you the passion back, working on you. Breaking the kiss she dropped her head to your shoulder breathing you in, fighting back her needs, keeping her restraint. She thought she might ruin you right here in that fucking mini skirt.

breathe me in

breathe me out

you danced together locked in the heat of passion for what felt like five minutes but was for more then a few songs, suddenly the asshole who had his grip on you walked past winking at abby and drawing his eyes over you. She grabbed your ass possessively , causing you to jump forward, grinding your clothed cunt on her knee, letting out a moan.

“I need to get you out of here” abby hummed in your ear.

breathe me in

breathe me out

you nodded frantically ”just have to tell Dina”

She nodded and took your hand as you separated.

you found dina jessie and ellie out on the patio smoking a joint.

as if noticing your presence Dina passed it to you without looking up from her conversation. but when Jesse noticed the hickeys on your neck his brows furrowed, making the three of them looking you as you took a long drag off the joint. Passing it to ellie you started “guys i’m gonna um.. go home with someone” Dinas eyebrows shot up, ellie began taking you in, hickeys ,a hiked up skirt and a flushed face. “who?” she asked, ellie was this protective of everyone. you sidestepped to show none other then Abby fucking Anderson standing in the glass sliding door giving you guys some space to talk. “No fucking wayyyy-” Dina was cut off by ellie“is she sober, is she driving you?” ellie asked. you nodded. “okay cya.” Dina slapped your ass AGAIN as you trotted off. it was like her way of highfiving you.

The drive was mostly quiet. abby’s hand on your thigh, light music playing. The car stopped in front of her apartment building. “are you sure you’re okay with this”

“please abby.” you nodded. “if i didn’t see the way you looked at me every damn day I wouldn’t consider this. while you’re drunk.” your face flushed at her embarrassing statement.

the second you got in the door you were pushed against it locked in a heated kiss. kicking your shoes off. Abby all but dragged you to her room, unzipping your skirt “think i don’t see the way you give me fuck me eyes everyday huh? ” she growled in your ear. You whined.

“i have to hold myself back from this every fuckin’ day. lookin at me like that. like a slut who needs to be fucked” she chucked your skirt.

she ripped her own nice t shirt off showing her sports bra, then yours revealing your bare chest

“cant even wear a bra to the fuckin’ party. fuck your tits are perfect”

once soft spoken and quiet abby had flipped a switch. talking to you just the way you wanted, you’d imagined

“yours too” you slipped your hands under her sports bra and she helped you take it off, showing off her perfect tits.

she scooped you up only in your panties and brought your legs around her torso.

she attached her mouth to your perked nipple you let out a strained moan and she gripped your ass harder playing with your nipple with her tongue. switching to the other nd spending time on it. she walked over to the bed tossing you on it like you weighed nothing you gasped at the air being knocked out of your lungs, propping yourself up on your elbows. as she undid her belt setting it on the side table carefully, your eyes followed her hands and she undid her jeans sliding and kicking them off. she smiled at you, powerful body on full display abs flexing.

she lunged kissing you and kissing down your body, kissing over your clothed cunt.

“abby don’t tease. Please?”

“don’t tease? you’ve teased me for months staring at me, wearing cute little dresses, i should’ve been ripping them off of you the minute you got home. I should’ve been holding your hand to classes. ”

she began to lick your cunt through your thin satin panties as you canted your hips, whining.

finally she ripped them off. devouring you like she had been starved “abs.. making me feel so good.”

She looked up, smacking your slit and spitting on it after

you moaned out.

she sucked on your clit and entered a finger into you you moaned out your hole clenching.

“so fuckin tight. fuck.”

quickly she added another finger and you began grinding on her tounge. ‘Abs Abs im gonna!-”

“cum for me baby, cum on this face cmon. tell me who’s makin you feel this good”

her words sent you over the edge, a band in your belly snapping as you released on her face ”thats it thatta girl.” she slurped nastily on your pussy not even giving you a break.

she rose from the bed, your whining from loss of contact. ‘’i know baby” she pretended to pout, opening her drawer and pulling out a shiny box, and out of it she got a large baby pink strap on, maybe eight inches? your mouth watered at the sight of it. “bought this the day i saw you. wearin that lil top i couldn’t stand it.”

she latched it on over her boxers

‘ you whined at the tip sliding between your folds, she leaned up to you “ya alright with this love? she asked” “you nodded frantically kissing her, tasting yourself. she grabbed your face between her forefinger and thumb “open your mouth up” you did.

She was so nasty. she spit in your mouth and squeezed your cheeks to tell you not to close your mouth. she smiled at that sight. “so fuckin’ pretty.” she grabbed her polaroid off the nightstand “keep that mouth open wide baby” She snapped the picture. “oh thats going in my wallet.”

“Swallow” she commanded. and you did.

“fuck abs.. you’re perfect for me.”

“good baby” she chuckled

she used your slick to wet her cock and looked up at you, gripping your hips hard enough to leave bright brusises the next morning. slowly she slid in inch by inch, your eyes drooped as you moaned out whining at the size, all the way to the hilt. she checked on you, obviously enjoying it.

pulled out, and slammed back in. you screamed out at the feeling “A-Abby!”

“gunna fuckin’ split you in half”

relentlessly she pounded into you until she found that sweet spot that had your hips bucking. she abused it until your eyes started watering. using your hands you started to run away.

“ahh ahh ahh” she tsked.

flipping you over she grabbed the belt from her nightstand and skillfully used it to restrain your hands behind your back. your chest flush into her silk sheets.

she slammed into you at the hilt feeling your cervix. “gunna fuckin mold this pussy to my cock. you’re only gonna be mine.”

“Mhm i’m yours abs” you cried out

she went harder chasing her own orgasm as the hild of her cock bumped against her clit.

she smacked your ass causing you to jump forward and back, making her stroke that much deeper. “ass is perfect, this pussy’s fuckin’ perfect.” she growled out at you spitting down to where you connected. “abs- ABBY fuck. fuck. fuck.” you cried out

“yea baby tell the neighbors who owns you”

“Who owns this pussy?” she smacked your ass again and then she reached down messing with your clit

“ah! you abby. Abby does!”

