#anyway i liked all of their looks a lot even if most will never return (they only existed for Fashion and testing. mostly fashion)
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gothic-aesthetic-gal · 1 day ago
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Joker Cosplay Progress
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My joker cosplay is slowly coming together. It has been a bit of a nightmare for someone who doesnt have proper sewing skills, as being a woman who is plus size/fat/curvy and 5ft 11, there was no way any of the pre-made costumes would fit me. As such I have either had to heavily alter/combine existing pieces, or start from scratch.
Anyways, I am excited now it's really coming together - even with lots left to do before my next con in March :)
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Also, I have never in my 25 years of life so far, had to tie a tie! Had to look that up on youtube. I actually really like it!
I was too scared to cosplay female TDK joker for many years but more lately I have returned to cosplay after banishing my E.D. and with a much more "fuck it, we're doing it anyway" vibe :)
So yeah, if you ever feel too scared to do a cosplay, I say just go for it. You might have to do a few work-arounds for various costume pieces, but don't let it put you off. Most of all, everyone deserves to have fun in cosplay!
https://www.instagram.com/daisy_k_cosplay?igsh=MXJzaHhnYmtleWM3aw==
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inseparabiles · 17 hours ago
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I think Geta's thought process, or lack thereof, is two-fold here. When he gives the initial command for Lucius to kill Acacius, and Lucius doesn't, he doesn't know what to do with that. Which honestly, wow Geta, yeah, the guy who never once did what you told him to refused once again, shocker. You weren't prepared for this because you're my favourite moron I guess. But it's a really important shot when he's shown to hesitate after - what's he going to do about this? Nothing him and his brother are saying is having an effect. And the people aren't exactly roaring for this either, are they? There's a lot of spare him going on out there. Not all of it is just that, but he's hearing it and it's confusing him.
So he looks to Macrinus: Macrinus, in turn, tells him what the fuck are you waiting for? He's a slave and you're the Emperor. This is spared even in the final version, though it's a blink and you'll miss it nonverbal moment: Geta literally just throws his head back to look at Macrinus, and Macrinus makes the most impatient face known to mankind at him, which has to be incredibly humiliating to Geta who wants to come across competent and in control.
In the script:
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None of this is said out loud in the final cut (a LOT of this scene got thrown around), but it's plain as day in the shot anyway. Fuck Macrinus, by the way.
But Geta trusts him, because Macrinus has shown them care, he's shown them not the kind of cowering deference all the other people around them do, but the kind of guidance that you'd get from a father, which Geta never got to have - so of course Macrinus will know best again. Macrinus is an immensely succesful manager of multiple fields: he does business, he deals with the military, he manages a ludus, he dabbles in politics, and he's failing at none of it. This is a man who really seems to know what he's all about, and he's telling Geta to give the order, so he does, because this was Macrinus's idea from the beginning and of course he wants it to go smoothly and he knows what he's doing. And he cares about them. He's shown it: he saved their lives, and asked for nothing in return.
And Caracalla, Geta's other measure for how things are going, obviously loves this. Goes from foaming at the mouth mad to... whatever that is. So at this point, Geta has to think he's resolved the situation: the audience is getting really loud but the one person whom he trusts to know how to handle this kind of thing told him it was the right thing to do and Caracalla's already basking in it, so everything's fine, take it in.
I don't think he has time to really analyse that moment. He's just caught up between the pressure to make the right call quickly before things escalate, his trust that Macrinus wants the best for them, and the expected reaction to the action: noise, commotion.
And I think the shock on his face is much less for the audience's reaction as it is for how they ended up in that situation. He can't fathom Macrinus making the wrong call. It doesn't make sense. And it doesn't because he didn't but Geta's too fucking naïve to understand why this exact reaction is the one that Macrinus was always aiming for. He's too vulnerable to realise it was on purpose. The rest of his life is spent in that refusal to consider that maybe what Macrinus did and said wasn't an honest miscalculation from a man whom he's known to have everything under control until that point, because if he'd allow himself to consider that, he'd break. The one time he should have been paranoid and wasn't, because accepting that the man he'd come to view as something like a father to him hated him just as much as his real father had just... wasn't an option.
Okay I am possibly getting annoying with how much I'm posting gladiator posts one after the other rn thanks to rewatching it but
Maybe I haven't been paying enough attention but I feel like i haven't seen ppl talk about that look on Geta's face like *right* after the Lucius vs Acacius battle.
Like, how he goes from standing there arms out and still, idk 'basking' (???) And then as soon as macrinus says smth (I think) he like slowly starts lowering his arm and when you see his face it's like he's snapped out of whatever feelings he was experiencing when Acacius finally died and is now registering that "oh, people are upset. People are very VERY upset- *fuck*"
Like, maybe I'm misreading it, but for a second, he looks borderline shocked before everything seemingly registers - which just makes me wonder - what was his thought process? Was he genuinley just so caught up in the moment? Was it something else completely that I probably didn't think of?
Have other ppl written about this that I haven't seen or didn't understand properly? Guess I'll find out
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palaceoftears · 3 months ago
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Magnificent Century Rewatch: One Picspam per Episode
Episode 17: The Double Joy
-My dear mother used to say "walk barefoot on earth and it shall take away all your troubles and sorrows, earth shall give you happiness and joy"
-Your mother spoke well, one can only find peace in earth. But I'm not sure if it is on earth or in it.
#the quote is a little bit silly but it adquires seriousness when you know everything that comes later#especially because it's hurrem's mother's quote from when she lived in ruthenia. when peace was possible. when she was going to marry leo#and had her future all planned. and there was stability#but the joke is suleyman's. after all becoming part of his family is what brings that ambiguity to the quote for hurrem's story#as it could be argued she never found true peace. at least for the most of her life#but also suleyman speaks in general terms here. so the quote can be extended to all the characters and in this episode of double joy it's#even more significant. because peace it's going to go sooner than later. and the signals of future ibratice problems are already there#and just as the birds are partly symbolic of that temporal peace and joy in love for hurrem the gifts the marriage gets are very important#as well#this episode is just gifts gifts gifts all around#suleyman's necklace for hatice has the tulips of the dynasty and it's something ibrahim himself recognizes could never give her#she says she's always going to have it w her. tho i don't remember seeing it too much in her tbh sdfy#in the other side ibrahim gets a lot of gifts. but the one that reminds him of his origin is his father's ofc. and he says he will always#have it with him as well. and later he gets suleyman's ring [i'm w haticehurrem. this totally looks like a subrahim wedding asfg]#which goes to remind us that he's now officially part of his family as well. he returned but he converted again. and THEN there's the table!#and taking away the politic alliance it could signify. it is venetian. his mother's heritage is there. in all the palace. and in the same#episode hurrem mentioned her mother's saying. the dynasty [or at least the most conservative side represented by ayse] it's unconfortable#the converts are not only winning more power and getting closer to the family. but they're also bringing their cultures & traditions to the#*ba dum tss* table#there's more to the whole return/convert and how it shows in the ibratice palace especially later w the statues but if i ever write about it#it deserves a post of its own ofc [and prolly someone that knows what they're talking about more than me lmao]#noo why did i write so much 😭 i should've done a separate post this is a mess to be under an already long picspam#anyways there's other significant gifts as the clock that musti likes or mahi's lucky charm for selim. and also the ones we already knew:#the ibratice gifts together 💝. and these contrast a lot with the rest because it's something of their own. when the couple was separated#from dynastic or even ibro's family. will they ever find peace again? we'll see it in the next episode [i'm lying]#maybe i should organize this in a post of its own#magnificent century#muhtesem yuzyil#mc1picspam4episode
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valiant-portabella-pirkko · 7 months ago
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alright, time for some post-beta screens:
Inventor Irvyn - Engineer (Holosmith)
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Glaucia Razetalon - Revenant (Renegade)
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Postumus Skyslicer - Ranger (Soulbeast)
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and a bonus dabbing Ruju that absolutely nobody asked for:
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mcmansionhell · 6 months ago
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namesake mcmansion
Howdy folks! Today's McMansion is very special because a) we're returning to Maryland after a long time and b) because the street this McMansion is on is the same as my name. (It was not named after me.) Hence, it is my personal McMansion, which I guess is somewhat like when people used to by the name rights to stars even though it was pretty much a scam. (Shout out btw to my patron Andros who submitted this house to be roasted live on the McMansion Hell Patreon Livestream)
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As far as namesake McMansions go, this one is pretty good in the sense that it is high up there on the ol' McMansion scale. Built in 2011, this psuedo-Georgian bad boy boasts 6 bedrooms and 9.5 baths, all totaling around 12,000 square feet. It'll run you 2.5 million which, safe to say, is exponentially larger than its namesake's net worth.
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Now, 2011 was an anonymous year for home design, lingering in the dead period between the 2008 black hole and 2013 when the market started to actually, finally, steadily recover. As a result a lot of houses from this time basically look like 2000s McMansions but slightly less outrageous in order to quell recession-era shame.
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I'm going to be so serious here and say that the crown molding in this room is a crime against architecture, a crime against what humankind is able to accomplish with mass produced millwork, and also a general affront to common sense. I hate it so much that the more I look at it the more angry I become and that's really not healthy for me so, moving on.
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Actually, aside from the fake 2010s distressed polyester rug the rest of this room is literally, basically Windows 98 themed.
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I feel like the era of massive, hefty sets of coordinated furniture are over. However, we're the one's actually missing out by not wanting this stuff because we will never see furniture made with real wood instead of various shades of MDF or particleboard ever again.
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This is a top 10 on the scale of "least logical kitchen I've ever seen." It's as though the designers engineered this kitchen so that whoever's cooking has to take the most steps humanly possible.
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Do you ever see a window configuration so obviously made up by window companies in the 1980s that you almost have to hand it to them? You're literally letting all that warmth from the fire just disappear. But whatever I guess it's fine since we basically just LARP fire now.
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Feminism win because women's spaces are prioritized in a shared area or feminism loss because this is basically the bathroom vanity version of women be shopping? (It's the latter.)
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I couldn't get to all of this house because there were literally over a hundred photos in the listing but there are so many spaces in here that are basically just half-empty voids, and if not that then actually, literally unfinished. It's giving recession. Anyway, now for the best part:
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Not only is this the NBA Backrooms but it's also just a nonsensical basketball court. Tile floors? No lines? Just free balling in the void?
Oh, well I bet the rear exterior is totally normal.
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Not to be all sincere about it but much like yours truly who has waited until the literal last second to post this McMansion, this house really is the epitome of hubris all around. Except the house's hubris is specific to this moment in time, a time when gas was like $2/gallon. It's climate hubris. It's a testimony to just how much energy the top 1% of income earners make compared to the rest of us. I have a single window unit. This house has four air conditioning condensers. That's before we get to the monoculture, pesticide-dependent lawn or the three car garage or the asphalt driveway or the roof that'll cost almost as much as the house to replace. We really did think it would all be endless. Oops.
If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including a discord server, extra posts, and livestreams.
Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar! Student loans just started back up!
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majinbangus · 5 months ago
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happy birthday little simon
"You're inviting me to the lad's birthday?"
At this point in time, he kind of expects to get a knock on his door more times in a week than he ever did during the entire duration he's lived in this flat. Most weekdays- when you leave for work and drop off your lad at school- the boy likes to make a quick stop to say good morning. It's become somewhat of a routine. Sometimes it's a sleepy greeting, but little Simon is a cheerful child who has taken an odd liking to him, and vice versa.
"If you can make it."
Then there's you. The sunny child's mother. An easy presence to be in. Refreshing like the ocean breeze during a calm day. Something addictive he can't get enough of.
"When is it?"
This is new. You switched up the routine by coming a second time at midday after he returned from the gym, freshly showered. You faired better when he opened the door compared to that one time. Granted, he was fully dressed, but it was a little disappointing; however, you did have a reason for visiting.
He could tell by the tension surrounding your eyes. Focused like you were on a mission. He supposes you technically are on one. Inviting Simon to your boy's birthday.
"Saturday."
He furrows his brows. "This Saturday?"
"Yes."
"That's tomorrow."
"I know it's a bit last minute, but..." You sigh, running a frustrated hand over your face, frowning at the ground. "No one RSVP'd."
"No one?" Simon nearly growls, offended on the lad's behalf. "What about his friends? The little fuckers don't want to come?
You purse your lips, crossing your arms. "We sent out invites to all his classmates, but ever since we moved, Simon's been having trouble making friends."
"He has trouble?"
"It's not his fault!" You snap before grimacing, lowering your voice, "Sorry, it's just... Simon tries to make friends, but kids are mean, you know? They're young, but they already have their established friend groups and exclude him because he's new."
New. Different. Any reason along those lines. It doesn't matter to kids. Or it does, and that's why they're unjustly cruel to their peers. He understands. Simon grew up with many of his schoolmates avoiding him for being 'weird', not knowing his home life. Tommy had 'friends' but they weren't exactly a good crowd.
"So you want me to come?" Simon asks, and he's met with a tired expression he's never seen on you before—not even when you were sick and weak and needed to be looked after. You look as if you hold the weight of the world on your shoulders, about to collapse.
"He tries not to let it get him down, but if no one shows up..." You bite your lip, a flash of pain in your eyes at the thought of your son hurting. "Please? He likes you, and even if you're the only one who shows up, it'll mean a lot to him."
Simon looks at you. Really looks at you and takes in the desperation in your eyes. You look as if you'd do anything to convince him to come. Even fight him. Tie him up. Anything to drag him to your son's party. You'd probably do it, mother bear that you are.
But you don't need to do that. You won't ever have to fight another battle. Not if he can help it. Simon will fight your battles for you from now on.
"I'll come."
You have his devotion. You and your boy.
"Really?" You brighten up, the hopeless look in your eyes washing away.
He nods. "I'll bring a mate with some brats around your lad's age. They're friendly. They'll like him."
"Will they? Are you sure your friend will be okay with it?"
"They will, and the bastard owes me one, anyway."
No, he doesn't, but Johnny will pull through. Him and his seemingly endless amount of nieces and nephews, although he'll only need to bring a few.
A wide smile breaks out on your face, bright like the sun, and oh- that's where your boy got his grin. Without warning, you leap into his arms, forceful enough to make him grunt. You hug him, burying your face into his shoulder with Simon's hands hovering at your waist, fingers twitching.
It's rare to catch him off guard. So many new sensations fill his senses. Your warmth, surrounding him like a blanket; your scent, sweet and calming with a freshness to it that makes him want to bury his face into your neck and inhale. Or maybe he would bite into your soft skin to see if you taste as pleasant as you smell. If he wasn't so controlled, he probably would sate his curiosity right now.
You stiffen, your body tensing as if you're aware of what you've done, and move to back away, but Simon stops you, resting his hands on your hips. You gently melt your body against his again.
"Thank you, Simon," You softly murmur into his shoulder. It's a quiet sound, but he hears it and lets his arms wrap you in a full hug. You melt against his body, sighing. He doesn't think he's ever felt so warm before. "And just so you know... it means a lot to me, too, that you're coming."
-
Simon: > Johnny
Johnny: > Yeah, lt?
Simon: > You busy tomorrow?
Johnny: > Yes? > I have a date with that bonnie piano teacher I told you about > ... why
Simon: > Cancel it > Have something I need you to do
Johnny: > Work related?
Simon: > No
Johnny: > Then why can't you do it?
Simon: > I'm already on it > Cancel your date
Johnny: > Then why do you need me? > I'm not gonna cancel my date you dobber
-
"Cannae believe ye made us come all the way to fuckin' Manchester. Do y'know how many fuckin' hours ye made us drive, Ghost? The wee ones didnae like gettin' up so arse fuckin' early, either-"
"Shut up, Johnny. You owed me one."
"I didnae?!"
A giggle from Soap's bonnie piano teacher. "You're accent thickens when you're upset, John."
"Today was supposed to be our date!"
"It's not so bad. I still get to spend time with you."
"... Guess not, but I'll take you out proper tomorrow, promise."
"See, Johnny? Everyone wins."
"Awa’ an bile yer heid, Ghost."
-
Despite all his complaining, Johnny is a good guest and keeps the children entertained, playing the part of the fun uncle by letting the kids wrestle or play tag with him, not minding the grass stains as they roughhouse in the park. Currently, he's playing an informal football game with them—six vs. one. He's mostly blocking the ball from entering the goal, but it's still fun for all of them.
Little Simon is extra happy with his new friends. He's been smiling nonstop since they all introduced themselves, grin extra proud when he revealed his name.
("Like Uncle Simon's?"
"Yeah, he says it's a fine name!")
You also haven't stopped smiling ever since they arrived. Not quite as big as your boy's grin, but it still hasn't left. You and Soap's date get along swimmingly, too. He can already tell you'll be good friends with the teacher.
"Not gonna join them?"
Simon looks to see you standing next to him under the tree, watching the children as Soap 'misses' a shot from one of his nephews.
"Where's your friend?" He asks instead.
"Went looking for a bathroom." You gesture vaguely in the direction Soap's date disappeared off to. "So, not gonna play?"
He shakes his head. "Johnny's got it."
"Oh?" The suspiciously innocuous tone makes his eyes narrow. "Is it because he's the better footballer between you two?"
Simon slowly turns towards you, glaring with no real heat, but it still doesn't stop your panicked giggle when he takes a half step in your direction, making you back up against the tree. He gets closer and leans into your space, nearly brushing his front against yours. You audibly gulp, and Simon places a palm on the tree, hand right next to your head. He gets close to your face, watching your eyes widen then dart down to look at somewhere on the bottom half of his face before meeting his eyes again. You bite your lip.
"Repeat that for me, sweetheart." Simon growls softly, and you give a sharp, little inhale.
"U-um. I'd rather... not." Your voice comes out breathy, and you place a hand on his chest as if to stabilize yourself.
"I wasn't asking." He doesn't give you a chance to breathe, leaning in closer, and your fingers dig a little into his pec, making his muscles flex under your touch. "I'll say again: repeat that for me."
With nowhere to run, pinned to a tree, you tremble against his body, breathing heavily and barely able to meet his eyes, licking your lips. It takes you a moment to build up the nerve to speak with Simon surrounding your senses.
"I um... I um-"
"Simon, Uncle Johnny said to come play with us!"
Instantly, he backs away from you and turns around to see your boy running over. Behind him, he hears you exhale a quiet, little, "Fuck..."
