#i have SO many ideas just stuffed into here................ oh how i wish i had more time
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orcelito · 2 years ago
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thank god for my ideas doc to catalog my ideas bc i'd completely forgotten about my akeshu bubble tea shop/coffee shop rivalry au
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emphistic · 7 months ago
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hi emm! Since it’s prom season could u make basketball sukuna reacting to someone from the team asking you out for prom?
A/N: hii! i actually received a vv similar request a long time ago and i deleted it because i didnt know how to write it, so maybe this is a sign from God — my redemption time, LMAO
PS: sorry to all my readers who are actually jelly lovers, i am not one of you
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“So,” Gojo started, while shoving fries into his mouth, “have you got a date yet? Prom’s comin’ up real quick, y’know?”
The basketball team had just won their last game of the season, and all the players were eating out together in celebration. Sukuna was planning on just spending the rest of the night celebrating with you, like usual, but Gojo dragged him away and you only gave a thumbs up in encouragement. What a girlfriend you were, Sukuna scoffed, handing off your dear boyfriend to Gojo Satoru.
“Why do you care?” Sukuna grimaced at Gojo’s messy eating habits. How could one dare to speak while stuffing their face? Sukuna thought Gojo grew up wealthy, and, hey, aren’t rich people supposed to be, like, super into decorum? Where is this man’s etiquette?
“Sheesh, sorry for asking. I just wanted to know if my friend here,” he nudged Sukuna with his elbow, “needed some help getting a date. No need to be ashamed, Captain. I could hook you up with one of Utahime’s friends.”
“Yeah, no. But since you’re so curious, Satoru, I do have a date, actually.”
“No way, seriously? The big, bad, captain of the basketball team, has a date? For prom? I have to tell Suguru this.” Gojo whipped out his phone and, with his sauce-covered fingers, started typing like a madman.
Sukuna cringed, looking away and biting into his burger. This did not taste as good as your cooking. Why oh why did you let Satoru take him away? he thought. Sukuna would much rather be with you right now, even if it meant having to sit through one of your godawful rom-coms. Any of those would be better than Gojo fucking Satoru.
“I cannot believe he is missing this because he’s sick. Sick! That’s actually sick of him. Haha, get it?” Gojo leaned back in his chair, and Sukuna wished he would slip and fall backwards.
“There’s nothing shocking about me having a date, Satoru. I’m not some kind of loser.”
“Yeah, well. Yorozu’s not attached to your arm right now, so I thought—”
“I told you, I don’t like her like that. I don’t like her at all, matter of fact.”
“She’s, like, obsessed with you, dude.”
“I know,” Sukuna ran a hand down his face. “Just wish she would leave me alone, I’ve been trying my best to avoid her. And I haven’t seen her as often, so I think it’s working.” If Yorozu didn’t take the hint sooner or later, Sukuna would make your guys’ relationship known to the whole campus if he had to. Hell, Gojo didn’t even know yet. No one did, actually.
“Damn, so cold. You just gonna ignore her and break her heart?” Gojo laughed, but that quickly came back to kick him in the butt when he started choking on a fry.
“If you’re not joking, that fry will be the last thing you eat. I swear on your life, I do not want anything to do with that bitch.”
Gojo continued coughing and choking and shaking, but when all subsided and the white-haired man regained most of his posture, he posed the question, “So, you’re not gonna, like, ask me?”
“Ask you what? Ask you to prom? The fuck?”
“No, no, no. I mean, unless you wanted to,” Gojo tucked an overgrown strand of hair behind his ear, a stupid expression on his stupid face. “But, I’m talking about what I asked you. So, you gonna ask me if I have a prom date?”
“I don’t give a fuck if your lame ass has a date or not,” Sukuna spat out.
“Have you any idea how hurt I am now, because of you? Ehuhwaaa,” Gojo let out the fakest ugliest cry Sukuna had ever heard. “You think my ass is lame? Do you know how many would pay to see even a glimpse of my tush?”
“No. And I hope it stays that way.”
“I—how dare you.”
That night, Sukuna had to run away from Gojo in the parking lot of an In-n-Out. Otherwise, Gojo would’ve probably never left him alone. And, you might be thinking, Gojo is a fast runner. How did Sukuna get away? Well, it may or may not have been because Gojo had scarfed down three double-doubles prior. And he could barely stand upright without having to lean against Sukuna.
But, fear not, Sukuna did make it home, into your arms. And even though he did have to sit through your stupid rom-coms, he was so fucking glad to finally be away from that white-haired idiot.
Unfortunately for Sukuna, that peace and tranquility was short-lived. The next morning, he was woken up by your overly obnoxious doorbell. Seriously, when were you going to replace it?
Sukuna groaned, whispering into your hair, “Didn’t know you were expecting visitors, babe.”
“Hm?” Your voice was muffled; your face pressed impossibly close into Sukuna’s bare chest.
“Visitor, sweetheart. Someone’s at your door.”
“Huh?” You stuck your head up from your human pillow, and though missing the warmth, you were quite confused. Visitor? Since when?
It’s safe to say you were even more surprised to see Gojo Satoru outside when you opened your door. But you weren’t the only confused one, not for long, at least. Gojo raised his brow when he saw Sukuna emerge from behind you in all his glory: shirt nowhere to be found, hair unruly, and sweatpants hanging low on his hips.
“Captain? What are you—?” Gojo cleared his throat, “Whatever. Anyway, will you, Y/N, do me the honor of being the jelly to my peanut butter and going to prom with me?” Gojo flashed a smile so bright Sukuna almost fell backwards.
“Uhh, I’m sorry—”
“She doesn’t even like jelly, dumbass. And what’s with this horrendous sign? That’s seriously the best you’ve got?” Sukuna gestured with his chin at the poorly drawn and colored peanut butter jar and jelly. Not to mention, Gojo was also dressed as a sandwich, with two slices of bread on either side of his body.
“What the hell? How would you know if she liked jelly or not?”
“Because I’m her prom date.”
“And—and, what are you doing at her house?”
“I’m her boyfriend.” Sukuna glared at the white male, and slung an arm around your shoulder, out of spite.
Gojo paused, finally putting the puzzle pieces together. “Ohhh. So that’s why you didn’t want to come eat with us yesterday. And that’s why you were so desperate to go home. And that’s why I haven’t seen you with another girl in months.”
“Uh huh.”
“Anywho,” Gojo turned back to you, shoving his sign all up in your face. “Will you go to prom with me?”
“Dude.”
Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @taiyakii @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside @kelerina-ballerina @emikokomura
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ridingthatd · 11 months ago
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𝜗𝜚 ˖ ◜𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 ◜˖𝜗𝜚
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˖𝜗𝜚 chosoxfem!reader, nsfw, heavy smut, masturbation, breastfeeding, squirting, filthy, kinky, horny ˖𝜗𝜚
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you have always managed to make choso feel stuff he has never felt before, and by now he isn't surprised by the way you always manage to get him turned on by the smallest things you do.
choso wasn't the type to be sexually active, he never had any interest in any sexual activities, it got to the point where he thought he might be asexual not until he met you.
now every god damn second he's near you he's hard. it's concerning at this point the way his dick squeeze up his pants trying to get out free.
you smile at him. he's hard. you simply say his name. he's hard. you innocently wave at him. he's hard. you try to help him with his wounds. he's hard. just one touch from you and he thinks he could cum in his pants, it's driving him crazy why, how and when did he become like this, acting like a teenage pervert who never felt a touch of a woman. he hates himself no he despise himself for feeling like this, for feeling so helpless that he can't just have you, choso lost count from how many times he had dirty thoughts about you, daydreaming about ways he can make you whine his name, ways he can make you squirt all over his face, ways he can make his, fuck you, breed you, he wanna stuff you with his cum, he wanna see his cum squirting out of your pussy from being to stuffed, he wanna-
" choso?.." choso was snapped out of his thoughts by the one and only, the girl that has been driving him crazy, the girl that has him hard 24/7, the girl that is so innocent that she has no idea about how dirty choso was, about how dirty her boyfriends brother was- yes you were yujis little girlfriend, and this is what makes it more dirty.
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"I'm sorry the door was slightly opened, I didn't mean to interrupt your privacy" you said in the sweet angelic voice of yours, the voice that always manage to make him whimper from how close it has him cumming in his pants.
he takes a look at you from his desk, and oh god he wish he didn't, here you are in causal clothes, a long skirt that reachs your knees and a buttoned up shirt- no a half buttoned up shirt since you decided to leave the upper half open to bless him with the view of your cleavage, full and round, he bets they would be warm and heavy around his mouth, lash on your nipples they would be so soft, his spit coating them, sucking and gripping on them after an exhausting day.
he snaps out of it and scoff "what brings you here..?" he says in a cold, stern voice lazily moving his eyes from you to the book he was readin- he was supposed to read. "uh.. well.. um yuji said that you haven't been to the hospital after your injury since you hate the place and.." you take a deep breath while fidgeting around with the medical box you have in your hands "i.. i thought maybe i could help you treat your wounds here instead" you nervously say while chewing on your lips avoiding his eyes, choso is speechless how do you always manage to make him feel this way tug on his heart
you start getting anxious by his silence maybe you over stepped his boundaries after all even if you are the girlfriend of his brother that doesn't mean you can act this way, "forget about this-" you were interrupted by choso standing up and making his way toward his bed just to have a seat on it while staring at you with his cold eyes that never failed to have you on your knees "get in and close the door behind you" says choso, yet you still remind standing, speechless "what? weren't you the one who suggested this? don't make me regret my decision." choso said in a soft voice scared that you will change your mind and leave, scared that he won't be able to feel your touch, treating his wounds, hes gone crazy he wants you to treat him just to feel your soft hands on his back where his wound laid, his hard on is already pressing on the zipper of his pants, plusing and waiting for your response luckily he had a blanket on his lap to hide his pervert side from you.
"i- okay." you said softly closing the door behind you, for some reason the idea of having you on his bed with him and you only, door closed, makes him even harder he wouldn't be surprised if his dick sprung out of his pants from how hard he is right now. you take a seat behind him "may I?..." you ask referring to his shirt that you're about to take off, he slowly nodes breathing hard he can feel his whole body getting hot just at the thought of you touching his skin, you slowly take off his shirt brushing your finger against his skin every so slightly, choso fight off the whimper he wanna let out from how good it feels to have your cold fingers brush against his warm body, once the shirt is off you start rubbing a cotton on his wound "does it hurt?.. " you softly whisper sadness filled in your voice, but choso was to drunk off being needy and horny to listen all he can think about right now is the feeling of your hands on him, so good so good he thought, he can feel the percum on his dick, he thinks he might go crazy, his mind is blank as you start gazing your finger tips against his wound whispering so sweetly against his ear he can feel your hot breath " choso? is this okay?" and he lost it he let's out a loud whine that throws you off you quickly push your hands off scared that the sound that left him was out of pain "I.. Im sorry I didn't mean to hurt-"
your words were cut off by choso hissing through his teeth "don't stop." he groaned out, placing your hand where it was you freeze you didn't realize what's happening not until you saw chosos hands under the blanket tugging on what seems like a hard on- no no there's no way choso, your boyfriends brother- you were cut off your thoughts when you hear choso stumbling over his words "I'm sorry shit- im sorry, please don't stop please please" he whines out hips buckling up to meet his hands, he's basically humping his dick in front you while pushing your hand into his back, choso never been the selfish type but this time he can be selfish when it comes to you.
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mistywaves98 · 8 months ago
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Something I was just scribbling in my notes but decided to post to make up for my lack of writing these days
¡Warnings!: Super self indulgent, written at 2 am so probably has a bunch of mistakes and descriptions that don't make sense, Scara is super mean here, No proper ending, Pure smut!
Scaramouche had wanted to do this for so long, to finally corrupt your innocent little mind as he reformed your insides with his cock. When your parents announced that they were going to be away for a few days, he jumped at his chance.
The next thing you knew, the side of your face was pushing smushed against the one of the many pillows strewn across your bed. The fluff was stained with your tears, sweat and drool, your cries muffled further by the material with each push of his hand holding you down. Another propped up your hips so he could drill his dick into you from a better angle.
You had no idea how perfect you looked from his view, body limp beneath him as he pounded away at your pussy. A groan resonated in his chest when he felt you clench around him again, signaling the approaching of your nth orgasm of the night. His other hand reached down to play with your swollen clit, rolling and pinching the sensitive bud between his nimble fingers, relishing the way your hips bucked into his hand subconsciously.
