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vennilavee · 3 years ago

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A Lover's Brew

thank you so much to @fitztantrum for these GORGEOUS COVERS...I AM IN LOVE.

Pairing: vampire gojo satoru x witch reader, vampire mei mei x witch reader, gojo satoru x reader x mei mei

Summary: you're a witch, and the cute owner of the astral apothecary. your apothecary is known to be one of a kind, with all and any of the magical ingredients that anyone could possibly need. two of your loyal vampire customers, gojo and mei mei, are on a mission- to see who can sleep with you first. unbeknownst to you. or is it? (this is an 18+ fic)

Word Count: 8264

Warnings: alcohol, cursing, gojo and mei mei place a bet on who's going to sleep with oc first lol, oc is kind of an unreliable narrator and it's on purpose, biting, blood sucking, the use of the word 'whore' and 'slutty', one mention of curly hair

Smut Warnings: choking, car sex, a sex dream, scissoring, praise, everyone wants to fuck lol

A/N: yes ive been talking abt this fic for months... congrats to me for getting this out on gojo's bday<3 please rb/comment if you enjoyed this! this fic is 18+

The Astral Apothecary was positively brimming with people today. You’re already sweating through your thin striped purple shirt, sure that sweat stains are visible under your arms. Oh well. It’s only a few days before Halloween, and your apothecary is the only one around for miles.

And your apothecary only carries the finest quality ingredients, if you say so yourself. Though, Shoko would definitely disagree and argue that her shop, the Honey Home, is superior.

It’s all in good fun, that usually ends up with you casting a pesky little spell to keep her company that expires after a few hours. Nothing too serious- only something like having a cute little rain cloud follow her around, drizzling Shoko’s clothes in a light rain.

But she doesn’t do the same with you, instead she scolds you and tells you to grow up. To which you very dramatically roll your eyes in response and tell her that if she truly wanted to be mature, she wouldn’t argue that her shop was better than yours.

And she would zap you lightly with a tiny bolt of electricity through her fingertips. Again, all in good fun.

You’ve always had this dream of sharing your witchy bits and bobs with the world. You’ve always wanted your apothecary to be a place where witches and wizards and warlocks could come together. Sometimes werewolves and vampires come by, too.

Such as one very annoying Gojo Satoru, who is currently strutting into your shop as if it’s not the fourth time this week that he’s been here. And it’s only Wednesday.

“We’re closed,” you say dryly from the shelf that you’re restocking, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Oh, is that so?” Gojo drawls as he always does, honey slipping off of his dead tongue, “Doesn’t look closed to me.”

He looks at you from over his sunglasses, his icy blue eyes absolutely blinding. You can barely make eye contact with him on a good day, let alone when he’s clearly currently on a mission to fluster you.

“Unless you’re my delivery of root of solir, then yes we are closed,” you mutter, turning your back to him to dust off the shelves.

“You have plenty of solir over there, sweetheart,” he says. Damn him and his stupidly astute eyesight.

What else would you expect from a vampire? Much less one of the most powerful vampires from possibly the most powerful vampire clan in existence?

“Put your sunglasses on, I don’t want to see your ridiculous eyes. Nobody’s eyes should be that blue,” you mutter.

“Relax, I’m here on business today-”

“Oh, for once. As if that’s ever stopped you before, Gojo-”

“You don’t want my business?” Gojo asks, raising an eyebrow. You roll your eyes and bite your tongue, but remain silent. He smirks.

“How can I help you today,” you ask reluctantly, through gritted teeth.

“Mei Mei placed an order a few weeks ago for wolfsbane, healing crystals, dragon venom and silver leaves. She got a text that it’s ready, so I’m here for it,” Gojo shrugs, leaning over the counter. He dares to allow his sunglasses to slide down his nose, much to your chagrin.

“What, are you her delivery boy now?” you scoff, “It’s ready.”

Gojo doesn’t miss the skip in your heartbeat at the mention of Mei Mei. It confirms what he already knows.

“Oh, good, you know, she would’ve come by. But she got tied up with something at the school,” Gojo says. It’s a lie, but you don’t have to know that. You perk up instantly at that.

“Really? Well… will you tell her to stop by sometime soon? W-we got a new shipment of rose essence, she uses it in her hair sometimes. She told me,” you say somewhat meekly, feeling blood rush into your cheeks. You clear your throat.

“Course I’ll tell her, sweetheart. Don’t you worry your pretty head over it,” he smirks and winks at you.

You shudder, his slick smirk tattooed in your mind long after he leaves the apothecary. This is how he almost always leaves you- with a few choice words, a few fleeting touches. He always leaves you waiting, waiting and wanting.

....

As he always does, Gojo Satoru barges through the doors of the office with no regard to the surrounding silence. The man knows (and loves) to make an entrance.

Mei Mei doesn’t bother levelling him with a scathing glare. He carefully drops the heavy cardboard box to the floor, the gingerly wrapped glass bottles clinking together quietly.

“Got your stuff,” Gojo says cheerily, “Our girl says she got a shipment of rose essence. Said to let you know, asked when you’d come by.”

Mei Mei snorts. “She’d like that wouldn’t she?”

“She sure would,” Gojo nods, “She likes me better than you, though.”

“Oh, I highly doubt that. She can’t stand you, and who can blame her-”

“Trust me, she does. Once she gets a taste, she won’t be able to get enough-”

“Oh, shut up. You think everyone likes you because you’re a whore.”

“No, everyone likes me because I’m dashing and I like to bite,” Gojo says leaning over Mei Mei’s desk, “Even you.”

“Oh, please-”

“Yup, that’s exactly how you sounded that night, sweetheart,” Gojo says smugly. Mei Mei stands up from her plush leather seat, squares her shoulders and flips her powder blue braid to the side to meet his eyes.

She hates how his perfectly moisturized, shiny lower lip juts out the way it does. What a nuisance. Gojo Satoru is nothing if not vain, even by a vampire’s standards.

“That night will never happen again,” Mei Mei hisses, “Not even in your wildest dreams.”

“Right, that’s what you said the first time,” Gojo scoffs, “Wanna bet on it?”

“I’m not betting on anything with you,” she says swiftly.

“Oh? I’ve never known you to back down from a challenge. You getting soft with your old age?” Gojo jeers.

“You’re literally older than me, you fool,” Mei Mei mutters.

“I bet I can get her in bed before you can,” Gojo continues, ignoring her as if she hadn’t spoken.

“You’re disgusting,” Mei Mei rolls her eyes but her interest is piqued. She knows this is something she can win, considering the way you respond to her whenever she shows up at the apothecary.

Gojo gives her another sickly sweet smirk, one that solidifies Mei Mei’s decision. In the name of vampiric feminism, she hopes she is forgiven.

“I’m in, and I’m gonna win.”

....

A thin sheen of sweat lines your brow as you flick your fingers to shift the direction of the steel ladle in your brass cauldron. It sits in the middle of the shop, bubbling a lovely lilac shade. It’s bewitched to smell enticing to whoever enters the shop.

Shoko would call it “sketchy business practice”. You call it advertising.

Your nose twitches when the little bell attached to the top of the front door rings softly. You can smell the scent of her woodsy perfume already wafting into the shop and when you raise your head, you’re met with none other than Mei Mei.

Your heart does a funny thing. Mei Mei hears it, and you know it.

Her perfectly manicured glossy, black nails tap against the countertop. If it was anyone else, you’d find it annoying. But not with her.

“Long time no see,” Mei Mei drawls, her voice a melodic chime that floats along with the soft song playing in the background.

“It’s been a week or so,” you say with a shrug, “Not that long.”

Nine days exactly, but who’s counting?

“It’s felt like longer since I’ve seen you,” she nearly purrs, painted lips twisted into a smile. The barest hint of her fangs are visible-

Your throat goes a little dry.

“Gojo tells me you’ve got something for me.”

“Well, he talks a lotta shit doesn’t he?”

That pulls a dry laugh from Mei Mei, which makes you flutter internally. “That he does,” she murmurs.

“It’s rose essence. You came here a few weeks ago, you use it for your hair. Keeps it nice and shiny. And smelling nice.”

“And does it?” Mei Mei asks, “Keep it nice and shiny? And smelling nice?”

“If it didn’t, you wouldn’t continue to buy it,” you mutter. It pulls a laugh from her. Your lips quirk up as you fail to hide the slamming of your heart in your ribcage. You know that Mei Mei can hear it, if the way her dark eyes gleam is any indication.

Her fangs shine in the dim light of the store when she smiles. It sends a feathery shudder up your spine.

Mei Mei buys a carton of rose essence and a few other necessities, namely a pretty pink potion (that you created) that makes blood bags last longer than its usual expiration of nine days.

Her burgundy painted lips move, but you don’t really hear her when she speaks. You’re too busy staring at her lips, wondering how they might feel on yours. Not a single stroke of color is out of place on the outlines of her mouth- you wonder if she might enjoy the sight of her lipstick on your skin-

“That’ll be uh….three thousand four hundred yen,” you say clearly, pulling your thoughts away from the inevitable spiral that you’re heading down. You’re suddenly eager to go home, frustration building in your belly.

You swallow nervously- you can feel her piercing gaze on you despite not looking at her. Can she read thoughts? Can vampires read thoughts?

“Keep the change,” she says breathily, handing you a wad of cash. Despite her cold, undead fingers brushing against yours, you scoff.

“The change is five extra yen. Thanks for your altruism,” you mutter. Still, she laughs and takes her bags, sauntering out of the store in a slow hurry. The bell rings to indicate that the door has closed and you let out a long breath.

Competition has always been one of Mei Mei’s vulnerabilities, especially when it comes to Gojo Satoru. The undead man is infuriating, with his stupidly white hair that just so happens to fall effortlessly in his eyes. His blindingly blue eyes that he doesn’t allow very many people to see, except for those close to him.

There is no shade of blue that can compare, not when Gojo hovers over Mei Mei like this. His arms bracket her head as he slowly glides in and out of her warm wetness, lips grazing the corner of her painted mouth. He tugs her jaw towards him so she can meet his eyes and she absolutely falters.

There is no shade of blue that can compare to the way Gojo looks at Mei Mei in this moment- the pinprick of intensity that lines his irises as he holds her closer, rubs her clit in that way. Her cheeks are heated, somehow warm with color as he kisses her roughly. Her hands wander over the expanse of his back before squeezing his ass and he groans into her mouth.

“Satoru…” Mei Mei murmurs, “‘M close-”

“I know, sweetheart,” he groans, “Me too-”

And then there’s you. You’re watching them- the hurried rise and fall of Mei Mei’s chest, the way her hips meet Gojo’s thrusts- with your hands unashamedly in your panties from the black loveseat in what you assume is Gojo’s bedroom. You catch a glimpse of his striking eyes as he whispers something that you cannot hear to Mei Mei and turns his head to look at you.

You’re watching something that you probably shouldn’t be. But Gojo only smiles at you in that saccharine way, stilling inside of Mei Mei, and beckons you closer. Nearly tripping over your own feet as you strip and lay next to Mei Mei, hands running over her chest. Mei Mei opens her mouth, about to say something, her voice surely soft and raspy, but-

Your subconscious is rudely plunged back into reality as your alarm goes off. A dream. What a shame. Good morning to you. Your panties feel sticky and you’re uncomfortably aroused with nothing but Gojo Satoru’s thick, veiny cock and the bounce of Mei Mei’s tits in your mind’s eye.

With a groan and the ache in between your legs nearly forgotten, you rub your eyes in frustration as you begin your day.

You can’t decide whether you’re hoping that you can catch a glimpse of Mei Mei and Gojo at the apothecary today or not.

It’s about a week later, and Gojo hasn’t made much movement with his bet with Mei Mei. Objectively, it’s a little skeevy, but he’s never one to back down from a little healthy competition. Besides, they both have an eternal lifetime of damnation to make it up to you if you do get upset.

He knows Mei Mei has been frequenting the Apothecary, even if she avoids telling him. She’s just as competitive as he is, after all.

Utahime had caught wind of their little bet the other day, and smacked them both upside the head. She had stormed into the lounge, hot on their heels and probably ready to bite both of their heads off (fangs and all). It was probably the only time he and Mei Mei had ever agreed on anything-

“Well, you’re more than welcome to join in on the bet.”

“Or join in with us, in general.”

Which had earned another sharp smack upside their heads, respectively. Along with a scathing glare and a long tirade about how irresponsible they both were.

But today is a new day. And he plans on visiting you in the Apothecary once more. Gojo already has a plan of how he’s going to sweep you off your feet. He thinks you’re quite easy to read. He knows what people say of him- that he’s got a few screws loose. But Gojo is nothing if not observant.

He has a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand as he walks towards your shop. He’s also wearing silver rings and a thin necklace- he’s seen how your pupils dilate when he does. He’s no fool. It’s easy to want to impress you when he’s had a sweet spot for you for a long time anyway.

His thoughts drift to you once more, for the millionth time this week. He thinks of the way your curly strands of hair fall into your eyes and how you constantly swipe at the strands with your always manicured nails. Maybe you’ve painted your nails purple today-

Leaning over the counter in the shop, arms held close to your chest. Your dress is low cut and Gojo doesn’t hide his ogling.

He feels a gentle zing slide up his spine as you smirk at him with no guilt in your gaze. “Eyes up here, Satoru,” you say in a sing-song voice.

“Can’t help it,” he shrugs, unashamed.

“Oh, I know. I wouldn’t be able to help it either,” you reply, your gaze slowly dripping over his tall frame. He smirks at you in return. Gojo knows where he stands with you- you both only look at each other. No touching. Not yet, at least.

You hold your hand out to him with a pout and what is he meant to do other than take it in his own? Your palms are rough with the hard work that comes with being a witch in this city.

“Your hands are so big,” you marvel, tilting your head to the side. As if this is practiced. It probably is. Your voice is sugary and spicy, eyes glinting with mischief.

Gojo hums, ignoring the stroking of his ego with your words. “Maybe your hands are just small.”

“Maybe,” you shrug, “Help me with something? What color should I paint my nails?”

Gojo is no fool. He knows what it means when a woman asks what color she should paint her nails.

“Purple. Like a lilac shade. It’ll look pretty on you,” Gojo says, “Though, anything looks pretty on you, sweetheart.”

“Shut up, Gojo. You don’t need to throw me a line, I’m not one of your groupies.”

“That’s not what it looks like from where I’m standing.”

When Gojo swings the heavy, dark cherry door open, he’s immediately met with the scent of sandalwood and jasmine. He spots your glittery black cauldron in the center of the shop, a curiously sunflower yellow potion bubbling away.

He’s been here enough to know that it’s the healing potion you provide for the hospital on a weekly basis. The sunflower yellow potion is the one meant for werewolf cubs. Gojo is certain that Nanami’s probably going to stop by either today or tomorrow to pick up a few vials for Yuuji. He’s heard that Yuuji’s been sick the last few days, considering that he’s a newly bitten werewolf.

“Good evening Satoru,” you say from the backroom. Of course you already know he’s here.

“It sure is a good evening,” Gojo murmurs. You come out from the backroom with some dirt on your nose and your pink witch hat a little crooked. You brush away any remaining dirt on your wide legged purple pants and clear your throat.

Blood rushes to your cheeks at the sight of yellow, red and orange flowers being held steady in Gojo’s hand. You catch the glint of the ring on his right hand and swallow.

“Those are pretty,” you say, turning your back on him to focus on restocking your supply of bat wings, “You got a date later? Why are you here?”

“No I don’t have a date later,” he resists the urge to roll his eyes, “They are pretty, like you. They’re for you.”

“For me?” you nearly fall off of the stool you’re standing on, “Really?”

“Yes,” Gojo says easily, catching a glimpse of your nails. They’re a light lilac shade, just as he had suggested. Nice. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, so…”

You’re enthralled by him and the flowers, hardly able to believe it. You can’t recall a time that anyone’s ever purchased flowers for you, much less the man that you’ve been harboring a not so subtle crush on for who knows how long. Your heart bursts, affection blooming within the crevices of your ventricles for none other than Gojo Satoru.

“Thanks, Satoru. It… it, uh, means a lot. I mean it,” you say sincerely, rummaging around to find a nice vase for the flowers. You twirl your fingers for water to fill up in the vase and place the bouquet into the vase right in front of you at the counter.

“Now I’ll see it everyday,” you say happily.