Fuck, indeed.
He turns his attention to the lad once he comes to a stop in front of him. "Is that what he said?"
"Uh-huh! He said we're giving him trouble, and it'll make it more fair so he's not the only one guarding."
Simon looks over to where Johnny stands with the football held casually to the side between his arm and waist. The man smirks knowingly, glancing between you and Simon before giving a cheeky wave. He glares back. "I'll show him trouble."
"What did you say, Simon?"
He looks back at your boy. "Nothing. I'll come play."
The lad's eyes brighten with a celebratory cheer, grabbing his wrist and leading the way to the field. Simon looks back to see you better composed, if a little disheveled, but smiling nonetheless at the two like they're the only ones who matter.
-
After cake and presents, the children return to playing football with the new football that Soap gave as a present for little Simon, along with your boy wearing a jersey from the Scot's favorite team. A petty move from Soap, in Simon's opinion, but he'll let him have this one. He'll get your boy cheering for Man United soon enough.
The adults hang back in their own pairs. Soap and his date finally getting a moment to themselves, nibbling on cake and talking about whatever it is they talk about at the picnic table, and you and Simon are back under the tree, keeping a respectable distance between each other.
"Kid seems happy," Simon idly notes, watching your boy laugh and play with the younger MacTavish's. "You did good."
"Me?" You glance at him. "You were the one to bring a tiny tribe to Simon's birthday. Look at him. That smile is because of you."
"That smile is because you're a good mum," Simon states in a way that leaves no room for questions. "You were the one who made today happen. You gave your lad the birthday he deserved. He'll remember this."
Like how Simon remembers his mum doing her best to give him and Tommy the birthdays they deserved, no matter how small the celebration was.
You're looking at him as if you can't quite believe he's real, a cute, astonished look adorning your face. He's tempted to make a comment about it until you give a quiet, amazed laugh, reaching for his hand to give it a grateful squeeze. You don't pull away, and he doesn't let go.
"Even so, Simon had a great seventh birthday, and a lot of it is because of you. You did more than you had to- more than his father ever did! Bastard didn't even send a happy birthday text, son of a bitch." You exhale a heavy, calming breath. "But never mind that... What I'm trying to say is thank you. You didn't have to do what you did, and ever since we met, you've been really good to him."
You shoot him a teasing look. "What's your secret? Have a hidden family out there or something?"
A darker part of Simon is tempted to laugh. You're kind of right, in a messed up way, but he doesn't hold it against you. He hums, contemplating. "I had a nephew."
"Had?" The information takes another second to process. "Oh! I mean..."
"Don't have to say anything." Simon stares out to where the kids are playing. He imagines another boy running among them. Both younger and older than the children out in the field. Taken too young with no opportunity to grow. To live. He squeezes your hand. "He reminds me of him. Joseph. Would have been a couple years older than your lad by now, but I think they would have gotten along."
"Think so?" You send him a soft smile, stepping closer to hug his arm. "Tell me more about him?"
Simon looks at you, the warmth of your body pressed against him, and it suddenly feels like there's no one else in the world. There's just you and him under this tree, with your boy's laughter ringing like bells in the air, and that's when it hits.
Settle down... He's finally starting to get it, Tommy.
-
soap's piano teacher is something i want to write out, but idk if i'll get to it
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yanderenightmare · 5 months ago
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Modern day soft (well, as soft as he gets lol) bf sukuna hcs PLEASEEEEEE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE
Ryomen Sukuna
♡ TW: NSFW, underskirt peaking, ish innocent reader, not really hcs but anyway
♡ fem reader
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He starts liking you by chance and entirely against his own will. Having a girlfriend is not something he had in mind.
He'd have girls then and there, don't get him wrong, easy one-night stands out on the town if and when he urged for it—even had a couple of sluts on demand he was familiar with—girls he knew would let him fuck them the way he wanted to, but they weren't any special.
And then there's you, who, by all means, shouldn't be any special either. But goddamn, you stick out like a sore thumb, how could he not notice you? The way you handle the back alley bar as if it's a cozy little day café with your fresh-out-of-college appeal, he can't help but think—what on earth is a sweet thing like you doing working here at the wrong side of town after hours?
Well, at least you can pour a drink. But still, what was the owner thinking hiring someone like you—a little lady in a skirt who can't even reach the top shelves without standing on a stool? It's almost to laugh at, and he would, but... sitting on his usual spot right at the counter, he's able to look straight up your skirt and see your pretty pink panties and that awfully teasing way it cups your cunt.
And it's absurd! Because he's seen and done so many depraved things in his life, seeing up a girl's skirt shouldn't be any different, but then that's exactly it—you were different. Not like any of the sluts he's had on his belt, you're... well... you're many things, but a slut isn't one of them. But he would love to make one out of you.
He gets a little drunker than usual nowadays—always requesting top-shelf stuff. You think he's a real big spender���completely unaware he's doing it all for a glimpse. Sitting there, twirling his bourbon, daydreaming what it would be like to have someone like you in his bed. He bet you would squeal a lot—you seem like the type who'd whimper his name and cling to him. You'd whine if he pulled your hair, cry if he slapped your ass, and be real shy if he made you cum on his tongue.
It's a nice thought. He might have jerked off to the image in favor of calling on one of his arrangements. But a thought was all it was. A girl like you would never do anything like that with a guy like him. After all, working at a shitty place doesn't warrant you need to stoop to the same standards. And you were still no closer to fitting in.
You'd been a little wary of him at first. Always by the counter right next to you—rough voice and a chronic harsh glare. His face tattoos didn't help either—looking like a seasoned gangster even though he couldn't have been all that much older than you.
No matter how much you pour him, he never seems to get very drunk. But it's not all the strange either, given the size of him—bulked and built like a bear. His muscles are so big you can see every cut of them through his tank—it's a surprise the fabric holds. He barely even fits through the door.
But he's a quiet guy. Studious. It seems he's always got something weighing down his mind, and given you're the bartender, and he's your best-paying and most regular customer, it might be high time you took it upon yourself to ask him about it.
"'Penny for your thoughts, big guy?" you ask, rubbing the residue from the bottom of a glass.
He doesn't seem like he's going to answer, and you feel regret for even having asked in the first place—like, geez, why would a rough and tough-looking guy like that share any of his thoughts with you? What were you thinking?
"Why do you work here?"
You stop to look at him, blinking. You didn't exactly expect a question in return. "Uhm," you hum in nonplus, unsure how to answer. But then again, the truth isn't so hard to relay. "I dropped out of college."
You have to giggle at the raised eyebrow he gives you.
"Don't look so shocked," you say, busying yourself with wiping down the dew rings left on the counter. "I just found out it wasn't for me. All those sheep walking the same path, eating the same grass, listening to the same boring shepherd... I thought I'd enjoy being a wolf more."
He scoffs softly, more so in acknowledgment than appraisal, you think, then looks down into his glass—his expression as dour as always, unreadable.
"You don't look like a wolf," he mutters at last, taking an indifferent swig.
Of course, you could have left at that. You knew most people would find your reasoning silly, but if you were to be a wolf, you'd have to flash your teeth, puff your chest, and prove it.
And so you do, "Well, that's 'cause I'm still in sheep's-clothing!" A smirk on your face as you fold your arms atop your chest with a raised chin. "But you better watch out! 'Cause one of these days, you'll walk in here, and I'll be even fiercer-lookin' than you."
That stunts him—even more so than your speech earlier. This time, he isn't even able to keep the surprise off his face. Who would have thought you'd be this brazen? Definitely not very sheep-like, even though you look it.
He scoffs again. Maybe he'll help you out...
"Oh yeah?" he grins—and it's the first time you've seen it. Almost a sneer, but way more charming than that—loud and unapologetic with a voice to match. "How 'bout you come to my parlor after your shift, and we get started on dirtying that pristine sheep fur of yours?"
And to his surprise, you don't even waver.
"It's a date."
That night, you get your first tattoo and your first time seeing stars, being folded flat like fresh laundry, and made to cum on a stranger's tongue piercing until screaming.
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♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist
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joelscurls · 1 year ago
Text
I wanna show you off
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pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
words: 4.1k
summary: The women who live in your building aren't subtle in their hatred for you — or their affection for your boyfriend, Joel. You decide to set them straight.
warnings: 18+ minors dni, porn with plot, no outbreak, established relationship, implied age gap, horrible neighbors, general cattiness, all the ladies want Joel, alcohol consumption, fluff, explicit smut, possessive!reader, exhibitionism, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), facefucking, unprotected piv, creampie, one (1) spank, use of pet names (baby, angel, darlin', etc.), I think that's all? lmk if I missed anything!
a/n: idk what happened. I saw one too many tiktok edits set to the song agora hills by doja cat and blacked out. anyway, enjoy!
If it weren’t for your rent-controlled apartment with a perfect view of the downtown skyline, you would’ve moved out of your building by now.
Your neighbors don’t like you. You’re certain of it. You can tell by the way the ladies stick their noses up at you in the elevator and whisper to each other the second they think you’re out of earshot.
It had started, you suspect, because of your age. You’re a lot younger than all of the other residents here, your apartment left to you by your grandmother after she passed away.
The building is prime real estate, situated in the heart of one of the city’s most desirable neighborhoods. Most of the people who live here have done so for ten, twenty, even thirty years. And it seems that time has festered a sort of social hierarchy: one which places you at the very bottom.
You shouldn’t care. And you hadn’t, for a while. But their eyes have started to feel like daggers, pointed directly at you at all times, and you feel as if you can’t even enter the building without judgment.
You’re not a bad neighbor. You’re not. You’d learned through living in a dormitory in college how thin shared walls can be, and, as a result, the proper volume at which to keep your music; how you should always be cautious to not let your door slam closed on the way in; that you should never vacuum after eight pm or before eight am.
You never leave trash in the hallway, and you park your car only in your allotted spot, despite the fact that it’s the farthest away from the building.
Even so, the lack of weathering in your face makes them look at you like you’re less, like you’re a greedy little thing who has taken something she isn’t worthy of.
It’s the same way they look at you when they see you with your boyfriend, Joel, for the first time.
They leer when you walk into the foyer, hand-in-hand with an older man. He’s handsome, rugged, something out of Nicholas Sparks novel. And you’re you.
Joel thinks you’re being paranoid at first, says they couldn’t possibly hate such a sweet, friendly girl. The girl he loves so damn much. But it doesn’t take long for him to notice it too: the glares, the scoffs, the misplaced judgment — never set in his direction, only ever yours.
One Sunday afternoon, as he sits on your couch watching the Cowboys game with a sweating bottle of beer in his hand, you step out to grab your mail. You’re close to tears when you return, flinging the door open, envelopes slipping from your trembling fingers. 
He leaps up as soon as he catches sight of your face. Your expression is stuck somewhere between sadness and rage, bottom lip tucked between your teeth so firmly he worries you’ll draw blood.
“I hate them,” you sob as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his broad chest. You’re wetting his shirt, the one he just bought the other day. But he won’t let you lift your head. If anything, he holds you tighter.
“Wanna tell me what happened, darlin?” he asks, leading you toward the couch. You sit down together, your body still wrapped in his, and you groan.
“It’s stupid.” Your voice is muffled by cotton. He loosens his grip on you only enough to let you turn your face. “I was getting my mail, and they were down in the lobby,” you sniff. “The woman who lives right next door – the one with the outdated perm, and the one across the hall with the yippy little dog.”
“Mhm,” Joel soothes, running his thumb gently along the tense line of your jaw. “Did they say somethin’ to you?”
You huff. “No, not to me. They didn’t see me there.”
Their hushed voices still ring in your head like a fire alarm in need of new batteries: relentless, infuriating.
Don’t know what in the world a handsome gentleman like that is doing with a little girl like her. You’re tellin’ me. What a shame. Such a young thing – she can’t possibly know how to handle a man like that. He needs a woman his own age!
“They said I’m not good for you,” you weep. “That I’m too young. That I — I c-can’t be what you need.”
“Darlin,” Joel drawls. He fishes the tv remote off of the coffee table and flicks the screen off. Drops it somewhere next to him on the cushion. The apartment is noticeably quiet now, apart from your shaky breaths and the dull drone of an idling truck engine from the street below.
“You know I love you, right?” 
You sniff again. Nod. 
“I don’t give a shit if people think you’re too young for me,” he huffs. “You’re a grown woman. You give me everything I could possibly need and then some.”
“Yeah?” you squeak. You know deep down that Joel wouldn’t stay with you if he had any reservations about any aspect of your relationship. But after months of no reprieve from stinging glares and brash insults, you feel as if you’ve been broken down, reduced to an anxious, overwrought version of yourself. 
Joel repositions himself, sprawling back on the couch and pulling you with him so that you’re laying against him. “Yeah,” he repeats, stroking your hair. He tucks a loose strand behind your ear, away from your glassy eyes. “Those ladies can get their asses in line.” 
You laugh, then — a real, genuine laugh — the kind that Joel can somehow always pull out of you, even in the most inopportune of times.
You’re so grateful for him, for his innate ability to calm you down when it feels like the world is crumbling below your feet. Grateful that he’s yours.
You lift your head. Prop yourself up by the elbow on Joel’s thigh. Wipe away the lingering wet on your cheeks with a deep, settling breath. 
“Does it stroke your ego, having a fan club of women who wanna fuck you?”
He smirks. Pulls you closer to him with a hand cradling your face. 
“Maybe a little,” he whispers, his lips ghosting yours. “Does it stroke your ego, bein’ the only one who gets to fuck me?” 
And in truth, it does. You’re the only one who knows where he likes to be kissed, how he likes his cock stroked, how to make him cum embarrassingly quick with just your mouth.
You’ve learned him intimately, every inch of him.  Ruined him for any other woman.
So in a fucked up kind of way — it does.
“Yeah,” you admit. You suck his bottom lip into your mouth, silently reveling in the way he immediately moans, the way he bends to you.
“These all mine?” You bring a finger to his lips, sputter on a shaky exhale when he unexpectedly parts them and sucks the digit into his mouth.
“Mhm,” he hums around you, takes your free hand in his and guides it down his body, across the expanse of his torso, the plush of his belly, pausing when you reach his crotch. 
Your pulse quickens, then, a dull throb forming at the base of your neck. You extricate your finger from his mouth with a gentle pop.
“This too,” he whispers, canting his hips up toward the flat of your palm.
He’s half-hard, his clothed bulge pleading for attention. But he pulls your hand away quickly, not letting himself get carried away at the feeling of your fingers grazing him through denim. 
Instead, he re-situates it against his chest so that you can feel his heartbeat where it hammers under skin, against flesh and bone. “This is all yours too,” he says, voice so low it reverberates in your skull. 
“All of it — all of me. Don’t gotta worry your pretty little head with anythin’ anyone else has to say about the matter. Got it?”
His words are spoken with so much conviction that you have no choice but to believe them, to let them stick in your brain like anchors in sand: deep and immovable.
Yours, yours, yours. 
And nobody else’s.
“Yeah,” you smile into the column of his neck, inhaling his scent: mostly him, but with notes of you. 
“Got it.”
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It’s two weeks later when she makes a move on him: the woman with the perm. Joel is taken aback by her boldness, with you just a few feet away, digging your key into the lock of your mailbox. 
“You must work with your hands,” she purrs, grabbing one of his wrists and examining his calloused fingers with such little integrity, his mouth actually slips open at the unabashedness of it all. 
“Uh-”
“I’m Sheila,” she hums, raking her fingers through tight, blonde curls. “And you are?”
“Joel,” he grunts noncommittally. Wrenches his arm back. He doesn’t miss the way her eyebrows twitch in offense. 
But she’s insatiable, this woman. She bounces back like a rubber band, not-so-subtly pushing her breasts together, the zip of her sweatshirt slipping down an inch and her mouth curving into a salacious grin.
You just about stop dead in your tracks when you round the corner to the lobby, junk mail in hand, and see her, her body turned towards Joel’s, chest pushed out and hip popped. She has a bedazzled tote bag full of groceries slung over her shoulder, a head of leafy greens poking out the top.
“Hi neighbor!” she smiles mockingly at you, all lipstick-stained teeth, when you sidle up to Joel. “I was just telling your friend here what nice, strong arms he has.” She’s not looking at you, eyes locked firmly on Joel’s biceps, nearly drooling at the sight of him. 
Heat spools behind your ears, red-hot.
“Not her friend,” Joel corrects before you can. “‘M her boyfriend.”
“Oh,” she says. “Boyfriend.” Her lips wrap loosely around the word, like it’s some fanciful thing. “You’re too old to be someone’s boyfriend.” 
Joel takes a step away from her, closer to you, and splays a steadying hand across your back. “Man-friend, then.” 
You laugh, not because it’s funny, but because this entire conversation is fucking awkward. 
Sheila pays you no attention.
“Well,” she sighs, overtly staring at the exposed skin of Joel’s chest, where the top two buttons of his flannel are undone, “Joel, if you’re ever lookin’ for a good meal, I’m just next door.” She flits her eyes up to his and smirks. “Know a big man like you has gotta eat.”
Your vision blurs scarlet. 
Joel is equally as infuriated. The disrespect of this woman, to so openly flirt with him in front of you. His fists ball tightly at his sides. 
“Thanks, but no thanks,” he gruffs. “Anyway, nice to meet ya ma’am-“
“Sheila,” she reminds him. 
“Sheila,” he repeats, only to appease her. He turns to you, squeezing your waist affectionately. “We should probably get goin’, right sweetheart?”
You’re still fuming, barely able to register Joel’s voice next to you through the thick haze of pure fury clouding your mind, but you manage to nod, spit out a hurried yeah.
And with that, Joel is turning on his heels, pulling you with him toward the elevators. You don’t dare look back at her, but you can feel her eyes boring a hole in the back of your head. 
Her footfall fades into the mailroom and you breathe a minuscule sigh of relief. At least she’s out of your sight.
“Please just move in with me,” Joel begs when you’re finally behind closed metal doors, the inspection plaque situated above the buttons suddenly extremely interesting as you try to focus on not thinking about setting this woman’s apartment on fire.
You’ve talked about living together a few times. It’s just — you’ve never considered it so seriously until right now. 
“I can’t let them win,” you mutter, agitated. 