You knew you were about to cum too, and dread filled your mind. You genuinely felt like you couldn't handle another orgasm, and you attempted to make it known, "Please Scara—! Hnn.. N-no more! 'S too.. Ahhn...! Too much!" Scaramouche only chuckled at your whiny pleas, purposely increasing his pace just to spite you. He was determined to make you fall apart on his cock, over and over again if he could. Because you looked so fucking beautiful everytime you did.
A partly concealed scream fell from your mouth as your climax hit you like a truck. Your juices creating a creamy ring around the base of his cock as he kept up his pace. His eyes narrowed as tears fell from your eyes, replacing the ones that already dried from before. Scaramouche couldn't resist leaning down, his bare chest flush against your sweaty back as his tongue darted out to lick a wet stripe up the side of your face. He swore his cock got harder as he tasted the salty liquid on his tongue and his fingers dug into your delicate hips some more,"You taste so fucking delicious. Go on, cry some more f'me, baby. Never seen someone who looked as pretty as you when they cry.."
You might pass out if you were to endure much more of this. Your teary eyes desperately searched for something to ground yourself with and they fell on your favourite teddy bear that you slept with every night. It's beady eyes stared right back at you and you felt sorry that it had to witness you in such an unbecoming state. Scaramouche didn't even let you turn the faces of your stuffed animals to the wall when he made his intentions clear. Your hand desperately reached out to the toy and you clutched it as close as you could, attempting to find comfort within your inanimate companion.
Such luxury was only momentary when you realized your grasp was empty once more and your teddy was lying pitifully on the floor next to your bed. Your cry was followed by a sadistic laugh of his own as Scaramouche moved the hand that was holding your head down to grasp your cheeks, squeezing in a way that puckered your lips as he craned your neck painfully in his direction. "Oh, you're too adorable! Trying to distract yourself with a stupid bear? I have a better idea, why don't you take what I fucking give you like a big girl, hm? You're not five anymore, you know." His words were full of condescension and mockery, clearly intended to make you miserable.
Sobs mixed with pathetic whimpers keened from your sore throat as you were cruelly reminded of his dick splitting your walls apart. Your hands found purchase within your pillow instead as you desperately wished this would be over soon. Scaramouche watched your dainty form with a smirk on his face. Your incoherent babbling was cute, as was the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head from the undeniable pleasure he was forcing on you.
Oh, how Scaramouche delighted in seeing you become nothing but a dumbed down doll used for nothing but his pleasure. Don't get him wrong, he loves you, but he loves breaking you more. He makes a mental note in his mind to do this more often.
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seravphs · 2 years ago
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ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — CHILDE x FEM READER
You think you’re being quiet. You’re not. Alternatively: when you can’t make yourself cum on your own, your roommate steps in. 
wc — 1.4k
tags — mdni, mild degradation, Childe is a little condescending, corruption kink, pussy spanking, mild dacryphilia
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You’re horny. 
For the past twenty minutes, all you have been able to think about is getting stuffed full of cock until you can feel it in your throat. You’re biting your bottom lip between your teeth, feeling your fingers swipe uselessly around your clit again. That tantalizing buzz of mind numbing pleasure is just out of reach as your fingers can’t manage to find the bundle of nerves that make you sing like the pretty songbird you are. 
If Childe was here, he would’ve been able to make you cum in seconds. You savor the imagined scene: him, in front of you, clad in only the dark jeans you saw him leave the house in this morning. His shirt is tossed somewhere in the room so you can see every scar cutting across his broad shoulders and toned stomach. 
Childe, you moan feverishly - in your head. He’s home, after all, just a room away, and you don’t want to break the tentative friendship you’ve just barely established. You’ve wanted Childe since you’ve met him, but you’ve only just gotten to the bare minimum of being friendly roommates. You can’t ruin everything now. 
No matter how much you want to push him down on the sofa you picked out together and ride him until your knees give out, you know the important if delayed gratification. Things like this take time. 
Your eyes roll back in your head again, thinking of his pale stomach, as white as a shark’s underbelly. You want to bite it. You want to leave a mark on him in a perfect imitation of your teeth. Just the idea of parading him around with the imprint of your canines imbedded in his flesh, proclaiming him as yours, makes you a little hotter under the collar. 
It’s hard to stifle the little gasp you let out as your fingers brush over your clit, sending sparks skittering through your bloodstream. His fingers would be so much thicker and longer, you think as you lick your lips. He could fill you up the way you wanted, the way you needed. Instead, you content yourself with the first slow press of your fingers into yourself when- 
The door flies open. You yelp and snatch the blankets over your naked body. 
“Ever heard of knocking?” You snap, using anger to cover up your embarrassment. Your heart gallops in your chest, both out of fear and desire. Underneath the thin blankets covering your body, your core drools onto sheets. Interrupting you had led to an unplanned edge, and now you’re desperate to get back to cumming. 
“Look at this,” Childe commands, hand waving towards his pants. He’s visibly hard, his cock straining the plaid fabric of his pajama bottoms. 
“What the fuck?” 
“Don’t give me that,” he snarls, advancing towards you with little shame. He’s too bold for that, always has been. Childe wouldn’t know embarrassment if it struck him in the face. It was one of things you liked about him. You wish he would have a little more shame now. 
“Take responsibility for what you’ve done,” he says, tearing the sheets away from you. 
“What have I done?” 
“Oh, are we playing innocent?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” 
“Enough is enough,” he grits out through a tick in his jaw. You’ve never seen him so irked - not angry, but annoyed. 
Horny. 
“I’m sick of you rubbing your clit all night and not being able to get off. How do you not know how to fuck yourself by now?”
“I-“
He’s not done. “I can hear you through the walls, you little minx, writhing and moaning and begging to be taken care of. You know how many times I had to secretly jack off cause of you? No more.” 
You’ve never seen this domineering side of him before. 
He grabs you by the waist and yanks you up so he can situate himself behind you. In a second, you find yourself trapped between his legs, walls on either side of you. His chest presses against your back. He’s so close you can feel his breath on your ear when he speaks, so low and soft your stomach tumbles into aching anticipation. 
“I’m going to show you how to make yourself cum. You’re going to learn take it like the good girl I know you can be for me. Deal?”
You shudder against him, trying to drag his hand towards your cunt already. You’re ready for it. You can practically feel the blunt pleasure of his calloused finger tips against your clit, but instead he holds himself steady. He’s not even trying but he outmatches your efforts. 
“Oh, you sweet dumb thing,” he coos. “I haven’t even started and you can’t use your words?”
“Please,” you whimper, tasting blood from your teeth digging into your lip. “I need you.” 
When he first pets at your clit, the sensation is so overwhelming your head knocks back, resting against his shoulder. Your body jerks rigidly as if electrified, hands pawing at his thighs. He laughs at you, a little mean and a little adoring. 
With one hand, he carefully spreads your cunt apart so you’re on full display. When you squirm, mildly humiliated and hot and desperate, his other hand comes down on your cunt. The pain is so good it makes your brain go numb with pleasure. He tightens his hold on you, pulls you closer as his hand lands on your dripping pussy again. 
Deliriously, you wonder if there’ll be a next time. If he’ll let you bend over his lap and present your ass to be spanked next, lovingly tortured by those beautiful, veiny hands. He grabs your chin and draws your attention back to him. 
“Baby,” he coos, “watch carefully.” 
The two of you watch as he presses one thick finger into you. His thumb traces small circles around your clit, keeping you ready for more, but not quite there yet. You whimper, heart in your throat. It’s only been around thirty minutes, but you feel like it’s been hours. You’re as desperate as a cat in heat. It’s all you can do not to grind down on his hand, even as he slowly scissors you open when he adds a second finger. 
“Look at that, pretty,” he murmurs softly. “You really needed this, huh?” 
You turn your tear stained face into his neck, feeling too naked, your body stripped down to nothing more than nerve endings. It’s hot and humiliating and you want him to keep calling you sweet names as he makes you watch him fuck you with his fingers. 
He indulges you for a second, nuzzling his nose against your hair as you whimper against his neck, eyes closed so your senses boil down to nothing more than the smell and feel of him. The wet sound of your cunt, echoes in your ears as he pushes you slowly but surely towards a precipice that once scared you. 
You could never reach it on your own, always pulling away before you got there. It felt like too much, but it frustrates you to no end. Unintentionally edging yourself left you so pent up you’re nothing but pliant in Childe’s arms as every circle of his fingers tightens the tense coil in your stomach until it’s ready to snap at any moment. 
“Open your eyes,” he commands, and you listen. 
You’d do anything he’d tell you to, at the moment. 
“Good girl,” he croons. “Fuck, look at you. How badly did you need this?” 
You whine, unresponsive, and clutch onto him. Childe feels a surge of a complicated mix of protectiveness and the desire to corrupt you. He wants to treat you gently. He wants to fuck you up. You’ve never been so clingy in the past, and he loves it, his sweet girl begging for him with actions and not words as you press yourself against him. 
You’re starting to hit the point you normally pull away. It’s getting too intense. You’re scared of what’ll happen when the coil of white hot pleasure in your stomach finally snaps. It feels like Childe is punishing you, unrelenting as he plays with your clit. Your legs start to close when he forces them back open effortlessly.
“Too much,” you whine, hands gripping onto his shoulders for dear life. “Too good, I can’t, so good.” 
“All this while you’re grinding on me like a little slut? I know you can take it, baby. Come on, give me a show.” 
He doesn’t even need to ask. When you finally hit the first orgasm you’ve had in a long time, your mouth drops open and your head tilts back in a silent scream, resting on his shoulder. You tighten up so much Childe can barely move as he tries to fuck you through your orgasm. You’re babbling nonsense as you cum. He only stops petting your pretty pussy when your legs twitch from overstimulation. You slump against him, exhausted. 
Post nut clarity hits like a truck. 
“So.”
“So,” you return. “This is awkward.” 
You’re slowly returning to your senses, squirming between his legs. A hand on your hip steadies you, prevents you from moving. 
“It’s only awkward if you make it awkward,” he says. “I’m going to order us pizza. What toppings?” 
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ereardon · 10 months ago
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Before I Knew [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter Four
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A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic
Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child? 
Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader 
Warnings: Pregnancy, cursing, eventual smut, alcohol, gyno visit
Chapter summary: Bob finds out the pregnancy; Y/N gives Jake and Bob an ultimatum
Masterlist here; previous chapter here
The Barbie movie said it right. It was always baby dolls. 
You were one of the girls who religiously carried around a baby doll. Buckled it into the seat next to you on car rides. Made sure to change its faux diaper. Prepared empty bottles of “formula” for feedings. So you had been sure you wanted to be a parent. 
But when reality hit you like a ton of bricks, the fear overrode that sense of longing. 
What if you weren’t enough to be a mom? 
***
Bob didn’t come home that night. So he didn’t hear you crying on the floor of the shower after Jake ran out. By the time he arrived back at the house in the late morning, hair ruffled and nowhere near his normal slicked back military neatness, you had pulled yourself together. Or at least, as together as was possible. 
“Hi Ducky,” he said, slipping through the front door, hanging his jacket on the hanger to his left. “How was your night?” 
You shrugged. “Fine. Went to bed early.” 
Bob paused. Then,  “Did Jake stop by? I think I remember him saying he would.” 
“Yeah, he did.” 
“And?” There was an inflection of expectation in his voice. Leading. 
“He stopped by, saw I was alive, and left. That was it.” 
Bob frowned. “He just left?” 
“Ran away, to be specific.” 
“Don’t think I’ve ever seen Hangman run.” Bob cocked an eyebrow. “You must have scared him.” 
“You have no idea.” 
***
Every time Bob went out with the team you made an excuse to stay home. You had a headache. There was a new episode of The Bachelor on. You wanted to spend some time filling out job applications. 
Each time, Bob would hesitate. You saw the wheels turning in his head. Part of him wanted to stay, keep you company, make sure you were alright. The other part of him was desperate to be part of the group. To see his friends. You wanted that part of him to win. 
You took Bob’s truck to the doctor. She squeezed jelly onto an ultrasound wand and you held your breath as the machine beeped to life. “There,” she said, pointing to a tiny fleck in an otherwise empty uterus. “That is your baby.” 
You let out a sigh. Not one of relief. Nor one of fear. Just a sigh. A part of you had been waiting to see it to know that it was real. Five positive pregnancy tests felt like unconfirmed trash until you could see it with your own two eyes. 
“The baby is measuring at eight weeks,” the doctor said. “Have you started on prenatals?” 
You looked down toward the end of the exam table. “I’m not sure if I’m having the baby.” 
“Oh.” Silence filled the room. She rolled back on her stool. “Well, let’s discuss your options.” 
***
When you were five, you had a tiny stuffed penguin that your mom bought you at the grocery store near the flower section. The penguin went everywhere with you: to kindergarten in your backpack, to the park, it got buckled into the car seat next to you, it sat on its own chair at the dinner table. 