“I’m happy you like it,” Gojo says, leaning forward over the counter and closer to you, “Your hat is a little crooked. I’ll fix it.”

You inhale sharply as the warm, vanilla scent of his cologne wafts into your nose. His eyes flash in your direction, not that you can tell. His skin is pale, nearly translucent but not quite. Pale enough that you can catch the faint lines of his prominent veins as they run up and down his arms.

Gojo’s neck is exposed, and you also catch the two circular bite marks on the right side of his neck. Either he didn’t care to conceal his...activities, or he forgot to. You have a strong feeling it’s the former. The red, purplish bruising on his pale skin is a striking contrast, and you can’t help but stare a little long at it.

You lick your lips. Gojo notices.

It must be on purpose that his black dress shirt is unbuttoned a few more buttons than usual. Your gaze lingers on the exposed expanse of his chest. And of course, your wet dream from earlier in the week trespasses into your mind. Flashes of his sinewy muscles, his powerful thighs replay in your mind and you drool. Gojo Satoru is standing right in front of you and what you wouldn’t give to see him like that in your reality.

You shift on your feet. Gojo notices. He also notices the tips of your ears and your cheeks are heated, your heart racing and you smell sweet.

His bottom lip is perfectly plump and glossy. You wonder how it might feel, pulled into your own mouth or gentle along the ridges of your chest. Or your neck. Is he compelling you right now? No, he can’t be. You have a spell on you that prevents any supernatural being from compelling you at all.

This is real. Though, that’s nothing new.

“Thank you for the flowers, Satoru,” you say softly, “They’re lovely.”

You’ve seen Mei Mei outside of the apothecary a few times now- she had asked you to get coffee, you had run into her at the grocery store (where she was in the blood and spice aisle), and at a nearby park. In fact, you’ve added an emoji to her name on your cell phone. Which is an honor that only a few people have.

Gojo Satoru is one of the few, of course.

Mei Mei had texted you out of the blue, a few days before the full moon, asking if you’d like to have dinner with her. She had invited you to have dinner with her in her home in the forest. Knowing Mei Mei, she’d be dressed to the nines. Which meant that you would be dressed up to the nines.

Not that you particularly minded.

You head out of your apartment wearing a powder blue satin dress, black heels and a pretty nude lipstick (applied to your lips via your magic. You were never great at a seamless lipstick application). The dress made you feel expensive- which is the same way Mei Mei made you feel whenever you were with her.

To your surprise, Mei Mei is waiting outside for you with a fresh bouquet of flowers while leaning against her sleek, black motorcycle.

“Oh,” you say, “I was going to drive to you.”

“You don’t even know where I live,” Mei Mei deadpans, “Besides, I texted you, remember?”

You don’t remember, but you bite your tongue. You tell her to wait outside as you place the flowers in a vase in the shop. She's patient, with her arms crossed.

She laughs when you nearly trip trying to walk back to her in your heels.

“Well, are you going to get on or what?” she quips, but greets you with a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth before adjusting a helmet on your head.

“Watch the hair,” you mutter, using your magic to flick her on the forehead. Her perfectly painted lips pull apart into a grin.

“Sure thing, princess.”

The castle, you begin to realize, is the same one that Gojo Satoru also lived in. It’s somehow hidden in the expanse of the lush forest, tucked away between the shadows that the moonlight casts on the forest floor. It’s not a particularly huge castle by any means. It’s more cozy than anything.

You don’t know if he’s home, or if anyone else who lives in this castle is home, but you don’t think about it. Because watching Mei Mei put the finishing touches on dinner for you is a vision in itself.

She moves so elegantly, each shift and sway of her arm filled with purpose and power. Mei Mei could snap you in half and drain you of your blood easily. You shiver in excitement. Her glossy, baby blue hair tumbles past her shoulders effortlessly, shining with the lights in the dining room.

You try, and fail, not to look down her low-cut dress when she bends at the waist to place food in your place. You both know that she notices.

“You and Gojo,” Mei Mei shakes her head, “You’re both the same. So obvious about where your eyes go.”

“Gojo? You really want to talk about Gojo right now?” you ask incredulously.

She scoffs, “You and I both know you were thinking it.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t have to be so loud about it…”

“Eat up, princess. Food’s getting cold.”

Warmth spreads through your limbs as you sip on your wine with your feet tucked under you on the couch. The crackling of the fireplace is comforting, its warmth coating your skin like a soft blanket. You watch Mei Mei pour out another glass of wine for herself, her dark eyes glowing with the embers of the fireplace.

Her eyes are sharp, piercing right through the layers of magic that you’ve built around you. Mei Mei can feel the poking and prodding of your magic curling around her, almost with its own soothing heartbeat. You weren’t stupid enough to walk into the vampire’s den with absolutely no protective spells. Mei Mei can admire that.

“My mother used to warn me against vampires, you know,” you say off-handedly.

“Oh, is that so?” Mei Mei murmurs, curling up next to you on the brown leather sofa. The sofa looks brand new, barely worn in, but is still very comfortable.

“Said they’d suck me dry for all I was worth,” you shrug.

“And did you tell them that that’s exactly what you wanted?” she says with a laugh, eyes trained on the now fading, circular bruises on your neck. The deep, purple remnants of the last time you had seen Mei Mei still remain on your skin.

The memory of you sitting in Mei Mei’s lap on this very couch a week or so ago, quietly asking her to finally bite you is one seared into her brain. Her eyes flash at you as she licks her lips, fangs on display.

You cross one leg over the other, relaxing into the plush of the sofa. Mei Mei’s eyes not so subtly track the glimpse of your thighs as you shift. A quiet, dull throb echoes in her head as she thinks about the dazed, happy look in your eyes when she had drank blood from you. Witches’ blood is known to be sweet, but she swears that your blood is the sweetest honey-

Your black top haphazardly hangs off of your shoulders as Mei Mei presses her nose into your neck and inhales deeply. She can nearly taste your pulse jumping against your carotid vein- would you be as sweet as you smelled? Your warm, vanilla perfume bubbles into her nose but her senses are overwhelmed by the scent of your blood.

Witches’ blood. It’s coveted, and Mei Mei has the prettiest witch right here in her lap. Your lips are bitten and shiny, remnants from your gloss stuck on Mei Mei’s lips. You had ended up in this castle because she had requested a delivery of her products from the Apothecary.

And so here you were, one basket of potions later, in Mei Mei’s lap as she mouths at your chest while your hips move in time with hers. Her lips are even cold, not that you should’ve expected anything else.

“Look so pretty like this,” she coos, holding your face with her hand. Her freshly manicured nails are sharp against your skin, but she’ll never hurt you. Mei Mei lays you flat against the couch and buries her face in your tits without warning. You groan loudly when her lips swirl your clothed nipple- she must be impatient because she unclasps your bra and tosses it across the floor in seconds.

“O-oh,” you gasp as her cold lips press against your chest. Your back arches with each pass of her tongue on your skin. She makes you feel like the only person in the world, the way she looks at you, the way she holds you.

“This is Gojo’s shirt, isn’t it?” Mei Mei asks abruptly, tugging at the black material.

You don’t reply, too enchanted by the way her fangs protrude, nearly piercing her own bottom lip.

“Answer me, princess,” she coaxes you, finger pressed against your cheek.

“N-no, it’s my shirt. He… he stole it from me and I-I just got it back,” you breathe. Her lips curl into another smirk.

“That Gojo Satoru. Always taking what isn’t his.”

“I sure hope you’re not referring to me.”

Mei Mei scoffs. “Do you? Belong to him?”

“What do you think? I belong to no one,” you shrug, “Now, are you going to bite me? You want my blood or what?”

You draw your eyes up to meet Mei Mei’s gaze, and her icy hands are on your waist before you can reach for her.

In between refilling the stock at the Apothecary, visiting (bothering) Shoko at her shop, and visiting the forest to train and perfect your magical abilities, you think about Mei Mei and Gojo often. Just thinking about them, whether separately or together, leaves you a little hazy and wanting.

Gojo refers to you as his angel, while Mei Mei refers to you as her princess. You are neither, but they make you feel like you could be.

Shoko thinks you’re playing with fire and she chastises you every time you visit her shop. You only shrug, telling her that you know exactly what you’re doing-

“You need to be careful with those vampires. Do you even know anything about them?” Shoko lectures you, not for the first time.

“Yes, we are friends you know-” you roll your eyes.

“Friends? Friends who hook up every so often?” she shoots back at you.

“A girl can hope, can’t she?” you grin, “I told you, I’m gonna fuck them both before-”

“Ugh, don’t finish that sentence. You’re just as slutty as them.”

“Thanks, Shoko. Knew I could always count on you.”

You’re lost in your thoughts as you wander through the forest, your fingers gliding through the air as your magic guides you through the maze of trees. Fairies buzz around you, giggling up in the trees. You can even hear a nymph or two singing to themselves in a pond.

Your senses are elevated here. You hear everything, and nothing.

This section of the forest is one of your favorites, it’s hidden and the trees curl together in a way that makes you feel delightfully one with nature. It’s one of the many spots in this forest that you allow your magic to run free, uncaged by your blood.

But it seems that your usual spot is occupied.

“Oh,” you say rather loudly, dropping your bag to the grass with a soft thump, “Nobody ever comes here usually.”

“Guess your secret spot isn’t so hidden anymore, huh?” Mei Mei says, turning her powder blue braid over her shoulder. The dimming sunlight glistens on her hair and you don’t bother looking away from the lowcut of her navy blue blouse.

“I guess not.”

***

The sound of the birds chirping, the bees buzzing and of the nearby babbling brook are drowned out by the sounds of your loud moans and Mei Mei’s soft words.

The soft settling of the sun against Mei Mei’s glistening skin leaves you gasping for air, for just a little more. You refuse to let your eyes close, instead focusing your gaze on her, in her commanding radiance.

Her skin glows in the sunlight, despite the many myths about vampires.

Mei Mei’s fingers are ice cold, a soothing sensation against the warmth of your flushed chest. Her thumb brushes against your nipple as your back arches. She rolls her hips into yours as her clit catches yours, her shaky breaths matching yours. She dips her head to yours for a sharp, searing kiss, her fangs drawing blood. Her hand wraps around your neck loosely with a slight smirk and you think you see stars from how hard you cum from such a simple action.

“Oh,” Mei Mei smirks wider, “Gojo was right.”

“W-what?”

“He said you’d like this,” she grins, fangs on display as she squeezes your neck a tad tighter. Your magic pushes against her but she squeezes harder to bypass you. Her nails are sharp against your skin, just how you like it. Mei Mei likes seeing you like this, panting and whining for her touch. For her kiss, for the slow grind of her clit against yours. For more, more, more.

Your only reply is a breathy moan escaping your lips.

****

This corner of the forest was also another one of your favorites- it was the spot where your favorite cherry blossoms and camellias flourish in the moonlight. It was a small pocket of the forest, tucked away by the maple and beech trees, only allowing for a few moonbeams to wash over the soft greenery.

You come here to get away from the bustle and noise of the city, and luckily it’s not terribly far from the city. It’s your quiet time, time for you to be one with the earth. As a witch, you’ve always been in tune to the changing tides of mother nature. Being in this forest for even just a few hours revitalizes you, gets the little sparks of magic pent up under your skin flowing through your blood once more.

Purple and gold sparks come out of your fingertips as you let your magic out of its confines. You’re looking for some key ingredients that are found only in this forest to add to your shop and for your own personal collection. Namely, you’re in search of dragon’s breath and orange sun spores. You are hoping that your magic will lead you to what you’re seeking...

You wonder if it’s the forest’s magic or mere coincidence that you are led towards a clearing where the moonlight shines brightly against the grass. And against the plush green forest floor lies Gojo Satoru in all of his nearly translucent glory.

Nearly dropping your basket, he turns his head to meet your eyes with a grin.

“Hey,” he says, “You come here often?”

“Yeah, actually, I do. Do you come here often?” you ask, sitting in the patch of grass next to him. For whatever reason, the man is shirtless and you don’t bother to try to mask the spike of your heart rate. “You lie on forest floors half naked often?”

“Yeah, actually, I do,” he mimics you, looking at you from above his unnecessary sunglasses, “I live in this forest, you know. And I’m trying to get tan.”

“Tan? It’s the middle of the night.”

“Aren’t you a witch? Didn’t you know that vampires tan in the moonlight?”

“O-oh,” you shrug sheepishly, “You just had to tan in the middle of the night in my forest?”

“Your forest? I’m the one that lives here.”

Gojo pats the space next to him, gesturing for you to lay next to him. You’re close enough to him that if he was human, you’d feel the heat emanating from him. Has he always been so long?

You clear your throat.

It’s quiet between the spaces that fill the air between you and Gojo. You turn your head, only to find him already looking at you. Those ridiculously, stunning cerulean eyes already trained on you. There is an eerie breeze that filters past your ears, one that you’ve become accustomed to when it comes to Gojo Satoru.

His eyes flash a brazen burgundy for only a moment. Or so you think. These moments with him are few and far between- you wonder if you should pinch yourself. But you decide against it because he’s looking at you with that near arrogant quirk of his lips, to which you roll your eyes.

“Didn’t anyone tell you,” Gojo murmurs, his voice low with the whistle of the wind, “It’s dangerous to be out here at night. Vampires live here, you know.”

“If they’re anything like you, I don’t have anything to worry about,” you scoff, “Besides-” you twirl your fingers as vines raise from the earth and wrap around his ankles and wrists, “I’m a witch. Didn’t anyone tell you?”

“Oh, I’m very well aware,” he replies, eyes twinkling brighter than the stars above his head. Your legs knock against his, but this time, you don’t move away from the simple touch. He’s sinewy and strong, you deduce as you watch him stretch his hands over his hands. With long fingers, he plays with the grass next to him. A soft exhale of a laugh escapes your lips when he asks you what you’re doing in the forest so late at night-

“If you wanted to see me, you coulda called, angel.”

Your heart sputters once more in your chest, and you hope he can’t tell. He asks you again what you’re doing out in the forest, and you tell him that you’re searching for ingredients to restock in your shop. Gojo gives you some recommendations of where to find varying forms of sun spores, but truthfully, your gaze is fixated on the way his lips move. How ridiculously shiny his lips are and how his voice sounds muted in your ears. Smooth and low, calmly licking a trail down your spine.

Your voice catches in your throat. You think he’s asking you a question, but all you can consider is how much closer he’s gotten to you. Gojo Satoru is nearly under you, his hand hovering dangerously close to your thigh.

The wind rustles his silvery hair and your lips are on his. He tastes like cherries and wine and his muscles flex under your tight grip. Gojo breathes heavily into your mouth, hands wandering and squeezing your hips. Your own breathes are staggered and pitchy, trying to drink him in as much as you can before the moment ends-

Gojo can feel your magic poking and prodding with his own vampire magic. He’s dizzy, only able to focus on you and the sweet sound of his name on your tongue.

He wonders if this is how Mei Mei felt.

Your belly flips and your pussy flutters when you feel Gojo’s fangs beginning to elongate and prick at your bottom lip.

“B-bite me,” you say breathlessly, frantically, in a frenzy. Your heart is slamming in your chest, head filled with nothing but thoughts of him. “Fuck, bite me, Satoru-”

He nips your bottom lip gently, barely enough to draw blood. But it’s enough for you to moan wantonly into the night and rut your hips into his. More, more, more- you want to feel and see everything-

Burgundy flashes in your periphery, colliding with the celestial pools of ocean blue of Gojo’s eyes. He pulls away with swollen, puffy pink lips that turn into a salacious smirk.

“I guess you’re....thirsty, aren’t you?”

You roll your eyes and push him to the forest floor with a soft thud. Thirsty doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Gojo Satoru is the worst texter you know. His replies come hours after your initial text, often times after midnight. His texts are either dry, responses with a simple ‘OK’ or they are lewd and flirtatious enough to make your cheeks heat up. You suppose you can’t blame him for the oddly timed texts, considering his status in the vampire world.

There is often no in between, but he is grating on your nerves tonight because he’s given you no clear indication of what to wear to dinner. He had only texted you earlier this afternoon humbly requesting your presence to join him at dinner.

With no indication of what to wear or where you would be going. All he had stated was to be ready by 6:30 PM, sharp.

