#construction site plot

[espew]

new babygirl just drop ! i just wanted to draw a wizard...

[zarameraki]

˖°🕷️ ࣪𖤐 𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶'𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝘃𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗻𝘆 ˖°🕷️𖤐

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 unprotected sex 𖥔 single dad x nanny 𖥔 porn with plot 𖥔 banter 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 praise 𖥔 shower sex 𖥔 bj 𖥔 certified pussy eater 𖥔 daddy issues 𖥔 dirty talking 𖥔 small pillow talk 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut

: ̗̀➛ words: 2.7k

: ̗̀➛ notes: wrote this one a while ago and decided it was time to get it out of the drafts. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.

“After the prince and his princess defeated the scary, ancient dragon, their kingdom lived happily ever after.”

With a smile, you closed the storybook, glancing over at Megumi, peacefully asleep in his crib. Your fingers brushed against his velvety cheeks before you tucked him in snugly and quietly left his room.

The jingle of keys echoed through the air. 

Toji stepped into the apartment, his appearance dishevelled and weary of another demanding day at the construction site. He shed his hefty boots and lumbered into the living room. Catching sight of you, a faint grin settled on his lips. “He asleep?”

“The dragon story always knocks him out cold.” You took his bag and set it down by the couch as he shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall onto the bar stools. “Long day?” 

“Too fucking long.” He yanked open the fridge door, retrieving a container of leftover pasta and a beer. You joined him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and cracking open the can for him. “One of the machines decided to call it quits halfway through. Spent hours waiting for the mechanics to patch it up before we could even think of wrapping up the foundation.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Zenin.” Your gaze shifted to the scattered construction toys that Megumi often indulged in. “With tomorrow being the weekend, maybe you could take some time to unwind and spend quality time with Megs.”

Toji let out a derisive snort as he warmed up his food. “Always appreciate you looking out for us, sweetheart.” 

“Hey, babysitting is my job.”

He took the beer can from your hand and affectionately pinched your cheek. You grinned with your nose scrunching up. “My paycheck isn’t gonna be here until next week. Is it cool if I can pay you a little late? I’ll double it to make up for it.” 

“Nah, you’re good. I can wait. Megumi’s my favourite little client.” You tucked your hands into the pockets of your jeans as Toji grabbed his dinner and brushed past you. “Jesus, Mr. Zenin. You smell like cement.” 

“Cut me some slack, kid.” 

“I’m twenty-two. Not a kid.” 

“If you’re younger than me”—he jabbed his fork in your direction—“you’re still a kid. Capiche?” 

“Eating pasta doesn't grant you Italian citizenship,” you teased. He rolled his eyes as you snatched your backpack. “Well, I’ll see you Monday evening, then.” 

“Leaving so soon?” 

You quirked a brow and raised your phone. “It’s ten in the evening.” 

“That’s early. Come on, stay and grab a bite. Wanna share?” 

Your stomach rumbled in agreement. And hey, a little extra time with Toji wouldn’t be the worst thing. Among all the parents, he was the only one you felt at ease being around late at night. He felt more like a good friend than just another guardian.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” You set down your bag and snagged an extra fork, sliding onto the stool beside him. He placed the container between you two, ensuring you got enough of your separate fill.   

“Your feeding your fucking hair, sweetheart,” he commented, collecting your hair back. His fingers brushed over the side of your neck making it hard for you to swallow. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, quickly gathering your hair into a ponytail. Toji continued to chew slowly, his gaze fixed on you. “What?” 

“You always had a mole there?” He pointed below your jaw where a prominent beauty mark tattooed your skin. 

“I’m offended that you’ve just noticed now.” 

He finished chewing. “You don’t tie your hair up often.” 

“Would you like me to?” You twirled your spaghetti around your fork.

“I like your hair down,” he admitted, his gaze lingering a moment longer than necessary. “But maybe not while we’re eating. Don’t want them getting dirty.” 

You rolled your eyes and took a large bite, cheeks puffing out as you chewed.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Toji grumbled, swiping away the speck of tomato sauce from the corner of your mouth. His tongue darted out to clear it, followed by another swipe of his hand. The tomato sauce probably matched the colour of your skin from that gesture. “Ever thought about hiring a nanny for yourself?” 

“No, but I might have someone to take care of me in a month.” 

Toji paused and dragged his eyes towards you. “Who?” 

“Just a boy from my class,” you replied nonchalantly, poking your fork in the meatball. “He’s cute, sure. Plus, he’s a hockey player. Basically the epitome of the perfect, conventional, bring-home-to-mom-and-dad kind of guy.”

Toji took a deliberate sip of his beer. “If that’s what you’re into.”

“You say it like you’re an expert on my taste.”

“I’ve known you for a year, darling. You never struck me as someone who’d go for a poster boy.” 

“Then who do you think I’d go for?” you asked softly. Green eyes locked with yours in a tense silence. “Since you seem to have me all figured out.”

Toji stole a quick glance at your lips, then darted his eyes toward the door of his son's bedroom. He fought back the surge of temptation bubbling up inside him, tightening his grip on the beer can in his hand. “Maybe I haven’t gotten to know you well enough.” He went to take a bite but you quickly interrupted by grasping his hand and guiding his fork toward your mouth. 

With the spaghetti twirled around it, you brought it to your lips, savouring the taste as you chewed slowly, all the while locking eyes with his emerald gaze. He observed your throat as you swallowed, his attention now fully magnetised by your flushed face.

As you licked the sauce from the corners of your lips, and wrapped your mouth around your thumb to clean it, Toji’s pulse quickened. “I’m an open book for you, Mr. Zenin.” You rose from your seat, reaching for your backpack. He couldn't tear his gaze away, transfixed by the sight of your ass. “Have a wonderful time beating yourself off to my pictures tonight.” 

Toji’s gaze flickered to his undeniable bulge straining against his jeans, a curse slipping past his lips. Downing his beer as you moved away, he pushed off the stool, closing the distance with a predatory grace, catching you in the middle of tying your shoelaces.

Your eyes widened as he backed you against the door, trapping your arms above your head. His knee insinuated itself between yours, his breath hot against your lips as he snarled. 

“He’s made dinner reservations at an Italian restaurant next week,” you whispered. “Unless you don’t want me sharing pasta with him like it’s a fucking Disney movie, I suggest you kiss me now, Toji.” 

“God, that fucking mouth of yours.” A broad smile appeared at his lips as he pressed them hungrily against yours. Your body responded instinctively, grinding against his thigh in a desperate plea for more. Toji’s grip on your wrists loosened, his hand finding its way to your face, driving his tongue inside your mouth and flicking it against yours. 

He lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he held onto your ass. Lost in the intoxication of your overdue kiss, Toji maintained some semblance of awareness, urgently guiding himself into the bathroom, where he settled you onto the counter.

Breaking away, but still holding your jaw, he smirked. “I smelled like shit, yeah?” 

You shrugged. “Cement, but close enough.” 

“Since you know it all, you’re gonna help me clean it off.”  He stripped off his shirt before reclaiming your lips once more, your hands roaming eagerly over his chest and around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. You’d waited a whole year for this. 

Toji removed your jacket, then paused to peel off your t-shirt. He unhooked your bra with a single motion, pulling you close against him. The sensation of your nipples grazing against his chest hair made you momentarily gasp for air.

“You good?” he whispered, palming the side of your head. 

“So good.” You lunged at him again. He stumbled backward, bringing you with him until you both found yourselves inside the shower stall. His muscular arms coiled around you, pulling you closer as he ravaged your mouth.

Meanwhile, you shed your sweatpants and panties, while Toji unclasped his jeans and tossed them aside along with the rest of your clothes. He briefly opened his eyes, his mouth moving in sync with your desperate one, as he reached to twist the shower faucet open.

The first layer of cold water made you shiver and break apart. You and Toji stared at one another, your gazes lowering in tandem to study your naked bodies. He was big. So big. And extremely hard. His pink tip reached up to naval. Covered in veins that pulsed at a closer look. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous, sweetheart,” Toji said, stepping closer to you. Your back met the cold surface of the stall’s glass wall. His large hands cupped your breasts and travelled down to your hips. “You've been hiding all of this under those stupid looking sweaters?” 

“I happen to like my sweaters, thank you very much.” 

“Baby, they’re ugly.” 

You rolled your eyes and smiled. He continued to laugh at his own comment until you gripped his dick. 

He stopped immediately. 

“What’s wrong, Mr. Zenin?” Your hands moved in an elevated pattern. “Cat got your cock?” He planted his palms on either side of your head. You added twists and rolls, ones that had him at your mercy. Then you sank down onto your knees and swirled your tongue around him, sucking him off. He was breathing hard and fast, and his fingers gripped your hair. “Fuck my throat until I can’t speak for a week.” 

Toji snapped. 

He thrusted deep, deep down your throat and relished in the gagging sounds you made. “Holy fuck, baby. You’re so good at taking my cock.” Your nail sank into his hips, eyes rolling back to your skull. He forced you to open your eyes by pulling at your hair. “Fucking look at me, you little slut.” He shoved himself deeper and held your face against his pelvis. You scratched against his skin to take a breather while choking on his hot gush of release. There was nothing to swallow when he pulled your head back, releasing his dick from the confines of your mouth. 

You coughed out, drumming your fist against your chest to regain control of your lungs. A hand wrapped around your arm and stood you up. 

Toji held your jaw and inspected you closely with a twinge of concern. “Was I too hard on you, doll?” 

You nodded but raised a thumbs up. “Fantastic.” Probably the best blow-job you’ve ever given—even if Toji was mostly in control. 

His lips met yours in a soft kiss, allowing the water to wash away at your bodies. He massaged his fingers through your scalp, and, in contrast, gave your left asscheek a sharp slap. “Turn around. It’s my turn to eat.” 

Your chest pasted against the glass wall. Toji pressed himself against your back and slithered his hand down to cup your pussy. He grunted in your ear delivering a slap to it and hearing you squeak from the impact. His fingers pinched your clit and parted your folds. Easily, he fitted two fingers into your hole. “Jesus. You’re so fucking tight. No one’s been in this pussy before, baby?” 

“A few,” you said. “But they were smaller.” 

Toji curled his fingers inside of you. “A dirty whore like you needs something bigger. Don’t you, doll?” You moaned against the glass, your cheek pressed to the surface. “Tell me, baby. You need my fat cock to stretch out your tiny cunt? Need me to shape it to my cock’s size?” 

“Y-Yes—ah.” You arched your back the second his calloused thumb started circling your clit. “Fuck, Toji—oh, fuck. Faster.” He drove in a third finger and his free hand clapped over your mouth to suppress your cry. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed in your ear. “Can you do that for me, doll?” You nodded and he pushed you forward, kneeling down and spreading your asscheeks. “My pussy. You hear that? This is my fucking pussy.�� He dragged his tongue over it and up to your little puckered hole. 

You were high on the sounds of him slurping at your release, sucking your folds into his mouth, and teasing your asshole with the tip of his tongue. This was not how you imagined your Friday night to go, but you weren’t gonna complain. You’ve been fantasising about this moment since Toji caught you putting up babysitting flyers in his neighbourhood. 

“My dick’s gonna break off if I don’t put it in now.” He wrapped your hair around his palm and positioned himself at your entrance. “Ready, doll?” 

“Fuck me, Toji. Please.” 

He could get off on your begging alone. 

His hips thrusted forward, his cock filling you to the hilt. He pulled back out and drove in—repeatedly, relentlessly. His palm came down with a bruising slap on your ass without a break. Toji wasn’t going to be satisfied until they were discoloured, until you couldn’t sit down for days. 

Seeing you wanton and moaning his name flicked a switch in his brain. He was going to brandish you in a way that you wouldn’t leave him for weeks. Months. Years. You’d be at his side until your children were arranging your joint funerals. The strange feeling inside his chest felt foreign, almost hindered the speed at which he was rutting in you. This was his first time fucking you after a year of pining and jerking himself off to your picture and he was already envisioning a romantic-movie montage. 

Toji leaned his face back so the water washed away the vision. Then he pulled out and turned you around, kissing your gasping mouth. He entered inside you again, hoisting one leg up. His fingers pinned you in place by your throat while violating your—his—pussy. 

“I’m gonna come inside you,” he breathed out over your swollen lips. 

“Do it.” 

Toji suppressed his groan by crushing his mouth against yours, a guttural growl producing from his throat. His release was everlasting, filling your inside to the brim. You came crashing down, holding the back of his hair and breaking away to breathe. His face nuzzled in the crook of your neck, equally panting. Those large hands settled on your throbbing ass as he completed the last bits of his ministrations. 

 You were both out of breath as you stared at one another. 

Toji blinked when you hugged him around his torso. His arms remained frozen at his side, glimpsing down at your crown. You looked up with those big, doe-eyes and a full-blown smile. Oh, he was so fucked. 

The remainder of the night was spent washing and drying each other, before tangling your naked bodies in bed. 

Toji continuously kissed your lips, his hand running up and down your back. You laid atop his chest, his cock buried within you as you gently rowed your hips back and forth. He planned to keep it nestled in you for the rest of the night. 

“Spend the weekend with me,” he murmured, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “We’ll go out for dinner at an Italian restaurant with Megumi.” 

“Yeah?” You pecked his nose. “We’ll look like a little family.” 

“That little shit already considers you his mother.” 

You chuckled and brushed the tendrils of hair away from his forehead. “Maybe another time. College’s been kicking my ass. Gotta catch up on those assignments if I wanna graduate with honours.” 

Toji found himself desolated. “Can’t you just study here?” 

“Not with two babies whining and crying for my attention.” 

He gave your ass a light smack. You feigned a wince making him caress it immediately. 

“But I can come over in the evening,” you said. “We can go out for ice-cream.”

He smiled at the fact that you were going to make time for him and his son despite your busy schedule. “Ice-cream it is.” 

You laid your head down on his shoulder and adjusted yourself comfortably on his cock. “Goodnight, Mr. Zenin.” 

“Goodnight, doll.” He rested one hand on the back of your head and the other massaging your ass, staring up at the ceiling where his vision played for the rest of night. 

Toji smiled. 

[writers-potion]

Let's Scare Your Readers!

Combine the techniques below with the techniques for building suspense to give your readers a palm-sweating sensation!

Darkness

If absolute darkness doesn't make sense in your story, aim for semi-darkness: dusk, a single lantern/candle, heavily curtained windows, a thick canopy of trees, etc. Flickering lights that create confusing shadows can also be effective.

Let the darkness pool gradually around your MC. Show the night or fog rolling in, the camp-fire subsiding, or the candles burn down one by one.

Examples:

The candle sputtered. The light wavered.

The lamp cast its smoky light on the brick walls.

The night was silent, but for the dry rustling of leaves as the wind whispered through the trees.

Sound

Of all the senses, the sense of hearing serves best to create excitement and fear.

the clacking of the villain's boots on the floor tiles, the ticking of the wall clock, a dog barking outside, the roaring of a distant motor, a door slamming somewhere in the house, water dripping from the ceiling, the chair squeaking, the whine of the dentist's drill, the scraping of the knife on a whetstone, a faraway siren wailing the heroine's own heartbeat thudding in her ears.

When the surroundings are dark, your MC will grow to be more aware of the surrounding noise, even if it's not relevant to the plot.

Chill

Make it uncomfortably cold for the MC, and your readers will shiver with them.

powercut cutting off the heating, nightfall naturally bringing in lower temperatures.

winter, evening, a cool breeze that chills everything, survivors running our of fuel, the ceiling fan is over-active, stone builindg/caves/sbuterranean chambers tend to be cold.

Describe how the cold pinpricks the MC's skin, stunting their thinking and making them shiver.

The opposite can also be effective: turn up the temperature using a stove, an overheated motor, or the sweltering sun to make the MC sweat.

Isolation

This is a common technique: let the MC face the monster alone with no external help. It's also easier to limit the resources and escape routes available for the MC.

an abandoned factory, remote mountaintop, the depth of an unexplored cave.

It can also be more everyday locations: a construction site, the sewer, a malfunctioning bathroom.

Meet the Monster

When describing the threat, spread out your descriptions so that (1) the scene has constant action (2) you have material to build up later.

Good details to show:

hands, fingers, nails, talons, claws

the sound of the voice, growl, roar

the smile, teeth

the texture of skin, fur, scales.

Get Visceral

Never tell your readers that the MC is scared. Describe the fright using these physical effects:

the skin crawling, breath stalling, scalp pricking, clenching of the chest, stomach curling, heart thudding, sweat tricking down, clogged throat, pulse in the ears, cold sweat, chills up/down the spine, stomach knotting, breathless, etc.

The Gory Bits

Instead of describing everything, limit yourself to particular details, keeping overall description short. Non-stop gore doesn't shock - its bores.

Create a contrast: the child's mutilated corpse still clutches the doll. The brains from the baby's plt skull spill across the fluffy pink blanket.

Use similes, comparing gruesome buts to something from ordinary life. The intestines look like spaghetti in tomato sauce. The blood spilling from the mouth looks like lipstick.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 

💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2 

💎For early access to my content,  become a Writing Wizard 

[juniperskye]

Take A Seat.

A lil Blurb - Based on the following request: Please Aaron Hotchner x BAU! fem reader smut? like they are just lazily making out on the couch and things get hot? (Reader rides Hotch like her live depends on it and Hotch clingy for dear life while she does it)

Hotch x Fem Reader

Word count: 607

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, Fem reader, pet names, SMUT, porn with no plot. Let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Aaron had just returned from a two-week long case, and you were feeling pretty needy. Jack had been spending the night with his aunt and you had never been more grateful for that fact. The second Aaron had walked through the door you had pounced on him.

That was nearly thirty minutes ago now. His go bag, shoes, and suit jack long forgotten in the entryway.

Now, Aaron was sat on the couch with you straddling his lap. Your shirt had been tossed over somewhere near the coffee table and the buttons on Aarons had been pulled open in a heated frenzy.

He was sucking deep purple marks into the skin where your neck and shoulder met while you grind your hips down into his lap. A moan slipped past your lips as Aaron nipped at your skin. His gaze lifted to meet your own and if you looked anything like he did…you were both completely wrecked. Hair tousled, lips swollen, pupils dilated and dark with lust, desperate. You knew what he needed and even more so, you knew he was going to give into your desires before anything else. That’s the thing about Aaron…he was a giver.

“I need you.” You gasped as Aarons lips pressed into the top of your barely covered breasts.

“You have me sweetheart. Take whatever you need.” He mumbled, pulling the lace of your bra down to expose your peaked nipple.

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips when his teeth grazed over the sensitive nub. With shaking hands, you moved to pull at his belt, trying to free his achingly hard cock. It had been straining against his slacks, pressing hot against your core for the better half of the last half hour.

Aaron tapped your thigh, signaling you to stand momentarily to allow you both to rid yourself of the remaining clothing you had on. After a moment of tender hands assisting one another to undress, you made your way back to your previous positions.

As you lower yourself back into Aaron’s lap, he guides his cock into your waiting entrance.

“God your cock feels so good.” You groan into Aaron’s ear.

“That’s it baby. Take what you need.” Aaron praises as you find your rhythm.

--

The room was hot, salacious sounds of skin slapping against skin the only audio in the room. Your hands were white knuckled, holding the back of the couch as you bounced up and down on Aaron’s cock. His hands gripping your hips, supporting your movements. While his face pressed to your skin, moving from your neck to your breasts as you moved against him.

The sounds escaping both you and Aaron were pornographic, loud and uncontrolled as you both neared peak.

“Aaron baby I’m close!” You gasped.

“Cum for me sweet girl, let it go.” He instructed.

After a few more thrusts, you felt the band snap, orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. All the while Aaron is now guiding your hips, chasing his own release. His hands wrapped around you in a bruising grip while his lips attach to your skin.

Sweat was cast over your skin, your hands were holding onto Aaron’s shoulders, you’re thankful for his grip on you as you are sure you’d have collapsed by now. His continued ministrations have sent another wave of pleasure to wash over you and the convulsions of your pussy finally sending him over the edge.

Aaron painted your walls with a grunt of pleasure, and as his breathing settled, he placed a sweet kiss against your lips.

“I missed you.” You whispered.

“I missed you too sweetheart.”

[indovance]

Site plans, sometimes also known as plot plans, come in a variety of styles and levels of detail. 

A plot plan is a scaled engineering schematic that depicts the process blocks, utility blocks, building blocks, roads, and Pipe rack connectivity of a proposed project site/plot. The plot plan is a diagram that depicts all of the plant’s facilities within the plot’s battery limit. There are also other essential necessary infrastructures, such as the primary access road.

Site Plan is a larger picture of the relevant selected plot/site for the plant, comparable to a map, that shows where the selected plot is placed in relation to other geographical features such as rivers, roads, terrains, seashores, and so on.

[albertasunrise]

Work Wife - One

Masterlist

Summary: Working as a Secretary and Miller & Sons Construction, you fall hopelessly in love with the eldest son Joel. What you don’t realise is that Joel’s completely in love with you too. What will it take for the two of you to realise whats’s right in front of you?

Pairing: Young Joel Miller x Reader

Warnings: Like AO3, I choose not to give any so the plot isn’t spoiled. This fic is 18+ (So here’s the first chapter as promised! I hope you all enjoy. Let me know what y’all think ♥️… I wrote half of this on my iPad so sorry for mistakes 😅)

Series Masterlist

Working as a secretary at Miller & Son's Construction had its highs and lows. You loved the job. The pay was great, and all the guys treated you impeccably, but there was just one slight problem that, if you were honest with yourself, wasn't really a problem but more of a personal issue. 

You were in love with Joel Miller. 

At 21, Joel was already shaping up to be a fine businessman, taking on a lot of the work from his father so that Cole Miller and his wife Lucia could take more time for themselves. The youngest Miller brother Tommy was shaping up to be a troublemaker. At 17, he was often out drinking with his friends and getting himself arrested and it had fallen to Joel to bail his little brother out every time. 

You were a year younger than Joel but as he always said, years ahead of him on the maturity scale. You had always been an old soul but that hadn't stopped you from developing the biggest schoolgirl crush on Joel the day you had started, two years ago. What had started off as a temporary job before you went off to college became permanent when your mum had gotten sick and your dreams of going to college were dashed. 

Her illness took her a year after she had been diagnosed and with no father to speak of, you were left alone in the house you'd grown up in. Alone, with nothing but the photos on your walls for company. That time had been what had brought you and Joel closer together but had also forged your crush into what it was now. Unrequited love. 

Or so you thought. 

"Sup Pip." Said Joel as he placed a paper coffee cup down beside your keyboard "How's my favourite secretary this mornin'?" 

"I'm you're only Secretary Miller." You chuckled as you picked up your cup to take a sip and hummed at the perfect coffee flavour that exploded across your taste buds "Better now you've brought me coffee." 

"Always happy to assist Pip." He said with a wink and you prayed your flushing cheeks didn't give away how much his wink affected you. 

Pip had been a nickname Joel had affectionately given you around three months after you had started. You had been eating a plum at your desk, not a care in the work and engrossed in the customer email that you were reading that you hadn't noticed that the next bite you had taken had contained the pip. Joel had walked in just in time to witness you choking and, using his first aid training he'd acquired just the week before, had managed to save you from a fruity death. 

From that day he had called you pip. 

Because you'd almost choked on one. 

"Anything I need to know about before I head to the site?" Joel asked, pulling you from the memory of your near-death experience and you shook your head slightly before giving him what you hoped was a bright smile. 