And then one day, it was gone. You were inconsolable. Your mother, trying her hardest to put her foot down, said that you lost too many toys so she wouldn’t buy a replacement. You spent three days crying into your pillow at night, inconsolable about the penguin. 
On the fourth day, you were lying down to go to bed when the door to your room squeaked open. Light poured in, Bob pushing up his large glasses on his slim nose. “Ducky?” he whispered. 
You sat up, wiping at the tears on your cheeks. “What?” 
“Surprise.” He pulled an identical stuffed penguin out from behind his back. Your eyes went wide, a smile plastered over your face. You held out your hands and Bob stepped forward, placing the stuffed penguin into your arms. You held it tightly, vowing to never let it go. 
“Thank you,” you whispered. 
Bob smiled. “You’re welcome.” 
You fell asleep cradling the penguin. In the morning, your mom asked where you found it. 
Bob shrugged. “Must have been under her bed.” 
Your mother looked at the two of you. You were oblivious, happily eating your cereal. Bob was quiet, reserved. But when Friday rolled around and she offered to take him to the comic book store that he had been begging to go to, he declined. “Why?” she asked. 
“I can’t afford a new comic.” 
“You had ten dollars not two days ago,” your mother countered. “What did you do with all of that allowance?” 
Bob looked over at you, playing in the corner. “She was sad.” 
Your mother’s eyes softened. She pulled Bob into a hug. “You’re a good brother,” she said softly. “Come on, I’ll buy you two comic books.” 
***
You had hid the evidence well enough. All of the pregnancy tests were in the trash wrapped in toilet paper. The clinic didn’t have Bob’s address listed in their file. 
It was the fish tacos that did it. 
Bob had stopped by a food truck on his way home from North Island, and your stomach growled as you tore into the white paper container of tacos, snapping them up greedily. But intense hunger was followed by a wave of unmistakable nausea and in a second you were out of your chair, running to the kitchen sink, throwing up the remains of the tacos with a loud gag. Bob came running into the kitchen, eyes wide. “Y/N?” he asked softly. “Are you alright?” 
You ran the water, rinsing out your mouth, pushing everything down the disposal before straightening up and wiping at your lips with a paper towel. “Yeah, sorry. Think I got a bad batch of tilapia.” 
He frowned. “Food poisoning doesn’t usually come on that fast. Are you feeling alright?” 
“Yeah I’m fine. Maybe I’ll just finish dinner later.”
“OK, sure.” 
“I’m going to go lay down.” 
The nausea passed, as it usually did. By the time the sun was setting, you felt fine enough to wander into the kitchen, head stuck inside the fridge, frowning at the different layers of scents emanating. Bob’s voice startled you. “Something’s wrong.” 
You jumped before shutting the fridge, hand on your heart. “Bobby, you scared the shit out of me!” 
“No secrets, Y/N,” he said. “We’ve always been honest with each other. Since we were kids. You and me, against the world. You can tell me anything.” 
“I’m scared,” you murmured. 
“What is it?” In the moonlight streaming diagonally through the windows, he looked worried. Bob worried was a sight you knew well. He wore an air of concern in most situations. Since he was a child he had been nervous, worried, cautious. An old man in a young boy’s body. You loved him for that. 
“I’m pregnant,” you whispered. The truth felt like releasing every gas bubble in your stomach all at once. You felt weightless. 
And then gravity hit, and practically splattered you to the ground. Bob’s voice was no longer shaky. It was lower. Practically a growl. But perfectly crisp and decisive. “Whose is it?” 
You should have known that was his next question. You should have been prepared. But instead, you said, “Jake’s.” 
All of the air was sucked up by Bob in that instant. As if he were heaving it all in, preparing to breathe fire. You watched embers burn in his eyes. “I’m going to kill him.” 
“It’s not his fault.” 
“Then whose fault is it?” he roared and you staggered back, afraid of him for perhaps the first time in your life. “Fucking Christ, Y/N. You’ve really done it this time. Everything else, I could have handled for you. No job? I’ll help you find a job. No money? You can live with me. You need someone to proofread an essay? I’m happy to. But this?” He tossed his arms into the air. “What the fuck are you going to do?” 
“Be a mom,” you whispered. 
“You’re not prepared to be a parent,” he spat and you felt a flood of tears rush to your eyes. “You’re still a child.” 
“No I'm not!” you countered. “So stop treating me like one.” 
“Then stop acting like one!” Bob yelled and the sound reverberated along the empty walls. “You’re not ready for this,” Bob said, his voice lower now but still as fierce and hard. 
“It doesn’t matter if I’m ready or not,” you whispered. “I have to be. That’s the end of the story.” 
“You’re going to ruin this child’s life,” Bob said. His words cut. Never in twenty-three years had Bob said or done anything as painful as those words felt. 
You let the tears fall from where they had started to well up on your eyelid. “No, Bobby, I’m not,” you whispered. “And if that’s what you think, then maybe I really am on my own.” 
You were out the door before you realized you didn’t have a car of your own. You had no one to call. 
Just one address that was seared in your memory.
By the time your Uber pulled up to Jake’s house, the rain had turned from a drizzle into practically a hurricane. You scampered out of the backseat and down the driveway, taking shelter under the porch as you hesitated before ringing the bell, lips practically blue from the cold. 
Jake tugged open the door wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and no shirt. His green eyes widened as he took you in: drenched to the bone in a pair of pajamas, eyes ringed red from crying, no purse or bag, just a pair of flip flops on your feet. 
“Y/N,” he murmured. “What—”
“I told Bob.” Your voice cracked. 
Jake gulped. “Come inside.” 
He held open the door. You were as sober as they came this time. Last time everything had been a blur: your legs pressed against the back of the door as Jake’s lips suctioned onto your neck. Your bra flung on the couch, Jake’s jeans pooled in a puddle in the hallway. This time, you stood shivering in the foyer as Jake’s eyes roamed over you. Finally, after a moment, you said, “I’m freezing.” 
“Oh, shit.” That sparked a mission for him. “Here.” Jake gestured down the hall toward the bedroom. You stepped inside, trailing water along the hardwood floor. In the bathroom, he leaned in, turning on the shower, feeling the temperature with an upturned palm. “I’ll leave some clothes on the bed,” he said. “There’s, uh, towels in the closet.” 
“Thanks.” 
Jake hesitated for a moment. Finally, he turned to go and you heard the door to the bedroom shut softly. The clothes Jake left on the bed were a pair of women’s pajama pants and an obvious men’s sweatshirt. You pulled them both on and wandered out into the hallway. Jake was pacing up and down the living room, bare feet slapping against the wood. He had pulled on a t-shirt that was tight across his chest. When you entered the room he looked up, startled. “Hey.” 
“Hi.” You looked around. “Can I sit there?” 
“Yeah, of course.” Jake couldn’t sit still. You perched on the edge of the couch and watched as he crossed the room incessantly, shaking his head, the thoughts rolling around in his brain. 
“Seresin,” you snapped and he looked over. “Sit down, you’re making me nauseous.” 
“Fuck,” he whispered, sitting on the ottoman, one leg tapping. He looked up. “Are you OK?” 
You shook your head. “I don’t know.” “But, um, the baby?” 
“The baby is fine,” you replied quietly. “It’s me that’s not doing so great.” 
“Is it Bob?” 
Tears welled in your eyes. Jake’s face went ashen. You realized that Jake may have been just as scared of Bob’s reaction as you were. “He still thinks of me as a child.” 
Jake sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “He’s just being a brother,” he said quietly. “I understand.” 
“He’s going to murder you,” you said, only half joking. 
“Not the first time Floyd has hated me,” Jake replied. “And it won’t be the last.” 
“What’s the beef between the two of you?” 
“It doesn’t matter.” 
“Yes, it does.” You stood up. Now you were the one pacing, the legs of the borrowed pajama bottoms dragging around the floor. “He’s going to be the uncle of this child.” You paused. “And you’re the father. I need the two of you to get along.” 
“I need a second to digest this all,” Jake whispered. 
“It’s been two weeks. I think your decision is pretty clear,” you replied. Jake opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You glanced at him, eyes dry from all the crying. “Can I stay here tonight?” 
“Yeah, of course,” he said, standing up. “You can take my bed, I’ll stay out here.” 
“Thanks.” You paused in the doorway. “Goodnight, Jake.” 
“Goodnight, Y/N,” Jake said softly. 
***
A pounding noise woke you from an uncomfortable sleep. You sat up in terror, sheets tangled up at your ankles as the pounding continued. 
Then, “Hangman!” Bob’s voice was clear as day. 
You staggered out of bed, throwing open the door from the bedroom just as Jake opened the front door and Bob stepped in, reaching for Jake’s shirt near his chest. You gasped and his eyes flitted over Jake’s shoulder, widening when he spotted you wearing Jake’s oversized sweatshirt. 
“Keep your fucking hands off my sister,” Bob growled, his fist balled up in Jake’s collar as he stepped forward until the two men were nose to nose. 
“Let go of him!” you cried and your voice rang out, thin, in the large living room. Bob’s grip on Jake remained. “Bobby! Please.” 
His gaze turned to you, threatening to liquify your entire body with its intensity. “Go to the bedroom, Y/N. This is between me and Jake.” 
“Except it isn’t,” you said. “I’m not going to pretend to know what the fuck is going on between you two, but it ends here. You’re either both in or you’re out.” 
Bob’s hand dropped from Jake. “What do you mean out?” 
“Out,” you repeated, tears springing to your eyes. “Out of my life.” 
“Ducky.”
“Don’t Ducky me. This isn’t a game and I’m not a child. If anyone is being childish here, Bob, it’s you. Fighting to prove a point? What is punching Jake going to solve? It’s not going to undo the fact that we slept together.” 
Bob’s fists tightened at his sides. “Don’t remind me.” 
“I can do this without you,” you said quietly. “I don’t know how, all I know is that I can because I have to.” You turned to Jake. “I can do it without both of you. I just want to know – are you in or are you out?” 
Please follow my library page @ereardonlibrary as that will largely serve as my tag list. Anyone I previous promised to tag is here:
@bobfloydsbabe @blue-aconite @wkndwlff @mamachasesmayhem @mandylove1000 @djs8891 @clancycucumber230 @rosiahills22 @buckysteveloki-me  @kmc1989 @gigisimsonmars @eloquentdreamer @mjisbby @shanimallina87 @seresinslady @seresinhangmanjake @blackwidownat2814 @yanna-banana @bbyvanessaa  @mrsjobarnes @midnightmagpiemama @ingoaliesitrust @rockbottomphilosophies-blog @iangiemae @joaquinwhorres @boiolay @sometimesanalice @spinning-away @mycobrakai1972 @xomrsalliej4787xo
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sugar-omi · 1 month ago
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Sorry Omi, I just woke up with random 3am horny thoughts about Cove Holden thanks to your kinktober (which btw have been amazing. All of them. Thank you! I hope school work goes well, as well!) But anyways, random horny story idea is that MC is away at college and still very much pining for Cove, but had decided not to confess in step 3 becaue they were going away to college.... Anyways, they're busy one afternoon between classes, masturbating because they're so stressed about everything. They got a dildo pushed up into themselves but they can't see to cum at all! But that's when the phone suddenly rings and upon seeing who it is, they answer it without a second thought. Its Cove! He's calling about something or another and he knows you have time between classes rn... And you only realize after you answer the phone what you were in the middle of doing. It's not like he can see you or tell, but at first you feel incredibly guilty for having a dildo stuffed in you as you're innocently talking to Cove... but then something hits you. Even though he's just rambling about something, the deep tone of his voice and the comfort of his presence makes you want to continue... You were having trouble cumming and now, idk, the thought of continuing to masturbate while you're on the phone with your best friend (and the man you were in love with) turns you on greatly. You can't help but start to play with yourself, all the while trying to keep your tone even and listen to whatever he's talking about. There's so many ways this story could take a turn ahahaha Also! It could be reverse and Cove could be the one masturbating and answering the call from MC, then using their voice to help him cum <3 ~ ☕️(I should be sleeping)
thank you so much!!! im glad yall are liking the fics. i feel bad for being behind on the days, but i'll play catchup as soon as this assignment passes so i hope the wait is worth it. i know people were looking forward to ktober n so was i, i really want this year to be amazing 🥹🥹
BUT YES. THIS. THIS THIS THIS....
in the reverse and referencing day 16... cove who misses you so so much, and he wishes you were here, wishes he could hug you, smell you, talk to you in person.
is trying to get off after he had a wet dream about you. he's missed you so much he couldn't stop dreaming about you..
and when you call him for your routine phone call while you walk home from class, he doesn't think twice about it. he only realizes how much a pervert he is once you start talking to him about your day and he has to hold back his gasps and moans.
you're complaining about your assignment and here's cove, jerking off his raw dick to finally get that release he's been chasing since he woke up...
i could ramble about that forever, but god i love the inverse so much too.
you know it's disrespectful to do such a thing without him knowing, but every voice mail, voice note he sends you feel heat pool in your stomach from then on.
and oh god, when you finally meet up again.. even in just a few months, you can see how different he is. his shoulders a bit broader, voice more gravelly, manly. you feel overwhelmed with love, comfort, and desire.
it's such a hard feeling to navigate, because while you want to talk with cove, spend time with him before you have to go back to your home away from home, your body is swaying you towards your desires. pushing you towards insatiable neediness..
jfc i could see this idea GOING places..