To which you had complained to Nanami Kento immediately. He had the unfortunate fortune of being the sole person in the Apothecary when Gojo had texted you-

“What are you getting so worked up for?” Nanami scoffs, “It’s just Gojo-” He sees your face shift minimally with the slight increase in your heart rate, “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

You decide on wearing a long, fitted black dress with a sweetheart neckline and black heels paired with a gold necklace. It’s a classic outfit, and knowing Gojo and his lavish taste, he’d have made reservations somewhere fancy.

Applying the last bit of your red lipstick, you smack your lips while facing the mirror and twirl your fingers to spray some magic to give your hair some volume. You glance at your phone and wait for the inevitable phone call from Gojo Satoru announcing his arrival to your home.

Instead of a phone call or a text, you’re greeted with obnoxious honking coming from his sleek, matte black car. You’re not entirely sure where he keeps his cars, considering that he lives in the forest. What is the need for a vampire to have a car anyway?

You leave your train of thought at the door as Gojo’s handsome features come into view. He’s leaning against his car, his blue dress shirt pulled tastefully tightly across his chest. And of course, a hint of a smirk on his lips (along with a hint of his fangs, you think).

He greets you with a kiss to the cheek. “You look good enough to eat,” Gojo nearly purrs into the shell of your ear.

“Maybe you’ll get to have dessert later,” you murmur, only causing his smirk to widen.

***

The taste of chocolate cherry ice cream is sweet on your tongue as Gojo hums into your mouth. Your eyes are dimmed as you watch his movements, his hands sliding up your waist and pulling the material of the dress even further up. The driver’s seat of the car is pushed all the way back, allowing for you to sit in his lap comfortably.

Dinner had been lovely- the food, the company, the specific way the dimmed lights hit Gojo’s eyes… It had been the perfect concoction for you to end up like this in his car. With your legs straddling his hips and you, rocking against him. He’s looking at you the same way he had looked at you during dinner, as if he wanted to devour you.

Satoru could hardly keep his hands off of you during dinner, the fire in his undead eyes burning with every gaze your way. His hand had been on your thigh for most of the night as you both ate and spoke in quiet tones. He had spoiled you with your favorite wine and by the end of dinner, you were already beginning to feel a familiar warmth pooling in your belly.

It didn’t help that his sweater was fitted to his frame, rings adorning his lithe fingers and a necklace peeking from under his sweater. You wanted to pounce on him from the moment you saw him.

The forest around you seems to fade away, your eyes trained on Satoru's face. His lips are slightly parted as he holds you tight. He’s a vision in every sense of the word, silvery hair sticking to his forehead and his electric eyes shining… If he was human, you would be certain that his chest would be flushed.

Instead, his skin is cold to the touch, but he makes you feel so hot. You’ve already pulled his sweater off and pressed heated kisses to the column of his neck- and honestly, who has a neck that’s this attractive? Him, apparently.

His cock is heavy, weeping against your panties. You clench around nothing, about to complain loudly before he pushes your panties to the side.

“What are you whining for?” he murmurs, cradling your face “I’m boutta give you what you’re whining for, baby-” And he pushes inside your warm, wet walls, reminding himself not to cum in two strokes. He just might, considering the way you’re squeezing him tight and the way your tits spill from your dress.

When it comes to you, Gojo Satoru is a goner. Mei Mei’s smug face flits through his mind for a moment. He pushes it to the side, instead focusing on your soft moans.

“Feels good, Satoru,” you mumble. He snakes a hand up your chest to squeeze your tits and rolls his thumb over your nipple. There is nothing sweeter than the slow sigh that spills from your lips.

“Yeah? Feels good?” Satoru says softly. You nod, leaning into his touch when he cradles your warm cheek. “So pretty, gonna make you feel good, angel.”

You lean forward, wordlessly asking for a kiss. He slots his lips over yours as he widens your legs, his cock at a deeper angle than before. You tremble in his hold, but he shushes you by gently sliding his tongue into your mouth.

Your chest heaves, your magic beginning to seep out your skin. Satoru can feel it curling, swirling, enveloping over him, dizziness clouding his mind. Last time he had you in his arms like this, he caught the beginnings of your magic beginning to poke and prod at him. But it’s never spilled out in this way. He figures it means you’re either comfortable with him or you’re really, very aroused. Or both.

Pulling away first to catch a breath, you shift your hips slightly and press your hands to his chest.

“Fuck, don’t look at me like that,” Satoru groans, his hips stuttering and he pulls you closer to him so your chest is plastered against his.

“Not looking at you like anything,” you mumble, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth. He pulls out quickly, only to push his cock into you once more. Your warm, wet pussy flutters around his cock as your magic swirls around his skin. He thinks he might do something like tell you that he loves you. Instead he’ll settle for-

“Fuck, I love this pussy,” he moans lewdly into your chest, lips swirling around your nipple, “Love this magical, witchy pussy-”

You smack his chest and he smacks your ass in return.

***

Mei Mei knows something akin to tomfoolery is in the air the moment she gets off of her motorcycle and turns her head to the right. She’s absolutely correct, because she sees one Gojo Satoru emerging from his obnoxious vehicle with the smuggest smirk on his face.

Which quickly slips off when he sees Mei Mei standing in front of him with her hands on her hips.

“What the hell are you doing here-”

“Me? What about you?”

“Oh, don’t lie-”

“You brought out the black lipstick. Who are you trying to fuck tonight-”

“Shut the fuck up, Gojo,” Mei Mei mutters. She looks upwards with narrowed eyes at the Astral Apothecary where your apartment is. She catches a glimpse of movement of the navy blue and golden accents curtains in the upper window, but says nothing.

“Did she invite you here?” Gojo gasps.

“It sure looks like it,” Mei Mei replies dryly.

“But she invited me here first…” he nearly whines, and Mei Mei is struck with the urge to shove him into the nearest tree.

“There’s only one way to find out,” she says. Just as she is about to text you, you open the side door to your shop, where there is a spiral staircase leading up to your apartment that hovers over the shop.

“Hello,” you say mildly, as if you hadn’t just invited both of them to your apartment for dinner and drinks. Without telling the other. Gojo looks at Mei Mei blankly.

You wordlessly gesture for them to follow you up the stairs, twirling your fingers without looking over your shoulder to close and lock the door behind you. Mei Mei and Gojo follow you up skeptically.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” you say, pointing at your front door. It’s a pretty sky blue color, and the door unlocks and turns with the movement of your index finger. The warm scent of honey and vanilla wafts into Gojo and Mei Mei’s noses. Neither of them are surprised- it smells just like you.

“Cozy,” Gojo notes, looking around your home. “Have you been here before, Mei Mei?” The walls of your living room are a welcoming green color, with a dark green velvet couch in the center. It’s all very you- from the photo frames that hang on the wall, to the flowers on display at your windowsill, and the patterned rug that sits underneath your homemade coffee table.

A bottle of wine uncorks itself and pours itself into three separate glasses, while a wooden spoon stirs a steaming pot on the stove.

“No. You?”

“Nope.”

They both look at you expectantly. Maybe, objectively, you should feel a little more fearful under the piercing gaze of two powerful vampires. Instead, it only makes your adrenaline spike in excitement.

“I heard about your bet, you know,” you say breezily, “Neither of you are quite as secretive as you think you are. For a pair of powerful vampires from powerful clans, you’re both quite… clumsy.”

Genuine surprise colors their faces, and you laugh. How ironic.

“I win, though,” your smile is blinding, eyes dripping with arousal and adoration, “After all, we both know how this is going to go. Don’t we?”

“Hang on,” Gojo sputters, “You knew? And you invited us here? Together?”

“Close your mouth, Satoru. You look like a fucking fish,” Mei Mei scoffs, “And you. You knew? And you’re not…upset?”

“Upset? Why would I be upset when this is what I’ve wanted?”

Mei Mei’s lips pull back, her fangs on display. Purple and green sparkles flit around your head, jumping onto Gojo’s shoulders and then her own. “Well, you should’ve just said so, princess.”

“As I said… I win.”

***

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #mei mei x reader #gojo x reader x mei mei #jjk x reader

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harryhandstan · 3 years ago

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prompt: harry wakes up early on starbucks cup release days and surprises you by buying all the ones he thinks you’ll like. he’s usually able to escape the paps but this time they catch him and he ends up having to explain it in his next interview and gets all shy and can’t stop blushing.

a/n: hello all!! first I want to apologize for my 4 month long writing absence. life just has not been kind to me lately and unfortunately zapped a lot of my creativity energy, but I’m happy to have something done now! hopefully I can continue and keep a more consistent schedule for the remainder of this year!

immense thank you’s are owed to my kind friends @tobesolonely and @meetmymouth for the encouragement to find my creative spark for writing again and for being amazing betas! and to @taintedwonder for the lovely idea! @theharriediaries was so sweet to beta for me as well!!

word count: 2.1k

writing tag | masterlist | tiktok inspo

Harry was usually smarter than this. He had a schedule, a plan, a way to get in and out pretty quickly without being seen.

But today, he’d lingered too long at the mugs, curious if you’d want one of those as well. Your go-to was iced coffee, even year round in the winter you would prefer something cold over anything warm. He was thinking though, of the nights you were stressed and wanted a cup of soothing tea before bed, or those slower mornings where you don’t have to rush and a mug of coffee fits nicely in your hand while he admires you from across the kitchen table.

By the time he’s decided that yes, you do need this mug with the pastel rainbow print to add to your collection, along with a few of the other cups he thinks you’ll adore and a fresh bag of your favorite flavor of coffee, there’s already a small crowd of people forming in the lobby of the coffee shop and he hopes that he can get through them without being recognized as usual; prays that it’s only the regulars filing in for an early morning fix of caffeine before they rush off to start their day.

The barista thankfully is quick, skillfully giving him his total before rushing off to make the drinks he ordered for the two of you as well. He sees the way her eyes keep darting to him though, knows after years of experience that she knows who he is and is trying to work up the courage to say something to him or ask for a photo. He almost considers offering, she’s been so nice not to draw any attention to him, maybe something discreet could be pulled off.

In the end he chooses not to, not wanting to assume that’s why she keeps looking over at him. It could be that he still has the hood of his sweatshirt tucked over his beanie or the fact that he’s now walking out of the shop with a small handful of the brown shopping bags with the familiar green logo imprinted on the front.

He breathes a sigh of relief when he makes it back to his car without anyone stopping him. He’s so distracted by securing the bags in the backseat he fails to hear the small clicks of the camera not too far away.

There’s a small comfort in the quietness of your shared apartment when he returns. While he loves coming home to the sound of you dancing around the kitchen making breakfast, his favorite is getting to wake you up himself. There’s a sweet softness in the way the side of your face rests against your pillow, mouth parted slightly and a gentle snore vibrating through your chest. It never fails to make him smile. He cherished the way you inhale faintly, stretching your limbs before blinking a few times, adjusting to the new day you’re waking up to. If he was there, already awake, your eyes always found him before anything else.

This morning is no different, except for the confusion on your face when you find him sitting on the edge of the bed instead of snuggled next to you.

“You’re up to something, I can tell.” You’re propped up enough now to accept the coffee he’s holding out for you. You take a few small sips, sighing and letting your head fall back against the headboard as you savor the taste.

“M’that easy to read, huh?” He chuckles, his hand on your thigh now, warming your skin even through the blanket, “Well..would you like your surprise here or will you be joining me in the kitchen while I make you breakfast?”

“Oh I get a surprise and breakfast today? What’s the occasion? Little early for my birthday, H.”

“Don’t need an occasion to spoil my girl, do I?”

“I guess not.”

You shrug, trying not to let the guilt bubble up enough to where it flashes across your face. One of his loudest love languages had always been gift giving, a quality about him you thought was wonderful, but still had a hard time accepting. You had to be careful about mentioning things you may want around Harry, he would use any excuse to treat you.

He’s rambling off his reasoning already as he leads you into the kitchen and settles you in one of the tall chairs next to the counter. He always ends his explanation with “I know you told me not to, but…” followed up by what you’re sure to him sounds like a very logical justification for why you need/deserve whatever he was gifting you. There’s nothing out of the ordinary of your regular kitchen set up this morning though, so you do what you normally do when he announces a surprise for you; let him take the lead, not wanting to take away from his excitement.

“So..surprise or breakfast first?” He stands on the other side of the counter now, his hoodie and beanie discarded, wearing a t-shirt you were sure you bought for yourself but he seems to have laid claim to.

“Breakfast, please. If you don’t mind.”

“‘Course not. Any requests, baby?”

Your heart flutters for a moment, just as it does each time he uses that particular term of affection for you. He’s already opened the refrigerator, scanning over options for what he could make for the two of you. You recover long enough to tell him no, that whatever he wants to make would be fine, sitting back and enjoying the view as he cracks a few eggs into a bowl.

You don’t even notice that you’re staring until he turns and catches your eye, “What? Did I get a shell in the eggs or something?”

You giggle as he even picks up the clear bowl of eggs that he’s already scrambled and seasoned, even going so far as to swirl his finger through the liquid to double check before you can stop him.

“No, it’s just..I can’t get over the fact that you’re making breakfast for me while wearing my t-shirt.”

“S’it yours?” He glances down at it, “Thought it was mine, sorry..”

There’s a smirk on his face as he turns back to the stove, and you know just by seeing that he knows you don’t mind; you love seeing him in your clothes as much as he adores seeing you in his.

It’s not long before he’s presenting you with a plate, sitting next to you with his own plate in front of him. When you don’t immediately dig in, he leans over to inspect the food, worried that maybe he’d overdone the eggs or your toast was slightly more brown than you liked.

So when you say, “You’ve forgotten something very important, haven’t you?” he panics, thinking maybe he should’ve taken the time to include fruit to balance the meal. You take pity on him, not making him wait too long before you lean in and he instantly softens, realizing what you’re asking for.

He meets you the rest of the way, lips soft against yours, the taste of the coffee you’ve both had lingering for a moment before he pulls away, “Very important. How could I ever have forgotten?”

When you’ve both finished eating, he downs the last of his coffee and stacks your now empty plates to take to the sink, pecking your forehead with another quick kiss, “Alright, close your eyes. Count to 20.”

You begin to count off in your head, and you hear his voice, a bit further away, “Out loud, angel.”

There’s a rustling of bags getting closer as you count, and you can even hear a few clinks as they come closer. You can feel him moving around you, positioning things perfectly for when you open your eyes.

He’s still behind you when you finish counting, hands squeezing your shoulders to urge you to open your eyes. When you do, you immediately recognize the bags and know exactly what he’s done.

“Oh no. Absolutely not. This is too much, Harry. I let you spoil me with little things here and there, but I cannot accept this.”

Sitting in front of you are..you stop to count them now; 1, 2, 3, 4..6 bags from Starbucks. You know from experience that each one of them contains 2 cups or mugs. You’re sure at least one of them also includes your favorite roast of coffee. He had done this before around Christmas time, when you’d mentioned how adorable a few of the ones from the holiday collection had been, not thinking that he would go back later without you and buy all the ones you’d touched or admired.

He ignores your refusal, “You can take back any you don’t like. Go on,” He peeks inside one of the bags closest to him and then pushes it closer to you, “Start with this one.”

“Harry, really..”

“Don’t think, just open. If you really won’t accept any of them then I’ll take ‘em back and buy you something from somewhere else.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” You try your best to look serious, but you can’t stop the smile from spreading across your face, “Thank you, H.”

You finally go through most of the bags, offering oohs and ahhs and even a few squeals of joy at certain ones.

“I think I got all the ones you’d pick for yourself. Saw you eyeing one or two the other day and the others I just guessed.”

He had done very well in choosing for you, even going so far as to get the two of you a matching pair of the kind that changed colors with the temperature.

“For our smoothies.” He explains when you give him a particularly soft look at the idea of matching with him.

“Also got us a matching set of these,” He skips to the last bag, too eager to wait for you to open it yourself, revealing the mug he’d taken the extra time to select, “For our Sunday morning tea. Or if you change your mind and ever want a hot coffee.”

All you can do is repeat the same expression of gratitude as before you had opened them, “Thank you again, H. I love them all, really. No more though, alright? We’re running out of cabinet space. Did you go to our regular spot or a different one so you wouldn’t be recognized?”

“Different one. Can’t believe I wasn’t spotted though. Must’ve been too early for the paps to be out and about.”

“Or maybe you aren’t as interesting as you think you are, babe. Harry Styles coming out of a Starbucks is old news now.”

His eyebrows shoot up in mock surprise, “Oh is it now?”