"Yes." You replied as you pulled out the list you had compiled for him "A Mr and Mrs Cork have emailed, wanting a quote for an extension and kitchen refit." You stated as you handed him the email with a post it note with their number on top "You have a call with a new cement supplied at 2 and Gloria Mullins called this morning asking that you call her when you get a chance, apparently her boiler is on the fritz again." 

"I need to tell that woman one of these days that I'm not a plumber." He chuckled to himself as he took the rest of the notes from you. 

"You just need to stop being so nice." You chuckled "You've set their expectations now." 

"I think you're probably right." Joel chuckled as he grabbed his own coffee cup and took a large swig "Anything else?" 

"There's just one more thing." You said shyly as you smiled awkwardly "I need to duck out a little earlier today." 

"Hot date?" Joel asked and you knew he could see you blushing now. 

"Actually yeah." You answered as you looked down at your hands, missing the way Joel's expression dropped "Simon asked me to dinner." 

"Simon Richards?" He asked and you nodded "Oh, wow. I uh... I didn't realise you were into him." Joel shrugged before taking another sip of coffee to try and settle his nerves. 

"Well, he's cute and sweet and it's not like I have guys lining up to ask me out." You replied, your smile almost sad "So I thought I should at least go. See if there's any chemistry there." 

"Sure... Of course." 

Joel knew his response was cold but he couldn't help it. Learning that you were going on a date just made him want to find the nearest pillow and scream. These feelings he had for you drove him crazy and it didn’t help that all his employees knew how he felt about you too. He’d allowed them to plant false hope when they told him that it was obvious you felt the same way. It was becoming painfully clear now that that wasn’t the case. 

He needed to get over you. 

You couldn’t help but notice the slight icy tone that had coated Joel’s response to your request and you couldn’t help be feel a little confused by it. You never asked for things. Often worked late to make sure everyone and everything was up to date. You would argue that you were one of his hardest workers so sue you for wanting to let your hair down a little. 

It’s not like he felt for you the way you did for him. 

“Sure.” He said after a short and awkward pause “Lord knows you deserve an early finish.” He chuffed before gathering his bag, the papers you’d given him and his coffee “And, seeing as I won’t be back today and Friday, I suppose I’ll see you Monday!”

“That you will!” 

“Enjoy your date, Pip.” he finished before giving you a friendly wave and then leaving. 

“I’ll try to.” you said sadly as you watched him walk away. 

...

"You are my hero!" Hailed Gloria as she clapped in delight at Joel's handy work. 

"Was an easy fix." Joel shrugged as he waved the older woman off. 

"You always talk yourself down." She chuckled, her Jamaican accent coming out thicker with her statement. 

"I'm just speaking the truth ma'am." 

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Gloria?" The older woman chuckled and Joel winked as he replied. 

"At least once more."

"Auntie G... you home?" Came a voice that Joel didn't recognise and he looked up just as the owner walked into the room he had occupied with Gloria.  

"Ah, darlin' this is that fine man Joel I was tellin' you about." Said Gloria as she smiled at her niece. 

Joel was instantly aware of the fact he was wearing paint-stained jeans and a t-shirt so worn that he was sure this mysterious girl could see his nipples through it. 

"Joel, darlin' this is my niece, Eliza." Gloria stated and Joel quickly rubbed his hands down the front of his jeans before taking the hand that was being held out to him.

"Nice to meet ya' darlin'." He said sweetly as he gave her a shy smile "Was just helpin' Gloria here with her boiler. Darn thing needs replacin' really but-"

"I won't replace something just because it's a little saucy with me sometimes.' 

"You won't replace it because poor Joel here keeps fixing it for free." Eliza teased and Joel scratched the back of his neck nervously as he replied. 

"Well not completely free." He chuckled "She sends me away with weeks worth of food." 

"You're too skinny." Gloria chuffed "No girls gonna want to marry a man with no meat on his bones." 

Joel chuckled at the older woman's statement before looking back at Eliza who was grinning at him as she practically fluttered her thick black lashes at him.  

"Well, I need to get to that meeting I was talking about." Stated Joel as he coughed nervously. 

"Don't forget to pop by later for your food!" Gloria ordered as she watched him collect his tools "I made you my famous jerk chicken with rice... peas on the side." She finished with a wink.

"Why on the side?" Eliza asked and Gloria simply rolled her eyes as she said.

"Boy don't like them mixed in." 

Eliza mouthed an 'ooooooh' before watching as Joel started to leave. 

"I'll see you later to grab that food." 

"Or I could bring it by?" Eliz suggested, "You give me your address and I can swing by and drop it off when you're home."

"Oh that's-"

"Ah, splendid idea." Gloria interrupted, leaving Joel looking like a fish out of water "Don't worry dear, I'll give her your address. Get her to drop it by around 9. You're normally home then, right?"

"Right but-"

"9 it is now you best get going or y'all be late." Said Gloria as she practically herded Joel out the door. Leaving him speechless when he made it back to his truck. 

What an earth just happened?

...

The restaurant that Simon had brought you to was nice. Not too fancy but not exactly a dive either. Conversations had been a little awkward at first. You'd not really been on many dates but after being honest with Simon about your lack of dating experiences, he put you at ease and now after one glass of wine and a very large meal, the two of you were chuckling away as subjects came easier to you both.  

"So how long have you worked for Mr Miller?" You asked as you sipped at your second glass of wine. Simon had already been at the company when you had started and was a few years older than you and Joel. 

"More or less straight outa of high school." He replied as he took a swig of his soft drink "Have always been good with my hands so when Cole put up an advert for an apprentice I marched myself over to his office and waited till he got back to speak to him..." 

"Wow." You chuckled around the rim of your glass. 

"Guy liked my tenacity. Offered me the job on the spot." 

"Well, you know my story so..." You trailed off, smiling sweetly at him as he grinned at you.

"So glad you agreed to come out with me." Simon confessed, his cheeks tinging pink "Been wantin' to ask you out a while but didn't outa respect for Joel, but can only wait so lo-"

"What do you mean, out of respect for Joel?" You asked and Simon's expression took on one of a deer caught in headlights.

"Well... with him being into you and all." Simon clarified and your brows drew together as you shook your head.

"Joel isn't into me." You pushed and Simon grew more uncomfortable with each passing moment. 

"He's been crushin' on you more or less from day dot." Your date continued when he saw you needed further clarity "We've always teased him for it but he never made a move so I thought, you know, with him not trying to date you it'd be okay for me to." 

You weren't sure what to do with the information you'd just received. For years now you had pushed your feelings down for Joel because you believed he didn't return them. So to learn that he might really put a spammer in the works for you. 

The subject moved on after that but the atmosphere wasn't as relaxed. After Simon dropped you home, you allowed what he'd told you to run on repeat in your brain. Keeping you from getting to sleep until late that night. Yet, you came to a decision before you finally drifted off. You were going to go to Joel's in the morning and ask him.  

You had to be sure.  

...

Joel wasn't surprised when there was a knock at his door at 9 pm sharp. He opened the door to see a beaming Eliza on the other side, her arms full of food containers. 

"Shit, come in." Joel said before grabbing a few containers to ease the load. "Let me take some of those." 

"Auntie G likes to feed you huh?" She chuckled as she followed Joel into his kitchen. 

"I had to buy a second freezer." Joel stated and Eliza barked out a laugh, taking Joel by surprise. 

"She's always been a feeder." She chuckled before placing the food down beside where Joel had put the other containers "Think it's a Caribbean thing."

Joel chuckled before turning to face his guest. 

"Thank you for dropping this by. You really didn't have to go through all the trouble."

"It's not trouble is I offer." Eliz chuckled and Joel chuckled at her reply. 

"Either way... that you for bringing the insane amount of food your aunt,

made me over."

"You are quite welcome." Eliza replied as she placed herself within kissing distance of him "I wanted to see you again anyway." 

Joel blushed at her statement. Taken aback by how forward she was then, in what felt like the blink of an eye, she was kissing him. Starting softly and gradually growing hotter as tongues tangled. 

"I uh... I feel like I should tell you that I'm kinda getting over someone so I'm not looking for anything serious right now," Joel stated and Eliza chuckled. 

"Who said I wanted anything serious either?" She whispered against his lips "I think I can be of great help... assisting you in getting over whoever this person is." 

Joel looked into Eliza's eyes a moment, trying to discern her endgame. Then, when he was sure that she was being honest with him he kissed her again. The food is forgotten as clothes are discarded in a breadcrumb trail to his bedroom. 

... 

You let out a steadying breath before knocking on Joel's door. Your slightly shaky left hand clutching the to-go coffee tray that contained your and Joel's favourite coffees. You chuckled when you heard Joel inside, calling out to wait a moment before suddenly opening the door, looking rather flustered. 

"Pip." He said as his expression turned from surprised to confused "What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you about something." You replied with a smile "I brought you a coffee. Mind if I come in?"

"Now's not a great time... what was it you wanted to talk about?" He replied nervously, smiling awkwardly as you handed him the coffee. 

"It's just about something Simon told me on our date last night." You chuckled "You see he said that you have-"

"Who's this?" Asked a woman that you didn't recognise, dressed in a shirt you assumed was Joel's and nothing else. Her brown skin glowing in the early morning light. 

"Oh, I didn't realise you had company." You said awkwardly as you started to take a few steps backwards "I'll um... I'll see you Monday." You choked as you fought to keep your tears at bay, but in doing so you missed the step down and went tumbling onto your backside. Your coffee going all over your arm. 

"Shit... Pip, are you okay?" Joel shrieked as he leapt towards you, stopping dead when you held your hand up to stop him... 

"Fine... I'm fine."

"That coffee'll be skalding." He said as he took another ginger step towards you "We need to get your arm under some cold water or else it'll blister." 

"Please just let me go." You choked, your resolve crumbling under the weight of your sadness and embarrassment "I... I just need to go." You affirmed and Joel nodded, giving you a small smile before stepping back into the threshold of his home "Bye Joel."

The older Miller brother watched with concern etched into his features as you left. Glancing at Eliza who was watching you and looking equally worried. 

"You think she's okay?" She asked and all Joel could do was shake his head as he replied. 

"I don't know."

...

You spent the rest of the weekend dreading Monday morning. You felt like such a fool going over to Joels to, you had hoped, profess your love but instead, you had fallen ass over tit in front of him and his date and burned yourself in the process. Said injury was now wrapped in gauze and throbbing with each knock and graze of your arm on your desk. You had spent the morning wishing you lived somewhere colder so you could hide your accident. 

But alas, it's 100 degrees outside and you were forced to wear a short-sleeved blouse. The air-con once again broke at the most inconvenient moment.

"Morning Pip." Said Joel as he stepped into view, placing your coffee down as he did every morning. 

"Morning." You replied, not takimg your eyes off your computer screen. 

"How's the arm?" He asked upon seeing the brilliant white bandage wrapped around it. 

"Killing me." You answered shortly, still not looking at the man who was desperately trying to pry any form of conversation out of you. 

After a long, heavy pause, Joel spoke again. His question finally tearing your eyes away from your monitor. 

"Did I do or say something to upset you?" He asked, his signature kicked puppy look making your stomach twist.

"No." You answered simply and he nodded. 

"What was it that you wanted to talk to me about?" He asked and your brows drew together "On Saturday... you said you needed to talk to me." He clarified "Said Simon had told you something on your date."

"Doesn't matter now." You bluntly replied before returning to the email you'd been writing before. 

"Seemed important then." 

"Well, it isn't now." You growled, your tone stopping the conversation dead.

"Okay." He couldn't hide how your aggressive tone wounded him. He didn't understand why you were suddenly so cold towards him. What could he have possibly done? 

He opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by Simon as he blasted into the office. 

"Morning Boss!" He said chirpily before turning his attention to you "Morning beautiful."

"Morning" you replied with a smile that he returned tenfold. 

"Fancy going out with me again on Friday?" He asked and you nodded without hesitation "Great!... see you later beautiful."

You grinned at Simon as he left. Not seeing Joel's crestfallen expression.

Perhaps he did need Eliza. 

Next

For updates follow @albertasunrise-ficsblog

[sevault-canyon]

no, miss appleton did not single-handedly ruin japanese soy sauce forever

there's a popular post going around this week about a ghq (general headquarters, the administration of the american occupation of japan after wwii) employee, a certain ms. blanche appleton, single-handedly changing the taste of soy sauce. while her story is fascinating for sure and i await further developments on the part of the op, and had a hand in the history of soy sauce, the premise is quite a bit exaggerated, and the general narrative so far in the framing by the op somewhat problematic.

tl;dr: as with most things, this is a confluence of factors, with producers, scientists, politicians, (possibly underworld,) and administrators all having their own agency in this story. i find it unusual to sideline so many parties in favour of presenting a single foreign administrator calling the shots in the op's posts.

i've made an initial response here. i will continue my findings in a separate post here.

1. jack daniel's is swill, but it's still whiskey

i think i can distill my issues with this plot so far down to one statement in the original post:

There should be records of her policies, there should be legal documents in America which record how she apportioned out American exportation of soy beans to Japan, there should be sources talking about this woman's ability to transform Japan's soy sauce production so heavily that today only 1% of all soy sauce is made with pre-WW2 traditional techniques.

this transformative impact of one administrator is entirely overstated. this comment led me to a promo blog post where some of the original claims can be seen, and the op mentions that traditional soy sauce was made in kioke barrels, and the this method of production has dropped to about 1% now. this is true, but it appears that at least one source put the decline as starting around the end of the edo period (xvii-xix centuries). [1] sources traceable to yamaroku puts the decline more recently, at about a century ago [2, 3]

this japanese paper on fermented food production is quite clear in stating that wodden barrel production declined from the meiji period (1868-1912) onward.

江戸時代までに一般化した木桶・木樽の使用形態は、明治期以降、一般の生活や各種製造現場で近代化が進む中、コンクリートや金属、プラスチック、合成樹脂等の材質によって代替されていく。 The use of wooden vats and barrels, which had become common by the Edo period, was replaced by materials such as concrete, metal, plastic, and synthetic resin from the Meiji period onward, as modernization progressed in ordinary life and various manufacturing sites. (deepL translation)

another source from a professor on food production in japan suggests that shodoshima (where yamaroku is made) is the area that has most completely preserved the wooden vat method of production.

this survey (oguri) written by a member of the national museum of nature of science in tokyo dates the supplanting of traditional method in more industrialized regions by 1913

1913（大正2）年：栂野は「最新醤油醸造論」の中で、九州、中国地方では桶の代わりに煉瓦又は石でタンクを作り使用していると記述。 1913 (Taishō 2): Tsugano, in his "The Latest Soy Sauce Brewing Theory," wrote that in Kyushu and Chugoku regions, instead of vats, tanks were made of bricks or stone and used. (deepL translation, p.148)

1918年：西二の蔵（ヤマサ印）の建設に当たり研究中の内面塗料が完成したので、これを採用し仕込桶を角型のコンクリートタンクに改めた。 1918: The internal [coating] that was being researched for the construction of the Nishi Ni no Kura (Yamasa brand) was completed, and this was adopted and the brewing vats were replaced with square concrete tanks. (deepL translation with edits from @literaryreference, see translator's note 3, p.148)

i think it bears repetition that soy sauce production was industrializing as japan was industrializing from the meiji to early shōwa periods. as alluded to in the title, a lot of modern soy sauce is like jack daniels: industrial products that evolved from traditional methods alongside a nation's overall development.

2. babe wake up, a new semichemical soy sauce just dropped, and appleton's role in history (a corroboration of @/inneskeeper)

it seems like the plot on the original poster's part has gone to the american side, so let's try to follow the us-japan interaction but from japanese sources.

the survey cited earlier (oguri) has a lot of information that supports the original post. blanche appleton did exist, and does appear in more anecdotes from that era of the soy sauce industry.

(also, this bibliography has more sources on her time in japan, will require institutional access to japanese universities)

to start, there are two methods of semichemical soy sauce production. the first, 新式1号法 shinshiki 1-gō method (i will call it sc1) was invented in the taishō era (1912-26).

大正の末期頃になると、酸やアルカリの化学薬品を併用することによって、速醸の目的を達成しようとする研究が盛んに行われ、その代表的な「新式1号」が出現する。 Toward the end of the Taisho era, there was a flurry of research into the use of acid and alkali chemicals in combination to achieve the goal of fast brewing, and the "Shinshiki No. 1" [sc1] appeared as a representative example of such research. (deepL translation, p.158)

in the time immediately after the war, there was a shortage of supplies, and its allocation was controlled by the americans

駐留軍の総司令部 GHQ（General Head Quarter）は、1948年の春調味料の原料として「エロア資金」（占領地域経済復興資金）により、大豆ミール2万tを放出する方針を打ち出した。このことにより、その配分をめぐって醤油業界とアミノ酸業界は熾烈な競争をすることとなる。 The General Head Quarter (GHQ) of the stationed army announced a policy of releasing 20,000 tons of soybean meal as a raw material for seasonings in the spring of 1948 through the EROA (Economic Rehabilitation in Occupied Area) Fund. This led to fierce competition between the soy sauce and amino acid industries for its allocation. (deepL translation with edits by myself, p.159)

the "amino acid industry" mentioned refers to the monosodium glutamate (msg) industry (glutamate is the ion of an amino acid). essentially, in the early 20th century, both msg and soy sauce (and chemical "soy sauce") production methods have converged to all requiring many soybeans due to their protein content and fermentation properties.

this is where appleton makes her entrance:

GHQは両業界の調整窓口として、「経済安定本部」の経済科学局で調味料と乳製品の需給を担当していたミセス・ブランシェ・アップルトンをその任にあてた。アップルトンは、醤油醸造協会の茂木啓三郎とアミノ酸業界の大内鋼太郎を招いて意見を聴��し、原料の配分を「醸造醤油2、アミノ酸業界8」とすることを内定し、上司のマーカット局長に報告した。この報告内容は醸造醤油にとっては死活問題であったが、内定の根拠は次のようなものであった。 GHQ assigned Ms. Blanche Appleton, who was in charge of the supply and demand of seasonings and dairy products in the Economic and Science Section of the "Economic Stability Headquarters," (?) to serve as the coordinating contact between the two industries. Appleton invited Keizaburo Mogi of the Soy Sauce Brewers Association and Kotaro Ouchi of the amino acid industry to hear their opinions, and informally decided that the distribution of raw materials would be two for brewing soy sauce and eight for the amino acid industry, and reported this to her boss, Maj. Gen. W. F. Marquat. The content of this report was a matter of life and death for brewers' soy sauce, but the rationale for the informal decision was as follows. [...] (deepL translation with edits by myself p.159)

essentially, appleton originally intended for only 20% of the soybean meal to be handed out for soy sauce due to its relatively inefficient usage of materials compared to msg production. this would've crippled the existing soy sauce producers, and they set out to find solutions to save their industry.

醸造醤油側は、醸造醤油の「日本人の食生活における重要性や醸造醤油そのものの品質の良さ」等を強調したが、GHQはただ「脱脂大豆が有効に活用されるのはどちらか」という尺度だけで判断したのである。このような醸造醤油の存亡の危機を救ったのは、もくもくと研究に携わっていた技術陣が開発した「新式2号法」であった。本法を発明したのはキッコーマンの館野正淳、梅田勇雄等である。新式2号の製法は新式1号と同様に、蛋白質を弱酸でペプトンやペプチド程度まで分解し、その後は麹の酵素により分解してアミノ酸の形態まで持っていく半化学、半醸造による醤油の製造法である。 The brewing soy sauce side emphasized the importance of brewing soy sauce in the Japanese diet and the quality of the soy sauce itself, but GHQ made its decision based solely on the basis of "which [industry] would use the defatted soybeans more effectively". What saved brewed soy sauce from the brink of extinction was the "New Formula No. 2 method" developed by the technical staff who had been working diligently on the research. The inventors of this method were Masajun Tateno and Isao Umeda of Kikkoman Corporation. As with Shin-Shiki No. 1 [sc1], the Shin-Shiki No. 2 [sc2] method is a semi-chemical, semi-brewing method for producing soy sauce in which proteins are broken down to peptones and peptides with weak acids, and then decomposed by enzymes from koji mold to the form of amino acids. (deepL translation with edits by myself and @literaryreference, see translator's note 4, p.159)

this development, the invention of the 新��2号法 shinshiki 2-gō method (sc2), led to another round of discussions:

ミセス・アップルトンは「キッコーマンが画期的な技術を開発した」ことを聞き、新法による醤油とアミノ酸液による化学醤油を消費者に提示し、その調査結果に基づいて決定を再考しようと上申書を提出した。醤油の 味、使用テストは神奈川県の鎌倉市と逗子で行われたが、消費者の8割が新法による醤油を支持した。この結果に基づき、アップルトンは両業界で話し合って結論を出すように「正田・大内会談」を開かせた。 Mrs. Appleton heard that "Kikkoman had developed a breakthrough technology" and submitted a petition to reconsider her decision based on the results of a survey that presented consumers with both the new method of soy sauce and a chemical soy sauce made with amino acid solution. Taste and use tests of soy sauce were conducted in Kamakura and Zushi, Kanagawa Prefecture, and 80% of consumers supported the new soy sauce. Based on these results, Appleton had the "Shoda-Ouchi Conference" held so that the two industries could discuss and reach a conclusion. (deepL translation, p.160)

this source seems to suggest that the original decision was under higher-ups' pressure:

当初の提案2対8のアミノ酸業界絶対優位の配分比率は、「新式2号法」の出現により、最終的にGHQは「正田・大内会談」の「7対3協定」を認め、ここに醸造醤油の歴史的危機は回避されることとなった。醤油業界のミセス・アップルトンの評価は従来大変厳しいものであったが、後の調査で彼女は醸造醤油の良き理解者であり、当初の配分比率も上司の強い指示に抗しきれず提案したものであったようである。再度の上申は、彼女の日本の伝統的な醸造醤油への深い理解と思い入れによるものであったと考えられる。 As for the proposed allocation of 2 to 8, due to the [sc2] method, GHQ ended up deciding on the “7 to 3 Agreement” from the “Shoda-Ouchi Conference” instead, thus averting the historical crisis of brewed soy sauce.Although the soy sauce industry had been very critical of Mrs. Appleton in the past, later investigations revealed that she was a firm supporter* of brewed soy sauce and that the original allocation ratio was a proposal she made because she could not resist the strong instructions of her superiors. It is believed that her renewed offer was due to her deep understanding of and commitment to the Japanese tradition of brewed soy sauce. (deepL translation with edits from myself and @blackamite, see translators' note 1, p. 160)

the term 良き理解者 "good friend" (see bolded) i think could mean connoisseur or enjoyer here, will need help in clarifying.

その後醤油醸造協会の正田会長は、1948（昭和23）年7月23日に「新式2号法」の特許公開を懇請し、当時の中野社長の決断により、「新式1号」に続いて「新式2号」についても無償で業界に公開されることとなった。同年8月から講習会が全国12ブロックで開催され、約2,500社の業者が技術を習得した。 Later, on July 23, 1948, Mr. Shoda, president of the Soy Sauce Brewers Association, requested that the patent for the [sc2 method] be made public, and following the decision of then [Kikkoman Inc.] President Nakano, the [sc1 and sc2 methods] were made public free of charge to the industry. In August of the same year, training sessions were held in 12 blocks throughout Japan, and approximately 2,500 companies learned the technology. (deepL translation with edits by myself, p.160)

the main sources the survey used are a manuscript, 醤油醸造技術の近代化 by 永瀬一郎 Ichirō Nagase, kikkoman inc.'s own historical record (キッコーマン株式会社八十年史; a shorter version can be found here), and a history of choshi shoyu inc. (銚子醤油株式会社　社史). i think this confirms a lot of information the original post put out there about ms. appleton and her involvement with soy sauce. plus, it shed more light into how exactly she interacted with the condiment industries.

perhaps @/inneskeeper will find some shady dealings in their research; when you mix a foreign military force, the collapse of existing institutions, and social upheaval, you're likely to find corruption. ill keep my eyes peeled for that development.