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kitthepurplepotato · 1 year ago
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Shenanigans 14
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Chapter 14 Part 1 / Fake it till you make it!
Summary: Y/N and Bakugou go on a mission, pretending to be a freshly married couple. It goes unexpectedly well.
Warnings: Swear words, pretend relationship, heavy flirting, suggestive
First Part Master List
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It took Bakugou a full 30 seconds to lose his shit.
30 full seconds.
“Are you fucking kidding me?!”
“What the fuck were you thinking, you absolute moron?! That we will have two separate beds? In a deluxe room especially made for a freshly married couple?!” You try your best to not scream loudly at the stupid idiot standing next to you. His face is as red as a tomato and his body is trembling from all the pent up stress as he tries to explode the massive bed with his eyes.
“Shut the fuck, it is fucking obvious now, okay?!”
“Took you long enough, you dumb bitch!”
Okay, maybe… but just maybe, you are also freaking out right now. Just maybe.
“Call me a bitch again and I’ll make sure your mouth is stuffed until the rest of the FUCKING WEEK.” Katsuki hisses, his eyes full of anger. This guy will be in pieces by the end of this mission, that’s for sure; you have so many ideas on how to wind him up now that he can’t get too pissed at you for the sake of the mission. So many ideas. So… so many. Ahh, this week will be amazing.
“Buy me dinner first, will ya?” You retort with a shit eating smirk and it takes the hero a few moments to understand the hint. When the realization hits him he pales completely first then blushes like a high school boy. “Aww, are you a virgin? I’ll take good care of you, don’t worry, babe!” You really wanted to say this in a suggestive tone but you couldn’t help the giggles escaping your lips. He’s so fucking cute when he’s all winded up, goddamn it.
Mr. Dynamight did not appreciate your joke by the look of it, as the hero throws you on the bed in an aggressive but definitely sexual way and crawls up to you slowly while keeping your limbs and arms pinned into the soft mattress. You can feel your lower parts twitch as Katsuki moves closer to your neck, breathing heavily against it as his warm breath warms up your sensitive neck.
“Call me a fucking virgin again and I’ll make sure you can’t stand up for the rest of the day.”
“V…virgin.” You stutter, an absolute hot mess under the hero’s hold. Where is your dignity, woman?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!
It took you five minutes to end up in this situation and you have 5 more days to go. Fuck.
“You are insufferable.” He mutters into your neck and moves away like nothing had happened. You take a few deep breaths to calm yourself down before moving far away from the evil bed; you won’t be able to sleep a wink on this fucking thing after all this.
“Damn, husband well chosen.” You try to fake nonchalance by pretending to grin, but Katsuki only scoffs at your flushed face.
“V…Virgin.” He parrots with a shit eating grin, knowing he won this fight.
“Fuck you.” Well, that’s a childish retort, but your brain just got fried.
“You wish.” The blonde WINKS, and moves towards the back of the room when someone knocks on your hotel room door; you quickly put the hero’s disguise back before he opens the door for the intruder. And yes, you do wish. Khm.
“Welcome!” The staff member smiles, cheekily looking into the room for the second person. “Ahh, it must be nice to be freshly married, I was also unable to keep my hands away from my honey bun when we were on our honeymoon.” The old man stares at you with a dreamy face. “Oh, excuse me, I’m only here to bring your suitcases up! There’s a 24/7 restaurant on the first floor, but you can also order food into your room by using the phone on the right side of your bed!” The man brings the two suitcases into the room. “There is also a small convenience store just outside the building in case you ran out of necessities!” The old man winks at your fake husband and retreats, leaving nothing but awkward silence in the room as the door closes behind him.
After a few seconds you both burst out laughing. Hysterically.
“Honey bun, he said!” You cry, tears falling down your cheeks from all the laughter.
“Don’t laugh, sweet pea, he’s in love!” Katsuki mock-coos at you, making you laugh even harder.
“Oh my god, stop this shenanigan, I can’t cope! Who would say that?!” You giggle, trying your best to breathe.
“Deku, probably.” Bakugou snickers with another shit-eating grin on his face.
“Burnnnnn!” You giggle some more but your breathing evens out eventually. “This was fun, we should do this more often.”
“Me pining you to the bed or laughing our asses off at a poor little man?” Bakugou gives you a questioning glare, his eyes full of mischief.
“Honestly? Both.” You grin.
“You are such a flirt, Y/N.” The hero rolls his eyes, slowly making his way to the dresser to unpack his clothing for the week.
“Wow, you said my actual name.” You smile to yourself, lost in your thoughts for a second.
“Fuck you.” Is all the answer you get.
“You wish.” You strike back with his own words from before, which only makes the blonde laugh again.
You could get used to this; this bantering, like you’ve known each other for ages, to the the way you two just go back to your friendly bickering so easily after a moment full of passion. You two click so well together in a really weird way, it’s really hard to describe it but being around the blonde feels like home; even when life goes to shit, even when things get heated and you end up hating each other for a few seconds you are always welcome back when you need it, because that’s what home is; a place where you always have a place, where you belong, where you are loved and supported with all your flaws and stupid shenanigans.
With Katsuki, you can just be yourself and you really fucking love that.
“Hey, potty mouth.”
“Hm?”
“I hope this week never ends.”
“Jesus, that sounds like my worst nightmare.” The hero makes a scared face but he can’t hide the small smile on his lips as he puts his shirts into the top drawer of the dresser.
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The first day went by quickly; you didn’t really leave the hotel room but rather concentrated on packing out instead; after you both got rid of the tension between you by joking around, the room fell into a comfortable silence. Things got heated again by the time the sun went down and it was time to sleep.
With that said…
“Don’t be an idiot, this bed is massive, we can absolutely sleep on it without touching.” You look at the dumb, freshly showered blonde. The above mentioned blonde only pouts and moves his stupid little ass towards the small sofa on the other side of the room.
“Yeah, I highly doubt that after seeing you touching the shit out of me while half asleep back when you ended up in my flat.” The hero rolls his eyes and makes himself ‘comfortable’ on the stupidly small sofa. It hurts to even look at him in that position; his legs are literally dangling in the air.
“I had a fever!” You retort, staring at him from the comfortable (and evil) bed. “I think you are just scared to share a bed with a woman, KACCHAN.”
Needless to say, that did it for the blonde.
“I ain’t no pussy.” The blonde stands up and plops down on the other side of the bed, as far away from you as physically possible. You don’t say anything just roll to your other side to give the hero the space he needs and enjoy the company as you slowly fall asleep.
You wake up in the middle of the night to a rustle next to you. The blonde tosses and turns, then suddenly takes a huge breath, like he’s waking up from a nightmare.
“Fuck.” Bakugou whimpers helplessly and rolls closer to you on the bed; you can feel his warmth on your back which sends shivers down your spine but you continue faking being asleep for the sake of the other. Bakugo pushes his forehead between your shoulder blades while he takes another deep breath, his arm snaking around you to pull you close for only a second before he rolls back to the other side of the bed.
Your heart does a massive flip which makes you feel nauseous; you want to roll to your other side and embrace him, soothe him, kiss him until he forgets about his terrible dream, whatever it was about; but even thought the urge is strong, you stay on your side while you listen to the blonde taking a few more deep breaths before his breathing finally evens out.
You stare into the darkness for a few minutes… or rather hours before your heart rate manages to go back to normal.
You are indeed in love with this madman. Love with a capital L. You are not even going to bother to lie to yourself anymore; the pain in your chest is a good enough reminder anyway.
By the time you wake up the next day, Katsuki is gone; he comes in after a few minutes with a tray full of different kind of breakfast foods and sits down in his side of the bed like last night has never happened.
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After the second night, sharing a bed with Bakugou isn’t as awkward anymore. You two went out a bit yesterday to snoop around the kitchen area then talked about nothing in particular while sitting in the lobby, listening to everyone’s chatter to gain intel. The day was unsuccessful but it was nice to be able to talk to the hero without being screamed at for no reason.
As soon as the blonde wakes up the next day he starts to murmur about random things, talking to no one in particular until you wake up and start to listen to his monologue.
Apparently it took Bakugou two days until he got completely fed up with restaurant food.
You knew the hero is an absolute beast in the kitchen and that he doesn’t hate cooking but you didn’t know how much the blonde needs to be able to cook to to stay sane.
“It just… calms me down, you know.” The blonde says when you ask him about his cooking after his massive bitch fit, still in bed. “I love being able to create something that fits perfectly with my taste buds. My favorite part is preparing the dish though, I can zone out and forget about all the shitty stuff while I murder a potato.”
“Wow, harsh.” You giggle, but you can’t ignore the longing in the blonde’s voice. “Do you miss being home alone?”
“Are you dumb? I’m talking about cooking.” The man grumbles with a flushed face. “I just need to find something else to focus on, otherwise I’ll loose my shit.”
“I have some ideas how to turn your focus to something else.” You grin at the grumpy blonde but you don’t move from your side of the bed to not make Katsuki completely uncomfortable. It’s just a joke anyway, or at least that’s what you tell yourself.
“Well, thanks fucking much but I don’t do one night stands. Too old for that shit.”
“It was a joke, jeez.” You roll your eyes with a flushed cheek. “I don’t do that kind of thing either. I told you all about it on the wedding.” You remind him with a mischievous grin as the blonde looks away shyly, remembering your almost first kiss.
“Can you not remind me of that while sharing a bed with me? It’s already awkward enough.” The hero rolls out of the bed, making his way to the bathroom. Thankfully, he takes all the tension with him as well, letting you breathe properly for the first time today. You didn’t even realize the effect he had on you until he left the room.
You really want to talk to him about this, but you know it will just end up with a rejection so you decide against it; if you can prolong this for a few more weeks until you go back home and cry your eyes out in your own fucking bed in your own fucking country after leaving all of this behind… that would be nice. There is no way you can get out if this without a heartbreak, so you might as well just enjoy this until it lasts.
You also have a plan in your head to help Katsuki wind down, so you make your way down to the restaurant after putting your disguise back.
You might not be good enough to date the explosive hero, but you definitely are the best fake wife the world has ever seen.
… To be continued!
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Potato ramble:
- Sorry for the short chapter but I didn’t want to post the angsty part until I have the full thing written out and I’m still missing the last half chapter of this season. The angst will start in the next one though.
- I hope you liked the “sweet pea” reference! It’s a little something for the people who read my other series called “my weird roommate, Midoriya Izuku!”.
- I accidentally started to write an Aizawa x reader fix yesterday. I hope you guys will like it!
- I swear I have a job btw, I just use 95% of my free time to write. 😂
Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated as always! 💥🧡
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Taglist: @ibkg @chuugarettes @lilmaimai @nonomesupposedto @sozainturpal @luleck @notplutos @gold24fish @hanatsuki-hime
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book-nerd-emi · 25 days ago
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“Doctors Suck” (part 1)
TW: This story talks a lot about death and leukemia and this chapter takes place in a hospital!!
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As I open my eyes, the searing lights above me scar me. I blink rapidly, trying to get the pain to go away faster, even if it never indeed does. Once my eyes semi-adjust, my nose is hit with the burning-my-nosehairs-off smell of the chemicals. Every time I smell it, I just imagine the people who clean the rooms frantically scrubbing to try and scrub the death that occurs here. But can you honestly do that? It’s always there, never gone; the smell and everything that comes with it may leave, but the thought, the reminder, if you will, is always there. Somedays, I wonder if anyone’s died in this room I’m in. I wonder who they were and why they were here. Who misses them daily; who has that ache in their hearts that makes it hard to move on? Who can not look at a hospital anymore because it reminds them of that person’s last moments? Those last breaths? Those last “I love you”s? I make stories about those kids. I think I do it to make me feel more comfortable with the idea of dying.