‘m’ gonna cum abby.”

yea baby? go ahead cum for me she spat out.

she put her thumb on your asshole pressing just enough to feel how tight it was. spitting on it.

you feel your orgasm take over your body in waves, sending shock waves.

but she wasnt done

she kept going, no pace change. “m’ not fuckin’ done Y/N, gotta - fuckin’- make- you- mine-”

she slammed into you on each word making her point

you cried out, overstimulated, the orgasm you just had began to feel like a band that was going to snap again “abby pleas- is-its too much abby-”

“fuckin’ take it baby. fuckin’ take it like a good slut”

with your hands tied behind your back you had no choice to take it.

“Abs i’m gonna cum again. abs-”

“gunna fuckin’ cum too”

her strokes got sloppy, and she repeatedly smacked your ass alternating cheeks.

“Cum with me cmon fuckin’ cum with me, pretty”

“abs- ” the band snapped in your stomach, squirt covering both of your thighs.

“fuck Y/N, look so pretty doin it, fuck such a fuckin- good- girl-”

she accentuated her words with he lasts strokes her orgasm ripping out of her.. she rode it out in your whining, shiny wet cunt.

she un-lachted your arms and slid out of you.

giving you a kiss on the forehead

“did s’good for me baby, stay right here i’ll take care of you.”

she walked around the room putting the strap away you admired her strong back as she cleaned up, she took a warm wet rag to your puffy fucked out cunt cleaning you up and sliding a pair of her boxers on you, and her shirt over your head. she got dressed too and cralwed into bed with you, cuddling you into her arms.

#abby anderson x you #abby anderson x reader #abby #ellie tlou #ellie #ellie williams #abby brainrot era #abby the last of us #abby tlou

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sweatervest-obsessed · 3 months

Text

Violent Delights Have Violent Ends - Part Three

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

WC: 1.8k

TW: More rambling about art, Hospitals, poor male role models

A/n: Let's pretend like this didn't take me over a month to write. It's been a weird month for me so I really appreciate all of your patience <3 But the good news is, I've actually already starting writing Part 4...hehehe

“Hi Doctor Kolek. My name is Emily Prentiss and this is Doctor Y/n Y/l/n, we’re with the FBI and we wanted to ask you a few questions.”

The woman on the hospital bed nodded, eyes wide. There was a cloudiness to them, as if the memory loss from the past twenty-four hours was visible. “I-I told the police everything I remembered about yesterday.”

“Actually.” You spoke up, giving her a small smile. “We wanted to ask you about your courses this semester. We’re working on the recent murders here, and they all seem to be connected to famous paintings depicting Shakespearean deaths.”

Doctor Kolek gave you an incredulous look. “That’s incredibly specific.”

You heard Emily mutter a “you’re telling me” under her breath, and you tried to minimize the smile on your face.

“We know. I don’t actually work for the FBI, I’m consulting on this case. It’s not exactly what I thought I'd be doing with my degrees but…you never know.”

Spencer was standing outside of the room, trying to remain inconspicuous as he and Derek guarded the room.

“So Lover Boy, have you confessed to her yet?”

Spencer scoffed, repeatedly, trying to seem as if the idea was incredulous—as if he wasn’t picturing every outcome of asking you out.

“Yeah okay Reid. Don’t try to pretend like you haven’t been crushin on her since she walked into Hotch’s office four days ago.”

“I don’t like–”

“What don’t you like?” Prentiss walked out of the room, eyebrows raised, a small smirk on her lips as she looked at Derek. You followed her out, looking inquisitively at the pair in the hallway.

“Cats.” Spencer mumbled. “I don’t like cats.”

You hummed in agreement.

Prentiss let out a pretty dramatic gasp.

“Okay Well.” You quickly started to defend yourself. “I’m allergic and it’s easier to pretend that I hate what I can’t have.”

“That better be true Y/l/n. I was just starting to like you too…”

You rolled your eyes and smiled at her. “Please. Says the woman who admitted to me about her weekends in—”

“Hey! I told you that in confidence.” Emily cut you off, pointing her notebook at you.

“Weekends in what Y/n. Finish the sentence for those of us out of the know here.” Derek chimed in, very curious to know more about Emily Prentiss.

You surrendered your hands in the air, mimicking zipping your lips shut. “Sorry Morgan, sworn to secrecy.”

“Emily, come on. You know the girl for four days and she already knows more about you then, like, all of the team.”

Prentiss and you shared a knowing smile and the both of you burst out into small fits of laughter.

“Ha ha very funny. Do you believe this?”

Spencer wasn't paying attention to Derek since the sound of your laughter actually made him turn to stone. He was frozen to the core because he had a realization. Spencer Reid wanted to hear that sound for the rest of his life. Considering how his parent’s marriage went, how Hotch’s marriage went, how Gideon’s life went, how Rossi’s marriages went, he didn’t exactly have a good track record in his history or in his mentor figures. The thought of you having to deal with him every single day made him want to crawl out of his skin. He couldn’t force someone to listen to him blabber on, and he certainly wasn’t about to make someone as wonderful as you do it.

“Hey Spencer, you alright?” Prentiss’ hand on his shoulder brought him out of his head, and he started to shake his head but quickly nodded. “Ye-Yeah uh. Just..” He thought back to his thinking when something quickly came back to the forefront of his mind. “This is probably a, uh, ‘woman scorned’. She probably was cheated on or…” He managed out.

“That would line up with the revenge against the men, especially since her end game….”

Spencer nodded at you, while Prentiss and Derek gave each other a look.

“What did Kolek say about the courses?” Derek interrupted.

“She’s teaching three this semester. Spanish Art, which hasn’t really applied to us, Women in Art History, which has, and then, honestly it’s too good to be true Derek…” You bit your lip and looked at Emily, obviously troubled.

“The third course is a combination lecture between the English department and the art history department as a way to knock out two gen eds in one—it’s literally a course about literature in Art.” You sighed.

“You’re joking with me.”

You shook your head. “Derek you have no idea how badly I wish this to be fucking fake since it’s a lecture seminar—there’s like fifty kids in that course a semester, minimum.”

“Jesus Christ…”

_______________________________________________________________________

You, Derek, Emily, and Spencer spent the next three hours going through all of the kids in the course–learning the names, hometowns, languages spoken, grad years: everything about them.

It was a dreadful process that caused all of you to almost lose your minds on several occasions. It didn’t help that the only thing you could really do was scan course loads of students that the three agents picked out to see if there could be some courses that aligned perfectly to fit the profile, but it was not helpful because all of these kids took almost the exact same courses.

“I can’t fucking sit in these chairs anymore. I’m losing my mind.” You stood up and stretched your back a bit. “I’m going back to the hotel, and I highly advise that all of you should too. Especially since it’s now ten pm, and all of us being miserable tomorrow morning would be extremely counterproductive.”