You hate how they’ve made you feel, like you’re some helpless animal tucked in the corner, hiding from them. Just waiting for the next ambush. 
With the passing of each floor, your anger simmers, bubbles into a silent rage in your stomach, one which threatens to boil over at the next underestimation of Joel’s devotion to you. You need to make it known, once and for all, that he’s yours. 
Words from your grandmother play on a loop in your head, ones she repeated to you often when you were a child: if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. 
And then you have a thought — a devious thought — maybe you don’t have to say anything to get your point across. Not to them, anyway.
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Your mouth is on Joel the second you’re back inside the four walls of your own apartment, slotting against his pulse point and sucking a desperate bruise there.
He’s not expecting it — why would he be? You’ve just been seething the entire elevator ride up to your floor, the entire walk down the long, winding hallway to your unit. He’d practically been able to see the steam billowing from your ears. 
So the switch-up is more than a bit dizzying, to say the least.
“Whoa, darlin’,” he pants, his large hands draping over your shoulders. “What are you-”
“Joel.” Your voice is stern; it demands his attention. “Do you trust me?” 
Your hand trails down his body languidly, in a straight line to the waistband of his jeans. And fuck, of course he trusts you — more than anyone. But this is wrong, fucked up, for you to make him feel good when you’ve been made to feel so small these past few minutes. 
Still, his cock doesn’t get the memo, twitching in his jeans as you place another open-mouthed kiss on the underside of his jaw, your fingers beginning to fiddle with his belt buckle. 
You give him no choice with the way you’re touching him, the way you’re looking at him when you pull back, all pleading eyes and parted mouth, but to resign all protest. He’ll give you the world, and if right now you want to use his body to blow off some steam, who is he to complain about it?
“Yeah baby, of course,” he breathes. “What do you need?”
You smirk at him audaciously, tongue smoothing over your teeth. “Need you to be loud,” you purr. Your voice is so innocent in juxtaposition to the words you spew. It sends a chill down the column of his spine. “Let them know who makes you feel good.” 
He nearly cums in his pants untouched, grasps at the fabric of your shirt with clumsy hands and nods. “Fuck, okay.”
His belt falls to the floor with a clang.
He lets you take control, then. Lets you mark him with your tongue and your teeth, lets you back him to the door with deft fingers working his shirt buttons open before sinking to your knees in front of him, freeing his hardening cock from the confines of his jeans and boxers.
It’s already weeping for you when you pull it out, precum beading at the tip. He’s so big, growing heavier in your hand with each passing second, and you lose yourself for a moment, hypnotized by him.
“Always so eager to please me, aren’t you, pretty girl?” Joel’s voice pulls you back to earth, soft and adoring.
“Louder,” you remind him. Plant a kiss right over top of his leaking slit.
“Fuck,” he hisses through his teeth. One of his hands flies to the crown of your head, anchoring himself with fingers in your hair. “Dirty fucking girl.” 
His voice fills the entranceway, confident and filthy. 
“Mmm,” you hum approvingly.
“Yeah? You want me to tell ‘em? Tell ‘em you’re making my cock drool for you? That nobody — shit-” You enclose your lips around his tip, suckling on it as your fingers wrap around the base of his length and you begin to stroke him lazily. “-that nobody has ever made me feel this good?” 
Footsteps echo down the hallway and the sound makes you reflexively pause, your hand stiling on Joel’s cock. It’s followed by the jingling of metal, the click of a key in a lock, the opening and closing of a door — all close enough that you can pinpoint the source, can tell where exactly it’s coming from. 
Sheila is home. 
Perfect.
It’s probably worrying how excited it makes you, the prospect of her hearing, of her sitting alone in her apartment, at her empty dining table, and listening to Joel fall apart at your hands. Maybe they’ve driven you to and over the edge of sanity with their words, her most of all. Regardless, you can’t help the way it makes your cunt flutter around nothing. 
You lick a slow stripe up the underside of Joel’s cock, starting just above his balls and dragging the flat of your tongue up, up, up to his tip. His breath shudders, his grip on your hair tightening, and the subtle sting at the center of your scalp gives you another idea. 
“Do you wanna fuck my face, Joel?” 
“Do I wanna — fuck — you’re gonna kill me, angel.” 
“Go ahead,” you encourage, unhinging your jaw as wide as it can go, letting your tongue droop over your bottom lip. 
Saliva pools in your waiting mouth and Joel groans at the sight of you, so malleable for him, begging to be used. 
“You sure?” 
It’s not that he doesn’t think you can handle it. He knows you can. You’ve taken him down your throat more times than he can count. Always so fucking eager to please him, you are — just one of the many reasons he feels so goddamn lucky, so infuriated that anyone would think otherwise. 
But still, he can’t help but worry that he’ll hurt you. 
You nod, eyes locked on him, confirming beyond a shadow of a doubt that you want this. He nods back, beginning to feed his cock into your mouth, easing it in slowly and halting when his head hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag.
You don’t pull away, don’t show any indication of displeasure. In fact, you dig your fingers into the meat of his thighs, bearing down on him as you push forward. Mascara tears stain your cheeks as you choke on him, laser-focused on relaxing your throat so that you can accommodate more of his length. 
Joel pulls back, retreating entirely before pushing in again. He slowly increases his pace, your eyes hooded, so doelike and innocent, as his cockhead bruises your larynx. 
The sounds he’s pulling from your mouth are absurdly lewd: muffled gags and frantic inhales of breath. And then there’s him, moaning wildly, not sure if he’d be able to shut up even if he needed to be quiet. Your mouth is good, too fucking good and he’s going to — fuck, he’s going to cum if you don’t stop. 
He pulls out abruptly, a string of drool and precum tethering the tip of his cock to your swollen bottom lip. You’re panting, coughing, still bracing yourself against his legs when you fucking smile up at him. 
“Christ,” he says. “Fuckin’ angel, you are. Mouth feels like goddamn heaven.” 
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. But I need to cum in that perfect little cunt,” he breathes, pulling a strangled moan from the back of your rawed throat. 
He helps you up, spins you around to face the door. You brace both hands on the wood, humming as he pulls your pants down to your knees. His breath is on the back of your neck, trailing up to the shell of your ear with one whisper just for you, because he can’t help it. 
“So fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” 
You shiver, responding with a tilt of your head, inviting him in with a needy little mewl. He cradles your face in one of his large hands, the other rubbing over the curve of your ass as he kisses you passionately, tasting himself on your tongue.
The hand on your ass trails lower as he deepens the kiss, two fingers pressing against your clothed seam. You’ve all but soaked through the fabric, wet cotton molding to his knuckles as he caresses them along your pussy before pulling your panties down in one swift motion.
You whine into the kiss, desperate and dripping for him. “Please,” you breathe against his lips. “I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.”
“Know you will,” he coos, mouth parting from yours as he straightens out and lines himself up with your entrance. You arch your back, rocking onto the balls of your feet as he teases you with the tip.
His cock is so thick when it finally notches into you. It’s always so devastatingly thick, no matter how wet you are for him. The stretch stings, a jolt of warm pain coursing through your walls as he stills halfway in. 
“You okay?” he asks, one hand resting at the small of your back, the other on your hip, fingers gripping to you only tight enough to hold you in place.
“Yes, fuck — yes,” you whine. “Need you to fuck me, Joel.”
“I’m goin’ to baby, don’t worry,” 'he promises, pushing in another splitting inch. “Pussy’s so goddamn tight, ‘ts suckin’ me right in.”
It feels like hours pass with Joel’s cock motionless inside your aching cunt, his warm breath fanning across your back as he focuses on not cumming. You’re whimpering, begging under the weight of his body, to please just fucking move.
When he finally obliges you, pulling all the way out and then bottoming out in one deep thrust, it nearly punches the air out of your chest. You scrabble for purchase on the door, fingernails scraping against chipped paint. “F-uucckk,” you moan, eyes rolling back in your head as he sets a dizzying pace.
The sound of his balls slapping against the back of your thighs is enough to attract attention on its own, the loud smacksmacksmack going straight to your cunt. Joel growls behind you, driving into you even harder, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot. 
“Oh, shit,” you cry. Your pussy inadvertently squeezes him and he curses at your back, low and deep. 
“Not going to last if you keep doin’ that,” he warns. “Cunt is too fuckin’ good. Best I’ve ever — uuuhh — had.”
He’s not just saying it for show. It’s true. You know it is, too. He’s told you before, both under the influence of your pussy and not. Waited too many goddamn years to feel like this, he’d said once.
“It’s — fuck, it’s fine Joel,” you mutter. “I’m close too, just keep going, right there.”
A door across the hall creaks open. A pair of footsteps patter across tile. 
Do you hear that?  Yeah; what is that noise?
Joel laughs darkly behind you, snaps his hips up, forcing a guttural moan out of you. 
“Think they caught us, darlin’,” he says. “Caught you takin’ my cock like you’re fuckin’ made to.”
Oh my word!
Joel is unrelenting, pounding into you despite the voices right outside your apartment, and you fear for a moment that you’ve created a monster. One of his hands leaves its place on your waist, cracks down on the center of your asscheek with a slap, the flesh recoiling under his palm and you gasp. 
The feeling travels between your legs, straight to your neglected clit. It pulsates under the hood with every pass of Joel’s cock over your g-spot, and you feel yourself hurtling toward the edge dangerously fast. 
If these people don’t leave, they’re going to hear you cum. Do you want them to hear you cum? Yeah, you think, clit jumping again at the thought, I think I fucking do.
“Joel, fuck-”
“You gonna cum?” he goads. “Yeah, can feel you squeezin’ me — you’re gonna cum, aren’t ya?”
This is vulgar!  We should file a noise complaint. C’mon.
His hand snakes around your front then, finds your throbbing bud, and with a few passes of his calloused fingertips, you’re gone, vision whiting out and all noise around you muted. 
Joel keeps you upright between him and the door, his grip on you tightening as your muscles slacken. He follows closely behind, cumming inside you with a carnal noise from the back of his throat, rope after rope of his spend filling your cunt. 
He pulls out with a grunt, immediately collapsing on the floor. Without his support, you topple over too, falling onto his lap with a satiated giggle. 
A banging comes from the other side of the wall then, shaking your kitchen cabinets a few feet away, the clanging of glassware jolting you.
Keep it down next time! I don’t need to hear that!
And then you’re laughing like teenagers, Joel pulling you in for a sloppy kiss, all tongues and teeth. 
“Think they’re really gonna make a noise complaint?” Joel asks when you finally come up for air. 
“I dunno,” you smile. “Does your offer still stand — for me to move in with you?” 
“Always,” he vows, forehead resting against yours.
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end notes: ty for reading! pls consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed <3
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strwberri-milk · 1 month ago
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hii can i ask u to write hc about boys when they say something in conversation that will hurt mc, for example when they will mention her appearance like rafayel in ebb when he said 'its round like u'. hope u have great dayy<33
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Zayne, being a doctor, has lots of opinions about some of your unhealthier habits. He doesn't share them all the time because he never wants to come off as nagging but you don't need him to say anything to know that he's staring at you judgmentally. He averts your gaze when you turn to him but it's already too late.
You feel yourself becoming demoralised, whatever you were doing totally abandoned as you decide to leave. Zayne knows exactly what happened, cursing himself for not keeping himself in check around you. He just can't help but worry, wanting to see you take care of yourself. The second you try to leave he grabs your wrist, apologising as he tells you it's just because he loves you.
He promises to use his words next time. You sniffle a little, deciding to act a little immature as you tell him that the issue is that he makes it very clear what he thinks. You'd rather him just tell you rather than look at you judgmentally, Zayne unaware just how it looked to you. Generally, he keeps his expression neutral but whenever it comes to you he wears his heart on his sleeve. Or he thinks he does - you've just become so attuned to him that you know what every slight quirk of his brow means.
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Xavier also does micro expressions that seem a little judgemental, generally whenever you say something he finds a little odd. He isn't sure if it's just because he's missing some context but when he does it one too many times in a conversation you begin to mutter an apology for boring him.
He's tripping over himself to try and correct you, wanting to tell you that it's not that he's bored, he's just struggling to follow the conversation. You confront him by telling him that even when he's following the conversation just fine he still makes faces at you sometimes. He's now forced to admit that he thinks he makes faces the more tired he gets, body subconsciously trying to get the conversation to end so he can go flop onto the nearest fluffy surface.
However, since it hurts your feelings he does his best to monitor himself, trying to be more active in your conversations. You can see how tired he is though, taking pity on him and telling him to go take a nap. You'll be there to infodump on him when you wake up anyway.
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Rafayel says things off handedly, especially when he's not feeling well. Normally you can take it well but today you just couldn't, his passive insult hitting you hard. He watches your face cloud over, brows furrowing as he tries to understand what this sudden shift in your mood is attributed to.
You make it clear it's because of what he said about you, the one statement being the straw that broke the camel's back. You ignore him, not wanting to even look at him as you walk away from him. You try to cool off, your mind spinning as his unintentional words play over and over again. It takes you a while before you can even speak to him normally and when you seek him out he looks like a scolded dog.
He immediately perks up when he sees you, apologising profusely when you come back to him. Despite being mad at him, you also know he provides the most comfort so you crawl into his lap and begin to scold him. He takes it in stride, knowing that he messed up and promising that he'll take better note of your mood to know when he should and shouldn't joke with you about things like that.
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Sylus has a sharp tongue like Rafayel but he sounds slightly more "serious" when he says those things. His voice doesn't lend well to jokes unfortunately, meaning that if you're feeling a little more raw one day then you're going to take his words seriously, just like today.
He doesn't let you run from him though - grabbing you and asking you what the problem is. You normally can take his teasing, returning it to him twofold. When you don't quip at him he knows something is wrong, waiting for you to use your words and tell him. He's patient whenever it comes to you thankfully, letting you take your time. You struggle in his grip a little, not wanting to tell him right away but the warmth he provides is just too good so you bury yourself in his chest, telling him that he hurt your feelings.
He coos at you sweetly, telling you how adorable you are and apologising by peppering your face in kisses. He hates making you sad and even if he doesn't overtly say it, you know he regrets it by how he's careful not to insult you if you don't start it first, using how you speak to him as a gauge before returning with some of his usual playful nips at you.
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namism · 1 month ago
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Zoro x reader, nsfw
Where Zoro notices reader zones out a lot, and when asked, reader says the most downbad stuff that has even him blushing.
Zoro: what's wrong with you?
Reader: Oh nothing, just wondering what it'd be like to be pressed through the mattress.
Zoro: 👁👁
Reader: oh....I said that out loud, didn't I?
pay attention | roronoa zoro (1)
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➳ categories: canonverse, female reader from the heart pirates
➳ warnings: nsfw (top zoro, bottom reader, afab reader)
➳ word count: 3.6k
➳ summary: Zoro often catches you staring into nothingness the moment the Straw Hats allied with the Heart Pirates, but lately he realizes that you've been zoning out as you look at him. Eyes trained, dumbfounded. What could be the reason behind your constant staring, if not a silent request for something in particular?
➳ notes: you absolutely COOKED with this request. anyway, the exposition is rather long and the zoning out part was kinda exaggerated, but the good news is that i have plans on writing part 2. here's to my first full-length one piece nsfw fic 🥂
➳ cross-posted on ao3
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"Oi. What are you looking at?"
A man's voice echoes from a distance, lower-pitched with a distinct timbre that sounds a bit familiar. He repeats the question, but it registers remotely in your brain as you keep your eyes trained on the dirt and moss on the ground.
"Strange," he mutters to himself as he watches you sit still on the forest floor, cross-legged and unresponsive to his question. Even as he stands in front of you, he can't seem to elicit a response.
"Zoro, you got lost again! Come back here!"
Zoro looks toward the direction where he came from. He grumbles to himself upon seeing Usopp running at top speed. "I did not get lost!"
"Explain why you ran into the— oh, is that (Y/N)?"
Usopp slows down in his tracks as he nears the both of you. With your head down on the ground, he suspects that something is wrong.
"Is she okay?"
Zoro shrugs. He tells Usopp that you've been sitting alone in the forest for the past 10 minutes, and that he just so happened to see you in the middle of a stroll. Usopp called bullshit, knowing damn well that Zoro wandered off on his own and got lost in the forest, but all jokes aside, he figured that they should lend you a hand and take you back to base, else your Captain gets mad at their discourtesy. Usopp snaps his fingers in front of you, waving a hand after the other to catch your attention, but you remain quiet.
When Zoro picks you up, however, that's when you respond in panic.
"Ahhh!" you scream as you're lifted into the air, Zoro's muscled arms supporting the back of your knees and neck as he holds your body. You stiffen in his arms, realizing the events that just unfolded. "What's happening?!"
"Idiot. You were sulking in the forest, long face and everything." Zoro clicks his tongue as he shakes his head in the process. You slap your cheeks with your two hands, mortified.
"Well, put me down!" You wiggle your feet in protest as the embarrassment sinks in. Zoro is alarmed by your antics, causing him to put you back on the ground. When you regain your balance, you run out of the forest and leave the man and his crewmate alone.
Usopp sighs at the turn of events and suggests that they return to the base where the alliance has gathered. As Zoro follows him from behind, he wonders to himself what you were doing, what trance you had just put yourself into, and why you decided to space out in the middle of a forest, out of all places.
The moment the Straw Hats met the rest of the Heart Pirates in Wano, Zoro realized that you zone out a lot for reasons that he couldn't (and still can't) explain. Always withdrawn from the crowd, seated at the back of gatherings unless you were needed, he noticed that you had a strange habit of spacing out regardless of where you were. He initially assumed you just had a lot in your mind, so he never bothered to find out what made you stare into nothingness as often as you did (since it wasn't even his business to begin with). However, he still questions it from time to time, therefore making him more observant of your peculiar behavior.
A few days later, Zoro can't believe his eyes when he encounters you zoning out for the nth time that month. You sit alone at the foot of a cottage, the outer garment of your kimono falling down the front steps gracefully. As you look into the distance, Zoro wonders why, out of all things you could stare at in this abandoned village that the alliance calls their base, you choose to gape at his laidback form under the awning of a rundown shed.