Now, I know that leukemia has one of the higher survival rates, but there’s always that little voice in your head telling you, “This could be your last day, you know?” or “You could die today.” Like little Layla. She was 11. She loved animals, everything from snakes to dogs, fairies, and princesses. Her favorite color was blue for two reasons. One was that blue reminded her of her dad’s eyes. The second is that her favorite princess, Cinderella, is dressed in blue. She had a pilocytic astrocytoma brain tumor, but they caught it too late. I like to believe she’s having so much fun dancing with a prince in a blue dress; her kingdom is full of fairies and animals. Or how about little Miss Maeve? Maeve got diagnosed with leukemia, like me, but at seven years old instead of 10 like me. Even though she was so young, while she was here, in this bed, she found that she loved computers. She was exceptionally good at coding. I knew Maeve. She went to school with me; we were the best of friends. I sometimes see her sister Bronwyn around. I don’t think any of the Rojas will ever be the same. I think that’s the other scary part about death. The idea that I’m leaving all these people behind without me. I don’t want to leave them hurting like that.
Maeve, however, had a saying. “I’ll be in a better place with better beds.” I have to agree with her on this. The beds here are so uncomfortable. It feels like I’m laying on a bed of rocks with a scratchy sheet. Why are the beds so uncomfortable? Isn’t the whole point of hospitals to help people with their problems? If so, then why are we having the most uncomfortable beds on the face of the Earth in a place where you are supposed to be focused on healing yourself? Half the time, I am focused on the fact that I can never get super comfy in this stupid bed. This bed is covered in a total of 5 blankets, four pillows, and ten stuffed animals. And even still, it is not that comfy. All this just made it slightly more bearable.
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a/n: RAGHDHSODNRKR first (writing) post!!! this i think will probably be one of the longer sections for this chapter mostly just cause it sets the tone and whatever. this chapter is just so long that i physically couldn’t post THAT many words in one post. the amount of just stuff that NEEDED to be said in this first chapter is crazy. anyways i hoped yall enjoyed oh em gee!!
tags: @wish-i-were-heather , @shattered-glass-roses , @a-menace-to-society-01 (im sure others said yes or something like it but i don’t remember who sooooo just tell me if you want to be tagged ig)
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havesomeimagination · 2 months ago
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Darkness Settles In
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Author's Note: Hello to whoever this reaches! Welcome to my first short story. I do not know how this will go or how many people will see/appreciate it, but I love angst and rewatching Friends. I hope you like it. Don't be too harsh. Please let me know if you want more of the story!
Summary: Chandler and Y/n have been going out for a few months, but what happens when you catch him at his lowest?
You and Chandler have been going out for eight months now. You have been friends since college and reconnected when you moved into the city, consequently a block from the coffee house. He had asked you out as a bet from Joey because he was afraid of rejection, but here you are now. 
Experiencing the one thing you thought he’d never do. 
Cheat. 
Not just cheating with a random girl, no. Cheating with Joey’s girlfriend, Kathy. 
I had just gotten off work and was on my way to Chandler and Joey’s apartment when I saw the door cracked open. 
Did Joey leave in a rush to get beer again? 
I wish that were what I had walked in on. 
Instead, it was Kathy and chandler kissing. 
I had no idea what to do. 
What the hell do you do? The one person who you never thought would do this to you. Hurting you in the worst way possible.
The more I absorbed what was happening, the more I could only scoff and feel the rush of tears gather in my eyes. 
Time stood still when they felt that they had been caught.  
Chandler looks over Kathy and sees me at the door with shock and guilt in his eyes. 
“B-baby, it’s not what it looks like. P-please just hear me out.”
“NO-” he says as I rush out the door. 
He grabs my arm and pulls me back in the hallway. 
“Why did you have to do this? Out of all the men I’ve been with you were the good one, Chandler. You would never hurt me. You wouldn’t do this.” I said, getting cut off by my sobs. 
“Please don’t try to fix this; don’t contact me. Have Joey or Monica drop off my stuff. Goodbye”. 
Chandler tries to find anything to say at the moment, but he couldn’t. It was possibly the only moment where he did not have humor to depend on. He could only feel the consequences of his own actions. The guilt ripping him apart, making him feel a new type of pain. 
___________________
A couple of hours later, the gang finds Chandler staring at the table in his apartment. Kathy was long gone. 
Joey was the first to walk up and break him out of his trance. “ Hey, you ok?” 
Chandler just looks up with his red, puffy eyes, “Yeah, I’m fine, don’t I look it?” 
Monica walks closer as the rest just stare in concern. “ Chandler, what happened? Where is Y/N?” 
Chandler could only feel dread in that moment, the pull on his heart. She will never forgive me, he thought. 
“I, um, I kissed somebody else, and she saw. We are not together anymore; I feel terrible. That about sums it up, HA”, letting out a loud scoff as if he was in disbelief at his actions. 
A series of disappointed groans fill the room. 
“Oh god,” Joey expresses. 
They stand around processing what Chandler confessed to. 
The girls could not help but feel the need to visit Y/N. 
Rachel was the first to say, “ Look, Chandler, you know I love you, but this is your mistake. I need to go see how she is doing. I’ll see you later,” she said while patting him on the back. 
Monica and Phoebe agree and start walking to the door saying their goodbyes. 
______
The girls waited for a sign of life as they knocked on her door. 
Five minutes pass, and nothing. 
“ Hey, Y/N! Open up. We know what happened and just want to comfort you, distract you, or do anything you want.” Phoebe shouts. 
A couple of seconds later, the door opens to Y/n in the same clothes she worked in, makeup running down her face, and a stuffed teddy bear from her childhood. 
The girls look at her with sadness in their eyes. Seeing the one person who always was there for everyone else, a ray of sunshine, be so dark and dim. 
Y/n starts bursting into tears until Rachel is the first to engulf her in her chest. She needed her girlfriends there to support her. 
However, as time passed, Rachel, Phoebe, and Monica realized she did not want to talk. 
She would cry, calm down, and cry again. It was a continuous cycle that only stopped when she was lucky enough to fall asleep on Rachel’s lap. 
“I cannot believe Chandler cheated on her. I mean, look at her. She’s going to be like this for a while,” said Monica. 
“I thought they were each other’s person,” exclaimed Rachel.
Phoebe said, “ You know my psychic did say something about a tragic event happening within this week, but this is the last thing I ever expected.”
“This is not fair to her.”
The girls watched movies and talked while Y/n slept until it got late. Around two in the morning, Monica said she would stay there to keep an eye on Y/n while the others went home. 
When Phoebe and Rachel left, Monica cuddled up close to Y/n on her bed and fell asleep. 
The apartment has never been that quiet when Y/n is there. She always has the radio or TV on. 
But tonight was the most silent and dark it’d ever been. 
The sun was not shining anymore, not for anyone. 
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y-so-hungry · 10 months ago
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Hungry Boy: Chapter 2
Summary: Adam has been hearing Joseph's poor belly growling all through his shift at the diner, and Adam finally asked if Joseph wanted to come to his place so he could feed him. Here's how that goes...
Notes: Hey everyone! This is a RP I did with someone, who wishes to remain anonymous, but was happy to share with you all our story! There will be 6 chapters, they're all part of a single rp and I had to break it into chapters to avoid the story being WAY too long for one post. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!
Tags (for the whole story, not just this chapter): hunger, stuffing, starved to stuffed, stomach growling, belly rubs, light bondage, masturbation, cooking, friends to lovers, M/M
Read on AO3
"Actually... I was wondering if maybe you would like to spend the evening at my place? You can eat there, we could talk... Maybe I could feed you?"
That last phrase had a certain amount of lust in it that Adam had not entirely meant for it to have, but at this point he couldn't take pretending for much longer.
If the diner were empty, Joseph swears he would’ve heard a pin drop at that exact moment. Did…he hear that right? Did Adam really say that? Oh God, does that mean he could see through him the entire time? He couldn’t have, he didn’t say anything to hint at it– his cheeks start to grow redder and his neck tingles with nerves and sweat.
It’s not just that Adam suggested it… it’s the fact that Joseph has thought about it more than once.
“…um…” he chokes out, mouth completely dry. “Can I– can I get back to you on that? I need the bathroom–”
His legs start moving before he’s even able to finish the sentence.
Adam opened his mouth, but once again Joseph had sped away before he could get a word out. Damn, did he mess up? It was hard to tell, Joseph was flustered certainly, but Adam wasn't sure if it was in a good way or not. His belly gurgled just then, annoyed at there being food in front of him and having only a fry to digest so far. He quickly started to dig into his food, his stomach grumbling hungrily with each swallow.
If Joseph wasn't out by the time he was done with his burger he'd go check on him.
Hurrying past the other employees, making sure not to make eye contact with any of them, Joseph slid into the employee bathrooms and promptly locked the door. He leans against the wall with a sigh, only to tense up as his stomach let loose many rumbling gurgles one after another. He cups his hands around it and closes his eyes.
“Fuck…” he sighs, feeling his legs cross over. “It feels so good…”
Only in his dreams could he imagine Adam asking him such a thing. Even the mere idea seemed foreign. To be fed by the person he’d been dreaming of kissing for months, especially with a stomach as empty and hollow as his, almost feels like a prank with some hidden camera that he has yet to find. God forbid it’s in the stall, this imaginary audience doesn’t need to see Joseph get off to his own belly making noises.
Just a few minutes, he thinks, letting the grumbles come out freely and biting back a moan. Just a bit longer and you can go out and tell him yes, you’d love to try that.
Adam meant to go back and check on Joseph once he was finished with his burger, but that didn't exactly go to plan. He'd been so hungry he kind of got lost in it, inhaling his burger and fries so quickly it took him a second to realize they were gone once he finished. By then he didn't want to stop, so he ate the chicken strips too, and was sucking down his milkshake before he remembered he'd meant to check on Joseph. 
His stomach felt much better however, and very suddenly he seemed to have a lot more energy to be thinking about how hungry Joseph was right now, being that he was no longer distracted by the noises in his own belly. Gods how all he wanted was to rub his belly and feel it rumbling under his fingers, kiss him while his stomach growled. He wanted to feed him and stuff him full, make hunger and fullness feel equally amazing.... 
Jeez I hope my face isn't too red right now.
A few minutes pass, and with a calmer mind and (finally) a calmer belly, Joseph unlocks the door and steps back into the diner, heading straight for Adam's table once again.
"Hey Ad–" he begins, before doing a double take at the empty plates sat upon the table. Had Adam really eaten everything already? God, he must have been famished. Joseph is quick to recover, however. "Hey Adam. Um, so...I-I'm sorry for just leaving you like that, I just… had to think… and I think I'd like to give it a try."
"Really?" Adam says excitedly. "You want to? You're sure? Sorry if I was too forward, I was starving and I--Well honestly it's hard to think straight around you even when I'm not running on empty."
You're rambling. Pull it together Adam, he thought to himself.
Though he doesn't mean to, Joseph can't help but smile hopefully at Adam's words. Can't think straight? Is he confessing something? he thinks. He can think more about it later, now he has questions to answer.
"Y-you're fine, I promise. I just- I wasn't expecting it is all. Um, if you don't mind waiting until my shift is over, we could leave at the same time...if you want?"
"Of course! And hey, think about what you want to eat, yeah? Whether it's diner food or something homemade by your favorite chef," Adam gives an overly charming wink, "I'm happy to give that belly of yours whatever it wants."
The wink sends small shockwaves along Joseph's back, reaching right up to his neck. If his cheeks became any redder, he would look sunburnt. Not only that, his stomach gives off another grumble, only this time it's a lot calmer, still empty but not strong enough to make him wriggle. As silly as the idea sounds, he considers the possibility that it too is yearning for Adam in some way.
"That… that would be nice," he mumbles shyly. "Okay, um, I'll get back to serving the other customers. Don't want to leave them with empty bellies, heh. S-see you soon."
As he walks away, he feels a mental palm slap his forehead. Why did you say that?! Don't think about the other customers! he yells at himself. Maybe his hunger is still just as strong as earlier...
Adam smiles at the small grumble Joseph's stomach makes, enjoying knowing that it's grumbling for food that Adam will be feeding it now. "See you soon," he replies. He spends the rest of Joseph's shift gazing at him dreamily as he takes more orders, serves more food. His stomach gurgles a few more times as he passes Adam, and once again all Adam can think about is taking him home and feeling that hungry belly in his hands.
The last half an hour feels like forever to Joseph, despite there being fewer and fewer tables to serve. Maybe the hunger is starting to make him slow down? Or maybe he's just too eager to go back to Adam's place and be fed something– either way, Joseph lets out a relieved sigh as he slips into the back and unties his apron, placing the notebook and pen away and wrapping himself in his coat. Thankfully it's a lot thicker than his uniform, so the rumbles from his belly are muffled underneath. He practically sprints to Adam's table when he's back in the diner.