Spencer sighed and nodded. “I’ll walk back with you?”

You smiled and nodded at him, grabbing your coat off of the back of your chair. “Derek? Emily?”

“We’re going to finish up, but we’ll be in bed before the sun rises.” Derek mock saluted you and you nodded.

The two of you left the two of them, starting to head in the direction of the hotel the FBI had set you up at. Well, really it was almost an Airbnb type of place. They had managed to get an entire house set up for the team since there were no actual hotels around. You and Spencer had landed with the rooms up on the third floor, while everyone else was on the second floor. This was nice considering it meant no one was waking you up when you managed to sleep in for an extra half an hour, nor were they in your business about your crush on Spencer, and maybe you didn’t have to sneak back into your room when the two of you would finish your late-night conversations.

You had never met anyone like Spencer Reid. His intelligence was unmatched, and so was his want to learn. Tonight was all about teaching him the feelings of art. This was a big one considering that was something that traditionally steered Spencer away from art. Not because he couldn’t feel things, but because the expectation of emotions was a bit much.

“I think a good one to start with is Turner’s Odysseus Deriding Polyphemus. It’s one of my favorites because Turner hid creatures within the nature of the scene; Hippokampos and Dryaids in the waves. Polyphemus in the mountains.” You handed him your phone, the piece of art on your screen. “When you first look at the image, you just see Odysseus and his men sailing away. But the longer you stare at the image,, more reveals itself to you.”

Spencer nodded. “Rigth. So I get that part, but why. The optical illusions within the paint make it impressive artistry, but Holbein’s Ambassadors does the same thing, only with a weird skull optical illusion. What is the difference?”

You smiled. “While I’ve had the privilege of seeing both paintings in person at the National Gallery in London, and while seeing both in person is extremely cool, Holbein was just showing off. He wanted to showcase his extreme talent and boast. Whereas Turner is hiding the story within the painting. He is asking the viewers to not only know what they are looking for but challenging them to find it. The victory of Odysseus suddenly seems more magical because Turner is capturing the isolation of the giant through the isolation of the mountains, making him seem small before you really consider the proportions of the paintings.”

Spencer was just smiling at you, completely enamored by your passion for this topic. You looked over at him and blushed slightly. “Sorry, I just get really into these things and then I start to ramble and–”

“No! No. Seriously. I don’t mind it, at all. I really like it when you…ramble.”

You bit your lip and nodded, ready to continue with your tirade.

But Spencer’s smile quickly turned into a frown, and it was the last thing you saw as your vision went black. And the last thing you heard was Spencer yell out before the world went silent.

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allfearstofallto · 3 months

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I hear your pleas for ideas loud and clear so I raise you yandere Kaeya gaslighting tf out of you. So talented you are, but you always fumble when it comes to presenting your skills to the world. Oh so many wonderful ideas in that mind of yours - too bad they die on your lips.

And that's why you need him. To save you from embarrassing yourself as you clutch your latest creation that would undoubtedly revolutionize some industry against your chest as your eyes burn with unshed tears. It always baffled him that you thought that you were worthy of that honor. I mean, you can't even order a meal without shaking like a leaf.

You aren't built for this lifestyle, now are you? Geniuses could easily bounce back from failure, yet here you are, soaking his shirt with your never-ending tears. Were you ever a genius?

(basically Kaeya gaslight gatekeep girlbossing talented inventor darling into oblivion bc I just know this man would be jealous if you were famous. I'm so sorry for writing so much but this idea has been eating me up inside so now I send it to you. May I be 🐇 Anon?)

🐇 anon, first of all, it is a pleasure to meet you! Secondly, my dear bun, you've saved my ass!! This was such a good prompt and it felt incredible to write!

Maybe I'm just in the mood to write gaslighting bitches cause this felt natural!!

Voiceless

Yandere! Kaeya x reader

TW: gaslight, and quite harsh words, but Kaeya is saying them so it's kinda sexy

If people could see what was going on inside your head, they'd think you were a genius. And you are, or at least, you believe that you are. But all those faces, all those eyes on you, those people looking at you makes your body go stiff and your words lodge in your throat. And in the end, you look like a bumbling idiot.

But you were his bumbling idiot. That's what he'd tell you at least. Hurtful words yes, but he meant them in an endearing way. His phrases were sweet and loving, even if to the average person they sounded a bit harsh. You explained to people that he didn't truly mean it that way, he was just trying to make you feel better.

“And how was it today?” He’d asked you. He always looked like a work of art when he came home from his long shifts. Every strap and piece of clothing would be pulled from his body as he spoke, he was so careless about showing himself off in front of you, but you were still flustered and shy around him.

With a sheepish smile, you held up the mora that he'd given you to use for a drink, completely untouched. You couldn't even bring yourself to leave the house. A dramatic sigh fell from his lips, but he still kneeled on the couch and wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

“Oh, you sweet, poor thing,” he whispered in your ear. He took your cheeks into his hands and squeezed them lightly, like he was coddling a child, “Still so shy aren't you? It's okay, I speak for you.”

It's like you breathed a sigh of relief when he spoke. All the weight of the world was lifted off your shoulder. You were a genius, yes, but you were a genius who could barely speak a full sentence to anyone. Except for Kaeya.

His charming smile and flashy personality made you weary at first. Why would someone like him be interested in something so quiet and timid? You felt like a coal in comparison to his flashy, diamond-like nature. Your mind was like a maze, endless corners and rooms filled with ideas, but you got lost in them as well, and just ended up choking on your own words.

Kaeya released you from his warm embrace and sat down next to you. He looked at the coffee table in front of you, covered in ideas and doodles that you'd have for your latest inventions. Your mouth never moved, but your brain was a constant machine, most days you couldn't get it to shut up. It all had to be let out, in notes or drawings.

He picked up one of the random pages, an idea for a water filter, and a chuckle fell from his lips, “And how would you pitch this one?” He asked. The way those words fell from his lips felt condescending, he already knew that you couldn't do it, but you knew better than to think that. It was just his love, it was how he showed it, he wanted you to succeed.

You felt yourself flush even thinking about it, but you still stood with the paper in your hands. Walking to the other side of the coffee table, you looked down at the notes you'd written. It was all there. Everything about your idea was right there, everything you needed to say was right in front of you. But when you looked up from the page, you felt dizzy, the letters on the paper began to merge and swirl together.