“Mhmm. You’re just plain boring now, H.” You shrug, peeling at the price tag on the bottom of one of the cups, avoiding his gaze; knowing if you look at him you’ll break into a fit of laughter.

He’s impossibly calm, just like he is before any interview he does.

You sit across the room from where he’s currently getting his hair done. The stylist was nervous, understandably so, her hands unsure at first. It only takes a few moments of being near Harry; working his quiet, delicate magic of putting anyone he’s near at ease. By the time his hair is finished he’s pulled a few laughs from her and she leaves the room with a big beaming smile and a wave to the both of you.

Now that you’re alone again, he beckons you closer and tugs you down to sit in his lap, despite your protests of the possibility of wrinkling his incredibly expensive suit.

“Don’t care,” He leans up to press a kiss to your neck, keeping his face tucked there in your warmth, “Just want you close for a moment.”

Normally you would run your fingers through his hair, but you don’t dare do that now, hand drifting to the side of his face instead, “Not nervous are you, H?”

He lets you gently push him back enough to see his face again, “Never. Just happy to have you here with me, that’s all.”

It’s not until he’s in front of the audience, presented with the evidence of just a few days before, displayed on a screen for all to see. He had been caught, despite his confidence of getting away. He falters for only a beat, head down in hopes to hide the blush spreading high along his cheeks. He finds you in the crowd, sending a bright smile your way before he shrugs, turning his attention back to the host.

“What can I say? My sunshine likes her coffee.”

tag list: @harrysblackcoat, @summertime-pills

thank you for reading!! as always likes, rbs, and feedback is welcome and appreciated!!

#harry x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #my writing

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space-mermaid-writing · 3 years ago

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House Arrest [Loki X Reader] Chapter 1

Summary: You are Clint’s 'little' sister and actually a trained Shield agent. But you gave that up a few years ago and became a Chef, because you wanted a normal live. Then one day Natasha shows up at your door and takes you to the Avenger Tower for a while for security reasons.

Tags: Reader is an former Shield Agent, chef!reader, Reader Barton, 2012 Avenger vibes, everything is still alright, Slice of Life, Avengers Family, Loki has a good heart, still the god of mischief, Slow Burn, mention of food and cooking

Read it on AO3

Chapter 1: New Home

It's just before midnight when you finally get off work. You really like your job, but the hours are murder. Being a chef at one of the most expensive five-star restaurants in Philadelphia has its price. You take off your apron, which has hardly any stains from the last few hours on it, and throw it in the wash. The white jacket goes neatly into your locker and is replaced by a cardigan and a scarf. It’s a cool night. With a last good bye to your colleagues, who are still putting the dishes into the dishwashers, you make your way home.

The night is dark, but the streets are lit by lanterns and the windows of closed stores. Even if it had been pitch black, it wouldn't have worried you to have to walk alone through the empty alleys. Last year a guy had tried to rob you and threatened you with a knife. You had given him a broken nose and several stab wounds in the shoulder. After all, you had been trained at Shield. But the poor guy didn’t know that.

Half an hour later you arrive at your apartment. It's more functional than nicely furnished, and everything is a bit of a pick 'n' mix. But you don't mind it, because you spend most of your time at work anyway. At home you don't feel such great importance to culinary variety when it comes to your own food. A pizza or French fries with ketchup were always welcome. After all, you've been standing at the stove long enough at work. Tired, you decide to wait until breakfast for your next meal and, after a quick change of clothes, just fall into bed.

Fortunately, the next day is your day off. You make good use of it and sleep in. Afterwards you have an nice brunch with eggs, bacon and toast and after a short shower you go into town to do some errands. The sun is shining warmly from the sky and it's a beautiful spring day. If this holds up until the weekend, maybe you'd visit the weekly market and see what exotic and rare foods you can grab there. You love these little trips, even if you rarely find the time.

About two hours later and with three full shopping bags, you re-enter your apartment. It's on the second floor of a rather nondescript building, but the interior is very modern, with pastel-colored, high walls. You put everything in the kitchen cabinets and then brew yourself a tea/coffee, with which you make yourself comfortable on the couch and turn on the TV. It's time to relax a little. So you zap through the programs, watch the rest of an episode of your favorite series and then decide to watch a reality series, which is not exactly known for its quality but is entertaining. So the noon goes by until suddenly the doorbell rings. You get up to see if it's the mailman or a neighbor with a package. But a look through the peephole shows you that it is neither. Surprised, you open the door "Nat!" Natasha Romanoff is a friend of you and your brother, as well as the godmother of his children. But due to her job you rarely see each other. "Hey," she greets you with a small smile. "Can I come in?" "Sure." You lead her into the living room, where you turn off the TV. "What can I get you? Tea, coffee, milkshake?" "Coffee is fine." You disappear into the kitchen for a moment as she sits down in the armchair. Natasha was a rare visitor. Mostly she came with some news from Clint. You see him even less because he spends what little free time he has mostly with his wife and the two kids. Understandable. You don't hold it against him and try to visit them on holidays or for birthdays at her farm.

It doesn't take long until you return to the Russian woman with a new cup and some pastries and sit down on the couch again. "Well," you ask her curiously. "What do I owe the pleasure?" Natasha reaches for her cup. "It’s rather inconvenience. But first tell me if you’ve observed anything unusual lately." Questioningly, you look at her. "What do you mean?" "Nothing weird? You sure?", she asks. "Tell me what I'm supposed to have seen, please," you prompt her, both impatient and confused. Natasha gets right to the point. "You're being monitored." "By Shield?" "By Hydra." Stunned by this news, you remain silent. Natasha uses this pause to drink her coffee. "Oh, this is really good." But you don't listen to her at all, because various thoughts are circling in your head. And again you try to remember if you have noticed anything: same people you met, vehicles, anything. But you got pretty used to your life and didn't pay attention at these things. "Anyway, I'm here to pick you up. For your own safety it’s best if you stay with us for a while," Natasha finally breaks the silence and you look up. "What could Hydra possibly want from me? I don't know any internal secrets anymore. There are better to kidnap than me." "That's what we're trying to figure out right now." "Well, the danger doesn't seem to be acute", you note. "If they wanted to grab me, I wouldn't be sitting here by now. Thanks, but I decline and prefer to stay here. I have my job and the apartment." And now that you know what's going on, you can pay attention and take the necessary precautions, too. "Thanks for warning me." Natasha, on the other hand, doesn't look like she gives you a choice. "You know Shield has its ways to convince you?", she reminds you, but you shrug. Why would such a large organization bother with a single civilian like you? "What does my dear brother say about this matter?", you ask instead. "He hasn't been informed yet." Ergo, they deliberately leave him out of it so that he can't protest. You know this kind of approach of Shield.

Clint understands and supports you in your civilian life, even though he protested the loudest back when you announced your exit. "How’s he?", you want to know from Natasha, who is now finishing her coffee. "He's alive." That can mean just about anything from being happy and healthy to badly hurt but breathing. Better than being dead, you guess. "He's out in Africa with Steve right now." "Busy, huh?" "As usual." She stands up as a sign that she has nothing more to say for the day, and you walk her to the door, where you bid her farewell. "We'll talk again soon," she promises, but admittedly you have little desire to do so right now. "Sure," you reply and close the door behind her.

Well, that were some news. You put her empty cup in the sink and pause thoughtfully by the window. How could you have missed Hydra's agent, you ask yourself while glancing out. Your new life made you too comfortable. But it also takes up a lot of time and energy. And anyway, you dropped out because you didn't want to be cautiousness all the time anymore. You wanted a normal life with a normal job and normal problems. Away from agents, assassinations and super powers. You didn't want to check every day on your way to work if you were being followed, secretly monitored or if someone else was out to get you. That's why you’ve chosen this life. With a sigh, you sit back down on the couch. The past never leaves you alone, you guess. But tomorrow would be a long day even without these new old worries.

The advantage of being a chef is usually that you don't have to get up at the crack of dawn for work. Most Restaurants open at noon, some even in the evening. So does the one where you work. There are preparations to be made before opening time, but you can still sleep through the morning, do some housework, and then head to the restaurant in the sunny afternoon. That's where the trouble starts, though. Just as you're about to open your locker to change your clothes, someone taps you on the shoulder. It's your boss, who hands you a letter. You can tell immediately from his serious expression that something is wrong. And when you open the envelope, you discover your resignation. You look up, perplexed, but you lose out in the following discussion. You don't even get a decent explanation, and that’s what annoys you the most. You're pretty sure your skills aren’t the issue, neither is the way you work. Nor the way you treat your colleagues, with whom you get along very well, even if the tone among cooks is a bit rough. You go back to your apartment, now in a bad mood. It‘s unbelievable! The sunny weather seems like a mockery to you now, and the people you meet along the way are in far too good a mood, in your opinion. It will be hell to find another good job as this was.

Arriving back home you immediately get more bad news: your landlord put a notice on your apartment door. The bathrooms in the building will get completely renovated soon and will be unusable for several weeks. Plus the heavy construction noise during the day. And the water would be turned off. It would be best to find temporary substitute apartment, so they recommend. "Haha...ha..." You laugh dryly and unlock the door. Was that a coincidence? When Natasha had been here yesterday? Probably not. You know Shield's methods and that it’s easy for them to take away your job and your apartment just to get their way. You have two options: either you accept the offer before Shield gets any more stupid ideas, or you run away and try to hide. With a sigh you go into your bedroom and throw a suitcase on the bed, in which you pack clothes, the most important documents and some things from the kitchen you need for work. Not everything fits, so you add a second travel bag. Meanwhile, you think about who you could complain to. Your brother was a favorite target of yours, but he a) had nothing to do with this matter and b) was not in the country. Which’s a shame, because you'd really like to have him by your side right now. If you wanted to complain to Shield directly, Fury would probably be the best person to do it. But you hold too much respect for him to vent your anger to him. Maybe just the next Shield agent who would come to you on this matter would have to step in. You know someone would definitely get back to you. With one last look around your apartment, you leave it and lock the door. Then you shoulder your bag and make your way out.

Just as you're thinking about getting a large coffee from Starbucks down the street, a red sports car pulls up to the side of the road. Natasha at the wheel. "Hmph..." You walk over to her and throw your luggage in the back seat. Then you take a seat in the passenger seat yourself. "Just for the record, I'm not happy with this." "I can see that." She tries to give a sympathetic smile, but you know this is just a job to her. "Well then, off to the Bat Cave, Wayne." "Does that make you Robin?", the Russian asks, driving off. "I guess", you reply snippy, not interested in keeping the conversation going. Fortunately, Natasha wasn't exactly the talkative sort either, so you have some peace and quiet to get your thoughts in order.

It takes you just under two hours to drive from Philadelphia to New York with city traffic slowing you down a bit. Otherwise, you would have arrived earlier at the former Stark Tower. It's been the Avenger Tower for some time now, but that doesn't make much difference, except that Tony Stark seems to be too lazy to put the remaining letters back on it.

Natasha parks in the private underground garage and you take the elevator up to the grand lobby. She tells you about the current residents here. There’s the usual staff, who are of course always present. Of all the Avengers, Bruce Banner is living here permanently. "He actually hardly ever leaves the lab," the Russian explains. "I'm currently living here, too. Every now and then Thor stops by, but mostly he prefers to explore the world. And his brother Loki is here. There have been some...problems with him and he's sort of under supervision here. Tony trusts technology more than Asgard. The owner of the house, by the way, is out visiting an outpost right now." "There are even Avengers outposts?" Natasha nods as she walks you down the halls to the living area. "But don't tell Hydra." "Sure", you promise unfazed. "Speaking of which, if I want to go out to visit someone, do I need a key or how does this work?" "It's better if you stay here in the house for now. It's for your safety, after all." "For how long?", you want to know. The answer is short. "As long as necessary." "So I'm sort of locked in here”, you state. That's typical Shield. As soon as there's any problem, an agent is sent in to put everything in solitary arrest or quarantine. As long as it’s shielded from the rest of the world. Natasha stops in front of a door that is now yours, but doesn't look directly at you, which as much of an answer as you get. "I'll be fine on my own now, thanks," you smile politely but not genuinely at her, and after she assures you that you're free to move around inside the building, you head off with your luggage in your new apartment.

#Loki #Loki x Reader #House Arrest #Chapter 1 #my writing #Clint #clint barton #hawkeye #loki laufeyson #imagine #chef reader #mcu #marvel

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buchananbarnes1991 · 4 years ago

Text

Unus Annus Sentence Meme Starter

“Hey buddy buddy buddy buddy!”

“Our long time colleagues are 419 hours a day deny you here!”

“Peoples dream, must first be full of blood!”

“When we arrived in my backyard, we stopped the fire.”

“We quickly eliminated the enemy, and the fight was depressing.”

“Boy am I hungry!”

“Zip zap zop!”

“I don’t know if this was your idea, but we’ll roll with it.”

“This wouldn’t be the first time like, ‘hey I’ve got an idea.’ when we told you it weeks ago.”

“With the guidance of a guardian angel, you can do anything.”

“What am I teaching you how to do?”

“You don’t need to make it! I’m making it!”

“Have you washed your hands? You should wash your hands.”

“You can have the knife when you need the knife.”

“Close the door and never go back!”

“I want you to do something for me. Take a balloon, stretch it out..nice and wide.”

“Some of us are more gifted than others.”

“Okay, so what are we doing here? What is this?”

“I think that the way that I’d kill you is..’take you by the hands. come this way. I’ve got something to show you. just something you HAVE TO SEE.’ “

“In highschool. I dated a girl...her name was, Abigail. Very smart and driven. I was a stupid boy.”

“I still hadn’t let go, but they called me to tell me. She’d let go.”

“She looked down at the ground and then looked back up me. She giggled a bit and then said ‘Oh, don’t you know? I have feelings for Troy.’ “

“When you’re a late bloomer and you spend most of your time alone in a dark room with various ‘websites’, it turns out that feeding my entire adolescences with perverted thoughts from various unsavory sources makes a distorted impression of the act of making love.”

“After about thirty minutes of dry thrusting, I found myself incapable of completion.”

“The first time I ever had sex, I had to fake my own orgasm..just to get it over with.”

“I too was a late bloomer. I didn’t know anything about intercourse or foreplay or anything.”

“We heard the tent unzip, her thirteen year old brother came through the tent! He didn’t see us. But, we were there. He said ‘Dinner’s ready.’ Under the protection of the sleeping bag we were replied ‘OKAY!’, He exited and I-- *giggles* exited.”

“I think that’s enough therapy for one day. Remember, it’s okay to talk about embarrassing of your life.”

“You stand here..I’m gonna take my shoes off.”

“I need to climb around you.”

“Using teamwork and trust and...t-t-t....team work, you get one person from one end of the body, all the way around to the same end.”

“You think you know us, but we only show you what we want you to see.”

“Let’s get climbing.”

“I thought we were gonna watch a movie.”

“And then I PILE DRIVE YOU’RE SPINE...paralyzed for life.”

“I AM ALWAYS STABLE. Don’t even try to unstablize me.”

“Felt like an emotional burden unloaded.”

“Death comes for all of us and we’ve gotta prepare.”

“It’s a beautiful world, with a lot of caskets.”

“I’m just thinking about America...it’s not a great time to think about America.”

“Can we see some different caskets? Can you show us some metal ones, some wood ones?”

“Let’s start with the highest! And then we’ll work down to where we’re comfortable.”

“Why is Mahogany like the universally known wood? It’s used in all the movies, everyone talks about it. If they want quality, they want a Mahogany.”

“Obviously it’s a beautiful wood, but what makes Mahogany so special?”

“With Mahogany if you look at it. If you pass your eyes to the side, it changes. It goes with you.”

“You are supposed to be buried in dirt. From dust to dust.”

“I don’t want it to be too comfortable. I’d like to stay alert.”

“I don’t know, what does it mean to be afraid? I’m not afraid of death.”

“I don’t like the feel of velvet. I mean, I’ll touch it.”

“Mmh....velvet...”

“That’s the thing! Like old production stuff was built to last, FOREVER!”

“For now you can kneel.”

“They’re Nigerian dwarf goats. They’re gonna be your yoga partners today.”

“I twisted a man into a pretzel. I could do the same to you.”

“I twisted myself into a pretzel.”

“It’s so much more fun to do a plank with a goat on your back.”

“The goats come to you. The motto that we like to have it ‘trust the goats.’ “

“Oh, wait. Wait! I didn’t know we were competing.”