With narrowed eyes, he looks back at you with a firm stare, yet you show no sign of response or discomfort. That's his cue to think. You're spacing out again, and of that, he's certain, but Zoro still has no clue what's gotten into you and what exactly is running through that little brain of yours. Are you thinking of the alliance's plans? No, he saw you listening to Kin'emon's instructions earlier (and he's surprised that he knows that, because why did he bother observing you outside of your strange encounters?). Are you thinking of your crew? No, you couldn't be, because Captain Law is handling things on his own, and the situation is assumed to be under control. Are you thinking of your friends and their safety? Possibly, but Zoro can't imagine you looking this stupefied if you are concerned for your friends.
Your expression tells a lot but so little at the same time. Your tilted head, your wide eyes and blown irises, your mouth slightly agape, your fallen shoulders—Zoro can deduce a bountiful of scenarios that would draw out this expression from you, but each one doesn't seem so right. He can't put a finger on it. Every guess feels confident until it suddenly feels so wrong.
As he lays under the awning with his three swords to his right and his arms folded to support the back of his head, Zoro decides to maintain his staring, a way to evoke a reaction from you. Although you endure, your eyes not leaving his as his don't leave yours. At this point, he wants to find out the cause of your gawking because it's disturbing him more than he expected it to, especially since your subject of focus—or rather, the lack of it—is him.
As his brain runs dry of ideas, he decides to go up to you and ask. But even when he crosses the dirt path that traverses the shed and your cottage, you don't budge.
"Give it up. What's wrong with you, huh?" he asks once he's at the foot of the steps of your cottage, his hands coming to cross over his chest while he confronts you. No response. "Oi! You're worrying the guy. What's troubling you?"
Zoro is surprised when you slowly lift your head and meet his eyes with your blown ones. You mumble something under your breath, but he doesn't hear.
"Huh?" he asks.
"Nothing," you mumble again, but this time a little louder. "Just wondering how it feels to..."
Muttering follows.
"What?" he asks again, annoyed.
You, however, don't notice the annoyance on his face, instead noticing everything but it. Zoro has a handsome face that even annoyance, a disgusted expression, or the scar on his left eye can't erase his objectively good-looking features.
He has a muscular body, bulky, better than the ones you've seen on the different islands that your crew have been to, and you imagine them looking even better without his kimono obstructing the view. You can see a bit of his chest peeking through the garment, an evident scar running from his left shoulder to his right hip. His build surprises you, further sending you into a trance yet again as you focus on the side of his neck.
"Just... just wondering..." you mumble, hypnotized.
Zoro awaits your words.
"Wondering how... how it feels to be pinned down by you on a bed..."
He freezes up.
His face twists into different emotions, but most importantly, it erupts into flames.
"Wha— what the hell did you just say?!"
It's your turn to freeze up. At long last, you snap out of your thoughts and you return to reality. Zoro stands in front of you with raised shoulders and a harsh blush spreading across his cheeks. His eyebrows are downturned, his eyes are narrowed. He grits his teeth and holds back his tongue at your strange remark.
"Oh no..."
Irises quivering, you slowly look to the side, your very own cheeks hot upon realization.
"I... I said that out loud, didn't I?"
"You couldn't have been any quieter!" Zoro sarcastically replies, avoiding your gaze as well. "I can't believe it. Unbelievable. That's what you've been thinking the entire time you were staring at me?"
You cover your face with your hands. "It wasn't!"
"Tsk. Idiot. How about the many other times you weren't paying attention?" he asks. "Was I on your mind in that forest, too?"
"I was with Ikkaku!" you exclaim defensively as you face him. Zoro lifts an eyebrow, doubting the truthfulness of your answer. "We were hunting for ordeal beans to make medicine out of them— hey, what the hell is up with that face? I'm telling the truth!"
"Like I would believe that!" Zoro yells back. You whimper into your hands as he reads through you. Whether or not you were picking out medicinal plants in the forest with Ikkaku, he knows for a fact that you have been thinking of him. To think that you dodged his second question confirms it.
"I'm sorry!" you apologize breathlessly. Standing up, you rush inside the cottage where you hide yourself from Zoro in shame.
"Don't just leave!"
Zoro runs after you and enters the cottage. A one-room building, the space is enough to shelter two people. A dusty counter and a complementary sink take the space on one wall, while a used mattress is positioned across it on the ground. You face the corner wall where your mattress is located in a kneeled position, sobbing to yourself as you quiver in fright.
Zoro leans on the doorway, watching you shake silently.
He thinks to himself deeply.
After a few moments, he sighs and proceeds to remove his swords from the haramaki on his hip, leaving them by the wall next to the door.
"Lay down."
You stop shaking.
"What?" you ask.
Zoro grunts. "Well, if you were curious..."
You look over your shoulder. He stands by the foot of the mattress, his sandals discarded by the front door that is now closed. Is this reality or is this a figment of your imagination?
Your brain betrays you when you feel the aching need at the pit of your stomach. With the front door now closed, it's harder to see the interior, the remaining source of light coming from the setting sun that shines through the spaces of straw and bamboo of the cottage's walls. Even then, you can make out Zoro's figure, the outline of his muscled body coming closer.
You turn around on your knees and crawl toward the edge of the mattress, stopping when you feel the texture of the tatami mat on your fingertips. As you look up, you throb at the sight of the man in front of you.
Zoro clicks his tongue before diving into you, swiftly grabbing both your hands mid-air and trapping you against the mattress as he hovers over your frame. He holds your hands by the side of your head, and leans down closer to your face.
You gasp at the position you're in, your legs spread out under him as his legs hold up his weight on either side of you. Zoro is mere inches away from your face, perhaps trying to see a reaction to gauge whether or not he's doing things right, but all he could tell from your strained expression and glossed eyes is an ambiguous desire for... something else.
He comes even closer, and the need for something more travels from the pit of your stomach to your lower regions. Just a few more inches, and you can finally come close enough to—
"There. You got what you wanted."
Suddenly, Zoro retracts his head and lets go of your hands. He sits on the heels of his feet as he reaches for his sandals and prepares to leave like nothing happened.
Before he could do that, however, you quickly grab the material of his kimono and direct his face toward yours, kissing him.
Zoro freezes for a good second before he tries to kiss back to the best of his abilities. He lets you do whatever in his mouth as he supposes it would dissipate the need in your eyes and satisfy your unusual desires. Unskilled, he follows your lead in a confusingly hungry kiss, something new to him but enough to his liking.
You initiate the rush in your hunger to taste him. You play with the exposed skin on his chest, your hands feeling the muscles you always dreamed of touching. You swipe your hands underneath his kimono and touch him as far as you could reach until you undress his sleeves and let them fall to the side.
Crawling closer, you sit yourself on his thighs and hold yourself up by throwing an arm around his neck. You moan softly when Zoro tugs on your lips, but you push him away at the lack of air.
"Sorry," you mutter. "Too much?"
He shakes his head.
"Whatever."
It's him who initiates next. Zoro places his hands on your back and kisses you with the same intensity, if not more. As you feel the muscles of his chest, you decide to pry his other hand away from the small of your back and guide it to the front of your kimono.
You pull away momentarily.
"Feel me... right here."
You lead his hand to the small opening of your garment. Zoro slips his hand and feels your breasts. He runs his calloused fingers across them, feeling the curve of each one and pressing down on the mounds to fondle them better. You moan in his mouth when he swipes a finger across your nipple, followed by a sigh of relief as he tugs and plays on it between his fingers.
You soon untie the ribbon on your kimono and open the garment to reveal your body. Zoro groans at the stretch of exposed skin and allows his hands to wander around. Drawing away from his lips, you pull one side of his garment's knot and open his kimono to uncover the rest of his torso, as well as his hard-on further down.
Amid his hot touches on your tits, you push Zoro down on the mattress with forceful hands on his shoulders, to which he allows without resistance. Straddling him, you place yourself on his abdomen and subtly feel the tip of his hard dick from behind. You fall forward, kissing his lips again hungrily as you grow wetter by the second.
"I want you," you moan in his mouth, "fuck, I want to taste you. Can I?"
Zoro groans when you ask. While unexpected, he isn't opposed to it; if anything, he's glad that you brought it up. He pushes down on your shoulders as a wordless acceptance to your sinful request, and you follow in agreement. You crawl down his large body until you're resting on your heels and leaning forward, face-to-face with his dick.
You cuss at the sight. A guy like Zoro would of course be huge, a fact that isn't surprising to you anymore. You trace his dick with your finger, measuring him with your eyes and figuring out how you want to take him later on. You give into your thoughts eventually, taking his stiff cock in your hand and pressing your lips to his tip.
Feeling him in your mouth sends excitement in your pussy, so you take him in, inch by inch as you hollow your cheeks and do it slowly. Drool slides down the side of his cock the further down you go. When you hit the base of his dick, you rhythmically swirl your tongue back and forth on his underside, earning yourself a soft grunt from his parted lips.
You retract your head, pulling his cock out of your mouth seductively as you breathe out. You take in his tip again and suck on it several times as you look up at Zoro and discern the expression on his face. As he remains quiet, you go deeper on his dick and work your hand on his base, expertly moving up and down in a rhythm that has him moaning lowly. You continue your flow as you bob your head on his first few inches, oftentimes playing with his balls which he's seemingly pleased by, until he places a hand at the back of your head at his arriving release.
Zoro didn't mean to guide you on his dick, but the tightening knot in his gut and balls tells him to direct your head to where he wants you. So he does, his hand holding locks of your hair and maneuvering your head with his cock still inches deep in your mouth. He pulls your lips away from his dick and decides that he wants your tongue on his underside again, holding himself up with one hand and guiding your tongue to the spot with the other. Zoro grunts sharply as soon as you direct your ministrations on the bottom of his dick, where a large vein runs up from the base. Beads of cum spill from his tip until he's spilling entirely that has him groaning aloud, but your hand and tongue don't stop until he's fully done.
You run your lips across his dripping cock and moan at the taste of him, then you climb back up on his body and kiss him. Zoro doesn't mind the cum that glazes your lips, more concerned of feeling you up again as he misses the touch and feel of your tits. He gropes your chest like a man starved while you kiss him hotly.
"Mmm, I wanna ride you," you mutter in between kisses. You don't wait for Zoro's reply as you grip his cock from behind, in the process of stiffening yet again for you, and pump it a couple of times before raising yourself to your knees and sinking onto his dick. Zoro's hands fall to your waist as you do so, liking the wetness and warmth of your pussy on his tip.
"Put it in," he says, and that's your cue to do as told. You sink into him easily, wet slick coating him and slowly feeling the ridges of his cock in your pussy the more of him you take. You love his size, his girth so perfect for you as he gives you that stretch that you like best. Once you take all of him, you ride his cock slowly before finding a nice pace that you can maintain. "Fuck. That feels good."
You ride Zoro until he comes undone by the second, finding joy in hearing his vocal remarks with every bounce on his dick. Eventually you lean forward, your head thrown to the side of his neck as you lazily ride him, exhausted. Zoro takes the liberty of wrapping his arms around your waist before his hands slither down to your ass and play with them, squeezing and slapping like he just did with your tits.
When you tiredly slow down, his stamina fires up and he thrusts upward into your pussy so rapidly that he has you screaming. He continues the lead—your wet pussy so good that he slips out a couple of times, the leftover cum on his dick turning out to be unhelpful.
Once you're spent, Zoro takes the upper hand and flips you on your back. He now towers over you, his hands finding yours and pinning you again on the mattress like he did earlier. You shudder as he exits you, the absence of his dick inside your pussy leaving an empty miserable feeling—but Zoro doesn't plan on leaving you anytime soon as he comes back in quickly, this time with more energized thrusts pulled from his deep desire to fuck you and your pussy until you're completely done.
"Spread your legs wider," he orders hurriedly and you comply before he starts plunging into you deeply with every thrust of his hips. Legs pressed to your chest, he has better access to your little pussy now. He groans at your messy slick dripping on the mattress and at the white creamy cum on his dick that's pushed to his base every time he disappears inside you.
Zoro is turned on by the desperate way you moan his name. His stamina increases, but he grows tired of his pace and repositions himself on top of you eventually. Holding onto your tits, he rams faster into you than before, eliciting another pleasured scream from the back of your throat.
Your hands grip his strong ones that play with your chest. You want to cum, but you hold back a little longer as Zoro pushes himself deeper. You tap his hand with your finger and guide it to your clit, moaning in relief when he hits the right spot.
"Hah— like this? Fuck." He fiddles with your clit before he finds a nice rhythm with his thumb that you seem to enjoy. You nod your head rapidly.
"Yes," you moan, "yes, yes, yes— fuck! Oh my god, Zoro, keep it like that, keep it like that. Please keep it that way—"
Zoro listens to your pleas and maintains his pace on your clit. You snap a few moments later, coming undone with shaky legs as you cry out his name. Zoro keeps himself steady until he's cumming himself, pulling out and spilling on your belly with low delicious grunts.
As he calms down, he pumps himself slowly and watches you clean your painted stomach by eating much of his cum. His dick stirs at your act, but the cloud of lust eventually dissipates and he's looking away from you in shame.
He pulls himself together and reaches for his kimono. You follow, but you spontaneously decide to kiss him first before doing so.
"Thank you," you say softly. He looks at you, finding the right words to say.
"Just ask next time," he mumbles before dressing himself.
513 notes · View notes
seokgyuu · 4 months ago
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After your flawless job-interview, Seokmin hires you as the newest addition to his company. Just that, once you start, it seems like you’re not who you previously portrayed to be. Instead, he finds himself faced with mini-skirts, push-up bras and gawking co-workers, not to mention your absolute lack of work ethic. Obviously, he needs to fire you! Just that, when he tries to… you simply don’t let him.
Pairing: Boss!Seokmin x Employee!F!Reader
Genre: Porn with the smallest bits of plot, workplace “romance”, Smut MDNI!
Warnings: Morally gray characters, Seokmin is obviously reader’s boss and shouldn’t be fucking her, power imbalance, reader gets objectified a lot, but she enjoys it, reader is… acting very dumb (on purpose), Smut warnings under the cut!
Word Count: 3.7k
A/N: Hi everyone!! welcome to this little work of… filth! Making my return with a Seokmin fic just felt right (also I just could not stop thinking about this). Please let me know what you think with a reply or a reblog, it would mean the world to me!! also a big thanks to @shadowkoo for making this AMAZING banner and to @bitchlessdino for beta-ing!!
tagging: @okiedokrie, @inkchwe, @shinysobi, @gyuhanniescarat, @haologram, @beomcoups @wongyuseokie, @the-boy-meets-evil, @multi-kpop-fanfics (just some of my fellow dk enjoyers)
Smut Warnings: oral (m receiving), face fucking, praise (good girl, etc.), degradation (whore, etc.), unprotected sex, titjob, breeding, usage of the word “Sir” in a sexual context, tell me if i missed anything!
His phone rings. The Harry Potter title music is playing, letting him know it’s his sister calling. He can’t pick up, or well, no, he can, considering his hands are free, but he probably shouldn’t.
Having talks with his employees about having to let them go is Seokmin’s least favorite thing about being the boss. He never wants anyone to feel like they weren’t good enough or couldn’t live up to any expectations, but sometimes… sometimes it was inevitable.
Like with you.
When you had first walked into your interview, you impressed him with your sharp tongue and your witty humor. Your resume looked perfect for the job, and your previous experience was exactly what he needed. He hired you the following week and deemed his decision a good one - until you showed up for your first day.
See, before anything else, Seokmin is simply just a man. A man with eyes and needs and desires.
The mini skirt barely covered your backside, showed off your legs and those perfect thighs you had hidden from sight before. Your dress shirt would have been fine for the office if only it wasn’t… half open. Or at least open enough to see your breasts almost falling out of your push-up bra.
He knew back then that he should say something. Tell you that this wasn’t appropriate to wear to work. But he didn’t. For the same reason, his mostly male staff began coming into work more punctually, more eagerly and stayed for even longer hours.
It was a mistake, he thinks now, not to say anything to you on your first day. Or any other day after that.
A mistake or the single best decision he had ever made.
Truth be told, he’d never called you into his office to discuss his decision to let you go if it was only about the clothes (or lack thereof) you wore to work. No, he was fine with the clothes, more than fine, actually, if you took just one look at the amount of tissues discarded in his office’s trash can.
But… you lacked certain skills he had thought you’d easily have, considering your previous jobs. You struggled doing, in his opinion, the most basic tasks, and more or less let the others do the work for you. The work he paid you to do. Instead, you sat at your desk all day and played Solitaire or scrolled on Instagram.
The two of you almost never interacted, mainly because he was scared to say the wrong thing or stare too long at your breasts he couldn’t stop thinking about anyway. When it did happen that he had to talk to you, it mostly went with him going back to his office with a raging boner and a guilty conscience.
One time, he brought back some prints from the copy room, only to find out you had been the one to print them. When he asked around the room and you were the one to raise your hand and get up from your chair he almost choked on his spit. You made your way over him, your tight dress hugging every single one of your curves, the slit in the side showing off where your stockings began, the neckline down far enough for him to see the lacy material of your bra once again.
“Thank you, Mr. Lee, Sir,” you smiled at him, your fingers touching his when you reached for the pile of papers. He felt like you shot him and as a result, he shot a huge load of cum into one of his tissues when he was back in his office.
Then, he met you at the coffee maker one time, witnessing you eat a fucking banana in one god damned bite. He couldn’t believe his eyes when you basically deepthroated the fruit all while looking directly into his eyes. He popped a boner right then and there.
All in all, it was safe to say the woman he had met in the interview was gone and he had absolutely no clue why or how he had let you fool him that day you met.
A part of him was angry at himself for letting it get this far, but he couldn’t deny that with every glimpse of your exposed ass and tits, with every encounter like the prints or the banana, he decided to give you one last chance to prove yourself. So far he had given you about 151 chances and you’d screwed up all of them.
Which is how he ended up calling you into his office.
Which is how you ended up sitting in front of his desk on one of the comfortable dark red armchairs, your legs crossed, yet another mini-skirt rising up far enough for Seokmin to at least imagine he can smell you. The shirt you were wearing was tight and cropped and your blazer was lazily hung over the back of the armchair.
“So, Y/N,” he began, shifting on his seat and trying very hard not to look at your tits, “do you have any idea why I called you in here?”
You shook your head no.
“No, sir, I don’t. Did I do something wrong?”
Sir. Oh good lord, Seokmin had to swallow down the pathetic moan he feels creeping up his throat.