3. no, kikkoman is not "fake" soy sauce, but you might be able to find some echoes of the past

so what happened to semichemical soy sauce now? the survey document does not track its usage after its invention and at the surface level, it seems that the original claim was right, the semichemical method has persisted since the american occupation and we're all just drinking sussy sauce.

in fact, this seemed so obvious that this rumour circulated in japan and was debunked by aficionados two years ago.

the link to kikkoman's own record earlier states that sc2 sauce was discontinued in 1970, and the japanese blog post above repeats that, adding that it has reverted back to honjōzō (本醸造) sauce. this paper in the journal of the brewing society of japan (日本醸造協会誌) has this to say about what became of sc2 sauce:

また，キッコーマンの新式 2号しょうゆ製造法の特許が公開されたのも 1948年で， しょうゆ業界は混合醸造しょうゆおよび混合しょうゆを製造することにより効率よく旨味の強いしょうゆを安価に製造し， しょうゆ原料不足の時代を乗り切ったと考えている 。現在，大手メーカーでは食の安全性や本物志向から混合醸造しょうゆおよび混合しょうゆの製造をやめ本醸造しょうゆだけを製造している 。一方，全国の中小しょうゆメーカーでは，製造設備を全て本醸造しょうゆに切 り換える資金力に乏しく．一旦，消費者に定着した混合しょうゆのニーズにより本醗造しょうゆに切り換えることが出来ず，現在も混合しょうゆが主力商品となっているのではないかと考えている 。 The patent for Kikkoman's new [sc2] soy sauce manufacturing method was also published in 1948, which allowed the soy sauce industry to overcome the shortage of raw materials for soy sauce by producing mixed brewed soy sauce and mixed soy sauces efficiently and inexpensively. Currently, major soy sauce manufacturers have stopped producing mixed brewed soy sauce and mixed soy sauce, and are producing only honjozo soy sauce, due to food safety and the desire for authenticity. On the other hand, small and medium-sized soy sauce manufacturers nationwide do not have the financial resources to convert all of their production facilities to honjozo soy sauce. Once a demand for mixed soy sauce has taken root among consumers, they are unable to switch over to honjōzō soy sauce, and even now, it's possible mixed [kongō or kongō-jōzō] soy sauce might be the top [soy sauce] product. (deepL translation with edits from myself and @literaryreference, see translator's note 2, p.78)

the three types of japanese soy sauce production methods available today are honjōzō (本醸造, fully fermented), kongō-jōzō (混合醸造, mixed fermented with amino acid added prior to fermentation, closest to sc2 method), and kongō (混合, one of the previous two types with additives). [wiki, academic source] these production methods are in parallel to the traditional varieties of sauce, which rather describe the mash and added taste; these elements of the production, rather than the fermentation process, are usually what define the lineage of the sauce in both japan and other soy sauce-producing cultures.

instead of supplanting "genuine" fermented soy sauce, the industrial descendants of sc2 sauce have become their own type of sauce and have carved their own niches in the consumer market. as someone who is not from japan, i would be careful about making any judgment on whether it is "authentic".

4. clarifications

there were a few statements by the original poster that i think need further context for a more accurate understanding. any bolding and italics are mine.

During World War 2 there was a push to industrialize the Japanese soy sauce industry to be better for mass-production. This innovated the chemical fermentation technique and the semichemical fermentation technique utilized by Kikkoman; rather than ferment for four years in gigantic cedar barrels, kioke, instead fermentation takes place for six months or a year in stainless steel barrels which utilize electrolysis to artificially speed up fermentation processes.

the first part is correct, but the word "rather" introduces a false dichotomy; soy sauce production is very diverse and progresses at different paces in different regions (see part 1 of this post). the sauce op has is simply one from a region that has kept their manufacturing method unchanged.

"four years" is arbitrary: different producers have different fermentation periods.

the last part of the statement is not universally true of industrial production; ac current may be used in brewing.

A single American woman named "Ms Appleton" was given total control of apportioning all American soy bean rations to companies, how much, and to who. She had no knowledge of soy sauce, allegedly.

we can lay that last part to rest. it appears that she does. i will also have to mention that "soy sauce" has been imported from china to the usa since the 30s.

She apparently had so much power over Japanese soy sauce production that she could singlehandedly shape its future by threatening to not give soy beans to any company, family, or factory which did not utilize her specific requirements of semichemical fermentation (reduced from chemical fermentation, since it was that abhorrent). These days, the term soy sauce is distinct from traditional shoyu, and requires distinguishment because of such a radical difference the two products are.

is girlboss applesauce really that powerful on her own? this statement was not wrong, but she did have the military that just nuked japan behind her.

did appleton specify one method over others? probably, but i think the dependency went the other way: the invention of sc2 sauce was the only way the industry could be efficient enough for ghq standards.

that last part is just straight up wrong dawg what the hell i was nicer in my first reply but im not feeling it today

[...] Because there should be way more information on her if this was the case; she was apparently powerful and influential enough during the occupation that she could singlehandedly enforce whatever arbitrary rules she wanted on the soy sauce industry and they had to comply or else have no product at all. That level of power is fucking insane. Imagine having so much raw influence over Japan that you could order them to completely renovate and change how they produce and make SOY SAUCE, literally one of if not THE most important thing in Japanese culinary history--[...]

holy exaggeration batman, this is almost insulting. as with most things, this is a confluence of factors, with producers, scientists, politicians, (possibly underworld,) and administrators all having their own agency in this story. it is incredibly unusual to sideline so many parties in favour of a single foreign administrator calling the shots.

5. what now?

i think there's much to be found out about appleton's dealings, and it would be an interesting story if there did end up being underworld dealings in those negotiations coming to light. i think it is a fascinating slice into that era and how society and institutions interacted in such a fraught situation. overall, i encourage @/inneskeeper's historian work.

that said, it is very important for people to not put a narrative ahead of the facts. i think it is human nature to be attracted to stories that have a clear causality and linearity, but it is something we need to be very careful about when communicating history to a large audience. to anyone who would like to present their findings, consider what your framing of events imply about the state of the time and place you research, and if you are doing all parties justice.

and for the love of god, cite your sources.

if there are any translation issues, please reach out to me and i will edit accordingly and post errata.

erratum 1: jack daniel's is tennesee whiskey, not bourbon, thanks @drdementogrl.

translators' note 1: 良き理解者 could also be translated more literally to “good understander,” thank you @blackamite, @monstrousgourmandizingcats, @leatherbookmark, and others who have given similar notes.

erratum 2 and translator's note 2: @literaryreference has indicated that 一旦，消費者に定着した混合しょうゆのニーズにより本醗造しょうゆに切り換えることが出来ず，現在も混合しょうゆが主力商品となっているのではないかと考えている 。 is more equivocal and did not state an outright larger popularity for kongō/kongō-jōzō type brewing, so it's possible it might be the top product. they also suggested removing redundancies and pointed out a copying mistake from the original source (left out a bit of the japanese text).

translator's note 3: @literaryreference let me know that 塗料 would more accurately be interpreted as "coating" and also gave me a link of the sauce brand mentioned.

translator's note 4: @literaryreference has provided a better translation for GHQはただ「脱脂大豆が有効に活用されるのはどちらか」という尺度だけで判断したのである, and i have made edits from their translation as well for better context.

[hasufin]

Correspondence Trap

You will end up in the Pentagon parking lot.

This is a basic truth of the DC area. Eventually you will end up in the Pentagon parking lot. It will be 3am, you're just trying to get home from clubbing, for some damned reason you missed the turn to cross the river, and now there's a guy who looks way too young carrying an M4 asking you what you're doing.

Thing is, he's used to it. He knows. He doesn't know why - and honestly they probably select guards for their lack of curiosity. But you're not the first person to get lost and end up there that night, and you will not be the last.

Now, someone might tell you this is because the Pentagon is right next to two of the only bridges from DC across the Potomac, or because the signage in DC is actively terrible. And these are true. But that's not the underlying reason.

To understand, you have to look at the history.

Now, you might wonder why of all shapes, the biggest office building in the world is a pentagon. The reason is that it wasn't supposed to be built there. It was supposed to be built on this weird-shaped plot of land out by Dulles. It was a hasty construction project during WWII with all sorts of contract weirdness, and the land purchase fell through, so they switched to another site. But it was too late to change the plans for the building, so they built that weird-shaped building in the wrong location. And then later they built 395, which isn't just an awful highway but - with its left and right exits much too close to each other - terribly dangerous.

But it's worse. It goes back further. See, the Pentagon is built on an island.

"But wait!" you say "It's not an island! I can see it on a map!" and you're right, but also wrong. It's right on the delta, so it is - or was - an intertidal island. That is, when the tide is in, it's an island, and when the tide is out, it's a peninsula. but it would be stupid to have such an important building separate by water, so they infilled and it's a peninsula.

And this makes it even weirder. Because the Pentagon is on the Virginia side of the Potomac, but it has a DC address.

And to make sense of that, you have to go even further back. See, the land grant for Maryland extends to the middle of the Potomac river, but for Virginia only reaches the shore of the Potomac. Legally this means the islands in the river are part of Maryland. And this intertidal island was... confusing. There were lawsuits. This also means that further South there is a bridge which goes from Maryland to Virginia, and half of the bridge is technically in DC in spite of neither endpoint of the bridge being in DC.

And, if you know DC, you can see how this is terrifyingly confusing. The Federal District was a square - diamond shape, on the map - ten miles on each side, taken from Virginia and Maryland, straddling the Potomac. After a few decades, because they wanted to sell slaves in Arlington, the land from Virginia was retroceded back. Which, again, caused confusion as they couldn't decide if that intertidal island was in DC or Virginia. Again, there were lawsuits. But the outcome of those lawsuits only decided specific matters and neither fully resolved the underlying issues, nor do they reflect later construction; this has never been fully resolved.

So let me round that up for you.

The Pentagon is a weird building which was put in the wrong place.

It's on an island which is also a peninsula.

It may be in DC, Virginia, or Maryland.

I believe in constructing the Pentagon they broke geometry, and it became a place where Lost Things end up.

You will find yourself in the Pentagon parking lot. This is a truth of the DC area.

[the-forbidden-pookie]

Unknown motives

Tw: SFW, written with a fem reader in mind, attempt at comedy, fluff with a dash of something else, slight use of profanity, reader is short for plot reasons.

Pairing: Anton Ivanov x reader

#Free Palestine🇵🇸

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Sorry," the large man says as he approaches you "I got held up by this strange guy asking if I wanted to play cards or something on my way here... Hm? You haven't started interviewing our president yet, have you? Don't forget to lower the mic stand a bit."

You blink up at him in surprise, and suppress an eye roll. You can't help it, everything about him was giving... the same vibe you see in the old capital era movies, the frat boy types. Still, you respond cordially enough "Huh? Oh you mean the reporter lady from earlier? No she left already, I'm the new part timer." You say confidently, deciding you'll end this conversation quickly if you looked sufficiently assertive. The work site was plenty noisy too, surely he'll get annoyed from talking out here soon enough.

The man's hand was on its way to the back of his head, his eyes trained away from you before he halts and looks back "A new part timer? Who the hell hired you?"

"I hired myself." You say simply.

"Ha, you hired yourself? Really now? And who made you think you were qualified enough to work here?"

You don't bother giving your real reasons "The field of construction calls for me." Is what you say instead.

"Calls for you, huh?" To your surprise , the man takes your words seriously, and you notice a name tag that introduces him as Senior Staff and On Site Project Manager Anton Ivanov. Wow, what a mouthful, no wonder he seems to know who exactly does and doesn't work here.

"You look like a runt... Can you handle the job? Do you even know how to tell apart a Gauging trowel from a Margin trowel?"

You blink owlishly back at him, startled out of your thoughts "A what now?"

"Exactly my point! How about I test you, then? First, go get me a torque wrench."

"Ahaha" you laugh awkwardly "Uh yup! I totally know what that is!" Why is there no connection in this place? I need to Google this! You panic internally.

"Oh really? Well then go get one. It's right by the tool box in the west warehouse." He points at said building "I'll be waiting here."

You quickly turn away before he sees your expression descend into panic "Mhm, be right back boss man!"

"Hah, what's with that look?... Wait... Hey! Come back here!"

You ignore him and use your small frame to your advantage and easily weave through construction workers left and right, most of them admittedly much bigger than you. Still, you disappear into the crowd and easily loose anyone trying to stop you. Once you make it to the warehouse, you go ask someone on duty about the tool, and find a bear gentleman squinting at a clipboard.

"Excuse me sir." You interrupt politely "The project manager sent me to grab a tool for him, can you tell me where-" you pause. What did he call it again? You stare at the fellow in front of you as he stares back. Once it became apparent you weren't going to finish the sentence any time soon, he points at a collection of crates in one section of the warehouse

"I'm busy so help yourself kid." He says, then leaves before you can correct him about you not being a kid.

Welp.

You go look though the crates, hoping any of them would be marked or named, and while some of them are, most of those are in Russian.

You don't speak Russian.

You sigh, and decide nothing will get done if you keep standing here, so you grab a random heavy tool, and lug it back to Anton, who surprisingly did wait for you where he said he would.

"I'm back! Did you miss me?" You pant from the exertion, trying to hide the toll this is taking on you with jest "Is- is this it?"

Anton looks dumbfounded for a moment before speaking "...That's a welder's mask, kid. The kind bear Thirens use."

You look down "So that's what the glass part is for... Hey I'm not a kid! You're just way too tall!"

Anton smirks, amused with your response "You're not a kid, huh? Then how old are you, shorty?"

You look away. "Hmph. You should never ask a lady about her age! It's improper!" You dodge the question. You may be an adult, but there's a non zero chance that once you show him your ID he thinks you're presenting him with a fake one and kick you out immediately. You'd rather not give him the chance. "So how do I go about properly signing up to join Belobog Heavy Industries anyway?"

Anton chuckles, seemingly getting a kick out of this "Ha! It's funny that a shorty like you can call herself a lady. You're barely at half my height. Anyways, if you wanna work here, I'll have to assess your experience and qualifications first."

You are certainly not looking forward to that.

"... Isn't there someone else that can do that...? Maybe someone I don't have to crane my neck all the way up just to look at their face?" You sweat drop.

Anton laughs, thoroughly enjoying this situation "Nope, not a chance. You're stuck with me, shorty. Now, quit complaining and tell me what you can do with those tiny arms of yours."

You crouch down and grab a random rock, then stack a few more on top of it. Once done you stand back up and point at your creation. "Construction...?"

Anton raises an eyebrow, looking the most baffled you've seen him all day, and that's saying something. He stares at your attempt before he lets out a disbelieving laugh "Construction? You call that... whatever it is, construction? I'm not sure if I should be impressed, concerned, or just downright baffled."

You don't hesitate "Which one's more likely to get me hired?"

"Anton crosses his arms, looking you up and down as he seriously consideres your question. His earnestness is starting to get to you.

"Hm, I suppose I'd be impressed, because it takes a lot of audacity to call that thing construction. So I'm going to give you a chance."

He grins slightly.

"Spend the day around the site today but don't go past any yellow lines without permission. If you still want to join us afterwards, come find me and my bro at the end of the day at my office. We'll discuss your new position in the company then, shorty."

You can't help it, caught off guard by his genuine offer, you let out a huge, surprised smile, no sarcasm or barbs in sight "Wait really?!"

You can vaguely tell Anton is taken aback by your response, but he quickly covers it up with a smirk "Of course. It'd be fun to have someone so short around here to tease, it's not like I can mess with the president after all." He says jokingly.

At your resulting glare, he chuckles and ruffles your hair with his large hand.

For a second, you feel dumbfounded at the overly familiar act, but you quickly regain your composure and push his hand away "Sorry head pats are reserved for friendship level 8 or higher."

"Oh? 8 or higher, huh? That's a pretty high number. I guess I'll have to work my way up to earn the privelage then.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the work day comes to a close, you make your way to Anton's office, directed by the scowling red head girl that often came to check on you throughout the day. She awkwardly waves off your genuine thanks.

I guess everyone here looks scary but is actually nice? You wonder.

"Hey there, shorty." Anton perks up from his slumped position as he sees you come in. You notice his desk and seat appear comically small when compared to his size, it doesn't help that the office room is rather cramped. "Did you have a fun day of "construction" today?"

You sigh "I tried to help, but everyone kept telling me I'd just get in the way." You say as you unceremoniously drop in a guest chair by his wooden desk "Please hurry up and give me an official position at the company."

Anton's smirk softens as he sees your dejected expression.

"Heh, I can see you really want to fit in here, huh? My bro and I really appreciate that kind of spirit. Alright, I'll do you a favor and give you an official position."

He seems to think for a moment before speaking "How about you become the company's official short stack? We do lack a mascot."

Your eye twitches involuntarily "My dude you are giving my fist an erection. Are you trying to get socked in the face?"

Anton doubles over his desk laughing, a full body laugh with his shoulders shaking and his mouth gasping for air. Well it was a very good line wasn't it? You inwardly give yourself a pat on the back for causing that reaction. Finally when the bursts of laughter subside and he can actually breathe again, the taller male leans down and gets close to your face with his signature smirk on.

"Ha! I'd like to see you try. Besides, you're too short to land a proper punch, anyway."

Anton's smirk fades into a more serious expression this time as he considers your question. He taps his chin in thought.

You deadpan. Bro cannot be acting all nonchalant after he almost went into cardiac arrest from your joke "Back on topic," you say impatiently "any real positions I can fill up?"

He looks you up and down for what feels like the millionth time this day, before speaking "If I'm being honest, the only jobs you could fit would probably be serving food at the cafeteria or maybe assisting in office work, hardly something that would feel like construction work."

"Hmm, let's see..."

You try not to pout "But just today I saw a girl shorter and definitely younger then me, she was working hands on and-"

"The president," Anton interrupts "has many years of experience, she also may not look it to your untrained eyes but she has a lot of practical muscles that make up for her size disadvantage."

You blanch That was the President?! I'd been calling her girlie-pop all day! I think I even called her pookie once?!

Suddenly, all the strange looks the staff were throwing you throughout the day made a lot more sense.

"That said..." Anton brings you back out of your thoughts "How about we start you off as an assistant? I'll have you work under me, and I'll show you the ropes around here, it would also count as a training period. If you prove yourself competent, I'll consider promoting you to an official position."

Your eyes gain a shine to them at the offer he went of his way to give, and you feel a bit remorseful at all the attitude you've been giving him "Wait, wouldn't that be troublesome for you?"

Anton shrugs lightly, that smirk returning to his face.

"Troublesome? Nah, I'd get a kick out of having a pipsqueak like you following me around. And who knows, maybe you can learn a thing or two from a professional like me." He says, pointing proudly at his chest.

You deadpan yet again. "I take back the good thoughts I started having of you, what was I thinking?" You tell him as you shake your head in mock despair.

Anton laughs at your blunt response, clearly enjoying the banter. "Ha! There's Shorty's short temper kicking in again. Come on, don't be so uptight . I'm just messin' with ya."

He grins widely, clearly finding this whole situation amusing. He then playfully ruffles your hair with his hand.

You push his hand away again "My head isn't for patting unless you're level 8 friendship I said!"

Anton laughs good naturedly, and obediently removes his hand.

"Ha! Still going on about that friendship level thing? Fine, I'll keep my hands to myself for now. But just know, I have plenty of other ways to bother you, Shorty."

"I've known you for only one day and yet I don't doubt that one bit."

Anton crosses his arms and leans against the nearby wall, looking down at you.

Still, you can't resist messing with him right back, so you get up and walk away "Nevermind I'll go see if the convenience store down the street is still hiring-"

"Oh, you have no idea. Stick around, shorty, and you'll see what I mean. You haven't experienced true torment yet." His voice has a teasing quality to it and you can tell he puts extra care in making that obvious to compensate for his naturally intimidating size and face.

Anton quickly scrambles off the wall and grabs your arm, halting your retreat "Oh no you don't. You're not getting out of this that easily." He smirks, as if he wasn't floundering less then a second ago. His grip on your arm is gentle yet unrelenting "You're stuck with me, Shorty. You already accepted the job as my assistant, remember? You can't back out now."

You sigh dramatically, and hear as Anton laughs at your theatrics. You then remember the two of you haven't properly introduced yourselves to each other yet "I guess I have to be a woman of my word." You say in mock reluctance as he lets go of your arm "It's a little late, but my name is Y/n by the way, L/n Y/n. What's yours?"

His smirk slowly fades into a genuine smile "Oh, we never did properly introduce ourselves, huh? Hah, guess we were so busy bickering we forgot about the formalities." He extends his hand for a handshake "Name's Anton Ivanov. Remember that, ok Shorty?"

You grasp his hand, his grip strong and sturdy "Like I said, my name's Y/n. Since we're on the more serious topics, is there a contract I need to sign or am I in a trial period for now?"

Anton shakes your hand gently before responding, seemingly very aware of how much bigger his hand is as it is engulfs yours. If you didn't know better you'd think he's nervous to accidentally hurt you. "Yeah trial period's a fitting name, and no contract signings just yet. We'll see how you do working under me before we worry about paperwork. So, Shorty, are you ready to get started as my assistant?"

"How early does the work day start here?" You ask, forcefully dragging your eyes away after they started staring at his chest a bit too long. You can't help it tho! It's more comfortable for your neck to stare at that region!

Anton scratches his chin thoughtfully, considering your question and blissfully unaware of your internal turmoil.

"Hmm, work usually starts around 6 in the morning. We like to get an early start here at Belobog. Why do you ask?"

You gulp "Wow, bright and early with the sunrise huh?"

Anton valiantly tries to suppress a chuckle at your reaction. He fails, but you suppose it's the effort that counts.

"Yep, bright and early. We don't like to waste time around here. And hey, don't worry about adjusting to the early hours, you'll get used to it soon enough, shorty."

"I sure hope so." You sweat drop, then your eyes drift to the arm sized device strapped to his arm. "Is that the main tool you use?" You motion with your chin towards the machine he still has strapped to his arm despite the work day being already over.

Anton follows your gaze, and he brightens considerably at your question. "This is my bro, it's a pile driver." He says seriously, and it doesn't take long to realize he's not joking.

He grins, looking down at his arm-mounted weapon affectionately "My bro and I go way back, and it got my back in both work and combat." He says proudly.

"I guess you could say it is, in a way, like family. It's been with me through a lot."

He pats the pile driver, a fond look in his eyes.

Your eyes soften "Well, can't wait to see you and your bro in action once I officially start!" You exclaim, mentally cataloguing the pile driver as Anton's Emotional Support Companion in you head.

"So, I hear Belobog Industries has dorms for all staff members, are newbies like me included or do I need to find my own lodgings around here?" You change the subject, because while you didn't mind hearing more about Anton and getting to know him better, you did still have an objectif in coming here "I wanna know if I'll need to make moving arrangement soon."

Anton's grin widens at your enthusiasm and what he reads as genuine interest in the company.

"Ha! That eager to get in on the action, huh?" he guesses "You're going to fit right in here."

He pats your head lightly, and you're starting to understand it's meant to be a playful gesture rather than a condescending or even teasing one.

"And don't worry about lodging. We provide dorms for all staff members, including newbies like you. You don't need to worry about finding a place to stay."