“When I did hot yoga. I kicked everyone’s ass.”

“There’s a lot goatin’ on.”

“You flinchy bastard.”

“Alright, there’s a goat there.”

“I always tell people that they will fire their massage therapists because goat massages are way better.”

“Yeah, it’s real firm.”

“Ow, oh god. Your tallons!”

“Oh, tight pants..tight pants!”

“Those are quitters who think that you have to have the perfect conditions to do things but if you can do things in times of adversity that’s when you know you’re really committed to a cause!”

“Anyone want kisses?”

“It’s okay to show emotions.”

“CRY LITTLE BITCH, CRY!”

“No one’s crazy enough to do it!”

“We knew this year was going to be hell.”

“Hey! Seven days..”

“There’s always still time for things to go wrong.”

“We’ll save them for the future.”

“No, there’s no future.”

“I hope I die in a hilarious way. I hope my death can be told as a joke, like it’s so funny how I died. People can get one last joy. One last laugh.”

“I’m not afraid of death, but I am afraid of dying.”

“Okay, we only have our sixth sense to see with. Okay? Much like Bruce Willis in the show Sixth Sense, spoiler, I know it’s new. He sees dead eggs everywhere.”

“You can do it with dominoes too, but be careful with that one cause once to get a hundred or more dominoes and you spill ‘em all over, it’s gonna take all afternoon to set ‘em back up.”

“So you better fucking see with your brain or else you won’t be able to have a good time.”

“Ouch ouch ouch! That’s not an egg.”

“I think you need to go a little slower.”

“Oh...Puppies!”

“Should we turn on the emergency camper light?”

“I’m just such a neat freak.” “You know we need to try and escape.”

“What a profound man, that shot out the load that is Tony Stark.”

“This is a literal don’t show it. Oh god, all of his nudes are right there!”

“Gone gone, forever.”

“Two idiots cause ten care pile up from buttplug dropedge.”

“Hook car batteries up to my nipples? I’ll say yes every time!”

“I’m not a masochist. I’m really not. I’m glad I have this uninterrupted moment to talk about this. I’m not a masochist. I’m just curious.”

“I’ve never been hit by a car, outside of my car? What’s that like? I DON’T KNOW!”

“Sometimes, I am an idiot and..I match your intelligence level. THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT!”

“We’ve been edging father time for a year.”

“Recognize my face, thank you.”

“Oh it was terrible. You didn’t tell me about all the bears along the way.”

“Nice camel toe.

“Do you want me to get nurse Tracy?”

“When we tried to crush those melons, SHE TOOK TWO!”

“I was thinking the other night, what if the next melon is [insert muses’s name here] skull?”

“I just like doing what I’m told.”

“A man of few words, a man of action.”

“Are our faces being used as Capchas’ now?”

“Thank you god, thats’s a good idea.”

“God said we could!”

“Doesn’t matter what you do, to keep it from ending. Once it ends. It’s gone forever.”

“I don’t know you but you’re here, a lot. I guess you’re fine.”

“I couldn’t get it off, I felt like I was gonna rip your skin off.”

“YOU WERE GONNA RIP MY SKIN OFF.”

“We got all this time that we can relax! We’ve got like a week to relax...”

“Neither of us have ever been pepper sprayed. Let’s get pepper sprayed!”

“It’s burning as if there’s some hot oil.. on my eyes.”

“My eyes are okay now.”

“This fucking sucks so bad.”

“I would not recommend getting pepper sprayed.”

“When I was a young lad. All I had was my imagination and the woodland creatures.”

“You shot me twice! I get to shoot you with a paintball at some point in the future.”

“There is no easy!”

“Math wasn’t my strong suit, nor was anything.”

“He’s an idiot but he can read well.”

“Look at me in the eyes boy, you’ll never be stronger than me.”

“How do you have time for anything, do you not sleep?”

“Your shirt needs to be off.”

“I think you just want me to take my shirt off.”

“Ugh...I’m fine.”

“I need gloves, I need gloves, hang on, I gotta get gloves!”

“I don’t wanna do anything with drainage.”

“What bone would you say hurts?”

“That’s what the picture said to do, breast feed your patient.”

“Your bed’s not very comfortable.”

“THE GONGOOZLER!”

“It not over, it’s close.”

“In six hours, we’re done.”

“It’s hard to say goodbye, but it’s important.”

“Beautiful, a sailor’s dream to come across the mermer.”

“DELETE ME!! CUT ME OUTTA HERE!!”

“I’m being an asshole now.”

“It’s not hope, it’s delusion.”

“You can’t speed your way into heaven!”

“Have you ever looked at your tongue too long in the mirror and it no longer looks like it belongs to you?”

“Biology is just a constant nightmare.”

#Unus Annus #Sentence Starter

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years ago

Text

Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale

An Advent Calendar of 24 Normal Human Tasks As Performed By A Huge Man Baby.

Day 10: Shop Till You Drop

Warnings: Bad Language words

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: Instalment 10 of mine, @sweater-daddiesdumbdork and @jennmurawski13 ‘s telling of Ransom’s quest to become a normal human being. This time Ransom takes on a Supermarket…

Series Masterlist.

“Will you stop!” You sighed, exasperatedly.

“Stop what?” Ransom frowned, tossing another box of Pop Tarts into the trolley he was pushing round the Supermarket

“Loading the trolley full of crap!”

“Why?”

“Because we don’t need it.”

“So?” he shrugged “I want it.”

You let out another groan “That’s all it ever boils down to with you isn’t it?”

“What the fuck is eating you today?” he snarked back, folding his arms across his chest. “Or is it more a case of nothing has eaten you, if you get my drift?”

“God you’re a fucking…” you growled and shook your head, “frankly the thought of you going near me at the moment makes me wanna puke. I’m tired. I have back ache and my legs are sore. We came in with a list and it should have taken us twenty minutes tops but oh no, you just keep stopping for a load of shit we don’t need and it's taking us twice as long and I just want to go home!”

The last word broke as you began to sob, the damned hormones flooding your system and Ransom’s eyes flew open in panic. He was used to your little outbursts thanks to his spawn growing inside of you, but this was the first time you’d had one in public.

“Y/N, stop.” He urged you, moving round the trolley towards you. He hesitated, before he opened his arms, clearly not sure if you were going to slap him or not but you didn’t have the energy. Instead you let him pull you to him, pressing your face into his sweater, breathing in his heady scent. His hands gently ran up your back as you fought for control, eventually pulling away as you looked up at him. His large hands cupped your face gently and he pressed his lips to yours, smirking a little “And you say I’m a brat?”

“Fuck off, Ransom.” You pulled away.

“Okay, okay!” he chuckled. “Look, why don’t you-“ he fished into his jeans pocket and handed you the keys to the Merc “-go wait in the car? I’ll finish up.”

“You’re going to finish getting the groceries?”

“Yeah.”

You blinked, before you shrugged “Fine, but don’t forget anything on that list or I swear to God you’ll be couched for a week.”

“Jesus, Y/N.” He plucked the list out of your hand, rolling his eyes “Just go for fucks sake.”

You glared at him once more before you turned on your heel and left him in the middle of the aisle, without so much as a look back. As you left through the exit, you took a deep breath, instantly feeling calmer and you felt a little guilty at your outburst as he hadn’t actually been doing much wrong. He had always been a pain in the ass when it came to shopping and you’d tried so hard to get him to stay at home, but he was insistent that he came to help. You should be grateful really, you knew that, he was only trying to ensure you didn’t do too much but all it resulted in was him getting on your last nerve and an emotional outburst like the one you’d just had.

True to form he’d been a complete fucking tool from the moment you set foot in the shop. Completely ignoring you and piling anything and everything he liked the look of into the trolley, even if you knew half of it would go to waste. But that was him and his damned family all over. More money than fucking sense.

Fuck it, he could deal with it. You were going to take a nap in the comfy passenger seat whilst he finished. And woe betide him try anything when you got home later on that evening, if he so much as made a single amorous advance towards you that night you’d rip his cock off.

****

Ransom watched Y/N stalk off away from him an exhaled, loudly, whilst also giving himself a mental pat on the back for being smart enough to tell her to go and wait in the car. Allowing her to rest whilst he complete the shopping was most certainly going to put him in her good books. And, if he played his cards right and even unloaded the groceries at the other end, he’d most certainly get a bit of bedroom fun later on.

Yup, Ransom Drysdale was a clever bastard.

That said, he did feel a tad guilty. He knew she’d been struggling the last few days with her back and seeing her burst into tears in the middle of Whole Foods had made him realise just how much energy she was using growing their baby. Maybe he had been a bit of a pain in the ass, but he hadn’t meant to be. He just liked what he liked and seeing as money wasn’t an issue why shouldn’t he get it?

He glanced down at the list, there wasn’t that much left on it. So he hastily made his way around the store allowing himself only one little detour for an unlisted item- some Lavender and Camomile bath salts for Y/N which he intended to use later when he drew her a bath to help her relax- and then made his way to the check outs.

This was the bit he hated, with a passion. Unloading and then waging a war with the damned items at the other end whilst he tried to bag them as quickly as the checkout ninja scanned them and slid them down to him. However, as luck would have it, today’s ‘ninja’ was more of a ‘nan-ja’, and to his relief the coffin-dodger took her time, having to bend so close to the screen to see the items her nose might as well have been touching it. This allowed him enough time to bag everything as Y/N did- raw meats separate, then chilled, frozen, fresh and tinned. He paused, as the final bag containing the 3 bottles of his preferred wine and a 4 pack of beer felt a little strained and he pondered double bagging. But decided against it. It was only going in the back of the car from the trolley, he’d just make sure to support it underneath.

Eventually the woman, who now he studied her must have been the same age as his fucking Great-Nana Wanetta, scanned the last item which was a bar of Y/N’s favourite chocolate he’d picked up from the stand at the end of the checkout, and turned to him smiling. She read out the total and he passed his card over, looking around as she scanned it and pressed a few buttons. Finally, the ordeal was over and he took his card and receipt before making his way back outside.

Job well done, even if he did say so himself.

He pushed the trolley over the car park, stopping only to hurl abuse at some absolute moron in a Toyota who nearly took him out when he skidded round the corner, and opened the trunk to the car. He loaded the bags, took the trolley back (well, he pushed it to the spare space besides the car because fuck walking over to the Trolley Park, that’s what they paid the simpleton in the hat and hi-viz to do) and made his way to the driver’s door. He dropped in besides his girl and she turned to face him, a smile spreading across her face as he handed her the Hershey’s.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Its ok baby.” He smiled at her as she leaned over to give him a soft kiss “Cooking my boy is zapping it outta you huh?”

“Just a tad.” She shrugged “But I shouldn’t have snapped. Thank you for finishing up.”

Ransom shrugged “No big deal.” he gave her another quick kiss before he put the car in reverse and drove towards the parking lot exit, a soft smirk playing on his handsome face

Yup, he was off Santa’s Naughty List for sure.

*****

“Go and put your feet up, I got this.” Ransom assured you as you made your way to the trunk to help unload the shopping.

"You sure?"

“Positive.” He nodded, his arms wrapping around you from behind, large hands sweeping over the front of your jacket, softly caressing your bump. “It won’t take me long to unload and put it all away. Then we can curl up and I’ll order us that pizza you’ve been talking about all day.”

“Extra olives?”

“Whatever you want.” He pressed a kiss to your neck and you bit your lip. You had to admit, that did sound like a damned fine idea. And, to be honest, he was pretty good at unpacking groceries, that was one area he was actually trained in after years of you whipping him into shape.

“Okay.” You tilted your head round to look at him, giving him a quick kiss “Can you keep the mincemeat out for tomorrow’s dinner and the rest of the meat-“

“Can go in the freezer, yeah, I know.” He stepped back, reaching for a bag “I’m not a complete moron.”

“Debatable.” You muttered, ignoring the eye-roll that came your way as you stepped away from him. You headed to the front door, your pace slow as your baby was doing what felt like the tango in your belly. He seemed to be doing that a lot recently, especially when Ransom had touched your bump and spoken to you, almost like he was reacting directly to his Daddy. When you’d told Ransom so the previous night, he’d positively beamed at you with pure unadulterated love on his features, something which you were sure no one but you ever saw. You rubbed your belly, a soft smile on your face, telling your unborn son to quieten down a little, and you’d just unlocked the door when you heard a loud yell, followed by the smashing of glass and a string of expletives from your husband.

“Mother fucking, asshole, bastard crap bag!”

You spun round to see Ransom stood with a carrier bag in his hand, the bottom flapping as it had completely given way. Green and brown glass littered your drive way as a pool of red-wine and beer swam around his expensive chukkas. He screwed the bag up, tossing it into the trunk as he ran a hand through his hair, growling in annoyance.

“How much did you just drop all over the drive way?” you asked and he peeked up at you and grimaced.

“Eighty bucks worth. That was some quality merlot.”

“Well, maybe next time you’ll remember to double bag.” You shook your head, before you nodded to it “Make sure you clean that up. I’d hate to reverse over it and get another flat. Woe betide we have a performance like last time.”

“Oh, I dunno.” He quipped, a smirk spreading across his face “I happen to think the performance last time was pretty good. You certainly didn’t have any complaints once I got you back inside and sat on my face.”

You blinked, before you scoffed and shook your head “Do you know where the brush and dustpan is or should I draw you a map?”

“Fuck you.” He shot back, his eyes narrowed in a glare and you grinned, shrugging.

“Maybe later.” and with that you headed inside leaving him to grieve for his precious alcohol, which had been taken from him far too soon…

#real life taks with ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you

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misumeaw-blog · 3 years ago

Text

13 Days 13 Fanfics | Counting down Albedo’s Birthday

Pairing : Albedo x GN! Reader

Genre : Fluff | Established relationship

Warning : None

Word count : 1,699 words

note : I can die peacefully now, I believe the entire family can hear me screaming. Day 13 will be based on Albedo's mail. I suck at kissing btw, sooo I tried

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Day 12 Moment of Birth Part 1: Midnight

Light from houses in the city of freedom starting to turn into darkness; but not all, liveliest place in the slumbering city in the lake still filled with drunkards and music from the bard. Angel share, is night-active with drinks and socializing drinkers.

You have a meeting with your friends to discuss what to give Albedo for his birthday, Although..

“You guys seriously haven’t kissed yet? It’s been nearly a year”

things seemed going in the completely wrong direction “Shhh quiet please, Captain Kaeya. It’s not a big deal, I understand he wanted to take things slow” Still, there are times where you yearn for more than hugs and pecks on your face.

“Our Chief Alchemist has really taken your advice Too well, Kaeya” Lady in purple attire and a large witch hat, decorated with roses spoke up “That little genius never opened up for this sort of relationship” eyepatch man took another gulp to his mouth “I’m still surprised you managed to make him fall for you”

“Kaeya, rude” lightly zapped the one-eyed captain before turning to you “If he doesn’t make the first step, you’d need to do it” she placed her finger on your lips “Alright, alright, stop everyone” you harsh your friends before things getting out of hand “I just wanted a piece of advice on what to give Albedo for his birthday, so how did this turned to-“ Yup, that sparked your idea.

Both Knights of Favonius glanced at each other then back to you “Do you still need our help?”