“Well,” he cleared his throat, “I have noticed that you’ve been handing your work off to Chan a lot. Soonyoung as well, and while I understand you’re the newest employee, you have been here for almost five months now, Y/N, and I did expect you to already, you know, do at least a certain amount of work by yourself.”
Your eyes widened the more he spoke, your pout prominent once he finished.
“I’m sorry, Sir, truly! They always offered to help me and I just- I just didn’t want to disappoint them,” your voice strained, almost sounding like you were about to start crying. Seokmin felt his heart speed up.
“I understand that. But still - it must make sense to you that-,”
You jumping up from your chair made him stop mid sentence. He watched how you stalked over to him, your big eyes staring him down with something he couldn’t pinpoint even if he tried.
“It does make sense, Sir, and I want to apologize. I can do better, please don’t fire me.”
Seokmin was frozen in his chair, his seated figure looking up at you, almost panicking when he realized how close you were. If he raised his hand now, he could touch your thigh, could let it slip higher, could-
“Please, Mr. Lee, I’d do anything to keep this job.”
Which is how we get to… now.
His phone is still ringing on the desk, but he’s still nowhere near answering it. He is too focused on your mouth around his rock-hard cock, on the way you look up at him with watery eyes, on the way your hand is fondling his aching balls.
You dropping to your knees might have been the single most hottest thing he has ever seen before. Or well, maybe this right now tops it. Your tongue is flat against his shaft, dragging it along his veins, licking up all the precum that doesn’t directly land in your mouth. You suck on his tip, tease his slit, and moan when you take him all the way.
And Seokmin? He thinks he might have just entered heaven. His hands are itching to touch you, to push you down and fuck up, to lose control, but he doesn’t. Instead, he watches you with his mouth dropped, with his heart going at triple speed in his chest.
This is wrong. So, so wrong! He shouldn’t let you suck his cock as a way to keep your job, for god’s sake!
Once his tip crashes against the back of your throat, his mind goes blank, and all the thoughts from before disappear. They make room for new thoughts instead, thoughts that finally allow him to do what he wanted to from the second you had walked in on your first day.
The groan he lets out causes you to drip into your panties. And the way his hands now find the back of your head almost makes you come. Your eyes roll back for a second, before you bring them back to look at your boss.
Your extremely hot, perfect boss who took so fucking long to bring you into his office. Who could not take a hint at-fucking-all.
He begins to thrust up into your throat, letting out moans you wish you could record and replay as many times as you wished. His cock is big, just as big as you had hoped it to be. He’s veiny and perfect and his angry red tip is going to become your favorite thing to suck on. He tastes salty and sweet and bitter at the same time, melts on your tongue, and gets you to clench around absolutely nothing.
“Fuck,” he cries out when he picks up his speed, nails digging into your scalp as he continues his hard and fast thrusts, his cock beginning to twitch, his balls tightening dangerously. You need him, want him and almost demand him to come down your throat. To give you everything he has to offer. You press your tongue harder against his shaft, cheeks hollowed out, and you can feel his orgasm nearing with every passing second.
“I’m gonna- fu-fuck, I’m gonna c-come!” His cry is almost taking you over the edge too.
Seokmin sees red and white at the same time, opens his eyes, and stares down at you with his pupils blown and his cock finally emptying his seed inside your awaiting mouth. It almost breaks him, seeing how you swallow all of his cum like a pro, never breaking eye contact.
Breathless, Seokmin slowly gets down from his high, watching how you lick up his cock, your eyes twinkling with mischief, giving his tip a small kiss before finally leaning back, batting your eyelashes.
“So tasty, Mr. Lee. Now, should I get back to work?”
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
It kind of becomes a thing. At the beginning, Seokmin calls you into his office and you suck his cock, make him come, go back to work. All while still wearing your skimpy outfits to work and doing the minimum requirements to not be a complete waste of Seokmin’s money. Even though he figures with a cold shiver running down his spine, it seems like he’s paying you for something totally different now.
You’re enjoying this to the fullest, having a right out blast. Not just because you get to have Seokmin fuck your throat every other day, no, but because of how he looks at you. When you met him that first day at the interview, you already knew you wanted him. Knew he was going to be your next little project. So far you had never failed, and you sure as hell weren’t going to start now.
Working at the company for five months hadn’t exactly been your plan, though. Five months until he finally called you into his office. Five months of you choosing the most outrageous outfits, knowing every single man in that office wanted a taste of you, but only wanting one of them to actually act on it.
“Holy fucking hell, yeah, just- just like that,” he’s leaning against the wall behind his desk, you back on your knees, his cock hitting the soft inside of your cheek over and over again. He’s holding onto your hair with one hand while the other is pressed against the wall next to him. You lick and suck and fuck his cock against your cheek, drool running down your chin. You’re painfully wet, throbbing, and needing him to finally put his cock in you.
By now (3 weeks after your little blowjob-job started) you know his tells, can sense when he’s about to come. So, when you hear that first little noise, you let go of his cock with a plop and get up. Seokmin’s eyes open and he looks at you, visibly confused.
“Wha-,” he begins, but you just take a step forward and crush your lips against his, your hands grabbing his face.
For the first few seconds, Seokmin doesn’t really grasp the situation. You’re kissing him. He begins to melt, his hands somehow finding their way to your waist and when you lead him back, suddenly seated on his desk, his mind goes blank. You want him to fuck you. Want his cock to go inside that probably sweet tasting pussy of yours. He moans into your mouth.
“Take me, Mr. Lee, please, need your cock in me, need you to fuck me,” you whisper into his ear, biting his earlobe after and sighing in relief when he immediately moves to get your panties off of you.
“Fuck, fuck, you’re so hot.” He kisses you again, wild and uncontrolled, your panties now landing on the floor. You part your legs and grab his cock, bringing it to your awaiting entrance. There is no stopping the moan that escapes you once his tip slips in, your teeth sinking into his bottom lip harshly. He licks over your teeth, feels his mind fog up, no thoughts just you, you, you.
Then, he’s fully inside of you. Twitches, groans, kisses you harder. And fucks you like a god-damned beast.
The pace he sets is brutal and you’re lucky it’s after hours so no one is at the office anymore. They for sure would have heard the way the desk is bouncing against the floor with every thrust as well as your high pitched moans, and Seokmin’s low growls.
He fucks you like he owns you and you live for it. His cock drags along your walls, fills you like he was made for you, hits your sweet spot over and over again as if he’d done this thousand times before.
“Fuck, yes!” You basically scream, your body falling backward, only his strong hands holding you up as he speeds up once more.
“God, shit, how are you so tight, baby?” He moves to kiss your neck, licks over the salty skin, revels in your taste, in the way you shiver under his touch. You wanna scream and cry and mark his body with your mouth and nails - and so you begin to pull on the hem of his shirt, which he gladly helps you to take off completely.
He’s built like a god. Wide shoulders, bulked up arms, abs like they were painted on. You let your nails drag over his torso, finally sliding them to his strong, muscular back. When he pushes into you even more, his lips not getting enough of your own, you dig into his flesh and hear him hiss. Still, he doesn’t stop. If anything, he goes even harder. Fucks you til you scream his name while experiencing the most intense orgasm of your life, milking his cock of all he had, cum filling your pussy to the brim.
After that it spirals.
He fucks you every chance he gets. He is addicted to you and your pussy. Whenever he needs you, he gets to have you.
He bends you over his desk during work hours, drilling into your pussy like a mad man while pressing his hand over your mouth to make sure no one notices. He comes inside you and stuffs it all back in there with his fingers, pulls your panties back up and sends you out to continue your work day as before.
When lunch time comes around, you meet him in the building’s cafeteria and he drags you to the nearest supply closet to fuck your mouth and then your cunt, telling you what a good little slut you are and how well you always take him.
He sends you pictures of his hard cock after work, begging you to come to his place and bounce on him - but you never do. It’s a game for both of you. No fucking outside of work, no dates or anything like that. He gets to keep fucking you and you get to keep your job - easy as that.
Just that… you’re not really bad at your job. Seokmin is slow to figure that one out, you realize.
When your seventh month at the company begins, he is so focused on getting his cock inside of you, he doesn’t even notice you’ve stopped handing off your assignments to your colleagues. You’ve actually grown quite fond of this job and the team - and Seokmin for that matter. Not that you want to admit that to him, or confess that you’ve been playing this part of the dumb girl with the slutty outfits simply to get his attention.
“I love when you get to the office with no panties on, gods, you’re a dirty little whore.” Seokmin’s hands are on your ass while you bounce on his cock. He’s sitting on his desk chair, admiring the view of your tits as you fuck yourself on his cock. His dirty words make your pussy flutter around him and you whimper, your hands braced on his shoulders.
“Mhmm, only a whore for you, Mr. Lee,” you moan, biting down on your lip. There is no chance you’ll ever grow tired of seeing the way he looks at you when you fuck. His hooded eyes, his red lips dropped open. His cheeks flushed and his hair a mess.
You enjoy being on top, enjoy watching him watch you, setting your own pace until he can’t hold back any longer and wraps his arm around your waist, pushing you down so he can fuck into you at his desired speed.
“That’s right, you’re my whore, your pussy belongs only to me.” He squeezes your ass cheeks and moans when you clench around him again, thrusting his hips up once. You can tell he’s about to lose control, about to hold you down and fuck you senseless. There is nothing quite as hot as Seokmin losing his composure.
Just two days ago, you teased him by being flirty with Soonyoung all day. Seokmin had not thought of himself as possessive, but somehow when it came to you…
Safe to say, he fucked you against his office door two minutes after your last encounter with Soonyoung, simply shoving up your skirt and ripping off your panties, his cock deeply buried inside of you the next second. He fucked you so hard you couldn’t properly walk even the day after.
“Yes, Mr. Lee, my pussy belongs to you, I am yours, Sir.”
You bounce on his cock quicker now, throwing your head back when his hands move to your breasts, taking them both into his hands and cradling them. His fingers press onto your nipples, squeezing them between his thumb and forefinger, pinching and teasing you. With every touch of his, you feel yourself nearing your high.
“You’re so beautiful, always so good for me, isn’t that right?” He breathes out, licking his lips as his eyes are glued to the way your tits look between his hands.
He fucked them a few days ago, your tits. Had you kneeling between his legs, squeezing them together as he fucked his cock between them with the lube he now stored in his bottom drawer. They had felt amazing around him, but nothing compared to your cunt, to its warmth, to its tightness.
“Oh- oh! I’m- I’m gonna come, Mr. Lee! Please, can I come?!” Your orgasm is so close, is ready to crash down on you and when Seokmin moaned out a yes, you let it happen. Waves and waves of pleasure erupt in your body and make you fall forward against his chest, his hips now beginning to thrust up, his moans turning more and more desperate.
“Good girl, such a good girl, fuck- I’m gonna fill you up, yeah? Fill you up with my cum, breed you like my own personal whore, hm?”
Your nails dig into his skin desperately as he fucks you fast and hard, his right arm now around your waist, pressing you down while he uses you for his pleasure, crying out your name when he comes - white hot cum landing inside your spent pussy, painting it the colours of his affection for you.
Seokmin fucks both of you through your orgasms, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, kissing your lips passionately when his hips still. You kiss him back, arms wrapping around his neck, your high still present in your bones.
“You’re perfect,” Seokmin mumbles against your lips and you smile, kissing him again, fingers brushing through his hair.
For a while, you make-out just like that, him still safely buried inside of you, some bits of your combined releases dripping down onto his chair.
Only when Seokmin’s phone rings do the two of you part. You give his cheek a small kiss before climbing off his lap and looking for your underwear, all while you put your dress back into its place. Your boss watches you, wishes he could just do this all over again instead of answering his phone. Reluctantly, he takes the call and watches how you wave at him, panties back on and clothes and shoes back where they belong. He waves back, greeting the business partner on the other line.
And when you leave his office and close the door behind you, when none of your co-workers even pay you any mind, you realize that maybe you like to keep it this way for just a little while longer.
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steddiewithachance · 1 year ago
Text
I'm Here on Business
Wayne is a regular at the bookstore Steve works at and badgers Steve into going on a blind date with his kid.
For @extocancer Happy New Years!!! I hope you enjoy your presents ◡̈
***
It's a quiet night in the little bookstore on the corner of Brinks and Williams. Steve is sitting behind the check-out counter flicking the leaf of a potted pothos placed next to the register. Soft music plays from the radio behind him.
Steve likes taking the evening shifts at the shop just to see the place warmly lit up by all of the eclectic and ornate lamps that Amber, the owner, has collected. The store doesn't give him migraines from obnoxious fluorescent light, which has been an issue at previous jobs.
Ever since Robin moved out of their apartment for Grad school, it's been upsetting to be at home alone at night. Without her company, the couch feels longer. And without her unhinged apartment decor, the walls feel taller and colder. Consequently, Steve has taken on more work hours instead of being home.
Plus, he has kind of fallen in love with reading. It came as a shock to him that he could enjoy it as much as he does. It started when his all-female team of coworkers began ranting to each other about these romance novels they were all into. He felt a little left out and decided to give one of them a try. It turns out that reading was actually a really great coping mechanism for dealing with his temporary loss of Robin.
The nicest, and most surprising thing to come out of this job though, is probably Wayne. A one-time customer turned regular, turned tentative friend for Steve. He's got a caring, parental energy that Steve's own parents never had.
The guy looks like he'd have a gruff or standoffish personality. His face naturally rests in a frown and he's got receding grey hair. He wears a flannel every day without fail; he's got a million different colors of them and Steve has even made a game of predicting which one he'll be wearing when he comes in.
"Did ya guess right today, boy?" Wayne will ask.
"No," Steve often admits glumly. "The universe told me you'd be wearing your green and blue one."
So anyway, Wayne comes around a lot to make small talk. He often mentions how he misses his son, Eddie. He's so stiff with personal information about his kid, but one time he let it slip that Eddie was on tour with his band. Steve had a field day afterward colluding with Google to find out exactly who Wayne's son was.
Eddie Munson, lead singer and guitarist of rock group Corroded Coffin.
Steve hadn't heard of ‘em but they certainly have a following. He listened to some of their stuff, to give himself some context for the next time Wayne brought up Eddie's music. It was nice enough, the guy has a good voice.
Steve's been waiting for Wayne to come in tonight. He's later than usual and it would be ridiculous for Steve to worry about a man who probably just thinks of Steve as that one kid who works at the bookstore. He may not come in at all tonight, and that would be fine too. Steve's still holding out on him pulling up in his... yellow flannel.
Steve's about to cave and start the next book in the current series he's reading when the door jingles. Wayne pushes inside in his mother fucking yellow flannel.
"Yellow Flannel!" Steve exclaims. Wayne chuckles and drops a book on the counter followed by a receipt.
"You got me right today?" Wayne asks fondly.
"Yup. It's been a while. I was aching for a win." Steve starts returning Wayne's book for him without giving him slack this time. Wayne treats the store like a library and Steve doesn't have the heart to tell him it's not allowed.
"Was this book any good?" Steve throws Wayne's receipt back at him and starts moving around the counter to put it back on the shelf for some other historical fiction lover to purchase.
"It was just alright." Wayne follows behind him languidly, eyeing the rows of colorful book spines for something that catches his eye. "But actually I'm here on business tonight."
Steve leans on the shelf and waits impatiently for Wayne to tell him what sort of business he's on.
"I think you ought to go on a date with Eddie. I think you two'd compliment each other."
Well, that's... not what Steve was expecting to hear.
"That's business to you? You came here to set me up on a blind date with your famous kid? I think he's gonna be a tad underwhelmed by a bookstore employee, Wayne." Steve's not gonna lie, he's a little intrigued by the prospect of dating a musician. He read a romance novel about one, not that long ago. Concerts, greenroom intimacy, targeted lyrics: Steve could be into it, in theory.
And ultimately, Steve did see photos of Eddie on Google and he's attractive. He looks good holding a guitar.
"He's gonna be home for a while so I figured now's a good time. Just go on one date. He's a big softie, you'll like him." Wayne pulls a book off the shelf and squints to try and read the title. He holds it further from his eyes before giving up and pushing it back into its slot.
"What happens if he doesn't like me? Will you still come around?" Steve runs a nervous hand through his hair. It wouldn't be the end of the world if Wayne stopped showing up, but it would probably hurt a little. It might fan the flame of his fear of abandonment.
"Of course, unless you break his heart. I know where you work, young man." Wayne pats his shoulder good-naturedly.
"Okay old man, you need my number to hand off?"
***
A day later, when Steve feels his phone buzz against his thigh, his instincts already know who it is. His heart gives that anticipatory squeeze he often gets before a first date with someone he finds attractive.
The text reads:
Hi Steve, this is eddie. Wayne swears we're soulmates. Wanna get dinner on friday?
It's a funny text to receive out of nowhere. Steve doubts Wayne actually used that word, but he imagines that Eddie is probably getting more of an earful than Steve got about this whole blind date. He also wonders what kind of person calls their dad by their first name.
Hi Eddie. I'd love to get dinner on Fri and discuss our soulmate status. I'm pretty sure he expects us to be married by the end of the night. Should I bring my tux? Also do you have a time and place in mind?
The master of puppets (Wayne) suggested we go to Maggiano's, are you okay with Italian? 8 maybe??? Tux optional but I think I will not be wearing one.
Haha. That sounds good Eddie, it's nice to hear from you. I'll see you soon.
***
Steve has to ask Amber to change his shift for Friday to work in the morning instead of the evening.
"Steve has somewhere other than work to be on a Friday night? Unheard of!" She slaps her palms down on the book display she was laying out.
"I know. I'm surprised too." Steve fiddles with his lanyard and gives her a 'please say yes' smile. She sighs.
"Yeah, I'll cover you. You can take my morning slot."
"Thank you! I owe you, boss."
***
When Friday arrives, Steve has the nervous jitters. It's been about a year since his last date, it didn't go very well. He's flattered that Wayne thinks highly enough of him to set him up with his kid.
Steve picks up a few small gifts for Eddie on his way home from work. He always brings his first dates a little something. He likes to see the way their faces light up. He thinks maybe he should get Eddie something music-related. So he walks into a little music store he's never been in and asks for small gift ideas for guitarists. He walks out wearing a smile, and hoping Eddie digs what he bought him.