"Well that's convenient," you say as you bat his arm away, almost by reflex now "I guess I better go get my stuff sorted by tomorrow then." You say as you shift to get going, before a loud bang outside Anton's office door startles you both, and a tall woman comes barreling in.

"Anton!" She all but shouts "I got it! I cracked the code uncle Khors left behind!"

Next to you, Anton is initially startled by the sudden entrance, but he soon regains his composure. He throws a look at you, as if making sure you're not scared off by the taller woman's antics, then turns back to her, his face a mixture of surprise and curiosity.

"Grace? You cracked the code? That's great, but we need to tell the president before you -"

But this Grace person is no longer listening, as her attention is now in on you "Huh, I didn't know it was bring your kid to work day? Wait who's kid is this?"

You deadpan "For the last time. I'm an adult."

At your claim, she looks you up and down and it's quite obvious she doesn't believe you. "A highschooler maybe." She murmurs under her breath.

Anton quickly interjects before she can say more, and you can hear the hint of annoyance in his voice as he speaks "Grace, Y/n's not a high schooler..."

You finally sigh and take out your ID card, at least Anton seemed to believe you so you didn't think he'd take it for a fake ID.

"Oh you poor thing!" The woman says after thoroughly comparing your face to the image on the card "who malnourished you?"

"I'm not malnourished." You say with a tired sigh, but it's not like you can explain your situation, so you don't think you come off as very believable.

Anton gives Grace a sarcastic look as she tries to save her mistake. He rolls his eyes, but a small smile still forms on his face.

"Well!" Grace says "Whatever you two are discussing can wait, let's get her to the cafeteria before it closes, someone is in desperate need of a big meal-" At Anton's warning look, Grace amends "Uhh that person being Anton! A bear sized fellow like him definitely needs to eat lots!"

"Nice save there, Grace. Real subtle."

I don't know what these two's relationship is, but they seem close. You wonder internally.

And as Anton glances at you, it seems he misreads your pondering expression as one of doubt about yourself because he says: "Don't you worry, Shorty. You're fine. I've met actual malnourished people, and trust me, you're in the clear."

...why is he such a green flag?! You have to admit to yourself it'd be quite the shame if he is dating Grace.

"But it's true that we're all hungry" Anton continues while nodding "Grace is right, and let me tell you, the cafeteria food here is really good. I wouldn't want you to miss out on it, shorty."

You nod back, liking the idea "Alrighty then, please lead the way." You go for a polite voice but at Grace's giggle you wonder if you over did it.

Anton grins and gestures for both of you to follow him.

"Aight, I'll show you the way to the cafeteria."

He starts walking and motions for you and Grace to fall in step beside him.

Grace starts telling you both all about the mysterious code the former president of Belobog Industries had left behind, and while fairly sure the information should remain confidential, it wasn't like you could stop the woman on her tirade, you notice Anton doesn't even try.

Then again, they probably think I haven't a single clue of what she's talking about.

As the three of you near what you assume is the cafeteria, Grace stops dead in her tracks. "Oh gosh I'm so sorry, I know I was the one that suggested coming here but I just got an alert and I need to go back and check on my children!" Grace exclaims showing a notification with a warning symbol for an icon. By children, you figure she's talking about machines or software code.

Anton hardly looks surprised. He shakes his head "Hah, typical Grace. Don't worry about it, we can grab food ourselves. You go take care of your babies."

Anton pats her on the shoulder reassuringly "Just make sure to eat something later, okay?"

Grace nods, and you expect her to hurry off towards her workstation but instead she moves to your side and whispers in your ear "My intuition tells me you're a good person, so good luck, I'm rooting for you!" And as you blink in surprise, the woman is already rushing off. You realize that at some point you'd made the judgement she was wholly focused on her mechanic creations and had little attention to her surroundings, but that had to be untrue. She read the situation in seconds and seems to be setting you two up on a date of sorts.

Anton on the other hand watched the entire exchange with one eyebrow raised.

As Grace runs off towards her creations, he turns back to you with a slightly quizzical look.

"What'd she whisper to you?"

You give him a sly smile "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Anton gives you a playful glare in return and crosses his arms "Oh, now you're just teasing me. Come on, spill the beans Shorty. Let me in on the secret."

You skip ahead and push the cafeteria double doors open "Oh wow this place smells great, it's suddenly making me feel so hungry! We better get some food quick!"

Behind you, you hear the taller male let out a hearty chuckle at your unsubtle change of topic "A convenient case of selective hearing, huh? Okay, I'll let it slide for now."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After filling your trays with food the two of you choose somewhere to sit, and with the cafeteria mostly empty it was like you had the whole place to yourselves.

Time to satisfy our empty stomachs.

Or so you thought.

You barely get to sit down before Anton gets a call, and he immediately gets up to take it. You wonder for a few seconds if it would be rude or not to start eating without him, however the call doesn't take that long.

"Sorry about that." Anton says, but when you look up to face him it's like looking at a different person. His attention is still on his phone and the set of his shoulders is stiff, but most of all, his smile is nowhere to be found "Something came up, you can start without me and uh- I'll be right back."

He's gone before you can get a word in edgewise.

Well, now you've been subjected to the inconvenience of eating alone in a cafeteria. At least it's mostly empty. You take exactly two bites of your delicious burger (it seems he was right about the food in this place) before you're interrupted, by Grace again this time.

"Hey! You're Anton's girlfriend!"

You almost choke-

"Where did he go- I think I messed up and I need his help before Sweet Pea finds out!"

Wow... Where do I even start with this one...

You decide to go with the basics "I'm not his girlfriend. I don't know someone called him away I think. Why are you afraid of a vegetable finding out about your mistake...?"

"So he's not here? Oh no." The woman turns on her heel and leaves.

You don't hesitate and follow after her, you'd rather not have to sit alone in a cafeteria, you just hope no one will put away your food while you're gone.

The real problem tho, is how much taller and faster she was. By the time you make it to the double doors you have no clue which direction she went in.

I think she went this way last time?

You pick a direction and at some point the smoke alarms start beeping in the halls, and you hear footsteps somewhere in the building rushing to and fro. Sure enough, you find yourself in a technician's lab at the end of the route. The only problem is, Grace is not here.

You walk in.

It doesn't take long to figure out what was causing a commotion, as the smoke alarm was beeping on and off above a smoking machine component. You step closer and take a look.

Hmm I'm not familiar with this model, but...

Your head turns towards the computer setup on the desk, warning and error messages flashing on the monitor. You sit down and crack your knuckles.

Let's give this a go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anton comes back to the cafeteria, finding you right where he left you.

"Heyo Shorty, sorry that took a while, wha- you're not eating yet?"

"Ah- I nibbled at the burger a bit, but I didn't wanna start without you so..." You lie smoothly.

"What the- I told you you could start," Anton says plopping into his seat "now I feel bad for making you wait so long." He says with a- is that a kicked puppy face? You didn't even know it was possible on him.

You instantly start feeling bad "Oh no worries, I didn't even feel the time pass!" I was fairly occupied anyways "Oh! I heard a lot of noise out there, what was going on?" You smoothly switch subjects, grabbing a hold of your burger and taking a bite.

"Hn? Oh yeah, the smoke alarm was ringing in multiple branches but there wasn't a fire in any of them, the system was pranking us I guess." He stabs his steak and starts cutting it "I tried to go back right after but Grace came to find me cuz something was acting up, so I go on a detour to her lab, we got there and whatever she needed a hand with just righted itself so I hurried back." He takes a bite of meet and waits till he's swallowed it to continue "You sure I didn't take too long?"

You smile "Really it's fine, it wasn't that long at all."

For the first seven to ten minutes of you two sitting together again, you both give your undivided attention to your food filled trays. Finally, after devouring an entire burger you break the silence "I'm gonna be honest with you, Anton, I had you all wrong when I first saw you this morning." You say between mouthfuls of fries, keeping one hand in front of your mouth whenever there's food in it and you need to talk.

Anton grins at your admission, taking a sip of his drink before replying "Hah, yeah, I can tell. You were giving me the eye roll of all eye rolls this morning. I take it you've changed your opinion of me now then?"

"Well, you have a very imposing build and with your resting scowl face I thought you'd be... Well nevermind, turns out you're someone who helps those in need... you also got a nice laugh." You end softly.

You hear a utensil drop, and you look up to see Anton's fork fell onto his steak, but more interesting was the deer caught in headlights look he was giving you.

Just as fast as it comes however he pushes it away, regaining his composure in record speed "Ha! I can see why you thought that. I do have a bit of a mean mug when I'm not smiling, though I've been told my laugh sounds like a bear's roar, so the nice laugh bit is definitely a first!" He grins at you, and you wonder if the lighting is playing tricks on you because you think there's some light redness at the top of his cheekbones. He then continues "But you're right, I do try to be helpful and kind, especially to those in need. And I'd like to think my sense of humor isn't half bad either."

You're not sure how to respond to that, the man has been nothing but forthcoming and honest with you all day while you've been... not.

Instead, you glance at the wall clock and say "I think I need to head out soon." As you clean off the last of your fries. "I came here for a job interview but I somehow ended up meeting you and uh- I really enjoyed it! I just wouldn't wanna walk back home too late in the dark y'know?"

"Anton looks at the time on his phone and nods in understanding."

"Yeah, it is getting late. It's not safe to walk around at night, especially for short stuff like you. I don't want you getting lost between the cracks in the sidewalk or something." He gives you a playful smirk.

You go to reply, deadpan tone and expression at the ready when he interrupts you.

"But... if you want, I could always give you a ride home. I have a company car parked nearby."

You hesitate " ...you already payed for the meal, which I'll totally pay you back for by the way! So I don't want to trouble you more..."

Anton shakes his head and waves off your concerns "Nah, don't worry about it. It's just a meal, it's no trouble at all. And don't worry about paying me back either, consider it a welcome to the company gift." He grins, then leans in closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially "Besides, you wouldn't be troubling me. It's my pleasure to help you out, Shorty."

You sweat drop "What's the point of me giving you my name if you'll just keep calling me that?"

Anton chuckles at your reaction, clearly enjoying teasing you "Oh, lighten up a bit. I like giving nicknames to people. It's a nice way to bond, y'know? Besides, it's kind of fitting, don't you think? Given your, uh, petite stature."

You glance at his emptied out tray, the mountains of food he'd heaped onto it already gone "Well, the bonding experience can wait till tomorrow, if you're done, shall we get going?"

Anton leans back in his chair, patting his stomach with a satisfied smile "Yeah, I'm all done. Let's hit the road." He stands up and stretches, then motions for you to follow him "Come on, Shorty. Let's get you home safe and sound."

You follow after him "Tell me honestly, Anton." You say as he grabs his tray to place it on the racks nearby, when you go to grab yours he beats you to it and smoothly takes that one as well, stacking it on his.

"I could've carried that!" You whine.

Anton's infuriatingly attractive grin makes another appearance "Oh, I know you could've carried it. But I'm just being a gentleman, shorty. Can't have you doing all the hard work before you even start tomorrow, you'll get even tinier!" He ends, his tone is teasing as usual but his eyes softened up considerably, and the look he's giving you has your insides turning to mush.

You flush. "Uh- as I was saying, are you maybe a bear in disguise? Because you just cleaned off a mountain of food alone."

Anton laughs at your flushed expression and your playful accusation, the way he's keeping his composure somehow just feels unfair, though you guess for someone working in construction keeping his cool would be a must.

"Ha! Bear in disguise, huh?" He replies "Nah, I'm just a guy with an appetite. You know, working here, I need the extra energy." Then his grin turns cocky "Plus, it takes a lot of food to fuel all this muscle." He gives a playful flex, showing off his bicep with a smirk.

You give a playful eye roll "Oh wow, and you're so humble too!" You say flatly "What a catch wow!"

Anton lets out a hearty laugh at your sarcastic remark and gives you a playful salute "Oh, you know it. I'm the total package. Good looks, charm, wit, and the appetite to match." He grins, clearly enjoying the banter, which you've come to enjoy as well.

"But I'll have you know, there are quite a few women here who think so too."

You deadpan "Good for you. Give me there number, I'll help set you up."

Anton chuckles, then scratches his chin in mock thoughtfulness, then his expression turns into a grin and he gives you a playful nudge.

"But why would I need their number when I've got yours, Shorty?"

You blink "Huh? But I never gave my number...?"

"Yeah, not yet you didn't, but I have good intuition. Call it a sixth sense." He taps his temple with a wink. And it's telling me a certain cute Shorty is interested."

You flush harder "Well your sixth sense must be malfunctioning this time." You say walking ahead, trying to keep him from seeing your beat red face. Unfortunately, with how much taller he is, he catches up by the next second.

When he's by your side, he wastes no time laughing at your flushed face "Hah, you're forgetting who you're dealing with, Shorty. These long legs of mine give me an unfair advantage."

You don't reply.

"And are you sure my sixth sense is malfunctioning this time? Cuz you're lookin' real flustered."

"You're imagining things, maybe it's time to visit the eye doctor?" You huff.

"Oh? Is that so? Hm, maybe my eyes aren't as sharp as they used to be. Let me have a closer look, just in case."

He places one hand on your shoulder to halt your walk and leans in closer, making a show of examining your face.

Your eyes go wider then your older sister's saucers "Hmm strange, I'm getting a clear view of your rosy cheeks right now, and my sixth sense is telling me it's not from the cold."

You consider how to get the upper hand in this situation, but with your muddled mind it gets a bit tricky. You end up going with the first thing that comes to mind "You're right, it's from the heat, it's really getting hot in hear for some reason-" You start, before realizing belatedly how suggestive that sounded "Uh- wait no-" You flush further.

Anton grins at your unintentional innuendo, and raises an eyebrow, playing along "Oh really? Getting hot in here, hm?" He looks around, feigning innocence "Huh, seems like a comfortable temperature to me. Maybe it's just you, Shorty."

You cover your tomato colored face with your arms "Oh enough already, you win so just stop!"

Anton laughs and puts his hands up in mock surrender "Alright, alright, I'll stop. Can't have the cute shorty overheating on me now, can I?" in a quieter, more gentle tone, he adds, "But seriously, your blush is adorable."

You groan "Anton!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anton pulls up outside your house in the company car and turns to you with a smile "Here we are, shorty. Home sweet home."

You nod "Thank you, and sorry for the trouble."

Anton shakes his head and waves off your apologies "No trouble at all, I enjoyed the company. Besides, I couldn't just let you walk home alone in the dark." He grins, then adds in a playful tone, "Especially not when you're such a cute Shorty."

You deadpan "Don't make me take it back." You consider something then say "Give me your phone for a sec."

Anton raises an eyebrow, but obediently hands you his phone "Sure, but why do you need it? You gonna put your number in without me asking?"

"Nice try. I'll give you my Inter Knot contact for work stuff. You're not high level enough to get my number yet."

"High enough level, huh? Am I just a lowly level one in your eyes right now?"

Not looking up from your typing you reply "You made it all the way up to level three on day one, Congrats! But your nickname for me is shorty, I don't know how to feel about that yet."

Anton laughs, seemingly amused by your rating system for him "Only level three? Damn, I was hoping for a higher rank. But you're right, the nickname 'Shorty' might be deducting some points."

He grins, then adds with a wink, "Maybe if I find a better nickname, I'll rank up higher in your eyes... or maybe I'll just keep calling you 'Shorty' just to annoy you."

You deadpan "Well that would be very in character for you wouldn't it?" You say handing him back the phone.

Anton takes it back with a smirk, clearly unrepentant for his nickname choice "Hah, you know me so well already, Shorty. I gotta admit, your deadpan face is just too fun to tease." He leans in closer, unable to resist poking at you further "Besides, the way you turn all tomato-red whenever you're flustered is just priceless."

You push his face back with your hand "Goodnight Anton, see you tomorrow." You say as you unlock the cat door and head out.

"Haha, goodnight, Shorty. Get some rest. Sweet dreams."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And as you lock the car door and leave, Anton checks his phone, leaving the Inter Knot app to check the CCTV footage he has access to. The one that clearly shows you entering and leaving Grace's lab. He barely mumbles out "Till tomorrow then... Y/n. Hopefully I'll figure out what you're really up to soon."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hmm did I manage to make the reader subtly mysterious? 🤔 Tell me guys if y'all want a part two. LavenderLily you can tell me directly 👀

And as always, Free Palestine ❤️ 🇵🇸

[oneshotnewbie]

Hello! I was wondering if you're taking requests, specifically for Athena Grant? If so, please could you write something about:

Reader and Athena are together (engaged) and the reader gets injured (either accidently/someone intentionally hurt) and they've had to remove all the jewelry before surgery, so when the reader wakes up, she's panicking about how she's lost her engagement ring (half still under anesthesia and half boasting to the nurses) until Athena gets there and puts the ring back on her finger again? Like re-proposing in front of the team?

⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️ This one-shot includes the topic of a serious accident, blood, conversations about possible death and the plots are presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

ᕚ---ᕘ

You leaned against the rolling doors of the fire station as the sun slowly sank behind the skyscrapers of Los Angeles. Daily life at the station was chaotic, as always - the hum of voices and the heavy clatter of equipment filled the air. The icy cold air left an uncomfortable tingling sensation on your skin, a coldness that you couldn't shake off despite the fleece jacket over your shoulders.

Since your engagement to Athena, you had become strangely calmer, your once impetuous nature had changed. But this uneasy silence that this evening brought with it made you nervous. Your finger unconsciously stroked the shiny ring on your hand - a symbol of love, the promise of a shared future that you had given each other.

"Y/n, are you okay?" Hen asked, putting a hand on your shoulder while she cast a worried look at you. "Are you unsure about... the engagement?"

"Oh my God, no Hen. I could never be unsure about Athena. It just feels so... unreal," you replied with a gentle smile as you looked at her while pushing yourself away from the wall. "It is a.. magical feeling and I'm so incredibly happy."

Hen smiled broadly at you and before she could answer you, a shrill alarm sounded, echoing through the walls of the building. The adrenaline immediately shot through your body, your muscles tensed, and the moment of calm was over. It was time for action.

"A serious accident on a construction site in the west of downtown! Several injured, unclear situation, possible danger of collapse!" the announcement echoed over the loudspeakers.

Hen and you exchanged a brief, wordless glance - the mixture of concern and determination in your eyes was unmistakable. You walked quickly together towards the ambulance while the rest of the team jumped into the fire trucks. The engines roared as you left the station in a moment when the air seemed to stand still before the chaos began.

The streets of Los Angeles were packed, but the car's sirens cut through the traffic like a knife. You felt the familiar thrill of adrenaline rising inside you. But today it felt different. Every sound seemed sharper, the movements around you faster - as if the world around you was vibrating with tension. You tried to focus your thoughts, but your eyes kept wandering to the shiny ring on your finger. You couldn't shake the wonderful thought that you would soon be a Grant.

When you finally arrived at the construction site, the extent of the disaster was immediately apparent. A gigantic construction site, filled with half-built buildings, cranes towering into the sky, and workers everywhere, panicking and trying to make their way out of the rubble. The scene was a nightmare: steel beams had collapsed, concrete slabs had been shattered, machinery was blocking access roads, and dust hung thick in the air, as if the entire construction site had been shaken by a major earthquake.

Hen and Chimney jumped out of the car and immediately ran to the injured, while you turned your gaze to the half-collapsed part of the construction site, where the cause of the chaos seemed to be. Sparks flew from a stationary smaller crane that was leaning dangerously to the side and threatened to fall onto the scaffolding below.

You immediately ran, your mind on autopilot. It was clear that this situation was life-threatening but this was your job and you would stop at nothing. The crane had to be stabilized before more people were injured. A team of construction workers tried desperately to secure the heavy equipment with steel cables, but it was obvious that their efforts would not be enough. Sweat ran down their foreheads as they frantically shouted orders to the rest of your team, but time was running out.

"Damn, if that thing falls, it'll kill even more people," you cursed inwardly as you ran and grabbed one of the heavy steel cables, trying to help the workers stabilize the machine before Bobby and the others found a solution.

But the situation quickly escalated. A worker, obviously inexperienced and panicked, began to frantically pull on one of the control levers, ignoring the dangerous weight of the wooden beams moving above him. But before Bobby, Eddie or anyone else could intervene, there was a loud crack that made your blood run cold. You looked up - a massive wooden beam finally came loose and fell towards you without stopping.

Everything happened in a split second. The beam crashed down with a deafening roar and hit you with full force. You felt a sharp, piercing pain as the wood hit your body, as if your entire ribcage was being crushed. Your breath was ripped from your lungs, and you could feel the burning pain flooding your body. The sound of bones breaking echoed in your ears, accompanied by the dull thud as your body hit the ground with full force.

You wanted to scream, but no sound came. You lay under the heavy weight, unable to move, and could feel your consciousness slowly fading. Your head spun, and the pounding of your own heartbeat became duller as the blood from the wound in the side of your torso dripped onto the ground at an alarming rate. Your vision blurred, and the sounds around you became quieter. You knew you were losing control.

The world around you began to blur, but the last thing you consciously perceived was a terrified scream from Hen.

She saw it happen as if time itself was slowing down. The massive beam fell as if in slow motion, and even though Hen knew there was nothing she could do, she felt an indescribable feeling of powerlessness. She had promised her best friend, Athena, that she would look after you during missions. "Y/n! No!" she screamed as she ran across the rubble. Her voice was rough and broken, the shock almost paralyzing her.

Chimney, who had also witnessed the accident, was already at her side, grabbing his emergency backpack with shaking fingers. The sight of you lying motionless under the beam made his heart race. You weren't just a colleague, you were family. The unit was a family, and when one of them fell, everyone felt it.

Hen knelt down next to your head and felt desperately for a pulse. The blood loss was frightening, her fingers immediately soaked by the warm, sticky blood that was constantly seeping from the wound. Hen's heart was racing. She had to keep a clear head, but it was difficult. Chimney worked frantically beside her, trying to put pressure on the wound, but it was clear that the injury was serious. Too serious.

Meanwhile, the others tried to keep the gathering crowd under control while securing the other wooden beams to avoid another accident.

"We're losing her!" Chimney shouted, his voice hot with panic as he performed the makeshift wound care. Hen felt her hands shaking as she reached for the equipment, but she forced herself to calm down. There could be no mistakes. Not now.

"She's strong, no one loses anyone here," Hen whispered, more to herself than to Chimney. The sight of your lifeless body made Hen dizzy. Your chest barely heaved and your face was pale and lifeless, as if the life was draining out of you.

The two worked feverishly. Their hands slid confidently over the injured flesh as they tried to stop the blood seeping from the gaping wounds. The world around them seemed to stand still and all that mattered now was the person in front of them - their colleague. Their friend. Their family.

"Chim, we have to get her out of here. If we don't stabilize her, we'll lose her!" Hen shouted, trying to keep the panic from her voice. Each breath you took was weak, as if the next one might be your last.

"Damn it, Hen, the girder is sitting right on her chest. Bobby, you have to lift the girder! She'll bleed to death otherwise!" Chimney answered hastily, as he secured the pressure bandage to the worst part of your injury. The massive wooden beam had hit you hard, and it was a miracle you were still alive. But for how much longer? Chimney's gaze was fixed on the growing pool of blood beneath his knees.

Bobby, Buck, and Eddy were no time in coming. Each of them knew that time was now their enemy. Buck and Eddie immediately began to position themselves at the respective ends of the girder, while Bobby took the lead and stood over you.

"Okay, everyone ready? On my command! One... two... THREE!" he shouted as everyone lifted at the same time to take the weight off you. The wood cracked under the pressure, and for a moment it looked like they wouldn't make it. But with one last, desperate tug, they lifted it just high enough for Chimney to pull you out.