The following morning you knocked on the Acting Grand Master’s room “Come in” an assertive voice flew out from the wooden door “Good morning, Master Jean. Do you know where Klee is?” “Good morning, I think she’s by the lake near Wolvendom. Oh and if you’re going to meet her, please make sure she doesn’t explode all the fish” she spoke without looking at you, eyes on massive amounts of paperwork

“One other thing, Acting Grand Master. I would be greatly appreciated if you kindly grant Albedo’s leave on his birthday” you figured your boyfriend might need a day off, in case he wanted to spend time with you and Klee “Oh right, his birthday is approaching” she glanced at the calendar “Yes of course, please do send him my regards if I couldn’t inform him myself” Closing the door after thanking her, ‘alright, off to Wolvendom’ you recalled your plan

Explosions can be heard from afar, the little girl should be nearby. Fish flying out in the sky, big splash easily visible. A small girl in red clothing having fun tossing bombs into stilled water. You called for her and she turned around “Y/N! Klee missed you” red coat sprinting to you, hugging you as soon as you’re in her reach By now she sees you as another sibling, despite you’re actually dating her brother. “Having fun today mh Klee?” glancing at the amount of dead fish on the ground “Yup! The kind uncle at the fishing asso..asso..” “Fishing association?” “Yes! the fishing association told Klee there’s a bunch of new fish all over Mondstadt, Klee will blast them all” You know fishing normally is better for the fish, but you let it slide for her happiness “Hey Klee, I have to borrow your brother the day before his birthday; well, tomorrow, is that alright?” You crouch down to the little girl’s height “Aw, but Klee wanted to be with big brother Albedo..” “I know Klee, but by that time you would be asleep. Would you like to help me prepare snacks for Albedo then?” “Yayy, Klee wanna help!” “Alright, keep it between us m’kay?” Holding out a pinky finger for the young one to hook with hers

‘And to keep Albedo busy..’ You head to the fountain plaza to one of your boyfriend’s assistants, Timaeus. “Morning Timaeus, do you know where Sucrose is?” A bit weird to start a conversation about her, since you and Sucrose don’t really get along “Sucrose? I’m not sure. Do you want me to help find her?” “No, no no no, uh, Timaeus, I need you to help distract Albedo tomorrow, mild difficulty experiment, anything” “Is that all? All Right” Scholar alchemist agreed to lend you a hand “Thanks, Timaeus”

You headed off to your next destination ‘Alright, time for a hard part’ the last part of your plan is rather hard, you wondered if he gonna help you

“Mark it as done!” wow that was.. easy, perhaps it’s because of three high-quality bottles of wine in his hands. You asked.. or rather, hired anemo bard to play songs for the night and extra requested to let the wind carry the song to you.

In the evening, you have scouted the area you wanted to give the alchemist your gift and found the perfect place. An area where you can see both the city of freedom and the icy summit, high enough for the gentle breeze to flow, beautifully decorated with flowers and greenery. Starsnatch cliff, also the home of the flower which held meaning, the truest feelings of prodigal son, Cecilia.

The next day everything went according to plan. Light meal fully prepared with the help of the pyro girl, Timaeus kept Albedo busy so he couldn’t come home and caught you and Klee in action.

Quite late night when you knocked on Alice’s door, the blonde, still in his usual attire opened to greet the unknown guests. “Y/N? What are you doing here this late hour?” Judging from the angle of the moon, it's around 9-10 PM “Hey, what about me?” eyepatch covering male’s hand and he placed his elbow on the opened door, the alchemist only nodded to his presence “Evening Bedo, I would like to show you something, could you come with me please?” you don’t normally use the formal language after being with him for so long. He can sense your shyness from the way you speak and your body language “I’d love to go but Klee..”

You pointed to the man behind you “Don’t worry about little Klee, just go enjoy your time” he basically dragged the alchemist out of his house

Chitchat along the way, fingers intertwined with his “Not sleepy yet aren’t you?” you bent down and look at him in the eyes “Not at all, I’m rather excited about what you prepared for me” giggled to his answer “Good, 'cause the night is still young!” you have reached your destination, Large fabric covering the grassy ground, a basket filled with snacks lies atop, along with a flower vase to decorate the scenery. Log of wood has bags and books resting against it. The wind bringing the scent of white flowers and the tune of the harp. Moon and star shining bright, needlessly of other light sources.

“Didn’t know you had anything romantic in mind” he teased your boldness “..well, what do you think?” hiding your embarrassment and teases the alchemist back

Sitting down to the location you prepared, he started to examine the scene “There’s no musician nearby, nor to any instruments.. Am I the only one hearing the melody?” Trying to find a scientific explanation for a strange event “The wind carries messages. Was music not a kind of message too?” He wrapped his arms around your waist, drowning in the love you gave him

“Enjoying it hmm? Here, I prepared some light food for us” slowly getting plates and snacks out from the weaved basket, the fabric is soon filled with various types of dishes "You’re not gonna sit on your seat?” his arms tightened, head bury to your shoulder “..I don't want to move” it’s rare seeing him clingy to you like this “you’re adorable you know” finally commented on his action

“We got your favorite,” one of your dishes has turned to Albedo’s favorite “These are canapés, I chose bread base, topped with different types of savory” bite-sized dishes, you know he prefers smaller portions

Pointing to each topping one by one, explaining what each one is made of. In his eyes, you’re like a professional chef

“Bedo, check this one out” you pulled out Fisherman’s toast with clover ketchup, onions, cheese, and heart-shaped parleys “..Fish-Flavored Toast, Klee’s specialty. You’re so thoughtful, I have to thank her later” he pecked your cheek, definitely in love

“And we got desserts- after savory alright Bedo?” His hand was already reaching for the dish, you have to stop his fast hand Brownies, Berry Mille-Feuille, and a jar of chocolate chip cookies are all making him drool “Shall we dig in?” He suggested, perhaps the desserts engaging him.

Your hypothesis was turned down after seeing him having a high appetite for savory, you figured he actually wanted to savor your cooking

Hours passed and you both are finally full, cuddling against the wooden log, enjoying the melody floating in the air. His platinum hair reflects the elegant moonlight, half-lidded eyes resting against your neck, handheld on yours. You looked up in the sky- its almost time

“Albedo?” He replied with a sweet hum, glancing up at you “Do you know what day is tomorrow?” “..my birthday. but I still don’t understand why you chose to celebrate it tonight” “Wouldn’t be nicer to receive a gift directly after the clock strikes midnight?” Lifted his chin to face you, he’s so close to you, closer than usual

Both yours and his cheek painted rosy, he cupped your face and look deeply into your eyes. “was all this not my birthday gifts?” “nope.. would you like to find out what it is?”

Moon motions overhead, the clock strikes midnight, soft breeze touched exposed skin, the sound of the harp soaring in the sky. stars as the witness, Cecilia as the oath, feelings as vow sealed between the two bodies.

Hand slide by the side of his neck, placing on the backside and pulled him closer, half-lidded eyes slowly closed, chest-pounding hard, tilted your head to the side a little-

sweet lips finally placed on his loving ones, passionated and full of affection, butterflies flying in your stomach. After a while, you break the timeless kiss

“Happy birthday my beloved Albedo”

#albedo x reader #albedo genshin x reader #albedo x you #albedo x gn reader #13Days13AlbedoFanfics #genshin x you #genshin x gn reader

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale

An Advent Calendar of 24 Normal Human Tasks As Performed By A Huge Man Baby.

Day 10: Shop Till You Drop

Warnings: Bad Language words

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: Instalment 10 of mine, @sweater-daddiesdumbdork and @ohthankevans13 telling of Ransom’s quest to become a normal human being. This time Ransom takes on a Super Market…

Series Masterlist

“Will you stop!” You sighed, exasperatedly.

“Stop what?” Ransom frowned, tossing another box of Pop Tarts into the trolley he was pushing round the Supermarket

“Loading the trolley full of crap!”

“Why?”

“Because we don’t need it.”

“So?” he shrugged “I want it.”

You let out another groan “That’s all it ever boils down to with you isn’t it?”

“What the fuck is eating you today?” he snarked back, folding his arms across his chest. “Or is more a case of nothing has eaten you, if you get my drift?”

“God you’re a fucking…” you growled and shook your head, “frankly the thought of you going near me at the moment makes me wanna puke. I’m tired. I have back ache and my legs are sore. We came in with a list and it should have taken us twenty minutes tops but oh no, you just keep stopping for a load of shit we don’t need and its taking us twice as long and I just want to go home!”

“Fuck off, Ransom.” You pulled away.

“Okay, okay!” he chuckled. “Look, why don’t you-“ he fished into his jeans pocket and handed you the keys to the Merc “-go wait in the car? I’ll finish up.”

“You’re going to finish getting the groceries?”

“Yeah.”

You blinked, before you shrugged “Fine, but don’t forget anything on that list or I swear to God you’ll be couched for a week.”

“Jesus, Y/N.” He plucked the list out of your hand, rolling his eyes “Just go for fucks sake.”

**** Ransom watched Y/N stalk off away from him an exhaled, loudly, whilst also giving himself a mental pat on the back for being smart enough to tell her to go and wait in the car. Allowing her to rest whilst he complete the shopping was most certainly going to put him in her good books. And, if he played his cards right and even unloaded the groceries at the other end, he’d most certainly get a bit of bedroom fun later on.

Yup, Ransom Drysdale was a clever bastard.

He glanced down at the list, there wasn’t that much left on it. So, he hastily made his way around the store allowing himself only one little detour for an unlisted item- some Lavender and Camomile bath salts for Y/N which he intended to use later when he drew her a bath to help her relax- and then made his way to the check outs.

Job well done, even if he did say so himself.

He pushed the trolley over the car park, stopping only to hurl abuse at some absolute moron in a Toyota who nearly took him out when he skidded round the corner, and opened the trunk to the car. He loaded the bags, took the trolley back (well, he pushed it to the spare space besides he car because fuck walking over to the Trolley Park, that’s what they paid the simpleton in the hat and hi-viz to do) and made his way to the driver’s door. He dropped in besides his girl and she turned to face him, a smile spreading across her face as he handed her the Hershey’s.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“Its ok baby.” He smiled at her as she leaned over to give him a soft kiss “Cooking my boy is zapping it outta you huh?”

“Just a tad.” She shrugged “But I shouldn’t have snapped. Thank you for finishing up.”

Ransom shrugged “No big deal.” he gave he another quick kiss before he put the car in reverse and drove towards the parking lot exit, a soft smirk playing on his handsome face

Yup, he was off Santa’s Naughty List for sure.

***** “Go and put your feet up, I got this.” Ransom assured you as you made your way to the trunk to help unload the shopping.

“Sure?”

He pressed a kiss to your neck and you bit your lip. You had to admit, that did sound like a damned fine idea. And, to be honest, he was pretty good at unpacking groceries, that was one area he was actually trained in after years of you whipping him into shape.

“Okay.” You tilted your head round to look at him, giving him a quick kiss “Can you keep the mincemeat out for tomorrow’s dinner and the rest of the meat-“

“Can go in the freezer, yeah, I know.” He stepped back, reaching for a bag “I’m not a complete moron.”

“Debatable.” You muttered, ignoring the eye-roll that came your way as you turned around. You headed to the front door, your pace slow as your baby was doing what felt like the tango in your belly. He seemed to be doing that a lot recently, and you were convinced he was reacting to Ransom’s voice, something which you’d told him the previous night making him positively beam at you with pure unadulterated love on his features, something which you were sure no one but you saw. You rubbed your belly, a soft smile on your face, telling your unborn son to quieten down a little, and you’d just unlocked the door when you heard a loud yell, followed by the smashing of glass and a string of expletives from your husband.

“Mother fucking, asshole, bastard crap bag!”

“How much did you just drop all over the drive way?” you asked and he peeked up at you and grimaced.

“Eighty bucks worth. That was some quality merlot.”

You blinked, before you scoffed and shook your head “Do you know where the brush and dustpan is or should I draw you a map?”

“Fuck you.” He shot back, his eyes narrowed in a glare and you grinned, shrugging.

“Maybe later.” and with that you headed inside leaving him to grieve for his precious alcohol, which had been taken from him far too soon…

#real life tasks with ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale

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hermannsthumb · 4 years ago

Note

From horny twitter: Hermann writes a very very detailed review of a vibrator online

not sfw below cut!!!!!!!!!!!

----------------------------

Now, usually, Newt doesn’t mess around when he’s on the clock, because that’d be very unprofessional of him and that’s totally not who he is, but he’s in a little bit of a rut with his current project and could use the distraction. Online shopping is his favorite go-to distraction these days: he can lose himself in size charts and color options and hunts for coupon codes and forget, even for a few minutes, that the end of the world is accelerating towards them at an intimidating rate. Plus, he can write off half his shit as work-related expenses. Win-win. Though maybe not this particular search.

Newt has a pretty reliable arsenal of sex toys he’s used on rotation since he packed up and shipped across the world for the PPDC, but the ten-year warranty vibe he’s used since PhD #3 (and his favorite of the bunch) finally crapped out on him last week after a historically intense fight with Hermann got him historically wound up. Eleven years ain’t bad. After testing out a different charger, poking around in the wiring, and even going so far as to zap it a few times with some sorta-stolen drift tech to see if it stirred any life back into it, he finally decided it was time to just mourn, move on, and buy a new one. (Even if, unfortunately, his particular favorite model was discontinued when the company’s factory was destroyed in a kaiju attack and they never quite managed to recover. More casualties of the war.)

The sex toy market is truthfully booming during the apocalypse. It makes sense, Newt guesses—anything for a distraction. Personally, for Newt, orgasms tend to dampen his own existential dread, even if it’s just for a few minutes. He scrolls idly through a few Top Ten For 2023 listicles on various sex magazine websites to see if anything jumps out at him (some of the recommended toys are dildos he already has, and vibes that are a little beyond his k-sci paycheck), just hoping for something to jump out at him. Apparently he missed out on a limited-edition run of jaeger and kaiju-themed vibes and dildos that came out in early January, which he’s honestly a little pissed about—he’s the top expert on kaiju biology, god damn it! Didn’t anyone want to consult with him about their hypothetical junk? Accuracy matters.

“It’s all off,” Newt mutters grumpily as he examines a 360 view of one of the kaiju dildos. Trespasser. “It’s not even the right color. Fucking amateurs. Did they even try?”

“What are you doing?” Hermann says.

Newt slams his laptop shut. Hermann decided to cut his lunch break short today, apparently. “Shopping,” he says.

“You sounded awfully angry about something, is all,” Hermann says. He clacks over to his half of the lab and shrugs off his big parka, then pauses. “Do you need to...talk about it?”

“No,” Newt says.

Hermann breathes out in obvious relief. “Good,” he says.

He takes his usual spot at his chalkboard and resumes his calculating. Newt re-opens his laptop and scrolls away from Trespasser before he can make himself angry over anatomical inaccuracies again. The jaeger vibes from the collection are pretty cool, actually; the designs are a lot cleaner, and their artistic license is a lot more forgivable. The highest-rated of the set is one obviously (but not enough to invoke copyright infringement, if that can even exist for a jaeger) modeled off of Coyote Tango, with like, a million different settings, and an astronomical cost to match. Newt eyes it enviously. He could be shoving that up his ass right now if he’d just signed up for a stupid email list last year.

He follows the link to Amazon to read through some of the reviews enviously, too. Life-changing; best money ever spent; warranty lasts a lifetime. Ten stars across the board. Sold out, obviously. No idea when it’ll be back in stock. He could get the Striker Eureka model for twice the original cost as when it came out, if he wanted, but the idea of constantly having to associate the twenty-something punk Hansen kid with his intimate affairs makes him shudder.

A nine-star review for the Coyote Tango model from someone named MathLover69 is the only one to make Newt really pause, on account of how absolutely insane it is.

I saved quite a few paychecks to purchase this vibrator, and though the cost is steep, I must say it is absolutely worth it. As opposed to my normal vibrator (here another vibe is linked, and Newt’s eyebrows jump at that price, too), which has only five settings, an admittedly bulky body, and average battery life, the CT2023 has a generous ten, a sleeker design, and charges fully in a matter of minutes. The orgasms I have experienced while using it are higher in quality (and more numerous) than any resulting previously from masturbation, though I have not tried beyond setting six yet. It also works wonders for stress relief. (I have an incredibly irritating colleague, and nothing calms me down so much as a quick round with the CT2023 after a spat with him.)

The body is versatile enough to be either inserted into one’s—

Newt feels heat rise to his cheeks in spite of himself, and he skims the second paragraph of MathLover69’s review to get the gist of it—that there are, uh, plenty of ways to utilize the vibe, that it’s discreet and small enough to wear to work (if you were inclined to do so, as MathLover69 implies he might’ve been) and that when combined with the Yamarashi dildo, the pleasurable experience increased tenfold. Talk about oversharing. Jeez.

My only complaint would be that the design is a poor approximation of the real Coyote Tango, and for that I’ve docked a star. I would recommend this product.

“This guy is a total nut,” Newt says to himself.

“Hm?” Hermann says.

Newt considers the implications of showing Hermann the vibrator listing: Hermann will know he was shopping for sex toys, Hermann will know he was shopping for kaiju and jaeger-themed sex toys, Hermann will know he was shopping for kaiju and jaeger-themed sex toys during working hours a mere ten feet away from him. Embarrassing, but on the other hand, MathLover69’s review is too funny to not share with someone else. “Hey, Hermann,” Newt says, angling his laptop towards Hermann. “Look. Who comments shit like this?”