"You ready?" he asks eagerly.
Adam jumps up with a grin. 
"Always. Want me to drive us there? Unless you'd rather drive yourself?" Part of him hoped he'd come with him, just so he could hear Joseph's belly grumbling along the way...
"Honestly, I think it's best if you drive–" Joseph places a hand on his belly absentmindedly, and surprisingly, it stays quiet. "I'm so hungry I don't think I'll be able to focus on the road."
"Aw you poor thing," Adam hums. He puts an arm around Joseph's waist as they walk out of the diner, his fingertips resting on the side of Joseph's stomach. "Is this alright?" he says in a low voice.
Joseph gasps, eyes darting down. It's happening, it's really happening- "Y-yes, yes, it's–k-keep it there, yes."
Suddenly, an idea pops into Joseph's head. With Adam's hand there, maybe he could… he quickly glances at Adam and, making sure to be as discreet as possible, he attempts to swallow a bubble of air and clench his stomach at the same time. The technique's worked before, maybe it'll work now?
"I'll get started on making you something to eat as soon as we get home," Adam says as they walk to his car. "I have plenty of ingredients for anything you might want, pasta, burgers, soup--" Suddenly Joseph's stomach interrupts him with a long, absolutely ravenous growl. He could feel the organ vibrating against his fingers, even through Joseph's coat, and before Adam could stop himself, his other hand had come out of his pocket and was resting against the front of Joseph's belly, feeling it rumbling under his hand. 
"Man," Adam said a little breathlessly. "You're really starved aren't you? You sound so empty...."
The vibrations from his stomach against his ribs, along with Adam's hands pressing into his gut, makes Joseph's eyes slowly slip closed, or at least enough to where he could still see. Holy shit, that felt great. Depending on how hungry he feels on the way to Adam's house, he's unsure if he'll even make it.
"I am… I'm so empty…” he drawls, tensing slightly when he and Adam step outside. "...um, when we get to your car, can I tell you something?"
"Of-Of course!" Adam says, and he takes his hand away as they want to his car, a cold breeze in the air. Once they reach it he has to take his other hand away too, slightly disappointed he wouldn't be touching Joseph's belly anymore. When they got inside Adam turned on the car to warm it up and then turned to Joseph. "What's up? Everything alright?"
Joseph takes his seat and pulls the seatbelt over, taking a deep breath. This is what he's been waiting for… well, partially.
"Okay, so...this is gonna sound weird, but...since we're already planning on going back to your house, I figured now would be a good time to tell you, heh. Um… I-I kind of… like it when my stomach rumbles. Like, a lot. I-I don't know if I made it obvious in the diner, but–that's kinda why I was acting so weird. I felt like if I didn't go somewhere to calm down, I would've… well, y'know."
It's definitely embarrassing to talk about, but Joseph can't deny the weight that's been lifted. In fact, the relief causes his stomach to groan loudly again, long and drawn out, but he doesn't hold back his pleasured humming.
"But fuck, does it feel good…” he moans, eyes closed in bliss.
Adam blinks, staring wide eyed at Joseph for a moment, hearing his words but having a hard time believing them. It feels a bit too good to be true.
Adam reaches over and places his hand on Joseph's stomach as it rumbles again, and he smiles.
"Feels good to me too," he says. He laughs at the surprise on Joseph's face and continues. "I actually have the same thing oddly enough. Usually I like it when other people's stomachs are rumbling though. Sometimes it's nice when I'm hungry--I mean when both our bellies were growling back in the diner I could barely keep it together--but something about seeing you so hungry… I don't know what it is but I can't get enough of it."
Adam’s hand on his belly makes Joseph bite his lower lip, unable to keep his eyes off of it. God, if only he were alone right now; he’d have so much material to work with in his head. For now, he’s okay with simply wriggling around in his seat as Adam’s fingers press deeper into his rumbling gut.
“I’ve… definitely got a loud stomach, that’s for sure,” he hums. “You know, I don’t know if this is weird to admit but… when our stomachs were rumbling in the diner, it was like I was living one of my fantasies. I don’t know if I, uh, still need to admit it at this point but… I think about you sometimes. When my belly growls.”
"Oh yeah?" Adam says, his voice growing low as he began to rub slow circles into Joseph's middle. "What do you think about?"
“Oh God–” Joseph’s voice wavers as Adam’s hand works in circles across his stomach. This is the dream. “Well…I think about you overhearing it and… asking if I’m hungry. I think about you rubbing it, and poking it when it growls… I… I think about you sitting on it and… mhh…”
His stomach gently whines, and his legs become a little tighter.
"Aww, hungry boy," Adam purrs. "Getting so worked up already, and we haven't even started the night yet." He pats Joseph's belly and moves his hand away with a smile as he puts the car into drive. "Wait til I get you home, I'll tease that hungry belly all you want."
Joseph feels a shiver run up his back at the thought. Pull yourself together, he thinks to himself. You don't want to waste it all in his car; you'll get even more at his house.
"Thank you..." Joseph says, feels much more relaxed than earlier. "Maybe I'll work up a few growls on the way there. Might try that air swallowing thing again..."
"Air swallowing thing--hang on, have you figured out how to make your stomach growl?" Adam says, a laugh of surprise and delight in his chest. "Damn you're a fuckin dream come true."
Joseph feels a chuckle rise out of him. "That huge one you felt in the diner? That was… yeah, heh. Hold on–"
He leans back, closing his eyes in preparation, and starts gulping continuously. After about six swallows, he clenches his stomach in and manages to put out one long, ear splitting grumble that lasts for a few seconds. Even when he relaxes his stomach continues to gurgle.
"God…” he sighs dreamily. "I'd teach you how to do it, but...if you did it now I think you'd just end up burping, heh."
"Jesus--you sound so hungry it's making me lose my mind, I can't wait to get home and make you even hungrier…” He leans his head back, still looking at the road, but finding he needs to shift in his seat a bit due to the sounds of Joseph's stomach. "What do you want me to feed you, hungry boy?"
"Hm..." Joseph licks his lips, a few ideas coming to mind. "You know, I don't know if this sounds weird, but… when I saw what you ordered sitting right in front of you, I couldn't help but think about what it'd feel like sitting in your stomach– how nice it would feel. Then you mentioned cooking for me and–"
The thought makes his stomach rumble deeply.
"...would you be able to cook the same meal for me? At least, whatever you have the ingredients for."
Adam smiled. "You got it. I bet your belly will be growling so much from the smell of the burgers… Poor thing will be ravenous by the time everything is ready."
A moment later they pulled into Adam's driveway and they got out of the car. Adam unlocked his door and opened it, giving a dramatic gesture for Joseph to go inside. "After you, dearest."
The gesture makes Joseph roll his eyes playfully, but he can't deny that Adam's new pet name sends shockwaves through his heart. "You're too kind, honey," he teases back, stepping inside.
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thedeafprophet · 11 months ago
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The Boisterous Author plans to take their final leave of the palace. Things, of course, can never go that easy.
(Do read the tags on this one before reading)
Also On Ao3
Word count: 2.8K
Relationship: The Captivating Princess/Original FL Character
Rating: Mature
Tags: Consent issues, Forcefully Shoving Fingers Into Someones Mouth, The Princess Being The Princess, Minor References To The Gift, No Smut (feel the need to point that out with the rating lol)
Jamie had turned the office half upside down as they scrambled around the room, looking for the few items they couldn't bear to leave behind. The whole palace could damn itself to an even deeper hole in the ground, but Jamie would not be leaving without their favourite pen. 
They had reached their limit, one thing after another, and had come to a final decision to take their leave of the palace. No title or renown was worth…whatever the hell all that was. Best not to think too hard on the details. They learned more than they ever wished to know about the royal family. They'd seen things they'd never wished to see.
On the few nights Jamie slept in their room in the palace, so gratefully lent to them, they were up half the night, knowing about what lurks below. The greater threat, however, came from their worry about the goals of one particular member, and how much Jamie had done to make an enemy. They shiver at the thought of the countless horrors they have witnessed all at the results of her schemes. 
No, the more they stayed at the palace, the greater their risk was. They needed to get away. As far away as possible, actually. Perhaps more trips away from the city proper were in order. They had become particularly fond of trains.
By the time they find their pen, their mind has already started drafting a new novel idea of an outlawed monster hunter on the run, papers and books all mixed around. Somehow, they'd left it by the back of the bookshelf, cap left undone. Why on earth they put it there, they don't know, but they grab their beloved writing tool at last. Its well worn nib and incidental bite marks they’ve left behind a familiar and comforting sight. Jamie happily stuffed it back into their jacket pocket where it belonged. Now, at last, they could take their leave. 
They tried to sort the room back into a somewhat organized manner, finding more things they sought to bring back to their real office. A few pages of once discarded notes, a book of their favourite poems, and a manner of ink all were put into their case. There was no way they could take their secondary typewriter without making the length of their departure obvious, so they begrudgingly set it aside. 
They took one final scan around the room before they made their departure. They can’t say that they’d overly miss the location, but they had spent many nights working away at their writing here. That was, in a way, at least some form of connection. They give the room a final salute before they head to the door. 
Of course it wouldn't be that easy. Why would they have ever assumed it would be. 
A set of startlingly blue eyes meet theirs as soon as they open the door, and Jamie half jumps back in shock. Had she been waiting for them, listening in on their actions? No, surely it was just a coincidental matter of timing. They had not, however, heard any sort of knocking.
“Oh do tell me you aren’t going to just stand there staring. Though I of course can understand the urge.”  The Captivating Princess stood in the doorway to Jamie’s office, raising an eye at their apparent staring. Jamie’s heart immediately starts beating faster, anxiety pulsing in their chest.
Deciding they were taking too long to respond, she brushes past them to enter the room fully. Her eyes scan around, taking a moment to look over the contents on their desk. 
“Is everywhere you go subject to this kind of mess? I had thought the repellent state of your lodgings had been an outlier in the matter, but clearly I was mistaken.” 
Jamie pushes themself out of their shock, closing the door behind them and doing their best to force their mind to clear. It was dangerous, entering the dance of conversation without any time to prepare. 
“Ah, my apologies, your highness, I had not been expecting your presence.” Their hands fidget slightly as they speak, nervous energy running through them. “Why exactly are you here, if I might ask?” 
The Princess looks at them as if they just said something particularly stupid. “You do remember you're in the palace, don’t you my dear? I can go wherever I please.”
“Of course, of course. But this is my office, where I work. Not a prime locale for socializing, and I do prefer my privacy in manners of creation.”
The Princess just laughs at them. “Oh how adorable. This space is only yours because it is permitted. Every room, every object, every worker here belongs to the palace.” She smiles. “By all accounts, you do too.”
Jamie bristles at the comment, truly tiring of all these entities in power who seem to think there was any right to lay claim on them.  
“Well then, is there any reason you've come to this particular office of the palace, or may I get on with my afternoon plans?” They mentally remind themself over and over that they need to be polite, of the amount of danger they could be in if they toe out of line. It is a task they are always so dreadful at keeping to. 
“I’m sure whatever dull ongoings you had planned can wait. I am having a direly dull day and am in desperate need of some sort of distraction.” She edges closer towards them. Jamie instinctually takes a step back. “Is that not what you're here for, to entertain?”
Irritation grows inside Jamie alongside their fear. They are an artist, the best of the best, and here this woman was, acting as if they were nothing but a toy to be tossed around. Before, Jamie would have respected her as someone worthy, due to her position and title. Now? Now they know better. What good is the opinion of a monster?
“My job,” Jamie emphasises their point with a gesture at themself,” is to compose for events and special occasions. If there is a particular function you have need of my talents for, do feel free to make an appointment. However, if you're still in need of a playmate at your age, I cannot assist you in that matter.” Really, half the time Jamie couldn't believe she was nearly 13 years older than them.
That clearly wasn't the right thing to say. In an instant The Princess' eyes narrow in anger, and Jamie does their best to avoid her direct gaze. They know how people get around her, they know how weak their mind can become. 
Her voice has a dangerous edge when she speaks. “You should rethink your words. I came here for a solution to my boredom, do not make yourself useless to me.”
Jamie doesn't look at her as they speak, hands moving to point at the objects in the room. “Oh I see! And shall I use the lamp to set the stage lighting? The window curtains to create the scene? But of course, the desk could be a stage! It is a pathetic facsimile of a set piece, but naturally it would serve for such a repugnant audience, who has such little care for the actual depths of artistry.”
They shouldn't say that. Why did they say that? Yes, Jamie is well aware of their habits with snappy remarks, but they normally were able to hold back around her. Instead they found the words stumbling out, fear ignored in the long built up rage. Regret cuts deep through them the moment after their words spill out. 