You were almost unconscious, pale as death. Hen looked at her best friend's bloody, limp face and felt her heart sink. This wasn't just any mission. "Stay with us, y/n," she whispered as Chimney carefully lifted you onto a stretcher.

Bobby quickly put an oxygen mask on you while Chimney applied pressure to the wound with one hand and monitored your heart rate with the other. The situation was critical and the team knew that every second counted. Without hesitation, they pushed the stretcher into the ambulance while Buck closed the doors and ran to the fire truck.

"Hen, Chim, we're right behind you," Bobby called before the doors slammed shut and the ambulance sped off, sirens blaring.

The ambulance sped through the streets of Los Angeles, the sirens piercing the night like the howl of a wounded animal. The city lights blurred into a bright kaleidoscope as the two paramedics inside the car raced against time.

Hen drove the ambulance while Chimney worked feverishly to keep the blood flowing. The oxygen mask over your face was a thin thread holding you to this life. The heart rate on the monitor was faint, and every second that passed felt like an eternity.

"Come on, come on..." he muttered to himself as he applied another pressure bandage over the one already soaked in blood. His latex gloves were red with blood, and his eyes were extremely tense. "We're losing her, Hen. The pressure is off."

Hen pressed her lips together, fighting the fear that threatened to overwhelm her. "Not now. Not here. Not her. We're almost there, keep her alive!"

The ambulance arrived at the hospital minutes later with screeching tires, and the team jumped out, the stretcher with you in the middle. You were immediately surrounded by a team of emergency doctors who moved their bodies like machines, every grip precise, every action practiced.

"Severe chest trauma, internal bleeding! She's losing a lot of!" Hen shouted after the doctors as they quickly pushed you through the hospital doors. Hen and Chimney followed them, both with their eyes downcast and faces covered in sweat.

The rest of the team also watched as you were pushed down the hallway towards the operating rooms and then the moment came when they disappeared around the corner with you and the team was left alone in a state of confusion, concern, hope and fear. In that moment it felt like the air was being sucked out of the hallway they stood in.

ᕚ---ᕘ

Athena stormed through the hospital corridors, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. She could hear her own blood rushing in her ears, her thoughts swirling in a chaotic vortex of fear, worry and hopelessness. Bobby had called her shortly after arriving at the hospital, and his words echoed in her head as if they were caught on an endless loop: "It's serious. It's serious."

She reached the emergency room and immediately saw the familiar faces of her friends and colleagues. Bobby was the first to step forward to greet her, his face worried but calm. "Athena..." he began, but she didn't let him finish. "Where is she?" Athena whispered, her voice breaking as she looked around. Her eyes wandered frantically through the sterile, brightly lit hospital corridor until they finally settled on Hen. The paramedic stood with her arms crossed, her shoulders slumped forward, looking exhausted and full of grief.

She stepped forward and put a hand on Athena's shoulder, but she felt that words could not bring comfort here. The pain, the fear, the agonizing wait - all of this weighed heavily on Athena. "She's in the operating room. They're fighting... but it doesn't look good," she said carefully in a quiet voice. Her eyes were tired, the minutes of her colleague's blood loss and the constant tension for her life had left their mark on her too.

"Not good?" Athena shook her head in disbelief, as if she couldn't believe these words. She felt an uncontrollable tremor running through her body that she could barely suppress and the walls seemed to close in around her.

"What does that mean, Hen? Are you going to tell me that she might not make it?" Her voice had gotten louder, almost panicked. Bobby, who was standing next to them, held out his hand reassuringly, but Athena backed away. She needed answers, not pity.

"Athena, we don't know," Hen said carefully, her eyes full of compassion. "She has severe internal injuries and the bleeding was extremely critical. But she's in the best hospital, with the best doctors. They're doing everything they can."

But those words were only a small consolation for her. The worry about you weighed heavily on her chest, and she felt helpless. She wanted to be with you, wanted to hold your hand, to tell you that you should fight and not give up. But all she could do now was stand here and wait. Wait while fate decided the life of the woman she loved.

Athena nodded silently, although inside she wanted to scream. She had to pull herself together, not collapse. "At least tell me that she can feel it... that she knows that I'm here," she finally said, directing her words at her best friend.

"Athena, if anyone can do it, it's y/n. She's a fighter. And she'll know you're here, no matter what."

While the entire team waited, the team of surgeons and nurses fought for your survival. The sterile, cool air in the room was filled with frantic, precise movements. The lead surgeon wiped sweat from his brow as he made another deep cut to find the source of the bleeding

"We've stabilized her, but the blood loss is still concerning. Should we add another unit of blood?" one of the nurses asked as she readjusted the oxygen mask and checked the heart rate on the monitor. Each beat of your heart was weak, almost imperceptible.

"Yes, please. Several ribs are broken, internal organ damage. We need to decompress the left lung," he murmured, handling his instruments more tensely than usual. His hands moved in a routine manner.

One of the nurses, meanwhile, took care of the jewelry that remained on your body. The engagement ring on your finger shimmered in the cold operating room light, a tiny spark in the midst of the fight for life and death. With gentle movements, the nurse removed the ring from your blood-stained hand and carefully placed it in a bowl, along with a chain that had been hidden under your uniform, to later clean these items and hand them over to you as soon as you were able to.

ᕚ---ᕘ

The bright light of the infirmary blinded you as you slowly emerged from the deep darkness of the anesthetic sleep. At first everything was blurry - the shapes, the sounds, the feeling of your own body. You felt that something was wrong, but couldn't grasp what it was. Your head seemed to be wrapped in cotton wool, your thoughts swirled wildly, but one thing was immediately clear: something was missing.

Confusion spread through your foggy mind and your fingers twitched slightly. You instinctively reached for your hand, for the engagement ring that should be there. But it wasn't there. The cool, bare skin of your fingers touched nothing but the air. Panic shot through your body like lightning.

"Where... where is it?" you murmured quietly at first, still too dazed by the painkillers to speak properly. But the confusion quickly turned into naked fear. You blinked, trying to concentrate, but the feeling of emptiness, the loss of your ring, seemed to smother any clarity.

With a sudden, jerky impulse of movement that put the nurses on alert, you began to sit up in your hospital bed. "My ring! Where... where is it?" you gasped, your voice getting louder, your breathing getting faster. The tubes and wires monitoring you pulled taut as you tried to sit up further. Your body was still weak, but your panic gave you a supernatural strength.

One of the nurses rushed to your side, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "Calm down, everything is fine. Please lie back down, you've just had a serious operation," she said gently.

But you barely heard her. Your thoughts were a wild storm, and the only reality that existed in your head was the horrible feeling that you had lost the engagement ring. Tears gathered in your eyes and your voice broke into panic. "No! My ring... I... I lost it! Where is it? Where is it?!" You desperately grabbed the nurse's hand as if she could give you the answer.

"It's fine, please, try to relax," said another nurse who had now joined you. "We'll take care of you."

But nothing could calm you down. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, the monitor began to beep faster while your heart beat in dangerous panic for your condition. Your eyes wandered around the room, searching for a familiar sign, something that could assure you that you had not lost the ring and everything it symbolized.

"No... no... please... I need it..." you whispered between gasping breaths, your voice full of desperation. The nurses exchanged a worried look, unsure how to calm you down.

Just then, the door opened and Athena entered, closely followed by Hen, Chimney, Bobby, Buck and Eddie. Each of them had spent the last few hours in endless worry, but when they saw you now - your eyes red and filled with tears, your body upright in a bed you weren't supposed to leave yet - a wave of compassion shot through them. The lump in Athena's throat grew when she saw how confused and helpless you looked.

"Hey, hey, everything's fine," Athena called immediately when she saw the panic in your eyes. She quickly went to the bed and knelt by the side, placing her hands firmly on yours. "I'm here, I'm here. You haven't lost anything."

But you shook your head violently, still unable to think clearly. "No... my ring! I lost it! Athena, I lost your proof of love…” The words came in jerky, desperate breaths as tears streamed down your cheeks. You looked at Athena with so much fear in your eyes that it broke her heart.

Athena took a deep breath, then gently squeezed your hand in hers. “Honey, calm down,” she said, her voice firm but loving. She stroked your hand gently. “You didn’t lose it. I have it.”

With those words, Athena reached into her pocket and pulled out the engagement ring—the ring she had put on you months ago when she had promised you to go through whatever life threw at you together. The ring sparkled in the soft light of the hospital room, a familiar, beautiful symbol of their love and future.

Your breathing slowed for a moment when you saw the ring. Your eyes widened, and the panic slowly faded as reality began to penetrate the veil of painkillers. "You... you have it?" you asked quietly, your voice shaking.

"Yes, darling. One of the nurses gave it back to me after she took it from you during surgery for safety reasons. I've been keeping it for you the whole time," Athena said, holding your hand tighter. "I would never let you lose it. You'll always have it. Just like you'll always have me."

Your chest was still heaving heavily, but your panic was noticeably subsiding. You looked at Athena, your eyes filling with tears again, but this time out of relief. "I thought... I thought it was gone."

"It's not gone. It was always here," Athena whispered, holding the ring gently between her fingers before slowly sliding it back onto your finger, right where it belonged.

There was a deep silence in the room. All eyes were on the couple - the team watched as Athena placed the ring back on your finger with as much care and love as if it were the first time. Chimney, Hen, Bobby, Buck and Eddie held their breath as if they were watching a sacred moment.

Athena looked deep into your eyes, her voice firm but tender as she said, "Will you marry me, here and now, a second time, y/n? Will you continue on this path with me, no matter how hard it may be sometimes?"

The words were a mixture of seriousness and comfort, a promise she had made before - and yet now, in this moment, it felt even stronger and more meaningful.

You, still slightly dazed, felt the world around you finally settle down. The fear of losing the ring had been like a huge wave that had washed over you - but now you were back on the shore. The ring was there, Athena was there. Everything was right again.

With tear-filled eyes and a weak but sincere smile, you nodded. "Yes... always yes."

Athena smiled warmly as a wave of relief and love washed through her. She leaned forward, kissed your forehead gently, and in that moment the whole room seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. The team, which had been in tense silence until then, could no longer contain the emotions.

"This is incredibly beautiful," Buck murmured with a moist gleam in his eyes as Hen poked him in the side.

"It's not often that you see someone propose the same thing twice," Chimney said quietly, his voice full of emotion. Eddie nodded silently and allowed a slight smile to appear while Bobby, the silent observer, took a deep breath. For him, this moment was a symbol of the fighting spirit that united them all.

[neowinestainedress]

wait for me | lee jeno

title: wait for me

pairing: lee jeno x fem!reader

genre: smut

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), facef*cking, praise kink, minor degradation (more like teasing), (consensual) filming for one scene, pet names (princess, baby/babe, honey, good girl, silly girl, etc), mentions of p*rn, loss of virginity (it’s a social construct but you get the point), soft dom!jeno, innocent!reader, romantic but rough at times, a bit of aftercare

summary: jeno keeps his promise of turning you into a mess under him

wc: 6.195k

a/n: I take my time with things, but if I promise something, I will do it, so here’s a gift for my precious @everloving-avenue ♡ it took almost a year but the sequel to this drabble is here! you don’t have to read the first part to understand. the style is a bit different from the drabble because I do write in a different way, so I don’t know how it will flow if you read one right after the other, but I hope you’ll enjoy it anyway. I missed writing just good old smut with no plot. Same thing as the original drabble; I don’t think I’m the best when it comes to writing first times, so I hope this doesn’t suck completely. ps: missed writing about Jeno ♡

general taglist: @froggyforyoongi, @wingsss45, @tddyhyck | send an ask if you want to be added (i hope i didn't forget anyone cause i didn't use a tag, but from now on i will so i'll have everyone in the same place)

“Can you take it all, pretty girl?” Jeno never looked more intimidating than he does now, looking down at you while you’re on your knees, trying to keep your gaze locked in his and don’t divert it, too embarrassed and distracted by his big, hard dick standing so close to your face. 

You gulp, humming lowly and moving closer to the head of his cock, your lips brushing against it, making him laugh tenderly. 

“We can wait if you’re not ready,” he says, the husky tone of his voice sends shivers down your back, and even if he has been nothing but nice and respectful to you, your brain can only focus on the sexiness of it. 

“No, I...” you hesitate, lowering your head as you suddenly feel shy, “… I don’t know what to do.” Since you called him that night, you had been more daring, but Jeno always focused on you, and the bravest thing you’ve done to him was a handjob. This feels like such a big step, and you’re terrified you’ll let him down, no matter how much he has been reassuring you. 

A smile curls his lips, but it’s more of a grin as he bends over and lifts your chin up. “I’m here to teach you, am I right?” 

You feel your throat close for a moment as you bravely meet his eyes, you can see he’s holding back, and that makes a fire ignite in you. You’d even let him be rough with you — at least that’s what you saw while lurking on… those sites — but you don’t feel like pushing your luck. So you nod, swinging your ass on your heels as your knees rub against the carpet to move closer to him again. 

“Good girl,” he coos, kissing you quickly before standing up like before. “Open up,” Jeno orders, this time holding the base of his dick as he prods the tip against your lips. 

You do as he says, tongue coming out of your mouth as you try to remember what you saw in a few videos. 

Jeno smiles, teasing his length on it, watching as you try so hard to don’t look away. He thinks you’re really cute, really fucking cute, to be honest. There’s a bit of fear and a lot of eagerness in your eyes, and after months, he can’t hold back anymore. His free hand reaches for your cheek as he slowly starts pushing in, whispering to you to be careful to don’t bite and keep your mouth wide open, until he’s halfway in. 

You flinch, eyes squeezing as you feel the flow of air already dim in your lungs, hands immediately finding his thighs to hold onto something. 

Jeno snickers, pulling out and shaking his head. “Silly girl, you have to breathe, that’s like the most important part.” 

You feel like he’s testing the ground, being bolder in the way he talks to you during these moments, and you have no idea why, but you find it hotter than you imagined you ever would. Your thighs clench as you feel your pussy throb just at the way he had called you a silly girl. 

“Through your nose, darling. You got it?” Something about the way he’s so condescending makes you dizzy and answer him right away, eyes fluttering as you nod and part your lips again, this time not set for failure. 

He pushes into your mouth again, it’s slow and he grunts as he slides in, feeling your warm, wet mouth wrap around him. 

You gag on it when the tip reaches the back of your throat, but Jeno’s ready to calm you down. 

“Breathe deeply, babe,” he says, voice dropped by an octave as his thumb caresses the portion of your skin between your jaw and neck. “You’re being such a good girl for me.” 

Your toes curl at his words, and you feel a heavy weight being lifted from your back. Jeno feels it in the way your throat relaxes and how your cheeks suck him in. 

If only he didn’t wait so long, he would stay still for a bit more, but now that he has you like this, he can’t control himself. “Can you suck?” He asks, voice shaking. 

“I guess,” you mumble before pulling away to take a deep breath. “You want me to move on it?” 

“Yeah,” he hums. “I fear I won’t be so gentle if I do all the job.” 

You quirk a brow, tilting your head as you stare at him. “What do you mean?” 

He shakes his head. “Nothing. Just remember what I said, breathe through your nose, and you’ll be fine.” 

You’re not happy with the way he dismissed your question, but you ignore it anyway, taking his cock in your mouth another time. You close your eyes to concentrate more and you start to suck, bobbing your head slowly at first, until you find a rhythm he seems to like, and it’s not too much for you. 

It feels weird, yet, every time you feel like you’re doing something wrong — like when the lewd sounds of your mouth get louder when it hits too deep, or when your nails sink in his thighs hard, or when spit drools from your chin — Jeno only moans louder and the hold of his hand in your hair tightens. 

“Good girl,” he praises, and when you open your eyes, you see his head reclined, lips parted and eyelids sitting on his beautiful cheeks. “Taking my dick so well.” 

Your body burns up at his word, a mix of feelings you can’t explain getting to your brain, but you keep trying to do your best to work on him. Until something pops in your mind. You pull away, mostly to take your breath, but your hand immediately reaches his base to pump up and down. 

Jeno doesn’t say anything, he even manages to muffle the groan of disappointment he let out when your lips left him. He knows you need breaks, but he still doesn’t quite expect what you do next. The combo mouth-hand was not on his bingo today and he can’t believe you’re doing it. It takes you a while to find a rhythm — he finds it adorable how uncoordinated you are — but when you do… fuck, when you do. 

You’re moving slower than Jeno would go crazy for, but he likes it anyway. You’re trying your best, brows knitted in concentration, mouth and hand working together, and soft moans vibrating around him. Just the view is enough to push him closer to the edge, especially when you seem to relax completely. 

“Stay focused,” he calls you out, fearing you might stop doing the most important thing again; breathe. “Don’t get too lost, princess.” 

You hum, voice muffling around his length hitting deep in your throat while you open your eyes to look at him. His jaw is tense, and he’s breathing deeply through his nose, the veins of his arms are so visible, propping on his skin as his hand is closed in a fist. He’s trying not to look down at you, you won’t know it, but you look too hot right now, and if only his eyes move down, he would start fucking your face. 

But you can’t take it. It’s your first time, and he has to be gentle. He can’t act like an animal without self-control, because he is not, right? 

Yet the more you softly moan, and gag and suck him, hollowing your cheeks while your hand shily works on the base and his balls, the harder it gets. 

When he practically growls, you pull back, terrified you did something wrong, unaware eyes looking into his. 

“Did I hurt you? I’m sorry, I — I was careful with my teeth, I’m sure I wasn’t —” 

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head as he shuts you up with his thumb on your lips, now plumper and red with spit dripping from a corner down to your chin. “You did nothing wrong,” his breath is ragged and his pupils are dilated, his chest is heaving quickly while his hair is starting to wet around the crown of his forehead. “You’re being good, baby, too good.” 

You blink, confusingly staring at him. “Too good? How can I be too good?” 

Jeno sighs, caressing your cheeks, wetting them with the spit that stuck to his thumb. “You really have no idea how fucking hot you look right now, don’t you?” 

You purse your lips, shaking your head as you keep looking up. Feeling oh so small. 

A smirk paints his face. “Should I show you?” He asks, but you don’t get it until he grabs the phone from the nightstand and shakes it in his hand. 

“Oh, that,” you gasp, feeling your throat go dry. 

“Only if you want, of course,” he reassures, sensing your hesitation. 

“I — it’s fine. If it stays on your phone, it’s fine,” you say, feeling yourself get wetter at the thought of him taking a picture of you at such a moment. It’s also curiosity. Are you really that good? Do you look as pretty as the girls in those videos? You doubt that, even if they look like a mess they’re always so pretty, but you? Maybe Jeno is just being nice because it’s you. 

“Of course, princess. Trust me, I wouldn’t let anybody else see you like this.” And also, for all the times he is going to have you in that position, he would even delete it once you are done, if you prefer it. 

You nod, shifting in your place because you don’t know what to do, should you pose? Should you take it in your mouth again? But Jeno answers your questions when he grips your chin and forces your head up, you’re not as messed up as he wishes you were, but this will do. “Smile for me,” he says and you do, feeling awkward. You’d like to disappear if only you couldn’t see his cock throb in your peripherical view, he wants you so much. 

So, as soon as the phone moves away with praises coming out of his mouth, you lean in, taking it inside again. 

“Fuck,” Jeno curses, clutching the phone in his hand, struggling to show you the picture of you. “Let me fuck your face,” he pleads, words followed by ragged moans, “you can tap my thigh if it gets too much but — fuck — let me try.” 

You pull away, trying to follow him, but even if you are doing something to him, your brain is already lost in the pleasure, and the fact you have pretty much no idea what he’s talking about doesn’t help. “Like in the videos?” 

“I won’t be that harsh, I promise,” and even if pleasure is running in his body, you can hear the honesty in his voice. 

“O — okay, but…” you drift your gaze away, “can you film us? So I can see after?” 

A deep groan reverberates in his chest, followed by a low suck of air. He can’t believe this is real, that you are real. So innocent and pure, asking for such things. But he’s more than happy you are the one proposing stuff to him. “Yeah, fuck, yes.” 

You shouldn’t feel like this just hearing his voice and moan, but you do, and the way your panties are sticking to your pussy is getting unbearable, you can’t wait to have him down there, so you part your lips, and wait for him to take the invitation. 

Jeno doesn’t waste a second more, shoving himself down your throat, stopping to give you time to adjust to the rough intrusion of his girth before he starts moving his hips against your face. 

At first, it feels weird, you have no control, and the pace is faster than yours, but you try to remember what he said before; you focus on your breathing and the sweet sounds coming from his mouth. Mostly because the ones coming from yours are too dirty for you to bear with. 

“Fuck, babe, just like this,” he praises, one hand holding up the phone and the other caressing your cheek, trying to give you something soothing while he moves with force, it’s not too strong, surely not like one video you accidentally watched — and closed right away because it was way too much. This feels like a great compromise between your slower pace from before and the facefucking.

“My pretty baby, taking me so well,” Jeno moans, smiling at you when he sees a glint of a smile in your eyes. “You still don’t believe me, do you?” 

You try to answer him non-verbally, but the way he’s thrusting into you doesn’t give your head any room for movement. He tsks, shaking his head disappointedly. “Don’t believe me when I call you beautiful when we go out on dates, don’t believe me when I whisper it to you in the morning, and not even now? Do I really have to show you?” 

You feel like choking, but not on his dick. It’s because of his voice, his words, and the tone he’s using. Your breath falters more when he turns the phone to you, the video playing what you were doing just a few moments ago. You should think it’s weird, humiliating even, but you don’t. It’s turning you on even more, and you do look pretty like he says. 

“See how beautiful you are even like this?” His voice is heavy, reaching deep into your core, making your pussy clench around nothing and drool out more excitement. “Your glossy eyes, your pretty lips stretched open just for me. Do you believe me now, princess?” 

You nod, nails digging into his thigh because the video and him are deconcentrating you and you fail to do the most important thing; breathe. You gasp when he pulls out, a thread of spit connects your lips with the tip of his cock as you sputter, trying to catch your breath. 

“Are you okay?” He asks worriedly, throwing the phone on the bed and staring at you with a concerned look on your face. “You know you should stop before reaching your limit?” 

“I know,” you cry out, cleaning your chin before lifting your gaze at him. “I was doing fine, but I… I forgot how to breathe.” 

Jeno snickers, caressing your lips with his thumb, smearing the mess on your chin another time. “You forgot how to breathe, baby? Didn’t fuck you yet, and you’re already my dumb baby?” He’s clearly testing the waters another time, you discussed these things a lot, but Jeno knows that videos and stories on the internet are a completely different thing from reality and he’s not so confident everything you think turns you on will actually turn you on. But apparently dirty talking, a mix between a lot of praises and just a hint of degradation, turns you on for real. He watches your thighs clench and your boobs rise while a choked moan leaves your lips. 

He smiles, or better, grins, tapping your face with his cock. “Will you let me fuck your mouth until I come, silly girl? Should we see just how dumb you get on me?” 

You nod eagerly, moving even closer with your knees, sure by now you were going to have marks of that night tomorrow. But not even the discomfort can stop you from letting him have his way with you. 

You moan louder when he pushes inside you this time, hands reaching his thighs for support while he starts moving quickly in and out, groans falling copiously from his tongue, balls slapping against your chin, and strong grip on the side of your face. 

You can’t take it anymore and you start rubbing your thighs together, trying to get a tiny bit of relief as his moans progressively get lower, aggressive and messier. He always tries to hold back but you’re loving this side of him. 