Hermann descends his ladder carefully and inches up behind Newt’s shoulder, squinting at his laptop screen. He immediately turns bright red. Newt must’ve offended his Victorian sensibilities with the mere suggestion of self-abuse. “Oh,” he says. “Er.”

“Way TMI,” Newt says. “Listen to this line. ‘With the Yamarashi toy inserted into one’s mouth, and the CT2023 inserted up one’s—'”

“Well, how else is one meant to review a masturbatory aid?” Hermann snaps, surprising Newt. He looks oddly flustered. “Details can be—er—helpful. Can’t they?”

“Sure, dude,” Newt snorts. “Except they’re obviously just screwing with people. They literally have a 69 in their username.” He taps at the MathLover69, and doesn’t mention—on behalf of Hermann’s delicate mathematician feelings—that the MathLover part is obviously meant as a joke too.

“Well,” Hermann says. “Perhaps it’s just his—er, their birthdate.”

Newt turns around to stare at Hermann, taking in his red cheeks, his red ears, and the gaze he’s fixed steadily on his shoes. It’s all Newt can do to not to gape at him. “Hermann, you’re kidding,” he says. “Right?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Hermann says.

“You didn’t,” Newt says.

“I,” Hermann stammers. “Well—”

“I didn’t even know you—”

“That I what?” Hermann says.

Newt gives a half-shrug. Hermann doesn’t seem the type to engage in any sort of vice, let alone this kind. And especially not with the type of sex toys he apparently gravitates towards. (If Newt was a little bolder, and had a little less shame and care for hygiene, he might ask to check out the Yamarashi, because anatomical inaccuracies aside, wow that sounds awesome.) “I mean, you know,” Newt says. “You’re kinda you. No offense.”

Hermann takes offense. “I am human,” he says. “I am allowed to masturbate, Newton, and I was merely attempting to educate other customers about the—product—with my thoroughness.” He adds, awkwardly, “My review was voted very helpful, as you can see.”

“Okay,” Newt says with a grin. “I get it. Sorry.”

Hermann marches back over to his side of the lab with a scowl. Newt waits until he’s sure Hermann’s not watching him, and is too distracted by muttering angrily under his breath, to bookmark MathLover69’s page of reviews.

It turns out (as Newt revisits the page later that night, in the privacy of his bunk) Hermann buys and reviews a truly staggering amount of dildos and sex toys, and on top of that, has absolutely zero filter behind the wall of anonymity. It’s to the extent that some of his reviews read like goddamn sexts.

It took me three occasions to successfully work myself up to taking in the entire length…

My orgasm was so pleasurable I alarmed my colleague with the noise I made, who believed me to have injured myself…

The highest vibration setting is a bit of a disappointment…

These are excellent for double penetration…

It also turns out Hermann is a veritable sex fiend. Or at least a masturbation fiend. Judging by his reviews alone, Hermann’s purchased more than a dozen different toys in the past three years alone. That’s four a year. One every three months. That’s not even including buttplugs, which (according to other reviews) he sometimes just wears into the lab (“work”) for the hell of it, which Newt isn’t even going to think about right now. How the hell has Hermann kept this much of his life under wraps? When the hell does he have time to jerk off as much as he apparently does? No wonder they never seem to have any fucking funding; all of Hermann’s paychecks are funneled directly into his—well.

Newt recalls the faux-injury incident Hermann mentioned in a comment with mild embarrassment. No wonder Hermann had been so weird and flushed when he opened his door, and made excuses to say bye to him so quickly—Newt just caught him (oh, boy) immediately following the best orgasm of his life. Well, mild embarrassment, and a little more than mild arousal. What Newt would’ve given to have been there five minutes earlier, to watch Hermann in the act of the best orgasm of his life, to maybe even be the one to cause it…

What Newt would give to use Hermann’s fancy-shmancy vibrator on him, or literally anything from his giant masturbatory arsenal. Or even just watch him use it on himself. Hermann’s just so damned buttoned-up and uptight—it’s all about the contradictions. Juxtapositions. Newt unzips his jeans and sticks his hand down his boxers. “Stupid Hermann,” he moans, as he begins to bring himself off to the image of Hermann with that stupid kaiju dildo down his throat and that stupid jaeger vibe up his ass. Negotiator of peace between the two? Stupid joke, stupid Hermann. Or maybe he’s picturing Hermann showing up to the lab, all plugged up and loose from using a different vibe on himself that morning. Or maybe Hermann pushing two dildos into himself at once. How the hell can he even manage that? Ass his size— “Oh, goddamn it,” Newt moans again, and comes all over his hand.

Whatever. It’s not like Hermann’s ever going to find out about this.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous #not sfw ////

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riversofmars · 4 years ago

Text

“Now that’s a whole different birthday.“

Just a little something I’d been thinking about :D

Ship: River/Thirteen, River/Eleven, River/Thirteen/Eleven

Rating: T

Word count: 1300

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“Ouch! Careful where you drop your wires!“ The Doctor exclaimed as a heavy copper wire knocked her head. She pulled herself up a little onto her elbows whilst lying under the Tardis’s console. “I’m sorry but I need to get these stabilisers fixed, you and me will both be happier for it so hold still!“ The Tardis gave a wheezing noise, clearly unhappy with what the Doctor was doing. “I know but it won’t hurt if you just let me get on with it, I’ll be done in no time!“ The Doctor tried to connect two wires when she got an electric shock. “Did you just zap me on purpose?!“ The Tardis hummed accusingly. “What do you mean, did I not lock the door? Of course I locked the door! Changing the subject, are we?“ She adjusted her googles and reached for her screwdriver when she heard voices.

“You’ve redecorated!“ A female voice exclaimed and a male one answered in confusion.

“No I haven’t… What the…“ Both voices sounded oddly familiar.

“Shoot.“ The Doctor groaned and pushed herself up again. She winced as she knocked her head and the Tardis hummed an “I told you so“.

“Oi! It’s polite to knock, who do you think…“ The Doctor pulled herself out from under the console and stared at the two people looking around her Tardis. “No.“ She looked at them in shock and pushed her googles up onto her forehead.

“What have you done to my Tardis? How did you even get in here?“ Initially, the Doctor didn’t know what to respond to her previous self who was looking around the Tardis just standing there. Lanky, floppy hair, bowtie, braces, she remembered being him well. Her attention, however, was solely focused on their wife. It had been such a long time since she had last seen River, she had missed her so much.

“What have I done to your Tardis? What are you doing in my Tardis? You’re not meant to be here!“ The Doctor said shooting her former self an accusing look.

“Your Tardis?“ He looked at her bewildered as realisation was slowly dawning on him. “No… you’ve got to be joking…“

“Can’t just walk into any old Tardis, did you not keep track of where you parked it?“ The Doctor crossed her arms in front of her chest and the Tardis hummed in agreement in the background.

“Oh this is going to be fun.“ River smirked having put two and two together. She looked the Doctor up and down, this was certainly an unexpected turn of events but a delightful one. This was one version of her husband that she certainly wanted to spend some quality time with.

“River…“ The Doctor turned to her wife feeling all sorts of emotions well up in her. There were so many things she wanted to say but she couldn’t find the words. She wanted to pull her into her arms, hug her, kiss her, but she remained rooted to the spot unsure of what to do. “What do you mean this is going to be fun?“ She questioned carefully.

“I think this might turn into a whole different birthday…“ River winked.

“It’s your birthday today?“ The Doctor exclaimed in excitement. It made sense, she always used to take her out. They had probably just made a wrong turn somewhere, wouldn’t be the first time.

“Sure is.“ River smiled and the Doctor grinned.

“Brilliant!“

“Yes, I have a feeling it will be.“ River took a step towards her and the Doctor broke out of her trance. She closed her gap between them and pulled her wife into a tight hug.

“I’ve missed you.“ She confessed as she held her close, she rested her head on River’s shoulder closing her eyes for a moment. She inhaled her scent, felt her curls tickle her nose, it was as if time itself stopped; just until she pulled herself out of the moment, lifted her head up and pressed her lips to River’s. She couldn’t restrain herself, she needed this more than she cared to admit.

“And I am delighted to meet you.“ River chuckled against her lips kissing her back.

“No, no, no, no, no.“ The other Doctor exclaimed waving his hands around. “That’s quite enough, thank you very much!“ He tried to push them apart. “Hands off my wife.“ He jabbed his finger at his future self.

“Our wife.“ She corrected him with a huff.

“You can’t be me, you’re…“ He struggled for words.

“What?“ The Doctor raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“Short.“ He retorted unable to think of anything else.

“Fun size.“ River interjected.

“You really shouldn’t be here.“ The Doctor pointed out.

“Agreed, come on River, we’re going.“ He agreed gesturing for his wife to come along.

“But it’s my birthday!“ River protested looking in between the two Doctors.

“Yes, and we will be late for our date.“ He replied.

“You have a time machine.“ She stated as if being late was a ridiculous notion.

“I have a time machine, he lost his.“ The Doctor piped up.

“You know, you won’t remember any of this, time distortions when you cross your own time line and all that.“ River carried on as she reached for her husband’s hand.

“Yes, good, wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.“ He gestured towards the Doctor who raised her eyebrows at him taking that as an insult.

“So surely there is no harm if we stay a little while.“ River grinned as she held on to his hand to keep him from walking away.

“River.“ He groaned exasperated.

“You know, it is my birthday and two Doctors are better than one.“ She smirked mischievously.

“No, no, no.“ He shook his head.

“I really don’t think we need him…“ The Doctor shared his reservations, she wanted to keep her wife all to herself. She reached for her free hand and gave it a squeeze. “Stay, I’ll take you back later.“

“Would you deny your wife her birthday wish?“ River looked in between the two Doctors who both found themselves blushing. “You’re God knows how old now, are you really telling me you’ve never…“

“Not with myself…“ The Doctor mumbled feeling rather embarrassed. She looked at her past self who seemed even more uncomfortable.

“I think it’s rather an “alongside yourself“ sort of situation, it is my birthday after all.“ River pointed out with a smirk. “Where is your sense of adventure?“ Neither one of them spoke, they just shared an awkward glance. “You did say I could have whatever I want for my birthday.“ She turned to her husband with a challenging look.

“I guess…“ He mumbled and looked over to his future self again who bit her bottom lip mulling over her answer. This was a tempting offer. She wasn’t quite sure how it ranked morally but it was tempting… She had missed her so much and she was already imagining taking her clothes off her. And it wasn’t exactly like she was sharing her with anyone, just herself… himself… the pronouns were too confusing.

“Well, you can certainly have me.“ She found herself saying as she stopped overthinking. She stepped closer to River, ran her free had down her front and started unbuttoning the her blouse. She nuzzled her nose into her neck and started kissing her soft skin there.

“Doctor?“ River looked around to her husband and gave his hand an encouraging squeeze. He looked back at the two of them and swallowed, his mouth suddenly feeling rather dry.

“Promise I won’t remember this?“ He asked of his future self unsure how to deal with the moral dilemma of it all.

“You won’t.“ She assured him with a wink before extending her hand to him.

#I mean... why not??#River/Thirteen #River/Thirteen/Eleven #river x thirteen #river x eleven #river x the doctor #doctor who #fanfiction #river song #thirteenth doctor #eleventh doctor #thirteen #Jodie whittaker #Alex Kingston #Matt Smith #threesome... maybe #I don't know how to write straight sex so can't actually write the rest of this lol

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phantomphangphucker · 4 years ago

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Ectober Day 28: Fall - Sinners Are We Chap.6: No More Idle Hands

And Dove could stay silent no more.

Neither he nor his brother got their father’s infamous wail. For Russet that made perfect sense, he simply didn’t hold up in the power department for such a powerful ability. And Orrin didn’t find such a brash brazen ability to be suited to him, so he rather didn’t care if he developed it or not. But Dove having it, and so young, was truly a surprise. And he loved those. So he feels he is quite justified in laughing as everyone else grasped their ears and collapsed, even father fell to the ground as everything shook. Everything around bursting, exploding, pluming even more smoke and ash into the sky practically blotting it out.

Who would have thought she’d have such a destructive ability.

He summons enough ectoplasm around his ears to muffle the sound, father wasn’t honestly smart enough to think of this quite yet. Then again, father was never on the receiving end of the Ghostly Wail. Orrin stands up, defying gravity to keep his balance on the shaky ground, sticking his arms out to the side and laughing, “WOW! I MEAN REALLY! WOW!”, grinning wide and a bit wild, if everything’s descending into madness and chaos then might as well behave a little mad to match, “KEEP THIS UP AND YOU MIGHT JUST KILL EVERYONE YOURSELF! HAHAHAHAHA!”. He absolutely knows father looks to him and notes his little trick to get around the wail, and will, of course, utilise it himself in a few seconds. The pressure’s on Dove, what will you do? What will you do.

But again she catches him by surprise, picking an option he never realised was on the board at all. She doesn’t stop, or aim it; no she changes octaves. Which, was father even capable of such a thing? She, she might just be stronger than him. Well fancy that. This octave though, oh it absolutely makes Orrin drop to his knees; the ectoplasm doing nothing to muffle the sounds.

All the mortals groan and roll over, many simply watching or backing away in stunned silence as three of the -apparently- four present Gray-Phantom’s pass out, the little girl- the princess losing the human disguise in the process.

Rio pushes herself up, staggering to run over to the little glowing gray-haired girl with her little head tilted skyward as green/purple sound-waves pulsed out of her mouth, sparkling pale blue tears streaming down her face from amber eyes. Rio collapsing next to her and hugging the little girl she’d grown to know as so gentle it almost hurt, “ROBIN! DOVE! STOP! SWEETHEART IT’S FINE! IT’S FINE! NO ONE’S HURTING ANYMORE! BUT YOU NEED TO STOP!”, and practically smushes the girl into her as the horrific sound peters off and the girl shakes violently.

Rio looks around as everyone starts to stand, some very cautiously looking towards the downed Gray-Phantom’s and chucking things at them from afar. Rio squeezing Dove/Robin closer and snapping her head towards Rex as he walks over, “she’s never hurt anyone”.

“She’s one of them”.

Rio snarls, “do I look like I care?”. Rex just huffs and wanders off, waving over his shoulder, “this is your problem then. Remi’s fine though”. Rio sighs at that. Then looking around as she stands. What the Hell are they going to do?

Spotting one of the hunters moving to put anti-ecto braces on Lark -Orrin, she staggers over, minding her twisted ankle and other injuries, “wait. This- this utterly insane nutter is to thank. He did this. Planned this. He-”, glancing to the girl she’s carrying in her arms who looked to just be staring blankly, “-got her to take them down. At least wake the twit up”.

The hunter huffs and cuffs him anyway but does give the... prince a good zap to wake him up. The guy groans on the ground in a way that makes it sound like he had simply been taking a nice afternoon nap, “well. That was certainly interesting”.

Rio grunts down at him, slightly out of pain, “and that was a stupid choice of first words. I don’t think I need to point out that you’re at gunpoint, cuffed, and surrounded; Orrin”.

He chuckles faintly, sits up, and crosses his legs. Cool, calm, demeanour never faltering, “well I would certainly hope so. These fellows wouldn’t be doing what they’re supposed to otherwise”, he looks around and shrugs a little, her following his gaze towards Russet. Him chuckling faintly, “well damn, that imbecile’s still alive”.

Jester loses it at that, “you wanted us to kill him?”.

“Arguably, why not? He’s a real bastard”.

One of the hunters makes a wheezing sound, “oh gods”, looks to Rio, “how in all the worlds did you turn one of the princes. Seriously”.

Orrin apparently won’t let that statement fly, “oh no. Blame the little missy. Real gentle doll that one”.

Rio looks to the side as Dove/Robin stirs at that, looking down at Orrin. Rio holds on to her, unsure, when the girl moves to reach for him. Orrin just chuckles and stands up while the cuffs just fall off and takes the girl from her in a swift motion. Everyone near -who aren’t helping with clean up or medical care- gape at him and follow him with their guns, Rio turning around gapping herself. Orrin chuckles again, looking at them with a smirk, “what? Did you really think I wouldn’t have altered everything to have little to no effect on me?”, he grins, “I’m the smart one you know. The sneaky shadow. Guess it’s true what people say that no one notices what their shadow does until it does something they don’t expect”. One of the hunters shoots him in the foot as if to check, which he rolls his eyes at. It, of course, does nothing more than leave a bit of ash on his black spandex high-heels.