Jamie knows as their eyes meet hers that this was a fatal mistake. Certainly, it was a mistake to stand against her from the start. Why would they ever stand against someone so graceful and elegant; how could they speak such falsehoods against such beauty. 
Jamie's thoughts are slippery and poisonous as they grapple with them, trying to stand their ground.
The Princess has an outraged sneer from their words, her voice vicious and dangerous as she speaks. 
“Sit down.”
Jamie grits their teeth. “No, I-”
“I said. Sit.” They're moving before they can fully process the command, falling back into one of their own office chairs. The spot seems far less comfortable than it was on the nights they had accidentally fallen asleep here.
The Princess follows their movement, looming over where they sit with a frightening expression. Jamie swallows an ever growing lump in their throat as their pulse rushes in their ears. Their hands grip the edge of the chair to try and keep from shaking.
The Princess is seething as she grips their chin, Jamie almost feeling the scratch of sharp nails through her gloved hand.
“How dare you speak to me that way. You are nothing but an ignorant little pest who should cower beneath my feet, thanking me for even gracing you with my presence.” If Jamie wasn't so caught up in their fear and rage, they would notice the glint of intent behind the anger in her eyes. “You need to hold your tongue.”
Jamie lets out a small humorless laugh. It wasn't the first time they've heard such a sentiment, and it wouldn't be the last. “By the very nature of the job, my profession dictates my use of words, your highness, or have you already forgotten that? Maybe if you-”
What remains of that sentence will never be spoken, as Jamie's eyes widen at their words suddenly being cut off. 
 The Princess had moved her other hand to jab her fingers into their open mouth, pressing down forcefully on their tongue to keep them from finishing. Jamie's hands instinctively reach to scramble at her arm to pull away the intrusion, but all that does is make her push harder. Saliva pools at the edges of Jamie's mouth as they choke around the insistent pressure.  
The Princess sighs at their reaction, looking the image of transcendent boredom, despite her actions and the glittering intent in her eyes saying otherwise. Her rage, it seemed, had died down, replaced with burgeoning entertainment as Jamie swallows heavily around the intruding fingers. 
“Of course, you have such pretty words, and yet I'm met with nothing but slander.” Her lips form a mockery of a pout. “What a waste. No, I know you can do better than that for me.”
Jamie mumbles what would be intended as an argument or a defense, but nothing can come out with their mouth otherwise occupied. Their disjointed noises seem to only further serve The Princess’ amusement.
“Oh, has the little songbird lost their words?” The statement is met with a pinch against their tongue. Jamie whimpers at the pain. “What a shame.”
Gloved fingers move to stroke delicately over their teeth, tracing over each as if examining them, hand mapping every inch of their mouth. The soft fabric brushes against Jamies tongue as they move, not altogether an unpleasant feeling. The urge to bite is strong, but even they are not foolish enough to attempt such a move. Jamie is in enough trouble already, fully at her mercy.
They know how strong those hands could be.
Jamie's thankful they don't have too much of a gag reflex as the back molars are touched, hand stretching further into their mouth. Jamie can only fathom at the image they must make, as tears threaten to edge at their eyes from the pressure, face quickly becoming very flushed. 
It's easier, they decide, to just sit and let her take whatever strange entertainment this seems to be for her. 
Her other hand comes up to stroke their hair, and Jamie shudders at the memory of the first time she did so, freed only by the mercy her sister seemed to possess. Jamie didn't even have the option to talk their way out now, their only line of defense taken. 
Despite the tension, the fear, and the adrenaline, Jamie can't help but relax at the soothing movement, their head leaning into her hand. The actual format of the situation couldn't change the fact that they craved attention, that it felt good, to have such focus on them and them alone. And what focus it was! Truly, they did not deserve her attention. 
The hand in their hair tightens with a sudden sharp tug as Jamie is made to look up at her, half choked with the angle. They can't tell if their struggled breath is from the position or their racing heart.
The Princess coos at them, her voice a patronizing tone as her hand twists russet locks further, tears pricking at the edges of Jamie's eyes. Still, they meet her gaze, and follow the direction she pulls them. 
“How delightful. I knew you could be good, if you only bothered to try.” Her grip relaxes again, and Jamie sinks in relief. “Little songbirds shouldn't say such nasty things - you should be so grateful you have me to help.” 
Of course she's right, how could they have spoken so harshly. How kind of her, of such beauty and grace, to take them in hand. How generous to show them the wrong of their ways. 
They don't know how long they stay like that, their hands still loosely griped on The Princess’ wrist as she pokes and prods, seemingly fascinated by the responses she can receive. They're not sure the passage of time even matters anymore.
At last, The Princess seems to feel that she has made her point, or at least has finally gotten bored. Jamie barely breathes out a sigh of relief as her fingers leave their mouth, not daring to make a sound and have her change her mind about releasing them. 
Jamie looks up at her through half lidded eyes, mouth still open where a trail of saliva connects to her fingers. Their jaw aches. 
She makes a half disgusted face at her glove, moving to wipe her hand off on Jamies suit jacket, before cupping their chin once more. The Princess’ eyes sweep over them with a pointed interest, a sharp jolt of fear washing through Jamie despite the flush of their face. 
Her smile is still so radiant. 
“Have you learned your lesson now little bird?” Her voice is delicate, like a chime, and all of Jamie's senses scream predator. There's nothing they can do but gently nod their head. 
“Is that so? See, I don't think you have. I think that once I leave, you'll go right back to your insufferable little habits, and we'll be back to square one, now won't we?” Her hand lands back to twist in their hair. 
It's an audacious concept, really. Jamie hasn't been changed by anything yet, of course they haven't now, no matter how highly The Princess holds herself.
Jamie is expecting her to tug again, but to their surprise, her hand moves to push their hair out of their face, back behind their ear. She follows down to cup their cheek, thumb stroking slightly. “Unfortunately for you, I have more important things to do today then spend it all on you.” Her hands begin to draw away. “We will deal with this behaviour another time.”
Jamie is barely processing the implication of that before she's fully stepping back, and Jamie has to startle to hold themself back up on the chair. They barely manage to look up as The Princess finally stalks out of the room, as if she hadn't just shoved her hand halfway to Jamies throat, as if she'd just come in for some casual conversation. 
The second she's out of the room, whatever spell that had fallen over Jamie immediately drops. Exhaustion sinks into their bones, their jaw and tongue ache, and most of all their mind runs over what the fuck just happened. 
They spend a few minutes leaning back in their chair, trying to keep their breathing calm, trying not to think too hard on what level of danger they've gotten themself in. Their clothes have become exceedingly uncomfortable, and they were in desperate need of a drink. They shift in their seat and grimace, moving to wipe their mouth. A bath was in order too. 
Soon, they'll manage to push themself up from where they're sitting, and scramble together what remains of their exit plan. They'll take their final leave of the palace, with intent to never return to their writing work here, as much as that could be managed. They'll do their best not to think about the encounter, though it will continue to replay in their mind for many days.  
Most of all they'll try to ignore the imprinted image of red eyes that will surely come to haunt their nightmares, both dreading and wondering what ‘later’ would entail. 
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keanureevesisbae · 2 years ago
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endeavors #13 - torture
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Summary: August takes the sex toys outside of the safety of their apartment.
August Walker x Grace Stanford (asian ofc)
Wordcount: 1.1k
Warning: Nipple play, vibrating egg, orgasms in public, sex in their apartment. Male and female orgasms
Masterlist // endeavors masterlist
After this morning fuck to die for, August and I are under the shower, rinsing off the sweat and other bodily fluids. ‘August,’ I ask him, ‘what would you like to do?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, it’s always about me. What do you want? There must be something?’
He shrugs, pushing some of the hairs from my face. ‘This is perfect for me.’
‘But you have to have a fantasy. Something you desperately want to do.’
‘I’m not sure you are there yet.’
‘I’m there,’ I tell him. ‘Come on, look at all the things we’ve been doing these last few months.’
He cocks an eyebrow. ‘True. Okay, maybe I have something.’
‘What is that?’
‘I’m not telling you. Not yet at least.’ He grabs some soap, puts in on the loofah and lathers my body. ‘I’ve got plans for tonight though.’
‘Oh, what is it?’
‘You and I, a nice meal and your favorite toys stuffed in your cunt.’ He snickers and says: ‘You know I like to see you suffer.’
﹌﹌
Oh, I am suffering. Suffering big time even. One thing is fore sure, I will never show my face here again. I know I have an magnificent and enviable poker face, but the whole idea of ever going back to the place where August just dragged my first orgasm out of me…
I can’t handle that. 
We’re seated next to each other, looking out of the window over the city. His hand rests on my leg, as he continues to pretend like nothing is wrong. My leg nervously moves up and down and as he takes a sip of his drink the vibrations start again. I clench my thighs together and thankfully the music is pretty loud, meaning it drowns out my soft whimpers and the vibrations of the toy. 
This of course is such a dirty little secret.
‘How are you doing?’ August asks, like he isn’t torturing me. 
‘Fantastic,’ I whimper, taking a bite of my side salad. ‘Could you maybe let me eat?’
He takes a pity on me, but I could’ve known that it was a trap. Giving me a minute of peace and quiet, is followed by more intense vibrations. 
August had strict instruction for me and the clothes I had to wear, meaning I am wearing a very flimsy dress. While the material around my breasts is thick enough to hide my hardening nipples—that scrape against the fabric—it does not hide the heaving of my chest. I know August is having a field day.
And then it happens. 
I cum again. My legs tremble and my knuckles turn white as I hold onto the fork a little too tightly. Finally he does stop and whispers in my ear: ‘While I like to fuck you in the privacy of our apartment, there is a certain beauty to see you restricting yourself here. I kinda wish I could hear you screaming my name right now.’
Two can play this game. I turn to the side a little, placing my hand on his upper leg, my fingers close to his slight bulge. ‘I could be screaming your name from the passenger’s seat of your car, but you prefer to sit here in this crowded restaurant.’
He smiles. ‘Be careful with what you’re doing. No matter how gorgeous and irresistible you look, I will always one up you.’ He smirks, causing him to be deviously handsome and irresistible of his own. 
I take a shaky breath, realizing I’ve overplayed my cards. Because it is true. He will always one up me. But I still steal a kiss from him, knowing I’m in deep trouble already.
During the rest of dinner he teased me, but didn’t push me so far for another orgasm.
Somehow—don’t ask me how—I made it to the car without sinking down to the dirty floor and August chuckles, telling me: ‘Let’s see how many orgasms we can drag out of you on our way back.’
The actual motherfucker turned on the vibrations and placed his fucking phone in the standard, not touching it at all. At first I try to make it seem like I can handle this, but my own self fulfilling prophecy of falling apart is coming true. 
I am a sobbing, screaming and withering mess on the passenger’s seat and my mind is foggy by the orgasms and I have no idea how many times I came. After August parked the car, he turns off the vibrations and I lean back in the seat. ‘You know we’re no where from done,’ August chuckles.
‘I know,’ I whisper. I turn my face to the side and smile. ‘I wouldn’t dare.’
﹌﹌
Within seconds of entering the apartment, we have gotten rid of our clothing. Somehow we made it to the bathroom and as August is standing behind me, his hard cock sliding in after pulling the toy from my cunt and spreading my legs apart. I hold onto the bathroom counter top, his fingertips digging into my sides. ‘You’re fucking drenched,’ he mutters, once he totally bottoms out. 
August is desperate to chase his own high, his hand in my hair, gently giving it a pull so my back is against his chest. 
‘Fuck, August,’ I whimper, especially when his other hand slides down my stomach, rubbing my sensitive clit. The way his cock is angled is perfect and so different than what the toy did. The constant pull of my hair, how he’s stretching me out and the way I am with my head on cloud nine, all works together.
Fluids squirt passed his cock, down my legs and land on the tiles. 
‘Fucking hell,’ he mutters, roughly pounding in me, which only makes me moan louder than I did before. The pull on my hair is a little tighter now, his fingers abusing my clit is borderline painful, but in such an addicting way, I don’t want him to stop. 
Watching myself in the mirror, tears ruining my make-up, sloppy kisses on my temple. 
From his erratic thrusts, I can tell he’s close and I watch and listen to him riding out his high, his cock buried deep in between my wet and semen coated walls. His hand rests on my stomach, while I try to catch my breath.
‘You okay?’ August asks.
‘I am,’ I whisper.
His cock softens and once he exits me, cum streams down my legs. I hold onto the counter, not trusting my legs anymore. From behind me, I can hear August turning on the shower and once the water is a nice temperature, he says: ‘Come on, Grace.’
However I can’t move, not without him holding me. My legs feel like jello, but my lips are unable to form words. 