“Where — fuck — where do you want me to come?” He asks, slowing down a bit, only now realizing you’re wearing your favourite tank top and he doesn’t want to ruin your clothes, but were you ready for the whole thing? “Shirt?” When you shake your head he tries to think of something else, but the only option is not much better. “Floor?” But you shake your head again, and there’s only one thing left, “mouth?” You nod, eyes beaming, and he loses it. “Fuck,” he groans, hips stilling against your face as the orgasm hits him, making him empty inside of you. He drags out to don’t make you choke on his cum and then pulls away, still shuddering and moaning, expecting you to spit, having decided to play with fire and surely regretting it, but you don’t. Your face is contorted in an expression he can’t read, but you swallow everything, and then look up at him with innocent eyes. 

“Was I good?” 

“Fuck, honey, yes,” he says, lifting you up by wrapping an arm around your waist, making you lay on the bed. “So good,” he praises. 

You smile but feel shy once again when he doesn’t start anything more. You’re aching, and you want him. Everything. His mouth and fingers are not enough anymore, you need him now. 

“Jeno,” you moan. “Please.” 

“Yeah?” he asks nonchalantly. 

You huff, rolling your eyes. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Oh, no, princess, I want to hear you. Use your big girl words,” he orders.

“I want you to fuck me,” you breathe out, barely holding eye contact with him. 

He smiles victoriously, feeling his dick harden again just from hearing your voice say those filthy words. “Are you sure?” He checks in, quirking a brow.  

You hum. “I’m dripping,” you whisper, feeling too conscious about the mess between your legs. “I’m ready.” 

Jeno tried to postpone this as much as he could, not because he didn’t want you, but because he wanted to wait for you and respect your time. He knows you tend to jump into things head first, but after a brief look at you, he knows this time isn’t the case. Since the daring call, you two experimented a lot, so this was the right moment to give you everything. 

“Stop me if anything makes you uncomfortable, alright?” 

You nod, silently watching as he adjusts between your legs, pulling down your stained panties before throwing them to the side. You don’t expect his lips to leave kisses on your thighs, quite frankly you feel more eager than usual to get what you wanted right away, but it’s clear he has other plans. 

You still shy away every time he’s between your legs, feeling too conscious about how intimate you two are being. And it makes you even more dizzy when Jeno breathes in deeply before sucking on your clit. 

“Jeno,” you cry out, covering your face with your hands. 

“What, baby? How many times do I have to tell you not to cover yourself?” He scolds, eyes staring at you from between your legs. “Move your hands away or I’ll leave.” 

You barely give him time to finish that your hands are sitting at the sides of your body, and your hips are bucking up, inviting him to take care of you. 

“Eager baby,” he whispers before spreading your thighs wider, sinking down to lick your wetness. “Taste so good, princess.” 

“It’s weird,” you mumble, you truly can’t get what he finds so hot about it, and how good you taste. 

Jeno clicks his tongue, groaning in disappointment. “You don’t have to taste it,” he says, giving another harsh suck to your clit that makes your thighs shudder, “it’s all for me, and I love it.” 

Your head rolls back when he starts moving his tongue on you as soon as he’s done with his words. He’s neat, like his usual, sucking and licking until he has you shaking underneath him. But usually — the four times you’ve done this before — you just lay there. This time your fingers find their way in his hair, tangling in it as you push him closer. 

“Fuck, babe,” he moans, voice muffled against your body. “I’m not going anywhere,” he giggles and the vibrations push your brain in a spiral while your head rolls back. 

You bite down a high-pitched moan when he pushes two fingers inside you after collecting your arousal and his spit. If you want to take him — and you do — he has to get you ready for the big thing —literally. So he sucks on your clit and pumps in and out of you faster, scissoring his two digits every now and then to stretch you out more. 

“So welcoming, angel,” he hums, pulling away from your clit with a loud pop, “do you want me that much?” You must be particularly turned on because his fingers slide into you with ease, more than the other times when it took him a while to get you accommodated to the intrusion. 

“Yeah, I…” your words die in your mouth as you stare at the ceiling, feeling so, so close to the high. It’s a feeling you know quite well now, but it still catches you by surprise every time. And you fear you will never get used to any of this, not anytime soon, at least. 

“You?” He coos. “You want my cock in you? Want to finally know what it feels like to be fucked nice and deep?” 

You want the mattress to eat you as he speaks those words, but your body reacts in a completely different way, burning up as your orgasm washes over you, leaving you breathless against the bed. 

Jeno pulls his fingers out of you, sucking them clean when he’s sure your watching. “Tastes so good, no matter what you say, baby.” 

You let out a shaky breath, feeling your body buzz in ecstasy. 

“Come here,” he says, leaning in, lips to lips, “taste yourself on me.” You kiss him with no hesitation, not because you’re eager to taste your cum, but because you want to feel him as close as you can. 

“Jeno, please,” you beg, cupping his face before pulling him into another kiss. “I need you.” 

“I know you do,” he says, softly caressing your side. “Can you take it, though?” 

You nod swiftly, hips desperately grinding against him, feeling his cock against your skin. “I’ll be good, I promise.” 

Jeno smiles softly, finding it so cute how you still worry about him when you should focus on yourself. He kisses you while his right hand is busy rummaging in the stand next to the bed to find lube. 

“But I’m wet,” you complain when you realize what he’s doing, feeling a bit guilty because maybe it’s still not enough. 

“Yes, you are,” he agrees, kissing your body as he slowly stands on his knees and positions you better on the bed. “But I’m big, and I don’t want to hurt you.” 

You purse your lips in a thin line, trying to don’t overthink this, but Jeno gets something is wrong. 

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with a bit of help. Also, lube can make things funnier, so why are you sulking?” 

“I’m not, I just — I want to be good like the girls you had be—” 

“No comparing, you are you, and I love you,” he stops you before you can finish, opening the bottle of lubricant but still waiting for your full consent. “Just trust me on this, alright?” 

“Yeah, I trust you,” you breathe out, voice shaking, and as you stare as he pours the cold liquid on his hard dick you realize this might be the smartest choice. Also, you have to remind yourself that porn is fake, and probably not even as funny as they make it out to be, so why would you want to ruin the fun with your boyfriend just to copy it?

“For anything, even if it’s just discomfort, stop me, alright?” 

You nod, feeling your nerves out of your skin, but Jeno wants you down on earth with him, and he needs to hear your voice. “Honey? What do you do if something’s wrong?” 

It takes you a while to realize he’s talking to you and even a bit more to answer. “I tell you,” you stutter, searching for his eyes because this is getting real and all your confidence is falling apart. 

“Good girl,” he praises, kissing you on the lips. 

When the tip of his cock presses against your entrance you know for sure using lube was the best idea he ever had in his entire life. Your jaw slacks, hands immediately reaching his back to sink in the skin of his shoulders as your chest rises heavily. 

“Honey, you’re too tense,” he says, pulling away. 

“No, I’m not,” you cry out, trying to push him in by locking your legs around his waist but he’s stronger than you and doesn’t let you do the dumbest thing you could ever do. 

“We don’t have to do it, you know right?” 

“But I want to,” you whine. “It’s just… big.” 

“Then we can wait.” 

“No, just… ease the tip in and then sink slowly,” you breathe out. 

“But you need to relax,” he says. “Let me do something.” It’s not what you expect him to do, but when his lips start leaving soft pecks on your skin, you can only relax under his attention. “That’s it, princess, loosen up,” he whispers against your neck, trailing down to kiss your chest, noting you’re still dressed in your camisole and he has to move it to have access to your skin. “Can I lift this off? Want to feel you close to me.” 

You hum, nodding your head in small movements as you try to relax your muscles. He quickly takes it off of you before going back to your skin, kissing and sucking, until goosebumps pervade you, distracting you while the fat head of his cock presses against your slit and you barely even notice.  

Jeno hums when he quickly glances up and you’re too lost in pleasure to tighten up around him, but he doesn’t push further in. “Good girl. Here,” he says, searching for your hand on the mattress, “hold my hand.” 

You do as he says, parting your legs when you realize he’s back where he was before, barely inside. “More, please,” you implore, meeting his eyes that turn into half-moons for a brief moment as he smiles back at you. 

He doesn’t ask more questions, afraid of tensing you up again, and pushes past your entrance. 

“Mhh,” you bite back, forcefully trapping your lower lips between your teeth to don’t let out weird sounds. 

Jeno stares at you, trying to study your body as he keeps moving, soothing circles on your waist. He’s barely halfway in and he’s not sure about what to do. 

“It’s… it’s weird,” you mumble, feeling shy when you two make eye contact. 

“Bad weird or good weird?” 

You shrug. “I don’t know, it’s not bad, it doesn’t hurt,” you reassure him. “You can push in, I’m relaxed.” 

You are, your shoulders are not tensed and your legs are parted on your own, your breath is also much more regular than before. So he does, he slowly buttons in, taking your breath away. 

You gasp, head rolling back as you feel full like never before. 

Jeno wants to back away when you start… laughing. “Are you okay?” 

You nod swiftly, “Yeah,” you smile. “It’s… I… I don’t know how to explain this,” you try to reason but truly there’s nothing rational about this. It’s the surprise because you can’t believe it happened and it’s the way it feels as your pussy automatically clenches around him. “I think you can fuck me,” you say, feeling the shame disappear. 

“I can take more time for you to adj—”

“I’m dripping and I’m ready for you, it doesn’t hurt,” you say, cupping his chin. “I’ve panicked about this moment enough, I know what I’m letting you doing.” You truly did, reading around way too much about what the first time felt like, knowing it wasn’t supposed to hurt or bleed like society said, and trusting him enough to do this. 

Jeno fights a chuckle to don’t ruin this completely and starts moving in and out of you. Studying your face with every move, his thrusts are slow at first, not only because he doesn’t want to push you too far, but also because he wants to see your reaction and feel you. Your eyes are closed while your lips are parted to let out the softest whimpers and moans, one hand is still holding his tight while the other is on his shoulder to hold onto him. 

“You’re so pretty,” he whispers, kissing you passionately, starting to pick up a rhythm when you don’t squirm away but your hips roll against his instead. “How does it feel?” 

“Good,” you cry out, “so good.” 

“Yeah? Told you it would feel good,” he groans, hips dragging in and out of you at a steady rhythm. He’d love to go faster, but he doesn’t want to hurt you or turn this into a bad experience. He wants to take it slow, and make you feel loved. “Better than those stupid videos you watch. You don’t need them to learn, they’re bullshit anyway, you have me.”

You groan, trying to hide away as you remember how he had caught you more than once as you tried to learn how to get better at this, no matter how many times he had told you he was there to guide you. “I will — I will disappoint you,” you cry out. 

“Yeah, are you sure?” He hums, kissing you briefly, hitting harder inside you, making you whimper a broken moan. “Then if you’re so afraid you’ll — fuck — disappoint me, it means I’ll have to fuck you more, ugh, how’s that sound?” 

You try to come up with words that make sense, but you hardly can breathe. It feels too much, lost in what’s happening now, and what is yet to happen. The idea he won’t hold back anymore, that at any chance he will try to make you feel good, and you will do too, sending your brain in a spiral. 

“Oh, imagining it already, nasty baby? One taste and you’re already addicted to this?” Jeno mocks playfully, cooing in your ear, sending waves of electricity down your spine. “Next time I won’t fuck you nice and slow on the bed, no,” he chuckles, brushing away the hair that is sticking to your sweating forehead. “I’ll get a bit rougher with you, do you want that?” 

You barely wait for him to finish the sentence and you’re already nodding, gripping harder on his shoulders, nails sinking in his skin, as you already savour the moment. “On the desk,” you utter shyly, slowly parting your eyes to meet his, dark and intense, piercing into your soul. 

He snickers, dick throbbing inside of you because he can’t wait to slowly discover all the little things you secretly fantasize about, he wants to watch your innocence fall apart right in front of his eyes, and he wants to be the one tearing it apart. He wants you to trust him enough to let him inside all your darkest and deepest secrets. 

“You want to be fucked on the desk?” He taunts, lightly slapping your ass, drawing a louder moan from you. “Yeah? Want to be bent over my desk?” 

You nod swiftly, trapping your tongue between your teeth as the intense feeling starts growing more and more in your stomach. “Wa-want you to pull my hair.” You’re not even sure you will like it, but you feel like everything is worth a shot with Jeno, you trust him, and you know he will respect you if you won’t like something. Even harsher things that scare you a bit, they don’t look so scary with him. 

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, rolling his head back, beads of sweat pearling his forehead. “You’ll kill me,” he whispers, teeth gritted as he tries to don’t sound too raw with his moans, but it’s hard when your pussy is gripping him so tight, your face is rolled back in bliss, your boobs are bouncing with his every move, and dirty words are coming out of your mouth. He’s not used to this and your curses, it’s used to your avoiding gazes and your small imprecations that are not curse words. 

You’re not used to this either. It’s like you opened the door to a new world and you don’t quite know how to move in it. There are endless possibilities, and you’d love to grasp them all now, but you can’t. You fear you can barely face what’s coming right now. 

“Weird,” you breathe out, chest heaving quicker as Jeno’s thrusts get faster and the hold of your legs around his waist tightens. “Too much.” 

“It’s not too much, princess. You can take it,” he says, kissing your cheeks. 

“No, it’s — it’s,” you choke on your words ‘cause you can’t quite explain how you’re feeling right now. 

Jeno kisses your lips again, it’s messier than before, and in the tangle of it, he asks if you want him to stop, but you don’t, and you almost scream a negative answer. “Please, no, don’t stop. I just — I feel like — I…” 

“It’s stronger than the other times?” He finishes for you, at least that’s what he can get from the way your body is squirming under him and how much cum is coating his dick. 

You nod, squeezing your eyes hard and opening your mouth to let as much air possible inside of your lungs. “It’s good, it’s so good, but I… I can’t take it.”

“You can, honey, you can,” he whispers, soothing you with circles on your hip. “Breathe deeply, like before.” 

You’d love to curse at him because how can you focus on your breathing during this specific moment? It’s impossible, and you don’t even want to. You like the way you feel upside down, it’s chaotic but good, and you don’t want it to stop. 

You pull him closer, kissing him harder, running your fingers through his hair to stop torturing his poor shoulders. “Want you, please.” 

“I’m here,” he hums. “Come with me?” 

You nod in a non-verbal reply, trying to don’t get overwhelmed by the feeling but it’s difficult, especially when his hand reaches for your clit and starts playing with it, and his moans get louder and messier. He sounds so hot, and that’s the last thing you need to let your pleasure invade you. 

“Jeno,” you scream his name, arching your back off the bed as pleasure runs through your body and soon after the same happens to him, filling you with his cum as he lazily pumps in and out to ride your orgasms. 

“Fuck,” he curses, letting his forehead fall on yours, pushing your legs closer to your chest before his movements come to a stop, and he feels like collapsing on top of you. He doesn’t, he keeps his body up with his elbows as he leaves pecks on your face. 

“Are you alright, love?” Jeno asks after a few seconds and you can only nod, still short of breath. He leaves one more kiss on your lips before pulling out of you, making you sigh at the loss of contact when he rolls to the side and jumps out of bed. “Stay right there,” he says before walking out of the room. 

“As if I can walk,” you giggle in a whisper, feeling your legs wobbly and your heart exploding out of your ribcage. You’re still lost in that daydream when Jeno comes up and starts to clean you up, doing his best to don’t overstimulate you — he’s got time for that.

You don’t say anything, only stare at him while his black hair falls on his forehead and you can’t believe you got so lucky. Once he’s done, he comes by your side, pulling close to his body and leaving kisses on your face. The one that breaks the silence again it’s him. 

“So, how was that? Good as you expected or did it let you down?” 

You giggle, moving your head so you can meet his eyes. “You really think this could’ve let me down?” 

“Well, I don’t know, I thought you were pretty vanilla and there you were, begging me to bend you over and pull your hair,” he chuckles, caressing your cheek. “Maybe your fantasies were different than this.” 

“It was amazing,” you smile, fighting the embarrassment caused by his words as you look at him. “Thank you for waiting for me.” 

Jeno smiles, eyes lighting up before his lips fall on your forehead again. “I would wait for you forever.” 

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

[creature-wizard]

A warning for trauma survivors looking for online support

You may have come across the acronym "RAMCOA", which stands for "ritual abuse, mind control, and organized abuse."

If you search the Internet for RAMCOA, you might come across a result like this:

If you click the link, you'll be taken to a site that briefly describes what RAMCOA supposedly is, with content like:

MC - Mind Control. A shortened form of TBMC, standing for Torture Based Mind Control. MC is also known as programming, where victims are repeatedly tortured starting at a very young age to intentionally cause a system of dissociated parts that function perfectly to suit the abusers' needs.

alpha : a base program, one of the very first implemented. it trains the victim's mind to accept every order given by handlers willingly. parts with alpha programming will often have no will of their own, and very little personality outside of following orders.

aiw : alice in wonderland. typically split into 3 different sections : black alice, white alice, and crazy alice. ideally, a system scripted with aiw would have all three. white alice makes sure the system forgets the trauma, black alice makes the system feel like theyll be a danger to others if they remember the trauma, and crazy alice makes the system think theyre making it up or going insane if they ever remember it.

Literally all of this comes from a conspiracy theory - specifically, the Project Monarch alter programming conspiracy. It was developed and pushed by far right conspiracy theorists. Most of what people run into specifically traces back to Fritz Springmeier, a man who claimed in the 90's that the fight for gay rights was part of a plot to enthrone the antichrist in the year 2000. The Project Monarch conspiracy theory was always adjacent to the Satanic Panic, if not a somewhat niche part of it. If you start checking citations, you will find many of these people citing Svali, a conspiracy theorist who gets a lot of her material from Springmeier. (Example 1, example 2.)

This is no accident. The term RAMCOA was created by the International Society for the Study of Trauma and Dissociation (ISSTD), which was created by and for psychologists who believed in the myths promoted during the Satanic Panic.

The RA part comes from "satanic ritual abuse," which was coined by Dr. Lawrence Pazder of Michelle Remembers (cw for descriptions of horrible abuses) fame. Lawrence Pazder is the man who effectively started the Satanic Panic. It cannot be overstated that Pazder, now a known malpractitioner, was considered the expert on ritual abuse during this time.

The MC part comes from "trauma-based mind control," which was coined to refer to the alleged abuses inflicted in Project Monarch. Parts of this conspiracy theory that can't be traced back to Fritz Springmeier can usually be traced back to Cathy O'Brien and Mark Phillips, two other (really racist) conspiracy theorists.

Ultimately, the entire conspiracy theory is constructed from tropes that go back to The Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion (a known antisemitic hoax), blood libel, and early modern witch panic.

Searching the Internet for RAMCOA resources, ritual abuse, or trauma-based mind control will always bring you to conspiracy theorists.

(Also, the term OEA, which stands for "organized extreme abuse," will lead you to conspiracy theorists as well.)

So yeah, if you're looking for support, be very wary of this stuff. It will absolutely not help you heal; just the opposite.

[gotta-get-back-to-hatchetfield]

Okay so I took some notes during the Hatchetfield Halloween party stream

This doesn't include spoilers for Working Boys (which was actually fucking excellent) and also doesn't include the proposed NMT3 episode descriptions just because I didn't screenshot and I've seen a billion posts of them going around.

Steph's mum's dead, Matt Lang says it's likely something to do with when Solomon Lauter says about the black book 'I'm never touching that book again'.

Nora is the owner of beanies

Melissa is a serial killer in every reality

The black alters constructed by the church of the starry children: Lakeside mall, Waylon place, the highschool, the starlight theatre, CCRP (formerly the site of the Hatchetfield Gazette)

Greenpeace girl's real name is Harmony Jones

Duke's dad was the sheriff of Hatchetfield and was murdered in October 2005 by Wilber Cross

Linda auditioned for Working Boys but was the only person not to make the cut.

Working boys was originally going to be much longer and more complicated and the black book prop was originally commissioned for it. In the end most of that content ended up getting lifted and pulled into nightmare time episodes. The song 'The Summoning' was originally written for Working Boys as the goal was to trick the cast into performing the ritual. This also originally wasn't supposed to happen in Nerdy Prudes.

They're keen to put the brakes on Hatchetfield at some point soon and the next musical definitely won't be Hatchetfield.

NMT2 ends on a cliffhanger because they originally intended to do NMT3 very shortly after to wrap up some of the loose ends.

Doing NMT3 will depend on demand. Writing a season of NMT takes about 4 times the amount of time as writing a musical and If they did NMT3 they'd want to make it even less zoom cally than NMT2 (i.e. have characters talking to each other) which also takes a lot of time and money. They are very keen to do it on a personal level as the arc from NMT2 currently feels unfinished but doing it will depend on demand.

They're keen to do more film style things akin to Working Boys.

Proposed NMT3 episode 'Bottle Imp' was originally planned to be part of NMT S1 E2.

NMT3 would revolve around Halloween.

They originally thought the musical trilogy would start with nerdy prudes must die and have the sequel be 'horny campers must die' (which became absintence camp), the third in the trilogy would have followed a similar plot to proposed NMT3 episode 'Devils night'.

The soldier referenced in the description for proposed NMT3 episode 'Orbweaver' is General MacNamara.

If they ever did another Hatchetfield musical at some point in the future it would be about Miss Holloway and her origins story.

They want to do a Hatchetfield movie at some point, and Working Boys was a test for how well Hatchetfield transfers over to that medium. This would have to be isolated in location and character list to be feasible. Their current thoughts for this would be 'Cast Party Massacre' which would involve a lot of the new characters we met in Working Boys.

[gaybananabread]

••@hexalianrebel-blackfeathers - I'm thinking #4 (Hide and Seek) with either Miguel or Doc Ock as the ler and our favorite Spider-Gang as lees.••

TickleTober Day 4 - Hide and Seek

~Okay, I’ve been so excited to write this one! I need to show the Ocks some more love, and I absolutely adore these two! This is stupidly long. I have no regrets. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!~

Lees: Miles, Pavitr, Gwen, Hobie

Lers: Otto Octavious (Alfred Molina), Olivia Octavious

Summary: When stranded in another alternate dimension, Otto is recruited by an unexpected variant of himself. Things get complicated when the Spider-Gang tries to stop their heist. Finding a heart, Otto offers an ulterior method to win against their young adversaries.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

Otto's life had been…well, interesting was a word for it. Just when he thought he was done being tossed from universe to universe, a random portal opened and yoinked him out of the current wrong dimension, leaving him lost once again.

The new world seemed…animated, in a sense. Otto definitely didn't fit the style, what with everyone’s 3D animationesque appearances. There was no way he could get around without being recognized as an anomaly, but he couldn’t very well stay where he was…

Before he could slip further into his thoughts, a small band bounced off his head and fell into an open robotic tentacle; he didn’t know it, but it was a Spider Society day pass. A woman’s voice called from above him, sounding eerily smug and conniving.

“Come with me, Octavious 96283. We have some pests to exterminate.”

-

“So…you built all of this alone? Without funding?” Otto looked around the small lab, wondering how on Earth the woman managed to construct such high-tech equipment by herself. It was in an abandoned office building, sure, but it was still a solid facility.

“Yes. It was a hindrance to use purely damaged technology and scrapped fragments from Alchemax sites, but I think I’ve created an adequate workspace.”

Otto would hardly stop at “adequate” to describe the place. There were monitors, a small dissection area, multiple glass test tubes with various liquids, and a research station; it’s a lab his teenage self would undoubtedly be envious of.

“You mentioned pests?” He tried to steer the conversation in a more manageable direction; maybe she’d help him get home if he fed into her plot.