It was like your world had tilted on its axis and suddenly everything was lopsided. You felt yourself spinning, but you knew you were standing perfectly still. The only person looking at you was Kaeya. His beautiful self, like a statue crafted by the gods, was sitting there, focused on you.

An average person would love and adore the amount of attention someone like Kaeya gave. A smolder on his lips and all a sparkle in his eye. But you weren't the average person and you already felt as if you were sinking into yourself, like the world was about to swallow you whole, and before you knew it, tears had started to fall from your eyes.

“Can't even talk in front of me anymore, can you?” He asked and you gave him a slow, solemn nod. You tried to hold back sobs as you realized how truly useless you were. Unable to speak in front of even your own boyfriend, a true genius would never suffer from this.

“I'm- I'm sorry,” you'd somehow managed to stutter through your apology, but that much was to be expected of you. Tears fell onto the page and smeared the ink of your notes, but it didn't matter, it's not like you were going to read it anyways.

“That's the problem, my love,” he cooed to you in his usual tone, he stood from the couch and began scooping up all the pages that lay on the coffee table. All your ideas, all your work was crumbled up into a ball. It stung a bit, seeing everything you had worked so hard to make be treated like trash and thrown away, but nothing hurt more than your failures, “You're not built for this kind of thing. You know that, right?” He spoke close to your face, your lips brushing against your, soft like flower petals on your skin.

“I know,”

“But that's okay. Do you know why?” He asked, placing a gentle hand on your face and squeezing the fat of your cheeks.

“Because I'm yours. And I don't need to be smart to be yours,”

He held you close to his chest, peppering your forehead with kisses. All your work was thrown in the trash. “It's only making you unhappy,” he said. And he was right. You weren't ready for this. This type of thing wasn't for you. You only needed him.

So you lay in his arms and tried to stop the sniffling. He was the only person you'd need to talk to, he'd be your voice if needed be. You were only hurting yourself trying to do these things that you weren't made for.

#genshin #genshin x reader #yandere genshin #mai<3 answers #yandere genshin x reader #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere x you #yandere kaeya #yandere kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich #kaeya x reader #🐇 anon

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stabbyfoxandrew · 6 months

Note

happy wednesday! you showing up on my dash is a blessing every time I am kissing you on the mouth you incredibly talented person... with that off my chest

arson 🥺👉👈

WIP Wednesday (12/13) | Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew AU (Part 74)

Andrew yawns again and considers getting up to go to bed. But he’s comfortable where he is. And warm. And cozy. He decides to stay put. After a couple minutes of waiting, Andrew’s eyes fall shut and his breathing starts to slow. Then his phone vibrates where it’s lying on his chest and he jolts awake. Fuck.

10 I don’t know. I was just curious. What are you doing? Andrew Currently? Falling asleep. 10 Am I that boring? Andrew Yes. But also, I’m fucking exhausted. Perhaps you should set fires earlier in the day, so I don’t have to miss sleep. 10 You want me to set fires in broad daylight? Andrew It would be a nice change of pace. 10 No, it’s easier to fade into the background at night. Besides, the fire is prettier when it’s dark.

Andrew supposes he’s got a point. For a lunatic, anyhow.

After calling the arsonist an idiot and getting another sad face emoji in response, the two talk until Andrew's eyes refuse to stay open. That’s when he drifts off and dreams of a fire at the beach. It’s huge and 10 is there, of course. And he’s got that sad look on his face again. Andrew subtlety waves and when he blinks, 10 is gone.

Just like the real thing.

<- previous | first | next-> ps: check the reblogs for art by @tisaqslur! <3

#andreil #aftg #WIP Wednesday #Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew #🕊️#answered #tisaqslur #me talented? have you seen your art? also #hi darling MUAH btw we're married now okay? <3333 #hehe i think i've got a couple tumblr spouses now..#love u guys!! <333

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shveris · 12 days

Text

satosugu, crack oneshot, based on this official art (their asses are not working)

satorou really, really, hates his job. absolutely hates it.

but for all the wrong reasons.

warnings: drinking, cigarettes, satosugu’s frontal lobe is on vacation

“how can someone be so dense?!” the brunette clickes her tongue softly before chugging down the rest of her beer. everything about this is horribly entertaining but also incredibly frustrating.

“you know, satorou, you could just tell him you have the fattest crush of mankind on him”, she suggests (for the nth time) and the man next to her continues whining into the counter his head is currently resting on.

“bitch i did! like, three fucking times already! he always responds with ‘and i will crush your head if you don’t bla bla bla’”, he complains, waving his right hand around in the air to make his point.

shoko did not sign up for this.

“you think an intervention would help?”, she ponders, half serious, half joking, and it has her friend snort loudly. he turns his head to look at her, brows raised: “intervention for what exactly, to drop his obliviousness? he was born with that i fear, good luck.”

“nah, he needs to stop being in denial”, shoko rolls her eyes and immediately regrets it as she feels the 6 pints of beer kicking in (finally), “he looks at you as if you were the world, man, sickening to watch.” satorou giggles like a middle schooler.

“either way, you better hurry the fuck up with this, i don’t wanna be losing my money because you two morons can’t get your shit together.” shoko presses her lips to a thin line, thinking about the fifty bucks she had bid on her two friends, and hakari’s shit eating grin.

“i still can’t believe everyone of y’all made a fucking bet out of us, such bad friends and coworkers, i’ll complain to HR tomorrow!” the brunette can only snort and fishes for the pack of malboro in her pocket.

“complain about what?” satorou falls off his chair — and gets caught because of fucking course he gets caught, man’s a damn princess, shoko thinks — upon hearing the voice behind him. ocean eyes wide in shock when he whips his head around: “suguru! don’t sneak up on us like that!” he lets himself get manhandled back onto the barstool.

“and your balance sucks.” the raven keeps one of his arms wrapped around satorou and holds his free hand out to their girl bestie, asking for a cigarette. she stares both of them up and down, eyes lingering on suguru gripping satorou’s waist, and shoves a cigarette into his hands, muttering a curse.

“nah, nah, my balance’s perfectly fine”, the white haired claims, pressing himself closer to suguru’s chest, “i could show you!” the ravenette looks at him with amusement written all over his face: “and how exactly do you plan to ‘show me’?”

“well, for starters, i’m great at walking perfectly straight on the stones of a sidewalk! not that i’m straight but you get the point. and then, also, i think i could keep my balance very well after bouncing on your dick for hours!”

shoko wants to go home. she can feel the lesbian inside her leave. she should start being homophobic or something. change of careers.