And he's all smiles and confidence until he pulls up to the restaurant at eight and realizes he didn't send a confirmation text this morning. That's like, a rule, right? What if Eddie doesn't show up?
Steve steps out of the car and is equally anxious and relieved to find him leaning artfully against the restaurant near the front door with his hands in his pockets.
His curls are haloed by the warm light spilling out of the restaurant window. He's wearing a dark button-down with the sleeves rolled up to reveal tattoos on his forearms. And yeah, okay, he's hot.
The fact that Steve's going on a date with someone sort of famous hasn't fully sunk in. He's not sure he needs the added nerves though. He approaches as casually as possible and smiles when Eddie looks over.
The man does a double-take when he sees Steve. His eyebrows shoot up and he pushes off against the wall to stand straighter.
"Hi, Eddie?" Steve steps up onto the curb with a little wave. Eddie gives him a thorough once over.
"Oh, damn. Hi." He pulls a hand out of his pocket to shake Steve's.
Eddie is pretty up close. He's got long eyelashes and a bridge of little freckles across his nose. Steve notices all the little details that the on-stage photos didn't capture. He wonders if Wayne described what he looked like to Eddie who was at an informational disadvantage.
"I don't know what I was expecting you to look like, but my uncle didn't mention you were model pretty." Eddie tucks one of his big curls behind his ear and then steps forward to open the door. Steve's face gets warm at being called "model pretty", but he's terrible at taking compliments. He tries to redirect the conversation.
"Your uncle?" Steve asks.
"Wayne? My uncle?" Eddie motions towards the open door and follows after Steve once he's inside.
"Oh. You know he tells people that you're his son?"
Eddie's face softens and he scratches at his cheek. "Oh. Yeah well, I basically am. Maybe I should start calling him dad, I don't know."
"We don't take walk-ins." The hostess of the restaurant announces, breaking up their small talk. Steve looks over to see a tall woman with a slicked-back ponytail mad-dogging them. She has a cold demeanor, she kills the mood with one look between them. Steve knows the look, he's sure Eddie does too.
"Good to know! I have a reservation, though." Eddie responds.
"What's the name?" The woman pulls her iPad closer to herself like a shield.
"Munson." Eddie glances at Steve nervously.
"Hm. I don't see it." She pretends, tapping around meaninglessly. Eddie is getting agitated and maybe embarrassed too. He's scratching at his arm, unsure of how to proceed. First dates are already so awkward, especially blind ones. And if there's one thing about Steve, it's that he's gonna try to lighten the mood.
"Don't you know who he is?" Steve asks offendedly. Eddie whips around to look at Steve with wide, panic-filled eyes. The hostess raises an eyebrow and looks more closely at Eddie. It makes Steve chuckle. "I'm just kidding, let's go get burgers or something." He grabs Eddie's hand and pulls him back out the door.
"Holy shit, you scared me. I didn't know you knew who I was." Eddie has a hand on his chest and a wild grin. "She definitely didn't."
"I was just messing around. She did not want to seat our gay date." Steve sticks his hands in his pockets and then remembers Eddie's gift. "Oh but hey! I got you something."
Steve pulls out a nice bar of chocolate and a little tin of black pearly guitar picks. He offers them to Eddie with an open palm.
"Oh, what? You didn't have to do that." Eddie grabs them eagerly and slides open the tin. "This is so nice! How'd you know I've been needing picks? Now I feel doubly bad about dinner falling through."
"Hey, if I'm honest, sit-down dinner dates kind of give me anxiety. Too much pressure to keep the conversation going." Steve pulls out his keys, "You like burgers?"
Eddie huffs dramatically. "My palette is far too sophisticated for greasy burgers, Steve. I'm a chicken nugget man, obviously."
"That makes sense. You look like one." Steve teases. Eddie pouts.
"I'm taking that as a compliment."
"If you want nuggets we can just walk down the street. Unless you want me to drive?" Steve points in the direction of the row of fast-food restaurants.
"Yeah, let's walk."
Steve slowly turns and starts walking, glancing invitingly over his shoulder.
"So you know me." Eddie rattles the tin of guitar picks and looks a little worried by the prospect that Steve is some sort of fan.
"Only through your uncle, really. And maybe a short Google search. Sue me." Steve holds up his hands guiltily.
"Oh yeah, Wayne's my marketing manager. I send him out to spread the good word."
"Well I don't know who you've been instructing him to market to, but he's spending all his time in my store making me read book summaries to him because he conveniently forgets his glasses every time he comes in." Steve deadpans. Eddie chuckles and shakes his head knowingly.
"Yeah, It's this new long-con form of marketing. We decided to go all in for just one new fan." Eddie's got these sweet little dimples on either cheek when he smiles.
"Kinda worked, I dunno. I'm charmed by the Munsons." Steve and Eddie are veering towards each other as they walk. They're set to collide like two little asteroids. When they do end up bumping shoulders, it's soft. They stay close after that.
Steve hears a truly horrible sound coming from a bar a few meters ahead of them.
"Oh shit! Karaoke bar!" Eddie exclaims and speeds over. Eddie stands in front of the fenced-off patio and looks in while someone butchers Guns N' Roses. He looks absolutely delighted.
"What, you want to go show off in front of these poor, tone-deaf drunkards?" Steve rests his arms on the little fence and leans forward. Eddie vehemently disagrees.
"God no, I just like hearing all the very talented Midwestern voices." Eddie wiggles his eyebrows to express his sarcasm. "In other words, I enjoy making fun of bad music. I'm only human."
They sit there and give each other pained looks at the bad voices for a few minutes until someone starts trying to drunkenly stumble over the verse to a Nicki Minaj song and then Eddie drags Steve away in anguish.
"Can't take it anymore, Steve. Spare me."
***
The two of them have a good rapport, Steve thinks as they sit on a curb and share a big box of chicken nuggets. Maybe Wayne was right. It's playful. He can see how Eddie and Wayne share a handful of mannerisms and a sense of humor.
"Let's intertwine our arms like newlyweds do when they drink champagne," Steve says with a ketchup-covered chicken nugget in his hand. He wraps an arm around Eddie's and then takes a bite. Eddie follows his lead and giggles.
"I didn't know they did that. I've never been to a wedding." Eddie swallows and reaches for his soda.
"What? Never?"
Eddie shakes his head and looks up at the night sky. It's too cloudy to see any stars, unfortunately.
"My tux is in the car, by the way, should things pan out tonight." Steve jokes.
"I think they're panning." Eddie winks and leans in slightly.
"Oh yeah? Have I lived up to Wayne's description of me?" Steve bats his eyelashes and gives Eddie a sweet little smile.
"You've exceeded it, sweetheart." Eddie picks up Steve's hand and presses a chaste kiss to the inside of his wrist. Steve's heart jumps. When Eddie pulls back, he doesn't pull back far.
"Do you ever kiss on a first date?" Eddie whispers and squeezes Steve's hand. He glances at Steve's lips.
"Mmm, I could be persuaded." Steve feels a heady rush at the fact that he has somehow won the interest of a successful musician who probably meets loads of people every day. Steve reaches forward and tugs at one of Eddie's loose curls. He twists it around his finger and looks up with big doe eyes.
The tension is cut from Eddie's body when Steve looks at him like that. The move has a pretty good success rate at this point. And it doesn't fail him tonight. Eddie rests a hand on the base of Steve's neck. He strokes his thumb back and forth against the hollow of Steve's collarbone and leans in slowly.
Eddie's warm lips press against his own gently, experimentally. Their lips make a sweet sound when the suction is broken and Eddie's immediately reseal against Steve like he's irresistible. It's been forever since Steve kissed anyone, especially anyone worth kissing. He forgot how sweet and floaty it feels.
The hand on Steve's collar slides up so it's lightly holding his neck, it feels quietly possessive. It makes Steve's face heat up. Eddie's free arm wraps around Steve's waist pulling him closer. He lets himself be pulled.
Eddie starts getting more confident and hums softly when Steve weaves a hand into his long hair.
Steve could keep this up for hours, he wants to. But as dark as it is, he doesn't love the idea of continuing this so out in the open. He pulls back with regret.
"Damn, how are you not already taken?" Eddie wipes at Steve's shiny lips with his thumb.
"How are you not already taken? You're the accomplished one." Steve counters, squeezing one of Eddie's knees.
Eddie gathers their trash around them and stuffs it into the paper bag. "Well, I'll be home for a while if you'd want to do this again sometime. I can take you to a nice restaurant next time, I promise." He stands to throw away the trash. "Damn, I don't want the night to be over..."
"It doesn't have to be, you're welcome at mine." Steve leans back on one of his hands and bats his eyelashes up at Eddie.
"My New Year's resolution was to not do first date hookups, though."
"We don't have to, just come hang out." Steve holds an arm out to be pulled up to his feet from where he’s still sitting on the curb.
"Oh, yeah okay. You want me to?" Eddie pulls him to his feet with more force than necessary. It sends them both stumbling and giggling.
"Obviously I want you to."
***
The walk back to the restaurant is much faster than it was at the start of the night. They regretfully have to split at the parking lot, each having their own ride.
"Wait, call me so we can still talk on the way there." Eddie requests before jogging off to Wayne's truck. There really isn't much need to talk on the phone since Steve lives so close, but it's kind of cute that he wants to. Steve hits the call button on Eddie's contact.
"Hello, to whom am I speaking?" Eddie asks in a formal, over-the-top voice.
"This is Steve Harrington. I'm contacting you regarding your car's extended warranty." Steve backs out of his spot and waits for Eddie to do the same before driving out of the parking lot.
"Oh wow, what a coincidence. I was just wondering if my car had an extended warranty." Eddie always plays along, he digs into all of Steve's jokes and finds his own spot to grow there.
Steve drives slower than he normally would so that he doesn't get separated from his date. Eddie doesn't appreciate the sentiment.
"You drive like a grandpa. Has anyone ever told you that?" Eddie laughs and honks his horn. Steve hears it both over the phone and from his window.
"I'm only driving slow so we don't get separated, asshole."
"There's barely anyone on the road tonight to separate us, but it's fine, Steve. I value your safety. Drive at your comfortable geriatric pace."
When they pull up to a red light, Eddie instructs Steve to roll down his window so they can stick their hands out and play Rock Paper Scissors. Steve is so distracted watching Eddie's hand through his side mirror that he misses when the light turns.
"It's green, honey," Eddie alerts him softly through the phone, and Steve apologizes.
He's smiling real big the whole way there and when Steve eventually gets out of the car, Eddie comes up and grabs him from behind.
Eddie plants a few eager kisses on the side of Steve's neck. "You're fun, Steve."
"I'll show you real fun some other time." He jokes and pulls Eddie towards his place.
As soon as Steve opens the door to his apartment, he feels self-conscious about how dull it looks inside. Eddie looks around quietly. His eye catches on a picture of Steve and Robin.
"That's my best friend, Robin." Steve clarifies, just in case Eddie reads it wrong like dates have in the past.
Eddie smiles and pulls Steve back against his chest. "She looks nice."
"Looks can be deceiving." Steve laments which has Eddie chuckling into his shoulder. Eddie rubs at Steve's tummy.
What Steve really wants, what he's been desperate for, for months and months is human touch. He just wants to cuddle so badly. And Eddie doesn't seem the type to cuddle, but looks can be deceiving, so Steve's gonna ask anyway.
"Wanna cuddle and watch trash reality TV?" Steve's shoulders rise to his ears, it's a defensive gesture and he's expecting to be rejected. Eddie looks slightly amused by his offer, but he nods.
***
"So you liked him alright?" Wayne asks smugly patting the counter. Steve nervously watches the back of the store where Amber is reorganizing. Steve shouldn't be having a conversation like this at work while she's around.
"Yes, Wayne." Steve rolls his eyes. "Your nephew is lovely."
"I told him he should come here with me next time. Maybe we'll both visit ya." Wayne looks happy. The corners of his default frown have been pulled upwards by the return of his nephew. He's a good man. Steve thinks if his kid was only home a few weeks he'd want to hoard all of his attention, surely not set him up on dates.
And that's the thing about Wayne, it seems like he puts the people he cares about first. Steve wonders if Wayne is all that lonely when Eddie's gone, or if he just comes into the store so often because he knows Steve is.
"I'd love that." Steve hopes things work out with the Munsons.
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ambrosiagoldfish · 10 months ago
Note
Adam x third spouse part 3 I’m begging pookie ❤️
like a time skip to when Charlie appeared and proposed the idea
Benifit of the doubt Pt.4
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Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader
Warnings: General Adam TW’s, a little bit sad for a moment but it’s ok. Gn! Reader! honestly that’s about it I think?? Wow this is the first time it’s been this short in this series.
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.
Request Box: Open
Word Count: 4617~
A/n: So… it’s been almost 2 months… whoops. In all seriousness though I’m sorry it’s been so long. I’ve just not been in the mood to write and a lot of stuff has been happening (which is finally over) and I’m glad I could finally post this. I was also, if I’m honest, nervous to post this, cause I’m not sure if everyone’s ready for the direction of the story. But I have made it clear that I wanted to do a time skip to the show at somepoint and decided to do it now! If you enjoy this, please let me know cause I’m really nervous about (Not my words of affirmation love language coming out-) ALSO to the requester, I know you said part 3, but I used it for part 4. I got your request as I was making part 3 soooo my bad. Hope you don’t mind tho <3 this will be the last part before the angsty finale (and maybe an epilogue)
Reblogs are always appreciated!
Anyways this was NOT beta read unfortunately, I tried to get as many errors out during the writing process so hopefully it’s fine. Also, there’s probably some words I might have wanted to italicize or make bold that aren’t, but I’m too tired to care honestly.
Tags: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily @hcneyiced @v3r41ynn @ghostdoodlen @nxptvne-13 @ximenavc-che @edgyfluff @ericityyy @diffidentphantom @faimmm @slasher-whore69 @1-randomized @ozzersauce @fanlovedlt @alientee (if I forgot someone or you want to be added just tell me !!)
Days turned to weeks, to months, to years. Until eventually an eon had passed. An entirety filled to the brim with an indescribable happiness and love, threatening to spill over at any given moment. You loved Adam and Adam loved you.
To say it was all happiness would be a lie, there were some moments of sadness and pain, but all relationships were like that, even ones that lasted for eternity. You both always bounced back, apologize and moved on with a stronger bond than before. And you loved every second of it.
A lot has changed in these last few eons. Adam formed a band and is now the most popular guitarist in all of heaven. You both made new friends, some got into heaven while others were made there. Emily was one of these people to you, she looked up to you for being older than her. You’ve existed for almost all of human existence so, of course she’d look up to you.
Adam had also made new friends, his band members, some officials in heaven, but someone he’s grown close to recently was Lute. You're really happy about his friendship with Lute. She seems like a strong and loyal friend, someone that can keep him grounded while still encouraging him to be more himself. Overall, you really liked her.
How they became friends though is something… less tasteful for you. All the way back when Heaven and Hell had their first meeting on what to do with the surplus of sinners in hell causing an uprising. Neither side came to an agreement in the end, you do feel partially to blame for that, but you still stand by what you did.
You never returned to any of the follow up meetings
But Adam did, surprisingly to you. In the end, you were called to talk with Sera and Adam. You were told of the agreement between Heaven and Hell, about the yearly “cleanse” that Adam and his “Exorcists” would have to commit. At first you were shocked, sure, you didn’t have the best experience with sinners and especially with the rulers of hell, but was death really necessary? You didn’t know what to say, and Adam clearly saw this.
“Babe, you alright?” He puts his hand on your shoulder rubbing his thumb in circles. You place your hand on his.
“Yeah it’s just a lot to take in. Are we sure it has to be done… that way?”
Sera looked down in pain “they’re… uprising and are becoming to much of a threat to heaven.”
You sighed as Adam took you in his arms. Adam was fully aware that you don’t share the same sentiment towards sinners as he does. His hatred towards the unholy souls down in hell was brought about by events that you simply cannot understand. Which he is thankful for, he never would want you to experience what he did.
“If there isn’t anything else we can do then… I guess we have no choice. But I don’t want to… kill anyone, even if they are sinners.”
Adam holds you closer “You won’t have to,” you smile at him, the now familiar flickering of his LED mask meeting your gaze before softly frown “you ok?”
You nod, “yeah, just…I wish there was another way.”
-
That was it. Adam would take his exorcists down to hell to kill as many sinners as they could each year. Adam knew you didn’t want him to talk about it , he kept it as separate as he could from your life. You did have to attend meetings regarding it, as one of the very few people to know about it, that was your duty.
You were fine with having that part of the job. You weren't sure if you could kill someone, sinner or not. So, for the countless years to follow, you played your part with every new extermination, attending meetings to deal with the repercussions of each cleanse.
Adam would also have to attend the occasional meeting. Which is exactly what today was. Sera had called you both in to talk.
“Thank you both for coming. I have to inform you that you will be attending a meeting tomorrow.”
Adam groaned “What! Again? This is like the 4th fuckin’ one this week! Ugh fine! Where is it this time? halo city? Cherub towne” Adam’s voice mocked the locations you’ve both been sent to countless times with a high pitched voice. Even you have to admit that the meetings could drag a bit.
Sera's face turned into a slight grimace as she looks away from you both, she sighs and continues “The meeting will be in… hell.”
“What!” Both your voices raise in shock
“Sera, you know I don’t want to go down there again!”
“Why can’t you just send the other fucking dipshits who know about-“ Adam crossed his arms defiantly
“Stop,” Sera raises her hand toward you both “no one wants to go there, and I know you both especially don’t.” She pauses “But you both are the only available angels who know of the cleanse that aren't busy. Please… I understand your disdain but heaven’s business comes first.”
“Who are we even gonna be talking to -Wait a damn minute- Don’t fucking tell me we have to talk to him.”
“I'm sorry…” You all sat in silence for a moment before Sera begins to speak again, “But you both won’t have to worry about physically being there, we have prepared holograms for you, so neither of you would be in any danger.”
“I'll have an Angel escort you to the ‘meeting’ room tomorrow, please, get some rest. I’m sure you both have had a long day.”
With that, you and Adam went home, you were definitely not feeling well about the meeting, but the fact you wouldn’t actually be there calms your nerves a bit. You had to be a little honest with yourself, hell wasn’t really the issue for you, it was more so the people. Lucifer for one, that made you feel uneasy.