“I did, yes. There have been more and more of these spider pests popping up since the creation of their little Society. After their mistake ruined my research, I figured I’d refocus my efforts on eliminating them all together, starting with unlocking the mechanics of their interdimensional travel.”

Olivia didn’t stop for a single second, flitting around her lab while she spoke. “I need your help with acquiring a few parts for my newest portal prototype. Just a simple heist, nothing too flashy.”

-

He should’ve known that was bullshit.

I mean, who actually told the truth when they said “just a simple” anything? Running through the bustling, animated city with thousands of dollars of technological advances in his arms. Olivia was a version of him, after all; he never told anyone the entirety of his plans.

Things went from bad to worse when he heard the tell-tale sound of web shooters firing.

“Damn those brats!” Olivia’s hiss put him more on edge than the possibility of being arrested. The spider he was most recently with was quite nice and empathetic, but he wasn’t sure how this universe’s protector carried themselves. Wait…did she say brats, plural?

“Drop the tech, tentacle heads!” A younger-sounding voice called out right before a ball of web fluid came flying at Otto’s face. He used a tentacle to catch it, but the mechanics of the triceps were immediately clogged.

The man got a closer look as the boy – probably, he wasn’t sure – approached: black suit, red details, thin frame, wide eye mask. Yeah, that kid definitely wasn’t old enough to be risking his life like that.

To his surprise, three more costumed teens – again, not a known fact, but they definitely seemed young – backed the black-clad spider up. The varying styles shocked him: ornate reds and blues, black and white with pops of color, and all-out punk outfit with the classic colors beneath. Yeah, they were definitely from different dimensions.

Olivia, on the other hand, sprang into action. She snapped a few lines of web that were shot her way, obviously used to fending off all four of them at once. Otto couldn’t help but wince as the ornate teen was whacked into the brick alley wall by one of her tentacles.

The one in white called out and ran to him – he assumed she was a girl, given her costume and intonation – while the punk charged Olivia. Otto was playing defense against the boy in black and red, trying not to hurt him.

While the man was putting up a pretty good fight, the black-and-red Spider-Man still managed to grab his duffle bag of stolen tech. Olivia started to shout at him to get it back before a small web smacked her in the face, covering her mouth. That enraged the woman to a new extent he hadn’t thought possible.

A lot of things fell into place for the man when Olivia lobbed a steel trash can at the lanky punk; they were fighting children, or at most very young adults.The rage in the woman’s eyes… Yeah, no.

Were the teens trying to arrest them and foil Olivia’s plan? Yes. Did that stop Otto from caring that they were probably minors who definitely shouldn’t be taking that many hard hits? Abso-fucking-lutely not.

Otto reached for the bag, hoping to get it away from the boy so they could just retreat. One of his tentacle claws managed to grab the boy's side, meaning to hold him still; what he hadn’t expected, however, was the boyish squeal that ripped from the black-clad spider’s throat.

In the midst of Otto’s surprise, the teen managed to slip out of the mechanical grip and…disappear? An invisibility power would have been incredibly helpful for the boy – that is, if the duffle he was carrying wasn’t still visible.

God, these kids need some proper training…

Despite his associate’s murderous rage, the punk seemed to have grabbed Olivia’s duffle as well. Behind him, Otto caught a glimpse of the ornate boy and white-clad spiders zipping up to a rooftop. Sensing that they were fighting a losing battle, the other two followed them up, duffles in hand.

“Damn it! I need those parts, or all of this will have been for nothing!” Olivia moved to charge after them, but the man held out a mechanical arm to stop her; her fiery glare was hard to ignore, but he did his best.

“Wait. I know they’ve been pains in the asses, but we can’t… Is there really a reason to truly harm them? You have to know that they’re hardly old enough to even consider doing what they do.” Otto spoke from his heart, hoping at least a fraction of his words would hit something human within the woman.

“What do you suggest we do then? Let them get away with hours of careful preparations and the keys to my plans?”

“I have a better idea. One that involves less…aggressive tactics. You’ll still get your revenge, of course.”

Olivia quirked a brow, eyes still trained on the rooftop the young heroes fled towards. The anger was still burning on her features, but a slight tweak of contemplation tugged at the corner of her mouth. “I’m listening, 96283. Make it fast.”

-

Welp, Miles was dead. Or rather, he was going to be dead very, very soon.

One Doc Ock was already hard enough to handle, but two? Even with his fellow spiders’ help, the teen doubted they’d be able to do much against the two forces. Retreat was one of their only smart options, but he could hear the thudding of mechanical claws behind him. The duffle bag in his arms seemed to weigh more by the second, burning with the knowledge that they’d be on his tail until he either forked it over or somehow managed to find enough time to portal out.

His friends scattered around him, fanning out in their practiced formation. They’d meet up behind a small bakery before portaling back to the Society. Unfortunately for Miles, that meant he had to find a way there by himself.

As Miles swung by an alley opening, a robotic tentacle shot out at him from the darkness. He managed to keep the duffle bag out of its grip, but the four synthetic claws closed around his chest in its tight grasp.

“GYAH- get off!” Miles’s heart sank as he watched the owner of the tentacle emerge, her cold eyes gleaming behind iridescent green lenses.

“Hello, little spider. I believe you have something of mine~” Olivia grabbed the duffle with her other tentacles, but Miles held strong; he did have super strength, after all.

“Fine. I’ll get that bag one way or another, you pest.”

Before he could wonder what kind of painful torture he’d endure, Miles felt the synthetic claws dig into his stomach. Caught off guard, he couldn’t help the giggly squeak that escaped him.

“GYEEhehe! Wh-whahahat?!” Miles wriggled and squirmed in the tentacle’s grip, the lenses on his mask wide and confused. It was almost cute, though Liv shoved that thought as far back in her mind as it would go; weakness wasn’t going to get her that tech.

“What? It’s pretty obvious: give me the bag, or I make this a lot worse for you. I don’t have anywhere to be, sweetie~” Liv teased him as she worked, trying to tug the bag out of his iron-like grip. She could’ve just ripped the bottom and taken the parts…but where’s the fun in that?

“D-dohohon’t cahall me thahahat!” Beneath his mask, Miles’s cheeks warmed with red. She was just trying to kill him a moment ago; why’d she switch to doing that?! He didn’t really want her trying to kill him either, but it was an insane jump!

“Thihis ihis stuhuhuhupid!”

“On the contrary, Spider-Man, I’d say this is quite informative. I get to learn all of your weak points in just a few minutes; I’d hardly call that stupid.”

As if to prove her point, Olivia dragged two of her free claws up the red marking on his suit, stopping right below his underarms. The shrill squeal the action received was utterly adorable.

Ugh, Otto got to me, didn’t he?

“NOHOHohohooo! Lehemme gohoho!” The teen clamped his arms to his sides, still somehow managing to hold on to the duffle. He was starting to wonder if it was even worth it… No, it was; the parts still needed to be returned, even if it meant sacrificing his dignity.

“As soon as you let go of my technology, Spider-Brat.” Okay, enough games; Liv wanted that duffle bag. Forcing his arms above his head, she sent two tentacles to claw at his armpits.

Miles was not proud of the sounds he made after that.

“NAHAHAHAHA! NOHOT THEHEHERE!” Miles’s mind nearly went blank from the intense sensations shooting through his nervous system. He released his hold on the duffle bag, trying to slam his arms down.

Olivia snatched up the bag, stopping her assault to securely wrap her tentacles around it. Miles was sort-of gently put down, curling into a ball on the alleyway pavement. What the hell…?

“Was that so hard?” She dangled the bag in front of his face, taunting him. Miles tried to get back up, but he was utterly exhausted; the best he could do was shoot a web, which missed Liv by around two feet.

“As much as I’d love to rub this in, I have places to be. Try to stay out of my way, little spider~” With that, she used her tentacles to scale the side of the alleyway, taking off on the rooftops. She had an annoyingly truthful variant to find.

Miles wanted to go after the woman, but he was spent; it would’ve endangered both himself and his team if he tried fighting in that state. Shakily getting to his feet, Miles made his way to the bakery.

Hopefully the others would fare better than he did.

-

Otto almost felt bad for the spider kid he was holding. It had barely been a minute, but the guy was absolutely losing it, snorting and laughing so loudly that Otto wondered if the one he was trying to bait had gone deaf. Where was that punk?

“Stop it! Let him go, tentacle head!” Gwen shouted and squirmed in the metal tentacle’s grasp, trying to get to Pav. He wasn’t injured when he got thrown, but she still didn’t want him to be getting…tortured? She had no idea what the villain was trying to accomplish, but she wasn’t about to watch her friend struggle without a fight.

“Tentacle head? Really?” Otto smiled slightly, turning his focus on Gwen. Pav was still getting his stomach attacked, of course, but the claw on his neck left to go toy with her. “Here I thought you spiders were supposed to be funny.”

Gwen squirmed as she saw the tentacle coming towards her, but didn’t back down. It couldn’t be that bad, right? Pavitr’s stomach was just stupidly ticklish; she could tough it out until either Miles or Hobie arrived to help. Probably…

“N-NOHOHOHOT HEHER! PLEHEHEASE!” Pav did his best to try and save Gwen from his fate, but it really only made the older man chuckle. The kids were ridiculous; it was kind of adorable.

“Sorry kids, but your friend has something I need. Don’t worry; I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

With that, the claw began squeezing at Gwen’s sides, her laughter soon joining Pavitr’s in the alley. Otto severely doubted the punk had gone very far; he just needed the boy to take the bait.

He wasn’t disappointed.

“OI! Drop ‘em, ya big sashimi!” Hobie swung into the mix, the second duffle bag hanging securely off his back. He slammed his boots into the tentacle holding Pav, causing it to drop the tired boy onto the ground. He holds up a shaky thumb before being waved away by Hobie.

“You kids and your octopus jokes.” Otto chuckled, watching his hostage stumble to his feet and swing away. The trust the kids had in each other was sweet, albeit a little optimistic.

“H-HOHOHOBIE! WHEHERE’S MIHILES?” Gwen continued to try and escape the tickly tentacle, but it was a lot harder than it looked; those things were strong. Hobie couldn’t help but roll his eyes at that. She’s being held hostage, and Miles is the thing she’s worried about?

“Ge’ your priorities straight, Gwendy!” Coming back around, Hobie fired off a barrage of webs, trying to jam the claws grabbing at him. It’s three against one, though; a claw managed to catch him by the wrist, yanking him up and into the air in front of Otto.

Hobie struggled in the tentacle’s grip as Gwen continued to laugh and kick at the one holding her. Otto knew his objective; he was just gonna goof off a bit before completing it.

“Now, I’m gonna need that duffle bag, kid.” Otto sent one of the tentacles out to try and grab the bag off his shoulders, but Hobie kicked at the biotech the moment it was in range. Fine by him; the hard way was so much more fun.

“Alright then. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, kiddo.” With that, he stepped forwards, squeezing the boy’s sides. Hobie tried to punch him, but one of his free tentacles came to hold the teen’s other wrist.

Hobue refused to giggle at first, just kicking his feet and trying to escape. When Otto reached his underarms, however, that dam practically exploded.

“GEHEHE’ OHOHOFFA MEHEHE!” Hobie thrashed about in the claws’ hold, his cheeks quickly heating up. Damn it, why’d he have to be so ticklish?!

“Wow. I mean, I wasn’t expecting my plan to fail, but you kids really are ticklish. It’s kinda adorable.” Otto teased them, willing the claw on Gwen’s sides to take things a little easier; he was mainly focused on Hobie.

“Shuhut uhuhup!” Gwen’s squeaky voice rang out beside him as she struggled. While she was grateful for the slight reprieve, Otto was still a villain. She was gonna escape and haul his strangely non-violent ass back to whatever dimension he came from.

It was at that inconvenient moment that Liv found Otto. I mean, it wasn’t hard; the sound of Hobie’s laughter and Gwen’s squeaks could be heard for at least half a mile.

“Seriously, 96283? Just keep him still.” Rolling her eyes, she went behind the squirmy teen and unbuckled the strap on the bag. It easily slipped off his back, falling straight into Liv’s arms. “Don’t mess around for too long. Those little menaces multiply.”

With that, she left Otto to his devices, getting away with the stolen goods. Hobie groaned, struggling against the claws to try and follow her. That struggle quickly changed focus when one of the wiggling claws moved behind his knees. He snorted, nose scrunching as a red hue burned on his face.

Okay, that was embarrassing. For once, he hoped Miles and Pav disregarded team protocol; they could really use some back-up.

Thankfully, those two could almost never listen.

A chunk of rubble slammed into the tentacle holding Gwen, causing it to reel back and drop her. A flash of red and blue scooped her up before she could hit the concrete.

Before Otto can react, a web ball smacks him in the face. He stumbles, the tentacles holding Hobie dropping him in favor of protecting their master. A black streak catches the tall teen, setting him down a safe distance away.

“T-toohok you lohohong enouhuhugh!” Hobie shouted after the other teen, struggling to recover from his rather silly predicament. Miles just stuck his tongue out at him before whirling on Otto.

Once Gwen was set safely aside to recover, Pavitr got back into the fray. He used his bangles and webs to sling-shot himself at the man, catching him in the chest and knocking him off balance. Miles followed suit, weaving around the tentacles to try and get as many shots in as possible.

Otto groaned, staggering as he tried to at least block the kids’ hits. He didn’t want to fight them, but…well, he did need to get back to his dimension.

“WAIT! Just- surrendering! I surrender!” Otto staggered backwards, holding his hands up defensively. Miles went to lunge again, but Pavitr grabbed his shoulder to stop him.

“Hey, hold on. He’s done.” For safety, the two webbed otto up, restraining his arms–organic and metal–before checking on the others.

Hobie, while winded, was okay; he didn’t seem too happy, though. “Whahat the fuck, Octavious? Seriously? Ticklin’?”

“Would you rather I have fought you by swinging hundred-pound metals at your heads?” Otto just smiled, apparently not that upset that he’d been caught.

“No, but…why?” Gwen walked over as well, still holding her sides; she played it off as crossing her arms. She scanned Otto with her watch, locating his universe; it was the newer, much more humane way they were returning the criminals to their dimensions.

“You’re all children, are you not? I figured it wouldn’t be too out of the ordinary.”

All four of them froze at that, sharing one quick “oh shit” look. How did he know? It was literally the first time any of them had seen him; what tipped him off?

“Hey, calm down. I’m ready to go home, not guess at secret identities.” Otto’s tone was strangely paternal, though the group chose to ignore that fact.

“I…whatever. C’mon, guys.” Gwen ushered the villain forward, dissolving the webs right as he stepped through the glowing orange portal.

After a moment of healthy silence to process whatever the hell just happened, Pav broke the silence.

“Well…that was eventful.” He chuckled as Hobie shoved his shoulder, happy to break the tension. Hobie used his watch to make a portal to his universe, tugging the joyful boy in to go watch bad movies and forget about the silly mission.

Miles took a few tentative side-steps towards Gwen, hoping to dissolve some of the awkwardness around her as well.

“Ya know…I don’t need to be home for a good few hours. We could go check out that new record shop in my universe, if you’re up for it…?”

“...alright. Can we get shakes afterwards too?”

“Yeah, no problem. Vinyl and peanut butter fudge await us.”

“Await us?”

“We’re doin’ a Shakespeare analysis, gimme a break!”

-

Oliva set down her duffles of parts, satisfied with how the day went. Sure, her variant was captured and relocated, but she got what she needed out of him. With the tech they’d managed to scrounge up, her plans were perfectly viable.

While getting the pieces organized, Liv couldn’t help but think back on the heist. One of her tentacles had a small glitch; she’d need to run a few diagnostics to see what went wrong.

She also thought about the hellions that tried to ruin her plans yet again. The method Otto implemented to subdue them, while ridiculous, had been surprisingly effective. The supposed teens’ laughter had been rather…well, adorable, for a lack of better words.

When he caught her reflection in the screen, she saw a smile, of all things, greeting her. It was a weakness, finding joy in such frivolous matters. Damn that variant and his infectious ideals!

Still, he was right; it was much easier to tickle them instead of fight.

She’d have to try it again in the future…

[twice-inamillion]

Childhood Dream

Fluff, Story Building, Light Smut (Handjob, Facial)

Chapter 225

1740 Words

(Sana has been interested in making one of her early childhood dreams come true. As a reward she gives you a memorable moment.)

Ever since you and Sana went to the construction site and took a tour of the house, she’s been a bit more happier than usual. She goes to your office in the mornings when you call on the progress of the house and eagerly listens to them. You even asked her if she wanted a copy of the plot and house layout since she would constantly look at yours.

Obviously, she agreed, and you got her a set. She would often ask you questions whenever she had a hard time understanding something. You were more than happy to help her out and keep her busy. Surprisingly, she picked up what you taught her quickly and even asked if it was possible to build something else on the property. 

“What did you have in mind?”

“Don’t laugh, okay?”

“I won’t, I promise.”

“I want to build a daycare.”

You see the seriousness in her eyes and ask, “Why do you want to build one?”

“Well… growing up, I always wanted to be a kindergarten teacher. Obviously, that didn’t happen, but after talking to Chaeyoung’s mom, she told me she used to work at a daycare after her children got a bit older. She told me about help experience, and it seems like having one would be great.”

You’re surprised by their conversation and didn’t know that Sana felt that way. It’s true that having daycare or kindergarten would be easier for members once the children get older. It’s even more important now after the experience that Sana went through; you can’t imagine what would occur if the public found out about the existence of your children. 

“You’re right. Maybe having one is a good idea. How about we talk to the rest of the members?”

Sana giggles and says, “I already talked to them, and they said yes.”

“Haha, so it wasn’t much asking me but just telling me to build one.”

“Yes.”

“Okay, did you have anything in mind?”

The two of you spend most of the morning going over where the daycare would be and how big. You drew multiple sketches and drawings of what the building could have, such as a room for infants, two- to three-year-olds, four- to five-year-olds, and a kitchen. Sana mentioned that having a nice kitchen with homemade meals, a teacher's lounge, and a large playground would be nice for the kids. It took a while until the two of you could finalize the number of rooms and if having the infants separated from the rest was best or if having them in a detached building was better.

“What about the teachers?” you asked.

“Well, Chaeyoung’s mom said she would like to be one of the infant teachers, and Jihyo’s mom said they were more than willing to help. Mina mentioned it to her mom and said she would be willing to move and help with the twins. I wanted to ask my mom, but I don’t want to mention anything about kids until I’m better.” 

You pull her in for a hug and hold her tight as she closes her eyes and relaxes. Once she’s a bit better, you both continue and decide where to place the build. “How about here? It’s away from the house, and we can have a nice playground.”

Sana looks around at the layout of the plot and agrees that having it away from the house would be best. “I remember my mom taking me to kindergarten on her bike. Maybe we can do the same,” she said, laughing as she tried to remember her childhood moments. 

“That seems like fun. I’ll try to see if it's possible to build it. I’ll try to get it started as soon as possible if we can.”

Sana stands up from her chair and kisses you on the cheek, “Thank you!” she skips out of your office and goes off to see the children. 

—————

A few days pass, and you come back from talking with the developers. Everything was approved, and I wanted to surprise Sana with the news. You walk to the living room and see her sleeping on the couch with Ari on her stomach. 

“Sana, wake up.”

She rubs her eyes and turns towards you, “No, let me sleep.”

“Come on, you need to head upstairs.”

“I don’t want to, I’m…I’m going to sleep here” and turns over.

You slowly pick up Ari, holding her in your arms, and walk her upstairs to Chae’s mom. You knock and see Chae’s mom changing Hina. “Aww, she fell asleep. You can place her here,” she said as she pointed at the bed.

You kiss both Ari and Hina on the forehead before saying thanks and heading out to the living room. “Thank you.” 

Now, in front of Sana, you nudge her arm, trying to wake her up, but it’s no use. “Alight, I guess it will be getting my workout for tonight.” You place your hand at each end and pick up Sana. Surprisingly, she doesn’t weigh much at all, and you can easily carry her to your room. You place her on the bed and ask, “Sana, did you wash your teeth?”

Still sleeping she mumbles, “Nee…” and tuck her in and give her a kiss.

You’re woken up to freezing cold hands rubbing against your thighs, “Good morning, Sana.” You turn around and see Sana with a smile, “Good morning, baby.” You chuckle when she goes up your inner thigh and into your shorts, “Wait, what are you doing?”

“Just wanted to say thanks.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sorry, but I heard your phone go off and saw that it was from a girl, so I am just a bit jealous. I read the text and saw that the permits and layout were approved. Said that you were going to have a meeting with the developers.” You see the light shine in her eyes by the news. 

Suddenly, you feel the cold sensation in your private regions and say, “Wait, what are you doing?” 

“I just want to say thanks. I know it’s not much, but I hope you like it.”

You feel her ice-cold fingers grab your limp cock and groan, “Ahh… fuck… it’s cold.” Still having the bedcovers, you can only imagine what is going on as you feel swaying your cock back and forth. Little by little, it slowly gets hard, “Are you ready?”

“Yeah…”

“Tell me if it feels good, okay.”

“Okay…”

With her thumb and index finger around the tip of your cock she slowly peels your foreskin back until your mushroom tip pops out. Now hardened, she pulls her hand back out and spits on her hand before going back down. She teases you by gently rubbing the tip of your cock with her wet fingers, making you moan from how sensitive it is. 

“Do you like that, babe?”

“Yeah, I do.”

She then grabs your shaft and slowly begins to stroke your cock. Sana kisses your chest, causing your cock to twitch. She increases the pace of her stroking, squeezing, and tilting it up. This causes your cock to throb and Sana to simile by your moaning. 

“Do you like that baby? Me stroking your big cock with my small fingers?”

“I do… I love it.”

She strokes it even faster and faster, as well as tightening the grip of her hand, “How bad do you want to cum?”

“I want to cum, I haven’t done it in a while.”

“Where do you want to cum?”

“Fuck… I don’t know, I just want to cum…”

“Want to paint my face white?”

Sana begins to giggle when she sees your cock react to her words of painting her face with cum. She flips the bedsheet over, revealing your throbbing cock, and crawls out of bed. She gets on her knees right in front of the bed. You get off the bed and stand right in front of her, stroking your cock with a firm grip. 

She looks directly into your eyes as she sees that you’re about to reach your peak. “Cum for me, baby; cover my pretty face in your thick cum.” 

You’re reaching your peak and can feel all your energy concentrating down in your core. “Fuck… I’m cumming! In one hard stroke, you watch as a rope of white hot cum flies and covers Sana’s. Her eyes are closed as it paints her eyebrows, nose, whole mouth, and small breasts. 

“It’s so hot! You must have been so backed up, baby.” 

“I was, but it was worth it,” you say as you look at the work of art you just made, using Sana’s body as your canvas.

She collects as much cum as she can with her tongue before showing you the amount of cum you shot in her mouth. She gargles you cum side to side and swallows it, then sticks out her tongue, showing you that it’s gone. 

“Thank you for the breakfast, babe.” 

She stands up, grabs her phone, and poses in front of her mirror, taking a photo of her upper body covered in your baby batter. 

“How about joining me for a shower?”

“I’d love to.” 

You smack her ass, making her giggle until you hear a pair of loud footsteps running across the hallway. 

“Apa!! Apa!” 

Both of your faces are horrified as the steps get louder. “I’m going to the shower; I don’t want the kids to see me like this!”

You quickly grab your bathrobe and the bathroom as Jisoo knocks on the door. Chaeyoung’s mom opened the door, and the two sisters yelled, “Apa??” They tilt their head and are surprised not to see you in your room but then hear the water running in the bathroom. “It seems like your daddy is taking a shower. How about we come back later and say good morning to him?” They both nodded their heads and ran out of the room. 