“you don’t have the stamina to bounce on my dick for hours, ‘toru”, suguru rolls his eyes, takes a hit from his cigarette, as if he’s talking about the damn weather. shoko meets satorou’s eyes and she can see a vein pop on his forehead: “you see this shit, shoko?!”

“dear lord, yes i do, and i wish i weren’t”, she mumbles. the bet has been going for over a month already, she really didn’t think it’s this bad. maybe she should do something? but, nah, that’d be against the rules of the bet, she’s pretty sure sukuna would beat her up for cheating.

“so, back to that ‘reporting things to HR’ stuff, what was that about?”, suguru asks and the brunette is very tempted to spill the beans — but, again, that’d be against those goofy rules so she keeps her mouth shut, looking at satorou because that man is a born actor.

“eh, someone took a shit in the employees restroom today and didn’t flush”, satorou waves his hand up and down, again, and shoko will always be impressed by how good of a liar he is.

“sounds like toji”, suguru thinks, “that man has issues, dude, how he hasn’t been charged for assault yet is one of the seven world wonders.” satorou only nods in agreement and shoko orders another beer.

“not sure how you made a correlation between ‘not flushing the toilet’ and ‘felony’ but okay.” satorou barks with a singular ‘hah!’ and shuts up when suguru pinches his waist.

“no, you know what, actually- this makes a lot of sense-“, shoko has her eyes on the raven again, “something’s wrong in your frontal lobe, logical thinking seems to not be working for you properly.” suguru only feels half insulted because he has no idea what a frontal lobe is but he does get the implication of shoko telling him he’s stupid.

“fuck’s that supposed to mean”, he still asks, with playful anger lacing his words. there is a tinge of curiosity nagging his mind, whispering to him that he missed out on something. shoko is definitely hinting towards some underlying issues there.

“eh, figure it out for yourselves”, she dismisses his question and takes a sip of her beer, the bitterness of it tasting sweet in contrast to the cigarettes she’s been inhaling. suguru has his eyes averted and hums a “uh-huh” with his lips around the filter before he shifts his attention to the white-haired once again.

“suguru, can we go to this new pastry shop after our shift? they have new items on their menu!” the raven smiles fondly upon seeing the excitement in satorou’s whole body language and he finds himself agreeing — not that he is ever able to say “no” to him anyway.

“we could also pick out some flowers, i have a picknick planned for us on thursday night”, suguru puffs out the cigarette smoke and undoes the buttons of his uniform coat to get some air. he misses the confused looks the other two are giving him and tries not to cry when the smoke catches in his eyes. why does it always have to sting this bad?

“picknick? how come?”, satorou eventually asks, curiosity and suspicion walking hand in hand inside his mind. he watches as the ravenette lifts his head and takes the half-finished cancer stick between his index and middle finger: “for our anniversary? who’s head are you in right now, satorou.”

gojo satorou’s soul left his body.

his chin is on the floor — never mind that, he is floored. absolutely floored.

shoko almost chokes on the mouthful of alcohol and is convinced she just imagined hearing that, telling herself she is just drunk and wants to be out of her misery (she wants her money). but then she takes another look at suguru and is sure this is, as a matter of fact, reality and very much the present. she tries to close her mouth but it’s not working in her favour: “what. the fuck.”

suguru looks at them as if they’d just insulted his whole bloodline, mild irritation and annoyance making the crease between his eyebrows deep like canyons.

“what do you mean ‘what the fuck’?”, he asks and satorou doesn’t even hear him because he’s more than chin-deep inside his own brain, too fuzzy and it feels like his body is vibrating — he doesn’t know his mouth is still very much wide open and suguru wants nothing more than to shove his dick inside.

since shoko is generally faster in gathering herself so she quickly tries to make sense of the raven’s words: “what do you mean ‘what do you mean’?”

truly the conversation of geniuses.

shoko is pretty sure satorou short-circuited, the man having his chin so deep down in hell as if he is trying to catch flies with his mouth, and suguru has never looked more confused. if her fifty bucks weren’t involved, shoko would’ve taken a picture and made it her new home screen background.

she absentmindedly lights another cigarette and pinches the bridge of her nose. if this really is what she is thinking — nothing in the world could’ve prepared her for this. how does a man like suguru even live. never mind that, how does a man like satorou made it this far in life?

“let’s take a few steps back”, she finally says and nudges the side of satorou’s chin with her free hand (he slowly picks it up from the floor), “you said anniversary. what anniversary?” suguru looks at her as if she just grew a second head: “‘toru’s and my anniversary? we’ve been dating for a year now, hello?”

shoko hates how right she was with her suspicions but she’s also very, very, happy about getting money.

“we’ve been dating?! for a year?!”

ah. satorou.exe restarted successfully.

“what the fuck’s that supposed to mean?!”

shoko notes how invested the bartender seems to be in the situation and she can’t blame them.

“wha- when? how even- you never-“, satorou’s thoughts are running a whole marathon with blindfolds, bumping into each other and anything, tangling themselves together like strings. the word vomit coming out of his mouth makes shoko take another sip of her beer and she hopes that’ll make him even more funnier.

“satorou, we sleep in the same fucking bed, you kiss my cheeks regularly, we go on dates every other day, we literally have pet names for each other.”

shoko decides she’s homophobic now.

chapter 261 destroyed my mental so i’m uploading this to hopefully make some of us less depressed. personally, i’m more depressed now because of what we could’ve had

i might write a part 2 to this someday, idk, i rlly like this au but i’m also on the verge of chewing off my lips and i need a break from life

#shveris’ blue spring #gojo satoru #geto suguru #satosugu #shoko ieiri

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piosplayhouse · 1 year

Text

Horse Isle 3: The Yandere Sim of Horse Games

(or, an extended study in how to hate your own playerbase as much as humanly possible)

(or, or, tldr there's pretty much no updated information on just how ridiculously bad this game is so here's a writeup on how I got banned and all the subsequent information I found during my time playing for documentation's sake)

Part I. The Backstory

My beloved followers will know that a few months ago I began playing Horse Isle 3, a horse-raising MMO surprisingly released in the year of our horse 2019 despite its 1997-era website and Runescape-esque graphics. Some of my play through (mostly just horse pictures) is chronicled in my tag #homophobic scum horse chronicles ¹ if you want to see how drippy my horses were before they killed me.