Everyone looks to the two Gray-Phantom’s that could actually be cuffed. One guy clearing his throat, “so... what are we supposed to with this? Did... did we just win”. It takes only a bit of murmuring for most of the people around to break out into cheering or crying. No one stops pointing weapons at Orrin though, which he obviously ignores as if they don’t even exist.

Rio does smile at Dove when she seems to hum slightly happily over the cheering. Though Dove straightens up and leans away from Orrin a bit, reaching her fingers out towards Russet. Everyone jumping and staring as both Russet and Phantom move across the ground to the other two Gray-Phantom’s inhumanly fast, yet never waking. Orrin putting Dove on the ground who goes over, takes off her teddy bear backpack, and bops Russet on the head with it; pointing at him with puffed out cheeks like she was scolding him. Then moving to do the same to Phantom. Orrin blinks at the scene, “I do not claim to understand that girl”.

Rio is the only one willing to stand anywhere close to him, her crossing her arms, “I think you just don’t understand being nice and innocent”.

“You may be right there. Though I doubt most would be any different in my shoes”. No one really argues him there, because he was probably right. How could anyone be raised by those monsters and not wind up one?

Rio scowls at him, “I almost feel bad for you. But you’re probably as much a murderous monster as the rest of your family”, scowling more when he chuckles and grins meanly. Making it very clear to everyone that he was perfectly fine with that fact, and that he has, in fact, actually killed people. Rio draws her eyebrows together, “then why, why effectively save us”.

Orrin quirks an eyebrow, “didn’t I already tell you? Oh well, mortal minds are hardly of quality”, then steamrolls right over multiple offended objections, “me and brother dearest started out like terrible terrors”, pointing at Dove, “she, did not”, smoothing his jacket, “be a shame to turn gold to brass, don’t you think? Further, this seemed like a far more interesting course of action, I dare say”.

Everyone pauses and looks to Dove and Russet as the latter stirs. Orrin actually smirking when Russet spots Dove glaring down at him with crossed arms and Russet actually flinches. Orrin saunters over with a very wicked-looking grin on his face, “now what was that? Did the big scary bad Rusty flinch at the sight of a little girl?”. Which fine, more than a few people around laugh at slightly. Though many find this to be incredibly surreal and way too mundane after everything; petty sibling bickering between those framed to be the worst of monsters in the middle of what was just a battleground that had promised nothing but death for all the mortals there mere seconds ago.

Russet scowls up at the younger prince, “fuck you you fucking piece of shit demon child bastard. Ancients fuck you are a psychopath-”.

Orrin cuts him off with a shrug while everyone else just watches wide-eyed, “I appreciate the compliment, though really this seems more like a situation where you should be aiming to be insulting”, he shoves Russets head with his boot, making Russet squirm and start spewing profanities at noticing the cuffs and everything. Orrin just talks over him, “be glad I’m not power-hungry like you. Otherwise-”, Orrin grins and everyone tenses as he bends down, “-I’d find it quite tempting to take advantage of this and just do away with the first prince entirely. I find doing so would hardly be difficult, considering your current predicament”. Everyone relaxes when Dove hits Orrin with the plushie backpack, and he just chuckles faintly and gives her a head pat as he straightens up.

After a second though, all the hunters and rebels nod to each other, marching over and move to grab up both the still unconscious Phantom and snarling Russet. But Dove grabs both of them and squeezes them, somehow knocking Russet back out, and puffs out her cheeks defiantly.

Everyone glancing at each other awkwardly. Orrin breaks their awkwardness slightly by sighing, “and she still doesn’t know how to snarl properly”.

Rio shakes her head, personally glad for that, and walks over the kneel in front of her, “sweetheart, we can’t just leave them in the street. And remember what I said about bad people needing to be punished?”, when Dove nods she continues, “well we punish people by locking them up. Besides-”, side-eyeing the hunters, “-I doubt you’d let us seriously hurt them. Right?”. Dove nods immediately and repeatedly, puffing her cheeks more. Rio can tell that the hunters got the damn message that this was a losing battle. No Gray-Phantom was dying/being destroyed here today. This tiny girl just effectively took out all of the ghostly Gray-Phantom’s with one attack and practically instantly, even nearly destroyed the city and everyone in it at the same time. They were very lucky she was a kind gentle soul. Very. It would be better to not tick her off or do something to change that. Not that Rio was entirely sure it was possible to piss that girl off. Annoy? Sure. Piss off? No.

Dove huffs again, turns almost dramatically, and starts marching off in the direction of the -probably wrecked- jailhouse; dragging Phantom and Russet under her arms across the ground.

One of the hunters pointing out, “she does realise we can’t put them in regular cells, right? Like, those things need special ecto-containment cells. Especially Phantom”, grumbling, “with that bloody crown of his”.

Orrin grins and turns to him, sticking his hands in his pockets and giving a smile that’s close to charming, “actually, no”, tilting his head, “well, yes, but no”. Rio glares at him so he explains himself without any further prompting, “I think it is fair to say that father was quite efficiently and effectively bested, yes?”.

One of the hunters scowls, “your point, monster”, scowling a little more, “and know that regardless of this, you still belong in a cell or obliterated out of existence”.

Orrin only chuckles instead of seeming even slightly threatened, “oh I’m well aware how others feel of me, no need wasting your breath. After all, you need it and you have so very little of it”, grinning meanly, “why it could be snuffed out just like that”.

Rio pinches the bridge of her nose, “for the love of- stop being threatening just because you can be now that it won’t make you suspicious”.

Orrin rolls his eyes, “you have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to tear off your pretty little head”.

“Uncalled for”.

“And yet you still seem to put up with me. Strange”. Rio absolutely scowls deeper at the Gray-Phantom for that. “Anyway, my point is, when you best a royal, what is it that happens?”, he taps his chin in obviously fake contemplation before sounding rather condescending, “why you usurp them of course. You take their throne. Their crown. I do believe you get the message this time”.

Rio blinks at him, bullshit, “there is no way your... mother will go for that”.

He wags a clawed finger at her, “ah but her role as Mortal Queen is entirely made up and her claim as High Ghost Sovereign is that of a Consort”, shrugging, “normally in chess, you kill the queen, you win the game. But in this case, it’s the king”, smirking, “or was”. Needless to say, everyone starts freaking out.

Rio watches him smirk as people panic, it was mostly a good or confused panic though. “You just like chaos, don’t you”.

He doesn’t even look to her as he speaks, “I find it enjoyable yes. It’s more that I like to be entertained. I’m a creature of novelty and I had been rather bored as of late”.

Rio squints at him, “I can’t figure out if you’re genuinely on our side or are just dicking around”. Scowling when he winks before sauntering off in the direction of the jailhouse. More than a few hunters and rebels following largely to ‘keep an eye on’ the Gray-Phantom they could do nothing about; though some were conflicted on their feelings over the halfa that they had become familiar and even friendly with over the past while.

They walk in to Dove sitting on the floor attempting and succeeding at braiding Phantom’s flaming hair. Orrin furrowing his eyebrows at her, “why? What purpose does this serve”. She predictably just hums at him, rocking a little. Many of the hunters and rebels mutter, “you've got to be kidding me”. Rio and a few others barely hold back cooing ‘awww’s at the girl; the fact that it was Phantom getting his hair braided rather killed the cute effect of the scene.

Everyone but Orrin and Dove jumping at a portal swirling open on the wall and the FrightKnight waltzing through. All of the fully living aiming their weapons but doing nothing when the ghost bows to Dove, who pats his helmet with a small smile.

The FrightKnight looks to Orrin, “I must say, you frighten me. It will never cease to amaze me how so many call the first prince the demon rather than you”. Orrin bows very exaggeratedly with a coy grin, “you flatter me so”. The ghost shakes his head before turning and kneeling before Dove, “shall I take these two to the dungeon for you, my queen”, she just hums but the ghost seems to understand and before anyone can do anything the two captured Gray-Phantom’s are whisked away by the ghost.

All the fully living around are stunned stupid, Rio looking to Orrin, “you were serious”, then screwing up her face, “wait”, throwing her hands out to the side and scowling at Orrin, “Dove obviously doesn’t have a mean bone in her body. Isn’t she just going to let them loose?!?!”. The group giving the halfas panicked looks as they come upon the same worry. The princess -Queen?- was practically a newborn and those two monsters were her family.

Orrin waves everyone off, “oh it’s no matter. Crown’s hers all the same. Dear brother isn’t strong enough to beat her and father wouldn’t bother to even try. He never genuinely harms family in any long-lasting or permanent ways”, Orrin looks around and gives another mean smirk, “though you should thank little Dove for stopping you from killing Russet. I sure wouldn’t have”.

One of the guys squints at him, “why? Also, them being free is the problem, not them trying to challenge her. Though fine, that would be an issue too”. Everyone had officially decided without question that they’d take the sweet little Dove as a ruler over her monster parents or siblings.

“Why that’s so very simple. You may think father is bad already, but that is nothing compared to what he’s really capable of. I wouldn’t put it past him to annihilate everything he could get his claws on if one of us were destroyed”.

Rio almost can’t believe that she’s hearing the Phantom, the mass-murdering monster of monsters, had a ridiculous soft spot for his family. A genuine one. Turning to look at Dove and going wide-eyed at her floating/walking over while tugging at a flaming glowing green crown. Which pulls down over her face before springing back over her head every time she lets go of it. The girl humming and purring in clear joy and amusement. Then kneeling down to poke Rio’s ankle which suddenly doesn’t hurt. Rio blinking, “sweetheart... did you just... heal me?”. Dove hums and nods before running off poking people.

Orrin sighs and shakes his head a little, guess she thought the hiding game was over; he does follow her with his eyes though. Which doesn’t go unnoticed.

One of the hunters kneeling down to let the little glowing girl poke his head, then staring off after her as she moves on, “this is going to take some getting used to”, then noticing Orrin’s staring that’s boarding on a glare, “chill out ah... for the love of everything take your human form again, this is too weird”. Some others nod, some laugh though it’s weak.

Orrin rolls his eyes but promptly shoots the guy lazily with an ecto-beam; the guy hissing from the impact and being caught off-guard, “that’s for proposing the idea of kidnapping Dove”. Unsurprisingly everyone points their guns at him again before lowering them and glaring at the halfa after he spoke. He just grins, “just keeping things interesting”, the grin turning rather mean as the guy brushes himself off, “besides I think you’d prefer a weak little ecto-beam over my original idea. Which involved cups, mice, and your eyes. Make of that what you will”.

Rio scowls, “I think I preferred when you didn’t randomly threaten people, let’s go back to that”, sighing and glancing to Dove, “at least you’re protective I guess”.

Everyone goes silent, which becomes slightly awkward till Remi comes running in looking for her ma only to get practically tackled by Dove. Gently tackled, but still tackled. Remi just looks confused and kinda scared, “w-who”. Resulting in Dove looking almost heartbroken and making gestures at Orrin, who rolls his eyes but twirls his fingers dramatically; both of them suddenly looking as everyone was rather more familiar with. Remi gets over her shock instantly and starts worry babbling at Dove.

Orrin grins faint and amused as he leans his arms on the windowsill, watching as Dove finishes poking people outside, everyone exchanging glances before basically shouting, “LONG LIVE THE QUEEN”. Oh there were so many possibilities to be had. Especially when father wakes and mother hears of this. Would she be proud ‘her little girl’ bested the ghost she never could? Would Dove ‘talk’ them into being peaceful ‘or else’? Would the dead accept her as a High Sovereign or would she need to prove her worth?

Looking down, she obviously had little idea what was going on. Possibly none at all. She was simply smiling and moving her hands around because she was enjoying their happiness and cheer. Such a strange thing. Her enjoying... joy. He truly has little clue how their parents made her. And he rather doubts they understand it either. Even when those two were ‘good guys’ they certainly weren’t able to be called ‘innocent’ or ‘gentle’. While those were the first words that came to mind with Dove.

Turning his head slightly as Rio comes in, her closing the door and leaning against it with crossed arms, “so... are you guys going to be staying or...”, and quirking an eyebrow.

“Is this your mortal way of asking me to”.

She huffs, “Remi would be sad, that is all”. Which Orrin isn’t even close enough to a fool to believe for even a second, “yeah. Sure it is”.

“...”.

Orrin shakes his head a little and turns to look back out the window. The mortals were giving her sweets. How quaint. “I doubt I could keep Dove away. As I find I doubt she would really let me try to in genuine”. She had clearly grown fond of this place and it’s creatures; and clearly not as simply pets, servants, or loyal manipulatable underlings.

He can hear the raised eyebrow in Rio’s voice, “wouldn’t ‘let you’? You don’t seem like someone who’s controllable”.

He elects for vague, not as if he needs to explain in the first place, “there are ways”. Far be it for him to mention that the Crown makes the wearer able to control the dead, or part dead for that matter. He doubts Dove would make much use of that, which is quite fine by him. Not that that wouldn’t make things interesting regarding father.

“Riiiight”.

He outright ignores that. Him speaking again as she joins him by the window, “regardless, no we will not be staying. Dove has her castle and throne to attend to”, grinning both mean and mischievous, “and I have a brother to torture”.

“... I can’t tell if you mean that literally”, she sighs, “so she’ll come back then”.

“Indeed”.

“And you?”.

That does catch him just slightly off-guard. Apparently he wasn’t completely deplorable to these people. Fancy that. Though he had a level of feeling that this particular member of the living was more than just tolerant of him. “Oh I doubt Remi would care if I did or not”, him smirking a bit, “unless of course, that particular question has nothing to do with her happiness at all”.

He glances at her as she audibly scowls at him, “you’re an emotionless asshole without a caring bone in your body”.

Which only makes him chuckle, “then clearly you’re rather nuts for getting feelings involved”. This entire escapade was bringing plenty of interesting surprises and twists that he hadn’t yet experienced it would seem. “Particularly when you know said asshole has wanted to at the very least mildly murder you on multiple occasions”. Why that of all things gets her to promptly give him a chastised kiss he isn’t going to claim to understand in the slightest. Instead he furrows his brows at her, “I find I don’t understand you much either at times”. Did Phantom’s just have a habit of attracting living women? That could be an idea to look into at a later date.

She rolls her eyes and looks back out the window, where Dove is now chuckling flowers at people. “Good. I’d probably bore you otherwise”.

He dips his head slightly to acknowledge that is rather true, “accurate”.

“... so, will you come back?”.

“Well I dare say my curiosity is rather peaked now, so I hardly can find a reason to not”.

She scowls at him, but even his moron of a brother could tell she wasn’t actually upset with him. “Yup. You’re still a jerk”.

He snorts, “don’t go expecting change. Dove’s the ‘sweetheart’, not me”, running a hand through his hair and smirking, “I’m definitely more charming though”.

“Annnd there’s the ego”.

“It’s far too late for you to make denials-”, pausing and tilting his head at sniffing mothers scent. Looking up to spot the red suit and hoverboard far up in the sky, clearly she was watching, was seeing this. Dove frolicking with a bunch of mortals, a green crown flaming over her head all the while. “Mother’s here”.

Rio immediately jerks to attention and puts her hand to her blaster in preparation for assault. Orrin tilts his head though, watching as mother seems to shake her head and laugh before shooting off into the distance. “She... left”, he’s never felt genuinely shocked by something before. Why?

Rio blinks at him, obviously in shock herself, “what?! Why?!”.

“I... don’t believe I know”.

Rio blinks at him before shaking her head and stiffly leaning on the windowsill again, “well I'm not about to look that particular gift horse in the mouth”.

He squints before smirking after a bit, “she may very well be going to mock father and berate brother for being a moron again”.

“Still not even glancing at the gift horse”. He chuckles at that.

Suddenly Dove’s floating in front of them, tugging gently on Orrin’s sleeve. ‘Come’. He feels the unspoken command deep into the core of him, and he can’t very well deny it. Now can he? So he floats off the ground and moves to head out the window, though smirking meanly and grabbing Rio at the last second to yank her out too.

“You bastard!”. That only makes him chuckle more.

Him speaking quiet enough that the living won’t hear, “you truly ought learn to be more sparing with the KingSpeak, being forced to do things is hardly enjoyable. Particularly for a Gray-Phantom”. Dove just hums pleasantly at him as he’s effectively dragged into the silly dancing thing. And while the mortals keep their distance mostly, they don’t outright flee from him. How quaint and a rather peculiar turn of events.

End.

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