Chaeyoung’s mom was about to close the door when she noticed small stains that led from the bed to the bathroom. She walks towards it, sees the clear substance, and smiles before heading back and closing the door, “What a time to be young.” 

[dr-demi-bee]

Day 19--------------------Read on AO3--------------------------

Pairing: Miri/Gale(/Gale) Prompt: Double Penetration Simulacrum shenanigans, Miri is a lucky lady, Gale yaps a lot, very little plot here, NSFW!

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Miri sits on the end of their shared bed at home in Waterdeep, staring at the simulacrum Gale created. The simulacrum sits beside her, staring back with a warm smile - the same smile Gale usually greets her with. Mirroring his steadfast affection.

She's been peering at it curiously since Gale brought it- him- into the room. In so far as she can tell, the construct is an exact duplicate of her husband. Appearance, scent, mannerism... all the same.

Miri turns to look at Gale, who stands beside them at the foot of the bed, with an uncertain furrow to her brows. He can see the slight confusion and hesitation on her beautiful face. He steps closer and places a reassuring hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently.

"You can touch him, you know." He huffs a small chuckle, gesturing towards the simulacrum who remains sitting quietly, still wearing a warm smile. Miri's eyes slide back to the duplicate.

"Would he — " she pauses, her brows furrowing again "— you like that?"

The simulacrum chuckles. Pitch, tone, expression - all a perfect match.

"Of course,” he answers warmly. The simulacrum leans a bit closer to her, studying her expression with soft, tender eyes and a patient smile. “You of all people should know my answer to that."

Gale moves to site on Miri's opposite side, settling a hand on her waist and drawing a soothing line along her hip with his thumb.

She lifts a tentative hand and holds it out to the simulacrum as if offering it to a wild animal to scent. Those bright green eyes flicker over every feature of the magical duplicate, watching every small movement.

The simulacrum offers a soft smile before he lifts his own hand and gently intertwines their fingers, his touch warm and familiar. He holds her hand gently, his thumb stroking across her knuckles the same way that Gale has so many times before. The simulacrum shifts slightly closer to her, his other hand raising to carefully reach for her cheek.

Miri initially flinches back, still a bit skittish, but she forces herself to calm and allow the contact. The hand against her cheek feels the same as the one currently stroking a thumb along the arch of her hip.

The simulacrum's touch is gentle as he cups her cheek in his hand, his palm the same size and shape as Gale's.

"Relax, my love. I won't bite." The simulacrum's voice is soft and familiar, though his smile shows he's clearly amused by her hesitation. He strokes his thumb across the markings on her cheek in the same soothing gesture Gale always uses to calm her.

Miri lets out a soft exhale, her eyes closing at the sensation. Some of the nervous tension eases from her shoulders. The simulacrum raises their joined hands and tenderly kisses her knuckles while he strokes the markings on her face.

"That's it, my love," he murmurs softly.

Gale, silent beside her, moves closer and carefully slips his arm around her waist, gently pulling her closer to him. She feels him press a kiss on her temple as his simulacrum continues to comfort her. Miri hums a soft sound, quickly growing more comfortable.

As she relaxes, the simulacrum moves closer to her. His hand slides across her hip before he carefully lifts her into his lap, much like how Gale would. Gale's hands find their way to her shoulders, gently massaging the muscle while his simulacrum carefully maneuvers her into a comfortable position.

"Oh-"

Miri's surprised at first, but the feeling of both being in Gale's lap and having Gale's hands massaging her back is like heaven. She lets out a low humming growl and relaxes further.

They both chuckle at the sound she makes. The simulacrum cradles her hips as she settles against him. Miri sighs softly, wrapping arms and legs around the simulacrum almost reflexively. Gale continues massaging her shoulders, soothing and unwinding the knots in her muscles with practiced movements.

The simulacrum chuckles, pressing kisses to the side of her neck. Gale's hands find their way to her hair, running his fingers through her wine-colored locks with a usual reverence. Both of his hands start slowly massaging her scalp while his simulacrum nuzzles his face into her collarbone.

Miri's head tips back with a soft moaning sigh at the feel of Gale's fingers massaging her scalp. The sound of her moan makes both men hum, a low sound somewhere between a chuckle and a murmur of approval.

Both lean in to press a kiss on either of her cheeks, making Miri laugh softly. The simulacrum's lips pull up into a smile, and he moves to brush his nose against her collarbone while he slowly moves his hands to slide up her shirt.

Gale leans forward to press a tender kiss on the back of her neck, fingers still massaging her scalp. While he does, the simulacrum moves in and captures her mouth.

"Mm-!" Miri's surprised by the kiss, but it's so familiar - she finds comfort in the way these lips feel against hers. It only takes a moment for her to melt into their combined embrace. Having Gale kissing her hungrily while at the same time feeling his lips traveling over her skin, his hands wandering in too many places at once, has Miri's head spinning.

They move together, the simulacrum and the original working in perfect unison. They shift to move her further onto the bed while they continue to lavish her in kisses. She's hardly able to keep up as they maneuver her easily on the bed with sturdy hands.

The simulacrum slowly pushes her shirt up and over her head, pulling away from the kiss only momentarily. Gale watches them, moving his hands from her hair for just long enough to help slide the shirt over her head.

The simulacrum tosses the shirt to the floor of their bedroom and leans in to pick up where he left off, before his mouth and tongue working his way down the sensitive skin of her neck. Gale's hands return to her skin, smoothing up her back before turning his attention to her ears, working the sensitive, delicate skin of the pointed tip.

Miri lets out soft moans at the feel of his hands at back and breast, only amplified when Gale teases her ears. There’s a pair of hands hands kneading her breasts, caressing the expanse of her thighs, trailing down to her sides and over her hips to find their way under the waistband of her pants.

The simulacrum slowly starts to work her pants down, his teeth worrying the lobe of her ear as he does, drawing another sweet moan from her. The pair of men are able to easily slide the fabric off of her legs, tossing the pants away to join her shirt.

Gale gently pulls her into his lap while his simulacrum moves to kneel on the bed in front of them. He slowly spreads her legs, running his hands along her inner thighs, the touch so familiar.

Miri's panting, her mind spinning from the sensation. Heat flares in her stomach at the sight of Gale between her legs, staring hungrily at her. Or is that the simulacrum?

She tips her head back to peer up at the Gale holding her in his lap. Her hand finds it's way up to run her fingers through the scruff of his beard. Gale smirks back at her with that signature dark and hungry look. He leans down and nuzzles his beard against her neck, his hands slowly rubbing her thighs.

"Having fun my love?"

His simulacrum grins, slowly lowering himself between her legs, his hands gently caressing the insides of her thighs. He stares up at her, just as hungry as his creator.

"I- yes," Miri answers breathlessly. Her eyes move from one Gale to the other - their expressions equally arresting. "Are you? Is this what you wanted?"

"Of course, my love," they respond in unison, making Miri’s ears tilt up at the stereo effect. There's a deep rumble of laughter that rolls through both of them before Gale continues, "To see you enjoying yourself, absolutely. Just as I hoped you would."

The simulacrum slots his hands behind her knees and lifts her legs over his shoulders, bringing his face to her thigh. His breath is hot on her skin and her free hand threads into the simulacrum’s hair as she returns his heated gaze. Then she turns her eyes back to her husband, tilting his face towards hers with the hand on his cheek.

Miri's lips tip up in a grin, amused by the reactions. "But are you enjoying yourself, vhenan?"

Both smile and respond in a breathless whisper, "Gods, yes."

Miri giggles again, and the pair of Gales share a look and grin. The simulacrum chuckles and gently kisses her thighs in response, slowly letting his mouth and tongue wander up her thighs towards the center. Gale hooks a finger under her chin to tip her face up and bring her gaze to him.

"Seeing you like this?" Gale murmurs, "Happily being lavished by two of me at the same time? Yes, I very much am, my love."

He leans in to capture her lips once more. She can feel the evidence of Gale's enjoyment pressing at her lower back.

Miri breathes a soft moan into their kiss. Heat coils in her stomach, a wildfire unspooling through her limbs. The simulacrum's mouth meets her core and she whines.

Both men smile against her, enjoying drawing moan, whine, and growl from her. The feeling of her fingers in their hair, holding them against her skin makes them both shiver with pleasure. Her fingers in the simulacrum's hair pull gently, something that Gale always relishes, and he lets out a low, deep sound from the back of his throat in response. The wizard hums an answer, mimicking the sound his simulacrum just made.

"You like that, my love?" Both Gales hum in the same low, sultry tone that sends another shiver through her.

Her hips squirm slightly as she moans an affirmative, "Yes, Gale, yes-"

Both Gales chuckle at that, enjoying the sound of their name coming out of her lips, sultry and wanting. Gale gently holds her hips in place to prevent her from moving further.

"Such lovely sounds," he rumbles.

The simulacrum's eyes flutter up to her as he continues, his tongue tracing over her, gently coaxing her to say his name again. He continues to slowly tease her, his tongue carefully lavishes her sensitive flesh while his hands tighten against her thighs to keep her still. Gale continues to kiss at her skin, moving down her neck and collarbone.

Miri is quick to comply with those unspoken demands. "Ah- vhenan- Gale!"

Gale smiles, gently kissing her collarbone. "Again, my love," he rumbles between kisses. The simulacrum hums, the vibration adding and another layer of pleasure for her as he gently lets his teeth graze against her. He pulls away only for a moment to add, "Again."

"Gale!"

They both hum in approval, their hands roving and caressing, their lips kissing and teasing. Gale's hands slide up from her hips to her breasts, kneading and teasing the sensitive peaks of her nipples.

He gently nibbles at one long ear, murmuring against her skin, "Again, my love."

The simulacrum grins, his breath hot on her as he speaks, "One more time."

"Ahn- do not tease me, Gale," she pants. Their combined attentions have her hurtling towards release - and she knows they know it.

"Would I do that?" Gale hums against her neck, "When you're so close like this?”

"Tease you?" The simulacrum grins, the hot of his breath just millimeters from where she wants it. “When you're trembling in our arms? When you're begging so sweetly for it?"

Gale's hands continue to tease and knead while the simulacrum watches, hovering his mouth just over her instead of continuing. Miri whines and tugs in the simulacrum's hair. The simulacrum grins at the feel, a shiver wracking his body.

"How impatient can you get, my love?" The simulacrum purrs.

"Impatient," Gale murmurs with a laugh, his mouth moving back to her ears. He laughs again when he feels her writhe between them. "Desperate."

"Needy,” the simulacrum hums, just as amused, “Such a needy little thing, aren't you?"

"I should have known you would be worse as two," she breathes. Miri growls with frustration. Both men laugh at that, the sound a bubbling stereo.

"Worse? Worse than what, my love?"

"I think you mean better." The simulacrum kisses her hip, nipping gently at her skin.

"You can't tell me that having two of me at the same time isn't something you've craved."

The flush of her cheeks darkens slightly, and they grin at her expression. She has, plenty of times, imagined how it might feel. When watching his mirror images or when he has a simulacrum helping with work...

But not like this. Not twice the teasing.

"You are maddening," Miri complains.

"Maddening," Gale repeats, before gently biting her collar.

"Maddening, but good," the simulacrum adds sultrily, before resuming his attentions, his tongue swirling back around her core. She mewls, the feeling rocketing pleasure up her spine.

"You're enjoying it, aren't you?” Gale breathes low in her ear. His forefingers dance over the tips of her breasts. “You want more, don't you?"

"Yes! More, please!"

Both moan softly, murmuring their approval and shivering at the sound of her pleading.

"You're so good, my love," Gale murmurs between kisses along her neck. The simulacrum grins against her skin. "So eager, so perfect, so beautiful. How can I refuse such a lovely request?"

The simulacrum moves mouth and tongue with practiced skill, lavishing and swirling in just the right way to bring her the most pleasure. Miri's toes curl and her legs tense. One hand clutches tight to Gale's thigh while the other grips the simulacrum's hair. They hold her in place between them, their hands firm and steady, their attention unrelenting. She breathes out a ragged moan as she grows ever closer.

Gale whispers against the sensitive skin of her ear, "That's it, Miri, let go."

The simulacrum hums in agreement, not breaking his pace or attention. It only takes a moment more before she's crying out and trembling with her release. Both men smile with self-satisfaction, humming their approval in dark rumbles. They continue their attention gently, easing her through her orgasm.

"That's it, my love. You did so well. Such a good girl, so gorgeous, so perfect," they take turns to murmur their approval, watching her as she rides through the aftershocks.

The simulacrum hums as he lifts his head, his mouth and beard slick with the taste of her. He licks his lips, grins, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand as he rises to his knees.

The wizard and his creation share a look between themselves above her, then look back down at her between them. Miri trembles slightly, trying to find her bearings. Her hands grasp at them as her chest heaves.

"Ready for more, my love?"

"More..." She answers softly. Both men shiver at the sound, her voice low and sultry, the huskiness of it speaking directly to the very core of them.

"You're so good for us, my love," Gale murmurs.

The simulacrum nods, "So perfect, so lovely."

Gale moves to sit propped up against the headboard, gently pulling her into his lap and into an embrace. Miri hums appreciatively, pressing her chest against Gale's as she straddles his lap. She strokes her hands over his cheeks and through his hair, placing tender kisses over his face. Gale smiles warmly at her, kissing her brow and letting his hands soothe and stroke over her skin while the simulacrum follows to kiss and nuzzle her neck from behind. When the simulacrum presses against her back Miri lets out another soft sound - to feel her husband press against both back and front is an exhilarating feeling.

"You're both over dressed," she murmurs. Her hands slide down over Gale's throat to his collar, slipping her hands under his shirt in search of skin.

"That can easily be fixed, my love." Gale quickly pulls his shirt over his head and discard it on the floor somewhere out of sight. Miri growls appreciatively, her hands quickly moving over newly exposed skin. He shivers and moans appreciatively when her warm hands run over his skin.

The simulacrum chuckles from behind her, his mouth against her ear. "You're enjoying yourself, aren't you?" He asks.

"I think she is," comes Gale's response, his words followed by a low moan as her hands drift across his chest and down his abdomen, teasing with sharp nails.

"Very much," Miri answers. She turns slightly to make eye contact with the simulacrum, and pointedly tugs on his shirt.

Gale chuckles, "Such impatience."

The simulacrum grins and pulls off his shirt in a fluid movement. Identical to his original’s, both covered in the same constellations of freckles, both with the same happy trail of dark hair all the way down their stomach, both with the same hair on their chest. He grins down at her from his place behind her, looking into her eyes.

"Is that better, my love?"

Miri tugs him by the neck in for a heated kiss. He follows that tug willingly, capturing her mouth with his. Gale chuckles, enjoying watching them together, his hands drifting over her skin and enjoying the way her hips press against him.

"It's an improvement," she murmurs when they part.

The simulacrum grins against her mouth, "Only an improvement?" He mumbles between kisses.

"It can get better," she teases back. Miri slips out of the simulacrum's kisses to kiss Gale instead. The simulacrum laughs and watches her kiss Gale. He moves to press his body against her back, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck and placing kisses and gentle nips on her skin.

Gale hums as she kisses him, his hands finding her hips and pulling her closer, pressing his hips up against her.

"And how could it get better, my love?" He murmurs against her mouth. Miri's hands trail down to tug at his trousers.

"I think you know," she breathes back between heated kisses.

Gale chuckles and grins, his voice dropping as he teases, "Ah, I see."

"How eager," the simulacrum hums, his breath hot on her neck. He slips one of his hands down between her thighs. His fingers expertly find her clit and swirl gently. Miri moans, her head tipping back as the feeling makes her knees buckle slightly but the simulacrum’s other arm banded around her waist keeps her upright. He grins against her neck, and mumbles, "There you go, just like that, my love."

Gale takes advantage of her momentary distraction, quickly removing his trousers and tossing them aside. The simulacrum guides her forward, and Gale smiles up at her when her body is settled firmly over his. His hands find her hips, squeezing as he guides her to press against him. Miri growls appreciatively, gripping onto Gale's shoulders.

"That's it, Miri," Gale murmurs, his voice low and breathless with desire.

The simulacrum hums an agreement in her ear, his hand slipping between her legs once more - just enough space between Gale and Miri for him to resume his attention. Miri's hips roll, chasing the sensation from the simulacrum. She looks to Gale, eyes dark and lips parted hungrily, a wordless request for more. He smirks back at her, both hands grasping her hips to keep her still.

"Always so impatient, my love," he chides lightly, grinning at her.

"So eager, so needy," the simulacrum agrees and nuzzles his face into her neck, his breath warm against her skin.

Gale shifts, raising her hips slightly before lining himself up, his voice dropping lower to ask, "Are you ready for me, my love?"

"Yes, please," Miri answers.

The simulacrum grins against her neck at her pleading, his hands gripping her hips and holding her in place. Gale grins up at her with that same, familiar, handsome smile.

"Since you asked so nicely." He guides her hips and lowers her onto his aching length, his breath caught in his throat at the delicious slide into her wet heat. He truly can never tire of the delight of his wife. Miri sighs a rough moan - pleasure and relief both as he fills her - and Gale moans with her.

His head falls back, exposing the lovely column of his neck to her. Miri leans in to lick and kiss and nip at the sensitive skin. The simulacrum leans in with her, his voice low in her ear as his hands caress and exploring her skin, "You're doing so well, my love. Taking him so well."

The added attention from the simulacrum behind her has her shivering. Her hips shift with small thrusts against Gale, breathing soft whimpers.

"That's it, my love," he murmurs raggedly between breaths.

The simulacrum grins and grips her hips a bit tighter, nipping gently at her shoulder, his own hot breath on her skin. She whines against Gale's skin as the simulacrum holds her still. The simulacrum grins, using his hands to guide her on her husband in languid thrusts, his nose nuzzling against her skin.

"Such lovely sounds, my love," Gale hums, the words half lost between breaths.

"Such a good girl," the simulacrum echoes.

Miri mewls softly against Gale’s throat, the sensations and the praise making her shudder. The pair of them moan softly, the sound of her like music and honey. Both men nuzzle her, murmuring praise and endearments and love in her ear.

"So perfect," the simulacrum mumbles between kisses.

"You're a wonder," the wizard hums against her skin.

Miri's head tips back again with heavy pants, feeling near delirious at the feel of them both pressed so tight against her. Gale filling her and his simulacrum grinding against her back needily. They shiver and moan against her, two sets of hands gripping her skin and exploring her body while two sets of lips place hot, open-mouthed kisses on her skin.

"So lovely," both of them murmur against her skin, their voices low, breathless, and dripping with need and affection.

"Gale," she whines, desperate and needy.

"I'm here, my love," both of them answer, alternating nips at her skin.

"I'm right here," says one of them against her neck.

"I've got you," says the other, the simulacrum, his hands holding her hips firmly in place.

Both sets of hands run across her body, exploring and caressing and claiming her, leaving no part of her flesh unattended to. She can only whine and moan as they hold her, one of them teasing her clit with his fingers, the other kneading the flesh of her hips and rear. All the while they continue to kiss and suck and nip at her skin.

Gale moans softly, his hips rolling up to meet hers, her name a breathless mantra on his lips.

"Look at you," the simulacrum murmurs in her ear, his voice dripping with need and desire. She turns her face to nuzzle against him. "You're beautiful. Such a good girl for me, for us."

"I want you too," she pleads breathlessly, making the pair of them shiver and moan.

"Such a greedy thing," one of them murmurs against her neck.

"What do you want of us, my love?" The other purrs in her ear.

"Both," she pants, "Together," Miri whines, "Inside."

The simulacrum nips gently at her shoulder, his hands gripping her hips, his body pressed flush against her. His voice is low and wanton as he asks, "Are you sure, my love?"

Gale echoes him with a groan "Are you sure you can take us both, my love?"

"Please," Miri whines, wriggling between them. She needs it. Craves it. "I can-"

"Ah, my love, you're going to be the death of us," he duplicate murmurs against her shoulder.

"So impatient," the original agrees.

Miri whines again as Gale continues to drag pleasure from her with each move of his hips. All of their hands are busy working and touching and caressing her, making her gasp and tremble in their arms. The hand swirling her sensitive bud makes her back arch, and when another hand starts slicking her with oil she moans.

They shiver again, their eyes dark and hungry, their hands roaming over her skin, leaving it burning under their touch.

"Look at you, you're so good for us, so beautiful."

"So ready," the simulacrum mumbles against her shoulder, "You're so good for us, my love. Our perfect girl."

Miri leans forward to brace herself against Gale. Her hips shift restlessly as they work her open with deliberate tenderness. They watch her with hungry eyes, their movements getting more desperate and heated.

"That's it, my love," Gale mumbles, "Such a good girl."

The simulacrum hums an agreement, his lips trailing over her shoulders, "Just a little more, my love. You're doing so well."

Another finger and she's moaning and trembling - anticipation and pleasure both.

"You're so good, my love," Gale murmurs, "Doing so well for us."

He grips her hips a little tighter to steady her, while his simulacrum nuzzles into the crook of her neck. His words breathless and soft against her skin, "Ready for us, my love?"

"Yes," Miri pants, "Please-"

"Ah, you’re so perfect, my love," they murmur against her skin, their breath coming out in heated gasps. Both of them are so desperate for her, both of them needing her, wanting to feel her around them, needing to have her.

"So perfect," they breathe against her, Gale murmuring between ragged breaths, the simulacrum mumbling against her skin, "Our good, perfect girl."

Gale stills, holding her still flush against his hips. The simulacrum presses against her from behind, gentle and loving with every movement.

"Please," she whines again. She watches the simulacrum over her shoulder.

The simulacrum slowly slides his hips forward, gently pressing into her. Miri gasps and quivers, clutching tight to her husband. They shiver and gasp and hold her tight as the simulacrum slides steadily into her, both of them murmuring words of praise and encouragement and need.

"We’ve got you, Miri. We’ve got you."

"Look at you, my love," Gale mumbles between gasps, his eyes shining with adoration and dark with lust, "You're doing so well for us."

Miri tucks her face against Gale's, trembling with the force of her pleasure, her need. "Vhenan," she murmurs breathlessly.

"I love you," they both breathe, holding her tight against them, mumbling the words into her skin. She echoes it feebly, lost in the throes.

Never had she felt so much all at once. Miri's head is spinning. She whines as they hold her still, both pressed fully flush against her as the simulacrum stops moving. Both men loose long, ragged groans at the feel of it - of her and of each other.

Gale shivers, his head dropping against her shoulder, his voice low and strained with pleasure, "Ah, Miri, you're so good- so good for us-"

They shiver and gasp, the sensation of her in their arms, pressed so tight between them, is overwhelming. They murmur breathless words of praise and need against her skin. It becomes disjointed as they grow ever more affected.

Slowly, they find a steady rhythm together. Gale and his simulacrum move in concert, sliding in and out in alternation. The room fills with the sound of skin meeting skin and the soft cries of their pleasure. All three grow slick with sweat, hastily exchanging open mouthed kisses between heavy lungfuls of air.

And when at last they find their climaxes, a carefully orchestrated concert of thrusts and fingers stroking, they collapse in a heap. Miri lays languid and sated between them. The simulacrum gives Gale a proud, knowing smile. They cuddle her together for some time before Gale dismisses the illusion and pulls the covers over them both - Miri already fast asleep. This is one experiment Gale will certainly be repeating again.

@lanafofana @12thhouse-sun @waterdeep-weavemoss

@crimson-and-lavender @feedthepheasants @spooky-lil-bee