Now, don't get me wrong. I have endless respect for small teams of game devs that manage to create insanely impressive products-- which HI3's elaborate real-genetics breeding system, its main draw, certainly is. Coding is hard, modeling is hard, moderation is hard. Tip a coin to your local small indie teams that work hard to make incredible art.

However, HI3 is far from an admirable success story about a small dev team that triumphed over its obstacles.

The game is known for a variety of things, chief among them being the staff's rampant homophobia (which has earned it the moniker "the homophobic horse game"), hilariously uncharismatic mods (to the point where one of the main moderators, Connie, is mentioned by NAME in the majority of poor reviews of the game), the dev team's unrepentant rejection of criticism, and racism with a side of downplaying war crimes.

(Screenshots taken from Sitejabber, here)

Now, it's marketed as a game for ages 8+, which, as I've briefly talked about before, is unfortunately a rarity in today's hostile internet climate. I grew up on a variety of typical child friendly MMOs like ye olde Pixie Hollow and PetPet Park, and truly lament that so many of these have been shut down over the years. As such, I have no issue with strict rules or word filters in games, with the caveat that they are effective and genuinely intended to keep people safe. Kids are naive, and can and will say things that they shouldn't (I, for example, got kicked from a Minecraft server when I was 8 because I posted in chat that my mom told me sex wasn't a bad word. things happen). Filters are a very appropriate tool to aid manual moderation of chat features, especially in an environment where mistakes will be made.

However, HI3's, as shown below (words that are forbidden from chat are marked in red), are... questionably selective.

(Screenshot taken by Alice Ruppert, from here)

This appears to be attributed to the fact that along with having horrible moderators, HI3 also seems to have a remarkably horrible developer backend, which is a trend that you'll see pop up quite a lot in this post. Taken straight from the horse's (haha) mouth, the lead developer is the only person who seems to be able or willing to add to the filter list, and for whatever reason only wants to block the "most common inappropriate words"- because saying transgender is more of an issue than nazi and gulag I guess.

(Screenshot taken from Top R.'s Sitejabber review, here)

¹ I'm not sure how far this will reach out of my audience, and since people have already assumed weird stuff about me I thought I should probably clarify-- I'm not calling the game "homophobic scum" ghghg, my play through was focused on making horse versions of characters from a novel called "scum villain", so I took the scum and added horse (I actually have another tag for a different horse breeding game called "scum horse chronicles" so I needed to distinguish them easily but am not very good at tagging). That's it.

Part II. The Game

The game itself is, putting it simply, a mess at best and openly hostile towards newcomers at worst. The game's UI is comparable to your average petsite with 20 thousand things to click on but if you tried to navigate that while also watching the Pilgrim's Progress movie by Scott Cawthorn on 90% of your screen. This is a very good overview of what your experience first logging in will be like, with the added caveat that talking in global chat costs in game currency and that the game doesn't tell you this at ALL until you try to type in chat, and that depending when you log on it's entirely possible that you'll spawn into a completely dead town miles away from anyone who can help you, wilderness survivor-style.

To make things more complicated, information about the game is split between the game itself and the laughably horrible website/forums. Spectacularly enough, the forums, which provide vital game information and rule elaborations, cannot be searched in any way (not via Google or any hard-baked search bar) and are regularly purged by admins to erase evidence of scandals and poor moderation complaints.

Now, something you will find to be generally people's biggest issue with HI3 is their strict no "date-speak" rule, which sounds ok on paper but is worded *just* vaguely enough to give the moderators full jurisdiction over whether or not they think you're breaking the rules. Selective moderation is a major theme in the HI3 chronicle, but it is perhaps most documented with regards to this rule, because what the hell does "boyfriend/girlfriend talk" even mean?? Outside of vagueness, this rule has also been scrutinized extensively by others due to the fact that a pair of previous moderators were openly married with the igns "FrogLips" and "MrsFrogLips". I don't personally think this is super condemning, since kids usually address adults by Mr/Ms etc whether or not they know they're in a relationship, but regardless it's clear that the complete lack of elaboration on what this rule means can be easily manipulated to lodge any number of complaints against people.

(Screenshot from the Horse Isle website rules page, here)

What I will say, however, is that this rule would probably hold more water if the game wasn't literally about breeding horses.

You can pimp out your horses, you can pay others to breed your mares, you can put any number of special (real life currency-bought) amulets on your horses to make them more fertile/have twins/give birth faster. I paid $1000 to castrate Jiang Cheng. The word "stud" (which btw, is another word for a black butch lesbian) is used constantly. Perhaps most shockingly, horse inbreeding is very common and accepted among the community, to the point that it is explicitly mentioned and EXPLAINED in the game guide; the only penalization for it is that your incest product foal will have a lower intelligence stat. Call me old-fashioned, but I feel as though implementing and acknowledging that horses can breed with their own relatives is hmm perhaps more harmful than another player saying the word gay, but what do I know.

(Screenshot from the Horse Isle website game guide page, here (only accessible with an account))

Well, you might ask, after you breed and sell a horse, is there any way to put a brand on it so you know it's from your ranch? That's where the "prefix" system comes in. Prefixes are bolded titles that appear in front of a horses name in lists and in the overworld, and are described in the official game guide as follows:

(Screenshot from the same Horse Isle website game guide page as linked previously)

I think you can toggle them off if you don't want to see them, though I could be wrong. They're basically just 1-5 letter titles you can put on your own horses (nobody else's, importantly). There's no way to search prefixes, and you won't see them in game unless either a horse with a prefix is listed in auctions or you actually encounter someone in-game and see their horse.

In fact, I would learn later that not even the moderators monitor the prefixes, and apparently have no way to mass-delete them. At all.

(Image taken from an anonymous friend)

Now, it's not unusual that a game as complicated as HI3 would inevitably have a pretty taxing server-side code. Millions of multifaceted assets and features is really nothing to scoff at. However, the notion that your lead developer has to perform a manual search in the game's code to delete the equivalent of a stamp from every instance individually is hilarious. I'm not going to pretend to be a game developer, but there HAS to be a better way of coding a feature that intakes user-generated content that should probably be monitored regularly than that, right? Or, at least, there should be a robust filter system that could prevent any issues from occurring before they would need to be fixed so tediously. You might think.

On December 29th, 2022, I discovered how to register a prefix. It's very common to headcanon the characters I was naming my horses after as transgender, and I thought it would be cute to attach "TRANS" to my horses as a nod to this. However, a filter blocked the word. I was disappointed, but not surprised², and then tried to think of another word that was under 5 letters. To my complete and gay surprise, "GAY" was not filtered out, and henceforth, this worked as my prefix.