August chuckles darkly, hoisting me up in his strong arms and whispers: ‘You’re lucky I like to hold you, Grace,’ followed by a gentle kiss on my lips.
﹌﹌
endeavors taglist: @diegos-butt // @thelastsock // @liecastillo // @mis-lil-red // @sofiebstar // @abschaffer2 // @crazybutconfidentaf // @summersong69 // @gearhead66 // @xobriellaxo24 // @kebabgirl67 // @eldarwen333 // @kingliam2019 // @cherry-gemz // @sillyrabbit81 // @enchantedbytomandhenry // @lyrarodriguez // @islacharlotte // @sunshine96love // @oddsnendsfanfics // @xuxszx // @omgkatinka // @pterodactylterrace / @peaches1958 // @pandaxnienke // @teamfan7asy // @raccoon-eyed-rebel // @geralts-yenn
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brokebackmonastery · 9 months ago
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self insert intro finally WOOHOO!!
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did not have any great art of him. oh well. in any case this is luna-myr eisner (transmasc + any pronouns! you'll usually see me using he/they but anything is alright)! and while he is to a degree a self insert he's also very much like. an OC. because i like to write and that's just how i do self shipping i suppose. anyways further details below :3
(proship/comship DNI)
self insert but also what you would call a bylethsona i suppose. definitely not exactly like canon byleth as you will see. comes paired with custom route i have deemed seafoam star
was sort of half-conscious growing up until sothis awoke. capable of feeling emotion, but cannot truly express them and experiences everything through somewhat of a haze
only people he really had growing up were jeralt (who is his dad ofc) and whatever animals hung out wherever they were staying. was generally not around people his age and even when they were nobody wanted to engage with him because of his "odd" behavior. even adults were put off by him
autistic. who would i be if i did not make my SI autistic
quite merciful for a mercenary. capable of being brutal, but it is reserved for the truly deplorable; for example, often lets thieves trying to steal from well-off folk to keep themselves or their loved ones alive go in secret. does not see these acts of survival as worthy of punishment. wishes he could help them more. however, people are generally not aware of this and are more likely to have heard about the aforementioned brutality.
though they didn't have much choice in taking the monastery job, he was generally okay with it, if not confused. It was their first time in a setting surrounded by so many people his age consistently. understood why seteth did not trust him.
time powers work more in-depth than with canon byleth. can of course use divine pulse, but this also comes with an unusually acute perception of time and the occasional ability to have visions of the past and possible futures. since his body is still technically mortal, these visions often make him feel faint if not entirely pass out. These visions can be shared via touch.
genuinely does not understand what the hell is going on, particularly early game. people seem to think he does or that he's hiding something — he is not. they are just learning to express the confusion they feel.
drawn to claude right away. erm...?
more visibly nabatean than canon byleth after fusing with sothis. pointed ears and reptilian pupils come alongside the green hair. possibly has a few scales here and there on his body as well. claws (and i'm talking CLAWS not just long nails) and fangs. dragon form that he is entirely unaware of until much later. the sort of "transformation" into being more visibly nabatean was like. Painful and lasted roughly a week
teaches all three classes and has a significant connection with them all, but is the homeroom teacher of/is the closest with the golden deer (think like... the teachers rotate who they teach basically. but each have a homeroom they are tied to/spend more time with)
did not even have a chance to choose a side between edelgard and rhea. would not have killed edelgard at rhea's request regardless and approaches her about it before the imperial attack on the monastery to ask if there is any other way. rhea was upset by the idea that he did not side with her unconditionally. they did not want to kill either of them
loves rhea, but does not trust her. Very confused by her actions and only wants the truth from her. Sees her as somewhat of a motherly figure, ironically.
likes drawing, creating jewelry (usually out of bone), sewing, and carving (usually sets of dice). like sitri, loves flowers and will be delighted to see unusual ones. his favorites are any kind of lily. has an affinity for stuffed animals as well
big fan of moths especially luna moths if that was not apparent. goes to see them out in the wild yearly in the short span of time that they are active
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also bonus dragon form where he's a weird horsemothlizard as well as a better demonstrarion of the fact that they have straight up Claws. that's all i've got for now. cheers
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writeforfandoms · 2 years ago
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Your Broken Wing
Find my masterlist
A drabble in the Songbird ‘verse - Fennec x gn!reader - Fennec tries to help her mouse feel better with an unconventional purchase. Silly fluff.
Boy it has been a hot minute since I’ve been here, huh? I actually wrote this ages ago, forgot about it, and was reminded of it yesterday. So. Have some shameless fluff, y’all. 
Warnings: Mention of sickness, undiluted fluff and comfort. 
Word count: 723
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Fennec woke early, sunlight coming in the high-set windows of her room. Her data pad chimed gently, and she sat up to check it. 
A text confirmation that her order was ready to pick up. Excellent. Her lips twitched in a smile. She'd make the trip to town today. 
She rose and went through her morning routine quietly. And then she snuck to your room to check on you. Still asleep. Still sick. She frowned, just a little. This was your third day down with this illness. 
Just as quietly, she slipped away again. 
It didn't take long to tell Boba what she was doing. He didn't laugh at her… out loud. His eyes did that for him. She ignored that, turning and striding away from him. 
Nobody got in her way as she walked, and nobody tried to interrupt her. One benefit of being here, where everyone knew her reputation and station. Not that there were that many people around to begin with. 
She walked into the underground hanger, glancing briefly at Slave 1. Still fine. As expected. She swung a leg over a speeder bike, adjusting her helmet in place, and was off.
Even as early as it was, it was still hot under the twin suns. Fennec ignored the heat out of practice, making her way to Mos Eisley. She had to slow down a bit as she wound through the streets to the vendor she wanted. But it was still a fairly quick trip. 
She walked in, nodding once to the owner. The owner set her purchase on the small counter dividing them, and Fennec looked it over. She nodded her satisfaction. Dropped the credits (plus a little extra for being so quick with her order), and picked up her purchase. 
It wasn't heavy, but it was an odd size. She knew she got a few odd looks as she carried it back to her speeder bike, but she didn't care.
Of course, then she had to figure out how to get it back to the Palace. She couldn't hold it and drive. 
Fortunately, she had come equipped. She used a tie-down to secure the item to the back of her speeder bike, testing to make sure it wouldn't shift or fall during the trip back. 
Satisfied with her morning, Fennec swung her leg back over and revved the engine. 
She paid no attention to the looks she received on the way back out of town. 
She had something to deliver. 
– 
You opened your eyes slowly, groaning softly at the persistent aching in your head. You hated being sick, and internally cursed whoever brought this damned plague to the Palace with them. Half the servers had caught it, yourself included. 
Moving carefully, you got out of bed and took a few sips of water. The room was dim, so that helped your head, at least. 
Something caught your attention out of the corner of your eye. Something that didn't belong. Blinking, you turned to look. 
A giant stuffed bantha toy sat on the other side of your bed. You had no idea how you had missed it - it was huge. Easily almost as long as you were. 
But who…? How?
Fennec.
You smiled, completely unable to help yourself, and reached over to touch it. It was soft, the fur silky and smooth. Not much like a real bantha but that was okay. This was so much better. 
Shaking your head, completely unable to smother your silly grin now, you grabbed your datapad and sent a message to Fennec. 
Thank you for the present. Wish I could thank you in person.
The reply came almost immediately, meaning she was around and probably bored. Soon, little sand mouse. You just rest and focus on getting better. There was a brief pause, and then another message. It's boring up here without my favorite server.
You went warm, ducking your head and grinning like a fool. Oh, Fennec. Hopefully I can be back up there tomorrow, you sent back. You laid back in bed, already worn out again. 
Sleep. I'll come check on you again tonight. 
You yawned and set your datapad aside. Rolling over onto your side, you grabbed the stuffed bantha, cuddling it since you couldn't have Fennec. 
You slept, and dreamed of riding a bantha with Fennec under the stars.
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sugwrpwzz · 6 months ago
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NUMB (PART ONE)
“One track mind like a gold fish…”
-marina
Blitzø slammed on the brakes and looked around.
“This the right place, mox?”
Moxxie nodded. Mille leaned over.
“It’ll be fine.”
She squeezed his hand.
“Get a room you two..”
Blitzø grumbled.
“Eww…”
Blitzø jumped.
“Loonie! When did you…”
She growled at him.
“Get here….Ok-kay!”
Blitzø looked at Moxxie.
“The fuck are the tests even for..?”
“No idea, sir.”
They all remembered taking them, but they discontinued the tests shortly after they took them, and before anyone got results.
“Well, I guess we’ll fucking find out…”
・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・
Two weeks earlier:
Blitzø slammed a solid amount of weapons on the table.
“Listen up! We have about 16 different jobs..”
Moxxie sighed.
“But sir-“
“First one is someone killing their grandmother….why?”
“Sir-“
“Second one is….this is just erotica printed out.”
��SIR-“
“WHAT THE FUCK IS IT”
Millie stared at them.
“WHY ARE WE SCREAMING”
Moxxie rolled his eyes.
“Sir, as you know, they brought back the classification tests..”
Blitzø shrugged.
“So?”
“We have to retake them in two weeks…”
Blitzø fired at the wall next to him, the noise banging.
“Fuck.”
・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・
Mille tapped the pen against the table.
She had no idea why “how do you feel about bright lights” had anything to do with whatever they were testing them on.
Eh, it can’t be that bad.
・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・
Moxxie flew through the question pretty easily.
Even the…weird ones.
“What was your childhood like”
“Do you crave toxic relationships”
“Opinions on guns.”
Bad, chazwick thunderman, and loves them more than his job (don’t tell Blitzø)
・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・
Blitzø was bored already.
He answered most of them.
Sure, with two words and half of it misspelled, but he didn’t give two fucks.
He looked at the woman running the test.
“Hey, uh..bitch? I’m done.”
・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・
Octavia jammed her earbuds in.
Could they not fight for 0.5 seconds?
“Fucking die!”
“You first”
・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・
She scribbled her answers down, nodding her head to the playlist she was listening to.
The lady had let her keep them in.
She swung her legs around and smiled.
・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・
Stolas hummed as he read over the packet.
Words!
He wrote down his answers slowly, re-reading the questions
・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・
Millie leaned into Moxxie’s hug.
“Hey pumpkin!”
Moxxie smiled.
“Hey mills.”
Loona scrolled on her phone.
Blitzø looked around.
Loona looked up.
“Oh - hey Octavia.”
She stood up.
Blitzø look over.
Lo and behold - Stolas, Stella and Octavia.
Octavia smiled at her honorary older sister.
“Hey loona!”
Blitzø heard Stella stomp off.
“Hey Blitzy~”
Fuck.
“Hey stolas.”
“I-“
“Blitzø Buckso?”
・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・
Blitzø stared at the wall behind…the fuck was her name? Abby?
“Hello!”
He looked at her.
“Whore, can we get this shit over with?”
The woman laughed.
“This is rather important, but I can speed things up, if you wish.”
Huh.
He looked at her.
“So…”
She opened a drawer full of….kids toys?
“Take anything you’d like.”
Blitzø stared at her with utter confusion.
“Can you just give me the goddamn results?”
She smiled.
“Alright. As long as you distract yourself with one of these.”
She motioned to the toys.
He could have chosen the crayons and paper, and just wrote down random shit.
But he was oddly drawn to a medium sized hellhorse stuffed animal.
Eh.
I just like horses,
He thought.
“Okay, so. We have your evaluation.”
Blitzø stared at her.
“Based on your results - due to many factors, such as an unstable and traumatic childhood, PTSD, discrimination, and certain mannerisms-“
“English, please?”
“You are a little”
Blitzø’s eyes darted around the room.
“A what now-“
“You are 65% a little, headspace 3 - 7, 35% guardian, and 5% neutral.”
“THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN-“
・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・
“Moxxie and Mildred Knolastname?”
Moxxie and Millie shot up and walked over.
“I’m guessing you separate us..?”
Moxxie said.
The man smiled.
“Because you both are legally married, you have a right to view results, however only with the consent.”
Millie squeezed Moxxie’s hand.
“WE’D LOV-“
She blushed.
“…we’d love to!”
・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・
They sat on the couch, smiling.
The fish-demon in front of them grinned.
“Okie doke…”
He motioned to a table full of toys, books and fidgets.
“Help yourself!”
Moxxie grabbed a stress ball and Millie grabbed a possum stuffed animal.
“Look Mox, it’s you!”
He laughed.
The man flipped through a packet.
“Alright…”
“Moxxie, you are….70% Little, headspace 0 - 3, and 30% caregiver.”
“What does-“
“And Millie, you are 60% a little, headspace 5 - 7, and 40% guardian.”
“I’m confu-“
・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・
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