The next morning, you and Adam got ready, you had to motivate him a little. He was clearly not excited for this meeting like you. The entire way there he held you close, even though nothing could have hurt you it made him feel better knowing how close you were.
On the way there, you also got Adam some ribs, his favorite. You thought it would help his nerves a bit. Turns out, Lute was the one Sera assigned to escort you both there. That also made you both a little calmer knowing a mutual friend would be there.
The three of you waited in the ‘meeting’ room for a while, about an hour. At first you thought the meeting might had been canceled or moved and you just weren't told. But then, Lute walked up to you both.
“Sir! The Seraphim has told me to inform you that there’s been a change in plans!”
“What? The fucks that mean?” Adam said stuffing a rib into his LED mouth
“Lucifer won’t be attending the meeting, instead… his Daughter will be here in his stead.” Lute’s mask showed a continuous frown and stern expression as she spoke.
“Daughter?” Your voice shook a little. This was news to you, as long as you’ve existed you had never heard he had a daughter while in hell. You look over to Adam to see His LED eyes were wide in shock but his mask turned into a smile as he sighed.
“Phew boy, we sure dodged a big ass bullet, huh Sweetcheeks?” He laughed as his arm pulled you closer. The whole thing caused you to join in. Suddenly your nerves felt a lot better than before.
“When should she be arriving, Lute?”
“Within the hour.”
-
Adam scarfed down another plate of ribs as you all wait for the “princess of hell” to arrive. The entire time you just had to wonder what kind of person she’d be. The daughter of Lucifer and Lilith. The more you thought about it, the more bizarre it seemed.
But suddenly your thoughts were interrupted by the sliding doors opening to the meeting room and a girl steps in, asking if anyone is there.
“She can’t see us?”
“Yeah, Sera gave me a long ass lector on how this stuff works before we got here. Let’s see here…” Adam pushes a button causing a click to sound out as he says “Sup!”
The girl jumps back and falls to the floor, shocked by Adam’s sudden appearance in the room. She introduces herself as Charlie. Adam offers her to shake his hand, only for it to go through.
“Ha! I fuckin’ got you! Did you fucking see that? Good shit.”
You let out a slight laugh, as you sit and watch the meeting happen. Well, you say “meeting” but nothing about it seemed very professional. Adam for the last hour (you honestly wasn’t sure at this point) had been talking about the most random of things.
You or Lute occasionally shakening your head yes or no while listening to him, while Charlie seemed quite tired already. Not that you could blame her, people who weren’t used to Adam’s banter definitely weren’t cut out for it. But You love every word that comes out of his mouth.
Eventually Adam decides that it’s time to get into what you all came here for. Pulling out a bunch of papers, Charlie begins explaining her solution to hell’s overpopulation. You were only really half listening at first, at least before she mentioned that her solution could stop the extermination which peaked your interest.
She explains her “Hazbin Hotel” and its purpose to rehabilitate sinners, you wanted to hear more of it but Adam cut her off.
The meeting didn’t really go that well, At least for Charlie. But the whole thing left quite the impression on you. The idea of ending the extermination was stuck in your head for so long, and now you had someone who had an alternative.
“Adam, are you sure that it couldn’t have worked?”
Adam looks at you in surprise “What? Do you think that shitshow could have actually worked?” He laughed as he placed a hand on your back. “Don’t even pay it any mind, alright Babe?”
“I know, it’s just… you know I don't like the extermination. So another way to lessen the population of hell should at least be looked into.” Your voice was soft enough to barely hear.
Adam’s gaze softened but he didn’t say another word, only wrapping his wing around you pulling you closer. You lean towards him, snuggling into his soft robe. No matter how much you wanted to ignore it, you couldn’t. You needed to do something, anything.
So that night, after Adam fell asleep, you asked to talk with Sera. Leaving a note for Adam saying you went to buy something just in case he woke up.
“What is troubling you?” Sera’s voice was clear and concise.
You looked toward the ground, your nerves feeling tighter than ever, as you struggled with how to put your words together. “You're aware of all that happened in the meeting with Lucifer’s Daughter, right?”
Sera nods her head “of course, all meetings are documented about as they happen.” She tilts her head slightly “What about it?”
“Well!” You steel yourself before continuing “I would like permission to observe Charlie Morningstar’s ‘Hazbin Hotel’”
Sera’s eyes widen, breaking her calm demeanor before giving a firm “No”
“But-“
“It’s too dangerous for you to be there, Adam wouldn’t want that anyways”
“He would listen if it was an order from you!” Your eyes felt watery but you continued “Please Sera… I know you don’t want the extermination to continue. Just let me do this!”
Sera looked away from you, her feelings evident on her face, any mask now down. ‘Just a little more’ you thought
“Sera, I promise you, I’ll be careful! We don’t even have to fully support them yet, just let me observe them. It would be devastating if so many souls parish if we failed to seek all options!” You beg
Sera sighed, shakingly “…I’ll see what I can do.”
Your eyes gleamed up at the tall woman “Sera, thank you, thank you!” You wanted to hug her but out of courtesy, you advised against it.
Sera tells you that she can’t guarantee anything but she will try as she sends you home to rest.
-
A few days past after that and you haven’t heard anything from Sera. It was a little worrying and felt like a bad sign to you. That was, until you were informed by Sera that your request was accepted!
“But.” Sera stops you before you can celebrate “You're only there to keep track of the progress and to make sure nothing is happening under our noses” You nod your head in understanding
“Also…” she pauses “If anything involving this hotel happens, you will have to take full responsibility, understood?”
You nod again “yes I understand. Have you… told Adam yet?”
She shakes her head
“Ok… can you… not tell him it was my idea, please. I don’t think he’d agree if he knew.”
Sera sighs before nodding her head “Very well, I’ll tell him after you leave”
“Thank you.”
-
You return home, when you got back Adam was already gone, Sera must have already called him to the office. You dreaded when he got back. You didn’t want to see him upset, it hurt you to know how worried he was for you.
A few hours later, Adam comes through the door in a panic. He stomps up to you and pulls you into a warm and intense embrace.
“Don’t go down there. I need you here with me” his voice hitches as his wings wrap around you both, curling you both into a warm and feathery ball.
“Adam…” you paused, was this really the best thing to do? No, It had to be. If this goes well, not only will the extermination stop but Adam wouldn’t have to go down to hell ever again.
“Adam, you know I can’t go against Sera’s orders.” You kiss his cheek “and I won’t be gone forever, I’m only supposed to be there till the next cleanse. Not to mention, I’ll always come back to see you.”
Adam grumbled a little “I know, I just… don’t like you being in the same place that bastard is, and in his brat’s stupid hotel! ”
You laugh softly “Adam…” grabbing his hand, you put yours in it, showing off the gold ring on your finger “I’ll never forget my promise. You know that, right?”
Adam looks at the ring, the gold wrapped around your finger with a perfectly snug fit. Everytime he looked at it was just a reminder of your love for him. That promise was something he could never forget. He slowly raises your hand to his LED mask, kissing the back of it. “Of course not.”
“Good. I promise I’ll be fine, ok?”
He nods. Hand in hand, you slowly lead you both to the bed. The both of you lay next to each other, your bodies linked together like knots. You slwoly remove his helmet from his head, laying it on the nightstand.
Your hands move up his body before landing on his face, cupping his cheeks before pulling him to a kiss before snuggling into his chest.
-
Finally it was Time for you to leave. Sera allowed you to create portals back to heaven in case anything happened and you were in need of assistance. Adam walked you to the front gate.
“Ok, do you have everything? You didn’t forget that fucking angelic dagger I had Lute get for you right-“
You shush him “Adam, I told you I’ll be fine!”
He’s sighs “Damn it- I know that but just make sure to text me while your there ok-
You kiss him deeply “Adam. I know, you’ve told me a hundred times.” You smile as you cup his face “I love you”
He sighs “Love you too Sweetcheeks”
With one final kiss, you give Adam a tight hug before waving goodbye as you went through the flaming portal. As you went through, you take a second to look at your surroundings. In front of you was a tall building. You take a few steps back to see LED lights of a sign flashing the words ‘Hazbin Hotel’
You let out a sigh of relief. You had been a tad bit worried you’d spawn somewhere random and you’d have to find the building yourself. But it seems heaven at least spared you of that.
The red skies of hell were quite different from the pristine blue ones of heaven. Even though you just got here, you could already hear the sounds of screams and explosions in the distance. How welcoming.
You steel yourself and with three hard knocks to the door, you wait for someone to open it. Muffled Scurrying sounds of footsteps approach the door before it creaks open revealing the young blond woman in the doorframe, Charlie Morningstar.
“Hi! I’m-“
The door is slammed shut, Before opening again
“Be not afraid-“
It shuts again…
Well, this may be a bit harder than you initially anticipated. You go to knock again only for it to open once more. This time, the door doesn’t close again, instead the girl mutters a quick “Hi” before going quiet.
“Hello! I didn’t mean to scare you!” You give a small laugh before continuing “I believe we met a couple days ago?” You bring your hand towards her for a shake, to which she reciprocates.
“During the meeting with.. Adam? Right?” She grimaced when she mentioned Adam, which you decided to ignore, you simply smiled and nodded. ”but I don’t believe I caught your name?”
You tell her about yourself, about how your there to stay and monitor any progress the hotel may have. You made sure to pronounce ‘may.’ While you were hoping for this idea to show some kind of positive results, even you weren’t sure if it’d would work.
“Charlie? who’s at the door- WhatHolyShit-“ a woman with a red X over her eye suddenly shouts in surprise. You look over at her, She looked very familiar…
“Wait, you are-“
“Vaggie! Charlie’s sinner girlfriend! And you are?!” The woman known as Vaggie, highlighted the word sinner while performing a “be quiet” gesture with her hand. Your eyes widen a little at the ex-Angel in front of you but you simply smile a nod “I’m Y/n, I don’t believe we’ve met, yes?”
Look, lying is the last thing you’d want to do as a citizen of heaven but you figured that it would be fine if it was to protect someone. Vaggie nodded, her face scrunched up in a tense look.
“You feeling ok Vaggie? You’re looking a little… red?”
“I’m fine! *ahem*, Hun, how about you give them a tour of the hotel.”
Charlie gasped “Yes that's perfect, you may as well get acquainted with everyone if you’re going to be here more often!”
Charlie ran off, telling you “this way! This way!” Over and over. Before you went to follow her, you leaned toward Vaggie and said a quick “Relax, I won’t tell anyone.”
She lets out a sigh before muttering “Thank you”
You both follow Charlie as she shows you the various rooms in the hotel before leading you back to the hotel’s lobby and lounge area.
“Hey! Hello everyone!” Charlie’s voice picked up a little “I’d like to introduce you to our uh… new staff member?” You nod in agreement with the title. The room in front of you was shrouded in looks of both horror and amazement.
“What the hell’s an angel doin’ here?” A lanky spider demon spoke up first
“It’sss an ambush! seek Cover!!” The Snake demon shouted, seemingly grabbing an army helmet from thin air before taking a deep dive behind the couch.
“No Pentious-” She sighs “they’re here to monitor the hotel! Heaven sent them to scout any potential progress the hotel will have”
“It’s nice to meet you all” you look at the people in front of you, to say it was a colorful cast would be an understatement.
“These two are our current tenants of the hotel! Angel dust and Sir Pentious!”
The snake slithered slowly from behind the couch up to you, while the Spider demon remained rested on the couch
“Oh… *ahem* Excuse me dear! I am Sir. Pentious! Formally known as ‘the Architect of destruction’!” He laughs, a slight hiss sounding in his voice.
He offers a handshake which you accept. To which you immediately regret. ‘ Slimey’ you thought, before wiping your, now wet hand on your clothes.
The spider demon, who you now know as Angel Dust, just gives a wave with one of his 4 arms.
“And-“ Charlie extends the word as she quickly walk to a bar by the entrance “this is the recreational area, run by our Bartender, Husk!”
The winged bartender seemed entirely uninterested in your presence or even Charlie’s. The most you got was a small glance before he takes a swig of his alcohol and walks off.
“He’s not the most… social guy in hell” she awkwardly laughs before moving on to the next person. “And this is Nifty, our one and only maid at the hotel! Nifty say hi.”
The short woman scurried moved around you, her eye quickly looking at every every nook and cranny of you as she moved. She made numerous attempts to touch and grab various things on you, your clothes, wings, and eventually she tried to climb up you to get to your halo. That’s when you finally grabbed her in place “you're a… fast one, huh? Nice to meet you!”
“And last but not least! This is Alastor, the hotel’s executive producer and our first -and only- overlord sponsor!”
Immediately, you could tell there was something off about Alastor. The entire aura he gave off was as if he was restraining something completely and utterly ungodly. The static that surrounded him was just one of many whispers you could hear from his soul.
“Hello! It’s quite a pleasure to meet someone of your… holy status!” He offers a hand to which you, hesitantly, shake. “And what do we owe the pleasure for your service?”
“They’re going to be here to keep track of the progress of the hotel…” Charlie paused “you know I’m starting to sound like a broken record- here, it’s late, how about we all get some sleep and we can talk about it in the morning!”
“Fine by me, I am waaay too sober to be having social interaction this late” Angel picks himself up and stretches “I’m gonna hit the hay”
“Here I’ll show you to your room!” Charlie smiles “We -obviously- didn’t have time to make your own so I hope you don’t mind using one of the guest rooms” she laughs
She and Vaggie walks you to your new room before leaving you be, The room was nothing more than just your average hotel room. Of course it did have its differences, a multitude of… eyes seem to be on the wall, staring at you. Well, that’s not the least alarming.
You place your stuff down and begin unpacking, you mostly just brought the basics. Clothes, hygiene stuff, your phone, and, most importantly, a framed photo of Adam.
You sat the photo on your nightstand, angling it just right so that it would always be visible to you. As you do so, you think about the memory the photo brings, you took it on one of the first dates you went on with Adam. It was a relatively tame date, you and Adam, having a picnic by a lake at night. You brought candles so you both weren’t completely in the dark, and you just loved the way he looked, his golden eyes watching the water. The dim candle light illuminating his face with a warm golden shade. Adam hates photos of him with his mask off but… You just had to keep that moment in time forever.
*Ding* *Ding* *Ding*
Speak of the- well, you know the rest. The bright light from the phone comes with the notification sound displaying Adam in bold letters. You smile as you read his messages.
Dixkmaster69
Heyy Sweetcheeks, it’s been a bit since you left
You there??
Fucking answer
You let out a small laugh at Adam’s barrage of messages. He’s not used to you being away from him for more than a day, huh? Not that you could blame him, this is honestly nothing compared to how you feel each year he has to do the extermination.
Sweetcheeks
Hey love
Everything’s fine, I’m ok.
Aside from not having you with me :’(
Dixkmaster69
Fucking finally
You know you don’t have to do this
If I bitch enough to Sera I can get you back by tomorrow
Sweetcheeks
Please don’t, Sera already has enough on her plate.
I promise I’m going to be fine
I’ll be back before you know it.
Dixkmaster69
I know
This shit just worries me
Gonna miss hearing your sexy ass voice at night too ;)
You blush at the message before sighing. Whenever you or Adam approached a topic that made him uncomfortable, he would always try to change the subject to something that made him feel better. You knew why, Adam’s someone who rarely talked about his feelings, even after all these eons together that was something he hadn’t changed. You knew exactly what he needed, even if he didn’t explicitly tell you.
Sweetcheeks
I already miss yours too <3
Do you want to help me fall asleep with that heavenly voice of yours on the phone?
Dixkmaster69
Whatever you want Sweetcheeks <3
You smile when, almost immediately, Adam begins calling your phone. You click the lights off before You make your way in your new bed, not even bothering to change out of the clothes you’ve been wearing. You grab the cover and pull it over you and tapping the answer button.
“Sup”
You yawn “Hey handsome, I missed your voice”
You hear his voice hitch before he caused on “Of course you did, no one has a better voice than the dick master. But uh, yours is a close second”
You’re let out a tired giggle, “such a charmer, you. How’s your day been huh?”
“Oh! don’t even get me started on that- Lute took me to get some ribs to ‘calm my nerves’ or some shit and they had me, ME, wait in line for like 15 minutes! The fucking audacity!”
You smile to yourself as Adam tells you about his day, the sound of his voice was like a sweet lullaby to your ears and you couldn’t get enough of it. But eventually…
“And then when I got home, I couldn’t find my damn charger and it took me like 40 fuckin’ minutes to realize it was under our bed, do you have any idea of how it keeps getting there?” He waits for you to respond only to be met with silence. “Uh bitch, I’m talking to you.”
More silence… well no, actually if Adam focused on listening, he could hear the faint sound of your snoring from the phone. Adam sighs,”Long day, huh?”
Adam lays back in your shared bed, getting comfortable. He sets the phone beside him, plugging it in while keeping it on speaker. He yawns, “Goodnight Sweetheart, can’t wait to see you again”
Slowly, the soft sounds of both yours and Adam’s snores filled each others rooms, a distant, but intimate connection. Even in slumber, you couldn’t stop thinking of your handsome and caring soulmate.
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Text
We meet again | In-ho x Fem!Reader | PT4
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Summary: It was only one night for fun, you never thought you would see him again. Even less in a place like this one.
P1 P2 P3 END
Warnings: S2 Spoilers - Canon violence - Pregnant!Reader - Non canon background for In-ho - Use of (Y/N) - Heavy Angst - Protective!In-ho - Panic!Reader - grammar mistakes -
"You must be joking" Were your first words after listening to Gi-hun's plan. "Do you even know how many guards are out there? Or how prepared they are?"
After another round of voting things had ended in a tie. Not much time after it a fight had occurred inside the men bathroom. Gi-hun had said how most likely the ones who voted circles would attack the X group during lights out.
And while it scared you to no end, specially for your dear baby, his plan was still something your mind could not get. If they had all the power to make so many peopel vanish and also kill them off like it was nothing...what chance did they had against them?
In-ho who knew very well how much that plan would fail (even if he was not inside the games) was only worried over you.
Since the talk during the last game he had got protective. He was by your side, making you be behind him and having a protective grio on your arm or hand.
The rest did notice but no one commented a thing, besides it would only make the athmosphere uncomfortable.