As you can see on the popup here, there are scant guidelines for what the requirements for a prefix should be. And, in this moment of apparently utter foolishness, I was under the impression that since "GAY" was NOT filtered out despite there clearly being a filter on this function, it was ok to register. Possibly it's not filtered because it's a synonym for "happy", I thought, which is also cute because I do like when horses are happy. Perhaps the staff had learned from their past criticism and had loosened the restrictions slightly because they felt restructuring was appropriate now that gay marriage is legal in the US, I imagined.

(My original post)³

What I could not imagine, however, was that the only reason the word wasn't filtered out, despite being possibly the most common sexuality-related word, was just because the lead dev couldn't be assed to add it to the filter list. And that apparently I was supposed to know this because it would lead to a permanent ban on my second offense with no warning.

² Hence typing "eat shit lol". Admittedly childish of me, but I didn't put a lot of thought into the post because it was just part of a casual silly live blog I was doing to blow off steam. The "if I get banned" tag surprisingly was not referencing "GAY", as I genuinely thought I was in the clear for that for reasons stated above, but because I tried to register "TRANS" and then posted about it online. You don't have to believe me, but I feel the need to defend myself since some people have wildly extrapolated that my actions were malicious instead of just a split second decision I made because I was bored one morning.

³ Despite the pop-up box saying that prefixes cannot be removed, they actually can at any time, given only that the person that owns the prefix unregisters the horse from it. The unregistering mechanic is for whatever reason not told to the player upon registering the prefix, but is mentioned in the official game guide linked above.

Part III. The Ban, The Report

I will preface this section by saying that I played the game normally. I do like being outrageous sometimes for my followers' entertainment, but I really don't like dragging random people into my antics if they aren't interested. Because of this, I really didn't interact with other players unless we were mutuals on some other platform. I rarely used the chat feature except to participate in server-wide events that required team participation, and I typically just explored on my own for fun. In general I think I was a pretty ok player, objectively, which lines up with my user trust score.

You see, the way moderators of HI3 allegedly keep track of rule breaking is through a "user trust score" with points added if you use features in the game, help people, etc, and points deducted if you violate rules. Anecdotally I've heard that around the -10 total points mark is when moderators put you on a sort of list to be monitored for suspension or punishment, which is pretty reasonable.

By the time I was banned, I had a score of +31. The -10 offset was a part of this debacle. The only thing I had ever done in the game which warranted any kind of violation was, as you will soon see, literally just naming about 30 of my own horses "GAY", a sin egregious enough to apparently offset about 200 hours worth of playtime with no issues.

Because of this, I was a little bit confused on multiple levels. For one, I had never even seen a moderator in game, nor been informed of discipline at any time before. On top of that, their permanent ban notification is extremely strange and vague. The text pop up when you try to log in just reads "Account currently banned -1 minutes ().", which is probably just copied straight from the server-side code for things and just wasn't translated into user-side comprehensibility. You'll also notice there is a "()" section in the notification, which I would assume is where they put the reason for bans, except for the fact that mine was completely blank.

The website which allegedly would hold more info just repeated a near identical code: "BANNED! -1min. Reason:".

So, with nothing else to go off of, I messaged support on the jankiest help center submissions I've ever seen on a website with this:

"Insisting" and "total disregard" are very strong words to use for a situation in which I just typed a word into a textbox because the game let me, I'd think, which is why I tried to reason with her. The prefixes mentioned in my message are well-known amongst the userbase and are much older and wider-spread than mine, so I would think that there would be at least some sort of precedent for this. The "geldings and yearlings" reasoning was mostly a joke, but also intended to express that the nature of an acronym (as the majority of prefixes seemed to be) is that it can be interpreted in many ways. Intent was thrown around a lot when I was discussing the issues of prefixes with other users, and it seemed to have been used to excuse previous behavior in situations where mods liked the users in question better.

I also cannot emphasize enough how much they did not warn me about my prefix being removed. When I logged in and saw my horses' names did not include it, I was suspicious that the moderators removed it just because of the history of their behavior. However, I had no hard evidence because they did not inform me at ALL. Not through in-game mail systems, not through server messages, not through the website. Complete radio silence except for the addition of an unexplained "-10" to my user score. I did complain to some people that I thought it was removed, but a combination of things suggested that it wasn't a huge deal, so I mostly let it lie. For one, I had over 100 hours of playtime and was mildly worried that one of my chat messages had been flagged without my knowledge. For another, my profile text had also mysteriously disappeared, probably because of a glitch, so who knows what could happen in this game. Lastly, I went to the prefix registry again just to check and hilariously enough, they didn't actually block "GAY" from the database. Yeah, they apparently individually deleted it from all of my horses, but couldn't be assed to add such an "inappropriate" word to their filter system.

So I just registered it again and publicly told people that I would do it again if the mods didn't actually tell me to stop. I didn't really care about the prefix because to me, the feature was purely cosmetic. All I wanted was transparency from the staff.

Well, anyway, I assume Connie couldn't think of a comeback, so she just closed my report. I was annoyed because quite literally none of my questions were answered and she didn't even refer to anything in specifics. It would take less than 1 second to type the number of the rule I violated, but I guess that was too much work for her.

I tried to give them as many outs as possible to just apologize about poor communication, but they didn't even take the bare minimum. I would also like to mention that this support ticket process is the ONLY way to directly communicate with any staff. There's no ability to upload files or images on this system, and no email listed that you could contact. So essentially, there's no way to give actual evidence for anything you say even if you want to.

Kat, who is known as the slightly-more-reasonable-but-still-pretty-bad mod then picked up the case. Her response actually provided specific information, which made it leagues above Connie's, but still included some very strange elements for sure.

The notion that this game is intended for a worldwide audience is especially funny to me because you would really think if they cared about other countries they wouldn't violate their own rule one by using a slur for Europe's largest ethnic minority, but ok. It's a weird hill to die on considering how USA-dominated the staff's opinions towards rules are (Connie justifies the usage of a slur for Rromani people based off the opinion of a single roommate she had who reclaimed it, Joe defends a store in-game being called "The Gulag" because Americans don't think gulags are that bad (discussed and cited in the conclusions section)). But then again, picking and choosing what parts of other countries' customs you want to respect is very American, which is why I think they should add an extra star rating for its patrioticness on the website.

As I mentioned before, the prefixes I included in my response are definitely older and more commonly-used than mine, so I'm not sure how they wouldn't have seen them before. This comment also ties back to the suggestion that the moderators have very little control or insight over a distinct feature of their game, which is not a great thing to admit so casually.

Kat has a strange habit of immediately contradicting herself in the same paragraph, as can be seen here. "The glitches never happen and bugs were quickly fixed, but games still have bugs". "People that break the rules usually write in to ask what was wrong, but most people usually never ask". At this point I think we can confidently say that they don't even make an attempt to proofread any of their responses, to be honest.

Her 7th paragraph has one of my favorite lines in this exchange. "If we had to notify players every time we made moderator changes to their account we would spend 24 hours a day" is giving huge Yandere Dev "stop emailing me because I have to spend 24 hours a day reading all my emails instead of coding" energy. You really have to wonder why these people that seem to hate moderating so much are moderators.

You can tell by my response, but I do not like the use of "most" and "usually" in this at all. What's your standard isn't others' standards, and this is a topic which needs to be navigated gently, especially when kids are concerned. I never played the previous Horse Isles. I had no experience with the mod team, or with violations, or with anything because no one bothered to take five seconds to send me a message. No, I did not know that you would permaban me for typing a word that's in one of the most popular traditional Christmas songs in a place were only people who interacted with me would be able to see it. Most games would not do this. To take a lackadaisical approach to your literal job of community management because you want people to moderate themselves is contradictory to your claims of keeping children safe.

I will admit I was being a bit cheeky here as a subtle hint that perhaps they should take feedback, but I also would have taken a genuine response. I try my best to be as polite as possible to tech support staff because not everyone is! But they're people too and a simple thank you is worth a lot in customer service, even virtual. But Kat... you're not really giving me anything to work with here! If anyone reading this has feedback for how I could've rephrased things, feel free to comment them honestly. I actually ran drafts of these messages through a few people before sending them to make sure I was as concise and polite as possible, even if support clearly wasn't interested in reciprocating the effort ("following out rules using the the GAY to begin with"...?).

Part IV. The Backlash

I won't go too into depth in this section because it's more personal than documentarian, so feel free to skip to the next section if you want!

After this, the girlies were not happy with me. The one saving grace of HI3 that I've heard pop up over and over again is that the community is great. And a lot of users are! Don't think I'm disparaging people who play the game because I'm not-- it's a really fun experience with the right people. I was in a Discord server with a lot of people who were extremely helpful and kind.

However, within the community, there's also a pervasive culture of silence. According to Alice Ruppert of The Mane Quest, a lot of people will refuse to go public with their complaints about the staff due to fear of retribution, which I feel is unfortunate but understandable. There's a pressure to shut up and eat your food lest you be seen as someone causing controversy for the sake of it and ruining the sanctity of the game, which is an attitude explicitly encouraged by the staff (discussed more in the next section).

I liveblogged my entire correspondence with the support team to a group of other players for the 2 days I talked to them, and did have a lot of acceptance from people who appreciated someone speaking out. After the 2020 Mane Quest article, public information had sort of just gone dark as the community was pushed further into niche seclusion, despite things not improving at all. However, towards the end of my messaging, a group of people that I had never even spoken to or seen online before accused me of a variety of things ranging from "displaying my sexuality to children" (note: all I ever did was name my horses "GAY". I never once talked about my own sexuality in-game, nor did I say the word in chat ever) to "joining the server to cause drama" to "mocking the lgbt community by throwing around the word gay" (actually I'll attach a picture of this one even though I don't want to put people on blast in this section just because its so funny).

I think most of this can be attributed to the game having gained such a notoriety that longtime players, especially those with strong nostalgic feelings, have become completely desensitized to it. And this compounds with the fact that the game is so niche it doesn't yet have a good alternative to turn to to create a toxic cocktail where people tell themselves that they have to be loyal to the staff to play this one of a kind game-- and that anyone who doesn't follow them just doesn't understand. It's really sad, honestly.

Part V. Conclusions

I don't necessarily think the devs of HI3 are legitimately consciously homophobic-- unfortunately LGBT rights are still controversial amongst the largely southern and rural population of horse enthusiasts, and I could understand if they felt it necessary to skim the line towards conservatism to maintain a userbase. It's cowardly and dumb but it's not a sin to do what you have to do to survive in a capitalistic hellscape as cutthroat as the game industry.

However, what I do think the devs are is power-hungry and hypocritical. They have failed at every turn at community management because they're unwilling to admit they make mistakes, instead choosing to issue non-apologies like "[we] regret you guys got so upset and did not realize neither our true intentions nor motivations nor the whole situation [that we said it's ok that a player has a shop called The Gulag because it's 'not direct or violent']". To respond this way to a userbase filled allegedly with young children as a fully grown adult with a wife and kids is laughably out of touch. 'Sorry your fee-fees were hurt by our adult moderator responding to a serious complaint about inappropriate user-generated content with "lol", but actually you just misunderstood us and we're going to ban anyone who brings this up again' is the sort of response you'd see from the teenage mod team of an Undertale amino, not the supposedly responsible head dev of a 'rare oasis of kid friendly content'.

Telling an audience of impressionable kids that the fact that their feelings are hurt is their fault for not intuiting the intentions of 40+ year old adults is unbelievably toxic, and it's no wonder why people are so nostalgia-bound to feverishly shut down criticism about the games. They've been guilt-tripped into believing the mod team can do no wrong and any controversy, even if valid, that springs up is just extrapolated by people that haven't been laboriously groomed to know what the mod team wants to hear.

Countless times throughout my time researching and playing the game, the number one advice I've heard has always been "suck up to the mods or they won't do anything for you". It's crystal clear that the moderators care more about the joy they get from having power over some 200 users who will kiss their ass if they say a buzzword more than they care about you, your child, or the game itself.

It's essentially a model scam Kickstarter's wet dream, a game propelled to release and popularity by its singular defining feature and left to fester on the shelf as the only game in its niche market. Because of this, I believe there's truly no better way to describe HI3, with its messy backend, refusal to improve, narcissistic moderators, broken features, poor visuals, and inefficiency than as the Yandere Simulator of horse games.

#img descriptions in alt text!#lmk if there's any way I can make this more accessible! It's my first time writing something this long on tumblr :)#long post #really long posts #long posts #really long post #essay #hi3 #horse isle 3 #horse isle #fandom drama #hobby drama #discourse #homophobic scum horse chronicles

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