Jun-hee was the only one who had asked you during one go to the restroom. She was not judging, her own baby's father was here after all. She was just curious on what was the story of you two. Why you two seemed to be so apart at the start and now were close.
"Its almost a story you would read on a book" Jun-hee said as you cleaned your hands and laughted.
"Barely, it all started as a one night thing. Then I was so stupid that I forgot the pill. We did not see each other for months and now...we are here"
"But he cares. He cares so much. Really I can see it on how he looks at you!! Even before the migle game"
"Yeah...I do care for him too. I want us to get out and try to live together or be a real couple..."
"Well, we may be able to leave but the plan of Seong..."
"Its crazy. We wont make it. I- I cant even help them"
"I cant either, only thing I can do its hide once the lights go off" Jun-hee tried to make you feel better. "Its better like that, we need to think not only for ourselfs but our babys"
"You are right, but Jun-ho wants to help..."
"You are worried for him" She indicated "Thats cute"
"And a pain, I wish he would have said no to that plan"
"Maybe he is thinking in you and the baby. Maybe he wants to leave really badly and sees no other way out"
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~
Once you two returned the place seemed to be under lots of pressure. There was a tension, how some circles would look at Xs and back. It was unnerving and maybe even worse than the games themselfs.
"Can we talk?" In-ho came towards you "Alone" He added seeing Jun-hee besides you who nodded and went with the rest of the group.
In-ho moved so you two were away from everybody.
"Its this about Gi-hun's plan?" You asked and he nodded.
"Yes, it is. You should hide when the lights go off and not participate when we go for the guns" In-ho said in a serious tone. Even if the guards would never (if they liked their lives) put a hand on you unless he said so, the rest of the players were out of his control.
"I know, I cant do much anyways" You responded touching your belly "Why did you end saying yes ? We could win tomorrow ...."
In-ho took a deep breath. The reason were multiple ones. On one part this would be a good chance to get himself and you out from the games. If he did things right. And on other part he did not want to risk on tomorrow voting. Even if during the night Xs fought and lived nothing did for centrain said they would not vote circle next day.
"I believe in him" He lied "I understand its a dangerous move on our part, but I dont trust the others, not for tonight and not for tomorrow's voting"
You wanted to tell him to back off from it. You did not want to lose him in case the plan went wrong. But his next words shattered you.
"And I want you two out of here. Another game would cause you much stress, its not good for you our the baby...the little one has been strong so far but there is nothing like being safe and out of here"
When he said "little one" there was a small soft smile on his face, you could see how his hands wanted to reach and caress your belly once more but he held himself back.
"Hide well, I mean it. I dont trust any of them"
"I will, please dont worry about me"
Impossible. You and that baby are the most precious things to me right now.
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○
In-ho insisted on staying besides you when the lights went off. Just in case.
He had one hand wrapped around your waist and had pushed your head into his chest. He told you to close your eyes and ignore all of it, that if someone even dared to come near the bed where you two were hide then he would kill them. Of course he did not use these exact words in order not to scare you.
The screams of pain were terrible to hear, In-ho tried to shh you and tell you that it would soon end while also keeping a watchful eye.
Finally it was time, he kissed your cheeck on impulse and told you to not intervene. He went out just as the guards started to get inside the room.
You saw one coming towards him, but before it could even check the infamous chip inside his neck (as Gi-hun had explained earlier) he took them with force and in a clean move ended their life while also taking their gun.
The next was a small exchange of bullets and screams, the guards were finally leaving but one was left behind. Even if you saw them as nothing as monsters...their seemed scared.
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~
"Stay here, no matter what you hear. Stay here with Jun-hee. It will be safe" He assured you, like he knew more than what he was letting out.
"But what if you- what if something happens to you?" You asked him with tears already falling, not knowing that he would be safe.
It broke his heart to see you like that. So worried over him when there was nothing to be worried about. But he could not tell you, not here.
"Shh, I will be fine. I promise you" After a small pause he added "I promise both of you" His hand resting on your belly.
"In-ho, its time" Gi-hun said softly when he saw the exchange, part of him felt bad for interrumping the sweet moment. And was feeling guilty already, he knew he could not let In-ho die.
"Yes, on it"
"I love you, both of you" In-ho softly said finally leaving.
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○
The gunshots would be hear from the room, you flinched everytime, worried that one of these was mean for In-ho.
"Breath (Y/N)" Jun-hee reminded you when she saw you starting to panic. "They will be alright"
"Jun-hee...dont tell me things you can guarnate" You whispered hugging her and she just held you there. It was true, she could not be sure if they would make it.
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~
In his mind this part was supposed to be easy, trick Gi-hun into thinking that he and the rest had died. But it would mean making you believe that he was dead as well.
He pressed his lips on a thin line, worried over you and the baby. His little one. The only good thing was that he would be able to pull you out from the games but-
But you would have to believe that he was indeed dead.
"Take player 344 from the room, bring her to my room and call the Doctor too. Do not harm her" He ordered to one of his most trusted square guards.
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~
Once more the guards entered, pulling everybody to their knees and demanding them to be under control.
You started to tremble not because of the imposed figure of a saqueare guard over you, saying something about you having to go back with them. Your mind was working on In-ho..was he? Was he really?
Jun-hee despite the protest of player 333 went towards you and the guard to try and keep you there saying how you had nothing to do with the attack. But the guard only pointed their gun to her, that broke your somehow dazed state.
"I will go, just let her be"
"No (Y/N)!" Jun-hee tried to go towards you but was held back by Player 333.
"Dont worry Jun-hee" You said giving her a sad smile.
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○
You had no idea where you were being taken. The guard did not say a word but also kept a slow peace like he was taking care over you.
You two made it a elevator, all black inside. The guard urged you inside and pushed some buttons till it started to move.
The doors opened revealing a dark corridor the guard guided you towards a big black door, he opened it revealing a big screen now turned off and a black couch. But there was another guard, however this was only had his face covered by the black fabric only his eyes were seen.
You took note of a few medical tools and you started to get nervous.
"Stay calm, I was told to check on your health and your baby, please sit here. We can move you to the bed to examine your baby"
Now you were confused, why check your health? What about Jun-hee?
"But there is another woman who-"
"I was only told to check on you. Please" He said tone incredible soft.
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○
After the examination the Guard (who told you he was a doctor) said that the baby was healthy, but that you needed rest and more food.
Both guards went to leave, but you stopped them.
"W-wait, im not going back?" You asked confused.
"Player 344, you have been eliminated from the games" Was the only response you got and were left alone in the dark room.
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~
"Sir, player 344 has been examinated and left in your room" The guard said to their Boss who just nodded back.
"I will be there soon"
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~
Hours passed, you were scared. You stayied on the bed, too tired to move, this bed was too confortable too, and after listening to the Doctor's words you imagined this was good for your baby.
Even if you still felt bad.
You had been crying for the last hours, not beliving that In-ho could be dead, no in fact part of you refused to believe it.
And Jun-hee your friend...the one who was in the same desesperated situation as you. You could not believe she was still there...
Outside the door stood In-ho in his Front Man clothes, he was scared of your reaction, would he tell you it was him ? What was he supposed to do ?
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~
The doors opened making a sound, you had fallend asleep after crying. One hand on your belly like you were protecting it even in your sleep.
In-ho felt his heart go down and up, the sight was...beautiful in a strange way. Why could things dont be easier? You could wait for him like this everyday, the three of you could live together and he would be such a good father.
His gloved hand went to touch your face, slowly tracing your cheeck. Your tears broke his heart.
Your eyes started to move, and he pushed himself away. Not wanting to scare you.
Once you finally woke up you saw a dark figured, a black mask, you moved away against the wall.
"W-who are you?" You tone was evident, you were scared and confused.
"Im the Front Man, player 344 you have been eliminated from the games and will be sent back"
"What? Wait, does this mean I-"
In-ho held up his hand dont wanting you to continue, things were already too difficult for him.
"Your situation was analyzed and so decided that you wont continue"
"But- there is another woman! Jun-hee, player 222, she needs to be out as well" You exclaimed getting up and going closer to him.
"Player 222 will continue in the games. Thats final"
"B-but why?"
"Should you not be happy for you and your baby?"
"Im, but im not a hearthless person, if I can get out because of my situation then she can too"
In-ho took a deep breath, he could not believe how even now you were thinking in others.
But he that was part of your charm as well...
"Its a final decision, besides you are soon to give birth. That was what the Doctor said, we cant let that happen in here"
Without thinking his gloved hand went to your belly, one more time, he needed to feel it just one more time-
"Dont touch me" You said in grith theeth taking his hand and pushing it away. In all honestly I hurted him more than any pain he had endured before.
"You are a monster, you- You keep the games going and let others die. You are nothing but a piece of shit"
In-ho knew you were nervous, scared, angry and much more. But your words cut deep, his soul breaking.
"You will be send back home soon. I recommend you dont try to talk about this to others. Nothing good will come from it" These were going to be his last words for you when he turned back.
"W-wait, player 001, In-ho...is he"
"Player 001 has been eliminated" Were his final words, he did not turn when he hear your cry, knowing he would not resist going back and comfort you.
No, instead he went away. Blocking your cries. Outside a guard stood still waiting for orders.
"Check on her, make sure she does not hurt herself and that she eats her food tonight. All of it"
A bittersweet goodbye
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○
Final note: An epilogue will be out !! 💜
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Tags:
@maria-trisha @blueyesuguru @imenekiki @victorie767 @futuristicdefendorfart @heyitsmefall
@love-you-louise @fantasylovestoryme @sleepyycatt @nightdark-dreamdark @lindsay00000 @ourlovesarang @smally97 @zigmasstuff @aleemendoz @the-disaster-in-waiting
@ilovequeen978 @sc4rrc @sylviavf @l4venderia @blueeclipsepaperstudent @annasnape7 @llawlietluv @florgenegrastuff @luv1ze @jspidey5
@moonoteru @saaraahnger @hope4rain19 @soniiyi @angelmoneter @skywalker0809 @ashsallyblue2 @realrintaro @bellstwd @tojisrealwifey @otterluver05 @yuan1819 @spanish-delulu-23 @lisaannwalterlover @yodayyy @tenzko @tinylawyerbluebird @istanstraykidss
I could not tag some of you 😔
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twisted-broth · 3 months ago
Text
A Human's Touch
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Mr Gap x Reader
(Anything in bold is other world language)
It had been a while now since you had returned to the other world. It was hard to tell time here, but at least you knew that this was where you belonged. It was almost laughable to think that you once tried to leave this place.
You would never admit it, but you really owed a lot to the shit eating grin that always manages to pop up whenever you need him. Even now, with you life no longer in constant peril, he pops up somewhere nearby quite often. It could be from the crack of your closet, inside your bag, or a random hole in the wall that you swear wasn't there before. As annoying as Mr Gap was, he was probably the closest thing you had to a friend. He would even bring you things from the human world if you asked. For a price, of course.
You sigh as your "friend" holds one of your favorite books from the human world just out of reach. He was playing his favorite game again.
"Give leg." He demanded.
"Give foot." Was your counter offer. Most of your body parts would grow back, but it takes longer for bigger parts and more complex organs. Luckily there didn't seem to be a word in their language for liver or spinal column.
His expression twists for a moment, but the smile quickly returns. "Yes." He agrees.
The pain that radiates from your ankle would have made you pass out a few months ago, but now it only elicits a stifled grunt. You snatch the book from Mr. Gap's hand as he smiles at the newfound treasure that appears in his grasp. You sigh once more and put the book to the side before pressing an already bloodied towel to your ankle.
With the bleeding successfully stopped, there was nothing else for you to do but lie in bed while you waited for it to grow back. You spared a glance towards your new book, but couldn't muster the energy to read it. The isolation of this world had been wearing on you. You had been spending time with Mr Silvair and Mr Chopped lately, but there was another recent earthquake that blocked off your path to them. You had yet to find the time to search for a new one.
With an arm draped over your eyes, you fell back against your threadbare pillow. The covers rustled around you, giving away the presence of another with you.
"Why sad?" You opened one eye to look down at your covers. The face of Mr Gap blended in with the darkness above your legs. If he had a body, he would be nearly lying on top of you. The part of your brain that was still human couldn't help but think that some actual physical touch would be nice.
"I one. Sad. Friend not here." Elaborating on the concept of loneliness using a lexicon of 100 words wasn't really a task you wanted to undertake at the moment.
You had thought Mr Gap would either leave or laugh at you, but to your surprise he looked confused. "I here." He responded.
Now it was your turn to be confused. If you weren't mistaken, he seemed almost offended that you hadn't called him a friend.
"You friend?"
"Yes." If this language had some equivalent of 'duh', you imagined that would be what he would say instead.
All you can do in response is blink at him. You really never imagined that Mr Gap would hang around you because he considered you a friend. If anything, you thought he just saw you as a an endless stream of various body parts. "Thank you. I like friend."
Hesitantly, you lifted a hand to reach up and stroke his head. He looked mildly disgusted (which was often his expression anyway), but didn't react otherwise. His hair wasn't exactly pleasant to touch- it was greasy and weirdly damp in places- but at least it was something of what you had been missing. He continued to humor you, but you decided not to push your luck on how long he would allow you to continue touching him.
"Why touch?" He asked when you were done.
"Human like touch. Make sad go away." It wasn't exactly what you wanted to say, but you figured it would get the point across.
Hesitantly, one of his arms reaches out from beneath your covers. Your current working theory was that his arms just appeared whenever he needed them, but you haven't gotten around to asking him yet. Your positioning is a bit awkward, so he can't reach your head to return your pats. Instead, he pats you on the shoulder for a few seconds. His hands are cold and clammy, but those few seconds of touch are something you've been missing for a while.
You smile. Mr Gap could be annoying at best and cruel at worst, but it would seem that he does have a sweet side to him after all. You distantly wonder if some semblance of a normal relationship would be possible here. Unlikely, but it may not be as out of reach as you once thought.
"Thank you. You good friend." You said after a beat of silence. For a moment it appears like he isn't quite sure how to feel about your declaration. You don't imagine it's something people tell him often. After a second of thought, he returns your smile.
"Me good friend. You give heart?"
Well, you can work on that.
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pomefioredove · 4 months ago
Note
So people use Kalim, right? Like pretend to be his friend because he has money-
What if Kalim's crush is just like "Yeah I grew up poor....anyways! I bought you this gold bracelet! Probably not real gold, but I thought it'd fit your style." And is just always pulling up with gifts and little trinkets and just refuses to let Kalim spend any money 😭 I also imagine if Kalim gave them a gift, they'd just start bawling because they don't know how to accept gifts-
:3c I love a little kalim posting
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ the mystery of the magi
type of post: short fic characters: kalim additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, realizing now that I went a liytle off-prompt, sorry u-u
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You gave Kalim one rule.
One rule. You had no expectations, no requirements, no shopping list.
Just one rule... that happened to be impossible for him to follow.
"No money?" Jamil asks, watching Kalim pace the room. "You can't spend any money? So no clothes, no jewelry, no games?"
It's far past curfew, but even Jamil had long forgotten about that. That's how strange this whole thing is.
Kalim has never looked so worried. "Not a thaumark. They said so!"
"Did they...?"
Of course. Jamil has thought you were weird from the day Kalim started coming home with plastic toys and friendship bracelets, "gifts" of yours. But this is just absurd.
The heir to one of the richest families in the world has days to find you the perfect birthday gift, and he can't spend any money.
Kalim's eyes are wide with thought, which is a strange look on him. "They say that my presence is enough..."
"But it's not," Jamil finishes the thought for him. Kalim had always given gifts as love- handing out gold and jewels like they were candy- which made him a treat for... well, most of NRC. But not you.
"Well... there's plenty you can do without spending," Jamil says. "You could... cook something, or plan a nice date..."
Kalim pouts. "It's not enough! Everything they get me is so... perfect... I want to do the same!"
Perfect, meaning the cheap toys from claw machines, drawings, handmade jewelry, half-edible cookies... Kalim keeps everything you give him. Everything. His room is beginning to look like the prize shelf at an arcade.
"This is quite the conundrum, isn't it..." Jamil mutters. "Are you sure I can't-"
"No! I need to come up with it on my own! They're just... so good at gift-giving. I wonder how they do it..." Kalim sighs. Jamil rolls his eyes.
"Then... perhaps I can offer some advice. The sort of gift you're looking to give doesn't come from here," Jamil says, pointing to his head. He trails his finger down to his chest.
"...It comes from here."
Though that was complete nonsense, Kalim lights up. "I-I think I understand! Thanks, Jamil!"
And then he's gone.
.
Trapped in a circle of friends and Scarabia students, you awkwardly smile at their birthday wishes.
Grim's greedy little paws dig into the homemade cake before the candles are out, getting icing all over himself. You chuckle, a warm, loving sound that makes Kalim beam. Good so far.
"Time for gifts. We do have a curfew to mind," Jamil says, and Grim laughs maniacally, reaching out for the first box.
"Actually," Kalim says, smiling as if it were his own birthday. "I was hoping I'd get to give my gift first!"
You chuckle. "I don't see why not,"
Kalim returns the gesture, and he stands on the table, drawing everyone's attention to him. Jamil raises an eyebrow.
"I'm not seeing a box!" Grim shouts, and you shush him. Kalim clears his throat.
"I'm usually not so bad at this, but I had a lot of trouble thinking of the perfect present for you... until Jamil said I was thinking too much here... and not here," he says, pointing first to his head, and then lower, to his throat.
You give Jamil a confused look, but he looks just as lost.
"So... that's what I'm going to do. Happy birthday!"
Everyone watches in some mix of amusement and horror as Kalim begins to sing... in your honor.
Without any accompanying music, he performs, in front of everyone you know, a song about everything he loves about you. Even Jamil looks horrified.
When it's over, the room is quiet. Everyone is staring at Kalim as if his head had fallen off.
Then, slowly, you stand. And you clap.
You're beaming. "That was amazing! Again! Again!"
Kalim grins, unphased by the weird looks everyone is giving you two, and he hops off the table to pull you into a hug.
"I'm so glad you liked it!"
"Liked it!? That was..." you laugh, hugging him back. "That was perfect."
"I can sing it as much as you want! Every night, if it makes you happy!"
"Sevens help me..." Jamil sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. Trey gives him a sympathetic pat on the back.
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